#I recently got back to walking. I took a break over winter because my shoes got DEMOLISHED from so much use.

[discoreptile]

Additional game card art!

[picklesonjupiter]

On AO3, for @hp-yuletide-bliss , cw: one smut scene at the end

Excited children and weary parents waited in a long queue to meet Santa Clause, and Harry’s job was to keep the queue moving as quickly as possible. He welcomed parents with sympathetic smiles and guided their children to Santa's lap.

He wore the apparel of a mall elf: bright red bottoms, a polyester green top, and hideous elf shoes. Being a mall elf was the last thing Harry wanted, but money was tight, so he had no choice. Luckily, he didn’t have to suffer on his own, as Malfoy took on the job as well.

Malfoy gave out candy canes after the pictures were taken, smiling and speaking in a saccharine manner. It was shocking to watch Malfoy behave civilly with the so-called plebeians, as he put it. Without the costume, Malfoy was a prissy prat.

Harry wasn’t sure what to think of Malfoy. He had met Malfoy at the campus dormitory during his first year, when he was moving in, and he hadn’t particularly liked his demeanor. It was a shame since Malfoy was just his type; most of his previous partners were blonde and of similar build to Malfoy.

At five in the afternoon, two other elves took over Harry's and Malfoy's roles. It had been a rough day due to two children peeing on Santa, and one child had been missing for about an hour. Harry was glad he could finally leave for home.

Grumbling, he began undressing in the room Santa and the elves were told to use. From the corner of his eye, he watched Malfoy take off the top, showing off his toned abs and rosy nipples, which made Harry salivate.

“Enjoying the show?”

Turning away, Harry said, “I wasn’t looking.” His cheeks flushed.

“I’ve noticed you watching me for the last few days. Yet, you haven’t had the courage to ask me out.”

Wide eyed, he asked, “You want me to ask you out?” He watched as Malfoy put on trousers and then his brown loafers. Having stopped dressing, Harry was half clothed.

“Obviously,” Malfoy arched a blonde eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I weren’t intrigued.”

“Oh.” His flush worsened as it reached the tips of his ears. “Well, would you like to go out for coffee sometime?”

“I could go for some coffee right now, then maybe I’ll invite you over for dinner.” Malfoy winked.

Harry felt his stomach churn and his heart flutter. Was he really going to do this? Malfoy's personality didn't even appeal to him.

“Alright,” he said while lacing his trainers.

He walked out with Malfoy beside him, and the silence was heavy with uncertainty. What if it didn’t go well?

“I was wondering, why did you take up a job as an elf?” Harry asked, breaking the silence.

Malfoy sighed, slumping his shoulders. “It's a long story, but to cut it short, my father demanded something of me, and I refused. He decided to punish me by taking away my allowance, and I won’t receive my inheritance until my twenty-fifth birthday.” He gestured helplessly. “Here I am, working a minimum wage job, as if I weren't the Malfoy heir.”

They approached the coffee shop's long queue. The holiday season brought out more people as they were shopping for gifts.

“I can just imagine how awkward your holiday will be with your family.”

“I wish I could stay on campus for winter break, but my mother always hosts a Christmas dinner that I must attend. My godfather recently got married to my ex-convict uncle, and they will be coming, so I know it will be entertaining.” Malfoy said, with humor in his eyes.

“I’m not looking forward to going back to see my family either. My dad thinks that I shouldn’t work because he has the money to sustain me. However, my mom says I should learn to earn my own income.” Harry stared at the menu without taking notice of its contents. “Sometimes, I never want to leave, to avoid the arguments, but it would break their hearts if I never returned.” He confessed, looking back at Malfoy.

The blonde man stared back at him with compassion.

“It appears that we are more alike than I thought.”

Having reached the front of the queue, they were in front of a cashier, asking for their order. Harry ordered his usual, and Malfoy ordered a holiday drink. To let the next person order, they moved to a corner, and Harry's shoulder brushed against Malfoy's.

Malfoy smiled, and his gray eyes shone with some unknown emotion. Harry had never seen him so relaxed. He was absolutely gorgeous . Harry couldn't resist kissing him.

Malfoy's lips were soft and warm. He leaned into the kiss, and Harry felt his heart race. They stayed like that for a few moments before breaking apart. There was a dazed look on Malfoy's face, which Harry was sure he mirrored.

“If I’d known you..." Malfoy trailed off and touched his lips.

“Yeah.” Harry whispered and drew closer to Malfoy's heat, like a moth to a flame. Needing some form of contact, he caught the other man's hand and interlaced their fingers.

Rather than withdrawing his hand, Malfoy gripped Harry's hand tightly and asked, “Would you like to come over to my place?”

“I would love that.” Harry beamed and kissed Malfoy’s hand.

A barista interrupted further conversation, announcing their order. Harry and Malfoy grabbed their drinks and headed out.

☕🎄☕🎄☕🎄

Entering Malfoy’s flat, he walked behind the blonde man, removing his coat and trainers at Malfoy’s direction. There was a large Christmas tree in Malfoy's living room, decorated with silver and gold ornaments. Stockings and garland adorned the electric fireplace. Harry was sure Malfoy couldn’t afford this place with the meager wage they earned as elves.

“Make yourself at home,” Malfoy said as he walked toward the kitchen, which was visible from the living room. “What would you like to eat? I can make just about anything.”

“Anything is fine.” Harry responded as he looked at the photos hanging off the walls.

There were many photos of Malfoy with a blonde woman and a man who looked very similar to him. Harry could now see where Malfoy got his looks from. Among the photos were some of (Harry suspected) Malfoy with his friends: a handsome man with a dark complexion and a woman with a bob haircut were reoccurring. They looked like the posh sort—nothing like Harry’s friends.

Harry approached the kitchen where Malfoy had taken out ingredients and turned on the stove. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his muscular forearms.

“How can I help?” Harry asked, trying to ignore his growing arousal.

Malfoy gazed at him assessingly before answering. “You can prepare the coleslaw. All you need to do is finely chop the cabbage and shred the carrots. I'll prepare the dressing, then you can toss it all together.”

“Alright,” he said, washing his hands.

Malfoy handed him a cutting board; he sharpened and rinsed the knife before handing it to him. Harry was shocked. Malfoy looked like the sort of man who had servants cook for him all his entire life, yet he appeared so at ease in the kitchen.

Malfoy started the stove as Harry washed the vegetables. Harry began chopping the cabbage, and the silence was pleasant, but he wanted to learn more about Malfoy, so he spoke up.

“Please don't take this the wrong way, but I am surprised at your ability to cook. What made you interested in cooking?” Harry set aside the red cabbage and began chopping the green cabbage.

Malfoy chuckled and said with humor, “I am not offended, as you are one of many people surprised at my ability. There are a number of reasons for my interest in cooking, but my godfather is a major one. He taught me how to cook despite my father's objection. It was the only thing I had that wasn't about being the Malfoy heir.” Malfoy sighed, seasoning the salmon filets.

Harry asked Malfoy where the box grater was, having finished chopping the cabbage.

“It’s on the cabinet to your left.” Harry found it and thanked Malfoy.

As Malfoy placed the filets on the pan, he said, “My godfather, Severus, was the first person I told about my decision to study culinary arts. Unlike my parents, he was supportive. The reason my father cut me off was because I refused to drop out to pursue a law degree. And then there’s my mother.” He sighed. “She does not believe I will succeed in my chosen field.”

“That’s awful. At least you have one person on your side.” Harry finished shredding the carrots. “I’m done.” He told Malfoy.

Malfoy allowed the salmon to sear, washed his hands, and prepared the dressing. “Can you handle heat?” He asked, reaching for the red pepper flakes shaker.

Harry assured him that he could handle spicy food. He mixed the cabbage, carrots, and dressing together in a glass bowl. Malfoy told him to place it on the dining table and to wait there, as the salmon would soon be ready.

Harry was having a good time so far. Malfoy was not what he had prejudged him to be. His mum often warned him not to make assumptions about people based on one encounter. He should have heeded her advice.

Malfoy brought out two plates of pan-seared salmon filets garnished with lemon slices. The room was filled with a delicious aroma that made Harry's stomach grumble.

“Smells great,” he said, staring intently at food as Malfoy placed a plate in front of him. He waited for Malfoy to take a seat before taking a bite of the salmon. Upon taking the first bite, his eyes rolled back, and he moaned with pleasure. “This is the best salmon I have ever eaten," Harry praised.

Malfoy blushed prettily. Harry's heartbeat soared. Harry went for the coleslaw instead of kissing him again. There will be time for that later.

🐟🎄🐟🎄🐟🎄

Harry delighted in kissing the blonde man, his cock swelling. Harry brushed his tongue against Malfoy’s lips, asking for entrance, and Malfoy obliged him. With his tongue, he explored every corner of his mouth, savoring each taste. Malfoy's hands roamed over Harry's body, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

He drew him onto his lap, kissing him nonstop. Harry was becoming addicted to Malfoy’s kisses. Malfoy’s arse rubbed against Harry’s erection, and Harry let out a moan of pleasure. Malfoy wiggled his arse until Harry’s cock was between his cheeks. It sent a jolt of electricity through him. Even through the clothing separating them, Harry enjoyed it.

Malfoy slowly gyrated his hips, creating friction and heat. Harry could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He could feel himself about to climax.

“Fuck, yes. Just like that.” Harry groaned, clutching Malfoy’s hips with brutal strength. There would be bruises the next morning. He came in his trousers, shouting Malfoy’s name.

Malfoy pouted, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “I didn’t get to come.” The hard cock poking Harry’s abdomen proved as much.

Harry chuckled and said, “Well, I don’t want to let you down, since this is our first time together.” He walked into Malfoy’s bedroom and shut the door.

💋🎄💋🎄💋🎄

Harry woke up in Malfoy’s bed with the blonde man in his arms. In his fog of having just woken, Harry thought he had found love. It was an absurd thought. He couldn’t love someone he barely knew.

Dad had told Harry that he had fallen in love with his mom at first sight, but Harry was skeptical. Love didn’t come so easily. What he was feeling couldn’t be love. Harry was mistaking lust for deeper emotions.

Malfoy rolled over in his arms, opening his gray eyes, and kissed him. “Morning.”

Harry’s heart fluttered, and he realized he had been wrong. He was his dad’s son.

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Eight

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, Steve, Sam, OC Monique, Tony

Warnings: language, implied smut, talk of pregnancy/children, pregnancy scare

Chapter Summary: Sam finds out about Reader and Bucky’s secret. Reader has a scare that helps Reader and Bucky have a very important conversation.

Author’s Note: This was originally going to be longer but in light of recent events in America, I decided to postpone a violent scene (so warning for the next part: violence). It’s kinda short and I’m so sorry but I wanted to give you something. As always, feel free to buy me a coffee!

