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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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Young and Beautiful - Steve Rogers smut

The one where you were supposed to be a one-night stand, but Steve won't let that happen

Warnings: smut, and a little bit of angst.

A/N: this was our first ever patreon-voted fic, chosen for the month of May! My patreons at the $3 tier get to send me their ideas once a month and two of them end up being voted so I can write one of them each month. June’s fic is the one where Ransom needs to get a sugar mommy, and if you want to suggest a story for our July’s fic, please consider becoming a patreon! Thank you to my darling @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for reading this over for me.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The first time wasn’t a mistake, I could admit to that. Steve had been coming to the same bar where I worked for almost a year now. I knew who he was, of course. Everyone knew - he was hard to miss. But I think what he liked about our run-down place is that no one seemed to care about Captain America and the things he did when he didn’t have a bottle of beer in his hand.

Over here, he was just Steve. And Steve tipped well and drank a lot - I was sure he couldn’t get drunk, no matter how many beers I served him, but he never stopped asking me for more.

So, needless to say, he was adored. Adored by my boss, who was always around to keep watch of his customers and keep them in line. Adored by Luke, who guarded the entrance, for all the nights Steve helped him get rid of men who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. And adored by all the waitresses, for precisely the same reason - and because I always shared my tips with all of them.

Even the kitchen staff adored Steve. Besides, it’s not like he was hard on the eye - all the girls (customers and staff) were constantly fawning over him, but he was nothing short of a gentleman, always.

Actually, he seemed to avoid the members of the opposite sex as best as he could, clearly not interested in whatever it was that they planned to possibly get to do with him. Well, except for me.

He never avoided me. I always figured it was because I was the guardian of the alcohol - we’d even joke about it sometimes, when he came to sit by the bar after politely declining someone’s advances.

“It’s just hard to understand how to date nowadays,” he commented one day after a pretty girl actually asked him out on a date right in front of me, but he refused. I shrugged as I wiped the counter, thinking if there was any advice I could give him.

“It really isn’t that hard. You go out to dinner, walk her home and when you step in front of her door, you ask her for some coffee. She’ll usually do it herself, but if you want to show your interest…” His frown was amusing, to say the least, but I held back my laughter so he wouldn’t be even more uncomfortable.

“A coffee?” Giggling, I nodded. “Before bed? But…”

“It’s a metaphor, Steve. A lady can’t very well invite you into her sheets, now can she?” He blushed three different shades of red when I winked, another giggle escaping. “I mean, she can, but we like to keep some things unsaid - innuendos can be very sexy.”

Two months had passed and if Steve made use of my lessons, I wouldn’t know. He never brought anyone to the bar and never left with any lady who approached him either.

“What can I get ya, Steve?” I’d always ask. I’d never once called him Cap or anything other than the name he used to introduce himself - even though I obviously knew who he was. He always took his time before answering my questions, even if they required a simple yes or no, which amused me to no end.

For a while, I actually believed a gun or one of the buildings the Hulk had undoubtedly thrown in his direction had left him with a difficulty of hearing. But then after my first question, he never seemed to have any problem understanding me at all.

“Just a beer,” he’d say, a small, soft smile as he tried not to stare too much at me, fingers tapping on the counter while I got his order. I appreciated his effort not to make me uncomfortable - I knew he’d seen how often men did that to me. I had no doubt that was why he only ever looked me in the eye from under those huge eyelashes of his.

“There you go.” Always the same routine, we never once deviated from it. Until one night when I was supposed to close the bar and he heard my boss instructing me to be careful.

“There’s been a lot of robberies this late at night. Make sure you lock everything up properly.” I saluted in jest, making the old man laugh and shake his head at me. “See you tomorrow, kid.”

There were only a handful of customers - Steve included, and he was the only one by the bar, so I threw him a quick smile as I wiped the glasses and started to clean the counter.

“Can I get you anything else?” I offered, but he only grimaced in response, leaving me confused. “Is there something wrong?” He stared directly at me without answering for a while before he was able to snap out of whatever it was that had frozen him.

“You’re supposed to leave by yourself at two in the morning?” I chuckled lightly at his concern, avoiding his gaze so he wouldn’t see how it warmed my heart that he’d be preoccupied over me, someone that was a little more than a stranger to him.

“It’s part of the job,” I reassured him. “Well, usually it’s part of Luke’s job. But whenever he has to leave early, it’s my duty to fill in for him.” He nodded, but didn’t make any movement towards leaving. Usually, he would be gone by now, but it wasn’t that extraordinary for him to stay until the hour I left.

This was the first time he stayed this long though, considering I wasn’t the one responsible for closing the bar and I only realized it when I looked around and noticed we were the last two people left in the room.

“Planning on drinking much more?” I joked, trying to gauge if he was going to be much longer, but he seemed startled by my question, looking around to verify the same thing I’d just noticed.

“Oh, no. Not at all.” I smiled, thankful that he was conscious and wouldn’t force me to stay even longer after my shift had finished. “I just figured I could walk you home. It is pretty late, after all.”

My heart warmed up at how sweet and thoughtful this man was. He had no reason to wait for me to finish my job just to walk me home, yet here he was. “Thank you, Steve,” I acknowledged, sending him a grateful grin. “Let me just check the bathrooms real quick. I’ll grab my purse and we can leave.”

He nodded, watching me do as I said and in no time at all we took off together in the direction of my apartment. I wasn’t worried about making small talk with him on the way there - I knew he was a good conversationalist from all the times he had stayed by the bar instead of taking his beer to a table, and I adored the stories he told of his missions just as much as I appreciated how he genuinely cared about what I had to say.

The walk to my place seemed shorter than ever before, and in a few minutes we were standing in front of my door as I searched for my keys in my bag.

“C-Can I…” He murmured as I looked for it, glancing up at him and smiling to signal he should continue even though I couldn’t give him my full attention at that moment. “Would you… Do you have some coffee?”

I was so shocked that my head whipped up to stare at him, eyes wide and unbelieving. Did Steve… Did he… Did he want to have sex with me? “I mean… in your apartment, do you have some coffee in your apartment?”

The thought was so extraordinary that the second I realized his intentions, a fire of desire warmed my lower belly, not because he was Captain America, but because he was an attractive and sweet guy that was way out of my league and I couldn’t believe he was into me.

He kept talking as I kept blinking at him, trying to process what was going on. “’Cause I’d really like to have some coffee… with you… If you want some too…”

His voice got smaller the longer it took for me to answer him, until it disappeared completely and he cleared his throat. “Nevermind.” He was about to turn around and make a run for it, I was sure, but I was able to grasp his wrist just in time, signalling him to stop because I had something to say.

“I would love to make you some coffee, Steve.”

So yeah, the first time wasn’t a mistake. He was way too fucking sweet and I got hot just by seeing how nervous he was to ask me for some “coffee”, incredulous that I was capable of affecting this giant man that much.

So as soon as we were in my apartment, I tied up my hair with the little hair tie I always kept on my wrist during work and got on my knees for him.

And I cherished every fucking second of it.

The way his mouth fell open in a gasp when I reached for his jeans, the little moans he let out as I licked his member… I couldn’t close my eyes, too transfixed by his expressions to miss anything.

The way he pulled me by my hair to devour my mouth, hands so eager to undress me that he ended up ripping my blouse, but it only made me giggle.

The way his groan sounded almost painful when he picked me up, shoved me against the door and penetrated me, filling me so beautifully I hit my head back against the wood and didn’t even notice it.

He got me to cum without almost no preparation, just from the thrill of it all, the stretch of his member inside of me. When I urged him to cum in my pussy, the look on his eyes was enough to get me to cum again, milking him dry as he emptied himself with a growl, forehead dropping against mine while he tried to catch his breath.

I was expecting him to leave immediately or maybe stay for an actual coffee. I wasn’t expecting him to pull out, drop to his knees and start lapping his cum from inside of me, eyes as focused on mine as I had been for him only minutes before.

Burying my fingers in his short locks, I tried to keep myself up despite the way my legs trembled, but Steve just adjusted them so they’d be over his shoulders and held me up with his face buried in me.

I had never cum so many times in a row. But then again, I had never had a man eat his own cum out of me.

I fully intended it to be a one time thing, and that was my plan. I thanked him for eating me out, made him some coffee, giggled at his stories about his friends and for a second it almost looked like we were back at the bar, only the counter was my kitchen table and I was allowed to sit on the other side.

He didn’t ask to stay the evening and I breathed a sigh of relief after I closed the door behind him, ignoring the slight empty feeling that momentarily hit me. This is what I wanted, I reminded myself, and by acting the way I expected him to, he had made it clear that he understood the rules of the dating world he claimed to know so little of.

This was a one time deal. Nothing more.

But then the first night we saw each other at the bar again, it was when he burst through the door to punch some guy who came in just as I was closing, trying to steal the money we had in the vault. I was so fucking relieved to see his face that all I could do was tremble in his arms after the police came to get the robber, and of course I couldn’t let him go after that.

He walked me home and I didn’t even ask anything, just stood on my tiptoes to kiss his lips, using my grip on his shirt to pull him in as he helped me with my clothes.

“You’re so fucking pretty…” He moaned, and perhaps that should have been my first sign, the one that alerted me to stop what I was doing and not make this into a mistake I couldn’t take back.

He hadn’t talked the last time. He had never complimented me before.

“God, your ass…” He groaned as he palmed it, helping me over his lap when he took a seat on my couch, until I could fuse the both of us and ride us to hysteria.

But I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind because it felt so fucking good to be desired by him, to have him inside of me, cumming deep into my pussy only to eat it all out of me again.

It didn’t take long for me to learn about the errors of my way, though. In fact, it started the very next day, when he walked into the bar grinning from ear to ear and made a beeline in my direction.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, and my eyes went wide as two saucers, especially when I saw him lean over the counter like he intended to peck my lips.

“Hello, Captain.” I quickly turned my back to him, facing the shelves of liquor to pretend that I was looking for something. My heart sank to my stomach as I took in what was happening, what I had just done in my effort to put some distance between us as if last night had never happened. “Can I get you anything?”

The time it took for him to answer almost had me looking at him from over my shoulder, but I restrained myself. “Yeah, you,” he finally said, and I breathed out in surprise. “Why are you acting this way?”

I panicked for a few seconds, reaching up for an already clean glass to attack it with my rag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tried to reassure the both of us, still incapable of looking him in the eye.

But I could see his massive body by the end of the counter from the corner of my eyes, where he always sat, and I saw him tap the old battered wood with his fingers - fingers he had used to spread me open for his tongue to reach - as he thought.

I hoped he would let it go. I hoped he would not.

“Fine,” he relented, and I froze, uncertain of what he meant. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” My head snapped up just in time to watch him leave, and he didn’t even look over his shoulder.

I tried to tell myself it was for the best. He needed some time to get over whatever the hell it was that he thought he was feeling and tomorrow things would go back to normal. But that wasn’t what happened.

He came back with flowers the next day, and I didn’t have any reasonable excuse not to accept it. He didn’t push for anything, just gave me the bouquet before asking for his usual drink. And then he proceeded to stay the entire evening right there, where he always sat, carefully watching my every move.

For the first time in a while, I broke two glasses in a single evening.

The day after that, he came with a box of chocolates. I couldn’t hide the smile because they were my favorite - I didn’t know how he knew it until he reminded me.

“You told me you liked them right when I started coming to this place.” His eyes were so heavy with a sad feeling that I couldn’t recognize that I had to avert my gaze. It messed with my heartbeat, it left my throat feeling dry.

“Thanks, Captain,” I softly acknowledged it, and I saw the way his grip on the box tightened. I saw it in the way it was slightly crumpled when I took it from his hands, but he didn’t say a word.

There was only so much that he could take, though. And I knew that. It didn’t help that my boss had caught onto his intentions and started to push me to go out on a date with him.

“Why don’t you give the poor guy a chance?” He’d incite, much to Steve’s utter glee.

“Yeah, Y/N. Why don’t you go out with me?” Steve urged, and although he never asked when my boss wasn’t around to initiate the teasing, I knew he wondered.

And the truth was that I wondered about it too. Because everything was screwed up now. When I gave him his beer and our fingers brushed, mine were left tingling. When I looked his way to find his gaze already on me, I shivered.

So yes, the second time was undeniably a mistake, but there wouldn’t be a third time. I’d make sure of it.

Steve’s P.O.V.

I was tired of waiting. I knew I had wanted her since the first time I laid my eyes on her, when I decided to stop at this rundown bar in the hopes of one night of crappy beer without being bothered by anyone asking for autographs or pictures.

I’d come here almost every night when I could escape the tower to watch her work, slowly getting her to warm up to me, and I fell for her personality in the process.

The way she clearly saw me as Steve, and not my title.

The way she always laughed at my stories and shared what had happened in the previous nights with the raucous customers.

The way she seemed to care about everyone and everything that came into contact with her.

So what started as desire became something deeper and for the first time since I was unfrozen, I found myself eager to understand what dating in this new century was like. I asked Sam for advice, and even Tony for any tips he could give me, but their general ideas didn’t matter to me when all I wanted was one single person.

Her.

So I asked her for her thoughts on the matter and was surprised with myself when I put them into practice. I was even more surprised when she accepted my advances and welcomed me into her embrace.

I was sure I’d never been happier than that evening.

But to have her pretend nothing had happened and even worse - treat me like a stranger after I had learned the taste of her skin? Nothing hurt deeper than that.

And still, I understood. I realized then that she hadn’t seen the situation the way that I had. She had thought all I wanted was a one-night deal - well, two-night deal - because I had never shown her anything to make her think differently.

So I set out to do just that. My way this time. And I was just about ready to ask her on a proper date when I was forced away for a whole damn month, having to resort to my hand and my memories of her body to get through the cold nights on the field.

The second I was back in the city, I only had one thing in mind. To get what I wanted, in whatever way she would let me.

“Can we talk?” My voice sounded clipped to my own ears, and maybe that’s why her mouth opened in surprise - or maybe it was seeing me at the bar so early, when there was barely anyone around, after being absent for so long.

“Sure,” she finally accepted, shrugging like it was no big deal, but I knew better than that. She might not know it, but I could read her perfectly, and I knew she was hiding her true feelings even to herself. I knew those feelings were deeper than she had ever felt. I knew they made her scared.

“Not here.” She stopped cleaning glasses then, frozen for a second before she looked around, taking in the fact that no one else was going to need her for a while. There was nowhere to run and maybe I was a jerk for doing this during her work hours, but I was a desperate jerk and I couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Okay.” She sounded small, and I knew what she was expecting to get out of this conversation. Closure, in one way or another. For me to finally let go of her. But I wouldn’t.

I wanted her too damn bad to let her escape like that.

“Go out with me.” I asked the second that the office door was closed behind us, and she immediately started shaking her head. “Yes, please,” I insisted. “Let me show you that I want more from you. I want so much more.”

“I can’t give you more,” was her answer, and she still avoided my eyes as she spoke. “One night, you even had two. That’s all I can give you. Please don’t ask me for anything more.”

“Why?” I asked, and the frustration in my voice was enough to get her to meet my eyes for the first time that evening. “Why are you trying to avoid this? I know you want me, Y/N. You wouldn’t have slept with me if you didn’t. So just tell me why.”

“I can’t,” she insisted, moving towards the door, but I grasped her hand to stop her before she could slip through it - much like she had done that first night, when I thought I’d screwed up any chance I had to ever be with her.

“Tell me why you’re holding yourself back from me,” I ordered, anger and desire creating an explosive cocktail inside of me, making my voice hoarse. I saw her shiver. I watched her break.

“Because it was too fucking good and I swear to God, if you get your mouth on me again, I’m gonna marry you.” Our expressions mirrored one another, eyes wide, mouths hanging open. She couldn’t believe she had let out her feelings like this. I couldn’t believe there was all there was to it.

I dropped to my knees before her.

“Come here.” I shoved her jeans all the way down to her ankles, sending the button flying somewhere. I couldn’t tell where and I didn’t care. All I wanted was to show her that there was nothing wrong with wanting this, with wanting me because as long as she allowed me to, I’d give anything to be with her.

My tongue was so hungry to taste her sweetness again. I licked a stripe between her lower lips before I could even get my hand there, spreading her with my fingers for easier access.

God, she was heavenly. I watched her let her head fall back against the door, much like the first time I was able to be in this position, and my heartbeat fluttered at the realization that this time, I was much closer to getting what I really wanted from her.

“I’ve been terrified of my own feelings for long enough,” I decided to confess, parting from her clit to be able to speak but slipping two digits inside her hole, filling her up, preparing her to welcome me. “I can wait for you to come to terms with yours. But I can’t keep myself away,” I warned, quickening my movements as I chased away the taste of her in my tongue. “So don’t ask that of me.”

Her moan had my eyes sparkling with excitement. I lowered my head to suck her button, see the way it made her thighs tremble on each side of my face.

“So fucking sexy,” I moaned against her cunt. “Come for me, sweetheart. Drench my face.” Her little cry of ecstasy denounced she was about to do just that, so I twirled my tongue around her clit, rubbing my digits against her sweet spot as her body tensed under my ministrations.

“There you go…” I whispered, fascinated with the way she looked after her release. It was like she glowed from the inside, muscles relaxing to accept my caresses when I finished cleaning her with my tongue and rose to my full height.

“Next time you try to pretend something between us didn’t happen, I’m gonna bend you over the counter and spank your ass in front of all of the other patrons,” I warned her before nibbling her earlobe. “Go out with me,” I tried again, and she took a deep breath before answering, looking up at me from under her eyelashes.

“Okay.”

#my fics #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #smut #patreon one-shot #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers reader inserts #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers one-shot

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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Three Minutes

Prompt: Harry slips up and it’s only right his wife serves him a little punishment.

Word Count: 3.2 k +

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (sexting, dirty talk, public, subby!h)

AN: I’m excited to share this!! I’m pretty sure I’m going to do a part 2. Let me know if you’d like to see this! I’m dedicating this to @harrywritingsbyme because she’s an amazing writer and you need to read everything of hers! Requests open ☺️

Reblog if you can!

Harry was dreading his interview with Howard Stern. The guy was an obnoxious prick who had no filter and liked to put people on the spot - it’s what he’s doing right now.

You were off to the side, watching the interview next to Jeff. It was matter of time before Howard brought you up to pick and prod at your husband.

“So Harry, you’re married, yes?” Howard asks, typical sunglasses on and curly permed hair donned. His mouth a little to close to the microphone.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry smiles tightly, hands rubbing on this upper thighs. He spares a quick glance over to you.

“She’s here, right?” Howard looks over at you and winks, “Fucking gorgeous babe, huh?”

You roll your eyes at the interviewers remark and Harry’s isn’t pleased but nicely responds, “She’s amazing, way out of my league.”

Howard laughs, “Now I have to ask you, does she tour with you?”

Harry replies, “Yeah. For the most part, sometimes she’ll go off to visit family or friends for a bit.”

The interview smirks, “Does she get worried you’re going to fuck other people while she’s not there? I mean you have girls falling at your feet. It must be hard to avoid temptation.”

You blink owlishly, attempting to contain the offended scoff bubbling in your throat. Jeff snickers and you send him a elbow.

Your husbands face can’t hide his annoyance at the question, “Are you asking me if it’s hard not to cheat on my wife?”

“I mean you could have a line up of girls after every show willing to blow you. I couldn’t be satisfied going home to the same thing every night.”

The band is looking back and forth at each other - clearly uncomfortable. Mitch’s face completely blank - of course.

“Well, I mean - I think that kind of stuff like...people going crazy over you was exciting when I was a bit younger. But no, I mean I’m very much in love and also consider myself a monogamous person.”

“Man, I mean - some of the songs you write about her? Watermelon Sugar, that’s clearly about eating her out,” Howard laughs, the tune playing softly in the background.

Jeff nearly chokes on the water he’s drinking and you pat him hard on the back - as payback for making Harry do this interview.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had pussy so good I’d write about it,” the interview jokes crudely. The women interviewer tittering in the background at his antics.

Harry fumbles, “Uh-uhm, it’s not uh- necessarily about anything or any act like...in particular. Just about having a good time with the person you love.”

The female interviewer who stays mostly quite chirps in to break the tension, “Is it hard to be long-distance when she’s not on the road with you?”

“Not at all. Most of the time she’s with me but we’re lucky we have technology that helps us not feel so far away from each other.”

Howard smiles, “How do you not go crazy being without sex for long amounts of time?”

It’s odd how obsessed this guy is with sex. As well as painting Harry as some sex-crazed rockstar who can’t go a day without.

Harry then goes on to put his entire, big ass foot in his mouth. “Y‘know that’s uh-that’s what good about FaceTime and Snapchat.”

The interviewer grins like a predator at Harry’s admission. You’re face is bright fucking pink. You’re gonna murder him.

“Well you heard it here first, folks. The key to how Harry Styles - one of the greatest artist of his time- keeps a happy relationship with his wife while he’s on the road. Dick pics and FaceTime sex.”

Harry glances over at you, his face apologetic as he already knows he in trouble.

You’re not that embarrassed - it not like it’s a weird thing to do but you didn’t want him talking about it with a trashy talk show host.

The interview is almost over which is good because Harry’s about to lose his temper after he’s asked about his step-father’s passing and the stalker who was harassing you two.

During the interview however, you get a wonderful fucking idea as easy payback for Harry’s little slip up.

After Harry’s tossed his headset and microphone pack off with a little too much force to be unnoticeable - he’s sliding up beside you.

“Baby love,” He murmurs sheepishly into your cheek, nuzzling there for a moment, and breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“You did good, H,” You reply softly, landing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back to brush his hair off his forehead.

“Y’not mad?” Harry asks warily, knowing he got nervous and gave a little too much information.

“No baby, not mad at all,” Your voice steady and believable. It was true - you weren’t mad, just a little annoyed.

He seems confused. He knows you like the back of his hand and usually, you get peeved when he says something in interviews you’d rather the word not know.

Like the one time he let it slip you had an affinity for hooking up in hotel pools after dark. Prat.

Harry multiple appearances that day and it ends in a dinner at a fancy restaurant in Beverly Hills with big wigs.

You were invited but declined, despite Harry’s pouting and whines for you to go. You were the only thing that made these work obligations go faster.

However, you had other plans and a little bit of revenge to play on your unsuspecting husband.

All in good fun - of course.

Harry sits down with a group of people from his label. They’re all dressed in tight suits and rolex watches.

Harry on the other hand is in a flowy button-up only halfway done and a tight pair is skinny jeans. Jeff is dressed pretty casually too.

They were talking about tour dates and had just received their appetizers when he gets the text from you. Your name in his phone as baby love.

Harry nearly chokes on his water when he opens the message to reveal an image of you nearly naked in your shared bed. You skin tone standing out against the baby blue comforter.

You have one of his vintage tees on as well as some creme boyshort panties. The shirt is lifted though, rumpled up by your collarbones to reveal your breasts.

Harry wants to drool over the picture but doesn’t want to risk anyone else seeing his wife in any state of undress. So he quickly responds.

Baby, I’m at dinner.

You reply with another picture. A hand tucked down your underwear, cupping your heat. He can see the outline of your fingers underneath the thin fabric.

Already have something you could eat.

Harry can already feel himself twitch in his jeans. Cut it the fuck out now

Another. Fucking. Picture. Comes through.

This time you’re completely stripped, tits visible with soft pink peaks, and a hand strategically covering your cunt.

Make me, H.

It clicks what game you’re playing. You rarely sent anything risqué when you where together because you had each other physically.

Harry curses under his breathe, locking his phone and pushing back his chair a little too fast - excusing himself to the loo.

As soon as he clicks the lock on the single-person restroom, he’s pressing on your contact information and you pick up on the very first ring.

“You bloody brat, I’m out at dinner,” Harry hisses at you, giving himself a rough squeeze through his tighten trousers.

All he hears back is a breathy moan. He’d know that sound anywhere - you’re touching yourself.

“What the fuck are you playin’ at?” Your husband demands, but the clipped edge in his tone tells you how much it’s affecting him.

