#bunch of pining loosers

[ineffablejaymee]

venom🤝richie tozier🤝steve harrington

✨pining for a scrawny looser/freak named eddie✨

#eddie brock #eddie munson #eddie kaspbrak #venom #steve harrington #richie tozier #symbrock #steddie #reddie #it movie #stranger things #bunch of pining loosers #HOW COULD I FORGET STEDE BONNET #edward teach #stede bonnet #our flag means death

[floraxxfauna]

⌜ropes, komaeda nagito⌟ waking up with a blindfold on and rope around your limbs there's not much choice ships ⎯⎯ komaeda nagito x fem!reader tropes ⎯⎯ yandere, unhealthy dynamics, bondage, masturbation, blindfolds, dubious consent

The bindings around your wrists did nothing to deter your protesting pulls against them. The rope burned your skin, raw to the touch and leaving tingles through your arms down to your core. Despite your opened eyes there was nothing before you. A black abyss created by the material around your eyes.

Where were you? The comfortable mattress beneath your back was familiar, you could feel the bundled pile of your comforter at the end, and a delicious smelling pillow laid under your head. Bed. You were in your bed.

You turned your head to where the window is, but no light protruded through the blindfold. Your nose ruffled on the pillow, you inhaled the scent as you tugged in the rope once more. The smell… it was familiar but it was not yours. It smelt salty with fresh pine. Almost like that of an earthy cologne.

Faint grunts left you as you pulled further on the rope, your legs flailing at the edge of the mattress in your frustration. Nothing. The knots were far too tight. Who did it? You had been sure you’d locked your door the previous night.

But, clearly, you were wrong. Your ears prickled at the soft moan around you. It wasn’t completely close by, certainly not near your bed, but the noise had come from your cabin. You lifted your head and attempted to sit up, though the far looser restrains on your feet made it difficult. It left you half up in the air with a surely confused and scared expression.

You dug your nails into your palm as you grit your teeth. The rope seemed to be connected; you pushed your left arm forward to test the theory, only for the right to be pulled back. Was it around your bed frame? You never focused on its design, the island had too many other factors to admire, but you could recall the two edge posts.

Which only made you sigh. Those posts just had to be connected to the top of the bed, where the curtains were. You wouldn’t be able to lift the rope from it.

Another moan, only it was a bit louder. You heard rustling as the next noise grew muffled. Someone was definitely there. Watching you. What were they waiting for? Did they enjoy watching their prey struggle? At least your death would be somewhat unique…

You titled your face down to your shoulder, the same cologne smell was around the material of your clothing. Your mind ticked, was it your clothes? The last you can recall you were in shorts and a bra, not the overly large top you could feel bunched at your waist. You pushed your thighs together to feel for more material, but your crotch was entirely bare.

Did the sick pervert change you? Was that why they were moaning?

Your name. You heard it though it was barely whispered through the air. A whimper followed the call and you angrily tugged on the restraints keeping you tied to your bed. More rustling occurred, and the slightly wet noise startled you in your place. “Who the fuck are you?”

There was no answer, you weren’t expecting one to occur anyways. Instead, the person simply moaned again, but made no attempt at keeping it silent. Deep and throaty. That was the only way to describe it. The raw noise had sweat build on your neck as you attempted to look around the room to stare the stranger down through your blindfold.

Sloppy noises echoed in your silence. If you had been able to see, you were sure that the person in your cabin was touching themself. Despicable. Their moans grew louder as the movements sounded as through they matched the rhythm. Fast. Desperate. You continued to struggle on your bed to try and break free: hopefully the rope was breaking as it rubbed against the frame.

You had to get free. It was one thing to die when you had been warned of it weeks beforehand — but you would rather not get someone to orgasm over it. You could hear them get more excited the more you struggled, your name followed with giggles and whimpers only made your skin tingle.

The smell of cologne was so familiar. You knew you had smelt it before. Just as you had heard the voice before. You kicked against the comforter and rubbed your thighs together — Nagito had always caused your self respect to disappear.

His attention had always made your heart flip. Even as his eyes danced with madness and he chuckled over planning his own death: you always fell victim to the song he would sing. Your morals had always been strong, steadfast, but just the idea of Nagito enjoying something you would soon follow.

If it was Nagito watching you now, if he was the one who tied you to your bed and was touching himself to your attempts at escape… you were already feeling the temptation lick at your skin. Did he like seeing you like this? You attempted to adjust yourself so that your legs pointed toward where he would be, spreading them so he would be able to see your bare cunt.

He wouldn’t kill you. He never intended to kill anyone! Nagito was more a danger to himself and everyone’s sanity. You knew that yours had fallen victim long ago. “Did you put me in your shirt?” He was a tall man, one who wore clothing that was about ten sizes too large, and he had once joked that you would be able to fit into his hoodie. Your eyes rolled back at the idea of his shirt on your skin, how your body would drown in the material.

You leaned your head back onto the pillow and arched your back — it must mean that it was his pillow that you laid on. Does that mean he knew where yours went? It had gone missing during dinner. Did he steal it? You whimpered softly into the room, your eyes rolling back, did he touch himself with it?

Did Nagito ride the pillow while imaging it was you? You hoped so. His moans had stopped but you could hear the slow movements of his hand. Had you surprised him? Was he proud? You dangled your fingers around the rope on your wrists, pulling it as you rubbed your thighs together.

You needed friction. Wet slick stuck to your inner thighs as your mind lost itself in the fantasies. You could hear footsteps on the canon floor, each step light despite the purpose they held. Was he leaving? You didn’t care if Nagito had you tied up, but you couldn’t have him leaving you! Your lips wobbled, but the fear disappeared as the blindfold was pulled from your face.

It took a moment to adjust to the soft lighting around you. Candles. Lots of candles all lit around your room as the night sky glowed through your window. The curtains on the canopy were tied back, you could briefly see the petals of roses along the floor.

But, most importantly of all, you saw Nagito. His eyes were just as dizzy as they always were, but he had them wide as he stared down at you. His lips were pursed, did he want to kiss you? Could he? You needed to feel the touch of him against you. His overly large hoodie slipped from his shoulders and you whimpered at the defined collarbone it showed.

He wasn’t wearing anything else. You stole a glance at the shirt you wore, the same one he had been wearing just earlier that night. Your hips rolled into the air as you moaned for him, wrists pulling on the rope. “Beautiful,” he finally spoke and you felt as though you had began glowing under his praise.

A bony finger slid down your cheek and you leaned into the touch with soft eyes. It was all him. Everything you needed in life was him. You felt his erection in your thigh as he leaned over you, warm precum pooling down your skin. Was it salty? You needed to taste.

“Nagito,” you whispered it to him without breaking eye contact. He seemed surprised at first, before the handsome smile you adored blessed his sunken face. His long hair seemed more wild than earlier, you went to play with it only for the rope to pull your hands back down, “need you.”

Was he happy you weren’t upset? Please say he was. You needed him to be proud of you. His fingers danced to your lips and you sucked without a moments notice. Salty goodness bloomed on your tongue and you happily moaned around his fingers.

“The trust you have in someone as worthless as me,” he laughed to himself with that wicked grin you adored. How could it scare people? The passion behind it had always seduced you more than anything else, “I do not deserve to touch someone so beautiful.”

You pushed your chest up to him as his other hand cupped your cunt. Already, you made a squelch just from the soft tap. “Yours,” you mumbled it around his fingers but Nagito understood you regardless, you knew it as his eyes softened. The rope burn around your wrists was nothing but sweet pain you craved more of.

It would make the perfect reminder of your first night with the man you worshiped.

© floraxxfauna 2024 ⌜18+ banner from @/cafekitsune thank you <3⌟

#nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #super danganronpa 2 #nagito danganronpa #danganronpa nagito #komaeda nagito smut #nagito smut #komaeda smut #nagito komaeda smut #danganronpa smut #danganronpa fanfic #danganronpa 2 fanfic #danganronpa 2 smut #super danganronpa smut #super danganronpa 2 smut #⌜writing⌟

[randombtsprincessa]

Be My Teacher

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (She/Her) (2nd person written in third perspective)

Words: 2.2k

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: You ask your best friend turned boyfriend to show you how he likes his blowjobs.

Warning: I am swerving dangerously in the Jungkook lane. Discussion on BJs, explicit smut scene, detailed description of oral (male receiving).

A/N: Happy Birthday to bunny boy Jeon Jungkook! Banner is by yours truly! Let me know how you like it, thanks!

Music Companion -  Myth Syzer - Bonbon a la menthe (Stwo Remix)

“So…you…hmm want, what?”

If you thought that you would get off scot free rolling your eyes at this moment, you would have. Granted, maybe it would’ve displayed a good bit of power play, considering you were on your knees but right now, it wasn’t about that.

At least, you were trying hard not to make it so – but it was so difficult when you were so used to doing so with him.

Jungkook was sat slouching in the easy chair in the living room of his ‘bachelor pad’. His legs parted, accommodating you to sit daintily upon your folded legs, already getting numb from the static position. The hem of his sweatshirt rose up just so, resting along his abdomen and giving you a tantalizing glimpse at his toned stomach.

For Jungkook, he would’ve opened his legs and allowed anything to be done to his body, because it was you. He had worked hard for you, and he knew you did the same for him. So when you’d moved in front of him, clad only in a soft cashmere shirt that was two sizes too big on you, it was obvious for him to turn off the game he was watching to give you all his attention

Especially, since you’d given him a smile that made hair rise up on the back of his neck and throat to go dry.

But when you’d sunk down, looking every bit the temptress that you were, innocent and big eyed and said that, well…he had to admit, he was confused and maybe mildly concerned.

“I want you to show me,” You repeated, slower for his benefit, “How you like head.”

Jungkook was already sitting up, elbows leaning against his knees. “Baby, it’s…you don’t have to, I mean, I don’t,” He was stammering, stumbling on his words as if he wasn’t an active young adult but then, he also knew that as your boyfriend, as your best fucking friend; he couldn’t allow you to think your blowing skills were subpar.

Considering that you and he had just recently gotten together after a brief stint of mutual pining and a clichéd confession. Nothing sexual, save a few minor kisses had happened.

“Kook,” He stopped at your sigh of his nickname. “Stop fretting so much; I just,” Your hands reached out, placing very deliberately on his knees, just shy of his elbows. “Want to make you feel good; just show me how you like it.”

The words were whispered, sending a small shiver down Jungkook’s spine. The earlier concerns about your sexual security in the relationship were long gone, replaced by the realization of your actual intentions.

You were teasing and gratifying him at the same time.

Fuck, how did he resist throwing you on to a bed and having his way with you for so long?

Very slowly, keeping his eyes on you as if you were going to pounce and chomp down on him, he returned to his slouching slump, hands bunching the hem of his shirt.

“I’d like anything you do to me.” He said finally.

“That’s nice, babe. I’d like to do what you want me to do.”

Fuck, Jungkook’s blood was racing, pounding through his ear drums. There was nowhere he could go, no where he could avert his eyes and by god…nothing more he wanted to do than fist your hair in his hands as you took his cock in your mouth.

“Okay,” He gritted his teeth, rubbing along the jean clad length of his thighs. “Okay.” He agreed.

Something glittered behind your eyes, something that he had been privy to for years now but was now on the receiving end of. It ignited a slow fire under his skin, flushing him with uncomfortable heat that signaled arousal.

He knew his cock was calling to her now, could almost hear its song, and he was absolutely sure you could.

He had this, he told himself.

You watched him headily, waiting his first instruction when you saw the same fire dancing behind his gaze that had made you approach him. You’d caught sight of him from his bedroom doorway, one hand fiddling with the remote and his leg bouncing.

Not the most alluring sight, you’d admit; but it was Jungkook. Would you be human if you didn’t find him absolutely delectable in any position?

