#I mean to be fair it is soft and domestic and quite hot

[booasaur]

NCIS: Hawai’i - 2x01

#ncishawaiiedit #ncis hawai'i #lucy tara #kate whistler #yasmine al bustami #tori anderson #ncis hawai'i spoilers #ncis hawai'i 2x01 #kate x lucy #kacy #femslash related stuff #when you're trying to proposition your gf and she just wants to make breakfast #kate's going to have to get used to having the highest-energy person in the world as her gf #I mean she presumably had some inkling after the two nights three days thing :P #man what an episode this was that despite the well deserved hype for this scene it might not even be my fave #how crazy that you could literally create a top 5 ranking in one ep #I mean to be fair it is soft and domestic and quite hot #and being the final scene and fade out gives you the impression they at least get this night #actually I don't know which one I WOULD pick as my fave... #but f/f couples should do more straddling scenes >_>

[janumun]

Being the brand new omega roommate for alpha Alhaitham and alpha Kaveh, who were both carefully looking for a needed extra to fill in the space in their housing near Port Ormos, purely for important research purposes Alhaitham claims.

And conveniently, they were also looking for another proper lover (Preferably an omega) for their alphan pod for their upcoming ruts, both of which just so happen to be right around the corner.

Poor sensitive alpha Kaveh, and absolute buster alpha Alhaitham, are both equally slick and suave in pursuing what they desire. Once they put their mind to something none can ever stop them from achieving their appointed goal.

Kaveh is more romantically obvious than Alhaitham, but that doesn't mean Alhaitham won't have his fair share of aces up his sleeve to properly convince you to join them in their pack. And with their ruts coming up alongside the brand new omega moving in, time is short and ever increasingly fragile.

Surely you will be so kind as to aid their little predicament?

OBLIGATORY NSFW 🔞 BREAK

Before we dive pussy first into this, I’ll have you know that your Ask was what took me out of commission for this long, Nonny. I had to sink back into the sofa and just stare into space for the next several weeks. 🤣

While I would’ve really loved to write something more cohesive for this (I am so, so insane for the ABO AU), the ideas I had would’ve ended up spanning a multi chapter fic, which I simply could not afford to work on, at the moment xD You are so ✨big-brained✨ for this, though!

If you’ve read a couple of my stories, you might’ve noticed I prefer romance dashed spice over hot, sweaty, sexy spice (very good on you if you prefer the latter!).

I’m currently working on a story where Traveler (/my MC) lives with the Akademiya duo and part of their dynamic might be reflected in these few headcanons I’ve got for Alpha Hai/Ω Reader/Alpha Kaveh.

I cannot believe this is nearly 1k words of ABO thirst because I simply hold no control over myself.

Al-Haitham’s fond of you. It isn’t quite what he intended — nor the direction he intended it in — when he divulged the fact that he was interested in you.

Perhaps, it is your unconventional ideologies, only on par with Kaveh’s naivety, or perhaps the way you seem to have Kaveh so domesticated (he was at Al-Haitham’s ear for weeks for daring to point out how the two of you seemed to get on like a house on fire, worded perhaps in less kinder terms) it’s an amusing sight to witness.

Or your unwitting genius, when you come across Al-Haitham on days he’s going through new texts, and strike up a debate regarding the contents of the author’s mindset and the degree and quality of said research.

He isn’t quite as obvious as Kaveh; ready with his smiles and clear affections worn across his sleeve.

…Nor is he quite as lacking as his former friend in self-discipline, when it comes to reigning in his instincts as an Alpha. Finding himself against you at the weakest callings of an approaching rut, or the siren call of your heats. Al- Haitham supposes you too are to blame, for spoiling Kaveh as you do; you never turn the man down and try as Kaveh might, to be a gentleman and spare you, it is always you giving him the go-ahead to fuck you as he pleases, wherever…

And later on, whenever—

His ruts are close at hand, Kaveh finds it physically intolerable to have you close and not bury his entire body into yours, threading his limbs about your body and sinking his face into the soft heat of your breasts.

He started off gentle and slow at the beginning of your arrangement, and he remained determined to follow through his resolve to relieve himself on your scent alone. The idea of tackling you down like some sort of… beast every time a rut hit, seeking you out for mere physical relief — despite your arrangement — didn’t sit right in his heart.

But you are a curious and fascinating creature, and Kaveh did not quite bet on being as infatuated with you as he is; you seem almost crafted to complete a whole of him. And you are… unfortunately, incredibly persistent.

And—

Incredibly tight, he gasps. When Kaveh finds himself buried up to the hilt within you, he’s blind to all sense except the feeling of your wet heat, the burn of pleasure streaking up his length and knotting into his abdomen with the force and desperation of his thrusts. Close, the need to have you closer burning at the back of his throat and gnawing with the bite of bitter teeth into the swell of his lip.

“K-Kaveh.” Before you scold, and he complies, immediate; love-stricken, lust-driven, clenching his teeth into a bite at your shoulder and moans deep and long, mirroring the intensity of his release into you.

Nosing at that spot against your neck in post coital euphoria and overwhelming protection. Uncharacteristic burst of an intolerable instinct to bite into you and mark you his.

When Kaveh and Al-Haitham have their ruts coincide on the rare occasion—

The Scribe does not shy away from availing his privilege of several days of paid leave, off his roster of scarcely used holidays, when his ruts are near carnal, and certainly not when they happen to fall upon the same cycles as Kaveh’s (perhaps a natural result of bonding with the same omega). He needs the entirety of a 24/7 workday and more, when he is forced to share your body, pleasure and time with Kaveh. The latter not ceasing to whine and huff, even as he moans at Al-Haitham about positioning her right, going slower so she can concentrate on us both.

Taunts usually he answers with silence, or on occasion, when Kaveh is unbearably loud,

“Perhaps you aren’t pleasing her as well as you seem to think yourself able, if you believe she cannot concentrate simply because I am “harsh” on her.” Punctuating his statement with a particularly firm thrust, your quivering moan breaking along with Kaveh’s fumed sputtering.

Your tightening, at the punishing pace Al-Haitham sets for you both, dragging their orgasms from the Alphas at the same time, flooding you to the brim with their hot seed. Their knots traveling up and lodging into your pussy undoing your own vehement release from how large the stretch is, all of a sudden, and you see stars as you collapse against Al-Haitham, his low grunt burning at your ears from how incredibly hot you find him, so undone inside you.

Squeezing around them on instinct, pulling a collective groan from the two men. Al-Haitham raises his head, his gaze inspiring a fresh wave of nervous anticipation inside you, from how he looks at you as if he has no intentions of stopping until he has you well and truly bred. A man of spare words but the intensity of his lust and emotions once unstoppered, is enough to have your legs aching for days after.

A shudder creeping up your body from where he treks a gentle thumb against your cheek and just before he kisses you, a whisper of one, “Well done,” has your heart soaring within your chest.

And if Kaveh’s soft brushes of kisses against the crown of your shoulders, venturing just shy of your glands, is anything to go by, you know he too, is far from done yet.

#asks #anonymous #genshin impact kaveh #genshin impact al haitham #al haitham smut #kaveh smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin kaveh x reader smut #genshin al haitham x reader smut #GI kaveh #ns/fw #janulogue

[wonusite]

So while I attempt to get myself together (turns out work is tiring and makes your brain turn to mush while thinking about Joshua), here's a list of nerd!shua headcannons I have in no particular order:

Sloppy kisses. Not only are you and Josh constantly all over each other in public (PDA and you two are basically synonymous at this point) but it's sloppy, there's tongue and spit and touching and grinding and on campus security has definitely had their fair share of stern talking to's with you (you're actually their least favourite to break up too, since it always takes a minute or two for you to break for air and they just have to stand there and wait for you to acknowledge their existence please for the love of God will you guys just get a room holy shit)

Gifting each other a Lovense Lush and a Lovense Gush for the first year anniversary <3 presentations, tournaments, study group sessions, suddenly everything becomes a lot more interesting. I can see josh being so so so mean to you and making you cum and cum and cum until you're so sensitive and overstimulated you're in tears. On the flip side, you edge the shit out of poor little Joshie. His cum is all yours to touch, taste and play with. If he's not making a mess out of you, he's not getting release period.

Moving in together!!! Y'all are so in love that by the time the next year comes around, you don't see the point in living separately when you spend almost every waking moment together and have literally slept in the same bed every single night since you started dating. You can never get enough of your cute little nerd, and now that you live together? You never have to, ever again. He's yours to keep and hold and love forever (at least until the lease ends and you guys have to figure out living arrangements again LOOOOOL)

Also, continuing on with the living together headcannon, previous tenant left behind a bed frame for you guys (score!). Unfortunately, the old Ikea bed frame can't really take the uh, impact, of the activities you get up to, especially not at the frequency of your bedroom activities. You and Josh learn a valuable lesson about investing in sturdy furniture after the fiasco (spoiler: bed collapsed mid-fuck. Unsurprisingly, it didn't stop you guys and you kept at it until you both came)

So!! Much!! Soft!!! Pure!!! Love!!! Although you're horny and fuck pretty much constantly (are we surprised? No. Are we disappointed? Depends on how much studying you were trying to get done that day HWBSJWJSJ) there's that underlying softness of that established relationship and mutual feelings. The sex is good and it feels amazing, but nothing hits quite like the love bitten smiles early in the morning over a hot cup of coffee before school, the way you nestle your head right under his chin before you fall asleep for the night, the domesticity of shua backhugging you while you cook dinner, the soft humming of Sunday morning in your ear as you're trying to make sure the garlic doesn't burn. It hits you all at once one random Tuesday afternoon that this? This is heaven. This is everything you've ever wanted in your life and you've never, ever felt so loved and cared for before. If you could spend the rest of your life just living in domestic bliss with the cute nerd from your calculus class, you would never have another complaint. Joshua is undoubtedly the love of your life, and having him by your side makes your heart feel so, so full

Josh being a TA of a class and you sucking his dick under the desk while he holds office hours. You started entertaining yourselves because usually no one stops by (especially for not prickly little Josh. He's polite, sure, but it always feels like the vibes are off when they ask him for help. The students are scared to piss off the person that grades their exams) but for some reason, there's a pesky little brunette that ALWAYS seems to come by asking for help every single week after Josh wore a particularly tight t-shirt to class one day (though you can't blame her, his tits are to die for). The first time you sucked him off while he was explaining a question to her, you did it because you were ticked off that some first year thought they could come in and sweep your boyfriend off his feet. The following times it's because your dirty little exhibitionist boyfriend cums so incredibly hard at knowing that 1) he could be caught at any moment and 2) you're so possessive over him

Pegging. No explanation needed. It's just hot to think of Josh's sparklikg eyes filled with tears because you're fucking him so good

First I love you coming after an epiphany after a fight (this is gonna be a separate ask because I've thought about it a little too hard oops I'm mentally ill what else is new)

You being soooo annoyingly in love with your boyfriend that you become THAT girl to all your friends. Omg wait did I also tell you that Josh plays gui- Guitar and he serenades you with Sunday Morning every single Sunday morning? Yes Y/N you have now shut the fuck up holy shit

You meet his mom and on paper, you're the absolute perfect girlfriend. Smart, pretty, sweet, outgoing, so caring and so in love with his darling son. She doesn't know what a vixen you are and how you've corrupted her sweet little boy, but it's okay. Even though he doesn't have his virtue anymore, you'll make sure he's nice and taken care of

Joshie needs at least 1 (one) kiss on the lips from you every single time you see each other, no exceptions. You haven't said your proper hellos to each other if you haven't had your kiss. One time you forgot and Josh gave you the cold shoulder for a week. He takes this very seriously, don't try him.

Proposes the day of convocation to celebrate the end of one chapter of your lives together and the beginning of a new one <3

#listen you ATE #i’m literally foaming at the mouth #this was so cute #and hawt #this was everything and i’m never getting over it #ask #thatgirlfromwindsor

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body. 

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm. 

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered. 

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.” 

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?” 

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.” 

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.” 

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair. 

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly. 

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.” 

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.” 

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.” 

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die. 

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room. 

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground. 

“Who is it?” You asked. 

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered. 

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.” 

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled. 

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.” 

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.” 

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.” 

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.” 

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.” 

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.” 

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom. 

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well. 

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #will graham #the sommelier #hannigram #hannigram x you #hannigram x reader #aftercare #fluff #freddie lounds

[nakunakunomi]

Hi Hazel! Can I please have some established relationship, domestic, very very VERY fluffy lazy morning cuddle HC with Nozel, Fuegoleon and William? Thank you!

YES! Fluffy and Domestic is literally all I need at the moment QwQ. Also very first BC writing! Let’s hope I don’t disappoint. 

Lazy Morning cuddles HC - Nozel, William, Fuegoleon 

2nd person GN reader. No warnings, only fluff. 

Nozel 

Nozel is not a very cuddly type of person. He just is not used to such intimate affection, and depending on what kind of day it is, will sometimes regard it as a waste of time. There’s far more productive times to be spent with you. 

That being said, Nozel also likes spoiling his s/o, so if you explicitly ask for it, who is he to say no? 

It’s something that gets easier over time. He wants to get up, you ask him to stay and cuddle for a bit. He relents, you cuddle a little, and he can feel the heat creeping up his cheeks as you say all kinds of sweet things in your groggy morning voice and nuzzle as close as you can. 

He prefers being the big spoon when it comes to cuddling positions. It allows him to kiss the back of your neck and smell your hair, and it makes you unable to see that he’s actually a little flustered, because you’re sure to tease him a little whenever you see him blushing or looking away. 

He also likes it when you gently play with his hair, enjoying the moments that it’s unstyled and splayed across the pillow. It’s surprisingly soft to the touch too. 

Nozel will definitely return the gesture if you lay across his chest, giving him the best possible access. If you want to ‘trap him’ like that for a while, just start asking questions. He will be playing with your hair and explaining things for hours, forgetting the time for a moment, until someone else comes looking for either of you when you’re needed somewhere. 

He’d get someone to bring the both of you breakfast in bed if he wasn’t so particular about not having any food on the sheets, he likes the bed to stay neat and clean. He wíll still make sure breakfast is out and ready when you finally decide to leave the bed. 

These lazy mornings are a rarity in the beginning, but become more frequent the more he gives in and realize just how much he enjoys them. Not too often though, he’s a royal with royal duties after all on top of being a captain, he cannot give the impression that he’s lazy.

Fuegoleon 

Fuegoleon actually kind of loves cuddles, snuggles, all kinds of acts of soft intimacy. He enjoys being close to you. 

BUT, he also loves his job and duties, and will make sure everything is done as soon as possible. After all, finished duties means more time to spend with family and you right? 

Surely, but that often means this man is up even before sunrise to get paperwork in order, look over the schedules, plan missions accordingly, go to meetings.. all the things he could possibly need to do, leaving you in bed, missing him in the spot next to you. 

He’s also an expert in getting up extremely quietly, leaving a soft kiss on your lips or forehead before leaving the room. Usually you wake up way after he’s already gone. 

In the rare moments you catch him stirring right before he wakes up, that’s when you have to strike: hold onto his arm, ask him to stay. He’ll gently refuse, and you will have to push a little more.

Hold on tighter, pout a little, tell him ‘but you always leave me alone in the mornings’. It’s not the most fair tactics, but playing on his guilt will make him give in a little, albeit reluctantly. That is when you have your chance.

He will give in for ‘ten more minutes’ so you will have to extend that time yourself. Nuzzling as close as you can, intertwining limbs, making it physically difficult to get up. Pepper his face with kisses, and before you know, he’s given up and given in. 

He’ll scold you with a smile on his face for ‘making him late to work’. Kissing him is the most effective way to shut him up and he won’t stop you if you do.

There’s no preferred position when you spend your mornings like this, although, because of the very nature of the endeavor of keeping him in bed, you usually end up koala-clinging to him, much to his amusement. 

By the time he’s getting up, it’s still pretty early, but you managed to enjoy his presence for a little longer. If you’re still tired, he’ll part from you with a kiss and will leave you to enjoy a little more sleep. If you decide that you’re awake enough by now, you can have breakfast together, and he’ll let you come along on his work wherever appropriate. 

He’s got nothing against you sitting in his lap as he starts his early morning paperwork, a continuation of the earlier morning where both of you can enjoy each other’s presence just a little longer.

William 

Of these three, William is actually the easiest to convince to sleep in a little longer and cuddle instead of starting the day. You need but ask and he will gladly open his arms for you to come a little bit closer and feel his warmth. 

He needs quite a lot of time to get fully comfortable in a relationship, he’s more insecure than he lets on, and often worries if you really are not bothered by his cursed scar, even if you have already told him a thousand times that you think he is gorgeous regardless.

Once he is comfortable though, you’re not even always the one initiating. If there are no urgent duties, more often than not, William will be the one snuggling closer to you. He tries his best not to wake you up, but if you are a light sleeper, he’ll probably rouse your sleep a little by sneaking his arms around you and pulling you just a little bit closer. 

He loves to press soft kisses all over your face, making you chuckle as his long lashes tend to tickle your sensitive skin in the morning. 

If you want him to completely melt, cup his face. Just hold his cheeks and make eye contact, before placing a kiss on his lips and resting your foreheads against each other. He will not know what to say or do, he just melts in the spot, often pulling you even closer because that is the only logical bodily response he can come up with.

The atmosphere, with a little sunlight peeking through the curtains, is perfect for soft-spoken compliments and praises, in both directions. William is always very generous with his compliments for you, and finds himself accepting yours more easily when it’s just the two of you in a moment like this. 

It brings the best conversations as well, about everything and nothing. Past missions, pleasant memories, future plans, complete nonsense, ‘what if’s’... you can spend hours tracing each other’s arms and talking about all sorts of things. 

Even when it’s too hot, or when the cuddles loosen up a little to finally start the day together, there’s still an additional five minutes where you just hold hands. Fingers intertwined, a final act of closeness before it’s really getting too late and you actually need to start doing things. 

A proper good morning kiss is the icing on the cake. It’s a habit, and even when there is no cuddling to be had, it’s how you start every single day.