“Just a little payback, babe...for spilling our dirty secrets,” you hum innocently, deciding to send him another picture.

It’s a simple photo without context some might not even understand. It’s just your hand but your fingers glistening with your arousal.

Harry’s hand is about to crush is phone into bits as his eyes roam the picture. He was nearly panting, already able to imagine the taste and smell.

He takes a deep breath before he threatens you, “if you don’t pull your desperate little self together right now- I’m not going anywhere near that needy cunt and I’ll make you spend all night choking on me.”

Instead of the typical, sad whimpers he expects to hear - he receives a patronizing, high-pitched giggle.

“That’s not how it’s going to work tonight, H,” you inform him in a matter-of-fact manner before continuing, “we’re playing by my rules.”

Your husband laughs in disbelief, echoing against the bleak bathroom walls, “and what those rules, sweetheart?”

“You’re going to go sit through your nice little dinner, rockstar. And I’m going to send you pictures, maybe some videos to watch to keep you entertained. If you don’t open them within three minutes each time and reply - you’re not coming tonight. The couch will have a blanket and pillow ready for you.”

If he was in charge, he’d laugh and remind you that you two have three lovely guest rooms he could choose from. But he doesn’t want to push it.

“Fuck,” Harry spits, having to cram his hand into his jeans to adjust himself so he doesn’t look like a pervert when he goes back out.

But he was so fucking game.

He’d do anything you wanted from him - no matter if he could embarrass himself in front of business partners or fans. He was besotted, whipped, whatever you wanted to call him.

“Are you going to be good for me, baby?” You coo tauntingly, from the other end of the line. Basking in his little huffs of air and the agitated lift in his voice.

“Yeah, m’gonna be good,” he murmurs gruffly, his demeanor had changed now that he wasn’t in charge any longer - always willing to let you be dominant when you wanted to be.

It wasn’t often - but when you did, Harry would fall into a nice, fuzzy headspace of compliance and submission. He always wanted to please and this amplified all of his desires.

“Best husband I could ask for, you know?” You reward, knowing that the games are just getting started and you wanted to make this last.

“I love you s’much,” Harry automatically returns, with deep devotion and honesty. His voice as sweet as maple syrup.

“Are you hard, H?”

He grips himself, like he’d just remember, “m’really fucking hard for you.”

“Snap an picture for me, pull yourself together, and then go back to your table - don’t forget the rules.”

“Yes ba-“

Then you end the call while he’s talking.

Harry’s a little shaky as he swipes onto his camera. He grips the thick outline of his cock, rings glinting in the dull lights, and takes a picture.

He hopes it’s good enough and quickly sends it before splashes some cold water on his face and thinking of anything but his naked wife laying at home in their bed - wet and horny.

Jeff gives him a side-eye when he sits back down, casually throwing a napkin over his lap because he can’t help the semi that refuses to go down all together.

“You alright?” His manager asks him, the others still in the throws of tour venues and vendors discussions.

Harry nods, lying easily “the missus couldn’t find her phone charger - thought I nipped it.”

“You do love to steal those,” his friends agrees before cutting off one of them men to suggest three days at Madison Square Garden instead of two.

Harry’s clutching his phone like a lifeline, anticipating the indicative text vibrations that let him know you’ve sent something.

However, despite how many times he checks, fifteen minutes pass and still nothing has sent from you. He almost starts to worry if you’re okay.

But just like the sneaky little thing you are, you wanted to give him enough time to calm down and relax before rilining him up again.

When it finally alerts him, he’s unlocking his phone and opening the message thread as fast as possible.

The picture makes his jaw almost drop on the fucking carpeted floor. You’re in one the large closets in your home- the one that holds all of his Gucci suits in particular.

There is a massive floor to ceiling mirror in this room that you’re standing in front of. You’ve slid on one of his custom silk Gucci button-ups that has styles embroidered on the breast pocket without doing doing up any of the buttons.

He’s an absolutely goner for you in anything that makes you look like his property - the large engagement ring and wedding band on your left ring-finger satiates that feeling quite well.

It takes he a moment before he realizes what else you’re wearing. Your fucking collar. It sat tight around your neck, the expensive leather biting into your skin.

Your one hand was holding the phone and the other had a hand teasing at one of your hardened nipples through the silk fabric of the shirt.

He keeps his phone in his lap with a dim light setting so nobody can risk a chance at seeing such explicits pictures of what’s his.

You look so good with my name on you, baby. Please, want to see you in just the collar, take off the shirt.

Harry fumbles along with the conversation, that’s revolving all around him, “Yeah, I loved Argentina. Definitely want to got there again.”

Buzz.

How’d you already forget I’m in charge? Maybe I’ll just go to bed if you’re not going to follow instructions.

As punishment - if you can really call it that - in the next image you don’t have the collar on any longer and you’ve done up a few buttons on the silk shirt.

Harry feels panicked at the thought of you stopping. He was in a nice, soft headspace clinging onto anything you were willing to give him - desperate to make you happy.

I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be good for you. You’re so fucking sexy. I can basically taste you on my tongue.

“Harry?” Jeff draws him out of his haze. He’s looking at him expectantly, eyebrow quirked, and a martini in his hand.

“What did you say?” Harry asks, eyes itching to dart back down to the screen of his mobile.

“Would you want Kacey to open for you again in North America?” Jeff repeats with annoyance.

“Oh, uh-yeah, that’d be great,” he tells them without really think about it.

He should be paying attention to this pretty important meeting but he can’t when he gets another alert.

The video is back in the bedroom, your delicate fingers sliding down your torso with the button-up pooled around your ribs.

Your hand slowly, at a near crawl- traces down with the camera until the manicured tips of your fingers are at your mound.

Harry’s stomach is tensing in excitement as he watches your fingers dip into the part in your slick, swollen folds.

He has to bite back a groan when the video cuts off and he reads the text below the attachment.

Was this the pussy you enjoyed eating so much you won a Grammy writing about? Was Howard right in his interview?

If Harry was in charge, he would have delivered a few resounding smacks to your arse for how cocky you were being - despite it being the absolute truth.

Did he write and win a Grammy based on a song about how much he loved eating his wife out? Sure fucking did.

Baby love. Yeah, wrote it about you. Write all my songs about how much I love you and your body. Everything is yours.

Harry is so good when he’s subby - is the thing.

Harry was a sappy sod anyways, always ready to tell you how much he loved you and thousand of other sweet things. This just amplified all of his warm, fuzzy emotions.

Send me a picture of your left hand

He hesitates for a moment, still nodding along to the ebb and flow of the business talk but having no actual idea what they’re talking about.

Harry places his large, wide hand flat on the table in front of him. He knew why you wanted his left hand - you were just as possessive as him.

You want to see his long, slim fingers that feel so good inside of you. You want to see the glimmer of his wedding band as well as the tattoo of your name on the outer curve of his hand.

He doesn’t think to turn off his flash. It ends up going off in the dimly lit restaurant and blinding the table, reflecting off the silver flatware.

He looks like a complete knob - taking a picture of his hand but also something weird Harry may do anyways and upload to his Instagram.

The men blink a few times and look at him with a confused expression. Jeff jabs him roughly in the side.

“Uh, snapchat streak,” he mumbles, tucking his phone back into his lap and sending it.

You were cutting it close, babe. 2 minutes, I don’t like waiting. But fuck, who’s name is that on your hand, who’s that ring for?

You, you baby. All of its for you, promise. I belong to you, only you for the rest of my life.

The response is quick.

But...you have girls falling at your feet, lining up to blow you.

A direct quote for the interview today. Brat - she knew how he hated when people assumed or talked like he had no self control or morals.

Only want your mouth, your cunt, your tits. So bloody gone for you, baby. Please send me another video.

He really shouldn’t be egging you on.

Your being greedy but you’ve been following the rules so I’ll allow it.

The video does not disappoint. You’re hand is nestled down between your thighs, pinching at your puffy, stimulated bud. Just the amount of pain you like. It’s a short clip but it has him wriggling in his seat.

He watches it again but before he can finish it - Jeff is snatching his phone out of his shaky hands and tucking it into his own pants pocket.

The manager’s obviously sick of the lack of focus and honestly, how disrespectful Harry’s being which is something he usual never is.

“Pay attention,” he whispers with a sharp, irritated tone before clapping Harry on the back to play off the scolding to the group.

Harry feels a knot form in his stomach as his phone sits stagnant in his friends pocket. His wife sitting, impatiently waiting for his response that she’s not going to get.

He watches his vintage wristwatch as fifteen minutes pass, he hears a few buzzes from his phone that go unattended.

Harry’s not fuzzy anymore - well not in a good way. He has anxiety bubbling in his tummy and his semi had finally disappeared from nerves of disappointing you.

He decides to engage in the conversation to keep his mind off of what is waiting for him at home. He craved to look at those images and videos again. To have it in real life.

It had been three hours since he responded. The people at the table insisting on dessert and alcoholic coffees despite Harry saying he was exhausted from a long day of promo.

At the end of dinner, Harry would love to lie and say he’s recovered from his shakiness but he hadn’t.

After shaking the hands of the record label men, he walks to his car with Jeff. He gets a nice talking to before his phone is being placed back into his hand and he’s sliding into his obnoxious vintage Ferrari.

He takes a deep breathe before he unlocks his phone. The buzzes he heard where not all from you. A few from Twitter, his mum, Niall. There was only one from you.

Game Over. You lose.

—

Thank you for reading💕🥺

#harry styles #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles writing #harrystylesfanfic #fanpic harry #fic rec #husband harry styles #Harry styles shut #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles prompt

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 10

A/N: y’all ever think about that one empires episode of pearl’s where she helps sausage fight off a raid and that turns into a pvp battle between them, and she absolutely destroys him? yeah me too. also check out this awesome art by @amostfoolishgold! anyway back to jimmy pov!

Warnings: injury, unconsciousness, fevers, talk of death, violence, corruption/infection, self-blame

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

The sun was nearing the horizon, casting the Overgrown in a golden glow. The castle was beginning to take shape, but they had unfortunately run low on materials, and Joel and Lizzie weren’t back from their gathering trip yet. So for the moment, they all just sat in the half-constructed shell of a castle, having light conversation as they waited for Joel and Lizzie to arrive. But soon enough, the conversation dwindled into an awkward silence. That is, until Gem stood up with a determined look in her eyes and a gentle smile.

“Why don’t we head to my empire for dinner? We’ve been working hard all day and could use a break!” she said brightly. Jimmy wasn’t sure how he felt about Gem quite yet, after everything that had happened- but she and Pearl had been a huge help. Meanwhile Shelby looked intrigued by the offer, and while Katherine first nervously glanced to the horizon, she looked back to Gem with a smile.

“That is very kind of you, Gem. I’d love to- we should probably just leave a note for Joel and Lizzie to let them know where we’ve gone,” Katherine said, standing up as well. Gem looked to Jimmy semi-nervously- and well, Jimmy was always a bit of a softie, wasn’t he? He smiled at Gem and stood up too.

“That does sound nice, thank you for inviting us,” Jimmy said. Gem beamed, and Pearl looked relieved as she stood up next to Gem.

“Well, you definitely won’t see me complaining about free food!” Shelby chimed in, hopping up to her feet. That caused the group to break into laughter, and the air between them felt comfortable again.

Once Katherine had written the note and put it where Lizzie and Joel could easily find it, the five of them (minus Pearl, who had wings) equipped their elytra and flew off to the Crystal Cliffs. When they first arrived there, everything seemed normal. The grand cliffs themselves, the buildings nestled in and around them, the towers- it was a beautiful and mystical place. But there was something blue, white, and gold that stood out in a heap on the ground near one of the buildings- a very familiar something blue, white and gold.

“Oh my god-” Gem started, landing on the ground beside the figure.

“Is that-” Pearl said, unable to finish the thought as she landed just behind Gem.

“Scott?” Jimmy finished, voice shaking as he came in for a bit of an unsteady landing a few feet away from where Scott laid on the ground, breathing shallow and upon a closer look, something red pulsing and spreading beneath his skin like some sort of vine. Jimmy barely registered Katherine and Shelby landing on either side of him, too focused on what was before him.

“This- this red stuff reminds me of the redstone spikes in Fwhip’s empire- or maybe something from the nether?” Gem pondered as she knelt beside Scott, a purple glow coming over her hand as she reached out towards the infection in his arm.

“I’ve seen that before,” Shelby said, voice sounding distant and laced with horror. Everyone turned to look at her, surprised to hear such a terrified tone of voice from the usually enthusiastic gnome.

“The infection?” Pearl asked.

“The corruption. I’ve seen it happen to my people back home, until it consumed them until there was nothing left- it’s why I came here, to try and find a cure or some way to stop it. But nothing worked,” Shelby explained shakily, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. Jimmy felt like he was going to cry too- and some awful part of himself thought that he should be glad that this happened to Scott, that it served him right after betraying Jimmy and breaking his heart- but he couldn’t. Despite everything Scott had done, despite never wanting to see Scott again- none of that meant that Jimmy didn’t want a world where the winged elf wasn’t in it. And what about what Pearl had said? Scott didn’t seem happy with Fwhip either, but now Jimmy would never know the truth. Not if it died with Scott.

Jimmy was so wrapped up in his conflicted mess of emotions that he didn’t even notice that someone else had flown in until Katherine let out a sharp gasp. He tore his gaze away from Scott to see what had caused that reaction from Katherine- and saw Fwhip. A mix of anger and terror boiled in his veins and swirled in his stomach at the sight of him. Fwhip looked baffled to see so many people in Gem’s empire, and plastered on a forced friendly smile. Jimmy’s hand found Katherine’s, and she squeezed it back tightly with no intention of letting go.

“Gem! Hi, so I wanted to smooth things over- I think we left things on a bad note-”

“What did you do to Scott,” Gem demanded, cutting off Fwhip as she stood up from beside Scott. Purple sparks danced in the air around her, and Jimmy swallowed nervously- he didn’t think he had ever seen Gem seem so intimidating before. Jimmy was relieved to see that Fwhip looked nervous too.

“Well, I haven’t seen Scott since our meeting, he seemed upset when he left- weird that he ended up here- y’know I was actually gonna go and talk to him after you-”

“If by talk, you mean do whatever you did to Scott to us?!” Pearl demanded, hand on the hilt of her sword as she took a step forward to stand beside Gem.

“I didn’t-”

“I’ve had enough of your lies, Fwhip. What. Did. You. Do,” Gem said evenly. Fwhip swallowed nervously, before sighing and finally giving in.

“Okay, so I may have set a few traps in his empire and got Sausage to help me with letting a raid infiltrate his village and the surrounding lands- but I figured Scott could handle a few traps and some mobs, it was only meant to be a warning, I never meant to kill him! He must have really gotten soft if he couldn’t deal with it,” Fwhip rambled. Gem and Pearl seemed semi-satisfied with his answer, but Pearl kept her hand on her sword and purple sparks still danced around Gem. But there was something that Fwhip said that bothered Jimmy, and along with what Pearl had said… guilt was beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you mean by that?” Jimmy asked tentatively. Fwhip let out a harsh laugh, turning to Jimmy incredulously.

“The idiot actually fell for you. He was just supposed to be a distraction, a contingency plan to make sure you wouldn’t be trouble. But he got in too deep, and look where that got him,” Fwhip scoffed, looking down at Scott’s deathly still form in disdain. Guilt was crashing on Jimmy in waves now. He had pushed Scott away. Scott had actually cared about him and he pushed him away. And then he had no one to go to for help when Fwhip decided to send a “warning” and got hurt as a result.

“You’re lucky I’m a pacifist,” Katherine spat, more angry than Jimmy had ever heard her. He wished he could have shared her anger, shouted at Fwhip too- but Jimmy just felt numb.

“Well unluckily for Fwhip, I don’t have that problem,” Pearl fumed, drawing her sword. Fwhip started to scramble back as Pearl leapt at him. His backwards stumble turned into a run, and Pearl kept pace with him just fine, using her wings if necessary and brandishing her sword to chase him away.

“Pearl can handle him- can you three help me get Scott to the apothecary? I’d do it by myself, but he’s tall and there’s the bulk of his wings to worry about too,” Gem asked, looking down at Scott worriedly.

“Erm- right, of course,” Jimmy said, letting go of Katherine’s hand to join Gem at Scott’s side.

“Hold on- go to the other side and help me turn him over,” Gem said. Jimmy did as she asked, and being mindful of his wings, the two of them gently rolled Scott over so he was on his back. Scott was feverish to the touch, and even unconscious his expression was contorted with pain.

“He’s hot,” Jimmy said, distant horror in his tone.

“Now isn’t the time for that, Jimmy,” Gem teased, trying to lessen the tension in the air. Jimmy’s face scrunched up in irritation as he half-heartedly glared at her.

“He has a fever, Gem,” Jimmy huffed. Gem laughed nervously.

“I know, I know, just trying to make this less terrible than it is,” Gem sighed. Jimmy gave her a weak smile, and together the two of them gently lifted Scott up. Jimmy ended up mostly holding Scott, while Gem supported his wings. Scott’s head lolled against his shoulder, labored breaths fanning his neck. Jimmy should have felt embarrassed or flustered, cradling Scott like this- but he was too concerned with how limp and unresponsive Scott felt in his arms.

“I’ll get the doors for you!” Shelby offered, quickly making her way over to the apothecary door. Katherine hovered around Jimmy and Gem semi-anxiously, making sure that they had a good hold on Scott as they made their way over to the apothecary. But all went well, and they were able to safely transport Scott into one of the apothecary beds. He had begun to shiver and tremble every so often now, and Jimmy could have sworn the corruption had spread, reaching his fingertips.

“There’s gotta be a way to stop that, or at least slow it down,” Gem murmured in thought, pulling up a chair to sit at Scott’s side. She reached out to the cut where the corruption on Scott’s arm stemmed from, hand glowing purple again. She closed her hand over it, and her eyes began to glow the same purple as her hand. But then the glow flickered, turning red for a moment before it dissipated entirely and Gem drew her hand back with a yelp, stumbling backwards out of her seat beside Scott’s bed. Jimmy scrambled over to help her up, eyes darting nervously between her and Scott.

“Is everything alright? I chased Fwhip off, but I swear if he’s done something in here…” Pearl trailed off as she walked into the apothecary, eyes zeroing on Gem as she rubbed at her temples.

“I’m fine. The corruption- it fought back. It’s… alive, somehow,” Gem said with morbid curiosity in her tone.

“It’s a type of fungus. That’s as much as my people could figure out before I came here to try and find a cure. The red stuff is everywhere in my old home- even if you tried to get rid of it, it would just come back. And in the cases where it latched onto a person… there was no getting it out,” Shelby explained, sounding like she was going to cry. Gem hummed thoughtfully.

“Did you try any sort of magic with it?” she asked.

“No, my people were not magic-users- in fact I’d hardly seen magic before I came here, where the air seems charged with the stuff,” Shelby replied, gesturing around her. A determined expression came over Gem’s face.

“Then I’m not gonna stop trying. I don’t know if I can fully fight off the corruption, but I definitely think I can slow its spread. In the meantime, we’re gonna need to get Scott’s fever down- at this rate, that’ll kill him before the corruption will,” Gem said, resting the back of her hand on Scott’s forehead and frowning.

“He’s probably a little beat-up too- Fwhip did say he trapped his empire,” Katherine added. Gem nodded in agreement.

“We’ll need cool water and cloth to make a compress for his forehead- and I should have some healing potions around here- it couldn’t hurt to brew some more though too, just in case,” Gem rambled, starting to stand up before Pearl put up a hand.

“You two stay here with Scott, I know where you keep things around here. Katherine, Shelby and I can worry about getting things for you,” she soothed. Jimmy tilted his head in confusion.

“Wait, I can help get things too…” Jimmy trailed off uncertainly.

“You can help if you want. I just figured you’d wanna stick by Scott,” Pearl shrugged with a gentle smile. Jimmy flushed slightly as he looked down at the floor, away from Pearl’s knowing stare.

“I… yeah. I’ll stick by Scott,” he said softly, gaze shifting to look at the winged elf who always managed to make his emotions into a muddled mess. Scott was an enemy, a friend, a- a something, then an enemy again- but whatever Scott was to Jimmy now, he knew one thing: he wasn’t letting Scott out of his sight again. Doing so the last time caused this to happen. He had to be there if- no, when Scott woke up. He had to apologize for pushing him away, and hope that maybe Scott still cared about him after everything that had happened to accept it.

Taglists below! Let me know if you want to be added/removed!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @beepa99 @devilwoodkitty18 @riobug

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #shubble #katherine elizabeth #fwhip #flower husbands #aiahs #mcyt #sage writes

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thebonerpit · 3 years

Text

cheerleader [FIC]

cheerleader

Rom Howney, 3896 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

A very seasonally appropriate fic in which Robert throws a Halloween party. Tom hates Halloween but decides to wear a costume he's wanted to try for years.

“I just don’t understand it.”

Tom frowns as he stares at the racks upon racks of zombies, clowns, vampires, and sexy nurses in front of him.

“I mean, to be fair, you don’t understand much of anything, do you mate?”

“Fuck off,” Tom says, whacking Harrison on the arm. “But seriously! Why do Americans go so absolutely mental for this stupid holiday?”

“Again, having trouble with the fact that you, an actor, who plays dress-up FOR A LIVING, doesn’t understand this. It’s not like this is any weirder than a fancy dress party. Plus, you get candy!”

Ok, he does have a point there.

Tom lets out a deep sigh. He wouldn’t even be bothering with all this if it weren’t for Robert. An invitation appeared in his inbox last week for a Halloween party, and when you’re invited to a Halloween party at Robert Downey Jr.’s house, you don’t turn it down. Even if Halloween is incredibly stupid. He shuffles along through the rows of costumes, rolling his eyes at werewolf masks and inflatable dinosaurs.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. Harrison groans, his hands already full of the various parts of a Mad Hatter costume.

“Just pick something, who cares?!”

“There’s too many options!”

“Ok, look. Halloween is the chance to dress any way you want to and have no one judge you for it. Just think about that. What have you always wanted to be?”

Tom immediately knows what the answer is, but instead of replying he just huffs and turns down another aisle that’s covered in fairy wings and glitter. He can’t possibly do it. Especially not for this party. For Robert’s party. It would be… inappropriate. He rounds the corner again and is faced with a shockingly huge assortment of superhero costumes. A foam version of Thor’s hammer sits on the shelf to his right, and he smirks as he picks it up and gives it a good twirl.

“In your face, Hemsworth,” he mutters quietly.

There’s a whole row of different Spider-Man costumes which makes him smile, especially when he sees a flimsy synthetic fabric version of the Iron Spider suit. And right next to that – a placement that thrills him even more than the suit alone - are the Iron Man costumes. Plastic faceplates, arc reactor gloves with LED lights, fabric onesies with fake, puffy muscles sewn in… it’s all there. Tom runs a finger along the edge of the faceplate before snatching his hand away like he’s been burned.

It’s all he can think about, even as they leave the store after Harrison buys his costume and Tom walks out empty-handed. He thinks about it on the ride home and through dinner until he finally makes excuses and runs off to hide in his room, laptop in hand, and puts on Iron Man 2. It doesn’t take long to get to the scene he wants. Tony Stark, diving through fireworks, landing on a flashy stage, surrounded by his Ironettes. Tom bites his lip as he stares intently at the bright red booty shorts, the long gloves, the crop tops… maybe, if he altered it just a bit, if he wore the mask… He can already feel his face heating up at the prospect of walking into Robert’s house dressed like that. Would he laugh? Would he be weirded out? Or… would he like it? Tom pushes the laptop off to the side and lets the movie play as he touches himself, coming to the sound of Robert’s voice in his headphones.

* * * * *

Tom is going to throw up. It’s inevitable, at this point. He’s in the back of a car squished between Harry and Harrison and he’s going to throw up. His stomach is in knots and he can’t remember ever being this nervous in his life. He’s used to the fluttering before a big stage performance or audition, but those nerves are more like excitement. This is sheer terror and he is going to THROW UP.

