#Baby is asleep on my arm time to try and weasel out from under her to work on it again

[muffinlance]

Hi! Hope you're doing well! I just wanted to check in and see if there is an ETA on epubs for anyone who's ordered them recently - I ordered epubs of both Fox's Tongue and Kirin's Bone, and The Skin Stealer's Son on the 31st of May but haven't gotten them yet. No pressure! I totally understand if you're just inundated with orders or busy, I was just curious 🤗 Anyway, thank you so much, hope everything is going good!

Very very soon! I ran into some issues with a corrupted file, which meant I had to go back to the version before that, which didn't have the final typo fixes because of course it didn't so I've been cleaning those up all week, blerg. I'm 90% done now--hoping to finalize the epub tomorrow and start getting them out the day after, assuming my computer doesn't eat things again. Since I'm now compulsively saving to three locations every few hours that should hopefully not be an issue again.

Sorry for the delay, and thank you for your support!

[whumperooni]

what’s mine is mine

Pairing: Touya Todoroki x Sister!Reader

Tags/Warnings: tw incest, tw breeding kink, scumbag squad, drugs and drinking, possessive behavior

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: This is in response to a big brained nonny! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to it!

“Touya-nii, do you want some- oh. Sorry, nii-san, I didn’t know you had guests over...”

Touya lifts his head from his phone to find you standing in the doorway- a curious tilt to your head and hands clasped behind your back. On the couch across from him, his shitty friends are looking at you- just as curious but with a look in their eyes that he doesn’t appreciate.

There’s a reason he doesn’t have them over when you’re home.

“Woah, Todoroki- who is this? Don’t tell me that’s your little sister. Where’ve ya been hiding her?”

Touya huffs as Keigo grins and you flush- teeth digging into your bottom lip, eyes lowering to the floor under the attention, a tiny smile threatening to form that Touya is very unhappy to see.

“C’mere, little birdy, let us see ya. Come say hi.”

The scowl that breaks across Touya’s face only makes Keigo smirk. Your eyes dart to Touya- seeking his approval, your face flustered- and Touya huffs again, rolls his eyes whenever Jin raises a brow toward him.

At least Tenko’s already gone back to playing his game- head bowed and bloodshot eyes only flicking toward you whenever Touya waves you over to him and you hesitantly enter the room.

He doesn’t like the way three sets of eyes run over your legs and he really doesn’t like the way Keigo’s smirk grows whenever his own eyes narrow.

Fuckin’ bastard. He’s nothing but scum.

Touya grabs your wrist as soon as you’re close enough to him to do so and he yanks you down onto his lap, ignores the squeak that leaves you whenever he wraps his arms around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder, rests a hand on your thighs.

“Asshole friends, this is my little sister. Sis, these are my asshole friends.”

“Yo.”

“Hey.”

“...mmm.”

“H-Hi...”

Keigo coos at your shy voice and Jin smiles a little- expression hazy from all the weed he’s smoked. Tenko glances at you- pointedly at your legs, between them- and Touya scowls, squeezes your thighs and pulls you even closer against him.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you come over here with us? If you want a lap to sit on, you can always use mine or Jin’s.”

“What about mine?”

“No one wants to sit on yours, weeb.”

“You can sit on mine,” Jin mumbles, barely audible over Tenko and Keigo’s squabbling. “I don’t mind.”

Your head moves with a shake and your fingers curl into your skirt- cheeks flaring as you press back against Touya. Something relaxes in his chest with that and he hugs you a little closer, smothers the impulse to lay his lips to your neck.

“N-No, thank you,” you mumble to Jin- so polite, so shy, so very good with your refusal.

“Didn’t want you to anyway.”

Touya snorts at that, just shakes his head when you look back at him in confusion.

Out of all of them, Jin’s probably the least likely threat. Tenko would be if he didn’t have a habit of staring and sneaking photos of any and every girl he can- he wouldn’t ever actually try anything on you, but Touya doesn’t want upskirt photos of his lil sis on that perv’s phone.

Keigo’s the worst by and far. And Touya will be damned if he lets his little sister get anywhere near that jackass with his sickly sweet charm, shit eating grins, and groping hands.

No way- you’re his.

“Nii-san,” you whisper, looking back at him with your cute little flushed cheeks and shy eyes. “Nii-san, I just came down to ask if you wanted some dinner. Natsuo-nii said he’d pick up some take-out...”

Natsuo? What the fuck are you doing hanging around Natsuo? That little shit should be on some cheesy date with his squeaky mouse of a girlfriend instead of trying to weasel in some time with you.

Touya doesn’t know which he hates more- the thought of his sleazy friends trying to flirt with you or the thought of you hanging out with your older brother, his younger brother.

When he only scowls in response, your face falls. You turn on his lap until you’re sat facing him- fingers curling into his shirt and brow furrowed, your bottom lip jutting out into one of those cute pouts of yours that you like to wear when you’re worried about him.

Over your shoulder, Touya can see Jin’s confusion and Tenko’s cocked brow, Keigo’s narrowed eyes. He flashes them a sneer that you can’t see and settles his hands on your hips, looks back down at you to see what’s got you bothered enough to forget your shyness.

“Onii-chan,” you start- voice tilting with a soft whine, something almost lecturing creeping through the words. “Nii-san, Natsuo-nii was just being nice. And you need to eat.”

Your hands run down his chest and your expression grows softer as you look up at him through your lashes, your voice gets quieter as you whisper to him,

“I worry about you, nii-san. You’re so skinny...”

The tips of your fingers press into the spaces between his ribs and Touya sighs as concern fills your eyes, ignores the stares of his friends from across the room.

“Fine, whatever,” he grumbles. “Get something for me and put it in the fridge. I’ll eat it later.”

“You promise?”

A huff leaves him and you pout whenever he rolls his eyes, but a nod of his head gets your lips quirking up with a pleased little smile all the same.

“I’ll get you some low mein,” you chirp, hands smoothing down his chest. “And I’ll have Natsuo-nii get you some beer too!”

“Aw, ain’t she just the sweetest.”

Keigo’s croon has you blushing and Touya huffs again once your head ducks- lips twitching with irritation as you squirm on his lap and the blonde across the room bares his teeth at him in a grin.

Fuckin’ dick.

“I, um, I- I should go tell Natsuo-nii,” you mumble, cheeks still flared up and voice dipping shy again. Touya just grunts and he squeezes your hips before giving one a little smack.

A press of soft lips to his cheek and then you’re off- Keigo, Jin, and Tenko all watching as you hurry out of the room and out of sight.

As soon as you’re gone, they look to him and Touya’s eyes narrow when a low whistle sounds from Keigo.

“Shit, Todoroki, and here I thought your whole family was just a bunch of dogs.”

“Oh fuck off,” Touya snaps, reaching for the blunt wraps with a scowl. “Don’t get any fuckin’ ideas, birdbrain.”

“Ideas?” Keigo laughs- grin still in place, turning sleazy. “Now why would I have any ideas about your cute lil sis and her cute lil tits.”

“I said fuck off.”

“She is pretty cute,” Jin mumbles, fingers scratching along his chest and lips holding a dazed smile that only has Touya scowling darker. “Like her ass...”

“Bet she cums like an ahego whore,” Tenko throws out without even looking up from his stupid fucking game. “Looks like a dumb slut.”

“Think the weeb’s right,” Keigo sneers. “Hey- she got a boyfriend, Todoroki?”

“I don’t know- you got a black eye?”

“Aw, cute- he’s protective.”

“Virgin then,” Tenko pipes up. “Bet she’d cream herself if she got kissed.”

A growl rips from Touya and the three bark out some laughs- Keigo and Tenko smirking while Jin’s dumb little smile grows.

He’s gonna fucking kill these assholes.

He knew they’d be nothing but scum when it came to you- he should’ve made sure you’d be out of the house before he let these three dicks come over for a smoke sesh.

Touya scowls and his friends keep up- slinging lewd comments and jeers as he smokes and stews.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Two in the morning and Touya’s buzzed.

Buzzed and fucking pissed.

Those assholes didn’t let up all night. Every other sentence out of Keigo’s mouth was about fucking you, getting you on your knees, making you drunk and stupid so he could wreck your ass. Tenko kept comparing you to characters from his ero games and Jin kept mumbling how he wanted you to sit on his dick, warm his cock while he smokes.

Jin was bareable, kind of. But Tenko and Keigo?

It’s a goddamn miracle he didn’t break their faces.

Touya scowls as he watches his so called friends head out and narrows his eyes at one last jeer of “kiss your sis good night for me” tossed out ny Keigo.

Those fuckers need to learn some manners. Those fuckers need to learn who you belong too.

Scowl deepening, Touya heads toward your room- feet stumbling and teeth gritting.

You’re asleep when he barges in- face peaceful, blanket twined between your legs, fingers curled into the sheets. He looks over you for a second, runs his eyes over bared thighs and cotton panties, and then he walks toward the bed, climbs onto it.

As soon as the mattress dips, your lashes flutter open and you stir with a sigh. You don’t do more than give a sleepy blink when he brackets himself over you, offer him a fuzzy, drowsy smile.

“Touya-nii...? What...what time is it?”

“Two.”

A hum and a yawn, another sleepy little blink. You’re cute like this and usually Touya would just crash beside you, but he’s got other plans right now- stupid, drunk, dumb plans but plans all the same.

“Hey- hey, don’t go back to sleep.”

There’s a huff from you, a furrowing of your brows. But you obey him as you always do; you sit up with another yawn and rub at your eye with a loose fist, let him tug the covers off of you without a fuss.

“Nii-san...nii-san, what is it?”

Touya ignores you and he grabs onto your still sleepy face, pulls you closer until he can kiss you, make you whine and moan. You jerk, just a bit, at the way he bites into your bottom lip and then you’re melting into his touch, looking up at him through half-shut eyes whenever he breaks the kiss and runs his drunken gaze over your flushed face.

“Nii-san...?”

Touya grunts and thumbs away a dribble of spit from the corner of your lips, ignores the quiet confusion written all over your face. You press into his touch and he watches you blink, reaches over to flick on the lamp without looking. He almost knocks it over but he ignores that, too, and kisses you again- not caring if you’re blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden light or if you’re still thrown a little off kilter by his mood and his lingering scowl.

This kiss is rougher- his fingers snarling into your hair and his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, his grip tightening on your head. You whimper with it and Touya growls, doesn’t pull back until he feels you tremble and shake. Your lips part with a question, quivering and plumped up from his bites, and Touya huffs before it can sound, grits out his own.

“You love me, right?”

Your eyes snap open, you breathe in sharp and fast- bewilderment all over your face and any lingering traces of sleep evaporated in an instant. Your hands fly to his face and his lips twitch at the touch, he presses into it even if it’s a fucking weak little move.

“Touya-nii, of course I love you! I love you with all my heart!”

Sweet, a little hurt, absolutely sincere- you say it with wide eyes and so much concern that it makes him want to scowl even deeper, punch himself for being so stupid to even ask.

Of course you love him- he’s your nii-san after all.

Touya huffs and his shoulders relax a little, his tongue darts out to wet his lips as your brows scrunch together in worry.

You’re a good little sister. He doesn’t have anything to worry about- never will.

But fuck he’s still pissed.

“I wanna do something,” he half-growls out. “You’ll be good for me, yeah?”

A flush, a squirm. You nod, though- brows still furrowed and eyes scanning his face in search for some answer to your confusion.

“Of course, nii-san,” you whisper. “I- of course. What-”

“Take your clothes off. All of ‘em.”

A soft noise slips from you and you breathe in shakily, but there’s no hesitance in the way your hands rise to tug off your shirt.

Touya watches for a moment and then he gets up from the bed, walks over to the door and closes it, locks it.

You’re naked by the time he comes back- flushed but not embarrassed, bruises littered everywhere your clothes can hide them. Touya eyes the bruises, those marks he’s put all over his dear, sweet little sister, and his lashes lower, something hungry and greedy starts to grow inside of him.

You’ve never belonged to anyone but him.

He touches your cheek- soft in the moment, rough edges hazed over by your adoration. A tap to it has your lashes fluttering, a press of his thumb to your lips has you shuddering.

“We’re gonna make a lil movie,” he rumbles out. You startle, eyes flying wide open once again, but you don’t protest or tell him no even if unease has your fingers curling tight into the sheets.

You never tell him no.

“I...okay, nii-san...”

The compliance has him humming- thumb dipping past your parted lips so he can press it down against your wet tongue.

It’s sweet how you agree, satisfying- more satisfying then the beer he threw back all throughout the night and the weed he smoked away.

A lick to his lips and Touya pulls away, starts to strip away his clothes- hands fumbling, clumsy as he tries to undo buttons and zippers. You watch him silently- cheeks heating up and thighs pressing together- and your teeth find your bottom lip when he starts to tug down his boxers, when his cock springs free.

“Turn around,” he orders. “Get on your knees, put that fucking pretty face against the bed and raise that ass up for me.”

Shivering, you obey- a mewl slipping from you as you do.

Touya grabs his phone from his pants and he kneels by the bed, pulls up the camera and hits record.

You’re wet and it’s easy to see even in the lowlight, even on the shitty phone screen. When he grabs onto your ass with his free hand and spreads your cheek, your hole clenches- tightens and spreads and makes him smirk.

“So fucking wet for me,” he half-sneers, a laugh sounding through the words. “Look at this pretty lil cunt all soaked and eager.”

“T- Touya...”

He huffs at your little whimper of a whine and brings the phone even close, records the way your hips twitch and your cunt sucks in his thumb when he presses against it.

“So fuckin’ wet and warm. So tight,” he hisses. “All for me, baby- right?”

“Y- yes. It’s all- all for you!”

Touya snorts and he slips his thumb out so he can spread your pussy open again, presses his palm against it and then lays a wet smack to your ass that has you yipping, arching your hips even closer to him.

“You ever been with anyone but me?”

The sheets rustle as you shake your head and Touya grips your ass tight, digs his fingers in deep and makes you squirm, whine. When there’s no verbal answer, he spanks you again in warning and you whine even louder, press your thighs tight together.

“N- no! Just you! Just Touya!”

“You want anyone else?”

“No! Never!”

Touya grins and the restless anger in him quells, just a little, at your mewled loyalty.

A fucking good little sister indeed.

Touya aims the camera at the red blooming across your ass and then he stands, moves it over to capture your arched back. He runs his hand over your side and you shiver a little, press your hips back against him until his cock nudges at your soaked cunt.

“You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?” he half taunts- the words coming out sickly sweet, rough around the edges.

“Please!”

Your moan is even sweeter than his question- hips bucking back against his cock, fingers fisting the sheets tight in your hold.

“Think you can do better than that,” he huffs, leaning over until he can tangle his fingers into your hair. “Tell me how bad ya want it.”

A whine sounds- pathetic and flustered, pitching up sharp as he yanks your head up from the bed. The tiniest sob slips from you as he forces your head back and you stare up into the camera- cheeks flushed, eyes glittering, an undeniable need flourishing across your your face.

“Please, nii-san,” you beg, nearly breathless and so fucking sweet. “Please I want- I want you to fuck me! I want- want your cock!”

“Only mine?”

Another whine and you nod, whimper as your hair gets tugged and pulled by the movement.

“Only Touya-nii’s!”

“Good girl.”

A gasp from you and a cute little mewl- the praise has you flushing darker and a tremble wracking through your body, your lashes fluttering and falling half-shut.

“Nii-san, please...”

Touya grunts and the camera shakes in his hand for a moment before he steadies himself. He rocks against you, has you whimpering, and then he grips his cock, lets you bury your face back into the sheets as he starts to push his way into your eager little cunt.

You clench around him, so fucking eager as always, and Touya groans at that, lowers his phone to show off the way his cock slides into your plush little pussy with ease.

“So fucking wet, baby,” he praises- taunts- in a growl. “Ain’t never had a cunt like yours. So fucking tight and sweet. You were made to take my dick, weren’t cha?”

A shuddering moan wracks through you- body trembling and cunt clenching around his cock so tight it makes Touya hiss and claw his nails into your hips. You whimper at the sting and he doesn’t have to see your face to know you’ve got tears in your eyes, doesn’t have to hear any mewl or whine to know that you love it.

“I- I was made- was made- oh, nii-san!”

Touya snorts at your moan, tilts his head back with a groan as he sinks even deeper into your silken, squeezing little cunt.

“Throw those fucking hips back,” he snarls, orders. “Fuck yourself on me.”

A mewl and you do just as he says- rocking your hips back like the obedient girl you are and whining as his piercings drag along the throbbing walls of your pussy. Touya rolls his head back forward so he can watch and he angles the camera so he can capture the way the soft flesh of ass jiggles each time it meets his pelvis.

“So fuckin’ good,” he mumbles. “Takin’ it so well- best fuckin’ pussy around. No one fucks like my lil sis.”

It’s more to the camera- to the future audience- but you still whimper and grind against him, drags your nails over the sheets with a soft little whine.

“Nii-san- Touya-nii, please!”

“What? You gonna come already?”

“Please!”

Touya huffs and he lays a spank to your ass, drags out a moan and has your hips stuttering against him.

“Come on nii-san’s cock then. Come nice and pretty like a good girl.”

A whimper and then you’re trembling, whining as your cunt clenches and flutters around his cock. His teeth grit with the squeeze of your cumming pussy and Touya has to dig his nails back into your hip so he doesn’t moan- lips pulling into a growling snarl as he tries not to cum with you.

“Nii-san! Nii-san!”

He lets you moan and writhe and mewl until you limp beneath him and then he leans over you, presses his chest flat against your back and curls his fingers into your hair, jerks your head to the side and shoves the phone in your face.

He wants them to see your flushed face and muddied eyes. He wants them to see your fucked out face and fluttering lashes. He wants them to see your face as he cums inside of you, as you cum on his cock again.

Touya fucks into you- movement shallow, his cock still driving in so fucking deep- and you moan, shudder whenever his teeth scrape over your shoulder.

“You like nii-san’s cock fuckin’ deep inside you?”

“Oh- oh, yes! Love it nii-san!”

It comes out whiny- so fucking needy. Touya grunts when your cunt pulses around him and he fucks into you rough, makes you mewl out his name.

“Nii-san’s gonna fuckin’ fill ya,” he snarls. “Fill your tight lil cunt. Gonna fuckin’ breed ya! Breed my sweet lil sis- fuckin’ shit- gonna cream that cunt!”

“Please! Please! Touya- nii please!”

You beg so fucking sweet. Touya snarls and he fucks into you rough, pulls your hair tight as he shoots his cum deep into your needy little pussy, fills you to the goddamn brim with his seed. You cum, again, with him and you moan as you do- so loud and cute.

Whimpers rip from you as he humps his cum deep inside you and you shudder when he grinds into your cunt, coo dreamily whenever he lays a kiss to your flushed cheek.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs.

A mewl as you nod drowsily and Touya snorts at your sleepy smile, turns the camera to his face and sneers before ending the recording.

He drops it in the groupchat before he slides out of you and sits back on his knees. You nuzzle into the covers as he runs his hand through his hair and Touya huffs, snorts as you yawn.

“C’mon,” he tells you- maybe quietly fond in a way he’ll never admit-, “let’s crash.”

You hum and you nod and Touya lets you shuffle under the covers, follows after you and pulls you close.

He clicks off the lamp and the two of you drift off to sleep- satisfaction filling Touya as his phone goes off and a happy smile on your face. 

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Tenko is the first to watch the video.

He gets the notification in the middle of crushing up some pills. His first instinct is to just ignore it, but impulse has him reaching for the phone, has his thumb clicking the play button before he can really think about it.

His brow arches, but he’s not too surprised by the smut dropped into the chat- between Keigo and Touya it happens on the weekly and he’s more than used to it.

He could use new fap material, anyway.

Tenko settles back in his chair and takes his cock out, gives it a stroke as he eyes the cunt filling the screen.

Wet, cute- he’d like to fuck it, fill it.

Why the fuck does Touya always get such sweet pussy?

A scowl twists his lips, but his hand twists along with it- pumps along his shaft as he enjoys the sight of arched hips and a cute ass.

He’d fucking wreck that ass given the chance. Slam his dick deep inside and makes this bitch moan.

“You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?”

“Please!”

Fuck- what a good lil cunt.

Tenko grunts as he rocks into his fist, but then he fucking moans when he sees just who Touya is fucking.

Shit- fuck.

He knew the bastard was twisted but goddamn.

Tenko almost laughs, but he’s too busy jerking himself off even faster- eyes narrowed and teeth gritted, a pant sounding from him.

“Yeah, shit. Fuck that little sluts’s cunt. Breed your lil sis you fucking dick.”

He should be disgusted, probably. Horrified at the very least.

But fuckin’ hell this is hot and he’s been jackin’ it to shit like this for years anyway.

And, fuck, this is real- this is hottest shit he’s watched all month. All goddamn year.

Tenko cums before the clip is even over and he keeps fucking his fist even after, replays it with a hissed curse.

Touya better drop more after this. He better let them see this in real life- Tenko needs to see this slut’s fucked out face in the flesh, needs to shove his fingers into your moaning mouth and make you choke.

Tenko licks his lips and he saves the video- saves it a second time for a back up.

Just in case.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

The second person to see the video is Jin.

He’s home- drunk, high, smoking a cigarette and watching reruns of Doraemon.

He’s feeling fuzzy, good. The night had been chill and he had liked getting a glimpse of Touya’s little sister- you’d been real cute, real sweet. He had wanted you to sit next to him- maybe in his lap like Keigo had teased- and he had wanted to hug you close, get you just as high and fuzzy as him.

He might have a lil puppy dog crush on you now- how could he not with you so shy and sweet?

Jin hums as he thinks of you, scratches his stomach and grins sleepily- one laugh leaving him as he watches Nobita fail once again.

His phone buzzes and Jin fumbles a hand over until he can pick up, blinks and raises a brow when he finds a video in the chat.

Someone fucked or someone did something stupid.

Or fucked someone stupid.

A snort leaves him and Jin takes a draw of his cigarette, lounges back and presses play.

It’s the usual shit- hot and boasting and showing off a cute lil wet cunt, a soft and sweet ass. 

He’s a bit jealous, maybe. (Definitely)

He’s a bit too relaxed and heavy to get off on it, maybe. (No he’s not)

Eyes drawing half-shut, Jin reaches a hand down his sweatpants. He strokes himself lazily as he watches Touya spanks his mewling, whiny little slut and he smokes as he does, too- humming whenever he hears the plea to be fucked.

Cute. (Hot)

Whoever this is seems like a good little girl. (A needy little whore)

A small grunt leaves him when he watches Touya tangle his fingers into hair, but a gasp of “shit” leaves him whenever a head is jerked back and he sees a cute, flushed face that he definitely knows.

“What the fuck?”

He has to pause the video, bring the phone up to his face and squint at the screen.

He’s not seeing this right- can’t be seeing this right. He’s too drunk, too stoned. too fucked up- his vision is betraying him. It has to be.

...right?

Jin stares at the screen. He stares and stares and stares. His thumb hovers over the screen, hesitating, and the ashes from his cigarette fall onto his bare chest while he tries to decide what to do.

Touya wouldn’t really...he’s not really fucking his little sister is he?

No way. No fucking way.

(Yes fucking way)

Jin blinks and his thumb hit the screen, he swallows as he watches you beg for your big brother’s cock.

Fuck, that’s sick. That’s disgusting.

(That’s so fucking hot.)

His cheeks flush and his eyes widen, draw back down to lazy slits. His fingers twitch along his cock, tighten back around it when he gets treated with the sound of a whimper, a moan.

You sound so fucking good. (You sound so fucking whiny)

You’re so cute- you probably have such a tight, wet little pussy. (You probably have such a sloppy, fucked out cunt if Touya fucks you like this on the regular)

Shit, he wants to know how your cunt feels. He wants you on his lap, wants to feel you clench around his cock like a good little girl.

(A good little whore)

It’s too much to watch- too much to handle. Jin closes his eyes and tilts his head back with a groan, jerks himself to all the mewls and growls and groans and begs that sounds from the phone.

He comes along to the sound of you coming and he shudders after it, drags his hand over his cock and wipes the mess over his sweats.

...fuck. He shouldn’t have done that- he shouldn’t have watched that. He’s not going to be able to look you in the eyes if he ever gets to see you again.

(Fuck your eyes- he wants to look up your skirt, see that cute little pussy again)

Jin frowns and he runs his hand through his hair, tosses his burnt out cigarette into the ashtray before lighting another.

On the tv, Doraemon laughs. On his phone, Touya kisses your cheek and smirks at the camera- at Jin.

Fuckin’ dick. (Lucky bastard)

Jin shakes his head and he closes his eyes again, takes a draw and blows out a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.

...he’s got some fucked up friends. (No more fucked up than him)

A grimace and then Jin looks to his phone, taps on the screen and watches through heavy lidded eyes as his friend fucks his sweet little sister.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Keigo’s the last to see the video- he finds it in the chat after he’s sent the neighbor girl back home, after he’s gotten some head and drawled out promises of feelings that he’ll never feel for some dumb little whore with aspirations of home in the ‘burbs and a passel of brats.

He snorts when he sees it, thinks it’s just some busted bitch that Touya talked into coming over so he could rail his anger out.

Touya’s always been a touchy little shit.

He stills plays it, though- drops down on to his bed and kicks back, takes a swig of beer.

It’s a pretty little cunt that gets flashed his way- wet and eager, nice and snug looking. Keigo rolls his eyes whenever Touya’s fuckin’ voice sounds, but he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy the sight of that cute cunt sucking in a rough thumb, the sound of a little whimpers and mewls.

Not a bad pussy, not a bad voice- maybe this slut isn’t that busted?

Or maybe she’s just a butterface.

A snort and Keigo lazily works his hand down his chest, underneath his sweatpants. He strokes him even if he’s just half hard and he lets his gaze drift to something half-lidded, amused and lazy.

“So fuckin’ wet and warm. So tight. “All for me, baby- right?”

Fuckin’ show off- as if this one ups the coed Keigo had last week, as if this one ups the way he had fucked her throat raw in the library and came all over her dumb face, all over her fat tits.

“Y- yes. It’s all- all for you!”

Wait a second...

Keigo blinks and his brow arches as he watches Touya lays a smack across a cute little ass.

That voice sounds kind of familiar. Someone he’s fucked before? Did Touya snag one of his sloppy seconds?

Fuckin’ maybe- fucker is stupid and petty enough to do that.

Not that Keigo cares, though- he’s never fucked anyone that he’d get jealous over.

It’s more funny than anything, actually.

Keigo snorts, again, and he pumps his cock with a sneer.

“You ever been with anyone but me?”

Yeah, you’ve been with someone better. Will probably come crawling back to him, too, when you’re left dissatisfied by Touya’s weak ass stroke game.

“N- no! Just you! Just Touya!”

...what?

“You want anyone else?”

“No! Never!”

What?

Who the fuck is this bitch?

Keigo scoffs as he hears a beg to be fucked sound, rolls his eyes as he watches skinny fingers tangle into hair.

Maybe he’ll have to hunt down this slut and wreck her, shove it in Touya’s face right back.

Keigo drags his palm over his cock right as Touya jerks a headful of hair back and Keigo damn near crushes his dick whenever he catches sight of just who Touya has caught in his clutches.

Oh that fucking bastard. That son a bitch.

A slew of curses hisses from him and Keigo snarls as he takes in your teary, needy face, as he hears his creep of a friend’s little sister beg to be fucked by Touya.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The growl spits out of him and Keigo is barely aware of it- can’t fucking care about it as he watches Touya nail his cute lil sis.

This is absolute fucking bullshit. He can’t believe that fucking prick is railing his sister. He can’t believe that petty fucking asshole is dumb enough to show it off.

What the fuck? What the absolute fuck?

Keigo’s hand moves faster and he snarls as he twists his wrist, as pre-cum spills all over his fingers.

Touya doesn’t fucking deserve that cute lil pussy. Touya doesn’t deserve to rail you with your sweet ass and mewling moan and hot little whines. Touya doesn’t fucking deserve you at all.

It doesn’t cross his mind for one moment how wrong the whole situation is. It doesn’t cross his mind that he should be disgusted over a brother fucking his little sister, that he should be disgusted over the way Touya hisses promises of fucking breeding his little sister’s cunt.

If he’s disgusted it’s only because he’s not the one fucking you- that Touya got to you first.

Oh, Touya is going to fucking regret this.

He’s going to fucking ruin you.

Keigo hisses as he cums and he growls as Touya’s stupid fucking lips quirk into a smirk on the screen, snarls and throws his phone down onto the bed as his hips jerk and pound against his fist.

“Fucking bitch! Stupid fucking whore!”

No wonder you were so goddamn shy. No wonder you didn’t sit in his lap like you should’ve. It wasn’t him- it was you; it was Touya.

The beer bottle gets swiped to the floor and Keigo growls as he rips his hand from his pants and scrubs the cum on his sheets.

Touya’s going to fucking pay for this.

Keigo saves the video and he scowls as he does- face dark, teeth gritted, stormy plans of revenge brewing in his mind.

[redhairedfeistynerd]

Slush and a Side of Toys

Part 1

A/N: I'm months behind on everything but here is my piece for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork  and @sagechanoafterdark  Winter/Holiday Festival Challenge. I chose #38 donating toys to children.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, angst, frustrated reader, swearing, alcohol

Words: 5800+

Part 2 will be up soon!!

Please like, comment and reblog. I appreciate it and thanks for reading.

All mistakes are my own

A reminder - my work is not to be reposted anywhere.

There’s a muffled humming coming from somewhere under a pile of paperwork and takeout containers on your floor. The sound is constant, piercing, and irritating. Eyes still closed, head pounding from an evening of too much wine and schmoozing, you reached down towards the sounds and ran your hands over the stack, following the vibrations of your phone. Once found, you yanked it away from it charging cord and used every ounce of energy you had, pulling the phone close to your face. Opening one eye a sliver to hide from the light, you read from the bright screen.