And so, like a moth to his light, you drew closer, shucking off your trousers behind the couch.

“Unzip me, take it out.” He said and you blinked, accepting the first instruction and straightening.

Quick, eager fingers moved to the button of his jeans, deftly pulling the two sides of his pants together to undo the button, hooking your index around the zip to slide it down. Something nudged under your wrist and you couldn’t help but shoot me an impish grin.

Jungkook chuckled, his serious expression breaking like a storm cloud as he relaxed. His hips squirmed, rising up so you could pull the jeans and black briefs he wore down to the top of his thighs. The band constricted his legs, making him huff and tug them down lower till they were being kicked off completely, landing haphazardly somewhere behind you.

He watched your eyes run the length up his now naked legs, the muscles of his thighs flexing under the scrutiny when they paused at the one body part of his that required…no, needed, the attention right now. He wouldn’t be ashamed to confess, this whole thing was pretty damn exciting and it had reflected on his shaft, poking up and saluting you, infused with all his brain cells and then some.

“So,” His voice came out dry, gulping down saliva before trying again. “Um, touch it.”

Your pupils were blowing out, as you with no hesitation wrapped a hand around his base. Your grip was much looser than he was used to and he grunted in dissatisfaction. He looked at you, the twitch of your lips catching his attention.

“Tighter,” he ordered, a soft gasp escaping him when you immediately obeyed.

Minx, he laughed internally, you wanted him to be commanding? He’d give you what you wanted.

“Good girl,” He gave you a wide, all teeth showing grin when your eyes flashed up to him and fuck, he knew he’d hit the nail right on the head. “Now give it a tug.”

Your hand softened around the length, slowly rising up to the head before back down, repeating the action twice, thrice, four times. Jungkook let his head drop back, sighing in the relief of touch, of your touch. “Mm,” he glanced down at the dick, his head glistening with oozing precum and nodded at you. “Use it, make it wet before you use your mouth.”

The feeling of your thumb, rubbing along the softer, more sensitive head, dipping into the opening and collecting the near clear slick had him opening his mouth in a silent groan, feeling the pressure cause the liquid to drip down the shaft along with your hands, coating it in smoothness.

He looked down at you, your eyes fixed on his face, examining and relishing in each minute expression. His own eyes had completely blackened; the dark antelope eyes of his now blazing with restrained lust.

“Y/N,” His voice was hoarse, and he made no effort to appear cool and collected anymore. “Fuck, suck it. Please, take me in your mouth.”

Your gazes suspended for a full second, words no longer necessary. You kept your eyes on his, leaning in as slowly as you could, extending the period of anticipation for him when finally he could feel your hot breath waft across his glans. His eyes fluttered, unable to hold your eyes any further when you opened your mouth and deliberately placed the thick head on the very tip of your tongue.

It was experimental, being your first time sucking your new boyfriend and best friend’s dick. There was almost no taste of the skin itself, save for the near salty-sour combination of his precum. It flooded over your taste buds as you took him in deeper, pacing the inches, the width, finally letting it rest just at the back of your mouth, teasing your throat canal.

Over you, Jungkook had gone stiff. His eyes were closed, scrunched tightly, his big nose twitched, his bottom lip was gripped by his teeth so tightly you worried he’d bite it off.

You pulled his cock out, a ‘pop’ signaling him to grunt at the sudden loss of heat around him. He opened his eyes, looking at you.

“Relax, Kook,” You smiled, rubbing his head around the seal of your lips. “It’s just a blowjob.”

He so did not have this. Jungkook’s brain had short circuited, watching you with zero replies, zero retorts which was completely unlike him.

His eyes remained glazed when he saw you take him in again, deeper this time, your lips moving over the couple inches more that vanished inside the cavern of your hot mouth. He could feel your tongue laving over the vein on the underside of his cock, pressing onto the sensitive skin hard enough to send the jolt up to his diaphragm.

His hand moved, stroking over your head, feeling the smooth strands of your hair filter through his fingertips. The smell of your shampoo was in his nostrils, so familiar, so you and he wrapped a carefully collected bunch around his palm, examining the taut rein that he now held.

He had half a mind to yank, gently of course to not hurt or distract you from where you were still suckling on him but instead he chose to push you further down on him. He still had an eye on your face, taking in your sudden widening of the eyes and the parting of the mouth with satisfaction. He had one on you, he would’ve grinned – had your next move not scored you one more than him.

You dropped down on him with more force now, the tip of his cock brushing past the seam of your throat and straight past, breaching in. The muscles of your esophagus closed on him, further tightening in and Jungkook buckled under your hold, finally erupting in a restraint less moan that reverberated through the walls of the room and back to you. His hold tightened and slackened periodically, unable to make his mind to whether to guide you or just allow himself to be flooded away.

That one moan had you groaning as well, the feel of his copious slick coating your throat now having you close your own eyes and enjoying in just his sounds.

The taste of him, the musk of his skin surrounded you, invaded you and it felt so dirty but so enthralling, you wished for it to last forever. However, judging from the way Jungkook was squirming now, his hips canting and rolling to further get himself into you, mild thrusts accompanied by his grunting and groaning; you knew he was close.

His length throbbed, pulsated, engorging into your mouth itself, stretching your poor lips almost painfully but you’d be damned if you pulled him out now. Your hands catered to the rest of his length, slipping down to press down along his balls, tight and heavy from the building release you wanted deep in your throat.

“Babe – Baby – not going to last, god please,” His voice broke on the last syllable and you gave one final push to yourself, straining as you sunk down on him completely, your face almost burying into his lap.

And you gave one last, hard suck…

Jungkook came in a mess of trashing and choked expletives. His body arced off of the chair, nails digging into the arm rest and his feet bounced off the floor. His head bowed to his chests as he cursed heavily, none of them too coherent and you watched as his sweaty mop of hair flopped into his eyes. Thick streams of his release launched down your mouth, slipping down without even an effort to swallow while the rest painted across your lips and chin, dribbling over his clothes and skin as his violent climax nearly pushed you off of him.

You settled to rubbing your soiled hands over his length, set on milking out every drop of cum he had to offer, marveling when the rest of the clear, whitish liquid oodles out. He moaned at that, loud, swollen lips parting before he slumped back, boneless.

His fried brain didn’t stop him from grabbing onto you however, hold light around your wrist as he hauled you right off the floor and into his chest.

“Fuck; that was the best orgasm I’ve had in all my life and we didn’t even have sex yet.” He whispered; voice croaky from all the near screaming he did.

You laughed, your earlier bravado melting into shyness, your hands tugging at the sticky shirt that had become uncomfortable on your skin. You also needed to wash your hands.

“Kookie, let me up, I need a shower…and brush my teeth.” You tilted your own head against his, feeling him nuzzle against your chest for a moment, considering the request.

“Alright,” He huffed, releasing you so you could skip down the hall and shut yourself into his bathroom, leaving him behind to collect what wits he could find – an evil grin slipping onto his face at the prospect of returning the favor – before, his eyes drooped into a sated slumber.

#smutcentralnet #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #bts #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fluff #be my teacher

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Brother Dearest Pt 34

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 – Pt 5 - Pt 6 -  Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 -  Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 22 - Pt 23 - Pt 24 - Pt 25  - Pt 26 - Pt 27 - Pt 28 - Pt 29 - Pt 30 - Pt 31 - Pt 32 - Pt 33 -

“James, could you hand me the pliers?” The cold handles should have tapped your hand by now or at least the scent of your fiancé who was just beside you admiring the efforts you were putting into getting their precious record player back up and running to dip into the collection of records. “James?” You asked looking up finding yourself now on your feet back in the barracks of that hospital where you had been forced into pretending to be Eddie’s brother. Onto your feet you stood and turned around seeing the other nurses readying the empty beds and stations for any possible injured soldiers.

The cocking of a pair of guns however turned your head to the words, “Lookie here, a little jack rabbit.” Swallowing dryly you stepped back and in the firing of the guns held by both sneering Bucky in his uniform and Steve in his Captain costume your hands rose from your sides drawing a pair of beds to morph together as a shield with blankets freed. Mattresses were lost to the cold tile floor now coated in the rubble of an explosion. Panting hard your body shivered under the cover of wildly flapping blankets and a heavier weight above the sheets engulfing your head and shoulders the scent of smoke and the distinct aftermath of grenades mingled with still burning flames. Around you walls exploding from the blasts collapsed to the sound of marching and engines soaring above and driving nearer to the smoldering base hospital.

Over that however louder and louder you could hear the sounds of the nurse who had kept such a close watch on you shouting over the engines to the sound of soldiers trying to drag her away, “You have to keep looking! She’s in there! Bunny! Bunny! You have to find her!” The building however collapsed all around you and was reduced to piles of broken glass, split burnt stones and warped metal with none else able to be heard other than those shouts for your rescue.

Finally able to unclench your eyes and above the floor in the kitchen on your floor you found yourself falling underneath your sheets and comforter. Just a foot to the floor at your hands extending flat beneath you in a hover you stopped with the blankets engulfing your panting self trembling in a drop of your knees to hold you. Again you had the dream, ending with those same shouts, though Bucky and Steve were new, yet not unexpected as this was around the time of year you’d crossed paths with your brother at that show. Smoothing your hands over your face the shaking was all the more noticeable to you remembering just why they had given you that medal.

Fifteen nurses in all and yourself, the youngest of the bunch with a single one who had claimed you looked so similar to her baby sister she’d left at home. Her and one other had been found alive once the Germans were through with their sport, both mangled and brutalized like the others both screaming for the soldiers hoping to take them to be healed to stop and find you. They knew what you must be facing if they didn’t, if they couldn’t, and their minds kept imagining more. There was a record you were shown of the details of that inspection of the ruined hospital, what those women suffered, their pleas to have the soldiers keep searching haunting those men as well who had shared accounts with the army Doctors.

A child lost to war imagined dead or enslaved by enemy forces to what terrible end. Two out of fifteen alive left to fear and dread what became of the lost little girl laid in wait until the men were asleep then ended their own suffering with borrowed pistols. Adding themselves to two more pine boxes flown home with daughters unwelcoming for open caskets, a flight delayed when remaining limbs and features taken as inhumane trophies from enemy forces gunned down were discovered and added to the caskets joining the numbers of fallen soldiers.

Among the tasks and photos taken in the separation from the brothers after the return to Canada was one where you had met the parents of the two found nurses who alerted the forces of your imagined fate. Parents who celebrated the news of your discovery among the soldiers with your brother, wounded and promoted to an officer’s rank, a rank the military upheld due to the alternative. Pure glee you weren’t captured, that one of their nurses had survived, a new patch of a historic degree was an easy gift compared to another pine box for a young orphan with no one to receive it. That was your weight, those nurses all honored in their falls as protecting the youngest, telling you to run, a half truth you had upheld remembering that report of their screams. They saved you, that was your gift of kindness for those parents unable to welcome their little girls home safe again. In your purse you kept their pictures gifted to you to never forget the women lost adding to the weight of your good name.

Turned from the bathroom on a midnight trip James in the light from the door eyed the stripped empty bed making him look around the room with heart giving a heavy thud, “Jaqi,” he whispered, “Darling?” unable to crack his voice louder mentally he reached out still feeling you at home asking, “Where’d you go?”

Whimpering back you replied, “In the kitchen,”

“Ki-,” exhaling sharply at your weak tone he hastened to meet you there wondering if you’d gone for tea and if so how you’d managed it with all the sheets so fast. Quiet as he could manage to not startle Venom he went on his toes across the cold floor to the kitchen where once past the sitting room he eyed you rising to your feet in the bundle of sheets and comforter. Hands outstretched to help you up and look you over asking, “What’s wrong?”

Shaking your head you said, “I don’t know how I got here.”

