#like the gently toasted underside of a dinner roll

[canisalbus]

Have either Machete or Vasco ever had (or maybe still do) the all important Pink Puppy Tummy?

.

#Vasco's chest and abdomen are lighter shade of gold than his back #like the gently toasted underside of a dinner roll #Machete is pale peachy pink where the skin shows through fur #notably from navel to inner thighs #answered #anonymous

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: live from the meadowlands! i’m freezing my tits off in new jersey and getting ready to head into the stadium to scream my head off for the boys! so i figured it would be a perfect time to provide some best man mat smut - this is so unedited it’s not even funny, but i hope you guys enjoy and i’ll catch up with you all on monday once i’ve thawed out! 🧡💙🤍

word count: 3.3k

tw: dirty dancing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), nipple play, creampie, let me know if there’s anything i missed

summary: it’s ethan and lenasia’s wedding day and mat’s the best man. it’s not your fault that he looks so damn good in a suit

“And if there’s anything you take away from this speech tonight, it’s yes, I can actually read! Let’s raise a toast to the bride and groom,” Mat smiles, laughs a little, and lifts his drink in the air to toast Ethan and Lenasia. You swallow a giggle and then a sip of champagne, setting the flute down on the table so you can call and cheer wildly as Ethan cups Lenasia’s face and kisses her deeply.

By the time the clapping tapers off, Mat is back in his seat next to you, his hand finding yours and lacing your fingers together. He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it, causing a blush to heat your cheeks. “How was it?” He asks, sounding slightly nervous, lips tilted in a self-conscious smile.

“Perfect,” you grin, leaning slightly into his personal space. “Who knew you were so good with words?” Your silk-covered knee knocks against his tuxedoed one.

Mat scoffs and takes a drink of water, his hand dwarfing the glass. “You know I’m very good with words, babe,” he winks at you. He sits back in his seat, watching as Lenasia’s maid of honor steps up to the front of the room to give her speech. The pad of his thumb rubs against the underside of your ring finger, catching on the pavé band of your engagement ring. You let your knee knock against Mat’s again and the corner of his mouth curves up in a smile, his attention focused on the speech.

A few short minutes later, you’re lifting your glasses in another toast to Ethan and Lenasia. Mat’s hand never leaves yours and he squeezes your fingers gently as he sips at his champagne. You can’t help but stare at him, taking in his mussed hair and unbuttoned shirt. The hint of skin and collarbone has you feeling overly warm. He’s always looked sinfully good in formalwear.

“Like what you see, babe?” He laughs, leaning into you when you’re sitting down again, starting to poke at the salads in front of you. His lips brush against your cheek and you shiver.

“Always,” you murmur back, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Just thinking about how good you look. How I didn’t get to see you at all today.”

Mat shifts in his seat and you grin wickedly, glancing down to see the effect your words are having on him. Since he’s the best man, he’d been up and out of the hotel room early to get ready, so all you’d gotten this morning was a rushed make-out session and an ass squeeze, leaving you unsatisfied.

“Later,” Mat whispers in your ear, a promise and a threat.

“I’m holding you to that,” you grin, turning your head slightly to capture his lips with yours. You bite down gently on his lower lip and Mat groans quietly into your mouth.

He presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth when you pull back and mutters, “gonna hold you to something, for sure.”

You snort a laugh and shake your head at him a little, pushing at his thigh where it’s pressed against yours. “You’re so cheesy,” you tease, digging into your salad.

“It’s weddings,” he replies around a mouthful of food. “They bring out my inner Hallmark movie hero.”

The subtle tease at your preferred guilty pleasure entertainment makes you roll your eyes. He joins in on watching the Christmas movies more than he’d ever admit. You smirk at him, “keep this energy up for Christmastime.”

After that, you both fall into conversation with your friends at the table, eating dinner as it’s served and drinking too much. Mat continuously delivers you bay breezes, the vodka flooding your veins and making you pleasantly tipsy by the time you’re on the dance floor.

Mat’s hands are all over your body, holding you close as you sway and scream along to the music, hips bumping together. Your hair is slowly starting to fall out of the updo you’d spent most of the morning working on, little pieces frizzing around your face and sticking to your forehead. Mat’s hands are hot on your skin through the silk of your dress, leaving a phantom impression whenever he moves them.

The music changes, slows down, and Mat pulls you close, hands landing on the curve of your ass. You grin at him, buzzing from the alcohol and skin tingling from his touch. His eyes are a little unfocused from his own drinking but he lands a kiss on your lips with precision accuracy. He tastes like whiskey and beer and Mat. You smile into the kiss, giggling when he grows sloppy, kissing the corners of your mouth. “You look gorgeous,” he says, mouth close to yours. “Like a…a…a gorgeous woman.”

You laugh out loud, clearly Mat’s drunker than you thought he was, and press yourself closer to him as you sway. “I thought you had a way with words?” You tease him, stroking your fingers through his hair and over the nape of his neck. He shudders in your arms at your touch, sensitive against your gentle ministrations.

“I said words, didn’t I?” He laughs, turning his head to kiss the inside of your arm. “You are gorgeous, what else m’I s’posed to say?”

“Hmm,” you hum, head pleasantly fuzzy from the drinks, “I dunno, anything else you think is appropriate.”

Mat’s silent, for once in his life, and Elvis croons about falling in love.

“How about,” he grins, holding you close and lowering his voice so you’re the only one who can hear him, “I wanna fuck you until you forget your own name.”

His breath ghosts against your cheek and your knees wobble, the surge of lust in your blood overwhelming. Your fingers tighten around Mat’s hair, tugging sharply, and you lean even closer to him, soaking up the warmth of his body. “I like that plan,” you giggle, the sound tapering off into a little gasp when the music changes and Mat grinds his hips into yours. The bulge of his cock presses against you, a promise for later.

The reception lasts into the wee hours of the morning, music bumping and drinks flowing. You’ve taken a spin around the dance floor with Ethan, scream-sung along to the Spice Girls with Lenasia and some of the bridesmaids, and given baby Gracie some cuddles before she was ushered off to bed by Lenasia’s mom.

Now it’s just the straggler, party-animals left and you’re once again in Mat’s arms, his chest pressed against your back. His hand is warm against your stomach, fingers splayed out to cover as much of you as he can. You lean your head back against his shoulder, swaying along to the music completely off-tempo. Mat’s lips are against your skin, kissing your temple, your hair, every inch of you he can reach.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “you’re so pretty.” His words are a little slurred, running into each other. “Someone should marry you.”

A drunken laugh startles out of your mouth and you lift your left hand, engagement ring glinting in the low lighting, back to curl in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. “Someone is,” you tease, kissing the point of his chin.

“Who?” He turns his head and plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Cause I’ll fight him. I wanna marry you.”

“You dork,” you laugh, “you’re marrying me.”

Mat’s hand stops its movement over your stomach and chest, fingers frozen where they’re curled around your breast. “Oh fuck yes,” he crows. “How’d I forget that?”

“I don’t know, exactly how drunk are you, my love?” Your hand tangles further into Mat’s hair, hips never stopping their lazy grind against Mat’s groin. Your other hand cover’s Mat’s tracing over his knuckles and the veins underneath his skin. You’re not even remotely close to sober yourself, alcohol blurring the edges of all your thoughts, making your movements slow and loose.

“Not drunk enough that I won’t be able to fuck you in the hotel room,” he promises, biting down on your earlobe and making you shiver.

“Good,” you grind your ass back against his cock, grinning impishly when you feel him twitch against you, “I’ve been looking forward to it all night.”

His hand squeezes your breast tightly and you yelp a little, nipples pebbling under the silky fabric of your dress. Mat’s mouth marks a hot trail over your jaw and down your neck, kissing at the join of your neck and shoulder, burying his nose against your skin. “You smell good,” he mumbles, holding you close. ”Love you so much.”

“Love you,” you reply, squealing when Mat grabs your hand and twirls you out to the side and then back in, your back slamming against his chest when you lose your balance. He wraps his arms around your stomach, hands clasped over your belly button, chin resting on your shoulder, and sways along with the music.

Mat’s lips are hot on your skin, magnetized apparently since he can’t stop kissing your exposed neck and collarbone. You melt against him, leaning heavily into his embrace, butterflies kicking around in your stomach. Every shift of his hips presses his erection against your ass, hard heat searing through the thin silk of your dress. Arousal grows slick between your legs, your panties damp and your thighs gliding against each other.

He tugs gently at the fabric under his hands, bunching it a little so the hem of your dress starts to inch higher. His heart beats against your back, his bare chest hot against your skin. The fabric of Mat’s unbuttoned shirt tickles your sweaty skin and you wonder, deep in the back corner of your mind, where his tie went and if he’ll ever get it back. Then his palm is sliding up your thigh and you have no more thoughts, just the feeling of Mat’s skin on yours.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Mat whispers in your ear, his breath warm on your cheek. “Wanna be inside you.”

You nod and Mat drags you off, hand tight around yours, your heels clipping along the floor as you hurry to keep up with him.

——

“You taste like pineapples,” Mat comments, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and laving over the pebbled bud with the flat of his tongue.

Your back arches, Mat’s hands at your lower back bracing you. “Oh my - god,” you gasp, “I sp-spilled a drink earlier.”

Mat licks up over the swell of your breast, sucking a mark at the top. He nuzzles his nose against the skin of your sternum and your breath hitches in your chest. Your hips roll over the bulge in his pants, soaking the fabric of his slacks.

Your panties have been tossed to the side and the skirt of your dress is bunched up around your waist, making it easier for you to straddle Mat’s lap. He’d made quick work of pulling the straps of your dress down over your arms, baring your breasts to him and wasting no time marking them up with his mouth.

“Love these tits,” he groans, licking a hot stripe through the valley between your breasts and up to the hollow of your throat. “Bouncing so perfectly while you ride me.”

You whine and dig your nails into his shoulders, “M’not riding you,” you complain, rolling your hips over his clothed lap. “Take your pants off and fuck me.”

His shirt is on the floor, hair mussed from your hands, but his slacks are still on and you’re getting frustrated, whiny and desperate for the burn of his cock in your cunt. Mat’s hands roam your back, one cupping the nape of your neck and the other sliding under the curve of your ass. His fingers tease at your entrance and you clench, a fresh rush of arousal staining his slacks.

“Mat,” you whine his name, pressing closer to his fingers and burying your face in the crook of his neck, “please, please, wanna fuck you. Wanna have you fill me up.”

“Needy,” Mat teases, kissing you solidly as he lifts you off his lap and deposits you on the mattress. “Touch yourself while you wait,” he demands, hand on his belt buckle. You blink up at him and he cocks his head, raising an eyebrow. “Go ahead, babe, give that pretty pussy the attention she deserves.”

With Mat’s gaze focused on your bare cunt, you bring your hand to the swollen, sensitive flesh. Your fingers tremble a little as you circle them around your clit, head falling back against the mattress and a breath stuttering out of your lungs. “Oh god,” you moan, applying more pressure and picking up your speed.