Hey, listen, I know we've had our differences the last few years but I think it's time we put all of it behind us. I saw Rosie the other day and asked her how you were doing but she kept it pretty vague. I hope to hear from you soon, even if it's only a text to say you’re doing okay.

Reading over the message a second time, in utter shock that he had the audacity to message you and pissed that he even dare ask your friend about how you were; you decided to turn off your phone and toss it into a pile of clothing on the floor.  

What. A. Dick.

Rolling back over into your cozy blanket cocoon, falling back asleep, temporarily pushing away any thoughts of the man from your past.

The message was all but forgotten until later that day when a familiar song came on the radio and you couldn’t help but think about how you had both downed several beers at a pub and sang it at the top of your lungs. Maybe it had been a dream earlier and the text never happened. Pulling your phone from your back pocket, hoping it was all your imagination, you indeed saw that there was a text.

The ever-so-hard to escape blue eyed man, was trying to weasel his way back into your life and you weren't having any of it. Dropping the phone into the bag sitting at your feet, getting up from the desk, shaking out a bit to ease the tension that one tiny text had accumulated.  

"Don't think about him. Don't think about him. Don't think about him," you repeated the words over and over, hoping to push all thoughts aside. In stocking feet, walking around the small hole you called your office and continued to shake it out. The calm didn’t last as long as you hoped, anger slowly creeping up and out.  

"Stupid frikkin guy!! UGH!" The sound of your disgruntled cry, shook you a bit, the frustration clearly coming out louder than expected. "All right, settle yourself down, you can't let him have this sort of pull over you," hoping the self-talk would work, you ran your hand through your hair and walked back to the desk. "Delete it, pretend that you never looked at it and it will go away."  

There was no way the struggle going on inside your head would even fathom deleting the text. Truth be told, as much as you cursed and hated the thought of him trying to slide back into your life, there wasn’t a month that went by without a thought of him crossing your mind. A song playing, a Romcom from the 90s, the pizza you both loved so much. Why couldn’t you escape him?

You shot off a quick text to Rosie, curiosity was killing you now, itching inside you, desperate to find out how the hell you had come up in conversation.

Y/N -Word on the street is that you ran into a clown I once knew; I’m curious what was said.”

Rosie: Oh no, he didn’t.

Y/N: He did and it was pathetic

Rosie: It was a super quick interaction. Both of us waiting for a coffee and being friendly. He asked about you almost right off the bat though. It almost rendered me speechless after what happened.  

Y/N - So, that’s it? What did you say? Did you tell him how fantastic my life is going and that I probably wouldn’t even remember him?

Rosie: you and I both know, that that’s a load of shit. I’ve had wine nights with you, that man-child has never left that brain of yours.  

Y/N Shut up.

Rosie: Really though, it was super quick. I said you were doing charity work and were still in the city, happy and healthy.  

Y/N- good to know. I’ll just sit here and pretend his message never happened then. Carry on as usual.  

Rosie: see you later this week?

Y/N Definitely, bye babe.

Placing your phone down on your desk, you continued opening your mail: thank you cards for volunteering, appreciation notes from parents and kids, and requests for you to help out at other groups around town. The next month would be hectic, with collecting the many donations from around the city. You had to finish training several new volunteers that would assist with wrapping, delivering, and presenting gifts to the charities and individual families that you helped support during the Winter months.  

It became a mechanical process, opening envelope after envelope, that you weren’t paying attention to the return addresses. It wasn’t until you read the first few lines that the letterhead caught your eye and did it burn.  

Blue-eyed monster strikes again via his mother.

You knew it wasn’t the case though, his mom, was offering a bursary to some of the kids you helped out and she was reaching out to you and other groups in the city to help.  

It didn’t take much to pull your mind from work once you had read the Evans name on the letter. Bits and pieces shifted in your mind; you couldn’t fight it any more today. The letter slipped to the floor and you sat back against your desk, the memories that you had been pushing away, were flooding back.

It all started innocently about three years ago, bumping into one another around town, having several acquaintances that knew each other, and a tendency to make the other smile when the lamest dad jokes were thrown around. His face was incredibly animated and you loved the way his eyebrows would jump up while he spoke, there was mischief behind them that you wanted to discover. Even a quick peek, would ease the curiosity.

You recognized that laugh from across the room of the gallery – full of heart and genuine. Turning around, you spotted Chris mingling with other attendees of the charity event. You were here to help raise money for low-income families in the community that could not afford music lessons or music therapy for their children. The profits from the art sold this evening, would help buy instruments for the school that was set to open the following month. You knew Chris had donated and you had volunteered to help teach the parents with baby's groups every second weekend. It was the least you could do, you had a bit of extra time and needed to give back to the community that helped you and your family out during your childhood.

“How did I know you would be here?”  

You must have zoned out thinking about that boisterous laugh that you didn’t see Chris walking over to you. You smiled as he leaned in wrapping one arm around you, a beer being held in his other hand. His smell was intoxicating – a mixture of orange and the woodiness of sandalwood. Would it be wrong if you pulled him closer to take a quick whiff before he pulled away?  

He took his time moving back from you, winking as his arm shifted back to his side and lifting the beer to his mouth with the other, take a long sip.

“So, you out here to buy some art?” he asked, taking another drink.

“No, not buying tonight. One of the pieces is mine, I donated it to help out.”

“You have something up for sale here?” He questioned, taking a quick spin around to quickly look at all the art hanging around the gallery. “Which one is yours?”

“Oh, I am NOT telling you that. I think I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which one is mine. You can play the role of Sherlock Holmes.”

“Now, that’s just cruel.”

“Cruel? Nah. Mysterious? Yes. Are you up for a little game of 5 questions to help you out? If you can guess which one is mine, then I guess you have bragging rights because I haven’t discussed my art with anyone here. If you don’t figure it out, then I suppose it will be a mystery forever.”

“Oh, I KNOW I’ll be able to figure this out!” Chris says loudly, clapping his hands together and popping each shoulder up and down. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Here’s the deal, you ask me whatever you need to to figure out which one is mine. Obviously, you can’t ask which one is mine as one of your questions. Ready?”

“Ready!” Chris said enthusiastically. He took your hand and brought you to the front of the room to observe the first of the paintings. “Let’s take a quick gander and then I’ll start. How does that sound to you?”

“Whatever you need to do, Evans.”

Chris pulled you from canvas to canvas, still holding your hand as he inspected each piece. “First question. “Did you only use paint for the one you donated?”

“NOPE, next question, Evans!”

“Okay, okay, I got this,” he bounced around on the spot and turned his head to quickly glance over the works close to him. “Shit, I guess I should have asked if what you donated was a painting, right?”

You walk a circle around Chris “Is that your question?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

His blue eyes flick quickly to yours before he says, “Ya, actually...ya. That’s what I want to know. Did you submit a painting?”

“Yes, one of my paintings is hanging somewhere in one of these giant rooms.”  

“You really don’t think that I’m capable of figuring this out, do you? Ye of little Faith,” he smirked and pulled you to the back of the dark room. “Any reason why it’s so dark back here?”

“Maybe that’s what the artist wanted?”

“Here’s question three then,” he said as he pulled you closer to him, your eyes looking into his as he asked. “Is you painting in the dark room?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

Chuckling, you take hold of his hand and lead him to another section of the gallery. “I don’t want you to miss any pieces, so take a look around here before you ask number three.” He squeezed your hand and looked up, the ceiling adorned with a beautiful piece; birds in flight but as they reached the furthest wall, the began to decay, until only single feathers remained.    

“Here’s number three, ready?” He looked to his left where you were nodding your head back. “Did you mainly use your hands for this piece? I mean, instead of brushes or other tools.”  

You were silent for a moment before answering, did you want to tell him how much of yourself you had put into this piece? That what the brushes couldn’t do, you did with your hands and arms? “I did. This one needed more than brushes.”

Chris smiled at you, “feel like telling me what else you used?”

“Not a chance,” you said, grabbing a glass of white wine from the tray passing by. “You want a glass?”  

Chris held up his bottle, its content revealing that it was still half full. “I think I have a pretty good idea which one is yours, so these last two questions are going to be good.” With two large gulps, he finished up the rest of his beer. “So, what happens when I guess, do I get some sort of prize? Maybe you could paint me or something?”

“If you mean, could I dump a bucket of paint over your cocky head, then, sure!”

Chris burst out laughing, pulling you into him for a squeeze.  “I love how you make me laugh and I bet you would actually do that to me. But really, if I do guess, what happens?”

You kept your body close to his, his arm still holding you close as you responded, “what do you think would be suitable prize, Chris? Do you want me to paint something, make you a prince? Maybe something of you and Dodger? Or maybe I could paint your like one of my French girls.”

“I would love one of your pieces, but if I win this, I’d like to take you out. Is that okay with you?”

Your grip tightened around the wine glass, trying not to let it slip to the floor. It was a shock, to hear that this man, one that you had flirted with for months, was asking if you wanted to go out with him.  

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, I... I didn’t expect you to ask me that,” you answered, fidgeting with your hands out of awkwardness.

“It’s ok, you can say no! It’s all right to tell me no.”

“No. No. I’d love that. If you can guess which one is mine, I will gladly go out with you. Dinner, drinks, walk – whatever you like.”

Chris placed his empty beer on the table closest to you. “Ready for my last two questions?”

“As ready as one can be.”

“Is your piece hung on the wall as a landscape?”

“Look at you Evans, you got another one.”

Chris rubbed his hands together, his smile wide and full, clearly showing that he was on a winning streak. “Here’s number four and then I’ll go right to the painting I think, the painting I know it is. Chris walked back and forth in front of you before turning to face you with his last question. You had grabbed another glass of wine and took a sip, waiting for his winning question. “Does your piece use more than black and white? – so many of these photos, sculptures, paintings are very monotone.”

“You’re good Evans and yes, I filled my picture with the rainbow. So, take my hand and show me what the answer to this mystery is.”

His warm hand took your free one and he walked you to one of the side rooms – this room was full of colourful pieces. You could feel the heat flushing across your cheeks and a thin layer of sweat formed at your hairline. Chris stopped and turned towards the back wall and pointed to one of the paintings. “I’m pretty sure this one is yours,” he said with a half-smile. “Am I right?”

You had wished, during those few minutes he had suggested that he take you out, that he would guess which one is yours. But what were the chances with over 40 pieces around you? You tried to keep your body from slouching before you softly answered “No. That’s not mine.”

The happiness in his eyes left quickly once you responded.

“Are you going to tell me which one is yours though?” He asked you eagerly.

“No, I think I’m going to keep that secret to myself. Thanks for the fun, Evans, I should get home. Another day of charity work for me tomorrow.”

“Wait, Y/N, I’d still like to take you out though, will you let me do that, please?”

“I guess we’ll have to see what the future brings,” you replied, giving him a little wink and a squeeze to his hand, you took one last sip of your wine before heading to the coat check.

Chris watched you as you wrapped a scarf around your neck and slipped your arms into the long, wool coat.  Walking back over to him and wrapping your arms around him, it was a quick hug and he barely had an arm around you before you were stepping back. With a smile on your face, you turned and stepped out into the night. Chris watched as you turned right and glanced his way, your hand lifting up and into a quick wave. He couldn’t stop smiling and knew he had to see you again.

It didn’t take long for that to happen. You couldn’t get him out of your thoughts and dreams after the encounter at the gallery. He really was something; funny, compassionate, a hard worker, and you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly good looking.

After an event in town and a few drinks later, it was easy as pie, asking him over for dinner. He had initially thought you were pulling his leg.  

Chris couldn’t stop laughing. "Oh ya, sure you want me to come over for dinner," laughing at your request and taking a sip of his IPA.

The pink that had flushed across your cheeks when you had shyly asked him was disappearing like an ice cube in hot soup. He picked up on the change immediately and apologized profusely. "I didn't think you were serious! You are serious, right?”

"Why wouldn't I be? It's just dinner," you shrugged. “I don’t see why you would have such a dramatic response to a simple question.” There was an awkwardness now and maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to come over. “Sorry, I thought since we kind of hand a friendship blooming and I tend to invite friends over...”

He took hold of your arm and pulled you into his chest, a big smile across his face. “I'll come by; don’t you worry. Which day this week works for you? I'll be out of state after this week for a bit, so hopefully something the next few days will work for you,” he said, squeezing you a bit before he released his hold on you.  

Trying not to be awkward, you responded "This week will definitely work, tomorrow or the next day are open for me."

"Let’s go for tomorrow, okay?  Would you like me to bring anything?” Chris smiled  

“Be sure to bring the dog, he's the one I'm really inviting.”

"Well, fat chance of me coming by now, I see where your allegiances lie, " he said half closing his eyes and glaring at you in a teasing manner.

"Ok then, just drop the dog off, I'm sure he'll enjoy the feast."

Chris couldn't help laugh at the way you were carrying on with this charade. The half-smile that was currently on your face was one full of mischief and it was something that he had come to enjoy the last few times he had run into you around town. He could see a sparkle in your eyes, something that he didn’t notice before today and it was something, that he could get used to.  

“A thought crossed my mind... what exactly would have happened if I had guessed right?”

“Since that didn’t happen, I guess you’ll never know,” you said with a shrug and nudged him with your shoulder.

“You sure like to tease me.”

“What exactly am I teasing you over?”

“The opportunity to be in your presence again,” he replied, a slight blush crossing his cheeks.

Finishing up your drink, you placed the glass back on the cardboard coaster and turned to face him.  

**

“What the hell is THIS?” he asked grabbing at the green monster type thing that was hanging from a lamp in your living room

"That, is a flying frog - one of those weird ass dad gifts - he's always finding these peculiar creatures for me and I can't seem to part with them.

"It's sure ugly"

"You're ugly!” You shouted back at him and burst into the most beautiful smile he had seen cross your face.

"What are you, 12?

"Sometimes,” you replied.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh at you and pull you into a quick side hug. "You're a funny one" he feels you squeeze him back softly, a smile crossing his face at the quick interaction.

"I better go take a peek in the oven and make sure everything is baking the way it should. Make yourself cozy, I'll be right back."  You looked back to him, pointing at the couches before turning and walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Turning you head back, forgetting to offer him a drink but his long strides had brought him right behind you quickly, almost colliding with your body. He tripped up a bit and moved his hand to your hip to catch himself.

"I want to see what you're up to in here, see what the chef is cooking up.” Chris resting his chin on your shoulder to peek at what you were stirring on the stove.

“You couldn’t sit still and wait for me to come back, did you miss me that much,” you teased.

“I couldn’t stand to be apart from you for a second longer.”

“That is the cheesiest lines, Evans. Does shit like that work for you?”

“What matters is, if it’s working on you. So, is it?”

You hummed, refusing to answer the question and carried on taking care of the food in the oven. Satisfied with how everything looked, you turned the timer back on and offered Chris a drink. Agreeing on wine, you pulled a bottle from the rack, passed the stemless glasses to Chris, grabbed his hand, and lead him back into the other room. Sitting on the larger of your two couches, Chris took a place beside you, taking the bottle from your hand, opening the bottle, and pouring you a generous glass before pouring his own.  

“To friendship,” he said raising his glass

“To friendship, good food, and drinks,” you added and brought your glass to his, a quick clink, and sips were taken.  

Dinner was ready within the hour and you both continued to chat while enjoying your meal.  

“That was one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time, thank you”, complimented Chris as he wiped his mouth with the napkin when he had finished his last bite.  

The compliment brought the feeling of heat to your face and out of awkwardness you almost knocked your glass over as you reached for the wine.

“Want a refill?” You asked, holding up the second bottle of red that night. “You have good taste in wine, Mr. Evans, this wine is top notch,” you said, looking over the label of the wine he had brought with him.

Chris smirked and slid the glass to his left “I’m glad you think so, I’ll definitely have another. This should probably be the last one though, I feel like I’m overstaying my welcome.” He watched as you poured, your hair falling forward as the wine glass filled. “Cheers, thank you for the invite and many thanks for a delicious meal. You are constantly surprising me with your talents.”

“You aren’t overstaying. I’m enjoying your company and don’t want you to leave yet. Here, let me show you what I’m working on for this year’s event,” you said and pulled your phone out of your dress pocket and slid your finger across the screen. Shifting your body across the cushions toward Chris, you held the phone out towards him.  

“What is it you are putting on this year?”

“Another charity event, it’s to help out the single parents that live in the community. I try to donate as much time to charities as possible.”

“You have a heart of gold.”

“I want everyone to have a special holiday season, you do it. I see that you donate time and money to charities.”

“I have the means to help and giving back is extremely important to me.” Chris looked through a few more of the photos before placing the phone down next to him on the couch.  

Reaching over to take her phone, Chris put his hand over yours and slid closer. “I know you always think I’m joking around with you when I say how much I love seeing you smile but I’m being 100% honest. Your smile is contagious and I feel like it lights up anywhere we are. It’s a beautiful smile and its part of why I’m so attracted to you.”  

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Oh shush, you!”  you said pushing your hand into his chest, your smile wider than he had seen before.  Again, he put his hand over yours and pulled you to him gently with his other hand.  He brought you close, enough to hold you against him for a hug. He watched as your eyes tried to find a joke hidden in his face but you quickly realized that there was something else there. You weren’t sure who moved first as your lips met quickly enough that your teeth clacked together and you swore in pain.  

“Oh fuck, only I would ruin an almost perfect moment. I’m such an-

He pulled you to his lips again, kissing you softly and trying not to laugh at the look on your face.

“Am I a joke to you, Evans?” you asked, kissing him back on the lips.

“Oh, not at all, I didn’t want to have to explain to people we know how I broke your teeth though. I mean, I could make up some ridiculous story about it, could be fun,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, bringing yourself back up to face Chris and pull him by his shirt towards you and kissing him without any stupid errors. You could taste the wine on him, the sweetness adding to the softness of your kiss. He took the lead, pulling you closer and slipping his tongue delicately across your bottom lip before deepening the kiss.  

Your eyes opened when you hear Chris let out a soft moan, not expecting to hear such a sound from him before you could emit one. He did it again and you felt it all the way down your spine and into your soul. Your hands, still in idiot mode, found their way to his hair, and were quickly taking apart his well-coiffed hair by running your hands through it.

“How does your hair smell so damn incredible?

“How do you taste so fucking delicious?

You pulled back, staring him in the eyes “Hmm, maybe you need to taste a bit more, clean that palate of yours,” you teased.

“Are you implying...”

“Not implying, the buffet is open, sir. Dig in.”

Chris’s face went a light shade of red.

“Oh, did I catch you off guard, Casanova?”

“I mean, no... no...’ he stumbled, “OK, fine yes, yes you did.”

“Well, now that you know, let’s get back to business. All right?”

You took control, standing up, taking his hand roughly and leading him to your bedroom.  

“I want you to take off my clothing, piece by piece. I want to see it on the floor and,” you said placing her finger on his lips, “no more talking,” you ordered.

“Anything you want,” he whispered into your ear and he ran his tongue down your neck so softly, that goosebumps raised over yours arms. His hands wandered from your shoulders and down your arms, taking hold of your hands and moving them to his belt buckle.  

Looking up to him, he nodded, silently urging you. Undoing the belt and still staring into his eyes. Moving to unzip his jeans and push the button away, Chris was unzipping the back of your dress, the cool line of metal touching your back as he drew the zipper down the length of your back.  

“You have goosebumps, do I need to warm you up?

“I’m hoping you get to that. Now, what did I say about talking?”

He smirked, pushing the dress down each shoulder until it dropped to the floor. Stepping out of it, you kicked it off with one foot, tossing it towards the wall. Chris’s hands were already roaming, his hands on your hips, fingers sliding into the thin elastic of your panties. His hands slipped across your warm flesh and directly to your cheeks, grabbing each one and squeezing, and pulling you closer to him. His lips were pressed into yours, his tongue back to searching for yours as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you to your bed. Gently, he sat you on the edge and leaned into you bringing you down to the mattress.  

His kisses ran down your sternum and across the soft skin of your breasts while his hands ran across the tops, gently running his fingers over your nipples.  

“Keep doing that, keep... keep touching my breasts, Chris.”

You could feel him pressing into you, his erection, warm and pushing against your core.

His hands squeezed your left breast while he brought his mouth down to your right, taking the nipple into his mouth, gently sucking it. Running his tongue around the bud, a chill running across your arms and a moan escaping your lips.

“I need to be in you now, please, y/n,” he said, kissing up your chest.

“In the drawer, condoms are there and hurry the hell up, Evans, I’ve waited forever for it to rain and fill up the well.”

He chuckled as he crawled over you, limbs knocking yours, a soft hand slapped across his ass, as you watched him open the nightstand drawer, which got stuck in his effort to hurry. “Come on Evans, you got this,”

“A little self-talk over there to get you motivated?”  

Chris smiled as he held up the package and smiled at you before sitting on the edge of the bed to roll the condom down his hard length. He was on you again, returning quickly, his lips pressing against yours. His lips, wet and warm, pushed harder against your mouth as he pushed your legs further apart, taking himself in his hand, rubbing across your wetness and pushing halfway. The groan that escaped his mouth while his tongue continued to touch yours, sent a tingling sensation down your body.  

“Chris, please...” you started to plead and before you could continue, he finished pressing himself into you with a grunt.

“Come on baby, show me how well you can move,” he said as he licked a strip across your neck.  

Wrapping your arms around his neck and shifting your body against his, you let out a wail. Your bodies moved together, the pace quick, the sounds of your wetness echoing throughout your room.  

“Listen to the sounds we’re making, baby,” Chris panted and drove deeper into you. His body was incredibly warm against yours, the sweat making his chest glisten in what light crept in from the hallway.  

Chris slipped his hand down and his fingers met your warmth, crawling in to press against your clit. You clenched around him; a low moan escaped his mouth as he continued his movements.

“A bit more, a bit more,” you groaned, your back arching as Chris sped up. You looked up at him and reached your hand up to his face, holding on and staring into his blue eyes as you felt the tingling ball up within.  

Faster than expected and with one last swipe of his fingers, your orgasm spread out from within. Your shoulders tingled, spreading down to your fingers as you yelped out, the warmth of pleasure flowing down and across your body. Chris had shifted to move into you, helping your orgasm along as his own shuddering began. His lips were pressed into your neck, your name crossing his lips as he slowed his pace, and leaned onto one of his arms. He continued kissing up your neck and met your lips, heavy breaths escaping from both of your mouths.

“You’re incredible Y/N. Incredible.” One more kiss was pressed to your lips before Chris sat up, heading to the bathroom. You watched the light turn on and the door close behind him. You rolled to your side; a smile of satisfaction crossed your face as you closed your eyes.

Your heart jumped when you were woken by blankets being pulled half off of your naked body. It took you a few seconds to realize that a man, a very handsome man, was sleepy peacefully beside you. Turning to face his back and shimmying closer, you pulled the blanket to cover your shoulders and back. His muscular back stared at you and you couldn’t help but raise your hand to the pale skin, bringing your fingertip to his warm skin and drawing lines to connect each freckle.  

“You, know, that feels incredible, please don’t stop,” Chris asked, his words muffled into the pillows.

You continued using his back as your canvas; swans, sunrises, all the beautiful pieces of the world this man helped you see.  

Pushing back into you Chris spoke, “I’m going to be away next week, so I’m hoping I can see you again before I head out of town?”  

Your fingers drew the word yes on his shoulder in response. Chris turned over to face you, pulling you closer to him for a soft kiss. When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile and pulled him in for something a bit more passionate.

*

Bags packed and his dog set to stay with his family, he walked by the room Scott was in. “Hey, I’m heading out, the car is almost here. Give me a hug for the road.” His younger brother stood up and embraced him, giving him a few pats on the back and wishing him well for his short trip. “Will I see you when I get back or you heading back home?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be around still. Mom wants me to stay in town a bit longer. You okay if I’m still free loading off of you a bit longer than planned?”

“You know you’re more than welcome to stay,” he said as his phone chimed from his pocket. “Cars here. Take care of the fam and Dodger for me.” His brother gave him a smile and Chris grabbed his coat and carry-on from the table before heading to the front of the house. Dammit, he had forgotten to remind Scott again about what they had discussed earlier that day. “Scott, make sure you get that message to Y/N, okay? This schedule change was pretty last minute.” He shut the door before he heard a response from his brother. The driver held the door open for him and collected his bags to place in the trunk. He couldn’t get you out of his mind on the way to the airport; your smile, the scent of your hair, the warmth of your naked skin pressed against his. He couldn’t wait to be next to you again.

[alakema]

ds Dreammare :Calm

Dreamswap belongs to onebizarrekai

Pre-apple incident, trans male Nightmare that didn’t come out yet.

Dream’s point of view:

It is way too calm to be normal. It’s already noon, and at this time of day, my little sister should be awake by now, causing a monstruous ruckus for everyone to hear. Only silence greets me. I frown, concern growing steadily inside of me. I go to her room, to see if she needs anything. She’s not there… Did she leave before I came back? But she is trustworthy enough to stick a message on the table. She knows I would worry about her otherwise. Maybe I accidentally overlooked it? As I step out of her room, I notice mine’s door is slightly ajar. Weird, I’m certain I closed it this morning. Cautious, I open the door completely. To see Nightmare in my bed, asleep. Okay, that was unexpected. Annoyed, I’m about to start a lecture about her laziness, about how she has her own bed, when a whimper stops me. ‘She’s having a nightmare.’

My sister toss and turn a few time, whimpering and shivering, and I don’t know how to feel about that; she never showed me this side of her. She hates showing weakness. I shake her a bit, hoping it will be enough. It isn’t: she still won’t wake up. My next attempt is a bit more forceful.

“AAAH!”

Is the only sound my little sibling can make before she falls to the floor. Satisfied with the result, I wait for her to notice me. When our eyes meet, she duck her head, before returning her sight on me and exclaiming :

“Yo! What are you doing here? -… What am I doing in my own room? - Fair point… The sunlight blinded me, so I decided your room was better.”

That’s an utter lie, my room has its shutter wide-open, and the sun is hitting full force. I make my disappointment over her lie clear. I try to pry the answer out of her, but she won’t budge and manage to weasel out of this. I’d like to know what happened to her, but I know forcing her to anything will only result in us fighting.

“*sigh*. I’ll prepare you a breakfast, get ready for the day.”

Or what’s left of it, I precise silently. Guess I won’t be back to the tree as soon as I wanted. The shelves are full, I wonder what I could make for her? An omelet, maybe. And bacon, too would be good for her health.

**

I tried to subtly ask again what the bad dream was about. She wouldn’t budge. As much as it is frustrating, it worries me she can’t find it in herself to tell me what’s wrong. Maybe something happened with the villagers. Again. No, the villagers would have told me if she did a prank or had done things she shouldn’t have. And Nighty is not as sneaky as she thinks she is; I would have noticed all the materials she would have tried to gather under my nose (and GOD can she be creative about that). Maybe they did something to her in retaliation?... No, that’s stupid, they might get angry at her, but they aren’t cruel. They would never get physical at her. Nightmare even admitted that she mistook her fall for a shove.

I just have to stay calm and be there for her when she’s ready. I’ll support her the best I can. After all, despite her pranks and her mischievous attitude, she’s my precious baby sister, and I’ll always be her big brother.

 Nightmare’s point of view:

Great. Just perfect. Dream found me during one of… Those times. I didn’t meant to worry him, honest ! I just… I didn’t think he would come home so soon: he has his ‘obligations’ to look after, and he’s so rigorous to be perfect to them that he would take his sweet ass time… I shouldn’t be in the way, or the villagers will make me pay. With how my body is healing right now, I can’t have a repeat of yesterday. It wouldn’t bode well for me. Especially if I have to keep that from my overbearing mother-hen of a brother. He may think he had been tactful, but trustfully, he can’t hide the pain in his eyes each time I stay silent about what the nightmare was about. It’s horrible what I’m doing to him, but he wouldn’t believe me if I said what happened. He never did before. If he were to discover I got hurt, he would force me to tell the ‘truth’, and I would be forced to lie because ‘the villagers didn’t do it Nightmare, you’re just trying to make them look bad in my eyes. You don’t know how utterly disappointed I am in you right now. Now, if you tell what really happened, you won’t be punished as much.’ Moron. What do I find in you, sometime I wonder.

We are back to the tree, together, but I can’t find it in myself to talk a mountain like I’m used to, or be annoying. I didn’t even climb the tree (Dream doesn’t need to know I actually can’t. My ankle is swollen and it’s a miracle I have hidden it this far). My older brother steals glances here and now. ‘Good luck buddy, I ain’t revealin’ anythin’.’ I love him, I really do. But I’m not blind to the favoritism he has toward the villagers over me. Toward anything over me.

“ Nightmare, I wanted to kno- - Please don’t. - What? - Please don’t talk. I just… Want to embrace this moment, just you and me.”

… Okay, what?! Why did I say that ? This doesn’t sound like me at all. Fuck. Oh shit. What do I do now? He’s gonna think I’m weird, and with what happened this morning -afternoon…whatever!- he’s not letting this go for a while. Great… Oh fuck my life. I turn my head away so that he won’t see my embarrassment.

“Is tha-… Are you sure? You can always go home if you don’t feel well. - I feel fantastic, thank you very much!”

**

We spend the rest of the day in quiet and calm. It’s been so long since the last time we were together for that much period of time. I can’t stop the smile on my face, and looking at Dream, he can’t either. I look at my room and my grin wither. Of course, my sibling noticed:

“Nightmare, is everything okay?”

I don’t say anything for a while, debating the best course of action.

“Dreamy, can I… No, it’s stupid, forget it. Good night!”

But before I can escape, he takes a hold of my wrist and turn me around. His eyes shine in the dark, and give a kind warm to our surrounding. He doesn’t speak, gathers me in his arms like a kitten before entering his room. He places me on the bed.