“What do you mean?” He asked brushing your curls from your face with hands lowering to circle your coated back drawing you closer to his bare chest. You shook your head, “Had a dream, the one at the hospital,”

“You were making beds when it collapsed again?”

“I,” your head shook and you wet your lips, “I asked you for pliers, I was sitting on a chair that vanished, I thought I was fixing the record player. But guns cocked, and I stood and turned, Bucky and Steve had the guns at me,” his brows fought not to clench feeling your nerves still on edge. “And I pulled beds in front of me, then I heard the nurses shouting to soldiers pulling them away to find me, and I woke up.” Out from the covers your hand pointed upwards lifting his gaze to the shimmering cloud of silver and blue fading, “Falling, from there.”

“That,” his brows furrowed in his shift around you with eyes still aimed upwards, “So,” he huffed shifting to be in front of you again with a comforting place of hands on your shoulders, “You can, teleport.”

“I don’t even know how I did it.” You squeaked out.

“Well, just like your mirroring my claws, that came out in your sleep.”

“Great, so I can teleport myself into the street middle of the night.”

“That won’t happen”

“If you ever wake up cold and alone you’ll know where to find me.”

He scoffed, “Your dream, you moved the beds and what did you think of? Best you can remember?”

“Spoons, I, I wanted spoons.”

Turning his head he smirked nodding his head at the open silverware drawers, “Spoons,” up again his hand moved cupping your cheek shifting your eyes to his, “I love you, come back to bed?” With a nod you leaned into the warm kiss he hoped might calm your trembling. “I’ll help you make the bed up again and I’ll hold you. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think I could forget their faces even without the pictures. I really thought someone might have helped them too.”

James hugged you as you reached the bed having brushed his arms under the covers to pull you into his chest, “We all did. I’m so sorry we weren’t there for that meeting.”

“I knew it would be bad, if I would have been split from Eddie, but, not pieces and trophies. Even animals don’t do that.”

“No they don’t,” he hummed tightening his grip on you.

“Don’t know why I saw the guys there.”

James smirked saying, “Maybe you saw their picture in the library earlier, We all know how much we’d like to see them filled with spoons like screaming porcupines.” Making you giggle and in his pull back move to remake the bed to bring you right back to his arms underneath those same covers pressing a kiss to your forehead in the start of a story of your favorite constellations he used to help lull you back to sleep on bad nights you woke to nightmares.

.

“Oof,” into James’ back you bumped in a turn inside your closet making him chuckle in his former try to fashion the bow around your back on the ribbon belt to cover the seam on the waist of the flowing mint dress reaching your knees with ribbon ended sleeves reaching just above the elbow. “Sorry,”

“No apologies,” a couple more slips of the ribbon and he grinned at his work adoring his times in the morning helping you to get ready, kneeling with the bow completed and hands raised to guide your turn to help you into the black heels to match the ribbon he secured. Peppering sweet kisses on each knee tailed by a warm lingering kiss on your lips enabling him to tangle you in his arms again, “Timeless as always, Darling,” his eyes traveled to your loose curls, “Down today?”

“Might just pin a side back,”

“I’ll help you,” That had you giggling and going with him to the bathroom mirror where he claimed your comb to ease the tight curls of yours a bit looser while you found a couple pins.

“This how men were back in your youth?”

Lowly he chuckled humming by your ear in a move to steal a kiss on your cheek, “Back in the days of those corsets and gowns you asked me if I missed, when the servants were scarce it was the husband’s job to assist dressing his wife. Numerous buttons and laces to adjust.” Again he kissed your cheek, “And no, should it cost me time with you no, I wouldn’t wish to return back to that time. I very much enjoy our morning routine. Do you?”

His eyes met yours and smiles spread to your sheepish nod earning another sweet kiss on your cheek, “Very much. What do you think would happen to this time if we would have one in a crib and one on the way?”

Again he chuckled humming, “Babies love schedules. Teddy is a lovely baby, no doubt ours will be just as mellow. I’ll make certain we have our mornings no matter how many munchkins we have.”

“Hmm, what about ten? Even then?”

Chuckling again he turned your chin to plant his lips on yours, “More munchkins the better, then Vic will no doubt be involved. No nannies needed for our little family. Our little morning routines may grow more crowded but I will always spare some time with just you, my Darling.”

“Sometimes I wish I could stop time, stay with you in a little bubble.”

“No you don’t. I know the feeling, but you don’t. And you never want to go back, because you can’t change things, you can’t freeze a moment, because the longer you stay there the more it will hurt.”

“You’re getting that look again,”

Shaking his head he tapped his nose on either side of yours, “We spent decades hiding in our memories. It doesn’t help, only hurts. The most painful thing is when you never said goodbye, never closed that book, almost like you’re trapped even when you try to let go until someone shakes you loose somehow. Change is terrifying, but we’ll be here, and we’ll face it together.” Sweetly he kissed you on the lips melting into the kiss you rose up a bit more to deepen it, then he hummed, “Us and our own little army, joined with however many squishy can supply,” making you giggle softly.

“Am I pushing too hard, with Kitty?”

Shaking his head he cupped your cheek staring sentimentally into your eyes, “He about shoved me off a cliff to be brave enough to hold your hand, and you were the one to demand we date and steal a kiss on top of that. What you might feel as a push is a gentle poke. I think he could have fun with a movie star. Breathe some life in his sails again, he’s already swooning, does favor blondes. Had you hurt his feelings I’d have let you know. So you go on ahead and keep befriending young miss Norma Jeane because her pulse picks up around him. We’ll need some of your magic to pull this mission off.”

You giggled saying, “Young Miss? I can’t be a year older than her.”

Again he kissed your lips, “All the more reason for you to be best friends. Young dears out in this rough city breaking rules and claiming names for yourselves. Need as many allies as you can get.”

Downstairs the doorbell rang and you stole another kiss then turned still in his arms to add your lipstick you blotted to be worn down more to the sound of Eddie’s hurrying to welcome the early guest inside. “She’s early,”

James chuckled claiming your hand for the walk down, “Maybe she’s hungry.” Grinning wider to the sound of footsteps following the racing paws of the dogs going down, “Subtle,” he muttered to you making you giggle again and spot Victor slowing once he reached your floor smoothing his hands over the buttons on his shirt. “Norma must have smelled Eddie’s cooking.”

Victor rumbled back, “I’ll get on the coffee.” You both nodded then grinned to his back following him to the stairs only for him to rumble, “I can feel you smirking.”

“I am merely adoring Olive’s excited waddle,” at the base of that flight of steps he turned for the next and you smiled at him in his brow ticking up at you, “You can’t say it isn’t adorable.”

“You’re plotting something,” he rumbled in the two steps you took closer.

“I’m always plotting something, whoever said I could be the voice of reason in our group of daredevils obviously doesn’t pay attention to my actions. I’m the hot headed one.”

Victor chortled, “You are not hot headed in the least. Mastermind if anything. And you, Pipsqueak, are just getting warmed up.”

“Keep encouraging me and there’s no telling what I may get up to.”

James hummed leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Whole point Darling. Let’s start a revolution.” You rolled your eyes to Victor’s chuckling turn to continue going down the stairs.

“Oh this is just so splendid,” you could hear Norma Jeane saying on her way to the kitchen, “Oh how precious!” Clearly meant for Teddy who Eddie named for her.

Dawn said in the hanging up of a coat, “You look lovely,”

“Thank you, I am terribly sorry for being so early, only they said it might rain later, and I didn’t buy an umbrella,”

You all came into sight turning her around with a grin and eyes darting between you and Victor who nodded his head to her, “Morning Miss Norma, coffee?”

“Ooh, I do enjoy a nice cup of coffee.” She said shifting watching his path to the stove for the water to boil before turning to the ground coffee and the pump contraption he favored using from his travels for a finer cup of coffee you still couldn’t stand the taste of. A much finer job of concocting the brew for the men here as you and Dawn used the boiling water left for your morning tea to go with your juice.

James said, “Well we’ve plenty umbrellas if you need one, tend to hoard them, never can walk away from an umbrella sale.”

Lastly her eyes shifted to the last to speak, her silent friend, grinning as you finally spoke to ask, “Hungry?” Her lips parted as if to protest and you said, “I should warn you, no woman goes hungry here, figures be damned,” making her grin creep wider, “Besides, no telling how long Miss Margaret will keep us on our feet today.”

On her feet she turned accepting your arm looping through hers to guide her to the table where she grinned at being helped into the conversation around her, Eddie grinned pouring the pancakes from the batter he had mixed, “Apparently Dave got these awful tickets to this fight today and I somehow got pulled along.”

James, “How awful we talking?” Setting the table for everyone including Norma not used to seeing guys handle the readying as Dawn continued to feed Teddy.

Eddie, “Apparently the guy is scraping the bottom of the barrel for fights, well under his weight class for his height and now he’s gone and paid for a chance for the third best fighter who has a habit of breaking faces. Fool’s gone and trashed his career before he’s even had one.”

Victor said, “He not eating by choice or for funds?”

Eddie, “Funds, sounds like. Owes some up tops and is trying to scratch up some dough by bumping the match.”

Dawn, “You can’t be serious, he’s paid to fight a high ranked fighter beat him out of a match?”

Victor shook his head, “Got to be a hefty payday for that beating, been there.”

James chortled, “Oh ya, like the time you got paid to track down that mule and came back with a split face.”

Victor turned pumping his tube of coffee saying, “Hey, I would have caught that mule hours earlier if that goose wouldn’t have spooked him. Not any worse than your saying you could find that bear.”

James replied, “I found the bear.”

Victor chortled, “Ya, then we found you butt naked down to your boots the next morning walking back to town,” spreading giggles around the table as James clicked his tongue at his brother trading embarrassing tales of his own in revenge.

James nodded, “Like I said, found the bear.” Looking to Eddie he said, “What’d third chair guy do to be taking bribes to fight?”

Eddie smirked saying, “Took a low punch to the kidneys his last try at a title match and pissed himself.” Drawing chortles from the brothers, “Trying to beef up his reputation.”

Victor nodded replying sarcastically, “Oh ya, fighting an underfed thoroughbred, bound to get him that belt after his bladder purge.”

James, “Don’t know why he feels the need to stoop, hit anyone in the kidneys hard enough they’ll empty their bladder.”

Looking to Norma Jeane you asked, “Have you seen boxing matches before?”

She shook her head, “No, I hear they can be brutal.”

“Only heard about them, and we had two boxers in our troops they liked to share on their favorite fights. One kept bragging about him nearly losing a rib from one.”

Victor chortled, “Oh yes, Tommy was fun, then he got his foot jammed in that storm under a log and was just helpless. So much for those broad shoulders of his.”

Norma Jeane asked, “Do you go to fights often?”

James shook his head, “Not since we were kids. Boxing was a quick hustle to earn some cash.”

Norma Jeane looked the brothers over, “You didn’t want to keep boxing?”

Victor chuckled saying, “You can only take getting hit in the face so many times before a desk job is more appealing. Jimmy’s an Engineer and I’m an Architect.”

James, “Ya, got used to breaking our knuckles in other ways. And when we got punched it was more of a surprise.”

Norma smiled saying, “Wow, you both must have done well back in Canada, out here in New York I can’t imagine anywhere else you could build something.”

Eddie chuckled finishing off the last of the batter, “Oh you’d be surprised how easily people could find room to build. But from what we’ve seen of Canada it’s not so sandwiched. Should see it just miles of green in the spring time, bound to be all golden and red by now.”

“Oh I bet it’s beautiful,” she sighed out, “I grew up mainly in California, not much for seasons near Los Angeles. Even here so far it’s wonderful, when does it start snowing?” She asked excitedly.

Looking to Eddie you said, “November? Late November early December.”