Distracted, you don’t realize Mat’s undoing his belt and pants, shucking them down his muscular legs and kicking them to the side. “There you go, baby,” he rasps, sitting back down on the mattress, watching arousal drip out of your cunt. “Gonna slide right in, you’re so fucking soaked.”

He fists his cock lazily, running the flat of his palm over the reddened tip. Your fingers stutter as you watch him, ready for him to fill you up. “Can I - Mat,” you exhale harshly, rubbing your fingers hard over your clit. He hasn’t told you to stop, so you won’t, but you’re losing patience. “Please,” your voice cracks a little and Mat takes pity on you, reaching his free hand for your thigh.

“Aw, come here, baby,” Mat murmurs, hauling you over his lap again, hand falling away from his cock. Your hands brace on his shoulders and you settle your knees on either side of Mat’s hips. “Gonna sit you right where you belong, stretched out on my cock, okay?”

You nod desperately, chanting his name and then gasping when Mat lines the head of his cock right at your entrance, dragging you down by the hips until your ass is flush against his thighs and his cock is fully sheathed in your cunt.

“Ohhhh god,” you moan, head falling back and hips moving of their own accord, bouncing on Mat’s cock. The drag of his cock against your walls is delicious, the bare heat of him blistering from the inside. “Feels so good, god, fuck, Mat.”

His fingers are tight on your hips and Mat’s eyes are locked on your bouncing tits. “Baby, god, so tight. Been wanting to fuck you all night, fill this pussy with my cum, lick it out of you, make you scream my name.” Filth drops from his lips until he can’t help himself and he leans in to tug one of your nipples with his teeth, grinning around you when you shriek.

His pace never stops, his hips bucking upwards into yours, his cock head hitting your g-spot and making you see stars. Your nails dig into Mat’s shoulders and your thighs burn with the bouncing, but your stomach is tightening with pleasure and you beg Mat not to stop, chanting his name.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles against your chest, slicking your tits with his spit, “come on my cock, baby. Soak my dick.” His hand snakes forward and he pinches at your clit, drawing a scream from your lips. Sweat drips down both of your bodies, mixing with your arousal on Mat’s thighs, the glide of his cock in your cunt so smooth.

With his cock pounding into you, his fingers on your clit, and his mouth on your nipples, Mat drags you over the cliff and your orgasm hits like a freight train. You come with a scream, gushing around his cock and soaking his lap. Mat’s not too far behind you, bucking his hips up into yours while you shake through the aftershocks of your orgasm. His cock thickens inside of you and you babble in his ear, talking to him and coaxing him into coming inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, baby,” he grunts, biting hard on your shoulder when he comes, filling you with hot, thick ropes of cum. Tears well in your eyes at the sensation, toes curling. He flops backwards onto the mattress, taking you with him with a little yelp.

You’re crushed against Mat’s chest, the bunched up fabric of your dress sliding against your slick skin, his cock softening inside of you. You bury your face against Mat’s neck and giggle lightly, wiggling happily when Mat’s hands caress your asscheeks. He groans into your hair, “Squeaks, I think wedding sex is our thing.”

Your laughter is louder now, vibrating through your body. It’s not like there’s always that many opportunities - besides tonight, you’d been to three of your friends’ weddings this summer and honestly, yeah, you’d had some pretty mindblowing sex after all of those weddings too.

Your fingers card through Mat’s sweaty hair, pushing it off his face and tracing his browbone gently. “Hmm, just imagine how good it’s going to be after our own wedding,” you tease, biting at your lower lip.

Mat lifts his head to capture your lips with his, teasing at your lower lip with his tongue until you release it from your teeth. His fingers trail all over your lower body, dipping between your legs and dragging the mix of your fluids over your skin. “Wedding night sex?” He says when he pulls back, eyes twinkling with mischief, “that’s the night I’m supposed to pretend we’re both virgins who’ve never seen each others’ ankles, right?”

You laugh and shift, the movement dragging your messy cunt over his cock. Mat winces at the graze, soft against your thigh. “Hmm, I don’t think either of us can pretend to be virgins,” you kiss his cheek and reach down between your bodies to stroke your fingers over his lower stomach and then lower, over the hair at the base of his cock and cup his balls, enjoying the groan Mat can’t hold back when you squeeze gently. “Not with our raw animal magnetism.”

Mat snorts a laugh, “raw animal magnetism? Why am I marrying you again, you weirdo?”

“My world class roast chicken and gold medal blow jobs, obviously,” you flip your hair off your shoulder, immediately wincing when your fingers catch in a knot. “Oh fuck that. My hair is a rat’s nest.”

You roll off of Mat’s chest, legs still tangled with his. He rolls to his side and drapes a hand over your hip. You study his face, swollen lips and hazy expression in his eyes. Stubble is sprouting on his jaw and you reach up to scrape your fingers against it, making him smile and press his face into your touch like a cat. “You do make a really good roast chicken,” Mat mumbles, eyelids shutting. His blinks grow lazy and it takes a few seconds longer than usual for his eyelids to open again. You hum happily, still stroking his face.

Mat’s completely asleep a few minutes later, mouth wide open, drunken snores echoing throughout the room. You roll your eyes affectionately - how is this the man you’re going to marry?

Carefully, you wiggle off the bed so you can take off your dress and shower, the hot water soothing your muscles and washing away the sticky feeling between your legs. Your mind wanders as you shower, thinking about how amazing the wedding was and how much planning you’ll be doing in the upcoming year for your own wedding.

Mat’s still asleep when you get back into the room, but now he’s wrapped himself up in the sheets, sprawled out on his stomach. “Blanket thief,” you mutter, crawling up next to him and wiggling under the duvet. A bobby pin digs into your scalp and you run a hand through your hair, trying to dislodge it but too lazy to actually take your hair down. It shifts a bit, not actively lobotomizing you, so you close your eyes and press your face into the pillow, yawning wide enough to crack your jaw.

As sleep takes over, you feel Mat’s hand move around the mattress, finding yours and lacing his fingers with yours.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

Fall Spreads One Gold Lap of Leaves

The first time he woke up that morning it was still dark outside and it was the dip and bounce of the bed as the other got up that had woken him. It wasn’t unusual for the other to move about in the middle of the night - especially when it was in the first few nights since she’d gotten home from a hunt like today - but usually she would be back in bed shortly after; and Grey rolled over sleepily preparing to pull her close when she got back in with a yawn and succumbed to sleep before he could feel her return.

The next time he woke, it was to birds chirping and sunlight outside, and to the warm, moist doggy breath of their girl breathing heavily into his face from the side of the bed. Her tail thumped heavily against the mattress and Grey cracked an eye open to see two big brown eyes looking at him balefully, before the thumping got louder and quicker. Nana barked happily twice and suddenly there were two large paws pressing onto his chest as she launched herself up onto her back legs towards him, waking him up completely.

“Ugh, Nana no, no no get down. Puppy, get down.” Grey let out a huffed laugh, before shifting up higher on the bed and giving another laugh before patting the bed beside him. “Okay fine, up you get, c’mon.”

The dog was up in seconds, jolting herself straight onto the empty side of the bed and bouncing about happily before flopping down over his outstretched legs for a belly scratch. Giving into her demands, the shadow didn’t hide the smile as he rubbed the pup’s underside with one hand and at his eyes with his fisted other as he let out a yawn.

“Where’s your mama, pup?” Grey asked quietly, scratching under the dog’s chin as she threw her head back and let out a pleased grumble noise.

It was the smell of coffee wafting in followed by the kick of the somewhat open door to give access was the answer to that question, as Jo shuffled into the room with a tray held between her hands. “Oh! Nana! You naughty girl, we were supposed to come in together!” The blonde cried out quietly, moving across to sit on the edge of the bed with a smile, setting the tray down on the bedside table. “Mornin’ hun, did she wake you?”

“Only a little bit.”

“What a naughty baby.” Jo laughed loudly then, and Grey felt himself grinning back as the blonde flopped over tickling and rubbing the dog all over to the flailing of the furry limbs and thumping of the fluffy tail while he watched. “Oh who’s a naughty girl, you are, aren’t you baby, naughty naughty girl!”

“You know, Jo, calling her that in that voice isn’t going to help much with her knowing what that word means.” He chuckled slightly, and smiled wider at the cheerful frown he got in response from the other as she sat up slightly, still rubbing the happy dog’s belly. As Jo appeared to not turn her attention towards him from the dog, Grey shifted and looked to the bedside and looked surprised at the contents of the tray.

There was the coffee he smelt on her entry but he was surprised to see the reusable travel mug Jo used for her hunts set on the tray meaning she’d left the house to get him a real coffee, but what was beside it surprised him just as much. Grey hadn’t known they had had berries in the house, let alone the yogurt that they were spilled over in two of the bowls, he wasn’t so surprised by the small plate of biscuits but was surprised that they looked like pumpkin ones and were dotted with pumpkin seeds and cut open and steaming with the butter melting in and honey drizzled over top. Beside the yogurt bowls, he felt himself raising a brow at the long cinnamon sugar rolled sticks of bread, and reaching to bite one he made a surprised noise at realizing they were in fact french toast soldiers. Dipping the solider into the berry swirled yogurt at Jo’s move to do the same with the other cup of soldiers and bowl of yogurt as she stopped petting the dog, Grey felt himself smiling at the main dishes on the plate for them both at the so un-Jo style of the entire tray - the individual quiches which looked to be salmon with baby spinach and little wheels of asparagus in an overly dainty look compared to Jo’s usual cooking.

As Nana shifted at Jo’s prodding - half at the direction from the blonde and half just following the waved piece of eggy-bread that rolled the dog over onto the empty side of the bed - the other moved the tray up and kicked the legs out underneath it to sit across his lap as she shifted slightly closer. “Yeah, but she’s so good at following instructions she never hears it in a bad way.”

“You bribing just her or me too?” Grey asked gently as Jo shifted and started separating the food out to each of them just by shifting one plate towards him and one towards her as she lifted the lone OJ glass to her lips with a shrug. Reaching for one of the biscuits, the shadow looked at her curiously. “What time did you get up, Jo, and what’s all.. this about?” He waved the hand holding the biscuit over the tray before taking a bite and smiling widely recognizing the baked-with-love feeling he always got from enjoying anything made by Jo’s dexterous hands. “You been up since it was dark out?”

“Mhmm!” Jo bobbed her head in a nod as she started to dip her own french toast fingers into her berry topped yogurt before passing the very last of the solider to the happy pup lolling next to them. “I think it was just before five - it’s almost nine now in case you were wonderin’ - and you’ll see what this is all about throughout the day.”

“Well if that isn’t a little bit cryptic at all.”

“Oh shush, I never get to surprise you.”

“You surprise me every day, pretty one.” Grey replied, picking up his knife and fork before tucking into the quiche, with a swipe of his forkful through the dill creme fraiche from the side, on the plate towards his side of the tray with a quiet noise of appreciation. He might usually be the chef in the house, but when Jo tried it was definitely almost as nice as her baking. His answer got a laugh from the other as she too began to enjoy her own breakfast across from him. “So, any hints?”

