Like the Winter Sun
Title: Like the Winter Sun
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: The Avengers (MCU)
Rating: MA / FRAO
Characters: Steve Rogers (Captain America), Tony Stark (Iron Man).
(Brief mentions at other Avengers and Happy Hogan.)
Summary: There are times when Tony’s mind is moving too fast, too full, and he can’t stay still. Steve knows how to ground him.
Inspired by: LP’s gift to me in Cap/Iron Man 2013 Gift Exchange; a fantastic mini-comic, “Come il sole d’inverno” (AO3 / DW / LJ).
Warnings: Explicit sexual content between two men (m/m), sex toys, bondage and light D/s undertones, language.
Disclaimer: Iron Man and Avengers, their characters and everything else belong to Marvel. The movie versions belong to Marvel Studios, Joss Whedon, Jon Favreau, Louis Leterrier, Kenneth Branagh, Joe Johnston, Paramount Pictures, Universal Pictures, Walt Disney Pictures… in short: everyone but me. This is pure fiction, created to entertain likeminded fans, no profit made.
About Like the Winter Sun: My only concern in writing this fic was that I would not do justice to the talent and inner workings of the art this story is based on. I cannot express how deep my love runs for those six pages of art, and finding the right words to bring those pages to life was a challenge where I wanted to set the bar high for myself.
The title of the fic comes more or less directly from the artwork it’s based on.
Story and status: Below you see the writing process of the story. If there is no text after the title, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.
Like the Winter Sun
LP drew me a fantastic mini-comic (AO3 / DW / LJ) for Cap/Iron Man 2013 Gift Exchange. This story is built around and within that comic.
Like the Winter Sun
The press junket was nearing its end; the most frantic questions were out of the way and the constant hum of voices had fallen in volume. Steve was glad for this, because in the aftermath of the latest grueling battle they’d had just enough time to clean up, tend to injuries and eat a few mouthfuls before they had been pushed in front of a pack of rabid reporters, and his team was starting to grow restless.
There were S.H.I.E.L.D. PR people present, of course, as well as police and fire and rescue representatives, but everyone wanted to get an answer out of one of the Avengers and the other officials were left to try to cut in whenever they feared a superhero’s response might not be appropriate.
The Avengers were used to this by now. Usually not so soon after a fight, but nevertheless, standing in the spotlight was what they had to do in order to continue what they’d set out to do and maintain the acceptance of the people. To some of them it came as easy as breathing, Tony being the perfect example; he usually took on the reporters with a practiced ease.
Months ago, Steve might have thought he was just hogging the spotlight because that’s who Tony was and he was more than used to it whenever Iron Man flew solo. These days, he understood that Tony was merely taking the attention away from cranky, sore and tired assassins – and a Hulk who had nothing left to smash.
There was a limit to Tony’s good mood, though; the smile never faltered and the flippant commentary kept going, but his eyes would eventually turn restless as if searching for an exit. He never backed off, though, as if that weren’t an option, and Steve admired him for it.
Today, Tony’s well-hidden tell was more obvious than usual, mostly because he had been forced to stay behind for most of the battle, trying to figure out a way to locate a series of bombs that had been planted in major cities all over the East Coast as an insurance policy for the villains.
Needless to say, Tony had found and disabled the bombs, joining them for what was left of the fight at that point, but he had sounded frustrated when they talked over the comm; beating up something was easier than beating up yourself if you failed to save thousands of lives.
“This concludes the news conference!” the head of PR offices from S.H.I.E.L.D. declared finally. “We thank you all for coming.”
A few lonely voices rose from the mass of reporters as the Avengers moved as one towards the door on the side.
Most people shouted “Tony!” to get one more comment out of him, but they only saw Iron Man whether he wore the suit or not.
Steve, instead, saw the man inside the armor, frail and vulnerable compared to the unyielding metal. Tony was keeping the mask up, giving the crowd a one last kiss and a dramatic salute, but as soon as they were through the door and moving towards the back of the building, his body grew tense and full of barely-contained restlessness.
The other Avengers took the Quinjet back to the Avengers Tower; Steve and Tony parted from them, walking to a waiting towncar with Stark Industries plates. Tony bumped heavily against Steve’s side as they slid inside, leaning against him rather than the seat.
