#'my sleep has gotten way worse even though i had a set schedule ... wait'

[hoeforgvf]

Missing you.

Warnings: feeling alone besides that, nothing :)

Josh x reader

You have been struggling with being alone recently especially that josh was on tour with the band. They where your best friends. You had another friend, Sophia. You guys started becoming close because of your job. You worked for a local restaurant for part time. You took some college classes online because you wanted to become a digital marketer. It was something you enjoyed and something you could see yourself doing in the future. You and Sophia always get the same shift so you too bond over the small things. Lots of times you go over to her house after work and chill out. Even though josh was out touring the world, Sophia was a breath of fresh air. You enjoyed hanging out with her and doing fun activities or even just having a girls night and going to the bar. Recently however you feel so burned out. School has been kicking your butt and your boss has put you on the schedule for more shifts recently. You didn’t even feel like socializing or talking to anyone except josh. Josh was your anchor in your life. You didn’t have a father figure so have a male in your life that cared so much about you felt so good. Without josh you felt empty.

“Hey mama!” Josh says with a big smile across his face. It was hard to act happy when the only way to talk to josh was through a phone. “Hey josh.” You tried to put on your happy face but it wasn’t convincing. “Are you okay baby?” You could almost here the worry in his voice. “Yea I’m fine, just a little tired, I had a long shift today.” “Oh ok. Just making sure.” Josh sounded convinced that time. “Hey y/n” “yea josh?” That time josh sounded a little nervous. “You know how we had a break in between the next 2 shows coming up?” The boys planned a week off to come home in a couple of weeks. You have been looking forward to it since josh told you. You had this gut feeling that josh was going to tell you some bad news. “Well um… this festival reached out and asked we could play a set. The band that was going to play dropped out and they needed a last minute band to play and well… we said yes.” There it was, the last bit of excitement to see josh was out the door. You couldn’t believe that you had to wait another full month to see josh. There was a silence on the phone. “Y/n, did you hear me?” “oh uh yea, I did.” He could hear the disappointment, he could see it in your face too. “I’m sorry baby.” “It’s fine. I understand.” You didn’t understand. You didn’t get how they could have just said yes. The only break they had they decided to play for a festival. “Look josh I got to get ready for bed and I have some school work to finish. I will talk later.” “Oh ok that’s fine, love you babe, sleep good.” “Love you too josh.” You hit end call. Tears immediately came rolling down your face. You needed josh there with you. He knew how to help you breathe and calm down. He knew the right things to say and how to help get through it. But he wasn’t here. You couldn’t feel his presence. You need his physical touch. You craved his attention and love.

You try your best to pull yourself together and call your boss. It rings a second and then he picks up. “Hello?” “Hey, Mr. Haze, I won’t be able to come in the rest of the week.” “Oh why?” “I have a stomach bug. It started yesterday at work and has gotten worse. If you could just fill someone else in and take my shifts I would really appreciate it.” “Sure. I will try my best. Feel better soon.” “Thank you.” The call ended only for you to bring another contact up. “Sophia are you busy?” You texted Sophia in hopes that she didn’t have plans tonight. You needed to talk to someone about this and well she was the only person you could think of. You go take the remaining makeup off you face. It wasn’t much because you had basically cried it all off but it always felt good to clean your face and have a fresh start. You walk back to your phone that was left on the bed. “No I’m not busy. Wanna come over?” Perfect. “Yes, can I come now?” “Yes.” You got a bag and filled it with an extra pair of clothes and your hairbrush. You got into your car and put on some music. It was hard holding back your tears. You just wanted josh to hold you and everything be ok. You pull up to Sophia’s house and walk up to the door. You didn’t have to stand long before the door swung open. “Heyy!” “Are you okay?” Sophia smile drops. You walk into her home. “To be completely honest no, not really.” “Y/k, what’s wrong?” Y’all walked to her room. She had a beautiful room. You have always loved it. She had the softest bed and the prettiest lamps and vanity. “I miss josh so fucking much.” You and Sophia talked about boyfriends a lot and like to compare your relationships together. She was dating a guy named Collin and they have been together for about a year and a half. You and josh have been together for almost a year. Collin also traveled for work. He got paid to travel. He goes around to different conferences and conventions on the behalf of his business. He loved work just like josh. You and Sophia where similar in this way, You boyfriends always gone. Sophia pulls you in to a tight hug. “It’s okay y/k, you will see him soon right?” Tears start to form in your eyes. “No.” That was all you managed to say. You got all choked up again and started to feel your chest start to hurt. “Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” She takes a deep breath for you to follow. “Y/k follow my breathing okay.” Once you start to feel yourself calm down she grabs your hand and walks you to the bed. You both sit across from each other sitting criss cross. “So what happened?” She asked. “You know how I told you that josh was coming home soon for a week.” “Yea.” “Well this band dropped out of this festival thing so they needed a replacement. Long story short I won’t bring seeing josh for another month.” You could see Sophia’s eyes start to water. She knew what this was like. She knew how it felt to be disappointed like this. Collin a lot of the times called her to say that his work wanted him to stay longer and to attend training and more work related things. Sophia talked to you about how she thinks that he might cheating on her but she can’t bring herself to confront him about the suspicion. She still loves Collin and this is her longest relationship so she doesn’t want to lose him forever. You two go on and talk about how you too miss your boyfriends and she tried to comfort you in the best ways she could. You two ended up snuggling up to each other while falling asleep to a movie she had picked. The physical touch was nice. It wasn’t Josh’s but it was nice to just feel something especially after break down after break down.

Weeks went by and you and josh talked on the phone almost every day. You missed him so much and couldn’t wait to see him. You and Sophia spent a lot of time together when her boyfriend wasn’t home. You appreciated here presents and it was nice to have someone to talk to in person. You went ahead and took off the 2 weeks that josh was going to be in town. It was going to be his longest break. You had a countdown on your phone that you looked at every day. After so long It finally said 0 more days. You thought that you would pick the boys up but to your surprise you found him laying in the bed when you came home. You had picked him up some flowers and some more groceries for the week. You almost had a heart attack when you saw him laying in the bed sleeping because your first thought was not josh came home early. You quickly realized it was him when his eyes fluttered open and he turned around to see you. You practically ran to the bed and jumped on top of him. He gave you kisses and you too didn’t say anything for 5 minutes. Just adoring and holding each other. Josh broke the silence first. “Hey baby.” His voice just made you melt even more into him. “Hey joshy.” “I missed you so fucking much y/n” You both started to tear up. “I missed you too. More than you could imagine.” You both smile at each other with tears falling down your cheeks. His hand on your cheek and his other hand rubbing your back. Your arms wrapped around his neck and legs tangled with his. His lips met yours and you just enjoyed his presence. “I got you something.” You say when you break away from the kiss. “I got you something too!” Josh smiles wide and starts to get off the bed. He opens his suitcase to pull a small bag out. “Open it.” He gives you the bag. You sit up and look into the bag. You pull out a small box and open it. It was a silver necklace with simple and small diamonds. “Josh this is beautiful oh my god.” You take it fully out of the box before josh grabs it and puts it around your neck. You hold your hair back as he clasps it. “It looks good on you mama.” “It’s so pretty josh, thank you so much.” You stand up and give him a big hug and he kisses your forehead. “Anything for you honey.” “Well my gift isn’t as good as this but it’s still something.” You both walk down stairs into the kitchen with a vase of different white and red flowers and a gift bag next to them. “Oh baby there beautiful, just like you.” He has a smirk on his face. You grab the bag and hand it to him. He opens it with the biggest smile. “Y/k!!! How did you know I was looking for this!!” “I was looking at every record shop I could find while traveling to get this record.” It was a rare John Denver album that was difficult to find around here. “Me and Sophia went on a day trip to this little town near here and came across this cool music place. They had guitars, drums, amps, everything you could think of with musical instruments but they also had records and record players on the side so we decided to look at them.” “I almost screamed when I found it. I immediately thought if you.” “Baby, thank you so much. it’s the best gift ever.” He grabs you hips and pulls you closer. You share an intimate kiss. “I’m going to go play this right now.” you both walk to the living room where you keep your turntable. He flips the record to side 1 and grabs your hands. You too dance and sing to the music flowing through the home. After dancing for awhile josh asks you if they boys can come over and of corse you say yes because despite you wanting alone time with josh you missed them too. They came a couple of hours later. Sam brought some drinks. Danny and Jake brought Chinese for everyone. they all talked about the all the crazy tour stories so far. After they left you and josh cleaned up the mess and got ready for bed. You too pick a movie knowing that you would fall asleep in middle of it. You held each other just like how you and Sophia wear holding each other. You and josh spent every waking moment with each other. You missed him so much

AN: This is my first fic on here, I hope y’all like it lol. If y’all have requests you can request them. I will try to get to them. I love writing so I had fun writing this! ❤️

[miekasa]

any spare levi headcanons tonight????? 😁😁😁😁

Sure, why not, he is the love of my life after all. These are pretty random, and fit in some sort of generalized modern boyfriend au. Hopelessly domestic, as that is the nature of nearly everything I write for Levi, anyway. Also still terribly obsessed with the idea of him with a motorcycle, so there’s that.

He owns at least six black blazers. They’re nearly identical; slight differences in texture and cut, one with lapels, one that’s boldly all leather that you swear you’ve never seen him wear. They’re kind of his go-to staple, other than a sweater.

That being said, he doesn’t exclusively wear all black. His closet leans towards more neutrals, sure, but he’s not allergic to color. You might not catch him wearing neon orange on the average day, but he’s not averse to a nice shade of green, any shade of purple that suits his mood, even a softer pink.

He has towels and rags he sets aside especially for you when he comes over. He always washes them and put them back in place when you leave so that they’re ready to go for next time.

Claims to not have any attachment to the shows/dramas you watch, but he’s totally backseat watching. Halfway into every single series, he starts sitting down when you turn it on, and scoffs at dumb decisions the characters make.

He splurged on one of those frame TVs that look like a painting when they’re idle. It was a good investment in his opinion.

He doesn’t hate Starbucks drinks—there’s worse things out there in terms of quality of tea. What he despises about the establishment is the way they call out names for you to pick up your order. He’s learned that mobile order ahead is the way to go.

Has slippers for around the house, so consequently, you have slippers for walking around his house. He keeps both pairs (and a few extra for friends and guests) tucked neatly beside the door for easy access; yours always go next to his.

Does not understand the purpose of a robe. Buy him one tho and he will suddenly find an excuse to wear it: making breakfast, lounging around watching TV, doing some light cleaning and dusting. It’s comfy, alright, he can admit that much.

The little puppy you got him that he swore he was not going to warm up to now gets the royal treatment. The best doggie goods and treats, top rated shampoos, cutest drying towels, even a miniature couch he constructed just for the pup. They’re best friends, there’s no breaking that bond now.

Speaking of the puppy, affectionately named Captain, Levi can be found walking him every day shortly after work. They have a few different routes, but they always pass by the local vendors/market, who enthusiastically anticipate their appearance every day. Some of the older ladies running stands have even taken to bringing a few treats with them for Captain—after bundling up some goods for Levi, too, of course.

Captain also has a special doggy backpack Levi uses for when he’s on his motorcycle. If you follow anybody on TikTok in his area, you’re bound to see at least one video of the pup while Levi’s out riding. He’s become viral on social media without even knowing it.

(When you show him a video someone posted of him and Captain with well over 100k likes, and a million views, he only rolled his eyes. But remembers that particularly day; remembers the folks had a kid who politely asked to pet the dog, so he let him. He also maybe asks you to send the link to him).

On the subject of the motorcycle, there was a good few weeks he wouldn’t let you on it. Always found an excuse, a smart reply that was punctuated with gentle push on your forehead and calling you too clumsy for it. Later, you found out it’s because he’d ordered you a helmet; didn’t want to risk you riding without one.

He always keeps it in the storage compartment should he make a stop to pick you up while he’s riding; and he usually wears at least two layers to have a spare to wrap you in before you get on.

When he cooks, he always makes sure there’s enough for leftovers and/or to give you some later. He also bakes frequently, and at least once a week, he stops by with some kind of treat for you—“Trying out a new recipe, let me know if you think it’s missing anything.”

On the subject of food, he won’t police what you eat to annoying extent; he knows that not everybody has the time or will to make pasta from scratch like he does. But, he will smack your wrist if you consider ordering fast food when you’re over at this place. Give him 30 minutes and a single pan, he’ll make something much better than whatever you can find on Uber Eats.

Really, though, he doesn’t mean to obnoxious about the homemade food thing, it’s more habit for him. Growing up, he had to learn to be resourceful, so buying fast-food isn’t ever at the forefront of his mind. Cooking for you also turns out to be something somewhat intimate that he enjoys, so just let him.

Once bought an Apple Watch because he liked the look of them, it wasn’t insanely expensive like other high end watches, and it could connect to his other devices, so why not? A week later he returned it, the ping of his notifications were in one too many places for his liking.

You tried to convince him to keep it—“At least for when you’re jogging! It can track your activity and calories!”—but he clicks his teeth. He’ll survive without keeping track of them.

He learned the hard way that jogging with Captain is no good. His legs are too tiny and Levi ended up carrying the puppy the entire time. Captain is more of a walk dog… or ride on the back of his bike dog.

If you changed anything in his phone settings—like the ringtone for you contact, or the sound his keyboard makes—he wouldn’t go back in and try to figure out how to reset it. Unless it was something obnoxious, like adding an autocorrect shortcut to say something lewd.

He doesn’t really listen to music when he’s just walking. When he’s on a run, that’s fine, but he somewhat prefers to just… hear the environment around him when he’s on a stroll or a break from work. The only reason he’d have headphones on in public is to take a phone call, but even then, he’d prefer to wait until he’s somewhere more private.

He likes having you over at his apartment and has contemplated asking you to move in. He doesn’t want to rush anything, though, so he’s content with your sleepovers for now. (Though he really cannot fathom that you call them “sleepovers” like you’re 14. Please).

He speaks to his mother at least once a week, and she always asks about you. Levi tells her that you’re fine, gives her small updates about you, but Kuchel really just wants to know when the wedding is. He pretends to be busy whenever she starts asking and conveniently ends the call.

Occasionally, he’ll stop by and take you out for lunch. Depends on how much time he has during the day for himself, but he always enjoys sharing a meal with you.

Whenever you’re out with your friends drinking, Levi will pick you up. Even if you already told him that you’d Uber home; as soon as you text him that you’re going to leave soon, he’s already on his way.

He makes pretty good cocktails himself. Teases you for running his alcohol supply dry when the truth is he has more of your favorites in his cabinet than his own. He secretly likes the way you flirt with him when you’re tipsy.

You don’t always cuddle on top of each other when you sleep together. You can just lay by each other and that’s enough; but sometimes, you catch Levi turning towards you in his sleep, reaching for your hand. His body seems to search for yours subconsciously, and you swear there’s a hint of a smile on his sleeping face when you put your hand within reach.

Do not try to pay for dinner when you’re out with him. He’ll pull the “I’m going to use the restroom” move and pay the bill behind your back if he needs to. Open your own doors, maybe; pull out your own chairs, sure if you want; but not this.

He flosses very diligently every night. Mostly because he fucking hates the dentist, so if he takes the extra steps and is extra careful with his teeth, he doesn’t have to go as often, right?—Wrong, it’s the one time the roles are reversed, and you and Hange have to wrestle him into the doctor’s office.

On the flip side, if there are any doctors you routinely avoid and/or forget to schedule check ups for, fear not, because Levi will do it for you. He’ll drive you there, too—the only caveat being, that he usually doesn’t tell you where you’re going until you’re almost there. You think he’s doing the mysterious man surprise date thing and then boom, he’s pulling up to the ophthalmologist. Good luck.

He’s purchased a physical, paper copy of the news on every one of your anniversaries, birthdays, and other special occasions. He keeps them all neatly tucked away in a drawer. Sometimes, he looks back on them—sees what was happening in the world around you on that day. Maybe someday he’ll cut them up and bind them together in a book for you.

He doesn’t like having headphones in when you’re home with him, and preferred if you didn’t either—unless it was for work or school. He welcomes you to use his speakers and play your music aloud; he likes listening to what you listen to. If you look closely, you can catch him humming along or tapping his foot when he really likes a song.

Saves pictures you send him in an album in his camera roll. Occasionally can be found scrolling through them—particularly if you’ve been away on a trip, or he hasn’t gotten the chance to see you because of conflicting schedules.

He takes relatively short showers and doesn’t have a strong preference for the water temperature, so he lets you shower first. Unless you want him to join you, of course.

It’s not hard to tell when Levi wants you. He becomes noticeably more touchy, even if that margin isn’t too wide by anyone else’s standards; and he rarely tries to hide it. It only happens in the privacy of your apartments; but he’ll come on to you—leaning a bit further into conversations, a hand on your knee, a kind of cloudy look in his eyes.

Sometimes he forgoes the attempts at being subtle, just kisses you out the blue, carefully backs you up against the wall, puts his hands on your hips. He can be awfully direct when given the opportunity.

[a-n-conrad]

Sparring Partners (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

[Summary: Being the newest Avenger was a little rough. You appreciated how helpful most of the other Avengers were with getting you adjusted to life in the tower. However, you got a little too friendly with your new sparring partner. (She/Her Pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT (dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), biting, slight hair pulling), not canon compliant (I’m too stressed for real angst), “Avengers Tower” AU, swearing, fairly long

Request: From my Request Form (https://forms.gle/GRTQ1eQt8rk7jJgf6)]

It was an odd adjustment, being the newest member of the Avengers. You really couldn’t complain about living in Avengers Tower. It was a nice facility, with everything you could ever need. The training center was high-tech, the kitchen was always fully stocked, and the infirmary was nice enough that you didn’t mind having to be the group’s healer. But the other Avengers were interesting roommates to adjust to.

Everyone had their own schedule, and it took you a little while to adjust to it. It took you a couple weeks before you stopped bumping into people on their way out of the kitchen. And you eventually realized that unless you wanted to accidentally be caught up in one of Nat’s sparring matches, training in the middle of the day was basically a no go. But eventually you started to get used to it.

You had figured out that if you got up early, the only people you’d run into in the kitchen were Steve and Tony. And you could avoid having to actually talk to them right away if you made them breakfast. Steve usually appreciated something lean and healthy, though you usually added a bit of shredded cheese to the top of his scrambled eggs anyway, because he really needed to stop worrying so much. And Tony would usually be happy with some bacon and coffee. Honestly, it was just good to get him to eat something.

And then, for most of the day, you would work in the lab or the infirmary, occasionally running through a few tests with Bruce. He was one of the few Avengers who didn’t stress you out. You really couldn’t help it. You may get most of your healing ability from your powers, but you still had some medical training. And that meant that you knew full well that every member of this team was a different brand of self-destruction. So you and Bruce were working on a few projects to help the team take at least slightly better care of themselves.

And then you’d train at night. Not many people trained at night. Usually just you, though occasionally someone would wake up in the middle of the night, and need something to do. Nightmares weren’t exactly uncommon among the team. Tony would occasionally be up late, testing out some new gadget of his. Sometimes Nat would go running late at night. However, the most common late-night visitor to the training facility was Bucky Barnes.

You knew that he had some fairly bad nightmares, though he refused to talk to you about it. And you could tell that they had been getting worse lately. He was visiting a lot more often, and getting a lot more aggressive with his training. You could tell that something was wrong, but you knew that Bucky hated when you tried to counsel him. So instead, you had just been monitoring him, watching out for anything more concerning than usual.

- - - - -

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Steve asked you one morning, as he leaned against the counter, waiting for you to finish making breakfast, “Have you noticed something weird with Bucky lately?”

You raised an eyebrow at the question. You were still fairly new to the team, so it was odd for anyone to consider you an expert on any of the team members, let alone someone’s close friend, “Why do you ask? You’re his best friend, you should know if there was something odd going on.”

“Oh, well,” Steve seemed a bit sheepish, “It’s just that you’re like the resident doctor, so I was wondering if he told you anything. He’s just seemed a bit upset lately.”

“Well, first of all, Steve, you know that Bucky refuses to talk to me,” You start, beginning to move the completed food to the plates that you had set out, “And second, even if he did tell me something, you know that I couldn’t tell you about it, in good conscience.”

“So you haven’t noticed anything?” He gave you that stupid golden retriever pout as you handed him his food. You wondered if that was part of why Bucky kept him around when he was just a scrappy kid getting into fights that he couldn’t win. It was just so hard to say no to him when he made that sad, puppy-dog look.

“I mean,” You sighed, “He’s been up a lot, training in the middle of the night recently. So, I wouldn’t say I haven’t noticed anything. I’ve just been minding my own business.”

“And you should keep minding your own business,” Tony spoke up for the first time through a mouthful of bacon, “If he wanted to talk to someone about it, I’m sure he would. You don’t need to pick up on any of Capsicle’s nosiness.”

“Oh, please,” Steve scoffed, “Like you’re one to talk about getting up in everyone’s business, Tony.”

Tony flipped him off, grabbing his coffee and slinking away back to his lab. You weren’t sure if he had slept at all the night prior, but that was decaf coffee, so you were hoping that at the very least he’d sleep during the day. It was the little things that kept these heroes alive.

“Ok, anyway,” Steve drew your attention back, “What has he been doing?”

“Just training, Steve. He’s just been going off on the training dummies. It’s clear that he’s just taking something out on the dummies. He’s got it handled, Steve. He doesn’t need anyone up his ass to try and ‘fix’ him. It’s just gonna piss him off.”

Steve nodded as though he understood, though you could tell by the look in his eyes that the conversation wasn’t really over.

- - - - -

You knew something bad was about to happen when Steve walked into the infirmary, Bucky being dragged along behind him. They didn’t get hurt. And they rarely needed to stop in for check-ups. So you had a feeling that this wasn't going to end well for you.

“What can I help you two gentlemen with today?” You asked, pausing the task that you were originally working on.

“Well, I was just thinking,” Steve started, already giving you his stupid puppy-dog eyes, “You really haven’t gotten a lot of combat training...”

“No, I suppose I haven’t,” you set your face into a neutral expression, getting ready to try and turn down whatever scheme he was trying to pitch to you. You didn’t know Steve that well, but you knew that he had a bad habit of getting into everyone else’s business to try to fix everything.

“Well, I would offer to help, but I know that you prefer to train at night, and I usually train early in the morning,” he was starting to ramble like a nervous teenager, trying to get all of his reasoning before you could say no, “So I thought Bucky could help you.”

You should’ve known. He was trying to get you to help Bucky work through whatever was going on. And he was hoping that you would just go along with it. And you hated that the puppy-dog eyes were working on you again.

“Steve, I’m not going to force Bucky to train me. What do you think about that plan, Bucky?” You asked him, hoping that he would give you the excuse that you needed to say no. He just needed to say no for you, and you would both get out of this.

You saw Steve turn to face him, that look still on his face, and you knew that you were done for. You really should’ve known that Bucky couldn’t say no to Steve either, “Whatever, I suppose our healer shouldn’t get herself killed on missions. Just try to keep up.”

And with that, he turned and left. And you were left behind, not quite knowing how to react.

- - - - -

It was that night that your training started. Bucky walked into the training room about half an hour into your regular training session, giving you just enough time to warm up. The look on his face told you that he wasn’t thrilled about the idea, though you had a feeling that it was for a much different reason that you had.

“Alright, training mat. Now.” He demanded, his tone sharp and gruff. It reminded you a bit of your gym teacher in school. He had never been your biggest fan, for one reason or another.

“Don’t you need to warm up?” You asked a bit timidly, not wanting to upset him any more than he already was.

“No.”

You nodded, following him as he walked over to the area that was designed for sparring. It was padded enough that no one should get hurt in a reasonable fight. The sparring matches around here were rarely reasonable.

You situated yourself in the center of the ring, facing Bucky as he set his stance. He looked so focused, his brow set as he got himself ready. You realized that it had probably been a very long time since he had actually done any formal sparring. At least, without the intention to kill. But something about his face, set into a look that you couldn’t quite read and covered slightly by a bit of hair that was hanging in his face, made your heart skip a beat.

He was an attractive man. You knew that. You had heard from Steve almost constantly about how much of a ladies man Bucky was back in the day. But you hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. He was always looking down. And he had definitely never looked at you with this much focus in his eyes before.

“Hit me,” he commanded, though there was a hint of friendly coaching in his tone. Like he was actually looking forward to training you.

“What?”

“Throw a punch. Hit me. I need to see where you’re at before I can teach you anything.”

You throw a sloppy punch with your right hand. He blocked it without even thinking. You tried again. And then tried a kick. Tried to get a new angle. Tried to sweep his legs out. You had tried everything you could think of, everything you tried being easily blocked or dodged. You were starting to get tired out, and Bucky hadn’t even thrown a punch. You threw another punch, aiming straight for his face, only for him to grab your fist.

Before you knew it, he had pulled you into a chokehold, your back pressed firmly against his chest, and his metal arm wrapped around your neck as his other hand twisted your arm behind you. You could feel him breathing, just as steady as usually, and you had to wonder if he could feel how flustered you were as your body pressed against his. You could tell your heart was picking up, but you hoped that if he could feel it, he’d just attribute it to the training.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” He muttered, his mouth so much closer to your ear than you had expected. You could feel your cheeks heating up as his breath made your hair move just a little.

“Y-yeah,” you managed to choke out.

- - - - -

You two had been training like that for weeks, and it was starting to get to you. The close quarters, the skin to skin contact, it was going to kill you. If you wanted to know what a siren would look like to you if they existed, it would be Bucky Barnes, coated in sweat and getting ready to pin you to the training mat. And you were definitely having a hard time staying focused during your training.

It was especially late one night, you were guessing somewhere around 1:30 AM. Your training usually stopped around 12:30-1, but you were running a bit long. You had been especially distracted that night. Bucky had gotten a haircut for the first time in a long time, revealing his bright blue eyes. You could feel them on you as you trained even more than usual. You hadn’t minded his long hair, but when it was out of his face, you could see him much clearer. And that wasn’t always helpful.

There was a predatory glint to them as he got into position to spar, like a wolf stalking its prey. And as he loomed over you, pinning you to the ground after another failed attempt, you couldn’t say you minded feeling like prey.

“Alright,” Bucky groaned, his metal hand still pinning you to the floor, “What the hell is your deal tonight?”

You tried your best to hold your voice steady as he straddled your waist, his legs brushing against your own, “What do you mean?”

“Come on, (Y/n). You’ve been improving a ton lately, I know you can do better than this. So what’s got you all distracted?”

His face was so close to yours. His metal hand was holding both of your arms above your head, and his other was positioned right next to your chest. You could feel his body heat against you, and you were sure that he could feel your face heating up. There was no way he couldn’t figure it out by looking at you at this point. You were trembling, your eyes dilated as they locked onto his eyes. You looked like an absolute mess.

You could tell that he saw it too as his eyes scanned your body. You felt as though time slowed down as you watched his expression change. He raised an eyebrow, making you squirm a bit. Soon enough, though, a smirk spread across his face that reminded you of the stories that Steve told of Bucky from before the war, though the wolf-like glint never left his eyes.

“I see…” He drew out. You didn’t know if it was on purpose, but you saw his tongue dart out and flicker across his lips for just a moment. He leaned down a bit more until his face was next to your own, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “You know, Doll, if you wanted to do something else, you could’ve just asked.”

You swallowed deeply as you felt his warm breath brush against your ear. It sent a shock down your spine. You went to say something, only for the words to get jumbled in your mouth. You felt like a babbling idiot as your breathing refused to steady enough to let you get a single word out. And you felt a cold, empty feeling creep into your chest as he pulled back, leaving you without the extra body heat.

The tension between you was palpable, and you had been awake for long enough that you were starting to lose your impulse control. As Bucky leaned back, letting your arms go and smirking in a way that told you that he was proud of himself for people able to get under your skin so effectively, you couldn’t stop yourself. Before you knew it, you had flipped him onto his back, taking his spot on top.