“Stay here, I’ll go get your pajamas. I’ll help with the nightmares, I promise.”

Once we are both ready for the night, he takes me in his arms again, before shielding us with a thick cover. My blush glows in the dark, and I’m thankful he closed his eyes. I never thought I would get to sleep next to my crush. He falls asleep before I do. My heart is racing against my ribcage, I don’t know how to make it silent. I look Dream inhaling slowly, not sure if I should go back to my room or not. But soon, I drift comfortably into a deep slumber.

After that, everything is peaceful, quiet and calm.

--

Next chapter : https://alakema.tumblr.com/post/646041076608729088/ds-dreammare-burn

[lokiandbuckyaremine]

Can You Keep a Secret?

Prompt: “I have a idea for a loki one shot if you do not mind. One where the reader is the teams innocent ray of sunshine and everyone loves and and tries to keep her away from loki. But of course they end up dating and the team finds them kissing or something and they freak out. With promte 1!” ~ @marvelloonie​

Prompt 1: I should have told you a long time ago...

Warnings: Fluff and soft Loki for the reader, language, and more kissing and fun with your favorite God of Mischief. 

(Prompt List) ~ REQUESTS OPEN

MASTERLIST

The taste of plastic filled your mouth as you continuously chewed on your pen, waiting for this meeting to be over. Tony was rambling on about new approaches for missions, since the world was changing and he wanted to keep his “ducks” in a row. Looking around the room at your fellow Avengers, you could see that many other people were just like you....bored out of their mind! Except Steve and Roadie cause they always tried to be the “good friends”. Nat was half asleep on your shoulder and Wanda was playing with her magic under the table on the other side of you. But when your eyes met a certain man, you couldn’t help but shift in your seat. Loki stared at you until you noticed his motion to leave the room. Smiling, you excused yourself to the bathroom and gently lifted Nat off of you.

Walking down the hallway, searching for the handsome God, you suddenly felt a strong pair of hands on your waist. “I could tell that my love could use some distraction from that pathetic meeting.” Giggling, you turned around in his grasp and started to pepper his face with kisses. “Loki, we can’t keep doing this. They are going to find out soon enough.” He pouted down at you and shrugged. “Would that be such a bad thing, my darling?” He checked the hallway before dragging you into a closet so you could both talk. “Loki...you know how much they wouldn’t approve of me, an Avenger, dating the guy who nearly killed all of New York and Asgard.” You threw your hands on your hips and gave him a very stern look. 

It was no lie, the God of Mischief had a HUGE soft spot for you that he remained to hide from everyone else, protecting his reputation. But on the other-hand he wanted to show the world just how much he fell for you and changed in the process. His soft hands cupped your face as he traced your cheekbone, and stared at your eyes willingly. “Y/N, I’m not sure I can keep us a secret anymore. There’s no reason why a guy like me can’t have his happy ending too and show her off. But if you want to wait for the right moment, then I guess I’ll suck it up for however long.” He rolled his eyes in defeat and went for the door of the closet, but you grabbed his arm. “Thank you, baby. But hey, we came in here for a reason. Don’t leave a girl hanging.” You winked as you started to toy with the hem of your shirt. He growled in response and hoisted you up on his hips as he crashed his lips on yours. Needless to say you did NOT make it back to that meeting.

The both of you remained to keep things “professional” as you completed your day to day tasks. Loki would drop winks or tease you here and there, but nothing too odd for the team to notice. They made it a point to protect you from having any serious interaction with him because he has a history of doing some really unexpected things, and they know how good of a person you are. Innocent, to say the least. Thor knew his brother but he also watched over you just in case. He would tell you constantly, “Lady Y/N, you are way too good for this greasy weasel,” thinking it was funny to tease his handsome brother like that. It was extremely hard to keep this a secret even if it has only been a few months you’ve been seriously dating. Loki was such a great friend before feelings were revealed and that wasn’t something you could hide willingly, but a promise is a promise. That is, until one morning....

Trudging down the stairs into the common room, you rubbed the sleepiness out of your eyes and headed to the fridge for a morning snack. You heard a few giggles and murmurs behind you, so you turned to see what was up. The entire team was staring at you, some had smirks and some had unpleasant faces drawn on them. “Uh, can I help you guys or can I not get milk in the morning?” Crossing your arms, you stared at Nat for a response seeing she was the one smirking and giggling to herself. “Girl, isn’t that Loki’s shirt?”, she asked pointing to the oversized green shirt that hung at your knees. You gulped and smiled, trying to come up with some stupid excuse that wouldn’t blow your cover. “Uh yea, I spilled some toothpaste on my pjs and he offered his top. Wasn’t that nice?” You resumed pouring a glass of milk, but Thor soon chimed in. “Uh, Loki’s room is on the 3rd floor. You mean to tell me you traveled all the way upstairs for a shirt, even when there are about 4 others living on your floor with shirts?” 

Spinning around on your heels to respond, Loki no sooner showed up shirtless. “Morning, pathetic mortals, half mortals, and soldiers.” Bucky snickered at his greeting and his shirtless state. “Yup, something happened in that room.” He whispered to Steve and Sam. Your gaze met Bucky’s and you shot him a glare as he held his hands up in defense. “We’re just friends, Barnes. Lay off.” Resuming back to the sticky situation at hand, you smiled to Loki. “Good morning, sir. I was just telling how nice you were this morning when I spilled toothpaste. He could tell I was in a cranky mood and he just offered his shirt, no harm done.” You shrugged and looked to Loki, raising your eyebrows to signal him to back you up. He laughed nervously and gestured to the team. “Oh yes, dear y/n spilled quite a bit of toothpaste on her pjs, so I offered her mine. And man can she be a bitch in the morning.” Internally you nearly died and wanted to smack Loki, but you knew he was doing this to cover. The team continued to snicker and shrug as they resumed their breakfast. 

Finally having a glass of milk, you left them and headed for your room. But once again you were stopped mid-hallway by the man himself. “I told you to stay in my room for a little longer and to put a shirt on! We nearly lost our cover.” Loki smirked and pulled your waist flush against his. “Oh darlin, it’s fine. We covered well. Plus it is way too damn hot in this tower.” Loki looked over your figure and bit his lip. There was no denial that you looked damn sexy in his shirt and a pair of boy shorts. “Sure, but ‘a bitch’, really?” You playfully smacked his chest as he started to kiss you neck. “I had to come up with something, my love. I don’t mean it. But you certainly loved being called other things last night.” You could feel him getting hard against your stomach and you moaned slightly thinking about the mind-blowing time you had last night.

“Apology accepted.” You giggled and pulled him in for a kiss. Heat flooded through your body as his soft lips devoured yours, dampening your panties in the process. What a way to start your morning. You pulled him closer to deepen the kiss and his hands trailed lightly down your back. He grabbed a handful of ass, making you moan into his, allowing him access to swipe his tongue on your bottom lip. Breaking away from the kiss knowing where this was going, you grabbed his hand and began to lead him to your room, until a choir erupted behind you. “I KNEW IT!” You and Loki broke apart quickly and you put your hands out, pleading for the group to calm down. “Guys, I can explain.” It looked like Thor was near ready to murder his brother, but you held your hand up in defense. “Thor, I should have told you a long time ago, I love your brother. You don’t know him like I do.” His eyes shot between you and Loki, and his shoulders sagged at the thought of you being sad. “I can’t say that I approve of this, but if you’re happy and my brother is happy then I guess it’s fine. But you’ve been warned. And when in the hell were you going to tell me?!” 

Loki was not pleased with his brother’s reaction, and began to step forward. A vein popping out of his forehead from the rage that filled him. “Brother, I love this woman and it may be news to you but I can be a good person. Do you not remember our childhood and how mother told us that we would once find someone that will change us? Can you imagine a life without Jane, because that’s how I would feel without y/n.” The girls awwed and the guys made gagging noises. Thor sighed in defeat and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You always have tricks up your sleeve, don’t you? But you’re right, I can’t imagine a life without Jane, and I also couldn’t imagine my brother falling back to his old ways.” Loki smiled softly. You were happy the brothers were coming around to be friends again, granted they had their moments. 

Tony came over and patted Loki’s shoulder. “Nice move, Reindeer Games. You got yourself one hell of a girl, but if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.” One last pat and he walked away with Rhoadie. Next, Steve, Bucky, and Sam walked over. Bucky looked furious because he too liked you a lot, but knew he missed his chance. Steve shook Loki’s hand and smiled at you. “Guess this means you’re part of the team, Loki. I know you’ll love and treat her well. BUT if you hurt her in any way--” Loki smirked and turned to him. “Let me guess, you’ll kill me? Evidently that will be the line (PLEASE TELL ME Y’ALL GOT MY REFERENCE)”. You giggled and watched the boys walk away. Turning back to Loki, you grabbed his hand and gave it a tug. “You really mean that you can’t imagine life without me?” He nodded and cupped your face. “Not a day goes by without you on my mind. Even if you get upset with my silly tricks or pranks, I know we love one another. I’m not perfect, darlin. But for you I’ll try to be.” You kissed his palm and sank into his hand. “Loki, you don’t need to be perfect. Stay your mischievous self and I’ll love every bit of you.” 

Loki’s heart was bursting with love and nothing more. He finally found his rock, his savior, and his soulmate. After another tug of his hand, you bit your lip and looked up at Loki smiling. “So what do you say you put your tricks and games to the test and play me in bed?” Loki instantly felt himself get aroused, so he scooped you up and ran to your room. Slamming the door behind you, you both fell on the bed in a moaning and kissing mess. A knock on the door pulled you from the heated moment and Tony’s voice followed. “Make sure you wrap it before you tap it, kids. Some of us still want to pretend we don’t know your secret.” The both of you rolled your eyes and resumed the kiss. “No matter what, I will always love you, my darling.” Loki smiled down at you, and you swear you saw your entire world in front of your face. He was yours, tricks and all, and you couldn’t be happier.

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

A/N: Just a cute lil drabble. Everyone loves a trickster Loki and some teasing from the team. PLEASE LIKE, REBLOG, AND COMMENT! 

Tag List (Open): @jobean12-blog @littlenerdgirl16 @jokesonjess @jewels2876 @mashtons-dirtbag @hernameiswhatt @ballyhoobarnes @lauxeyson @thiddlestoff @thatbitchsaidhi @marvelous-heroimagines @iamwarrenspeace @violentlybarnes @moondancewrites @toddneilanderperry @mizz-kraziii @lovelybones81 @thinemineours @godohammers @buckywhoops @thatfangirl16​ @thummbelina​ @notyourtypicalrose

[writer-rochelle]

In the Still of the Night: Javier Peña x reader

(a/n originally this was a steve randle fic I cooked up once upon a sleepless night. but after re-reading it I decided to turn it into a javi one shot because pedro pascal owns my ass. this takes during season 2, specifically episode 6. Also for plot’s sake pretend you are a nurse who used to work with Connie) 

Javier trudged up the small flight of stairs that led to the front door of the apartment building. It had been another late night stuck behind a desk. Another late night with a plethora of leads that inevitably led nowhere. It had taken the pot of coffee he and Murphy had been drinking to gradually turn into hot burnt bean flavored water for the two exhausted Agents to finally throw in the towel. Maybe Javier could convince (y/n) to let him steal some of the gourmet coffee she had stashed at his place. 

Recently, he had taken to staying longer and later, trying desperately to weasel in the information he received from Los Pepes without causing suspicion. Javier knew he was on thin ice with Steve after that incident at the checkpoint when they were close to catching Blackie. It was a wonder his friend hadn’t let anything slip, but then again he knew Murphy was more inclined to let Javier deal with his shit on his own. Besides, he had told Steve he could handle it. Couldn’t he? 

Javier signed, leaning his forehead against the cool wooden door to his apartment. How had he never noticed how truly exhausted he was? He felt heavy, weighed down by all that had been happening in Columbia lately. His feet felt like cinder blocks as he took a step back to unlock the door. The seasoned agent wanted nothing more than to eat, sip an ice-cold beer, take a shower, and collapse into bed. Maybe he would be lucky enough to sleep soundly with little to no nightmares. Undisturbed till his alarm would sound off early the next morning. 

"Damn it", he groaned, searching blindly for his apartment key. He had forgotten to put it back on his key ring after he had made a copy for (y/n). He exhaled in relief, having found the piece of metal nestled in the pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket.  

‘I told you to put it back on there! One day you’re gonna lose that damn thing for sure, and I promise I’m not giving you my copy to get in!’, Javier smirked imagining his girlfriend scolding him. Her voice would be tinted with laughter, her threat empty. The pair had each other wrapped around their respective fingers. There wasn’t anything (within reason) that the young nurse wouldn’t do for Javier. And when the used to be bachelor was told he was whipped he simply shrugged and said, “Listen, when you really care for someone you’ll do whatever it takes to show them that. (y/n) says jump? I say how high.”

Much to the surprise of his colleagues (Steve included),  Javier had moved past the honeypot method to get what he wanted from certain informants. And to add more to the surprise, (y/n) was very much aware of the man Javier Pena used to be. It never ceased to amaze him how open-minded she was. Most women would have run-away after being told of the things he’d seen and done in the field. “At the end of the day, you come home in one piece to me. But don’t think about trying that crap again while you’re with me.” she had said one night during one of their few late-night conversations. 

"(y/n),cariño? You still here?", Javier called into the seemingly empty apartment. He stepped in, closing and locking the front door before moving towards the living room area where he threw his leather jacket over the arm of the cream-colored couch. All the lights were off, except the one in the kitchen. He turned on a lamp, the white envelopes sitting on the coffee table littered with some paperwork caught his eye. He’d deal with it tomorrow. 

"Babe?" he called again, climbing the steps that led up into the kitchen. He glanced at the clock built into the stove, the neon green glowing numbers reading 12:30. He spotted a plate of food resting on the small circle table, and a pink sticky note stuck to the top. He smiled softly, wondering how she managed to take care of herself, her busy workday, and still make time to cook for him. 

Javi,

I hope you came home at a decent hour. I’m still here, had a long day. You missed the dust bunnies I excavated from under your couch. 

Love, (y/n)

It read, her neat handwriting taking up little space on the small piece of paper. Javier paused a moment. Dust bunnies? Had she cleaned his apartment? He took a quick look around the area laid out in front of him. Gone were the empty bottles and cups he usually left lying around. The thin film of dust that usually graced his small television screen was gone, and it actually smelled nice in the room. The musty male and cigarette odor had been replaced with the smell of cleaning products and a candle she had left burning on the stove. Placing the note down, he turned to blow it out; the time now read 12:40. Javier turned to the fridge, grabbed a beer and took his lukewarm dinner in front of the TV in the adjoined living room. Maybe he could take a crack at some of those papers still sitting out there. 

[One hour later]

Javier woke with a start, the black and white static on the tv illuminating the room. He blinked blearily, standing up to stretch.  How long had he been asleep? He meandered over to the kitchen, disposing of his empty plate and bottle. The stove time now reading 3:00. 

‘May as well just head to bed, no point in showering now.’ Javier thought, making his way into his bedroom, turning off the few remaining lights as he went. 

He stood staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. Not necessarily enthralled with the tired, grumpy looking man staring back at him. The past few months had taken their toll on him, the bags under his eyes adding on a year or two. It didn’t help that  his vision hadn’t been up to par as of late either. He refused, however, to get glasses until absolutely necessary. He could already hear the jokes that would be made at his expense. “Having trouble in any other departments Pena?”

Rolling his eyes, he shut off the bathroom light and shivered as the cool ac hit his bare legs and chest. Clad in only his boxers, he moved out into the hallway, trudging zombie-like into his bedroom, his dark brown eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkroom as he quietly shut the door behind him. Javier picked up on (y/n)’s soft breathing as she slept, everything but her head swallowed up by the thin white blanket on their bed. It was a wonder she had slept through the noise he had been making since he had gotten home hours earlier. She really must have had a long day. Ever since Connie and Olivia had left back to the States, the (y/h/c) nurse had taken more hours, helping to fill in the spot her blonde friend had left. And in some ways, maybe Steve had taken to staying longer to avoid an empty apartment. Something Javier had once been used to, but now the thought of having to start sleeping alone in his queen-sized bed made him cringe. 

An orange street light filtered in through his blinds, casting a soft spotlight onto the bed, drawing him closer. The "spotlight" shone on (y/n), illuminating the soft unique features of her face. Her mouth slightly open as quiet snores slipped through. Javier yearned to freeze time. To simply lay in this lumpy bed, with the most beautiful kind-hearted woman he’d ever met. His mother had only been the one other woman who cared this much about him, and it hurt that couldn’t she meet her. Javi was sure she’d love the passionate young woman as much as he did. He crept closer slipping under the covers, curling his arm around her waist to draw her closer to his bare chest. He lay a soft kiss to the back of her head, the sweet scent of her shampoo clouding his senses. He was content. 

“Javier? Is everything okay? What time is it?" the young woman mumbled her voice heavy with sleep, raising her head slightly to catch a glimpse of the alarm clock on the bedside table. 3:30 am.

"It's me, baby, everything is fine. Go back to sleep."

 "Okay. I love you."

"Love you too," the tired man said, kissing the back of her head as she fell back asleep. Javier lay awake for only a few moments more, finally succumbing to the slumber that was now his master.

Javier Pena knew that when the morning came he would have to return to that godforsaken office, and shift through the same pile of papers, and deal with the weight of his actions resting on his shoulders. But for the time being as he lay next to the love of his life in the fleetingly late hours of the night/early morning, he could pretend that he was just another man off the street, far away from Escobar, far from cocaine, and far from Columbia. 

A reality that only existed within the still if the night.

(i hope you all enjoyed my first Javi fic....and I hope i didn’t write him too OOC. Let me know what yall think, and my requests are open! more work to come soon. <3 roach) 

taglist: @sunshinepascal (dm to be added!) 

[dontcare77ghj]

We match

“Don’t you dare!” You laughed. Bucky smirked at you and wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you in the air as you shrieked with laughter. “Bucky no!”

“Bucky, yes.” He laughed as he flung you over his shoulder. He held you securely as you lightly hit him on the back.

“Well what’s going on here?” Natasha asked, voice full of mirth.

“Bucky’s not letting me go!”

“Y/N won’t watch movies with me!”

The both of you spoke at once, excited voices overlapping each other. Nat watched you from the doorway, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Nat save me!” You cried dramatically, reaching a hand out to the redhead.

“Fear not for I shall save you from this heathen.” Natasha exaggerated, moving forward to grab you from Bucky’s grasp.

“You shall never get her from me.” Bucky said, joining in on the new game. “Y/N is mine.”

You laughed loudly as the three of you ran through your apartment. The game of chase continued for a few more moments until Bucky, gently, dropped you onto the bed. He followed suit and jumped down onto the bed next to you, Natasha soon laying on your other side.

“That was fun.” Bucky smugly said. Nat leaned over and lightly wacked him in the chest.

“Yeah something about being thrown around on someone’s shoulder, really just screams fun.” You muttered sarcastically causing Nat to laugh.

“So, mean to me. What did I do to deserve two mean girls?” Bucky asked no-one in particular.

“You love us.” Nat smiled at the pouting man, who smiled.

“That I do doll face.” Bucky said with soft eyes.

“Good because I don’t run around like that for just anyone.” You smirked, as Nat buried her head in the crook of your neck.

“You weren’t even running!” Bucky exclaimed.

“Watching you two is tiring enough!” You laughed at his indignation.

“I’ll show you tired.” He smirked running his fingers across your ribs.

“Don’t you dare- Bucky no!” You shrieked with laughter as he and Nat tickled you, until the three of you were breathless from laughter.

“They’re so soft with you.” Clint commented, as he sat across from you. The two of you were sat at the bar in Stark Towers, at one of Tony’s famous parties.

“What do you mean?” You asked, tearing your eyes away from where you were watching Bucky laugh at something Steve had said.

“Here, they’re Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanoff, the Winter Solider and Black Widow. Infamous ex-assassins. With you they’re gentle, at ease. I’ve known Nat for a, a really long time, and I’ve never seen her this at ease.”

“I like it when they’re relaxed.” You admitted, turning your gaze back to Nat and Bucky at the pool table. “It makes me feel like I’m doing something. Helping them out in some way, no matter how small.”

“You don’t need to try to help them.” Clint said making you look up. “You’re helping them by just being yourself.”

“красотка!” Natasha exclaimed as she dropped onto the couch next to you. “I missed you.” She slurred as she dragged you closer to herself. 

 “It hasn’t been that long, Nat.” you murmured grabbing her hand. “Geez your wasted.” You commented seeing the glazed look in her eyes and taking note to how red her cheeks were. 

 “I only had a little.” She said leaning her head against your shoulder. “Bucky’s being mean.” Nat pouted causing Clint to laugh. 

 “Why’s that, Nat?” You asked running your fingers through her hair. “He won’t give me any of his drink.” She whined, making you smile. 

 “That’s because Buck’s got special liquor. He’s got that stuff from Thor, you can’t drink that baby.” You said, as if talking to a child.

“Jesus she is wasted.” Clint laughed looking over the red head. “Maybe you should think about taking her home.” He said to which you nodded

 “I think that’s a good idea.” You laughed moving the red head next to Clint. “Can you watch her while I talk to Buck?” You asked and the archer nodded. “I’ll be back in a second, okay, Nat?” You half asked, half stated to the pouting woman.

 “You’ll be right back?” She asked raising an eyebrow. 

 “Yes, I will.” You promised before walking over to where Bucky was standing with Steve. “Hiya boys.” You greeted the two super soldiers. 

 “Hey doll.” Bucky greeted cheerfully, wrapping an arm around your waist.

 “Hi Y/N.” Steve greeted with a smile.

 “Buck, just letting you know, I’m taking Nat home now. So, are you going to be able to get home okay?” You asked your brunette boyfriend.

 “Why are you taking Nat?” He asked looking around, before spying your girlfriend with Clint. 

 “She’s completely off her head.” You said with a small smile. “I thought I’d get her home before she does something she’d regret. So, are you okay to get home on your own?”

“Doll, I can just come home with you two now.” Buck said handing his drink to Steve. 

 “Buck it’s fine. I can take care of Nat on my own. Just have some fun, okay?” You said as Bucky grabbed your arm and pulled you into him. 

 “Baby doll.” He murmured into your ear. “I would rather be with my girls, than at some party. Let me drive home.”

 “You’ve been drinking, Buck.” You reminded the man, winding your arms around his neck. 

 “Then you can drive, but I’m coming with you.” He said firmly before turning to Steve and saying he’d see him later. 

“Bye you two.” Steve called as you walked over to your girlfriend. 

 “See, Nat.” Clint started. “She said she’d come back and look who’s she’s brought.” He said gesturing to the two of you. Natasha spun around on her chair, almost falling off in the process, and smiled widely.

 “красотка! Дорогой!” Nat laughed jumping out of the chair and weaseled her way into the middle of the two of you. “My favorite lovers.” She said, loudly, wrapping her arms around both of your waists. 

 “Hey, Nat.” Bucky hummed, reciprocating her actions. 

 “Thanks for watching her, Clint.” You said to the archer who waved a hand.

 “No worries, I got plenty of teasing material to last a lifetime now.” He smirked. The three of you said your goodbyes before guiding Nat out of the party. 

 “You’re really pretty.” Nat said to no-one in particular. “Really, really pretty.”

 “You’re really pretty too, Nat.” You told the girl as Bucky strapped her into the back seat. 

 “I want to fuck you.” Nat slurred, her hands reaching forward to grab your shoulders, as you sat in front of her.

 “Maybe later, baby.” You said as you began to drive away from the tower. 

 “But I want to.” Nat whined giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. 

 “Nat, Y/N is driving.” Bucky reasoned. “You can’t have sex with her now.”

 “You’re not driving.” Nat stated. “Why don’t you come back here then?”

 “Because I’m navigating.” He said. A loud snort escaped your mouth causing Bucky to look over at you. “And what’s that supposed to mean, dragostea mea?”

 “You got lost on the way to the store.” You said with smirk. 

 “You gave me the wrong map.” He complained. 

 “I gave you the right map, you were reading it upside down.” You explained shaking your head at the man. “Your such an old man.” You grumbled under your breath.

 “I’m going to ignore that, dragostea mea.” Bucky said turning to look back at Natasha. “Nat, put your shirt on!” Bucky yelled. You looked into the mirror to see that had, indeed, taken off her shirt.

 “Make me!” She cried, before letting out a loud laugh. Bucky turned in his seat and forced the red head back into her shirt.  “You ruin all my fun.” She pouted.

 “Hey, Nat, how ‘bout if you keep your shirt on now, you can take it back off when we get home?” You bargained making the red head smile.

 “Yes!” She cheered pumping her hand into the air. You and Bucky let out quiet laughs as the red head began to ramble about everything and nothing. After a few minutes you could see her eyes beginning to droop but she continued to talk. 

 “Hey, Nat. Before we get home, how about you have a lay down? You know, just to make sure you’re not too tired.” Bucky said looking at Natasha. The former assassin gazed at the brunette with droopy eyes before nodding and laying down.

 “Five minutes.” She muttered laying down on the backseat, she quickly fell asleep much to your amusement.

“We don’t get to see her drunk that often.” You commented, tearing your eyes away from her.

 “She was stressed.” Bucky said simply. “Has been since that mission, I think she stole a bit of Stevie’s drink.” He commented.

 “I hate that she never tells us when she’s feeling like that.” You grumbled as you pulled into your drive way.

 “Why’s that doll?” Bucky asked turning towards you. 

 “I want you two to be happy. I don’t want you two to have to keep this stuff bottled up.” You said looking at your boyfriend. 

 “Doll we are happy.” Bucky told you grabbing your chin. “Before you this wasn’t who we were. We were grumpy spies who hated admitting we had any emotions. You make us so happy, doll. You make us better. We love you doll.” He added giving you a smile.

 “I love you too. Both of you.” You said glancing back at the still sleeping Russian. “I just really want you two to be happy.” 

 “And we are, I promise doll.” Bucky promised placing a kiss on your lips. “How about we put sleeping beauty to bed, and we order a pizza?” He suggested running his hand down your arm.

 “That sounds fantastic.” You said letting out a happy sound. “I swear Tony’s parties never have real food.” You said getting out of the car. Bucky laughed as he exited the car, he carefully picked up the sleeping red head followed you into your cozy home. 

 “Are we home yet?” Natasha asked groggily as she was tucked into bed. 

 “Yeah, we’re home, hon.” You affirmed and ran your hand down the side of her face.

 “Does this mean I can take my shirt off now?” She mumbled, leaning into your hand. 

 “How about you take it off tomorrow?” You suggested only getting the smallest of nods before she rolled over and fell back asleep. You smiled and placed a brief kiss on her head, then left to join Bucky in the living room. 

 “She asleep?” He asked pulling you into his arms. 

 “Like a baby.” You responded with a smile. He gave a hum and rested his head in your hair. “You ready to turn in too, Buck?”

 “I thought you wanted to get something to eat?” He questioned looking down at you. You smiled at the man and ran a hand through his hair. 

 “Yeah, but you’re asleep right here, and it’d be nice to go to sleep with you both. We can make a big breakfast tomorrow but for now I just want to lay with you both.” You answered. Bucky gave you a nod and allowed you to gently tug him into the bedroom. 

 The two of you quickly shed your party clothes and changed into something much more comfortable. You both slid into bed, Bucky laying in the middle of the three of you, leaving Nat room to rush to bathroom if she needed. 

 “Night, doll.” Bucky murmured and pulled you in closer. 

 “Night, Buck.” You said giving him a kiss. The two of you fell asleep to the sounds of Nat’s gentle snores.  

 The sun was high by the time you woke. Bucky was still asleep, but Nat was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, you pulled yourself out of the mans grasp and rolled out of the bed. The man made a noise as you rolled away, you froze and watched as he pulled more of the blankets onto himself before silencing.

 Quietly, you walked out of your bedroom and made your way into the kitchen, the smell of bacon sizzling alerted you that someone was in the kitchen.

 “Nat?” You quietly called, walking into the kitchen, you saw the red head standing at the stove. She was clad in only sleep shorts and a singlet, and she looked stunning. 

 “Morning, возлюбленная.” Natasha greeted with a smile. You returned the smile and made your way behind the woman to wrap your arms around her waist. 

 “Morning, hon.” You replied. “How are you feeling this morning? Do you want me to take over, so you can sit?” You fretted. 

Natasha laughed slightly and patted her hand on top of yours. “I’m fine, возлюбленная. No headache, no throw up, nothing. I am 100% fine.” She assured giving you a kiss on the cheek before turning back to breakfast. “Take a seat, возлюбленная. Breakfast will be ready soon.” 

 “You’re in a good mood.” You commented, taking a seat at the table. “With the amount you drank last night, you should be throwing you a lung.”

 “I’m Russian. A bit of liquor never put me out for long.” She responded placing a plate on the table. “Bucky!” She yelled, a loud thump sounded down the hall followed by a curse. “Leave the gun in the bedroom, it’s only breakfast.” She called as she sat next to you. 

“If you didn’t want me to go for the gun, then you shouldn’t have screamed.” Bucky grumbled as he walked out of the bedroom.

“Didn’t you take the gun out of the bedroom?” You asked as you served yourself some breakfast. 

 “No that was the closet gun.” Nat told you as Bucky sat down on her other side. 

“How many guns do you have?” You questioned exasperated.

 “In the bedroom or the house?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of toast. 

 “You know what? I don’t even want to know.” You said with a shake of your head. Natasha and Bucky laughed, and Natasha wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

 “I know we’re a bit crazy with the guns, but they make us feel better, knowing there’s some protection for you here.” She said giving you a small smile. 

 “I know and I’m fine having them around if that makes you feel better. You just need to give me map, I either can’t find the bloody things, or I find them at the wrong time.” You said with a smirk. 