“Where to?” Happy Hogan asked from the front; on days like these, it was good to have him waiting to chauffeur them back, not some stranger or a stiff S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
“The Tower,” Tony replied immediately, fingers tugging on his tie as his eyes stared out the window, following the moving scenery, but Steve suspected that if anyone asked him, he wouldn’t have any idea what he had just been looking at.
Reaching over, a bit clumsy with his gloves still on, Steve undid Tony’s tie and left it hanging there; it had looked like Tony might strangle himself with it soon, otherwise.
The wide, brown eyes flashed over to him, halting, studying the moment. Some of the tension bled from Tony’s body and he shifted a bit lower on his seat, leaning his head back.
Steve laid a hand on Tony’s thigh, wordlessly asking for him to wait. It wasn’t long before fidgety fingers drifted over, abandoning the undone tie and landing on Steve’s hand instead. Their touch was abrupt and fleeting every time, nails scratching at the dried dirt on the red material one second and then convulsively clutching the next.
He saw it on Tony’s face, as soon as they got to the Tower and out of the car on the garage level; his mind was moving too fast, too full, and he couldn’t stop moving – not even in the relatively confined space of the elevator. It had been coming for days now, and Steve had planned on easing the pressure, but then their latest mission had happened and all lesser priorities had to wait.
Once they got to their floor, Steve told Tony to go and shower. Steve was the one who needed a good scrubbing, make no mistake, but he knew that if he didn’t send Tony away for a moment, things would escalate too soon and he needed a few minutes to come down from the high of the battle in order to focus on the other man.
Unwinding Tony was his first and only priority after Steve centered himself, and once he was sufficiently dry from his own shower, he threw on a thin shirt and pants, padding up to Tony’s room. He could see no one else, or hear them; Natasha and Clint would be cleaning themselves up taking long baths before getting some much-needed rest. If Bruce was done de-Hulking, he would hide from everyone else for the next four hours at least, coming back to himself in surroundings he was in control of. Thor might not even be at the Tower anymore, or he would bathe and find something of interest on TV.
The air in Tony’s room was warm and slightly damp, smelling of lavender soap. The other man was naked, pacing his bedroom like an agitated animal, eyes wide and lips murmuring equations and complex mechanical functions. Steve’s entrance barely interrupted him, although his eyes were now glued to him instead of some unseen projection on the wall.
When Steve was within touching distance, Tony stopped, angling his body so that he was perfectly in front of him, lips looking for the words he wanted to say next. It was as if there were so much Tony could say, in his mind, but his mouth couldn’t follow. It wasn’t an issue he faced often, and soon enough the bottleneck would erupt and there would be nothing but words until Tony drowned himself in them.
“Shh,” Steve shushed him, falling into his role. It hadn’t always been this easy, and many mistakes had been made – mostly because he hadn’t been certain if even Tony knew what he wanted or needed, and where his limits stood. It was clear to anyone that Tony lived to push his boundaries, and the most Steve could do was show him some limits – while taking Tony to them. “Wait,” he said then, and stepped to the side, towards a closet which he knew didn’t open to everyone who entered this room.
Behind him, Tony twitched but stayed still, not turning to look at what he was doing.
Once, Steve had told Tony to close his eyes as he waited, but had soon found that was crueler than most things he could conjure in his mind; if Tony’s eyes were blocked, he would be locked inside his head with the multitude of thoughts that were already pushing at his sanity. It had been one mistake he would never repeat.
Opening the door and removing several items from within the closet, Steve threw most of them on the bed; he didn’t want to go looking for them later should he be otherwise occupied. Once he had everything he wanted, he shut the door again and returned to his place in front of Tony. The brown eyes snapped up to his face, then down at the items Steve held in his grasp.
“Today was exhausting,” Tony started, the bottleneck finally broken between his mind and mouth. “I mean, how many times are they going to try to pull that ‘we’re going to blow up the world’ crap on us?” That he chose to talk about their latest mission was just as likely as him complaining of Pepper’s brief interest in flower arranging – which had meant plenty of flowers around the Tower – or the fact that he suspected his drycleaner was stealing his underwear, or that the latest thesis of some world-renowned scientist were barely good enough for Iron Man’s target practice – and he knew from experience, because he had done that.