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)

Despite his frustration with finding out he was breaking way more than just company protocol, Bucky’s attitude simmered and eventually fizzled out as the day went on. You’d bet seeing you uncomfortably directing security where to put your lab equipment while Bucky’s cum stuck to the inside of your thighs had an impact on his mood.

The rest of the day went by surprisingly well, all things considered. You took the day to set up your at-home lab while Steve got groceries and cooked, Sam installed security cameras in all the common areas, and Bucky searched your place for any bugs or wires. No one was weird about things, aside from Bucky when you first arrived. Sam was his usual goofy self and Steve was a dad stereotype.

That night, however, Steve sat everyone down in your living room for a little chat. Steve and Sam sat on the sofa across from you and Bucky, almost like they were concerned parents talking to you before sending you to prom.

“Okay, time to address the elephant in the room. Who knew about who you are before it was leaked?” Steve asked, elbows propped on his knees and that signature crease between his brows.

“Other than dad, Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy, just Monique,” you shrugged. “But it wasn’t her. She has nothing to gain from telling anyone.”

“Well, unfortunately we’ll have to look into her anyway,” Steve sighed. “But if it’s not her, it won’t be a problem. And you’re sure there’s no one else?”

“What about that boyfriend of yours?” Sam asked.

“It’s not him,” you said meekly. “I never told him.”

“Are you sure he couldn’t have found out?” Sam pressed.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Sam nodded but added, “We should still talk to the guy —”

“I didn’t know,” Bucky interrupted from beside you.

Sam looked confused, but Steve next to him was smirking, clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

“What?” Sam asked.

Bucky leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his stance wide and fingers intertwined in the middle. If the situation wasn’t so serious, you’d be even more turned on.

“I didn’t know,” he repeated with a forced, tight-lipped smile. “I found out this morning and I was just as shocked as you were.”

“I said I was sorry!” you groaned, tossing your arms in the air in exasperation.

Bucky leaned back to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you into his side. When he slid his arm over your neck, you instinctively gripped his forearm but the giggle you let out showed you weren’t trying to pry him off you.

While you wiggled in Bucky’s grasp to get comfortable, Sam’s eyes darted between the two of you in a mix of shock and curiosity.

“Man, how the hell did you get a girl like that?!”

Steve finally let his laugh out at this. Bucky just tightened his arm around your throat, making you moan quietly, just barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Trust me, she’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky teased. You giggled again and squirmed out of his grasp to straddle his legs, now that everyone in the room knew your secret.

“You can always be a pain in my ass,” you smirked as you draped your arms over his shoulders and scooted forward so your pelvis was pressed against him. He groaned in frustration and tossed his head back, gripping your ass cheeks in an attempt to ground himself.

“You better watch your mouth before I fuck you right here, right now, princess,” he practically growled. You bit your lip to tease him just a little bit more. He had only called you ‘princess’ twice but it was definitely doing something for you.

“I hate to be a buzzkill,” Sam started, “but her dad would skin you alive if he heard you saying that.”

“And then filet what’s left if he saw this,” Steve added.

“Bucky’d probably taste pretty good though,” Sam shrugged. “Especially if we got to the thighs.”

“Yeah, I’d go for the thighs,” Steve agreed, making Bucky roll his eyes.

“I’d go for something else,” you piped in.

“Okay, let’s end this before it gets out of hand,” Steve said. You frowned but plopped back onto the couch next to Bucky instead of on top of him.

The rest of the night was spent mapping out who knew about you, who might’ve figured it out, and what any of those people would’ve gotten out of leaking your secret. You adamantly ruled Monique out; she didn’t need the money or the attention and already knew the type of stress your secret put on you. And her concerned texts begging you to believe it wasn’t her and vowing to castrate whoever told the media helped support your case. Unfortunately, it led to a lot of dead ends. You knew it couldn’t have been Happy, Rhodey, or Pepper, but that left literally no one as a suspect.

Halfway across town, your dad, Rhodey, Happy, Pepper, and Bruce were going over their own documents and information to get to the bottom of it. None of the news stations were willing to divulge their source, claiming it was “anonymous” so they didn’t know who said it, but Tony wasn’t convinced. He was worried about you, but he also knew your temporary roommates were solid protection for you.

He just didn’t know the additional protection you’d need with one of those roommates.

•

Bucky was always great about your period. It usually only lasted a few days because of your birth control and was on the light side, but he had no issue with laying down one of his “safety towels” before laying you down during those three days. He even set reminders in his phone so he knew to be prepared. So when his reminder popped up on what was usually your final day, he walked in with a towel while you lounged in bed, but he was confused at your own confusion.

“Why do you have a towel?” you laughed.

“Babe,” he whined. It amused you to no end when the big bad Winter Soldier whined at you. “I’m horny.”

You laughed again as he tossed the towel onto the bed beside you and settled his weight between your legs.

“Okay? Why does that involve a towel?”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Aren’t you on your period?”

It only took one second for the realization to make your breath catch in your throat. It took one more second for Bucky’s entire body to grow tense.

“You’re on your period, right?” he asked. The urgency in his voice did nothing but stress you out more. You pulled your body out from under his and ran into your bathroom, rummaging through the drawers looking for an old test you were sure you had lying around somewhere. You had personally only ever taken one as a joke, but you knew Britt had panicked and taken more than a couple at your place before she got married.

“[Y/N].” Bucky’s voice behind you as you crouched on your bathroom floor made you pause your searching. “Talk to me,” he pressed.

You didn’t look at him as you spoke.

“I’m late.”

He let out a huff behind you but quickly crouched beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders because if he thought he was scared, he couldn’t imagine what you were feeling.

“Okay. We’ll go pick up a test and cross our fingers in the meantime,” he said quietly.

“How are we supposed to get a pregnancy test, James? Everyone knows who I am now,” you snapped.

You hated how easily you could tear up because you didn’t want to cry over your situation, but the stress hit you too quickly for any other reaction to kick in first.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you muttered quickly, pawing at your face to wipe away stray tears. “I’ll call Monique and have her pick one up.”

“Okay.” Bucky was treading lightly, you could tell. “Do you want to be alone or do you want me to stay with you?”

You bit your lip and took a deep, shaky breath to push more tears back.

“I think I want you to stay.”

Bucky let you sit between his legs while you called Monique.

“Hey, what’s up?” she answered almost immediately.

“I need you to come over,” you said, trying and failing to cover the panic in your voice.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” You could hear rustling in the background and knew she was already sliding on shoes to rush over.

“I kind of need you to pick something up for me.”

“Anything.”

“Um… I need you to grab a pregnancy test.”

“A preg—” she paused. “A… okay, yeah, I’ll pick that up and swing by soon.”

“Thanks, Momo,” you replied quietly, tossing out the nickname you gave her after you two rewatched Avatar: The Last Airbender a couple years prior.

“See you soon, love you,” she said as you heard the slam of her door.

“Love you.”

True to her word, Monique knocked on your front door less than 20 minutes later. Since Steve and Sam practically interrogated her just a couple days before, they didn’t hesitate to let her in. She proved she wasn’t one to just let them toss around unsubstantiated accusations.

“Hey booboo,” she cooed as she stepped into your room. “I grabbed three different brands just to be safe and threw in a bottle of sparkling grape juice and a bottle of champagne, depending on what results we get.”

You couldn’t help but finally laugh at the cross between a cringe and a smile on her face. You practically lunged off the bed to give her a hug. She held you a second longer than usual and started leading you to your bathroom. When Bucky started to follow, she turned sharply.

“Uh-uh. You stay put. You’re the whole reason this is happening.”

“Monique, it takes two,” you chuckled behind her.

“And he’s the one who ejaculated in you.” You scoffed and grabbed her arm to tug her into the bathroom with you.

“We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Bucky loved seeing how easily your best friend could immediately lift your spirits, but hated being sequestered in the bedroom.

The minutes ticked by even slower for you. Monique tried to keep you occupied as your phone and her phone counted down until the results would appear. One only took three minutes but the other two took five, so you anxiously stared at the three-minute test lying face-down on the sink until Monique’s phone beeped.

You breathed out an early sigh of relief at the test that read “NOT PREGNANT.”

“Two more,” Monique reminded you.

Those last two minutes felt even longer than the first three. But once your phone dinged, you and Monique each grabbed one of the two remaining tests. Judging by Monique’s squeal, you had the same results. You peeked over just to make sure and barreled through the bathroom door, startling Bucky as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Not pregnant!” you screamed in excitement.

You ran and tackled him, sending him onto his back on the bed.

“Do I need to remind you two what caused this in the first place?” Monique laughed behind you two.

All of your heads turned when your bedroom door swung open to reveal both Steve and Sam looking even more concerned than usual.

“Did you just say what I think you said?!” Steve asked.

“What do you think I said?” you asked, sitting up onto Bucky’s lap.

“We heard ‘I’m pregnant’!” Sam shouted.

“Not pregnant!” you clarified and held up the test you were still gripping. “No babies yet.”

“Yet?” Bucky parroted.

“Uh… yeah…?” you replied hesitantly.

It was something that seemed so far into the future for you two that you never discussed it, but you did want a kid or two someday. And judging by the scare you just had, it was something you should probably discuss soon, just in case.

But Bucky’s reaction pretty much answered your unspoken question. He moved a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you down for a forceful, heated kiss. He easily slid his tongue into your mouth and squeezed your ass — until Monique cleared her throat.

“You should probably use these next time,” she said as she tossed a box of condoms at you.

Bucky pulled away quick enough to catch the box before it hit you, but the rest of the room still laughed at your expense.

“You really like giving Stark a reason to kill you, don’t you?” Sam asked Bucky, who groaned out loud and collapsed back on the bed.

“I didn’t know!”

•

That night as you and Bucky were lying in bed — just a couple hours after your period finally started — you forced your nerves away and asked the big question.

“Hey, what were you feeling today? Before I took the tests, I mean.”

Bucky continued to stroke your arm, unfazed by the topic.

“Initially, fear. And then the more time passed, the more that fear turned into... excitement, I guess? I mean, I always wanted kids back in the day, but now I’m kind of worried, you know?”

“Why?” you prodded, propping yourself up on Bucky’s chest so you could look directly at him. He propped his head up with his hand to look back at you.

“Do I need to remind you that I was the deadliest assassin in the world 10 years ago?” he smirked.

“Well yeah, but not anymore!” you smiled back. “You’re my Bucky Bear now.”

“Mm, keep saying cute shit like that and I’ll actually get you pregnant next time.”

You giggled at this but shook your head.

“Monique got us condoms for a reason.”

“Do you want to use one now?” Bucky smirked.

“I gotta be totally honest,” you started slowly. You felt weird saying this but, “I don’t think I want to use them at all.” That cute little wrinkle popped up between Bucky’s eyebrows as he silently questioned your answer. “I just… I like feeling you.”

You swung a leg over his body to straddle him and pressed your body to his. Your lips attached to his neck before trailing up to his ear.

“I’m not against them if you want to use them,” you said softly. “But you should make that decision soon.”