You had caught him off guard, and the surprised look on his face told you that. But you had to admit he looked just as good down there as he did when he was pinning you down.

“Oh, you’re feisty,” He said, shifting to make himself comfortable, “But what’s your plan, Doll? Go on?”

You knew that he was egging you on, just trying to get you to do something. And it was working. You had been holding back the entire time. And your will was wearing thin.

You pulled him up a bit by the collar of his shirt, meeting him halfway in a passionate kiss. It was sloppy, but you really weren’t going to complain. You didn’t mind the clumsiness to it, especially once he sat up the rest of the way, pulling you even closer to him. Without even realizing it, you had started to grind against him, rolling your hips without meaning to. He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he pulled away.

It was then that you realized exactly what you had been doing. Your face was flushed, your hair was a mess from him running his hand through it, and you could feel the thumb of his metal hand press into the skin of your stomach since your shirt had started to slide up. You looked utterly desperate.

“Doll, are you sure you wanna do this?” You could hear the insecurity seeping into his voice, and you felt the grip of his metal hand loosen as he went to move it away. You knew Bucky was insecure about his past, and that his metal hand was a symbol of that. But at that moment, as you felt his hard-on press against you through your pants, there was absolutely no way you could possibly understand that.

“James Buchanan Barnes, shut the hell up and fuck me,” you demanded, though you left him space to back up if he wanted to. You didn't really want to pressure him into anything, but your brain was foggy.

Luckily for you, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he flipped the two of you over again, pinning you to the mat again. He had the wolf’s glint in his eyes again, and it made you weak. And as he bit into the crook of your neck, soft enough to make sure that he didn’t hurt you, but hard enough to leave a mark, you couldn’t help but let out a moan.

“Shh, (Y/n),” He whispered in your ear, making you rub your thighs together as the frustration and desperation built up between your legs, “We don’t want to wake anyone up.”

You nodded, biting your tongue to stop yourself from making too much noise as Bucky started to slide one of his hands down your body. You could see him admiring you as he pulled your clothing away. He held so much want in his eyes that you couldn’t even imagine feeling insecure under his gaze.

“God, doll, you really are just perfect,” He muttered as he lowered himself, his face nearing your cunt as he pulled your pants and underwear away. He was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. And you wanted him to.

You could feel the cool air against your soaking wet pussy as he pulled you into the position he wanted. You could feel his breath and against your pussy, and that in itself was enough to make you hold back a moan. You needed him so desperately. And even as he moved to bury his face in your cunt, you could feel his eyes on you.

One of your hands moved to grip his hair as he started with a broad lick up the length of your core. The other moved to your mouth, hoping to, at the very least, suppress your whimpers. You weren’t even entirely sure what he was doing with his tongue as he went down on you. Your vision started getting soft around the edges as he swirled your clit around with his tongue. You were sure that if you weren’t covering your mouth and biting your tongue, you’d be screaming. You were surprised at how good he was at this, but you definitely weren’t going to complain.

The feeling in your lower gut began to tighten after about ten minutes, and you knew that you were getting close. Bucky could tell too, as your grip on his hair tightened, pushing his face in even more. He was enjoying watching you be so desperate for him. And as he slid his tongue into you and then across your clit one more time, he enjoyed watching you come undone even more.

It took you a few moments to recover from your high. Your chest was heaving, and your skin was glimmering with a thin layer of sweat. You looked like the most perfect mess that Bucky had even seen. He couldn’t help but sit up and admire you. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about you in the same way that you were thinking about him. And seeing you there, spread out completely in front of him, was what he was sure heaven would look like if he ever got to go.

After a few minutes, you had finally recovered, and you had decided that Bucky deserved a little bit of care in return. You flipped him back over, again surprising Bucky. He really did look pretty as he laid under you, and as you pulled his shirt off, you had even more to admire.

You could tell that he was a bit insecure, reaching to cover a few of the scars on his chest. But you brushed his hand away, choosing instead to distract him. You kissed slowly down his chest, choosing a few spots to nibble slightly, hoping to leave a few marks for him. As you reached the waistband of his shorts, you felt a hand on your shoulder, signaling for you to pause.

“You really don’t have to do this, (Y/n). I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything,” he said, his blue eyes soft as they looked down at you. Soft, and insecure, and sweet.

“There is nothing that I want to do more right now, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

He contemplated for a moment, and you waited, despite wanting so badly to keep going. Before long though, he nodded, giving you the sign to go ahead.

You freed his cock in second, moving quickly out of need. It was nice for both of you to finally have all of your clothes discarded, and he was a sight to see. Bucky Barnes was modeled like a Greek god, and you couldn’t keep your hands off of him.

You tried your best not to rush things, giving his cock a few soft pumps and kitten licks before taking it into your mouth. He was trying not to groan just as hard as you had been as you bobbed your head, sucking desperately. He was big enough that you had a hard time fitting him all the way into your mouth, so you added a hand at the bottom to pump as well.

He started to buck into your mouth as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. It was like a work of art to watch him writhe in pleasure as you sucked him deeper and deeper into your mouth, until you were gagging on his cock. His abs were starting to flex a bit on their own, and you could tell that he was getting close. And you pulled away.

“Fuck, that isn’t fair,” he groaned, trying his best to quiet his voice. But he couldn’t complain about the view as you pulled away, a string of saliva running from the tip of his cock to your perfect lips.

“Do something about it then,” you said, feeling bolder than you had expected yourself to be. And he took your invitation to heart.

You had been expecting it, but the feeling of his naked body looming over you, his eyes trained on you as his cock began rubbing against your entrance, was a kind of euphoria that you had never imagined. His lips were on yours in an instant, muffling your moans as he slowly pushed into you, filling you up completely. You couldn’t help yourself as you scratched down his perfect back, leaving large claw marks down the muscles of his back.

You threw your head back as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock already found the spot that made your eyes roll back into your head. It felt as though he was made for you, the way he felt so perfect inside of you.

He started to move slowly, thrusting softly as though he was scared to break you. Even then, he hit all of the right spots, but you needed more. You needed him to take you completely. And so you started to move with him, thrusting your own hips up in time with him, pulling him even deeper into you.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck, “Goddamn, doll, you feel amazing. It’s taking everything in me not to fuck you with everything I’ve got.”

“Do it. Please.”

He looked at you surprised, still not fully believing that this was real, let alone that you were here, begging him to let go and ravish you. He searched your face for any sign of doubt, and found none. You wanted him, and that made him feel more worthy of your attention than he had before.

“Bucky, please, I need you,” you whined, and he felt the walls of your cunt tighten around him. And he couldn’t control himself anymore.

His thrusts were hard enough to actually slide you forward on the mat, causing you to wrap your leg around his waist. You were starting to see stars as he continuously pounded into you, hitting the right spots every single time. You couldn’t keep quiet, fucking him was better than anything you had imagined. And so he moved a hand over your mouth to help keep you quiet.

The two of you were a sweaty mess, completely focused on each other’s bodies. You couldn’t think of a single thing besides Bucky. Bucky and his perfect body, and his cock so deep inside of you that you forgot what it felt like to not have him pounding into you. The rest of the world was more than irrelevant, it was forgotten entirely.

“Fuck, babe, I’m so close,” He groaned into your ear, making your eyes roll back into your head again. You were close too. And as his cock hit deep inside of you again, you felt the coil in your stomach snap.

The walls of your pussy fluttered and flexed around his cock as you came undone again. Velvety, warm, and wet, massaging his cock as you screamed into his hand. He couldn’t hold it back. He buried himself in you one last time, rougher than before even, and sprayed hot ropes of cum inside of you, filling you up even more.

You couldn’t remember your own name when he was done. The world around you felt as though it wasn’t real. Everything felt warm and fuzzy, the only cold coming in as Bucky pulled out of you, leaving you empty and exposed to the air. He collapsed onto the ground next to you, pulling you to his chest. You felt his breath heave in time with your own. It was the first time in a long time that either of you felt at peace.

“Well, doll, we really should get cleaned up and get to bed before anyone else wakes up,” Bucky sighed, his voice a bit gruff and unsteady.

You groaned softly and buried yourself into his chest.

“You can stay the rest of the night in my room if you want. But you definitely need to shower,” He added. And you reluctantly agreed.

(A/N: So, this is my first time writing smut... I honestly... got a little too into the sparring idea. Oops.)

[handy-dandy-monster-candy]

Inyez

Rating: NSFW Length: 5331 Pairing: Male Bat Creature x Male Reader (both cis)

xxx

Winter comes early up in the mountains, but I'm used to that. I like to sit by my living room windows and look down into the valley where I work, enjoying the way the city lights give the snow a warm glow. I figure myself lucky; I come from a happy family, I have a good career in a field I love, and I've managed to make a home out of the old observatory that sits like a squat little guardian at the top of a hill twenty minutes from the city.

My job gives me incredibly flexible hours, so I work whenever I'm awake and sleep whenever I want to. I've ended up with a mostly vespertine sleep schedule, which means I get to watch the sunset while I break for lunch. I'm a workaholic, though, so this "break" usually means that I step away from active work and focus on replying to emails from clients or looking up resources and reference images for my latest project as the sun goes down, and this time is no different.

I don't even notice the dark settling around me until I realise that I've been squinting at my laptop for the past half hour, and by then, the only source of light is its screen. I have outdoor lights, sure, and there's a street lamp or two on the way up the hill, but they amount to nothing unless they're on or nearby. I sigh and close my laptop to give my eyes a break, waiting for my vision to adjust properly to the lack of light around me.

I'm just contemplating making myself another cup of coffee when the window beside me explodes, and I have no qualms with admitting that despite being over six feet tall, I scream like a frightened squirrel. Instinct takes over and I find myself taking shelter behind my chair, waiting for the glass to settle before I risk peering around it. Adrenaline has made my vision sharper faster, but there's only so much I can make out in the darkness. I know I heard something heavy hit the floor after the crash, but nothing moves in the shadows, so I take the risk and scuttle over to the nearest switch plate to flick the lights on.

There's blood on what's left of the window and the scattered glass, and wide smears of it left in skid marks across the floorboards. Whatever has bled on my flooring is crumpled halfway behind my couch between me and my kitchen, cutting me off from any makeshift weapons I could use to defend myself. I creep around the other end of the couch with all the exaggerated stealth of a cartoon cat burglar, getting my first real look at the thing. It's dark and huge—about the size of a very large dog, at least—and even as my fingers grope for something to defend myself with, I don't take my eyes off of it for a second.

I approach the wounded creature with a skillet in one hand and a broom in the other, using the broom handle to prod gingerly at the thing that seems to be bleeding out on my living room floor. The first few pokes don't garner any reactions from the beast, and so I grow bolder, sending a silent prayer up to whatever gods might be listening that the thing doesn't have rabies or worse. I feel myself grimace as I lift one large, leathery wing to see more of the creature, only to snatch the broom handle back and away.

Whatever it was was awake, and it had been staring right at me with large, luminous eyes.

It takes me several seconds to work up the courage to repeat the action, and only then do I notice that those eyes are dazed and unfocused, shock settling in as blood dribbles down along its flat face. The creature murmurs when I prod it again—nothing I understand, but definitely something meant to be words—and that's when I realise that the thing on my floor is not a what, but a who. I swear and pace in my kitchen while keeping the thing well within sight at all times, but eventually my conscience wins out; I can't just let them bleed to death in front of me. Even knowing this, I know I don’t have the skills for what I need to do, so I pull an earpiece on and dial my cousin on my cell phone, grimacing when I glance at the time on my oven.

The phone rings a few times before there’s a shuffling on the other end, and then her groggy voice mumbles, “Hello?”

“Hey, Maraia,” I say, taking my first aid kit from beneath my sink and slipping a chef’s knife into my belt just in case. “I need your help.”

“Cuz? Do you know what time it is? I just got to bed an hour ago!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s an emergency.”

I hear more shuffling, and then Maraia’s voice is much more alert. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Some sort of bat crashed through my window,” I say, hurrying over with my first aid kit and kneeling in the blood beside the lump on my floor. “It’s hurt real bad. Blood everywhere. It won’t make it to the vet if I don’t do something now.”

“You’re treating a wild animal?!”

“Maraia. It’s dying!”

“Fuck,” my cousin mutters, slipping back into her role as an ER nurse. “You owe me. Okay, tell me what you see.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, and try to turn off my anxiety as I listen to her expertise. First and foremost, I rush to apply pressure to a particularly ugly wound on the creature’s pelvis and thigh, cleaning and bandaging it up as best as I can once I’ve stopped the majority of the bleeding. This is about when I bump into the creature's, er, fiddly bits, barely hidden by a thick patch of fur. I work around them as I wrap him up in long bandages.

Per Maraia’s guidance, I check the creature's eyes and find wide, fixed pupils that indicate significant head trauma; it doesn't seem like he can see me, or even sense that I'm here. Still, I speak softly to him as I work, carefully picking glass and small twigs from open wounds and doing my best to clean and close them with a combination of butterfly closures and careful stitches. He whimpers and whines very softly when the discomfort is too great, but for the most part he hardly makes any sound at all, which Maraia and I agree is more worrying than if the creature were screeching and struggling with all his might.

Finally, after what feels like hours, I sit back on my legs with a sigh, certain that I’ve gotten to every wound that there is to be found. “I don’t think I can move it,” I say to Maraia, wiping my shaking hands clean with antibacterial wipes. “Not without popping something open.”

“You can’t keep it there with you,” she replies, using the same stern, reasonable tone that she uses on her children and patients. “Bats have rabies. What if it bites you?”

“I don’t think it can. I don’t even know if it will survive the night. For all I know, it’s haemorrhaging somewhere and this will all be for nothing.”

“All the more reason for you to take it to a vet! They can treat it there, maybe put it down if they have to. Whatever they decide will be better than what you can do at home.”

“I know,” I murmur, packing away my supplies. “Thanks, Raia. I’ll take care of it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Maraia sighs, and I can hear her exhaustion creeping back into her voice when she says, “Alright. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. Sorry for waking you.”

“Oh, bull,” Maraia scoffs. “You were scared and came to me. That’s a good thing. Love you, kiddo.”

I can’t help but smile, despite my weariness. “Love you, too,” I say, and hang up once we’ve said our goodbyes. It would be cruel to leave this poor creature on my living room floor, so I haul my inflatable mattress out of storage and set it up in my bedroom, grateful for the large amount of floor space in the converted observatory. I check on my guest several times during the time it takes the bed to inflate, and then I carry him into my bedroom, careful not to jostle him too much when I place him on the air mattress.

I watch the shallow rise and fall of the creature’s chest for a moment before I look up into his elongated face, taking in his small, black, dog-like nose and the sharp teeth that I can see peeking out from behind parted lips. Two large, velvety ears poke up from the thick fur on his head, motionless in his unconsciousness.

From what I can tell, whatever this creature is appears to be around four feet tall, with long curled toes on each slender, delicate foot and sharp claws on the tips of his hairless fingers. He's barrel-chested from the musculature needed to support both arms and wings, with a slightly narrower waist and wide hips that lead to lithe, muscular legs. The majority of his body is covered in a short, dense layer of dark russet fur over deep brown skin, perhaps a shade or two darker than mine.

Whatever he is, I've read enough books and watched enough movies to know with certainty that I can't take him anywhere—not without possibly endangering him further. The last thing I want is this creature ending up dissected in a lab somewhere, or worse. I scrub my hands over my face and get up to go clean my living room, taking one last glance at the creature in my bedroom before closing the door behind me as quietly as I can.

The first night is harrowing. Batty—as I've taken to calling my guest in my head—has his first of three seizures shortly after I finish taping garbage bags over the hole in my window. I drop the duct tape and run to him when he lets out an unearthly wail, all of the air in his lungs being forced out by seizing muscles. There's nothing I can do but make sure that he doesn't hurt himself further, sitting vigil beside him until his convulsions die down and praying that he'll still draw breath when they're over.

He's unconscious for the entirety of the next day, so thoroughly insensate that I risk calling out a repairman to replace the broken window so that the cold stops seeping in. Other than supervising the appointment, I hardly dare to leave Batty's side, taking my laptop into my bedroom to do as much work there as I possibly can. I clean him up when he messes himself in his sleep, though I worry about him dying of dehydration. To prevent this, I pulse ice cubes in my blender and carefully feed him ice chips at first, being mindful of his body temperature by keeping him thoroughly bundled in blankets.

By the third day, Batty makes as if to swallow, and I drip water into his mouth in an effort to keep him hydrated. I don't know what he eats, so I climb into my car and make the drive into the city, buying a variety of potted baby foods with what I'm sure is a wild look in my eyes that keeps the cashier from attempting any small talk with me. I make it back to the observatory in record time, and though Batty doesn't stir when I waft different foods under his nose, I still manage to coax him into swallowing mixtures of meat and vegetables.

He runs a temperature that night, and I spend most of the early morning hours before dawn wiping him down with a cool cloth and stroking my fingers along his brow when he starts to shiver and mumble in his sleep. His fever finally breaks the following afternoon, and in the fading light of sunset, his eyes crack open. He's still exhausted and disoriented, though, so he only blinks sluggishly at me when I ask him gentle questions, eventually fading back into unconsciousness again. I figure it's progress.

Batty recovers slowly. For a long time, I only hear his voice when he mumbles in his sleep or when he whimpers as I tend to his wounds. Eventually, he begins to communicate with me using little humming noises, or he summons me from other parts of the house with plaintive chirps that break my heart. I carry him into the bathroom and find that he's fascinated by the toilet after startling at the sound of the first flush, though that's nothing compared to his awe when I decide to show off the shower. He's visibly disappointed when I deny his peeping requests to be carried under its spray, but he seems to understand when I explain that we should wait for his stitches to come out.

He gets a little stronger every day. After a couple of weeks, he's able to sit up for short periods of time as long as he's propped up with pillows. He holds his water bottle by himself a few days after that. Eating still takes more coordination than he's capable of, at least when it comes to utensils, but he's happy enough to nibble at the fruits I cut up for him. I take him out to the living room with me when he’s well enough, and there I play nature documentaries for him and keep him warm as the snow falls outside. He stares at the television in reverent silence when the voice of David Attenborough warbles through my speakers, and he spends the majority of the day curled around a couch cushion in a nest of blankets.

I learn that he’s as omnivorous as I’d hoped he’d be, and so I go to the store and get him a few different meats. I cook them with little to no seasoning at first, feeding him like one would a dog, but it isn’t long before he begins showing interest in my own meals, too. This urges me to start buying healthier food for myself; I figure that if I wouldn’t feed it to Batty for fear of his health, I probably shouldn’t be eating it, either. That doesn’t stop me from indulging in the odd treat, and his face when he tastes my favourite soft drink is priceless before he spits it out in shock, smacking his lips and looking at the bottle as though it’s bitten him.

“What?” I chuckle, taking the bottle from his hands and offering him a cloth. “Don’t like the fizz?”

“‘Fizz’?” Batty echoes, and I nearly drop the bottle before I can get the cap on.

“You can talk?” I ask, and I feel my eyes widen when he nods. “All this time?”

Batty hesitantly shakes his head, claws gently scratching at the cloth on his lap. “Don’t know,” he slowly replies, brows furrowing over his big, dark eyes. “I remember some. It’s hard.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, reaching out to stroke between his ears in a way I’ve learned soothes him. “You took a bad blow to the head. I’m sorry that I couldn’t take you to someone who could treat you better. I didn’t want someone bad getting their hands on you.”

Batty nods his understanding, sighing deeply and nosing up into my palm to guide my hand along his muzzle. “Wanted to say all this time,” he murmurs, his soft, fluting voice growing weaker. “Thank you.”

I smile; my heart warms. “I’m just glad that you’re okay. I’ll take care of you for as long as it takes. Do you have a name?”

He frowns again, briefly closing his eyes. “Inyez.”

“Inyez,” I murmur, testing the name in my mouth and finding it fitting. I introduce myself in turn.

Inyez’s face relaxes into a small, sleepy smile. He echoes my name, and doesn’t resist when I tuck him back under the covers.

“Rest,” I whisper, brushing my fingertips between Inyez’s eyes. They flutter closed and don’t open again as he lets exhaustion pull him under, and I turn down the lights to let him fall asleep to the sound of whale song.

Once I know that Inyez can speak with me, I go a little bonkers with the need to provide enrichment for my guest. It’s been a while since I’ve had the company with which to play games, so I’m at once overwhelmed and exhilarated when I stand in front of the tabletop game section of the city mall’s toy store. I grab classics like Jenga and Parcheesi, but I also pick up games like Tokaido, Wingspan, and Betrayal at House on the Hill. Inyez fawns over the beautiful illustrations and pretty trinkets needed to play each of the games, and he’s held rapt by the game mechanics and advancements.

I can’t help but mirror his delighted smiles, watching him delicately place tokens on the boards with his slender fingers. The furrow in his brow as he puts together jigsaw puzzles is incredibly endearing, and he’s quick to summon me from where I’m working to show me his accomplishments. “Come!” he cries. “Hurry, come see!” My name on his tongue is the sweetest sound to my ears, and I look forward to hearing it in that cheerful tone throughout the day.

I buy an extension for the desk in my office and give Inyez his own space while I work, though more often than not, he ends up watching my monitors at my elbow, marveling at my work and asking countless questions. At his urging, I show him my digital portfolio, where I have most of my character designs, logos, and even a few structural blueprints and landscapes.

“Where is this?” he asks, hardly daring to tap my monitor screen with a claw.

“Nowhere,” I say, enlarging the image so that he can drink in the details. “Nowhere real, anyway. It’s a fantasy world.”

Inyez frowns. “A fantasy world? But it looks so real.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I specialise in realism. There’s a lot of research that goes into it.”

Inyez doesn’t look entirely mollified by this response, but he subsides for the most part, only murmuring, “You even got the horns right.”

I turn my head to look down at him where he’s resting his cheek against my arm. “The dragon’s?”

“Yes.”

I can’t hold back my surprise. “There are dragons? They’re real?”

Inyez looks up at me, and I briefly get lost in his eyes. “Of course they are. They’re rare, though. Rarer than most everything else.”

“Rarer than you?”

Inyez bares his tiny sharp teeth at me in a cheeky little grin. “No. I’m one of a kind.”

I laugh, helplessly charmed. “That you are. Maybe I’ll draw you sometime.”

Inyez’s mouth drops open, eyes growing wider until I can just about see the whites. “Would you really? Me?”

“Why not?” I pull up a new canvas on my illustration programme, sketching up a quick little scene from the memory of looking down into his upturned face. He gasps softly at my side and shifts to cling to my shirt, murmuring in his strange language and making soft little cooing noises as I add colour and detail.

“Do I really look like that?” he breathes, looking from my face to the screen and back.

“Mhm.” I zoom in on the eyes, adding depth and highlights before moving to adjust the shape and fullness of the lips. Inyez goes very quiet for a few minutes as he watches the portrait come to life, only stirring to place his hand at the crook of my elbow to call my attention back to him. “What is it?”

“Do you really think I am so lovely?” asks Inyez, voice very soft and gaze shy.

I’m grateful for my dark skin as I feel warmth creep up into my face. “I do. You’re very beautiful.”

Inyez scoffs, but I can tell that he’s flustered. “You’ve only met one of us. Who are you to say that?”

“Sometimes one is enough,” I murmur, gently stroking Inyez’s small chin with a crooked finger. He makes an odd little twittering noise and hides behind his wings, and I feel my heart flutter wildly in my chest. I'm falling for this creature, I realise, and I can't bring myself to care; as far as I'm concerned, Inyez is the best thing to happen to me in a long time.

“Where do you go when you get into that terrible thing?” Inyez murmurs some nights later when we’re cuddled on the couch, his head on a pillow in my lap and my fingers gently stroking his head.

“In the car? To the city, mostly. To get food and toilet paper and other supplies.”

Inyez shifts to look up at me, confused. “You get food in that noisy place?”

I nod, brushing my hand along his cheek. “Everything we’ve eaten here, I’ve bought there.”

“But it doesn’t smell.”

“Smell?”

“The city. It smells, but the food doesn’t.”

I feel myself frown in thought. “Probably because a lot of it is washed and kept in clean places, or in airtight packaging.”

“I smell,” Inyez mumbles unhappily, tucking himself up in his wings. “When may I wash?”

I hum thoughtfully, rubbing one of his velvety ears between my fingers in a way that he likes. “Probably tonight, if we’re careful. If you really feel that bad.”

“I do.” Big, dark eyes look up from my lap, beseeching. “I don’t want to smell anymore. I want to be clean.”

“Alright,” I say, shifting to gather him up in my arms and carry him to the bathroom. “As long as we don’t scrub too hard or get your wounds too wet. I’ll still need to clean and redress them after we’re done.”

“You’ll wash me?” asks Inyez, a note of excitement in his voice. “Like lovers do! Could we be lovers?”

I can’t help but laugh, startled at the sudden change in conversation; I distract myself by fiddling with the shower controls. “We could be,” I reasonably reply, “if we both felt the same about one another.”

“Then we can,” says Inyez as he slips under the spray, cooing softly at the water’s warmth. “You think I’m lovely, and I think you’re lovely, too. It’s really that simple.”

“Is it?” I ask, dubious, even as I pull my clothing off and over my head to join him.

“Why does it have to be complicated? Is it more for humans? Is it not enough to feel safe and happy and goodness when I look at you? It’s like my heart has bitten a big, juicy apricot—it’s full of sweetness and the juice is overflowing!”

“A heart-apricot?” I chuckle, shaking my head at the silliness of the comparison. “Well, I’ll try to find you an apricot next time I’m in town.”

“Would you?” asks Inyez, burrowing against my chest and sighing. “I’d like that. I like you. Can that be enough?”

I run my hands carefully between his wings, earning myself a sleepy little burble. “I think it can.” I curb my enthusiastic reaction to this new turn of events and focus on gently cleaning Inyez’s fur to his satisfaction, and then I blow dry him until he’s warm and redress his wounds. By the time I carry him to bed—my bed, our bed—he’s limp as a noodle and snoring softly in his exhaustion, and I take great pleasure in tucking him in so that he’s safe and sound.

The next morning, I am kissed awake. That night, we kiss until we drift to sleep. Kisses and affection make up the bulk of my ‘duties’ as Inyez’s lover, and I take to the task of keeping him satisfied with relish. For his part, Inyez is content to groom me seemingly at random, running his small, clawed fingers delicately through my hair and humming to himself as he does so. I get a little less work done, but I don’t mind it if it’s to see Inyez so pleased with himself when he’s decided I’m primped to perfection.

It’s another couple of days before I give Inyez the all-clear to fly after his injuries have healed for a couple of months. We have to wait until nightfall until he takes to the air, but then he’s a dark blur against a darkening sky until I cannot see him at all. It makes me breathless when I realise that he’s lost to the night—what if, I think, he decides right then that he prefers the night and its freedoms to me? What if he misses his family, his friends, his former life. When he lands in front of me, panting and exhilarated and beautiful, I wrap him into my arms and crush him to my chest, burying my face against the side of his neck.

“What’s happened?” he asks, petting fretfully at my face and hair. “What’s wrong? Did you think I’d not come back?”

“Yes,” I say, and the word chokes me, making me realise that I’m crying.

“Oh, sweet one,” Inyez coos, wrapping me in his wings as best as he can. “I would never. Why would I? I am fed and loved and pampered, and you are a very good snuggler. You don’t even have fur, but you are very warm! Why would I leave, mm? Tell me.”

“I don’t know.” I laugh damply. “Missing your family. Your friends.”

“I’ll visit my family when my body is stronger,” Inyez tells me, tutting softly and nosing at my ear. “They deserve to know where I am, and they can come and visit us when the spring comes. They’ll be jealous of my roost and my mate.”

“Am I that?” I ask, sniffling and pulling away to look down into Inyez’s eyes. Inyez turns his face away, however, and I recognise that he is shy.

“You could be,” he murmurs, “but it’s not official yet. To do that, we have to—well, have sex. Hopefully more than once.”