“Well, the weather’s good today so I thought we could go have a bit of a picnic in the backyard later.” Grey found himself frowning slightly as he ate at the all too innocent tone to Jo’s voice as she talked, and looking up, he saw that nowhere near innocent look on her face as the edge of her lips tugged up. She was definitely up to something. Running an eye over her dress for the day, he was absolutely certain something was up. “And Harry called earlier to see ‘bout him and Ed comin’ over for dinner.”

That got a smile in return - the researcher had been popping around more and more regularly for dinners lately, and the last time Harry had said Grey’s cooking was better than his own and better than eating bar snacks all the time; and that he was bringing the old friend over felt like Grey was being absorbed into that long term friendship in all the best ways  - and he focused on eating the rest of his breakfast, giving the odd piece of toast crust or quiche crust to the happily rolling dog next to them as they finished.

“Hey, I’ve gotta go let her out the back, you need anythin’ else?” Jo asked innocently, that same tone and Grey found himself biting down a knowing look back at her, as she packed up the breakfast tray with an air of calmness he wasn’t sure was accurate to how she was feeling. Something about her seemed nervous, and he grabbed a hold of her hand as she made to move with a small frown.

“Leave it, I’ll take her out in a minute,” He said, stroking his thumb over the inside of her wrist and tugged to pull the blonde back down onto the bed beside him. “Just, sit down a second, you’ve been up for quite a while if you got up that early, pretty one.”

“It’s fine, I had stuff to do-”

“Jo…Stay and lay down with me for a minute okay?” Grey asked gently, pulling at her shoulders until Jo let out a groan and flopped back between him and the now dozing dog. Rolling to his own side, the shadow tugged her up against his side with an arm around the waist, running his fingers over the band of the Greecian dress she was wearing just under her bust - tickling the side of her ribs a little until she laughed. “Did you have much planned for the day or could was just stay here for a bit?”

There was a non-committal hum from Jo at that, as she shuffled back toward his chest and covered his hand with her own. That was curiouser still, and Grey bit down a smile as he pressed his lips to her hair and sank in in the hopes of relaxing a while longer while Nana let out the odd yip.

After ten minutes, where they’d spoken softly here and there when something would cross one of their minds, Grey could feel the antsy vibes starting back up in the other - her foot jiggly here and there or fingers tugging at the loose draped fabric of the unusual blue dress. As he ran a hand along her side and murmured quietly she did not appear to relax again, making him let out a sigh.”Okay, okay, time to get up huh?”

“Wha-”

“I can tell, you’ve got something you want us to be doing now, Jo, so lets get to it.”

“No, no, just… I…we’re supposed to do things you like today.” The blonde turned in his arm, an uncertain smile on her face as she curled around to face him. “You said a while back if you could pick any day, it’d be today. So today is your day.”

Grey found himself frowning at that, and thought back to the brief once off comment he had made when discussing plans for her birthday once and Jo’d claimed it was unfair he didn’t have one of his own. Technically he had been born once, but time was so confusing in Purgatory and so long ago that being able to confirm a specific day would be impossible compared to picking one of some significance for himself. He’d practically forgot about it, and yet she’d remembered. His frown shifted into a soft smile at the uncertain look she was giving him, and leaning forward he pulled her into an equally soft kiss at the thought that she remembered and she had planned something for him, for his day.

—

If he had had one hundred guesses, he would not have come close to guessing what Jo’d planned out for him at all.

As soon as they’d finished cuddling, Jo’d shooed him off to the bathroom while chasing the dog downstairs to her food bowl in the laundry and busied herself with whatever she had been scheming. The shadow found himself frowning at the sheer amount of makeup and hair products sitting out around the basin - more than he thought was evident from the way he thought the other had looked - and thinking that perhaps she’d been a little busier than she let on so far that morning.

The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, that thought was absolutely justified.

The front lounge was much the same as usual, however the couch and television had been moved away from the window and the comfortable sitting chair Jo usually did her laptop research in placed at a strange angle for any purpose that he could think of from the look of it. But the whole room had been shifted, and there was a small bouquet of roses sat on the table that hadn’t been there the night before - the looked like the ones from old lady Jenkins down the street, but he couldn’t be completely sure. Raising a brow to himself, Grey moved past and down the hall as Nana ran out of the laundry to greet him, a big doggy smile on her face and tongue lolled out one side.

“So, been up to some fall cleaning, Jo?” He called out as he pushed open the door to the kitchen before immediately coming to a halt looking about in shock. Jo had definitely been busier than he thought.

There was a laugh from somewhere in the space towards the sink, where he could see just the very top of her blonde hair passing about behind the bright yellow sunflowers on the island between them.  “Just a bit of a tidy up.”

On the island alone there were four separate vases full of flowers - mixes of sunflowers and sweet peas in one, peonies of multiple different colors in two of the others, and the fourth was full of yellow, pink and white chrysanthemums - but that was nothing compared to the kitchen table which was utterly covered with the same flowers spread all over the table top. There were the odd white snowdrops and snapdragons breaking up the yellows and pinks, as well as a few books and Grey’s eye drew straight to the silver necklace and pendant that was almost never off of Jo’s neck laid reverently in the mass of blooms. At the end of the table was a relatively large box wrapped in blue swirled paper and a white bow taped on top.

“Jo, what…” Grey found himself stumbling over what words to say, moving towards the tabletop and running a finger over some of the flowers as he moved around the table. There was still dew on a few of the snowdrops, and that was more surprising than anything. “What’s all this?” He lifted the pendant gently, running his thumb over the face of the crystals that glinted up at him before resettling it down among the blooms; and moved towards the large box. “Jo?”

“Hum? What’s what?” Jo’s eyes popped up above the sunflowers as Grey looked back towards her, and he could see the devious energy flashing in them as she popped back out of sight. “Oh, that’s yours. Enjoy.” There was a clattering as if she was putting dishes in the sink, while Grey turned back to examining the box in even more confusion.

“Mine?”

“Yes, yours, hun. What? You think I want some blue present?”

“Why do I even have a present? It’s not Christmas.”

“Yeah well,” Jo’s voice was closer and it didn’t surprise him to suddenly feel the weight of her head against his shoulder and an arm around his waist. He felt his cheeks growing warm at the next words, while he stroked over the messily but clearly worked on wrapping attempt. “It’s your day, so you get presents like I do on mine. Now! Open it, I hope you like it.”

His fingers shook slightly sliding under the tape and gently opening the wrapping around the box. As he pulled the wrapping away and slipped the bow off of the top, Grey turned and tucked the formed bow over Jo’s ear as she appeared at his shoulder. It got a laugh at least, and for the longest moment the shadow found himself distracted from finding out the mysterious contents to wrap his arms around her and bury into her neck. Mysteries could wait, Jo was in his arms and had gotten something for him.

“Hun..” The giggle was still evident in her tone as she shifted in his arms to hug him back, before letting out a squeal unexpectedly. Jo jerked back away, swatting gently towards the gentle giant dog that had snuffled her way under Jo’s unusual dress and Grey could imagine had pressed a cold nose against her. “Nana! No! Outside, baby.”

The blonde span off to chase the dog out with a laugh while Grey watched on, hands rubbing carefully over the top of the box. It wasn’t completely foreign to him - getting gifts - what with the number of Christmas’ they had bought and given gifts for one another, but getting one when it was only for him was something new. Pulling open the lid, it was surprising to see three matching, leather bound books of different sizes inside as well as two wooden boxes and a wooden painting palette. The palette was easy to identify, and cracking open each of the two boxes in turn, Grey felt his lips twitching to see the charcoal pencils in one to replace some of his almost finished ones as well as a set of watercolour paints in individual little pots in the other. Those seemed to match with the first book he retrieved - large with textured paper that he could tell from the feel was specifically for the paints - and the second large book appeared to be a new sketch book for him.

He could hear Jo calling out to the dog outside, and considered going out after them before he noticed how worn the third look appeared to be. Grey frowned slightly at the idea of a used book, unsure what it could have meant other than perhaps it was some novel Jo loved or something important to her, before opening the first page and letting out a surprised gasp at the familiar tiny, jagged script that filled it.

Sinking into the closest chair, Grey found himself drinking in the first words with a small smile - ‘this is just something i’m doing for an idea. it might be stupid and i might burn this instead but… lets just see how it goes huh?’ - before flipping a few pages further in. Each page or two had a different pen or pencil, and dates were added on occasion.

He stopped catching sight of one date and felt his brow furrowing in confusion reading the entry- ‘Feb 8 - sam gave me a call today as always, don’t think dean knows about it but whatever. maybe one day he’ll realise it wasn’t his fault and that nothing too bad happened. should probably have delayed my hunt a day or two knowing this but this fucking shifter seems to be crazy as’ - before he flipped a few more pages along. There was an entire page covered in love hearts around his name dated April 7 and felt the edges of his lips twitch up in a smile, followed by an undated entry on the next page that said ‘oh my god there was the cutest puppy at this diner. i have taken photos and about to send them to you. i wish you could see it with me!’ in black ink and ‘funny hat! FUNNY HAT! lady with really funny hat!’ in blue ink that made no sense at all and got a laugh from him.

That disappeared on a page a few flips over - ‘May 16 - don’t know why i came on a hunt this week. i just want to be at home with you. i want your arms around me and to say it’ll be okay. i hope i never do this to you.’ - and Grey sank bonelessly into the chair at the impact of the words with a sad sigh as if all his energy had been zapped out of him immediately. His fingers ran over and over the last words mindlessly, eyes focused on the bright yellow flowers that was so different to the sudden tight feeling in his chest.

—

“Hun, hun come on what… what on earth got into you?” Grey found himself shaking his head against her neck once Jo had popped back in from the backyard, the door left open and the sunlight coming in gently through the screen door. He’d stared for long enough that the dog had barked several times and then Jo had called a few times, before she ended up coming back to his side without his noticing until his arms had wrapped about her.

“Nothing, pretty one, nothing. I just…” He stumbled over what to say for a few moments before pressing his lips to her neck gently and sighing quietly. “I just never had something like this, and I just..”

“I love you too, hun.”

“Yes, that.” Grey let out a quiet laugh, pulling back to look at the wide grin on Jo’s face as she looked up at him. “I love you too.”

“So nice of you to say, brother, you are still my favorite!” The cheery voice came as a surprise, but was extremely familiar such that neither Grey or Jo jumped at the sound from the back door. Glancing over, he felt himself smiling at his sister as she waved from outside the door - peculiarly dressed in an almost identical purple dress as the blonde’s, where the shadow would never usually deign to appear in the same clothes as anyone else. Shada smiled cheerfully before she rapped her knuckles against the door frame. “Am I allowed to just come in if you can see me and the doors already open?”

“Yes, Shada. Come on in-”

“And make sure you let Nana in too so we can keep an eye on her.”

“You and this little dog.” There was a tutting that followed as the shadow opened the back door and paused to allow the dog through before her, before shutting the fly screen behind her. Shada moved around looking about the kitchen with a bemused smile. “Are you two redecorating?”