#Black clover #Black clover x reader #william x reader #nozel x reader #fuegoleon x reader #william vangeance x reader #nozel silva x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #fluff #domestic fluff #reader insert #headcanons #black clover headcanons #black clover fluff #black clover reader insert #requested #genderneutral reader

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

-------------------------------------

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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Hey Neighbour! - Part 7

Word Count: 3K 

Pairing: Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader 

Warning: Smut at the beginning! 18+ NSFW (you’ve been warned), a little angsty towards the end x

A/N: Well it’s been a hot minute! I hope you enjoy my loves! ♥

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Not my gif credit to the lovely owner! (Ew Ivy)

Hey Neighbour! - Part 7

Soft hands skimmed over warm skin, gentle whimpers echoed through the dimly lit room as your lips made contact with her neck sucking lightly at the delicate skin beneath feeling her hands grasp tightly at your shoulders. Gently trailing your lips down from her neck towards her chest as your hands find the end of her nightgown pushing the material up towards her hips exposing her bare smooth legs feeling her lift at the hips to help you remove her clothing revealing her red lacy panties and toned stomach, sitting up onto your heels you help her remove the gown completely your eyes trailing over her exposed breasts as she lies back gracefully against the soft pillows the soft light from the night sky basking over her giving her a beautiful glow. 

“God you're beautiful,” you whisper in the air, eyes lifting to lock with brown. Her lips curl into a mischievous grin as she crooked a finger at you beckoning you closer like a siren calling you closer. Brushing your lips against her plump ones you feel her warm breath against your skin. 

“We’ll have to keep quiet,” she reminds you, her voice laced with teasing arousal, almost challenging you to try. Your eyes search vigorously around the room squint in the low light before grinning at your find, lay loosely across her dressing table chair is one of the many ties that Ally has been using for her election talks. Glancing briefly at her you watch as her eyes take in the same thing, both eyes glinting with want. 

“I think that can be arranged,” you promise breathlessly, watching with arousal as she shivers in anticipation biting her top lip to stop herself from giggling as sweet moans fill the dark room and into the morning light. 

***

The feeling of arousal and warmth pools low within your stomach as you begin to fidget, moaning at the welcoming feeling as you start to wake. Your hands instantly reach down to touch the soft brown hair that lays spread in between your legs, a soft tried grin appearing on your face. 

“Well Good Morning to you too,” you groan out, whimpering as Ally’s tongue flicks over your sweet spot before taking the nub into her mouth drawing out a low moan from you in the process. Her eyes flicker up to meet yours as you watch her tongue swirl around your clit enjoying the sweet moans from you as you begin to thrust meeting her upwards stroke, a deep chuckle from her vibrates against your wet spot. 

“Morning, Honey.” she whispers, making her way up your body leaving a wet trail of kisses along your naked body. With her front pressed against your own, you quickly wrap your arms around her waist keeping her close as she lays her hands flat against your chest propping her chin on top of them as she leaves sweet kisses along your jaw before you capture her skilful mouth with your own. 

“Thank you for last night,” Ally murmurs, stroking her index finger across your cheekbone. You frown as your lip twitches tilting your head to the side slightly. 

“Your welcome I guess?” Ally rolls her eyes playfully at your teasing demeanour hitting your shoulder lightly. 

“Idiot, I meant for comforting me at the fair and well being here for me,” she explains, you sombre at her words watching how difficult it is for her to open up about her vulnerability. Leaning forward you kiss the tip of her nose sweetly before rolling her over onto her side making her squeal with laughter at the sudden change of position. Lying on your side facing each other you lace your fingers with hers in comfort. 

“Of course, I really care about you Ally. It’s the least you deserve after everything you’ve been through,” her eyes cast down at your words, making you reach forward to pinch her chin lightly forcing her to lock eyes. 

“I mean it  Ally,” you murmur, a smile graces upon her lips at your adoring expression. Your moment of bliss is rudely interrupted by the sound of feet stomping on the floorboards just outside of Ally’s room making you spring apart reaching blindly for the scattered pieces of clothing on the floor. 

“Mom! Mommy!” The sound of both children’s voices makes you scramble even quick to cover up your decency. 

“Just a minute, sweetie!” Ally shouts, giving you both enough time to dress as quickly as possible .

Trying to hide your giggles you take in Ally’s messy hair, her baggy sweatpants and long T-shirt. The sound of you giggle makes her look over at you, glaring at your giggling state. 

“I’m sorry it’s just you look so cute and I’ve never seen you wear sweatpants before it’s just… endearing,” you tease her, before squealing at the attack by her pillow. 

“For that you can explain to the kids why the door is locked and cook them breakfast while I shower,” she punishes, smiling sweetly at you. Still smirking you head over towards her and kiss her lips briefly. 

“Sure thing, Sweetie.” you mock, winking at her before scurrying for the door as another pillow makes it’s way over towards you, missing you by an inch. 

Quickly leaving the room, you frown when you notice the empty hallway expecting to be jumped the instant you made yourself known to the two. 

“Guys!” you shout, quickly checking both Oz’s room and the guest room finding them empty. Giggling echoes through from downstairs making you smile before heading towards the sound. 

Hiding yourself round the corner you watch the two amusingly as Oz helps Amelia pour the sugary cereal into a bowl both standing on their foot stools. Ally had bought one for Amelia the last time she stayed over for the day to help Ally bake some cookies for her Senator meeting. The thought brings a soft smile to your face, loving the close bond the two have created after only a short period. 

“Ozzy if my mommy loves your mommy does that mean we can be brother and sister?” Amelia asks him, watching as he carefully pours the milk into the bowls, spilling the contents slightly onto the countertop making Amelia reach across for the paper towels wiping the mess. Her question makes you falter slightly from your content state, sure you and Ally were growing closer with each passing day and you were falling hard for the brunette but the doubt of the pace of your relationship gives you pause. Amelia has been growing closer and closer to the Mayfair-Richards family to the point where it could be damaging for her if you and Ally weren’t to work out, especially after your ex had left the both of you alone and without warning. Deciding to make your presence known you enter into the kitchen forcing a big smile. 

“Good morning to the mischievous duo! Oh I didn’t realise you guys were making breakfast!” you exclaim with unusual enthusiasm. 

“Not for you guys silly! We made our own because you were being lazy heads!” Amelia exclaims, as Oz giggles next to her. Raising a joking brow to her you slowly make your way round the counter and capture her in your arms tickling her side as she squeals. 

“No Mommy- stuu- stop!!” she begs through her innocent giggles, deciding she’s suffered enough you let her go, placing her on one of the many breakfast stools to eat her cereal before brushing your hands through Oz’s blonde locks in greeting. 

Pouring yourself a fresh brew, you lean against the countertop watching the pair quietly as they talk about school. Your thoughts still swirling around your head; the doubt, the insecurity. It all overwhelms you and makes you fidgety as you glance towards the hallway at the sound of Ally’s light footsteps as she comes into view dressed in a pair of high waisted jeans and wooly jumper, her brown hair still damp from her shower. The brunette moves instantly towards the young pair as they continue to eat their breakfast kissing both their heads on her way past like it’s the most natural thing to do, not favouring one over the other treating Amelia as if she was her own. The sight only makes your stomach flip as anxiety creeps up into your chest. Ally finally looks over towards you with a smile that falters when she takes in your far away expression, rubbing soothing circles on your back as she sides up next to you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks, worry evident in her voice. You nod a couple of times before clearing your throat. 

“Yeah sorry, I just got caught up with some stuff that I gotta get done today for the gallery,” you reassure her, but her eyes tell you that she doesn’t quite believe you but drops it for now. 

“Okay well I’m free from my Senator duties today if you need any help at the gallery?” she offers, taking hold of your mug and taking a sip. The simple domestic action causes your heart to tighten, conflicted with your current feelings. 

“It’s okay, it’s pretty mundane mainly admin stuff plus my dad is coming to take Amelia out for their usual Grandfather Granddaughter day,” 

“Yes!! I can’t wait, we’re going for some ice cream and he’s teaching how to use my new bike!” Amelia pipes up, excited about her day ahead with her grandfather. 

Ally tries to hide her disappointment with a small smile as she turns her attention onto Amelia who fills Ally in on her typical days out with her grandfather leaving you to awkwardly wash your now finished brew. Turning back to sit at the table the awkward conversation seems to have been brushed aside and forgotten about as Ally asks you about the Gallery and it’s new section full of newly acclaimed artists from around the city. However Ally’s gaze unsettles you as if she can read your thoughts and doubts about your relationship. Deciding you needed to leave to gather your thoughts and process them without her adoring doe-eyes staring at you, you help Amelia change for the day in the guest room and bid your goodbyes. As you step outside onto the porch Amelia gasps forgetting her trusted beanie and racing back inside to grab it from the room leaving you alone with Ally as Oz runs after her. The brunette reaches subtly for your hand, her eyes shifting back and forth as she observes you quietly. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” her words hurt you more than you can describe, filling your chest with guilt hating that this is how you react when you feel cornered and overwhelmed. Pulling her in close you press a short but meaningful kiss to her lips holding her dearly. 

“I’m more than okay… I just- I’m stressed with the gallery is all,” your lie already eating away at you as you watch her relax, that familiar smile from this morning appearing on her lips. 

“Okay good because I thought- actually it doesn’t matter. We’re okay.” she reassures herself, stepping back as small footsteps make their way over towards you both. 

“I found it Mom!” Amelia announces to the group with Oz trailing behind her. Smile down at her as you watch with a heavy heart as Amelia reaches her arms out for Ally almost instantly to say goodbye as Oz does the same with you. Crouching you take the blonde boy into your arms and squeeze him tightly making him giggle. 

“Be good for your mom, yeah?” Oz nods at your request before stepping back leaning against his mother’s side as Amelia does the same with you. Ally blows you a kiss before winking at you playfully making you smile almost painfully before quickly making your way down the steps and towards your own home. 

Once Amelia had been picked up by your dad, you finally let out the tensed breath you had been holding leaning heavily against the front door and for the first time since you moved out here you cried at the potential lost love caused by your own vulnerability.

#ally mayfair richards x reader #ally mayfair richards #ally mayfair imagine #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #ahs cult #hey neighbour! series #ally x reader #ally mayfair x reader #Smut

[hotdamnhunnam]

Nefarious Shit

Charlie Hunnam: Lockdown Lovin’

A/N: Here’s a fluffy smutty little fic with Charlie being all cuddly and domestic! 🥰 Based on the below request, in which you are Mrs. Hunnam, spending quarantine with him. He’s recording this video for his fans, but your presence in the room is a distraction—and gets him in the mood for some action...

Pairing: Charlie Hunnam x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, stupidly fluffy fluff, you & him behaving like silly little idiots in love Request: Request 1 (@rochyu) + Request 2 (anon)

Word Count: ~2.2k

Note: I definitely recommend watching the actual video for context! (It’s less than 3 minutes.) This fic quotes some of Charlie’s lines from it, plus some gifs! ✨

“Hey.”

It’s a very simple word for anyone to say. One of the simplest. But somehow the way Charlie Hunnam says ‘hey’ turns you on like nobody’s business. As he starts to record, he says it with a playful smirk like it’s some kind of dirty word, and makes it sound so hot it hurts, ‘cause he’s a cheeky little bastard.

The word wasn’t even addressed to your ass in this instance. Your loving husband—yes, your husband, be that as it may, you still pinch yourself damn every day—is recording a short video for his fans. Felt the need to condemn some nefarious hooligans, using his good name in vain, for their personal gain. Ordering them to never do shit like that ever again. And warning his fans not to interact with frauds on social media who falsely represent themselves as him.

Watching him from the other end of the room, you’ve never been happier to be Mrs. Hunnam.

Charlie acknowledges to his audience that he doesn’t do stuff like this very often. “So, I don’t usually, um—make videos like this, but...”

While he records you keep distant and quiet; your marriage is thankfully private. No one else in the world needs to know that a humble civilian girl is the love of his life, and his wife, and his full-time cock-worshiping slut.

Speaking of being such a slut... you’re currently wearing nothing but Jax Teller’s legendary kutte. It’s one of your husband’s most prized possessions, hung in pride of place in his closet—he never lets anyone touch it. It’s sacred, and strictly off-limits. But on certain occasions, he tells you to strip your ass naked... and then put his kutte on so that he can fuck you in it.

So right before this little video, no more than five minutes ago, that’s what he just did. You reminisce about it, while Charlie carries on scolding the scum of the internet. “You know—far be it from me to dictate what anyone is doing, other than: if you’re using my name to do some nefarious shit...”

Meanwhile you figure you should change into a somewhat respectable outfit, smiling to yourself as you think about all the ‘nefarious shit’ you and your husband do. The whole world has no clue...

And you have no clue—though you probably should—that as soon as you take off this kutte, to put some proper shirt and pants on... your bare skin captures Charlie’s attention. And just as any dirty bastard would, now he’s already thinking of the next nefarious thing he’s gonna do to you.

***************

Charlie mentions on the video that he hasn’t left the house in a long while. As he says it he looks over at you with a chuckle and a thirsty little smile. He tries to keep it subtle, but it’s hard for him to focus when you’re half-naked and all he can think about is just how lucky he is you’re his girl. In the meantime he’s saying on record how it’s a weird time for the world, what with social distancing and isolation, and how angry he is that people would be using his good name to manipulate others in the middle of such an insane global situation.

2020 has certainly been a strange year. But you’ve been so blessed to spend every damn minute of lockdown with your loving husband, in this house that you’ve made your home, as Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Hunnam. Home is where the heart is and yours is right here.

Your man signs off, sending his fans all of his love. Well, not quite all of it of course—to be sure, the best and biggest part of his heart is all yours.

So is 100% of his dick. The two of you have been fucking roughly five times a day in the midst of this global pandemic. ‘Roughly’ as in ‘approximately’—though fortunately for you, the other meaning applies too, more often than not. After all your husband is a literal sex god.

By now you’ve put on a pink lacy bra and panties with one of Jax’s SAMCRO T-shirts thrown over your torso. So you’re hardly respectably dressed but much more so, compared to when you were in only his kutte a few moments ago.

You had been considering pants but decided against it given that this men’s tee is plenty to cover up most of your skin. It’s all soft and comfy and smells of him. Wearing his clothes as often as you want is one of the thousands of benefits of being Mrs. Hunnam.

But the biggest benefit is the enormous piece of meat between his legs. Which always treats you to the world’s most epic sex.

“Well, that was distracting as fuck,” your man playfully scolds as he slams his laptop shut. Through his grey sweatpants you can see that he’s already hard as a rock. “Good thing the camera didn’t catch sight of my cock. You cheeky little slut.”

“What? Love, it’s not as if you’ve never seen me with my clothes off...” you scoff, with a provocative bat of your lashes as he slowly crosses the room toward you.

“You think that makes the sight of you any less stunning?” he asks as he takes in the view. Although your top is mostly covered by this tee, your legs are bare to see, and Charlie loves seeing his clothes on his woman. “You know nothing, Mrs. Hunnam.”

He then approaches till he’s close enough to place his hands upon your hips, to hear your heated breathing, taste the next words from your lips: “Enlighten me, then.”

Your husband clicks his tongue at you as if he seriously disapproves. You often jump at any chance for 50 Shades roleplay given the role that he turned down some time ago and Charlie is all too familiar with your moves. “Now, Y/N, I think you just mixed up two very separate pop culture references.”

“Then maybe you should educate me on the differences...” you suggest. Of course you’re well aware that Christian Grey and Jon Snow are two very different men, and Charlie knows that but it’s fun for you to both pretend. “You’re the movie star, after all. What does this so-called ‘enlightenment’ involve?”

He smiles and shakes his head, referring back to the first time that he played Mr. Grey in the bedroom as if you could ever forget. “I’ve already given you a lesson in proper submission.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t listen.”

“I doubt that,” he purrs, suddenly reaching to rip the shirt off of your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. “You look prettier without that.”

You hadn’t resisted at all but it’s fun to pretend that you had. Scowling at him as if you’re mad, you then reach up and tap your palm against the top of his head with a patronizing pat. “Well, you looked better with the hat.”

Charlie gasps as if appalled, insulted to the core of his soul. “Hey, that’s not fair...!”

“I told you to do something with your hair,” you remind him of the brief conversation you’d had before he recorded. Acting as if you’re seriously scolding him though you both know you’re not at all. “Or at least to keep that fucking hat on over it. Instead you showed up looking like a chicken with that ridiculous tuft sticking out at the back of your head, and then admitted to the world you need to get your hair sorted.”

There’s a mirror on the wall nearby, and you gesture toward it, so that Charlie can see with his own two eyes. He realizes he really does look like the world’s sexiest chicken. “So what, now looking like a chicken is a sin?”

“Of course it is.”

He flashes you a precious pout, knowing you’ll be desperate to kiss it off his mouth. “But you once told me I could strut around in a potato sack and still look gorgeous.”

It’s all too true yet you refuse to take the bait. Instead decide to make him wait. “I just said that to butter you up so you’d marry me, sucker.”

“Motherfucker—!” Charlie gasps again, as you start running away from him flapping your arms like a chicken.

You laugh back at him. “More like motherclucker!”

The two of you are very adult—perhaps to a fault—when it comes to the hot filthy sex that you have with him. Honestly filthy as hell. But when it comes to foreplay and teasing and everything else... you are literally just a couple of overgrown idiot children.

Charlie chases you all through the halls and downstairs to the kitchen. “Don’t tempt me into punishing you!”

Needless to say you want him to. “Oooh, you mean with that big cock-a-doodle-doo?”

He finally catches you as you run to the living room, your laughter picking up in volume, pinning you down to the sofa as he ruins you with his icy blue stare. “Shut up about the fucking hair.”

His hands are so close to your neck and you just wish that he would put them there and squeeze. “Mmm, but you’re so much fun to tease...”

Instead of choking you, he drops his hands down toward your chest, tracing the lacy fabric of your bra to grab your breasts, tenderly stroking you. “I bet you think this is when I say to get on your fucking knees.”

You moan at the touch of his talented fingers, begging in a breathless whisper. “Fuck, yes please...?”