Eddie nodded, “Sounds about right. You planning on being here then?”

In a shrug as he carried the tray of pancakes over she answered, “I don’t rightly know. The company didn’t give me a time to be back, just said to attend some classes. I’m certain if they had something for me to be back for they would call. They know where I am staying, after all they are footing the bill.”

Dawn said, “No doubt if you are still in town Bunny and Eddie could show off the best spots to visit.” Widening her grin.

Food was served out and the conversation continued on all she had plans to do while staying here between her classes a few days a week. Clearing the table was when the bell rang and the guys all led you three to the door with Victor holding Teddy saying, “Have fun ladies. Find something nice.”

James opened the door for you revealing the driver there nodding his head watching as you were helped into your jacket and handed your purse. Eddie helped Dawn pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek after she grabbed her purse from him then he turned with Norma’s coat in hand. She thanked him for help easing it on as James stole a quick kiss from you and joined the guys in watching your group following the driver to the flag bearing car a group of kids had come to crowd around to peek inside. The car was empty and excitedly the kids waved you all off on your way up to Manhattan. Much preferring the subway over this spectacle with pretty much everyone you passed imagining someone from the First Family was inside, a fact proved wrong as Margaret Truman came out of the family apartment and joined you inside with a smile as you all shifted letting her sit between you and Dawn.

“Morning,” she said breaking the silence.

“Sleep well?” you asked and her head tilted slightly.

“Not really, bit of a loud night last night.” She replied.

“Well, Yankees are doing well so far I hear from Eddie. Or at least he heard from the sports desk at the Bugle.”

That had her eyes on you, “We did read those articles about Congressman Farley, he didn’t, we heard he was threatening a woman from Brooklyn, about his son?”

“He tried to, didn’t stay long in our home. I made my point clear to his son who obviously ran to Daddy for some backup.”

She looked you over asking, “The Brooklyn Bugle said his son assaulted a woman at Columbia, and then he went to your house.”

“Brent touched my breast in class and was shown the error of his ways. Following that his father came to our home calling me a whore and tried to threaten us. I didn’t give him much time to explain what threat he was issuing, if he would have me expelled or just to ruin my reputation, I kicked him out and he sped off when he pissed off the block for the slur he kept shouting. I consider the problem dealt with, no need for concern.”

Margaret, “Father was very concerned reading all the differing versions of what had happened. Then he heard Brooklyn, and he knew we had to check on you.”

Smiling at her you replied, “That is very kind. I do happen to be very resilient, not the first time someone has tried to intimidate me.”

Margaret, “No, I can’t imagine it would be.”

“For now, we should focus on the night ahead, on a scale of Coney Island to the Dentist how fun are we talking?”

Her grin inched out again as she giggled out, “Closer to the Dentist. However there is some footage father wanted you to see. Apparently there was a group of directors sent to film different battles and you were in a few. Other than that we will have a lovely meal through talks from various experts. A good few are just dying to get to hear your expert opinion on magnets.”

“Oh I highly doubt that,” you giggled out adding, “More like they want a good argument. Prove me wrong.”

Dawn, “If I can ask why would magnets be a big deal?”

Margaret shrugged, “Oh you never know, inventions and such. That Stark fellow especially might be interested with his flying car.”

Your eyes narrowed a tick as Norma said, “Someone is making a flying car? Oh that sounds complicated.”

“I don’t think magnets would work for that.”

Margaret said, “You never know.”

Norma asked, “How wouldn’t it work?”

“Well, a magnet gets weaker in effect the farther it is from something metallic, so arguably you would still need to be close to the ground or buildings if you manage to get it to climb up buildings too. Even then it could harm the people inside.”

Dawn, “If it fails you mean?”

“Or if it doesn’t, people are essentially magnets themselves, there’s iron in your blood, you put a powerful enough magnet up next to someone it could tear their blood out, stop their hearts, kill their brains which need constant blood flow. Not to mention the effect on their bones from the marrow inside where the blood is created. Arguably you could make a propeller powered platform that the car could hover over but you would be dipping more into aeronautics over magnet power. There would still have to be an engine that wouldn’t be affected by the magnet and fuel with a low enough metal content to not sludge up and clog the pipes.”

Norma Jeane smiled saying, “Wow, and you learned all that in your college classes?”

Looking at her you shook your head, “No, public library. And Eddie used to bring me along to the junkyard before the war, taught me a fair bit on engines.”

Norma Jeane, “How would you build a flying car then?”

To the floor your eyes shifted in thought and you said, “I don’t think we have what I would need. I would probably have to invent what I need first before I could make one. Probably have to have a way to manipulate propellers, but it would need something like a balloon for lift so the air forced out couldn’t hurt other people when it goes to land or take off.”

Dawn cut in saying, “And you would need to think on fuels as well.”

Norma Jeane asked, “Would steam work?”

“Could, though it couldn’t go too high, air gets colder the higher you get and it could freeze even with propellers. Part of how airplanes keep up, oil has a low freezing temperature and the engines pound so hard that it keeps the oil moving. If that was to freeze the engine would stall and fall out of the sky when the propellers stop spinning.”

Dawn, “But if you had a decent insulator for the steam it could work.”

Margaret eyed the street as the car stopped and smiled saying, “We’re here.” The door opened by help of the driver and out you came one at a time with the three behind the First Daughter eyeing the designer shop you had never dreamed of going to before. Two attendants came to open the double doors of the shop surrounded by cameras capturing the latest shopping trip for Margaret.

Inside you went and more attendants flocked to greet your group, all grinning as the doors were locked behind you by the doormen there to ensure the press was kept out. Margaret said, “I am thinking pink,” wandering off with finger aimed to a distant rack taking two attendants with her. The rest split between your group taking a rack at a time. Possible options were shifted to the arms of the attendants.

Each tag making your heart skip a little knowing how each dress you touched could have paid your rent for a year at least with ample for food and utilities. All the same the reminder from the guys had you grabbing a few options while Dawn did the same, choosing colors that might be flattering against yours. Lowly to her and Norma however you muttered, “I am sorry it seems we may be in for a boring night.”

Margaret finally made her way back to your group with a couple racks of choices come to see yours. “Nice choices, ready for the fun part?” She asked guiding you back to the changing rooms where each of you and all together looked over the choices of the others giving comments.

From a few flowing options to tighter ones you seemed to have shared that preference. Though from the mix you ended up choosing the one you thought James might enjoy helping you with the most. Forest green, a bit low in the back below the shoulder blades, sleeveless with a sweetheart top synched at the waist above the extra double layered flap of fabric over your backside and hips adding emphasis to your figure. Almost like an added sleeveless jacket over the skirt, that was simple flaring out at the knee.

Dawn however chose to go with her off the shoulder hugging purple dress to accentuate her figure while she still had it, streamlined to the flare at her knees with a belt around her waist. Off her dress Norma chose a maroon dress with spaghetti traps hugging her perfectly with a slightly tighter skirt than both of yours that she hurried to change out of to inspect the coats on display. While she chose a silk lined white fur coat she squeaked in easing around the hanger of the dress she’d chosen. Dawn’s eyes and hand fell on a white mink shawl she just couldn’t pass on close to a small blanket in size. You however couldn’t pass a grey fox fur shawl shorter than Dawn’s reaching just your waist.

Altogether the price was staggering but with the high profile event a knee weakening half off had you all walking out with a great deal. Norma wrote a check ensuring she’d been given a hefty payday to come and study while keeping up her appearance and wardrobe. For yours and Dawn’s you counted out your bills saved in higher amounts from tips along with some funds withdrawn in case of emergencies when you had hushedly reminded her she’d brought the wrong purse forgetting her checkbook at home. Though for the price anyways she would have needed to have a notice from her bank that Eddie had approved an amount like that for her spending. A plus you imagined for having not married yet, as one day you’d need a signed notice from James to carry in your checkbook he’d soon have full legal control of.

Final total counted out and passed over you smiled to the woman at the register saying, “From my tips and comic book funds.”

The woman gave you a curious smirk, “You read comic books?”

“I own and help design two comic series.”

Margaret sighed out taking hold of her bags, “I wish I had more time to read comics. Father has me focused on fundraisers and charities since the war ended.” Smiling again however she said, “Time for accessories.”

Shoes however surely followed in the next designer shop with purses galore as well to choose from. More attendants came over with ample choices on parade around you all to go with the champagne flutes you were given. Behind Dawn’s back you downed yours after a short while and traded flutes with her making her smirk at your wink allowing her a bit of time to keep the news in family. Half you drained to not have her seen as bubbly crazy with another smiling sip to finish off more of the near gag inducing drink. Shoes however requiring both hands allowed you both to pass over the flutes to inspect a pair closer. Exhaling sharply through a momentary fight not to shiver you caught sight of Norma sneaking another sip of hers she set down to hurry to your side asking about her own choice. “I think these would be lovely.”

“Yes they would.” You said moving to claim your own pair of shoes you surely didn’t need, yet with how hard the attendants were pushing and Margaret’s outright demand that you all had to have special shoes for the occasion. Dark silver pumps matching your fur covering nearly half of the top of your feet snugly in case of steps fitted thanks to the heel of it. Similar in shape to Dawn’s with a strap above the toe of the shoe covering most of the top of her feet in her favorite style in a purple shade to match her dress.

Norma chose red sandal heels and hurried with her hand claiming yours to bring you over to the purses before Margaret could snatch up the best of them. Right off Norma chose a white beaded one with a silver clasp as you eyed a fold over clutch in shimmering velvet the same shade as Dawn’s gown she smiled in accepting once she reached your side, admiring the golden clasp accent on the top flap. Under your arm hers looped and she guided you through to a few choices, on you couldn’t even open until you found a silk forest green clutch with three strips diagonally overlapping across the front, secured with a silver clasp and a golden stringed tassel on the side. “I think this will look good with your dress.”

You nodded peeking inside only to grumble at the price tag making Dawn giggle and say, “You know what James would say.”

“Oh yes I do, and Victor and Eddie, not to mention the Brocks.” She grinned and with bags handed over to attendants you joined Margaret in her inspection of bags, five of which she claimed for her own. Near to a sigh you murmured, “Please slap me if I ever grown that spend happy.”

Smiling at you she whispered back, “The moon would explode first,” luring your grin back out.

The young woman from good standing and good family clearly having no problem with using her position and name to get as much as she wanted burned against everything you stood for. From such harsh beginnings you had vowed never to forget that unending hunger, never to forget what cruelty can come with entitlement of any kind. Above all you had sworn to yourself to be kind, with so much anger and pain tucked away inside of your past you had hoped between bouts of sheer rage at those who were cruel or malicious snapping your final tether of restraint that you could be kind.

Hoarding good or wealth was never your intention, but having some cash on hand was always a benefit especially when you felt the urge to send funds to your cousin or aunt. They had work and ample funds thanks to the Brocks up there, still they were your family and the last of your actual blood. Family was what you were clinging to, perhaps if you could help them succeed and find comfort through their lives this pain from Steve might dwindle, the loss of your parents would never leave but maybe that one word he called you might muffle over time from your memory.

“Bunny,” Dawn muttered and blinking away the mistiness of your prickling eyes you noticed the trembling of the sterling silver lined mirror at your side you stilled with a smile forcing back down that path of mental wandering again.

“Rabbit hole, sorry.” Her hand smoothed along the arm looped in hers.

Softly she asked, “You don’t think Venom would hiss at my coat do you?” That had you giggle behind your lifted hand and she said, “He used to hiss at the mounted heads at my parents’.”

“It was the eyes. Skeptical of marbles, something with his old home. Dangerous to get trapped in.”

“Oh, I suppose I can’t use them for vases then.”