“Jo’s idea it seems.” Grey replied, giving the hunter a quick final squeeze before moving towards his sister. He heard the blonde moving off towards the front room to set the dog up to relax for the morning while he wrapped an arm around the other shadow’s shoulders in a brief hug. “I didn’t know you were coming over today.”

“Cupcake said something about a… celebratory day?” There was a flash in the other’s eye that Grey noticed immediately, and an uncertain twist of her lips and tone as Shada paused over the choice of words for a moment. As he let go of the quick hug, the other pulled a small purple wrapped gift out of her handbag and shoved it towards him. “She said something about a gift.”

“What? Shada, what did you-”

“Cupcake said that we were to share how much we love you on this date each year. It’s traditional to give a gift, right?” The brunette tilted her head up at him and waggled the gift at him again impatiently. “And it’s traditional for you to take it and then say thank you and shower me with praise for the thanks for my thoughtfulness.”

Grey laughed at that as he accepted the gift from the other, and moved towards taking one of the seats at the kitchen table. The other shadow followed, picking and plucking at the odd flower here and there across the table top before plopping down in the end seat - reaching out to fiddle with the necklace displayed on the table curiously before stopping at his disapproving look.

As the brunette settled, plucking one of the white snowdrops up and spinning it in her fingers instead, Grey turned his attention back to the gift before sliding the wrapping off gently. He was almost unsurprised to see it was simply a photo of a wardrobe of clothes that the fashionable shadow would consider stylish with the words ‘to be in yours’ written on the back. He let out a bit of a chuckle, and looked across at the expectantly waiting look on the other’s face.

“So?” Shada chirped out, one well groomed brow raised at him with a twitch of her lips. “What do you say, brother?”

“Thank you, Shada. I really appreciate it.” Grey replied in response, shaking his head as he flipped it back over and tried not to think over how the other went about getting them. He trusted his sister to behave properly when it comes to covering her tracks, but sometimes she definitely had a more flippant streak that could one day get her in trouble again. Setting the photo down, Grey smiled back across at her. “I really do, you’re so sweet, you did not have to do so much.”

“Of course I did! You’re my favorite brother after all.” Shada practically preened under the attention, turning to pick at her nail polish. “And also, Cupcake’s idea gave me the perfect opportunity to help fix- I mean, help work on your style for once.”

Grey bit down on the desire to roll his eyes or do anything more than smile bemusedly at the other. It was a point Shada tried with everyone in some way - to play dolls or help with ‘fixing’ the style that felt comfortable to what she thought was a better choice for them, but it was usually very subtly done. Perhaps the other would avoid pushing the topic again until Christmas now she’d gotten to scratch the itch with Jo’s ideas.

“So! Nana’s gone for a bit of a nap, the silly thing, but I was thinkin’ we could hang out for a while - maybe…” Jo’s voice came into the room before her as she bustled in through the door, smiling and rather amusingly appeared to have tucked her dress up a little bit by pinching it into the side hems of her underwear from the way it was bunched on either hip, before brushing about towards the fridge. “Drinks?”

“Yes please, cu- Jo.” The female shadow replied, and Grey bobbed his head in a nod when he caught the blonde’s eye before he began flipping through the empty sketchpad to have something to do with his hands. He could feel his ears heating up as the girls began talking back and forth about the holiday season coming up as Jo moved about to get the three of them drinks, that the two were talking and planning activities together for the season made him feel warm inside.

—

“Pass the fruit salad please, cupcake.” Shada asked as she set the plate of sandwiches and pastries back down on the blanket between the group. The blonde passed the other the glass bowl of salad across to the other before taking a bite of her cucumber sandwich. There was a murmured ‘thanks’ while the shadow dished out a serving of fruit onto her plate as the sun ducked behind some cloud.

The trio had sat around the kitchen for the remaining few hours of the morning - Jo and Shada had talked at length about Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years which was mostly Shada asking questions and Jo talking about her past traditions and such; while Grey had actually cracked open the sketchbook itself and taken advantage of the interesting array of flowers about the place to test out his new charcoal pencils and charcoals. There were three pages of flowers - sunflowers in massive blooms across the pages with snowdrops and snapdragons flowed between them - and tucked in among them was drawings of the sharp edges of Jo’s necklace and the soft lines of profile studies of the pair of women alike. He had barely noticed the morning disappear between the sketching and the calm, friendly atmosphere that had filled the room.

Just before midday, Jo had been a flurry of movement without explanation - pulling Tupperware containers and plates out of the fridge and placing them onto the tray from the morning - while Shada had asked Grey innocent questions about his drawings in a distracting manner while the blonde breezed in and out through the back door. Grey had found it peculiar and felt himself smiling to realise that yet again Jo was up to something, and that his sister also appeared to be working in conjunction for whatever the next surprise was.

It was definitely a surprise for him when he finally was corralled out of the seat and into the backyard.

The tree was still where it usually was, the golden leaves still attached and falling down in equal measure upon the ground; the rusty old shed was still in place with it’s silvery gold color from the metal sheeting and the patches of rust that had grown over the years it had stood there. The fences were all still the same as they had been when he’d taken Nana out for a last pee-break before bed the night before. Those were practically the only things that remained the same as they always did.

Instead of dying grass patches, scruffy splotches of gravel and cracked concrete pavers was a lush roll of grass. Instead of pocked and dying bushes were thick green hedging and bunches upon bunches of rose and peony bushes in full bloom - all the more stunning given that they were blooming out of season. Instead of broken pots and rusty garden implements was a blue and white gingham picnic blanket covered with plates and containers of food, all clearly home-made and worked over with care and love by Jo in secret with both shadows’ tastes in mind from the look of the vegetarian and healthy styles of each piece.

He had been staggered, literally even as the fluffy dog went running from the back door through his legs and sending him stumbling down the stairs, at the transformation of the space and the sheer effort that had been put into this part of his surprises by the blonde.

“No! Nana! Not the food!” Jo’s shriek came from beside him before she flung herself after the dog, only catching a hold of the dog’s collar when the pup drew to a sharp halt at the deep, warning growl that came from the shadowy spot under the tree by the blanket. “Oh thank goodness, thanks Amon. Nana, no you naughty girl!” The blonde’s tone was firmer with the word than it had been that morning as she moved to tie the dog’s collar up with the rope loped around the tree’s base just out of range for the Bernese to reach the picnics contents.

Grey followed after his sister down the steps towards the group, looking in surprise as the demon made no move to shift away from the boisterous dog that usually frustrated and annoyed the demon-wolf to the point of disappearance. Instead, Amon remained calmly in his original position and only let out the quietest of growls when the pup tried to sniff at his jowls before Nana moved to lay down in the dappled sunlight.

It had been a quiet but cheery affair from there as the women set about dishing up food, including an almost horrifying query from the hunter as to if the demon wanted anything - “Sandwich? Babka? I’ve got a steak in the fridge?”, as the trio talked with the occasional interjection from the wolf in the form of a grumble or groan or growl until all the food was done with and Jo cleared the remaining bits up and inside. Shada followed after with a secondary armful while Grey lent against the warm and stabilising firmness of his first friend and long-time companion in a comfortable silence between them while the real dog lay sleeping quietly nearby.

The girls had reappeared with the new sketchbooks and the pencils and watercolor parts alike shortly after, as well as a stack of magazines for one of them and a few books for the other. Grey had blinked in surprise when they sank down and started reading their own choices without any further comment, other than a raised brow from the blonde when he’d asked what the plan was for the afternoon. He could feel the amusement rolling off of both women and the wolf-demon alike at his confusion before he broke into a wide smile of his own at the suggestion scrawled across the first of the watercolor pages of ‘models for the afternoon - at your disposal’.

—

“I’ll give you a hand with the potato salad, missy.”

“Thanks Ed,” Jo replied with a smile as she got up and moved towards the kitchen. “You two pick a movie or somethin’ alright?”

“Sure thing Jo.” Harry replied as Grey picked up the remote from where the hunter had tossed it while Ed followed after his fellow blonde to the kitchen without any fanfare.

The afternoon had been a blissfully slow and relaxing one - made up of sketching the two girls and then practicing with his watercolors to find just the right shade of golden for Jo’s hair or the perfect mix of blue and red paints for the purple that Shada favored, as well as almost blackening his entire hand from the charcoal sticks as he’d sketched the moment Jo had fallen asleep in the sun and ended up stretched out in front of the wolf like the image of some damsel and a big bad wolf from a fairytale - and as the sun had gotten low the younger shadow had required hugs upon hugs of farewell before she headed off for the night, and the blonde had been nudged gently awake by the demon’s paw. Jo’d rushed inside in a panic (and also to change it seemed from the jeans and tshirt she’d been in when Grey got inside) and Grey had found himself sitting quietly with a hand against the warm fur of his friend for a good ten minutes just asking how much help the demon had provided to the hunter, and thanking him quietly for his efforts before dragging his feet inside expecting the surprises to be done with for the day.

“So, what you think we should watch?” Grey asked of the other as they both sank further into either end of the couch and the shadow flicked about on the remote to bring up the Netflix account he and Jo shared with the bar inhabitant. They could really all get their own, but it was easy enough each of them having their own account under the joint payment, and Grey laughed as he clicked off of Jo’s - with all romcoms and trashy baking or cooking shows evident in her list section and rewatch list - into the researcher’s account instead.

“God, none of those.” The other laughed, shaking his head as he tugged the fabric of his jeans up on his knee before stretching his legs out onto the coffee table. Harry shook his head and looked over at the other with an amused look. “Never would have picked that the princess watched all that sort of stuff from looking at her.”

Grey shook his head, laughing along in response before spotting the first and then next two of the Cornetto series in the other’s list of recommended movies. “Want to make it a bit of a mini-marthon?” He asked, having the first of them pulled up and highlighted with a curious look at the other before adding. “And yeah, Jo, uh, definitely has some secret girly behavior. She baked a cake for tonight that she thinks I didn’t see-”

“Jo baked? Fucking jackpot!”

“Heh, exactly. Seemingly she tried to, uh, ice sunflowers on the top from the look of it.”

“How bad does it look and how much do I have to practice my poker face to avoid laughing?” Harry asked quietly with a grin, as the shadow caught his eye with an equal but softer smile. “Or is it actually good?”

“It’s pretty decent, yeah. Just..”

“Not very Jo?”

“Exactly.” Grey grinned back at the complete understanding from the researcher, flicking up and down on the remote before moving to put on some ‘next episode’ of the Gravity Falls cartoon that Harry had been seemingly watching on his account when it seemed clear the other two were going to take a while.

“Okay, good good, I don’t have to worry about Jo’s pliers any time soon.” Harry replied good naturedly, a chuckle coming after that made it clear he’d well and truly learned there was nothing to fear from the blonde’s threats or comments any more. There was a moment and then the researcher shifted and held a hand out with an envelope towards the shadow with an air of nonchalance that Grey wasn’t used to from the other. “Oh, by the way, given this is a quasi-birthday type thing - I got you something.”