 “We can manage that.” Bucky responded, he stretched his arm over the table and took your hand in his.

 “Now that that’s out of the way, we are not leaving this house today.” Natasha said as she stood with her plate. “We are going to sit around, eat the bad foods Steve doesn’t approve of and we are going to enjoy our time together.” She added giving the both of you a kiss. 

 “That sounds great, Nat, but I’ve got work this morning.” You said apologetically.

“No, you don’t.” She argued. “Stark can handle a day without you. I’ve already told him you’re not coming in today.”

“Nat you can’t just keep doing that.” You said rolling your eyes. “You know that man is a baby.”

 “Trust me doll, we know that all too well.” Bucky interjected with a smirk. 

 “I know you don’t like me doing it, but we need a break.” Natasha told you. “We’ve been on back-to-back missions for the last month and you’ve been working far too hard for that billionaire man-child. We need this time together.” 

“She’s not wrong.” Bucky said with a smile. “We’ve all been working too hard.” 

“We have been working really hard.” You conceded. 

 “Exactly!” Natasha exclaimed. “Now finish up your breakfast and then we’re going back to bed.”

 “Ooh back to bed. I like the sound of that.” Bucky said moving into the chair next to yours.

“Eat!” You laughed pushing his plate towards him. “Or you won’t be getting any sex.” 

 “Yes ma’am.” Bucky saluted and began eating with renewed vigor. Natasha and you laughed at the enthusiastic man and went back to discussing your plans for the day.  

Natasha and Bucky had been on a mission with the team for a month. You hadn’t heard from them at all in that time because of high risk this mission was. To stop yourself from worrying, you had thrown yourself into work. Pepper understood the worry that came with being an Avenger and was your rock during these types of missions. 

 The two of you were currently in the tower, working on some paper work that Tony had neglected to take care of. 

 “Pepper, next time you see Tony, smack him in the face for me.” You groaned as you went through a small mountain of paperwork. 

 “Already planning to.” The red head said with a smirk. You let out a sigh and stood, your neck cracking at finally getting some movement. 

 “I’m going to make a coffee, you want one?” You asked moving over the machine in the corner of the room. 

 “Please.” Pepper uttered leaning back in her chair. You had just grabbed two cups when the room went pitch black.      

“What just happened?” You questioned turning back to the red head. You couldn’t see anything as you fumbled your way back to the desk. 

 “Power must have failed.” Pepper muttered turning on her phone’s flashlight. “JARVIS. Come in, JARVIS.” Pepper commanded her phone. “Well that’s not a good sign.” She said after the AI failed to respond.

“Pep, please tell me you know to fire one of these.” You asked pulling two small handguns out of your handbag. 

 “Of course I do, but why?” Pepper queried taking a gun off of your hands.

“I don’t think were alone in here.” You told the woman. A loud series of bangs echoed in the hall outside your door, both you and Pepper tensed at the loud sounds. “Pepper call Happy, tell him where we are.” You ordered, raising your gun to the door, ready to fire at whoever entered. 

 “Happy, we’re in Tony’s office, someone’s attempting to break in-.” Pepper said immediately as the man answered the phone but cut herself off as the door burst open. 

 Even with your limited light you could see these people weren’t here to be any kind of help. 

“Pepper stay behind me.” You instructed before shooting at the people in front of you. You had only fired twice when someone threw a canister into the room. The hissing sound quickly filled the room, along with whatever gas was in the canister. 

Pepper and you began to cough violently. You doubled over, vision blurring, and attempted to reach for your gun, that you had dropped, but fell unconscious when something was bashed against your head.   

“Y/N, wake up please.” You heard as you groggily opened your eyes. The bright light in the room caused you to close your eyes quickly and let out a low groan. 

“Y/N, open your eyes, please.” The voice pleaded again.

“Pepper?” You groaned, slowly opening your eyes to see the redhead sitting across from you. She was sat in a chair with both her arms bound to the chair, taking a look down you were able to see you were bound in a similar way. “Damn it.” You cursed leaning your head back. 

“You can say that again.” Pepper said with a grimace. “Whose fault are we betting it was this time?” 

“I’m blaming, Tony. He probably pissed some asshole off.” You said pulling at your bindings.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Pepper muttered. 

 “Fuck.” You snapped as you stopped pulling at the bindings. “These assholes actually knew what they were doing.”

 “We’re going to be fine, Y/N. It’s not the first time we’ve dealt with this kind of thing.” Pepper soothed. You nodded at her, wincing at the pain in your head.

“I know that. I just hate this part, the waiting, I’d rather they hurry up so I can kick their ass.” You said closing your eyes. 

“No don’t go to sleep. We don’t know if you have a concussion.” Pepper reasoned making you groan. 

“It doesn’t feel like a concussion.” You uttered making the woman narrow her eyes at you.

“Do you remember what a concussion feels like?” Pepper interrogated causing you to shrug. 

“Bad.” 

“And how does your head feel now?” 

“Bad.” 

“I feel like Tony’s in the room with me now. You really are his sister.” Pepper said rolling her eyes.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You accepted turning your head to the side at the sound of the door opening. Three men walked into the room, two armed with large firearms, one stood in between you and Pepper, the other two each standing behind one of you. 

“I hope you find your accommodations to your liking, Miss Potts, Miss Stark.” The man in the middle said by way of greeting.

“It wasn’t a bad room, until you graced us with your repulsive mug.” You smirked. The man gave you a venomous smirk and then smacked you in the face. 

“You really are a Stark, aren’t you?” He said turning to Pepper. “How do you put up with the two of them?” 

“A lot of patience.” Pepper mentioned, nodding to herself. “Can we skip the customary bad guy spiel and just get straight into why we’re here?” Pepper asked looking at the man.

“As you wish. Mr. Stark stole something from us and you two are going to get it back for us.” He shrugged. 

“So, the usual.” You summarized. “Is that all we need?” You asked leaning in your chair to look at Pepper. 

“I think so.” She nodded, giving you the okay. 

“Great.” You grinned. You threw the chair to the ground, the wood easily breaking, and slipped the ties of your wrist. Grabbing a piece of wood, you stabbed it into the neck of the man behind you. He fell to ground, hands clutching at his bleeding neck. 

Quickly, you grabbed the gun out of his hand and shot the man behind Pepper. He also fell to the ground but didn’t make another move. You turned to the last man, who was standing in shock, and gave him a camera worthy smile. 

“Thank you for your hospitality.” You simpered and released another bullet into his chest. “You know you could have helped.” You said as you helped Pepper untie herself. 

“Yeah, but you looked like you knew what you were doing.” She said taking the other gun off the man’s corpse. “I want to say you shouldn’t have killed them, but they’re HYDRA, so no-one cares.” She commented spotting the patch on the man’s arm. 

“Fucking bastards.” You mumbled, opening the door a crack. “Ok bad news I think they heard the gun shots, worse news there’s about fifteen of them coming this way.” You added moving away from the door. 

 “Great.” Pepper remarked. The door was thrown open and you and Pepper fired shot after shot until all the HYDRA agents were on the ground. 

 “Let’s go.” You said and Pepper nodded. The two of you ran out of the room through the halls of the base, ducking behind corners and into rooms to avoid any agents in the facility.

“Damn it.” Pepper cursed as you ran into a dead end. You both turned around only to find yourselves outnumbered and out gunned. You raised your gun and attempted to shoot them but there were no bullets to shoot.

A command in German was shouted and you and Pepper were suddenly struggling against men who’d grabbed you.

“Get off!” You snarled as you were dragged away, along with Pepper. The two of you were dragged down another a hall and then thrown into another room. Before either of you could get your bearings, you were quickly strapped down onto chairs that vaguely resembled a dentist’s chair. 

 A burly man stepped towards you and gave you a loathsome grin. “Let’s get started.” He said with a heavy accent.    

 “Well that hurt.” You commented quietly. The men had spent what felt like hours trying to break you, but they had failed. The men had stormed out of the room in anger, after releasing you weren’t breaking, leaving you and Pepper to, finally, catch your breath.

“Yeah a little.” Pepper said breathily. “Now I really don’t feel bad about killing some of those assholes.” 

“Wish we could’ve got a couple more.” You said with a smirk, weakly, you turned your head to look at the woman in the chair next to you. Her breathing was erratic, she was covered in her own blood and you were pretty sure they had broken her wrist and leg. 

Though you knew you didn’t look much better, you yourself were covered in blood, your entire body was shaking from the electric shocks and your arm, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the mangled flesh. 

 “We’re going to be fine. We’re going to be okay.” Pepper said turning to look at you. You couldn’t find the energy to reply, only giving her a hum as your eyes began to close. “No, Y/N now is not the time to sleep. You must stay awake, this time isn’t a joke, this is serious. Don’t close your eyes.” Pepper pleaded. 

“M’tired.” You mumbled forcing your eyes open. Pepper had turned her head and was looking at you with panic in her eyes. 

 “I know, I know, but you have to stay awake.” She begged. “Tell me a story about something.”  

“About what?” You asked, looking at her with sleepy eyes. 

 “Anything. James, Natasha, tell me a story about Tony, anything just stay awake.” She said quickly. 

 “Did Tony ever tell you about the hamsters I got him?” you questioned with a breathy laugh. 

 “No, he didn’t, tell me more.” Pepper pressed.

 “When HYDRA killed our parents, I think I was about six, Tony really stepped up. He tried really hard to raise me right even though he was grieving himself. He still became the playboy, but he never brought them home, he never let me see him like that.

 I was about eight when I saw him have a breakdown. He got very drunk and when he got back home, he just started crying. He was telling me how scared he was to be raising me, how he thought he was going to fuck me up and all these things about how he worried he was going to die, or I was. 

 The next day I got the driver to take me to the pet store and I bought Tony two hamsters. I told him that if he could keep them alive, he could keep us alive.” You recalled, a loopy smile plastered to your face as Pepper quietly laughed.

 “I can’t believe he never told me this story.” Pepper said with a smile. 

 “The man doesn’t like showing he has those emotions. I believe it was Bruce who compared him to a robot once.” You remembered wistfully, eyes drooping as you began to drift off again. 

 “No, Y/N you have to stay awake. Tell me another story. Tell me something about Natasha and Bucky.” 

 “I love them.” You mumbled dozing off. “I really love them.” You said words slurring together, eyes closing. Pepper was begging you to stay awake, but the sound became inaudible as your eyes closed and the world faded to black.   

“Please don’t be dead. Please just open your eyes.” A guttural sob through the darkness. The sounds of people yelling, the feeling of flesh on yours and what felt someone running with you was all you could register. 

 You couldn’t find the strength to open your eyes, but you wanted to. All you wanted was to open your eyes and tell this person you were okay, but you couldn’t. 

“возлюбленная, it’s me. I’m here, Bucky’s here, Tony’s here. You’re going to be fine I promise. You’re going to be fine.” Natasha’s voice was the last thing you heard before you fell into the dark abyss again.   

The second time you woke up it was to the sound of steady beeping. After a few attempts you were able to open your eyes. The bright white of the hospital room was the first thing you recognized, you let out a whine at the bright color, closing your eyes again. 

“Doll.” Bucky’s voice came from your side. Flopping your head to the side you opened your eyes, again, slowly. “Hey, pretty girl.” He greeted once you focused on him. 

“Buck.” You stated receiving a nod from the man as he moved closer to you. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Where am I? Where’s Pepper?” You asked attempting to sit up, you let out a low groan and Bucky quickly, and gently, pushed you back down. 

“Lay down, doll. You’re in the tower infirmary, you’re okay, Pepper’s okay. You’re both fine.” Bucky assured in a soothing tone. 

“Where’s Nat?” You questioned. 

“She went to shower. Steve and Tony have been forcing us to take showers and get out of this room once every few days.” He explained. 

“How long have I been out?” You asked watching as your boyfriend tensed. 

“Two weeks.” He said shortly. “It was touch and go for a while.” 

“Why?” You asked sitting up a bit. “Buck what aren’t you telling me?” You asked him after he hesitated. 

“You lost a lot of blood.” He finally admitted. “And they saved you but, they couldn’t-. Doll they couldn’t save it.” 

“Save what?” You questioned looking down at yourself. You went to five yourself a pat down, when you realized. “Oh.” You stammered. Tears stung at your eyes as you took in the stump that was left of your arm. 

“There was too much damage, and this was the only way you could keep most of it.” Bucky explained as he pulled you into his arms. You wiped the tears from your eyes before burying your head into his neck. 

“You’re going to be okay. It’s alright. I’m sorry, doll.” Bucky kept uttering soothing things before pulling back slightly. “Do you want me to get Tony and Nat?” He asked and you nodded. “JARVIS, alert Tony and Nat that Y/N is awake.” He commanded pulling you back into his arms. 

 Not even a minute later the sound of pounding footsteps caused you to look up. You looked up just in time to see Natasha barrel into the room with Tony on her heels.

“возлюбленная.”

“Y/N.” The two breathed and rushed forward to pull you into hugs. 

“I love you. I’m sorry. I love you so much.” Natasha whispered into your ear, squeezing you gently.

“I love you too.” You assured with a smile. Tony pulled you into his arms after Nat and squeezed you firmly.

“You’re never leaving my sight again.” He stated as he hugged you. “I love you, I promise we’ll fix this. I promise.”

“I know. I know. I love you too big brother.” You didn’t leave the infirmary for another week. For that whole week you were visited by the team, Pepper and Tony, who dutifully rolled Pepper in. Natasha and Bucky didn’t leave you until you were discharged and even then, made sure you knew they were there if you needed anything.

The loss of your arm didn’t hit until you were back home. Natasha and Bucky had held you tightly as your broke down. The two were your rocks, they made sure you felt safe, helped you with tasks you couldn’t accomplish without the use of your right arm and had just made you feel loved. They stuck by your side during the whole process and you couldn’t be more thankful for them.

“Are you sure about this?” Tony asked as he prepped his equipment.

“Of course, I am, I designed the thing.” You stated with a smirk. Tony nodded and continued to get ready.

“We’re right here for you, возлюбленная.” Natasha assured from next to you. You turned your head to smile at your girlfriend and boyfriend, who sat by your side.

“We won’t leave.” Bucky promised, taking your hand in his.

“Thank you.” You said squeezing his hand. He nodded and placed a soft kiss to your brow and moved back so Nat could kiss your cheek.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Tony said drawing your attention back to him. “Are you sure you want to be awake for this?” He asked again.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You responded and watched as Tony picked up the tools he needed. You two had spent months on this and it was finally time to test it out.

It took Tony an hour and a half to attach your new arm. It was attached to what remainder of a tricep you had and looked very similar to Bucky’s, Shuri herself had personally gifted you with the adamantium needed to make such a thing. You could barely feel the process and weren’t worried in the slightest during. You were surrounded by the people you love; how could you be?

“It’s done.” Tony said backing away. “Try it out.” You sat up slowly and stared down at the adamantium arm. You focused on wanting to flex the arm, an excited laugh left your mouth as the arm followed the brain’s control.

“It worked.” You laughed. “It actually worked.” You exclaimed. You hopped off the table and tightly hugged Tony tightly.

“Easy, Y/N. You’re going to break my ribs.” Tony sighed as he patted you on the back.

“Sorry, Tony.” You apologized and let him go. You moved over to Natasha and pulled her into a hug. “Look, Nat.” You declared showing her you new arm.

“I see, возлюбленная. It’s fantastic.” Nat said with a smile.

“Buck, what’d you think?” You asked the man. Bucky smiled and held his arm next to yours.

“We match.” He said simply. You smiled and he pulled you and Nat into a tight hug. “We love you, doll. With or without an arm, you are still our girl.” Bucky told you squeezing you two tightly.

“I love you, both of you.” You said looking at both Natasha and Bucky. 

“Ditto.” Natasha said with a smirk. The three of you stood together, holding each other so tight it almost hurt, for a very long time. Until…

“So what, no love for Tony?” Your obnoxious brother said making you laugh. 

“You ruined the moment, Stark.” Natasha stated as she pulled Tony into the group hug.

Here you were safe, here you could all heal together. Everything was alright in the end.

Leave feedback. Give it a like. Leave me a comment. Buy me a coffee. Leave a prompt and pairing in the comments.

Coming soon.;

Natasha x reader x Bucky 

Steve x reader x Bucky

Natasha x reader x Steve? 

[renee-writer]

Songs of An Outlander Chapter 11 The Darkness Was Total

In that room, deep in the darkness, Geneva is forced to watch as the two men have sex. She is filled with sickness and regret. If it wasn’t for the duel that killed her father, she would be married to a rich man and not forced to be working for these two.

After they are through, Black Jack turns to her. “Now, it is time for the other games to begin." He walks over to her and her darkness is total. She never sees the light again.

Jamie, Claire, and Murtagh head home.

“I really felt uncomfortable around Lt. Grey. I was shocked to see him with a woman. I wonder if Lt. Randall is there too.”

“From what you two have told me, I agree.” Murtagh responds with a ‘ hmmpf’. “Claire will you take Murtagh with you when you go to work at the hospital and I would feel more comfortable if Mary didn’t take Fergus out of the house without a male member of the staff.”

“I agree with all that.”

When they got home, they head in to check on Fergus. They find both him and Mary asleep. They both kiss the baby's head before slipping out.

“Claire, will you join me in bed tonight. I would sleep better if I feel you beside me.”

“Yes but you come to my bed. Also please remind me to tell you and Fergus the rest of Snow White tomorrow.”

“Aye Claire, I will. I am anxious to hear how the tale ends.” She smiles and turns to her room. He follows. He helps loosen her laces and such with shaking hands. He then slips down to his own shirt before joining her.

She curls up against him. “Some day my prince will come.” She softly sings before kissing his belly. He shivers. She sings the verse over before kissing his chest where his shirt is open. She then finds his lips and the song is forgotten. Later, as they both are falling asleep, she whispers, “I do love you Jamie Fraser.” He smiles as they both drift off.

A few days later, they receive another invite from the king. He invites them to a garden party with the instructions to bring more of his ‘ fabulous spirits'. He also asks Jamie’s expertise on horse flesh be utilized.

“A garden party isn’t as fancy. It won't require such an extravagant dress.” Jamie relays as he tells her of the invite.

“I thought you liked my red dress.” Said with an arched eyebrow and a smirk.

“Oh I do. Really. But, it seems I should be the only one with such a favored view.”

“Touche'. So, shall we take Mary and Fergus?”

“No. I think with all that is going on, they would be safer here under Murtagh’s watchful eye.”

In the end she choices a brown and yellow dress that flares wonderfully about her under the bell skirt. The bondice is high and tight to Jamie's relief. He is dressed every inch the Scottish gentleman, with the only difference that he wears tight breeks instead of a free flowing kilt, to his intends dissatisfaction.

“It is easier for riding. Besides, I didn’t wish the French lasses wondering about what is under it, aye?”

“Yes I agree with that.”

They arrive that Sunday with two cases of wine that they give to the steward. As they stroll in arm in arm, they are approached by Louise', a French lady of Claire’s former acquaintance.

“He is a handsome one, your Scott. You are keeping him, oui'?”

“Oui'. That I am.” They walk farther in and the king comes up. The ladies curtsy and Jamie bows. “Your Majesty.” He says for the group.

“James, it is so good you are here, you and your lovely intended. I am assured you brought some of your lovely wine?”

“Aye, your Majesty. It is with your steward.”

“Tre' bien.” Another man approach’s and Claire feels Jamie tighten up beside her. “Allow me to introduce the Duke of Sandringham. Lord James Fraser and his intended, Lady Claire Beauchamp.” They bow and curtsy to each other. That is when Lt. Randall approaches. Claire shudders and Jamie steps half way in front of her.

“Lt. Randall, you enter my court in the uniform of the English. It isn’t done sir.”

“My pardon, sire.” He bows but all around can feel his contempt. The king, in clear dismissal, turns his back towards him and towards Jamie and Claire.

“Shall we go check out the horses James, with Miss Beauchamp, of course?”

“Aye your Majesty.” They walk away but they can feel the others eyes on them. Claire holds tighter to Jamie.

As they leave, the Duke turns to Randall. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay away. I can handle this without you or your beastly ways. The prince is in Paris trying to raise money for the cause. I wish to stop him without the drama you bring.”

“I don't give a bloody hell about your politics. That bitch got away from John and I before we could have any fun. I want her to pay and him,” he stops and licks his foul lips,” Well him I just want.”

“As do I. I want to see him punished for what his family did. Stealing my money and land. A Duke in name only. It is intolerable. Any money raised for the cause, well, I shall see it comes to me.”

As they walk behind the King, Claire whispers to Jamie, “Don't trust the Duke. He is a traitor playing both sides against the middle. A pretend Jacobite that would see the prince dead.”

“That weasel. He doesn’t even deserve to be called a Duke.”

“Agree. I will tell you more at home.” He stop for a quick kiss before they hurry to catch up to His Highness.

At the house, Mary sits in the Great Room with Fergus, stacking blocks with him. They both laugh as he knocks the tower down.

“You naughty boy.” She teases.

Suddenly the peace is shattered as the body of Geneva is hurled through the window.

[polygamyff]

31. Part 4

My dad is on my mind, it’s weighing me down at the thought of him not being around. I don’t know, something is annoying me. I wanted my dad to put Reign down because he uses a walking stick, for him to not be using it and doing all that I know right now he is in pain, he doesn’t like to use it at all. He hates the thing but he has no choice, even money can’t buy you health and honestly I wish it could. I just woke up and Robyn has left the bed so I’m just laid here thinking, it’s going to break my heart to see people happy that he’s not here and I know they going to come for me. I wouldn’t let him down, he’s right. I got to do it for my own family and protect them “why is Adam here!?” Robyn walked in, all guns blazing already. She didn’t even give me a chance, she seems a little angry “well, he is here to clearly dress you?” I said confused “yes, but why?” shuffling up in the bed “because you are going to the Prince of Dubai’ home Robyn, you cannot just wear anything. His wife will be there, his family. You got to be respectful. Look, If you are going to these kind of events with me you have to dress appropriately, and you need to dress with a headscarf or whatever they wear there. It’s called being respectful” Robyn frowned at me “so you’re saying I am not that? That I just dress trash as fuck? I just show my body off, he met me. He saw what I was wearing, he saw my body” Robyn is being so dramatic “that is a public event Robyn, you are going to his house. Don’t be so stupid, Adam is here to show you some things to wear that look respectful, I know how it works. Trust me!” she come here shouting at me, I can do it back “I am sure you do, I bet you have had other bitches there that is why” Robyn said before she stormed out, well that went well.

Jogging down the steps, I kind of find it funny that Robyn reacted the way she did, she is so dramatic “Adam, glad you’re here” I said as I made my way down, walking over to him “Maurice, my friend” Adam shook my hand, Robyn is really still upset with me when she really needs to just get over it “thank you for coming, was Robyn rude to you at all? If she was let me know” Adam chuckled “she didn’t seem pleased, she said I don’t need dressing her at all” waving at Reign, she is sat on Terry’ lap just staring “well he said I dress trashy, I am not respectful” I laughed out “no” I pointed “I didn’t say that, I said you need to be respectful to the places you go too, I know his home, I go there. Even my sister has a headscarf on, Terry. Please make your daughter see sense, I never said she had bast taste in clothes, I just need her to wear things fit for the occasion. His wife, his family will be there. These are important people and I want them to see that my future wife is respectful to their culture, please understand this” she is stressing me out, Terry smiled at me “Robbie, he is not wrong. In the Arab culture they are strict, you need to listen” Robyn is a brat “he is wearing a Thawb” Adam said pointing at me “a what?” Robyn frowned “it’s an Arabic dress for men, I do say he looks handsome in it. I love it, you will love it” Robyn didn’t know what to say “so you’re wearing something different then?” nodding my head “I am, because I am respectful like that. He has Reign’ gift too, he got her a gold chain. This is the first time you will be stepping out to a meal with me, somewhere important, we do end up speaking on business too. I understand, don’t worry about it. When we go there, we will be greeted by him and his family. They feed us, we talk and have some things and then leave. They are so nice, but you may be with the ladies for a while but don’t worry. Robyn, it’s fine as some things they don’t want to mix, you will soon learn” Robyn sighed out “this seems like hard work” she is funny, she has barely done anything.

Staring at my MacBook screen and then dragging my eyes away from the screen to Reign “you doing business with me baby?” fixing her in my arm a little “shall we cancel meeting for next week? So I can be all yours?” she is not interested, I think she likes the colours on the screen “right, ok. I need to book this in, daddy has a lot of work to do” my work phone started to ring, I am literally replying back to emails right now. Answering my phone “Ally” balancing my phone on my shoulder to place my laptop on the side so I can lay Reign on me “I have the California police wanting to speak to you, they called me and I said I am just the assistant. They contacted the office in New York, they have directed it to me which I am now contacting you. They won’t speak to me, I am not sure what it is about” furrowing my eyebrows “black or teal?” Robyn asked “wait a minute” I said, letting my phone fall to the side of me “what? Me? Making me wait” Robyn said, she is being hard work today “not you and black” I huffed out, laying Reign down against my chest and then picking my phone back up “but why? What did I do? Is it me? I would like my lawyer around for that” this is never good “I have no idea, I did try and say he is busy but they said it is urgent” I guess I better answer “ok, put them through” I know for a fact I did nothing wrong, I know I haven’t “putting them through now” Ally said “can y’all just be quiet, please!” I spat “Mr Davenport on the phone for you Detective Natasha” raising an eyebrow, Robyn and Adam left the room “Thank you, hi Mr Davenport it is Detective Natasha. I am not sure if you are aware, there was a Burglary at your home in California which is registered under Robyn Willis” what crack is this “what!?” I said confused “there has been no such thing, I mean I literally get the alarm on my phone if that ever happens, I think you may have got the wrong person?” that is bullshit “Mr Davenport the security was tampered with, the home has been ran sacked, your cars have gone. I am sorry for such bad news and wish we could meet to discuss” I froze in shock, my home really been burgled “but I have the latest security, it can’t be. That is wrong, I paid so much money for it” I don’t understand “is there anybody you know that could have done this, we are currently getting as much evidence and feel it’s been done by someone you know. There has been no forced entry, the neighbours have said they noticed nothing wrong. They said you haven’t been home for a while now and mentioned that you would be in Dubai. It could be that someone knows you are not home, it can happen when they know the person is not home but the way it has been done it’s too clean” I am devastated “that is my family home, did they take everything?” that don’t mean anything to me really “it was maliciously vandalised, someone did take their time inside the home” I breathed out “even my daughter’ room?” I am so heartbroken, that is my daughter’ home “everything, I am sorry. When can you come back? We need to speak to you” I am in shock “can I call you back” I mumbled “my assistant, she will have your number. I just need time, please” I can’t process this “that is fine, she does have my number. Look forward to hearing from you” she disconnected the call.

Someone has really done that “look at my brother in his Reign suite” Shawn said as he walked in, I am still trying to process this “you good?” Staring at Shawn’ fist in my face “uh yeah” dapping him “you and Leon had a good time bonding?” sitting up on the couch “we did, Leon is funny but he likes to put everything on social media, a little too much” I need to find out, where is that bastard Malik “you know where Malik is? Anyone?” I asked as I got up from the couch “uhm no, why does anyone care?” Reign has fallen asleep “because my home has been burgled” walking up the steps “what!” Leon and Shawn both shouted in unison, I am so angry but upset because that is wrong. That could easily have been my daughter and Robyn in that home, I pay for the best. I know I do, I know what security is in that home, I know it all. I live in a good estate, it’s not cheap. Them nosey fucking neighbours would have said “don’t mind me” I said as I made my way into the room “Reign has fallen asleep” I want to keep calm but I am fucking angry, I am so angry right now “do I look the part” placing Reign in her crib “not right now, I will be back” if I had a gun I would shoot somebody “uh what, Maurice?” Robyn said, storming out of the room. I am not stupid, I know it was him. He would house sit for me, he also has my fucking dog so I would like to fucking know “Maurice, are you serious?” jogging down the steps “get Ally on the phone, tell her to give me Naomi’ room number now” walking over to the elevator “uh yeah, I will but are you being serious?” Shawn rushed over to me, pressing the button “serious as I can be, someone has robbed my home and took everything. No fucking dickhead can get in that, Malik. He knows the codes” walking into the elevator, pressing the ground floor “Maurice!?” Robyn spat, I want the door to close and they are luckily closing before she stops me.

This bitch is in my hotel, and I also know that little weasel will be here or he has flown back to do it himself “it’s my motherfucking hotel, I will use my powers to get anything” Shawn is telling me I am wrong but I am not, I am doing what I want “I think we need to relax” Shawn said behind me “relax? My child could have been in that home, he fucking did this and I know it” holding the handle as I swiped the keycard “room service” pushing the door open and storming into the room, hearing panicking from the bed. Turning the corner seeing Naomi fall over the bed sheets butt naked “no need to run, I have seen you naked before” Noami quickly yanked the covers over herself “get out now Malik” staring at Noami, I am not sure how to feel about this “I thought I said for you to not be in my hotel, you’re in my wife’ bed. I cannot wait to divorce you, Shawn you get that? When I take you to court for fucking my brother, you ain’t getting shit out of me. Not even the bare minimum like we spoke on, he is on crack, he don’t want you!” I would like to beat both of them “I knew you was in my hotel still, I know everything but something went on and you are the only one to know my codes for my home” Malik stared at me holding the towel close to himself “my home was robbed Malik, I don’t care. I will buy another home but my family could have been in that home” Malik smiled at me “you was here, your fine” Shawn grabbed me “no, we ain’t doing that. He will be dealt with” Shawn said “why!? Why!? Why would you do that!? After everything, I would give you anything, I didn’t ask for dad to love me more than you! You’re my little brother and I fucking loved you, why are you doing this to me! Is it because I am happy? You never did this when I was stuck with this bitch, did you? You liked me being childless and miserable because then I would be in a sunken hole like you are! You and this bitch! You can keep it, whatever shit money you get from this. Keep it! You are dead to me, and to think Robyn cared about you, shit like you! You made a big mistake Malik, watch when dad gives me the company. You fucking watch!” I pointed at him “out of my hotel, both of you!” Shawn let me go as I walked around him “bastard!” punching the wall as I made my way out of the room.