“No,” he responds, so brutally denying what his woman wants. “For once, that’s not how this is gonna go. Sit up.”

He props you comfortably in position, amidst all the cushions. Ignoring your urge to get down on the floor, in submission, serve him as his cocksucking whore. Play your usual role as the good little slut. “But—”

“Stay up,” he interrupts. “I don’t wanna play rough. Today I’m feeling soft.”

“Well, that’s a lie...” you reply, lowering your eyes, one hand reaching to graze the prize bulging between his thighs.

“Hands off the merchandise. Let me indulge in playing nice.”

“But whyyy?” you protest with a sigh. “I’ve been such a bitch, hoping that I would get punished for it...”

Your man just shakes his gorgeous chicken-haired head. “You mean rewarded. There’s no point in getting punished when you’re gunning for it.”

Well, fuck him for being so fucking correct. “Charlie...”

“Shhh,” he hushes you softly, as you realize that this is how you’re getting punished: he hears your inner cockslut loud and clear but is determined to ignore it. “Just lie back and let me love this body that belongs to me. Admire and adore it.”

And at those words off of his lips, which he seals with a loving kiss... you lose all power and desire to resist. You’re so completely fucking his. As eager as you always are for rough and filthy sex—as much as part of you will always want to beg—you’re equally obsessed with this. Getting lost in his touch, sweet kisses and caresses from the man you love so much, drowning in the pure magic of romantic bliss.

You love each other so much it’s ridiculous. Hilarious. Downright nefarious.

Within seconds both of your clothes are gone, like they were never even on. His every move is slow yet sudden all at once. The warmth of his soft lips and tongue lavishing love across your chest, his mouth latching around your breast, two fingers slipping in the hot flood of your cunt. Thumb playing with your swollen clit, as he keeps passionately sucking on your tits. 

Time fucking bends, seconds to minutes, hours even, as your man descends, until his mouth is where his hand had been—when did that even happen?—every inch of his tongue sending you to heaven. Soon enough he seamlessly replaces his mouth with his cock, and by then... fuck, you’re honestly done. So far gone. He never has to ask to know exactly what you want, because he’s everything you want. And need and love.

As mind-blowing as Charlie is at playing rough, he’s just as good at being soft. He’s all about the fluff and stuff. One tender hand sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, the other reaching down to pull you near.

There are so many words he doesn’t have to say for you to hear. 

Just how grateful he is, that you are his. To have you here. It’s been a weird and crazy year—so fucking weird—and heavy with the weight of blood and tears, the whole world literally plagued with pain and fear. But the love that you share with your husband, is the one thing that’s always constant, true and clear.

And the love he makes... cradles your heart till it’s so full it aches, fucking breaks, as your whole body quakes and the earth fucking shakes. Knowing that he will spend all his life putting every last piece into its perfect place, and holding it together whatever it takes.

It’s not fair that a man like this even exists. Let alone that you’re so fucking blessed to be his. It’s some serious, downright nefarious shit. Gazing up into his eyes of endless blue, you realize for the thousandth time no girl in all the world is luckier than you.

And of course once this session of soft tender loving is through—then, to make all your deepest and dirtiest dreams cum true... there are at least fifty thousand shades of filthy shit your nefarious husband can do.

***************

Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did! 🤗💖

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#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam smut #charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam fic #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #jax teller #sons of anarchy #soa #rpf #rpf fanfic #rpf fanfiction #celebrity imagines

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Possession

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales/You (female reader with thin body, established relationship, no kids)

Words: 2,592

Warnings: Talk of weight loss and working out in order to achieve weight loss (hers), fellatio, Sir!Frankie, some spanking, rough sex, dirty talk.

Summary: Frankie finds your gym clothes and worries (but not really) about you forgetting who you belong to as you flaunt your hot body around the gym in mini shorts and crop tops.

Paging @apascalrascal for helping me with Frankie's motivation here. Thank you, dearie! *mwah*

“Baby, what’s this?”

You glance over at Frankie who’s marching into the bathroom, holding up a couple of garments which you recognize from the laundry basket. He’s been home for a few days and today you’ve finally settled into some kind of domestic rhythm that doesn’t involve having sex as soon as you lay eyes on each other.

You turn your attention back to the mirror, and the cotton round you’re using to clean your eye makeup off.

“Workout clothes. Why?”

“You go to the gym wearing this? In public?”

“Well, it’s a gym, but yeah, I guess it’s a public place. What’s the problem?”

You put the cotton down and frown at him but finding it hard to keep your face straight: Frankie’s looking scandalized and concerned at the same time. The garments he’s holding up are a pair of tiny shorts and a netted crop top with a built-in sports bra. You realize he hasn’t seen them before, they’re quite new, you got them while he was deployed. And he was gone for four months this time around; time you spent at the gym because you had nothing better to do.

“You’re telling me you’re parading yourself around the gym in these?”

“So what?”

You toss the cotton round into the waste basket and turn to Frankie. You know very well what he’s getting at, but you want him to confess it and own up to being a possessive little macho prude.

“They’re tiny!” he exclaims in a voice that suggests he’s talking about the moral bankruptcy of America, not your gym clothes.

“Yes, because working out makes me sweat and with those clothes I can be more comfortable,” you explain patiently, like he’s a child. Internally, you’re grinning like an idiot because this is delightful.

“You used to wear, like, leggings and a t-shirt,” Frankie reminds you sourly. “What makes you want to wear this now?”

You grin then, confident and teasing.

“Because I’ve lost a lot of weight, built a lot of muscle, and I now have a smoking hot body that I’m proud to show off.”

It’s true: you spent most of your free time during Frankie’s last deployment in the gym. You had had a membership for a couple of years now and used it every once in a while but this had been his first deployment since you two moved together, and coming home to an empty house had been unbearable to you. You started going to the gym more, first with a friend, then by yourself. You even booked the PT for an individual plan, one that you had been following strictly. You were happy with the results and had treated yourself to a new workout wardrobe, indulging in tiny shorts and crop tops, clothes you never thought you’d wear in public before this.

The corners of Frankie’s mouth twitch and he smiles despite himself, but his eyes are still dark.

“Do you have to show it off to all kinds of people? Can’t you just limit yourself to me?” he suggests, holding up the clothes again. “I mean… it’s basically underwear!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” You roll your eyes. “Underwear is what I’m wearing now, and it’s nowhere near that bad.”

You’re very pleased with Frankie’s reaction, though. It’s strange but a display like this from any of the previous men you used to date would have sparked huge fights, and now… you like it when Frankie has opinions about what you wear in public. One reason is that you know that he would never try to stop you or judge you for it.

“Do other women dress like this at the gym?” Frankie wants to know. You have to take a moment to recall. You don’t pay attention to what anybody is wearing when you’re working out.

“I don’t know, Frankie, I don’t spend a lot of time looking at what people are wearing when I’m working out.”

“So basically you could all be semi naked there.”

“You’re so ridiculous,” you sigh and splash water in your face. As you’re patting your skin dry with a towel, the clothes land next to you on the countertop.

“Put them on.”

“What?”

“Put them on. Show them to me.”

You look up at Frankie, frowning, only to find his brown eyes dark and fixed on yours in a predatory manner.

Oh. Okay, then.

You turn your back to him and take off your bra, knowing full well that he can catch more than a fair share of side boob in the mirror. You then wriggle into the top, adjust the built-in bra, and bend over to pull on the shorts. When dressed, you turn around and slant your hips to the side, planting your hand to it.

“See? Perfectly normal workout clothes.” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently.

“Shut up,” Frankie tells you in a husky growl, his eyes wandering over your body, making your skin rise in goosebumps. You’ve had so much sex since he got back to last you for a week but apparently, you’re about to go for another round.

“You just gonna stand there and watch?” you purr. His reply is immediate and delivered in a low, rough voice.

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

“I have a problem with authority.”

“I can see that. Insolent girl.”

Desire pools deep in your belly at his words and in anticipation of what’s about to happen. In a few strides, Frankie’s right in front of you, brows pulled together and mouth set in a grim line.

“On your knees,” he commands you.

“Fucking make me,” you defy him, and he makes you regret it immediately. Grabbing you by the arm, he maneuvers you around and bends you over the sink before slapping your ass quite hard. A strangled cry escapes your lips and Frankie meets your eyes in the mirror. You give him a small nod to tell him that you’re okay, and he responds by caressing the butt cheek he just slapped, his hand warm and soft, before raising it and bringing it back down on your shorts-covered skin.

“Had enough?” he asks, and you throw him a provocative glance in the mirror, lower lip caught between your teeth.

“Apparently not,” he notes, and slaps you again, this time on the other buttock. You can’t prevent the loud yelp from escaping your lips as your body quivers with lust.

“You gonna take what I give to you now?” Frankie wants to know. You inhale slowly.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

He grabs you by the neck and pulls you up before turning you around and pressing you down to your knees in front of him. He’s already sporting a bulge and you can barely contain your excitement as you pull down his sweatpants and boxer briefs. His cock springs free and you look up at him and lick your lips.

“That’s it, beautiful girl, fucking suck it already.” Frankie strokes your hair and, to your surprise, doesn’t press your face to his crotch, but lets you decide the pace. You cup his balls with one hand and close your fingers around the base of his dick with the other, and lean in for a light swirl of the tongue on the moist tip. Frankie exhales audibly above you. Slowly, you take his cock in your mouth, deeply, before releasing it with a pop and once against licking the tip and down to the base. Your fingers play with his balls, appreciating the familiar weight of them, as you pump his cock with your other hand a couple of times before going back to sucking him. Letting go of his balls, you slide your hand to his thigh and over to his hip, where you move him in rhythm with your sucking. He catches your drift and starts to slowly, carefully, fuck your mouth.

”Fuck, that’s my good girl, letting me fuck your pretty little mouth like this,” he groans, and you moan in return, your pussy throbbing for his cock. You let your hand rest lightly on his thigh, ready to press him away if he goes too fast or too hard, but he sticks to a pace you can cope with. That’s one of the things that you really appreciate with Frankie: even when he’s rough he takes your comfort into consideration. He’d never thrust his dick down your throat like you were a fuck doll.

You glance up at him and see that him grabbing the sink with one hand. The other is nestling into your hair but the grip is light. You get ready to finish him when he pulls out without warning, leaving a string of saliva hanging between your lips and his cock.

”Your mouth feels so good, baby girl,” he growls, looking down at you and grabbing your chin, angling your face up so you can meet his stern gaze. ”But I know you have another hole that feels even better.” His large thumb passes over your lips and you part them, sucking his digit into your mouth. God, you love it when he talks like this to you. He’s a communicative lover but this kind of dirty talk isn’t on the menu too often.

”Tell me what you want, pet,” he coos to you, surprisingly soft now, stroking your hair. You wet your lip and swallow the taste of his precum. He’s going to make you beg for it. You know exactly what to say and how to say it for him to give it to you directly, but you know this is a game, you have to play helpless, give him a reason to prolong the wait.

”I want you to fuck me,” you moan, your hand on his thigh. He swats it away as you try to take his dick again. It’s so close to your face, you could suck it some more, make him groan, make him cum.

”Eyes up, baby girl,” he tells you and you obey, your lower lip caught between your teeth. ”Tell me again. What do you want me to do?”

”Fuck me.”

”Fuck you, what?”

”Sir.”

”Fuck your what?”

”Fuck my tight, wet pussy, sir,” you whimper. ”Please, I’m so wet for you, sir.”

Frankie unexpectedly pulls you up and you almost lose your balance and tumble into him but are only met by a punishing kiss when his tongue invades your mouth. You barely have time to kiss him back before he turns you around and bends you over the sink again. His movements are quick and precise as he pulls the top over your head and frees your breasts, and then pulls down your shorts and drenched through panties. He lifts one of your legs and hooks his arm around the bend of your knee before lining up his dick along the slickness of your pussy. With a forceful snap of his hips, he drives the whole of his length in, making you cry out. He starts to fuck you energetically and you notice that he keeps staring at your bouncing tits in the mirror, so you thrust your chest out and meet his gaze. His free arm snakes around your hips and his fingers find your clit, and a surge of intense pleasure cuts through you as he presses down on it.

“Let me hear it, baby girl,” he grunts in your ear and you moan loudly with each hard thrust into you. “Talk to me, be a good girl.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, bracing yourself against the edge of the sink. “You fuck me so good, sir, you make me feel so good!”

“That’s right,” he encourages you, “nobody but me can fuck you like this, sweet girl.”

“Nobody,” you wail as his fingers rub your clit with a relentless pressure and speed. “Nobody but you owns my pussy, baby, only you own that pussy.”

“Damn straight, and I’m going to fuck this pussy until I come all over it,” he huffs, his hold of your leg tightening. You close your eyes, giving in to the intense sensations and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, Frankie’s loud breathing, your own moans, the quickening between your legs. Frankie keeps slamming you against the edge of the countertop – your hips will have a bruise – and oh god, he hits you just right, so deep, so full, fuck it, you’re going to –

“Fucking look at me when I fuck you,” Frankie growls and you force your eyes open and meet his stare in the mirror. He’s the picture of determination as he stakes his claim, shows you who you belong to, as if you ever doubted it, as if you ever wanted to be anyone else’s but his. You forget yourself as you are pushed over the edge and start to fall free.

“I… Frankie, please, I’m gonna –“

“That’s it, baby, come on, come all over my cock,” Frankie groans as your pussy clenches in orgasm. He’s still rubbing your clit with two skilful fingers and thrusting deep and hard into your, not slowing down even when you start to shake with your orgasm. Loud moans escape your pursed lips and Frankie speeds up and growls as he shoots you full of cum. He curses in your ear and his fingers dig into the soft skin of your thigh, easing the build-up of a cramp. For a second, you fear you’ll lose your balance and both of you are going to fall and bang your heads on the tile floor, but Frankie’s arms are securing you and when he lets your leg down, he doesn’t let go of you until he knows you’re steady on your feet. You lean your elbows onto the counter, catching your breath and still shivering from the aftermath of the orgasm. Frankie slips out of you, leaving you feeling strangely empty, and you catch him in the mirror as he appreciated the creampie oozing out between your folds. You sway your hips teasingly and he meets your gaze in the mirror and pass his hand through his damp curls, smiling at you.

“Okay?” he asks, carefully pulling you up to stand and turning you around, greeting you with a long, sincere kiss. You wrap your arms around him and pull him in closer.

“As long as I’m yours, I’m okay,” you let him know. “I love you.”

“And I you.” Frankie kisses the tip of your nose and smiles. “And I did notice you’ve lost weight. I just didn’t want to say anything in case it was a touchy subject.”

“It’s not,” you assure him. “I just missed you so much when you were away, baby, I had to focus on something. Going to the gym seemed as good a thing as any.”

“Sorry my absence sent you to the fuckin’ gym,” Frankie murmurs, making you laugh. He’s not a fan of working out but is required to keep his body in some kind of shape. The day he finally retires will certainly be celebrated as the day he no longer has to work out for his job.

“Can I wear whatever I want now that you’ve established who I belong to?” you ask innocently. Frankie grins.

“I would never tell you what you can and cannot wear, you know that, baby.”

“Oh, so all of that claiming just now –“

“Was just an act, yes.”

“Gasp!” You feign dismay and clutch imaginary pearls at your clavicle. “Sir! I feel so used!”

Frankie grabs your ass cheeks and squeezes before lowering his lips to your neck for a teasing bite.

“Watch it so I don’t claim you all over again, baby girl.”

#my fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

[nik-the-bik]

Henriel Week Day 4: Fireside

“Perhaps It’s the Wine”

Summary: Jekyll is super attracted to Gabriel and Gabriel is oblivious

CW: Alcohol, sex mention, and enough sexual tension to take out a priest, but nothing that veers too NSFW.

Gotta thank @corvidayyy for the awesome prompt because I'm surprisingly proud of this one?

****

It was a bitterly windy evening in January, but the guests at Dr. Jekyll’s home were none the wiser. That night he hosted an extravagant dinner for many of his friends and colleagues, sparing no expense for the endless array of hors d’oeuvres, hearty meats, and assortment of rare wines and spirits. Most everyone left the dinner party warmed with a good meal and head fuzzy from drink. As the evening crawled on into the deepest hours of the night, all that remained in Dr. Jekyll’s parlor were himself and his two oldest friends, Dr. Lanyon and Mr. Utterson.

The three sat around a roaring fire reminiscing about their boyhood follies, having animated discussions as they corrected each other’s memories and laughed at long forgotten stories. Some of the last of the wine was passing from hand to hand as they all sank comfortably into its stupor.

Henry opened the final bottle he had bought for the occasion and poured himself and Utterson another glass as Lanyon finally rose from his chair and stretched.

“What’s the matter, Hastie? We’ve got just a bit more wine left! Surely you can stay for one more drink?” Henry asked.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I’ve had more than my fair share,” said Lanyon, straightening his appearance as he prepared to bid his goodbyes. “I feel that any more would be too dangerous—I’m not as avid a drinker as I used to be, and I’ll lose my head entirely.”

“Suit yourself,” Henry chuckled. He and Gabriel Utterson shook his hand goodnight as Lanyon made his way out the door, but not without a few more jabs at his friends. The three were left with laughter ringing in their ears as he left them, Henry and Gabriel relaxing into the plush armchairs closest to the warm fireplace.

The two sat in silence for some time, feeling quite at ease with each other. The situation was not new to either of them—many a dinner party had ended with these two being left alone at the end of the night, softly whispering philosophy with each other or simply dwelling on memories while nursing one last drink before turning in for the night. These quiet, intimate moments were perhaps the ones that Henry Jekyll looked forward to most out of these evenings. Jekyll put down his empty glass and turned himself to face his best friend.

Gabriel Utterson looked beautifully relaxed. He had sunken into his own armchair, one arm around the back while the other lazily twirled the little remaining wine in his glass. He had one leg up on the ottoman, and a rare, small smile of sheer contentment rested on his face, as his eyes hungrily watched the roaring fire before them, cheeks rosy from the wine. Jekyll was captivated – warmed both by the glow of the fire and the soft glow of hedonistic bliss radiating from this man before him, a man who had always lingered in the back of his mind as the example of moral perfection. Yes, Gabriel Utterson was beautiful, and finding him in this tiny moment of domestic pleasure, Jekyll felt that old secret yearning ignite within him once more.