“Can you calm down? Jesus, you’re going to ruin my costume if you don’t stop squirming!” Harrison jabs a sharp elbow into his side and Tom jerks away into Harry who pushes him back.

“I just… I need some air.”

“The windows are all open! Take the mask off!”

That is the absolute last thing he wants to do. He was only able to leave the house in this costume with the mask securely over his face and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to take it off. He must be red as a tomato.

“Look, we’re here!” Harry crows. The car finally comes to a stop and they all pile out. Tom wants to collapse on the soft grass but he’s pulled along by four strong hands.

“Maybe I should… Look, I’ll just wait out here for a bit, ok? I just need—”

“Nope, absolutely not. Look mate, we already told you, he’s going to love it. Maybe not in the way you want him to-“ Tom punches Harry in the arm for that “-BUT, regardless, he’ll love it. You look great. And this is coming from someone who never turns down an opportunity to tell you you’re an ugly twat.”

“That was… almost sweet,” Tom says, and then yelps as they both drag him inside.

The party is in full swing and is absolutely packed with people. Small groups are standing around chatting, all in costume, and a live band is playing in the huge backyard to a crowded dancefloor. Tom recognizes only a few people – it’s hard to miss Scarlett even when she’s dressed like Morticia Addams – but that doesn’t bother him. Normally he loves mingling and meeting new people, and even dressed as he is it’s still exciting. It’s even easier after he quickly downs a few strong drinks, careful to only pull up the mask as far as it needs to go. The urge to vomit has pretty much dissipated and he’s actually beginning to enjoy himself, twirling around the dancefloor like a maniac until he’s slightly sweaty and out of breath.

“Water break!” he yells to Harry and squeezes through the crowd of people to get some air and hydrate. He finds a relatively quiet corner where he can chug half a water bottle in peace and is enjoying the cool air on his skin when someone taps him on the shoulder. He startles and nearly drops the bottle but manages to save it before turning around.

“Nice catch.”

Oh fuck. It’s him. It’s Robert. He hasn’t seen him the whole evening and assumed he was off being a good host so the whole thing almost slipped his mind, but now it’s all rushing back and he has to grip on to the fence post beside him to steady himself.

“Love the costume. Not exactly how I remember the Ironettes looking but I gotta say, this might be an improvement.”

Tom nearly chokes. He decided he couldn’t pull off the real Ironette costume as the distinct lack of breasts made it look a little awkward. So, he improvised. The shiny red and gold booty shorts stayed, of course. They made his ass look incredible. He bought the long red and gold arc reactor gloves and the plastic faceplate from the Halloween store, and instead of heeled boots he found a pair of gold high-tops and knee-high red socks. The shirt was the most difficult part, though. He went through a few variations before settling on something cute and comfortable: a red, cropped tank top. It was a bit loose and thin, so it flowed around his chest nicely and was short enough to show off his abs and his tiny waist. He also managed to find an LED necklace to serve as his arc reactor. It glowed a soft blue through the thin fabric of the shirt. Overall, he’s incredibly proud of what he came up with. Especially for someone who hates Halloween.

And now, with the way Robert is staring at him, he’s VERY happy he was brave enough to wear it.

“Is there someone under that gorgeous mask? Or are you too shy to say hello?”

Tom steels himself, takes a deep breath, and pulls the mask off.

Robert’s face goes through a myriad of emotions almost all at once. Shock, delight, amusement, and what is unmistakably arousal.

“Well. Tom Holland. As I live and breathe.” His voice is lower than before, more intimate, and when he takes a step forward Tom swears he feels the temperature go up by at least two degrees. He also notices that Robert is wearing eyeliner. The black kohl makes his eyes look even more gorgeous, and then there’s the red glitter dusted across his cheeks and around his hairline that is giving him an almost eerie glow.

“What are you supposed to be, then?” Tom asks. Robert smirks and points to the two small horns sticking out from his hair.

“The Devil, of course.”

“Of course,” Tom repeats weakly. It was barely a costume, the deep maroon suit looking more like red carpet attire than anything else, but fuck it looked incredible on him.

“I am the purveyor of sin on this fine evening,” he says, gesturing to the party, “so I thought I’d play the part. But you… you look far more sinful than me.”

Tom squeaks as Robert steps even closer and taps at the arc reactor on his chest.

“Cute,” he murmurs.

“Just… just wanted to show you how much of a fan I am… Mr. Stark.”

Robert’s eyes snap up to Tom’s and he doesn’t think he’s ever been looked at so intensely in his entire life.

“Is that so… Mr. Parker?”

Tom whines, loud enough for Robert to hear it. His hand travels down Tom’s body to squeeze at the bare skin of his waist.

“I think—”

“Robert!!”

They both jerk back as if they’re waking up from a trance. Someone is yelling for Robert and waving him inside, and he acknowledges them with a quick gesture. Turning back to Tom, he licks his lips and leans in to whisper in his ear.

“I think we’ll have to continue this later. Don’t leave without saying goodnight. Alright?”

“Yeah. Yes. O-ok. See you later,” Tom stutters, and when Robert disappears inside he chugs the rest of the water bottle and collapses back against the fence to catch his breath.

* * * * *

All the telltale signs of a party winding down are there. Most people have left, the band has stopped playing leaving only some low background music emanating from the speakers around the house, and the guests that remain are splayed out on various couches and chairs, half their costumes missing and happily drunk. The kitchen is a disaster and Tom feels bad adding more bottles to the mess, but he’s on a mission and can’t stop to tidy. After his run-in with Robert he only saw him briefly a few more times, mostly through a massive crowd, but he didn’t forget his words from earlier.

Don’t leave without saying goodnight.

Harrison and Harry have already gone home. They tried to get him to come with but Tom pretended to be enthralled in a conversation and told them he’d catch up in a bit. Now he’s wandering the massive house, peeking into various rooms as he looks for Robert. He gave up on wearing the mask after they met in the yard so it’s pushed up on his head like some sort of strange visor, his curls a sweaty mess beneath it. The second floor is quiet and empty; no one really came up here during the party anyway so it’s also much cleaner. A set of closed double doors is in front of him, and it’s the only place he hasn’t looked, so…

Tom slowly opens one door and pokes his head inside. Robert is lounging on a massive bed, scrolling on an iPad, glasses perched on his nose. He’s still got the horns on his head, and when he glances up over the rim of his glasses to smirk at Tom, he really does look positively devilish.

“Found you,” Tom says, trying to appear completely casual when his heart feels like it’s about to explode from under his ribcage.

“So you did. Come in. Close the door.”

Robert makes no effort to move so Tom slowly walks over to the bed, suddenly very conscious of how tight his shorts are as Robert unabashedly roams over his body with hungry eyes. He stops at the edge and toes at the plush carpet with one foot.

“Have you been drinking?”

Tom nods.

“How much?”

“Not that much,” Tom replies, understanding what Robert is trying to ask. “But maybe just enough to give me some liquid courage.”

Robert raises an eyebrow but waits patiently for Tom to make the first move, only shifting slightly to drop the iPad and his glasses on the nightstand. Guess it’s now or never.

He kneels on the edge of the bed with one leg first, testing the waters. Robert stays perfectly still. A deep inhale to steady himself and then Tom goes for it, pushing up on the bed and straddling Robert’s lap. He hesitates for only a moment before settling right on the seam of those expensive maroon trousers.

A pleased hum rumbles out of Robert’s chest as he runs two smooth, warm hands up Tom’s spread thighs to his waist.

“My own personal cheerleader, hm? I always knew you looked up to me but I never expected this… Pete.”

He catches Tom’s eye and gives him a brief wink. Tom’s heart speeds up even more as excitement bubbles in his stomach. Playing. Robert is playing with him. He was desperately hoping he wouldn’t drop this, leave it as the brief tease it was back in the yard. Acting with Robert is one of his favourite things in the entire world, and being able to do it like this? God, for the first time he’s actually happy that Tony Stark is dead because he’s never going to be able to act across from him again without thinking of this moment.

Robert nuzzles into his neck and starts leaving wet, sucking kisses all along the line of his throat. Tom shivers at the sensation and then starts to giggle when the tickle of Robert’s beard is too much against his sensitive skin. Robert laughs into his neck and nips playfully.

“You’re so darn cute,” he whispers. Robert has always been free with his compliments, telling Tom he’s handsome or pretty or talented, but somehow it just hits different when his hands are also squeezing Tom’s ass.

“Want to touch you, Mr. Stark,” Tom murmurs into his ear, easily switching his accent to sound even more like Peter. He feels Robert shudder underneath him and can’t help the pleased smirk that crosses his face.

“Yeah?” Robert says, grasping his chin gently so he can look into his eyes. “Do you even know what you’re doing, sweetheart?”

Tom absolutely knows what he’s doing, but Peter…

“I… uh… I was hoping you could teach me. I’m a really quick learner, sir,” he says softly.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Robert mutters, breaking character for a moment. He collects himself quickly though, shifting Tom in his lap just enough so he can undo his trousers and pull himself out. Tom’s mouth literally waters at the sight of Robert’s dick and he uses every ounce of willpower not to just pounce on him immediately.

“Want to feel your mouth, Pete,” Robert says, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s lower lip. “You can go slow. Use your tongue.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Tom replies, trying not to sound too eager. He shuffles down a little and purposely sticks his ass up in the air. The red and gold shimmer on the shorts catches the dim light and he gives his hips a quick wiggle when he sees Robert staring.

“Maybe I should’ve reworked the design on your suit, hm? You like wearing little shorts like this?”

Tom nods and presses his face into the curls at the base of Robert’s dick, inhaling the scent of him. He feels the thick cock jerk against his cheek and angles his head to lick up the whole length of it, swirling his tongue at the tip. The bitter taste of precome blooms in his mouth and he moans, forgetting himself for a moment as he starts to give a much more experienced blowjob than what Peter would be capable of. Robert knocks the mask off Tom’s head so he can tighten his hand in his messy curls.

“Jesus,” Robert groans, “you’re good at this, kid.”

“Mmm, just want to make you feel good, sir,” Tom hums. He manages to remove one of the arc reactor gloves so he can grip Robert’s cock while he uses his mouth everywhere he can reach.

“Well, you’re doing a—fuck, god—a damn fine job.”

Tom thinks he could stay here forever, on his knees, mouth stretched almost painfully around Robert’s cock. He explores up his chest with his other hand, rubbing at one nipple with his thumb which makes Robert jerk underneath him.

“Keep doing that,” Robert spits out as he pushes Tom’s head down even further. He gags a bit but the incredible sensation of being stuffed and used overrides everything else and he takes every inch Robert gives him while tugging and pinching at his apparently very sensitive nipples. He drifts for a bit, so content and fuzzy, and only comes back when Robert pulls him off and throws him down on the bed.

“Pull up that shirt for me, sweetheart. Gonna paint your pretty chest with my come.”

“Oh my god, fuck, yes, please, please, want it,” Tom moans, shoving the fabric out of the way as Robert jerks himself off quickly above him. He can’t decide whether to watch his dick or his face when he finally comes, thick and white all over his chest and the arc reactor necklace. Robert’s slightly red in the face and gasping for breath as he steadies himself with a hand beside Tom’s head. Tom leans to the side to kiss at his knuckles and then dares to run his fingers through the come on the necklace and bring it to his mouth to taste.

“You’re going to give an old man a heart attack,” Robert says. His pupils are all blown out as he watches Tom hollow his cheeks as he sucks. Tom understands the feeling. He’s so hard in his shorts that it’s painful.

“Please,” he whispers, biting his lip, “will you touch me, Mr. Stark?”

“It would be a pleasure, Mr. Parker,” he replies. He palms him over the shorts which makes Tom buck into his hand. “As much as I love these… they have to go.”

The shorts are so tight that they both struggle to pull them down but finally they’re tossed off to a distant corner of the bedroom and Tom hisses as Robert immediately get his mouth on his cock. It feels absolutely heavenly, especially after being trapped in the confines of that uncomfortable fabric for so long. Robert takes his time, licks and sucks everywhere he can, all the way down to that sensitive spot right behind his balls. Tom whimpers as his tongue gets so fucking close to his hole but then pulls away.

“Want to use my fingers… s’that ok?”

“Y-yeah, please, yes!”

Robert grabs some lube from the nightstand and even warms it first before sliding one thick finger over Tom’s hole, pressing just the tip inside. Aside from the thrill of having Robert’s finger inside of him, the most incredible part is that he doesn’t stop sucking him off. The level of coordination is astounding and Tom would have complimented him on it if he was able to speak beyond moans and pleas for more. A second finger quickly joins the first and Tom’s body accepts it without hesitation.

“Good boy,” Robert murmurs in between gentle licks, “look at you, hm? So pretty and pink.”

Robert shifts him down a bit more which makes his legs fall open even wider. He feels so exposed and whines a little, trying to draw his knees close without squeezing Robert too much.

“Aw, don’t be shy sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” Robert says. “You can put your legs up on me if that helps, ok?”

He hears the rubber of his high-tops squeak against Robert’s skin and somehow the sound is more obscene than anything else. He tries not to thump his heels too hard but fuck, Robert is doing something with his tongue that should be illegal and Tom can’t stop squirming. A low chuckle reverberates against his stomach as Robert pulls off briefly, his fingers still working in slow, gentle pushes.

“Aren’t you sensitive, hm?”

“P-please, Ro—Mr. Stark, please, need to come,” Tom begs, accent slipping slightly as he tries to shove himself down even deeper on Robert’s thick fingers. He’s held in place by the firm grip of Robert’s other hand on his waist and he whines petulantly.

“Anything for my favourite little spider,” Robert coos. He crooks his fingers and Tom arches up off the bed like he’s been shocked. He feels like he’s been on the edge since they first met in the yard and now Robert’s fingers are pressing right on his prostate and his hot mouth is back on his dick and he doesn’t think he could possibly hold off any longer if he tried.

“Gonna… gonna…” Tom’s whole body is taut, like a wire ready to snap, and when Robert takes him all the way down his throat he comes with a ragged gasp. Distantly he thinks he should be considerate and pull out but it’s like his body isn’t under his control anymore, and even though he hears wet choking noises it seems like Robert is just fine with him coming in his mouth. His fingers have stopped moving and he lets Tom clench around them for a few moments before gently sliding them out. Tom whines at the loss even though he’s so oversensitive right now he couldn’t possibly take anymore.

After taking a minute to catch his breath and regain any semblance of normal brain function, he finally looks down. Robert’s eyeliner is smudged and Tom feels a bizarre sense of pride about it. He can’t stop running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair which is also a complete mess.

“Just FYI,” Robert finally says, his voice a little raspy, “you’re going to be finding red glitter in every nook and cranny for about three years after this.” He punctuates that sentence by rubbing his cheek against Tom’s thigh, grinning as he does it.

“You’re a dick,” Tom says fondly, giggling even more as Robert continues to just rub his face all over his body. “But can’t say I’m gonna care that much if I’m being reminded about this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Robert says, that absolutely devilish grin returning, “I can give you more than just glitter for that.” Tom squeals as he starts sucking a deep bruise into the inside of one thigh, teeth marks and all, that Tom presses on every time he sees it for the next week.

#tbpwrites #rom howney #marvel rpf #nff #please do not expect this kind of consistency from me normally lol #usually it takes months in between fics!#but the fandom has been so lovely and active lately that it's inspired me #maybe i'll write some actual starker at some point and not just rpf

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bakugohoex · 3 years

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“you’re cute when you don’t talk”

pairing: atsumu miya x female reader

cw: fluff, slight spoilers

word count: 2000+

a/n: hi guys, i’ve been reading some mangas and i’m currently reading bj alex and i swear the amount of conflicting feelings i have is unreal, as usual requests are open and questions for me are open just to get to know me

summary: in which you come and see a msby black jackal game and you catch atsumu's eyes on you, at there post match dinner you find out what atsumu really wants from you

↞ back to haikyu!! masterlist

The stadiums cool breeze, the smell of fresh food and drinks, the sound of spikes hitting the floor. And you, yes you, had caught the eyes of a man who happened to be on centre court, setting for the division one MSBY Black Jackal.

A few days prior, you had met up with your childhood friend Bokuto, his hair lacked the spikes either he was lazy, or he had just gone to the gym. “Please come to the game y/n.”

He had been trying to persuade you for the past 30 minutes and with your finger against the rim of your drink cup, you had been shaking your head.

“But why y/n, you always came to the Fukurodani game.”

“Yeah because you would plead with me back in high school as well.”

“Y/n you were always our favourite second year back in my last year, you know how much Akaashi and I loved you and your support.” He pouted with his hair drooping even more, his eyes pleading and how could you say no to that.

“Okay.” You mutter.

That’s how you were seated on the MSBY teams side, you knew a lot about volleyball becoming manager in your last year when it was just you and Akaashi left, but you’d always attended training camps and games to support your favourite team.

To say you were bored was a lie, the game had started Bokuto’s face beaming as he saw you, you eyed everybody, you saw Hinata as he waved frantically, Sakusa who had played against Fukurodani. A blonde-haired boy was next, and his gaze turned to you, he watched his teammates wave at you and his eyesight remained on your form.

He wasn’t naturally blonde you could tell; it was fading and lighter with a bit of toner his hair would look even better. As you continued to watch the game, their fans shouting for not just the team but their setter, he basked in the glory, his sets were perfect the way his body moved to position the ball perfectly. He was amazing as good as Akaashi or even Kageyama, you watched the rest of the team, cheering when they got a point.

You would notice Atsumu’s gaze would fall to you as he served as if he was doing it for you, but you didn’t even know him so why he stared a little longer than what was socially acceptable to stare at someone. It wasn’t like you stared at people for too long especially not at the Sangwoo look alike but the way you admired his ever move would be classes as concerning.

The game was quickly won by Bokuto’s team and he messaged you to meet him outside the changing rooms, probably to hang out afterwards. Maybe even his team would join the two of you, hopefully the blonde would join.

“Y/n, my biggest supporter.” Bokuto hugged you as you hugged back smiling at the tall boy who was crushing you.

“Y/n.” Hinata shouted as he ran and jumped on Bokuto’s back to hug you with him.

You laugh as the two let go of you, “you two were amazing as always.”

Sakusa walked out, he did a double take before recognising you, “you were Fukurodani’s manager weren’t you?”

“I was and you were in the top three aces which Bokuto hates me saying.” You mock the owl haired boy as Sakusa gave a smile, he wore his mask as he saw people start to come up to them.

You finally saw the blond boy come out, water dripping from his forehead probably from a shower, his t-shirt rolled up to his shoulders. He put his hand through his head as he comes up to you and Bokuto. “Care to introduce me Bokkun.”

“Atsumu Miya meet Y/n Y/l/n, she was my best friend back in high school and team manger when I left, I invited her to the game and after party.” Bokuto turns to you, “This is our setter he used to play for Inarizaki High.”

“Nice to meet you.” You put your hand our for him to shake but he moves past your hand to come closer to your body.

“We should get to know each other more.” How did he have so much confidence in front of his team mates? He had to speak if he hadn’t he would’ve been perfect.

“I don’t think you’d be able to handle me.” You mutter back, Bokuto smirking at your comment, you walked past Atsumu as Bokuto wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“It’s just the four of us for the celebrations, Atsumu you have enough room for all five of us right.” The face of disgust Sakusa had at being in a car with four other people made you laugh. It looked like he wanted to kill himself at the close contact.

“Yeah, Y/n can take the passenger seat.” You raised an eyebrow as Bokuto went to Hinata, they were both so energetic. “You never know what can happen in the front.”

His low whisper made you instantly know he was a cocky bitch, “Hurry up you two.” Hinata says.

You all go to his car, you let Sakusa sit at the front, whilst Bokuto and Hinata were talking to some people who had stopped them. You waited against the car glad to have walked to the venue, a group of girls who you had seen sitting behind you at the game were walking up towards the boys, you had heard them be utterly confused by the game and just admiring the players. You couldn’t deny and say you weren’t doing the same, but you had basic knowledge at least of it all.

“Hi Atsumu, could we get a photo with you?” They smile at the boy who smirked back.

“Of course, Y/n be a good girl and take the photo for us.” Your ears turned red as he said the words good girl, why was he doing this to you? He barely knew you and now he was trying to make you flustered.

You walk up to them, “of course, I wouldn’t want your fans to be even more disappointed in meeting you.”

He sucked in a breath as he quickly made them take the photo, making them leave. “Let’s go guys.”

You had been cramped between the broad-shouldered duo, their energy being extreme even after playing a five-set match.

“You’ll love the food here Y/n.” Hinata smiles as you all talk about your training camp and nationals days, you loved catching up, Hinata telling you about what occurred in his last year when you had graduated and Bokuto spoke about his volleyball beginnings. Hinata had gone to Brazil and even met the amazing Oikawa that Kageyama would always vent about.

Finally arriving, you all pile out, Sakusa getting a table as we all sit down, Sakusa on the end to not be next to anybody and his mask remained on, you had been made to sit next to Atsumu his gaze never leaving your fingers, lips and neck.

“Why have you been staring all day?” You finally question after ordering the food.

“Wh..What?” He almost stutters but regains his position as he sips at his water turning his eyesight to yours.

“You’ve been staring for a while, even in the car you’d look at you rear view mirror, I did see y’know.” You say drinking some of the water, you grabbed the closest glass as your throat felt dry.

“Bokuto showed us a picture of you a while back, and he told us you were coming, how can I not look at someone as pretty as you.” His mouth moved closer to your ear as your breath hitches, “and also you just drank my water.”

You let go of the glass putting it back on his side as he moved his head away from your mouth lessening back as he grinned. “Bokuto showed a what of me?”

“A picture, it was months ago he wanted to show us people from Fukurodani, we saw your setter Akaashi as well.”

“Oh lord, it wasn’t one from when I was 17 right?”

“What you didn’t like the thigh highs?” He laughs grabbing the same glass, he brought his lips to the rim of where your mouth had been brushing it against his lips.

“Oh god.” You put your hands on your head, he had to show the one photo of you from when you weren’t even an adult.

“It was fine, you looked pretty, why do you think I was happy Bokuto told us you were coming?”

“You were happy, I don’t understand though you never met me or knew me?” You question as the food gets brought out, you were lucky in that the other three boys were talking among themselves.

Atsumu scratches the back of his head as he thinks over what he should even say, “Ugh well truthfully…”

“Go on.” You start to eat as he tries to find the words.

“I met you at Nationals, we had just lost against Karasuno, you were running around I think Fukurodani had a game, you saw me c…cry” He almost doesn’t want to speak it, “and you comforted me, you never told me your name, but I doubt you recognised me, but I never forgot the pretty girl who helped me, I was vulnerable, and you comforted me and didn’t laugh. You probably don’t remember me I didn’t try to find you I just hoped i’d some how meet you and as soon as I saw that photo from Bokuto I knew we would meet again.”

You were lost for words, you remembered, you remembered running around trying to fill up water bottles and everything before Fukurodani’s game. You had run past a small side section, it was empty, but you heard a sob. Walking through the section you met the boy, his hair was more yellowy orange than the light blonde that he had now, his 17-year-old self was vulnerable, you hadn’t spoke only hugged him. You knew how hard it was to lose in anything and to bring comfort to the boy was something you wanted to do. He hadn’t spoke just cried into your shoulder, you didn’t mind and when you finally saw the time, you gave a smile cupping his cheek, hugging him one last time before running back.

“I remember, you had lost to Karasuno.” You spoke softly, “look at you now one of the top teams in Japan.”

He didn’t look at you concentrating on your food, you both stopped speaking not knowing what to say as awkwardness set, as the night continued you speaking more to Bokuto, Hinata and Sakusa, not meeting Atsumu’s gaze.

You all finished up, the frigid air hitting your exposed arms, the sky filled with white stars a contrast right in your eyes, Sakusa was the first to leave, then Bokuto and Hinata both going together and finally it was just you and Atsumu left.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” Atsumu was about to walk away but you grab his arm.