“Do you want to?” I ask him, stroking between his wings so that they relax and rustle softly.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” Inyez says all in a gust, looking up at me plaintively. “I’ve been wanting to have sex with you for days. Weeks, maybe.”

I can’t help but laugh again. “You could have asked.”

“I could have.” Inyez pouts. “You would have said no, because of my wounds. You treat me like I’m fragile.”

“You are fragile, in comparison. But you’re right, I would have denied you. Now I won’t. So, ask.”

Big eyes blink up at me from that small, furry face, hopeful to their core. “Really? You’ll be my mate?”

I can feel myself grinning. “I’ll be your mate.”

Inyez wriggles against me, clutching at my clothing with a sudden fervour. “Mine?”

“Yours,” I assure him, drawing him against me and carrying him back up into the observatory. The next few minutes are a blur as we leave my clothing strewn across the apartment in a trail that leads to the bed, and I manage to find a bottle of lube I haven’t touched in months but mercifully has enough for at least a round or two.

Preparation happens before all else. Normally, this is the part where I would begin to lose interest because my previous partners have treated it like a means to an end, but Inyez is so sensitive and receptive that every little touch I give him sends him into a fluttering little tizzy on the bed. His prick is slick and red when it hardens out of its sheath, tapered at the end and thicker at the base. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I play with it with a careful touch that seems to frustrate and overwhelm the small creature beneath me in equal measure.

I drink Inyez in as he squeaks and squirms with my fingers inside him, watching his claws tear tiny little holes in the sheets as he grips them in his hands and trembles like a taut bowstring. When I finally push into him, he makes a noise like an exultation, and I fight to keep myself from coming right there and then when he wraps his legs around my hips and digs his feet into my ass to drive me in deeper. He wants more of me and I give until there’s nothing left to give, letting him adjust for a moment before I take up a rhythm that rocks the bed against the wall.

I need him, too, and I tell him so as I fuck him down into the mattress, listening to him mew and moan and say my name in a way more beautiful than any I’ve heard yet. He clings to the headboard when I roll him over onto his stomach, breathless and gasping raggedly, wings trembling like they’re weathering a storm.

“There!” he cries when I angle my hips a certain way, one of his hands diving between himself and the sheets to pump away at his hard, leaking cock. “Oh, please, there! There!”

“You want it?” I ask, and I hardly recognise my own voice, so low and guttural it is.

“Yes, gods, I want it,” Inyez mewns, almost sobbing with his need. “I’m close. I’m gonna—I’m—Please—“

“Tell me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay!” Inyez squeaks, not a hint of hesitation in his desperate tones. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay, I’ll never leave this roost! I swear!”

“Yes,” I growl, pushing my chest down against his back and reaching a crescendo that makes the headboard hammer against the wall. I come so hard and so suddenly that it feels like I get pulled inside out from the toes on up, and my vision whites out to the sound of Inyez wailing beneath me. When I come around, we’re tangled together in the sheets and I have him on top of me, both of us panting heavily and both of my hands buried into the soft, downy fur at the small of Inyez’s back.

“Christ,” says Inyez, and I choke on a laugh, turning my head to cough.

“That’s not an expletive.”

Inyez grunts. “You use it like one.”

I laugh. “That’s fair.”

Inyez takes a long moment to gather his thoughts, stroking the skin of my torso with careful fingers. “Would you be willing to meet my family?”

I blink up at the ceiling. “Of course. How many of them are there?”

“I have six brothers and eight sisters. I’m fifth down in the birthing line.”

My eyes bulge. “How old is the youngest?”

“Tiisa? She’s six months old. The oldest is in her forties.” I can feel Inyez smother a smile against my chest. “Mother says she’s done for now. We don’t quite believe her.”

I laugh, shaking my head up at the ceiling. “I would offer them shelter for the winter, but I don’t think they’d all fit in here.”

“Oh, Mother would hate it here,” Inyez chuckles. “It would be much too quiet for her liking. She likes life with the roost. I’ve always preferred quiet. This roost is perfect for us.”

Us. The word makes my heart swell, and I bury a smile against the top of Inyez’s head. “We’ll figure something out for their visit.”

“Mm,” hums Inyez, sighing softly before he sits up and smiles impishly down at me in the darkness.

“What?”

“Again.”

“Again?” I laugh, wrapping my hands around Inyez’s hips as they begin to rock and wriggle on my lap. “I’ve created a monster.”

“Your monster,” Inyez smugly coos, kissing my chest right over my heart.

[crybabykiko]

hi honeyyy can i have nsfw a-z alphabet for tsukishima please 👉👈? thank you 💞

I’ve had this in my inbox for like a month I am SORRY.

*deep inhale* TSUKKI FUCKERS RUN IN HERE AND GET Y’ALL JUICE

NSFW Alphabet: Tsukishima Kei

Gn!reader focused

Nsfw under the cut but you knew that...

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

I actually feel like he’s not too big on this part. He will 100% do what he needs to make you feel comfortable if he’s been particularly hard on you, but he will do the bare minimum, simply because he’s not the best at being very soft. It’s just not him. I feel like he actually would prefer to be alone and recollect himself rather than cuddle and do pillow talk. That doesn’t mean that he won’t if you need it, he most definitely will because he knows how important it is. Just don’t expect to be babied.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

FINGERS FINGERS FINGERS I WILL NOT STOP SCREAMING ABOUT THEM! They’re long and slender- they always fit perfectly inside or around your neck or in your mouth and just... yes. Yes to his fingers.

For him, it’s all about the eyes. He loves looking at your eyes and the various emotions they convey to him, be it adoration, panic, arousal, devotion… he loves looking directly into your pretty eyes as he takes you.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

In your mouth. I can’t explain why I’m right but I’m right. I don’t think he’s a fan of mess per-se, but from time to time he will want to cum on your face/chest for a lil ✨humiliation✨. I’m also positive he drinks water so when he tells you to swallow it won’t be radioactive or thick like tar. Good job to him for that. (God the bar is on the mf floor)

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

You caught him jacking off one time and he actually makes the prettiest noises- he’s usually pretty quiet with you but by himself it’s actually symphonic how desperate he sounds. He doesn’t know you saw him, but now you ONLY think about how his name spilled out of your lips each time you touch yourself too.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Has much more experience in theory than in practice. He’s VERY knowledgeable about topics primarily based on his own research. He can implement just about anything to your liking though, which is the real reason he’s a great fuck. He’s adaptable without sacrificing too much of his own pleasure.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

This can go one of two ways imo- If he’s feeling lazy, he’ll sit in a chair and have you ride him. If he’s actually putting in work, he’ll hold one of your legs up/back (never both bc it’d probably kill you) or he’ll flip you into doggy, but he’ll make sure you keep your arch as low as possible, so you’re almost parallel to the mattress.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Lmfao no.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

He’s very well groomed as well. His hair is darker than his blonde locks, but he prefers keeping it short and neat. Not completely shaven, but trimmed on a schedule tbh. Also never smells like ball sweat.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

You would think a super sadist like Tsukishima doesn’t do the romantic gestures, but he does little things like making sure you’re stable and secure when he’s holding you up, or giving some VERY light praise when you take him well- you have to put attention or you’ll miss them.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

Tries his best to act like he doesn’t- but he does fairly often. Probably once a week tbh. He makes sure that he’s completely alone tho, because he’s very vulnerable and loud… also aggressive? It’s just a complete 180 from what he’s like with you and he doesn’t want you to know that. But he whines and whimpers the entire time, cumming in his fist and laying there convulsing.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Sadism is the overall mf flavor. But we knew that. Let’s delve a little deeper:

Impact Play, yes very much. Likes spanking as a punishment, but will also slap you in the face from time to time, especially if you’re not answering him or being loud enough to his liking.

Temperature Play, prefers using heat over cold, so he would definitely be into wax. Also turns on the heat in your room when you’re fucking like it’s hot yoga or some shit.

Degradation/Humiliation, has you make messes on purpose, just so he can tease you about it later. Calls you mean names the entire time- but they’re peppered with the tiniest praises, he will follow pretty with cockslut, and such. Will ALWAYS refer to you as his “messy little bitch” without fail. It’s his go-to. Also a fan of “fucktoy” and “pathetic cocksleeve”

Auralism, specifically likes when your moans are choked out sobs, or when you work your voice so raw that it gets scratchy and hoarse. Likes to hear you in general, and will always ask you for a response. Also talks you through your orgasms with little things like “that’s it” and “keep cumming”

Dacryphilia, oh god he loves to see you cry. That’s the one thing that can make him cum almost immediately.

He also HATES a bratty sub. Needs someone who is very obedient. Likes to be called Sir.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Literally ONLY in private. He’s all about control and knows that he can assert that control in every way possible in the bedroom. And even though he gets off on humiliation, it’s only when he’s the one doing it- proving he owns you without the threat of lingering eyes.

Would be the type to totally soundproof a room in your house tho, if you’re picking up why I’m putting down. Has gotten several “home improvement” project ideas from kinktok.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

His goal is to break you. No matter how many times he’s done it before, he always wants to see that perfectly fucked out glassy sheen coat your eyes as they’re filled to the brim with tears- and complete devotuon and total submission to him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝕺!

He is never going to submit to you. It’s just not going to happen. Give it up, deelishis.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Is not the biggest fan of going down on you, prefers using his fingers/other toys. But he LOVES facefucking you. Especially if he can make you cry with how much his cock is bruising your throat.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s mostly even. Mostly. He definitely will edge as a punishment, snapping his hips into you violently, only to stop completely just when your eyes start to roll back. He definitely likes to maintain control of his own orgasm though so he likes to keep a nice even pace if you’re not being a brat.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

Wont outright fuck you in public but would use remote controlled toys on you. He prefers taking his time with you, building you up super slowly so that he can knock you the fuck down in an instant.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

If you think you can try him, no you can’t. He will shut it down IMMEDIATELY. Again, he’s not one for super public scenes, so he’s good at keeping a poker face whenever you decide to get bold… but you have to be prepared because your punishment is either going to be super harsh or nothing at all- and I honestly can’t tell you which is worse when it comes to him.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

It depends on how he’s feeling. If you’ve been good he’ll get right to the point but if you’ve been disobeying him then be prepared to have your sessions drawn out. He can go on edging you for hours and not feel a single thing. He can still last a relatively long time if he’s actually fucking you as well, a good 45-an hour before he even thinks about cumming. And that’s just thinking about it. He can still go a bit longer after the fact. He won’t cum until you’ve cum at least 2-3 times if he’s being nice.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He has a few toys that he likes to use as punishment, primarily small vibrators that he can put inside of you to have you coming undone before he even touches you. When he finally does, you're a wet, whining mess and all he has to say is that you’re pathetic for not being able to even wait for him to touch you.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

Hates being teased. Don’t even try or think about trying it. Doesn’t necessarily tease you either, at least not TOO much. Will edge you to hell and back though.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of hearing how pretty he truly sounds, so a lot of his moans come out as long sighs and deep grunts that he catches in the back of his throat. And that’s only when he’s close.

He does talk a lot though, and is vocal in that sense- you’ll hear a lot of commands from him. You have to ask him for permission to cum, so there’s a lot of call and response when it comes to your sessions.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

He has this fantasy where he’s essentially his partner’s sex toy master and you’re the toy, He would use remote-control vibrators to make you come throughout the day. You don’t get a say in when you come, it’s just whenever he wants. In front of your boss, on the train, when you're trying to go shopping, whenever. It’s equal parts humiliating and sexy for you both, because you can’t stop orgasming. You’re completely at his mercy.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s a good size, a solid 6.5-7 with a decent girth. More of a shower than a grower and actually has a fairly pretty dick. Fair but even in color, suuuuper pretty and pink at the head.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Even though he’s about exerting complete control, and also the type to never let on that he’s needy, he is. His sex drive is slightly higher than yours... But you’d never know. He’s just that good at 1) covering it up, and 2) flipping the script to always make you seem like cockhungry one... asshole

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

No sleeping. Tbh I feel like he’s one of those people who actually gets a burst of energy after. But he’s not sleeping at all. He’s just gonna go back to his headphones or some quiet activities until you wake up.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @super-noya @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @makemealive @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

[harryspet]

a long way down [4] b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] dark bucky x reader, dark steve x reader, violence, death, heavy angst, zombies, the walking dead au, mom!reader, sexual assault, blackmail consensual sex, breeding kink, slice of life, little editing

A/N: I fucked up my sleeping schedule again writing this but enjoy the final chapter :))))

In which you’re pushed to your limits.

series masterlist

word count: 4.2k

W I N T E R

Fighting was a dance.

Perfectly choreographed, you could defeat your partner but you believed luck was still a factor in whether you lived or died. Bucky didn’t believe in luck and he didn’t want you to rely on it. Walkers didn’t fight like humans but training with Bucky was making you stronger. Whether you encountered walkers or other humans, you could handle yourself.

He didn’t show you any mercy as his leg quickly moved behind yours, kicking up and effectively tripping you. You collided with the old mat and winced. You opened your eyes to find Bucky standing over you, his hand held out to you.

“Brush it off,” He told you and you grabbed a hold of his hand, allowing him to help you up.

You stood your ground, a bead of sweat dripping down your brow and you stared back at your opponent. Anyone could see that you were at a disadvantage when comparing yourself to the soldier but Bucky warned you not to underestimate yourself.

When he attacked this time, he went for your neck. You struggled for only a second as his hands tightened around your neck. You brought your arm up, twisting your body, and slamming your arm down over his. As his hands loosened on your neck, you grabbed a hold of them, before slamming your elbow back into his face with a loud grunt.

You were free then and Bucky was gripping his bruised cheek, “Good,” He said, his tone was a bit surprised, “That was good.”

You breathed heavily, your hands on your hip. You had been at it for hours like usual. Ever second Bucky wasn’t working, you were with him. After Peter left six months ago, the two of you had grown much closer. Though his actions were always in the back of your mind, you admired the effort he was putting into your relationship. Besides that, he was getting much better with Margot.

Bucky walked with you to get water. The training room was a makeshift tent that barely kept the cold out but neither of you seemed to mind when you were sweating so much. In fact, the two of you ran every morning around the compound.

After taking a swig of your water, you said, “Can you teach me that move from yesterday? The one where you use your thighs to-”

Bucky was looking past you, clearly not paying attention to you. You raised an eyebrow before turning around. Your eyes widened as you took in the site in front of you. You dropped your bottle, successfully spilling your water, before breaking off into a sprint.

You wrapped your arms around the boy you hadn’t seen for months. The one you feared would never return, “It’s nice to see you too,” Peter chuckled, a hand roaming over your back. You squeezed him tight, noticing how much stronger he felt, and the emergence of stumble along his cheek and neck. When you pulled away, you took another look at you. It was like he’d aged a few years yet that same look of kindness remained.

“I never thought you’d- I ...” You couldn’t find the words as you tried to process it all. All you could do was smile and check to see that he was still in one piece.

“Well I’m real,” You hadn’t noticed who was standing a few feet behind him. You paused as you took in her appearance. The awkward, thin grin across her face and the long, coils of her hair that she was hiding behind, “Y/N, this is MJ.”

“Hi,” She spoke hesitantly. Your cheeks heated a bit as you realized that you were staring. You walked past Peter and held your hand out to her, “Peter told me so much about you.” The way she looked at him tugged at your heart. You could sense what was going on between them and it made you feel elated. Not only was Peter alive, but he had also found his person.

“I want to know everything,” You told them, a wide grin on your face, “Dinner, tonight.”

+

Say you won't leave again.

I won’t leave you ever again, doll.

Bucky’s words always echoed in your mind. Months had passed since he uttered them and you could still wrap your arms around him anytime you wanted. As far as you knew, Bucky was keeping his word this time.

Moments ago, Bucky had pulled you into the bedroom you shared. His hands roamed roughly over your skin, his hands like fire, scorching you with passion. He grabbed your jaw with his hand, turning your head as he roughly kissed at your neck.

You held him tightly, your gaze wandering towards the window where snow was falling in heavy sheets. Although he was in the moment, you quickly fell out of it. Bucky paused as he felt your body stiffen. He finally looked up, resting his hands on the wall as he stared into your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Good things don’t happen without a cost in this world. Peter’s back, he’s alive, but I get this sense that ….” You took a breath, “T-That it’s all going to go wrong again.”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head, “I’m not the world’s authority on thinking positive but, I do know that waiting for the worse is no way to live. He’s here now, why not just appreciate the time you have now?”

You were silent for a moment as you stared into the crystals he called eyes. Bucky was always one for tough love and, although he was still a man of few words, you sensed compassion in his words that you hadn’t noticed before.

You nodded in agreement, “You’re right.”

“Besides,” Bucky shrugged, “The kid basically has a girlfriend now. He’s got another person looking out for him. He’s not alone.”

You pecked Bucky’s lips, “I forgot about words like girlfriend,” You wrapped your arms around his neck and Bucky hands moved down to your waist, “Am I your girlfriend, Buck?”

An amused look crossed his face, “I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you’re mine,” Bucky lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your lips smashed together as he carried you towards the bed. As your back hit the mattress, you were already stripping away your clothes.

You and Bucky had gotten quite good at having quickies. With taking care of Margot, and Steve around barking orders, you had to be able to do it quickly and efficiently. In no time was Bucky pinning your hands above your hand and entering you with a rough thrust.

He moved in and out of you with a power like no other. You swallowed each other's moans as your mouths moved against each other. Warmth spread through your body as he crashed into your body like waves against a rocky shore.

You were completely one and you didn’t believe you could possibly get any closer than you were now. Your world moves slowly which you were grateful for, you were glad to enjoy the moment with him. As you both reached the top of the mountain, you were completely his.

The bed shook with the two of you as Bucky finished on your stomach. Bucky breathed heavily, his long hair falling down messily. You began to kiss again but both of you were startled when the door to your room opened.

“Steve!” You shouted, grabbing your shirt to toss it back over your head. Bucky hurriedly began to pull up his jeans and fasten his belt.

“Jesus fucking christ, Steve,” Bucky cursed as his friend entered the room.

Steve didn’t seem bothered as he looked the two of you over. He only crossed his muscular arms and said. “Your guests are downstairs. You should probably get dinner started, Y/N, and Margaret needs a changing.”

You checked your watch which you always forgot was running five minutes late.

“Get out,” You spoke through gritted teeth and Steve only smirked.

“I’ll be in my room if you two lovebirds need me.”

+

You watched from the kitchen as Peter and MJ played with the small one-year-old in the living room. They were helping her walk across the living room by holding both her little hands. Your little one was very active, especially after her naps, and you found it difficult to keep her in one place at a time.

She was also teething like crazy and the only times you got any peace and quiet was when she was with Steve. The two of you were like divorced parents living in the same house, designating times for the two of you to spend time with her. Any time you didn’t have to spend with Steve was also glorious.

Margot babbled loudly, using the few new words she had learned how to say. She was responding to her own name and saying Mama and Dada. She even said Bucky which sounded more like “uh-ee” on her tongue.

She was also starting to look more like Steve every day.

“Smells good,” Bucky said, reaching into the cabinets to grab plates. You were lucky that Steve got the best food rations which meant your household had the luxury of pasta. You continued to stir the pot of pasta, sauce, and vegetables from the lands the people Liberty farmed.

You only smiled as he started to set the table. Your smile didn’t last long as Steve jogged down the stairs, “Veggie pasta,” Steve clapped his hands together, “My favorite.”

You turned off the stove, watching him take a seat at the head of the table, “I didn’t realize you’d be joining us,” You said, a fake smile on your face. Bucky only continued to set the table. You’d promised him you wouldn’t start any arguments with Steve and simply ignore his attempts to get under your skin.

“It’s my home, isn’t it?” The man didn’t even look you in the eyes.

You rolled your eyes.

“Dinner’s ready!” You announced, using your mittens to carry the pot over to the table. You felt a soothing hand on your back and took a deep breath.

Peter and MJ entered the kitchen, Margot was happily placed in Peter’s arms. It had been months but the little girl seemed to remember her old friend. She fussed when you tried to put her in her own highchair so you let her sit in Peter’s lap.

The six of you sat down for a much quieter meal than you were expecting. You and Bucky sat across from Peter and MJ and for a long while you only ate in silence. The candlelights illuminating the table flickered and all that could be heard was Margot’s babbling as she chewed on her own fingers.

Steve finally cut through the tension.  “I’m not making it awkward, am I?” He asked a thin grin on his lips.

You were silent until Peter spoke up, “Of course not, Captain.”

You hated that Steve could send the boy to his death and Peter still had to keep up the formalities. Steve responded with a heavy, patronizing pat on Peter’s shoulder, “This one,” He gestured to MJ, “Where’d you find her?”

The two teenagers opened their mouths to speak and their eyes met as they realized they had spoken at the same time. Peter smiled awkwardly, signaling her to tell her own story, adoration in his eyes as he looked at her, “I-I had a group for a while. There were only about ten of us and … well, what happens to everyone happened to us. Walkers and raiders picked us off until it was only me. I was alone for a few months before I met Peter.”

“I entered her camp thinking it was abandoned. She thought I was a walker and almost shot my arm off,” Peter bounced the little girl in his lap. He was smiling at a memory that most would consider traumatic.

“Sounds romantic,” Steve chuckled and you noticed something darken in Steve’s eyes, “Well, you’re welcome here in Liberty. Everyone here knows what it’s like to lose family, I hope you find a new one here …. What’s your name again, sweetheart?”

“Michelle … but people call me MJ,” Steve’s mouth pulled into a wider grin and you felt sick to your stomach. You were the only one in the room that seemed to notice the way he was looking at the younger girl, “Thank you, Captain Rogers.”

“I’m sure Y/N will find you a job here. There’s plenty to be done,” Steve finally spared you a second glance but you didn’t maintain eye contact.

You simply faced the girl and smile, “Of course.”

You’d make sure that the job was far away from Steve.

+

“Bucky, be careful!” You shouted but both Margot and Bucky were already speeding away. Bucky had made a sled and was pulling the bundled up baby along the snow-covered sidewalk. By the way, she was screaming, you could she was having fun.

Things were slow around the camp for the last few days. With the thick snow, the walkers had slowed down and you hadn’t seen any packs of them for a while. There wasn’t much use in going out for supplies when trucks could get stuck in the snow so Steve officially declared the holidays could begin.

You remembered being extremely pregnant and extremely miserable last year during this time. Now, you could enjoy Christmas with Bucky and Margot.

You walked along the sidewalk, catching up to them. You wrapped your winter jacket closer to you as a shiver went through you, “See, she loves it,” Bucky grinned, proud of his little invention, “She’s a little daredevil.”

He kneeled down to lift her up and you couldn’t help but notice how good he looked with her. His growing paternal instincts were yet another thing to make you hopelessly attracted to him.

You moved closer, grabbing her little hand in yours, “You’ve been out here for a while, little daredevil,” You spoke softly to her and she continued to babble, “You want Bucky to give you a warm bath? … you do, don’t you?”

Margot was her happy self as usual, “Of course you do,” You noticed Bucky’s voice go up an octave and it made your heart flutter. You didn’t mention it, fearing he’d probably stop if you pointed it out, “Your Mommy just doesn’t put the care and love that I do into it.” You nudged his side playfully.

The three of you walked back towards the house together, “I’m going to ask Steve about us getting our own place. Or at least a place without him in it. I’d live in the barracks at this point.”

“He won’t let you take Margot with us,” Bucky spoke solemnly.

“She’ll just split her time between us,” You shrugged, “Parents did that stuff before all of this. Why can’t we do it now?”

“Because he thinks he owns her.”

Your shoulders slumped as you let out an angry breath of air, “I’m still going to talk to him. If I annoy him enough, maybe he’ll listen.”

The three of you returned back into the warm house. After kicking off your boots and jackets, you left Margot and Bucky downstairs. You climbed the stairs and made your way to Steve's office where you knew he had been all day, barking orders from his luxurious tower.

You knocked on the door, but you did not expect to see the person who answered. Your heart stopped as you realized it was her. “Hi, Y/N. Have you seen Peter?” MJ asked you, an innocence in her eyes that you missed in your own. You couldn’t find the words so you simply shook your head, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Captain Rogers.”

You watched as Steve waved goodbye from behind his desk. The girl brushes past you and you stood, flabbergasted, for a moment. You collected yourself, walking inside the office, before closing the door behind you.

“Where’s Margot?” Was the first thing he uttered and your hands balled into fist as you stared at the cocky man before you.

“What the hell are you doing, Steve?” You squeezed your hands tight, feeling your own blood pumping inside your chest.

“I asked you something-”

“No, no, you don’t get to do that,” You pointed an accusing finger, “Your daughter is fine. I’m asking about the girl that just left your office.”

“I didn’t think she was useful in the infirmary, I wanted to talk to her about making changes,” Steve spoke simply, his hands folding against his desk as he leaned forward.

“But that’s where I assigned her. You told me that I could choose,” You tried to keep your voice calm.

“I was being courteous. I assumed you’d make a good decision but it’s slow in the infirmary and they don’t need any helping hands.”

“What job did you decide on then?” You persisted.

Silence fell as Steve looked you over. He never guessed that you’d care so much about a girl you didn’t know, especially since that girl would be the one to take the heat off of you. Steve sighed, pushing back in his chair and standing up from his chair. As he spoke, he stalked around the desk, “I thought she could help with Margot. I know you and Bucky have wanted to be alone for a while. The Barton’s are willing to welcome you two into their home permanently and, when Margot is here with me, MJ is going to help me take care of her.”

You shook your head, “S-Steve, this … this is fucked up even for you,” You knew exactly what Steve planned to do with MJ and because she wants to belong here with Peter, the girl is going to fall for it, “Why?”

“Doll, it’s not like you’re going to give me a boy anytime soon,” Was his simple, disgusting answer.

“Why do you want this so bad? So bad that you would ruin other people's lives for it?” He moved closer but you stood your ground and your strong gaze did not falter.

“You wouldn’t understand,” The two of you stood toe to toe, Steve staring down at you as his fingers brushed over a loose strand of hair. He gently brushed it behind your ears, “But I am going to make my mark on the new world.”

You scoffed, “You want to be a fucking founding father?” Steve faltered, you watched as he tried to keep his face from turning to anger. You were proud of yourself for pushing the right buttons, “Walking around and making people call you Captain only makes you look like a cult leader, not anyone worth remembering.“

He moved forward, practically bulldozing you until your back was pressed against the wall, “You are nothing. Your life is worth so little that you could not possibly understand,” He spoke with gritted teeth, the veins in his head starting to bulge out, “The only reason I haven’t killed you is because of Buck but now I don’t think you’re even worth that. Do you want that? I wouldn’t have to worry about you yapping in my ear.”

It was then that you realized that you were losing your leverage. As much as you wanted to anger him, this wasn’t the fight that needed to be had, “Fine, it’s your fucking world, Steve. Just find someone else to help you. Haven’t you done enough to Peter?”

His exterior seemed to soften but only a little bit, “It would save you a lot of hurt if you stopped caring so much.”

“Steve,” You stated firmly, “Just leave her alone.”

If you gave me a son, I wouldn’t have to hurt her,” Steve countered, his hand starting to trail down your shoulder and then to your waist, “Break Bucky’s heart but save her, huh?”

Your muscles were tight as his hands roamed over your body but you didn’t fight him. You could do it all over again if that meant that MJ could have the family she wanted and that Peter would have her. Even if it killed you this time, you could do it to protect them.

“O-Okay,” You nodded, tears threatening to sting your eyes, “Not now, please.”

He seemed to ignore you as he pulled you away from the wall, pushing you back towards the desk. You stumbled as your backside pressed against the desk but Steve moved quickly, pushing you down so you were bending over the desk, “Steve!” You wiggled beneath him as he began to yank down your pair of jeans.

“Shut up,” He grunted. You almost sunk into the idea that your movements were futile. You used all the strength you had to push yourself up, slamming your back into his front. He stumbled only to wrap his muscular arms around your front. You continued to struggle and, as he held you tighter, you slammed your foot down on his own.