He made up his mind real quick.

[faes-land]

Merry Christmas~ Minhyuk

Happy Holidays, everyone! It’s funny, I don’t really care for Christmas, but I got this cute little idea and went with it. Minhyuk is my second in MX and I just adore him. Also, who wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with Minhyuk? 

Pairings: Minhyuk X Female Reader

Genre: Fluffy fluff

Word count: 1,428

Warnings: None. :) 

----

Butterflies were flying in your stomach as you put on the finishing touches to your outfit. Even though you were just decorating your small apartment for Christmas with your boyfriend, you were still nervous. It was your first Christmas with Minhyuk, and you knew you’d be nervous, but you didn’t think you’d be this nervous. But even though you were nervous, you still couldn’t wait to spend Christmas with him. 

You had plans to meet up with some friends when the two of you were done decorating, so that’s why you were getting dressed up a little. You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled to yourself, you were so glad you bought this dress. You hoped that Minhyuk would like it on you. 

You and Minhyuk had been together for a few months now, and they’ve been some of the best few months of your life. Minhyuk was very kind, funny, and handsome. Every day with him had been so much fun and you could feel yourself falling hard for him. Your relationship with Minhyuk was so easy; he made you feel so comfortable and secure that you wished that you had started dating him sooner. All of your friends told you that he liked you, but you never believed them; until he finally asked you out, of course. 

Soon enough, you heard a knock on your door; the sound breaking you of your thoughts. Minhyuk was finally here and you were so excited to see him. You opened the door to see him with a small box in his hands full of Christmas decorations. There were lights, tinsel, and ornaments to put on the small tree you got for yourself. 

“Hey, Minhyuk.” You said as you let him in your cozy apartment. He placed the box down next to his feet before he took his shoes off. You closed the door behind him and he took you in for a hug. You giggled feeling his strong arms around you as you hugged him back. He still had his big winter coat on, so hugging him was a little difficult. 

He pulled away from your hug and he kissed you on the cheek before taking his coat off and hanging it on your coat rack. He looked you up and down and smiled. “You look beautiful, baby. I love that dress.” 

“Thank you.” You said as you grabbed the box full of decorations. “Let’s make my tree look pretty.” You heard him chuckle behind you as you started walking towards your small and cute tree. Your tree was still bare except for the little red ornament you found recently. You wanted to wait to put it up until you were with Minhyuk, but it was so cute you had to put it on your tree. 

As you went through all the decorations that Minhyuk had brought, you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the ornaments he picked out. There were the typical red, green, and white ones, but there were also ones that were shaped like food, dogs, cats, and even a pair of shoes. Your favorite was the little donut ornament since it reminded you of your first date with Minhyuk. You smiled to yourself remembering how your first date was in the summer, and all you wanted was ice cream, but the line was so long that you had gotten donuts instead. There were other fun ornaments that weren’t the typical type of ornament, so you looked to see where they would fit. 

“Did you find the star?” Minhyuk asked you as he put up a superhero ornament. 

You looked around and you didn’t see a star for the tree anywhere. Did he mean a topper or an ornament? You shook your head. “No, I don’t see a star, Minhyuk.” 

Minhyuk looked at you and smiled, “That’s because I’m looking at one right now.” Then he leaned over and kissed you. When you pulled away from the short kiss, you couldn’t help but laugh at the little joke Minhyuk made. As cheesy as it was, it was also very sweet. He tended to do silly jokes like that often and it caught you off guard every time. You thought you would be used to it by now, but they still make you laugh. 

As you and him went back to decorating your tree, you heard your phone ring. “Let me see who that is,” you mumbled to yourself as you went to go get your phone. You saw that it was your best friend so you answered. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey girl, I’m not sure if you and Minhyuk should come over anymore. Changkyun just got here and he said that the snowstorm is getting worse. I don’t think you guys should drive in these conditions.” As your friend was telling you about the weather, you looked outside your window. You could hardly see the outside as it was covered in white snow. As pretty as it was, it would be too dangerous to drive to your friend’s house. Not to mention how cold it would be too. “Is Minhyuk with you?” Your friend asked, breaking you of your thoughts. 

“Yeah, he got here a little while ago. It looks pretty bad out there, so I think he and I will stay at my place and keep warm. We can do Christmas when the snow isn’t so strong.” You offered. You were a little sad you couldn’t see your friends for Christmas, but you were also very happy to be spending it with Minhyuk. Secretly, you were hoping you could spend it alone with him. 

“That sounds great. Okay, I gotta let you go, Changkyun is starting to get annoying. Merry Christmas, Y/N! Love you!” Your best friend said before she hung up. You laughed as you put your phone away and went back to Minhyuk, who was almost done putting up all the ornaments on the tree. It looked so fun and cute the way you two decorated it. You quietly took a picture of Minhyuk and the tree when he wasn’t paying attention. You’ll be keeping that for later. 

As Minhyuk was decorating the tree, he noticed you come back to him. “Was that Y/F/N?” 

“Yeah, she said that the snowstorm is really bad and that it wouldn’t be safe for us to drive over there.” 

Minhyuk looked over at the window and he saw what the storm looked like. “Oh yeah, it’s pretty bad out there. It was freezing when I was on my way here.” He turned back to you and shrugged. “I’m happy though; I wanted to spend this day alone with you, anyway.” Then he gave you a soft kiss on your cheek before going back to the tree. 

You laughed as you watched your boyfriend decorate the tree, giggling to himself when he pulled out a particularly funny ornament. “We’re almost done!” You said when you noticed there were two red ornaments left. You picked up one and placed it next to the pretzel ornament. 

Minhyuk smiled to himself as he put up the last ornament and looked over the tree he had just decorated with you. “It looks good.” He said when he turned to smile at you. You felt your heart melt looking at his bright smile. Every time you saw him smile, you couldn’t help but smile back at him; his smile was contagious.

“I love it.” You said as you looked over the tree. The different ornaments made it so fun and cute; you were glad you let him pick out the decorations. 

“Y/N?” Minhyuk said.

“Hmm?” 

He turned you to face him and he looked into your eyes before giving you a soft kiss. “I love you,” He said when he pulled away. 

To say you were shocked at his words was an understatement. Minhyuk had never said that before and you weren’t sure what to do. Of course, you felt the same way as him, so why were you so shocked to hear him finally say it? “Min…I love you too.” 

He cupped your cheeks in his hands and smiled at you. “I’ve always loved you. Merry Christmas, Y/N.” And with those words, you spent the rest of your Christmas in Minhyuk’s arms. 

You and him watched movies, drank hot chocolate, and exchanged gifts. You couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas; you were so glad to spend it with Minhyuk and stay warm from the cold storm outside. Minhyuk was the best Christmas gift.

[riversofmars]

Interrupting my usual broadcast of DW fic to bring you another British gay mess: Please enjoy my first attempt at Caroline/Gillian! And as if I haven't got enough WIPs on, this is gonna be four parts, as it turns out! I don't know why I'm like this :D Anyway here we are due to popular demand!

Gillian takes Caroline up on her offer of moving in together and pooling their resources. A month has gone by and Caroline is surprised at how easy and comfortable life on the farm has become. The arrangement works for both of them: Gillian's financial struggles are a thing of the past and while it isn’t exactly the traditional family set-up Caroline would have wanted, Gillian turned out to be exactly what she needed in a partner to help raise her daughter. Adding romance to the otherwise perfect set-up is a pipe-dream on the headteacher's part, but the more time she spends with the sheep farmer, the more drawn she is to her. Rating: M (language & sexual themes)

Home Is Not A Place - Part 1: The Dinner

“For goodness sake,“ Caroline groaned, as she stepped out of her SUV and right into a puddle. Resigned to her changed situation, she decided from now on she would have to switch shoes after work, from her favourite heels, to a lesser loved pair. There was no two ways about it. But at least then there would be absolutely no danger of ruining a two-hundred pound pair of Jimmy Choos, upon her arrival at Greenwood farm. Of course she wouldn’t mention this to Gillian, God no, otherwise her Christmas present to her might end up a new pair of wellingtons.

In the open court yard of the farm, the wind was biting cold and encouraged the headteacher to hurry up the stairs to the relative safety and comfort of the house. Caroline cursed under her breath as the wind wreaked havoc with her hair, and the cold crept up her legs, underneath her woefully-inappropriate-for-farm-life pencil skirt. The British weather was really giving its all this year to live up to its reputation. Well in the grip of Winter already, it only took Caroline to stay late at work by an hour - like today - and night had already fallen. Preparations for this year’s Nativity were gathering steam and - being the hands-on headmistress she was - there was no way Caroline would allow the theatre department to shoulder the burden all on their own. Working late would usually have required a lot of planning for a single parent such as herself, but things had gotten a lot easier, recently.

“Hiya Caz,“ Gillian called from the lounge, when Caroline closed the front door of the farm house behind her and smiled at the chipper greeting.

“Hiya!“ She called back and pushed her soaked shoes into a corner. With any luck, Gillian wouldn’t spot them and she could deal with them later. The sheep farmer would only get suspicious if she lingered in the hallway for too long. “Evening,“ Caroline smiled as she stepped into the living room. Flora and Calamity were sitting on the sofa in front of the tv, dressed in pyjamas. She walked over to them, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s head and then, for good measure, repeated the gesture on Calamity. The girls were the closest of friends and since Caroline and Flora had moved in at the farm, they had become closer still - almost like real siblings - and Caroline had found herself treating them as such with increasing frequency.

“Wet out, is it?“ Gillian smirked, observing Caroline’s dishevelled head of hair, drawing her attention. The sheep farmer was leaning against the kitchen counter, mug in hand, assessing her over the rim of it.

“What’s this?“ Caroline raised her eyebrows, as she spotted two - and only two! - places set at the kitchen table, complete with wine glasses.

“Girls have eaten. Just having a bit of telly before bed,“ Gillian explained, nodding towards the pre-schoolers that were engrossed in their cartoons. “Lasagne is in oven, thought you might be hungry, with your long day n’all.“

“You made lasagne?“ Caroline asked, though it sounded more bewildered than she had intended. It wasn’t uncommon that Gillian would cook for all of them. She was the one at home, her work was here, it made sense. Caroline was a woman of science, of hard facts, so she liked things to make sense. But for some reason, coming home to Gillian Greenwood - who had cooked for her and looked after her daughter - was still something of curiosity, despite empirical evidence to the contrary. Caroline was still not quite used to it, no matter how much sense it made.