His attraction to Utterson was not something Jekyll let himself dwell on frequently, but on instances where the pangs of desire struck, they often were crippling in their intensity. Tonight was no exception.

Henry suddenly regretted that he never learned to be a painter, wishing that he had the talent needed to capture Gabriel Utterson in this moment. When he felt brave enough to confess as much out loud, Utterson let out a soft chuckle, and his eyes twinkled as his smile became broader across his face.

“Whatever would you want to paint ME for?” he asked, turning his attention away from the fire for the first time, and looking directly into Jekyll’s eyes. Jekyll’s heart stopped for the briefest of moments before his insides turned to butter under Gabriel’s warm, affectionate gaze.

“Well,” Henry started, averting his own eyes as he felt the heat rise to his face. “I guess it’s because you look so…effortlessly happy. It certainly suits you.”

Gabriel laughed again, a cozy, inviting laugh. “Perhaps it’s all of the wine.”

Henry Jekyll couldn’t help but grin himself and bring his eyes back to Utterson’s. He reached for the wine bottle that they had started just before Lanyon had left them and decided to refill his glass. “It certainly is good wine,” he said, scooting his chair a bit closer to Utterson’s in order to top off his glass as well.

“It is good wine,” Utterson reaffirmed, clinking their glasses together and giving him a jovial wink. Henry Jekyll nearly choked on his own drink—why was everything that Gabriel did suddenly so captivating, so…seductive? He was grateful that Utterson had turned his attention back to the fire as he dried his lips with a handkerchief, heart beating loudly in his ears. He had been secretly attracted by Utterson plenty of times before, but somehow tonight, somehow this was more than Henry Jekyll was able to take, and perhaps most maddening of all was how the seduction seemed entirely unintentional on Gabriel’s part.

Yes, this entire evening had been near perfect. Great food, plenty of alcohol, engaging conversation—the pièce de resistance for the night would be great sex, and the primal part of Henry Jekyll was suddenly roaring for it.

Another sip of wine as he stared into the open flame of the fireplace, and suddenly his heart was braced and tongue was loosened just enough to do something a bit foolish.

“You should stay the night, Gabriel.”

“Mmm?” Gabriel lazily hummed, turning his attention back to Henry. God was he gorgeous.

“It’s so late, and the weather tonight…I would prefer to know you were here, safe.”

“Thank you, Harry, but I couldn’t possibly intrude for much longer,” Gabriel said, suddenly shifting in his seat.

Jekyll leaned forward, putting a hand on Gabriel’s knee to stop him. “But I insist! It’s no intrusion, none at all, not when I have so many empty beds—”

“I still have my carriage waiting…”

“Send them home for tonight, and tomorrow you can take mine.”

Gabriel was quiet, only just now noticing that Henry’s hand was still resting on his knee.

“Henry, it would be lovely, but I really shouldn’t stay much later, not when I have so much work waiting for me tomorrow,” he said, turning his face back to the fire.

Jekyll brought the last of his glass of wine to his lips and downed it in one swallow, setting the glass aside and leaning still closer to his companion.

“I am requesting the honor of being hospitable to my dearest friend,” Henry said, voice lilting. He decided to give him the most sultry stare that he could muster. “I do so enjoy the pleasure of your company.”

Gabriel turned his bright, beaming face back to Henry’s, a sweet, naïve giggle escaping him. “I have really enjoyed our visit too.”

Beautiful, innocent, oblivious Gabriel! He had no idea what Henry was getting at!

This wouldn’t do, this wouldn’t do at all. The primal monster inside Henry was hungry, demanding he be sated. He bit down on his lower lip as he pictured himself losing control and yanking Gabriel’s face forward into a deep, passionate kiss, arms encircling his waist, Gabriel’s fingers trailing along his spine... But no, as tempting as the fantasy was, that couldn’t happen either. Not yet.

“It would certainly break my heart to have to spend tonight alone,” Henry said, slowly moving the hand from Gabriel’s knee upwards, rubbing up and down his thigh. “If you were here, well, I could imagine we could make it worth both of our trouble…” he trailed off, delighting in the feeling of Gabriel’s warm, firm thigh in his hand, unconsciously tightening his grip, tongue just starting to touch his lip as he continued rubbing, letting his hand wander ever closer to--

Gabriel’s hand snatched Henry’s away. Henry looked up at Gabriel, who was blushing furiously.

Oh. Gabriel finally understood.

Oh God, he finally understood that Henry--!!

“We shouldn’t,” was all he said.

Henry Jekyll’s heart was racing faster than it ever had before, his face hot with shame, or was it just the fire? Why had he allowed himself to indulge in this secret want of his?

But the foolish, drunken part of Henry’s brain began to chime in. He said WE shouldn’t! Emphasis on the WE!

He didn’t seem offended or angry or ashamed, did he? Just…flustered? Could that possibly mean…?

Jekyll realized that Utterson was still holding his hand. Casting off any sense of caution, he drew Gabriel’s hand towards him, clasped in both of his, desperate to salvage the moment.

“Forgive me, Gabriel, I sometimes forget myself and…”

“It’s alright,” Gabriel said, unable to meet his eyes. His breathing seemed a bit more shallow than usual.

“I'm so sorry if I was inappropriate--I want you to know,” Henry continued, drawing Gabriel’s hand towards his own heart. “That you mean the world to me, and that I would hate to completely jeopardize—”

“It’s alright,” Gabriel insisted again. “You don’t need to apologize. You haven’t done anything.”

“I’m a weak man,” Henry said. “A slave to my most base, sensual urges, many of which, I must humbly confess, center around you.” With that, Henry drew Gabriel’s hand towards his lips, kissing it tenderly. When Gabriel didn’t pull away, Henry continued to plant kisses all over his hand, losing all sense of hesitation as he began to dip into the frenzy of his own desire.

Gabriel finally retracted his hand from Henry’s greedy lips, his whole face red. “Perhaps it’s just the wine making you feel this way,” Gabriel said, pulling his own chair a little further away from Jekyll. “I know I can definitely feel it enacting a certain…influence…”

Henry straightened himself up, running a hand through his hair as he tried to regain his composure after his brief slip into blind ecstasy. “Perhaps it is the wine,” he confessed. He grabbed the bottle, nearly empty now, and decided to pour one small, final glass for himself.

“It’s very, very good wine,” Gabriel said, offering his glass for the remainder. He had his hand half covering his face, still brilliantly pink, eyes sparkling slightly as they peered at him between his fingers.

Henry smiled as he raised a silent toast to his companion, a thrill in his heart as it foolishly began to harbor the belief that maybe, just maybe, this overwhelming desire wasn’t entirely his alone.

#henriel week 2021 #henriel #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #jekyll and hyde #doctor jekyll #henry jekyll #mr utterson #gabriel utterson #jekyll/utterson #jekyll and hyde fanfic #nikki tries to be a writer #this feels unbearably raunchy to my little ace self #like...hands??? on thighs??? i better call the church! #maybe it's the catholicism talking idk #also for anyone under the legal drinking age: sometimes wine makes you feel like being slutty stay safe out there

[machi-kun]

syrup

Tony is a playboy, and he’s good at it. He never leaves a partner unsatisfied, he never leaves a phone number – and he always leaves before breakfast.

And then there’s this one guy. Steve.

In the morning after, making pancakes before Tony can escape.

This is a fill for the 2020 Stony Bingo, Round 2! Square S-1: pancakes ;)

Read it on AO3 | Morning After, Awkwardness, Fluff | Rated T

****

“Hey.” Steve says, smiling. “Good morning.”

Tony, fully dressed and expertly sneaking out, stops before he can even close the bedroom door, head turning so quickly in the direction of the kitchen he almost pulls a muscle.

He looks to the side, where he remembers seeing a clock – yep, there it is, and it says 6:11 AM on it, which is unholy and vile, an hour no one should be awake at, much less a Saturday, and yet, here is his one-night-stand, by the stove, making breakfast.

Tony thought he was in the bathroom. He even left a note. The door was closed, and he thought he heard water running – fuck, it’s raining out, isn’t it?

Not that it matters now that he’s already been busted, but still.

It’s gonna be even more awkward now, waiting for a cab.

“Yeah, uh. Morning.” Tony replies, after a weird, awkward attempt to clear his throat. It feels horribly sore, and he’s not sure if it’s from the noises or the other thing, but it’s probably both. A glass of water might help with that, but coffee is always a distracting temptation. “You’re up early.”

Which is an understatement. But what other way can Tony convey the feeling of why are you not conveniently unconscious so I can leave without sounding like a complete asshole?

“So are you.” Steve – and even if Tony wanted to forget his name he couldn’t, because he said it a lot last night, and Steve is still smiling, friendly, cute, and a little smug, like he somehow knows what Tony’s thinking. “I’ve always been an early riser. Usually I would be going for a run right now, but I didn’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

Maybe this would have been easier if he had.

“Thanks.” Tony rasps, walking a little closer but not sitting down anywhere, still holding his shoes, looking as out of place as an elephant in a rose field. Steve places the coffee pot back in the counter, close to Tony’s reach, next to a cute, yellow mug, with a tiny picture of a cat on it. It’s empty, and Tony really wishes it wasn’t but he’s too unsettled to reach out and actually fill it for himself.

The silence stretches, only low crinkles of plastic and the muffled sound of traffic and – there it is, rain, coming from outside the small window in Steve’s tiny, modest kitchen – act as the soundtrack for the world’s most suffocating breakfast ever.

“I made pancakes.” Steve says, after an unbearably long time, turning around with a plate full of blueberry pancakes, dammit, Tony’s favorites.

Did he tell him that last night? He can’t remember. He might have.

Usually Tony wouldn’t have a problem with this, even if his partner for the night happened to catch him while he snuck out. This is not his first time. It’s not even his fifth, or his tenth. He’s had this encounter before, and to be fair, this is proving to be quite amicable compared to other possible reactions he’s experienced in the past; Far preferable to being attacked with shoes, no doubt, but it still feels way worse than all the other times.

Maybe it’s just because Steve isn’t his usual partner. There were no pulsing lights or thrumming bass or sweet drinks to set the mood, no darkness to disguise the truth in the flirty banter – the bar had been awful, and Tony left not even forty minutes after arriving, once he spotted Sunset Bain far too close to his own booth for his comfort. Steve was not there. No.

Steve was at the small, quaint little diner Tony found a couple blocks away after walking around aimlessly, tending to the costumers with far too much energy for the late hour, and he had coffee and snacks, and Tony never even hesitated.

Makes sense Tony would tell him about the pancakes. Tony has no idea what else he told Steve – he sat down, Steve looked at him, and he had no idea what had happened next. It had been almost closing hours, Tony gathered by the almost empty café, but he and Steve seemed to be talking for hours. But it couldn’t have been that long, considering they still came back here, and it’s barely six now. How – What the hell happened? How did a simple stop by a diner turned into a freaking date, and then into sleeping together, so quickly, and he hadn’t even noticed?

And Steve had been so – so nice. Gorgeous, of course he’s gorgeous, but more than that; He smelled like orange and vanilla, from the pastries, he said, ah, that’s when Tony complained about the lack of blueberries. He remembers now.

“Too much?” Steve chuckles, interrupting his thoughts, and it’s got a shaky, uncertain tone to it, and it immediately turns Tony into an anxious, fumbling, not suave at all mess.

“No, it’s—” He coughs. “It’s fine.”

Steve’s eyes narrow just a bit, and something teasing pulls at the edge of his smile, almost malicious. “That’s a little hard to believe, considering you were going to sneak out on me.”

“That’s – uh – hm.” He forces out a laugh. “It’s not personal, don’t worry. I just— I had a great night, don’t worry—”

“Oh, I’m not worried.” Steve’s eyes shine again with that spark of mirth, and Tony, running on barely any sleep and a rush of endorphins that has yet to go away with how thoroughly they got it on when they finally made it to bed, has to shamefully admit that he goes a little hot at the sight. “I get it. Morning after, it’s awkward. Haven’t done this much, so I thought maybe the way to make it less awkward would be breakfast?”

“That’s really nice of you.” Tony comments, and he completely means it. “Nicer than sneaking out, I guess.”

“Both have their benefits, I think.” Steve sways his head from side to side, trying to be placating. “Well. I’ve made them. You can have some if you like, but if you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”

See what he means? Nice. Steve’s nice.

Not everyone would react this well. This calm.

“What would be more awkward, if I stayed, or if I left?”

Steve unexpectedly laughs. “I don’t know. Is this your first time getting caught?”

“First time sober – well, not hangover, at least.” Tony admits, and he’s pleasantly surprised there’s no judgment, no derision in Steve’s tone when he assumes, correctly, that Tony is an experienced runaway after one-night-stands. He’s just amused, like it’s ridiculous, and it is. It is ridiculous that they’re both so embarrassed now, when they were both fully sober and fully consenting to go home together last night.

And it can’t be because of the sex, because it had been fantastic.

So maybe it’s really just because this is… new. In some ways. New for Steve, as far as hook-ups go, and new for Tony as far as incredibly sweet partners go.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He could leave.

But—

Should he?

Does he want to?

“Well, I did have a great night, Tony. Thanks.” Steve looks down for a second, sheepish, as if he’s not sure if he should be thanking someone for sex, or for… whatever it was that happened between them last night, this weird pull that’s keeping Tony frozen in the spot and not sending him bolting through the door at the first chance he gets. “Maybe I won’t see you again, but at least I want you to know how much I enjoyed it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Tony tells him.

“After last night?” Steve looks up at him from beneath his long, beautiful lashes, and Tony is caught so off guard he feels his face heating up and hopes Steve can’t see it. “I kinda think I do.”

“You repaid the favor quite nicely, mister” Tony flirts back, before he can think twice about it, feeling inexplicably amused by the sudden turn in Steve’s behavior – awkward, but still flirty? That’s… good. Very good, actually. It feels a bit like an invitation, like Steve’s trying to figure out if he can get Tony to give up on leaving if he can seduce him back into bed. Tony doesn’t know why that doesn’t make him want to run. It usually would.

But Steve made him blueberry pancakes.

Steve’s nice. Steve’s… different.

Tony doesn’t want to leave before he can figure out how.

“Well… I could have some breakfast.” Tony decides.

Steve’s smile is adorable, soft and sweet at the edges, just like the pastry he’d given Tony last night, just like his kisses – and Tony wonders if it would be just as sweet in the morning.

“And then later, I could have your number?” Steve asks, bold, and the shock of it is softened by the sweet smell of pancakes, the richness of the coffee Steve pours into the little cat mug, the sound of rain falling outside, the almost painfully domestic atmosphere of this cute kitchen in a lazy Saturday morning.

Steve sits across from him, fork in hand, decided to share the meal it seems – and Tony remembers last night, when both of them shared the last slice of the key lime pie the diner had for sale, leaning over the counter to be closer, like teenagers in love sharing sips from a milkshake, talking about motorcycles of all things, and he doesn’t know how something so simple can be so endearing, but it is.

Tony’s stomach does a flip, and just for now, he pretends it’s from hunger.

“Yes, Steve.” Tony rolls his eyes, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. “As soon as we’re done with breakfast.”

Pancakes now.

Maybe that’ll make Steve’s mouth taste even sweeter later.

#stevetony #stony #superhusbands #tony stark #steve rogers #machi writes #stony bingo #stony bingo 2020

[storage73011]

What are you smiling about?

➳ Prompt #2 - What are you smiling about? (more prompts)

➳ Summary: Y/N reminisces about the past 

➳ Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader

➳ Warnings: Fluff, Angst if you squeeze, no beta we die like man, english not being my main language, so I am sorry if I made any mistakes, please don’t hesitate to correct me

➳ Word Count: 2k+

➳ Requests are open

A tired sign pushed throw your lips as you settled the last box, it was certainly being a hassle to make the sift from your old place, but it was stupidly worth it, it was closer to everything, price of the things was better anyway too, closer to your work, and just overall the whole package deal, amazing space, amazing view, a freaking reasonable price that you actually leave you enough money to not need to live off microwave food-

“(Y/N), do you have the box with the pans?”

Oh, and of course, the whole reason why you even considered doing anything in your life, Deku to the world, but for you he would always be Izuku Midoriya, your boyfriend, you could still remember it all as if it were yesterday, precious memories from when you were just starting at UA, as well as him.

Truth to be told, you didn’t quite expect much when you were in the support course, your plan was to make in the world as a pillar for the heroes, with your inventions as to enhance their powers, their abilities, people never use to talk much of them because of the lack of the glamour, but the one time you saw people actively “milking the sweat” out of a hero in training to make a costume that would allow him to use his quirk more efficiently … you knew that people were missing out on tons of good stories.

Meeting Izuku happened on an accident, actually, you weren’t the student assigned to him, UA wasn’t crazy (ok maybe they were a tad crazy looking back) to let only a first year to take care of other first years, most of the hard job would rely on the third years the most since they were going to go to the real working world real soon, but wouldn’t you know that your friendship with the overly energetic Hatsume would let you met the love of your life uh?

It would be like the scene right from a cheap shonen manga when you opened the door and found the girl literally pining the poor green haired boy down forcing him to test some of her inventions, you were so shocked you almost stepped back and decided to ignore that, almost. If it weren’t for a string of fast spoken words as soon as Hatsume was off the boy, babbles that you still couldn’t make sense for the life of you, you were never going to be here now, happy now.

“Yes Zuku, it was the last box!” you shouted back, walking pass the living room to the kitchen.

The pink haired girl laughed it off, as usual, ignoring the fact that she was forcing the boy to something he did not, chuckling it up to “it’s just her way to do things” there was no ill intent, you knew, but still had to have yet another pep talk about people’s personal spaces.

He introduced himself to you rather clumsy, with an unnecessary over the top bow considering that you both were the same age, that was the first time he had made you smile, giggling a little, you did the same.