Steve didn’t reply. He placed the items in his hands under one arm, to free his hands. Tony’s right arm moved forward automatically, hovering in the air between them, and Steve took the first bondage cuff, securing it around the offered limb, snug and unyielding.
“They should stop agreeing to press conferences right after, too,” Tony went on as he offered his left arm in turn and Steve wrapped another cuff around it, just like the one before. “At least this time the Hulk didn’t eat any cameras or use a microphone to pick his teeth. Bruce says mechanical components upset his stomach.”
With the wrists finished, Steve crouched down and wrapped two more cuffs to each of Tony’s ankles, caressing his skin briefly before straightening again.
“We should go to Malibu,” Tony said, either completely changing the subject or still relating to their latest mission. “Less villains – I’m sure the statistics support that – and there won’t be snow. Do you know how hard it is to fly when it’s snowing? Of course you don’t, but I’m just saying; Malibu, sun, wind, and the sexiest parties you can find in the surrounding time zones.”
Steve looked at his face until Tony shut his mouth and met his eyes. His expression was desperate, as if he hadn’t just been talking about how nice Malibu was. A thousand little emotions screamed at Steve and the blond simply raised a hand, touching Tony’s chin, then pulled him into a brief, shallow kiss.
Tony didn’t even try to push his tongue into Steve’s mouth, accepting the kiss as it was, closing his eyes briefly before Steve pulled back and reclaimed the last item from under his arm. This time, when Tony’s lips opened, no words came out – only a small exhale of air as Steve pushed the ball gag in place and took the straps around Tony’s head to fasten them together, firm yet not too tight.
It wasn’t the most effective way of silencing him, of course, but that wasn’t the point. The gag stopped Tony from talking, serving as a reminder that silence existed as a counterpoint to the noise in his head.
“Get on your knees on the bed,” Steve ordered, softly, shortly. It was like prose that aimed for as few words as possible to convey the messages both hidden and obvious.
Tony turned around, crawled onto the bed and then remained there, kneeling, back straight and head high. He didn’t touch the cuffs, didn’t explore, but his shoulders kept twitching and his patience would wear thin soon.
Steve moved in after him, then set one firm hand on Tony’s upper back, the spot where his neck met his shoulders. One of the first lessons he had learned was that Tony didn’t need someone to be gentle with him at this point – not yet – but regardless of how much he claimed he could take pain, Steve knew he wasn’t very receptive to it either – not in a way that helped. Pain was what they had left behind, on the streets that had suffered today’s battle, and it had no place here, in the already cluttered mind of a man who had suffered so much and still courted pain regardless of that.
Pushing forward with his hand, Steve made Tony lean over until the man was bent forward, still on his knees but with his head against the bed. He didn’t tell Tony to stay put, and save for an occasional twitch of muscle and shallow breaths, the engineer didn’t move.
Steve moved his hand down wordlessly, sliding it down Tony’s right arm to the elbow, then grasped the limb to guide it backwards until it lay next to Tony’s shin. Grabbing a carabiner from the bed where he had thrown it earlier, he positioned both cuffs so that their D-rings were on the same side and then connected them together.
As he moved to Tony’s other side, proceeding to position his left arm the same way, he saw Tony tugging testily at his bound limbs. Reaching for the second metal loop, Steve tied Tony’s left arm and leg together, then pulled away to wait for Tony to adjust to the new position. They had several agreed upon signs to signal distress, yet he knew that depending on his mood, Tony would either forget to use one or blatantly refuse it. Thus it fell to Steve to keep an eye on him, which at this point meant making sure the position wasn’t too hard on the arc reactor mounted in Tony’s chest.
With no visible strain in Tony’s breathing, Steve moved to the side, grabbing another item he had thrown on the bed; a dildo of medium size and width. Nothing to get excited about, as Tony would tell him, but it was good enough to start with, and frankly, it was one of Steve’s favorites. Mostly because despite what Tony said, he got fairly excited about it.
Snatching lube from the bedside drawer, Steve coated the toy with it, feeling the smooth, elastic surface beneath his grip. It gave a little beneath his touch, its head just as smooth as the rest of it – truly, not the fanciest toy he had seen in Tony’s closet. It was there for a reason, though, and he shifted again to position himself between Tony’s spread legs, nudging them a bit further apart while lying a steadying hand on Tony’s hip to make sure he was steady.