He was panicking, you could tell and you hoped he’d give up but he only spiraled further. The soldier threw you to the ground and you landed with a thud. Your vision went black for a moment as you felt him climb on top of you. You could hear him telling you to “shut up” as your vision returned.

The room was spinning but you’d never forget what happened after that. Bucky came from nowhere, just like the knife in his hand. There was no argument or fight to witness. There was no wrong or right to be discussed. The knife only entered deep into Steve’s neck and then he was collapsing on top of you.

Bucky kicked his body to the side, grabbing a hold of you as you shook furiously. Steve’s blood was warm and it covered your face and chest, “You’re okay now,” He said to you, wiping your face, “You’re okay now.”

You wanted to feel something when you looked at his lifeless body. You were nothing but numb. He had no compassion for you and you felt none for him. In this new world, there was little room for compassion. After all, this was the long way down.

E P I L O G U E

You had to leave Liberty. You had slain their king and they’d hunt you down, burn you at the stake, and steal back their princess.

When Bucky made that decision, the world you had adjusted to over two years was suddenly gone. But you were not alone. You had Margot. You had Bucky. You even had Peter and MJ. All of you escaped the settlement together, Peter refusing to stay without you, and started your long journey to nowhere.

There was a good chance that your plans would fail and you’d end up as all groups did. You moved east, hoping to escape the harsh winter. First, the gas ran out, and then you were left to hike. Next, the food supply began to run thin after a month on your feet. A screaming, hungry toddler was no friend to walkers.

A saving grace appeared when you were all at your wits’ end. The prison was an oasis in the middle of a desert. With tall barbed wire fences and armed guards, you prayed that it was safe. Your group approached with raised hands of surrender, hoping for sanctuary.

It was risk seeing as how they could steal your supplies and leave you all for dead but it was a risk you were all desperate to take.

“Stop!” A sniper shouted and everyone immediately halted.

A woman with bright red hair appeared behind the gate, rifle in one hand and walkie talkie in the other, “Romanoff here at Gate A, we have non-infected. Four,” The other side was silent as the woman looked us over. Based on her facial expressions, you weren’t hopeful that they had any room for you.

The woman was about to turn around but. with his hands still raised, Bucky began to speak, “We’re only seeking shelter for a short while. We have supplies to trade ...  At least take the women and children,” You looked to Bucky with wide eyes but he continued on, sure of his words, “You wouldn’t leave a toddler out here, would you?”

The woman paused, not bothering to address us. She simply spoke into the walkie talkie again, “Tony, there’s a baby and they look harmless enough.”

You could cut the tension with a knife as you all waited for a response. Finally, the device beeped and you finally received a response to whatever God was sitting in that guard tower, “Pepper’s going to kill me but fine, this is what she gets for all the narcissism lectures. Let them in after you’ve confiscated their weapons and checked for bites. Tell Bruce to have a look at the baby too.”

It wasn’t the light at the end of the tunnel but it was good enough for now. Bucky placed a hand on the small of your back before leading you forward.

+

i’d love to know your thoughts on the ending! thanks for coming on this journey with me :)

[awkwardgtace]

Mira's Visit Home pt.1

This got long, eventually there's mention of some shitty treatment for Mira. Mostly being slapped and verbally belittled. It's not in this part though.

Part 2, Part 3 (Final)

Mira's Visit Home

The storm had been going for a few days and Mira hadn’t left the walls once. Corus tried to help as much as he could, leaving things near the entrances he knew about, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. As much as she’d come to trust him, she couldn’t tell him she was a safe place for anyone from her home in emergencies. Corus would be helpful, she knew that, but no one else would like dealing with a human. It wasn’t as if she was open to it at first either. She sighed as another crash of thunder roared. It was long enough that she felt she should check the door to the yard again. She nearly screamed when she saw a squirrel coming towards her, the cloth wrapped around their neck a sign used by her home.

Mira ran forward, terrified of who she’d find. There must be something awful for anyone to be out in a storm like this. The squirrel seemed to pick up speed once seeing her, and she gasped upon seeing the rider. Black hair, tan skin, and a face she was sure she’d never see again. A squeak escaped her throat as she tried to say their name. It woke the person who’s brown eyes flooded with relief as soon as they met Mira’s. She carefully led the squirrel in through the door, only pulling the rider off once safely out of the storm. She was quick to get them on their feet to get to her home.

“M..Mira,” they wheezed out and she froze.

“Kaya, Kaya what happened?” she asked. Kaya started to shake, Mira hoped it was from the cold rain water. She’d hadn’t seen them scared like this since they were kids. Kaya used all their strength to pull Mira into a tight hug, fully sobbing as they stood there. Mira was careful in guiding them into a sitting position, the hug never letting up.

“Mira, Mira it’s awful,” they said. “Lightning, it hit a branch while I was out on watch. It fell and blocked the entrance. The wood is too thick for any of our tools. There isn’t a good way to make another exit either.”

Kaya stopped explaining, their sobs taking control again. Mira had gone rigid, she knew what this meant. No one could get out, they couldn’t get any supplies. There wasn’t any hope if the branch wasn’t moved. There’s no way any of them would be strong enough to do it without someone getting hurt, but Mira knew someone who could help. She had to take care of Kaya for tonight though.

“Kaya, can you tell me how long it’s been?” she asked. If their rules hadn’t changed they kept enough food stockpiled for about three days in case of danger. The leaders would properly ration it to last even longer if necessary. Kaya sobbed harder before answering and Mira felt hope shattering. She started rubbing Kaya’s back in an attempt to calm them.

Kaya took in a shaky breath, “About two days. They had me wait one day before leaving, to see if they could cut through. Nothing worked and...and with how bad the storm has been it took a day to reach you. Mira what do we do?”

Mira had made up her mind hearing Kaya’s weak voice. Kaya tried her best to appear strong ever since they announced Mira would leave. They shouldn’t sound like this. Mira had been on her own for almost ten years now, the pain and fear now must be worse believing they’d truly be gone forever. Mira tightened her arms around Kaya, they might never forgive her, but Mira wouldn’t abandon their people. Earlier Corus had called out the storm would end sometime in the night, they’d sleep and tomorrow she would act.

“Kaya let’s go to my home, all right? I have an idea to help everyone, but you need to rest first,” Kaya nodded, their trust almost breaking Mira’s heart. Mira tried to stay lighthearted as they walked, just telling Kaya everything will be fine. Kaya. She pulled her blanket from home out of where she stored it and helped Kaya wrap themself up. Mira had a sad smile once their exhaustion won out and they fell asleep.

At home, Mira would always come up with plans for problems, Kaya would follow without a second thought. This was probably the best for them, trusting her blindly for one last night. Tomorrow she’d bring them to a human, they’d be terrified and think she betrayed everyone. Mira didn’t care though, she had to save everyone. They hadn’t abandoned her when she first left and she knew that’s what some people at home wanted. They picked a home that was safe, gave her supplies, and helped her at first so she wasn’t in danger of starving. She’d save them and then she’d never see anyone from home again. Mira let herself relax, slowly falling asleep next to Kaya.

Mira opened her eyes feeling like she’d only just closed them. It wasn’t raining though, just as Corus had promised. She carefully extracted herself from the hug the two wound up in during the night, preparing for the day. She smiled while gathering breakfast and her supplies, they would always wake up like that when they had sleepovers too. She looked at them gathering her courage before waking them up and handing them breakfast. They looked better than the night before and she wished this was just a casual visit.

“Once you’ve eaten we need to go all right?” Mira asked, Kaya nodded. “We need to get some things from the human. Once we’ve gotten it we can move out. I know his schedule better than the guards when we wanted to sneak out to see the stars.”

Mira winked and they laughed. She was glad to see Kaya smiling before she made them hate her. The two ate in silence, a somber mood falling over them as reality set in. Mira stood once they finished, leading them to an entrance she’d made more recently. Corus didn’t know about it so there wouldn’t be anything there. She appreciated how much he tried to help her, although it would cause issues now.

She looked carefully for him, he was usually up early after storms. Mira quickly ran to the table, tossing her hook up easily catching it on the table. Kaya didn’t even hesitate to follow, trusting Mira blindly like always. She pulled the rope a few times to test it, smiling as she remembered when Corus sanded the table down. She shook the memory from her head, she couldn’t be distracted. She handed the rope to Kaya and watched as they climbed up. It felt so natural, the two taking a risk for whatever reason together. Mira was always the look out when they would sneak out as kids. Shaking away those memories as well, Mira climbed up once Kaya was halfway.

Once at the top of the table Kaya moved towards the fruit dish. Corus put it out so Mira could get fruit more easily, and it was a good place to hide if anyone else came in. It was the only thing up here, of course Kaya would assume that’s the goal. Once Mira felt sure Kaya was far enough, she freed the hook and watched it hit the ground. The sound echoed in the quiet room and Kaya’s face filled with fear. They ran to Mira grabbing her with a look of fear, trying to pull her towards the dish. She knew Kaya thought the two were in danger, but this was the best way to make sure they wouldn’t run. Mira was confident, Kaya always had a fear of heights they kept hidden, they wouldn’t run away. Kaya looked at Mira with tear filled eyes. Mira waited a little, before realizing that wasn’t enough sound.

“Corus, come quick I need your help!” she called out as loud as possible. After storms, Corus was always waiting for her to call out. He kept the house quiet so he’d hear her and she knew it. In only a few seconds the thumps of human footsteps started to come closer.

“Kaya I need you to trust me. I know how this looks, but I promise you this will save everyone,” Mira said. The look of betrayal on Kaya’s face made her want to back out.

“I always fucking trusted you and now you’re bringing a human straight to us!” they seethed, but Mira heard the hurt they tried to hide. “What happened to you, you’ve always tried to be there for everyone, why would you do this now when we’re all that’s left?”

“I’m doing this so we aren’t all that’s left, please trust me.”

“Mira!” Corus tried to stay quiet, but the shout slipped out. Mira never asked for his help, this had to be bad. “What’s wrong?”

He froze when he entered the room. When Mira called out he’d had a number of things race through his mind, a lot involved her having fallen while climbing. He never expected another person Mira’s size to be on the table holding Mira like their life depended on it. He moved closer, this person could be a risk to Mira and he would scare them away if needed. She was so careful when talking about her, or others like her, this had to be as serious as he feared.

“Corus something horrible happened, I need you to help us,” she said. He looked toward the other person, confused when Mira stepped forward as if blocking them from view.

“What do you need?” he asked. He’d do anything he could to help her.

“A branch fell at my home. It’s trapped everyone else. I need you to move it. They might be running low on food too. This is the third day they’ve been trapped. Kaya came to me, they were away at the time. We’re all that’s left, please save them.” Mira’s voice cracked and Kaya just stared. Their grip had loosened as Mira talked. Mira had just revealed everything to a human. Kaya glared at the human, their Mira wouldn’t do this. This human had tricked her, he must have.

“All right let me go get my shoes on and a bag so we can bring some food and supplies with us. Kaya, I’m Corus. I'm sure you don’t trust me, but I’ll help and then leave no strings attached.”

He quickly moved away, Kaya flinched as he did. He looked down as he stepped away, noticing the fish hook on the ground. He hadn’t imagined the small sound before she called out to him. Mira had really forced this, well he’d prove he could be trusted to both of them. He moved slowly to pick up the hook on the floor and placed it on the table close to Mira. It might help this other person to feel better when they have an escape again. He left the kitchen after to quickly gather what he needed. Mira grabbed her hook, freeing herself from Kaya’s grip. She walked away, setting the hook at the edge so they could climb down.

“I decided to do this after you got here last night. You had to be here, to see how it went and know what I was doing. I know how this looks, I understand if you leave, but we’ll still be going,” she said.

“Mira, do you really trust this human?” they asked, she nodded. “I guess I’ll have to take the risk. I mean you were the most careful before, you wouldn’t trust one lightly.”

Mira couldn’t hide the smile Kaya’s words brought on. Together they could save their home, but Mira’s plan wasn’t quite as obvious as it seemed. Kaya wouldn’t suffer from Mira’s choices. Mira had realized one time Corus was outside planting, their home was in the woods nearby. She could lead him with or without Kaya. Kaya wasn’t used to being an outcast like Mira, they weren’t going to get caught up in bringing a human home. Corus walked back in with a small bag and the jacket Mira expected. It had a pocket on the inside by the chest, perfect for hiding Kaya if they wouldn’t listen, and Mira on the way back. She wouldn’t want to see his face after this is done she was sure.

Mira quickly listed the food Corus had that would be best to bring. Kaya hesitantly chimed in admitting they’d had some poorer harvests and extra couldn’t hurt. A lot of the things Mira picked out were the things he’d bought just for her. Trail mixes, dried fruits, jerky, some vegetables that lasted better. At the end of it all he’d packed up a lot of food, more than Kaya expected. They thought the human would be less… generous, maybe Mira’s human could be trusted.

“So how are we heading out?” Corus asked. Kaya’s fear returned, they did not want to be in those hands. They didn’t trust he wouldn’t just grab them either.

“Go to the back of the house and we'll meet you there,” Mira told him. He nodded and walked away. Kaya was shocked that he didn’t argue, Mira had really had a human listen to her. The two quickly returned to the walls taking the same path through Mira’s home to grab Kaya’s things. They were walking to the door their squirrel had stayed by when Kaya gave up staying quiet.

“I can’t believe you actually managed to control a human like this.” Kaya said.

“Excuse me?” Mira had stopped. They turned to look at her, a little shocked how she was reacting.

“You’re doing something to get him to do all this right? Did you convince him you were a fairy from those old stories? Oh or did you mistake you for something else and-”

“SHUT UP!” Mira yelled, they stepped back.

“Wha-”

“Look I know that I had a reputation at home because of Elder Collin, but I didn’t do anything. Just like back then, I don’t have any special powers or skills to control people. Corus is just a kind person and he just likes to be helpful..”

Mira started to walk again. She thought back to the guilt he’d had about almost hurting her before they met. A habit of the day, she shook the thoughts away. She wasn’t going to entertain this, they had more important matters for her to focus on. Kaya trailed behind, Mira had never gotten mad at them like that before. They couldn’t even remember a time they’d heard her yell because she was angry. Corus must be amazing for her to get so upset at the idea of controlling him, she didn’t even get this mad during the years they prepped for her leaving. They were outside before Kaya could even try to say anything else, Mira leading the squirrel out carefully. Corus was standing near their entrance, making Kaya a little nervous.

Corus saw them and faster than either could react scooped up them and Kaya’s squirrel. Kaya couldn’t help but start panicking trying desperately to get out, Mira seeming shocked, but calm. That’s when they heard splashes coming towards them. The two shared a scared look, another human might have seen them.

“Corus dear, what are you doing out here?” a high pitched voice rang out. Mira couldn’t help flinching, this was the nosy neighbor. Mira couldn’t stand them, they’d told him to get mouse traps when he first moved in and nearly broke her leg with a flower pot.

“Oh Mrs. Adam just about to take a squirrel that had been hiding inside during the storm back to the woods,” he answered. Mira knew Corus was just hiding them. Kaya was stunned, he wasn’t just being cruel.

“Oh dear, I warned you to get mouse traps. Your grandparents had complained about hearing something in the walls a few times. I knew there were things getting inside. You could also get ferrets like I did, they work wonders to keep things out.”

Corus gave a fake laugh, “I told you in the beginning I would much rather let whatever it is go than risk it getting hurt.”

“You’re a braver soul than I am. I would have just called animal control when I found that thing. Plus going to the woods, you know all the superstitions about that place. It’s always better to leave it be as I say.”

“This squirrel isn’t a thing, ma’am and I should really be going. Stay dry,” Corus immediately stalked off. He kept his focus on his hands to avoid holding them too tightly. The new habit he’d picked up since meeting Mira would only hurt them right now. This neighbor always made him angry, didn’t actually care about any ‘issues’ he may have, she just didn’t want them at her home. He wouldn’t lie that he harbored a little hate since she had trapped Mira in the flower pot, she could have been hurt pretty badly. He knew this was terrifying to Kaya, but he wouldn’t risk his neighbor seeing them.

[amillionsmiles]

in your bedroom after the war (Dick/Artemis)

Title: in your bedroom after the war Summary: As far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could be doing worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass. / Post-Invasion, pre-Outsiders. Rated M.  A/N: I have one (1) agenda and that is messy grieving fuck buddies who are each other’s ride-or-dies. if you are not into fic that sits squarely in sad feral horny territory, then this is probably not your speed.

[Read and review here] or continue under the cut.  

| GOTHAM

| JANUARY 14, 2017; 12:05 AM EST

Artemis is a bit heavier than she was in her teenage years, but her feet land lightly on the fire escape by the window. An hour ago, she’d called her mom from Metropolis, promising she’d be home by midnight. Ever since her daughter faked her death a year ago, Paula Nguyen has become even more of a worrywart, and Artemis knows that the five minutes she’s running late are going to cause her to receive an earful.

“Didn’t think I’d see you back in this neck of the woods.” A familiar figure drops from the roof above onto the rung below her.

“Nightwing.”

She’s not surprised that he’s been keeping tabs. Officially, he’s been on a leave of absence for the past six months, but Dick, like her, is vigilant in his grief.

She’d come back to Gotham because it put her closer to Metropolis and Beta Squad’s continued investigation of LexCorp, but the truth is that she could have Zeta-tubed from Palo Alto easily. Their—her—apartment had been no good though, not without Wally. So she’d left most of her things in storage to figure out later and moved back in with her mom. On days when Artemis can’t muster the energy to get out of bed, Paula wheels determinedly around the kitchen, ready to whip up some mì xào  or a warm bowl of  mì gói.  They play card games and laugh about how bad Wally was at tiến lên the first time Paula tried to teach him. Your boy has no patience, he always wants to play his strongest cards right away, her mom had teased, and Wally had protested, I make it a rule to always put my best foot forward! and Artemis had loved him even more then.

Loved. Loves. She hates the past tense.

“I mean, were you ever going to ask me to grab coffee?”

She can see the bits of Wally in his cracks. In a room together, it was always easy to tell they were best friends from the way they riffed off each other. The acrobat and the speedster: all verbal gymnastics and fast-moving quips. But unlike Wally, who liked poking fun because he liked getting attention, Dick is at his wittiest when trying to avoid talking about himself.

Artemis reaches out and pulls him to sit down beside her. She makes a show of looking at her watch.

“How’s… 12:15 AM this Saturday?”

Dick pretends to check it against his mental schedule. If his is anything like hers, it probably goes: Wake up. Exercise (beating up bad guys counts). Mourn.

“Yeah, seems like I can swing it.”

“Perfect,” says Artemis, sliding up the glass panes to let them into her childhood bedroom. “I’ve got just the stuff.” 

*

In the kitchen, Brucely stirs briefly from his dog bed to sniff the air and  yip, then curls back asleep. Paula hands Dick a mug, waiting for him to take a sip before saying, “So you were the one who had the brilliant plan to have my daughter fake her death.” 

Dick splutters; from the table, Artemis rises to his defense. “Mom,” she says. “Leave him be.”

Setting his cup down, Dick leans against the cabinets, bending his head slightly and rubbing the back of his neck. He does a good job of appearing chastised, and Artemis wants to roll her eyes, if only because she’s heard from Bette and Raquel that this pose is far too effective at convincing women to want to forgive him or try again.

“I’m not leading much of anything these days, if that’s at all a comfort to you.”

“Hmph.” Paula sniffs. “You live alone?”

“Yeah.” Dick shoots Artemis a questioning look over her mom’s head. Artemis shrugs.

“What do you do to fill the time?”

“A lot of reading. Gotham’s library system actually has a pretty good selection, believe it or not. I’ve also gotten really into meditating.”

“And you don’t sleep.”

Dick stiffens. For the first time, he looks exposed, a boy with too much guilt and too much time on his hands.

“I do. Tonight I was just… restless.”

Paula nods and backs up her wheelchair so she can sit by Artemis, curling her fingers over Artemis’s hand and squeezing. She raises her drink, Artemis and Dick following suit, the three of them toasting to invisible losses.

“Aren’t we all.”

*

Later, back on the fire escape, Dick taps his fingers against the railing, jittery. “I feel like I need to start doing jumping jacks. What was in that stuff?”

Artemis bites back a smile. “Yeah, Vietnamese coffee packs a hit. That’s my bad. Probably should have given you something non-caffeinated at this hour.”

“It’s fine. I’ll jog it out, or something.” He turns to go, but Artemis stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, listen—it was good seeing you tonight. And if you need someone to talk to…” What she really means is: it’d be nice to be around someone who’s hurting as much as I am. Not to say that the rest of the team wasn’t as torn up over Wally’s death, but she and Dick had been ground zero. Closest to the blast.

After a pause, Dick nods. “Yeah… I could use a sparring partner, actually. I’ll send you an address.”

“Okay.” Satisfied, Artemis withdraws her hand, curling her fingers into her palm.

It feels like a start.

*

Dick’s directions lead Artemis to Wayne Manor; from there he takes her to the Bat Cave.

“I thought you were striking out on your own,” Artemis says, using her forearms to deflect a kick to her face. Dick grunts and recovers, throwing a punch to her stomach; she dances out of the way.

“I am. I just pop in here from time to time because Bruce has better equipment. Plus there’s less of a chance of me disturbing the neighbors.” He gestures to the eerily blue-lit stone walls around them.

Artemis feints and goes low, ducking under Dick’s guard. Two quick hits to Dick’s sternum pushes him back, before he gets a hand on her wrist and twists her around so that her back is pressed against his chest.

“Weren’t we supposed to be talking?”

Kicking his shin, Artemis breaks free. “All right, fine. I’ll start.”  Jab.  “I keep wanting a scapegoat.”  Kick.  “Like, one person to blame, instead of something as big as the Reach. But it’s not some giant revenge thing, and I know Wally wouldn’t want me to go down that sort of all-consuming rabbit hole even if it was, and that pisses. Me. Off.” On those last words, she manages to use Dick’s momentum against him and flips him over her shoulder.

For a minute, it’s so quiet between them she can hear the faint plip of water dripping from a stalactite into the water below the sparring dais. Still lying on the floor, Dick confesses, “I keep hearing him.”

“I make a joke to myself and he’s there, in my ear, with the punchline. And then…” He passes a hand over his face.  “And then I realize that the real punchline is him being gone.”

Slowly, Artemis approaches him. She feels like she did when they were undercover at Haly’s circus so many years ago, that brief moment of hangtime before their hands connected in the air. She means to sit down next to him, pat his shoulder, she doesn’t know what, but instead Dick sweeps her legs out from under her and she goes down hard, the air whooshing out of her chest as she falls flat on her back.

“Agh!” The release sets something loose inside her. Next thing she knows, she’s yelling again, louder, just because.

Dick catches on and then it’s just the two of them shouting, their voices echoing through the cavern, threading around and piling atop each other like a flock of birds. After they’re done, Dick rolls so that they’re lying side by side.

“You know, when we were starting out—when we first became friends—I used to make fun of Wally that if he kept talking so much while running he was bound to swallow more bugs, or something. And he’d just shoot back like, ‘Nah dude, you think I’m not fast enough to see them and dodge them in the air?’ But you know how he was always so hungry after missions? One time I was so mad at him I put a bug in his sandwich. I’ve never forgotten the look on his face after he bit into it and I said, dodge that.”

“You didn’t.” Artemis gasps and covers her mouth, horrified, but she can see it so vividly: the colors draining from Wally’s face, making his freckles pop even more against his skin, the same greenish tint his cheeks took the time they went to Vietnam and he got food poisoning. He’d spent two days feverishly glaring up at the mosquito netting, and Artemis had draped cold hand towels over his forehead and promised she wasn’t going to leave him for the very obliging boy who kept bringing them ice.

“I did.” Dick is gleeful. “Really put the ‘rank’ in prank.”  

Artemis snorts; the snort turns into a full-blown guffaw. Dick turns toward her, laughing too. His hair is matted with sweat but still soft; it brushes against her forehead.

It feels so good to be close to someone again, to be able to flip on a dime from sadness to frustration to anger to laughter and not have to explain herself. She can’t remember the last time she smiled and didn’t feel guilty about it, and she means it more affectionately than anything when she reaches over and brings Dick’s mouth to hers, like if she inhales whatever they’ve temporarily managed to create here between them, it’ll be enough to tide her over for the next few months. For a second, he’s warm and responsive, before his lips stiffen and he pulls back.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t.  Shouldn’t beat yourself up about it, shouldn’t blame yourself for getting back in the game.  Artemis is sick of people telling her how to deal, how it’s supposed to go.  It’ll get better and then it doesn’t. People talk like there are guidebooks for this kind of shit, like it’s a marathon she just needs to pace herself through. And it’s the stupidest thing, but she misses being held.

She sits up and crosses her arms, resisting the urge to curl in on herself. “You didn’t do anything. I’ll go.”

“No, Artemis, wait, I don’t think you should go, I just want to understand what’s going on—”

“I want you to touch me, okay?” she explodes. “I want you to touch me because he’s never going to again and I know you loved him too and—and maybe if it’s you, I won’t feel so desperately alone.”

Dick looks stricken, and then, hesitantly, he reaches for her. His eyes are so blue, the kind of crushed eggshell you’d use to make a paint. “You’re not alone.”

“Prove it,” she says, vision blurring with tears—wanting, needing him closer, and then his hairline is up against hers again and his nose is at her cheek, his mouth at her jaw, soft but with a willingness to bruise. Don’t ask me what we’re about to do, Artemis silently begs, and Dick doesn’t.

 *

 Wally had been a restless lover. Always turning them over, switching positions. Artemis had taken it as a challenge, part of the ongoing competition that defined their relationship. Deep down, she’d known that Wally would be just as content if the rest of their sex life consisted solely of spooning gently on Sundays, which, if anything, was why she’d been so eager to experiment—because it felt like an easy gift she could give, not something she had to master to “maintain excitement” or make him stay.

She’s not sure what she expected from Dick. Maybe that’s a comfort—that she wasn’t fantasizing before they happened, wondering about all the mechanics of how it would go. Dick lets her call the shots, lets her ride him into the ground, the grip of his fingers around her thighs the only reminder she isn’t just angling toward oblivion. When he presses his thumb between her legs, it’s a weird sort of anchor—like hearing a voice pick up on a line you thought was dead. She has a body, and here’s someone on the other end of it, caring about her release. As soon as that thought hits, the relief shudders through her; she keeps rocking long enough to feel Dick follow, a stutter and a grunt, before she collapses boneless over him, the sweat of his skin a comforting stickiness against her cheek.

Internally, she apologizes to Bruce for desecrating his training space. Then again, they’re hardly the first of the Justice League to get handsy in less than appropriate places. She’s seen how Black Canary and Green Arrow act around each other.

Below her, Dick catches his breath. The rush of blood—his or hers—is loud in her ears.

“I didn’t think you’d be so…”  Giving, she means to say, but it gets lost on her tongue. “I mean, Zatanna…” she trails off again.

If Dick’s embarrassed at the prospect of his ex-girlfriend having blabbed about the details of their sex life to Artemis, he doesn’t show it. His fingers find a snag in her hair; gently, he works it loose. The air smells hedonistic. He keeps combing. Nice is the only word she can think to describe it, and that makes her want to cry again, so she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his chest.

Dick pauses his ministrations. He flattens his palm against the base of her neck and just—holds her there.

“Don’t mention it.”  

When she goes home that afternoon to shower, she runs the water on full blast for a long time.

 *

 Armed with Chinese food, she visits Dick’s place the next day intent on making amends. Dick doesn’t even act surprised; he just points to the glass coffee table where she can set the bag of chopsticks, napkins, and takeout.

“I’m trying to decide what to watch.”

There’s really no need for him to stand in front of the TV the way he does, one hand propped on his hip as he clicks through options with the remote. Artemis lets herself ogle, a bit. The surest way to blow past what happened between them yesterday is to be honest with herself, right? And as far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could have done worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass.