“I thought we were going to order take out for today, you know, since we worked so god damn hard moving all the things from our old places” you said lazily resting your upper body over in the kitchen counter, eyes darting over your boyfriend while he was placing the new set of plates on the table, his curly hair was even more of a mess, but he didn’t seem tired at all, you even dared to say he was excited.

“I know, I know” he gave a soft laugh, looking at you oh so softly, with a hand over the base of his neck, he used to do this when he was slightly nervous you noticed, he was averting his eyes a bit, still, after all these years, he would still act nervous around you in times like this, you gave a half smile. “I just … though that it would be nice for us to make something together, I mean I understand if you are too tired to want to make something from scratch, you had a full day of work with the new flow of sidekicks in the agency and then still have to finish moving here with me but this is our first time l-living together… and I mean, I just wanted to…. I wanted to” oh god you couldn’t believe he could get even redder, Izuku was great with words when he wanted to be, but new experiences, especially in the relationship usually left him a little overwhelmed.

It could be coincidence or fate, but ever since your first time meeting the hero, he was always there when you had to talk to Mei, or randomly he would find you in the lab testing something out, he’d even volunteer to try some of your newest creations, it wasn’t until you were late to your usual time on the lab that you found him searching for your presence on the empty lab that you knew he was actively trying to spend time with you.

You also found out that a new shade of red existed when you caught him in the act while he mumbled excuses.

It was in the end of second year that he confessed to you, you guys were outside of UA for once, and by some miracle nobody tried to actively murder his class (another whole set of stories, many of them ending up with him crying while you placed gentle touches on his back), it was the middle of summer, the start of the night was hot as hell, you all just had said your goodbyes to your friends, Izuku would always offer to walk you home, even if his house was in the other direction of yours. You were happily playing with one cheap rubber water ball you brough in the small open fair that you guys spend the day looking at stuff while talking to him about some heroes status, you were in the middle of a pretty furious fit of giggles with the uniform of some of the pro heroes when Izuku stopped walking for a moment, you stopped moments later when you realized he wasn’t moving.

He was looking at you tenderly for a second before his face turned into determination and them a sudden realization that made him blush hard, but still stood his ground, not daring for a second to look away from you. You never felt more conscious of everything, in yourself, in him, the breathing, the rest was the rest and you were only focused on him and vice versa.

Taking a deep breath, he took his shot, the words coming out directly, louder than he intended, but ever so clear.

“(Y/N), I am in love with you!”

Then it was quiet. He wouldn’t dare to open his eyes, as if he was afraid of the reaction, of what he had just done. But it wasn’t needed when he could feel you throwing yourself at him in a hug, and the words he needed to hear so much after hearing the ones you wanted the most, so delicately in a whisper, almost as if it was a prayer.

“I love you too, Izuku”

You stepped closer to him, his voice was extremely low, and quiet, if any nose were to be there you would miss it. You placed your hands in each side of his cheeks, he was taller than you now, and gave him a reassuring smile, Izuku still would not dare to make eye contact.

“Want to…?” you tried to keep with the same low tone he was, as if you talked louder you could startle him, the smile never leaving your lips.

“…To make memories with you” Green orbs were now your focus, big doe eyes that would get you every time you looked at them with that sparkle that was always there when he talked to you, you felt your right hand being enveloped by a much larger, rougher one, slightly sliding over his lips, where he placed a delicate kiss over your palm. “I guess I just want us to have a great start together here” he let go of you hand while leaning towards the other that was still on his cheek, finally admitted to his small domestic desire.

“Then get me the ingredients, mister” you responded in a heartbeat, slightly booping his nose then placing both of your hands on your hips with more enthusiasm than you actually had “because we are making curry then”

“Don’t force yourself for me, (Y/N)” He said, softly, even if he could not hide his contentment.

“Izu, you’re always doing things for me, this is the least I could do, believe me, this is a two-way street after all” you added with a slightly smug face while already getting the carrots ready to be sliced.

Seemly satisfied with your answer, your boyfriend turned over to make his part of the meal, while you were humming a song.

Sometimes, being on support was brutal, people would complain to you about things that were not even your work but since it didn’t worked well with the other amalgamation of equipment’s they have, suddenly it was all your fault over and over again, turns out that Karens could actually be heroes and this information would have been so much nicer if people could have focused that while you were studying but oh well.

You flopped in your boyfriend’s place again, too tired to actually wait more time to take the train to go to your house, you needed a break.

Your lovely boyfriend chuckled a little once you walked upon the doors looking like a zombie and flopping onto the couch without any grace.

“Don’t laugh at my suffering Zuzu” you whined, not taking your face off the soft pillow.

“Sorry honey” you could feel him sitting next to you, his fingers running through your hair, you almost melted in fabric. “Hard day?”

“Something like that” You were non nonchalant, looking up a little to see him, he could and would lift your humor without even noticing, you missed seem him everyday like this. “Thank for letting me here again Zuzu, I just am very tired and plus having to travel half of the city just so I can sleep doesn’t seem much worth it hehe”

“I see… but” He cleared this throat, in a half cough, you tilted your head slightly, his cheeks were flushed, but his hand was still over your head “I… I mean… you could always live here”

“Really?” That aught your attention, you guys were together for quite a while now but you didn’t want to rush him in any way.

“It … It would make sense and you would be more rested too, besides here is a great place, I have more than enough space as it is, the seller of the place himself actually was telling me on and on that his place was too big for only one person, but I would assure him that I wouldn’t be here alone for long and…” He would have continued to ramble if he didn’t register that he spilled his plan to you, keeping himself quiet.

“Of course I will move in with you Izuku!” there was never a doubt of it.

Two strong arms were slowly placed around your waist, with a small nuzzle on the back right were your head met your neck, his breathing sending shivers down your spine.

“What are you smiling about?” You could feel his own smile against your skin, making the smile you weren’t aware you had even wider.

“That I love you so much” your arms were over his, placing your fingers over each on of his “so much”

You couldn’t see, but as the hug got a little bit tighter, his lips tracing over your neck, you could tell, or at least hope he had the same blush on his face that you were having right now.

“I love you too, (Y/N)”

#midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #writing prompt #deku x reader #reader insert #izuku midoria x reader #izuku midoriya #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #this was suppoused to be a drabble #I love izuku so much #iagjdfgajrl #fiction writes

[parkersjiggle]

I have a starker prompt! Person A is in love with Person B. Person A thinks it's hopeless cause they're just friends. Person A doesn't realize that Person B returns his feelings. People around them refer to Person B as his boyfriend and he thinks they're just teasing him until one day he realizes that everyone thinks they're actually in a relationship. Including Person B. This whole time Person B just thought they were taking things slow. Up to you which is Peter and which is Tony.

Hi! Thanks for the prompt! It’s my first time ever writing/posting my work so I hope I didn’t disappoint, also English isn’t my first language but that shouldn’t be a problem.

“Hey Tony!” Peter practically yelled, tossing his backpack in the air and shooting a web to pin it against the wall. Tony always pretended to be annoyed at this even though he secretly found it pretty funny.

“Sweetheart, you know you can just place your backpack on the couch? You‘re capable of that right?” He replied amused and winked at the young man.

Peter instantly went red “y-yeah um I, I- know it’s just more fun this way” he flinched at his own awkwardness and resisted the urge to hide his face. That’s been happening a lot recently. He didn’t quite understand where all the pet names were coming from all of a sudden but damn he wasn’t complaining. Peter risked a glance at the man, standing and petting Dum-E’s head, and smiled, quickly looking back down to hide his scarlet cheeks.

It was truly unfair though. Tony was in a white tank top, the fabric clinging to his muscles in all the right places and his hair was a little tousled and sweaty. “How can a person be this freaking hot?” he thought. But that wasn’t the only thing that attracted him to Tony, oh no, it was also his sense of humor, his intelligence, his kindness, his generosity, his ambitions, his sarcasm, his strength, the way he carried himself, the soft and real smiles he only showed to a select amount of people... yeah he was in deep. Maybe if it was only Tony’s looks that made Peter’s knees a useless sack of jello, he could’ve gotten over him a long time ago. At the end of the day there were a lot of attractive people, but that doesn’t mean you have to be in love with them right? But no, he just had to be in love with a man he could never have. Hopeless. That’s what it was. For now though he decidedly catalogues that pet name in his mind so he can unravel it over and over again when he’s laying in bed later.

Peter blinked and shook himself from his stupor “uh anyways, what’ve you got for me to work on today, Tony?”. Calling Mr Stark by his first name was another thing he’s been getting used to, but the man sat him down a few weeks ago and insisted that now he really couldn’t have it if Peter still called him Mr. Stark and to please please please with a cherry on top call him Tony. To be fair everything from that conversation was a little fuzzy to him since he got stabbed on patrol that day and Tony had cried and yelled and hugged and softened all at once. He couldn’t quite grasp why suddenly it was so important to call him Tony now since it kind of became an inside joke between them, but I guess logically at some point it had to come to an end and how could Peter refuse anyway? He liked the familiarity that came with it. It made him feel more like an equal.

“Uh actually, Pete, I thought we could head upstairs and watch a movie together? You know, leave the lab for once. I’ve got popcorn and I’m pretty sure Nat and Cap will want to join us too.” Peter frowned and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Tony wanted to watch a movie with him? He actually suggested to leave the lab in order to do something mundane and domestic? What was going on... Tony mistook Peter’s silence and confusion for hesitation and quickly added “I mean we don’t have to. We can just work on your web-“

“No! No, I mean I would love to. I’d like that actually.” Oh God he sounded way too eager. “Might be a nice change of scenery” he concluded, trying to be a little more casual about it.

Tony‘s lips twitched reassuringly at the other brunette “Let’s go then, darling.” a warm feeling spread all over him and it tenfolded when Tony actually grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together to guide him up the stairs.

“Go sit, I’ll pop the corn. Save me a seat next to you, kay?” Tony asked as he walked off towards the kitchen, not really expecting an answer. Peter mumbled a “yeah” under his breath anyway. He stood there for a good minute just smiling to himself.

“Hey spiderbaby, come sit” Nat had a knowing smirk on her face as she lifted her legs off the couch so she could sit more upright and make room for the two. Peter tried to scold his features into a look of indifference even if he realized it was probably useless already. What was the point in faking it in front of a super spy who could probably see through Peter as if he’s actually transparent.

When they both settled on the couch Natasha’s eyes snapped up from the tv and she frowned slightly as she tilted her head at Peter “So, how’s the boyfriend doing? He treating you good or do I have to go all assassin on him?”

Peter felt his cheeks warm up and shifted a bit as he let out a dramatic sigh “I really wish you would stop teasing me with that, you know? I just.. He doesn’t even li- Oh God he’s coming over. Ssht!” he lost his train of thought and pretended to be very invested in whatever was going on with his sleeves. Natasha looked a little puzzled at his reaction but decided not to say anything.

“Guess what? Popcorn AND pizza. How awesome am I?“ Peter finally lifted his gaze and stared at him with what could only be described as exasperated fondness. “You’re okay I guess”

“Hey now” Tony wagged a finger in Peter’s direction as he flopped down closely next to Peter “I’m feeding you, the least you could do is feed my ego in return” Tony joked, giving Peter a halfhearted glare that Peter rolled his eyes at as he grabbed a handful of popcorn.

Peter hurriedly swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and somehow mustered the courage to look into Tony’s whiskey colored eyes. “Okay then. You’re pretty great- no, scratch that, you’re really great. You’re the best actually. And I just-“

“PLEASE, I beg of you, stop the flirting already. I’m trying to enjoy my movie and this is more painful than any torture technique I’ve ever experimented with.” Natasha interrupted Peter’s rambling.

Peter’s first instinct was to deflect and deny. He wanted to say that he was simply complementing, stating the truth even, but definitely not flirting. Any protesting however was quickly forgotten when Tony pulled Peter’s blanketed form across his lap, smushing Peter’s cheek against Tony’s thigh as he gently ran his fingers through Peter’s messy chocolate locks. “Oh Nat, don’t be jealous. I’m sure you’ll find someone someday” he didn’t face Nat though, simply grinning down at the younger man in his lap.

Peter couldn’t believe his ears and it only got more confusing and complicated when Nat spoke next “No, in all seriousness, I’m really happy for you two. You’re great together and you’re changing each other for the better. I mean Peter, you’re more giggly and joyeus than ever and Tony you’re actually taking breaks more often, eating when you’re supposed to... it’s good that you’re dating”

“You’re right”

“WHAT?”

They spoke at the same time and suddenly Tony’s eyebrows furrowed as Peter pulled his head out of Tony’s lap. “What’s wrong?” He questioned with a hint of concern in his voice.

“What do you mean “what’s wrong”? You’re not weirded out or anything?” Peter’s eyes were comically large.

“Why would I be weirded out? Wait- don’t you think we’re... you don’t think we’re good together? Do you want to break up with me or something?” Tony’s eyes were a little glossy and he started fidgeting with a pillow next to him.

Natasha took that as her cue to leave, silently as ever, not that Peter would’ve noticed anything either way. “Break up? What? I- how- I mean? We’re... we’re dating?”

“Are you kidding me? I call you sweetheart and darling all the time. I look at you like you’re my entire world, which you are by the way, and I- I mean I thought we were just taking it slow, but you... you really didn’t know? What did you think we were doing?” He sounded a lot lighter and he could even start to see the hilarity of the situation. “We had a whole ass conversation about this. I said I couldn’t waste any more time pining over you and not being with you, since in our line of work every day could be our last. Were you not there or something? Cause I’m pretty sure I wasn’t talking to myself though but then again-“

“You mean when I GOT STABBED? I think there was a lot of blood loss going on at that moment!” Tony winced at the reminder. “Fuck... just shut up and kiss me already, you idiot”.

And Tony did.

#starker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #stabbing #didn’t know they were dating #starkerprompt #ironspider #fluff #angst #Peter Parker needs a hug #Tony Stark needs a hug #hurt/comfort #Peter is like 20 in this idk #tooth-rotting fluff #peter parker/tony stark

[sleeplessincairo]

[ dating bucky barnes would include: ]

warnings: a somewhat vague sexual outline and a few cusses

///

Him walking around with a notebook everywhere. Bucky got the idea from Steve when he saw him writing new things to his modern day to-do-list, so Bucky decided to do the same except fill his notebook up with his old memories instead; anything he could remember from his life before being The Winter Soldier. At first, there were only a few pages filled but as his life starting to include domestic and mundane-as well as a healthy environment-activities, he started having spontaneous and soon-to-be-frequent flashbacks that, later on, contributed to dozens of notebooks filled with not The Winter Soldier, not Prisoner #56898, not White-Wolf, but James Buchanan Barnes.

You never mentioned the notebook to Bucky nor asked to read it-Bucky was a private person, and you understood and respected that-but you still started carrying a pen with you, just in case he ever needed one.

At first, the notebook(s) was/were filled with solely memories of his past-No matter how insignificant. Whether it was that time the toilet got clogged in his shabby little apartment and had to stay with Steve and Sarah Rogers for a week because he couldn't afford a plumber or that time he lost his shoe in bar brawl and some swanky chrome-dome gave him a few bucks to buy some shoes and a sock without a hole in it. He wrote everything his mind could clearly grasp. But as the two of you got closer, he started filling it with memories he had with/of you because-even if he would never admit it-you made him feel right at home.

You may or may not have stolen his dog tags from the Smithsonian museum just as a reminder that even after all the pain, despair, manipulation, and torture he still managed to be the good person he was all those years ago. He was still James Barnes, local heartthrob that volunteered at the soup kitchen during his free time, that fought a war and lost an arm during the process, that dreamt of flying cars and a future without all fights and wars, that had a soft spot for a certain trouble-attracting boy whose heart was too big for his body.

“Jesus doll, I didn’t know I was dating a thief.” “Oh James, I thought you’d already realized that when I stole your heart from right under your nose.”

Bucky’s not big on talking or directly verbally professing his love, but that’s okay; His eyes tell you everything. There was always something about Bucky’s eyes that were so mesmerizing, so captivating, you could instantly tell how he was feeling. Before you, his eyes resembled a pale arctic blue that were as cold as glaciers-His eyes were hollowed and empty, scratched raw from any emotion but your growing presence thawed them out, they warmed through the cold exterior of what was once The Winter Soldier and reminded you that the hottest fires burn blue.

He does, however, reference quite a few interesting slang choices from the 40′s, which is his own little way of demonstrating verbal affection, ranging from calling you ‘Doll’ & ‘Sweetheart’ to calling you ‘The Cat’s Meow’ & ‘Butter and Egg Fly’

He’s never been very invested in hygiene. It never really was something important for him since he was in the Army and BO was a pretty normal thing, and then he became The Winter Soldier and HYDRA never exactly gave him a bathtub-Not that he was in the right mindset to to care about it anyway-So you usually have to remind him to shower everyday-Not that you mind, it would usually end with the both of you showering together and you having the opportunity to wash his hair yourself.

Soon enough, Bucky gets real invested in hygiene, he starts reading about self-care routines, exfoliating, conditioning, and gets completely hooked. Secretly, he does it because he likes the routine, something mundane and fixed to do to keep him busy.

You’re the only one that gets to call him James. Something about the way you say it warms his heart, he’d focus completely on the way your mouth moves as you say it-It reminded him of the way his mother would say his full name before busting his chops about coming home all dirty but then later ruffling his thick hair and offering a plate of strawberry jam sandwhiches, or how the word was always lurking in the dark corners of his mind like the silhouette of a ghost he couldn’t seem to recognize until you brought it to life.

Him always reaching out for your hand when he feels out-of-place, outside, or honestly just all the time because it helps him feel secure and grounded.

Steve third wheeling the both of you all the time. No seriously, literally all the time. He spends more time in the apartment you and Bucky share more than his own to the point where you and Bucky wonder if he actually has one. 

Steve has a key to your place-Even though, the both of you never gave him a key in the first place-and has a habit of interrupting the both of you or walking in on the worst possible moments.

“Hey guys, what are ya doi-Oh...Sorry I didn't know-Buck, you don't need to throw-Jesus, okay, okay I’m going.”