“I…I…” You couldn’t speak you were cold and just wanted to feel some warmth, he saw you bring your arms to your body, pulling you into his chest, he was the one bringing warmth this time. Your head rested against his chest. It was a new comfort that you hadn’t felt in years, “you’re cute when you don’t talk.”

He smirks his arms wrapped around you even tighter, “you can say I’m attractive without the backhanded comment.”

“Oh, shut up, pass me a pen.” He goes through his pockets finding one as you look up, “I’d put it in your phone but let’s see if you can keep this.”

You take the pen writing your number across the back of his hand, your other hand rested underneath his palm, he felt warmth. He smiled softly before you let go of his hand, “you going to drop me off home then.”

“Come on.” He takes your hand, the long-awaited familiar feeling he felt when he was at his lowest, and even then he was at his happiest, he was reliving your comfort that he knew would never go away.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alaina-rose13 @crispychannie

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years

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@sicktember Prompt # 28: Missing Out

Title: Unforgettable

Fandom: N/A

Based on this post as well as an ask box prompt. The prompt: “I’m currently dying for something set in a big house (any period) and the young master of the house has a party to attend but he feels awful and is trying to hide it and be a good host but keeps having to sneak off to cough/sneeze. Until maybe one guest notices and that’s how he meets his future wife.”

A young heir attends a Christmas party with his childhood friend as his date. They find themselves in an interesting position when he falls ill.

CW: Vomiting.

(Author's note: Never written this time period before, but I would like to again in the future! I really enjoyed this prompt. And yes these two are definitely in love and will be married someday.)

The year is 1927, and two young men are seated in the back corner of a jazz club in New England, talking little as they sit, enjoying the music. As the band finishes their opening set and prepares to take a break, the older of the two men takes a deep drag from his cigarette, then glances at his companion.

"All ready for your parents' big Christmas shindig next weekend, Jesse?"

Jesse rolled his eyes and scoffed, tapping a cigarette of his own out of the pack. "Sure John, of course. It's such a thrill to be a captive audience as they get smoked and strut around peacocking for their friends. Highlight of my whole year, that. Masquerade Ball, my ass. What drivel."

John chuckled, reclining back in his chair and taking another drag. "You're expected to bring a dame too, yeah?"

"Naturally. It'd be too bad for the heir of the Hamilton fortune to attend without a looker, wouldn't it? Shame all the women in this town are abhorrent."

John shook his head with another chuckle. "That attitude is why you're a perpetual bachelor, hombre. But I have some news that may interest you. Did you know Miss Greenwood is back in town?"

Jesse's interest was piqued in spite of himself. "Lillian Greenwood is back?"

"The very same. Home from university for the holidays."

Jesse leaned back in his chair, trying to look unbothered. "So what if she is. What's it to me?"

"Well I dunno, only that you might like to invite her to the Masq’. If memory serves, you never found her particularly abhorrent."

"We were kids!"

"You were damn near inseparable. You don't *have* to do anything, Jess. But as your oldest friend, I'm asking you to think on it. You'd enjoy the party more if you had company, and I'm sure she'd like to see her old stomping grounds again. Just something to consider is all."

Jesse made no reply as the band resumed the stage just then, but he did indeed think on it very hard.

***

John's information was proven true only a day later. Jesse was just exiting a drugstore he frequented with a fresh carton of cigarettes when he caught the eye of Lillian Greenwood, who was just about to enter the same store, and looking very fetching in a blue fitted coat and hat. Both their eyes widened in surprise upon seeing each other, and for a moment they were speechless.

"Jesse?" Lillian finally said, a slow grin spreading over her face, so familiar to him. "It's been at least an age!" She seized his hands in hers, reaching up on tiptoes to peck him on the cheek. "How are you? I've missed you!"

"Lil!" He wrapped her in a hug. "I've missed you too! What are you doing back in this dump, accomplished University woman that you are now? I'm surprised you didn't run in the opposite direction from here a long time ago."

"Well I haven't graduated yet, silly. And I couldn't miss another Christmas at home. I missed everyone here so much. Oh Jesse, it's so good to see you!" She hugged him fiercely again. "You must tell me everything you've been up to! Come inside while I shop before we freeze."

He willingly followed her back in, looking fondly at the soft brown hair brushing across her shoulders. He was so sick of the horrid bobs all the girls were wearing, and he loved that Lillian was still wearing hers longer.

He trailed her through the whole store, gamely answering the barrage of questions she directed at him, but mostly content to enjoy her familiar presence. Eventually she stopped short, turning to face him.

"Are you all right? You're very quiet. You've hardly said anything."

"I'm sorry. Just worn out I guess. Been working extra before the holidays."

"You are looking a bit peaky. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jabber your ear off."

"No it's fine, honest. I'm just happy to see you."

"Likewise." She gave his hand a little squeeze, accompanied by a warm smile. Knowing he wasn't going to get a better opportunity, he took a deep breath.

"Lilli, do you remember that big bash my parents host every year for Christmas?"

"Oh yes!" she said, her eyes lighting up in pleasure. "It was my favorite part of the holidays!"

"No kidding? Well anyway, they still throw it. The last few years they changed it to a Masquerade Ball, but otherwise it's still just like it was. It's a week from Saturday. I know you just got into town and all, and maybe you already have plans… but what do you think about going with me as my date?"

Lillian's grin was immediate, and she clasped her hands together joyfully. "Oh Jess, I'd love that! Just like old times."

Jesse rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to smile. "Yeah, I guess. Same old dumb party. Like I said, if you're busy, don't worry about it. But you're welcome to come… if you want and all."

She looked confused and a little hurt at his abrupt backtracking. "Of course I want to come. I'll be there."

"Great. I better get going though. I'll call you in a few days to give you the details. It was great to see you, Lil." He pecked her on the cheek. "I'll see you around, kid."

He strode out of the store with hardly a backwards glance, leaving her shocked face in his wake. He hated himself for behaving that way, and he wasn't even sure why he did it. Perhaps it was because the "old times" she was referring to included the present he was stuck in, while she had clearly moved on. Perhaps it was the realization that he had resorted to asking his childhood best friend on a date rather than finding a real date to avoid the embarrassment of attending his parents' party unaccompanied. But whatever the reason, speaking to her had made him equal parts thrilled and miserable. Surprisingly, when he called her a few days later as promised, she again agreed to accompany him, despite his rude behavior in the drug store, and continued to insist she was excited for the party, despite his constant negativity towards it.

***

The Saturday before Christmas dawned bright and snowy, and the Hamilton estate was in an uproar all day with last-minute preparations. Every surface was bedecked for the holidays with ribbons and garlands and tinsel and wreaths and holly and candles. A Christmas tree stood in every room, making the whole house aromatic, each twinkling and topped with a star. When evening rolled in, so too did the guests, all as twinkling and bedecked as the house, filling every room in no time. The Masquerade Ball had begun.

Lillian arrived promptly. Jesse met her in the foyer. Even wearing a mask, she was easily recognizable. She looked stunning in a sparkling gown that accented her figure perfectly. Her eyes were a color that would be easier called unique than pretty, her nose a touch irregular, and her teeth a touch crooked, but Jesse had always found her beautiful. Yet he was in a foul temper, and had been the whole day, and seeing her gave him little pleasure. He noted she had pinned up her hair so it appeared “bobbed” like everyone else's, and even such a simple thing soured his mood further. Upon seeing her initially, he took her hand and kissed it, then gave a sarcastic bow.

“Welcom, Lillian dear. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he said, trying to keep his tone civil

She curtsied daintily, smiling warmly. “The pleasure is all mine. You look very dashing and alluring in that mask.”

He chucked coldly. “You’re looking spiffy yourself, kid. Well, shall we get on with it?” He offered her his arm, which she took, almost hesitantly.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “You seem… not yourself.”

“Fine and dandy. Ready to cut a rug and show a girl a good time. Let’s not keep the evening waiting.” He didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm out of his tone, but continued to tug her toward the dining room, albeit gently. She reluctantly followed, casting him worried glances.

The young Master Hamilton performed his part admirably through the whole evening, however, donning the persona of the host as easily as he did his mask. He chatted and danced and flirted with the appropriate people, giving Lilli adequate attention as required as well. His mother must have been pleased, for the night was a smashing success, from the dinner to the dancing to the decor. Everyone was raving the whole evening about what a splendid party it was. The best one yet, everyone said, just as they said every year.

Jesse, however, was utterly miserable. The bodies packing every room made him too warm, the lights were too bright, the music and din of talking made his head throb, the food smells turned his stomach, and the aroma of pine everywhere left him feeling on the verge of a sneeze all night, especially since his nose had been on the verge of dripping since he awoke. He could only nibble the rich supper. He was barely able to swallow even small sips of Christmas punch without feeling the urge to gag.

In order to keep his sanity, whenever Lillian was occupied talking to someone and he wasn't otherwise engaged, he would duck into one of the unused side parlors. In this sanctuary, away from the lights and sounds and smells, he removed his mask and composed himself. He would first allow himself to sneeze unhindered, finally able to stop his incessant stifling and sniffling, each time surprising himself at how wet and messy and ill they sounded. Then, if he hadn't been gone too long, he would rest his face against the icy window pane, breathing slowly and deeply as a halo of condensation spread out from his hot forehead. Inevitably though, the time would come when he was forced to replace his mask and reenter the ball before he was missed. He counted down the hours desperately, willing himself to last until the end of the party.

The evening began to wind down, and Jesse found himself ducking away more and more frequently. His stomach was in knots and his nausea was gradually rising, so composure was getting harder to maintain. He always checked to ensure Lilli was involved in a conversation before he did so, however. Imagine his surprise then, when moments after he snuck into his sanctuary yet again, he heard the door open after him and Lillian appeared just as he had given over to a violent sneezing jag:

Hiihhh'GEHSSSH'ieeew! ESSSHH'yuuh! Hrrr'USH'IIEWW! Kuhh-hhiiih-ISSSHYUUH!"

"Bless you, Jesse! Heavens, that was a fit! Are you alright?" she asked, approaching him and removing her own mask. "Have you been sneezing like that all night? You keep disappearing."

He flashed the most winning smile he could muster even as he wiped the mess from his face. "I'm just ducky," he said, swallowing thickly as his stomach also decided to give a nasty lurch. "All the pine in the air gets me sneezing. Must be a bit allergic. Sorry for worrying you. Let's go back out before we're missed. I think I owe you a dance or two."

She ignored his rambling and came to stand directly in front of him with a searching look. She lifted a hand and brought the back of it to his sweaty forehead. She clucked softly.

"You're sick, aren't you? You're not feeling well at all."

The thin facade that was holding him together finally crumbled. He limply leaned against the wall, nodding mutely.

"Why didn't you say something? You should be in bed. You look awful."

"I didn't want to spoil the evening," he mumbled.

"Well we need to get you out of here. You look like you're about to collapse."

"I am about to collapse," he said ruefully.

"Come on then. No one will miss us anyway. Let's go up the servants' steps over here so we're not seen."

"I don't want you to miss out on the ball. You looked like you were having fun."

She caressed his cheek fondly. "I came here tonight to spend time with you. I'm not missing out on anything."

They shared a smile, his first genuine one of the night. Then she took him by the hand and led him expertly along the least conspicuous route to his bedroom. The pair of them had spent hours exploring every inch of this house from top to bottom as children, every cupboard, cranny, and corner. He hadn't forgotten those times, and clearly she hadn't either.

It was strange bringing her back to his room. They had spent hours together here too during their growing-up years. He couldn't help but imagine it through her eyes--what was different, what was the same. He realized bitterly that the only thing that was really different was the lack of toys and games everywhere. His room was a reflection of his life--boring and stagnant.

If she was thinking along those lines, she gave no indication. Instead she led him to his bed with a hand at the small of his back, guiding him into a sitting position and helping him remove his jacket and tie. His shirt clung to his back with sweat, and heat rolled off of him in waves. The drier air up here made him begin to cough as soon as he sat, the sound hoarse and desperate. She made a sympathetic sound as she carded her fingers through his damp hair, then dug through his dresser, pulling out a set of his pajamas and tossing them over.

"Make yourself more comfortable, and I'll do the same." She headed to his en suite bathroom. "I'll be right back. Try to relax, Jess." She gave him a little smile, which he attempted to return, a hand going to his sore stomach even as he did.

Once the bathroom door was closed behind her, he slowly changed into his pajama bottoms and managed to strip down to his undershirt. All at once, his stomach had had enough, and he knew he was going to vomit. With the bathroom occupied, the next available option was the balcony off of his room. He dashed outside to the railing, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground below, heaving until he had nothing left. As the spasms slowed, his vision began to go gray and wobbly. He sank to his knees weakly, unable to do anything else, clinging to the railing in the freezing cold, which at first felt pleasant on his fevered skin.

He wasn't sure how long he knelt there, and it would have been even longer had Lillian not come out to find him. By the time she did, he was shivering so violently that his teeth rattled in his head. She was speaking to him, but he couldn't register what she was saying. Finally she pulled him bodily to his feet and helped him inside, her arm wrapped around his waist as she supported most of his weight. She again led him to his bed, making him lie down this time and bundling blankets over his icy cold skin while she sat at his side. His consciousness solidified and the world stopped spinning, and eventually he noticed that while she was still wearing her party dress, she had removed her makeup and unpinned her hair, looking more like her old self. The thought made him marginally warmer.

"Let me go fetch some tea for you, and some medicine," she murmured, stroking his hair. She stood and tried to pull away, but he quickly grabbed her wrist, his grasp surprisingly strong.

"Don't go," he rasped, choking back a cough. "I don't want tea or medicine. It'll only make me vomit again. Just stay."

"Stay…" she repeated. "Right. I suppose I could stay."

She went to pull a chair to his bedside, but he stopped her.

"No, come lie here with me."

"Jesse…" she began. "That's not--"

"Why shouldn't you? You were my date. It's what everyone is expecting anyway," he said, a glint of humor in his eye.

She laughed in spite of herself. "I suppose there is that." Against her better judgement, she crossed to the other side of his bed and slipped under the blankets, trying to be mindful of her dress as she got comfortable. He immediately rolled over and nestled against her, and she wrapped an arm around him and began to rub his back soothingly.

They passed the night exactly like that. He was exhausted and very ill, and was clearly miserable the whole night through. However, he refused to let her leave the bed to fetch him anything and only wanted to lie against her all night as he slipped in and out of sleep. She vaguely recalled him being the same way when they were young, but she certainly hadn't expected such behavior tonight. Then again, she hadn't expected to be sharing his bed either.

He slept fitfully, his symptoms keeping him from true rest despite his weariness. Away from the pine trees his sneezing was less, but the congestion and coughing was worse. He was achy and nauseous and too hot or too cold. He also wanted to be touching her at all times, so she slept even less, for between his tossing and groaning and his sweltering fever heat, she could not get comfortable. Yet she knew he needed her this way tonight, and was glad to be able to help her oldest friend.

The morning dawned gray and cold. Lillian lay awake still, while Jesse was at last sleeping beside her, his face tucked into her side. She was trying to decide how best to convince him to let her go home and change when an opportunity for escape presented itself in the form of his mother.

Lillian heard her well before she saw her, for her best shoes clattered loudly on the stairs, and her inebriated giggling and whispering was impossible to miss. It was almost certain she hadn't gone to bed after the party. Lillian quickly slipped out from under Jesse's arm and slid to the floor, ducking under the bed. Just because Jesse seemed to think she was expected to spend the night with him did not mean she wanted to be caught in it, especially by Mrs. Hamilton, regardless of what did or did not happen.

Mrs. Hamilton attempted to be stealthy as she peeked into her son's room, but only his fever-induced slumber prevented him from waking. However, even while intoxicated, what they say about a mother's sense is true, for she apparently noted something amiss and crept closer to her son's bed. Lillian could only see her feet and legs, but she assumed she Mrs. Hamilton reached out to feel her son's forehead, for the elder woman made a little sound of dismay and began to shake him awake.

"Jesse, you're burning up! Oh my, what happened? Are you sick? Did it start at the ball? How long have you not felt well? Oh you're so pale! And you're shivering! My poor baby! What can I do?..." It seemed she had no end of exclamations and questions. Lillian couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Meanwhile Jesse made sounds of waking, sounding very irritated and confused at first. He didn't realize what was happening initially, and Lillian heard him say her name more than once. Thankfully his mother did not notice over the sound of her own constant flow of verbalized concern. Eventually Jesse realized who was speaking to him and began to give appropriate answers, leaving Lillian out of most of it, which the young woman appreciated.

Mrs. Hamilton didn't stop speaking the entire time she was in the room. Eventually though it became clear she intended to fetch a doctor, tea, medicine, and one hundred other things for her son's illness. Jesse spoke only as much as he had to, his voice weak and hoarse and congested. He did not argue with her about any of it, knowing it was futile. Finally the well-meaning woman left, still talking even as she shut the door behind herself.

Lillian gingerly rolled out from under the bed, startling Jesse when she appeared beside him out of nowhere. However a grin split his face when their eyes met.

"I thought you left me without saying goodbye," he rasped.

"Well now you see I haven't. I do need to leave now though, before your mother returns with an army of doctors and finds me here. I would also like to change my clothes at some point and freshen up. Perhaps take a bit of a nap."

He looked devastated at this, but perked up as she continued:

"I'll come back soon though, as a proper visitor. I don't fancy ducking under the bed whenever anyone comes up the stairs."

"All right," he sighed. "I'll be waiting for you, then."

She approached him, pressing her lips to his hair as he hugged her fiercely.

"Be well, Jess. I'll see you soon." She moved to the doorway, her eyes twinkling in a smile. "And thanks for a great night. That was a date I'll never forget."

#sickfic #everyone is hotter with a fever #sicktember2021 #prompt 28

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

Text

As Above, So Below

I’m still trying to pinpoint exactly why the focus on “heaven is fixed and actually a paradise now!” is just so deeply unsatisfying to me. And I think I need to preface this with a bit of backstory about me, because I think that gives the rest of this essay some relevant context.

I know this isn’t relevant to my main point here, but this is a metatextual and thematically identical example of the exact thing I’m gonna lay out, because context is always helpful. So please forgive this seemingly irrelevant detour, because I promise it will be relevant by the end.

(plus, would it really be an Essay By Mittens™ without at least one baffling tangent? no, it would not!)

Tangent time!

I think everyone that follows me knows how skeptical I was... or should I say how WARY I was of the way Eileen was returned to the narrative this season. We were warned in the PREVIOUS EPISODE how much Chuck was attempting to interfere in their lives. I was accused of some very nasty things, of hating the ship, or hating the character of Eileen, or of hating Sam and not wanting them to be happy. No amount of pointing at obvious warning signs in the text, no amount of yelling about Sam’s God Wound or the absolute klaxon warning that the wound had become “quiet” and his Chuck-O-Vision Nightmares had apparently stopped seemed to matter. I was declared “wrong” and told to shut up.

And then 15.09 happened, and basically everything I’d been wary of was shown to be what actually happened, but there were still unresolved issues. Eileen doubted her own feelings and walked away. She doubted what was actually real. And at the time, I said many times that I would be thrilled to see those issues resolved by the end of the season, and for her to truly know that what she’d felt growing between her and Sam was real. And by the end of the season, despite my personal horror at her previous situation (and having that personal horror compounded by the fandom literally gaslighting me and attempting to bully me into ignoring this basic actual plot detail of this specific growth process which... in the context of what my personal objection was to accepting her return at face value in the first place having been personal trauma associated with gaslighting and manipulation...) by the time 15.18 aired, I was 100% convinced that Sam and Eileen had fully chosen each other, and felt the traumatic pain Sam suffered during that text conversation with her during the snap. She NEEDED to come back, because she had been set up to be part of Sam’s Win. They were clearly each other’s future.

The show literally put in all the work to make even *me* feel this to be True and Right and Good. And then after that point we never even hear Eileen’s name again. We never were told that she was even returned at the end of 15.19. Sam, who had been so entirely devastated by her disappearance in the previous episode that he couldn’t even process it was apparently hit with an amnesia hammer and just... never even thought about her again through a long greyscale life with a blurry baby Dean factory vaguely in the background of a single scene of his life. I can’t credit or justify how after an entire year invested in making us all truly care about Sam and Eileen and the happiness they found in each other if only the cosmos would allow them to choose each other in the end would just... erase all of that in the series finale.

Which brings me to the second tangent, which is specifically about *me,* and how I feel about the cosmic order in the television show Supernatural. Because I feel a lot about it. Probably more than most people ever did. And this is also important to understanding the main underlying point I need to make here.

Something I’ve been most looking forward to, for YEARS, about Supernatural eventually ending someday was writing a book, or a thesis, or even just organizing and compiling all my observations into a cohesive narrative specifically about the cosmology of the Supernatural universe. I’ve been cobbling together my observations and realizations about the nature of heaven, hell, purgatory, the empty, the alternate universes we’ve seen, and yes, even the cosmic function of the mundane level of the story as told by events that transpired on Earth. So of everyone watching this dumb show for the last 15 years, I don’t actually know anyone who cared more that I did about finding a satisfactory resolution and transformation of every plane of existence-- the mortal world AND the “afterlife realms” we’ve experienced on this show. And in the wake of the finale, I feel cheated out of that. Because in the end, it wasn’t about the triumph of free will and a flip of the script, it was just more of the same.

And now that I have those two preliminaries out of the way, I’ll finally get to the point. :’D

(hooray, it didn’t even take 1k words to get there for once!)

The “main stage” of Supernatural has always been Earth. It’s always been “Humanity.” At the very start, we meet two men whose lives had always been dictated to them by higher powers. At first, that “higher power” was their father who raised them in his vengeance mission, who trained them to hunt the supernatural. It was the inciting incident of the entire series, after all, their realization that forces outside of their control had irrevocably altered the course of their lives. It had forever torn down what they’d trusted in family, in personal safety, and would become something they couldn’t outrun or fight back against for long before another wave of cosmic discord would settle over them once more.

We watched this story play out in ever increasing spheres of cosmic significance, until Gabriel laid it out on the table for them in the simplest possible terms (in 5.08).

GABRIEL: You do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping this, because this isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You'd think you'd be able to relate. SAM: What are you talking about? GABRIEL: You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other. DEAN: What the hell are you saying? GABRIEL: Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always. A long pause. SAM and DEAN look down, then at each other. DEAN: No. That's not gonna happen. GABRIEL: I'm sorry. But it is. GABRIEL sighs. GABRIEL: Guys. I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow...but this is real, and it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be. ***

And isn’t that all even 1000x more painfully ironic that it all still happened even 10 years later? It was always going to end with them. And lol, “I wish this were a TV show” because if it was then it wouldn’t have to end bloody.

But this… was a Major Acknowledgement that the meta level of this story was consistent, and was telling us something important. It demonstrated that the Cosmic Structure Itself was the cause for Sam and Dean’s “destiny” in this story. But that’s not what the point of this story has ever been.

Nobody (including me, who is literally obsessed with this aspect of the story) has ever invested themselves in the narrative of Supernatural because they cared about the fate of the cosmic order over and above the fate of the characters who had committed to overthrowing it all, to “tearing up the pages” and writing their own destinies. I mean, we became invested because Sam, Dean, and Cas as characters took us by the hand and invited us to come along with them as they battled against fate for the good of EARTH and HUMANITY.

And certainly, Heaven being a horrific sort of eternal replay of the “highlights” of individual souls greatest hits, where free will didn’t apply as everyone was just boxed away into their individual holodecks to serve as some sort of giant Heaven Battery powering the furtherance of this narrative, this “cosmic order” that had become so powerful it dictated the events and manipulated the lives of people who still existed in the ostensible realm of free will and human life on Earth… that couldn’t stand in the end. But what the narrative (and people I’ve seen attempting to justify the finale as narratively sensible) seems to have forgotten was that all of that was Chuck’s construct to begin with. That without Chuck holding his kingdom in Heaven together, the walls of all those soul cubicles ceased to even be relevant.