“Any preferences?”

“Between what?” asks Artemis, cracking open the carton of lo mein and settling back against the cushions. The Netflix suggestion algorithm onscreen paints a condemning picture of Dick’s tastes. “True crime or… true crime?”

Wally had been really into nature documentaries. One time during freshman year, when they were still living on Stanford’s campus, they’d gotten high in Wally’s dorm room and watched Blue Planet. Wally had cried when the seal got flung apart by killer whales.

“I’ll Be Gone in the Dark it is, then,” says Dick. He settles next to her on the couch, peeling back one of the orders and sniffing its contents. “What’s this one?”

“Salt and pepper ribs. They were today’s special.”

“Artemis.” Dick beams. “You really do care about me.”

 *

 Ten minutes into the episode begs a single question: “Isn’t it sort of depressing that you spend so much of your day fighting crime, and then you go home to unwind and just watch… more of it?”

Dick shrugs. “It keeps me sharp. And it’s nice seeing other people solve problems.”

“Well, if you ever feel like branching out, there’s a short film about Rubik’s cubes you might like.” Artemis nudges his side. “Remember when you were a scrawny math geek?”

Bringing both hands behind his head, Dick smirks. “Still a math geek. Just not scrawny.”

Artemis stares. That was just a bit of friendly showboating, right? Or was it a flirt? Not trusting herself, she whips her gaze back toward the TV. What feels like eons later, the credits roll.

“Artemis,” Dick says, too soft for having just finished a show about murder. He taps the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got some food stuck.”

She wipes with the back of her hand; a breaded piece of orange chicken emerges as the culprit. Without thinking, she flicks it off, sending it flying somewhere onto Dick’s carpet.

“Oops.”

Chuckling, Dick shakes his head. “I need to vacuum tomorrow, anyways.”

The mention of tomorrow stirs her. “Right. I should head out.”

“Yeah.” Dick rises to help her clean up their mess, holding open the plastic bag so she can toss in the soiled napkins and other bits of trash. “Or—”

He hesitates, but the hesitation’s enough. It might as well be a hand on her wrist, with how it stops her in her tracks. All night, despite what she told herself, she’s been looking for proof: proof that his aloneness fits the shape of hers, that he needs her, too. This time, Dick makes the first move—cups her face in both hands and kisses her, slow and deep and full of heat. Some pepper from the food they ate still lingers on his lips, making her mouth tingle, and Artemis is dizzy and flat on her back on the couch before she knows it, giving in.

Not scrawny at all, she thinks, admiring the solidness of Dick’s knees on either side of her, the weight of his frame as they grind together. The sheer mechanics of it feel very horny-teenager-after-prom, but the way Dick sucks her bottom lip and swallows her breath down with it is decidedly adult.  These days, Artemis practically lives in her sports bra, which doesn’t exactly grant easy access, but when Dick’s fingertips skim over the cotton covering her breasts the sensation zings all the way down her spine.

“Need… off…”

“Yeah,” Dick murmurs, humming as he moves down the column of her neck. “Gimme a sec, I’m working on it.”

She’d worn sweats because she figured their bagginess would keep her from sparring again and any potential… situations that could arise from that. Instead, all it means is Dick unties the drawstrings easily, sliding her pants down her legs. Cool air brushes across her as he shifts positions; she wants to sob in relief. His teeth graze her hip and then catch the edge of her panties and—oh. Fuck. The moan tears out of her and she scrabbles at the armrest, hips rising of their own accord. Next time, she is handcuffing Dick to a bed, because what he’s doing with his tongue and fingers should be illegal. She can feel him grinning, the bastard, and the only thing keeping her from crushing his head to a pulp between her thighs is the maneuver he pulls where he hooks her knees over his shoulders, so he can change the angle and plunge in deeper. Artemis shoves the edge of her T-shirt into her mouth at the last minute, only barely managing to muffle her cry.

Dick surfaces from his solo mission looking entirely too satisfied, mouth glistening. Trembling, still, from her orgasm, Artemis squints at him, possessed by some combination of unbridled lust and rage.

“Dick.”

“You calling, or asking?”

“Shut up,” she hisses. She feels like a newborn foal, after what he just did to her, but the urge to dismantle him just as thoroughly sends her surging upward and pushing him back. Dick welcomes their reversed positions by peeling off his shirt and tossing it over his shoulder, all while Artemis works furiously at his belt. It shouldn’t feel so good, to hear the metal clink against his button and watch the leather slide through the loops. To see the shadows the light of the TV casts on him—the lashes on his cheeks, the hollow of his throat. Artemis hadn’t paid much attention the first time, too desperate and caught up a bit in self-loathing, but now she’s actually enjoying this, savoring the flex of Dick’s abs as he pushes up to meet her, his skin pebbling at her touch.

“I’m going to take you apart,” she purrs.

Dick groans and bucks. The sensation sends a sharp spike of pleasure through her, and she clamps down on him tighter, refusing to yield.

“Try me, Tigress,” he rasps, pushing himself up on one arm so he can mouth at her collarbone. With his other hand, he pulls off her hairtie so her hair comes free of her ponytail, and this is going to be a thing with him, isn’t it, him wanting to fuck her while her hair swings loose around her face. She indulges him for a few minutes, claws his back and bites his shoulder for good measure, but then she’s pushing him back down and stretching out her body as languidly as possible to remind him who’s boss. Their pace slows. Dick keeps a hand fisted in her hair, so he can tug her head back in order to keep her neck exposed to his wanton mouth, but his grip gets less sure the closer she pushes him to the edge.

“Art—” says Dick, the single syllable like a painting pinned to the wall, fraught with desire, and then he just lets it drop, the tresses of her hair falling through his fingers. She wants to tell him that he’s beautiful, that he does look like a boy wonder, right then, in the midst of coming undone, chest flushed and hair mussed and pupils blown nearly wide enough to overtake the blue.

She doesn’t, but she stays the night, and that’s close enough.

 *

  High-functioning, Artemis’s therapist had called her, before Artemis moved back to Gotham. And it does feel like a high—the sneaking around, the after-hours meet-ups, the back-and-forth. There’s no one really keeping tabs on her, though Artemis has plenty of cover stories if anyone asks (new intel, side reconnaissance, etcetera, etcetera). Her mom eyes her and says, “As long as you’re not planning on staging your own death again, because I will find out and I will kill you this time,” and that’s that. Artemis nearly laughs. If anything, what she’s doing is the opposite, a small resurrection. An entire month and a half passes this way: day trips and dinners and movie nights and Dick and her in a bathtub, in the shower, against a wall. She even wears a gown and heels once, not because they have an actual event to attend, but because Dick has a fantasy that involves taking her from behind in the Wayne Manor library.

They’re in his apartment on a Sunday morning bathing in the afterglow, sheets tangled around their waists. Thank god Dick is one of those assholes that splurged on not only a nice mattress but also a solid bed frame. Artemis reaches over to push the hair out of his eyes. The black tuft on the back of his head that she likes grabbing is fluffed up like a duck's tail, and under the sunlight slanting through the windows, he looks angelic.

“Are you falling back asleep?”

Yawning, Dick snags her around the waist, dragging her to him. She should not delight this much in being manhandled.

“You wore me out,” he complains, tucking his chin over her shoulder.

“They just don’t make them like they used to,” Artemis sighs. Dick growls a little at the dig, fingers tightening against her hip.

Well. If he’s going to nap, she is, too. Comfortably spooned, she snuggles back against him, prepared to drift off.

“Do you think Wally would have wanted…” Dick doesn’t finish the thought.

Artemis turns in his arms. Dick has long eyelashes, and he’s looking at her through them almost bashfully. She places a hand on his chest. Feels his heartbeat thump once, twice.

“I think he would want us to be happy.”

“Are you?” Dick’s voice fades out and he has to swallow hard to clear his throat. “Happy?”

“I’m not… miserable.” 

Dick runs his hand up her bare arm, over her shoulder. “Me neither.”

“You know, Wally and I thought…” She bites her lip, remembering a whoosh of air, Wally speeding to her side to kiss her and interrupting her report on the disabled Paris MFD.  I know we promised each other we’d get out of this game, but maybe we can have our life together and play hero, too.  “We thought we’d have everything.”

Dick’s response isn’t mournful; it’s matter-of-fact. “After my parents died, I never really convinced myself that I could have it all.”

“That sounds like something Batman would say.”

“Does it?”

“A little.”

Once upon a time, Artemis had stood before the team ready to lay bare her darkest secret, waiting to be kicked out. And Dick had shown his hand: he’d known from the beginning and hadn’t cared.  You aren’t your family. You’re one of us. She knows he’s second-guessed himself over the years, wondering how fit he actually is to play leader. But for her, trust has always been the easiest thing about the two of them. It was why she’d said yes so easily to his deep cover mission—because she knew that he wouldn’t quit until he’d brought all of them home, that he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.

Taking his face in both her hands, she looks deep into his eyes. “You deserve good things, Dick Grayson.”

“Mm.” Dick smiles into her kiss, hooks his ankle over hers. “Keep telling me that. I’ll start to believe it.”

 *

 Jade abandons Will and Lian on a Tuesday, and Artemis’s carefully crafted equilibrium falls apart. At least this time she’s not the one directly being left, unlike when she was a teenager. Her expectations of her older sister had hardly been high, but if she’d plotted them on a graph they’d have trended upward. Now they’ve tanked.

“Did she leave any hint of where she was going?” Dick asks over the whir of his juicer. He’s gotten really into squeezing oranges lately; Artemis can’t complain because he always gives her the first glass.

“It’s Jade. She never wants to be found, and I hardly think she’s about to try an  Eat Pray Love type thing.”

“Eat Slash Steal, maybe?” Dick offers, dropping two ice cubes into a drink and setting it in front of her.

Artemis sips, balling up a napkin and throwing it at him at the same time. “Watch it, that’s still my family you’re talking about.”

“I’m sorry. How’s Will taking it?”

“As well as any dad trying to raise a two-year-old by himself would.”

“So, poorly.” Dick taps his finger against the table. “Are they coming here?”

Artemis looks at him blankly. “Why?”

“I figured they might want to be closer to you and your mom now that Jade’s gone. Gotham’s not so bad—you and I turned out fine. And Will probably needs to look into preschools and a babysitter for Lian soon. If you move in with me, you can bring her over whenever.”

The last piece of information slips in so casually she thinks she’s misheard. “What?”

“If you move in with me, you can bring Lian over whenever,” repeats Dick. “This place is as good as yours. You’re over here all the time anyway.”

Suddenly, she can’t breathe. “You’re serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She can’t meet his eyes. “W—Will’s home is in Star City. He’s not going to move.”

Slowly, Dick says, “Okay. But my offer doesn’t really depend on Will.”

Her stuff is still in boxes. She’s still paying for a storage unit almost 3,000 miles away. And Dick is waiting on her so intently it makes her chest hurt.

Artemis stands up. “We’re not doing this.”

Dick’s eyebrows rise. Annoyance, or maybe anger, flickers across his face. “You wanna fill me in on what exactly it is we’re doing, according to you?”

“We’re not going to fight about this like we’re…”  In a relationship. In love. In anything other than a messy configuration started by shared grief. She doesn’t say any of it out loud, but she doesn’t need to—Dick’s always been great at reading people, and he’s known all her tells from the start.

“Right.”  The single syllable comes out as cold and pointed as an icicle. He pushes his chair back from the table and stands up. The clouds are rolling in, throwing shadows across his features. Even now, Artemis wants to kiss him, wants to be the one to smooth the furrow between his eyebrows away.

“Dick…”

“Do me a favor, will you?” Dick grabs his jacket from the hook by his door, shrugging it on. He pauses, briefly, in the doorway. “Lock my door on the way out.”  

That night, she lies alone in her bedroom next to the picture of her, Wally, and Brucely. Brucely snuffles at the foot of her bed and then leaps onto the covers, and this time she doesn’t shoo him off. Neither does she fall asleep.

 *

 There was a song Jade had liked to sing, passed down from their mother: a Vietnamese lullaby about a yellow butterfly, to the tune of “Frère Jacques.” The butterfly flies all over the sky. Come and see. Come and see. When it became clear that Artemis’s hair would grow in blond, not black, Jade started pulling it, making her giggle. You’re the yellow butterfly, see?

The taxicab she calls for the airport is bright yellow in the morning light. Plain old civilian travel for plain old civilian business. You don’t need to be a superhero to fly across the country and move in with your brother-in-law and your niece. She’ll sing silly little songs and wash Lian’s hair, and they’ll be a family same as anyone else’s: clumsy, incomplete.

“Artemis.” Dick coalesces out of the fog. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a week, and she should be mad that he’s here because it probably means he’s been monitoring her web traffic and caught wind she’d bought plane tickets. Still, all she feels is relief.

Jade had laughed when Artemis had let slip what she was doing during one rare sisterly bonding moment. “Oh, darling sister, your thing with your little bird boy isn’t about moving on. You’re using him as a holding pattern. Try not to damage him too much, hm?” Rankled, Artemis had hung up the phone—what did Jade know about anything, besides shoving it under the rug and pretending it didn’t matter? Now, though, Artemis sees things more clearly. Jade did know something about bodies and what they could and couldn’t fix; after all, isn’t that why she ran?

She worries with the strap of her duffel bag, letting Dick approach.

“If this were a romcom, you would have waited until I got to the airport and then run through security.”

“If this were a romcom,” says Dick, stopping in front of her and shoving his hands in his pockets, “I’d be trying to make you stay.”

She thinks he might be the one person left on this planet who knows her best. She thinks they could save each other, if they’d let themselves try. But they each have work to do on their own, first.

Setting down her bag, she tucks her face into the crook of his neck and breathes him in. Wherever else she goes, this spot will always feel like forgiveness. Nose buried in her hair, Dick squeezes her back.

The taxi driver rolls down his window. “Is this guy coming with us or not?”

Artemis pulls back, and there’s so much sky in Dick’s eyes.

“You know where to find me,” she says.

 *

 | STAR CITY

| JULY 29, 2018; 7:30 AM PST

 “Who are you here to recruit this time?” Will asks, leaning against the doorframe, but Artemis doesn’t need an answer, doesn’t need any details but the black hair she can see just over Will’s shoulder, Dick’s voice at the end of a line.

He jumps, and she jumps with him. They’ll figure out everything else as they go.

Before Dick can respond, she says: “I’m in.”

[dukeofonions]

“Because I was one of them.”

“Oh, okay cool.”

Or alternatively: Why Virgil’s confession has lost it’s impact.

Exploring the Dark Sides (Part One)

Something I realized the other day is that a lot of my current issues with this series wouldn’t exist if there was a consistent uploading schedule. 

You see when there’s a steady stream of new content flowing I’m more inclined to just go with the flow and not spend so much time looking back analyzing things I’ve already floated past because why should I when there’s so much new stuff ahead? 

But say that stream suddenly comes to an abrupt stop and I’m left sitting with nowhere else to go. At that point I start looking back, noticing little things that I hadn’t noticed during my initial trip down this metaphorical river. I now notice all the jagged rocks, how shallow the water actually is, etc. 

And while this doesn’t necessarily ruin my experience over all, I’m left scratching my head wondering whose idea it was to come to this place anyway. Sure it’s not the worst place to go floating, but surely there’s a better place with deeper water and less hazards. Just an easier way to float along where one doesn’t have to worry about the stream suddenly ending. 

I don’t know where this metaphor came from but to sum it up: since there are such long waits (years now) between actual Sanders Sides episodes and there’s a lack of new content to take in, I’m left looking back over what we have now and during my little look backs I’ve begun to notice some things that cause issues with the latest additions to the series. 

Some of the more interesting things I’ve noticed revolve around the three resident “Dark Sides” and how they’re written in the series. While a lot of it is really good and I think they’ve got some of the best moments in the series, there’s also a lot of little things that pop up that, when looking at the series as a whole, don’t make a lot of sense. 

Which is why I’ve begun this little series where I do a little deep dive into some of these things I’ve noticed and break them down to see if I can try and make sense of it, and this post is going to focus on Virgil.

More specifically, Virgil’s confession to being a former “Dark Side” and how it’s kinda lost it’s thunder.

As per usual, this is all my own opinion and you’re free to agree or disagree as you see fit. Of course I get pretty salty but I try to avoid getting too negative because where’s the fun in that? 

Anywho, on with the show! 

I’ll admit, despite my problems with the concept of “Dark Sides” as a whole, I genuinely loved the subplot of Virgil hiding that he used to be one of them from Thomas.

From a story telling standpoint they do a good job with the foreshadowing, leaving plenty of clues for the audience to find and it all pays off at the end. It’s also unclear at first whether Roman, Logan, and Patton know (Spoiler alert they do) and there’s some close calls via Janus and Remus dropping hints in front of Thomas which cause Virgil to freak out and adds some tension to the series. 

It also provides a bit of a mystery around Virgil, Janus, and Remus as while it’s clear that the three have some kind of history together we’re never told or shown explicitly how their relationship was. Of course, we’re given plenty of hints, but we have yet to know what life was like when Virgil was “one of them” and it gives the audience more to look forward to and theorize about. 

And of course, the actual reveal itself is amazing. The acting, the music, the complete silence after Virgil confesses and him looking like he’s about to cry as he sinks out is just *cheff’s kiss* perfect.

So what exactly is the problem here? 

The foreshadowing? There’s just enough to get people theorizing but still plenty of room for people to speculate without spelling everything out. 

The reveal? What can I say, I don’t have any complaints here. It’s definitely one of my favorite scenes from the series and I can’t find a single thing wrong with it from a technical stand point.

But as mentioned before, I started thinking about it more, and after taking everything we know about Virgil and "the dark sides" into account, this question suddenly came to mind:

Why is Thomas so shocked by this?

Think about it, when Virgil first appeared he was a little bitch. He was kind of the first antagonist of the series. Not evil per say, but compared to the other Sides he was a little shit who enjoyed bringing Thomas down. He was very much what one might consider a "dark side."

He wasn't ever trying to act like a "good guy" in order to earn Thomas's trust or anything, he was very open about what his role was and how it’s just who he is. So really, Thomas's reaction should have been something along the lines of, "Oh, okay. Makes sense."

Of course, we do see Virgil change over time and we learn that he isn't as bad as he seems (even though that seems questionable now) but that should have made his "past" even more obvious.

Like, Thomas, the guy had a whole acceptance arc because he was a bitch and no one liked him. You were literally there throughout his entire journey, it shouldn't surprise you that he was once part of a group you consider to be "evil."

Well okay, maybe Virgil just wanted to be honest regardless of whether or not the "dark sides" are actually evil or not. Who knows? Maybe he chose to confess when he did because he saw how horribly Remus had been affecting Thomas and seeing as he felt as though he'd failed to protect Thomas from Remus and Janus, figured he might as well try to protect Thomas from himself as well.

Which, okay, if that were the case then that could explain Thomas's reaction. He'd just met Remus, saw him at what could he his worst (we've only had one actual episode with Remus so who knows how bad he can get?) and while he learned that he's actually pretty easy to deal with and isn't as scary as he thought, who's to say the reverse couldn't happen with Virgil?

He saw that he wasn't as bad as he thought, but when you look at how nasty Virgil's been lately, who's to say that couldn't happen? It's been said that Virgil, as Thomas's anxiety, is manageable and isn't as bad as others. But we've literally seen Thomas say that he's afraid of what Virgil could do and so he just kind of has to let him do his thing in order to avoid all the "bad stuff" he could do.

According to Thomas: "There's a lot that Virgil could do that I don't want him to do. He knows exactly how to push my buttons. But he is who he is. All we can do is try to listen to him as best as we can and adapt to his needs."

(For anyone who wants to watch the clip here's the time stamp Embarrassing Phases 20:31)

Uh, yeah, that sounds super healthy there. But I'll get into my issues with that little message in another post.

Just before this though, Roman had asked Thomas if "He's (Virgil) going back to being scary can I go back to calling him names?"

Thomas responds by telling him as he's leaving that he still has to be nice to him, before Logan expresses that he's glad (or relieved) that Virgil didn't go into Thomas's "girl phase" which just hearing it being mentioned seems to stress Thomas out. Then finally after Logan leaves Patton explains that while he's trying to respect Virgil's wants and still be a good friend, he feels like he just makes things worse which is where Thomas attempts to reassure him.

Except his advice is to just, let Virgil do what he wants so he doesn't hurt them? And while he says they need to work with Virgil it doesn't seem like he's requiring Virgil to work with him as well in order to not make his life miserable?

Hm, is it possible that my answer as to why Thomas reacts so strongly to Virgil being "one of them" lies within my least favorite episode in the series?

Perhaps Thomas was already starting to be afraid of Virgil before the whole confession in DWIT, and has gotten to a point where he's forcing himself (shown by him telling the others to keep "being nice to Virgil" despite how he treats them) to just take whatever Virgil throws at him in order to spare himself from whatever worse things Virgil could do to him?

That, added with everything that happens in Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, where Thomas witnesses a Side of himself that appears to be worse than Virgil, could have set him on edge. And if Remus, who he considers a dark side, who he openly admits to hating and is so afraid of him that he loses sleep, then just how bad could Virgil be if he was ever at his worst?

With all that in mind, yeah. It does make sense why Thomas would react the way he did and why he'd be cautious of trusting Virgil in the future.

Except, none of this has actually been confirmed within the series and is purely speculation and since we still don't have the season two finale, we really have no idea what Thomas actually feels towards the situation since he kinda brushes it off at the end of DWIT by doing the outro.

But wait... we actually do know how Thomas feels. In fact, we already know how the issue is resolved!

Looks like it's time for-

How Asides Ruins Everything!

You all remember when Asides was first announced, right? These were meant to be shorter, lighter videos that took place outside of the current series and were meant to give us content in between the long breaks for regular Sanders Sides episodes that also wouldn't get in the way of filming said episodes.

Well we all know how that little idea turned out seeing as it's now been a year since Putting Others First and they decided that we needed to have two Asides episodes before the finale that were apparently essential to the "plot" even though the current plot in Sanders Sides has nothing to do with Thomas getting a boyfriend but I digress.

But you know, I wouldn't be as upset about the Asides causing us having to wait longer for the actual story to pick up again, if the Asides episodes didn't ruin the actual series!

How did it manage this? Well, let's just look at Virgil here and the entire point of this post which is, as the title states, why his confession has lost its impact.

And the answer? Well, at some point the writer's decided that the best way to resolve the new conflict between Thomas and Virgil was to have them indirectly make amends by using some random character that is clearly just a stand in for Virgil and use this character's "confession of a past they weren't proud of" as a way to discuss the situation and Thomas's feelings on the matter just to have Thomas indirectly assure Virgil that they're still "okay" and it doesn't bother him.

So according to Asides, Thomas is just fine with Virgil despite his confession. And as we see in the following Asides episode, they're still cool with each other!

So what was the point of that dramatic confession, which was being built up towards throughout pretty much all of season two, just to have the characters indirectly discuss it and make amends like it was nothing???

Why should the audience care when it all just gets brushed aside (ha) like it's no big deal?

Everything was in place for Virgil's reveal before the Asides came into the picture. You had the build up, you had the pay off, there was the suspense when Virgil was completely absent from POF, and then you would have had him confronting Thomas and the two having to directly come to terms with this new information.

But nope! Let's just have them sit awkwardly by each other on the couch while they watch Frozen in onesies while everyone keeps talking about some random character whom the audience has never heard of before that we're supposed to figure out is meant to represent Virgil and Thomas is all "Nah we're still cool bro."

What's supposed to happen now? Janus is supposedly a "good guy" now so why would he bring up Virgil's past to get under his skin? And if he still does why would it bother Thomas since he's already come to terms with it?

Look, even though I've got my problems with the concept of "dark sides" as a whole, it wouldn't have mattered to me if they'd at least committed to telling a good story here with Virgil's past because I was genuinely interested in that.

I freaked out when he told Thomas, and initially I thought we weren't going to see those two interact again until the finale where Virgil would finally have to face Thomas and we'd get to watch how he comes to terms with it. And if Asides hadn't been a thing and we had gone straight from DWIT to POF it looks like this was the direction they were headed.

But instead we're basically told (not shown) by Thomas that he's fine with Virgil. And the reason as to why Virgil's not in POF despite being on good terms with Thomas?

"There was just no reason for him to be there."

Really? There was no reason for Virgil, who was directly part of the discussion that led to POF in the first place, to be present during the aftermath of the decision they all had helped Thomas make?

There was more reason for him to be there than Logan and he still showed up! They had the perfect explanation set up for them in DWIT: Virgil had just revealed his past to Thomas and due to being afraid of how he'd respond (or just wanting to give Thomas space and not stress him out more) chose to remain absent from the conversation.

That actually makes sense and lines up with the story but nope.

The "Dark Sides" and Virgil's past with them was one of my favorite things about the series. The mystery surrounding it all and Virgil trying to protect Thomas from them while keeping his own history with them a secret was a brilliant concept thats just kinda fallen flat on its face.

The long waits between episodes don't help, and how they're rushing through certain aspects within the series itself along with Asides coming in and muddling things up, I don't really care to be invested anymore.

Why should I when there's a chance anything interesting they come up with will just be glossed over like it's no big deal?

It's hard to make a final judgment here in regards to Virgil's current arc when we still have no conclusion in sight. But from what we've seen from Asides, which is now integral to the plot of Sanders Sides, we kinda already have our answer.

Thomas and Virgil are just fine with each other. We learned that Flirting With Social Anxiety takes place right after POF and that Virgil already knows about Janus getting on Thomas's good side so there's no suspension with him finding out about that either.

All that's really left with him is his troubling relationship with Patton but I don't even care about that anymore. They've hardly addressed it at all and given what we've been seeing I doubt the conclusion to their strained relationship won't be satisfying either.

I don't know what the finale, or the rest of the series, will hold concerning Virgil. While I hope that things will turn around and get better, at this current rate it doesn't seem likely.

Episodes are still taking years to make, and the ones we're getting are just distracting from the main plot or taking things away.

Virgil isn't the only character suffering from this, but at least he's not as worse off as others.

Which is why in the next installment of this series, we'll be taking a look at a little, yellow snake and how one of the characters with the most potential ended up being the most underwhelming parts of the series.

[joyfulhopelox]

Coffee puns and wayside milkshakes

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (idol!jin, non-idol!reader, established relationship)

Warnings: some light swearing, really bad puns

Summary: Busy schedules have made it impossible to spend time with your boyfriend but he makes sure to assure you that he is still thinking of you. So even though he has promotions during summer he takes the time to plan an amazing road trip just for the two of you. Even if it is just to the drive thru in the next town over.

Genre: fluff gone into crack or crack gone into fluff

Word count: 3,020

Rating: g

A/N: This is part of the @bangtanwritingbingo event! Chosen square number 1 is 'road trip'. I made it pure fluff which i have to admit i thought i would be completely terrible at, but the more i write the better i get at it (hopefully). I had so much fun writing this! It was also once again meant to be a drabble, but....that is clearly something i have to work on. Enjoy some really bad puns from me!

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

“Tell me again why are we up….” observing the still and dark atmosphere out the window you sighed, “at the ass crack of dawn?”

Normally, you would not question your boyfriend. Even when he would make stupid jokes or do stupid things, which acted contrary to his close-to-30 age. You trusted him completely, you may even say you trusted him with your life. And yet, this morning or night, you were seriously questioning his sanity. Have his schedules gotten to his head? Has the tiredness of constant practice and promotions made him lose it?

“Just you wait, love, i told you it’s a surprise” he shushed you, excitedly jumping out of the warm bed. Not wanting to get up just yet, it was 4am in the morning for God’s sake, you burrowed yourself deeper into the warm sheets whilst commandeering his pillow. “Love, come on get up. The surprise will not work if we are late” Seokjin whined.