“Oh, uh... Thank you.” Grey stumbled over the words as he took the thin envelope from the other, feeling the contents inside with his fingers and figuring it would just be a card of some sort. It wasn’t like he expected anything more from anyone for a day that wasn’t really important or special or significant in any way to anyone else, especially when it wasn’t really a birthday or a genuine celebration in Grey;s mind. Jo had just decided to do something on a date he’d told her he felt was important to him; it wasn’t like Harry knew what the date signified for him, an almost rebirth from the cold, wet and darkness into standing on his own two feet, so Harry couldn’t or shouldn’t have thought to get him more than a card. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“Sure I should! You got me backstage passes for They Might Be Giants for my birthday.”

“That wasn’t really hard for me though-”

“Yeah well, you still deserved something.” Harry replied with a shake of his head as he appeared to dart his eyes between the brightly colored cartoon on the screen where the siblings were fighting some interdimensional something or other and Grey’s own look. “Jo mentioned you were a fan so I thought...”

Grey frowned in confusion at that before sliding a finger under the lip of the envelope and his frown slid away into a look of surprise and then happiness at the two concert tickets that he pulled out for within the next month. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t have bought his own tickets or gotten in at any point without a single question or issue - but it was the thoughtfulness and clear attention and care it meant for the other to have gone out of his way to get them for him that really was touching about it.

“Th-th-thanks so much, Harry. This... this means so much.” Grey stammered over the words, running his fingers over the name of the artist and the date for a few weeks away that he’d already been told by Jo she would be home for, as he smiled across at the other. “Thank you.”

“No worries man,” The other replied with a friendly grin as he smiled back across. “I’m glad you like them - wasn’t sure if Jo was just trying to get something for herself with it-”

“Nah, Jo’s not a huge fan of his. Or at least not as much of one.”

“Oh good. Well, I’ve heard he signs autographs out the back if you wait long enough too so, I’m sure Jo’ll stand out the back with you.”

“She sure will,” The blonde’s voice cut over them as she shuffled into the room holding two plates of dinner and two sets of cutlery while the other followed after with the other plates and cutlery for him and the researcher, both with bemused smiles on their faces.

“So... what are we watching tonight, boys?” Ed asked as he set his plate and Harry’s down gently on the coffee table while Jo did the same for her’s and Grey’s, reaching for his beer afterwards. “Or we doing kids shows?”

“Cornetto Triology!” Harry replied joyfully as he grabbed the remote from where Grey had sat them and switched it over to the first of the movies to the happy noises from the two blond’s at the declaration.

As the first scene started and all four began tucking into their dinners with the occasional quoting along from all three of the others, Grey found himself smiling wider as he ran his eyes around the room to take in the new group of friends all there to spend time and enjoy their company. And to share and enjoy it with him as well. It felt so very normal, so very human and so very comforting, and he found himself grinning as he caught Jo’s eye that she’d made him feel like that on this date all over again.

—

“This was amazing.”

“It wasn’t really..”

“No, it... it really was. I never-”

“It’s nothin’, hun. You’ve always... you always do so much for me-”

“Yeah, but that’s for you-!”

“And this was all for you. You deserve more but I got as much done as I could today.”

“This was so so amazing, though. I never... I never could have even thought or imagined this.”

“Oh. ...Well... I’m glad you had a good time.”

“It was better than good, pretty one, it was so much better than good.”

“Huh, I’m goin’ to have to make sure to better it next year then.”

“I have total faith in you being able to-”

“-and I’m goin’ to have to really make it a surprise, hun.”

“Oh I look forward to you knocking my socks off.”

“Speaking of...”

—

#ca #greypov #cc

[bloodandcream]

losing control, prompt for @samanddeaninpanties, SamxCasxJimmy+hunger, ~800 words, explicit

Sam sat under the unflattering harsh wash of Denny’s lighting and enjoyed his heart healthy egg white with spinach omelette, watching as the twins in the booth across from him poured an ungodly amount of syrup over everything and started to viciously attack the truly impressive mounds of food on each of their respective plates.

Honestly, Sam has never seen anyone with worse eating habits than Dean.

Granted, they were all pretty drunk, and a little high, and it was four AM on a Sunday. But the twins had both ordered plates stacked with pancakes, eggs, hash browns, sausages, bacon and toast. They had milkshakes too. Despite the fact that they both ordered the same thing, they ate off each other’s plates. Cas took Jimmy’s bacon, Jimmy took Cas’ sausage. It was like watching two Dean’s.

Sam finished his omelette and sipped on his - unsweetened - ice tea.

After inhaling half of a pancake in a single bite, Cas looked up at him, syrup glistening on his lips, and asked, “Are you sure you’re not still hungry?”

“No, I’m good.”

Cas hummed and stabbed a piece of bacon on Jimmy’s plate.

Jimmy at least had more polite manners, wiping his mouth on a napkin and swallowing when he said, “I don’t know how you get so buff, you hardly seem to eat.”

Sam shrugged, familiar with the line of questioning. “Protein shakes.”

The twins both squinted at him with perfect synchronicity, and as creepy as it could be sometimes, it also kind of really turned him on how they could both focus on him seemingly without any coordination or communication, like copies of each other.

Sam may still be sensible enough to order something mildly healthy, but weed always makes him horny and he’s been sporting a half-hard on just watching these two shove huge quantities of food into their mouths. Vindictively, he reaches across the table and swipes Cas’ strawberry milkshake for himself.

Cas shrugs, and swipes Jimmy’s vanilla shake.

Jimmy stabs a fork into the last pancake on Cas’ plate and drags it over to his.

-

The barbells laddered on the underside of Cas’ dick slide over Sam’s tongue, hard and skin warmed. Fingers tighten in his hair, Cas tilting Sam’s head upward, pressing against the back of his throat. Sam gags a second, relaxes, wills his body to accept it.

“Guess it’s good you won’t throw up after eating too much.” Cas says.

Indignantly, still struggling out of his clothes to the side of the ratty blue couch in the twins’ apartment, Jimmy huffs. “Hey, that only happened four times okay.”

“One time is too much, Jimmy.” Cas says.

Sam kind of just wants them to stop bickering and focus on him. They’re always bickering. Sometimes it’s cute. But right now, now Sam digs his blunt nails into the sharp lines of Cas’ hips and pulls him closer, throat clutching around his dick and Cas gasps, spasms under his touch.

The window curtains are gauzy lace and the morning sunlight is brightening, birds trilling outside the open windows cheerfully and it’s kind of annoying that they’ve spent so long out at the fet party and then getting breakfast-dinner that it’s a new day all bright and sunny and Sam just wants to get the kind of dirty you should do in the dark.

Finally naked, stumbling a little, Jimmy drags a hand down Sam’s back as he settles behind him, noisily kicking the coffee table out of the way.

Rubbing soothing circles over Sam’s hip, Jimmy kisses down the line of his spine gently, sweetly, while Cas continues roughly fucking his throat.

“How much prep do you want, Sam?” Jimmy asks, always polite.

Cas pulls back, leaves Sam gasping for air.

He shaved and cleaned before meeting the twins last night, in preparation of course, and Sam is kind of feeling disconnected from his body and he wants it to hurt a little so he says, “Just fuck me.”

Cas fingers curl against his jaw, pulling his head up to look and Cas smiles at him, blue eyes bright and so fond, “Such a pretty fucktoy for us,” he says.

Heat blooms in Sam’s gut and his dick taps merrily up against his stomach. Praise and adoration really is all he needs.

“Such a good boy,” Jimmy agrees.

Cas holds his dick steady with one hand and slaps it against Sam’s mouth, slides in deep as Sam opens. Sam hears the crinkle of a condom wrapper and Jimmy spreads two fingers slick wtih lube into him, perfunctory, and then there’s the blunt pressure as he presses, Sam breathes deep, feels himself open and it’s sharp and bright for a moment then starts to twist with that tight sort of pleasure and Sam goes lax.

Cas cradles his face and fucks his mouth, Jimmy holds his hips gently and rolls in deep steady motions, and Sam. He may deny himself certain kinds of hunger because discipline and control is important in many aspects of his life, but this, in the right hands losing control is exactly what he wants.

#samanddeaninpanties #samxcasxjimmy #alternate universe #drunk and high sex #bottom sam #spit roasting #man i just really like spit roasting okay

[sorceressmidnight]

Midnight Sorceress

Chapter: 3/? [1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - ?]

Chapter 3: That’d be weird!

Words: 2515

Warnings: Some cursing, Mentions of drinking, Drunken character, Self harm mentions, abandonment

Primarily following the events of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it revolves around an original character.

Description as posted on ao3:  A member of SHIELD is forced to struggle with her mental stability and keeping her secret as the craziness surrounding the Avengers crashes around her. She ends up befriending Tony and Pepper, who help out her mental health a great deal, but will they be able to help her with her secret? Something that could destroy her if she uses it too much… What will happen when Tony tries to convince her to use it to help the Avengers?

Read on ao3: here

Tags: @txnystarkimagines @h0bsyrup

Hit me up if you want to be tagged in future chapters.

This chapter happens after Iron Man 3 and before Captain America Winter Soldier.

-buzz buzz, buzz buzz- “Hello?” “Is this Miss Mariveil? Mr. Stark sent me.” “Okay, I’ll be down in a second.” Kiana shoved her wallet and keys into her right pocket, slipping her phone into her left as she walked out the door. She zoomed down the stairs and out the building, shaking her head at the limo waiting outside. ‘It’s not like it’s that big of a deal, jeez.’ She felt her phone buzzing after she got in and as the limo pulled out onto the street, accepting the call and pressing it to her ear. “Where are you? Everyone else is here on time,” she could hear the sarcasm in Tony’s voice as he spoke. “Sorry, looks like the ass who booked me a limo decided to call pretty last minute. Not my fault. Also, you didn’t give me a dress code, so I hope you don’t mind super casual.”

“Super, huh? I didn’t know it was my birthday,” he chuckled on the other end. “Maybe when you die and go to heaven, Tony,” she retorted sternly, trying to stifle a giggle. “Ouch. So mean,” he sniffled, laughing before finishing, “okay okay. You should get here in about ten minutes. I’ll see you when you get here.”

Kiana strolled into the restaurant, shaking her head about how out of place she looked compared to the other people dressed to the nines. She was escorted to where Tony was sitting, seeing Rhodes and Pepper sitting with him as well. “I didn’t know I’d be this underdressed,” she scoffed as she sat down at the empty seat between Rhodes and Pepper. “Oh, don’t worry, he’s never been good at forewarning,” Pepper joked, rolling her eyes at Tony. Tony laughed in response, waving his hand, “It’s not my fault that no one else can read my mind.” “I don’t think anyone wants to be in there,” Rhodes retorted, shaking his head. The group talked as they ate, sharing jokes, making new ones, and telling embarrassing stories. Pepper was impressed with Kiana’s quick responses to Tony’s snarky retorts and Rhodes enjoyed her kicking him down a notch when he went a little overboard. About halfway through dinner, a drink was offered to Kiana. “Oh, no. I don’t drink.” “Nat told me you decided that after she handed you some drinks to try. I know what she drinks and based off your drink preferences, doesn’t seem anywhere near your type.” “... Okay, you got me there. If I try it, will you leave me alone?” All she got in response was a grin and a raise of his glass. She rolled her eyes and raised the glass, pretending to toast before taking a sip.