After spending their entire lives to this point constantly fighting their way to the absolute pinnacle of the As Above, So Below narrative and pulling the plug on the original creator himself, Humanity should’ve triumphed. And I’d argue that it DID, through Jack restoring the missing essential “humanity” to the divine condition. And, silly me, I thought they’d achieved the promise of “paradise” heralded by Jack’s birth at last, and truly “flipped the entire script of the narrative.”

Ever since they thwarted the original apocalypse, I had hope that they would continue to achieve the same result right up the ladder. Metatron trying to fill the role of Chuck Junior hit his own narrative wall in TFW, while Dean’s battle with the Mark of Cain, and Cain telling him he was “living my life in reverse” and would succumb to destiny by killing his loved ones in the “reverse order” to Cain’s own path to downfall cemented this for me. Dean not only failed to kill any of his loved ones (you didn’t kill your own brother. why?), he SAVED them. He didn’t fulfil the prophecy in reverse, he subverted it. He UNMADE it.

Perhaps I was thinking on too grand a scale, that the ultimate inversion wouldn’t be “God is overthrown and replaced by more of the same,” but “God is overthrown and the entire order of the universe is restructured from the bottom up rather than the top down.

I’d hoped against hope that the conclusion of the narrative would be “As below, so above,” with the fundamental power of human love becoming the new foundation of the cosmic order. It never even occurred to me that “taking back the narrative to rewrite it for ourselves” was not the ultimate goal of Team Free Will, or the ultimate expression of their biggest win.

This whole “well heaven really needed to be rebuilt, there was still work to be done!” seems… irrelevant to me if they’d truly won free of the cosmic narrative. The entire structure of the universe-- including Heaven and Hell-- should’ve defaulted to the paradise state that Jack was literally born to bring to fruition. Wasn’t that the point of his entire role in the story, ultimately?

And if that wasn’t the case in the end, why did we never learn the fate of Hell? Was it just… irrelevant and unchanged after this? Or just… abandoned as a concept entirely? It’s just strange to me to put such a focus on heaven being the sole sphere of import in the end that it undercuts the essential humanity of the narrative for me.

The story itself had kept Heaven on a back burner for years, only occasionally mentioning that the structure of the place was falling further and further into disrepair with a dwindling force of angels struggling to keep the walls in place at all, that it seems like it could’ve been an afterthought at the end of the series rather than a focus so large it required the death of both main characters to make sure we all understood that Heaven Had Changed Now. Because TFW had never been fighting to make Heaven right. They’d been fighting to save the world itself, for humanity to all have a chance to live their lives as their own.

And we didn’t need to see that in the final hope they might get their own lives on Earth to explore. In the end, the fundamental narrative that Life On Earth was dictated by the cosmic structure of creation was never fully subverted. And for me, that’s the main reason I just… can’t accept the finale. It wasn’t a victory of free will and humanity, in the end it was just more of the same.

I appreciate the attempts to take the essential bones of the story we did get and apply a different polish to the surface of the skeleton, but to me it still feels like we’re looking at completely different beasts in the end. Like… to me this was as jarring a revelation as those drawing of modern animals reimagined as dinosaurs entirely based on their skeletons. Like, all along the narrative told me I was looking at a swan. They told me this skeleton they’re building out from is definitely a swan, without a doubt. I know what a swan looks like-- a graceful feather-covered bird with magnificent wings. I trusted that in the end it would be at least remotely swan-looking. And then the finale ended up looking like this

and I just don’t even know where everything went so wrong. Or maybe all along I just assumed they actually knew what a swan looked like, but weren’t sure they could actually pull it off and settled for whatever the heck this is instead. Either way, I’m actually kinda grateful to the finale for being so entirely disappointing on every level, because otherwise I probably would’ve tried to adopt the monstrosity of it anyway. And I’m really, really glad I don’t have to.

#spn 15.20 #spn cosmology #heaven hell purgatory and the empty #and this is why no amount of narrative defense of the finale is capable of making me feel any better about it #i admit i thought too big... but it was all right there in the narrative to see #oh well at least all i have to do to hold on to my grandest notion of the universe is throw out the finale :'D

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astralaffairs · 3 years

Note

think of it as like an au or something, but I'm just curious to see how president thom would react to seeing someone forcing themselves on mc at like a state dinner if they're not together, i feel like he'd try to stand up for her but also it'd be kinda sus of the president standing up for some press figure who's been talking shit abt him

i love this concept omg. i got an ask similar to this a while back, so i’ve been sitting on a lot of ideas for it. tbh thomas would hardly be able to restrain himself from fucking throttling whoever’s harassing mc, but he isn’t gonna refrain from stepping in. anyway, his standing up for her then makes the media hail him as a feminist icon for like the next 3 weeks

this broke my heart to write tho lowkey </3

-----

"You're… you're Y/N L/N, aren't you? With the Washington Post?"

Y/N had been sour all night. Her feet were cramping in her heels, the tag on her dress was starting to itch, and worst of all, her editor had forced her to take the invite Alex had extended her to the state dinner. She’d had no plans of interacting with the Jefferson administration — in fact, her plan had been to stay as far from them as possible so that she could focus on work, but she mentioned the state dinner offhandedly to a coworker, another had overheard, and the next thing she knew, her boss had found out.

Moreover, she was fairly certain that Thom– no, President Jefferson had only invited Alex to antagonize him, so it was no wonder he didn’t want to go. However, when he gave her the invite, she protested that, since it wasn’t addressed to her, she couldn’t go, and she certainly couldn’t go without him, but both Alex and her editor had insisted it’d be fine. There would be enough people present that she’d slip under the radar, so what was the harm?

And slip under the radar she did. As Vice President and Second Lady, James and Dolley were unattainable company for the evening; they were busy with the heads of PACs, with senators, with members of the State Department. The latter group included Lafayette — he’d been promoted not long after President Jefferson took office, which ruled him, too, out of her options for who she could hang out with. He was off wooing foreign diplomats.

So, there she was, standing alone at the side of the room with her expensive champagne (there was an open bar, thank god) and the small-but-growing pile of business cards she’d collected throughout the night.

At least, she was alone until the anonymous man in question approached her. She turned to him with her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m Y/N,” she said, surprised that she’d been recognized. “I’m not with the Post, anymore, though.”

“Of course. My mistake,” he apologized, and when he extended to her a hand to shake, she stuffed her newly-acquired business cards back into her purse “I’m Richard Lestrade. I work in the Department of Defense.”

“Nice to meet you.” She had little interest in chatting with him, but she politely shook his hand. “What can I do for you?”

He laughed softly, but it made Y/N raise an eyebrow. “I don’t have some kind of agenda. I just recognized you from your time as a news analyst and thought I’d come introduce myself.”

“Of course.”

She only responded so as to placate him, and she thought that how curt her reply was would deter him from trying to strike up a conversation. She met his eyes with an expectant eyebrow raised as she took another sip from her champagne.

“So how’d you get an invite here tonight?” he asked after a moment. “I mean, I was invited because I work for him, working on naval strategy and all, so it’s just a perk of the job, but I’m surprised to see you. With how much you’ve done to keep President Jefferson from being elected, I wouldn’t think you’d end up on the guest list for state dinners.”

She shrugged. “Alexander Hamilton invited me, actually.”

“Secretary Hamilton was invited? Really?” At that, the disbelief in Richard’s expression was almost patronizing. “Wow, I didn’t hear that he and President Jefferson had buried the hatchet. I always thought they were rivals, or even enemies.”

“Oh, make no mistake, they hate each other,” she said coolly.

“So why would Secretary Hamilton be invited?”

“So Jefferson could rub it in his face that he won the election.” She shrugged, turning back to face the room before them, but Richard seemed surprised.

“No, no, he wouldn’t be that petty,” he scoffed, but his tone was condescending, as though her theory had absolutely no foundation. “He’s the president. I think he has higher priorities than antagonizing someone who’s old news.”

Y/N resisted rolling her eyes at his calling Alex ‘old news,’ as though Richard was somehow a higher calibre of invitee to the state dinner. “You underestimate how catty politicians are. Jefferson included.”

“President Jefferson,” he corrected her, and she gave him a sidelong glance, eyeing him warily.

“Sure.”

“But anyway, I suppose I’m glad President Jefferson invited Hamilton, if it means you’re here, too.” Richard raised his glass to her as though in tribute, and she was sure the smile she offered him came off as more of a grimace. She had little appreciation for his heavy-handed advance.

“That’s nice of you to say,” she replied mildly before draining the remainder of her glass. She turned to him with a nonchalant, nearly-blank expression. “And as great as it’s been to meet you, I think I have to run. I’m heading out soon and need to say a few goodbyes.” Truthfully, she had no intention of leaving. Her editor would have her head if he found out she cut bait so early in the night, and if she fled before Jefferson addressed the entire room, she wouldn’t be able to provide her boss with the synopsis of the presidential address. She only wanted to leave that conversation.

“You’re leaving so early? Why’s that?”

She shrugged. “I suppose the Jefferson Administration isn’t really my scene. I’ll see you around, Mr. Lestrade.”

“Please, it’s Richard,” he corrected her. “But you should stay longer. If you leave now, you’ll miss President Jefferson’s address.”

What was it with this guy and using Jefferson’s full title? “Please, consider for a moment that missing it may be entirely the point,” she said dryly, and Richard gave a light laugh.

“Oh, please. I’m sure that even a democrat like you can appreciate a good speech.” ‘Even a democrat like her’? What was that supposed to mean? “As a journalist, this should be right up your alley.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find the transcript online in a few hours. I’ll survive.”

“It’ll have a much greater impact in person,” he countered, and she sighed. “So, please, stay. Can I get you a drink? What are you drinking?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay,” she said. As though she was about to let a man she’d met only minutes before handle her drink. That would be a recipe for disaster. “I really should get going.”

“No, wait,” he protested, and when she began walking away from him anyway, he caught her by the arm, pulled her back. She turned back to him with an expectant expression, trying to quell the anger building in her chest. “You can’t leave yet; dinner hasn’t even been served.”

“I can fend for myself on that front,” she assured him, and although her teeth were clenched, she plastered on a smile. “So if you’d kindly let go of my arm, I’m going to be on my way.”

“I was hoping to get to know you, actually.” He released her, but her immediately marching off toward the center of the room caught him off guard. “No, wait!” She stifled a groan when she heard him hurrying after her, and as he came to a stop in front of her, blocking her path, she narrowed her eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Come sit down with me and some of my friends; it’ll be a nice time, okay? I’m a nice guy.” He wore a hopeful smile, apparently convinced of his words as she folded her arms.

“I’m sure you are, but I need to get back to my table to retrieve my coat,” she said apologetically. Her anger didn’t show on her face, thankfully. “So I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Oh, sure you can; you’re just being stubborn,” he insisted. He took a step forward toward Y/N, and she took a step back. “Now, I know we’re from opposite parties, and all, but I’ve been a fan of your reporting for a long time, and I’d really appreciate it if you just came and sat down with us for a few minutes. You and I have a lot in common. I have a feeling we’d hit it off.”

The coy smile he wore made her want to grimace, and when he added a wink, she did grimace, visibly. “This is nice and all, but I’m not really interested.”

“Sure, because you don’t know me yet,” Richard countered, and he took another step toward her, grabbing her by the elbow as he came to stand next to her. Y/N could feel her heart pounding as he forcibly turned her, pointed out his table. “Let’s go. We’re sitting right over there.”

“No, really, I’d rather not,” she repeated, and as she tried to pull her arm away from his grip, he pulled her toward him with an arm around her waist — it was then she realized she couldn’t do nearly anything about it without making a scene. And given her history, a scene was the last thing she wanted. “Please let go of me.”

“You don’t have to stay long; I’m not asking much.” It was then that he began leading her toward the table, and as she stumbled alongside him, panic was rising in her chest. She was looking around for some way out, some familiar face — Dolley, Lafayette, someone — but nobody appeared. “Just have a seat. Let me get you a drink.”

And there he was, repeating his offer. No matter who it was, the insistence on drinking with her would make her wary, but this man already had worry building in her throat, so the feeling only compounded with his words. “I don’t want to come with you. Get your hands off of me.” He didn’t stop, though, and she finally had to dig in her heels, trying to pull back from him. She knew he was stronger than her, but her resistance to him dragging her along certainly grabbed his attention. Richard frowned.

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a–”

“‘M fairly sure I heard her tellin’ you to let go of her.” The voice was stern, and it made both her and Richard freeze, and for entirely different reasons. Y/N would’ve been able to recognize it anywhere, the southern drawl, the lazy enunciation, and her pulse was then spiking for an entirely different reason. Richard turned immediately toward the sound, releasing her, but Y/N stayed put.

“Mr. President,” Richard said breathlessly, his eyes wide. “It’s an honor to meet you; I–”

“What’s your name?”

“Richard Lestrade, sir.” He sounded excited to have courted Jefferson’s attention, apparently oblivious to the undertone of anger in his voice. Y/N recognized it clearly, though, too clearly, and it made her sick to her stomach. She resented the familiarity.

“D’you work here, Mr. Lestrade?”

“I work for the Department of Defense, sir. I’m a naval strategist. Graduated top of my class from the US Naval Academy; I actually helped plan the–”

“I don’t remember askin’ for your resume.” Then, the annoyance Jefferson exuded was clear, unmistakable in his snarky interjection. Y/N had to purse her lips to keep herself from laughing, especially as she glanced over at Richard and found him pale as a ghost.

“Of course not, sir. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizin’ to, now,” Jefferson said frankly, and Y/N didn’t see him watching her until she reluctantly turned, glancing between him and Lestrade. “Ms. Y/N L/N, correct?” he asked, and she nearly winced.

“Yes, that’s me.” Her strained smile was fooling nobody, but when he saw it, Jefferson’s composure didn’t waver.

“Did I hear you tellin’ Mr. Lestrade not to touch you?”

When he addressed her, she forced herself to shake her nerves, he jumbled emotions, off for the time being, and she pushed her shoulders back, presenting a front of confidence.

“You did, as a matter of fact.” She looked up tentatively to meet his eyes — and she immediately wished she hadn’t. While his expression exuded nonchalance, his casual authority over the situation, she knew him well enough to recognize the concern in his eyes: his forehead was creased almost imperceptibly, one eyebrow was quirked up, and one corner of his mouth twitched down. Her jaw tensed as she swallowed her heartache.

She was grateful that he then turned back to Richard. “Care to explain yourself, Mr. Lestrade?”

The interaction had stirred a bit of a crowd around them by then; the others in their immediate vicinity had ended their conversations at once upon hearing the confrontation, but the hush seemed to be spreading further across the room, and Richard was glancing left and right as he gaped at Jefferson. “Oh, no, it was just a misunderstanding. Look–”

“I’m not sure it was,” Jefferson cut him off, and his tone was biting. “Forgive me if this is too presumptuous, but I don’t think there’s anything unclear about a woman tellin’ you to take your hands off of her.”

“We were just chatting.”

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” Jefferson said, folding his arms. “From where I was standin’, it seemed like you grabbed a woman against her will, and you refused to let go. ‘S that accurate, Ms. L/N?”

She wished desperately that he’d stop addressing her. Her throat went dry as he all but admitted he’d been watching her, and she could only nod, unable to find her voice. Thankfully, he took that as enough of an answer.

“I never meant to hurt Y/N, sir. Honestly, I’m so sorry if I did–” Richard turned to Y/N. “I’m so sorry if I hurt you, but my intention wasn’t–”

“You blatantly ignored me telling you to stop,” she said. His speaking to Y/N once again made her blood boil, and she couldn’t help but snap at him, despite how lightly she felt herself to be treading in present company. “Don’t pretend like this was some unfortunate accident.”

Lestrade went from gaping at Jefferson to gaping at her, then. “I… I’m sorry, again, but come on, you know I was just trying to be friendly,” he defended, and she rolled her eyes, getting tired of his excuse. The edge of aggression in his tone made her take a wary step away from him, though. “I invited you to–”

“You said you work for the Department of Defense, correct?” Jefferson cut him off, diverting his attention from Y/N, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, silently thanking him for bailing her out.

“Yes, sir.” Lestrade offered a weak smile, but his fear was obvious in how he was holding himself. Jefferson regarded him with an air of disgust, looking him up and down.

“Well, you don’t anymore.” Y/N’s eyes widened at the declaration, but President Jefferson paid her no mind. “ I’ll be in touch with your supervisor to have you dismissed.”

“What?” Lestrade asked, “but, sir, that’s my job. I need to–”

“Not anymore, it isn’t.” President Jefferson’s words were firm. “Now, please, I’d like to ask you to leave now so it isn’t necessary for me to have you shown out with a security detail.”

Lestrade froze, and for a moment, Y/N expected him to protest, but when he saw all the people around them watching him, anticipating his next move, he turned on his heel, flushing bright red, and started toward the exit. Y/N and Jefferson were both scowling as they watched him leave.

However, it wasn’t long before Jefferson turned to Y/N, although she hadn’t turned back to face him.

“Are you alright, Ms. L/N?” he asked mildly, and she was sure her surprise pertaining to the whole situation was written across her face when she met his gaze. She nodded hesitantly. “I’d appreciate hearin’ you say it.”

“I’m just fine,” she assured him, voice shaky, and his tense shoulders relaxed, although he didn’t look fully convinced. “But thanks for your concern, really, Thom– sorry, Secretary– I mean, President Jefferson.”

She saw the corners of his lips twitch up when she almost called him Thomas.

"Of course. Let me know if there's anything I can do." His words were wary, careful not to cross any lines or to impose upon her, but she smiled.

"I think that firing Mr. Lestrade on sight was quite enough," she said, and when a grin split Thomas’s– President Jefferson's worried expression, her stomach turned; her smile was strained. Everything about him felt too familiar, painfully familiar.

"Fair enough,” he acquiesced. At how ill-at-ease she appeared, though, his smile wavered. “Hope I didn't go overboard."

She shrugged. "He deserved it."

Thomas Jefferson laughed, and the sound was as warm as she remembered it being. She hadn’t heard it in person in nearly three years, and for her to have come across him so suddenly, it was jarring. She was quite sure she was going to be sick.

“I s’pose you’re right.” By then, those around them had begun to disperse, so after glancing left and right, he took a step closer to her, furrowed his brow, and every muscle in her body tensed. Yet, she didn’t move away. His voice was soft, gentle when he asked. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, swallowing hard. “Don’t you have some politicians to get back to?”

He pursed his lips, and she was sure the tense grief in her expression wasn’t hidden as well as she’d have liked it to be. “I guess so,” he finally said, but he didn’t move, looking her over, and his voice was quiet when he said, “‘S good to see you, though. You look good.”

“Yeah, you too,” was all she could manage in response. He gave her a sad smile, nodded, and the silence between them stretched on Just as she thought he was about to turn, head back to where he’d been previously, he stopped himself.

“Will I see you around?”

The hope in his voice made her throat tighten, and she took a deep, shaky breath. She shook her head, and her voice nearly broke when she answered, “I don’t think you will.”

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shera-dnd · 3 years

Link

Had to split a simply colossal chapter into two smaller ones, so here is the first of those

Now featuring the faes’ true forms and an ungodly amount of simping

“I believed we had our winner when Lady Polendina got that perfect bullseye,” Weiss retold as she walked with her companions through the festival grounds, “but Lady Rose managed to, and I still cannot believe it, split her lover’s arrow with her own!”

“I’m certain there is an innuendo to be found there,” Ilia commented, earning her an offended scoff from the would-be-knight.

“Must you?” Weiss asked in exasperation.

“Believe me, Lady Gigas, she most certainly must.” Blake assured her, “but please continue. I’d love to hear more about our favorite couple.”

“Well, after they had finished utterly humiliating me in the shooting range,” she regaled, “they decided it was time to do so again in the sparring fields.”

“What is it with you knightly folk and sparring?” Ilia asked, seemingly annoyed, “is this your means of courtship? Were Lady Rose and Lady Polendina inviting you to join them in their tent?”

“It is a means to maintain our skills while coming to better understand each other!” Weiss countered, “and just because I now know where my preferences lie does not mean I’ll fall for the first woman to best me in combat!”

“Of course,” Ilia replied, though Weiss found no reassurance in her tone, “after all that honor would fall to Lady Blake, and we all know her preference is for women two times your size.”

“I have never claimed otherwise,” Blake replied with a shrug, “now would you mind procuring us some dinner, before you make our friend pop a blood vessel.”

“Very well,” Ilia sighed, as if she had been burdened with a terrible quest, “I shall meet you both back at camp. Please, do torment the Schnee in my absence.’

She offered them an over exaggerated bow and made her way deeper into the festival grounds, quickly disappearing amidst the crowd.

“You do know I could have just made us dinner, right?” Weiss asked, annoyance clear in her tone.

“And I’m certain it would have been delicious,” Blake replied, “but I’m not certain it would have been worth your sanity.”

“Of course.”

She hated to admit it, but she did not mind this at all. In fact she quite enjoyed the little trading of barbs that they partook in every day. It made for some interesting entertainment, and it allowed her to know Ilia a little better.

She was also quite enamored with the little laughs that would escape the fae whenever she got Weiss to make a fool of herself. No, she most definitely did not wish to question why she found Ilia’s laughter to be so endearing.

Definitely not.

Weiss decided then to archive those thoughts, and focus instead on the second most embarrassing topic in her mind.

“Thank you,” she muttered as they began making their way back to camp.

“No need to thank me,” Blake waved off, “wouldn’t want you two to strangle each other.”

“No, I meant…” Weiss sighed, “thank you for calling me a friend.”

Blake offered her a soft smile that only served to embarrass her further.

“I’m glad I got to call you that,” she replied, “and I’m sure Ilia thinks the same, even if she’ll never admit it.”

That got Weiss to smile back. Her life so far had been one of isolation, she had barely met anyone outside of the few select guests her father would allow into their manor, and had failed to find anyone who cared for her with the exception of Winter and Klein. But now she had been able to adventure beyond the walls of Atlas and find people who she could call friends.

Without Ilia with them to incite arguments and pester her, the rest of the walk back to camp was held in a comfortable silence. Though Weiss certainly missed the opportunity to get back at her friend for the earlier annoyance.

“If I may,” Blake began as soon as they arrived at their camp, “would you mind if I spent the night in my own skin for a change?”

It took Weiss’s mind a long moment to register what she meant by that request, but when it did she jumped to attention.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She asked, looking around to make sure no one had heard that.

“Our camp is secluded enough,” she shrugged, “and no one ever comes here uninvited.”

“If you’re sure,” Weiss replied, “then I would not mind.”

Blake smiled at her in thanks and began undressing herself. Weiss promptly turned to look away, eyes focusing on anything but her naked companion. What followed was a series of noises that she would fail to describe, though they tempted Weiss to look back at her, if only to make sure that she’s okay.

After a moment of silence she heard the heavy thump of something heavy hitting the ground, followed by Blake’s familiar voice, “you may look again now.”

Where once stood the proud Black Knight of Vale now sat something else entirely. Her form had grown tremendously, now easily challenging that of Lady Xiao Long, and her body had grown completely covered in black fur, with a small white spot on her chest and two others on the back of her now clawed hands.

Her hair too had grown longer and wilder, and the face that hid behind it now took the features of a feline, especially her golden eyes which now reflected the bonfire’s light with an eerie glow. Behind her sway a long black tail, though mostly catlike it was adorned with thorns and purple flowers.

No, not adorned, that plant was as much a part of her body as her tail.

Stunned was perhaps not enough to describe the state in which Weiss found herself right now. She had been raised on stories of the terrifying and monstrous fae that hid in the forests beyond the walls of Atlas, and though Blake’s true form definitely fit that description, she still carried herself with the same grace and nobility that she did in her human skin.

She was still a knight, and she was still Lady Blake.

Unfortunately Blake seemed to take notice of all the staring, “if this causes you discomfort, I could change back.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Weiss assured her, “I was simply unprepared.”