“Who the hell does it look like I’m doing, Steve.”

Bucky being very insecure about his arm, he even refuses to touch you with that arm-Subconsciously, he’s afraid he’ll accidentally hurt you. At first, he only ever wears long-sleeved shirts and a glove even on the hottest days as if he’d somehow forget that there was a metallic limb under all the cotton, but slowly like molasses he starts accepting it. He starts wearing open finger gloves, then discarding the gloves, then wearing 3-quarter sleeves, then short-sleeved shirts, then sleeveless shirts, then finally feeling comfortable enough to take off his shirt in front of you which leads to a night filled with discarded clothing, the sounds of soft murmurs and reassurances, the rolling of each other’s names off each other tongues like a prayer, and the rustling of the blanket against the delicate movement of your intertwined bodies skin-on-skin, skin-on-metal as the both of you unravel thread by thread in each other’s arms.

Truth is, you love his metal arm, you love the way it’s cool against your warm cheek on hot summer nights, you love the splashes of light that kiss it every morning making it sparkle, you love the soft and soothing whirring noises it lets out breaking the silence in your room, you love it because it’s a part of him and God knows how much you love everything about this man.

Despite being the assassin that killed JFK, managed to get away with it, and mind boggle conspiracists for decades he’s a bit clumsy. He has a habit of accidentally breaking things and later on, not telling you about it.

"James Buchanan Barnes, I thought I developed super strength-and even asked Stark to do some tests on me, but apparently you just happened to forget to mention and explain why the fuck doors are falling off their hinges!"

Losing sleep with Bucky. He tends to have very frequent and graphic nightmares which leads to various panic attacks and the inability to sleep, and you're more than happy to stay up with him and comfort him. Sometimes you’d talk while he listened and watched the way your lips moved or the way the pony tail you had gone to bed with loosened and hundreds of strands escaped the grasp of the hair band or the way a yawn would escape your lips and your hand would momentarily rise to cover your mouth but get lazy halfway, other times you’d lay in each other’s arms in complete silence while you traced patterns on his chest and trail kisses across his skin.

You being his anchor. You holding him tightly and assuring him that he’s okay, that you're here, that you're real, that he’s out, that he’s safe, and many other tender 3-worded sentences uttered over and over again like a mantra until he’s murmuring them back into your chest. 

Sometimes, when he has really bad nightmares and panic attacks you grab his notebook and start reading the memories out loud while you lay his head on your lap and run your hand through his hair in a calming manner until he calms down. It soon becomes a regular thing where you read him a memory before he goes to bed like a bedtime story.

Bucky Barnes is a man who was tortured and tormented for years, a man whose life was ripped right from his very arms along with his very own arm, a man who has gone through a long and unforgettable journey where he has learned to cope, grow, accept, and embrace himself and now he’s made it his mission to encourage and help others to do the same, whether they're struggling with their sexuality, amputation, mental illness, gender, or general self-acceptance.

You educated him about women’s rights because things are a lot different then in the 1940s; women are no longer obligated to get married, cater to a man’s every whim, have children, and other traditional gender roles. At first, Bucky’s very confused and doesn't understand why feminism is so important-I mean, lets face it, Bucky was raised in a traditional society and was later on manipulated to being a bloodthirsty assassin and now suddenly, he can think on his own and his life has turned completely upside down from thinking his own thoughts without HYDRA around to thinking past social constructs and norms so its normal for him to be a bit weary. However, you're there to explain thoroughly about how unjust society still is and how women may have won a few battles but still have a war to fight in a society where they are hyper-sexualized, mistreated, and controlled, and Bucky immediately thinks of Peggy Carter and how the men used to catcall her, how they raked her body with inappropriate stares, how she was ignored and seen as a pretty face, and then he finally understands. 

Dozens of articles about mysterious beatings of assaulters around New York.

His metal arm is decorated with dozens of pins, magnets, and stickers of all the movements he supports. Oh man, you should see him during Women’s marches and Pride fairs, considering all the black he usually wears seeing him dressed in bright colors or a pink shirt that says ‘On Wednesdays, we destroy the patriarchy’. It’s a sight that truly belongs in the history books.

Bucky breaking hold of the toxic masculinity he was subjected to in the 1940s and advocating for men to be able to display their God-given emotions freely, to not feel obligated to put on a tough guy front, to telling boys its okay to cry, to feel, to act, to wear, and to be whomever they please to be. 

Bucky visiting youth centers and giving advice and support to the kids there. Every kid he meets reminds him of Steve, whether its in their stubbornness, taste for trouble, lostness, or the glimmer of potential he sees in every single one of them. He remembers every single name of the teenager he meets and later on, uses them as a mantra whenever he’s undergoing a panic or anxiety attack as well as use SHIELD’s equipment to check up on them every once in a while.

Bucky going to children’s hospitals every week to cheer up the little kids there. He ends up being quite the inspiration and their ‘Favorite Superhero’ for the kids with amputations there and they end up being one of the very few people who are allowed to touch his metal arm. Something about the way their eyes shine with hope and their hands melt at the feeling of the metal warms his heart and his insecurities.

#marvel #mcu #tony stark #bucky barnes #captain america #chris evans #marvel imagines #steve rogers x reader #avenger masterlist #incorrect marvel quotes #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #the avengers x reader #senastian stan #the avengers imagines #marvel comics #steve rogers #iron man #peter parker #the avengers #spiderman #sam wilson #falcon #black widow #natasha romanoff #black panther #hulk #hawkeye #loki

[starkerintheparker]

starker reclist - canon based fics

Hi Starker fam! To celebrate my 900 followers I decided to finally start posting my humble and very personal reclist. I’ve been planning to do it for a while now but it got way bigger than I anticipated so I decided to split it in 4 parts and will share the first one today. I’ve been around for less than a year and there’s a lot I haven’t read yet so my plan is to update this list as I go. 

Under the cut is part I, solely is dedicated to canon-based fics. I’m a sucker for angst so most of my recs feature guilty!Tony, miscommunication, porn with feels and all that jazz. Hopefully you’ll be able to find something interesting according to your preferences. Oh and don’t forget to leave kudos, comments and spread the love for these authors :) Cheers!

Last updated: 2020/04/18. All new fics added will be marked with ***

• 10 Ways to Woo Your Boo by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 6k, completed)

Summary: By twenty-one Peter Parker had graduated college, scored himself a post-grad job and was a full-fledged member of the Avengers. He had his own apartment, paid his own bills and juggled his time between being a superhero and working enough to cover his rent. So long as Peter was armed with his ID, he was a full-fledged adult in the eyes of the law. Perhaps foolishly, he’d assumed it would make him an adult in the eyes of everybody else too. Keen to be seen as worthy of Tony's heart, Peter enlists the help of his friends and the internet in courting his former mentor.

Review: We all love Ash’s fantastic AUs but this lovely canon-based fic may be one of my favorite works by her. I will never know how she manages the fine balance between angst, humor and romance, I just know it hits me good and takes my breath away. Oblivious!Tony and Peter being a bisexual disaster at wooing, what do you mean this wasn’t in the movies? Sounds canon to me.

• 100-Point Restoration by Destina (T, 8k, completed)

Summary: Tony needs a happiness upgrade; Peter wants Tony. These goals might be compatible. (This story is set roughly five years post-Homecoming).

Review: I just realized this was the first Starker fic I’ve read, and it was back in 2017! I didn’t ship Starker at the time but this author must have done something right because for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes away. This fic is gorgeous. Tony’s voice is amazing, his dynamics with Peter are spot-on and organic - but nothing’s better than watching their feelings unfold, like a soft and warm humming just awaiting for disclosure.

• adult supervision by doveslayer (M, 20k, on hiatus)

Summary: Peter Parker should not keep drunk-dialing Tony Stark after midnight. But more pressingly, Tony Stark should not keep answering. In which Tony tries to convince himself he's doing nothing wrong. warning: underage!Peter tho pretty vanilla imo                                                                                        

Review: My favorite “everything is happening while nothing is happening” fic. Their voices are spot on, the dialogues are clever, and you can almost touch the tension with your fingertips. It’s been a year since the last update but even if this fic never gets finished I promise the read will have been worthy!

• Attached by @paspleurer (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: Tony gets it, he really does. As far as rebounds go, sleeping with your childhood hero isn't half bad. And if what Peter wants is this— just sex, with no strings attached— then Tony will give him this.

Review: Pleurer and Learned Foot have seduced me with the rebound trope. This is a lovely Tony POV with the good old pining + miscommunication combo, plus enthusiastic sex and sweet domesticity. What else could I ask for?

• Covet by RTC anonymous (E, 34k, completed)

Summary: Peter has a new boyfriend. Tony starts drinking again, for unrelated reasons.

Review: I read this fic when I was still warily lurking around the Starker fandom and it blew me away. The sexual tension is so palpable you can almost taste it. There is jealous, guity Tony failing at mentoring and a vulnerable, smitten Peter Parker trying to make sense out of it. RTC anon is a religion.

• Ephemeron by @ramblings-from-elsinore (E)

Summary: "Being around Ned, Peter's reminded how out of place he is. For Ned, the second ever appearance of aliens over Manhattan is the stuff of excited hallway chatter, of where were you when—? Ned’s world wasn’t blown apart and stitched back together. Because Ned doesn’t remember. No one does, except the ones who were there, who fought." AKA, "Tony's relationship with Peter may be unconventional, but they’re unconventional people who have had some pretty fucking unconventional experiences." In which Tony can't stop touching Peter to make sure he's real, and Peter dreams of being in Tony's arms and not disappearing.

Review: I started reading this fic before I joined the fandom and man, what a way to get pulled into this ship. Brace yourself for hardcore guilty!Tony being all over the place plus unhealthy codependency and touch deprivation, all the good things. Reading this is a spiritual experience but fair warning: this is not a happy story, at least not for a long while, so please mind the tags.

• Expiration Date by @learned-foot​ (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony knows exactly what this is. First big breakup, go for a fling with a completely inappropriate person. It’s basically a cliché. He kind of thought Peter was better than that, but apparently being brilliant and one of the bravest people on the face of the planet doesn’t mean he’s immune from being a stupid college student who makes stupid college student mistakes. AKA Tony is sure this is just a fling, and he deals with that about as well as you’d expect.

Review: Ahh my beloved rebound trope and my first rec (out of many) by LF! Between a pining, insecure Tony making all the wrong decisions and a young and confident Peter unwilling to let him go, this fic makes your heart ache in the best ways. Good thing LF only works with happy endings!

• From Thy Bounty by @ibby-writes​ and feyrelay (E, 31k, completed)

Summary: Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Review: I’ve lost count of how many times I reread this insanely hot and ridiculously well written fic. Besides the A+++ characterization, there is delicious food porn foreplay followed by a breathtaking cat and mouse game that culminates with no less than 13.5k of intense and unapologetic sex with feels, my favorite kind. Enjoy the meal! ;D

***Gift of Choice by tuesday (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony Stark had a thing about giving Peter stuff.

Review: This is my favorite fic by tuesday and the PERFECT rendition of our beloved sugar daddy trope. Great pacing, amazing dialogues and a breathtaking build up that makes you both smile and sweat in anticipation. They’re so in love I almost can’t handle when they finally get together. Sexy, hot and very sweet.  

• here is my hand, my heart by belatrix (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: Mostly, Tony had tried not to look. He still does. Try, that is. It’s just― it’s getting a little bit harder every day.

Review: I have a HUGE soft spot for this beautiful masterpiece, because it was the fic that finally made me join the Starker fandom. I’ve reread it so many times and it never fails to amaze me. Through an atmospheric non-linear narrative, this shows a guilt-ridden Tony Stark trying and failing to resist one determined Peter Parker who won’t take bullshit for an answer. Hot, and angsty, and breathtaking.

• I know that you got Daddy Issues (And I do too) by feyrelay (E)

Summary: The one where Peter’s blue balls save the world. Because, yeah? That meandering, blooming thing between him and Mr. Stark? That relationship that continues to be maddeningly legal, platonic, and above-board, but still somehow haunts Peter’s wildest wet-dreams? That might just be the key to Strange’s endgame.

Review: This fic is a love letter to those who appreciate an angsty and nuanced slow burn like me. Possibly the best character study I’ve ever read combined with a clever, well researched and intricated plot. Reading this will make you fall even more in love with Tony and Peter as individuals, before wanting them to be better together. Make sure to also check all related fics under the tag DIEU (Daddy Issues Extended Universe) - the Starker verse we fucking deserve.

• if I am the river, you are the ocean by sadonsundays (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: The one where Tony can't sleep and Peter can't stop his hands from shaking.

Review: This is a gorgeous recovery fic, painful and heartbreaking, yes, but still very gentle as Tony and Peter’s relationship quietly unfolds. Pepper is an absolute treat which was refreshing to me. I just love the quiet and angsty undertone that guides their journey until they finally find home in each other.

if you’d grant my love a pardon by belatrix (M, 2.5k, completed)

Summary: The first time, it goes something like this: “No,” Tony says, but it’s tired, half-hearted, not quite a denial.

Review: One of the reasons why I love this ship is that there’s always room for angst, even when they’re already together. This lovely yet heartbreaking fic mirrors Tony’s fragile heart as he realizes that as much as he should, he just can’t let go of Peter, not quite yet. Belatrix writes guilty!Tony’s headspace like nobody else and I just can’t recommend her writing enough.

• in the light of a dying star by @areiton​ (M, 6k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Extremis isn't a guarantee. That's what Pepper told him, as they took him off the bloody, dusty field. It was just a chance. A desperate gamble.

Review: I’m so glad I read this right after Endgame because this is the fix-it Tony and we all deserved, this fic is so comforting and beautiful. I really love the quiet, ethereal atmosphere and how it shapes our perception of time and character development. Peter is beautifully written and their get together made my heart ache in peace.

• In the Morning by @cagestark​ (M, 6k, completed)

Summary: Peter's pretty stressed. He isn't understanding physics despite all the extra time he is spending with Bruce. And underneath it all, something is wrong with Mr. Stark.

Review: Heart wrenching and painfully honest fic, where Tony is a jealous mess and Peter is his usual earnest, sweet and good self. They meet in the middle, and it’s quiet, beautiful and sad.  

• Kiss Me by @ironspi​

Summary: Five times Peter and Tony almost kiss and one time they did.

Review: This fic was such a lovely surprise! It begins unpretentious and it builds up to quality pining and unresolved sexual tension. Chapter 4 is particularly awesome, so charged and intimate. Kudos to the author for exploring Peter taking the lead and making Tony melt in his arms.

• Landslide by spqr (M, 8k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Peter jumps into the quantum realm with his heart in his throat. He steps out in 2018, on the edge of a lake he still has nightmares about. A hundred yards away over the water, the lights in the lakehouse are on.

Review: Morally ambiguous characters + angsty time travel? Count me in. This fic has a very interesting (and darker) take on Peter post-Thanos, in his raw and desperate grief over Tony. Bonus points for amazing dialogues and a fix-it plot so clever and believable I’m surprised I didn’t see it on screen.  

• lean on me now by @areiton​ (G, 9k, on hiatus)

Summary: He’s so tired, and he hurts, the kind of screaming pain he’s struggling to ignore now, and he wants to go home. But he can do this. He can sit and watch, and keep them safe. A wry smile tugs at his lips because he knows how ridiculous that sounds--a kid keeping Avengers safe.

Review: One of the best canon divergence fics I’ve ever read. It’s quiet, angsty and Peter’s voice is simply amazing. My heart breaks for Tony, but I’m so here for Peter & Rhodey’s brOTP, the fandom deserves more of it.

• noticing by @areiton​ (NR, 2k, completed)

Summary: “You deserve to be happy,” Rhodey tells Tony once, when Tony is drinking and conflicted and Peter is sleeping unaware on the couch. Tony watches him, eyes bright.

Review: How could I ever resist seeing Tony and Peter’s relationship development through Rhodey’s protective and thoughtful gaze? Any Tony stan should read this fic because this is the kind of love, friendship and support he deserves. Reading this put my mind at rest, knowing Tony’s cared for, and safe.

• Obvious by @learned-foot​ (M, 14k, completed)

Summary: When Peter wakes up, several things become very clear all at once: he’s underground somewhere unpleasant, something is messing with his powers, and his entire body hurts. A lot.

Review: WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP *victory dance* god this one is brutal, but we can trust LF to bring on full angst with an intriguing plot and A+++ characterization. I’m so here for protective!Tony doing whatever it takes to keep Peter safe, including all the confusion and heartbreak his problematic decisions may bring.

• Permission by @cagestark​ (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: During drinks with the Avengers, Peter admits that he enjoys orgasms more when someone is giving him permission, though since he's single, there isn't anyone in his life to offer it. Generous Tony offers to offer it.

Review: This fic is unique and so very hot, but don’t let the smutty summary fool you. There is also tenderness and FEELS in capital letters. Despite their arrangement, pining!Tony is so vulnerable and so completely in love with Peter it kinda breaks my heart a little, but thankfully Cage is a big fan of happy endings like me, so we’re all safe in her hands.

***Post-Endgame NYE by @darker-soft-starker (M, completed)

Summary:  Five years after the events of endgame Tony is resurrected. Months after that, he's still trying to find equilibrium

Review: Hands down the loveliest ‘flirting on a bench’ I’ve ever seen, and my top favorite NYE Starker fic. I love to see Tony facing an existential crisis while he navigates his new life post-resurrection, including the violent realization of ‘oh no, Peter’s an attractive adult now’. Gentle and gorgeous get together, kudos at Morgan for being a little devil and playing matchmaking.

• Proxy by @cagestark​ (E, 11k, completed)

Summary: Peter wants to know if Mr. Stark knows, like, anybody who’d be willing to make out with him. Things escalate from there.

Review: I have such a big soft spot for this fic because “by proxy” is one of my favorite tropes and Cage explored it masterfully. Again, this is pining!Tony at his best and Cage just has this ability to transform what once started as a sexy little thing into this soft and gentle love story, the kind that gives you butterflies in the stomach.