Dinner started around nine, surprisingly early for Tony, and didn’t end until about one thirty in the wee hours of the morning. Tony was helping the poor drunken agent walk out the door, telling Rhodey to go with Pepper and he’d help Kiana get back. “If something happens, I’ll bring the light weight back home with me.” He pulled her into the car, making sure she was comfortable before sliding in next to her. “Tony... Did you know… *hic* that a surprisingly large amount of people want you to be their daddy? N-not… *hic* in the pervy way! Like… they hope they’re secretly your kids from some random fuck you’ve probably had.” He chuckled, watching her flail her arms about as she talked, “do you?” “Noooooooooo, no, no, no. That’d be weird!” she exclaimed, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Why would it be weird?” he asked, brushing her hair out of her face. “Because,” she whined, “I love m’dad, but… I can be closer and more open with you than I could wiff him. I feel like I could tell you anythin’ and you wouldn’t judge me… I would never judge you, either~ I mean, you used to piss me off because I thought you were nothing but a cocky son of a bitch who didn’t care about anyone but himself… *hic*... What was I sayin’? … ... Oh, right~ You care a lot more than you’d like to let on and that’s… that’s nice. I know life’s been pretty hard on ya, but I think yer doin a pretty great job out there in the world.” He couldn’t help but give a smile down towards her as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder after drunkenly moving about during her… ‘speech’. He gently pushed her back into her seat, moving the strands of hair from her face once more. “Also!! I probably won’t remember much… I barely remember what’s happened tonight… so don’t hold it against me or I might get mad. My brain is saying I can trust you, so don’t take advantage of that!!” “Alright, I won’t,” he couldn’t stifle his laugh as his brows raised. “So… I dunno why I have this, but… if I use it too much, I could die. That happened when I was in college. There was this explosion… the ceiling started collapsing in the cafeteria… I… I remember the screaming being unbearable… All I could do was focus on the chunks of ceiling… I struggled... but I kept it up for as long as I could. I looked around to see the other students were gone and I… I let go... I couldn’t handle holding it up any longer and it all came crashing around me. Next thing I knew… *hic*... I was being told that SHIELD was going to take me in to get me healed up properly and for my protection…” “How did you hold it up?” He tilted his head, brows knitted with curiosity. “Like *hic* this!” she yelled out, looking over towards the mini bar, cooing out, “come here~” A bottle floated up from its spot, moving towards the two on the other side of the vehicle. She grabbed it, threatening to open it up. He grabbed it from her and shook his head. “No more for you tonight, but I think you might be better spending the weekend at my place.” He let the driver know to head back to the tower instead of her apartment. “Don’t tell me I told you. I already have anxiety among other things. *hic* Wait! You read my file! You should know!” “Yes, I did,” he gently held her hand, using his free hand to slide her sweater up her arm. His thoughts could only return to when he actually got the chance to look over her file.

Tony grinned triumphantly as he looked at his computer screen. He had managed to sneak through every security level that SHIELD had, plus rummaging through some paper files just in case that was the ‘security’ she was talking about. He clicked on the file labeled ‘AGENT MARIVEIL’ and opened it up.

FILE: AGENT KIANA LI MARIVEIL NAME: Kiana Alexa Evans DATE OF BIRTH: December 1st PLACE OF BIRTH: London, England CURRENT LOCATION: [REDACTED] PREVIOUS LOCATION: New York City, New York ETHNIC BACKGROUND: English, German, Irish, Italian OCCUPATION: [REDACTED] at SHIELD HEIGHT: 5'3" WEIGHT: 135 lbs. EYE COLOR: Cyan HAIR COLOR: Blonde (Natural); Black (dyed) EYES: Contacts of [REDACTED] prescription, glasses FEATURES: Scars all over body, focused heavily on underside of arms EDUCATION: Some college; experience in four separate degrees ABILITIES: [REDACTED]

PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION:

NICKNAMES: Kiki (preferred), Kia, Alex, Lex, Lexa, Lexi SEXUALITY: Bisexual (questioning if "poly" or "pan"-sexual) OTHER FEATURES: Freckles (embarrassed about), heart shaped pendant with picture of agent with parents MANNERISMS/QUIRKS: Agent followed the childhood lesson 'treat others how you wish to be treated' rather strictly. She never talks down to anyone above her, yet she has not been afraid to argue with agents of her same level. She will defend herself if another agent is being crude or harassing her. She has commented that some people would "piss" her off if she were in presence of. (This comment particularly coming up after the Avengers initiative, though not directly said, implying Mr. Tony Stark.) A noticeable quirk she has is moving her hands a lot when she speaks, or pulling her hair or "playing with it" when she becomes anxious. She has a particular habit to downplay many of her symptoms. DIAGNOSIS: Major Depressive Disorder (Depression, Severe), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (Anxiety), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) related to her powers, Paranoia focused around being taken advantage of for her powers

DR. [REDACTED]: Kiana, could you tell me what your earliest memory is? KIANA: I remember... mum and I were playing games together in the backyard... I believe it was in the sandbox. There was a pause and she looked nervous, but said she wanted to tell me something important. I remember her saying, voice breaking as her eyes grew sad, 'Sweetheart, I know this may be hard to understand... but your father and I thought we should tell you.' She sighed and continued, 'We're... We're not your biological parents... I found you at the hospital that I work at... and... seeing as no one was there saying you were theirs... We took you in. I understand if you're upset-' her tone was desperate, knowing she could be breaking a child by saying what she did. I cut her off before she could finish, though, grabbing her hand within my tiny ones and responding, 'You'll always be my mummy! No matter what, you're my mummy and nothing can change that! Same with daddy!' She cried, which at the time confused me, but they were happy tears. I still feel the same way now as I did that day.

DR. [REDACTED]: What would you consider your saddest memory? KIANA: I... wouldn't personally call it the saddest, but rather the most unsettling. I was talking to my mum when I was a teenager... I decided to ask her if she knew anything about my birth parents. I didn't particularly care, I think I was just looking to fill in the gaps that were missing... It was then she told me what she had found out. There was a couple who wanted a baby, but due to an accident the wife couldn't get pregnant. They made an agreement with a woman, who was in need of money, to get pregnant and carry their baby. When all was said and done, they were going to buy her a house as a final compensation. It was a mere six months later that the couple divorced. It was heated and rather vile divorce, so much so that the woman carrying the child lost contact with both of them after getting a hefty sized check. It was too late for her to get an abortion safely, on either end, and so she carried the baby out to term. She went to the hospital and had the baby, but left before they could get any information on her or what the baby would be named. A baby girl was left, nameless with no family at the hospital. It was at this point, my mum who worked an early shift, came in and found the baby all alone with no one to claim it. She adopted the baby and raised it. That baby was obviously me, but... I can't imagine what would have happened if I didn't end up with my parents. I am angry, reasonably, as any child would be. It shows that they never truly cared about me, and of course it shows how unwanted I really was in their eyes.

PREFERENCES: CAFFEINE: Coffee with creamer and milk DRINK: Sprite, Raspberry infused water, CAR: A functioning one VACATION: Go to hometown or Egypt HOBBIES: Reading, Hiking in the rain, Writing, Learning, Martial Arts, Sparring, Swimming FAVORITES: Candle scents-fruity or the smell of the ocean, warmth of the sun, the breeze pulling against my hair FOOD: Zebra cakes. "Buy me a pack of zebra cakes and you'll have my attention for at least a day." MEALS: Sweet and sour chicken, fish and chips with cheesy broccoli, or a fried rice with sauteed chicken ANIMAL: Felines; Snow leopards in particular.

ADDITIONAL COMMENTS: It is apparent that many of Agent Mariveil's scars along her arms have been self inflicted. Based off of her last physical, she is still self harming. I have devised a plan to attempt to ease her depression if only to help with that aspect of it. She also appears to be isolating herself and disallowing herself to get close to others. It is my theory that it is due to fear of using her powers to save those she is close to and thus potentially putting herself at risk.

It should also be worth noting that her abilities can become of great use if she can manage them without exerting herself. In her most recent physical, a scan of her brain seems to show some form of blockage. Further study needs to be conducted into what it is effecting and how serious it is.

He frowned slightly. There was still some information that he wanted, but this was more than enough for now. He couldn’t help but feel a little worse now after seeing how worried she was about him and opening up to him about something that made her feel so vulnerable. He would try to do something to help her if only to give her some ease of mind.

He frowned as he looked over the nasty red lines and scabs that littered her skin, thumb gently running along the back of her hand. He blinked as he heard soft snoring, looking over to see her resting against him, passed out. He took this time to further examine her arm, unhappy with how recent some of the wounds were. He could tell how hard she was struggling with her depression and attempting to stop herself from the harm. There were clear signs that she was cleaning her arms, probably due to being inside of the heavy SHIELD uniform most of the time. He gently pulled the sleeve back down and rested his head against the top of hers. “Oh, what are we going to do with you, Kiki?” His brain was already whirring with ideas as the gears turned, thinking over multiple things at once during the quiet drive back to the tower. Once there, he picked her up and carried her to an empty bedroom before lying her down on it. He grabbed a bottle of water and put it next to the bed with some pain relievers, making sure the room was cool enough for her not to overheat under the blankets.Before he pulled the blankets over her, he softly said ‘Goodnight, Kiki’. “Don’t leave…” she murmured, voice cracking in her half-asleep daze as she grabbed his hand. He blinked, but decided that it wouldn’t hurt to stay with her. He knew she’d freak out, but at the same time would feel better seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar environment. “I am making fun of you for this, though,” he teased and pulled the blankets up. He only got ‘shush’ in response, making him chuckle. 

#tony stark #original character #tony stark x original character #tony stark x oc #tony stark x reader #iron man #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #avengers #marvel fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

[favvnsongs]

<3~

Chris looks at his black eye in the mirror.

“Uh-oh,” Alicia says, making him start violently and wish he’d closed the door. “Difference of opinions in the cafeteria?”

He glares at her in the mirror, one eye starting to swell up. “The parking lot.”

Alicia clicks her tongue. “Still on campus. Want me to narc?”

He walks towards her, almost toe to toe before she yields ground. As soon as she’s clear he wraps a hand around the edge of the door. “No,” he says, and shuts the door in her face.

++

Chris turns his alarm off and lies in his bed staring at the ceiling. He listens to the sounds of Alicia moving around in her room, the pipes squeaking on in the bathroom, the clatter as she goes through the kitchen. He waits for the thump of the front door as she leaves but instead she raps at his door. “Chris?”

“I’m sick,” he says, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard through the door. “I’m not going.”

The doorknob rattles. “Let me in.”

“Go away.”

It rattles more insistently. “Let me in or I’ll call Travis.”