I don’t really have the time but I needed to see my dad “that girl is really done for” my dad is watching the video “mhmmm yeah” I said “Maurice, I will give you all of my blessings to do anything you would like to do once I give you the company” my mom just put her head down “he’s done, he will get nothing from me and if you do then that is on you” my dad laughed “I would rather give it to Robyn’ mother” I frowned at my dad “what?” that was random “I am just saying, I wouldn’t give him anything. That boy is a disappointment to me, he will never come to Texas again because he knows I want nothing to do with him. Your mother, well she will never stop because that is her son but don’t worry about it. The family will see it as more shares for them but son, you do what you need to do. And this, you give to Wade ok, the divorce court will love this. Just don’t attack them at all, he will want that from you” nodding my head in agreement “I just got angry because what if Robyn and Reign was home, if anything ever happens to them then I wouldn’t want to be here, just got me angry anyways. I need to go, I have to meet the prince” Robyn will be angry with me, I know she will be.

The elevator pinged as the doors opened “I told you he would be back” Leon said “Maurice, what the hell!?” Robyn marched over to me “I am calm now, it’s ok now” stepping off the elevator “you left your phone here! And you ran off, you saw me come towards that elevator but you purposely went!” I did do that “I am sorry” I mumbled “Leon telling me our home has been robbed? I tried the cameras and I can’t access them” I sighed out “so the police called my phone, said that they have taken everything from the home. But you and I both know we had the best security, I was angry so I went to see Malik, he admitted to doing it which I knew. I am so sorry, that is your home and that has happened” rubbing my face “no don’t be, honestly don’t. We are safe and that is what matters to me, I think it’s time we cut off Malik forever, for our own safety but do not ever be sorry. Lot of the things I took with me, I mean yes the cars and whatever but we got each other still” Robyn is right “you need to sell the home, it was so perfect. It was so close to your job too, I am fucking annoyed Robyn, it was perfect for you” Robyn wrapped her arms around me “just sell it, I can drive an extra hour for it, I don’t mind. I guess we didn’t expect this from your own brother” I chuckled “you need to sell it, it’s your home stupid. You need to do it, I can’t do it” Robyn let an oh “then where do we stay for now?” I never complimented on how she looks “you look beautiful by the way and I guess your dad is going to have to put up with me” I laughed “I am joking, I will be working and all that still. I will be around” Robyn hit my chest “shut up” Adam eyed me up and down “let’s go” he said “do you dress him? Does that mean you see his dick?” Robyn asked “why not? He has a big dick” Adam laughed saying “seriously?” Robyn is being dead ass “I am joking, I have never seen his dick. Just down to his boxers, don’t worry I don’t want him” Adam waved her off.

I must say I always look good in one of these, every time I wear one “I am glad you got the thicker material, you remember that time when I wore black boxers. Never again, thank you Adam” walking out of the bedroom “it’s my pleasure, your other half is stressful. She didn’t like this and that, I goes your man said what he said” walking down the steps smiling “good, you need to be strict with her sometimes “just call me Sheikh Davenport, don’t all compliment me at once” I know I look good “my, my, my. Well hello Sheikh” Leon said “do you always go all out for this man?” Leon asked “I respect his ways, he respect mines. What he says goes, he has power and I need him on my side. He could have easily turned around and say the women at the event needed to cover their heads, but he didn’t. We respect each other” Leon let out an oh “are you naked under that?” Robyn asked “I could be, if you like? But I have my boxers on, it’s the most comfortable thing to wear here with this heat. Do I look good?” I want a compliment from Robyn “you look very handsome Maurice, I am impressed. So what is that? Scarf thing?” Robyn pointed “I could either wear it on my head, it is protect you from the sun. But I chose to put it around my neck” Robyn grinned “you’re actually so amazing Maurice, like your dad has raised you amazingly well, I get why people in power like you. Because I really am enjoying, this” she pointed at me, look at Robyn complimenting me more then I asked for.

Pressing a kiss to Reign’ cheek “miss you already princess, we will be back” I don’t think she cares, she is relaxing with Leon “do you think I would make a pretty Muslim?” Robyn said behind me, turning to Robyn. I cooed out seeing Robyn in her hijab “you would be” I paused “probably one of the prince’ wives, I can imagine that happening. Shall we go then?” I am dead ass with that statement, I know she would have been “nice to hear that you class me so high, I appreciate it. And you would be my butler that I fuck on the low” pressing a kiss to Robyn’ forehead “and I appreciate that you want my dick on the low too” she is so damn pretty “I’m so happy for you both, you make me so happy inside. To see this” Terry gushed “not when she is crying about random shit, it ain’t cute. Anyways, we do need to go” fixing the scarf around my neck as I made my way to the elevator “sir” the butler said and the elevator opened “I pressed it already” look at that, I don’t need to wait “thank you” stepping onto the elevator and turning to Robyn “I kind of like this you know” pressing ground floor “you want to move here?” resting against the elevator wall “if that means we both get to spend all of the time we can, you get busy once you get to America” rubbing the side of my face “that will change, soon” I have my plans.

Stepping off of the elevator and the first thing I see is both Naomi and Malik, they are being escorted out now “boss” Lenny said “hey, just give me a moment. Robyn, wait here” making my way to the receptionist, Naomi looked behind and saw me “Malik” she touched his back, she really doing this “sir” the lady said “I want you to send out correspondence out to every hotel, these two ain’t allowed in. And please make sure they leave this place, country even” my dad came from the back “Maurice, are you going now?” he walked from around the desk “I am, I will let you know how it goes, what are you doing behind there?” I asked “making sure those leave my son’ hotel, have fun then. Oh there is Robyn, hi!” my dad waved to her “it’s weird when you’re nice, don’t work too much old man” patting his shoulder “we have to obey your rules Maurice, you are the owner and also. Malik and I got into it, he is quiet for that reason. I will resolve such issues, that is my child. He is not your problem, anyways you go now” I was wondering why he was so quiet, I guess my dad got him now. I am still upset he did me like that, it’s not about the things it’s about the people that live there, that is what upset me the most, I can buy everything again. Smiling at Robyn “your dad is adorable when he’s smiling” I snorted laughing “come Malikati” holding Robyn’ hand “what?” she spat “it means my queen in Arabic” Robyn huffed out “I can’t keep up Maurice, you know too many languages” I know she is fed up of me knowing all of this.

Robyn switched seats to sit across from me “you good over there?” I said as I stared at my emails, Ally emailed me if everything is ok with the police situation “look at me” Robyn said, looking up from my phone “what?” I chuckled seeing the phone in my face “you being a creep huh” Robyn shrugged “I find you extremely sexy right now, the shades on too. Mhmmm so mysterious” I smirked at Robyn “sorry, I love my daughter but this is my new wallpaper” Robyn sat next to me “look at that, I mean you look so good. How fucking sexy are you, I am not surprised that women come to you and want you” Robyn is really lusting over me “that word that Leon called you, Shay, something?” she is so cute “sheikh?” I asked “yeah, what does that mean?” she is so innocent, it draws me in every time “it means Arab leader, head of family. Someone that leads the people” Robyn let out an oh “how do you spell it?” I laughed “Google is free babe, you can just Google it?” Robyn scoffed “if I can’t say, then what makes you think I can spell it out in Google, tell me?” licking my lips trying to not laugh too much “S, h, e, i, k, h. Got it?” Robyn nodded her head “I put this” she turned her phone to me “my Sheikh” I read out and then cooed out “that is so cute, I love it. Like I love you. Actually, I have access to my own official Instagram now, my sister usually adds pictures but I wanted to see your page so she gave me the log in” I said while tapping the icon “you been messages bitches on there? I know you must be getting some nudes on there” I mean she is not wrong but I won’t admit that “who cares, I am with you. But let’s take a picture, only like official picture go on this, I mean like photographer type thing but I am proud of you, this like your first event with me, like just me and you” holding the phone out “let me take it, you don’t know angles but for real? I feel kind of special. What about Noami, you must have?” shaking my head “not like selfie type unless she took one but I am doing this with you. I don’t deal with social media, not my thing but I am trying” Robyn held the phone up to take the picture, shuffling closer to Robyn and placing my arm around her. She moved closer to me, resting her free hand on my knee “wow, we look like bad bitches” Robyn passed me my phone, moving my arm “I think I am the better one though” I smiled at the picture “I like this, I think I will write meetings with the Arab prince, no actually I will put. The Arab prince requested I bring my wife to this. Which I am not lying, he did say this” tapping post “I feel honoured, like I never thought in my wildest dreams I would be doing this. You are teaching me new things, and I love learning. I love learning your ways, the more I see of you working the more I am amazed by you. I can’t stress enough how your dad raised you well, now I get to see you flourish” Robyn is being too sweet “with you by my side, you bring that out of me. My love for you” she changed me for the better.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Eel River Inn (4/?)

In the morning, Bucky wakes to the sound of an Underwood typewriter clacking away and the smell of coffee. If it weren’t for the soft bed, he might have thought he fell asleep in the company Clerk’s tent again. But there weren’t gunshots there was only muffled swearing as you banged away. He smiled a little, Ah, the artistic process, he thought. So majestic. You groaned and he heard a soft thud that sounded distinctly like a forehead on a desk. It’s going well, he snorted.

He followed the sound down the hall, running his fingers through his hair and yawning, “Doll?” he said, nudging the door open, “You okay?” Your answering groan makes him chuckle as he leans against the door frame. You’re holding a cup of coffee and looking like you’re about to throw the typewriter out the window. The early sun is shining on your hair like a halo and you’re wearing a t-shirt and panties, a pencil behind your ear and a riotous mane of hair fall past your shoulders. His own grumpy and rebellious angel. You turn and look at him, your lips curling in a soft smile, “Did I wake you?” He crosses the floor to you, looking around your office, “I could have gone back to sleep. Clicking Keys and some swearing won’t keep me awake, I slept through worse in the army.”

You nod and pull him down for a good morning kiss, you taste like coffee and he sighs, “You taste like heaven,” he says huskily, “is there any more coffee?” You nod, “In the kitchen next to the fridge.” Bucky kisses you one last time and brushes hair out of your eyes. You look so beautiful all sleep rumpled and rosy-cheeked. He leaves you to your work and heads downstairs. Your house is cozy. He didn’t spend too long sightseeing last night but now as he sips his coffee, he’s curious. He looks at the framed photos. You with various teams. One where you have a lab coat. One where you’re lighting a cigarette with a torch with grease on your face. You look too young to even be smoking in this century but it suits you somehow. You look half feral. He wonders what you studied. He wonders why pictures seem to be missing, there’s a gap noticeable only by the length of your hair. He wants to know why you’re a writer that doesn’t seem to have spent much time writing before recently. He hears your feet on the stairs and he tried to look nonchalant but you’re smiling and it’s knowing. It makes him blush. 

“You’ll never in a million years guess what I studied in college,” you tease. You smile at him over a fresh cup of coffee and he cocks his head, looking from you to the pictures, “Something with grease,” he guessed? You smile, “Next-gen mechanical engineering.” you tell him. Bucky quirks an eyebrow, “No shit?” You laugh, “Nope,” you say, “Been working on a proper solar sailor out in the barn for the last 5 years... it helps break up the writer’s block.” The look on his face, trying to play it cool but internally screaming makes you giggle. “Gimme a minute to put on pants... and some shoes. I’ll show you.” Bucky doesn’t know what a solar sailor is. He doesn’t really care. But he wants to see it. He wants to put together your puzzle. 

He follows you upstairs, watching as you pull on clothes. Torn jeans and a black t-shirt. Sturdy work boots. He pulls on his own clothes and pulls you into a slow kiss, “I always liked smart girls,” he says smiling. You grin, “You ain’t seen nothing yet, handsome.” You take his hand and lead him to the barn. It’s unassuming. Bucky had thought it was just a storage shed. A place where you kept a lawn mower and maybe some old junk. He didn’t expect what he saw when you rolled the doors open.

It was a fully functional workshop. Nearly on par with Stark’s. You pull levers and counterweights release, lowering the skeleton of your Solar sailor to the work table. It looks like a surfboard with a sail on it. The fabric of the sail glitters with tiny golden sequin looking things and he looks at you in askance. “I really loved the movie treasure planet as a kid,” you say shrugging. Bucky smiles a little, he doesn’t know what that is either but you’re looking at your creation with pride. “What does it do?” he asks. You smile up at him with a look that just screams “trouble”. “It flies,” you say, “Or at least it will. Maybe another 300 odd hours of fabrication.” 

Bucky tilts your chin up and kisses you, “So, this all begs the question... How do you go from Next Gen Mechanics to Young Adult Author.” He’s smiling until he notices a flicker of uncertainty in your face. The woman who spills neuroses and insecurities on paper as characters in a story is hesitating to tell him. He waits patiently. God knows there are things in his past he doesn’t want to tell you. 

“That is a very long story,” you say softly. “I got time, baby,” he says, kissing your forehead. You nod, turning away from him, going to your work table. The soldier pulls up a stool and folds his arms, watching your hands. They’re aimless, seeking distraction. But he waits until you find your voice. “I always loved science,” you say. “I was fascinated by it. By the idea that we put a man on the moon with less technology than I had in my gameboy. That I could make those things if I had the plans... I started with shop classes and shit. Moved on to robotics. Studied everything I could get my hands on.” Bucky smiled a little. He could see that. A cute little girl in a baseball cap covered in grease under a car, gleefully tearing it apart to see how it worked. 

“I skipped a couple grades, and my high school trig teacher slipped me a flyer one day. Something for a bot battle. So I put a crew together, me and a couple dumb asses from my shop class you know? I just needed them to lift shit really. Lift shit and look scary. I was all of 5ft tall and about 100 pounds with a backpack on... And 15. Having some muscle on my team didn’t seem like a bad idea.” That made Bucky chuckle. You were still small but there was about a decade of lean lithe muscle packed onto your frame. He’d felt it when he’d carried you to bed. “So we went. And we won... And we kept winning. Scored me a full ride to MIT. At least in theory.” You reflexively grind your teeth, “My funding got pulled about halfway through but I stayed the course. I pulled out loans. A lot of loans.”

“So when the government think tank offered me a job, I said fuck yeah.” you snort. “First thing they did was pay off my loans. All 150,000 worth. Like that. I should have known better.” You sigh and glance at Bucky, “I was barely 21. They offered me money, good money. More money than I was gonna make anywhere else. More money than I knew what to do with after growing up on welfare and free school lunches.” Bucky wants to wrap his arms around you but he doesn’t. He stays still and waits. The story is about to take a turn, he can feel it. It hurts already and he doesn’t want to know. 

“They wanted results. Weapons. Defense tech. Anything they could get. Anything we could make. It was merciless. Endless. And I couldn’t take it. What they didn’t know... What I didn’t know. Was that the mood shifts I’d been self-medicating with Adderall and nicotine gum weren’t just a personality quirk. It was an unchecked bipolar disorder with a dash of ADHD and generalized anxiety thrown in for fun. When I dropped my basket I didn’t just drop it... I lit that shit on fire and laughed.” You chuckle darkly, “I’d been awake so long I hallucinated a giant purple weasel named Terry... That fucker still owes me $50 for surviving jumping off the catwalk railing.” Bucky tenses, an old instinct to kill rising. They’d trapped you and drove you to insanity. The fucking bastards. 

“Turns out, unbreakable contracts break pretty easy when you lose your mind,” you say shrugging, “And I’m not the only one... I spent two years getting put back together. Some of my team is still locked up.” You swallow hard and take a deep breath. “The books came later. Shit I hallucinated. Shit I wanted to read. Anything to keep my mind occupied when I couldn’t sleep. An old teacher of mine sent some of the stuff I’d written to a publisher after I talked to her about it and here we are.” You smile a little and look up at him uncertain and shy. Scared. “If you want to run, I wouldn’t blame you. My life is a mess.”

Bucky stands slowly and holds his arms out, “Sorry, Doll,” he says, “If you think a mental break down is gonna send me running you got another thing coming.” When you close the distance between you he hugs you to him and kisses the side of his head, “I spent the better part of 70 years a brainwashed assassin,” he murmurs, “There’s nothing hiding in your mind that could possibly scare me more than the things I don’t quite remember.”

[itsthejuggernautbitch]

You Look Like Trouble (Morning Glory Wine - Cable/OC

Here’s chapter six! 

It’s been a while, guys! I’m not quite done with classes for the semester, but I decided to clean up this next chapter (it was already written, it just needed some heavy work) and post it! The next chapter certainly won’t take as long to get out.

(And as always, not to be that person but if you’ve got the time and the inclination, kudos or a comment would be greatly appreciated.)

Taglist: @this-that-and-every-thing-else  @ptite-shit  @lesbianyondu @chromecutie  @gallifreyangrandtorino  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @akihecko @bigstarlightkingdom 

Vivian hadn’t been to Sister Margaret’s to pull her shift in three days. Her absence had all the usual miscreants worried (Weasel could stitch people up too but he was known for taking his time about it). She never missed work if she could help it. Like, she came in to pull her shift with a broken arm once.

Wade didn’t have an explanation for why Vivian was avoiding her favorite place in the world, but he had a nasty feeling that it was Cable’s fault. Weasel told him something happened, but Weasel didn’t tell him what - probably because Weasel didn’t know. And Cable wasn't talking, even though, according to Weasel, Vivian's absence was definitely his fault. Wade was gonna kill him.

“Viv! Open the door!”

Wade had been knocking on Vivian’s front door for ten minutes, but she hadn't answered the door. He was dressed in his usual drug dealer-esque get-up, making a ruckus in the hallway of her not-fancy-but-still-too-classy-for-him-to-be-dressed-like-that apartment building, pounding on Viv’s door in the hope that she’d open up. Some of the neighbors were definitely peeking out of their peepholes, but Wade wasn’t leaving until she answered the door.

He didn’t even know what he’d find when he saw her. He’d never seen Vivian legitimately upset before. Angry? Sure. Annoyed? That was an everyday thing. But upset? He was almost a little apprehensive to find out what that was like. She wasn't answering calls, answering texts, answering the door. The fragile wooden apartment door. The door that Wade was about a half-second from kicking open to make sure she was alive and functioning, if breaking down the door wasn’t such a safety hazard for her. She’d probably tell him to fuck off (communication was not her forte sometimes), but that was better than just leaving him out in the cold.

Frankly, this was getting a little embarrassing. The neighbors had probably called the cops by now.

“Vivian! I know you’re in there, Dr. House,” Wade called, knocking on the door again. “Your car is here and you don’t use Uber.”

Vivian heard Wade call out, she just didn’t want to talk. She’d worked at the clinic the past few days but hadn’t gone to Sister Margaret’s. The last thing she needed right now what the acrid stench of beer and vomit in her nostrils, a bleeding contract killer screaming in her ear, and the sight of Cable sitting at his usual barstool. She flushed just thinking about it - pained and embarrassed. A little sad.

"Stop beating down my door!"

"Then open up!"

Wade kept right on knocking. Friends showed up even when it was messy and inconvenient, so he would keep on knocking until she started talking. Even if she didn't want to talk. Even if all she did was glare at him or cry or fall asleep on the couch, he'd sit there until she got it all out.

After what seemed like ages, finally, Wade heard footsteps leading up to the door. He shifted from foot to foot, wringing his hands.

Vivian cracked open the door. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

And promptly slammed the door shut again.

“Can you at least explain to me what’s going on?” Wade called, knocking on the door again.

Vivian stalked back to her front door, and this time, she threw the door wide open. She huffed, leaning against the wall in her front hallway. She knew Wade wouldn't leave until she talked. She was too fucking tired for this.

“There are about three people in this entire world that I trust and you’re one of them,” Vivian snapped. She leaned against the door frame, arms folded. “I would have expected you to tell me that the guy you’ve been encouraging me to go for, who I kind of liked, who might have actually liked me back, was married, because I have a sneaking suspicion that you knew and didn’t tell me.”

Wade's hood fell back away from his face. The pitts and divots in his skin seemed deeper in the artificial hall light, almost like bruises.

“Wait, whoa whoa,” Wade said, stepping back. “Hold it. What happened?”

“Your mercenary buddy got his arm split open again, so I stitched him up,” she started, still leaning against the door frame. She made no motion to let him in. “We were talking, and then he kissed me. And about ten seconds later, he pulls away and tells me he’s married. So I stormed out, and here we are.”

Wade's mouth gaped open. “Did he explain anything?”

“Why would anything need to be explained? Marital status is a pretty straightforward thing,” Vivian stated, cocking her head to the side. “And this isn’t about him right now. This is about why you were encouraging this without even warning me.”

Well, Wade had been hoping Cable would at least explain the inner workings of his origin before he started locking lips with anyone, but Grumpypants apparently was a little rusty on the dating front.

“Because he’s not married in this timeline, Vivian. He’s from the future and he can’t go home. He’s lonely and grumpy, just like you.”

She knew Wade was joking because that's the only way he knew how to deal with emotion, but still - ouch.

“Is now really the time to call me grumpy?” Vivian asked. And then she paused when she realized what Wade actually said. “Also - what the fuck? He’s from the future? He can’t go home? His wife is there?”

This would have been so much easier if Macho Man had the emotional range to function properly.

Wade sighed. “Can I come in?”

Vivian looked a little like she was praying for guidance from someone Wade couldn't see. “Against my better judgment, yes.”

She opened the door to let him in, padding backwards to her den. She directed him over to the couch in her living room and sat down next to him.

“So he kissed you and then told you he was married?”

“That's the gist of it.”

Wade shook his head. “I thought he’d come to terms with that.”

“Well, clearly not,” Vivian said, propping her feet up on the table. She grabbed the pillow next to her and tucked it up under her chin, squeezing it like a security blanket. “I refuse to chase after someone whose ex-wife might not even be a fetus yet.”

Wade couldn't explain why Cable would have brought that up. Cable was still something of a mystery, though Wade had known him for well over a year now.

“Listen, I was trying to do something good for the both of you,” Wade said, about as honest as he'd ever been. “You deserve someone who’s going to take care of you and treat you the way you should be treated. He’s a decent guy and he deserves someone he can relate to. He might be your regular ol’ Jean Claude Van Damme type, but I know you and if anyone could make you happy, Cable’s the guy.”

Vivian sighed. “You’re still pushing this? Do you know something that I don’t? Like, are we gonna make the superbaby that saves humanity or something? Because my baby-growing parts don’t work anymore, so that’s not a thing.”

“Look, I just know that you really liked him, and I haven’t seen you even look twice at a guy since I met you. I mean, I used to be hot and you didn’t even look at me,” Wade said, pausing. “I just want you to be happy, McSteamy. And get some good dick.”

“I’m not promising that I’ll talk to him. Not even for you.”

“That’s fair,” Wade shrugged. “I’d have started shooting by now.”

Wade leaned against her side, snuggling up to her. He had a tendency to do that anytime he got on her nerves - it was more or less his way of asking for forgiveness. She always let him, because Wade is just Wade and he usually doesn’t mean any harm.

They were silent for a while. The TV buzzed quietly in the background, though neither one of them were paying it much attention.

Vivian rested her head against his. “You were hot back then.”

He gasped. “I knew you looked!”

“Only once.”

The bright stadium lights were blinding and the crowd was deafening, but Vivian felt like she was in a bubble. She’d been trying to compartmentalize everything that had happened over the course of the week, but she couldn’t seem to get away from it completely, not even to focus on Benji and Shelly. She saw Wade behind her eyes every time she blinked, telling her to talk about her feelings (she wasn’t great at that), then Colossus, then Cable (though she’d been trying to grind that out of her mind the entire week.

“You okay, mom?”

Vivian blinked as Shelly prodded her shoulder. “What, honey?”

“You keep spacing out, ma,” Benji interjected, nudging Vivian’s other shoulder.

Jack couldn’t come to Benji’s soccer game, so Vivian was taking his spot (enthusiastically and happily). She hadn’t been to one of Benji’s soccer games since he was in early grade school, and now she was taking advantage of the climate - i.e. screaming and talking shit with the rest of the over-enthusiastic parents. Though, she’d been spacing out for the last half-hour of the game. Tired, mostly likely. Emotionally exhausted. She’d been trying to fight it off so that she could actually enjoy time spent with her kids.

Shelly had resorted to prodding her and forcing popcorn down her throat to keep her awake. Benji had even noticed from his spot on the bench and walked up the bleachers to poke her awake.

“You need to take it easy with the clinic hours, mom,” Shelly said, raking her fingers through chunks of sweaty blonde hair. It was late in the day, but it was hot and sticky in the middle of a stadium filled with screaming people. “You’re falling asleep at an event.”

“It’s not the clinic hours, babe,” Vivian replied, handing Shelly a hair tie. Shelly never remembered them, but Vivian always had a fistful of hair ties. “I’ve just had a long week.”

The longest week on record, it seemed. Wade’s unprompted visit and constant texts as well as the long clinic hours and Weasel’s pleading for her to come back to Sister Margaret’s had left Vivian so drained. She’d tried to push the mess that Cable made into the back of her mind for the sake of her own mental health. And Colossus - she had too much to think about to even go there. The soccer game had been last minute as well; about thirty seconds after Wade left, she got a call from Lucy - the secretary at Shelly and Benji’s school - letting her know that Jack wouldn’t be able to show up to Benji’s soccer game.

“Well, the other moms are taking everyone for pizza afterwards,” Benji said, standing up. The coach was calling for him to get his ass back down to the field. “So wake up, we’ve got to go have fun!”

“I’m awake!” Vivian said, waving her son off. “Don’t worry about me! Go kick some ass!”

“Language, mom!”

There it was again - Benji viciously and vividly reminding her of Colossus. Speaking of mutants - she’d been monitoring Benji all night to make sure that he wasn’t showing signs of a mutation. Between the two of her kids, he was the one who was more likely to have one. Not to say that she hadn’t been monitoring Shelly as well - she definitely had been. She hadn’t seen anything yet, but that wasn’t to say that something couldn’t crop up.

Vivian had been nervous ever since her conversation with Colossus. The idea that either of her kids could be hiding a mutation scared the shit out of her. What would Jack do if he found out before she did? She didn’t want to think about it - she’d rather take preemptive measures.

And she hadn’t thought about returning to Xavier’s Mansion since her visit earlier in the week. She needed time before she was ready to give Colossus an answer. She already knew what her answer would be, she just didn’t want to think about it yet.

Shelly poked her again. “Mom, come on. Stand up and yell again or something. You look like you’re sleeping with your eyes open.”

Vivian stood up with Shelly to watch the rest of the game. That’s when she noticed something: Benji was good. Which, Benji had always been good. But he was just a little too good for a ninth grader. And he was fast. Benji wasn’t so fast that he seemed strange necessarily, just a little out of place.

Vivian leaned down next to Shelley’s ear. “How long has your brother been that good?”

Shelly looked a little shifty. “Uh, he’s always been that good?”

“There’s good, and then there’s that good.”

“I mean, he’s just fast, mom....”

There's fast, and then there's tripping two kids and stealing the soccer ball from them before the coaches could even figure out what happened.

“Shelly, I’m going to ask you something, and you need to be honest. Does Benji have a mutation?”

“Yes.”

“Does your dad know?”

Shelly shook her head. “No, he doesn’t usually watch the games. He flirts with the teachers.”

“Well, that’s a whole other problem right there. Do you have a mutation?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll talk about this after the game, but you have got to keep it hidden from your dad until I can figure out what to do.”

“Okay.”

Wade was certain Cable was going to be tougher to deal with than Vivian. Both he and Vivian were stubborn, but Vivian would at least listen for more than thirty seconds without shooting at him or aiming a knife between his eyes. This time, Wade had to be prepared for a confrontation.

When Wade finally found his way back to the X-Mansion after spending most of the day lounging on Vivian’s couch, he was ready to knock some sense into Cable - in his own way, of course. Which basically included a small pep talk and making Cable feel like an idiot. Wade felt like this would accomplish his goals with more efficiency than an older-brother type, I’m gonna fuck you up threat. Plus, shaming Cable and making him feel guilty for fucking up would be infinitely more satisfying.

Wade's method was simple: full-on call-out post. Facebook Mom style.

Wade burst into Cable’s room, ignoring the fact that Cable was dressed only in a towel, and glared at him like he was ready to kill him. “What did you do?”

This wasn’t phrased as a question so much as an accusatory finger-poke.

Cable gaped at him for a half-second before yelling at Wade to close the damn door. Wade obliged, albeit more slowly than he would have if the hall had been empty (people were peeking in to watch the anticipated fight).

Once the door was closed, Cable sat down on the edge of his bed, making sure that all his bits and pieces were covered up by the towel. “Something stupid.”

Wade pulled out the chair at Cable’s workbench. Several intimidating-looking guns were positioned barrel-first in his direction, and he was immediately thankful that he could regenerate. “Uh, yeah? You told her you were married? After you kissed her?”

“Is this any of your business?”

“I’m the one who introduced you to her! Sort of! In a very business-like fashion after you’d been stabbed,” Wade said, picking up one of the guns. Cable eyed him warily, muscles tense. “So, yeah, it’s definitely my business! You’re not married in this timeline. You’re not going back to the future, Marty McFly.”

Cable glanced over at the teddy bear sitting on the top shelf of his workbench. “Don’t you think I’m reminded of that every single day?”

“It’s been well over a year already,” Wade reminded him, almost gently. “I know losing your family isn’t something you just get over. Hell, I took a cat-nap on twelve barrels of gasoline. More than once. But you’ve made a lot of headway.”