Pleased with that response, Blake began to vigorously stretch herself as if she had spent many hours locked inside a tight space - a comparison that was perhaps too appropriate for her much smaller human form - and behind her her tail swayed happily.

“I haven’t been able to don this form since we arrived for the festival,” Blake informed, “it is good to feel like myself again.”

“It won’t be good for long if the local knights decide to take our hides,” the familiar and ever cheerful tone of Ilia’s voice called as she approached camp and unceremoniously dropping a basket between the two of them, “though do enjoy your dinner while you can.”

“Thank you, I certainly plan to,” Blake replied, seemingly unfazed by Ilia’s usual foul mood, “now come, sit, take off that damned glamour for once.”

Ilia stared at her, as if she was trying to will her fellow fae to stop with this nonsense.

It did not work.

“She will not give in, Lady Ilia,” Weiss said, “we’ll already be in plenty of trouble if we’re found in the presence of one fae, a second one won’t make a difference.”

Lady Ilia was unamused by Weiss’s commentary, “and what, pray tell, is your plan in case they do find you in the presence of not one, but two fae?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, standing up so she would be on the same level as her, “I’ll have a heroic last stand where I’ll fight off a dozen knights, before rescuing you on horseback.”

“Is that so?” Ilia asked, trying to keep her lips from twitching.

Weiss stepped closer.

“Oh yes, and then we’d ride off towards the sunrise and you’d…” she paused for a moment, trying to remember something, “what was it you said? Swoon and praise me for my strength and bravery.”

“Didn’t you say you held no attraction towards swooning maidens, Schnee?” Ilia teased, her smile slowly beginning to take hold.

“I’d be simply fulfilling my knightly duties, Lady Ilia,” Weiss insisted.

“You know what, Schnee?” Ilia began, with a smile on her face as she closed the ever shrinking gap between her and the Schnee, “I think I will doff this damned glamour, if only so I can watch you get skewered by those dozen knights while I flee on horseback by myself.”

“I’ll make sure to make it entertaining to you, my lady,” Weiss assured her, now face to face with the smiling fae.

A chuckle escaped Blake’s lips, earning her the most terrifying glare from Lady Ilia. The knight was, of course, unimpressed, seeming to consider a comment in her mind before reconsidering and letting it die without being voiced. A decision that Ilia greatly approved.

“Now will you please cast away that glamour of yours and relax for once,” she said instead.

“Very well,” Ilia surrendered with a sigh.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but then it was like the Ilia Weiss had known had shattered like glass, and what stood behind the illusion could only be described as breathtaking.

Eyes of light blue turned into pure glowing white, freckled skin turned to thousands of scales woven together into a tapestry of color. On her forehead now stood two large thorns, almost like a pair of horns, though they exuded the same regal air as a proper crown.

Lady Ilia then disposed of her - now much bleeker looking - dress to reveal a growth of leaves and vines covering her more...intimate places. Still it was not her crown nor her naked form that had Weiss in awe, it was her wings.

They were not unlike those of a butterfly, though no butterfly could ever hope to match their beauty. They were the light of her eyes fractured again and again into more colors than Weiss's mortal eyes could see, all of them weaved together in a pattern that could make even the stained glass of Atlas's grand cathedral look plain by comparison.

It took all of Weiss’s will not to fall to her knees in worship of the beauty she had been given the privilege to bask in. Though it didn’t seem she was able to completely hide her reaction, as when their eyes met she saw surprise in Lady Ilia’s face, and for a moment it was as if every fragment of color in her body had turned to the brightest of pinks.

“Should I give you both some space?” Blake asked, tail swaying slowly behind her.

“Absolutely not!” Lady Ilia shouted, sitting back down and refusing to look back at the still stunned wannabe knight.

It was now Weiss’s turn to shift through several shades of pink. She whispered a silent prayer that the gods would return to Remnant if only so the God of Destruction could completely remove her - and her shame - from the face of this world. This gave her some time to recover, at least enough that she could sit by the campfire with her companions again.

Unfortunately for the both of them that awkward tension lingered over the camp like a thick fog. It did not help that neither of them found it within themselves to look at or even address each other. They left it all to Blake to rescue them from their self imposed punishment.

“Ilia,” she called, “I believe you had questions for me.”

Lady Ilia seemed to take a few moments to recognize that she was being spoken to, but bolted up in attention as she understood the opportunity that was being given her.

“You’ve yet to tell me how you came to join the humans,” she reminded, “or why iron doesn’t burn you.”

That piqued Weiss’s interest as well. She knew Blake had to have some kind of magical trick to don her armor without burning herself alive, perhaps if she could share that secret they could use it to help those fae who wished to live among humans.

“This isn’t some trick you can replicate, Ilia,” Blake explained, killing Weiss’s plan on the spot, “this is not a weapon the unseelie can use.”

Ilia let out a sound not unlike a growl, showing that her teeth were much sharper than before.

“Not everything I do is out of spite for humanity!” She almost shouted, and her body shifted into bloody reds and harsh yellows. Though that display clearly failed to intimidate her fellow fae, earning herself only a raised brow, a reaction that caused her to change colors once more, this time to pinks and blues. “You left us. I want to know why.”

“But I have already--”

“No,” she interrupted, colors shifting over and over through her body, unable and unwilling to settle, “you don’t just change your mind like that for no reason. I want to know what happened.”

Blake sighed, tail wrapping around herself as she seemed to deflate, “this story is quite long, Ilia.”

“So is the night,” Ilia countered, “come, tell us.”

Blake looked at her, then at Weiss, who offered her her most reassuring look, “very well then.”

#rwby #prismatic ponytails #nuts and dolts #bumbleby #weiss schnee #ilia amitola #blake belladonna #medieval au #fanfic

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aussiearrow · 3 years

Text

Last Name - E. Phantasmo

A/N: Okay wow, this has been in progress for months with so many changes, so many doubts, so many other things. But it's finally here. Thanks to @bitterendbrutalizer for forever listening to my ideas the last few months and encouraging this to see the light of day sooner rather than later.

If you want to be added to the taglist on this please let me know.

This is part of a series called ' Waking Up In Vegas ' , it started out as a 2 part but as things went along it became a 3 part. So hope you guys enjoy it!

Warnings: I curse a lot so there's a few thrown in, alcohol , elp ( yes he's a warning cause look at him)

Last Name - E.Phantasmo x OFC

" Last night I got served a little bit too much of that poison baby. Last night I did things I'm not proud of and I got a little crazy. Last night I met a guy on the dance floor and I let him call me baby. "

Kal walked through the doors of the airport ready to just get this vacation started already. She must have had the week from hell with dealing with terrible people who consistently told her how she should do her job that she's only done for the past 10 years now but since it wasn't what they wanted to hear it was all wrong.

She met up with her group as she gave them all quick hugs.

"The rest of the group should be here soon." Kasey said as she led Kal over to the seat next to her as the two sat down.

"Rest of the group?" Kal asked her with a confused look," I thought it was just going to be me, you, Jay, Toni, Bea, and Juice?"

"It was until Jay over here said it out loud and a certain headbanger overheard followed by an invitation from Juice which than somehow now Will is coming too and Taiji and who knows whatever other club member or Chaos member or former at this point." Kasey said as Jay cheekily looked over at them.

"I'm sorry I got excited." Jay said.

Kal just nodded while she didn't exactly know any of them, she knew of them when she watched New Japan Pro Wrestling every week to see her friends. And sometimes they would be on the show and they seemed like they were a pretty fun group to be around.

"Okay did they say when they should be here? I think I needed to be in Vegas like yesterday." Kal said as the three of them laughed.

It was soon broken up by a loud commotion at the other end of the airport as they all looked over to see the one who Kal knew as Kenta who she met a number of times and got along with greatly. Kenta laughing as he walked away from Taiji who was picking up his suitcase off the floor with a flushed cheeks as a guy who Kal only knew by his wrestling name El Phantasmo stood there watching him and laughing. Will on the other hand made his way over to the group more so Bea.

"And that would be them." Kasey said as she greeted Will and re introduced the two.

"You're the infamous Kal we hear a lot about yet never seen was starting to think they all made you up." Will said with a laugh.

"Hell of an imagination. I'm Riley. This is Taiji and Kenta." Riley said as Kal offered them all a small smile.

"We've met." Kenta said as he offered her a hug that she returned.

"And you held out on us?" Riley said.

"Do you blame him?" Jay said from behind as he stepped forward to greet them.

The whole plane ride was filled with jokes from the group some of which Kal was included in on. Most were ones that Kal never got due to leaving wrestling to pursue her other passion that was slowly making her unhappy now. All the jokes that seemingly came from a certain group of guys.

Kenta sat next to Kal as he always made her feel welcomed in the group of wrestlers as he was the first one she met aside from Jay and Kasey.

"How's work?" Kenta asked her.

"Starting to feel more like a job if you ask me."

"Oof that bad?" Kenta asked as Kal nodded," Well than that is the last mention of work you'll hear from me this weekend?"

"Mention of what?" Kal said as Kenta laughed.

"Exactly." Kenta said.

The rest of the plan ride went more like the first half. As they got off the plane and checked into a hotel almost all of them decided on dinner and bed so that way they can spend the whole day tomorrow doing what they want to do. And just with Kal's luck her room ended up being right next to Riley and Taiji's room.

" And I don't even know his last name. My momma would be so ashamed. It started off,' Hey cutie, where you from?' And than it turned into,' Oh no! What have I done?' And I don't even know his last name. "

They all decided that it was a pretty good idea to meet up for dinner after everyone got settled in. But to no one's surprise Kasey and Jay decided that they were going to do a bit of a date night. Kal had known Kasey for years having went to school together in Florida. And being there the night she met Jay cause she wasn't sure if it was truly him or not.

When they all met up at the restaurant everyone was talking about things they wanted to do things that didn't exactly excite Kal. Her main goal this trip was to hopefully not remember a single thing by the end of it all.

"What about you Kal?" Kenta asked.

"My goal is to forget about anything I did this trip."

"I mean you definitely came to the right place for that." Bea said with a laugh.

"I'm more than okay with doing that, will you be able to hold off until tomorrow?" Will said.

"I can get started alone."

"In Vegas? Absolutely not. Kenta?" Toni said.

"I'm out, for once. I'm actually tired." Kenta said.

Kal sighed as that meant Bea, Toni, Juice, Kenta were out. Kasey and Jay were off doing whatever.

"What about me and Taiji?" Riley said.

"I wouldn't make her go through that. And while I trust Taiji you'll probably end up just as wasted as her and we'll have a hard time finding both of you in the morning." Taiji said.

"Okay what if they both go with me?" Kal said kind of surprised she even entertained the idea even in the slightest.

"I'm down." Riley said as he shot Kal a smile and a wink.

If it wasn't for Taiji agreeing Kal would have taken it all back but she really did want too enjoy her first night here.

"Than it's settled. After this the 3 of us are going to hit the town. You into strip clubs Kal?"

"Absolutely not. At least not the first night." Kal said as they all finished their dinner.

"So what do you expect to do than?" Riley asked Kal as they said their goodbyes to their friends as Riley and Taiji got the run down of making sure that they all come see them for lunch tomorrow since they certainly won't be making breakfast.

"Drink. Don't care where as long as it's not a strip club. I was thinking of starting at that new place that opened up on the strip and I'm just going to let the night tell me where else I should go." Kal said as she turned to look at them.

"We can go there." Taiji said before Riley could even respond as Kal smiled.

"I like you already." Kal said.

"What about me?" Riley said with a slight pout.

"I think I might be still warming up to you. Ask me tomorrow." Kal said as Taiji laughed as the 3 of them headed down the strip.

"Okay please don't lose anyone, not in Vegas at least." Taiji said as they all sat down at a table.

"We won't Bone Daddy." Riley said in a mocking yet playful tone.

"Who calls someone Bone Daddy?" Kal said as she gave them both a confused look.

"Just a running joke about his gimmick." Riley said with a slight shrug.

"Is there a running joke about you?" Kal said as Taiji laughed causing her to look over at him.

"This guy get a nickname that he didn't give himself? Good joke." Taiji said as Kal laughed and Riley shook his head," At least nothing that anyone says to his face."

Riley threw the closest thing on the table at him as Taiji continued to laugh as they put their drink orders in," We can let Kal here come to a decision on whether or not I get a nickname."

"I think I'd much rather join everyone else and keep it behind your back, makes things that much more interesting." Kal said as she smiled slightly when he looked at her as she sipped her drink.

"How did you meet Kenta?" Taiji asked

'"Yeah how? We've been around him for the past 2 years now, heard of you but never saw you." Riley followed up.

"I met him when Jay brought him to be my date cause I was visiting Kasey when he dropped by unexpectedly."

"You don't wrestle?" Taiji asked as Kal shook her head no.

"Trained a little, but at the same time I was pulling for my other dream job. That opportunity came knocking first and spent the last 10 years doing that."

"You don't seem too thrilled about that." Riley said.

"Cause lately I'm not, it started feeling like a job when new people starting coming in pitching ideas that I tried to pitch for years and since they are younger I guess they decided they were going to listen to them all while treating everyone else like shit." Kal said with a sigh remembering the argument that ensued at the office the night before she left.

"So you mentioned a date with Kenta?" Riley said of course bringing it back to her love life.

"Yeah, we hit it off." Kal said blankly as Riley nodded his head the playful look in his eyes slowly going away," As friends."

Taiji raised his eyebrows as another round of drinks came and went as Riley grilled Kal on her life.

"Okay that's enough. I think I entertained you guys enough. We should go back to the hotel so we can get some rest for tomorrow." Taiji said as he stood up.

Kal booed at him but still stood up knowing that he was right, the way she saw it is if she went to bed now she could get an early start tomorrow. Riley on the other hand had completely different plans and if he could just get Kal to look in his direction he could have it play out.

As the group paid and left the bar, Taiji hailed for a cab. Once one pulled up, Riley made it seem like he 'dropped' something and couldn't find it once Taiji got inside. As Kal turned to help Riley out, he waited long enough to the point the cab pulled away.

As Riley pulled his phone out of his pocket," Oops, must have been here the entire time."

"You're a mess." Kal said as she turned back to see the cab now half way down the road.

"Oh no, looks like we missed the cab. I can get us another one." Riley said as Kal heard the totally did that on purpose tone in his voice.

"Or we can go to that other bar?" Kal said with a hopeful tone.

"Lead the way." Riley said das he held his arm out for her to go first as she smiled mischievously as she walked by him and he followed closely behind.

" We left the club, right around three o'clock in the morning. His pinto sitting there in the parking lot. Well it should have been a warning. I had no clue what I was getting into so I blame it on Cuervo. Oh, where did my manners go? "

It only took a couple of more drinks before Kal found herself hanging onto Riley as his hands wrapped tightly around her waist as they left the club at 3 in the morning.

"Do we have to go back to the hotel?" Kal said as she slurred her words a little bit as she pouted up at him.

"Well where else would we go?" Riley said as he looked down at her.

Kal shrugged," We're in Vegas don't people party until like Tuesday or something?"

Riley laughed," I don't think that's the saying but I'm sure we can come up with something." Kal sat there with a pout as she didn't let go of Riley's arm.

"I'm going to need my arm if you want me to find some place we can go." Riley said.

"No you don't, you're talented with just one hand aren't you? You're cocky about everything else so." Kal trailed off slightly as her eyes wondered the strip completely missing Riley's invitation to keep messing around like that and she can find out.

"Okay let's go there's a place down the street and apparently it's one where you have to keep a close eye on whoever you come in with think you can handle that?" Riley asked her as the two began walking.

Kal tucked herself into his side some more, I think I can handle you."

"Not what I asked but good to know." Riley said as he held the door open for her as they walked in.

Neither of them were completely sure when things started but Riley got protective when Kal who said she wouldn't leave that spot while he went to the bathroom ultimately left that spot and found her way to the bar. It took him well over a half hour to get to her and when he saw a hand on the small of her back daring to go a little lower he shoved the guy.

"What the hell man?" The guy said as Kal turned around to see Riley.

"Where did you go? I lost you." Kal said as he took the spot the guy was just in.

"Chris this is my husband, the one I told you about the wrestler that can kick your ass if you touched me again."

"Husband?" Riley said at first as he slowly caught on," Oh. Did you really tell him that?" Kal nodded her head.

"Looking at you now I'm certain that I made a good choice when I decided not to listen." The guy who was named Chris said.

"Well it's a damn shame you don't believe it. And even more of a shame that I'm not out here to try and prove anything to some random mark in Vegas." Riley said as Kal put her hand on his bicep to get his attention as he looked down at the girl who decided that instead of proving by argument decided to plant a kiss on his lips.

Riley was taken by surprise at first and while he may have felt a little buzzed before, he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol that was still fresh on Kal's lips or just her in general that he now was completely over the edge and absolutely drunk.

By the time they pulled away Chris was no longer around and if you asked the two of them they didn't notice much of anyone else either.

Neither of them wanted to say anything to the other about wanting to end the night and possibly go back to the hotel together. So they did the smart thing and continued to bar hop and make out.

It wasn't until Riley pulled away once as he looked down at Kal," So I'm your husband right?" He really meant it as a joke but in their drunken state it was more of a statement.

Kal looked at her left hand as she showed him it," I don't see a ring."

"We can change that I mean we are in Vegas."

" Today I woke up thinking about Elvis somewhere in Vegas, I'm not sure how I got here or how this ring on my left hand just appeared outta no where. I gotta go, take the chips and the pinto and hit the road. They say ' What happens here, stays here, all of this will disappear. There's just one little problem. "

Kal opened her eyes and immediately shut them with a groan as she slowly regained all thoughts from the night before, but sadly got no where when her head once again started to pound.

She looked at the time and sighed, not only did she probably miss breakfast with everyone but lunch too. As she slowly sat up and put her hand on the bridge of her nose.

She was about to get out of bed when she heard the shower turn off as her eyes went wide. Hoping that the walls were just very thin. But when the door opened to Riley walking through with nothing but a towel around his waist.

"What are you doing in my room?" Kal said as she looked at him.

"Good afternoon to you too. You definitely weren't saying that last night or well this morning. Nice chest by the way, happy I get to see it when I'm sort of sober to remember it." Riley said as he smirked.

Kal rolled her eyes as she looked down to see just exactly what he was talking about as she hurried up to cover herself," I've only been in Vegas a day and I'm already making horrible decisions."

"Well if you already made one, than what's the issue with doing it again? Maybe we both can remember it this time." Riley said.

"Well it seems like you also forgot that I said the whole point of this trip was to not remember anything about it, especially this."

"I'm only joking, I'll be over here getting dressed. You might want to call Kasey. Jay called me like 20 times since this morning and when I picked up he said Kasey has been freaking out cause you weren't answering."

"Well did you tell him that you were with me so she wouldn't freak out anymore?" Kal said as she looked up at him.

"Told him that I haven't seen you since you ditched me and Taiji and didn't get in the cab with us last night." Riley said.

"You did not." Kal said as all he did to answer was shrug.

"Guess you'll find out when you call her."

"I hate you so much." Kal said as she searched for her phone.

Once she finally found it she looked at the screen to see 25 missed calls from Kasey as well as a handful of text messages and a few voicemails. Than there was some from Jay and Bea. As she sighed and pushed Kasey's contact.

It took her all of a ring to pick up," Well, well, well look who finally decides to bring herself to answer the phone."

"Ugh please don't be so loud, my head can't take it." Kal said.

"Yeah, Riley told us that once you join the living you'll probably have a massive hangover after last night. Speaking of Riley, care to explain why he was in your room earlier?" Kasey said in a teasing tone.

"I'd rather not talk about it." Kal said as Kasey laughed.

"That's okay, Taiji filled us all in. So when you're doing rolling around in the sheets together and actually want to be with the rest of us we're meeting in the lobby in a half hour to get lunch somewhere."

"I'll be there." Kal said as they said their goodbyes and hung up. As she laid back down and sighed picking up her hand to run it over her face, she gave a weird look when she felt something cold hit her face.

As she pulled her hand away from her face and looked at it. It all seemed normal until she got to her ring finger, one that was just bare last night was now no longer bare.

"No, no, no Fuck. No." Kal began to say as she quickly put a oversized shirt on and went to the bathroom completely forgetting about the man that was still very much in her room.

"Everything alright?" Riley said as he watched Kal wash her face before looking at her hand again before once again repeating what she said before," Woah hey, care to tell me what's going on?"

Kal stopped her string of curse words as she walked over to Riley and took his left hand where a ring also sat on his ring finger. One that matched hers.

"This. This is what's going on." Kal said as she brought his hand up and just about shoved it in his face.

"Well shit." Riley said as she dropped his hand and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Kal felt so many emotions as she put her head in her hands.

"Kal? We got to talk." Riley said.

"No, not right now. Right now what we have to do is get ready and meet up with our friends."

"So you're going to act like this just never happened?" Riley asked, Kal could hear the hurt in his voice.

Choosing to ignore it, " Yeah I am until we can figure out how to make it disappear. But we aren't telling anyone got it?"

"Yeah got it." Riley said as Kal closed the bathroom door just as he sat down on the bed," Lovely wife I got myself." Riley said with a sarcastic tone that was meant to be under his breath but Kal heard it loud and clear as she got in the shower.

" I don't even know my last name. Oh my momma would be so ashamed. It started off,' Hey cutie, where you from?' And then it turned into, ' Oh no! What have I done?' And I don't even know my last name."

#njpw fanfic #new japan pro wrestling fanfiction #new japan pro wrestling fanfic #el phantasmo fanfic #el phantasmo fanfiction #elp fanfic #elp fanfiction

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avengerscompound · 4 years

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Running to a Standstill - 14

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 3331

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut (MM, frottage, oral sex, anal fingering)

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 14

Steve woke before both you and Bucky. He would normally get up and go for a run, but there was something too inviting about staying curled up in bed with both of you to resist.

Bucky had ended up in the middle, cuddled around you while Steve spooned him. Seeing him now, wrapped around you, reminded Steve of when they were still boys and hadn’t acknowledged how they felt. Steve would often wake up with Bucky draped over him. Steve had never liked feeling that small. He wondered if Bucky had liked being able to hold someone like that.

The bedroom door opened and a bleary-eyed looking Geo cuddling his tablet. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and just stared at the bed.

“Hey, G,” Steve said, softly. “You wanna climb in here with us?”

Geo shook his head and point at the door before shoving his thumb back in his mouth.

Steve smiled and untangled himself from Bucky. It wasn’t as easy as he thought, and Bucky grumbled and shifted closer to you. It was interesting. He’d walked in on Bucky sleeping a few times since getting him back and Bucky had always jolted awake and gone into a defensive position, prepared to be attacked. Yet here he was, deep asleep and not waking for either someone entering the room or being shuffled around. Steve wondered if Bucky was just more attuned to what was happening and who was with him, or he was just so relaxed that his usual expectations of being attacked had just failed to be set off.

Steve followed Geo out into the living room and the little boy went straight to the kitchen and pointed up at the cupboard where Steve kept his cereal. “You want some breakfast, buddy?”

Geo nodded and pointed again and Steve opened the cupboard. The array of cereal had definitely expanded since you moved in. He used to have granola, corn flakes, and cheerios. Now there were Honey Bunches of Oats, Rice Krispies, and Lucky Charms in there too. “Which one do you want, G?”

Geo still wasn’t talking. He just pointed again and Steve started to touch the boxes in the hope that Geo might nod when he touched the one he wanted.

“Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY announced. “Geo wanted me to tell you he wants Lucky Charms.”

Steve chuckled and got the box from the cupboards. “Thanks, FRIDAY,” he said. “You not ready to talk yet, Gee?”

Geo shook his head, his thumb firmly planted in his mouth.

Steve grabbed a plastic bowl and poured the cereal into it. “That’s okay. You don’t have to talk to anyone.”

He added milk to the cereal, grabbed a spoon, and set Geo up at the coffee table with a box of apple juice. He turned on some cartoons and Geo just sat quietly watching Scooby-Doo as he ate. Steve went back into the kitchen to try and figure out what he’d make for everyone else. He wasn’t really much of a cook. Or a cook at all. He liked to joke he could make a peanut butter sandwich and it would end up burned. While he considered what he could handle that was more than just toast and cereal, he put on the coffee.