He leans over to grab a sneaker off the floor and fling it at the wall next to her. “Go away, Alicia!”

Her footsteps recede. The front door slams. Chris rolls over and drags his pillow up over his head.

++

Chris waits for his father to bang at the door. Or for Madison to call him to dinner. For Alicia to rattle at his doorknob and curse him out. Instead he listens to everyone come home and the stove pop the way it does and the clink of silverware on porcelain, the muted rumble of the television.

++

His alarm doesn’t go off the next morning because he doesn’t bother to set it. He waits for everyone to leave before he rambles through the house, going to the bathroom and picking through the leftovers in the fridge.

He’s watching daytime television when Alicia comes home, abruptly in the middle of the day. He’s frozen half standing on the couch, torn between staying and fleeing, and she rolls her eyes when she sees him. She steals the bag of cheese chips from his hands and tells him to go to take a fucking shower.

++

He’s tousling his hair dry when she barges in on him. “Jesus,” he yelps, trying to cover himself and not tip over backwards into the tub. “What the fuck?”

She pauses in the doorway, dragging her eyes up and down him. “Hm.”

He throws a loofa at her. “Get out!”

++

She’s on his bed when he’s recovered enough to get dressed and shuffle back to his room, and he sighs heavily before going to lay down next to her. She rolls on her side to face him. “Nobody likes an Eeyore, Christopher.”

“Nobody likes someone who doesn’t know how to knock.”

“Nobody likes someone who doesn’t know how to knock,” Alicia repeats, high pitched and whiny.

Chris sighs and closes his eyes. He thinks if he ignores her long enough, she’ll get bored of him again and wander off. He can hear her breathing, the drag of her jeans on his sheets. And then the rustle of movement and a feather light touch on his bruised face. His breath catches. “Poor kid,” she murmurs, and when he opens his eyes she’s very close.

“I’m not a kid.”

She kisses his eyebrow and the air is frozen in his lungs. She smells like the sun and he’s weak against her warmth. She kisses his swollen shut eyelid, and then the underside of his jaw while he trembles. “Sleep light tonight,” she says, then rolls off his mattress and disappears out the door.

++

Chris waits up all night. Plays games on his phone and stays fully dressed with his sneakers on, legs folded up and sitting against the wall on his bed.

Nothing happens.

++

He’s waiting for her in the kitchen. “Hey,” she greets through a yawn, wrenching the fridge open and digging through for sandwich fixings. “Going to school today?”

“Yeah,” he snaps.

She grins at him, then tucks a rolled up piece of turkey into his mouth. “Good boy.”

He chases her into the dining room, snatching the toast from her hand. “Hey!”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Problem?”

“You… you said–” Chris falters. He swallows, mouth opening and closing. Outside, a horn honks.

“See you at lunch,” Alicia says, and leaves him there, toast in hand and crumbs on his pants.

++

Chris sits in English and feels a calm settle over him. His feet stop tapping and his brain stops whirring. He packs up all his things carefully, closing every pocket. When the bell rings he watches his feet take him to his locker, watches his fingers open it up and store his bag inside. He blinks once and he’s sitting under a tree holding an apple from the cafeteria. His teeth are imprinted in the flesh of the fruit and he can taste the bite of the peel on his tongue. He leaves the apple in the dirt and walks into the quad.

Alicia is sitting on a bench with two other girls, legs crossed and sunglasses prominent. Three feet from her, Derek from his math class is watching. Chris walks over, waits until Derek looks at him, and hits him square in his leering smirk.

++

“Chris,” Alicia is saying. Her hands are on either side of his face and the world is swimming but she’s in high definition, clear and solid and her voice pulling him back into himself. “Chris. Can you hear me?”

He’s lying on his back. A cloud floats across the blue sky behind Alicia’s concerned face; he can feel the cement against his spine. Hands grab him and drag him up–the school’s security officer starts dragging him towards the front office.

Alicia follows, her grip clenched in the sleeve of his hoodie. “Be careful! He’s hurt, you shouldn’t move him–” the officer pushes her away, gently but firmly, she trips in her own haste and yelps. Chris surges, snarling, her frightened wide eyes as he’s hauled away.

++

Alicia is waiting for him when he’s released into the care of his parents. She leaps up from the bench and hurries towards them, Travis and his stone cold fury and Chris feeling a little bit like he’s underwater. “Chris!” She ducks Travis’s arm and wraps him in a hug. “You’re okay,” she promises.

++

Pebbles rattle against his bedroom window in the middle of the night. Alicia is standing outside it, peering in. He wrenches it open. “We live together,” he reminds her.

She shrugs. “How bad was it?”

“No charges. Suspended for two weeks.”

She snorts. “You weren’t going anyway.”

Chris shrugs again.

She taps her fingers against the screen. “Come here, I wanna show you something.”

“Civilized people use doors,” he informs her, and starts to shut the window again.

She taps her nails more insistently. “Yeah, they do. So pop the screen and get out here.”

Chris gets dressed. Double knots his sneakers and grabs an extra hoodie from his closet. Pops the screen out and leaves it on the dewy grass and they sneak off into the night together.

++

“Here,” he says, when she shivers.

She tugs his hoodie over her head. “Thanks.”

“Where are we going?”

She bumps her shoulder against his. “Do you care?”

It’s very quiet, suburbia in the witching hour. The faintest hum of the bugs and the sound of the wind through the perfectly manicured trees. Every so often a motion activated porch light comes on, casting odd yellow shadows on the empty roads, or he hears a car door shut somewhere in the distance. Their feet scuff side by side on the sidewalk and her arm slips into his. He remembers the way her lips felt on his, his cheek beneath her palm.

“No,” he says, and they keep going.

#submission #ooooh alie how i adore you #calicia are the purest

[some1foundme]

Fic: Lost in the Memory ch. 9

Title: Lost in the Memory

Author: Some1FoundMe

Summary: Oliver Queen returns to his home in Star City after a five year tour overseas, much to the delight of his friends and family. There’s just one small problem. The injury that effectively ended his military career also erased a part of his memory.  As he struggles to put together the missing pieces of his past, his connection to his best friend’s little sister becomes something he can’t avoid. Who is Felicity Merlyn and why can’t he seem to stay away from her?  Olicity AU, no Arrow, no island.

A/N: Thank you all again for your kind words and support. I’m so glad that everyone is enjoying this ride with me.  And, as usual, I have to say thank you to my beta, westernbeauty, you’re incredible!

Read on AO3 or ff.net.

Chapter Nine

“Oliver, Thea, dinner!”

She couldn’t fight the smile on her face as she called her husband and niece into the kitchen.  It had been years since she’d called anyone other than Thea to a meal and the simple knowledge that Oliver was there with them made her heart flutter.  She’d missed him.  She had missed everything about having him beside her, so much so that even something as small as being able to sit down and share a meal with him was overwhelming.

Felicity had just set the casserole on the table when Oliver and Thea came into the room.  They were bickering playfully over the video game that they’d been playing as they took their seats.

“It smells great, Felicity.”

Oliver’s compliment made her blush as she dropped into her chair.

“Thank you.”

“Aunt Felicity is a really good cook,” Thea told him.

Oliver glanced at Felicity and she shook her head at Thea.

“What have I told you about lying?”

Thea giggled, hiding her smirk behind her hand and Oliver looked between them, clearly confused.

“I’m… not the best cook,” Felicity admitted, “Not by a long shot.  There are about a dozen staples that I’ve perfected over the years but if you ask me to make something new well… let’s just say I’ve mastered the art of burning water.”

Thea’s giggles turned into a bout of full-on laughter and Oliver chuckled.  The easy smile that he gave her brought out her own for just a moment before a sudden sense of longing struck her.  They’d lost so much time, time that she wanted to make up for, and if he’d come home without the amnesia, Felicity would’ve been overjoyed.  She would’ve done everything in her power to show him just how much he’d been missed.  But that wasn’t an option now.  He had been home for more than a week and she hadn’t even been able to kiss him.  She’d barely held his hand.

“Aunt Felicity’s a genius, though,” Thea was saying, the surety in her voice drawing Felicity’s attention, “So it doesn’t matter if she’s a bad cook.”

Oliver turned back to her with a grin.

“Genius, huh?”

Felicity shrugged, “Technically.  I mean, if you’re going by my IQ…”

Surprise and, if she was reading him correctly, pride colored his expression.

“Really?”

“I studied electrical engineering and information security at Wells.  It’s the university in –“

“Gotham, right?” Oliver asked.

Felicity nodded, “Right.”

She held out her hand to Thea and Thea took it, giving her free hand to Oliver.  He placed his hand in hers and waited.  Thea sighed.

“We’re saying grace, Uncle Oliver,” she explained, her exasperation evident, “You have to hold Aunt Felicity’s hand, too.”

Felicity and Oliver shared a quick look before he reached for her hand.  The moment that his warm, calloused fingers enveloped hers, Felicity gasped softly.  It was the first physical contact they’d had in days and even though it was small, it wasn’t insignificant.

If either Oliver or Thea noticed her reaction, neither of them mentioned it.

“Dear god, thank you for this day and for our meal.  Thank you for Aunt Felicity and Gramma Moira and Grandpa Robert.  Thank you for Papa, too.  Please tell my momma and daddy that I miss them,” Thea prayed softly, “And thank you for bringing Uncle Oliver home even though he’s still sick.  Amen.”

Oliver’s fingers flexed where he gripped her hand and when Felicity peeked over at him, his head remained bowed and his eyes were squeezed shut.  Thea had already dropped his hand and was scooping casserole onto her plate.

“Thea, honey, can you go get the milk and a couple of glasses, please?”

Thea sighed heavily as she pushed her chair away from the table and crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator. When she was out of earshot, Felicity tugged gently on Oliver’s hand.

“Are you okay?”

He blinked up at her and Felicity leaned back in her chair, startled by the well of emotion in his eyes. She hadn’t seen his pain before then, not really, and while she had known that he had to be suffering, seeing the evidence of it in his eyes took her breath away.

“Oh, Oliver…”

He shook his head, “I’m sorry, I just –“

Thea chose that moment to plop down in her seat, setting the milk jug and glasses on the table in front of her.

Oliver dropped Felicity’s hand.

“Aunt Felicity, can we toast marshmallows in the fireplace tonight?” Thea asked.

Tearing her gaze from Oliver, Felicity looked to her niece.

“Not tonight, kiddo.  Maybe this weekend okay?”

Thea rolled her eyes and pushed food around on her plate.  She was pouting, which wasn’t unusual, and Felicity ignored it.  She ate her own food, her eyes traveling from her niece on her right to Oliver on her left.  After a moment, however, she found herself enthralled with Oliver.  He ate quickly, barely breathing between forkfuls of her casserole, and she couldn’t look away.  When he’d cleared his plate, she realized both she and Thea were staring at him.

Oliver pushed his plate away.

“Dinner was great, Felicity, thank you.”

Finally noticing that he was being watched, he looked somewhat sheepish.

“What?”

Thea giggled again and Felicity grinned.