“You can, just glue them down so I can’t break them on accident.” Making her giggle and watch as you smiled and answered one of Margaret’ questions on a pair of bags she was stuck on to go with her new shoes.

With a grin she turned and asked, “Have you decided a major yet?”

“No, though I heard you graduated in the spring with a Bachelor Degree in Arts, well done.”

She smiled, “Yes, thank you. Nearly did not swing it, physical education is a fickle thing. But I passed a swim test and got my credit. Have you signed up for physical education yet?”

“Bowling, next semester, it’s a lawn course and they don’t want to freeze anyone.”

Her lips parted in a widening grin, “My father loves to bowl, keeps talking about building an alley at the White House.” She looked to Norma, who came over with a second bag she was considering, “Have you bowled before?”

Norma, “Bowled, oh, with the pins, no. My foster father talked about taking me when I was young. Always got put off, then the war started. You like to bowl?”

Margaret nodded, “Though I am not as practiced as my father. You, Dawn?”

Dawn chuckled, “Oh, we’re the ones who introduced Bunny and Eddie to it. Our town in Canada has a theater and a bowling alley, big pulls in town, used to make it a bi-weekly thing, have a whole tournament for it. Bunny almost won once.”

You giggled and shook your head, “You are generous, for all my skills in Advanced Mathematics the scoring goes over my head. I needed a split and I lost with a two pin blow against a five pin slammer. I thought my five strikes would have put me ahead but apparently not.” Making the ladies chuckle as you looked at the second purse in Norma’s hand, “Ooh, that’s pretty.”

“I know, pink fake fur, now I just need to find a dress to go with it sometime. My weaknesses, pink and fur.”

“I think mine would be mint, don’t know why, and yellow, I do love a good pop of yellow.”

Dawn asked Margaret, “What are your plans now you’ve graduated?”

She smiled saying, “Singing,”

“Ooh, brave,” you said and she looked at you making you shake your head, “Not against you, I’m terrible with speeches, I can’t imagine singing to strangers. I can manage a lullaby to Teddy or Eddie’s Nephews and Nieces but that’s my line.”

To herself she giggled replying, “I have heard that sentiment often. Though I doubt there will be any expectations beyond me being the best of the best.” She looked you over, “No doubt you were given that weight as well.”

“I doubt anyone expected much from me beyond becoming a housewife. War is over, back home we go.”

Margaret, “One day that will change, perhaps for our daughters.”

“Oh we’ll make it change, whether they like it or not.”

She looked you over asking, “No clue at all for a degree?”

“I was thinking science, maybe math. Just see how far I can get against the current. Apparently Columbia has women requiring a vote to attend graduate courses there.”

“They will vote for you. No doubt about it.”

“Well they’ll have to, I’m going for a Masters, though I will settle for a Doctorate, they will be seeing a great deal of me in the years to come.” Two more bags were rounded up before you all made your ways to the registers where your funds were dwindled even more with the half off bags and shoes. Though to go with the purchases unlike with the gowns the smiling woman behind the counter eased four bottles of Chanel No 5 in their protective boxes into small goody bags joined with a bracelet each, white gold with diamond and grey stones in sideways V’s all around alternating colors to the clasp. With lips parted you watched the boxes they were in closed and added to the goody bag to go with a box of chocolate covered cherry candies.

A call to the security team had Margaret off before her initially offered lunch in her own car while you were all helped into your own car where Norma smiled in dabbing her new fragrance behind her ears making you turn away blinking a few moments for the powerful scent. Certainly distinct, especially the hint of rose and jasmine in there almost had your eyes water. But as you couldn’t bear to wear much past the scent of green apple and honey from your soaps the fate of your bottle was sealed as a gift to Gina and Ambrose, soon to be joined by Dawn’s as the woodier ingredients had her stomach churning. Excitedly home again bags were lifted and with the help of the driver and brothers on the stoop from a walk brought up to be explored as the first of the rain drops began to trickle down.

James’ smile lingered looking you over as if to guess what you had bought, “Have fun?”

“Well, the three of us bought a third of what Miss Margaret bought.”

Victor chuckled and said, “Well she has been on tour recently.”

Lowly to James you whispered, “35 grand, I counted, she dropped without a blink.”

Victor stole a glance your way then focused on the bag that Norma was showing off to him widening his grin at the playful choices before she delved into the shoes available. Dawn crept over saying, “We even got these goody bags, I can’t keep the perfume though. Bit musty,” James looked over the bottle impressed at the elite French brand.

“Eddie’s sisters would love them, was going to send them mine. Anything past soap is-,”

Norma’s squeak had you all looking and grinning at Victor’s near soppy grin at her folding herself in her white mink coat, “Isn’t it just to die for?!”

With a nod he said, “Very chic, certainly will have some heads turning to that alone.” She nipped at her lower lip as he delved more into what he knew on furs.

Though lowly by your ear James hummed, “You bought furs,” using a finger to tug your bag closer making you roll your eyes at his lifting the folding boxes from inside it. The one you tapped he smiled opening and pulling out the grey fox fur shawl. “Now this is wonderful.”

“They had a lot of browns and whites, I liked the grey, and it’s so soft.”

He nodded and smiled at Dawn, “Do we get to peek at yours?”

She nodded and got to showing off her fur and bag and shoes ending with a stolen hug from James in her excitement, surrogate until Eddie got home before her trot off to get Teddy from his pen in the living room fussing from his nap noticing he was alone. Again James chuckled and got to inspecting your shoes and purse, rewarding you with a nice warm kiss and tap of his nose and forehead to yours a moment, “Perfect choices. Do I get to see the dress too?”

“When I hang it up. Thought you might like it, few hints to your old days. Will need help with it.”

“I will love it, you chose it.” Carefully he tucked your things back into their boxes and bags to take up to your room later as you went to go and check on the meal slowly cooking in the kitchen luring him in after you granting beaming Victor and giggling Norma time alone for their chatter to grow.

Pt 35

All –

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea ​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm (Hobbit x oc)

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess​, @changlingkhat​

#James Howlett x Reader OC #Victor Creed #Eddie Brock x OC #Venom #Nightmares #Grim Past #Dress Shopping #Margaret Truman #Making Friends #Class Differences #Norma Jeane

[goddamnmuses-a]

Random OOC post on older Peter.

A while ago I saw someone randomly question “Why do people use Jake Johnson as an older Peter?” as a passive agressive jab at me (Don’t worry, they’re unfollowed and blocked, don’t need that toxicity.) but without the snide jabs at me, it’s a valid question. Yeah he plays Peter B Parker in into the Spiderverse but Peter A Parker is Chris Pine so why not use him? Or someone that looks like an older Tom Holland because let’s face it.. Tom Holland does not look like he’s going to grow up into Jake Johnson. 

For me it’s all about the kind of energy and vibe of my Peter and how I like to play him, I could go with the tech genius billionair but that doesn’t feel right to me for my Peter. I like the lived in Peter. Sure he’s smart but he’s still living in a crappy Apartment in New York, he’s not got a lot of money, most of his time and money goes on being Spider-Man and he looks scruffy and comfortable because he’s grown up and grown comfortable, he was an awkward kid, he’s still awkward but he’s not trying to impress anyone anymore, he’s not worried about taking down villains, it’s just every day to him so he dresses comfortably and wears looser baggier clothes and maybe has more of a dad bod than being super chiseled because he’s not working out, he doesn’t need to, he knows his villains wellenough to out think them most of the time and he’s experienced enough that when a newbie shows up they’re usually not much of an issue. 

He feels like a more real and relatable person than if I used someone more like.. chiselled and handsome (not that Jake’s not.. he’s a hunk :P) but I can buy that this guy has maybe fought a bunch of villains and lost his Uncle and his Aunt, maybe gone through a Divorce and yet he’s still getting up, putting on his sweatpants and heading out to be the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. 

Now. Do I think everyone who rps Peter should use Jake as an older fc? If it fits your Peter, sure, if not.. NO. If Into the Spiderverse taught anything it’s that anyone can be Spider-Man. I think it’s important that everyones Peter should feel a little different than each others, it’d make a Spiderverse thread more interesting. 

Another reason I like Jake as my Peter is partially that, I’d love to do threads of him interracting with other Spider-People, I don’t really have any atm, i’d love some.. hook a brother up.. but I’d love like a clean shaven and chiselled Peter that’s everything a fantasy of Spider-Man could be, meeting my Peter and my Peter being secretly jealous.. Or like a kid of another Peter being like “You are nothing like my dad.” and my Peter being like “..Glad to know I was right to use condoms.”  Gimmie that shit. 

The best way to think of my Older Peter really.. is that he’s not the MCU Peter grown up.. he’s my own Peter grown up. He’s a mix of Into The Spiderverse, The PS4 Games and The MCU. He’s awkward, hopeless, so smart but also so dumb and he’s mine.  And now I want more things with him so if you read this far, and wanna thing with him.. pls say. 

#ooc #v: older #m:peter

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

holiday party

summary: you may not be the average size of the typical girl a professional athlete might want, but you’re exactly Brett’s type.

warnings: plus-size reader, mentions of self-image problems, swearing

word count: 2.7k

requests are open!

Right now, you were seriously regretting the outfit you were currently wearing, but the mirror you were critiquing you appeared in. In the store, you seemed to have all the confidence in the world. The fabric of the dress was just a tad bit too tight around your waist, showing off the stomach you desperately tried to hide on a daily basis. 

Growing up, you had always been on the heavier side of the scale. No one ever said anything to you directly about it, but sometimes, you could still hear the girls at your old high school making comments about you as you walked past, ones clearly not meant for you to hear. You were short, with thicker arms and thighs and definitely a softer stomach that protruded outwards. Usually, you wore jeans and sweaters that covered anything you didn't want anyone to see, but the dress you were currently poking and pulling at was completely different.

When you had bought it at the store, your friend had been with you. She, of course, cheered you on and spurred you to buy the dress, claiming you could use it for a night just like this one. 

You were supposed to be accompanying your best friend Brett to a holiday party, one that was a little fancier since, as his teammate Ryan so eloquently put it, ‘we’re fucking adults, we’re going to drink wine and listen to holiday music and mingle’ when he invited you after one of their games. 

A knock on your bedroom door brought you back to reality just enough to call out a soft ‘come in’ but you were still absentminded enough to continue to pull at the fabric, trying to make it less—you weren't even sure what you were trying to accomplish, but you just wanted to look different. That was always your problem, wanting to change your appearance. 

“What’re you doing?” The familiar voice belonging to Brett sounded from your doorway, and you spun so quickly, like a kid who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, that you almost stumbled over your own two feet. He was leaning against your doorframe, and amused smile on his attractive face. You gave yourself a second to take in his appearance, mostly because you weren't sure how to respond to his innocent question. 

He was wearing a pair of dress pants and shoes, with a nice, white, button up. The top couple of buttons were undone, and his hair was styled the way he usually had it when he was dressing up. The outfit was so simple yet so attractive, it was easy to see how you fell for him as quickly as you did. Not to mention, he was incredibly kindhearted and hilarious when the time was right. 

But then you remembered where you were headed—a holiday party for adults, and adults bring their significant others to these type of events. You were headed out to go mingle with a bunch of hockey players and their probably drop dead gorgeous wives and girlfriends, while you arrived with Brett as a friend looking the way you did. 

Friends. That’s all you ever would be to him. While you were pining away, stuck in your small apartment, he was free to travel across the country and be with whoever he chose. And it didn't matter that in the two years you had known Brett that he had never brought a girlfriend around to meet you, you were just waiting for the inevitable day when he looked at someone else the way you looked at him. 

Brett called your name out, softly, when you took too long to respond. Your brows were furrowed from your time spent in deep thought and your whole body was tense. You knew that, from the sheer amount of time you spent together—as just friends—he was able to tell something was up with you. So, instead of giving him a chance to question you about it, you turned away from him and back to the mirror. 