• Radar by @intoxicatelou​ (M)

Summary: Peter could say that he’s officially approached desperation, but he wants this, wants Tony, and he’s willing to do everything it takes. Or the one in which Peter tries to become Tony's celebrity crush from 2009 in order to seduce him.

Review: This is one of my favorites self-indulgent fics, I just can’t resist the good old “Peter’s seduction handbook” trope and intoxicatelou delivers it beautifully. This story is sweet, super fun and relatable af. There’s A+ pining, Peter being a bisexual disaster and MJ being the queen we all stan, shocking absolutely no one.

• Revelations by RTC anonymous (E, 127k, completed)

Summary: “I still don’t get it,” Ned says. “How you just... keep being ordinary in spite of all the craziness you’ve lived through. You were in space. You helped Iron Man save the universe. And nobody knows it was you.” His tone softens, becomes almost sad. As though he realizes that what he’s saying is so completely alien to him that he will never be able to understand this part of Peter’s life. “Peter, don’t you want people to know you for who you are?” An AU where they get the Gauntlet off of Thanos that first time, on Titan.

Review: I feel like I don’t need to justify this choice – almost everyone in the fandom has either heard of or read this masterpiece, it’s safe to say this fic is part of the Starker Training Wheels Protocol lol. If you have just arrived or is just exploring the fandom and enjoys slow burns I suggest you start right hee because it doesn’t get any better than this. There’s A+++ characterization, breathtaking pining, insane sexual tension and a very satisfying ending if I may say so. Definitely among my top 3 Starker fics. RTC anon, wherever you are, please know you are loved and appreciated. I’ll literally build an altar for you.

• Reversal by @learned-foot​ (E, 4k, completed)

Summary: Sometimes, Tony is the one who needs to be praised.

Review: For once Peter makes Tony just lie down and take 😊 the fucking 😊 praise 😊. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this fic all my life. This is the praise kink Tony (and we all) deserve, genuine, gentle and powerful. If you’re a big sap for their love like I am, you’re in for an emotional ride because this is overwhelmingly sweet to the point it brings tears to your eyes. LF is such a gift to this fandom.  

• Settling by @cagestark​ (E, 5k, completed)

Summary: Peter really wants to be taller than Tony. Heels help.

Review: One of my favorites by Cage, I still remember how happy and giggly I felt when I first read it. There is A+++ characterization, amazing dialogue, Avengers domesticity, praise kink, the hottest blow job and my favorite Starker first kiss. Oh, did I mention Peter in heels and Tony loving every moment of it? You’re welcome :D

• Stipulations by RTC anonymous (E, 70k, completed)

Summary: Peter Parker’s long term dream recently went from ‘get into MIT’ to ‘afford going to MIT’. As the time approaches, it’s dawning on him that he won’t be able to pay his tuition and afford the move to Cambridge all at once: he’s out of money, his secrets are beginning to pile up, and desperation has started creeping in... And then one night, he saves Tony Stark’s life.

Review: Another fandom classic by our irreplaceable RTC anon, this fic is SO GOOD I keep coming back to it and just recently I realized I’ve built all my personal Starker headcanons out of it, lol. A+++ characterization and hot, delicious pining is a given with this author, but I’m really here for that senses-dialed-to-11 trope, and RTC delivers it masterfully.  

• subtle by @areiton​ (T, 1k, completed)

Summary: Peter is not subtle. He wears his emotion, his excitement, like a flag waved bright red and teasing for a bull—impossible to go unnoticed, impossible to ignore. It’s adorable and it’s Peter, and it’s—in hindsight—why Tony misses the context clues.

Review: This fic is like reading poetry, a balm to the heart. Peter wears Tony’s colors and by the time Tony finally gets the context clues they fall together in the gentlest, softest way.

• Take it slow by tuesday (E, 13k, completed)

Summary: There were a ton of reasons dating Peter was a bad idea. Tony loved bad ideas. He was going to do it anyway. In which Tony thinks they're dating, and then they're dating undercover.

Review: This fic is so endearing it’s basically impossible not to cheer for these two, despite their usual infuriating communication issues, lol. But I promise all the angst and wait are worth it, because there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing how they (finally!) get to be on the same page.

• the record spins on the trails we blaze by @darker-soft-starker​ (NR, 5k, completed)

Summary: Years after the events of Homecoming, Peter thought all of the bad memories were well and truly behind him. After all, so much has happened since then - and he's happy now. Everything is kinda perfect.Turns out nothing stays buried.

Review: Hell yes! I agree HoCo’s events were particularly traumatizing and this trope is not as explored as it should be. To put it simply, this fic is something I didn’t know that I needed and Ash delivered it beautifully. It’s incredibly gentle, cathartic and honest, not to mention the lovely domesticity and understanding between the characters that will make your heart swell.

• Under Someone Else by @learned-foot (M, 7k, completed)

Summary: Peter realizes he’s just a rebound. And he’s okay with that, really. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Review: FEELS, FEELS EVERYWHERE. It’s so hard to choose a favorite fic by LF but this is the first that comes to mind because it introduced me to the amazing rebound trope. It’s so refreshing to see this ship’s potential for angst and miscommunication playing into the “fuck first, talk later” scenario. Warning for vulnerable boys being idiots and breaking our hearts but P.P.P.S they do eventually get their shit together and it’s glorious!

• Up for Anything by tuesday (E, 8k, completed)

Summary: When it came to Tony Stark, Peter would take what he could get. In which Peter believes he's just a rebound. (Not Endgame compliant.)

Review: Of course there’s yet another gorgeous rebound rec because I can’t get enough of this trope. Honestly, LF and Tuesday writing for each other have provided some of the best fics this fandom has, God bless them. This is another treat featuring pining!Peter and the usual “I can’t communicate properly how much I fucking love you”, but there’s also bantering, delicious dirty talk and so much affection that you’ll read it all with the biggest smile on your face.

#starker #reclist #peter parker x tony stark

[bettydice]

I didn’t expect you to be lonely (too)

Xicheng, Modern AU, JC&WWX reconciliation, E-Rated 

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 7

The night after their date, which was both a disaster and the best date he’s ever had, Jiang Cheng can't sleep. He keeps thinking about Lan Xichen’s shaking hands, the kiss, the kisses that followed, about not casually, about Wei Wuxian dating Lan Xichen's brother. About how if they're not casual, then he'll have to get over himself and at least be able to be in a room together with Wei Wuxian, or Lan Xichen will just be another person suffering from this stupid situation.

If they're… If they are something now. If it lasts. He wants it to last. Which is another thing keeping him awake. How much he already feels for Lan Xichen. How his brain has no problem providing him with… Domestic scenarios. That eventually turn into not so domestic ones. But he’s too tired to do anything about his arousal, so his brain instead comes up with scenarios where Lan Xichen tells him he regrets everything about yesterday and does not want to see him again. Those are… not fun.

Eventually, morning comes. Jiang Cheng stays in bed. He has nothing to do today, he’s tired, and there’s nothing waiting for him in his kitchen except for dirty dishes. So, he grabs his phone and watches some cute bunny compilations on YouTube. After the fifth video he does feel better, so when Wei Wuxian’s daily selfie arrives (Wei Wuxian holds up a very large mug of coffee, winking at the camera), Jiang Cheng doesn’t even get angry or sad. He actually has to smile.

He immediately gets up, gets dressed, doesn’t open the door to his kitchen, and takes the bus to his sister’s house.

Jiang Yanli doesn’t even question why he’s there, simply sets the breakfast table for one more person. Jin Zixuan also doesn’t question him, simply makes him some really strong coffee. After breakfast, he's handed Jin Ling, so his sister and her husband can do some chores, which suits him just fine, because Jin Ling is perfect and amazing and the only one who understands him. He's also a little tired and grumpy today - relatable - so Jiang Cheng ends up on the couch with Jin Ling napping on his chest. Which, alas, means he can't move because he'd wake his precious nephew. With Jin Ling’s reassuring weight keeping him glued to the couch, Jiang Cheng has no choice but to close his eyes.

"A-Cheng. Are you asleep?"

"Mhm."

"A-Cheng, wake up."

When he pries open his eyes, he sees his sister, sitting in the armchair next to the sofa, smiling at them.

"I can't move," Jiang Cheng explains.

"I understand." Of course she does, A-Jie always understands.

He does try to assume a sort of sitting position, so he can better look at her, making sure A-Ling still stays in prime napping position. She has That Look on her face, meaning she wants to Talk About Things, but won't necessarily push him.

"It's really nice that you stopped by today," Jiang Yanli says, and without calling in advance to make sure Wei Wuxian definitely won't be there goes unsaid but not unheard.

"I missed my nephew." Jiang Cheng looks down at A-Ling and smiles. He can’t see much more than one of his chubby cheeks smushed against Jiang Cheng’s chest, and it’s adorable.

"And he missed you." Jiang Yanli smiles and leans forward, so she can gently stroke A-Ling's head. "Did you have a good week?"

Jiang Cheng has to think about Lan Xichen and his kisses and his smile widens, grows impossibly soft, before he quickly tries to wipe it off his face. His sister notices it, of course, as evidenced by her slightly raised eyebrows." Yeah… It was good. "

Jiang Cheng hesitates, because he's not actually sure whether he wants to tell his sister about… All of that. For one, she's paying for his sessions. And it still doesn't feel quite real. Ten days ago he felt horrible and lonely and now Lan Xichen kissed him and is attracted to him and said "slowly, but not casually", which… Does this mean they're boyfriends? That's too quickly, isn't it? But they're not dating, because they both hate dating, but they’re not casual, so the logical conclusion…

"A-Cheng?" Apparently not the first time she's called his name.

"I think I have a boyfriend," is not what he wanted to say and yet his stupid mouth fucking betrays him. Jiang Yanli looks stunned for a few seconds - understandable - then a warm smile spreads over her face. Jiang Cheng lifts his hand, before she can say anything. "I'm… I'm not sure I want to talk about it. It's obviously a recent and surprising turn of events and who knows if anything will actually come of it, you know how I am with relationships, they end before they can start - "

"It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything, if you’re not ready yet."

Jiang Cheng gives her a grateful smile. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but…

"How are your massage sessions going? How many have you had yet?" A seemingly random change of topic, but considering…

"Oh… Those are… Good. Relaxing." Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at his sister who looks so unassuming and innocent… Fuck. She knows. Jiang Cheng's face immediately grows hot. He doesn't know why he ever even tries to keep a secret in this family. "A-jie, how did you.. It's not… He is…"

"As I said, you don't have to talk about it. But you can. You can always talk to me. About anything."

She doesn’t mean it as a reprimand, but Jiang Cheng immediately feels guilty. He has been … many things, these past few months. Has sometimes been unfairly angry at his sister, because she still meets with Wei Wuxian, because Wei Wuxian didn't abandon her, too. Has visited less, and not only because he didn't want to risk bumping into his brother. Hadn’t wanted his sister to know how poorly he was doing, to realise how shitty everything in his life was going.

"I know. Sorry, A-jie."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Just… For being an idiot."

His sister’s smile stays warm, but her tone is a little stern when she says: "You're not an idiot." She leans forward and gently strokes his forehead. Just like she usually does with A-Ling. Just like...

The door opens and someone enters the room. Jiang Cheng turns towards the wall, mortified. Since his sister isn’t home, it must be Wei Wuxian.

“Fuck off.”

Wei Wuxian does not, of course, fuck off. Instead, he comes over and sits down on the edge of the bed.

“I really liked your poem. Which is saying a lot, because I barely made it through without screaming. Horrifying subject matter.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t answer, just squeezes his eyes shut and tries to get his tears to stop falling with the power of his mind.

“You described that dog in such vivid detail, I thought I’d have a heart attack!”

Is Wei Wuxian here to make fun of him? He knows it was just a stupid little poem that can’t compare to getting first place at that stupid science fair. Isn’t it enough to hear that from his mother - does his brother have to rub it in, too? He knows he’s pathetic, crying about this like a little boy.

“Huaisang was raving about it all afternoon. He really liked the… meter you used. Whatever that means.”

Jiang Cheng wipes his face and turns around. Just enough so he can see his brother out of the corner of his eye. “He said that?”

“Yeah! He also said ‘I didn’t realise Jiang Cheng was able to create such beautiful metaphors, I think I’m going to put him on my list of people I’d allow to give me a blowjob.”

Jiang Cheng groans and fully turns around, so he can throw a pillow at his brother. “He didn’t say that!”

Wei Wuxian easily catches the pillow and grins. “It was implied! Anyway… I thought, maybe you want to write some lyrics for Yiling Laozu? I feel like our metaphor game is really lacking at the moment.”

Jiang Cheng frowns. “If you’re just taking the piss…”

“I mean it!” Wei Wuxians reaches out like he wants to wipe Jiang Cheng’s tears, but seems to think better of it. Instead, he starts stroking Jiang Cheng’s forehead.

Jiang Cheng feels… like his tears are going to return. He frowns even harder. “I’m not a fucking baby. Stop that.”

“Aw, but that’s where you’re wrong! You’re my baby brother! Sweet little ChengCheng!”

“Fuck off!”

Jiang Cheng tries to shove Wei Wuxian from the bed with his foot, but Wei Wuxian tackles him instead, wraps his arms around him and squeezes him. Coos into his ear in a disgustingly sweet voice: “My talented Didi! My precious A-Di! Just a tiny, tiny baby with the heart of a poet!”

Jiang Cheng complains loudly and tries to free himself. But he can’t help but laugh.

"Wei Wuxian sends me a selfie every morning." Once again, his stupid mouth does things without his permission.

"Does he now." Jiang Yanli doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the fact Jiang Cheng’s word vomit jumps from possible boyfriend to Wei Wuxian’s selfies.

"He wouldn't do that if he didn't want anything to do with me… Right?"

"He wouldn't. He misses you.” Jiang Yanli, still stroking his head, hesitates, before she says: “Maybe you can consider it… an opening?"

Jiang Cheng closes his eyes for a while, as though that would help him sort the emotional chaos in his mind.

"Wei Wuxian is dating Lan Xichen's brother."

"Yes."

"Are they… Is it serious?"

Just like Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian never had relationships. But not because he was inherently unlovable or scared everyone off with his frown, or anything like that. He used to get crushes all the time that fizzled out just as quickly, said it would be too selfish to be tied down, everyone should be able to enjoy the wonders of being with Wei Wuxian. Though his brother also got way less action than he let people assume.

"Oh, they're… definitely serious." Jiang Yanli laughs.Jiang Cheng opens his eyes again. He wants to ask more, as though now he's fed the monster in his chest scraps of Wei Wuxian’s life, it has realised it’s been starving and craves more and more.

In comparison, it actually seems safer to talk about Lan Xichen. "Lan Xichen might be my boyfriend. Possibly. Hopefully?"

Jiang Yanli, once again, doesn’t comment on the topic change. She does pull back her hand and sits upright, a curious look on her face. "Might?"

"So, we went on a date and we concluded we both dislike dating but like each other and… And he said we should do this ‘slowly, but not casually’. And we… Well, the date ended very… It was nice. So. What do you think?"

He resolutely stares at a spot just above Jiang Yanli's shoulder, refusing to acknowledge his burning face. He's just hot because he's trapped under his nephew who is in the 93rd percentile of weight for toddlers his age. Jiang Cheng’s not sure what it means, but he chooses to believe that A-Ling is stronger and better than 92% of toddlers. And louder than 99%. He’s very proud of his nephew.

"It does sound as though you're both interested in pursuing a relationship with each other."

"So you don't think it's too early?"

"Too early for what?"

"Just… Thinking about him like that."

"You did already like him when you were a teenager."

"What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng does look at her then, mouth open in shock. ”How did you… Nie Huaisang told you, didn't he?"

"He didn't have to." Jiang Yanli tries to hide her smile behind her hand, but Jiang Cheng knows it's there.

Jiang Cheng is just… going to move past this. "But I didn't know him back then. I've not even known him for two weeks and already..."

I'm in love with him. It's not like it's not like him. Jiang Cheng doesn't fall for people often, but when he does, he falls hard. It's just that until now, none of them (none of the two people he’s liked like this before) had ever liked him back.

"Sometimes, two people just fit well together."

Jiang Cheng immediately wants to say "Nobody would fit well with me, I only have sharp edges" but his sister would disagree immediately. And… He can't deny it does feel like they… They just fit, somehow. Even if Jiang Cheng often feels like he doesn't even fit his own skin, like his life doesn't fit him. Spending time with Lan Xichen had been easy from the beginning, the only complications being the issues Jiang Cheng brings into every interaction with another human. And bunny pee.

Jiang Cheng can't help but laugh at the memory.

"Whatever is happening between you two... I'm happy for you. You deserve to be happy, A-Cheng, no matter what you think." Jiang Yanli puts her hand on his shoulder, so he can’t help looking at her. Jiang Cheng does, even though his eyes are burning. His sister looks… intense. The way she looks when something is truly, deeply important to her. "You also deserve to find out that A-Xian doesn't hate you. That he loves and misses you. That he's just as scared he's lost you forever. One of you just has to be brave so you can both realize you still love each other."

Jiang Cheng is saved from having to give a response that's not just crying hysterically, by a very… specific sound coming from his nephew, followed by a very specific smell. Followed by A-Ling waking up and crying, loudly.

"Do you want to take care of this?" his sister asks, resigned to the fact he definitely won’t want to do that. Luckily, there's a solution.

"Jin Zixuan! Hey, come here! Your son is crying for you!" Jiang Cheng yells, sitting upright and carefully holds A-Ling away from his body.

Jin Zixuan does immediately come rushing into the living room, only to frown as soon as the smell hits him.

"Would you mind, A-Xuan…?" his sister asks with the sweetest smile and, of course, Jin Zixuan grabs A-Ling without any complaints, only sends a dark look in Jiang Cheng's direction, who smirks at him.

Jiang Cheng spends the entire day at their house. He helps his sister cook, takes A-Ling to the playground, takes another nap with A-Ling during the afternoon. When hehe falls into his bed at night, his mind feels much quieter and he can sleep peacefully.