“No, 5 more minutes” you grumbled into the pillow. It smelled of him and that comfort was slowly getting you back into the dream world. A dream world where a normal Jin would wake you up at a normal time, and you would get to spend a normal day together, gaming and cooking. But no, reality had to be shattered, instead this Seokjin was tugging at the duvet whilst patting your leg. “Okay, 5 more minutes whilst i go wash up but then you have to get up. We have to be in the car in 30 minutes” he warned, breaking you out of your dreamworld.

Basking in the comfort of the bed until you hear the bathroom door close, you decide that you were awake enough to face the chill of a summer morning. Throwing the blanket off of you, you gave the window a dirty look. As if it was the cause of your distress. It was summer, why was it so dark outside early in the morning? Because you woke up, correction because your lovely boyfriend woke you up at an ungodly hour. “I swear Kim Seokjin….” you mumbled to yourself. Making your way hurriedly to the kitchen, your form still wrapped like a burrito in the blanket you decided you needed caffeine, and fast.

“Love, now is not the time, we can’t be late” jumping at the whiny voice of your boyfriend you turned around, and when recalling this story to his friends, Jin would swear that he physically felt your murderous gaze stabbing him. “Kim Seokjin, if you do not allow me to have at least one cup of coffee before we set out onto this whatever it is” motioning wildly in the air “i swear i will make your life a living hell forever, even after i am dead i will haunt you until you are dead, and even in death i will haunt you” rambling on you failed to notice the amused expression on Jin’s face. God, you were adorable. However, as soon as you had finished your rant and you gazed back at him, for the sake of his life and his family jewels he straightened his pose and nodded at you in an attempt to be serious.

“Of course”

Satisfied you turned back to making your coffee, and some for the road. You knew that as active as Jin was at the moment, once on the road he would harass you for a sip. And if there was one thing you could not stand, it was sharing your coffee.

“Hey Y/N, what do you call a sad cup of coffee?” Oh no, here we go again. “Jiiiiiin” you whined, “it’s too early for this, what do you call it?” despite having complained about his bad dad jokes, you secretly enjoyed it when he made them. The jokes were not amazing most times, but seeing him so happy and hearing his laugh was what made them the best jokes you could have ever heard.

“A depresso” bursting out laughing fully at his own joke made you giggle at him. He was adorable, and he was all yours. Fondly gazing at him you shook your head whilst still giggling. His infectious humour was better at brightening your day than any coffee.

“Very funny baby, now let me finish making this coffee so we can leave. You’re the one in a hurry” you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Ah, yes indeed” he rushed to exit the kitchen. Not before turning around to wink at you and blow you a kiss whilst delivering his last one line puncher. “After all, we don’t want to be latte.” You could still hear his laugh even as he reached the other end of the corridor.

“Silly man”

-

Finally with two coffees in tow, you got yourself strapped into the car and waited for Jin to finish shoving into the back of the car what he presented as “top secret and you are not allowed to peek”. So you did your best to not let curiosity get to you and instead closed your eyes in an attempt to get a few more minutes of sleep. As you were drifting off slowly but surely, all you could hear in the background were the constant complaints of your boyfriend arguing with whatever he was trying to fit into the back of the car. And by the way the car was shaking it felt like he was forcing an elephant in there. You smiled gently to yourself, this is what bliss felt like to you. Not those extra minutes of sleep, not the thought of the planned date- which excited you nonetheless, but the knowledge that today was a day where you could spend some time with Jin and listen to him whine, complain, rant, express his love for you, cuddle you and all that in person.

“You alright there love?” you finally decided to check on his well being after another 10 minutes of grumbling.

“Yes, yes. Just trying….to get this thing to…..fit” heaving he let out a triumphal yell. “Done! Now let’s gogogogogo on this exciting road trip!” enthusiastically he opened the car door and jumped in almost hitting you in the face with his arm and whacking his own knee on the wheel of the car. “Oh my gosh, are you ok, did i hit you?” you stifled a giggle, he did not hit you and yet even though he clearly was in pain he made sure to check on you first.

“Jin, i’m fine babe, but clearly you aren’t. Please be more careful” you chided gently reaching over to rub the sore spot on his shin. With a gentle smile he grabbed your hand in his warm one. Despite the chilly air of the morning, he was warm and inviting, his hand on yours instantly heating up your cold ones. “I’m sorry love, I promise i will be” he reached out to cup your cheek with his free hand rubbing your skin and with care as if you were made out of porcelain he brought his soft plump lips to yours in a brief kiss that left you breathless.

“Hey, Y/N?” his lips a breath away from you that made you swear you still felt them on yours, was that wishful thinking? Maybe. “I love you” your eyes skimmed over his features lost in a world of your own and with a suddenly mischievous grin you pulled back from him fastening your seatbelt.

“I love you too, you mocha me very happy”

With an incredulous scoff, Jin fastened his own seatbelt and put the car into drive. “Careful love, you will become worse than me” he warned amusedly, the pride in his voice unmasked. He did love it when you would one up him on his jokes. Sometimes you would make a competition out of it, an unannounced one so that neither of you could have pre prepared comebacks and see who won. Most times you lost miserably, and the times you won you were absolutely certain that Jin went easy on you. He was the fountain of knowledge when it came to puns.

“But Jin, i am worse than you” giggling like idiots, you turned your gaze to the window prepared for the trip ahead. You had no idea where you were going but as long as you were with Seokjin, you would be absolutely fine.

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

“I swear to god Kim Seokjin, you plan a trip in the middle of the night to somewhere, lord knows where, and you don’t even think to consider checking the gas tank????”

As the car slowly sputtered and came to a stop at the end of the road you turned to look at your desperate boyfriend. “Oh nononnononono, this can’t be happening. I was meant to stop at a station as soon as we exited the city” trying to get the car to start again you bit your lip. Maybe it was the fact that you had placed your trust fully in him, or the fact that he was so sure of this trip, or the fact that he had bragged about this trip for a while now but this end you had not foreseen, and so it made it incredibly amusing for you. 30 minutes outside of your own city and the car had run out of fuel. If it weren’t for Jin’s distressed pleas for the car to start up and for you to forgive him for ruining this trip you would have burst out laughing a while back.

Deciding to end his misery you grabbed for his hand, now clammy from stress. “Babe, it’s ok. Let's just get out of the car and try to call someone to check the car out. We ran out of gas, it happens” rubbing your finger over the back of his hand in an attempt to call him you used your other hand to try to look for your phone.

Only to remember that in your hurry you had left without it. Groaning, you did not want to panic Jin more than he was so you did not mention your own phones. Knowing him, he’s forgotten his at home on purpose. On days when he had plans with you, he would make it a point to not spend time on his phone. Thanking your lucky stars you at least had your cards with you and some cash.

“I’m really really really sorry love” Jin gave you a pleading look. Shaking your head you sighed and opened your door. “Come on lover boy, let's get this situation fixed”

A couple of steps into the trek you finally hear the car being locked and the sound of pounding footsteps behind you. You walked in silence for 15 minutes, neither of you knowing what to say. You were decently tired and hungry but more worried about Jin’s state of mind. On the other hand your boyfriend was berating himself for ruining a perfectly planned day and probably making you upset for doing so. Finding the service phone by the side of the road you quickly phoned for someone to come and fix the situation and they informed you it may take a couple of hours to get to you. But it was better than nothing. You would probably miss entirely what Jin’s planned for you but you could always make the most of what you currently had. Now, on the way back to the car you finally sneaked a glance at your own boyfriend.

Catching his own worried gaze you looked away. You were in the middle of almost nowhere, stuck, without a car or food, it was still extremely early, and yet all you could think of was how handsome Jin looked. In the soft morning glow reflected on his skin and his messy hair stuffed under his cap, you realised how lucky you were. Misinterpreting your long stare he bit his lip, “Are you angry?” You did not want to respond to him, not yet at least. If you did you would either burst out in giggles or you would end up trying to comfort him, and you had no time to spare at the moment. Was it mean? Probably but you swore to yourself you would make it up to him. “Love” he kept insisting, “Y/N, are you angry?” Only when you heard the sadness creep into his usual tone of voice did you stop and look at him.

You opened your mouth to reply to him, but he would not allow you to speak yet. Afraid that you would start telling him how awful of a boyfriend he is, gone for long periods of time and when he is finally home he clearly cannot do anything proper, he starts stumbling over his words trying to explain himself to you. “Love, i’m so so so sorry. I did not mean for this to happen. I had the whole thing planned, i was going to take us to the seaside today so we can watch the sunrise and sunset on the beach like you have always wanted, and we were going to enjoy a picnic and a nice dip in the ocean and i was going to take you to the fair at night time so we can ride the ferris wheel and have a romantic kiss at the top and…”

As adorable as you found a rambling Jin, his red cheeks, his lips which were now extremely swollen from how much he bit them, you could not let him torture himself much longer. You were worried he may end up having a self induced anxiety attack. And you definitely were not angry as he seemed to think you would be.

“Love” you tried once, but in his distress he had stopped listening to you. “Jin” and again, finally having had enough you took three strides towards him and placed your hand over his mouth in a gentle attempt to get him to stop talking.

“It is ok. I am not angry. Not by a long shot. I don’t care about sunrises, I don't care about sunsets, I don't care about ferris wheel rides, I don't care about picnics. Seeing the hurt in his eyes you immediately added, “ I don't care about all these things if they don’t happen with you. Plans get ruined, that is why they are plans. We could have spent the whole day in our pjs and had a coffee pun competition whilst playing games and i would have not minded. We could have spent the whole day just literally doing nothing but staying in bed and I would have not minded. The thought of you even just planning to put all this together even when you are so busy is more than enough for me. Please stop apologising about this. I am not mad at all”

Jin reached out delicately and lowered your hand away from his mouth. “But it’s because I've been so busy that I have fucked up immensely. I wanted to do something nice for you to show you how much I care about you. Being away all the time is hard especially when all i want to do is have you there with me all the time but knowing that i can’t.” A strand of your hair had been blown into your face by the wind and he took his time to fix it for you, his hand dropping down onto the hollow of your neck.

“Babe, i would want nothing more than to be able to be with you all the time, but unfortunately we can’t. And you would get sick of me anyways” you laughed gently. Jin was about to protest but you continued. “ You show me everyday how much you care about me, no matter how busy you are you always take your time to talk even if briefly. You always send me cute pictures and pictures of food, which make me really jealous by the way” Jin laughed, his eyes crinkling.

“And when we do actually get to spend time together we have the best of times no matter what we do. Not because we are doing something out of the ordinary but because we are spending time together. If i’m with you i don’t care what we are doing, it’s the best time of my life” You slowly rose on your toes to press your lips to his. Seeing it as an opportunity Jin tightly wrapped your arms around your waist and lifted you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist with a squeal. A kiss that was meant to last a few seconds ended up with you propped against the side of the car wrapped around Jin’s sturdy frame.

“I love you” he whispered once he settled you back on his feet. “So so so much”

Prepared to answer with a confession of your own, you felt your stomach grumble. The moment now interrupted, both of you started cackling. “I love you too babe,” patting his chest, “but you know what I would love more? Some food.”

“We have a bit more to wait until we get this situation fixed” As if a lightbulb had been turned on Jin jerked away from you. “Wait here” running around to the back of the car he opened it and pulled out a cooler and two tumblrs. Ignoring your inquisitive looks he opened the cooler and got out some vanilla ice cream. Reaching out into the boot again he pulled out a pack of fresh strawberries. Laughing you finally understood.

“Milkshakes?” He held both items in his hands proudly.

When you had told him you would give anything in exchange for spending time with him you meant it. Whether the road trip would have been a success in the end, or you just called it a day after you got your car sorted. But just sitting there on the wayside by the car enjoying your makeshift milkshakes and each other’s company was complete perfection to you and you would not have it any other way.

[alyasgf]

Out of The Rain ||Marichat May

All || Previous || Next

Day 1- Rain

Summary-

Chat tried to think of where he could go to get shelter from the rain, and he thought of warmth. He thought of sweet scents and bright smiles. He thought of Marinette.

Word Count- 1327

AO3

Begin

Adrien had to get away. The whole day just felt more and more unbearable. He was supposed to spend it with his friends, but instead last minute he was informed his schedule got filled.

So he spent the day back and forth between tiring tasks. Two photo shoots, 2 hours of fencing, and an hour of Mandarin tutoring later and he was exhausted.

The only bright side he had to his day had been canceled. To make up for missing his day with his friends, his father promised to have dinner with him. But as time ticked on and his food grew cold, Adrien could tell that wasn’t going to happen.

So needless to say, once he retired to his room he immediately transformed and went out into the night.

He didn’t expect much from it, he just needed to feel the wind on his face, stretch his legs, and be free from all the crushing expectations placed on him.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on his side. Just as he was starting to feel better, rain began crashing down on him seemingly out of nowhere.

Something about being transformed made the rain even worse. It came down like icy daggers on his skin.

He couldn’t go home. Back to the prison like walls and overbearing silence.

Chat tried to think of where he could go to get shelter from the rain, and he thought of warmth. He thought of sweet scents and bright smiles. He thought of Marinette.

Her house was only a minute away, and as he navigated the rooftops he grew excited. He had missed spending the day with her and his other friends. This would make up for it perfectly.

Chat Noir landed on her rooftop and nearly slipped with all the rainfall. Her light was still on and he took that as an invitation to knock.

A minute later, out peeled two wide eyes.

“Chat Noir?” She asked confused. Then she looked him up and down, taking in his state.

“Do you mind if I come in?” He gave a small wave and an awkward smile.

“Oh sorry of course! Do you mind waiting another second? I know it’s pouring out there but I don’t want you to track anything onto my bed.”

Chat gave a slight nod and walked over to her umbrella and lounge chair. It provided a bit of shelter from the rain but he was still freezing.

After about 5 minutes Marinette waved him over with a towel in her hands. Chat took it gratefully and tried not to make too much of a mess while he climbed in.

As he jumped to the floor, he noticed the state of her room. There was sewing supplies spread along her desk, as well as school papers. She seemed to be multitasking. She was wearing a white tee with pink and white polka dotted pajama pants. Chat thought she looked adorable but quickly pushed that thought away.

“Sorry it’s such a mess.” She said, trying to clean it up a bit. “I’m just trying to catch up on a few projects and some work.”

“I’m sorry to bother you Marinette. It started raining out of nowhere.” Chat apologized, sitting cross legged on the floor.

“It’s okay. If you don’t mind me asking, why were you out?” Marinette turned to look at him while leaning back onto her desk with a concerned look.

“Uh, patrol?” Chat said it unsure, hoping the girl would believe him.

Her expression said otherwise.

“How about I grab some hot chocolate while you decide whether or not you want to talk about it.” She decided, making her way to the ladder. “Either way I’m here for you Chat. Now, I’ll be right back.”

She left before Chat could protest.

When she came back she handed him a mug and looked at him expectedly. Rather than seeing her usual confident and humorous partner, she instead saw a deflated teenager.

“I don’t want to say too much because it might give away by identity,” he began, “But I can say that life has been a lot lately. Just stressful and disappointing.” Chat took a big gulp of his hot chocolate, feeling a bit better with her company.

Marinette sat down beside him and set her mug to the side before enveloping him in a warm hug.

“You’re gonna get wet.” He mumbled into her shoulder.

“I think I’ll be fine.” She said, pulling away. “What can I do to help, Chat?” She asked this with such care that Chat nearly melted.

“You look busy and I don’t want to distract you-“ Marientte cut him off.

“I’m in no hurry.” She leaned in and combed his hair back into place with her fingers, without thinking. She swore she heard a slight purr.

“I’ll tell you what. I need to do some reading, and you seem to be in need of some physical affection.” Chat blushed as she said this. “I can play with your hair while I read?” She offered.

Chat smiled. “That sounds amazing. Thank you princess.”

Marinette grabbed her book and mug, moved so her back was against the chaise, and patted her lap.

Chat laid his head in it and Marinette stroked it while she read, occasionally stopping to take a sip of her drink.

It was only then that Chat realized how tired he was. He’d been up since 5am doing tiring work, and here he was warm and cuddled up with his best friend.

“Mari?”

“Hm?” She moved her book to look at him.

“Do you mind if I take a nap? I’ve been up all day.”

Marinette smiled fondly. Something about her partner feeling comfortable enough around her to fall asleep hit a soft cord in her heart.

“That’s fine. I’ll wake you up before it gets too late.” She promised. “Are you comfortable enough?”

He nodded. Still, Marinette grabbed the blanket from off her lounge and draped it over him.

Chat sighed and closed his eyes. Marinette watched him for a moment, her chest filling with warmth, before she resumed reading and tangling her fingers through his now dry hair.

She fought to stay awake so that she wouldn’t have to wake Chat to go. He looked so happy, so peaceful, that she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to do it.

She really wanted to take a picture. He looked so beautiful she wished she could put him up on her wall, as though he were straight from a Gabriel magazine, but she decided against it.

Around 3am she could barely keep her eyes open.

“Hey Chat.” She said in a soft voice, moving the hair from his face.

He opened his eyes and yawned. “Yes?” He asked groggily.

He looked so cozy it pained Marinette to take that from him.

“The rain stopped and it’s nearly 4. I’m about to head to bed.”

Chat sighed before sitting up and stretching. He yawned again and rubbed his sleepy eyes.

“Thank you Mari. I think that’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while.”

“You’re welcome Chat. Feel free to come over whenever you feel overwhelmed okay? The last think Paris needs is another stray roaming the streets as night.”

Chat laughed lightly, still waking up. He stood up and began walking over to the trapdoor when Marinette grabbed his wrist. He turned back around.

“I mean it. You make great company.”

Chat blushed and pulled her into a hug.

“Okay I will, I promise. ” He held her for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her body pressed against his, how warm she was, and how she seemed to fit perfectly with him. He pushed the butterflies he began to feel down and pulled away.

“Goodnight Marinette. Sweet dreams.” He climbed onto her bed and shot her one last soft look before leaving.

“Goodnight Chat Noir.” Marinette sighed, hand over her heart as if willing it to slow down.

End Notes-

Happy Marichat May! Here’s the first prompt, rain. Thought we’d start off with some “platonic” comfort. Hope you guys come back for another day!

@marichatmay

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter Six

(I know it's Henry and not Sy in the photo, but it just fit too well with this chapter.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Six starts after the cut. (Chapter Five can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the last chapter or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

I will post a master list soon and put the link in the comments to make it easier to navigate.

Chapter 6

Chapter warnings: Smut, Christmas themes, mentions of therapy, embarrassing moments.

Ada didn't mind being woken up with soft fluttering kisses on her neck. She definitely didn't mind starting the day with the tantalizing rub of his beard on her sensitive skin and the hard press of his torso against her back, their legs entwined and his morning erection nuzzled against her butt.

What she did mind, however, was when any of this happened at the butt crack of dawn. Ada opened her eyes just enough to read 6:50am on the alarm clock.

"Sy," she groaned, stopping his wandering hands with hers, trying to trap them beneath her breasts. "Hold that thought for later, okay?"

She heard him chuckle behind her, his chest vibrating against her body as he freed his hands from her weak grip. "Later is for putting up the Christmas tree and the decorations," he teased, his right hand now drawing circles low on her stomach.

Ada groaned again, wanting to fight his tempting touch but unwilling to move away from his body heat. "I'll get up at 7:30." Those were the last words out of her mouth before she had drifted off again.

When she woke up once more, forty minutes later with the blast of her alarm clock, her back was cold and the smell of breakfast wafted through the air, filling her nostrils. Damn Syverson and his military sleep schedule! She had taken all her days off to spend them with him only to wake up even earlier than when she was working.

With barely open eyes, Ada threw on his shirt that hung on the chair and slowly made her way downstairs, following the scent of pancakes. She found Sy in front of the stove, just finishing up the last one before setting it on the huge pile of pancakes that looked fluffier than clouds. Ada had quickly learnt that while Sy was a disaster when it came to the art of cooking, he was the master of pancakes and barbecue.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he greeted her and then smirked when he noticed her attire.

"Morning captain," she mumbled, walking up to him before patiently waiting until he leant down so that they could share a kiss. It always made him laugh when she did that: the adorable pout on her face when he didn't bend down for a kiss fast enough was worth waiting the extra second every time.

They ate in relative silence, mostly because Ada definitely wasn't a morning person, but the fact that Sy had a habit of stuffing his mouth full of food also played a role. When she was done eating, Ada pushed her plate and glass away, and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs on the chair. She eyed her husband intently, waiting for him to finish eating with a grin on her lips.

"Why are you looking at me like that, darlin'?" Sy asked, eyebrow raised suspiciously before taking the last sip of his morning coffee.

Ada blushed, suddenly looking bashful. "Well… I was hoping we could go back upstairs and continue what you started earlier," she admitted in a tiny voice.

Sy laughed, a booming sound that filled the entire room before a shit-eating grin spread on his lips. "Tough luck, darlin'." He got up from his chair, standing in front of her across the narrow table. "Should have thought about that before falling asleep on me earlier."

Ada's mouth fell open. The cheek on this man! And what made it worse, was his huge smile that made him look like a very amused bear, with his hairy, tempting chest. He was toying with her. "Are you really saying no to sex?" She asked, cocking her brow. Sy wasn't really the type to turn down-

"Yes, no sex." He stated, suddenly looking very serious. "We have to head to the store to buy decorations, then put up the tree and hang the lights outside." Ada tried her best not to laugh. He sounded as if he were explaining a major, life or death, mission to her – not Christmas preparations. "You’re dismissed but I expect you back here in fifteen minutes, dressed and ready to go." With that, he turned around and started gathering the plates and silverware to put them in the dishwasher.

"Yes, sir."

Ada knew better than to talk back. First, when he had something in mind, it was nearly impossible to talk him out of it. Second, she hoped that the sooner they were done with this, the sooner she could get laid. Third, he had used his Captain voice that somehow always managed to make an obedient little soldier out of her.

Though, rationally, she also didn't want to make it any more difficult for him. He had confessed to her a few nights ago why he'd felt so uneasy when they had gone grocery shopping: the gondolas were too tall which led to lots of blind spots and the amount of people meant he couldn't rely on his hearing sense to detect potential danger. 'It just screams ambush,' he told her.

Ada couldn't quite imagine what he must have experienced that a supermarket or a store would translate into danger, but it was not her place to question him. Instead, she had kissed his forehead in bed and offered to start doing their shopping on her own. Sy had promptly refused, suggesting they simply go early in the mornings, when there were less people and less distracting noises.

Now at Target, she was immensely glad she had gotten out of bed, the sight alone was worth it. It wasn't everyday you'd see Sy pick up a bunch of Christmas tree baubles and inspect each one of them carefully before determining which ones were worthy enough to make it to their living room. Ada sneaked a picture for safekeeping and then decided to send it to his mom as well. Family dinner was fast-approaching, and she'd seize all the cookie points she could get.

"Darlin'," Sy called, catching her attention. He was holding up an inflatable Santa who, instead of carrying gifts, dragged a bag full of liquor bottles and sported a drunk grin on his face. It was tacky beyond words. "Do 'you think we should get this, or will it just upset the neighborhood kids?"

Ada grimaced but tried to disguise it with a smile. She’d die before letting that thing on their lawn. “I think a neighborhood dog would tear it to bits within a second," she lied, trying to appear apologetic.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

°°°

The lights were up. It was a much quicker process with Sy's help. It was also the occasion for Ada to just sit back and relax because he was adamant, she shouldn’t step on a ladder to help. Instead, she had a glass of bourbon waiting for him for when he finished. It was 5pm somewhere after all.

"You said we had a tree!" Sy's deep voice reached her from the basement.

Ada threw her head back, sighing, before hurrying downstairs after him. "Yes, it's in that box over there," she pointed at a white cardboard box behind a couple of spare tires.

"Woman, it's tiny!" Sy complained, picking up the box and setting it down between them. It was about as tall as her. It was not that small.

"It's the one I've used every year since I moved in. It's pretty enough and doesn't take up too much space,” she defended.

In front of her, Sy exhaled loudly through his nostrils before rubbing his beard. She knew that move. It's what he did to remind himself she was not a soldier under his command, but his wife, and that he better measure his words unless he wanted to sleep on the sofa.

"Look, darlin'," he said calmly, enclosing her small hands in his much bigger ones. "This is my first Christmas home with my wife. I refuse to put up a minuscule, fake sapling in my home and call it a Christmas tree."

Ada was slightly taken aback. She didn’t know Christmas was this important to him. Though it was true he had been overseas on Christmas the past two years, so she could understand where he was coming from with wanting this Christmas to matter. Besides, it was endearing when he put it like that.

With a nibble on her lip, Ada gave in. "Okay. They're selling trees in that parking lot by the pharmacy."

Sy slowly shook his head, a mischievous look on his face. "No. We're going to get our own pine tree from the woods."

You gotta be kidding me, she groaned internally.  

°°°

Ada had no idea where they were. It hadn’t been that long of a ride, but there were no more houses or streets to be seen around them, just endless fields and a forest. It was only when Sy took a right turn, that she started spotting cars and what looked to be a very colorful barn which had been converted into a cozy boutique.

“Where are we?” She asked, staring out of the window as Sy looked for a place to park his truck.

“The Dallagher’s ranch,” he replied. “They do a corn maze and a pumpkin patch in the Fall, and in the Winter, you can pick up your own Christmas tree. My dad used to take Claire and I here every year.”

Oh… This was a family tradition. No wonder Sy made such a big deal about having a real tree for Christmas.

Once out of the car, they walked hand in hand through the dirt road until they reached the makeshift counter made of hay where you could get a handcart before heading out into the man-made pine forest and select a Christmas tree. Most people she saw, however, were already returning the handcarts and happily carrying their trees to their parked cars.

The old man by the cash register seemed to recognize Sy instantly, smiling warmly as he greeted him with a one-armed hug. Ada realized it was the ranch’s owner. “I haven’t seen you in years, Jack!” The old man exclaimed with a laugh before turning to Ada. “And who’s this pretty lady?”

“This is Ada, my wife,” Sy said, introducing them. He watched with amusement as Ada stumbled as the old man hugged her without a warning, taking her by surprise.

“Well, it’s great to meet you, Ada,” the man nodded once he had retreated, and then turned back to Sy. “Should I be offended I wasn’t invited to the wedding?” He teased.

Sy was already wrapping his arm around her shoulders, chuckling. “To be honest, Dallagher, there were no guests at the wedding,” he replied, amused at the way the old man frowned in a confused manner at that piece of information. “Actually, we came here to get a tree.”

“Of course!” Dallagher immediately turned and ordered the young boy in overalls to fetch them a handcart. “What size did you have in mind?”

“Something around seven feet,” Sy said, looking pensive as Ada looked up at him suspiciously, trying to figure out how much seven feet converted to in the metric system. Once she’d done the math, she pulled at Sy’s flannel sleeve to protest – that was way too big, it’d take up the whole living room – but the Dallagher’s grandson was already handing them the cart and leading them to the entrance.

“Trees that big are at the very back of the forest, you’ll have to walk a little.”

This turned out to be quite an understatement. Ada felt like they had been walking for literal years. While they had still come across other people at the beginning, mostly families, they were on their own now – that is if you didn’t count the many squirrels that kept appearing out of nowhere.

She stopped, grabbing the back of Sy’s red tartan shirt so he would be forced to pause as well. “Can’t we just take one of these?” Ads suggested, gesturing at the countless trees all around them. They were all pretty enough and considerably taller than her.

Sy huffed, biting his lip in amusement as he looked at her dispirited face. He’d told her she should probably get changed and wear more comfortable shoes before they left home, but she had insisted she wasn’t going to change clothes just to get a goddamn tree. “These are only around six feet, darlin’. And,” he paused, eyeing the trees more closely, “they’re not Nordmann firs. I want a Nordmann.”

Ada sighed defeatedly, but nodded all the same, starting to walk again when Sy took pity on her. “Do you want to sit on the handcart?”

The change on his wife’s face was instant, the frown lifting into a smile as she climbed on the cart and sat down in the middle, evening out her weight for him. “Is that better, darlin?” He asked teasingly.