“I think I might change to a different dress.” You stated, unable to meet his gaze through he mirror no matter how much you wanted to. It was hard enough to think so poorly of yourself when you were alone, and now that you had an audience the thoughts that kept stumbling into your head felt stifling. But you if had glanced up, even if only for a fraction of a second, you would’ve seen the look of utter confusion on Brett’s face. 

“That one looks really good on you, though.” He tried to reason and all you could manage was a bitter laugh. How could he not see just what you were looking at in the mirror? That nothing about how the dress fell across your stomach looked really good? He was sugar coating it, surely, taking his job as best friend seriously. He was supposed to tell you that you looked good.

“It’s just... I don't know.” You struggled to find the words, hoping he would pick up on your insecurity and leave so you could change into something looser. Apparently, he wasn't as skilled at reading you as you had thought, because he was stepping further into the room and to your closet, grabbing the heels he knew you’d want to wear. They were your comfiest pair, and whenever you accompanied Brett to something that required fancy shoes, you’d always pick that pair. 

“We’re running late, anyways, so come on.” Brett told you as he got down on his knees before you, fumbling with the clasp to your heels. You blushed when you realized he was putting on your shoes for you. Now, you were stuck with the stupid dress and you couldn’t help but feel like you were on fire when his fingers brushed against your ankles while he worked. 

“You didn't have to do that.” You mumbled, embarrassed, once Brett was standing again. To avoid his gaze, you walked out of your room, leaving him trailing behind you in search of your coat. He saw it first, snatching it off the back of your kitchen chair while grabbing his own. 

“Yeah, but it was faster.” He replied as you followed him out the door, making sure to lock it behind you. You tried not to think about how domestic it felt to have him help you get ready, and you definitely avoided wondering about how much it felt like you were heading to this holiday party as his date, not just a friend.

On the ride over, you tried to keep the conversation flowing easily with Brett. but was hard, since your mind kept trailing back to worrying about how you looked and your fingers kept tugging at the dress, as if that would make it looser. Brett seemed to notice your actions, and he finally confronted you about it when you were in the elevator up to Ryan Strome’s apartment where the party was being held. 

“Why do you keep doing that?” He questioned, and your head snapped to him, brows furrowed as you hadn’t been really paying attention to anything around you. “Pulling at your dress, I mean.” After he elaborated, you could feel your face heat up and the elevator was suddenly taking too long to each its destination. 

“I don’t know.” You replied shortly, unable to meet his gaze. Deep down, you knew he hadn't meant to make you uncomfortable, that the question came from genuine curiosity instead of malice, but it affected you as if it had. You knew Brett wasn’t blind, and he clearly must have seen just what set you apart from other women, so you assumed that he would be able to pick up on the fact that you felt unattractive in the dress. Was he just toying with you?

The door dinged open, and the faint sound of Christmas music could be heard from Ryan’s apartment, which you hurried to. Brett was easily able to catch up to you by the time you were knocking, and you made it a point ignore his curious look, questioning just what he had done wrong to invoke your annoyance. 

“Then why’d you buy it?” He continued to ask, which only managed to frustrate you further. Right now, you needed to put some space between yourself and Brett to clear your head. You knew you were being irrational, and it wasn’t fair to Brett, but you couldn't help the negative thoughts that were plaguing your mind.

“I don't know, okay?” You snapped at the same time Ryan opened the door. Poor Strome, who had been in the process of being a good host, got caught in the crossfire of your attitude. He looked like a deer caught in headlights and he looked between you and Brett. He had never seen the two of you arguing, no one had, because you both were pretty good about telling each other what was up before a fight could ensue, but you had been bottling these feelings up for so long and Brett just didn't notice. 

Before either teammate could say anything, you were brushing past Ryan and entering the party. When the crowd inside saw you, they cheered and you plastered on your fakest smile you could muster. Chris offered you a glass of wine, and you very readily took it. A glance to the door out of the corner of your eye told you Ryan was pestering Brett for answers on what had you in such a sour mood, and neither were doing a very good job at hiding the fact that they were talking about you. Ryan pointed his thumb over his shoulder, loosely gesturing to you and Brett was staring directly at you, watching your every movement. 

That only worked your confidence, having his eyes on you, searching for something wrong. 

It was going to be a long night.

Half an hour had passed since your arrival and you hadn't spoken directly to Brett yet. Not for lack of trying on his part, though. He’d make comments on stories you were telling the group, and you’d only nod, not meeting his eyes and taking a sip of your drink to help swallow the lump that’d form in your throat.

“Spill. What’s gotten into you?” Gracia, Brady’s girlfriend, questioned you as she, Marc’s wife Lindsay, and Ryan’s wife Sydney cornered you in the kitchen while the rest of the party continued in the living room. 

“Nothing?” You lied. As much as you loved the girls, no part of you wanted to confess to the group of knockouts that you felt insignificant compared to them. Especially since they were nothing but kind to you ever, Lindsay even acting as your second mom when you missed home too much. 

“Bullshit!” Sydney called, a grin on her face and wine clasped in her hand. She was tipsy, you all were, and the slight level of drunkenness seemed to remove everyone’s filters. “You’re ignoring Brett, so what’d he do?” Her question felt so loaded, because in reality, he hadn't done anything. You and your irrational overthinking had you ignoring him for no good reason. 

“Brett looks like a lost puppy without you out there. It’s sad, really. Marc thinks you rejected him.” Lindsay spoke, and you weren’t sure she even knew what she chose to end on, because your eyes were bugging out of your head.

“Reject him?” You stammered, gripping your cup tighter. “No, what—”

“Exactly! I told him you wouldn’t reject him because you’re like, in love with him.”

“Lindsay, what?” Your face was on fire and all three women were grinning at you, like they hadn't just announced to whoever could overhear them the one fact of life you tried so hard to hide. 

“So what’d Brett do, huh?” Gracia teased, excited to hear some drama. She knew that whatever likely transpired between the two of you was something you would be able to get over, together, because you and Brett knew each other so well. 

“He didn’t do anything—”

“You’ve been like, really distant tonight, though.” Sydney cut you off. “Ryan said you snapped at Brett when he answered the door.” Your face flushed at this, and you weren't sure how much more you could handle. The girls continued to pester you, trying to uncover what happened before you got to the holiday party.

“It’s this fucking dress!” You caved, practically shouting as you felt the lump start to form in your throat. The girls stopped their questions, but the gates were already open. “I feel so fucking ugly in it, especially compared to you guys. Like, I know it’s important to love oneself, but it’s hard, you know?” Lindsay called your name softly, but you ignored her, too caught up in your ranting with your gaze trained on the floor to notice her looking at something—someone—behind you. “And Brett didn’t do anything tonight. He was incredibly sweet and caring and you're right, I do love him, but he’ll never see me as anything more than the best friend. I guess I just got annoyed at him for not realizing—”

This time, you cut yourself off when you felt a hand on your arm. The hand, quickly spun you around and you found yourself face to face with Brett. Your sight was blurry from the tears that had built up during your rant, but you could still see the look of pure seriousness on his face. You barely register the girls excusing themselves, leaving you and Brett alone in the kitchen. 

You wanted to follow them, to run away and hide. Brett had just heard you say everything you had spent so much time and energy keeping from him, from you image issues to literally confessing your love for him. He should be running away, never wanting to see your face again. 

But instead, he just stood in front of you, studying your face as if it was the first and last time he’d ever see it and he needed to memorize every detail. You wanted to step back, put some distance between you and him but the look in his eyes made it impossible for you to move. 

“Do you really think that about yourself?” Brett’s voice was quiet, as if he didn't want to break the stillness of the room. You hadn't anticipated that being his first question. You had figured that he was trying to find a way to let you down gently. 

“Um, yeah?” It felt uncomfortable to say that to him because judging by the look in his eyes, you could’ve sworn he was in love with you. The way you could see the heartbreak in eyes made you want to take back your words.

“You shouldn’t.” Brett simply said and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes. To deflect his comments of assurance. A tugging sensation in the pit of your stomach told you to listen to him, to hear him out. As if he could hear the debate going on in your head, he grabbed your hands. “And you have to listen to me, because I love you, too.”

You felt your heart stop in your chest. You wondered for a moment if this was a dream, but Brett squeezing your hands in his brought you back to reality. Your eyes must have widened comically, because Brett was chuckling. Before you knew it, he was leaning forward to brush his lips on your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, relishing in the feeling. Of course, Brett had kissed your forehead before, but the action felt so much more heavenly since he had just confessed his love for you. 

“When we go home tonight, we can talk about what I heard, yeah?” Brett started and you nodded, still in a state of shock to really understand what he was saying. The adoring look in his eyes and the fact that you just knew him so well leading you to trust whatever he had in mind. “Right now, I just want to show my gorgeous girlfriend off to everyone out there.”

Now you were positively beaming. You were on cloud nine, he just called you his girlfriend. This was not the way you had planned on this night ending, but that was perfectly fine with you. All you could manage out was a simple, one word response, having finally found your voice. But it was enough to have Brett dropping another kiss to your hairline. 

“Okay.”

#Brett Howden #Brett Howden x reader #Brett Howden imagine #Brett Howden imagines #New York rangers imagines #hockey imagine #new york rangers #New York rangers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

[twopoppies]

Hello, I hope you are well? I need a mental break ASAP, can you please recommend Larry established relationship, kidfic type stories pleeease. With smut, and lots of familial bliss and love and maybe chaptered, I love long-ish stories?? I will really appreciate it, I read ALL the kid/established relationship related things on the Larryficsandrec blog. Again, Thank you

Ok ok...sorry I took a while. Here’s my caveat, I really don’t like kid fic in general. Perhaps because I’m a parent and I have yet to read one that actually feels like it was written by someone who gets what that’s like. And fics that are all fluff generally aren’t my jam - most of my established relationship fic tend to be smut heavy. However, here are a bunch of fics I really like. I hope they fit what you’re looking for. 

Established Relationship / Kid Fic

❤️ Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou 16.5K Explicit

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

❤️Barefoot in Blue Jeans by @indiaalphawhiskey 24K Explicit

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

❤️O’ Christmas Tree by @justalittlelouislove 15K Mature (no smut, but I love this one)

At a stoplight, he finds himself doing some retrospective thinking of his own. Instead of going over one of his fifty or so mental to-do lists, his mind drifts to Harry’s dimples, the way his whole face changed when he smiled, how some of the pine trees almost matched the green of his eyes perfectly. It’s- well it’s annoying is what it is. He can’t spend all his time thinking about some tree farmer with broad shoulders, he’s got bigger fish to fry. Girl Scout meetings, homework charts, client lists, lots and lots of very large fish sitting around waiting to be fried.

or:Louis has a busy schedule to keep and a daughter to raise. He definitely isn't looking for a relationship. Enter Harry Styles, a local Christmas tree farmer that seems just a little too good to be true.

❤️Back To You by Only_Angel_28 6K Explicit

"Hello?" His voice came out all high and breathy like an anxious school girl, and he cringed internally at how wrecked he sounded already.

"Lou?"

Harry's voice was the same as ever, deeper than the sea and somehow both gravelly and smooth as silk. Harry was full of infuriating little contradictions like that. It drove Louis crazy. He had spent a good portion of his life questioning if Harry Styles was actually even human; on paper he just didn't make sense. He was an enigma, an anomaly, the exception to every rule.

*After dropping his new single, "Back To You" Louis gets a text from Harry inquiring about the true inspiration for the song.

❤️You’ll Know What Makes The World Turn by objectlesson

Sometimes, when things are messy and they have more than a few weeks apart, they need the reminder. It’s comforting to have stars to map your course by.

or, Harry's blue bandana is a day collar.