Caroline had managed to convince Gillian of the sense behind them pooling their resources not long after she had floated the idea for the first time. Her and Flora moved in at the farm a month ago, and much to everyone’s surprise - and her mother’s dismay - it worked surprisingly well. This was not the first time she had come home to a cooked meal, it was becoming a regular occurrence, so Caroline was at a loss as to why this time, it felt different. Perhaps it was the absence of Raff and Ellie who - as Caroline now remembered - had been invited to Ellie’s mother’s to parade around the little one. Perhaps it was because there were only two places set at the table. Or perhaps it was the warmth of Gillian’s chuckled as she replied:

“Well, had to make something.“

“You really didn’t have to, I don’t… expect to come home to a home cooked meal every day,“ Caroline felt obliged to state, just for the record, though she knew that Gillian would do whatever the bloody hell she wanted anyway. It wasn’t like Caroline - or anyone else for that matter - had any bearing on what this infuriatingly independent and bull-headed woman did or didn’t do.

“Nice though, innit,“ the sheep farmer shot back with surprising enthusiasm. “Guess that was part of the deal. Least I can do, mind the kids and cook you some tea.“ She gave a shrug like it was nothing; when to Caroline, it was a huge deal. This wasn’t something she would have admitted to, of course; just as she wouldn’t have admitted that there was something very appealing about coming home to Gillian.

“I’m not expecting you to pretend to be my stay-at-home housewife or something, Gillian,“ Caroline tried to brush it off with a joke.

“You better not. Cause that’s not me,“ Gillian retorted with good-natured humour, and it struck Caroline that she was a far cry from the tense, short-fused woman she’d met seven years ago. It was moments such as these, that the headteacher realised how much she had changed. Healing would be too strong a word for it; Caroline couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly heal from what Gillian had been through, but she seemed to be doing, better. She seemed more comfortable in her own skin, and more comfortable with her life. Secretly, Caroline hoped she had contributed to her wellbeing in some small way; even if it was just by giving her the security that she wouldn’t have to give up the farm.

“Don’t I know it,“ Caroline chuckled. “Wine, too, is it?“ She picked up the bottle on the table and checked the label. It was one of her favourites and for a moment, she wasn’t sure whether Gillian had remembered, or if they’d still had that bottle lying round somewhere. “Is there a special occasion? One month since we moved in?“ It wasn’t like she had been counting…well, she had. But only to be able to lord it over her mother about how long they had managed to stay under the same roof, without tearing each other’s heads off…or each other’s clothes…she added as an after thought. But only for her own amusement, not for public consumption.

“I guess I just…wanted to say thank you…for agreeing to this,“ Gillian huffed, suddenly appearing self-conscious, as if she wondered whether she had made a mistake. Caroline felt guilty immediately. For someone with self-esteem as fragile as Gillian, doubts came quickly, and cut deep.

“It was my idea! It’s to both of our advantage. I couldn’t have carried on the way it was, particularly now that our parents aren’t…able…to help as much as before…“ Caroline was quick to assure her. It had made a lot of sense, and she was glad she had managed to persuade Gillian of the proposal’s merit. Even once their parents had volunteered the money to pay for the work on the roof, it didn’t change the fact that Gillian was barely breaking even financially. Certainly not with the sheep that had escaped a few months ago, and once Raff and Ellie moved out - which was only a matter of time - they wouldn’t be contributing anymore, either. Gillian needed someone with her, and Caroline was more than happy to be that person, for numerous reasons. Some of them she cared to discuss, like the practicalities of it, some she would keep to herself, thank you very much.

“Just wanted to say, I do appreciate it, Caz,“ Gillian interrupted and held her hands up, as if she just had to get that out there - and would shut up now that it was said. “And I hope you’re not gonna regret it.“

“Gillian, we’ve known each other seven years now,“ Caroline couldn’t help but point out, as she set the bottle of wine back down on the table. “Yes, we’ve had our ups and downs, but all things considered, I think we’re about as steady as our parents, don’t you think?“ She gave her a soft smile. They really had come an incredibly far way since they first laid eyes on each other. To this day, Caroline was still embarrassed about her behaviour on the day they’s met, and was beyond relieved that with time, Gillian had come to see the funny side of the whole thing.

“Suppose so. Just without the sex,“ Gillian snickered and took a sip of her tea, hiding her grin in her mug as she seemed to relax again.

“I don’t want to think about our parents having sex, thank you very much!“ Caroline exclaimed, mortified, and quickly turned to check the girls hadn’t accidentally overheard. To her relief, she found them still very much engrossed in their tv show.

“God no. I don’t know if they still can, I mean, at their age…“ Gillian huffed, matter-of-factly. “And with his heart too, better mind his blood pressure hadn’t he… Mind you, probably wouldn’t be worst way t’go. Right in throes of…“

“Yes, right. That’s it, change of subject please!“ Caroline shook her head vehemently and Gillian laughed.

“Go and get changed, didn’t mean to ambush you, it’ll keep.“ She gestured to the oven. “I’ll get little ones in bed.“

“If you’re sure.“ Caroline glanced at the clock. She hadn’t realised how late it was. “How about bath time?“

“All this fun stuff you miss out on when you work late. It’s done and dusted. Go on. You don’t wanna be throwing lasagne down that fancy blouse o’ yours,“ Gillian observed, nodding towards her cream blouse.

“Right.“ Caroline gave a soft smile and watched the sheep farmer gulp down the rest of her tea, before sitting it down in the sink.

“You want me to make you a cuppa first?“ Gillian asked, seemingly confused as to why Caroline hadn’t taken her up on the offer yet, instead lingering in the kitchen.

“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll have wine if that’s going,“ Caroline answered quickly, snapping out of her moment of marvelling at how bloody perfect life was right about now to retrieve the corkscrew.

“Well, you know where everything is by now, don’t you. It’s your home too,“ Gillian observed, with an ease that astounded Caroline, that Gillian didn’t seem to think anything of. She just headed to the sofa where she put an arm around each of the girls from behind. “Right you two monsters, show’s over, off to bed wi’ you,“ she announced, leaving Caroline to forget all about the wine. She just watched the display of perfect family life in awe.

——

“Is it bad that I’m sort of looking forward to Raff and Ellie moving out?“ Caroline mused, watching Gillian’s reaction over the rim of her wine glass. “With the baby and everything, the walls aren’t exactly thick.“

“You knew that before moving in,“ Gillian pointed out. She wasn’t unkind about it, she was amused if nothing else.

“Yes, and I’m not complaining. I just didn’t think I’d be doing this still, at gone fifty, I mean…I’m just glad Flora is through the worst of it now.“ Even now, there were still times where Caroline wondered whether she was too old for all this. She had two grown up sons, starting again with Flora and doing it all on her own had been tough. Thankfully, finally, she wasn’t alone anymore. It wasn’t exactly the traditional family set-up she would have longed for, but she knew Gillian would be everything Flora needed in a second parent. She could also be everything Caroline needed in a partner, but that was just wishful thinking on the headteacher’s part. She would content herself with the way things were, as it was shaping up to be everything she wanted, just sadly minus the romance.

“Nowt saying William or Lawrence couldn’t have started early,“ Gillian retorted and Caroline laughed:

“William? Please!“ They were on their third glass of red and Caroline was feeling warm and relaxed. Her reactions had lost the restraint and reservedness she usually maintained with people, even the ones closest to her. “And Lawrence needs to seriously work out whatever he is doing with his life. And with Angus!“ She had often wondered about his relationship with his best friend. At this point, things could go either way.

“Fair. Not much of a chance of getting knocked up there,“ Gillian chuckled.

“Raff’s done alright though, hasn’t he. Becoming a dad so young and still seeing through his education and getting a good job at the end of it, it’s quite the accomplishment,“ Caroline smiled and delighted in the way Gillian’s face brightened with pride.

“He’s a good boy, our Raff,“ she commented, and Caroline was determined to push the matter over the finish line:

“That’s a credit to you. He couldn’t have done it without your support,“ she added kindly, as she put her cutlery down. Dinner had been a delight, but then by this point, Gillian could have probably fed her anything and she would have thanked her with a dreamy eyed smile. Caroline felt the warmth radiating from her cheeks; a combination of wine, the fire going in the adjoining room, and her own conflicted feelings towards her step sister. For the sake of her own sanity, she refused to refer to her as that whenever possible, particularly in her own head.

“More like in spite of me,“ Gillian huffed, her mood swinging like a pendulum. She had been much more steady in recent years, but that wasn’t to say she was free of the crippling self-doubt that always chose the most inopportune moments to rear its ugly head. “Never would’ve happened wi’ someone else. Not like your boys went and knocked up their girlfriend, is it.“

“Don’t be ridiculous,“ Caroline cut in quickly, but Gillian just downed the rest of her wine and carried on:

“You know it’s true, ‘as bad as his mother’ is what they were saying, and if they weren’t, they were thinking it.“ She gave a bitter laugh that stood in stark contrast to the carefree atmosphere they had enjoyed.

“You have many flaws, Gillian, it’s part of your charm, but being a bad mother? That’s certainly not one of them.“ Caroline was quick and decisive, in intervening. There had been times where she had been quite happy to shoot a snide comment her way herself, but not anymore.

“Hm.“ Gillian’s response was minimal, which indicated to Caroline that she hadn’t listened or taken in what she’d said.

“It’s not!“ She insisted firmly.

“Alright!“ Gillian exclaimed, exasperated.

“Do you think I’d have come here, to live with you, having you help look after my daughter, if I didn’t think you were a good mother and a good person?“ Caroline leaned forward onto her elbows, regarding the farmer with a stern look that she had perfected in many years of teaching.

“’suppose not.“ Gillian folded, just as one of Caroline’s six-formers would have done.

“Well then.“ The headteacher straightened herself up again and proceeded to divide the rest of the bottle in between their two glasses.

“Their faces. When you told them.“ Gillian suddenly burst out laughing and Caroline grinned, recalling the conversation in vivid detail. The pendulum that was Gillian’s emotional well-being, had swung back around.

“Of all the stupid, stupid videos Lawrence has done… that would have been the moment to capture,“ she shook her head to herself, remembering how comical and surreal the whole thing had been.

“It was your Mum more than me Dad, that face she pulled!“ Gillian couldn’t stop laughing; it was infectious and prompted Caroline to launch into a scarily accurate imitation of her mother:

“Caroline, you can’t really be considering moving to a farm, and HER farm of all places. Is that any way for Flora to grow up? What if she…catches something or…“ Caroline could hardly breathe for laughing. “Honestly Mum, what is she gonna catch? Fresh air?“

“Touch of the common farmer, more like,“ Gillian grimaced, but she didn’t seem to care, not really.

“Like she’s never stayed here herself.“ Caroline rolled her eyes at the hypocrisy.

“I think she was more concerned with me, than the farm,“ Gillian pointed out, taking a deep breath to calm herself down - but her face continued cracking up and gave her away.

“Well obviously.“ Caroline just waved it off. They were both used to her mother’s strong opinions, and readily chose to ignore them.

“What will you be doing with Gillian around all the time?“ Gillian tried herself at Celia’s accent which caused Caroline to launch into another laughing fit.

“I don’t know, Mum, maybe we will have a wild sapphic love affair,“ she reprised her witty response with tears of laughter in her eyes.