She turned her head back just to make sure he saw her rolling her eyes.

By the time they reached an area with Nordmann trees that Sy considered nice and big enough, her butt was sore from the conjunction of the hard, wooden surface and the uneven ground. She wasn’t even sure she had made the better call or whether it would have been better to suffer in her new ankle boots instead.

“Which one is better?” Sy asked, pointing at two pine trees that looked virtually identical to her.

Ada shrugged, almost saying that he should choose before realizing how much time that would take. The man wasn’t picky about food, bedlinen or even the pillow he slept with, but apparently, he had to make sure he brought home the most perfect tree. She still couldn’t wrap her head around that. “The left one,” she said finally.

“Which one? Your left or my left?”

Breathing in deeply, she decided to just point at the tree she was talking about. Sy nodded thoughtfully and grabbed the saw he had brought with him and started to work on the tree. While she had been most eager to get this whole thing over with, it became an entirely different story now as she dreamily stared at her husband getting to work.

With most of his back facing her and one knee on the forest’s soft ground as he started sawing off the Nordmann fin, Sy looked absolutely delicious. The red flannel shirt unbuttoned over his white t-shirt and the jeans made him perfect sight with anyone with a lumberjack fantasy. Ada had never considered herself as having such a kink. A uniformed soldier, or even better, a captain? Hell yes. A strong, rugged husband capable of her breaking her in half? Also a big yes. A lumberjack? The thought had never crossed her mind in the past but there was no point in denying it now as she sat back on the wooden cart, watching Sy carefully saw down the giant tree.

She was wet. Horny. Aroused. You name it. It also didn’t help that they hadn’t had sex that day. Yet.

"Sy," she whined, just loud enough to get his attention, while swinging her legs in the air like a child.

"I'm almost done, darlin'," Sy responded, not bothering to turn around to look at her. "I want a nice, clean cut."

Yeah, and she want a nice, dirty fuck. Pouting, she watched him for a couple more seconds as he knelt in front of the base of the tree, deciding from which side he should bring the saw to the trunk next in order to make it even.

That was when Ada decided she was tired of waiting. Shuffling quietly, she slipped off her wet panties from under her dress and rolled them into a small ball before throwing it at her husband. It hit his left shoulder and rolled down his chest. Grinning wickedly, she leaned back on her shoulders and enjoyed the view, the muscles on his back shifting as he picked up the garment off the ground. If this didn't get her laid, nothing else would.

"Ada Metz Syverson," Sy groaned out her full name slowly, his voice even deeper than usual. He got back up on his feet and turned to face her, looking stern.

Suddenly she didn't feel so brave anymore, not when he had crossed the distance to her in two determined strides and went to tower over her small, sitting frame. His jaw was set, and his eyes were a darker shade of blue than usual. Ada moved her eyes down his body, her eyes pausing at the defined pectorals on his chest before sliding lower. He was definitely hard, the bulge on his jeans prominent.

"Just remember you asked for this."

She wanted to ask what this was supposed to be, but he didn’t give her the chance. “Legs,” he ordered, patting his shoulder as he came to stand just inches away from her. Almost unconsciously, she obeyed his order, her ankles coming to rest on the front of his shoulders, her feet framing his neck. “That’s a good girl,” he praised her with a quick kiss to her right calf before his large hands moved to the front of his jeans, just over the protruding tent and began undoing the belt and snap.

From this angle, Sy’s cock looked even bigger, the shiny glans flushed a deep pink. Ada swallowed tightly, her legs already shaking with anticipation and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Pumping his shaft with his right hand, Sy brought his left one to her core, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over clit once or twice before sliding it between her folds. She was a dripping mess. Sy smirked when she keened eagerly at his touch, enjoying his ministrations until he pulled his hand away and brought it to his mouth, licking off her slick. “It’s good you’re so wet already because I just can’t wait to take you, darlin’.”

He wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t wait. The next thing he did, was grabbing hold of his throbbing, hard cock and guiding himself into her. Ada moaned loudly at the intrusion, drowning out Sy’s own growl as her walls clenched around his cock, trying to get used to the abruptness and depth of the penetration.

“Fuck, Sy!” She cried out, not even sure what it was she wanted. “Don’t stop,” was all she could muster as he ploughed into her like there was no tomorrow, hitting her pleasure all at once.

He knew they were being too loud. They might be alone, but they were still out in the open air, and yet he just couldn’t find it in himself to care – not when she felt this good around his cock and her noises only heightened his fervor. If someone happened to stumble upon them, then they’d simply be in for a premium show,

It wasn’t long until her legs started shaking almost uncontrollably up in the air, prompting him to remove one hand from his steely grip on her hip and wrap his arms around her legs to keep them steady as he continued with jackhammer thrusts. “Are you going to cum for me, darlin’?” Sy panted, groaning out the question between clenched teeth even though he already knew the answer.

Ada didn’t manage to reply, the first waves of her orgasm already coursing through her when she moaned his name. Her hips canted up, her body tensed up like a bolt, and Sy knew he was done for right then. Her warm walls squeezed him impossibly tight inside of her, milking the cum right out of his cock while he fought to keep his balance as pleasure overtook him.

They came down from their heights slowly, chests heaving. Sy lazily removed her legs from his shoulders, massaging the strained muscles on her inner thighs before he set her legs down. This woman would be the end of him. “That was…” he panted, bending forward over her body to kiss her forehead, unable to find a proper adjective to describe what had just happened.

“Yeah,” Ada breathed out, nodding slowly.

Sy ended up having to carry her and the tree on the cart back to his truck because there was no way she was able to walk straight after that.

°°°

They finished decorating the giant tree. Ada had to admit it looked pretty although the red and gold decorations clashed with the color theme of their living room. She handed Sy the newly purchased baubles one by one – he was the only one capable of reaching the top.

On their way back home, she had somehow managed to convince Sy to stop at the therapist’s office – the one she had found had the highest ratings on Google. They had booked the first available appointment, which was just after the New Year and Sy had made it very clear to their secretary it was just a ‘testing appointment’ and that there was no need to set aside time slots for follow-up sessions yet because there was no guarantee he’d be back. His reluctance was palpable, but Ada was glad he was giving it a try at least. And if he didn’t like, then they’d figure out something else.

In the background, their wedding video kept playing and she wondered for how much longer she'd have to hear the sound of camera flashes as the chapel assistant took way too many photos of them in the most cliché poses you could imagine. Sy has insisted they put on their wedding video since they’d never gotten around to watch it and it fit the season, according to him. Slowly, the annoying sounds began fading away and Ada sighed with relief. Watching herself on TV sparked too much embarrassment in her.

"Hand me the big one with Rudolph, will you, darlin'," Sy asked from behind her, still meticulously decorating the tree.

Ada nodded, searching for the bauble he had in mind. It was still in the shopping bag, she remembered, lifting it off the floor to dig inside it.

Ada froze as a female chuckle was heard, unconsciously gripping the glass ornament too tightly in her hand. "Not that fast, Captain."

Behind her, Sy frowned. "What did you say?"

"Tonight, I'm in charge," she heard her own voice say - no, it was more like a purr.

"Shit!" Ada cursed loudly, letting the bauble fall back inside the bag and she hurried to the TV, her worst fear confirmed.

Sy followed her quickly, stopping just behind her, his hands on her shoulders. "Is that from our wedding night?" He asked slowly, his eyes locked on the screen as he watched his younger self being tied up to the bedposts by his wife.

"Yes," Ada cringed, her face a painful grimace. "I didn't even remember the sex tape."

"Me neither," Sy swallowed loudly, admittedly rapidly becoming aroused at the sight of his Ada doing a striptease on camera. She wore that red ensemble with the garter belt.

"I think the assistant never really ended the video after our wedding, only paused it and we later continued filming in the hotel instead of starting a new video," Ada commented, now understanding what had happened. How they’d even came up with the idea of filming a sex tape on their wedding night, she didn't know. Alcohol had probably played a part in it.

Sy was still staring in awe at the TV, enthralled by the sight of his wife deviously edging him, her hips swaying slowly, when her words slowly registered in his head. "Didn't we send copies of the video to our families?" He stammered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and hesitant.

Silence fell between them as they both realized they had been dumb enough to send copies before watching it themselves. "Fuck!" Ada barked, seizing the remote to pause the video. "We sent that to my parents, your parents, your sister...," she listed, her face losing all color.

Suddenly, the sound of Sy's deep laughter filled her ears. She turned to him, aghast. How could he find this funny? This was peak cringe! She’d be one needing therapy after this!

"You know, darlin', watching this video was the first time my parents ever saw their daughter-in-law, before even meeting you in person." Sy explained, shaking his head with amusement.

Ada was mortified. No wonder Mr. Syverson had seemed on the verge of laughter the first time they'd met and Helen had given her the side eye. The woman had a USB stick in her home with an hour-long video of Ada fucking her son. "You know, Sy, this wedding video is also the first thing my parents saw of you." He stopped laughing abruptly, his face red, all amusement gone.

They both sat down on the couch next to each other, slowly coming to terms with the fact that pretty much their whole families had seen this, and never said anything, probably keeping it as an inside joke.

Sy broke the silence, his large hand reaching to rub her naked thigh. "You know, I don't think we should be embarrassed," he said, prompting her to stare back up at him, eyebrow raised dubiously. "The way you tied up my arms really enhanced my biceps and you looked adorably hot like a vicious kitten from hell."

°°°

@colourmeinblue​ @hail-horror-queen​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl​ @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​ @rn7rocks​ 

[thewatermelloncat]

Backstage (Rosénali CH 5)

CH1, CH2, CH3, CH4

Summary: With rehearsals for the school production underway, family matters come into play. Maybe Denali says something that she shouldn’t.

Boarding School AU

Kinda Pastel/Punk AU

Author’s Note: Be on the look out for links to extra stories within the chapters.

Warnings: None

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

Circus.

That was the word on everyone’s mind after the theme for the school production had been announced.

The few short weeks before term break had been chaotic, masses of auditions and call backs following only days after the release of the script. And then it had all faded into nothing as the break rolled around and people moved off home to spend time with their families. Though the nerves of what part they would get still stuck with them.

There was only so much playing video games could do to distract Denali from worrying over her future placement in the cast. And having not gone home for the break, Rosé threw herself into picking up extra shifts at the diner. Trying to avoid the lonely hallways of the empty school where her mind would quickly play over all the things she could have done better in her audition.

Still, they found solace in texting each other most days. Sometimes sending a distress signal through the line when they got too in their head about their auditions, in turn for the other would reassure them that it would all be fine in the end. And that was enough to tie them through until the last day of term break.

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

Denali and Mik’s room is a mess of unorganised clothes and partially empty suitcases as the two of them are helped by Rosé in unpacking.

“Denali, you have too many pairs of socks” Rosé states as she shoves a draw full of them closed.

“It’s getting close to winter, what happens if I need to double up?” Denali defends before the door to the room is thrown open.

“Casting list is up!” Liv bursts into the room.

Almost immediately Denali and Mik who had been crouched by their suitcases are on their feet.

“Have you looked yet?” Denali asks.

“No, came to get you guys first.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Mik prompts before abandoning task and rushing them out the door.

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

The whole surrounding is crowded, a mix of people jumping in excitement and a few pissed off faces. Gradually the four of them make their way closer to the sheet hung on the noticeboard.

“I got it!” Denali exclaims as she jumps back to the group through the crowd in victory. Having ducked under a few arms to see the sheet: finding her name listed as part of the main dance troupe and next to the roller-skate solo.

“Gorge, of course you got the solo” Mik says. “You’re basically the only one who can stand up in skates.”

“No one would even come close to you” Liv agrees as she follows Mik further through the crowd.

Rosé smiles at Denali from next to her but doesn’t make to follow the other two.

“What’s wrong? You not wanna know what you got?” Denali asks her.

“Nervous” is all Rosé says.

“Come on” Denali nods her head to the papers on the board and takes Rosé by the hand. “I’ll check with you.”

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

Denali doesn’t let go of Rosé’s hand as they search for her name. After a few tense seconds Rosé sighs in relief and takes a small step back. Soon afterward Denali finds her name listed next to the lead role as the ringleader.

“Congratulations” Denali squeezes her hand and smiles up at her.

Rosé breathes deeply before she smiles and squeezes Denali’s hand back.

“That’s two years in a row, girl!” Mik exclaims after finding Rosé’s name.

“What about you?” Rosé asks.

“I don’t know, I haven’t found it yet” Mik says.

“Hold on, I’ll help” Denali says, letting go of Rosé’s hand and joining Mik in regaining her search.

While scouring the list of names, Denali overhears Rosé talking to Olivia.

“Hey, I’m sorry” Rosé says as she steps closer to her. “I know you really wanted that part.”

“Everyone wanted that part” Liv reminds her. “But congratulations, you deserve it. Your audition was killer.”

Rosé smirks as she leans down closer to her ear. “You can always pull some showgirl shit and throw some marbles – you’re pretty much my understudy.”

Liv laughs and for a moment the jealousy she feels disappears. “I’ll just show you up on stage.”

“Bring it” Rosé nudges her with an elbow. “I love some competition.”

Liv opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by Mik’s exclamation.

“Yes! I get to be a clown!”

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

“I’m so glad I don’t have to memorise any lines” Denali says picking up the script from Rosé’s desk.

“Haha” Rosé drones sarcastically, half asleep from on top of her bed.

Denali flips through a couple of pages. “How far have you gotten?”

Rosé hums as she tries to properly calculate the percentage but gives up and instead answers, “most of it.”

“I confess, I had my doubts… But this is a triumph. Well done ma’am” Denali prompts her with a line from the script. Playing up a proper voice, teasingly.

“Shut up” Rosé groans throwing a pair of balled up socks at her shoulder. “Wake me up in half an hour if my alarm doesn’t go off” she says hitting a button on her phone before rolling over to face the wall.

Denali smiles as she picks up the socks that had fallen to the floor. She knows better than to throw them back at Rosé, lest she wake her up more when she needs to sleep.

The school had thrown them all into rehearsals as soon as the casting list had been put up, and they’d been thrown in hard. None harder than Rosé in her leading role. Add onto her hectic school schedule with night shifts at the diner, and she’s been nearly falling asleep in every one of her classes for the last week. Still, she manages to make it work though Denali has no idea how she does it.

Almost within seconds Rosé’s breathing evens out as sleep takes her, and Denali quietly stands from the chair to put the socks back on her set of draws. Internally wincing as the chair creaks when she sits back down in it but Rosé doesn’t even stir.

Denali smiles again, this time at the peacefulness of the room. Much the opposite of her own now days with Mik having been put in charge of the make up for the production. Since then, she’s taken to hanging out in Rosé’s room more often now that her own was littered with eyeshadow pallets and make up brushes on almost every surface.

With nothing much to occupy her time, she picks up the script again and reads through it. Skimming over the notes Rosé has written in neat cursive in the margins, and feeling a swelling of pride at the stage directions for her dance numbers.

Her finger traces over Mik’s sole line she has in the script – one that she always jokes that she’ll forget – when the buzzing of an alarm goes off.

“Hey, no!” she warns pointedly, seeing Rosé’s arm move out blindly to whack snooze.

“Five more minutes” Rosé groans into her pillow.

“No” Denali says as she moves over to the bed. “Anything longer than 30 minutes just makes it worse.”

She shakes once at Rosé’s shoulder, earning an exaggerated groan, but it works as Rosé pushes herself up with a yawn. As she stretches out her arms Denali turns around to grab her hairbrush to throw to her.

Rosé misses catching it but it falls on her lap before she picks it up, flashing Denali half a smile as she untangles her hair.

“How late are you working tonight?”

Rosé scrunches her nose in a contemplative manner. “Got a double shift, so probably get back at 1:00 or 2:00.”

“Shit, Rosie” Denali sighs.

Rosé hums dismissively as she puts down her hairbrush and moves over to pack her uniform. “But then I don’t work again until the weekend, so…” she trails off as she zips up her bag and grabs her shoes from the floor.

“Hey, uh… they’re giving the tickets out to us tomorrow” Denali hesitantly changes the subject to one she’d been thinking over for a while. “Are you going to invite your parents?”

Rosé freezes as she sits on her bed, her expression going blank as her shoes drop to the floor. “Haven’t thought about it” she says a few seconds later, moving to shove her feet into her shoes like she hadn’t frozen in the first place.

“Do you think you will?”

This time it takes even longer for Rosé to reply, and she tightens her shoelaces a little too aggressively. “I don’t know.”

Denali picks up on the hint but for a reason beyond her, she ignores it. “I think it would be nice for them to see what you’re doing.”

Though the words were spoken innocently, they still sting slightly at something inside Rosé and she holds her breath for a second, waiting to ride the feeling out.

“I’ll think about it” rosé dismisses a little irritably as she stands and shoulders her bag, before making the excuse. “I have to go.”

And she does. Leaving Denali standing in an empty room trying to forget how the door had slammed on her way out.

CH6

[cheeriecherry]

Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi} [6/9]

EraserMic x Reader

Part 6/9

Warnings: none, a little fluff, some suggestive themes but nothing explicit

The next few days pass both quickly and slowly. Every time you look at the clock, mere minutes have passed since the last time, but when you spend your afternoons planning alongside other pros, it’s so fast-paced you can barely keep up.

Shouta and Hizashi made true on their words, calling in personal favours and putting together a capable team of trusted heroes. You supply them with as much information as you can, about Oracle’s visions as well as how Akuma works. By the end of the week, you’ve got an ambush plan in place.

You’ll be the one luring the villain out into the open, since you’re her prime target. You also know that she won’t show herself unless she has a clear getaway, so unfortunately the street where she attacks you has to stay open to the public. But with Shouta on standby in the vicinity, there shouldn’t be any casualties.

Hizashi and a couple others will be nearby, ready to add some extra hands to the fight if necessary, but if everything goes accordingly then Akuma should be in quirk-nullifying handcuffs in under a minute. Then she’ll be brought into custody, and she’ll be out of your life for good.

Still, you’re on edge. Akuma was well known in the underground for being clever and wily. There was always the possibility that something could go awry, in any way, shape, or form. For instance, if one of your team mates got caught in her tar, the whole plan would go to shit.

You sigh deeply and lean back in your deck chair, staring up at the afternoon sky. The closer you got to your supposed death, the more you felt like you were going to fall prey to it, like Oracle said people did. It felt like fate was swallowing you up, ready to consume you whole.

You have to want to come out of this, they’d said, but you were tired. So tired. Exhausted after years and years of horrific sights and fears. You knew you didn’t want to die, but…

“Is that the same thing as wanting to live…?” you ask yourself, not expecting an answer. Would not wanting to die be enough to free you from Akuma, should she catch you? Or was everything for naught, simply because you were having a hard time? What if all you were doing was walking straight into your own death?

You pinch your eyes shut when the sun becomes too bright to bear. Maybe you should have listened to Hizashi while you’d still had the chance; turned tail and run far away from Akuma, and kept running, and running, and running, and never stopping, never living, never slowing down. Ever.

“What is life without experiences,” you mumble, “if not sadness, if not laughter, if not love…”

Running would mean you’d be alive, but not living. Death meant you would be neither. But which was the worse choice, and for whom?

You just wished you had more time-

You pause, blinking your eyes open in surprise. I’m talking as if I know I’m going to die. Have I seriously condemned myself to this fate?

You frown. There’s hope. There has to be. Even if Akuma catches me, there’s hope…

Until there isn’t.

“Shut up,” you tell yourself, in an attempt to quell your cynical inner voice.

How do I fight without hope? Keep moving forward without hope?

Tears bud behind your eyelashes, though not from the brightness of the sky. You sniffle a little, trying to blink them away, but it’s mere seconds before they’re rolling down your cheeks in tidy little streams. Your body trembles with silent sobs, and you curl yourself tighter into a ball. When was the last time you’d even felt hope?

Hell, when was the last time you’d felt happy?

You let yourself cry for a few minutes, allowing your feelings to run their course and dissipate naturally, like your therapist had suggested you do. When your breathing begins to even out, and your thoughts begin to form again, you wipe your eyes.

When did I last feel hope?

“Coming home,” you whisper, “Seeing Shouta and Hizashi in the airport. Seeing them smile. Feeling safe in their arms. Sleeping a full night beside them, without any nightmares. Having them support me, and stand by me, no matter what.”

And imagining the future the three of us could have. Teaching, loving, living. Maybe getting married? Having a family?

It dawns on you then, a blinding revelation. If you found it hard to have hope and fight for yourself, then maybe you could do it for other people. For their hopes, their lives, their families. Protect them, and stay strong for them, until you found the strength to do it for yourself.

You’d survive, you decide. You’d come out of this for Shouta and Hizashi, for their love and their light, because you knew that with them you’d find hope, and a future, and all three of you were willing to fight for it.

----

Your boyfriends arrive home on schedule, to find the dinner table set and you bringing food out to it. Both of them watch you for a moment, taking note of the skip in your step and the smile on your face.

You greet them happily when you see them in the doorway, coming over to give them both a kiss. Shouta returns his gently, which Hizashi captures you in a hug and peppers smooches all over your cheek.

“Now this is a nice treat to come home to,” the blond says, finding a seat at the table. He at least has the manners to wait until everyone else is sitting before piling food onto his plate. “What’s the occasion, sweetheart?”

You shrug and shake your head, scooping a few things onto your own dish. “No occasion. I’m just...feeling good. Better than I have in a while, actually.”

Shouta gives you one of his rare smiles. “That’s good to hear,” he says, “what changed?”

“Dunno,” you reply. “Well, sort of. Something Oracle had said got me to think.”

“Oh?”

“‘If people don’t want to live, then fate will eat them right up’.”

“They said that?” Hizashi asks around a mouthful of dinner.

“I’m paraphrasing,” you tell him. “My point is… I have a lot of shit I need to deal with, a lot of baggage I need to unpack, and two weeks isn’t enough time to do that. So until I can find the means to be strong and hopeful for me, I’ve decided that I’m going to do it for you. To protect your futures, your lives, your hearts, all of it. Even if I don’t have hope now, I know that it’ll come back. I just need to work at it, and be patient.”

By the time you finish your little tangent, Hizashi’s eyes have gotten misty, and Shouta’s have an ill-hidden glint of pride. You reach out slowly towards them, and take one of their hands in both of yours.

“I love you both so much, you know? So much. I always have. And no one is going to take that away from me.”

----

You’re staring at the ceiling, the dark, dark ceiling, as the clock ticks past two. Shouta and HIzashi are laid on either side of you, wedging you comfortably between them. They’re both fast asleep, if their even breaths and quiet snores are anything to go by. Oh, how you envied them.

Instead, though, you’re awake. Very awake, counting the tiles above you for the fourth time. Your earlier pleasant mood has all but vanished, leaving you riddled with your more common anxiety and restlessness.

Careful not to wake your boyfriends, you shimmy out of bed and sneak into the living room, where you then slip outside onto the back deck.

Your intention was to find a cozy spot and watch the city lights in the sky for a while, but instead you find a familiar hooded figure hunkered down on one of the chairs, curled up tightly and looking extremely small.

You take a seat beside them, keeping your eyes trained on them while they catch their breath. Their shoulders are stiff, and their nails are biting into their palms from being curled into such tight fists. You know they wouldn’t have sought you out if they didn’t want to talk, but you still decide not to push them into conversation.

It takes a few minutes for them to speak, breaking the comfortable silence amassed between you.

“I keep seeing people dying,” they mumble, tucking their knees closer to their chest.

“That’s how your quirk works, isn’t it?”

They nod. “Yeah, but I mean specifically next week. Every time I warn someone, it seems like there’s two more visions that need sorting.”

“It sounds tiring,” you admit. “It must be exhausting having other people’s fates in your hands.”

Oracle sighs. They push their hood off and let it flop around their shoulders, finally letting you see their mop of dark hair. They haven’t got their usual mask on tonight either, and you’re sure that you can count a couple freckles splattered across tawny cheeks.

“It is,” they tell you, “not just the mental and emotional toll, but the physical, too. I have seizures every time I have a vision, y’know? I have medication that stops them, but...it also stops the visions.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. You’re genuinely shocked that a quirk could have such an expensive side effect on someone, especially a literal kid. 

“Maybe you should take your medication-”

“Not until I have another way to help people!” Their tone is sharp, but they look abashed as soon as the words leave their mouth. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine, kid. I get it.” And you do. All throughout your life, you wanted nothing more than to do good and make a difference in people’s lives, no matter the personal cost. “But...it’s important to take care of yourself too, okay? Otherwise you’ll end up...well, like me.”

They pout at your words, and it looks like they want to make a sarcastic quip, but they decide against it and the two of you lull into silence. It lasts almost ten minutes this time, and for a minute you wonder if Oracle has fallen asleep.

But when you glance over at them, they’re staring at the dark cloudy sky.

“Is...is there any way you can move Akuma’s ambush to a more secluded area?” they ask, voice so quiet you can barely hear them. “Or close the street off?”

“I’m sorry, kid,” your shoulders fall and you cast your eyes downward. “If I could, I would. But this is the only time we know for certain where she’s gonna be. We can’t risk throwing that away. Not for my safety, not for the public’s safety.” Your voice is small and bitter when you utter your next words, “As much I hate to have that mentality, catching her now will save more people in the long run.”

You can feel Oracle’s annoyance bubbling off them, even from several feet away, and quite frankly you don’t blame them. It was an unfortunate way of thinking you’d had to adopt while you were undercover, to keep yourself from trying to save everyone. It was one of the most difficult things you’d ever had to learn, forcing yourself to put your mission and future lives ahead of the currently-suffering.

Every time you’d watched your superiors kill an innocent person, you’d silently promised them that they wouldn’t die for nothing. But it still drove you crazy.

“That’s a stupid way to think,” Oracle hisses.

“I know.”

“People matter. No matter how small their lives may seem, how insignificant, they matter.”

“I know.”

“So if you can’t change the ambush, then I want in on it. I know who I’m looking for. I can find them, and get them out of the area safely.”

You groan inwardly and let your head fall forward. “Kid, I can’t legally allow you to do that-”

“Y/N, please!”

“I said legally.”

They bite their tongue and quiet down, catching onto your plan quickly. You explain to them how the ambush is going to work, letting them know where everyone would be and what roles they’d all play. Oracle winces a little when they realize you’re basically the bait for the whole operation, but you assure them that you’re in good hands. You trust the people you’re working with, and you trust your boyfriends.

“Don’t wear your vigilante uniform either, you’ll be too easily spotted. But make sure you bring a mask in your pocket to protect your identity.”

They nod enthusiastically, hanging on your every word. You emphasize the fact that they need to stay out from underfoot, lest they interfere with the plan you’ve set in place. “And once all your visions are dealt with, you get out of there. You don’t stick around to try and help more people. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am!”

You roll your eyes at their childish demeanor, and silently wonder if you’ve made the right choice in letting them help, or if you’d just sentenced a kid to their demise.

A shiver wracks your body and draws you out of your thoughts, and you’re suddenly very aware that you’re only in thin shorts and a tank top.

“You should go inside,” Oracle says, standing up. “Wouldn’t want you getting sick. Besides, it’s almost three, and I have class at eight. I should go home before my dad scolds me.”

Your heart aches for them, for the stress they have bearing down on such young shoulders.

You stand up beside them, stretch, and shiver again. “What are you studying for?” you ask before they leave, hiding a smile when their face lights up.

“I’m gonna be an EMT!” they declare proudly. “I’ve always wanted to help people, even before I knew what to do with my quirk. I figured that since I work well under pressure, a high stress job would be suitable.”

You smile fondly at them, feeling some kind of almost-parental affection. “Keep working at it, then, and I’m sure you’ll get there. You’re a smart kid.”

They grin back at you with a cheeky expression. “The day that ‘Oracle’ disappears is the day you’d better watch out for me on the scene! I’ll be there, in the background.”

You bid your goodnights to each other after that, and you wait until they’re out of sight before walking back into the warmth of the house.