“Are you sure you even tasted any of it?  You sort of inhaled that.”

He shrugged, “It was good.”

They stared at one another for a long moment and Felicity felt something shift between them.  She had an overwhelming desire to reach for him, to sift her fingers through his hair, to press her lips to the stubble on his cheek.  But she tamped it down.  They were nowhere close to being that comfortable with one another and she was terrified that they never would be again.

She cleared her throat, “Thea, clear the table please.”

Thea did as she was told, gathering all three of their plates and carrying them to the sink.  As she moved around them, Oliver leaned forward on the table and rested his head in his hands.

“Tell me something, Felicity,” he requested.

“Like what?”

Thea came back for her second trip and disappeared again.  

Oliver lifted his head, “I need to know more.  Tell me something about us, tell me anything.”

Felicity sighed and scraped her fingers through her loose curls.  She didn’t know where to begin.  There was so much that she wanted to tell him, so many memories of their life that she wanted to share.

Shrugging, she said, “I guess the most logical place to start would be at the beginning.”

“Tommy.”

“Right, Tommy,” she nodded, “The two of you met in preschool, which I think you know, so you were friends before I was even born.  My earliest memories are of the two of you running around in our backyard. You were always together.  And as I got older, I started following both of you everywhere.  Tommy and I were close growing up, he was my best friend, and so it seems like it was always the three of us.  I wanted to be wherever Tommy was all the time.”

“So we were friends because of Tommy?” he asked.

She shrugged again, “It may have started out that way but… but when Tommy started spending time with other friends, with girls, you and I still… you were still my friend even when Tommy wasn’t with us.  Given the age difference, there wasn’t much that I was allowed to do but sometimes you’d take me for pizza or to the movies.  When you knew that Tommy was out with Laurel and I was home alone with the nanny, you’d come over and play Monopoly with me.  You kept me company a lot.  You – you were like another brother at first.  At least until I realized that I didn’t want you to be my brother.”

Oliver smiled softly, “I must’ve felt the same way if I was spending so much time with you without Tommy around.”

Felicity bit back her reply when Thea bounced back into the room and stood between them.

“Can I play Mario again?” she asked.

“I think you’re done for tonight, Thea.  How about you read for a little while and I’ll come up and say goodnight, okay? You’re still reading Chamber of Secrets, right?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you get through three more chapters and then lights out?”

“Okay,” she sighed, on the verge of pouting again, but Felicity chose to ignore it again.  

They were alone and Oliver, it seemed, wasn’t going to waste the moment.

“What changed, Felicity?” he asked, “When did you realize that you wanted something more?”

She hesitated.  Not every memory that they shared was pleasant. Certainly at the beginning.  But the night that their relationship turned from friendship into something more was a night that she didn’t want to recall. And she definitely didn’t want to have to explain it to Oliver.

“The other day, with my dad, you assumed that it wasn’t the first time he’d hit me and you were right.”

Oliver sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.  She found herself doing the same, mirroring his position.  She slid her finger along the underside of her wedding ring where it was fitted on her finger.  She’d been wearing it more and more since he’d come home.

“The first time that my father ever drank to the point that he became physically violent with us, I was seventeen.  You and Tommy had come home on leave and I was home from college for a few weeks that summer.  The four of us – Laurel was there, too – had taken the train to Metropolis for the day. We dropped Laurel at home first and you and Tommy were going to take me home before hitting Verdant with a couple of your friends.”

As the memory overwhelmed her, her heart beat roughly in her chest.  

“When we got to my parents’ house, Tommy walked me inside.  It was kind of late and we weren’t sure our parents were even home. But they were and – and we’d barely made it through the front door when my dad started in on us.  To be honest, I have no idea why he was so angry.  I do remember seeing my mom sitting on the sofa with tears in her eyes and a bright red mark on her cheek from my father’s hand. I lost it.  I went off on my dad, saying horrible things, things I never would’ve considered saying before.  But I was so angry.  I don’t – I don’t know if that was the first time he’d ever hit my mother but it was the first time Tommy or I had ever seen it.”

“Your dad wasn’t always an alcoholic.  He wasn’t always the nicest person in the world, definitely not the most affectionate father, but I don’t remember him being such a bastard.  And your mom… the woman I remember was a fighter.  I don’t understand why she would stay with him if he was hurting her.  Or if he hurt you or Tommy.”

Felicity shrugged, “I guess we’ll never know the answer.  I tried to talk to her about it after but… but she wouldn’t tell me anything. Anyway, something that I said really riled him because he hauled off and hit me.  He hit me so hard he knocked me on my ass.  God, I thought – I thought Tommy was going to kill him.  But my mom begged us to leave, to get out of the house, to just go away and … and it was like she was mad at us for what he’d done.”

Oliver’s jaw was clenched tight.

“Where the hell was I while this was happening?  In the car?” he asked.

“We’d already said goodnight and made plans to spend the next day together,” she told him, “Like I said, you and Tommy had other plans that night.  But Tommy pretty much carried me out of the house because I was so upset and when you found out what happened, god, Oliver… I thought you were going to go back in there and murder my dad.  Tommy wouldn’t let you get out of the car.  We ended up going to your parents’ house.  You told your parents what my dad had done and Moira insisted that Tommy and I stay there until you both went back to Havenrock and I went back to Gotham.”

Oliver’s anger was palpable. The scowl on his face would frighten anyone that it was directed at but to Felicity, it had always made her feel safe.

“You insisted that I stay in the guest room closest to you and Tommy was directly across the hall and I – I was just so upset and I didn’t want to talk about it anymore so I went up to bed.  You came in to check on me a little while later and I was a mess.  I couldn’t stop crying and I didn’t know what to do and you… you got into bed with me and held me until I feel asleep.”

She could feel the heat crawling up her chest and into her cheeks.  Oliver continued to watch her, waiting for her to continue, and she swallowed audibly.  

“You stayed with me all night.  And when we woke up the next morning we talked about us, about how we felt about each other.  You told me that I didn’t have to worry about my dad, that you would never let him hurt me. You – you promised to take care of me.”

He leaned forward and reached for her hand.  She gave it to him, holding on tightly.

“Felicity, I’m sorry. I – I wish that…”

She shook her head.

“Oliver, please, you don’t need to keep apologizing.  You shouldn’t have been apologizing to begin with.  None of this is your fault.  You haven’t done anything to apologize for.  Neither of us have any control over what’s happening.  I – I don’t want you to feel like you’ve done something wrong. You haven’t.  In any way.  You have never broken the promise that you made me that day, Oliver.  You have always, always, taken care of me.”

Warm tears spilled down her cheeks, startling her.  She’d been doing so well holding them back.

“I told you that I loved you that day,” she admitted softly, “You promised to take care of me and I told you that I loved you.”

“Did I say it back?”

She forced herself to smile, “You did.  That – it’s one of the best memories that I have of our relationship.  We spent an hour together, just you and me, and it was like nothing outside of that room existed.”

“And that’s when everything changed?  Your dad was the catalyst that finally pushed us together?”

She shrugged, “I guess you could say that.  But, looking back, I know it would’ve happened eventually.  It’s kind of unfortunate that that the beginning of our relationship is tainted by what my dad did.”

“How long were you in love with me before everything happened?”

Felicity shrugged again, “I – I don’t know.  I was only fourteen when you and Tommy left for basic training.  I hadn’t even graduated from high school yet.  I hardly saw you for almost two years.  But every time you came home, I was terrified that there’d be some girl with you.  I worried myself sick thinking that you’d find someone else before I could tell you how I felt.  Laurel knew, of course, from the very beginning.  She was always pushing us together, mostly after I’d turned sixteen, but I thought you didn’t notice because you never made a move.”

“Do you think that maybe it had something to do with Tommy?  Why I stayed away?  I can’t see him being too comfortable with his best friend chasing after his baby sister. Especially when you were sixteen and I was already twenty.”

She shook her head.

“No, I – I think, in a way, Tommy always suspected that you and I would end up together.  I don’t know that he ever encouraged you to pursue me or anything, but he never tried to keep us apart.  And when we finally started telling people that we were dating, he was really supportive.”

“But that was it, huh? The night your dad hit you for the first time and the morning after?  That was the beginning of all of this?”

“Officially I guess.”

“And unofficially?”

She grinned, “Like I said, I’d had feelings for you for a long time, I was just never sure how to tell you.  But I wrote to you almost every day.  Emails and text messages.  We at least said ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ every single day.”

“I must’ve loved you even then, to make sure you knew I was thinking of you every morning and every night. Pretty sure I wouldn’t have taken the time if I didn’t care about you,” Oliver mused.

“You told me later that you realized you loved me on my fifteenth birthday.  I had just graduated from high school and you and Tommy managed to swing leave for the day.  You’d missed graduation but neither of you had been willing to miss my birthday.  By that point, it had been close to six months since I’d seen either of you.  I was so surprised when the two of you crashed my party that I burst into tears… I never did tell Tommy that those tears were more for you than for him.”

Oliver chuckled, his eyes full of mirth, his tone teasing.

“Sounds like maybe he could’ve figured that one out on his own.”

Felicity flushed, “Yeah, he probably could have.”

“Why that birthday?” Oliver pushed, “It couldn’t have been the crying.”

She laughed, shaking her head.

“No, no it definitely wasn’t the crying.  Neither of you had a lot of time or money to get me a gift.  Hell, Tommy didn’t even bother getting me a card, but you – you made me a necklace.  At the time, I was really into archery – don’t ask – and you took an arrowhead and somehow made it into a beautiful star pendant.  When I opened it, I was so overwhelmed that my hands were shaking and I couldn’t undo the clasp.  You helped me put it on… and a couple of years later you told me that you loved me because I loved that necklace.  Because I had acted like it was the most important gift that anyone had given me. It was.  It was gorgeous and perfect and it meant the world to me because it came from you.  I cherished it.”

Oliver watched her for a long time, his intense eyes never leaving her face, and she met his gaze. She waited for him to say something.

“Do you still have it?” he asked eventually.

She smiled and fished beneath the collar of her sweatshirt for the chain that she always wore around her neck.  It was the same one that she used to keep her wedding band and engagement ring safe while she was working.  She held up the pendant for him to see.

“I’ve never taken it off.”

Oliver leaned forward and slid his finger along the chain, holding up the star to examine it more closely.

He was closer than he’d been all evening, so much so that she could smell just a hint of pine and leather from his aftershave, and the scent left her lightheaded.  She squeezed her eyes shut briefly.

“We were really happy, weren’t we?” Oliver murmured, “Happy and in love?”

Felicity nodded, fearing that she wouldn’t be able to reply without crying, and blinked her eyes open to find he’d moved infinitesimally closer.  

She swallowed hard, “Deliriously so.”

Oliver released the necklace, letting it fall to her chest, and stood.  He reached for her hand, tugging her to her feet and into the circle of his arms.

“I have a feeling it’s going to be easy,” he whispered, “Falling in love with you again,”

#arrow fanfiction #olicity au #some1foundme fic #lost in the memory fic