You and Bucky emerged from the bedroom still looking like you were both not quite awake. Bucky came straight to the kitchen while you went and kissed Geo good morning.

“Were you trying to make breakfast?” Bucky asked.

“I was thinking about it,” Steve said. “It’s the thought that counts right?”

“You tell that to my stomach, pal,” Bucky teased and started pulling things out of the fridge.

“Thanks for getting Geo his breakfast,” you said, coming into the kitchen. “What are we making?”

“I was thinking omelets,” Bucky said. “We can put what we like in them.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed and grabbed a bowl and started cracking eggs into it. “So I was thinking…”

Steve looked over at you. There was an edge to your voice that told him you were overthinking things again.

“I’m really worried about Geo starting to see you as … well dads I guess,” you said. You spoke quietly, clearly not wanting Geo to overhear. “At least not until we’re all absolutely sure this is it for all of us. And it’s far too early for that. I was already concerned about him forming too strong bonds with everyone here. I don’t want him to start getting separation anxiety on top of everything else.”

“So what were you thinkin’, hon?” Bucky asked, looking up from the cutting he was doing.

“Well, I’m staying here because it’s not safe too. But ideally, I wouldn’t be living with Steve,” you explained. “I’m wondering if I should start sleeping in Geo’s room again. Not always. Just… so he doesn’t get the image of us in bed together connected with the way parents sleep in the same bed in TV shows. You know?”

Steve nodded, though he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“I think maybe you shouldn’t sleep over all the time either, Buck. Just … you know?” You said.

Bucky nodded too and rubbed your back. “I get it.”

“But I think this could be good for us too, because… I think we should also spend time together as couples. Particularly you two. I think you have to … explore some things together without me,” you explained. “You know what I mean?”

Steve couldn’t fault your logic. There had been so much he and Bucky had missed out on and even though he’d enjoyed the sex he’d had with you both, there were probably things they needed to try one-on-one too. It was good to make sure the bonds with each other were as strong as the bonds as a trio were too. “It makes sense,” he agreed.

“Good,” you said, sounding relieved. “So I don’t know, maybe some nights we all sleep here, some nights it’s just me and Bucky, and some night you guys sleepover in Bucky’s apartment. And we just… take turns with this being Geo’s home. Does that … is that okay?”

“It’s a really good idea,” Bucky agreed. “And trust me, the last thing we want to do is hurt Geo. So we’ll be careful.”

“Thanks, Bucky,” you said. “I mean, I want this to work…”

“Of course you do,” Steve said. “We all do, but you’re right to protect him.”

“So, uh…” Bucky said, getting a pan out. “How do we decide?”

“Yeah, that’s tricky,” you said. “Don’t want people to feel left out, so how about tonight, that is if you’re both available, you guys go on a first date. You have a lot of time to make up.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?” Steve asked.

You shook your head. “Geo and I can watch a movie and have an early night.”

“Alright, Buck? What do you think? Want to go out for dinner with me?” Steve asked.

Bucky smiled. It was genuine and Steve could see the love he felt reflected back at him. “I’d love to, Stevie.”

Steve took Bucky to a jazz club in the end. It was dark and loud and very difficult to talk, but Steve didn’t feel like he needed to talk to Bucky. He and Bucky had talked and talked and talked and talked. It was time for all the other things they’d missed out on. The holding hands on the table. The sharing bites of each other’s food. The cuddling. The stolen kisses. He needed to have the dance. He wanted the dance he had failed to get in all his years on earth.

The jazz club was perfect because of how dark and loud it was. He didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or having people’s eyes on him. The food was good but not outside his comfort zone, so he didn’t have to worry about the wrong choice. Most importantly, he could dance to music that was familiar to him with the man he had been in love with since 1935.

Steve had chosen familiar foods. It was food he’d imagined would have seemed so fancy to him back when he was a kid. A shrimp cocktail for starters and rib-eye steak for his entree. He even ordered a martini, like he was playing at being a spy and this was the persona he needed to fit.

Bucky was a little more daring, ordering grilled asparagus with goat’s cheese to start and mussels served in a garlic and white wine broth for his entree.

It almost didn’t matter in the end though. They sat close to each other on their tiny table and they switched plates back and forth as they ate. Steve got all the things he’d imagined when he was young when he thought about going out on a date with Bucky. Only no one cared that it was two men sitting there, holding hands and stealing kisses. The floor was always packed with people swing dancing.

They were finishing up their meals when Bucky leaned into him. “Are you actually going to ask me to dance, pal?”

Steve smiled and his face flushed. “Will you lead? I still don’t know how.”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Bucky said, standing and offering Steve his hand. “I’ll lead.”

Bucky led Steve around the dance floor, spinning him and dipping him. The more they danced the more comfortable Steve felt and the better he got. Until they were both laughing and jiving together in the crowd of people.

The music changed from something up-tempo to something slow and sexy. For a moment Steve considered sitting down. It was one thing to jitterbug with Bucky, it was another completely to slow dance with him in front of all these people. Bucky didn’t seem to question it for a second, he just pulled Steve close and put his hands on Steve’s hips. They slowly swayed together on the dance floor, cheek-to-cheek. The smell of Bucky’s cologne, warm and woody, mixed with the salt on his skin, seemed to cut through the smell of sweat and alcohol and cooking that otherwise dominated the room. It was just him and Bucky, and while part of him wished you were here too to be part of this, he appreciated that it was just Bucky. It felt right.

“I want you to take me home,” Bucky whispered against Steve’s ear. Normally Bucky saying something like that would make Steve worry he was in the midst of a panic attack. There was something completely different about it this time. Something dark and sexy.

Steve took his hand and led him off the dance floor. He settled the check as quickly as he could and the two made their way back out and flagged down a cab.

Bucky kept nosing at Steve’s cheek and trying to initiate a kiss. Steve wasn’t ready for that yet. Not so publicly. It wasn’t Bucky. He’d be the same with you too. Public displays of affection made him feel awkward.

“Stevie,” Bucky teased, nipping at Steve’s earlobe.

“Just be patient,” Steve said, nudging Bucky.

The car pulled up at the front of the Avengers Tower and Steve paid while Bucky tried to drag him out of the back seat.

When they got into the elevator Bucky pushed him up against the wall and kissed him hungrily. Steve couldn’t stop smiling into Bucky’s lips even as the other man fumbled at his belt and dragged him close so their hips touched.

The elevator opened and Bucky practically dragged Steve down to his apartment. “So eager, Buck,” Steve teased as he let Bucky pull him through the door into his apartment.

Bucky’s apartment was always impossibly clean, but pretty homey. The couch was a soft black leather but most everything else was timber. A mixture of stained ash, cedar, and white paint. He had art on the walls. Mostly photography or vector art of cars or motorcycles, but there was a sketch Steve had done of the view down the street from Bucky’s fire escape. It was a recent one and done by memory. Something Steve had drawn in the hopes of prodding Bucky’s memory. There was also a calendar on the wall set on the wrong month with a print of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers.

“I just -“ he looked over to the bedroom. “-you know?”

Steve laughed and began to unbutton Bucky’s shirt. “It’s not like we did that very long ago.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, grabbing the waistband of Steve’s pants and dragging him toward the bedroom. “And it was good. And now I want to do it again.”

Bucky started to kiss Steve’s neck as he unfastened his pants and Steve pushed Bucky’s shirt off. Steve trailed his fingers along the scarring that connected Bucky’s arm to his shoulder. Bucky flinched and took Steve’s hand and moved it down to his side.

“Sorry,” Steve whispered, kissing Bucky’s neck. “Does it hurt?”

Bucky shook his head. “No… well yeah, always. But not more when you touch it. I just hate it. Don’t want to be reminded of it now.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said. He got it. It was a constant brutal reminder of what had happened to him. What he’d lost and how he’d been changed. Steve got sensitive about people pointing out his looks after he had the serum when they ignored him so much before it. The arm and the scarring would be much worse than that.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said and brought his lips to Steve’s. They kissed passionately. Their lips moved against each other’s, as Bucky pulled Steve back towards the bed. Steve unfastened Bucky’s fly and pushed his pants down. When Bucky was down to just his boxer briefs, he pushed Steve back onto the bed and straddled his lap, kissing him hungrily as he ground his hips against Steve’s.

Steve was still fully dressed and his cock began to strain against his pants. He could feel Bucky’s erection with each roll of the other man’s hips. It rubbed against Steve’s and a little wet patch began to form on Bucky’s underwear.

Steve ran his hands down Bucky’s back and gripped his ass, pulling him firmer against him. “Fuck, Steve… I want you…” Bucky groaned.

“I’m yours, Buck,” Steve whispered.

Bucky began to frantically undress Steve, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and the buckle on his belt. Steve lay back and tangled his hands in Bucky’s hair, letting him take the lead. When Bucky had finally stripped Steve of his clothes, he looked down into his eyes and ran his metal hand over Steve’s chest.

Steve was achingly hard but a little unsure what to do next and it looked like Bucky might be feeling a little lost too. Steve pushed Bucky’s boxers down and wrapped his hand around both their cocks and began to pump them in his hand as they were pressed together.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Bucky groaned. “That feels so good.”

Steve rolled them both over so he was on top. “I want you to feel good,” he whispered and began to kiss Bucky’s neck. Bucky reached over to his bedside table and fumbled around as Steve began to kiss his way down Bucky’s chest. There was a crash as the drawer fell to the ground and Steve looked up startled to see Bucky holding a tube of lubricant up almost triumphantly.

“What do you want?” Steve asked, taking it from Bucky.

“Stretch me,” Bucky said, the hint of pleading in his voice.

Steve nodded and slicked his fingers with the thick gel. Bucky wrapped his arms around his knees, lifting them so Steve had better access to his ass. Steve teased his fingers over Bucky’s tight hole and very slowly began to ease one inside. Bucky closed his eyes and his head fell back with his lips slightly parted. A soft low moan escaped his lips and Steve couldn’t help but admire how beautiful Bucky looked when he let himself enjoy something.

Steve dropped his head down, pulling Bucky’s cock into his mouth. He licked a salty bead of pre-come off the head of Bucky’s cock, savoring the taste of the man he’d been in love with for so long and appreciating the fact he was finally getting to have this. He eased his finger in deeper, moving it in and out as he slowly bobbed his head up and down on Bucky’s cock, testing his own limits as he tested Bucky’s.

Bucky gave himself to his pleasure. Relaxing into it. He squirmed under Steve and moaned loudly. It was happening very quickly. Steve had only gotten his finger into one knuckle when Bucky’s cock began to throb in Steve’s mouth. Steve kept the same steady pace. He wanted Bucky to enjoy this. No pain. No shame. Just pleasure. He moved his finger in and out, pushing it in a little more each time but never forcing it. If Bucky clenched, he’d pull back, when he relaxed, Steve would push in deeper.

He took Bucky’s cock deeper into his throat, gagging a little as he did. His mouth stretched around his thick shaft but he enjoyed it. His own cock was hard and leaking as he pleasured Bucky. Bucky’s moans became panting and his hips started to buck up into Steve’s mouth.

“Steve,” he moaned. “Stevie, I’m gonna come.”

Steve moved a little faster and sucked a little harder and with a loud moan, Bucky arched his back and came, his cock releasing straight down Steve’s throat. There was so much, and Steve swallowed it all, saving the thick and salty mess. He moaned as he pulled off and slid his fingers from Bucky’s ass.

Bucky almost jumped up pulling Steve into a passionate and frantic kiss. “Fuck, Stevie,” he mumbled between kisses. “I wanna do you. Can I?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, Bucky’s lips still firmly on his. “Yeah, Buck. I’d like that.”

Bucky guided Steve onto his back and scrambled down Steve’s body. He quickly slicked the fingers with the lube and dropped down, sucking Steve’s cock. Steve groaned at the warm, wet pressure of Bucky’s mouth. He kept his eyes locked on him, enjoying the view as Bucky sucked up and down his cock. Bucky massaged Steve’s asshole as he bobbed his head up and down on his cock. It sent a warm tingled running through Steve, and his head felt pleasantly fuzzy with it. There was a slight burn as Bucky’s finger eased in. Steve hadn’t been expecting how completely good that would feel, even the slight pain that happened the deeper Bucky pushed his finger was the good kind, like after a good workout. He groaned and began to roll his hips up into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky let him push in deeper and started adding a second finger. The burn was more but Steve enjoyed that too. He moaned loudly, letting himself really experience it.

As Bucky’s fingers moved deeper and faster in and out of Steve’s ass, Steve began to pant and his cock twitched and throbbed. Bucky moaned as it began to leak precum down his throat. Bucky’s fingers touched on this sweet spot inside Steve and Steve gasped and jerked his hips. “Fuck!” I cursed, and he came hard and without warning. His orgasm seemed to start in his gut, something he’d never experienced before. The intensity of it shocked him. Bucky choked and pulled back, spilling Steve’s come on his stomach.

Bucky pulled his finger out and collapsed down on the bed beside Steve.

“That was…” Steve hummed.

“Mmm,” Bucky agreed.

Steve sat up and kissed Bucky’s stomach. “Let’s take a shower.”

Bucky smiled and got up with him. As they went into the bathroom Steve felt warm and grateful that you’d given this time alone. You were right, you all needed that. But still, he was looking forward to tomorrow when it would be all three of you again.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky #stucky x reader #captain america #the winter soldier #captain america fanfic #the winter soldier fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #running to a standstill

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intheseautumnhands · 3 years

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More Sorting Hat Chats

All right, I have had Daughter stuck in my head all day, and I want to talk about Abigail Hobbs.

(I basically always want to talk about Abigail Hobbs, she is my favorite television character and would make a good running for my singular favorite character ever if I could ever pick one. If you are considering if this is an invitation, please take it as one. But, I digress.)

As I can tell, there’s been discussion of Will and Hannibal’s sortings, and nobody else in the show. I’d love to dig in and do the whole rest of the show, but I don’t feel like I’ve rewatched recently enough to do everybody. I can always talk about Abigail, though!

As I continue to be exceedingly wordy as I do these things (whoops. I tried...), under a cut it goes again.

Let’s start on the Primary. We know pretty clearly that a lot of what Abigail has done has been focused on survival above all. We know for a fact that her darkest actions were: we see her kill Boyle in self-defense, and when she’s discussing helping her father, she says outright, “I knew it was them or me.” That... doesn’t actually help narrow it down, of course, because none of the houses have a claim on survival, and you could come at that feeling from any start point. But what it points to for me is that whatever her Primary is, it’s Burnt, and probably pretty badly. She hasn’t had the ability to come at decisions from a standpoint of what’s right, or what’s good for anyone else, or hell, even what’s good for her -- it’s all about what will get me through this alive.

When she does talk about what she’s done, it all feels very instinctive: “I’m a monster.” “Some places are stained now. Some people too. I know I am.” Even this: “I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn’t feel ugly when I killed Nick Boyle. I felt good. That’s why it was so easy to lie about it.” There doesn’t seem to be any weighing or rationalizing behind it, and every time she does try to come off as doing things from a rational place, it feels extremely put on -- that first scene after she wakes up, when she talks to Alana, for example, and Alana immediately sees through her.

So, not a Bird. She could be a Lion, instinctively knowing that what she’s done for her own safety is wrong and trying to fight that feelings -- it would fit with her judgements of herself, and with how she talks to Will about killing, trying to find someone else to rationalize it for her. But: I’m going to argue that’s she’s an extremely Burned Badger Primary.

First: why Badger, not Snake, when she’s shut herself down until she’s the only person she’s looking out for and that’s basically the original definition of a Petrified Snake? Because Abigail isn’t shutting herself off from connections in general. As soon as Hannibal reaches out, Abigail doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t try to back away from that connection; she leans into it, tells him about her nightmares and trusts him when he asks her. She pushes Will away -- until she’s reassured that he’ll accept enough of what she’s done that she doesn’t have to, and then she’s so quick to accept him and talk to him about it that she almost reveals her other secret in the very next conversation we see them have. She even opens up a little to Freddie, despite the fact that she has to know that’s a bad idea.

That conversation is also one of the reasons I’m going to call Badger, not Lion -- specifically, her view on Nick Boyle sounds so hard like either depersonalizing him to make herself feel better, or trying and failing to depersonalize him to make herself feel better. “I blame Nick Boyle for Nick Boyle’s death. He killed Marissa, he got what was coming to him.” We the audience already know this isn’t true to some extent -- we’ve seen Boyle crop up in Abigail’s dream, among the girls she clearly still feels guilty about, but it doesn’t feel like something she’s saying entirely for Freddie’s benefit either. It’s so emphatic, and it’s not a lie that will necessarily make her look better -- it makes so much more sense if it’s what she wants to believe.

And then Freddie blows it up, reframes it all and makes the guilt flood back in. And it could be either Lion or Badger -- he’s no longer such a bad guy, so having killed him is no longer something she can even try to frame as okay. But, even if Boyle wasn’t a killer, it was still self-defense. Reframing who he was doesn’t necessarily reframe what happened, and the fact that it still changes her feelings on it so thoroughly is part of what makes me go to Badger instead.

She doesn’t react to Hannibal the way I imagine a Lion with all that guilt would, either. Even after she knows for certain that he’s a killer, in the 3x09 flashbacks -- even when she’s outright saying that she’s not sure it’s smart to trust or accept him, she’s not really that guarded with him. If she’s a Lion, her talk with Freddie about Boyle and her guilt for the part she played under duress in her father’s killings speaks to some pretty intense gut feelings about killing and people who have done it. I see absolutely none of that in how she talks to Hannibal immediately after he confesses to killing more people than her father.

(There is some debate about how accurate the 3x09 flashbacks are, I believe, whether they’re closer to Will’s hallucinations of Abigail than actual memories; I do think some of the details may be embellished or changed by Hannibal’s memories, but I’m going to assume they’re more accurate than not to make this easier on myself.)

There’s also what she says in the therapy flashback, and yes, it’s clearly led and influence by Hannibal, but it still appears to be her words and her emotions:

He was as good to me as he knew how to be. Hunting with him was the best time I ever had.

And there’s the simple fact that this is the tact Hannibal takes with her, over and over, which I think can be read into. Hannibal is perceptive, very good at reading and manipulating people, and over and over again, when he wants a way to connect to or manipulate Abigail, he puts himself in a position where she can mentally link him with her father and her family. The tea and the dinner in 1x04, the dinner with Freddie and comforting Abigail in the kitchen in 1x09, “You accepted your father. Would it be so difficult to accept me?” -- it’s the tact he takes with Will too, to encourage his desire to bond with Abigail, pushing him to think of the three of them as family. It makes sense if it’s because he can feel both of them looking for that connection, and knows it’ll serve his desires and plans best if they find it with him and each other.

(I don’t want to go into this too long because I’ve already talked a lot, but there’s also something so fascinating about the idea of Abigail, whose trauma is about fathers and family and girls like her, whose downfall is in who she gives her trust to, being a Badger. And that’s not, y’know, a reason to sort her that way -- but it does add a really interesting layer to her if she is one.)

Okay. Let’s see if I can do the Secondary in under a thousand words this time.

Abigail is trying so hard to perform Snake, or maybe a really fast Bird. She’s trying to manipulate, to show everything what they need to see to want to protect or help her, to have a plan, to be one step ahead of everybody else.

And she’s really, really bad at it. Because Abigail has a loud, screaming Lion Secondary that hates every second of what she’s doing. All the decisions that give her any sense of control, all the decisions that seem to come from what she wants to do instead of what she thinks is best -- going back home to confront what happened, unburying Boyle, going back with Will again in 1x12, even, to some extent, agreeing to work with Freddie -- are impulsive, and involve facing the issues instead of trying to bury them. And the biggest one of all, the thing she does to feel like she has control, unburying Boyle -- it’s the worst possible thing she could do, to try and keep herself safe, but not having to wait for it to happen, to be able to confront it head-on, is the part that matters to her.

She’s just really bad at lying in general, too. Every time she’s around somebody she likes or who knows the smallest part of her secret, she says something that hints about what else is going on. Again, the first time we see her talk to Will alone after she’s stopped trying to push him away, she almost gives it all away: “I wish I had killed him. For killing my mom. For killing all those girls, for making me...” Then there’s what she says to Jack while standing over Nick Boyle’s body, her speech about how she survived -- she’s trying to dismiss suspicion, but she can’t help some honesty leaking out even though it does nothing to help her sound innocent. Alana pegs her as trying to manipulate people and trying to be too practical in their very first conversation, that one that seems so far removed from what she’s like in private, with people she does trust to any extent.

It’s also notable that even with all her manipulation and masks being so see-through to everyone around her, she still ends up with some of that reaction she’s looking for anyway, and not just in Will’s crusade to protect her -- Alana says she can’t help but care about her as well. (You could easily argue Freddie seems to have some extent of genuine feeling towards her as well, sympathy if nothing else, though that’s more debatable. Hannibal is entirely debatable as to whether he has genuine feelings for her or not, but if you view their relationship that way, there’s that as well.) Lion Secondary’s accidental inspiration maybe, twisted and warped by that manipulative performance and the situation altogether?

In conclusion: Badly Burnt Badger Primary / Lion Secondary (probably at least somewhat burnt, or at least repressed) with inexpert Snake and Bird Performances layered on top.

#sorting hat chats #sortinghatchats #abigail hobbs #one day i will work out how to do these in a reasonable length i'm sorry #it all feels important! to explain the thought process behind it!#but then they end up so very long

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shadowsfiguresfigments-blog · 3 years

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A good place to die Chapter 24

Warning: Harsh language, violence

It's not a long one - need to get back into writing. Enjoy nonetheless!

Chapter 24

Auntie listened to me and I was alone once more with broken memories and the last remains of Mr. Shanks’ life. Determined not to have to go to that place to often, I put my everything into decluttering and cleaning. When I was finally able to properly reach some of the windows and wiped them down I was almost proud of myself. The additional light coming in made the process easier, and when Auntie finally joined me, she praised my work quite a bit. I was relieved to find her much more energetic, and together the time passed much more quickly.

We made much more progress than I’d anticipated, and by the time we called quits, the entire hallway was full of garbage bags. Neither of us had the energy to take them down, however, and Auntie’s breathing sounded quite labored, so we decided to simply return home. I glanced at my phone, but I had neither missed calls nor messages. Despite my best effort to hide my annoyance, Auntie realized right away what was going on.

“Is he giving you the silent treatment?”

I sighed. “Sort of, yes.” My stomach chose that moment to start cramping again, and I coiled my arms around it. She misunderstood that gesture.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare him away. He’s welcome to visit you anytime, if he just uses the front door. You tell him that.”

“Yeah, I think yesterday was probably just a bit much. Thank you, though.” If only you knew…

“How about you invite him for dinner? As a peace offering?”

I really didn’t feel like going over it again, so I quickly changed the subject.

“I will. Do you think we’ll be done by the time Bee gets out of the hospital?”

“If you’ll keep this up, I’m sure of it.” Her voice sounded cheerful, but her smile was off. I grabbed her arm and turned her towards me.

“Auntie, what’s the matter with you?”

Her indignation was just as forced as her smile.

“That’s no way to talk to me, young lady.”

“Be serious. You’re sick or something, and you should see a doctor.” I hated myself for what I said next, but I couldn’t help it. “You’re worrying me.”

Oh, the irony – how many times did we have that very same talk, just with our roles reversed? Her face fell immediately.

“I’ve just worked a lot, that’s all. But there’s good news, too. We finally got another waitress, and I won’t have to do double shifts. She’ll start next week.”

I took her hand and squeezed it. “You know, when I’ve finished school and the shop’s running, you won’t have to work there anymore.”

Auntie stared at me, then she squeezed my hand back. I could see tears in her eyes.

“Thanks, child.”