“You nearly gave her a heart attack an’all,“ Gillian snickered.

“Well, it’s none of her business.“ Caroline took a deep breath, regaining some small measure of self control. “And really, she only has herself to blame. If she hadn’t been on at your Dad about lending you that money, and then telling me they wouldn’t be picking up Flora anymore, none of this would have happened.“

“So really, we should be thanking her, shouldn’t we.“ Gillian grinned after brief contemplation. “To your mother.“ She raised her glass and Caroline toasted her:

“I’ll drink to that.“

The evening wore on, and just as they contemplated opening a third bottle, Raff and Ellie returned with the baby, who was sleeping soundly in his car seat. Thank God for small favours, Caroline thought. They had cleared up from dinner and were lounging on the sofa with the telly on.

“Mum. Caz. Alright?“ Raff greeted them.

“Had a good evening?“ Gillian asked, looking around.

“Yeah great thanks,“ Ellie smiled in response and made her way up the stairs with the little one.

“You watching University Challenge, Mum?“ Raff asked, bemused, as he noticed the program they were watching.

“Through no fault of my own!“ Gillian was quick to point out. She shot Caroline a look who was sitting to the other end of the sofa.

Caroline considered it a safe distance, but not as safe as the other sofa would have been. It was one small thing she allowed herself. It was innocent enough, and Gillian didn’t seem to think twice when their legs intertwined on the two-seater.

The sheep farmer carried on explaining their television agreement to her son: “We compromise, see, she gets to watch something she wants and then I get to watch something I want.“

“Trust her to chose the most obnoxious thing she can possibly find, just to wind me up,“ Caroline interjected but without averting her eyes from the screen. She mumbled the answer to yet another obscure question under her breath.

“Sounds about right,“ Raff chuckled and Gillian leaned over the back of the sofa to slap her son’s arm.

“Remember, it’s a school night,“ she pointed her finger at him.

“Bit rich coming from you.“ He eyed their empty wine glasses. “I feel like the alcohol consume in this house has sky rocketed in the past month.“

“Yeah, well, got to knock ourselves out somehow between the baby crying and you two going at it,“ Gillian quipped, and returned her attention to the television as well.

“You’re just jealous cause you haven’t go a fella right now,“ Raff teased.

“Yeah well, I’m over that for the time being,“ Gillian gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Think you’ve finally gone through all the eligible bachelors in West Yorkshire?“ Caroline saw an opportunity to jump in and tried her best to keep the smallest twang of jealousy from her voice.

“And some of the ineligible ones too,“ Raff added, with a smirk.

“OI!“ Gillian exclaimed, shooting him a glare and kicked Caroline’s leg for siding with him.

“I’d better see if Ellie needs some help…“ Raff was quick to make his escape.

“Yeah, you’d better,“ his mother shouted after him.

“I have to say, you have come a long way since we met. From having three blokes you’re shagging staying over in this place,“ Caroline couldn’t help but comment, recalling the fateful night their parents had gone missing and they had stayed at the farm with Gillian’s three merry men - Paul, John and Robbie - all crammed onto these sofas.

“Bet you wouldn’t have come to stay then, would’ya,“ Gillian hummed, her voice surprisingly neutral.

“Could have joined that exclusive club,“ Caroline smirked, the alcohol loosening her tongue enough to make a joke, one too close to the truth for comfort. She forced herself not to think about what else she could be doing with her tongue right about now.

“Caz!“ Gillian exclaimed, and the headteacher couldn’t quite tell whether she was offended, self-conscious or flattered.

“It really is easy to tease you,“ Caroline back-peddled to safer waters.

“Yeah well, you’re living with Yorkshire’s greatest slapper so jokes on you,“ Gillian huffed. “Watch your f-bloody University Challenge.“

“Hm, yes, what will people think,“ Caroline chuckled and did as she was told.

[kisskeiji]

7. Lottery.

Lost & Found.

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and smoking, like one mention of sex (i think) and atsumu being sentimental. 

  Winter was your favorite season. You would always stay in for the holidays and spend the winter break at home. Iwaizumi never understood why you enjoyed sleeping with nothing but your underwear  and a pair of fuzzy socks if you were going to sleep with three covers anyway, you loved the cold and everything that came with it. Your wardrobe was always full of sweaters and coats and your shared apartment was carefully decorated with things you collected over the years. 

Now they remained in the box where you left them the last christmas you spent with him, untouched, since he wasn’t one to celebrate especially now that he is spending the season by himself, refusing to go home with Hanamaki. He still missed you and he tried to do everything he could to get you out of his mind, he even worked on Christmas day but couldn’t stop thinking about you and how you would be wandering around the kitchen cooking dinner for your friends, but he ruined it. You weren’t with him and it was all his fault and he hated it. 

There was no one else to blame, but his pride and jealousy tried to blame you too, convincing himself it was your fault too for running away, for not facing him, for moving on before him. Ever since he called you that night and another guy answered the phone his chest tightened to the thought of you with another man. His friends tried to set him up with several women but he never caved in, he didn’t wanted to give himself another chance, he wanted you, and if he couldn’t have you then there was no other person for him, you were the one, and he knew that since you started dating but he gave in to his selfish needs. 

It was New Year’s Eve and his boss urged him to take a break. He had no other plans, he called his parents and texted his best friends wishing them a happy New Year because he was going to sleep early that night. Someone knocked on the door when he was on his way to the shower. Hanamaki and Matsukawa greeted him when he opened the door.

“At least act like you are glad to see us.” Matsukawa said.

“I thought you guys were in Miyagi.” 

“Yeah, but we knew you were going to mope around all day so we came to see you.” Hanamaki sat on the couch.

“Iwaizumi-san!” Kindaichi entered the apartment along with Kunimi and Watari. 

“You guys too?” He asked, hugging all of them, his mood slowly getting better.

“Yahaba and Kyotani are coming too.” Watari informed him before walking to the kitchen to drop the bags of takeout they all brought. “We thought a team reunion would pick you up.” 

“You didn’t have to, guys.” Iwaizumi took his laptop and a few papers that were on the coffee table to make some room. 

“But you need it.” Kunimi said with evident concern. Iwaizumi’s expression softened and his eyes watered, still wishing you were there but certainly not alone anymore, his friends still cared for him. 

“Don’t tell me you are crying!” Matsukawa teased him with an arm around his shoulders. 

“Of course not, you idiot, I’m just happy you are all here.” Everyone laughed at him, the ever so indifferent Iwaizumi almost crying was a rare sight, but warmth ran through everyone’s veins in that moment. 

Just like Watari promised, Yahaba and Kyotani joined shortly after, with tons of beer and baked goods Kyotani cooked for everyone. Hours passed, sharing laughs and reminiscing their high school days, the alcohol started to get the best of them, even Kunimi was cracking jokes every now and then, a few cigarette ends scattered around the table and empty plates piled on the sink. Iwaizumi laid back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, longing for something. 

“Makki told me you tried to call her.” Matsukawa said casually, lighting another cigarette. Iwaizumi sighed and looked at him inhale the smoke.

“I did, but we didn’t talk.” Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. “A guy picked up the phone and I hung up.”  Iwaizumi heard a ‘tsk’ from Matsukawa.

“That’s tough. But she has never mentioned anything about dating when we talk, maybe it was just a friend.” Issei reasoned and Iwaizumi nodded, still unsure.

“Have you seen her recently?” Iwaizumi asked. 

 “We went out the last time she went to Miyagi a few weeks ago. My girl loves her.” Matsukawa took out his phone from the back of his pocket and tapped the screen a few times before showing a picture of his girlfriend and you at some bar, smiling brightly at the camera, cheeks flushed and drinks on the table. Iwaizumi smiled to himself, you looked beautiful yet different, a different kind of light shined in your eyes. “She’s doing great.” 

“I miss her.” Words weren’t enough to describe how much he was hurting.

“I know, but you need to get over her, she already figured things out, you can’t hold to the past any longer. What you did was dick move, but give yourself a chance, you don’t have to date right now but try to get yourself out there, have fun and please get some. I’m begging you.” The last comment earned him a smack on the back of his head from Iwaizumi. 

“How do you know I’m not getting any? You don’t live here anymore.” Iwaizumi questioned. 

“Because Makki won’t stop bitching about your attitude.” Matsukawa explained and brought the cigarette back to his lips and laughed at Iwaizumi’s frown, exhaling the smoke in the opposite direction of his friends. “It’s almost midnight.” He announced. 

“Yeah you are right.” Iwaizumi looked back at the rest of the guys currently crowding his living room, smiling to himself once again. “Thanks.” He paused and looked at the former middle blocker. “For this, I mean, I really needed it.”

“Always.” Matsukawa gave him a pat on his shoulder and smiled, he still had hope for Iwaizumi and he wished nothing but the best for his friend, even if you were not together anymore, both of you deserved to be happy. 

*

Meanwhile in some five star hotel in Tokyo, you struggled to check-in, with a small suitcase and a dress bag hanging on your shoulder, you tried to make the receptionist understand you were part of the required staff for the night and not a reporter trying to get in, but you forgot your team ID. Hideko was nowhere to be seen and none of your higher ups were staying at the same hotel. You were screwed until someone could prove you were in fact working that night and you were losing precious time to get ready, you had less than 6 hours before the party started. 

“Is there a problem?” You heard someone ask from behind you. Meian and his girlfriend walked to the counter and the receptionist’s attitude changed instantly, he explained the situation politely to the two of them while sparing you a nasty side eye when they referred to you. 

“Meian-senshu, please tell them I work with you, they won’t let me check-in and I forgot my ID. My name is on the reservation but they refuse to give me my room.” You pleaded, your dress bag feeling heavier with every minute. 

“Y/N does work with the Black Jackals, I assume you know who I am, please let her in, she’s coming to the party too.” He pointed at the access pass on your wrist. 

“I’m really sorry, ma’am, I will register you right now.” The receptionist typed quickly and gave you the room key. Sighing heavily you thanked Meian for his help as he checked-in himself. His girlfriend started a small chat with you about what you would wear tonight, she was really excited to wear her gown and complemented yours.

“You are going to break hearts tonight, Y/N!” She teased. 

“Well if your dress is how I imagine it is then Meian-senshu is taking two awards tonight.” 

“You are not wrong.” Meian added, sneaking his arm around her waist and passed her the key. “Eleventh floor.” He said as she held the card. “Atsumu isn’t here yet?” He asked and you shrugged. 

“I don’t know, I’ve been here for a good thirty minutes and I didn’t see him come in.” You explained. “Bokuto is not here either.” Meian hummed.

“I’ll give them a call before we go up to our room, they are always late to these things.” 

“They are always late.” You corrected him and he laughed. “See you at the party.” You said before making your way to the elevator, wanting nothing but to get to your room and take a shower. 