Cable shook his head. “Talking to you is fucking impossible.”

Wade figured that he needed to try a different approach. He switched from Facebook mom to father of three teenage boys approach. “Look, do ya like her?”

“No fucking shit,” Cable replied. His face grew soft, and he suddenly seemed to Wade every bit of his age. “Of course I do.”

“Then get off your ass and go fix it! Explain to her what’s going on.”

“I doubt she’ll listen,” Cable replied, reaching out to pick up the teddy bear. He held it in his hands, turning it over. The bear’s golden eye flashed in the light from the room’s only lamp, not unlike the eye of the man holding it. “She doesn’t exactly seem like the type to give second chances.”

“You’d be surprised what she’ll do for people she cares about,” Wade said, pointing. “Like you, asshat.”

“Did she say that?”

Yeah, Cable definitely seemed older now. Tired. Maybe even a little melancholy.

“She didn’t have to.”

Cable set the bear back down on his workbench and tugged the slipping edge of his towel back into place. Wade couldn’t imagine a more awkward moment than being berated in a towel, but he supposed it added to the air of shame on you that he was trying to achieve.

“I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Well, neither do I! Go talk to her and figure it out!”

[thekrazykeke]

I’m of the belief that if a nigga cheats, either cheat too and dump the dude, or get that nigga jumped on and dump that dude. 

However, technically, very technically, Erik fuckboy Stevens did not ever put a label on what he was tryna do with the reader besides fucking, and ol’ girl also knew he was potential drama but fucked wit him anyway. SO. Is it in anyway surprising what inevitably happened? That depends on y’all perspective. 

Continued from here.

“The fuck happened to your face?” Is the first thing out of Darius’ mouth when you opened the front door. 

Before you could say a word, your niece cut in. “Daddy, ain’t it obvious? Aunt Y/N got into a fight and lost.” Nakida commented, voice and posture radiating sass and teenage rebellion. 

“I did not lose!”

“That’s not what Aunt Nadia sayin’ on Facebook.”

You glanced back at said woman who looked like a deer in headlights. Giving her a ‘bitch, this ain’t over’ look, you return to your family. “That’s not what happened at all.”

“I hope you beat her up. Uncle Davion and Isiah always hyping your fights--”

Darius had enough, snatching her phone. “Okay, little girl. Go sit your bad ass down.” Kia flounced over to where an empty spot on the couch was, dropping heavily onto the furniture, nearly throwing Nadia to the ground in the process. Nadia cut her a look but Nakida didn’t pay her any attention. “I need you to watch her for today. Just a couple hours while I’m at work.”

“And why can’t her momma?” You’re suspicious.

“Look, it’s complicated. Just...just please do this for yo big bruh, yea?”

Shaking your head, you sigh. “For you, a’ight.” You hmm’ed when he gave you a half hug and kissed the side of your forehead. “Okay, okay! I get it, love you too. Now let go.” 

Darius laughed before blowing a kiss at his daughter. “Love you, baby. Be good for your aunt, peanut, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, Dad. Love you too. Bye.” As soon as he left, she looked at you. “I’m hungry. Can we have Chinese for dinner?”

“No, but you can go to the kitchen and fix yourself a bologna sandwich.” She smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Or you can wait til your dad gets here. You ain’t gotta eat our food, boo boo.” 

“That’s right. Check yaself, little girl.” Nadia added. 

“Okay, Miss Dippin’, you ain’t in it either.” You pointed at her. 

“What, girl, I gotcha back!”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, whatever.” Taking a seat, you pull out your cellphone just as Nakida lumbered towards the kitchen. 

‘Nigga, bye.’ Rolling your eyes, you turn your phone on vibrate and place it on the dresser to avoid temptation. The urge to call him up and cuss his ass out nearly overpowering but you wasn’t tryna set a bad image for your niece. 

It was already terrible enough that she’d seen your face all kinds of jacked up. And with the rest of the fam probably hyping her up, she could get the idea that fighting in school was cute. 

“Make me a sandwich too! Add some of that spicy cheese on there.” You call to the teen in the kitchen. “You hook it up and I’ll order the Chinese.”

Nadia looked at you like you’re crazy. Getting that stuff delivered in this neighborhood, to this apartment, is horrendously expensive but you didn’t care at the moment.

“You want mayo or mustard?! How bout some pickles and these yellow jalapenos?”

“Surprise me! Hook it up, girl, hook it up.” 

Thus that’s how it went. 

Nakida, Nadia and you had an impromptu girls’ day. Blasting Beyonce, dancing on the couch, pretending to hit them high notes (in truth, y’all sounded like cats being murdered but whatever) and manicures, facials, etc. Nadia managed to weasel out the whole truth of why Nakida beat the hell out of those two girls, and although you weren’t too surprised that they’d been picking on her for awhile, you’d wished that she’d said something sooner. 

‘But snitches look weak.’ You wish you had the words to help, but you didn’t. So, instead you gave her an extra spring roll from your box. 

Darius had to stay at work longer than expected but you didn’t mind keeping Nakida company. The two of you stayed up watching Inuyasha together, complaining about how stupid Kagome was and that Kikyo was a bitch. It’s close to ten at night when your brother finally arrives and Nakida is conked out. He gathers her up in his arms, saying thanks and you reply any time, that she’s always welcome, and she is. 

You’re not an expert at life, but you knew what it’s like to be lost, without guidance, if you could be a safe harbor for her until she learned how to swim... Well, you’d do it happily. 

As you’re cleaning up the mess, you’re yawning off and on, about to fall asleep while standing up, then there’s a knock at the door. Rolling your eyes heavenward, asking for strength, you walk over to the front door and look out the peephole. 

It’s Erik.

“Go away.” You said without opening the door, your words undoubtedly muffled, but he can hear you fine. 

“Can we please talk about this? You been ignoring my texts and calls all day.”

You scritched at your hair lightly. “Ain’t nothing you need to explain, Erik. You ain’t my nigga, I’m not your girl. You allowed to sleep with whoever you please. I don’t care.” 

“I didn’t sleep with her though. Not with anyone...look.” There’s a thump and he’s probably leaning against the door. “Please, let me come in. I just want to see your face.” 

‘Lord Jesus, what would you do?’ There’s no answer and you hadn’t really expected one. After an internal struggle, you unlatched the door and unbolted the locks, twisting the knob, you pull it open. “I’ve had a long day and I wanna sleep. So, five minutes. Go.”

He ran inside but was smart enough not to reach out and touch you. “Damn, Y/N, yo face...”

“Four minutes and fifty seven seconds, nigga.”

“I’m...” He took a deep breath, a complicated expression on his face. “Sorry about earlier. About Samara and everything that happened after. It looked suspect as fuck but I wasn’t tryna get her out of there because I was sleeping with the girl. I just didn’t want any drama.”

You pursed your lips. “Mm.” 

“I ain’t been fucking with nobody but you.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Look, can you cut the tough girl act for five seconds. I’m tryna be real wit yo ass--” You cut him a look that could cut steel and he glared back at you before he sighed, shoulders slumping. “...I know you ain’t tryna fuck with me like that, but I like you.”

Your heart turned over in your chest but you tried to keep a calm facade. “Yea, whatever.”

“I’m serious. You mean as hell, and you prolly only dealt with me because I buy video games for us to have an excuse to chill together, but I like you. Even though your taste in anime characters is lousy.” 

“Itachi is a real nigga and Sasuke is a emo ass bitch that deserved to get merked!! I’m not changing my mind!” He smiled then, dimples showing and you looked away from him, arms crossed in front of yourself. “You get on my nerves.” 

Sensing that the danger had passed, he finally approached, wrapping his arms around you. “I like you.” 

“Okay...” You turn your face from him, unwilling to give in just yet.

“I like you.” He murmured softly, the words warm against your ear. “I like you, baby.” Erik crooned, hands wandering down your shirt, about to drift under the material.

You stopped him. “Uh-uh. That’s how this whole mess started. You starting from ground zero, nigga.” 

He kissed his teeth but obligingly removed his hand. “Forreal?”

“Dates and all that other shit. I expect to be wined and dined, so don’t try me with no Burger King or Mickie D’s.” As you talked, you were nudging him out of your space.

“You was messin’ with some lame ass broke niggas then.”

Snorting, you rolled your eyes with a shrug. “I guess I upgraded.” 

“No guessing, you did.” 

“Always got something smart to say don’tchu?” You’re exasperated. “Let me have the last w--” He tilted your chin up and kissed you. Once, twice, and the third time, he sucked on your tongue, hands bracing underneath your ass to keep you from falling. “Erik.”

“Just something to tide me over. Ground zero, I gotchu, ma.” He held his hands up, an ‘innocent’ expression gracing his face. “Come on, stop cleaning for a sec. Come play me in this game.” 

It was likely your eyes would get stuck with how hard and often you’d been rolling them today. “You lucky you cute.” 

He copped a seat on the floor, cheesing as he set up the system. 

“I like you too.” 

[emmaekay]

Keiyaku VII for TPTH Vegebul Smutfest

AN: Well, here we are! It’s the end of Keiyaku. Have you enjoyed it? By the end, it was 20,100 words long. Thank goodness for @tpthvegebulsmutfest rule of using cuts! I love getting comments, hilarious tags and reblogs, so feel free to tell me what you think. Did something not make sense to you? Let me know! I plan on doing a full edit after the smutfest but before I put this up on AO3, which one of you asked me to do. Did you figure the ending out in advance? Did I shock you? Did you know that authors are desperate for human contact?

Day Seven – Cancer

“BEGIN!”

Bulma wanted to run away, she wanted to hide, she wanted to beg for mercy. She did none of those things.

Vegeta wanted to launch himself from his seat, to enter the battle, to rip Daiku apart and let his blood wash over the ground. He did none of those things.

Daiku wanted to refuse to fight. He wanted to throw the fight. He wanted to leave Bulma there, unharmed. He did none of those things.

“BEGIN!” once spoken, the command rang out over the assembled crowd and could not be unspoken. The battle would need to be met.

Daiku launched himself forward at Bulma – he would not drag her agony out needlessly. One light punch to the most heavily padded part of her suit should be enough to incapacitate her without killing her. He hoped he would not kill her.

Closer and closer, Daiku flew toward her, but Bulma felt the half-second stretch out into an eternity.

You have everything you need inside you.

I will swear upon my honor never to touch her – not in lust or in anger, so long as you live.

VEGETA, STOP!

It was time to test her theory.

“DAIKU, STOP!” Bulma shouted with all her might, all her willpower, all the strength she had in her tiny little frame.

The entire Saiyan audience jumped to their feet, stone silent. King Vegeta’s eyes were wide with disbelief, Prince Vegeta’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, mouth agape, frozen and breathless. Of all the Saiyans gathered, only Queen Pea, hiding the barest hint of a smile under one hand, remained unmoved by what she saw before her.

In the fighting ring, Daiku had frozen in place. One leg lifted in his blitz of a run. One arm swung forward and aimed at the dead center of Bulma’s chest. Less than one hair’s breadth separated his fist and her breastbone.  

That would have been enough to draw jeers, cheers, jibes and still more betting – but it wouldn’t have dumbfounded the entire audience. That, however, wasn’t the only thing that had happened.

Bulma was glowing, surrounded by a radiant, royal purple light. Ki rolled off her in waves and she hovered above the floor by six inches. Her head was thrown back and as soon as Daiku froze in his assault, she spoke.

Her voice was not her voice – it was amplified and multiplied, as if three Bulmas spoke at once. She lifted her head and pierced every listening ear through its owner’s heart with the force of her voice.

“DISHONOR.”

Daiku glared at her. She, floating off the floor, was finally at eye level with him now. “What?” he choked. Is she impugning MY honor? Daiku felt a fury growing inside him.

“YOU ARE DISHONORABLE.” Bulma’s glowing form continued to accuse him. “YOU SWORE NEVER TO HARM OUR MOTHER FOR AS LONG AS OUR FATHER LIVES.”

From high in the stands, ever Saiyan’s hair stood on end. The King whipped his head around to stare, disbelieving what he was hearing, at his wife. She smirked at her King, who flopped down to his throne – the mystery solved for him. Prince Vegeta never looked away from Bulma, not even to blink, never once as she continued to speak.

“DISHONORABLE ONE. DO WE SPEAK UNTRUE?”

Daiku dropped out of his fighting posture, straightening his back and trying to compose himself. The fury which had nearly blinded him a moment ago began to melt away and was replaced by something wholly different. He bent at the waist, and laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

“No, no, you speak truly,” he sputtered, still chuckling. “I swore never to touch your mother in lust or in anger for as long as your father should live.”

“THEN IT IS A DISHONOR FOR YOU TO FIGHT HER NOW.” Bulma’s form continued, her eyes a soft lilac in color and the brilliant aubergine light around her still flickering and flaring out around her. Vegeta choked and sputtered, trying to understand, trying to process what he was seeing.

Her ki has been different.

She has been eating more than even I.

Daiku’s voice broke him out of his reverie. “You are… very young. I am not fighting her in anger, nor am I conquering her in lust. This is an honorable battle and I am filled, especially now, I am filled with joy. There is no dishonor in this match for me.”

“I SEE.” Bulma’s body spoke. “THEN IS THERE HONOR HERE FOR OUR MOTHER?”

“Yes,” Daiku replied. “She has already satisfied the conditions for her victory, since you have kept her standing for one minute. There is honor in battle for all Saiyans.”

“GOOD.” At that, Bulma’s ki flared to the highest point of the ceiling and she shot forward, punching Daiku once – hard – in the belly, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to his knees. He held one arm up high over his head, palm open.

Surrender.

The courtyard erupted into screams and cheers, a great throng of Saiyans began to chant PRIN-CESS-BUL-MA! PRIN-CESS-BUL-MA! The King and Queen broke into wide, wide grins and called out over the din, “VICTORY! THE FASTING IS DECIDED! HAIL THE PRINCESS BULMA! VICTORY! THE FASTING IS DECIDED! HAIL THE PRINCESS BULMA!”

Vegeta flashed and in an instant was at Bulma’s side, as the light around her dissipated and she fell to the ground. Her blue eyes fluttered – her own blue eyes – and she looked up at Vegeta. “Did it work?” she asked him, before falling fast asleep in his arms as her new people rioted in joy around her.

***

When Bulma came to, she was on a plush, ruby red couch. She was wearing her Saiyan battle suit. She was alive.

And she was confused.

She remembered yelling, she remembered Daiku freezing on the spot, like Vegeta had done many times, like the castle guard had done many times. Bulma’s theory was that Saiyan men were weak to screaming women. After all, when Vegeta heard her yell, he dropped everything. The guard, even on pain of death, had been frightened enough to jump out of her way. She had intended to just scream at Daiku for the full 60 count and weasel out of the fight that way.

But instead, she’d blacked out and when she came to, she was here.

She blinked and looked at the room around her. Plush, red velvet furniture and a gilded four poster bed under a massive leaded window, easily 16 feet tall, drapes drawn open and the night sky in full, glorious view.

A knock came at the door. “Come in.” Bulma said softly, sadly. She assumed she had just fainted dead of fear, losing the match, embarrassing her and dishonoring Vegeta. Would she ever see him again? Would he even want to see her, after such a miserable performance?

Beri entered the room with two armfuls of Bulma’s favorite liquid silk fabric, this time in an intense eggplant purple. “Princess Bulma, you’re awake! Thank goodness, thank goodness. Are you alright? How does your body feel? Do you hurt anywhere? Would you like a drink, or some meat, or should I just go find the Prince?” Beri dumped the fabrics on the bed and rushed toward Bulma in her flurry of questions and concerns.

“Beri… I thought you would hate me? And what happened in the match?”

“Hate you?! Princess, you are my greatest treasure – the greatest treasure of all Saiyans!”

“I’m so confused.”

“That,” Vegeta growled from the doorway, “is because no one can ever explain anything properly around here. Including you.”

Huh?

“Beri,” Vegeta addressed the dressing woman. “You are excused for one hour. Do not return early. Inform the King and Queen that we will be down to the feast at our leisure.”

Beri smiled warmly at Bulma and nodded dutifully at Vegeta, then excused herself.

“How. Did you. Do that.” Vegeta snarled, his voice dark.

“Do what? Vegeta, are you angry with me? Did I lose? Did I dishonor you? Why is Beri calling me Princess now? Why is she so pleased with me?”

Vegeta’s face softened. She didn’t know.

“Bulma… you won. You struck Daiku once in the belly, dropped him to his knees and he admitted defeat.”

“WHAT?”

“Do you not remember?”

Bulma sat down on the edge of the bed. “I remember going to the match. I remember Daiku rushing at me. I remember yelling at Daiku once, to stop. And then I remember waking up on that couch.” Bulma pointed to the couch the Vegeta stood next to. “I don’t remember punching Daiku or winning or anything else.” She frowned.

Vegeta crossed the remaining space between them and snatched her up off the bed, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. His Bulma. His Princess Bulma.

“Bulma, you could have died. What was your plan, to shriek at him until his died of his deafness?”

“You do what I say when I yell at you.”

“Because of the keiyaku, you little fool.” He held her more tightly, kissing the top of her head.

“The castle guard did what I said when I yelled at him.”

Vegeta frowned, but before he could ask her what she meant, he felt his mother’s energy in the room. He released Bulma and turned to face her as she walked into the room and sat upon the couch.

“Hello, children,” she smiled warmly. “Do you have questions or would you like to be left alone?”

Bulma blushed, longing to be alone with Vegeta, but he was already crossing over to sit in a chair facing his mother.

“What,” he demanded, “is going on?”

“Vegeta, have you ever heard of the Saiyan Gemini?”

“No.” He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

“It’s very rare, my son. Very rare and very strange. And very powerful. From a one in a million Keiyaku, sometimes two babies can be born from the same wombtime.”

“Two WHAT?” Bulma shouted. “Two what? What did you say?”

“Don’t be afraid, my girl, it is clear that they are bonded strongly to you already.” The Queen smiled, reassuringly.

“Two what? What?”

Vegeta had not spoken. She was always hungry. Her ki was different. Her commands were irresistible to Saiyan men.

“Bulma is…” Vegeta trailed. “Bulma is… Bulma is…”

“Oh children.” Queen Pea tittered, rising from where she sat and crossing to Bulma. She took the younger woman’s hands in her own and lead her to sit on Vegeta’s lap in the chair he seemed stuck to. She took her seat on the couch once more and looked at both of them.

“Bulma is with child. With children. She is exhibiting all the signs of the very rare Saiyan Gemini.”

“I’m…” Bulma began.

“You’re…” Vegeta said.

“Congratulations! The King and I are so pleased.”

Bulma began to cry, but not in sadness, in overwhelming joy as the most gentle aura of plum colored light began to emit from her belly. Her twins were telling her hello. Vegeta placed his hand carefully, carefully, so carefully on her glowing middle and the light expanded to cover his hand and up his arm.

“I think,” Bulma laughed tearfully, “I think they’re saying hello, daddy.” She wept and wept. Vegeta’s hand shook.

Queen Pea addressed them both. “I knew Bulma was pregnant the day I saw the two of you playing in the field. When a Saiyan woman becomes pregnant, her words become irresistible commands to any male Saiyan they’re aimed at. When you told him to stop,” she looked at Bulma, “he stopped. We evolved this way to make our very difficult and dangerous pregnancies a little easier – it keeps our big, dumb lovers from accidentally harming us.” She laughed. “I didn’t realize it would happen in a non-Saiyan woman, though.”

Bulma and Vegeta both looked very young, the Queen thought, as they hung on her every word.

“But the Gemini! That shocked me today. You were in absolute mortal peril and your babies took over your body to protect you. They will be powerful. And brilliant!” She clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait to meet them!”

The Queen gathered up her skirts and made for the door. “Come down to the feast, soon!”

Vegeta and Bulma just stared at the door, long after the Queen had closed it behind her.

***

Vegeta was on top of her, behind her. She was twisted underneath him, one leg crooked protectively against her swollen belly. She needn’t worry, though – Vegeta was twice as protective of his soon to be born young.

He slid one hand over her belly, up and over her round breast and up the ivory column of her neck. He stroked her cheek with a thumb as he stroked in and out of her with a burning need.

Her long blue hair flowed over her shoulder and lay like strands of the finest silk on the bed. Vegeta listened to the soft gasps of her breath. He watched a delicate pink flush bloom on her cheeks.

My Princess. My Bulma.

Bulma felt him flow deeply into her, deeply and gently and she moved one leg to engulf him more fully. He slid in and out of her, building up the speed and depth. His hands caressed her, and he bent over her to steal a kiss.

My Prince. My Vegeta.

They clung to each other in love and in passion, in desperate need for the other – as always. But something new had developed in these last few months, in addition to the twins growing strong in Bulma’s belly. Their lovemaking came with a sense of peace and of home. That no matter where they were, as long as they were together, they would be home.

He nuzzled into her neck, aligning their bodies with such exactness.

She was made for me. My perfect one.

Bulma could feel him more deeply than ever before and as he ground against her, she cried out in pleasure and happiness.

Take me to the man I’m destined to be with!

Vegeta felt her tense and relax, tense and relax around him, and he let go inside her with a growl like a purr from the back of his throat.

Bulma was home. She couldn’t wait to welcome her babies, and introduce them to their father.

[eddiespagheti]

What Amy Forgot Chapter 7

When Amy wakes up in a hospital, she thinks she's 27, about to start working in a new precinct. She's actually 37 and married. Now, with a life she has no recollection of and a husband she no longer knows, she must uncover the pieces and find herself once again.

The Rest

When Amy remembers it years later, she faintly remembers the close feel of the gun against her temple, her heartbeat accelerating like a lion running after its victim. Which, she mused later, made Romero the lion but he wasn’t chasing, no, he had already caught up to it.

She remembers slowly standing up from the bed, being careful not to startle him as he gripped her arm tightly and told her not to try anything. The slight thump in the floor of the baby book, now long forgotten. The names she had read floating out of her brain and lightly hitting the ceiling, like deflating balloons.

Her eyes darting around the room in pure staggering fear, looking for her gun or for anything that could offer her a form of protection. Don’t try anything, he says before half dragging her to the living room and Amy finally coming to her senses and wrestling away from him.

Everything is like in slow motion, as if her whole life is lagging, feet dragging through the clay.

Then, when he tosses her against the dresser and she hits her head against it, everything becomes painfully clear.

He looms over her, gun waving as he shrieks. She’s not really paying attention. She’s still in shock because he’s real. He’s real and he’s here and he has a loaded gun.

“Anybody there?” he asks after a moment, kicking her leg making Amy fall to the floor on her elbows. She gazes up at him. “Where’s Jake? Where’s that little weasel?”

“I don’t-I don’t know.” She shakes her head. He grunts and Amy blinks away from him.

 What is she going to do? How is she going to get out of here safely? How does the gazelle try to escape from the lion’s jaws?

Then, the sun moves through the curtain, illuminating the precision knife she uses for her scrapbooks thrown under the bed. She gets an idea.

“Where’s he gone?”

“I don’t know.” She says again but she’s distracted, she’s trying to figure out a way to get the knife without him noticing. He doesn’t notice her eyes going to the bottom of the bed or the three feet between her hand and said knife.

Still, his face darkens like a storm approaching water.

“You know, I told myself that I’d stay away for a while, I never really meant to hurt you. My problem is with Jake, not you, but he’s a slippery little eel. How do you catch a little eel? By getting Mrs. Eel. But what do you do when Mrs. Eel tries to escape?” he pauses. Amy looks up at him, her left hand slowly reaching under the bed. “Do you a) let her run? Or do you b) push her down some stairs because she’s really pissed you off by running away?”

Amy swallows thickly, remembering his thick hands on her shoulders and the BANG as her head hit the railing.

“I felt sort of bad when I saw you at the bottom of the stairs, all pale and barely breathing. I felt so bad that I even called an ambulance. ” He laughs, waves the gun around. “But, look at us now.” He grins off into the distance, slightly distracted and Amy takes a chance. The knife edge digs into the floor as she slowly drags it up. It makes a noise, like a scratch, but it goes unheard by Romero.

And before he sees her, she stabs it as hard as she can into his leg. It feels like cutting into raw chicken and she cringes but doesn’t stop until it’s jammed into his leg.

He lets out a hiss of pain, cursing loud enough to shake the door off its hinges. She knows she’s hit a tendon from the gushing blood and the loud curses that continue streaming through his mouth.

“You fucking-“ he begins and points the gun straight at her but before he can shoot, she twists the precision knife, making him fall onto his knees in pain. A loud crack sounds as he falls onto his knees. As he falls, he presses the trigger, the bullet grazing her shoulder and hitting the dresser behind her. Amy doesn’t let go of the knife, despite how much he tries to wrestle away. The blood runs down her hand as she twists it again, as if she’s unlocking a door, or perhaps locking one.

Her own shoulder bleeds onto her shirt, making the purple dark but she can hardly feel it. She can hardly breathe as her heart beats in her ears.

He lets out an ear-piercing scream and scurries to grab her, no doubt to finish putting that bullet in her shoulder or maybe in her head but she crawls away. She makes it to the kitchen with him ambling behind her, his leg makes it hard for him to walk and Amy hears as he drags it behind him.  She imagines the blood trailing after him like a trail and shivers.

As she makes it to the door, he shoots off the gun again. This one misses her terribly, hitting the refrigerator instead. He’s losing blood, a lot of it, and Amy knows he’s very close to passing out. Still, she runs. She makes it out to the hallway, Romero now running after her slower. His threats are quieter, duller, the intensity oozing out of him in red, thick blood.

Her shoulder starts to ache now, the pain like a pulsating heart. The blood drenches her top even more now, now going down to elbow. She’s dizzy, too and knows that she only has to outrun him. He’ll be down soon, she knows he will.

Black spots appear in her vision. She blinks tightly and they’re gone but the edges of her vision remain blurred.

She’s at the stairs, about to start climbing down when he catches up to her, his thick hand wrapping around her mouth as she begins to call for help. His eyes are dark storms, a hurricane destroying everything in its path.

Jake, Jake, Jake, she thinks.

“You think you’d get away from me a third time?” he says throatily. Amy tries to wrestle his hand away from her mouth, her blood soaked hands streaking his with red. He presses the gun to the middle of her chest and she drops her hands.  “You think I wouldn’t push you down those stairs? Stab you with this knife just like you did to me? Think I wouldn’t put another bullet in you?” He pauses, teeth glowing as he breathes through his mouth harshly. She can tell he’s in tremendous pain. “Because of Jake I got six months in solitary and ten more years added to my sentence.”

But you got out, she wants to say but can’t. The only sound is the dripping of blood from his leg and his harsh breathing.

“You want to know what I did during solitary? I thought of everything that I would do to Jake once I got out and I crafted a plan.” He shakes his head. “Jake doesn’t deserve an easy exit, doesn’t deserve one big hit and that’s it. He deserves to be chipped down little by little until there’s nothing left but rubble.”

Someone in one of the apartments laughs at something on TV and Amy calls out to them help, please help. Call Jake or Rosa. Anybody.

“It wasn’t easy to get out.” Romero shakes his head. “But once I did and I found out about your little wedding, I made sure it didn’t happen. And then you two left in hiding.” He laughs a booming laugh, eyes un-focusing on her face.  “It was hard to find you, you know? But, a buddy of mine remembered you from the hospital.” He pauses, fakes sincerity. “Sorry about the baby, by this way.”

This is the final thing Amy needs before she kicks him in the leg. As he stumbles, Amy reaches out and pushes him. He rolls down the stairs, dropping the gun with a clack. Amy races down and grabs it before he can. He groans from the stair landing and Amy can tell that the knife has edged deeper into his leg.

“Goddamn it!” he grumbles, teeth grinding in his pain. He looks very pale, all the color siphoned out of him. Is this how he saw her those months ago? Pale and in pain at the foot of the stairs?, she thinks.

With shaky hands and an even shakier voice, she says, “Romero, you’re under arrest.”

When Amy awakes at the hospital, she sees Jake asleep at her bedside. She isn’t sure how she woke up here. All she remembers is her neighbor , Mr. Tatum, finding her over Romero’s almost passed out body and his shaking hands as he called 911 after she ordered him to. Then, after that, everything is blurry. She has a slight headache and she figures she fainted. Her bloody clothes have been exchanged for a blue hospital gown and Romero’s blood on her hands is washed off. But, still, she feels the sticky sensation.

Jake’s chest rises as he sleeps, his arms are crossed on his chest tightly. The tightness in his brow tells her that he fell asleep worried, probably terrified. Her heart aches at the thought of him arriving and finding her passed out by the stairs with her bleeding shoulder.

She deliberates for a second and slowly stands up, careful not to move any of the cables attached to her. Her finger traces over his features as he sleeps. She knows she should feel relief at the thought of Romero being gone, of him and his horribleness leaving them alone finally, but she’s a little scared. Because, in the trees, there’s always another monster but, as she looks at his calm sleeping face, the fear in her chest dissipates. Because, no monster if ever that scary without him by her side.

He wakes shortly after that and as they share her green hospital provided Jell-O, he tells her that Romero was gone. This time for good. He told Amy of arriving and finding Mr. Tatum crying over her fainted body. He was holding her gun and making sure that nobody got close to her or Romero as the police arrived.

“He’s honestly traumatized.” Jake adds.

Amy makes a mental note to send him a basket of fruit as thanks.

He pauses as he speaks and says, “You stabbed him in the tendon, you know?”

Amy grimaces, remembering the sickly feel of his blood gushing down her wrist and the twisting of the knife.

“At least he’s away.”

Jake nods and his face turns worried. “It was so scary to find you like that. Blood all over your hands and just…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Just, I got dejavu to what it probably was when, you know…”

Amy nods, takes his free hand. “Yeah, I know.”

“I didn’t see you that time until the hospital and seeing you there with blood all over you, makes me glad I never did.”