When you get in, you’re somehow unsurprised to find Shouta waiting for you on the couch. His expression and posture are both relaxed and neutral, but you can tell there’s something on his mind.

“How much did you hear?” you ask sheepishly.

“Enough,” he says. “You’re letting a vigilante help? Do you even know them?”

You take a seat beside him on the couch, falling sideways to cuddle up on his chest. He tosses an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and holding you safe.

“They’re the one who gave us this opportunity in the first place,” you chide, “without them, I’d be dead and you’d be getting a solemn phonecall about it. Besides, they would’ve shown up anyways. At least this way, they can stay out from under our feet.”

Shouta sighs deeply, a low rumble you feel against your body. His arm tightens around you ever so slightly, and you glance up at him.

“What’re you thinking about?” you wonder, reaching up to curl a few strands of his hair around your fingers.

“Oracle. They just...remind me a lot of my students, is all.”

“How so?”

“Young and naive, determined to the point of stupidity-” 

You snicker quietly.

“-but hopeful, and filled with potential. Granted they have a good guiding hand.”

You stretch up and lay a couple soft kisses along his jaw. “You’re students are lucky to have you,” you tell him honestly. “As am I.”

You lay there for a few more minutes, sharing idle thoughts and sweet kisses, simply enjoying each other’s company. You know he’s worried about the fight to come, about your survival, as well as the people caught in the crossfire. You know he’d never say any of it out loud, but you can feel it in the tension he carries.

Hoping to ease him a little, you deepen your kisses, moving your lips slowly and sensually, teasing him with the tip of your tongue. He makes a noise low in his throat, and before you know it he’s flipped your positions, caging you in beneath him.

You whine as he mouths along your jaw and throat, squirming a little against the weight of his body as his hands slip under your shirt to knead at your chest. His lips trail further and further downwards, and you eagerly press up against him, moving around so his thigh comes to rest between your legs. But just as you’re ready to fully submit to him, he pauses.

“The things I’d love to do to you,” he mutters, and pulls back. You make a noise of protest, wriggling a little to try and reestablish the delicious attention he’d been giving you.

He shushes you with a kiss.”Behave,” he tells you firmly, a thinly veiled order that only serves to spark your arousal. “You’re exhausted, Y/N. As much as I’d love to have my way with you, you can barely keep your eyes open.”

You hate to admit it in such circumstances, but you know he’s right. You feel heavy and hazy, and not just from his earlier ministrations.

He gives one last kiss to the crown of your head, and rolls off you, pulling you to your feet alongside him. You wander back to bed together, smiling when you find Hizashi still out cold, and slip quietly back under the covers.

You fade into sleep to the sound of soft goodnights.

----

You’re alone the next morning when you wake, as per usual. You vaguely recall your boyfriends kiss you good morning and then goodbye, but you had still been mostly asleep then.

You’re pretty certain you’d had some unsettling dreams, no different than usual, but it shocked you how quickly you’d gotten used to not having them. A couple good days in a row, and you were left quaking by the return of your nightmares.

There was the familiar imagery of your past, of course, it was something you dreamt of often. But alongside those thoughts were worries and fears of your future. At this point, you had less than a week until Akuma’s attack, and your nerves were starting to get the better of you.

Despite your earlier enthusiasm about ‘staying strong for other people’, you’re once again finding it difficult to imagine a happy outcome. Your therapist had mentioned you’d have high points and low points in your recovery, and that you couldn’t force yourself to feel or not feel either of them. But what if you were in a low point during the attack? What if you got caught and you couldn’t find the strength that day to get out?

What if ‘being in a low spot’ meant you’d die?

You grumble and pinch your eyes shut, rolling over in bed, but it’s too bright and you’re too alert now to fall back asleep.

Maybe you’d feel better if you did something today. You knew your schedule was clear for the afternoon, not having a therapy session until tomorrow. Maybe you could try and brave the mall again…

You weren’t sure if you’d be able to cope, should you get anxious, but a little piece of you really really wanted to try. Plus, you were running out of clothes to wear, and you’d already done the laundry twice.

Maybe you could get something for your boys, too…

----

The mall is less busy than the last time you’d ventured out, which you’re grateful for. Fewer people overall, and a quieter atmosphere made it a little easier to handle, but you still had a pair of Hizashi’s fancy headphones tucked away in case you needed some quiet.

You wander in and out of several stores, perusing the clothes and trying a few things on. You end up putting most of it back on the shelves, but you manage to find two or three things in every store you visit. It’s a substantial haul when all is said and done, and your arms are loaded with bags.

In the past, you would have smacked yourself on the back of the head for spending so much money in one sitting, but with the paycheck you’d gotten for your time undercover, you could afford to go a little overboard.

At least the commission hadn’t been stingy on it’s compensation, for all the shit you had to deal with now.

You set your purchases down on an empty bench and sort your clothes into just a few bags, so it would be easier to carry home. Part of you cringes when you look at the receipts, but you quickly shove them away. Out of sight, out of mind.

Then, just when you’re about to pack up and leave, a blindingly pink store catches your eye. Oh.

Well, you had wanted to get something for Hizashi and Shouta...and thinking back to the previous night, when Shouta’d had his hands up your shirt, you know that both of them would appreciate something like that.

So you wander into the lingerie shop, growing shy as you wander around the racks and look at all the options. You didn’t want something too difficult to remove, even though all the strings and straps would be sexy, and you didn’t want something too plain, or innocent. 

You think hard about it as you flip through clothes hangers and observe each set. Wrong colour, wrong shape, wrong size, too flashy, not flashy enough, itchy fabric...it feels like an impossible mission to find anything even remotely suitable.

You’re just about to give up and walk out, when your eyes land on one of the mannequins. It was unrealistically proportioned, but you were more interested in the lingerie it was displaying. Simple, classic, elegant, sexy...it was perfect.

You find your size on the shelf beside the display, and walk out of the store a few minutes later with another bag in hand, feeling remarkably pleased with yourself. You only hope your boyfriends wouldn’t tear the set to shreds when they finally got their hands on you.

[darlingandmreames]

No One Knows (Until Everyone Knows)

(also on ao3)

Ariadne got a couple of blocks away from the workshop before she reached for her phone and found an empty pocket instead. If it had been anything else- except maybe her keys, she needed those unless she wanted to sleep outside- she would’ve just kept going and grabbed them when she got in the next day. Not her phone though. That she needed.

The door was still unlocked when she tried the handle and the lights were on when she slipped back inside. Normally she would’ve assumed it was Cobb, he tended to stay late, but he’d headed out surprisingly early that day. Both Arthur and Eames had still been finishing up working when she’d left, though, so at least one of them must have still been in. It was a bit late for both of them, particularly Eames, but she’d long given up trying to figure out any of their schedules. If taking this job had taught her anything it was that people in the dream sharing field had the most incomprehensible sleep and work schedules of anyone she’d ever met. 

“We should head out soon.”

“I heard you the first six times. Let me finish this first.” Ariadne could almost hear Arthur rolling his eyes. “Unlike you, I am actually doing work.”

She smiled, half listening to their conversation in the other room as she scanned the tables for her phone. Out of everyone it had taken her the longest to get used to working with the two of them. On their own they were both fine; they both had their oddities but were still nice enough, and Arthur in particular had been helpful and patient as Ariadne had tried to adjust to dream sharing and manipulating. The two of them together, though, was a very different story. They argued constantly and she'd thought at first that they didn't like each other, but she realized quickly enough that their bickering was more banter than actual arguing. They were an odd pair, but entertaining once she'd gotten more used to it. 

"I was working but then you said you were almost ready to head out so I stopped working. You're the one holding us up."

"You realize you can just leave without me, right? You're under no obligation to wait if my desire to actually do my job is bothering you so much."

Ariadne could already see them in her mind. Arthur sitting at the table he'd staked out as his, papers spread around him, Eames leaning against the table next to him, grinning and arms crossed. It was a scene she'd seen plenty of times over the past couple of weeks, sometimes multiple times a day.

It was not the scene she found when she finally rounded the corner, however. Some pieces were the same- Arthur was indeed standing at his usual table, papers spread around him- but Eames wasn’t leaning against the table. He was standing behind Arthur, his arms wrapped around Arthur’s waist and chin resting on his shoulder as Arthur sifted through various papers. “And miss out on your delightful company?” He kissed Arthur’s cheek. “Never.”

She watched, surprised, as Arthur laughed quietly. “Thought I was difficult and annoying?”

“You are. Very annoying. Especially when you’re keeping me from heading back to the hotel.”

Ariadne backed up around the corner and back out of view quietly, feeling awkward. She certainly couldn’t say she was shocked, the two of them spent most of their time walking the very thin line between banter and outright flirting, but still. She’d never seen them like this, and she got the feeling that was very much intentional. She hesitated a moment, thinking over her options, before dropping her keys loudly on the concrete floor. She took her time picking them up, trying to make as much noise as she could without it being obvious that that's what she was doing. Let them know she was there and give them a moment to move if they wanted to before she walked in.

Sure enough when she rounded the corner again Eames was leaning against the table several feet from Arthur, who suddenly seemed singularly focused on whatever papers he had in front of him. Ariadne smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I know I already said night for the evening, but have either of you seen my phone? I think I left it here, and I didn’t see it on any of the tables in the other room.”

Eames glanced around, frowning, before pointing to the counter. “Is that it?”

She followed his finger, smiling in relief when she spotted her phone lying next to some of Yusuf’s equipment. “Shit, yeah, thanks.” She slipped it into her pocket and gave a quick wave as she headed back towards the door, walking quickly. She already felt awkward for interrupting, no need to make it worse by staying longer than absolutely necessary. “Okay, goodnight for real this time!”

Ariadne glanced back once she was back outside, the light from the workshop shining dimly through the obscured windows. That…certainly hadn't been what she'd expected to find. It was sweet though, honestly. And it certainly put their bickering in a new light. She wondered if Cobb knew; he and Arthur clearly knew each other fairly well, so if anyone else knew it'd be him. Given their apparent desire to keep their relationship hidden, though, she doubted it. She set off down the sidewalk toward her apartment, smiling slightly. Well, he wouldn't hear it from her. 

XXX

When Saito had first begun considering hiring Dominic Cobb to perform inception, he’d done his homework. Arthur Cohen- though Saito doubted that was his real name- had come up repeatedly in the process, and Saito hadn’t been surprised in the least to find him working this job as well. He was known for being one of the best pointmen in the field and for being serious, efficient, and perfectionistic. And he had very much lived up to that reputation in the short time Saito had been working with him.

Unless Eames was around.

“Thank you for your input, Eames, it was most helpful.”

Eames leaned back in his chair with what might have passed as a polite smile if he’d been aiming it at anyone else. Saito couldn’t tell which Eames seemed to enjoy more: starting disagreements with Arthur, or egging him on once they began. Either way it was a common enough occurrence that Saito knew exactly what was coming. This was the third time they’d gone at it in as many hours. “Well someone has to bring some imagination to the job, and it clearly isn’t going to be you, love.”

“Yes, your imagination is always so wonderfully helpful. Like on the Barraker job, remember how helpful it was then? It even managed to get me shot if I remember correctly.”

“See?” Eames grinned. “Very helpful indeed.”

Cobb sighed. “Focus, gentlemen. Please.” He turned back to papers spread out across the table. “We need to figure out how to get Fischer from ‘I will create something for myself’ on the second level to ‘my father doesn’t want me to be him’ on the third. It’s a logical leap, but still a bit of a leap all the same.”

That was when it happened. A small smile that was more warm than teasing, met with an eye roll that was more fond than annoyed. The exchange was over almost immediately and both men were back to paying attention to Cobb like nothing had happened. If Saito hadn’t been specifically watching the two of them he would’ve missed it, and as it was he seemed to be the only one who’d caught it. 

Saito'd had several affairs over the years. He'd never married himself, nor did he intend to, but several of his partners had been, so he knew that game quite well. Hiding affection in plain sight. Stolen glances when no one else was looking, lingering touches that were just brief enough to still look casual, carefully maintained appearances and interactions that often carried a second, more intimate meaning. He was familiar with all of them, having been both the initiator and recipient of them on numerous occasions. It was a game built on subtlety. On delicacy. On smiles and eye rolls when no one else was paying attention. 

He continued watching Arthur and Eames as the conversation continued but the moment didn't repeat itself, not even when they started bickering again a few minutes later. Saito couldn't help but wonder what they were like when they were alone; the fondness and warmth had been brief, but it hinted at a side to both men that was surprising. It perhaps shouldn't have been- he knew as well as anyone that a professional persona was often little more than that, a persona- but it was nonetheless.

He sighed slightly and went back to actually listening to what Cobb was saying. He was the one who'd insisted on being this involved in the job in the first place, the least he could do was pay attention. 

XXX

For a profession that took place almost entirely while asleep, dream sharing was full of people with terrible sleep schedules. Even occasional somnacin use fucked with the circadian rhythm and the amounts professional extractors used were enough to completely destroy any hope of a regular sleeping pattern. So Yusuf didn't think twice about knocking on Eames' hotel door at 11pm. He was three cups of coffee in and eager to share the breakthrough he'd just had, nearly vibrating with a combination of caffeine and excitement. Actively working with a team on a job opened up so many new possibilities that he'd never really had the chance to explore running his shop back in Mombasa, and he was thrilled to finally have the chance to do so. 

Eames gave him a tired smile when he opened the door. "Yes, hello Yusuf, can I help you?"

He looked surprisingly disheveled, his shirt untucked and hair out of place, and Yusuf briefly wondered if he'd maybe been getting ready for bed. Even if he was this wouldn't take long, and Yusuf was too excited to not tell someone what he'd figured out. "I was working- well, I was actually making coffee, but that's a necessary part of working, so basically the same thing- and I realized something." He pushed past Eames and into his room. He had a tendency to get a little loud once he got going, so he figured it'd be best if they didn't have this conversation in the hallway. "So the compound we'll be using creates a super clear connection, right? Between dreamers? And normally we talk about that just in relation to the team members, but it obviously includes the mark as well! That means when you're impersonating Browning on the first level you could…"

Yusuf stopped, confused, when he got into the main part of Eames' room. He'd assumed Eames would be alone because, well, it was 11pm on a Tuesday. Not exactly prime time for company. But Arthur was there too, laying on the bed. He was propped up on his elbows, expression somewhere between mortification and murderous intent. It would've been pretty funny, honestly, if it hadn't been directed at Yusuf. He frowned. Had Arthur come in to talk about the job with Eames as well? He couldn't think of any other reason for him to be here. He looked a bit disheveled too, jacket laying on the ground beside the bed and shirt partially unbuttoned, which was odd given how proper Arthur usually was, and… Yusuf stopped.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Did you need something?" 

Arthur's tone was tight and yeah, that was definitely murderous intent in his expression. "I, uh…" Yusuf glanced around, panicking. This was bad. He needed to get out of here. "I, um, you know, it's really not that important. It can, uh, it can wait. Until tomorrow. Yeah. I'm, um, I'm going to, uh, go now."

"That'd be great, thanks." Eames was still standing by the door, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking like he wanted Yusuf out of the room just as much as Yusuf wanted to leave. He moved aside as Yusuf hurried passed him and back out into the hallway. "Oh, and Yusuf?"

Yusuf turned around, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Y-yeah?"

"This, um," Eames ran a hand through his hair, giving Yusuf an embarrassed smile, "this just stays between us, yeah?"

Yusuf nodded. Keep it quiet, he could do that. "Not a word."

"Thanks." Eames closed his door and Yusuf hurried back to his own room. He closed the door behind him and quickly locked it, deadbolt and chain, just for good measure. He didn't think Arthur would actually kill him- there were clearly…other things to occupy his attention right now- but he still intimidated Yusuf enough that he figured it was better safe than sorry.

It was a bit sweet though, now that he had a chance to actually think about it. The two of them were insufferable around each other but in the sort of way a kid was insufferable around their crush, and he'd wondered if they had a bit of a thing for each other. It was nice to know he'd been right, even if it meant avoiding Arthur for the next few days.

XXX

In retrospect, Dom felt rather stupid for not having seen it earlier.

He'd known Arthur a long time. He’d actually been the architect on the first job Arthur ever worked, which was how they’d met, and they’d worked together relatively frequently in the years since. He was the only person Dom had worked with who had met his kids, even if just briefly, and he’d been one of the only semi-stable parts of Dom’s life since Mal’s death. They’d had their differences over the years, but Dom unquestionably considered him a friend. Probably the closest one he had anymore, and he liked to think he knew at least a decent bit about him.

One of the things he knew was that Arthur and Eames bickered. They always had, ever since the first job Dom had worked with both of them. It was just what they did. That was the unspoken arrangement of any job both of them were working: you got an excellent point man, an excellent forger, and a guarantee that they’d refuse to shut up or get along for more than 5 minutes for the entirety of the job. Dom had occasionally wondered if it was more flirting than actual bickering- it certainly walked the line sometimes- but he’d never really given it much mind. Even if it had been flirting, there hadn’t been anything behind it.

Except maybe there had.

Because Arthur’s voice wasn’t usually as soft, or as fond, as it was when he told Eames to go to sleep. Dom glanced over at him as he rolled up his own sleeve. Eames had already gone under but Arthur was still crouched by him, Eames’ hand in his. It was small, maybe nothing for most people, but Dom knew Arthur. Knew him pretty well, or at least as well as Arthur let anyone know him. He wasn’t nearly as cold or emotionless as people tended to assume he was, but he also wasn’t a particularly affectionate person, not openly at least. And that was affection in his expression, clear as day.

He looked away as Arthur stood back up, busying himself with his IV. That…wasn't a side of Arthur he'd really seen before, and he got the feeling that was intentional. Arthur was a private man after all, even for someone in their profession, and this was far from a good time to risk infringing on that. There was more than enough shit going on that was more important, and Arthur would have his hands full enough trying to hold off Fischer's sub-security for Dom to risk throwing him off; their lives depended on Arthur being focused. 

"Hey, you ready?"

"Yeah, just…just give me a sec." Dom finished rolling up his sleeve and got ready to insert the line. Maybe he'd ask after the job, assuming they all made it.

XXX

Arthur was usually a pretty even keeled person. Years of working in the underworld of extraction meant that very little surprised him anymore, and he tended to be unfazed by most things. Even when things did manage to surprise him he'd long learned to keep it hidden below the surface, away and out of sight. Right now, though, he felt almost giddy.

They’d done it. They’d fucking done it. Inception. It’d gone sideways in just about every way possible, but they’d still done it. It was an amazing feeling and as Eames came up beside him, Arthur couldn’t help but look at him with a grin. Eames raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “You’re in a good mood.”

“And you’re not?”

“Course I am.” Eames grinned back and leaned in slightly, his hand brushing briefly against Arthur’s hip. “You just don’t usually show it so openly.”

Arthur leaned in as well, resting against Eames' arm. "I have my moments."

"That you do, darling," Eames laughed. "That you do." After a moment he shifted, slipping his arm around Arthur's waist. They generally avoided any sort of public affection but Arthur leaned into the touch, wrapping his own arm around Eames' waist in return. Eames laughed again. "You really are in a good mood."

"Just looking forward to celebrating a job well done." He rested his head against Eames' shoulder. Across the baggage carousel Saito caught his eye, raising an eyebrow, and Arthur shrugged slightly in return. "I was thinking dinner?"

"Mm, maybe a few drinks too." Eames pulled him in slightly. "I know a wonderful bar near the hotel, one of my favourites in the city."

"Sounds like an excellent plan." Knowing Eames, a favourite bar could refer to anything from an exclusive establishment to a hole in the wall dive bar, and Arthur absolutely couldn't find it in him to care which it was. All that mattered was that it was the two of them, celebrating. 

The baggage area slowly began to clear out as people's luggage began dropping down onto the carousel. Yusuf hurried by them, bag in hand, glancing at them briefly and nodding before looking away again almost immediately. Eames chuckled and Arthur couldn't help but smile as well; he'd been awkward around them ever since he'd stopped by Eames' room unannounced, even going so far as to avoid the both of them as much possible for a few days afterwards. Ariadne seemed to have no such qualms, though, flashing them a wide grin as she walked by. Arthur smiled back; if Ariadne stayed in the dreamsharing field- which Arthur had a feeling she would, reality was never enough after getting a taste for dream construction- he had no doubt he and Eames would get a comment or two from her the next job they worked together.

The giddiness faded somewhat as he and Eames waited for their bags to appear, but the sense of excitement and disbelief stayed. Arthur caught Dom's eye as he made his way across the room and Dom nodded, his own expression mirroring Arthur's disbelief. They'd really done it. They'd performed inception. Completed a job that shouldn't have been possible and gotten Dom home. Arthur hummed happily as Eames rested his cheek against the top of his head. It would be nice to spend the night out, dinner and drinks and wherever else they ended up until they finally ended up back at the hotel, riding the high of what they'd managed to pull off. After everything, they deserved it. 

[alonelysimp]

@hqrbinger bc I'm not sending this to ur inbox <3

1.6k || i got lazy hehe

The paper in his hand crinkles in his grip and his nails nearly puncture it. His teardrops blot the ink letters, making them bleed into each other slightly.

.

How long has it been since he last saw you? Since he last saw the way your eyes sparkled in the early morning sun? Since he last heard your voice calling out to him?

You broke him, leaving only shards of what was once the man you loved.

He has gone through many things, many of which a normal human would never dream of enduring. But alas, it’s the only thing he’s ever known. From being abandoned by his own family, his creator, to undergoing the torturous path of becoming a harbinger. After hundreds of years without so much as a single person that cared for him, truly showing him any warmth at all, it’s no surprise he became the man he is. Ruthless, cold, a man who could topple entire countries to the ground. Hated by all, or disliked at the very least. It’s just how things are though, right?

So why were you any different?

Why did you love someone like him so earnestly? Accepting every part of him, even though he felt like he didn’t deserve it? He loved that about you, Curse. The ice-cold walls he put up would melt around you. Why did you show a man like him your warmth?

.

He sat by the window as he read the numerous reports he received while awaiting your return. You were just going out to the market, as you do every week, to see if there was anything you liked that was recently imported from Inazuma, right? Maybe you could bake something with him later. Everything you made always reminded him of his home, in a sense. But, the hours slowly passed. Ticking from eleven to noon, to three, to seven, and soon the sun had completely set over the freezing snowscape.

He glanced outside, noticing the time, and watched as the streetlights flickered on. The foot traffic of people returning home from work increased. He huffed, standing out of his chair. You had probably gotten distracted and lost track of time again. But this late? He headed outside after throwing on a coat, carrying one for you as well.

The name “Curse” was well known throughout the city. You were Balladeer’s beloved, after all. He made sure everyone in Snezhnaya knew it.

The square was full of people buying groceries on their way home. The merchants’ shops often sold quick, convenient food for them. Were you buying food for dinner?

He grew tired as the night went on, and the temperature quickly decreased. He called some agents to help look, anxiety began to gnaw at the back of his mind. It’s only been half a day, you couldn’t’ve gotten very far, right?

Right?

.

How long has it been since he last saw you? Since he last saw the way you asked him to go make a pot of coffee so you could sleep in a little longer? Since he last felt your hand in his as you strolled along the shore?

It’s been days since you left. Gone, without a trace. No one has seen you. His voice was still sore from calling your name for hours on end, and the lingering effects of frostbite still nipped at the tips of his fingers.

His subordinates in neighbouring nations haven’t caught wind of you wither. It’s like you’ve disappeared into thin air. Nothing but a faint fragment in his memory.

His condition hadn’t kept him from performing his duties though. After all, he was a harbinger. Some say he’s gotten more… aggressive lately, but then again, he’s Balladeer. The cold, ruthless man you once knew.

When he opens a report from one of his higher-ranking subordinates in Mond, he honestly thinks it’s a joke. You? Curse? His girlfriend? Moments of silence pass.

“Curse is in Mondstadt... and she...?” He tosses the paper onto his desk, now littered with reports both addressed to him and to the other harbingers. You were perfectly fine, seeming to enjoy yourself in the new country. He shakes his head, leaning back in his chair.

His office seems quiet, now that your voice no longer fills the room. The couch that sits beside him is cold now. Were you really in Mondstadt? He stands up abruptly, making the chair screech against the wood floor, and takes his coat off the coat rack. If you weren’t there, he could just fry the agent.

His hand hovers over the doorknob. Why had you left in the first place? If you were in Monstadt already, then you hadn’t stopped travelling since you left. Did you even stop at the square?

He pauses, glancing back at the report. Would you even want to come back to him? You were happy in Mondstadt. But you were happy with him too, right? He sighs, snatching the paper and shoving it in his pocket.

.

How long has it been since he last saw you? Since he last saw the way your smile seemed to brighten the room? Since he last felt your hand run through his hair?

He arrived in Mondstadt sometime during the next night or the early morning after. Either way, it was late, already pitch black outside.

“Curse wouldn’t be out at this hour,” he reasoned, leaving his horse with his subordinates and making his way to the Goth Grand Hotel. “Her sleep schedule can’t be that bad.”

A part of him hoped you would be staying there, using your privileges as his lover to find a place to stay.

The bed underneath him isn’t the most comfortable. If you really are staying here, he would demand a more suitable bed be imported. He huffed, not taking his eyes off the ceiling. That’s ridiculous, you’d be coming back with him that afternoon.

The next morning he was looking… worse for wear, to say the least. Dark circles line the porcelain skin under his eyes. His voice is strained and hoarse from the nights he spent sobbing into his pillow until he couldn't breathe.

He felt so weak.

He hated it.

He hated the way you could make him smile. The way you could make his heart beat so wildly in his chest. The way you could make him weep into his pillow, worrying for you.

He was finally going to see you again, though. After many painstaking days of wondering where you were, or even if you were still alive. He has a list of areas with often a high crowd, but he first decides to stroll the streets. There was a locally famous restaurant not too far from the hotel. Perhaps you’d be there.

He brushes off the stares from the people that pass, ordering only a drink and waiting for you to show up.

His fingers drum impatiently on the table. You were here, right? A heavy sigh escapes his lips as a heavy pit settles in his stomach. He would travel to the ends of Teyvat to find you.

The chairs behind him crash, dragging across the cobblestone ground. The agent is leaning on the back of the chair, panting heavily before standing rigidly the moment Scaramouche turns around.

"Sir, she's at Windrise."

.

.

... She's what.

His heart jumps at the words; at the thought of seeing you again. You. The person he loves with everything in him, the person who changed his life, the person who showed him love for the first time in the hundreds of years he's been roaming Teyvat. He roughly pushes past the agent, running out the gates of Mond.

He can feel his hands shake, even with him running like this.

You, it's you, it's always you. The one he could love.

The one he could trust.

The one where he didn’t have to worry you would leave him.

At last, he would be able to feel you in his arms again. He would give up everything for you. He could be home again, with you.

“Curse…” He can’t bring himself to say another word.

There was no way you would.

You sat beside a tall man, dressed in black. What looked to be his cape draped over your shoulders.

It’s just one of your dumb jokes, right?

There’s no way you’d actually.

He approaches you slowly, a frown spreading across his face. Why were you here? And with someone else?

“C’mon, let’s go home.” He stands in front of you, glaring down the man to your side. Please, Curse. I’ve missed you.

“I’m sorry, who are you? I think you have the wrong person.”

...You were joking, right?

“Curse, I’ve been looking for you for the past five days, let’s go home.”

“Please don’t interrupt me on my date, if you don’t need anything then go.”

This can’t be happening. He stands there in silence for no more than a few moments before turning away abruptly.

He hated how you made him feel emotions so vividly.

Please, don’t do this to me.

He felt his heart shatter each time your words replayed in his head. Did you really not love him? Was all of that just a lie? Everything?

No, this was just a joke. A dream. He would wake up the next morning next to you again, as if nothing ever happened.

Did you really hate him enough to pretend not to know him? All those dumb smiles you gave him? The quick pecks on his cheek before he left for work. Did they all mean nothing to you?

Did he mean nothing to you?