Your room was rather big, but definitely not a suite, there were two beds, a desk and a closet right beside the bathroom door, and you had a really nice view of the city. Once you hung up your dress you walked to the window and stared at the city, the sunset claiming the sky and the city lights started to shine brighter. You missed Tokyo. Is not like Osaka was boring or anything, but Tokyo brought memories from your first days of college and all the friends you left behind. Sighing, you turned back and opened your suitcase to get the things you needed to shower and get ready.  

You styled your hair right after showering and did your makeup heavier than usual, you needed to be ready at least two hours before the actual party to have a small meeting with Hideko and the other teams management and make it in time for the red carpet. Struggling to zip your dress by yourself and accepting that you got half a size too small with your shoes again, you were at the door adjusting your earpiece, holding your clutch bag under your arm just in time to meet Hideko and the Jackals assistant coach in the elevator. “The red carpet shouldn’t take long, I’m trying to call everyone so they can get in at once, Y/N I’ll leave them to you.” Hideko ran you through. “Two minutes on the mark, two or three questions and done, you get in once they are all set.” 

“Got it.” You assured her.

“Great.” She sighed in relief. “There’s an after party tomorrow, the big boss wants to have brunch with everyone.” She emphasized the word ‘brunch’ to make it sound fancier and she rolled her eyes. “It is mandatory.” She said before you could ask. 

“I’ll be there then.” The door opened and you stepped out to meet a few people that told you the same thing Hideko said earlier, you talked to some acquaintances from other teams that were told to manage the red carpet along with you. 

“I’m going to strangle them, every single one of those volleyball players.” Hideko gripped her phone in her hands and you laughed. “They are all going to be late.” She massaged her temples and stomped her heels loudly, you could tell her stress was getting the best out of her. “Can you call Atsumu? I’m sure he’ll pick up if he sees it is you.” You complied to her request and dialed Atsumu’s number and turned the speaker on. After three rings he greeted you. 

“Hey, beautiful.” Your cheeks turned pink at the nickname.

“You can flirt later, Romeo, now tell me why you won’t pick up your damn phone.” She gritted her teeth and you cringed. She walked away with your phone as she gave Atsumu instructions to gather all of his teammates and meet her at the lobby. She gave you back your phone and practically ran to the lobby to wait for them. You decided to kill time talking to some people from the event management. After twenty minutes or so, the reporters and paparazzis were lined up in front of the step and repeat and you heard Hideko calling you from your earpiece. ‘They are ready, we go first. I’ll send them one by one, remember, they go first and then their plus one.’ 

You got yourself in position to receive the players, Inunaki was the first to walk in, you smiled at him and walked right behind him, setting him on the mark and stepping aside to let the photographers do their job. Repeating the same process with everyone from the team and their partners, you were ready to set the last three players, Atsumu, Bokuto and Sakusa. 

“You look so good, Y/N!” Bokuto exclaimed when he saw you, Akaashi trailing behind. 

“You two look amazing too!” You checked their outfits up and down. Both of them had tuxedos, Bokuto wore a dark grey suit that matched his hair and Akaashi a classic jet black, hair slicked back and their colognes mixed if you were standing too close.

“Akaashi helped me with my tie.” He said proudly and looked at his boyfriend who smiled back at him. 

“Are you alright?” Akaashi asked. 

“I must look rough, huh?” You chuckled and he rolled his eyes. “My shoes are killing me and I walked on this carpet twenty times already, I don’t think I’ll make it to the end of the night.” You held Bokuto’s bicep. “You ready?” You asked and they both nodded and you guided them to the marks on the step and repeat, Bokuto answered all of the questions cheerfully, excited for his nominations. Once he was done and you were at the entrance, Akaashi tapped your shoulder and made you look back. 

You saw Atsumu talking with Sakusa, their tall figures standing out from the crowd of distressed staff surrounding them, you made sure Bokuto and Akaashi were in before walking to them. Atsumu noticed you coming up to him and shamelessly checked you out —you weren’t that subtle either— smiling brightly once you were in front of him. “Who wants to go first?” You asked. 

“I’ll do it, I want to get over with this as soon as possible.” Kiyoomi huffed, taking his mask off and throwing it in the nearest trash can. “Let's go.” As always you walked him to the mark and waited for him to answer a few questions. Kiyoomi was a great actor, his stance and expression changed as soon as he faced the interviewers, answering calmly and politely. Atsumu was laughing his ass off, knowing that his friend was most likely planning how to get away from the ceremony, maybe faking a headache or even a fainting. You signaled Atsumu to start walking as Sakusa said his goodbyes to the press, you stepped back when Atsumu made it to the white cross mark on the floor and announced you were done with the red carpet on your radio. 

All of the reporters called for Atsumu, yelling questions and complimenting him, he smiled lazily with his hands in his pockets. 

“No plus one tonight, Miya?”  Atsumu laughed at the question.

“My mom was busy” A few of them laughed with him, but it was barely noticeable, the sounds of clicks and flashes from the cameras filled the area. 

“A young man like you showing alone at these events is hard to believe, you sure you don’t have a special someone, Miya-senshu?” 

Atsumu looked at you for less than a second and you saw clearly how his smile widened. “Maybe next time, guys.” He said, looking at you once again waiting for his queue to go, you nodded and he made his way to the main entrance, you following behind. “You look stunning, by the way.” He said as he walked past you when you held the door open for him to get in, you stared at his back until he was out of sight. Hideko dismissed you after that, so you could enjoy the party with the rest of the staff, she promised to join you later to have a drink because according to her, you deserved it. 

The rest of the teams invited to the ceremony were still coming in, but the salon was already filled with people, from sponsors to team owners, and some volleyball legends you recognized from the countless rambles Bokuto and Atsumu absorbed you in. It was different, it felt different, it wasn’t until that moment you realized the turn your career took after joining the team, it was crazy to think that you were part of this world now. A few taps on your shoulder were enough to snap you back to reality, Aran and Hana greeted you warmly and they looked amazing with Aran’s tie matching Hana’s red dress. “I think I’ll never get used to this.” She said and you agreed. Aran got abducted by some other players and you were left alone with her, the bar was conveniently close to you, so you opted to get something to drink to start the night. “Where’s Atsumu?” She asked. 

“I have no idea, he walked in and I lost him, maybe with the rest of the team” You pointed to a table near the center where most of the team members sat, waiting for the ceremony to start. He was indeed sitting with coach Foster and Barnes, laughing fondly and having their first glass of wine. You smiled to yourself in satisfaction, everything was going well, and hopefully everyone would take an award home. 

“That man over there is totally checking you out.” Hana said and you turned your head back to see her. “To your left.” As soon as you looked where she told you, you felt your soul leave your body and come back right after. 

“I’ll be back in a second.” You announced and walked towards the man that was ‘totally checking you out’. “Don’t you know staring is rude?” 

“Oh shut up, I couldn’t recognize you from here.” He defended himself. “I forgot my glasses at home.” You hugged him.

“You’ll  never learn.” Giggling he nudged your shoulder and stepped back to have a better view of your face. “My friend thought you were checking me out.” 

“Come on, I have higher standards.” He teased. “Where 's Bokuto? He said to meet him here earlier.” 

“He’s with the team, over there.” You pointed with your head and he hummed when he saw the grey haired man standing next to his boyfriend, talking with people you didn’t knew. You caught a glance of his smirk before he said:

“Does everyone here greet you with death stares or is it only that guy walking over here?”  Kuroo asked. You turned your head back to see Atsumu approaching you, pushing past all the people that tried to intersect him on his way to you. 

“Hey, uh, Hideko is looking for you.” He lied, you looked at him weird, you were pretty sure that Hideko was busy talking with the event management. 

“That’s weird, she would’ve rang me if she needed me.” You said showing your radio. Picking up on his jealousy tantrum by the way he was standing protectively in front of you, you grabbed his arm and pushed him to the side and made him turn around. “Kuroo, this is Miya Atsumu. Tsumu, this is my best friend Kuroo, the one I talked you about before.” Atsumu’s frown softened a bit but he was still suspicious — and jealous— about Kuroo and his smug grin. 

“Kuroo Tetsuro, I work with the institution.” He extended his hand and Atsumu did the same. 

“When you say it like that you almost sound important.” You mocked.

“That’s because I am important, baby.” Kuroo said, knowing exactly what he was doing by using that pet name. “Now, I’ll leave you both to it, I need to talk with Bokuto.” He excused himself and you were left alone with Atsumu, with your hand still on his arm, you walked him to the bar  where Hana waited for you.

“What was that about?” You asked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I saw a suspicious man near you and I thought you needed help.” He shrugged. 

“Yeah, right, there’s nothing suspicious about Kuroo, he’s an idiot, don’t mind him.” You reassured him. “That was my best friend, not a man checking me out.” You said to Hana when you made it back to her side.

“He looks like a pervert.” Hana admitted. 

“See? I’m not the only one who thought there was something wrong with him.” Atsumu looked at you with wide eyes. The lights dimmed and the last call before the ceremony started was heard. “This is going to start soon, let’s take our seats.” You accompanied Hana to the Red Falcons table and then headed to your team’s seats with Atsumu’s hand in yours at all times, unbuttoning his jacket he sat right beside you.

“Are you nervous?” You asked him. 

“Not in the slightest.” He lied to you for the second time that night. He was terrified, he didn’t wanted to lose the award, especially in front of you.  

“I hope you prepared an acceptance speech.”  He sighed soundly and squeezed your hand.��

“No need, Tobio-kun is here, that award is his.” He sounded defeated, it was your turn to give his hand a squeeze. While you knew many sides of Atsumu he didn’t show often, you weren’t familiar with his pessimist persona, it was a sight you didn’t like at all, defeat wasn’t a good look on him. 

“Stop that, award or not, you are still one of the best setters in the country and no one can change that.” He let go of your hand to call the waiter to get you whatever you wanted to drink, whining for your long forgotten gimlet you left behind when you were talking to Kuroo, you asked for water. “You made me waste a drink.”

“I didn’t do anything, you are the forgetful one here.”  Your banter was cut short by Adriah’s voice, the ceremony started without the two of you noticing. 

“It’s an honor to be hosting the twenty-seventeen Volleyball Association Awards. Tonight the best players of all three divisions will be rewarded for their performance during the last two seasons. How are you feeling tonight, Komori?” Adriah looked at the EJP Raijin’s Libero. 

“Thank you for that introduction, Adriah, and I’m really excited to see who will win in each category, and speaking of, our categories for tonight are: coach, setter, middle blocker, wing spiker and libero of the year; best captain, and best new comer.” A screen behind both hosts showed the nominations at the same time Komori listed them. 

“Both men's and women’s leagues will be presented by our wonderful co-hosts, let’s get started with our first nomination, we leave you with Tsukasa Iizuna from the Deseo Hornets.” Adriah and Komori walked out the stage after shaking hands with Iizuna. He introduced the nominees for wing spiker of the year.   