❤️Just for you by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry 3K Explicit

This is probably the only canon thing I'll ever write. I don't know why this happened. Sorry?

❤️That Mouth of Yours by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites 3K Explicit

“Did I–” Louis panted around the sexiest moan Harry thought he had ever heard (at least since the last time Louis moaned–which was about 5 minutes ago). “Did I ever tell you about that guy that I let rim me at one of Liam’s parties in college?”

Something dark and furious unfurled inside Harry, making him pull away from the sweet oblivion that was Louis’ arse. “Wh–” He wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand. “What?”

Louis shot a smirk over his shoulder. His hair was a mess and his face was flushed and his eyes were glazed over but he was still himself–still teasing. Still a menace beneath angelic blue eyes and a soft voice. “Just some guy. Never got his name.” He turned his head back toward the pillows, giving a slight shake of his arse in Harry’s face.

Not that that wasn’t distracting or anything.

A little drool slipped out of Harry’s mouth.

❤️So Much Left To Say by myownspark / @myownsparknow 7.5K Mature

Reason #32: Cheer Someone Up.

Harry remembers Louis stalking along the Cougar’s sideline as the final seconds of the game ticked away. He was apart from everyone, with his arms crossed and his head down, sort of fragile looking even in his pads and helmet. Harry’s fingers actually itched to hold his hand, just as they do now.He holds the phone up to take a selfie and smiles into the camera, trying to ask Louis a question with his eyes. (Are you really okay? Tell me the truth. I bet you’re sitting on your bed, playing Madden, sulking. If you want to see me, I’ll come. I know you better than anyone. You’re sad. I’d like to come.)He pushes send.

(Harry and Louis play for rival high school football teams, and when they play against each other in the Homecoming game, someone has to lose.)

❤️Let’s Get It On by @someonethatsfunny 5K Explicit

Reason # 25 - "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye is Playing on the Radio

A self-indulgent fic. In a roundabout way, this is about love, forgiveness and make-up sex. With a strong focus on the make-up sex.

❤️It’s A Rare Condition by gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews 7K Explicit

Louis and Marcel stumble upon an old episode of Family Matters and accidentally get an idea...

❤️Crave Me: The 30 Day Smut Challenge This is a collaborative fic completed by 33 authors centered on the following premise:

Harry and Louis are happily married with two kids, but their sex life has grown stale. During October, they accept the 30-Day Sex Challenge. That's 30 days of sex. No exceptions. No excuses.

Each story or "chapter" was written by a different author and centered on a unique prompt/sexual act, making this the first large-scale author collaboration within the Larry fandom.  

❤️Let Your Hair Down While You Still Can by @alivingfire 6K Explicit

“Could you, maybe, play with my hair?” Louis can’t see much, but he can feel the rush of heat in Harry’s cheeks when he blushes. “It’s what my mum used to do when I couldn’t sleep.”

“Well, if that’s what Mummy Anne did, who am I to disagree?” Louis teases lightly, then runs his hand slowly through Harry’s hair. It’s still a little sticky from the product the hair team put in before the show, still a little crunchy from dried sweat because Harry won’t have access to a shower (with a decent amount of elbow room, at least, unlike the one on the bus) until the morning, but with each stroke of Louis’ hand through lank curls Harry goes looser, looser.

❤️turn you on make you radiate by ballsdeepinjesus 15K Explicit

When he presses inside for the first time in weeks, he’s pretty sure he sees stars behind his eyes at the staggering sensation of Harry’s body squeezing every inch of him. When he bottoms out, he stays buried inside for a minute just to catch his bearings, listening as Harry takes sharp breaths beneath him. When he finally feels like he’s under control, he presses his lips against Harry’s ear and whispers, “Are you ready husband?"

Harry throws his head back and groans. “Call me your spouse.”

[...or, a self-indulgent snapshot of hl’s sex lives over the course of 10+ years]

#my fic rec #larry fic rec #established relationship #kid fic #fluff #fics with smut #smutty fics #Anonymous

[moonandstarsandcolors-blog]

Pining!Bucky

Bucky notices things, things about Tony. He doesn’t know when he started to pay attention to Tony or he doesn’t know when Stark became Tony but he comes to sudden realization that he knows things about Tony. Things that are so small probably no one catches, not even Tony.

Tony is a genius, yes this is a well-known fact but they don’t realize how much wit Tony has. How quick thinker he is and that’s why how the things he created can’t catch his pace. Even when he looks like he doesn’t pay attention Tony always creates things or makes things better in his mind, Bucky feels exhausted just watching Tony.

Tony loves to help people. Most people thinks that he just throws money at problems until they go away but Tony loves helping. He always creates time when he can help someone, anyone. He listens everyone even the babbling babies and acts like he is having a conversation, Bucky can’t stop his smile.

Tony works hard; he doesn’t left his workshop until he finishes his project which is not healthy most of the times. But Tony never left a project unfinished, it’s like he is trying to atone something when he asks about it to Steve, his bestfriend looks sad and angry, says something about someone named Obadiah and changes the topic.

Tony loves people. But Tony only trusts his friends with all of his heart Bucky can’t help feeling jealous. Because Tony loves so beautifully but trust so little other people, those small bunch of people are the luckiest ones in the whole world. Tony trusts Rhodey and Pepper and his bots. Tony trusts Avengers, but he doesn’t trust Bucky.

Tony is an affectionate person, he loves to touch people. But he only touches people he trusts. Colonel Rhodes is the luckiest one. Whenever he comes to Tower Tony never leaves his side. He always keeps “his Rhodey” (that’s what Tony called Colonel when he introduced him to Bucky) close, he is always hugging Colonel or touching his arm. And Bucky is not jealous. (Shut up Steve) Colonel is very lucky man, because Tony’s touching must be the most amazing feeling in the world. Not that Bucky knows anything about it. Because Tony never touches him. Not even a small pat on his arm like he always does when Clint say something quirky (which is not fair because Clint always say something quirky). Pepper is the next, Tony always gives small kisses Pepper’s cheek or calls her beautiful names (they are not dating, Bucky asked Natasha about it discreetly) (Natasha just laughs when she hears discreetly).  

Tony touches Avengers too. Steve gets lots of Tony hugs, Tony sometimes fell asleep while leaning Natasha (which she is very proud about it), Clint gets pats on the arms and Tony sometimes takes him flying, Bruce gets small cheek kisses whenever he makes food, Thor is luckiest because he gets everything, they go flying together, Tony hugs him, gives him small cheek kisses and Tony never sits others side when Thor is there for movie nights. Even Sam gets shoulder pats. Sam!

Bucky is jealous but there is nothing he can do about it. It’s not like he can go to Tony and ask him to touch Bucky too. He would laugh at me, or he would kick Bucky out of Tower and Bucky had to go and live in the Shield then he would never see Tony again. So he doesn’t say anything but Natasha catches there is something wrong with Bucky. She gives Bucky a pretty good advice about his problem. Bucky is going to show Tony it’s okay to touch Bucky.

Bucky starts his plan on the workshop. After Tony finishes checking up Bucky’s arm, Bucky holds Tony’s arm says thank you. He catches Tony’s surprised face then it turns into this beautiful smile and he say “Not a problem Bucky Bear.” Bucky can feel joy filling him. He is so busy with thinking about the first nickname Tony gave him he doesn’t realize he walks right towards Tony’s glass door. One second he was walking and later he is looking workshops ceiling and there is awful pain in his nose. Then Tony fills his view. Tony looks he is terrified and helps him to get up.

“Are you okay Barnes? Jarvis tried to warn you but you walked right toward to wall. Do you want me to call someone?”

“No!” He can see Steve’s or worse Natasha’s laughing face when they realize what happened. “I mean thank you Tony but I am fine, I am super soldier remember? A little collision with your reinforced glass wall wouldn’t kill me.” At this point Bucky is so ashamed he doesn’t know what he is talking about.

“If you say so. Be careful next time Bucky Bear I don’t like to test my walls with a super soldier head.” Tony adds with a wink.

Bucky feels the pain all day and his nose swells but he remembers Tony’s smile and thinks worth it.

Of course it becomes a pattern, whenever Tony touches Bucky; Bucky lost his super soldier elegance (Sam’s words) and becomes a clumsy mess. Tony touches Bucky’s arm after Bucky gives him coffee, Bucky falls from his chair. Tony squeezes his arm Bucky walks to another wall, Tony gives Bucky a little cheek kiss Bucky forgets how to drink water and almost drowns. On one occasion Tony doesn’t even touch him just say “Looking good Barnes” and Bucky forgets how to walk he just trips thin air. Other Avengers thinks it’s funny but Bucky hates it. He is trying to charm Tony damn it. Not make Tony think that Bucky is a looser who can’t even walk straight.

He goes his room to sulk about it silently. Of course Steve doesn’t let me be miserable all alone thinks Bucky when he hears knock on his door.

“Look Stevie, I know you are trying to-” he stops because it’s not Steve who knocks his door. Tony looks at him expectantly.

“You are not Steve.” and messy Bucky comes back. Honestly Bucky doesn’t know why he gets so dumb around Tony.

“Oh Steve told me I can find you here. But if you don’t want me to-”

“I want you.” Bucky says well mostly yells. “I mean I want you to come inside please Tony.” He takes a deep breath and tries again “I wasn’t waiting anyone so I assumed I would be Steve who knocks the door. But please come inside Tony.” Tony walks toward his bed and sits. Bucky knows that he should be listening what Tony says but only thing he can think is Tony sitting in his bed in his room. Tony in Bucky’s room. In Bucky’s bed. Well not in it but still.

“and that’s why I was scared. I guess all I am trying to say is will you go out with me James?”

“What?”

“Oh I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t listen Natasha when she told me my feelings would be reciprocal. I should go.”

“Wait your feelings. Feelings for me? For Bucky?” Aren’t I the biggest romantic of the century Bucky thinks.

“Yes James. I was talking about my feelings for you unless there is another super soldier named Bucky around. You know what forget it. Forget everything.”

“NO. No please Tony, I love you. Natasha was right.” He holds Tony’s hand and pulls him to sit on the bed. “Your feelings mutual. I just get so clumsy around you and you become the only thing I can think, I” Bucky sighs. “What I am trying to say is I like you, hell I love you a lot. And I love to go out with you. Can I kiss you now?” Tony nods with a small smile.

Bucky slowly reaches Tony but of course he miscalculates and accidently puts his hand empty space instead of his bed. But this time Tony catches him kisses slowly Bucky’s hand.

“I love you too James.” says Tony with a beautiful smile and closes the distance between them.

#winteriron #tonybucky #buckytony #tony stark #Bucky Barnes #pining #lots of pining bucky #My fic #Fic #bucky is clumsy #but tony loves him anyway #this is fluffy #jealous bucky

[jaybear1701]

Summary: Five times Waverly and Nicole meet beneath some mistletoe, and one time they don’t.

A/N: I’ve always wanted to try my hand at one of those “Five times…” fics, and here’s the result! The majority of this story is already written, so the plan is to post the next four parts each day this week, with the last part to go up New Year’s Eve. (Keep your fingers crossed.) Hope all you Earpers have a marvelous holiday season & best wishes for the New Year!

The eggnog was fantabulous, if Waverly said so herself. The perfect frothy blend of creamy and sweet.

She had whipped up several batches from scratch that morning–had gathered just-laid eggs from the chicken coop in Gus’s yard, meticulously separated the whites, beat the yolks and organic cane sugar, stirred in her favorite rum with whole milk from the Tate ranch, folded in heavy cream she had whipped herself, ground some nutmeg and sprinkled it in.