Amy squeezes his hand. “Want the rest of my Jell-O?”

Jake’s face conveys his relief and he nods, polishing off the rest of her Jell-O while she takes a nap.

It takes her a while before she can move her arm without grimacing and another three months before they take bandage off. He grazed a bone and they warn her that she’ll feel the pain once in a while, especially during the cold times. Amy rolls her eyes; yet another cruel reminder that those ugly moments existed.

Holt puts her back on the street after weeks of her begging him and six strongly worded letters stating her case. But, Jake telling him “Don’t be Captain Lame, sir!” is probably what did it.

As she showers, she glances at the scar in her arm, tracing it with her finger. The scar on her upper arm is a few inches below it and Amy connects them like a constellation. The Wounds of Magnitude, she names it.

The blood of Romero remained in the crevices of the wood flooring in the kitchen. They told her he wouldn’t be able to walk anymore without limping. But there wasn’t a whole lot of walking in thirty years solitary.

Her mother stops by one afternoon, a few months after the sentencing, and helps her tidy the living room. They hang balloons around the apartment, banners, and her father even brings one of his prized wines from his wine collection along.  Albeit, dragging his feet slightly. Jake arrives from work and his eyes gleam at all the decorations, their friends, and Amy’s joyful face.

“Happy birthday.” She tells him and kisses his cheek.

The party isn’t the real present. The real present is an envelope tucked into deep into her drawer. It’s been there for two weeks and sometimes when he isn’t home she opens and stares at it to make sure it’s real. She put it off until his birthday, knowing that’d she’d really nailed the gift this year.

Later, when it’s just the two of them and he’s drifting off to sleep she whispers to him, “Do you want your real present now?”

“Now?” he mutters back, almost asleep. “I’m kind of tired but I can probably wake up. Just give me a minute.”

“Not that.” She says and rolls her eyes. She rolls out of bed and walks to the drawer, her hands find the crisp envelope in the bottom.   Meanwhile, Jake sits up, rubbing his tired eyes. There’s a million butterflies in her stomach, making a home out of it and she’s very close to throwing up or passing out. Maybe both. She hands it to him, her hand shaking with excitement. Jake starts to open it but stops.

“Did you get me Mets tickets?”

“Nope.” She bounces back on the bed tucking her chin into her knees. She watches with fascination as he reads the letter. His eyebrows furrow as he reads it once and then again. She’d done the same before and she understands the look on his face.

Then, when he looks up it’s the clouds have cleared. “We’re off the waitlist.”

It’s not a question but Amy still says, “Yes.”

He reads it again, eyes dragging along the three sentence paragraph.

 Mr. Peralta and Mrs. Santiago-Peralta, we’re pleased to tell you that you have been taken off the waitlist for the Nicholas Huck Adoption Center. Your caseworker, Hannah, will assist you through the process of adoption. If you have any questions….

Jake’s quiet for a second and then when he looks up, Amy can see the emotions in his eyes. Joy, happiness, excitement. “I thought I’d be sadder about turning 41 but,” he shrugs. “this is the best birthday ever. Beats that time my Uncle Scott took me to Coney Island.”

Amy grins.  “Best birthday ever?”

“The best.” he grins and reads the letter again.

“Adopting a younger child is a relatively long wait.” Hannah says a week later, the words come quickly from her mouth as if she’s said this again and again to hopeful parents. There’s a wrinkle in her eyebrows, too, as she thinks of the older kids who didn’t take their eyes off the two of them as they walked around the adoption agency.

Amy’s not paying attention. She’s staring out the window, out at a little girl with wild curls. She’s about eight with dusky skin slightly darker than hers and observant eyes. She’s swinging slowly on her own, big black book in her hands. Her eyes move quickly as she reads. The wind moves her hurricane of  hair and she sweeps it back with one motion. Amy remembers seeing her when they toured the agency. She looked up, saw them: young, green and eager, and looked back to her book.

Amy stomach drops at the thought of how many couples she’s seen to know exactly what they wanted.

Jake and Amy had spoke about the adoption and had settled on a younger child. Ideally, a baby. But now, Amy was rethinking everything.

Amy turns to Hannah. “What about an older kid?”

Jake’s eyebrows raise at this but the determination in Amy’s eyes soften his eyes and he nods along. “Yeah, an older kid.”

"Older kids are not usually as sought after as babies and most of them end up spending their time here or in foster homes." she pauses. "A lot of kids have gone through a lot in their lives."

Amy looks at the curly haired girl again and imagines the pain and the heartbreak. Although Amy’s own heartbreak is different, she feels for her.

Amy looks away from the curly-haired girl and into Jake's eyes. "So have we."

“Are you sure about this?” Jake asks her quietly when Hannah leaves them alone for a second.

Amy nods almost automatically. “Are not up for it, Peralta?”

Jake smiles, his hand settling on hers. “With you? Anything.”

Amy squeezes his hand.

Her name is Liliana and she’s eleven, about to turn twelve in three months, she explains in her quiet voice. Every so often, she looks up to make sure they’re still here and listening. Jake almost melts on the floor when she says that she’s seen Die Hard.

Hannah tells them her backstory: abandoned at two at a church, bounced around several foster homes, almost adopted once but the process was stopped when the couple found a baby. After that, she’s been staying at the Center where Hannah says she’d probably stay till she turned eighteen.

“I love her.” he says when they’re walking back to their car. “I seriously love her.”

They tell the squad later that week that they’re going through with the process.

“Terry is proud of his children.” Terry says with tears in his eyes when they tell them her backstory. “And Terry already loves his little niece.” Boyle sobs even more and tells that Nikolaj will be her best friend.

“Even better, I can see it now: us as father-in-laws.” he squeals. “You’ll be a Boyle cousin, Jake!”

“Yeah, that’s never going to happen. ” Jake says and shakes his head. “We haven’t even been approved for her adoption yet.”

“That agency would be stupid to not let you two be parents.” Boyle says.

“I agree.” Holt adds. “I think you two will be spectacular parents.”

“Thank you, sir.” Amy replies.

“Of course, it helps that the little girl isn’t biologically related to Amy because then maybe she’ll have a chance of having actual friends.”

“Thank you, Gina.” Amy says with an eye roll.

“I can take her on my bike.” Rosa says with a smile from the back of the room, her feet resting on the table. “ Better yet, when does she turn sixteen? I have an old bike I’ve been restoring-”

“Maybe we should hold off on her meeting you guys.” Jake interrupts, scared for Liliana and setups by Boyle, motorcycles given by Rosa. But, his heart swells. Is this feeling in his heart what every parent feels when they think of their kids?

They take her out weekly to dinner and she eats everything, including all her veggies. She doesn’t complain at all. The process of the actual adoption is long and her twelfth birthday comes and goes. Jake and Amy take her out for pizza, along with two of her friends from the Center. For her present, they buy her pink, glitter flats that she sits in her lap and stares at during the ride back.

When the papers go through and they go down Steward Street instead of turning towards Howard, Amy’s heart nearly bursts. Amy had already cleared out her office as a room for her. Jake surprised her and painted it Liliana’s favorite color. They almost went crazy picking out furniture and curtains. Terry spent a whole weekend drawing constellations on the ceiling, using glow in the dark paint so she’d see them before she went to sleep.

Liliana looks around with awe at the room and sets the little belongings she has in the drawers. Including, her birthday flats still as new as when they bought them.

Jake worries about her a lot, checking in on her almost hourly. Most of the time, she’s reading in Amy’s old childhood rocking chair. Other times, she’s napping.

He whispers to her at night, “She’s really quiet.”

"Yeah, and you talk way too much." He glowers at her playfully and Amy lets out a smile. He did talk too much, just nervous ramblings as Liliana stared blankly at him. They were entertaining and honestly, a little pitying. "Let's hope it catches on."

She starts school that August at the middle school five blocks down. Amy’s mom picks her up most of the time, commenting to Amy how Liliana does her homework almost immediately arriving home.

Her mother adored her from the first glance. Now, every week her mother came to teach her how to knit and her father played chess with her.

“She’s very precious.” Victor tells her later when Liliana is asleep. “Don’t let any Jake get on her.”

“Well, jokes on you because we have weekly Die Hard marathons.” Victor grumbles under his breath. Amy knew her father loved Lily as soon as Lily said she knew how to play chess. He loved her even more when she bested him thirty minutes later. She was quiet around him but she listened diligently as he spoke to her about chess. He didn’t speak to her like she was a child and Amy could tell that she liked it.

Amy usually drops her off in the morning, helping her comb her hair into a braid and ironing her uniform. One day, however, Jake is the one who drops her off and at noon, they come home smelling of popcorn.

“Jake, isn’t she supposed to be in school?”

“Yeah, um.” Jake glances back at her. Liliana looks down at her still unscuffed shoes, the wild curls in her braid unraveling. Jake shrugs. “We wanted to watch the new Thor movie, okay?” Amy glares at him but he shoots her a pleading look. I’ll explain later, it says and Amy sighs.

“How was it?”

Liliana looks up Jake, who nods to her, and she says, “It was really funny.” The smile on her face grows. “We saw Hulk’s butt.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “We saw Hulk’s butt, Ames. How cool is that? Isn’t that way funner than school?”

“It’s actually ‘more fun’; ‘funner’ isn’t a word.” She corrects. “Which you’d know if you went to school instead of looking at Avengers’ butts.”

Jake sticks his tongue out at her and Liliana hides her smile.

Later, when Liliana is watching TV in the living room, he tells her the truth. “Her nails were digging into the door, Ames. I didn’t have any other choice.”

“You think she’s being bullied?”

“No.” Jake hesitates. “I think she’s scared.”

“Of what?”

“That we….” he trails off. Amy’s eyes soften.

“That we won’t come back for her.” Jake nods. “She still has to go to school. We can’t homeschool her, Jake.”

“I know.” He sighs. “But, just let her take the rest of the week off.” She starts to talk but he cuts her off. “It’s just two more days. I’m off tomorrow and then both of us are off the day after. I’ll tell her school that she got the flu and I’ll pick her homework so she still does it. Then on Friday, we go out to eat, all three of us. We can talk about school and everything else then. We’ll assure we’re not leaving her and maybe, even talk about a children’s psychiatrist.”

Amy thinks it over. In the kitchen, she can hear Liliana quietly laughing at something on the TV and her heart swells. As if they would abandon her. She loves her with her whole being. She loves that Liliana loves going to the museum, bringing her sketch pad with her and sketching as Amy looks at the paintings. Jake deserved credit for the sketch pad, finding her doodles in old napkins. He went out and bought her four new pads, pens, pencils, charcoal, paints. Liliana was taken aback and didn’t touch them for days but now had gone through two sketch pads.

Amy loves that she loves to draw as much as she loves to read.

She loves that she adores Rosa and loves Captain Holt, who didn’t know how to act around her at first but who now bought her books weekly, knowing her to be a voracious reader.

Amy loves braiding her hair, making her lunch, just being her mom.

But now, Amy sees all the clues. How her bed is always made first thing in the morning, her still-new shoes, her quietness which Amy mistook for shyness. Everything. Everything that she was doing to ensure that she would stay here, that she wouldn’t be a burden. She didn’t want to be returned like some malfunctioning appliance; she wanted to stay. She liked it here.

Amy’s heart soars.

“Okay.” Jake begins to quietly cheer but Amy’s finger to his face quiets him. “But, no more decisions like this without my input.”

He nods. “Of course.”

“I mean, we’re her parents and this is a-“

“Parents.” He says and smiles widely. Amy’s smile mirrors his. “I just-I got goosebumps.”

“She is our daughter now.”

“She doesn’t call us mom or dad, though.”

“Jake, it’s been like two months, give her time.”

Jake nods slowly and then his face lights up. “My daughter beats your dad at chess weekly.”

Amy sighs and rolls her eyes but the smile remains on her face.

Damn right, she does.

Liliana listens carefully as they talk to her.

“I’m seeing one, too.” Amy assures. “I had a”-she looks over at Jake-“pretty bad accident late last year and I had to see one to deal with that.”

“What kind of accident did you have?” she asks.

“I fell down some stairs and forgot Jake, my whole life.” Amy says. “But, I remember him now. It was scary and I tried to hide. I didn’t want to face a lot of things but, I’m stronger now.” She finishes with a smile. “There’s still a lot of memories that are really blurry and I probably won’t remember them but that’s okay. Jake and I have made some pretty amazing memories.”

Her eyes grow slightly misty and Jake squeezes her thigh from under the table.

Liliana listens carefully and looks down at the table.

“And you’re one of them.” Jake adds. Liliana looks up in slight surprise.

“Point is, we’re your parents now and we’re not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to be a quiet little mouse.” Jake says. “Yell at us if we do something that makes you mad, scuff your shoes, don’t make-”

“Jake-” Amy interrupts.

“-your bed every morning. Just be a kid, Liliana.” He finishes and Amy nods along. She thought it was going to go somewhere else but like always, he’s surprised her.

“I like making my bed.” Liliana says after a brief pause. “And I hate when people call me Liliana. Can you just call me Lily?”

“Yes, Lily.” Jake emphasizes.

“And maybe in the future, if you feel like it, you can call us ‘mom’ and ‘dad’.” Amy says slowly, hoping to not startle her. Truth be told, she was bummed that Lily wouldn’t call them ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ but the saddest part was that Lily probably didn’t know what it was like to have a parent.

Lily nods, and takes a french fry, dipping it in ketchup. She pauses and Jake nods encouragingly . “Can we stop by the art store later? I need another sketch pad.”

“Of course.”

“We’ll get you twenty.” Jake adds and Amy shoots him a look but smiles softly at his eagerness. He loves her.

“Thirty.”

When school lets out, they go down to Boston to see Jake’s parents. So far, they’d only seen Lily once in person but Karen bonded over her over art stuff, blabbing off for hours. Roger, on the other hand, went on a long tangent about meeting Picasso when he was younger. Jake later told her that her father thought he saw Picasso but it was probably just some bald man.

Amy feels like hell most of the trip and spends most of it in the guest room while the four of them play games in the kitchen and watched films.

Lily comes in to the room when she’s trying to rest off the headache. She walks carefully up to her and sits next to her.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m sick.” Amy opens one eye, looking into her observant eyes.

“I don’t think you’re sick.” She says slowly.

“I don’t like Rodger but not enough to pretend to be sick.”

“I think you’re pregnant.” Lily says. Amy sits up automatically.

“What?”

“We learned in health class that when you’re pregnant you get really cranky and you throw up a lot.” Lily shrugs. “You threw up on the airplane and you haven’t left the room once.”

“That’s not possible.” Amy says. “I can’t…” she sighs. “the doctor says there’s like a ten percent chance I’ll ever have kids.”

“It’s still ten percent.” Lily says with a shrug and then her eyes darken. “If you have a baby, does that mean-“

“It doesn’t mean anything. It probably isn’t even true.” she says, reassuring her worried face. For the millionth time in her life, she curses her almost-adoptive parents. Still, she can’t remember her last period  but she does remember not taking her birth control pill one night. “Put your shoes on; we’re going to the grocery store.”

Lily waits in the Walmart restroom as Amy sits in the stall and worries during the three minutes. She knows it’s probably just a bug—Hitchcock was sick last week—but part of her wished it was a baby. Still, ten percent was too slim of a chance. She knows she won’t be heartbroken if it’s not true. She has Lily, she has Jake.

Her phone dings as the three minutes come to an end.

When Amy comes out, Lily raises her eyebrows in a told-you-so way.

Amy wants to smile at the direct Jake-like movement but she rushes into the stall where she throws up again.

 Amy glances over at Jake but he’s frozen, staring over the doctor’s shoulder as he speaks. The doctor’s voice is low, apologetic, and Amy looks down at her fingers.

 She feels numb, but she’s felt this way for months, ever since she stopped being Amy Santiago and started being Beatriz Lopez. Beatriz Lopez wasn’t an officer, she was a homemaker with a knitting obsession. It was hard to be Beatriz but as the numbness settled in, she wondered if large parts of her no longer were Amy but Beatriz.

 And now, she didn’t know who lost the baby. If she was supposed to mourn as Beatriz or as Amy.

 But, as she looks at Jake once again. She knows who he’s mourning as. Jake, simply Jake.

It’s hard not to tell Jake about the pregnancy but she has to be sure and she’s 37, any pregnancy at her age would be high risk.

When Amy turned sixteen, her mother dropped a packet of birth control pills onto her bed. “You’re a Santiago; you can’t walk down the street without getting pregnant.” At her look, she added, “Better safe than sorry.”

Years later, Amy would look back at that moment with a cruel ironic outlook.  She’s in a daze on the way back to precinct. She finds Jake in the evidence room going over some files.

His back is turned to her, the hunch of his shoulders looking like a sloping hill. He turns at the sound of her boots.

“Hey, babe. How was the dentist?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Jake looks up from his file at once.

"What?"

"Yeah...I'm pregnant."

"When did you find out?"

"In Boston." She says walking over to him. "I thought Hitchcock had gotten me sick but..." Amy trails off and shakes her head. “The doctor confirmed it today."

“You’re pregnant.” He says slowly, as if not understanding the word. “Like, there’s a baby in you?”

“Yes.” She says. “Your baby.” She doesn’t even notice him wrapping her against him until she’s in his arms. He holds her tight against her, breath rustling her hair.

"Jake," she pulls away and tries to sound as serious as she can. "It's extremely high risk. There's a big chance it won't really happen."

"I know. I know." he grins and then he says, "We're having a baby."

When baby Elias is born, Amy watches as he coos in her arms. His eyes are all hers but even in his miniature state, she can tell the rest of his face is all Jake.  When Jake first carried him, she was sure he was like ten percent away from crying.  She had already done all her crying during the labor; she was all cried out.

The door opens and Jake walks in, Lily holding his hand. She looks hesitant, holding a big, blue bear reading It’s a boy. She was still anxious about the baby, despite how many times she read to Amy’s belly. Maybe, like Amy, she thought it was like a distant dream but here it was real and whole.

“Hi, there.” Jake coos down at the baby. Lily stays back, watching with guarded eyes. Amy signals her over, feeling for her little almost-thirteen year old heart.

“Come meet your little brother.”

Lily looks down and her face melts. “He’s cute.” Elias yawns, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. Jake’s eyes soften as he looks at both of them.

“My two kiddos.” Jake says, settling his hand on Lily’s shoulder.

Lily rubs her finger against his cheek and Elias’ tiny baby cheek dimples.

“You want to carry him?” Lily nods almost shyly, dropping the bear to the bed and holding her arms out. Amy lowers him into her arms and watches in wonderment as Lily perfectly positions him in her arms. Elias yawns again.

“Am I going to share a room with him?” she asks.

“For a little while.”

“I don’t mind.” Lily says. “I can take care of him. I took care of the babies at the Center.”

“You don’t have to.” Amy shakes her head. She wants to cry at the fact that she's’ trying so hard to not be a burden. “Just be his big sister. We’ll worry about the rest.”

Her mother comes to take her home and Lily’s eyes don’t leave her baby brother until the door is closed.

When it’s just her and Jake, she looks down at Elias’ now-sleeping face.

“I think it would’ve been so much harder.” She says quietly. “If I had my accident after them both.” She looks up at him and Jake is paying close attention. “I would be devastated to forget them.”

“I know.” Jake pauses. “That was one of the hardest times of my life and I was stupid to think having them around would be easier.” He shakes his head. “I think of all those times that I stayed up late thinking that you’d probably never remember me. If I had the kids with me, I’d probably go crazy if you didn’t remember us. I think I’d be more devastated for them.” He pauses. “I went down that scenario so many times. What I’d do.”

“What would you do?”

“Nothing.” Jake says quietly. “I thought that if you didn’t remember me, I’d help you fall in love with me again. But, if you found someone better, I wouldn’t stand in your way.”

“I think I’d do the same.”

He snorts. “As if. I’d live a hundred lifetimes and still fall in love with you.”

Amy smiles. “You said that to me before.”

“And I meant it then and I mean it now.”

“I wouldn’t remember her first Christmas with us or the first time I met her.” Amy says quietly.

“Falling in love with her.” Jake scrunches his nose up and smiles at her. “Or her adorable lisp for the first weeks.”

“Or his first kick.”

“Or the first time she called me ‘dad’.”

Amy laughs, “You cried like a baby.”  Amy find his hand and threads their fingers. “The first time she called me ‘mom’, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t stop smiling.”

Jake glances at baby Elias. “Want to count his toes again?”

“No.” she says. “Let’s count his eyelashes again.”

“And, how are things?” Dr. Ramirez asks her.

Amy shrugs. “Pretty good. Elias is walking now.”

“No new memories?”

Amy shakes her head. “I have tons of good ones now. Lily joined the soccer team and Jake took so many the pictures of her. “

Dr. Ramirez smiles. “And the fogginess? It doesn’t bother you?”

That’s what Dr. Ramirez called her missing memories, the ‘foggy’. Those memories hadn’t returned and while she grieved them before, she didn’t mind anymore. Going through that terror and that heartbreak made her stronger. Made her and Jake stronger.

“No, because everything ahead of me is clarity, I’m sure of it.” She thinks back to Romero, to her accident, to her father’s heart attack a few months prior. “There’s bad clarity and there’s good clarity and I’m glad I have Jake’s hand to guide me through it all.”

Amy passes her Lieutenant's exam when Elias is four. Lily, a sullen teen girl now, even pushed the bangs out of her face to attend the party. She was going through a straight phase and flat ironed her hair daily but the edges around her temples curled.

She’d been hanging a lot with Rosa and Lauren now that they were engaged and she thought that Lauren was the coolest person ever.  

Rosa corners her. “Hey, is your kid trying to steal my fiancée?”

Amy rolls her eyes, adjusting her uniform. “Leave her alone.”

"It's okay. I get it." Rosa lets out a half-smile. “I remember when I was sixteen and I had a crush on Mrs. Montevideo. She was so hot for her age.” Amy raises her eyebrows, noticing the similarities between her daughter and Rosa. It never crossed her mind but now it’s painfully obvious.

“You think...“ Amy trails off and Rosa shoots her a look.

“Duh.” Rosa shrugs. “Just don’t pressure her. Let her figure it out on her own.”

“Okay.” Amy nods. “I can totally do that.” Amy glances at the corner of the room at Lily and the stars dancing in her eyes. She can see her in five years, working her way through college, her curly tresses probably colored some outrageous color that Jake would think would look super cool but secretly hated. Elias would be nine then and soon enough it’d be his turn to be a sullen teen. She almost groans but instead, she smiles.

Jake and Elias are in the other side of the room talking to Holt. The chevron on Jake’s uniform had happened two months prior and he wore it well. Elias notices her and lets go of Jake’s hand and runs over to her. He wraps his arms around her legs tightly.

“I’m tired.” he moans quietly and Amy picks him up, pushing his thick brown hair away from his forehead.

“We’re almost going home, bud.” She kisses his forehead and meets her husband’s eyes from across the room.

She remembers thinking that she wasn’t the same Amy that Jake fell in love with and how stupid she really was. Was the loss of a few memories going to erase the years the had together? The loss? The tragedy? There was always going to be something there.

It’s like he said, a hundred lifetimes and I’d still fall in love with you. Amy hugs her son tighter.  He smiles from across the room and makes his way over to her. She extends her hand and their fingers mold together.

Screw a hundred.  She’d live a million lifetimes and she’d still fall in love with him.

 I think everything leads to something, one way or another. I think that there’s paths we’re walking down, little doors that taunt us and doors that we mistakenly open in order to find that perfect one.

 And honestly, every single door probably leads me to you.

Excerpt of Amy Santiago: A Life in a Binder by Jake Peralta.

[hardcore-evil-regal]

Matching

They Call Me the Cavalry (BadassNinja)

Summary: Pure fluff. A family Christmas between Phil and Melinda and their three children, Jemma, Leo and Daisy.

Based on the prompt of 'Philinda as parents to Daisy and Fitzsimmons with a holiday theme', made for the Philinda Secret Santa.

Notes:This is unbetaed so all errors are mine. To my secret santa @jelllybears , I hope you like it :)

You can keep reading this here or on AO3 or ff.net

“You know these look absolutely terrible right?” Melinda says as she turns to look at him, eyebrow raised and disapproval evident in the downturn of her lips.

He shrugs nonplussed as he continues with his task of folding the sweaters that have his wife so horrified.

“I think they’re fun,” is all he says with a happy little smile.

She rolls her eyes but says nothing more as she continues to hand him each sweater to be folded and placed in the box for their separate owners. Despite his partner’s obvious disgust for the holiday themed sweaters that he had so carefully selected and ordered, Phil is unaffected as he hums a carol quietly under his breath, hands deftly folding the bright red and green woolen garment. It’s almost Christmas, just one more sleep, and with their rather substantial brood, he doubts whether he and Melinda will be able to catch much sleep what with staying up late to put presents under the tree and an indefinite early start to the day with excited children bouncing into their room..

They’ve just finished wrapping up the boxes with the sweaters and hiding them away when their is a quiet knock on their bedroom door followed by a tuft of dark hair popping around the door as a pair of big brown eyes peer up at them. After a close call last year with an excited youngster on Christmas eve, both Melinda and Phil had learnt to keep presents hidden at all times unless they were enroute to the tree.

“Mummy? Daddy?” The young four year old asks.

“Daisy, what are you doing up little one?” Melinda turns around scooping up her youngest child in her arms.

“Can’t sleep,” the little girl mumbles as a small hand comes up to rub at her tired eyes.

“I think someone’s just very excited for Christmas don’t you?” Phil says with a soft smile as comes over to his wife and daughter, brushing a hand gently over his little girl’s hair as she rests the side of her head against her mother's shoulder. “You look tired though sweetie,” he tells his youngest daughter as her little eyes blink rapidly as she tries hard not to fall asleep.

“I not tired,” she manages to say through a yawn, to which both of her parents chuckle a moment before her mum jostles her lightly and moves towards their bedroom door.

“I think you should be able to get to sleep now little one,” she says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her daughter’s head.

Little Daisy merely mumbles something incoherent as she snuggles in closer to her mother's shoulder, seeking out the warmth of her body. Her parents share a look over the top of her dozing head before her mother leaves the room, a gentle expression on her face as she glances down at her youngest child. Already four years old, it feels like only yesterday that she was but a tiny baby cradled in her arms, all pink and squirmy with a soft headful of dark hair. Walking into Daisy’s room, she folds back the rumpled bed sheets before placing the little girl in the bed. Making sure that her daughter’s favourite stuffed whale is placed snugly in her little one’s arms, she tucks the blankets around her child before pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. With one last lingering look over her sleeping child, Melinda leaves the door half open before she heads off to check on her other two children. Sticking her head through the doorway, she finds both Jemma and Fitz asleep, the latter being a surprise. Usually her little man is wide eyed and trying to find a way to weasel his way out of bedtime, especially on Christmas eve. Such a little rascal, and learning to be quite persuasive - just like his father.  The thought pulls a sardonic smile to her lips just as a strong pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind.

“All of them are sleeping,” her husband whispers in her ear, “it must be a Christmas miracle.”

She lets out a quiet huff of amusement as she turns around in his arms, wrapping her own loosely around his neck. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, she breaks free from his arms before making her way towards their room.

“Santa’s still got a work to do before play,” she tells him with a cheeky wink as she disappears through the doorway.

Shaking his head at his wife’s sense of humour, he follows after her to make sure that all of the presents are placed under the tree for their children come Christmas morning.

He’s vaguely aware of the warm tingling sensation of Melinda tracing patterns with her fingertips on his chest as he is slowly roused from sleep.

“Phil honey, the kids will be up soon,” his wife tells him in a gentle voice as she places a kiss on his jaw which is lined with a layer of stubble.

“Mmmm,” is his only response as he refuses to open is eyes and instead tightens the arm he currently has around her waist, holding her closer to him.

She lets out a short, quiet breath of laughter as she lets him tug her closer, content to just bask in the unbroken silence of the early morning with the man she loves.

“Merry Christmas Phil,” she says softly, a whisper against the skin of his throat.

His blue eyes slowly blink open at that as he gazes down at the beautiful woman in his arms. Ducking his head down as she tilts her up towards him, he captures her lips with his own in a slow and languid kiss. After several moments they part, foreheads resting against each other as they share air.

“Merry Christmas Melinda,” he whispers back, his lips brushing softly against hers.

He feels her smile against him as their lips meet in another kiss.

They’re simply cuddling in bed when they hear the telltale sign of little feet slapping against the hardwood floors. Moments later they are bombarded with small children as the door pops open and their three young ones bound into the room with big grins and giggles as they all pile onto the bed squishing in between their parents.

“KWISSMAS!!” Their little Daisy squeals with excitement clapping her two tiny hands together, a wide grin on her face.

“Yes it is sweet pea,” Phil smiles as he reaches an arm around her as well as Jemma and Leo who are grinning beside her, whilst Melinda reaches across from the other side of them encasing their children in a warm group hug.

“Can we open presents now?” A curly little head pops up out of the hug, mischievous little eyes looking between both parents with barely bridled excitement.

“Hmm…” Phil teases for a moment pretending to think about the question, “well I suppose so since we’re all up anyway.”

All three children cheer with happiness before scrambling off the bed hurriedly in a race out of the room and down the stairs to the large tree in the living room with presents piled at its base. Their parents follow at a leisurely pace as they descend the stairs in a more civilised manner. Young Leo has already upended the contents of his stocking in the floor in front of him and their eldest daughter Jemma is busy organising the presents into piles for each family member they are addressed to. Daisy however is busy rifling through each present Jemma places on her pile, little hands picking up wrapped items and shaking them as if she might learn their contents purely by ear. Melinda is unable to hide her laughter at the antics of her youngest and she encourages the children to tear into the festive wrapping as her husband sits down next to her on the couch passing her a hot cup of tea as he sips his coffee. Daisy is a flurry of action with paper flying everywhere as she tears into the wrapping of her presents. Her older brother Leo is not far behind as he reveals a build your own race car set, his mouth running a mile a minute as he begins talking about all the modifications he could make to improve its performance. Jemma unwraps her presents with more patience than her two younger siblings though Leo always likes to add that it is only six minutes between them. Her little face lights up with delight however as she unwraps a new chemistry lab set that comes with its very own microscope. She wraps her little arms around both parents as she thanks them for the present she’s been wanting for half the year, making both parents smile as they share a knowing look over the top of her head. Their little scientist was incredibly persistent and entirely lacking in subtlety when it came to dropping hints.