After an hour or so, Inunaki was the only one in the team with an award, sadly Meian lost to Fukuro Hirugami and Suna won best newcomer over Bokuto and Sakusa. “Presenting the setter of the year nominees, Kanoka Amanai, wing spiker of the women’s National Volleyball Team for the 2016 olympics and the Hisamitsu Springs.” Komori introduced a tall girl in a beautiful yellow dress, she smiled nervously and held the envelope with the winner tightly. 

“A lot of people often think that us spikers do all the job at scoring points, but the truth is, that setters are the ones that rule the court from both sides, we wouldn’t be anything without our setters. That’s why I’m honored to present to you the nominees for the setter of the year award.” The screen in the back showed pictures and the names from each nominee, Atsumu’s name right beside Kageyama’s. 

“And the winner is…” Kanoka said, opening the envelope. “Miya Atsumu, from the MSBY Black Jackals.” She read after a few seconds and everyone cheered. Atsumu looked at you with wide eyes and hugged you instinctively. The rest of the team practically dragged him out of his seat to receive his award. He almost tripped trying to hug Aran on his way to the stage but he made it eventually. He took the golden statue in one hand and stood in front of the microphone with his mouth agape and laughing nervously. 

“Wow.” He said, now wishing he prepared an acceptance speech. “This is unbelievable, really. I didn’t expect to win something like this in my first year playing professionally.” He looked at the statue and then back to the crowd. “ Sometimes I push myself too hard for the sake of my team and the weight of losing is always devastating, especially playing this position, but I’m thankful to everyone. My teammates, coach Foster and our management for trusting me and pushing me to do my best. I also want to thank my friends and my brother, who is not here tonight, but he was the best spiker I’ve ever had and the one that trained with me everyday since we were kids, I know he is going to see this, so, thank you ‘Samu, I wouldn’t be here without you.”  He was talking really fast and barely breathing. “This means a lot to me, thank you so much.” He finished and the crowd cheered for him, your table was the loudest of them all. 

He walked back to his seat where everyone waited to congratulate him but he went straight to you and hugged you again, tighter this time. “I told you that you were going to win. I’m so proud of you.” You said before breaking the hug. 

“Thank you.” His eyes were watery and his lip quivered. You made him turn to celebrate with his teammates before he cried and everyone gave him aggressive pats on his back and teased him for being so cheesy. He was happy. So happy he couldn’t stop smiling even when the ceremony ended. 

The party went on smoothly but it was quite boring, everyone wandered around the room talking and congratulating the winners, you grew tired of following Hideko around, big parties weren’t your thing if you were honest. You excused yourself and found your way to a huge balcony that worked as an outdoor smoking lounge. The cold air against your skin made you regret your decisions but it was too late to back down. You placed your hands on the railing and tried to get used to the freezing weather, looking down, you saw a restaurant across the street, the customers wore hats and drank happily celebrating the new year. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. After your realization you checked the hour. 

11:47 P.M.

“What are you doing here?”  Atsumu asked and closed the door behind him. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

“I needed some air.” You stated. 

“Aren’t you cold?” You felt his breath on your ear and smiled. 

“Not really.” You said turning around. He knew you were lying.“Why are you here? You should be celebrating.” You fixed his tie as you spoke, your eyes met his. Taking a better look of his face you smiled to yourself. Atsumu was stunning. Sure he looked good everyday but tonight it was different, it was maybe the tuxedo  or the victorious smile gracing his face, he was the definition of beauty, in its purest form; happiness. 

“Got bored, and I wanted to ask you something.” He explained and placed his hands on their usual spot on your hips. 

“Oh god, please tell me you are not asking me out on New Year’s Eve.” you hooked your arms around his neck and played with the back of his hair. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, now shut up and let me make this special.” He tried to bring you closer to him and looked at the moon for a second. “I know it has been hard for you to give yourself another chance to live your life like you want to, and you don’t know how thankful I am for being a part of it. I also know your last boyfriend was an asshole and hurted you beyond repair” 

“Well that’s a way to put it.” You interrupted him and laughed.

“Let me finish.” He laughed along with you. “I promise you, I will treat you so much better if you let me. I know maybe I’m not what you are looking for but you are all I want.”  He was sincere, you could tell by the way his eyes pierced into you, eagerly waiting for you to say something. 

“I don’t know where you got that from, but you are wrong, ‘Tsumu. You are all I want too.” You looked at him with the same intensity but you had tears in your eyes. He didn’t waste another second and kissed you. It was long, and passionate, and loving. He wanted to tell you everything he couldn’t with that kiss. 

He was yours. 

“Now I’m the real winner tonight.” He joked when he pulled apart. 

“Shut up.” You kissed him again before he could say something stupid. 

“Are we interrupting something?” Aran and Suna peaked from the door. “Get in before the countdown starts.” Suna ordered without waiting for an answer, you did as he said, walking hand in hand with Atsumu, something that wasn’t strange for you but this time it was different, because he was yours. 

You had to walk faster to stand with your friends and some team members and the countdown started. Ten. Everyone chanted excitedly to receive the new year. 

Nine, eight, seven, six.

“Ready?” Atsumu asked, staring at you lovingly. 

Five

“I am. But what if I don’t want this to end?” 

Four

“Too late for that, babe, let’s make the most out of this year too.” He kissed the back of your hand and giggled. “Let’s ditch this party first.”

Three

“Please.” You agreed and looked around to spot your friends standing near you with glasses full of champagne.

Two

He brought you closer to him with his hand on the small of your back, lips painfully close to yours.

One

“Happy new year, Y/N.” 

“Happy new year, ‘Tsumu.”  With that said, he gave you a New Year’s kiss you’ll never forget, once again telling you that he was yours. 

And you were his.

(a/n: look who finally came back!! the worst writer ever. so uhm, i literally have no excuse this time, depression has been kicking my ass lately and i had a huge creative block, there was nothing going on in my head, it was just me and mitski against the world. anyways, there you have it, iwaizumi being miserable and a wholesome seijoh reunion without oikawa because he is booked and busy. ALSO !!! ATSUMU!!! WHAT THE HECK MARRY ME IM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM. and no i don’t know what complying to canon is, im sorry kageyama but it was atsumu’s moment to shine, you’ll get it next year... or not. tell me if you liked this chapter, i love reading y’all. i hope everyone is safe and healthy, remember to take time for yourself and that atsumu is the only man ever!!)

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TAGLIST (closed): @aonenthusiast @wiseeggspickleslime​ @koushisun​ @airheadpillar​ @sunflwrsandprettyskies​ @bbkiyoomi​ @daphnxy​ @shephard17895​ @avatarkyoshithewarrior​ @for-rebloggery​ @vv-bee999-vv vv @fi16ns @asdfghjkl7things @glassykaashi @strawhatshepard @hawkssnugget @msby-kei @toobsessedsstuff @a-moon-fairy @cuteissei @ramblingsofagoofyperson @pinoyrella @kiyoomisimp

[julieloveupstead]

"It Was So Close" - Upstead 8x07

Description: They came so close to losing the most important person in their lives in an instant, but after all, they are police officers and that's their job risk, right?

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Hailey was still asleep when Jay left her suite. They were going to start working separately that day. Jay, Adam, Kevin, and Kim were working on the Becerra brothers of the Latin Players, who Ruzek had been working on for the past few days, and Hailey had some paperwork due that had her at her desk all morning. She didn't know why, but she had the radio on on their shared frequency and was listening to something she didn't even know what exactly. Maybe she wanted to kill the boredom and the silence in the room or she wanted to make sure that the work the team was working on went according to the plan and that nothing unexpected happened, although she did not expect anything special to happen. She was almost finished with her report when Kim's voice came over the radio

- 5021, Eddie, 10-1, 10-1! Shots fired at police. We're at 4200 South Justine.

- Sergeant! - she called out and immediately a grey head emerged from her office.

- We have undercover officers firing shots. - Kim could still be heard.

- Let's go - decided the boss. Hailey took her jacket and ran to the car. When she heard her friend's words her heart stopped and the darkest thoughts came into her head and she didn't know how to throw them out. After all, Jay was surely fine, right? Shit what if he's lying there right now with a hole in his caltrop and oh god what if he's bleeding out right now and I'm not there with him? No, no, no, no. I'll never forgive myself for not being there, and I suggested to Jay that he wanted me to go with them, but he told me to get some sleep. Oh my God, what if this morning was our last? I'll never see his green eyes again, his wonderfully gallant smile that is reserved just for me and that makes my knees soften and butterflies dance in my stomach. Oh god, oh god, Hailey get a grip on yourself damn it nothing happened because if something bad happened Kim or Kevin would report it, right?

There was a war going on in Hailey's head, and her heart was rumbling in persi, and squeezing unpleasantly in her stomach. She was trembling all over her body and could barely keep herself from crying, but she knew that with Voight around, she couldn't afford to.

For Hailey, it took forever to get to the scene of the shooting, and when Voight finally parked, she took off running, praying that Jay would be okay and that she could scold him for freaking me out again.

- Jay! - shouted Hailey as soon as she saw Kim, who was waiting for backup. Apparently they had arrived first, which probably meant that nothing bad had happened, but as she got closer she saw a black cloth and a piece of shoe sticking out from under it. She froze at the sight and couldn't even move or breathe. She didn't hear someone say her name, she didn't feel Kim touch her arm. All that mattered was that she was late. That she wasn't where she needed to be, that she had let him down. She had promised Jay that she would always cover his back, that she would always be there for him. She was mad at herself for daring to tell him so late that he had long been more than a partner and friend to her. She regretted that they had so little time to themselves. She hadn't had time to tell him that she loved him, that she wanted to become his wife and grow old with him. Yes they had only been together for a month and hadn't really talked seriously about the next steps in their relationship, but it was so obvious to her that he was the one for her that she hadn't considered that something like that would happen. Or should she? She dropped to her knees a few inches from where the body was and, with trembling hands, reached to hide the bag, but then, as if from an abyss, a voice emerged that always brought her out of the dusk. She closed her eyes and let out a few tears that came unexpectedly, she wanted so badly to remember that sound.

- Hailey - she heard someone calling her more clearly now, but she still didn't open her eyes. She was afraid that if she opened them she would not see the most calming and amazing green of Jay's eyes in front of her. - 'Hailey, open your eyes, please,' she heard someone whisper, and someone's hands drawing unknown patterns on her shoulders. Just because she smelled a familiar scent she slowly opened her eyes. At first she thought it was a dream, but then when she studied with her eyes the whole face looking at her with worry, and steam escaped from his mouth, she believed that she was not dreaming that there was a whole and healthy Jay kneeling before her. Then all her senses seemed to awaken from their winter sleep and she realized what she had done, what a circus she had put on. Because of her, it was probably now anyone's guess that she and Jay were together. Damn.

When her breathing normalized and her thoughts returned to normal, she wordlessly got up from her knees and moved away from Jay, who now really looked worried and she knew he wanted to talk, but her survival instinct told her to put on the mask of a professional cop and go back to work as if nothing had happened. Because, after all, nothing had happened. Jay was alive and that was the most important thing, and they could talk later when they got back to her apartment after work. She let Jay know that she was okay and that they would talk later, and then she walked off in the direction of the arriving officers.