Tony’s breaths had picked up and continued to do so as Steve pushed the excess lube against his exposed ass. He noted that Tony must have fingered himself, briefly, while in the shower, but it wasn’t enough to provide a proper stretch. A temporary relief, perhaps, while anticipating Steve’s arrival and Tony’s mind too preoccupied to actually focus on it.
Steve brought the toy up and pushed the slick, smooth head at Tony’s entrance. The flesh yielded more than the silicone, accepting the dildo with a faint groan from Tony’s throat. With a steady pressure, Steve pushed the dildo as far as it would go before actual resistance, then let it sit there before dragging it outwards again. It felt like Tony’s body was trying to cling to it, but Steve’s grip at the base was unyielding. So as not to disappoint, Steve pushed it back in, smoother this time, and soon enough the glide was effortless, Tony relaxing to the sensation until it became a part of him.
He didn’t count seconds or strokes; Steve simply waited, watching Tony’s thighs shiver, the fingers curl and uncurl each time Steve pulled the dildo completely out of his body before pushing it back in, smoothly, watching the rim stretch and accept the intrusion again. Steve knew how soft and warm it was inside, and it took him a moment to remind himself that he would, eventually, get to feel it as well.
Just… not quite yet.
Not before Tony was ready.
When it was time – Tony was trying to inch back into the thrusts, his head lying sideways on the bed, lips twitching around the ball gag – Steve pulled the toy back and tossed it to the side. With sure arms, he urged Tony to turn onto his side, then over to his back. With his hands and legs still tied together, it was awkward, but Steve had no trouble arranging him and Tony eventually lay there, thighs spread and back arching slightly to accommodate the stretch.
Looking him over, Steve reached to the side, finding the next item to suit his needs: a firm yet elastic band of rubber. Stretching it around the fingers of his right hand, he palmed Tony’s hard cock and balls with his left and carefully slid the cock ring around them. Tony’s chest heaved at the new sensation and his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.
Steve moved on, trying to decide what to do. To buy himself time, he reached up for a pillow, placing it under Tony’s head to ease the strain on his neck. He liked having a plan, but he also liked alternatives – plenty of which he had thrown onto the bed earlier – and instead of taking a longer route, he reached for one of the vibrators. The one he chose had a slight flare at the end and a remote in the end of a foot-long wire.
He glanced at Tony as he picked it up; the other man was craning his neck, watching, eyes still restless as they moved from one spot to another. Steve eased one hand across a taut thigh, then released the vibrator long enough to push Tony’s legs just a fraction wider, his tied arms forcing them to remain in a bent position. Satisfied, Steve found the lube again and applied a small amount to the vibrator, then slid it up and inside Tony’s ass, deep as it would go.
This part was easy.
Steve took the remote and pushed at a button. He could hear the faint sound of vibrations and Tony’s legs twitched minutely, then settled again. His eyes searched the ceiling, the opposite wall, then finally landed on Steve. Between them, his body was taut, his cock hard and leaking a bit at the tip.
“Fifteen minutes,” Steve said, switching the settings up a bit. “Don’t let it slip out or we’ll start over.”
Tony blinked at him, nose twitching as his lips curled, slightly. A trail of saliva was on his cheek from the previous position and Steve idly wiped it away before getting up from the bed.
He didn’t go far: opening the bathroom door, he switched on the lights and washed his hands. An internal clock ran in his head, counting seconds. Fifteen minutes wasn’t that different from any other time he could have picked, but it was the one he had chosen and so they would wait. After all, it wasn’t just Tony whose self-control was being tested, but Steve’s as well. He may have been focused until now, having something to do, but with nothing to occupy himself but the countdown, his hard cock reminded him of its existence.
Returning to the side of the bedroom, Steve glanced at Tony. He hadn’t moved, but he must have done something because the vibrator had slipped out a few inches and with the vibrations, it was moving even further. Steve didn’t say anything to comment on the failure. He simply moved over, pushed the vibrator back inside and decided not to change the settings. “Fifteen minutes,” he repeated.
Tony gave him a look and Steve knew he was biting the inside of the ball gag, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
Steve went to remove his shirt, setting it down on a chair, then tugged down his pants. The material caught on his hard length, giving him friction, but if Tony was waiting, so was he.