When we got home Auntie disappeared into the kitchen, and I tried to call Penny. He didn’t pick up, so I just texted him, but it was getting really annoying. I felt pretty overwhelmed – my worry for Auntie mixed with the anxiety over what had happened the day before was a strong emotional cocktail, and I didn’t feel equipped to deal with it. Once more I wondered if my old zombie self wouldn’t have handled the situation easier.

We had just sat down for dinner when the doorbell rang. I was so caught up in unwanted memories of what happened between Penny and I that I didn’t understand until I opened the door.

Benny-Penny stood before me, looking rather sheepishly.

I couldn’t help myself, I had to hug him. Auntie appeared behind me, and welcomed him warmly. Penny’s muscles tensed beneath my hands, and I quickly let go. Was he still confused about the day before? His face didn’t betray anything.

“I’m happy you could come, and to meet you properly.” Auntie’s cheerful voice interrupted my brooding thoughts, and I stepped aside to make room for her. I could feel the blood rushing to my face and my ears, and fled to the kitchen to serve another portion for Penny.

When both of them entered, they were chatting rather pleasantly about Derry, and “Benny’s life” so far. His replies were swift and calm, not suspicious at all, and there was no trace of his usual over-the-top cadence. He also didn’t really look at me.

I felt like a stranger had entered our home.

“Well, young man, I hope you like mac’n cheese.” I knew auntie well enough to know she was a little stressed over the simplicity of the dish in face of a guest, as well as over the worn-down look of our little kitchen. If you only knew where he lived.

Regardless, she sat him down, and I could see the tiniest trace of disgust in his eyes – “Cardboard, disgusting” – but he bravely dug in and even managed some compliments, putting a big smile on auntie’s face. Thankfully the tension went somewhat away, and I told Penny of our efforts with the flat, which led us to the topic of the store opening. The entire situation was so absurdly normal I almost started wondering whether I just had imagined Penny’s attack.

Before long, however, auntie started yawning badly, and announced she would go to bed. I told her to leave the dishes to me, and that Benny and I would take walk. Again, she didn’t even question that – what teenage girl “takes a walk” with a young man, anyhow? When she had left us, I turned to Penny, and found him still not looking at me.

“Okay, do you mind if we somewhere else?”

He shook his head, a familiar jingling bell sound, which I took for a somewhat good sign. But when I asked him if he wanted to change into something non-human, he shook his head again, and avoided my eyes. I nearly exploded.

I grabbed his hands, ripping my jacket off its coat-hanger, and marched out of the door, dragging Benny-Penny behind me. A quick glance around me told me the street was empty, but I still waited till we were a bit further away from our house before I let loose.

“Will you please fucking tell me what’s the matter here.” My voice was shaking, which angered me even further.

He remained quiet.

“Penny, whatever happened yesterday, I don’t understand, but I want to. Has anything similar ever happened to you?”

He mumbled something that could have been a “no”.

“Was it the animal meat?”

Another head shake, with bells again.

“Is it my period?”

Penny finally looked up, and his eyes had turned slightly crimson again. But he just stared at me.

I had it.

“Listen, either you start talking to me or I’m gonna call quits. I can’t deal with this. I haven’t had my period in ages, I’m full of hormones, auntie’s probably really sick, I got the opening of the store coming up, I need to get the apartment ready for Bee, and you won’t fucking talk to me. How can I understand you if you don’t open your fucking mouth? I don’t even understand myself.” I had started shouting. All the pent up frustration spilled out of me.

“You’re not the only one who’s not been in this situation before. You’re something like a god, and I’m just a stupid human, so the least you could do is explain yourself. I told you, I’m not good at relationships. I never had one before, and of course I had to fall in love with some unearthly… thing, ‘cause everything else would have been what normal people do, and I’m not fucking normal.”

Penny whipped around and grabbed my shoulders hard. I had upset him again, but at least I got a reaction. His fingers dug into my flesh, and his face melted a little.

“I don’t know. I don’t understand. What do you expect?” He shouted, too, and his voice changed with every word, dropping lower and lower.

“You wander into my lair, you won’t leave me the fuck alone, you make me feel all those weird things, and then you expect me to act rationally? Stupid human, that’s why I hate your fucking species so much. So self-important.” Drool sprayed all over me, and our angry faces got closer and closer.

“It’s not like I chose to end up with you. You could kill me anytime, but you didn’t do it, so sorry for still being around.”

“Yeah, because it’s my fault I can’t, right. You were the one who showed me all those new things. I was perfectly fine before. I could wake up, feed and have some fun here, then go to hibernation again. Everything was just fine.”

“Oh yeah, that’s why you were awake when I found you ten years ago. That’s why you were scared out of your wits by a little girl.”

“I should just eat you and be done.” His face ripped in half, the familiar tunnel of shark teeth opened before me, just an inch away from my nose.

“Then just do it.”

And this time, he did.

#pennywise #pennywise fanfiction #agptd

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chubbyreaderchan · 4 years

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Technically No | Jacob Black x witch!Reader | Twilight/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Crossover| 1

jacob is over 18+ in this as well as reader! It's also a slight modern au because technology makes life easier man. And no I don't know what timeline this is. It's after Jacob phases and before Buffy dies again. So you might see Glory in this. Also it’s under a cut because this introduction/beginning is super long.

"Did you make it okay?" Buffy asked over the phone.

"Yes, Buff. I'm in my new house. I am going to my new job Monday" (Y/n) said with a soft sigh as she leaned against her new counter, having just moved from one small town to the other.

Sunnydale to Forks.

"Good. I'm glad you are safe." (Y/n) smiled a small yet sort of sad smile at the prospect of leaving the scoobs but there was a job offer in Forks that was just to good for her to not take and she was damn lucky to find a house for rent. She wondered if it was haunted. Not that was a big deal for someone who went to high school on top of a literal hellmouth.

"How's Dawny?" (Y/n) also knew that Dawn's first day back to high school was coming up as well as Buffy's first day of college for the year. "And did you get your course schedule yet?" She stated sitting in the empty living room floor eating her favorite fast food meal. Her moving truck wouldn't be there with her stuff for at least another day or two.

It wasn't exactly a house full of stuff yet, of course. She had just gone from living with her parents to on her own within a flash it seemed. It was as if the universe was pulling and placing her right in the middle of now where Washington.

"Yeah but I didn't get some of the courses I wanted. Have to try next semester." She sighed over the phone. Was it normal to talk to someone you had just left the day before as if you hadn't seen them in months? Maybe not but a lot was happening as the end of summer was coming to fruition. "Dawn is excited to go back to school"

"Interesting... She wasn't yesterday." Buffy sighed over the phone as her friend teased her. "Oh! So I'm going to try to get some essentials tomorrow!" She said suddenly remembering what she called Buffy about in the first place. "What color do you think I should decorate my kitchen in? Green? Red?" Buffy almost laughed again at one of her closest friends.

"You'll know when you actually go to the store. It's not like I can see the house." "Not yet! But you all are going to come visit me some day!" She laughed a bit. Her phone buzzed at her to charge. "Hey... Buffy. I gotta go. Phones is dying. Tell Willow and everyone I miss them."

"Will do." With that, the phone was hung up and placed on its charger.

(Y/n) sighed picking up her trash and began the work to make the floor as comfortable as possible until she could actually buy a decent bed.

The next morning, (Y/n) woke up at a fair hour for a Saturday and took a shower. It was nice to wash out some of the travel and sleep stink off before she slipped on her clothes for the day. Then she went to grab her phone as well as keys and her wallet. There was no way she could sleep on the floor for one more day and eating fast food everyday wasn't exactly a healthy option even if she did just arrive in town.

Sure she was still tired from the plane ride but she would stay tired. She need to find at least an air mattress. The car ride was short, it was nice. Familiar. It wasn't a huge change from one small town to another... Minus the demons and vampires. She hoped. It was simple enough to find the small plaza that had a few small shops and even a diner within walking distance of each other.

It was not even remotely difficult to find the things she oh so desperately needed. It was wonderful. (Y/n) was even able to add to her growing collection of magical artifacts when she stumbled into an antique shop. She thanked the gods that her family had loaned her a bit of cash to help her get by until she was fully working again.

Her day was going great... That was until she was hit with pangs of hunger. 'Did I even eat breakfast?' she asked herself before glancing at the time and gasping. She had been out a lot longer than she had realized.

Didn't she see a diner? She walked to her rental car and started a vague drive. Ah-ha! There was a diner.

She pulled in and was seated quite quickly. It wasn't long before her meal was ordered and her attention was drawn to her phone as she waited. There was a text message from Anya complaining about an argument she and Xander were having. (Y/n) laughed softly before responding with her opinion.

While she was distracted she didn't notice the small group enter. Especially a young man who had a slight staring problem. His eyes were locked on (Y/n) as she fiddled around with her phone. The young man was known by most as Jacob Black. A good kid who was madly in love with Bella Swan, his childhood friend.

"Jake... You okay?" Bella another member of the small group asked with concern on her face. An older man in a wheelchair who was previously chatting with the other older man in the group looked at the one named Jacob. A small knowing smile flashed over his features as he looked at his son.

'It's about damn time' Billy the man in the wheelchair thought. "Jake!" Bella's voice called him again, finally snapping the dark haired young man from his thoughts.

(Y/n) who was finally served food sat her phone down finally not even noticing the set of eyes on the back of her head.

"Is she-?" Bella whispered to Jacob just low enough for her father to not hear. "I... Think so... I think..."

"Son..." It was Billy who joined the conversation. "If you don't go talk to her... I will." Jacob's eyes went wide. How embarrassing would that be? His dad talking to his imprint before he could.

Jacob looked at the girl happily eating her dinner and playing around with her technology. Then she giggled. Oh God.

How could it be that just the day before he was trying to convince Bella not to turn into a vampire? That he was so madly and so deeply in love with the vampire girl that he defied Sam his pack leader for turn into dust and be replaced instantly by a young woman he hadn't even spoken to?

Jacob was so distracted by his thoughts he barely caught his father moving to go introduce himself. "No, wait. Dad. I'll go." He quickly stood up and wandered over to the table nervously. What was he going to say? What if she didn't like him? What if he said something dumb?

"Hey I'm Jacob." He said awkwardly, causing her to jump from what she was doing. Her face scrunched up in confusion before she finally looked up. Their eyes locked and it felt like everything stopped. Her heart beat hard against her ribcage at the very tall and dark haired man before her. "You looked lonely. Uhm. I know we just got here. But..." What was he doing? Inviting her to sit with his dad and his dad's best friend for dinner? That's weird isn't it? Especially since he was going to have dinner with a girl he was in love with.

"I'd love to join you." Why did she just agree to crash someone else's dinner? It looked like a family affair of sorts. "I'm (Y/n)!" She suddenly remembered her name. It felt like her face was on fire. He shifted from slightly nervous to having a large smile on his face. How sweet.

He even helped by carrying her stuff to the table. "This is my dad Billy. His friend Charlie and his daughter Bella." Jacob introduced allowing her to sit down. Something in the back of her mind told her that this was weird.

Something was off.

It felt... Magical. She knew magical.

But then Charlie began to talk about how he was a sheriff and the weirdness seemed to disappear. "So...where are you from?" Charlie asked trying to judge if this new girl was going to cause him trouble later. "Oh. Sunnydale," she paused. "California. Also graduated from Sunnydale high." She explained with a small smile.

Maybe it wasn't so bad joining their little dinner. It was nice having people to talk to, especially when one was so new. "What do you like to do Jake?" She said looking over at him before taking a bite of food.

"Oh, uh. I buy and flip cars right now. It's more of a side hustle really." He smiled at her. "Really?" She said with a smile on her lips. "Because the car I'm in is just a rental... If you find anything good will you think of me? I can't pay the rate they are wanting forever." She joked, gently and playfully touching his arm.

It was like fire. Both literally and figuratively. If it weren't for the people she could almost throw herself at him. But then his skin was so hot that it almost burned. "Absolutely." Jacob smiled. "What's your phone number?" He looked almost like a puppy who was just given a treat. She took his phone and put her number in and he sent her a text. A wolf emoji.

Her eyes looked him over again. Then the phone in her hand began ringing. She answered it quickly, it was the moving company.

Jacob watched as she excused herself to talk to whoever. Her once happy self was instantly deflated. Jacob did not like that at all. He felt it. He actually felt the sadness in her. Is this what it was like to have an imprint? Actually feeling their pain? She walked back in and sighed.

“Are you okay?” Jacob asked with what (Y/n) could only describe as genuine concern.

“My moving truck is going to be late. On Monday while I’m at work instead of on Sunday.” She shouldn’t be so easy to talk to someone she had only known for 20 minutes. Jacob didn’t like the look on her face one of distress.

Jacob looked her over again, hardly getting tired of looking at her face. “I have some friends on the Res. Maybe we can meet them. Help you out..” Jacob offered without a second thought.

“Really?” she looked at him unsure at first.

Jacob nodded, a bright smile on his face.

“O-okay” She agreed.

a/n: Stopping this one here and writing part 2 next. If I didn’t this would be 3000 words. Don’t worry I’m literally going from posting this part to writing the next bit because I already know what I’m going to do. Then I’m going to write a Paul version of this.

#twilight reader insert #jacob black x reader #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #btvs reader insert #part 1

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zootopiathingz · 3 years

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Thanksgiving in Quarantine

(A/N: more Pixar AU!! no there's not really a plot I just wanted to write something for thanksgiving. Also friendly reminder I've never cooked a day in my life so Imma just be vague on those details)

"Alright Pixars, listen up!" Mike called to get everyone's attention. After their conversations died down, he stepped forward towards the front of the room so all eyes would be on him. As the group leader, it was his job to host the monthly meetings and inform them of recent events or decisions made by him or their creator, Luxo Sr.

Once he was sure they were listening, he proceeded to explain, "So as you all know, even though we aren't affected by Covid, we still have to stay in quarantine for the sake of others. So that means that this year, we won't be spending Thanksgiving with the Disneys—"

"YES!!" Everyone cheered ecstatically, some standing up to pump their fists or high-five each other.

Mike was taken aback by their joyous reaction. Not just because it was a response to what he said, but he couldn't remember the last time all of them were that excited about anything. "—like we usually do.." He finished.

"Oh don't act like you're not relieved about it, Mike." McQueen said, "You hate the Disneys just as much as we do."

"Excuse me, but we do not 'hate' here." He said, "We just strongly dislike. Anyway, I'm not that relieved like you guys are. I was actually looking forward to our tradition."

"Well, I'm just glad we won't have to be greeted by them singing 'Be Our Guest' for the millionth fucking time." Woody scoffed, earning some murmurs of agreement from the rest.

Their relationship with the Disneys was complicated, to say the least. Luxo Sr. started the alliance with Mickey Mouse himself several years ago, and thus they joined the Disney family. But the Pixars were never given a say in the deal, and while they did admire the Disneys and were grateful for the success they brought them, that didn't mean they were tolerable to be around. The Pixars didn't hate them (despite constantly joking that they did), they just despised their arrogance and their random outbursts of songs every ten minutes.

"Wait so if we're not going to the Disneys, we're gonna have Thanksgiving at our house?" Marlin asked, "You do realize we haven't done that in like, 14 years? And obviously the family's grown since then."

Mike nodded, "I understand that, but if we're able to somehow survive Halloween, Easter, Christmas, and New Years on our own, then how hard can Thanksgiving be?"

"Your optimism is appreciated." EVE said, "But from past experience, this feels like yet another disaster waiting to happen."

"Yeah, I mean, who's even gonna cook dinner?" Remy asked.

"You are." Mike shrugged.

The rat man widened his eyes, "Say what now?"

Remy was a great cook, and honestly he was the only one who actually knew how to use an oven. But cooking an entire Thanksgiving meal for the whole group was asking a bit much.

"I can't cook that much in one day by myself!"

"You won't, some of us will help you. Right, guys?" Mike asked. But he got no responses, instead everyone just awkwardly looked away.

Remy sighed, "Come on, guys. Do you really want to eat burnt turkey for Thanksgiving? Imelda?"

She put her hands up in defense, "Don't look at me. I don't know how to make white people food."

"Okay, relax. We'll have WALL-E help you." Mike said, gesturing to the robot man—who gave an enthusiastic wave.

But this offer didn't make Remy feel any better. Out of all the Pixars Mike could've suggested, it just had to be WALL-E. "Seriously?" He asked, "You know he burns toast, right?"

"He'll be fine." Mike waved a dismissive hand. "..probably. Okay, does anyone else want to help with Thanksgiving dinner?"

Once again there was nothing but silence and awkward glances. Remy looked around with a pleading face, trying to get anyone to agree, but no such luck. Well, until Atta got tired of the lack of responses and and decided it was best to take one for the team. "Alright fine. I'll help you." She said to Remy.

"Thank Luxo." He sighed with relief, "You are a saint, Atta."

She shrugged, "I try."

"Then it's settled." Mike said, "Thanksgiving will be hosted by Remy, Atta, and WALL-E. Let's pray they don't screw it up."

The three gave him a cold look, while the others nodded in agreement.

—

Thursday came sooner than they realized, and unfortunately due to the pandemic, buying groceries was a pain in the ass and getting what they needed for dinner took longer than they would've hoped. Luckily they were able to have it all in their kitchen and (hopefully) would have enough time to make it. And even though they were spending the holiday by themselves, the Pixars still got dressed up and decorated for the occasion.

Since the kids would be joining them at the table as well, that meant having to cook for even more people. Remy, WALL-E, and Atta were hard at work in the kitchen making gravy, deviled eggs, sweet potato casserole, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, etc. And of course, turkey. At first it didn't seem like cooking was going to be so bad. They got an early start before most of the Pixars even woke up. If all went well, they would have dinner done by the afternoon.

"Okay guys, we've got a full house of hungry Pixars so we gotta get this done quick." Remy reminded them, "Atta, you're on pie detail, and you're gonna help me with the turkey. WALL-E, you focus on the casserole, eggs, and making sure Atta stays away from the marshmallows."

Atta slowly looked over at him while he pointed at her, "Yeah, I see you."

She narrowed her eyes at him before slowly reaching her hand toward the bag of marshmallows. He scolded her as she popped another one into her mouth, smirking at him and holding back a laugh. But then the two quickly moved on, since they couldn't waste much time on banter and jokes.

"I don't see how the Disneys do this every year." WALL-E commented, taking a bite of bread.

"Well, they don't actually make it. They have a whole cooking staff that serves them every meal. Which is kinda why they invite us in the first place." Atta explained to him, helping Remy baste the turkey.

Remy scoffed, "And yet there's only one chef in this house. Man, I'd love it if I could get more help around here. Hopefully the new Pixars will know how to cook."

"That's what you say every time." Atta chuckled.

"Maybe if I keep saying it, it'll happen." He shrugged.

After a few minutes, the turkey was ready to cook. They placed it in the oven and set the correct amount of degrees and time. Now all they had to do was wait and finish the rest of the meal.

Violet walked into the kitchen, inhaling the strong scent of half-cooked food. "Mmm, smells great in here." She commented, opening the fridge to grab a water bottle. "So how's slaving away for the others going?"

"We're not 'slaving away', Violet." Remy rolled his eyes. Although now that he said it out loud, it kinda seemed like they were, considering not a single other Pixar was offering to help. Instead they were all hanging out around the house doing who knows what. "Regardless, we're doing just fine."

"You wanna help us?" Atta asked with a mouthful of marshmallows—which earned a scowl from Remy.

Violet sighed, shutting the fridge. "I'd love to, but Joy's taking me out shopping for Christmas presents.

"But stores aren't even open today." WALL-E said.

"That's what I told her." The teen shrugged her shoulders, "But she insisted on taking me and a couple others. I honestly think they're just trying to get out of the house so they have an excuse not to help out."

The three exchanged an annoyed glance. While they expected that sort of behavior from their friends, it was still irritating to know they didn't care enough to even stay home for Thanksgiving. But then again, ditching her friends when they need her didn't sound like something Joy would do.

Before they could question it, they heard Violet's name being called from the other room, signaling her to walk away. "Well, good luck with dinner, guys." She said.

"Okay, have fun today." Atta said to her right before she left. The three then gave each other the same confused expression, all thinking the same thing. But it was a short-lived moment, as they quickly got back to work.

"Alright, making conversation is nice and all, but we can't spend much time having social interactions." Remy reminded them, "From now on, no more distractions, okay? Focus is key."

He turned around, seeing a certain someone once again stuffing three marshmallows in her mouth. "Atta!"

"Leave me alone!" She retorted.

—

Several hours passed since the three started cooking, and they were getting close to being finished. It was hard keeping the kids out of the kitchen to stop them from sneaking bites of the food, since they always did that even when eating at the Disneys' place. But in a display of irony, Remy always shooed them away or chased them out with a broom.

A little after noon the meal was finally ready to be gorged. Everyone had a little bit of everything on their plate and had to pull up a few chairs and small tables so they could all sit together in one spot (one of the tables was actually just an old nightstand). Usually when eating meals, the Pixars would just sit in different areas around the house since the table wasn't big enough for all of them to sit at. But since this was Thanksgiving, they wanted to be together.

"Alright everyone, before we eat, we should go around and say what we're thankful for." Woody said, "And I'll start if that makes it easier."

"It would." They all agreed.

They all joined hands as Woody began, "Well, I'm thankful for all of you. You're not just my friends or people I'm forced to live with, you're my family. Which is kinda the same thing but has better meaning. I'm also thankful for our success, and I'm thankful we're doing this here and not at Disney hell."

A few of them laughed and nodded, although they never thought they'd hear the words "Disney" and "hell" in the same sentence.

"I'll go next." Sulley said, "Let's see, I'm thankful for the food on my plate, and the hard-working people who made it for me."

Remy, Atta, and WALL-E smiled at him.

"And I'm thankful to have the privilege to celebrate this holiday with the people I love."

"Awww!!" They cooed.

Barley leaned towards Sadness to whisper, "Wait, are we supposed to say meaningful shit like that every time?" The girl merely shrugged in response.

Once everyone had a turn saying what they were thankful for, they were finally able to dig in. The turkey was even better than they were used to. The whole meal tasted far better than what they would've received at the Disneys' Thanksgiving. Except the sweet potato casserole appeared to be missing quite a few marshmallows.

"I'm so glad it's Thanksgiving." Joy said, a little out-of-the blue.

"Why's that, Joy?" Bob asked her curiously.

"So I can finally get in the Christmas spirit without people telling me to 'wait until Thanksgiving'." She rolled her eyes.

Out of all of them, Joy was definitely the Christmas fanatic, so much that all other holidays around the end of the year were irrelevant to her. The Pixars didn't mind it, though. They loved Christmas, and they were glad she was always the one to go all out on decorations so they didn't have to.

"Can't argue with that." Jessie said, stuffing a piece of pie in her mouth. "But sadly it's not gonna be the same this year."

"No kidding." Merida scoffed. "If people had just done what they were told back in March, this wouldn't have happened."

McQueen raised a brow, "Dude, we had a whole ass celebration for the Swearing-In in March—"

"That was before quarantine, shut up." She was quick to defend.

"When's quarantine gonna be over?" Dash asked, "I'm tired of staying inside all day."

Mike sighed, as he dreaded this topic every time it came up in conversation. But as the leader, he had to be the voice of reason. "Look guys, I know it's tough, okay? We can't even die from Covid but we're being forced to stay at home, and I know it's frustrating. Heck, there's probably not even gonna be a Swearing-In ceremony for 'Soul'."

"There's not??" Dory asked with a frown.

"If things stay this way, then no." He said, even though it hurt to admit. Swearing-Ins were a big deal for the Pixars. It was what made them apart of the family. "But there's nothing we've been through that we've faced alone, right? We've always had each other, and we always will."

Even though they were still sad about the situation, and even if what he said was a little cheesy, they knew he was right. They were the Pixars for crying out loud, they could handle any challenge as long as they stuck together.

Mike raised his glass, signaling everyone else to do the same. "I propose a toast. To our Pixar family."

"To our family!" They cheered, sipping their drinks afterward.

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