Just watching her children enjoy their Christmas morning as they unwrap and gasp at all their presents, Melinda feels a warm sense of contentment as she leans back to rest against her husband’s chest. Phil wraps an arm around her waist and presses a kiss just behind her ear as they sit together happy to watch their children indulge in the magic of Christmas. When their three little rascals present each of them with some familiar looking boxes Melinda barely manages to contain her eye roll as she can practically feel Phil grinning smugly behind her. Untying the ribbon and lifting the lid, she is faced with the garish red and green sweater that her husband had so lovingly chosen with a giant gingerbread man staring back at her. Lifting it out of the box, she smiles at the excited faces of the children as they too hold up their own identical Christmas sweaters. She can feel the rumble of Phil’s chest as he chuckles at the scene, and she has to admit that the kids do look pretty cute being all excited to have matching sweaters.

After breakfast, they send the kids upstairs to get dressed as they clean up the kitchen and the mess in the living room from wrapping paper and packaging. Finished with tidying up the living room somewhat, Melinda ducks upstairs to get dressed as well whilst Phil continues on in the kitchen humming carols under his breath. When their little ones come rushing down the stairs in a blur of red and green it makes his heart swell with how adorable they all look like a tiny set of Christmas babushka dolls. Finishing wiping down the counter, he tells Jemma he’ll be upstairs and their mother will be down soon as he also goes to get dressed for the day.

Walking into the master bedroom he is greeted with a sight that makes a warm sensation travel through his body and his breath hitch slightly. His wife looks at him in the mirror with a small smirk lifting the corner of her lips.

“You did this on purpose,” she accuses narrowing her eyes at him.

He is unable to hide his grin, however, shrugging his shoulders unapologetically as he moves forward to blanket her body with his as he wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder.

“I know you like it big,” he teases nuzzling at her neck, his stubble scratching at her skin lightly.

She lets out a huff of laughter at his words but tilts her head slightly to give him better access as he presses soft kisses along her jawline.

“I am swimming in this thing,” she tells him only slightly breathless making him chuckle against her skin.

“I know,” he whispers, stubble rasping across her sensitive skin, “that’s what makes you look so cute.”

“Cute!” She exclaims slapping him but with little effect as the oversized sleeves of her sweater land dully on his shoulder.

He only laughs and holds her tighter as she crosses her arms and refuses to look at him in the mirror. Her a couple of sizes too big sweater however ruins the effect and only makes her look cuter in his eyes.

“Melinda…” he whines after several moments of silence.

Her eyes flicker over to him for a moment as he pulls his best puppy dog eyes before she relents.

“I am not cute,” she turns around and slaps him again with the loose hanging end of her sleeve.

“Sure babe, sure,” he agrees wrapping his arms around her in a hug and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She resists only slightly before melting into his arms snuggling in closer and burying her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent. They spend a few quiet moments together before Melinda leaves him with a quick kiss as she goes back downstairs to keep an eye on the children whilst Phil gets dressed.

Walking down the stairs and into the living room he finds his wife watching over their children with a smile as their youngest shows her some new toy and the twins chatter away together about another new experiment they plan to conduct with their presents. Looking down at the matching family sweater he wears and at the family he has sitting there together in the living room, he can’t think of any better Christmas - regardless of how many times Melinda tells him that the sweaters are an eyesore.

x

x

Notes:

I apologise for the absolute lack of plot. If you didn't hate it please let me know :/

[myscalesofjustice]

I really like your Helsa You're not a monster story, but are you ever gonna write the whole thing it goes with? Can you write the part where Elsa stops whatshisname from hitting Hans or sumthin?

First, I am so sorry it took me a month to answer, Anon! Second, that one-shot is one of thousands in my jigsaw puzzle of what I hope to see in Frozen 2. Trust me, the movie will be released by the time I figure out what to keep and what to toss. Third, if you really are taking about when Elsa was thinking about one of Hans’ brothers whipping him, thanks for the request!

This chapter is less Helsa and more of the Arendellers getting a look into what I think Hans’ family is like, so this might make some people sad, but please enjoy this readable storyboard! New readers, the sequel can be found here.

The next morning, Elsa first felt as if some nocturnal phantom had cut into every muscle in her body and filled them with sand. Next, a monstrous rumbling like thunder upset her brain until it was pounding against her skull, trying to charge on its assailant. Finally, sunlight from the window climbed onto her face and threatened to cook her eyeballs like campfire eggs.

Go away, she moaned inwardly.

Elsa twitched the hand not stuffed under a pillow to life, and patted the bed in search of her comforter and pillow. Her fingers found a blanket, and pulled it over her eyes. Much better. Her hand continued to wander, and this time poked something soft, but when she tugged its cloth, it wouldn’t move. Why was this pillow so heavy?

Squirming her head out of the blanket, Elsa forced her aching, heavy body up and opened her eyes. Once they adjusted to the light, she discovered the source of the thunder, or better said, snoring: Her sister’s large, blond, male friend, wearing only a green nightshirt.

“EEEEEAAAAAAHH!” the Queen shrieked, and a reflexive blast of frost forced a screaming Kristoff off the bed.

Yowls of, “OW! Augh, what? Who?” followed by a higher pitched, “AAH, cold! Why?” erupted from the floor. Elsa was in shock of finding a man next to her, but then she was reminded of the splitting headache she had woken up with when another throb of pain pulsed in every nerve from the jaw up. “Wait…” she heard Kristoff mutter. One of the ice master’s hands gripped the bed sheet and pulled him up. With his top half back in her sight, Elsa could see the other hand was holding his head.

“Elsa?!” he exclaimed, incredulous. “What’re you doing in my bed?”

“This is my bed, Kristoff!” Elsa squeaked as she covered her white nightgown with a blanket. “What are you doing here?”

Kristoff rubbed his eyes then squinted around, and realized this was indeed not his assigned suite. “Um, I was sleeping,” he said through a yawn. Apparently, he was too tired to care that he had shared a bed with his monarch and girlfriend’s sister. Suddenly, he whimpered and placed both hands on his head. “Now, ow, my head is trying to kill me.”

“Mine too,” groaned Elsa. Forgetting modesty, she lowered the blanket and massaged her eyes. The Queen heard the pounding inside her brain speeding up, prompting a fresh groan. She didn’t notice the throbbing was frantic footsteps before the doors burst open.

“Elsa, are you okay! I heard a scre-!” a beloved female voice yelled, sending a new pulse to rattle Elsa’s teeth. She turned to the doorway and saw Anna standing there, wearing a pink housecoat with strawberry vines decorating the fringe over her nightie and slippers, with Olaf in a blue nightcap at her side.

“Uh, Kristoff?” Anna said, awkward as her frozen face. “What are you doing in Elsa’s room?”

“As soon as I figure that out, you’ll be the first one I tell,” he answered, rubbing his temples.

Olaf made a dramatic gasp. “Did you guys have a sleepover without us? Are there any cookies left? Oh no! Did you already take apart the pillow fort?” The snowman started waddling around the bedroom in search of the party he had missed.

Kristoff moaned as he forced himself on his feet, and almost fell back down before grabbing the bedpost. “Seriously, what do they put in that rich people food?” he asked the room. “I haven’t woken up like this since New Year’s.” That memory gave him an idea, and he patted his stomach. “Well, I don’t feel like I’m gonna be sick this time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anna said, her usual cheer renewed. “I slept like a baby.”

“Me too!” Olaf chirped while closing a drawer he had thought midnight snacks might be hiding in. “I wonder what the Southern Isles stuffs their beds with. D’ya think it’s water, ‘cause mine had a wet spot when I got up this morning.”

“What about you, Elsa?” Kristoff asked. “If you don’t mind me saying, you’re not looking too good.”

“I have the worst headache in history, but just that,” said Elsa.

Anna aw-ed, and walked over to pat her sister’s head. The gentle touch soothed her aching cranium ever so slightly. Enough to let her use it again, and she remembered the night before. “No, I had a strange dream last night too.”

Kristoff chuckled in spite of his throbbing head. “Betcha it wasn���t stranger than mine,” he said. “There was creepy music, and Hans and his brothers were dressed up for the ball, but they were half asleep, so they looked like this.” To demonstrate, Kristoff lifted his arms and moved the joints in spasmodic throws like a toy marionette.

“What?” whispered Elsa, too quietly for her company to hear. She and Kristoff couldn’t have had the same dream. Yet she remembered it all exactly as he said: The music that called her from her bed, the eleven princes all dressed in silk and jewels in the middle of the night, and Hans waltzing with thin air instead of locked in his tower room.

“Hey!” exclaimed Olaf. The snowman was crawling out from under the bed. “If you two are feeling funny, maybe Hans’ brothers did too, and that’s what they’re meeting about!”

“What about a meeting?” asked Kristoff.

Anna’s eyes went wide as pinwheels with the realization that she’d forgotten something. “Oh! Right, right, right!” she declared, waving her hands. “One of the princes, the smiley one with freckles and crazy hair. What’s his nammmme? Oh yeah, Jakob! Anyway, he was lost, and came into my room looking for the King because everyone is having a meeting in the throne room.” Her excitement deflated when she added, “Something about…Hans.”

“Hans?” asked Elsa.

The picture of the former prince dancing like he was tied to puppet strings faded to the way she knew she had seen him yesterday. His thin face, paper-white skin, dark circles under his eyes, stringy hair, filthy clothes, and his dark room in the top of the palace from which there was no escape. The dark room which had children’s drawings upon the walls, and children’s toys on the floor. And now his brothers were going to talk about him first thing in the morning? Elsa didn’t know what it was, but something inside was prompted by the memory to get out of bed and step into her slippers.

“Elsa?” Anna tried to ask, but her sister was already sprinting out the door and down the corridor. “Elsa, where are you going?” called the princess, and she hurried after the Queen.

The confused ice master and snowman still in the room exchanged a glance. “I guess where ever we’re going,” Kristoff said with a shrug, and the two ran to catch up with the girls.

By the time Elsa had found the staircase, climbed down, and reached the throne room, the Westergaards were already there. Only King Klaus was immaculate as he had been yesterday; Perfectly coiffed head of raven hair on which sat his crown, perfectly trimmed beard, and perfectly clean raiment. Everyone else was exhausted and in various states of undress. Radulf, who was holding his pen and notebook, had one arm in the sleeve of a fancy coat and the other in a casual jacket’s. Noah was wearing only one boot and a waistcoat over his nightshirt. Either Teddy or Tommy (Elsa couldn’t begin to guess which) was shirtless and had a blanket draped over his shoulder, which his twin was falling asleep on. Isak had the same spiky bird’s nest of hair and dirty white coat from yesterday’s dinner. Even Philomène was standing next to Magnus in her sleepwear, and her once spectacular undo was hanging loose like a butter-yellow shower, all the way down to her knees.

Strange, the back of the Queen’s mind considered, that Duke Carl the Weasel was not lurking in the corner. Prying on this meeting must not be worth showing himself without proper apparel or business-like wig, but whatever purpose the Westergaard sons (and one daughter by marriage) had gathered for clearly could not wait for them to get dressed. It made Elsa worry all the more.

“Geez, am I the only one who got any sleep last night?” said Anna. Having caught up to Elsa, she was surveying the crowd of disheveled royals.

Kristoff, appearing beside her with Olaf behind him, bemusedly answered, “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”

“Hey,” a voice called calmly, but the bass in it caused the Arendellers to jump. Gunnar, dressed modestly in a wine red shirt that exposed his chest, brown trousers and slippers, with only half his black hair combed and a sandwich in hand, marched up to Elsa. His reddish-brown irises looked nigh demonic in eyes turned bloodshot from fatigue, and the scowl on his face made the mighty Snow Queen of Arendelle feel like a mouse staring down a tiger.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” growled the seventh prince. “We are here to discuss a matter within the family. And are you family? No.”

Anna stepped in between him and Elsa. “Hey, don’t be like that,” she retorted. “We were just curious.”

“You would do well to remember you are not the authority here,” added Vilhelm emotionlessly.

“It’s certainly no excuse for them to come barging in here, dressed like that!” declared Noah with a theatric toss of his (still probably fake) blond bangs. “Scandalous!”

“It hardly matters,” Klaus announced from his throne. Like a fine sword’s blade, his tone was even but carried a threat. “They are staying in our house, and would be made privy to our business sooner or later.” The King looked to Radulf at his side. “This stalling is a bother, Radulf,” he said. “We may as well have it over with, given the state all of you are in.”

“Respectfully, my King,” Radulf said in his nasally voice, trying to shake off his coat sleeve. “Jakob has not returned, and therefore we are not all of us.”

Olaf raised his twig arm. “Ooo! Ooo! We saw him! He was looking for the King right over there!” The snowman pointed to Klaus, proud of his deduction.

Radulf rolled his bespectacled eyes. “Well, he’ll be doing that for hours,” the third prince muttered under his breath. He scribbled something down in his book, then turned back to Klaus. “As you said, Majesty, we will begin.”

“Perfect.” The King snapped his fingers and pointed to the adjoining corridor. “Gunnar, fetch the accused.”

A hideous grin like a reopening wound formed on Gunnar’s face. Elsa half expected to see fangs dripping with blood. “I’d be happy to,” he hissed. He shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, and sprinted to the direction of Klaus’s finger.

With only dawn lighting the room, it was too dark to see what was happing in the corridor. A cold clinking Elsa wasn’t prepared for came from the shadows, and Gunnar’s voice echoing, “Go on! Move it!” The seventh prince stepped back into room with a fistful of chains dragging behind him. At the end of the iron links was Hans, worse than before. He had shackles on his ankles, his wrists, and one around his neck barely loose enough to let him breathe. Chains from all these shackles interwove into the line Gunnar was holding, like a depraved dog leash. Elsa stared in horror as Hans was dragged before Klaus. The youngest brother looked upon his monarch with a flickering flame behind his eyes, but the eldest’s cloudy right eye staring back held the risk of deep mists which could smother that tiny spark. Now everyone would see whose force was greater.

“Present the record, Radulf,” ordered the King.

With one last vigorous shake, the coat fell off Radulf’s arm. He flipped to a page in his notebook and cleared his throat.

“Let the record show,” he proclaimed to the room. “That we all retired last night within the hour of ten, the Princess of Arendelle and her valet the latest at quarter to eleven.” (Elsa, Anna and Kristoff’s jaws all dropped at this.) “Followed by myself seven minutes later once I had gathered my reconnaissance on our whereabouts for that night. At approximately half past five this morning, yours truly Prince Radulf, Prince Magnus, Prince Vilhelm, Prince Bernhard, Prince Gunnar, Prince Isak, Prince Theodor, Prince Thomas, the absent Prince Jakob, and Prince Noah awoke on the floor of the palace ballroom, wearing attire other than nightclothes and with no recollection of how we got there. Amongst us was the accused, Hans Westergaard, likewise sleeping in the ballroom and not in the garret of the north tower he has been committed to following last month’s fire…”

Radulf’s voice faded to a distant echo in Elsa’s ears while inside she was screaming, It wasn’t a dream! She truly had woken up at midnight to find Hans and the Princes flushing downstairs to dance in their sleep! They must have eventually collapsed before they still had the strength to return to their beds. Admittedly, it still sounded absurd. Sleepwalking was one thing, but sleep…dancing? With twelve people at once? Yet here was Hans, on trial for it. But if the midnight ball was real, the haunting music coming from nowhere which had accompanied the scene must be real too. Elsa couldn’t help but think this strange song is what bid her and Kristoff to wake and the Westergaards to dance.

“Ce salaud a empoisonné mon mari!” interrupted Philomène, before bursting into wet sobs. Magnus pulled his wife into his arms and let her bury her head into his neck, but the look on his face implied he would rather be doing anything else.

Bernhard, whose crimson hair was oddly in perfect curls, held up a dancing shoe for all to see. “Look at this!” the sixth prince yelled. He put a finger into the shoe and poked through a hole in the sole. “My favourite Italian shoes, trash!”

Not prepared to be upstaged, Noah cut in with, “Well, do you any of you know what broken sleep does to the faculties of an artist? I couldn’t possibly tell a D sharp from a B flat right now!”

“Silence!” commanded Klaus. The word was hard and cold as stone, just like every other sound that came out of his mouth, but the echoing order stole the voices of his audience. It also startled Teddy/Tommy awake, who almost lost his balance when Tommy/Teddy caught him by the shoulders.

Klaus interlocked his fingers, and rested his chin on them. “Now, Hans,” he said, vaguely attempting at gentleness. “It is in your best interest to not be difficult. All we want to know is how you conducted this little practical joke.”

Hans’ eye and lips were twitching. It was plain to see that rage was bubbling inside him, ready to explode like a volcano. Nevertheless, he took a deep inhale and exhale. Then he said, “For the tenth time, and I have been counting, I! Do not! Know!”

A swift knee in the side from Gunnar forced Hans on his knees. He bit his lip before a cry of pain could escape just in time for his seventh-eldest brother to grab him by the iron collar and crouch to his level.

“That’s your King you’re talking to,” Gunnar hissed in Hans’ ear before he released him.

An unpredicted smirk appeared on Hans’ face. “Isn’t this just typical, Klaus?” he asked brazenly. “I finally have your attention, and it’s for something I didn’t do.”

The grip on his patience coming loose, Klaus’ hands moved from his chin to his throne’s armrests. “What is typical, Hans,” he said through gritted teeth. “Is you making a cockroach of yourself and being found where you are not suppose to. Your escape is not the mystery. It is the question of how you transported ten bodies without leaving signs of strain or resistance.”

Hans shook his head and made a noise that was half a sigh and half a groan. “Look, I fell asleep in my bed upstairs, and when I woke up, I was in the ballroom and Isak was chewing on my hair. That’s all I know, and all you’re going to get from asking me.”

Klaus glared and straightened his posture. Suddenly, Gunnar broke the silence. “Living up to your name even now, aren’t ya, Handful?” he snorted.

Faster than Gunnar could laugh at his own quip, Hans leapt to his feet and faced his brother until they were practically touching noses.

“Quit calling me that!” he snarled, earning Gunnar seizing his hair and shoving him back on his knees.

“Without willing compliance,” said Klaus. “And your inability to present an alibi or any proof to your innocence, I hereby pronounce you guilty, and invoke… Sticks and Stones.”

In a millisecond, Hans’ eyes became wide with terror. The flame behind them went out like a candle in a hurricane. Elsa heard snickering, and saw Teddy and Tommy, smiling maliciously and repeating “Sticks and Stones,” to themselves with joy.

Gunnar’s mouth again made the savage, teeth-baring grin. “Sticks and Stones, Handful,” he practically sang in triumph. The seventh prince stood and ran to the corridor. Hans did not seem to notice his keeper’s leave of his side, much less care enough to try to move away.

“Stiiiiiiicks aaaaaand Stooooonesss…” Isak’s haunting voice drawled.

Those three words spread to every tongue in the room like an airborne disease. Whispers of surprise, of satisfaction, steadily rising in volume and giving Elsa gooseflesh. She caught a glance at Kristoff as he swallowed hard, sharing her sentiment.

“What’s Sticks and Stones?” asked Anna, oblivious to the sinister haze making the air heavy. Elsa and Kristoff turned to look at the girl between them in confusion. With more excitement, she answered herself. “Oh, do you think the’ll put him in the stocks?”

Elsa felt a tiny crack in her heart. Oh, Anna. Sweet Anna, so full of light that she could not see the shadows. Whatever heinous finale of this trial Elsa knew was coming would be, Anna could not be allowed to see it. The Queen took hold of her sister’s arm and tried to pull her outside.

“Anna, we should go,” she said, halfway to panic and her hands growing cold as proof.

“What? Why?” asked Anna. Elsa desperately wanted to simply to pick up the Princess and run far away from this room, but Anna pulled away from her sister’s chilly hold.

“Because I…” How could she say this? “Because I think Sticks and Stones is a very bad thing, and Hans isn’t going to get off so easily.”

Much to Elsa’s shock, Anna made a little giggle. “Of course he will,” she said reassuringly. “This is his family, Elsa. You heard them: He set a fire and they just put him in a room with a nice bed and everything.”

While Elsa was trying to decide between telling Anna that being locked inside was a very real torment or that nothing she had seen inside the tower could be called nice, and think of a way to explain either one gently, Kristoff also laid his hand on Anna’s wrist and tugged. “Anna, maybe we’d better listen to her.”

Piercing through the chanting, the rattling of chains called the Arendellers’ attention back to Hans. He was no longer facing Klaus, but being forced by Teddy and Tommy to crouch in the centre of the room. The twins together pulled on their little brother’s shirt until it ripped right down the middle. When they saw what was underneath, Kristoff’s jaw and arms dropped limp, Anna gasped with horror, and Elsa followed her sister’s example before clamping her palm over her mouth. Scars shaped like winding rivers, at least four still healing, crisscrossed on Hans’ back, sharing territory with bruises, ranging in sizes bigger than a boot’s sole to small as fingerprints, and the patch of red waiting to turn black and blue where Gunnar had gotten him.

Speaking of Gunnar, he had returned, walking in a self-satisfied swagger. Under his arm was a rectangular wooden box, about a foot in length, and behind him were two muscle-bound men wearing uniforms and deadpan faces. The men walked to Hans, and took the place of the twins as they held him down. Gunnar strutted up to Radulf and thrust the box into the bespectacled prince’s chest. Finding the carved wood somehow offensive, Radulf grimaced, tucked his notebook under his arm, and took the box, but kept it as far as his arms could stretch.

Gunnar lifted the box’s lid, and the sight of its contents widened his smile. He pulled out a black rod, and the leather tail attached to it slunk to the ground like a viper.

Please no, thought Elsa. Her eyes darted back and forth from Gunnar, shivering with pleasure from the whip in his hand, to Hans, already so broken that one lick would shatter him into a million pieces. For something she knew he had nothing to do with. Gunnar flourished the whip and cracked it deafeningly against the floor twice, making his audience, except Klaus, jump.

Elsa couldn’t stand it any longer. She charged past Bernhard and Vilhelm, and as Gunnar prepared a lash for Hans’ back, the Queen screamed, “Stop!” and willed an icy rush from her hand. The wintery magic struck the edge of the handle, and the wicked length of leather turned bluish-white, hard and ten times colder than death. Gunnar howled in pain like a wounded animal. The weapon dropped to the ground and splintered into frozen blocks as he similarly fell, grasping his frostbitten hand. Elsa sprinted behind Hans, and spread her arms and legs wide as his shield.

The crowd gasped loudly, then held its breath while Gunnar continued to writhe and make beastly roars. Only Klaus had the mind to stand up from his throne, and approach the woman who had put the penalty he passed to a halt.

“What is the meaning of this, Queen Elsa?” demanded the King.

Her heart and mind still rushing, Elsa didn’t know what the answer was. What was the meaning of this? How had running back to her suite with Anna turned into running to rescue the man who had tried to decapitate her and steal her family’s crown just a little over a year ago. Then she heard a strangled noise behind her, and turned her head to Hans. “Go away!” he had whispered.

If Elsa had been listening, she would have elected to ignore the man’s order on principle. But Elsa was not listening because she was distracted by the vile pattern of Hans’ scars, scratches, bumps and bruises, and she understood why she had saved him. This could not happen again. Never, ever again.

“You said Hans has no proof of his innocence, but he does!” the Queen declared. “I am a witness to the events of last night. I saw…”  Perhaps the truth was a bit too outlandish for a jury such as this. “I saw that Hans is the victim of another of another’s crime, just like the rest of his brothers.”

The eyebrow above Klaus’ clear brown eye raised above the other. “Would you care to elaborate?” he asked.

“With your, um, consent,” said Elsa, trying to sound more regal and less shaken than she felt. “I would prefer to do so in private, your Majesty. Until then, as you initially imprisoned Hans for crimes against me, I request that he will not subjected to harm.”

The King inched closer Elsa’s face, studying her. Then his eyes ever so slightly widened. “You care about what happens to him,” he said, bemused.

Elsa tried to keep her expression firm, but the curiosity in his voice caused a terrible feeling to appear in the pit of her stomach. As if she had just given up her one loaded pistol to this King who wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

Klaus regained his regal posture, and glanced at Gunnar, who was still curled up on the floor, though his cries had lowered to whimpers.

“Gunnar, go to the sickroom and get medical attention for that hand,” he ordered.

“Wha? But sh-!” he sputtered, but a warning look from the corner of his King’s eye silenced him. The seventh prince picked himself up, and once on his feet, he pointed to Elsa. A silent promise that the Queen would pay dearly for challenging him. He walked out of the room, mumbling angry nothings to himself.

Without paying mind to Gunnar’s exit, Klaus nodded to the men still holding Hans. “And you two,” Klaus continued. “Pick him up, for Heaven sakes.”

In perfect sync, the men lifted Hans by his biceps and planted him on his feet. He turned to Elsa slowly with apprehension, and shared a gaze with his saviour. Elsa felt overwhelmed, and she imagined her face made it apparent. However, Hans’ face was an unreadable muddle. His head was shaking in disbelief, his mouth was twitching as if to form words but without any sound, and his eyes, squinting in focus, were seemingly examining her every feature. Why, he was looking for the catch! Waiting for her to make a deal or tell him, “You owe me.” Did he really believe she was heartless enough to let a human being, even him, be tortured?

Elsa snorted and whipped her head away from Hans’ insulting look. His chains jangled, and between the clinking, Elsa could swear she heard Hans sigh, “Thank you.” She turned back around to be sure, but he was already being led away. Hans’ gratitude was a strange comfort, mostly because of who it was coming from, but Elsa felt a warmth glowing inside her and she smiled without intending to.

“Do you have any more conditions regarding Hans?” asked Klaus, bringing Elsa back to the present where there was no mysterious warm feeling.

“Treat his wounds, and get him some real food to eat, please,” she answered before considering that Klaus might have been sarcastic.

“It shall be done,” he said, fortunately. He looked to Radulf, who was still trying to understand what had happened to the trial. “Radulf, make a note of Queen Elsa’s requests, find someone to clean up this mess.” The King motioned to the remains of Gunnar’s whip. “Get dressed, then check on preparations for breakfast.” 

“Certainly, my King!” said the third prince. In trying to take his notebook out of his side, he dropped the whip case with an Ulp! and tried to pick it up without losing his precious book or glasses, resulting in a humorous squatting dance. “T-today, the menu calls for pancakes prepared in the Arendellian style in honour of our guests and-”

“Radulf, don’t talk about it, just do it,” Klaus commanded.

With a bow and forced smile, Radulf scooped up the box and his fancy coat, and sprinted out the door.

“The rest of you,” the King addressed the crowd. “Go to your rooms and make yourselves presentable, now.”

The Westergaards did as they were told, and poured into the hall at the speed of molasses. The four Arendellers had yet to move, for Elsa had been staring at the frozen fragments of leather laying in a light dusting of snow since Klaus had called attention to it. Now she was dismayed at the idea of looking up, for the Queen felt weary eyes on her that she couldn’t tell were real or only her imagination.

No, she told herself as she began taking deep breaths. I’m not the Snow Queen here. I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle. No one has reason to fear me, so I have no reason to be afraid.

She was grateful to feel her flesh return to temperatures associated with warmblooded creatures, but when she was prepared to leave, she saw the state of her sister. From her feet to bulging eyes, Anna was shaking like a leaf. Her breathing was shallow, and she was frantically running her fingers through her hair. Elsa ran to her side.

“He was…but they…he could’ve…” Anna gasped. Her voice cracked from the tears she was going to shed.

Elsa wanted to hold her little sister. To steal what she had just witness from her mind and make the world look the way it should be again. What she did instead was cross her arms to hide her hands, and start making strides for the stairs. Thankfully, Kristoff’s arms enveloped Anna and rubbed her shoulders gently in Elsa’s place.

“Anna, breathe. Let’s just go,” the ice master said as her tears began to fall.

“No!” the Princess sobbed. She broke out of his embrace and took hold of his nightshirt. “No, no, no, no, no. They are the big brothers. They’re supposed to take care of him, an-and-and protect him. Not…this.”

“I get the feeling they do a lot of things they’re not supposed to around here, Anna,” Kristoff said as he took Anna’s hand and led her into the hall.

When Elsa took her first step on the staircase, Olaf called her name. She looked down at the snowman climbing next to her with surprise, as she had almost forgotten his presence. It was truly amazing how his coal eyes managed to look so much like a flesh and blood child and twice as innocent. But now, those eyes were wide with worry in a very un-Olaf-like manner that broke Elsa’s heart.

“Is Hans gonna be okay?” he asked.

“I…I don’t know, Olaf,” the Queen said. She wanted to tell him something more hopeful, but was too drained to be any less than honest. “But I’m going to try and make sure he is.” That seemed to be enough for Olaf, and he smiled as he held Elsa’s hand. The wooden touch made Elsa return the smile.

Back in the throne room, Klaus was about to leave for his study, when Jakob, out of breath and with cobwebs from parts unknown in his titian-coloured hair, burst through the corridor.

“Hey, I found him!” the eleventh prince exclaimed with joy. He skipped over to the King, and to his wrist to wave it up in the air. “I found him! Here’s Klaus!”

Klaus snatched his arm back and glared at his younger brother. Jakob, confused as always, looked around to see they were the only ones left in the room.

“Did I miss something?”