Looking at the bed again, he could tell the other man was struggling not to squeeze his inner muscles the wrong way; Tony didn’t want to start over. He knew Steve would stick to the rule, no matter how long it took them to get it right.
As the minutes trickled by, Tony’s body relaxed, then grew tense again. His eyes were squeezed shut in concentration and effort. His breaths had turned into pants, a small sound leaving his throat every now and then. His fingers curled into fists, opening only to grab his ankles, to either ease the tension or change his position slightly. His entire body twitched every now and then, trembling before upgrading to almost constant shudders of intense focus.
His mind was letting go, zeroing in on this. Everything else was beginning to fade, Steve could almost see it, and it was beautiful. Tony never got like this, no matter how much he drank, worked out or worked in the lab. Mere physical or intellectual strain didn’t provide him an outlet from the depths of his own mind – not before his mind and body were brought to the same level; recalibrated to match each other after drifting too far apart to find each other on their own.
As silently as he could, Steve slid his thumbs inside the waistband of his pants and pushed them the rest of the way down his legs. He knew that such a small sound or movement wouldn’t register in Tony’s mind, but he wished not to break the other man’s concentration just yet. However, the time was up, and Steve’s body demanded that he move on, to give them both what they needed and deserved.
He stepped forward and reached out before hitting the bed; not wanting to stop for it later, he grabbed the lube and brought his slick fingers around the familiar hardness of his shaft, coating it without actually lingering on the sensations. It may have been tempting to keep going, just a little bit longer, but he unfolded his fingers and cleaned them on a towel – Tony’s, from his shower – laid in a heap on the edge of the bed. He took it and threw it over the back of a chair, mind already moving on to focus on what came next.
Steve moved to the side of the bed and leaned forward. His hand skirted over Tony’s chest, to the rise and fall of the arc reactor, which highlighted the curves of Tony’s muscles and ribs, just as it cast a glow on the scars and bruises equally, regardless of whether they were permanent or temporary.
Tony’s head jerked up a few inches, eyes blinking at the contact. Even after all this time, a touch like that made him bolt into full alertness – and that’s why Steve always started with it. As he settled his weight on the bed, on his knees between Tony’s spread legs, his hand moved up, past the scars and the device, along his sweaty neck up to the side of his face. Tony acted as if that were the first touch between them, turning his head towards it, eyes closing again, his body relaxing into it.
Even with the tension of the pleasure, of holding on, he was finally calm.
Steve moved his left hand between their bodies while keeping his right where it was, the tips of his fingers caressing the sweaty hair on Tony’s temple. He turned off the vibrations and then curled his fingers around the base of the toy, pulling it out slowly, sensually, deliberately.
“Mmm,” Tony hummed, chest heaving higher, once, as he took the sensation and accepted it. His throat worked, swallowing.
Steve inched closer, finding his balance on the bed, then placed both his hands on Tony’s hips. His fingers fanned out, towards the small of his back, just as he leaned forward over his smaller body. The smell in his nostrils was pure Tony. This was what lay beneath the oil and metal, alcohol and cologne. Well, there was still the slight odor of metal – and coconuts, a detail which always made Tony’s smile widen and falter almost at the same time if mentioned. Steve’s face ghosted over his skin until his lips finally encountered the skin of Tony’s cheek, beneath the strap of the gag and above the carefully trimmed line of facial hair.
“I love you.”
The words came easy, like breathing. Just like when he slightly lifted Tony’s hips, to line up their bodies before drawing upwards and thrusting inside. Nothing in Tony’s entire being resisted during that one perfect moment of bliss.
Tony’s eyes opened narrowly, his breaths stuttering as his head rose off the pillow in order to watch Steve lift his hips further up, forcing his bound legs and wrists along with it. The change in angle was good though, for both of them, and Steve couldn’t help moving into it, a step closer to rapture before the sensations steadied slightly.
The brunette’s head plopped back down, eyes squeezed shut. Dark lashes shivered against the sweat-slick cheeks and every now and then his head would twitch from one side to the other, his breaths catching as if he couldn’t quite find Steve’s rhythm. His body shook against Steve’s, knees pressing at his arms, not struggling but seeking for something, desperately.
As it happened, it was the same thing Steve was looking for: abandon and release.