Jiang Cheng’s next appointment isn’t until Tuesday, but they exchange a lot of messages in the meantime. Lan Xichen sends him pictures of the bunnies, of his plants, and of his meals. Jiang Cheng, who has neither pets nor meals worthy of taking pictures, suddenly finds himself going on a lot of walks, so he can send Lan Xichen pictures of trees and artsy shots of leaves in puddles. Lan Xichen told him to keep the scarf, so he wears it every time he leaves the house. It keeps him warm.

Now, standing in front of Lan Xichen’s door, Jiang Cheng suddenly feels nervous. They agreed to not mix business with pleasure, so to say. It will be just a very normal session. But Lan Xichen already invited him to stay for dinner after and Jiang Cheng enthusiastically agreed.

It's not a date, because they don't date, but… Will they kiss? He wouldn't mind more kisses…

Lan Xichen greets him with his usual smile and they stare awkwardly at each other for only about ten seconds before Lan Xichen asks him to come inside. He smiles when Jiang Cheng takes off the scarf.

They do manage to keep the session professional, except for one little moment. When Lan Xichen wraps Jiang Cheng in a towel and tucks in the edges, he also tucks a stray hair behind Jang Cheng’s ear. They share a soft look and a smile, then Lan Xichen clears his throat and leaves the room after turning on the music.

Later, they prepare dinner together, and his nervousness earlier turns out to be unfounded. It’s easy for them to just switch into… Jiang Cheng calls it ‘Boyfriend Mode’ in his head, though he’d never say it out loud. Lan Xichen is a very tactile person and Jiang Cheng finds he’s a person who… craves touch. Sometimes their hands will brush against each other, or Jiang Cheng will lean against Lan Xichen, or Lan Xichen will put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s waist or the small of his back. It just seems to come naturally for them and… He never knew or expected it could be this easy.

They kiss. It is simple, like their other touches. Lan Xichen is stirring the pot, while Jiang Cheng tells him about a cute dog he saw during one of his walks. Their eyes meet, Lan Xichen smiles, Jiang Cheng returns the smile. Lan Xichen leans towards him. They kiss. Short, but very tender. Lan Xichen smiles again, his whole face lights up and they kiss again, a little longer. It feels… like a habit. As though they’ve been doing this for a long time, as though they will be doing this for a long time. Which doesn’t mean it’s not also exciting. It makes him feel hot, but in a way that’s soothing… Like drinking hot cocoa after walking through the snow.

During dinner, Lan Xichen asks him about his weekend and Jiang Cheng tells him about the time he spent with A-Ling, which reminds him of the conversation he had with his sister. Jiang Cheng’s first instinct is to ignore that reminder… but Lan Xichen said honesty is very important to him. Jiang Cheng should be upfront. They need to talk about their families and how they want to tell them sooner or later anyway, if this is... And considering their brothers’ relationship… He doesn't want to be responsible for Lan Xichen getting in situations where he might have to lie to his brother or conceal something from him.

So Jiang Cheng spends the rest of the meal trying to mentally prepare himself for yet another conversation about their relationship, possibly about feelings, too. He’s had so many of those in the past few weeks. Maybe all the conversations he’s avoided over the past year can’t be pushed back anymore, and are now trying to break through all at once. Maybe it’s him being selfish… he knows he needs to sort out his life if he wants to be with Lan Xichen. Or maybe… when he cried in front of Lan Xichen and felt safe and understood instead of humiliated… maybe that helped him to stop running away from conversations that scared him.

"Lan-laoshi…There's something I wanted to talk about with you."

"Ah, maybe drop the laoshi when we're... like this?" Lan Xichen chuckles lightly, as he closes the dishwasher. Then he sits back down at the kitchen table and smiles warmly at Jiang Cheng. “What did you want to talk about?”

"Right, I can do that… anyway, I should tell you… I told my sister. About you. Us. This." Jiang Cheng takes a sip from his water, so he stops adding unnecessary words. "I hope that's okay? We didn't really discuss whether… and things are a little complicated right now anyway, with our families… "

Lan Xichen's eyes widen a little. He looks surprised, but not concerned. "Oh, of course. I don’t mind at all."

"Have you… have you told your brother yet?"

"Ah… Wangji knows that there is someone, but… “ Lan Xichen cocks his head, then says softly: “I understand your relationship with Wei Wuxian is somewhat tense at the moment, so… Would you want to tell your brother yourself?"

Jiang Cheng can't help the bitter laugh that escapes him. "I'm not talking to my brother at all these days."

"Oh, I didn't realise… That must be difficult, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's my fault."

Right. Lan Xichen doesn't know. Once he knows, he'll probably be disappointed in him. Maybe get second thoughts after all. He really shouldn't have told his sister, it's too early, too fragile, Nie Huaisang knows too… Soon, they'll both know when Jiang Cheng gets rightfully dumped and…

Lan Xichen rests his hand warmly on top of Jiang Cheng's. His eyes and his smile are just as warm. The gesture is both a reassurance and an invitation. Jiang Cheng doesn’t have to talk about it, doesn’t have to say anything, but he could.

And he really can. He could… tell Lan Xichen anything. Show him the worst parts of himself and… Even if it changes his opinion of Jiang Cheng, he wouldn’t make him feel worse than he already does.

It's not really a conversation that can be avoided, is it? So he should just go ahead and get it over with.

“I do want to tell you… it’s just…” Jiang Cheng sighs and drags a hand over his face. “I’m not sure I can do… I’ve never… So I don’t know how I would… I might be a mess.”

Lan Xichen simply smiles, nods, and says: “Alright.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jiang Cheng is sitting on the couch, a pot of tea is on the table in front of him, and the bunnies are exploring the living room. Lan Xichen places a box of tissues on the couch table, before sitting down next to him. Jiang Cheng can’t help but laugh at that.

He’s never actually tried to put into words what happened, because Jiang Yanli knows what happened. He assumes Wei Wuxian told her, anyway, and the rest she must’ve guessed correctly because she knows them so well… And he’s been ignoring anyone else who could ask about it. So now he has to find words to give to Lan Xichen, has to tell him about how horrible Jiang Chang has been, can be, when he wants to show him anything but.

Jiang Cheng is too scared to look at him while he talks. Scared to see the very moment Lan Xichen switches from sympathy to judgment. He doesn’t want to see Lan Xichen’s eyes when they start seeing him the same way Jiang Cheng sees himself.

He tries to stick to the facts: After Jiang Yanli moved in with Jin Zixuan, they sold their family home.Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were going to get a flat closer to uni together. They found one; Jiang Cheng paid for the deposit. A week after the move, the day before their moving in party, Wei Wuxian told him he was moving in with the Wens instead to help take care of A-Yuan, since Wen Ning’s hospital stay didn’t seem to be a short one. Jiang Cheng got angry. They had a fight (Jiang Cheng barely remembers what they said) that ended with Jiang Cheng telling Wei Wuxian he’s free to leave. Specifically told him to ‘go the fuck away and stay away’. And Wei Wuxian listened. In the past year, they’ve seen each other two times: Jiang Yanli’s birthday and Jin Ling’s birthday.

Saying it out loud, hearing it out loud…

“So, in conclusion: I’m a fucking asshole. Now you know.” Jiang Cheng laughs, a bitter sound, and his fingernails dig into his palms. He still can’t look at Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen… doesn’t say anything. But he takes his hand.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Jiang Cheng closes his eyes. Will this be followed by ‘I didn’t realise this is the kind of person you are’ or ‘You’re right, I shouldn’t be doing this with you’? He knows Lan Xichen won’t actually say either of this, but…

“Wanyin… would you look at me?”

Jiang Cheng really doesn’t want to, but… Lan Xichen said his name so carefully, so gently… He opens his eyes and turns his head.

Lan Xichen’s eyes are still kind.

Jiang Cheng’s heart draws tight, so tight it hurts. And then… it softens.

Lan Xichen smiles. This is not unusual. After all, he’s very generous with his smiles. Jiang Cheng still finds himself surprised.

“You must have been very hurt.” Lan Xichen squeezes his hand when he says this. Which is good, because Jiang Cheng can focus on that instead. On the warmth of his hand, his elegant, long fingers covering his. Instead of… How Lan Xichen picked this to focus on, after everything he said.

Did he make it sound like it was Wei Wuxian’s fault? He’s been hiding behind his anger and blame for so long, maybe that has influenced his telling of the events. Maybe Lan Xichen got the wrong idea. “I… Yes, but… that’s no excuse. He was just helping… he was doing the right thing, even if I… and it’s been so long, so I should really… I should have apologized a long time ago, I’m the one who messed it all up.”

“Are you waiting for him to make the first step?”

He can’t hear any judgment in Lan Xichen’s voice. He’s not saying ‘this is your fault, so you should be the one apologizing’. He’s simply asking about Jiang Cheng’s feelings, because he thinks they matter. Though there’s nothing simple about his feelings.

Jiang Cheng has verbalized this part many times. Has said ‘he abandoned me, he should be the one who apologises’, and variations of it, to his sister. But deep down it’s not what he actually thinks. Because Lan Xichen’s eyes are still kind, because he’s holding his hand, because there’s no judgment, because he doesn’t expect him to answer a certain way… Jiang Cheng tries to be honest.

“I think I am. He’s always… Whenever we fought, he was always the one… Well, he didn’t apologise, but he just went back to teasing me, went back to normal… He knows I just get angry, no matter what I actually feel, he used to know that… I thought it’d be the same this time. But… So, maybe he doesn’t want to make up.”

Tears burn in his eyes and he’s not sure it’s even worth the effort trying to hold them back. They’ll spill sooner or later, just like these words are spilling from his mouth, now that he’s allowing them to. He’s still looking at Lan Xichen’s hand. At both their hands, resting on Lan Xichen’s thigh. Lan Xichen’s thumb strokes the back of his hand, so Jiang Cheng continues.

“If I went to him, he would come back. He’s always… I know he would. But I don’t want to be an obligation or a burden for him. I don’t want him to feel pity for me. If he doesn’t want to… And I understand, our relationship has never been easy. We always existed in comparison to each other and I know he held himself back sometimes, to make up for my lacking… I had thought, with my parents gone it would be - which is a horrible thought - but I thought it would get easier, gentler. But I guess I’m still me. So… I understand. And if he thinks I hate him, he’ll stay away. He seems happy with his life, so…”

Jiang Cheng is crying now, can’t even be bothered by it. And there’s still more words waiting to burst out of him, finally freed after a year of living only in the darkest corners of Jiang Cheng’s heart. Lan Xichen still isn’t saying anything, just listens to everything, holds his hand, shares his warmth with Jiang Cheng, so he doesn’t feel cold while baring himself.

“I can’t help it though, I’m still… I’m still angry. Not just at myself, at him. He said we’d always be brothers, would always be together… I know it’s childish, but he shouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. If he was able to just leave like that, he shouldn’t have… They were my friends, too, I could have helped! He just made his choice and left! And fine, if he’s happier that way… Fine! But then he sends me his stupid selfies, every fucking day! Who does that? Why would he… He should just stay gone, if that’s what he wants!”

He draws in a shuddering breath and sinks back against the couch. There. He’s said everything he’s been holding in. He feels… He doesn’t know what he feels. Drained? Relieved?

Though there’s one more thing, one last thought that wants to escape: “I miss him so much.”

They’re both quiet for a while. Jiang Cheng, who is avoiding Lan Xichen’s eyes again, grabs a tissue and wipes his face. He’s thinking about making a ‘funny’ comment about how the tissues did come in handy after all to break the silence, but Lan Xichen is quicker: “Can I give you a hug?”

Jiang Cheng turns to look at him and… He doesn’t know what to make of Lan Xichen’s expression, his voice. There’s understanding and sympathy, but he also looks… sad, maybe, and it feels like he’s asking to be hugged just as much as he’s asking to give a hug. Jiang Cheng nods and immediately, Lan Xichen lets go of his hand, wraps his arms around him and pulls him close. Jiang Cheng returns the hug tightly, buries his face in Lan Xichen’s hair. Tightens his hold whenever Lan Xichen does the same.

The hug is maybe one of the best he’s ever received. Lan Xichen hugs without restraint. Doesn't hold back, doesn’t feel embarrassed about wanting to hold someone. Doesn't feel embarrassed about seeking such closeness.

Jiang Cheng feels warm and safe and… liked. Even after everything he just said. So he keeps holding on to him until Lan Xichen eventually draws back. He doesn’t fully let go of Jiang Cheng, he only pulls away enough to smile down at him.

“Thank you for telling me. That can’t have been easy.”

“Uh, well, thank you for listening. And it… well, actually it ended up being too easy. Sorry, I just kinda barfed up all those words.” Oh fuck, way to ruin a moment.

However, Lan Xichen simply laughs, before he turns more serious again. “Do you want to hear my thoughts? Or do you just want to rest now?”

Oh… He is exhausted. But simply the fact Lan Xichen gives him this choice is enough to makes him want to keep talking. “I’d like to hear what you think.”

Lan Xichen turns a little, so they can look at each other more comfortably. Jiang Cheng also adjusts his position, until they’re facing each other. Lan Xichen takes Jiang Cheng’s hand again, while the other rests on Jiang Cheng’s knee.

“I don’t think you’re an asshole.”

Jiang Cheng grimaces at such an obvious lie. Lan Xichen chuckles and lifts his hand to smooth out Jiang Cheng’s frown with his fingertips. “Don’t frown, let me finish talking.”

He rolls his eyes a little, but stops frowning and nods.

“I think your anger is very understandable. Your hurt, too. It’s easy to look back at this moment and see everything that went wrong, what you could have done better. But back then you were shocked and hurt, so you lashed out. It doesn’t matter if your brother had good intentions, or did ‘the right thing’... that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be upset how it affected you.”

Lan Xichen casually wipes away a tear that escaped Jiang Cheng’s eye and continues talking.

“It seems you’ve carried around this moment since then, have thought about it every day, have regretted it every day. And every additional day you weren’t talking made what you did worse in your eyes. So with every day that goes by, trying to fix it becomes even harder. But I don’t think it’s impossible, not at all. What you told me just now… you could tell it to Wei Wuxian.”

Jiang Cheng, who had been stunned into silence by Lan Xichen’s words simultaneously piercing his heart and soothing it, adamantly shakes his head. Probably frowns again. “ Fuck no. I can’t talk with him about this… I’m not good at talking about my feelings.”

“Oh?” Lan Xichen seems to be holding back a laugh. “But you just did it. Very well, in my opinion.”

“That’s different!”

“How?”

“Well… because you’re you. And Wei Wuxian and I… we never talked about the painful stuff because we knew it would end badly. And even if I would manage to talk about it without getting angry or saying hurtful things… Getting him to talk honestly about his feelings would be just as difficult.”

“Maybe he’s been thinking about this as much as you did and has his own regrets.”

Jiang Cheng's first instinct is, of course, to disagree, but… Lan Xichen has said so many things he wants to be true, has said things that felt true… “Yeah… maybe.”

“I know confronting the issue is scary. But maybe it’s more scary to think this… hm… this limbo you’re in will continue? You’re regretting, you’re missing him… but you’re also still hoping. I think so, anyway.”

“Yeah…” Jiang Cheng rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah… maybe… “

Lan Xichen looks at him fondly, eyes crinkling. He caresses his cheek again, wiping a few more tears in the process. Jiang Cheng would like to hug him again, would like to kiss him, to bury himself in his warmth. But he realises he really needs to blow his nose, so he does that instead of any of those much nicer things. “Ugh… sorry. Somehow I always end up crying all over you.”

“Ah, last time it was my turn, now you again… it can be our thing.”

Jiang Cheng gives him an incredulous look and they both laugh. “No thank you, that sounds exhausting. I’m sure we can think of something less emotionally draining.”

Lan Xichen hums, clearly amused and presses a kiss to the back of Jiang Cheng’s hand. “True, that would definitely be preferable. But… just for the record… I do not mind. Thank you for trusting me with this. I know how difficult it is to show someone… the parts of yourself you’re ashamed of. It’s something I’m still struggling with. ...As you know.”

Lan Xichen seems embarrassed, which Jiang Cheng cannot accept, so he lifts their hands and presses a kiss to Lan Xichen’s hand this time. “I do trust you. And I… you’re much better at all of this, of course, but you can trust me too, with stuff like that. I’ll try to be… you know... Uhm, anyway, I think I do feel catharsis now! So maybe that’s just our thing, haha.”

“Mhm, definitely sounds better than emotional devastation. Though I suppose they often are closely linked.”

They share another smile, and Jiang Cheng once again thinks how much he’d like to kiss him. But once again, he doesn’t. He suddenly becomes painfully aware of the dried tears on his cheeks, so he excuses himself to go wash his face. He returns to Lan Xichen sitting on the floor between the bunnies and joins him.

This time, Cloud doesn’t pee on him. Lan Xichen still drives him home later and they kiss in the car.

There’s an underlying tenderness every time Lan Xichen touches him. Jiang Cheng only hopes his own touch feels the same. But this kiss… It’s really… They’ve been good at kissing from the start. But this time…It leaves him breathless.

It’s a kiss like their hug earlier. Without embarrassment. Without the need to hold back or hide any feelings. Even though Lan Xichen would have every reason to be cautious.

Once they’ve caught their breath, Lan Xichen invites him over for Thursday afternoon. No massage this time. Just a walk, then tea and cake at his apartment after. Jiang Cheng agrees, obviously. Even if he had class or something, he’d probably still agree. After a kiss like that…

Later, he finds himself in bed with a notebook. It’s a present Wei Wuxian got him - made for him - for his 18th birthday. It has Jiang Cheng’s poems, in beautiful calligraphy… and with illustrations by Wei Wuxian. He even drew a dog for him.

Wei Wuxian… probably misses him, too.

Maybe they can be better brothers after all this. Maybe Jiang Cheng can be a better brother.

The thought of contacting him is still terrifying. But… it feels like the terror becomes smaller.

So, maybe soon…

#the untamed #mdzs #xicheng #Jiang Cheng #Lan Xichen #cql #modern au #JC actually talks about his feelings #To Meet You verse #betty drabbles