It was Christmas in a cup, and Gus always served it at the beginning of December as an off-menu special at Shorty’s for the patrons who knew to ask for it. So far, not many people had ordered it. But the night was still young, and the regulars were outnumbered by the tourists who wanted to Drink Where Wyatt Earp Drank. Rainbow-colored holiday lights framed the familiar sign, complimenting the rest of the saloon’s holiday decor. Fresh garland was strung across the bar, a beautiful dark green against mahogany. Every stool had bright red bows tied to their seat backs. A bundle of mistletoe hung from the ceiling a few steps past the front double-doors.

This was Waverly’s favorite time of the year, and she happily breathed in the sweet scent of pine mingling nicely with the sharp smell of alcohol.

Humming along to the country rendition of All I Want for Christmas Is You twanging from the jukebox, Waverly filled two glass mugs to the brim with eggnog and carefully set them in front of Chrissy and Jeremy.

“Happy holidays!” Jeremy raised his mug eagerly. “Here’s to finding happiness in the new year.”

Chrissy clinked her drink against Jeremy’s. “And to Waves finally moving on with her love life.” She smirked at Waverly, who rolled her eyes.

“I have long since moved on from Champ,” Waverly insisted, adjusting the Santa hat on her head. She was quite proud that she finally had one in a shade of red that matched her Shorty’s uniform, even if it had meant ordering three different rolls of velveteen to find the right one.

“Oh yeah?” Chrissy challenged, flipping her dirty blonde hair over one shoulder. “You haven’t been on a date for at least six months. Even Jeremy’s gotten more action that you.”

“Yup.” Jeremy nodded as he sipped his drink, moaning in pleasure.

Waverly’s mouth parted. “When?”

“The other night.” He wiped a foam mustache from his upper lip and waggled his eyebrows. “Now I’m at two and three-quarter times.”

Chrissy scrunched up her nose. “You don’t want to know.”

“I wasn’t even going to ask.” Waverly shook her head and raised her hands. “Listen, guys, I’m dating.”

“Who?” Chrissy asked, closing her eyes as she took her own sip. “Jeez, Wave, you really outdid yourself this year.”

“Thank you.” Waverly smiled and curtsied. “I really think using fresh ingredients…”

“Don’t try to change the subject, Earp,” Chrissy interrupted, holding up a hand. “Just who have you dated?”

“You know,” Waverly waved a hand through the air in vague motions, “that one guy.”

Chrissy cocked her head to the side. “What guy?”

“Perry Crofte,” Waverly went with the first name that popped into her mind and then inwardly cringed.

“Perry Crofte,” Chrissy repeated, unconvinced. “Your sister’s billionaire ex who’s like a brother to you. That Perry Crofte?”

“A date’s a date,” Waverly answered lamely.

“Platonic ones don’t count,” Jeremy piped up as he polished off his nog and slapped his glass back on the countertop with a loud smack. “What?” He asked as Waverly stared at him. “It’s what you guys would say to me.”

“Fine.” Sighing, Waverly turned and was relieved to see two new customers sidling up to the other side of the bar. She smiled and waved, her usual greeting. The man smiled in response, holding up two wrinkled fingers and nodding toward the taps. Waverly gave him a thumbs up and pulled out two pint glasses.

Waverly made sure to be extra careful with the tap’s handles as she poured the beer. Gus still hadn’t gotten them fixed and they were looser than normal. “There was that time with Rosita.”

“One random, drunken kiss in a hot tub doesn’t count either,” Chrissy said. “Besides, she ran off with that Doc guy again.”

“Don’t I know it,” Waverly muttered under her breath as she served the pints to the other customers. Wynonna had gone on a rampage after she found out about Doc and Rosita. Even though Wynonna had pretended she didn’t care what her baby daddy did, Waverly had known better and spent half a week’s worth of tips on carry out and whiskey to keep her sister from doing anything (or anyone) else she’d regret.

When Waverly returned to Chrissy and Jeremy, she braced her hands wide on the bar. “Look, guys, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine. I can have a date whenever I want.”

“That’s the problem,” Chrissy covered one of Waverly’s hands with her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You never want to.”

“That’s not true,” Waverly protested.

“It’s because you overthink things,” Jeremy added. “Even more than me, and that’s saying something.”

“No I don’t.”

“Waves, I love you, but it’s not like you’re Ms. Spontaneous or anything,” Chrissy said.

Waverly straightened up, offended. “I can be spontaneous.”

Chrissy and Jeremy each simultaneously arched one eyebrow.

“I can!” Waverly exclaimed.

Chrissy crossed her arms. “Prove it.”

“All right.” Waverly scanned the room, her green eyes darting from the newcomers at the bar, to the old regulars at the tables and the groups milling around the pool tables. Finally, her gaze settled on the bunch of green leaves and white berries suspended above the entrance.

“Okay.” Nodding, she drew herself up to her full height. All 163 centimeters of it. She could do this. “I’ll kiss the next person who walks through the door.”

“Yeah right,” Chrissy snorted. “I’ll bet $100 that you won’t.”

“You’re on.” Waverly spun on her heel and walked out from behind the bar. She would have chuckled at the way Jeremy’s jaw fell unhinged, but she was too busy forcing herself to stride toward the door. By the time she reached the mistletoe, her palms felt sweaty and a cold pit of nerves weighed down her stomach. She chanced a glance back at her friends, who had swiveled around on their stools. They watched her with a mixture of uncertainty and pride.

The swinging doors creaked behind her and Waverly froze. Oh God, she thought. What was she doing? Whoever was behind her could be some disgusting shit-ticket. Or worse. It could be Champ. She should just go back. So what if she lost some money? She clenched her fists. No, she had come this far… She closed her eyes and counted to 10, digging deep to find the willpower to just go through with it and prove her friends wrong. She opened her eyes, turned around, and…

All the air rushed out of her lungs.

Before her stood a beautiful stranger, dusting snow off her midnight blue parka. She pulled back the hood to reveal fiery red hair that curled a bit at her shoulders. The woman noticed Waverly instantly. How could she not? Waverly was standing in her way after all and staring straight at her like some creeper.

“Hello,” the woman greeted, brown eyes warm and curious as she took in Waverly’s holiday uniform. “I didn’t know Shorty’s employed Santa’s little helpers.”

“Oh.” Waverly’s hand flew up to her hat, self-consciously adjusting the faux-fur trim. “Sorry.”

The woman’s brow wrinkled. “For what?” She asked, voice gentle.

Waverly didn’t understand why it made her feel like melting. “It’s my friends.” She shook her head, so completely flustered that she was sure her even her toes were red. “They dared me to be spontaneous and so I said I’d kiss the next person who walked in,” she was rambling and she couldn’t stop, awkwardly gesturing up toward the mistletoe, “and it’s completely stupid and inappropriate and I’ll just shut up now and get out of your way.”

She wished she could run away and hide, but Gus would have her ass if she abandoned her shift. Mortified, Waverly tried to step aside, but the woman reached out and stopped her with a light hand on her elbow. “A dare, huh? For how much?”

“A hundred bucks,” Waverly nearly squeaked.

The woman’s right cheek dimpled as she half-grinned. “Split it 50/50?”

Waverly blinked at the woman, then shook her head. Had she heard right? “You’re saying…”

“Lay one on me.”

Waverly’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Really.” She gave a full-blown smile and Waverly’s heart throbbed.

“Okay,” Waverly exhaled. Was this really happening? She took a tentative step forward, slowly, so that the other woman could back out if she wanted to. But she didn’t. She waited patiently for Waverly to bring them toe-to-toe. The lovely stranger smelled good. Sweet. Like vanilla-dipped donuts and, God help Waverly, her mouth began to water.

She licked her lips. Still, the stranger didn’t move a muscle. Waverly had total control. The thought emboldened her. And with a spike of adrenaline-fueled courage, Waverly cupped the woman’s jaw, rocked up on the balls of her feet, and kissed her.

Warmth spread throughout Waverly’s entire body. The woman’s touch was soft and gentle and gone before Waverly could even process that the kiss had ended. She stepped backward, leaving Waverly slightly dizzy, pulse pounding in her ears.

“We good?” The woman breathed out. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but her pupils appeared dilated.

Waverly turned her head. Satisfaction surged within her at the disbelief and awe on Chrissy and Jeremy’s jaw-dropped expressions. “Perfect,” Waverly answered.

“I’m Nicole, by the way.” She held out a hand, which seemed somewhat silly given the greeting they had already given each other.

Suddenly shy, Waverly shook Nicole’s hand gently, but firmly. “Waverly.”

“Waverly Earp?”

“That’s right,” she answered, surprised.

Nicole chuckled. “I’ve heard a lot about you from my boss.”

“Who’s your…?”

The double-doors swung open again and in strolled Sheriff Randy Nedley, snowflakes dotting his black Stetson.

“Haught!” He bellowed when he saw them. “Good, you’ve met Waverly. If anyone can make you feel welcome in this town, it’s her.”

“I’ll say.” Nicole winked at Waverly, who felt her cheeks heat up even more than she thought was possible.

“Waverly, this here’s my newest deputy.” Nedley clapped Nicole on the shoulder. “Nicole Haught.”

“You’re a cop?” Waverly squeaked out. A cop named Haught… because of course.

Nicole raised her hands up in mock surrender. “Busted.”

“Hell, she might even be sheriff one day,” Nedley said. “Now, Gus tells me you’ve got my favorite special today.”

Waverly still wished she could just disappear on the spot, but she couldn’t do anything but lead Nedley and Nicole back to the bar where Chrissy and Jeremy continued to look shell-shocked. Chrissy shook it off and greeted her father with a peck on the cheek.

Nedley introduced everyone while Waverly made her way back behind the bar. She could feel Nicole’s eyes following her, but she patently resisted the urge to make eye contact and instead busied herself with refilling drinks. She knew Chrissy and Jeremy were dying to say something to her too, but they wouldn’t dare with the sheriff right there.

“Two specials, if you please, Waverly,” Nedley said, hat now in hand.

“What’s the special?” Nicole asked.

“Only the best damn eggnog you’ll ever have in your life!” Nedley exclaimed to the accompanying nods of Waverly’s friends.

“Oh I don’t know about that.” Waverly fought off another blush as she poured two glasses for Nicole and Nedley and handed them over. She tried not to shiver when her eyes locked with Nicole’s and their fingers brushed.

“Don’t be so modest.” Chrissy waved her off and batted her eyelashes at Nicole. “You know she makes it from scratch.”

“Impressive.” Nicole smiled, bringing the cup to her mouth. Waverly never thought she could be jealous of an inanimate object and yet here she was. Nicole took a sip. Her eyes instantly widened. “Wow.”

“Amazing, right?” Jeremy chirped.

“Definitely.” Nicole nodded, her gaze settling back on Waverly. “But, I think the sugar I got earlier was sweeter.”

Waverly’s lips tingled from sensory memory and more heat flooded her cheeks. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t spontaneously combusted yet.

Nedley, confused, just shrugged up his shoulders and chucked a thumb at one of the tables. “We’ll be taking these over there,” he said. “You have a good rest of the evening. Don’t drink too much now.” He kissed Chrissy’s cheek. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

“Bye dad,” Chrissy said. When they were out of earshot, she whirled back around, gaping. “Holy shit!”

Waverly only smirked in return, hoping it would cover up how utterly discombobulated she still felt. “I’ll take my payout in small denominations, thank you very much.”

“Get me a beer, you crazy bitch.” Chrissy pulled out her wallet and started counting out bills.

“Coming right up.” Chuckling, Waverly walked to the cask. She picked up a glass and couldn’t stop her gaze from sliding once again toward Nicole.

The gorgeous deputy smiled at her, raising her eggnog in a silent toast. Waverly smiled back, heart sprinting, not paying attention as she pulled on the tap a little too hard.

And it burst.

#wayhaught #waverly earp #nicole haught #wynonna earp #mistletoe au