With one last shove deep into the slick warmth, Steve pulled out and lowered Tony’s body back onto the bed. He felt the confusion, the expectation, and reached down to undo Tony’s wrist from his ankles, unfastening the ankle cuffs as he went and tossing them to the side. Before Tony could catch himself, Steve turned him over onto his stomach, trapping Tony beneath his body as he blindly reached for another item he knew he had thrown onto the bed. His memory served him well, his fingers closing around the cord with a metal loop in each end.
Opening the spring gate with his thumb, Steve slid the D-ring of the wrist cuff inside it and slid the cord around the headboard of the bed, drawing Tony’s right arm up with it and forcing his upper body down onto the bed. After securing both wrists, Steve yanked Tony just a little bit lower on the bed, feeding the illusion that he had nowhere to escape.
Tony was forcing his breaths to even out, fingers curling against the pillow as his legs shifted, to move his waist higher off the bed. His hips shifted minutely, so close, and Steve yearned to be inside him again, to seek out the completion they both needed, but there was one step left to ensure they got there; he slid his right hand down, not touching Tony’s skin before his fingers closed around the cock ring and tugged it off carefully yet determinedly. He heard Tony’s breath of surprise, registered the slight twitch of his head, but that was all secondary to the fact that Steve was free to slide balls deep into him in the next moment.
It felt like something came unhinged, just slightly.
Steve’s thrusts were still careful and purposeful, but he was losing the fine control; his even rhythm broke apart surely and steadily under the muted sounds that were just slightly louder than Tony’s breaths. His fingers fisted the sheets on either side of the other man’s body, trying to ground himself for a moment longer, but in the end it was all in vain.
His crotch hit Tony’s upturned ass with a sharp slap and the man beneath him responded with a cry of pleasure. The tempo changed, turning desperate in those last few seconds of clarity, and then Steve felt the wave pass through Tony’s body, chorused by another muffled cry on his lips, and he knew the other man had just come.
It was like someone tugged open the last knot holding his control together and Steve let go, throwing his head back and arching into Tony. Whether he cried out or not, Steve couldn’t remember afterwards. He could hardly draw in enough air in the next few moments, whereas Tony remained collapsed on the bed, silent, eyes shut and expression serene.
Steve swallowed and kept collecting air into his lungs, gentle fingers undoing the cuffs and pulling them away, then releasing the ball gag. Tony merely blinked, shifting his head slightly, remaining where he was. Steve wished for nothing more than to join him, so he collected the items on the bed and dumped them in the bathroom sink. His hand reached out for Tony’s almost-dry towel and he used it to clean up the worst of the mess on the bed as Tony finally moved to let him do it. Seizing the opportunity, he also cleaned Tony and himself up somewhat, then tossed the towel off the bed and laid out behind the other man before anything else could come up.
Like so many times before, Steve slid his top arm beneath Tony’s and over his chest, covering the arc reactor although its glow still filtered from between his fingers. Most people probably would have aimed for the heart, but it was close enough and more meaningful like this.
He saw the muscles of Tony’s face move into a soft, content smile, the tension gone. Tony just lay there, not thinking, not doing anything, and it was beautiful. Steve watched him, drinking in every detail, knowing how rare it was for Tony to just be.
Before long, though, Tony shifted minutely and turned his head. He never opened his eyes, trusting Steve to be there, to meet him half-way in a kiss. This one lingered longer than the one before, yet it was equally soft and unobtrusive. It was Tony’s way of saying ‘thank you’, and Steve’s reassurance that he would always be there.
The kiss ran its course and eventually they parted, Tony’s eyes opening briefly to check his face. His gaze moved past him, momentarily, and he huffed. “It’s snowing.” He didn’t sound as upset at the prospect of it as before.
Steve craned his neck, looking out the window behind them as well, at the same time that Tony whispered a command into the room and the lights went out. In the darkness, the arc reactor shone like a star; the lone source of light in the otherwise dark and bleak space. Like the sun in winter, warming Steve to the core.
Tony finally settled down to sleep, sighing deeply as Steve leaned firmly against his back. Steve’s hand still lay close to the source of the blue hue, and before long, Tony’s fingers moved to wrap around his.
Author’s note: I’m still certain this doesn’t capture half the spirit, loveliness and hotness of the short-comic. If you haven’t read it yet (and I can’t believe you haven’t!), go check it out and leave the artist, LP, all the love and adoration she deserves! (AO3 / DW / LJ)