There was no time to talk for most of the day, about what had happened that morning. Hailey buried deep in her memory what had happened and did her best not to over-intellectualize the stares her colleagues were sending her, especially not to give into Jay's constantly sending her stares. She tried to work and act like she did on any normal work day, which was to say, professional and cold-blooded, as if it wasn't happening. She worked and functioned better that way. The only upside was that she wasn't avoiding Jay she just knew that command wasn't the place to talk, last time they broke that promise and she's pretty sure Kev suspected something. She'd promised herself she'd never let that happen again, and oh this morning it all came to a head, and now she was sure everyone knew about them. Damn. She could have acted more professionally, but emotions got the better of her.

On the other hand, no surprise there, right? Jay had already escaped death almost twice in front of her eyes, until now she sometimes wakes up at night with the sight of a bloody and unconscious Jay in that damn basement. More her reaction shouldn't surprise anyone and it doesn't have to mean anything right away. I'm sure I'm just exaggerating all these looks. She kept repeating to herself. Her head was starting to hurt from all this, so she got up from the desk she was sitting at and headed towards the breakroom with the intention of making herself some coffee.

Adam and Kim went to talk to Adam's CI, Kev disappeared as I suspect to call Vanessa who got a job in the drug department. Voight, on the other hand, went to see Deputy Inspector Samantha Miller, so it was just Jay and her left in the break room.

- Hey - she heard Jay's voice behind her who she didn't even know was standing behind her, she was still consumed with thoughts from the whole day and which she was trying so hard to keep out of her mind. She turned with a small tired smile towards the man. Jay also had a similar smile on his face, but she could also see that he looked worried and as she guessed probably because of her. This guy was unsmiling. He had barely escaped with his life recently, and he would always worry more about her than himself. Sometimes she felt guilty about it, because she didn't want to cause him even more problems, and now since they were together she felt overwhelmed by it, because no one in her life and the early one where parents in any normal family should do it and the later one when she grew up no one cared about her like he did. At every step he proved how much she meant to him. She almost felt like a princess with him. And maybe that's why losing him scared her so much back then.

- Hey, you want some coffee? - I asked, trying to sound as natural as possible, but it only took a glance at Jay to know that he didn't believe her one bit, but he slowly nodded.

Jay sat down on the couch waiting for Hailey to make them coffee in peace. He wanted to give her a moment to sort out her thoughts, he didn't want to rush her, his goal all along had been to reaffirm that she could always count on him, that he would always be there for her, despite everything. This was, after all, how their thing had started and how it would be until the end, because this was how they functioned. So without rushing, he waited patiently for Hailey to open her heart and soul to him. He did not care if it could be today, tomorrow, next week, next month or even next year, for him the most important thing was that in the end he would entrust her demons to him. And even the smallest secret from her childhood, or what she felt, would fill him with unbelievable love and pride, that she was able to trust him.

And so they sat in the kitchen, in the department and sipped their coffee unhurriedly. Jay often tried not to look at his girlfriend, but sometimes he couldn't help thinking what a damn lucky guy he was to have such an amazing woman by his side. When he heard the shots his first thought was Hailey and the guilt he felt for letting her down again, for breaking the promise he'd made to her a year ago and he'd repeated that promise last week, that he'd always come back to her. He couldn't do that to her, not when his biggest dream had come true. She was the only thing that had kept him alive for four years now almost. When he heard her calling him there that morning he felt so relieved that they still had time and a chance for everything that awaited them on their journey together. What bothered him, however, was the state Hailey was in and he knew full well it was all his fault. This overbearing little person must have been terrified and it reawakened old memories that they both wanted to forget.

- When I heard over the radio that there had been gunshots... - Hailey spoke so quietly, but Jay would have heard her even at the end of the world. He gave all his attention to his girlfriend, he would always want her to know that she was the most important thing to him, so he sat quietly letting her calmly express her emotions, he didn't rush her. - And then when she saw the two bags.... - he didn't need to see her face to know that there were tears in her beautiful ocean blue eyes. Jay stood up and slowly walked over to her. He set his cup down on the table and knelt by the woman of his life.

- Hey, Hailey will you look at me? - he asked himself just as quietly. His heart was breaking into a million little pieces when he saw how scared she was. He slowly wiped away the tears running down her cheeks with his thumb, then took her hand with his and squeezed it tightly. He wanted her to know that he was here, that he would not leave her. He did everything slowly and calmly, he didn't want her to cringe inside, to suffer. He dreamed of taking away all her pain, fear and anxiety and all the weight she carried on her back. - I'm sorry I scared you, I'm sorry it all came back again, I'm sorry you had to go through this again. - With every word, he looked centrally into her eyes. - I can't even imagine what you went through today. I'm so damn sorry, Sunshine.

- It's okay, Jay, it's our job, right? - she said trying to sound more confident, but Jay knew her too well. The green-eyed man merely nodded, knowing that slowly Hailey was trying to end the conversation, and he didn't want to pressure her or force her into anything knowing that then she would shut down completely. That's why he sent her a small reassuring smile, he hoped she could read from his gaze, his face, everything he wasn't able to convey with speech. He stood up and hugged the girl sitting in the chair and kissed her head.

Back then, Jay didn't know that he would soon feel a substitute for what Hailey probably felt every time she saw him in a more dangerous situation. Now he was more determined to be more careful, because the kind of fear and helplessness he'd felt out there under the warehouse when they'd managed to catch those responsible for that morning's shooting and when it got hot and he didn't have a good place to shoot he didn't wish on anyone.

Today was so close to both of them losing what is most important to them, but all the more reason for both of them to be determined to keep fighting and never stop.

[wienerbarnes]

Necessary Evil

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: nothing crazy, typical canon violence type stuff, special character appearance👀

A/N: so sorry for not posting this like two days ago when i said i was going to🥴 ive had a ton going on and ive been a busy bee but hopefully ill get myself organized for next week :) question for yall! should i keep the friday posting schedule or do thursdays instead bc of fatws on fridays? lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

It’s been a confusing couple of weeks. You’ve been placed on a temporary leave while you finish your recovery after the last mission.

You’ve been trying to learn as much about your new powers as you can, not really understanding what they are or how they work considering that most of the time they’ve shown themselves it’s been accidental.

Making Bucky drop food, slamming doors shut, sending stuff flying across the room. At this point you’ll tape your hands at your sides if it means you’ll stop making such a mess everywhere.

Everything has been put on halt. You don’t cook, in fear of starting a fire or making a mess in your kitchen, you don’t spar with anyone or workout unless it’s in a closed off and sealed training room used for when the Hulk was at the tower, in fear of hurting people around you, and unfortunately, you haven’t let Bucky be around you much in fear of hurting him.

He tells you that you’re not going to hurt him and that even if you did he wouldn’t take it personally, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. The two of you got into a heated argument a few days ago when he offered to let you use him as a practice dummy for your new powers.

“How dare you suggest something like that to me?!”

“Well, I just meant that -”

“Meant what? How would you feel if I asked you to slap me around like a ragdoll with your metal arm? Make you go Winter Soldier on me?”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it though?”

It wasn’t pretty.

It also didn’t help that Bucky was sent on a solo mission recently. He couldn’t tell you much about it, and you didn’t push it, knowing the two of you were still a bit rocky with each other, and knowing that it would only put more stress on you constantly thinking about his mission.

Boy, did you miss him though. You’re glad you put aside your pride to hug and kiss him goodbye, taking in his warmth, his love, his smell, savoring his arms around you and his lips on yours before he left. With the way he held and kissed you, you think he felt the same.

That was two days ago. Alpine has been the one to keep you the most company. She’s gotten big, and it’s a lot more fun to play around with her now. You trail a feather attached to the end of a string around the ground while she tries to pounce after it. A knock at the door doesn’t even pull her attention away from the toy as you let her win and catch it, standing up from your sitting position on the floor.

You open it to reveal Sam in more casual clothes than his regular tactical pants and shirt, and you return the smile he gives you.

“You busy?” He asks.

You look over your shoulder to see Alpine still pawing at the feather on the ground.

“No, I’m not busy, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hang out, we both got the day off, figured I’d show you the best danishes in New York.”

You’re not sure if Bucky put him up to this or if this is a way to keep you from going batshit being stuck in your room not being able to do anything, but you accept the offer anyway. It’ll be nice to get some air.

“Do you, uhm,” You begin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What’s up?” Sam asks, the guy from the VA coming out, encouraging you to tell him.

“Do you know if Bucky’s okay? I haven’t heard from him, is all.” You ask, slipping on some shoes and heading back out into the hallway with Sam.

“I mean, I’m sure he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?”

“Just that I know these solo missions can be anywhere and he could be doing anything, but I still worry. I didn’t know if you knew where he was or anything.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know, because Bucky told him Steve asked him for a few favors and he needed some off time for a couple of days. He thought Bucky was in rural New York. There’s no mission. But he supposes he’s not supposed to tell you that.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it. Fury’s probably the one behind it.” Fury’s in Florida for his niece’s sixth birthday. He doesn’t tell you that either.

Luckily you accept it and enter the elevator to leave the private floor and go to the common area, able to leave out the backway of the tower.

“Avenger in the building, Captain.”

Sam doesn’t understand. Avenger? Who’s even around anymore?

“Uh, huh? Bucky?”

“No, Captain.”

“Clint?”

“No.”

“Who’s here?”

“Underoos.”

Underoos? Where has he heard that? Isn’t that -

The elevator doors open to the common room, a teenage boy stands with his back towards the two of you. His head whips around in typical teenage fashion and your eyebrows shoot up, unaware that the Avengers recruited teenagers.

“Is that a fucking kid?”

“Peter?” Sam asks, clearly surprised at the boy being in front of him. He hasn’t seen him in years. He wasn’t even sure where he was all this time, assuming he was in school, with his Aunt, but now he’s here.

“Sam! And his lady... friend. How are you?!”

“The lady friend has a name.” You chirp.

“What are you doing here?”

You and Sam speak at the same time. Peter addresses you first, “And your name is…?”

“Uh, Agent 51.” You didn’t think that through.

“Weird name, but alright.”

“Peter.” Sam brings his attention back to his question.

“Who is this guy?” You ask, clearly lost on who this person is and how he’s an Avenger.

“This is Spider-Man.” Sam tells you nonchalantly.

“Uh- Sam?!” Peter exclaims.

“What, she works with us, now. She doesn’t have anyone to tell anyway.”

“Sam?!” You elbow him.

“Why are you here, Peter.” Sam asks again.

“Well, you know, I was in school, doing some stuff here and there for Hill and Fury, and I figured I’d stop by.” He smiles.

You and Sam stare in silent confusion.

“Okay, look. I feel… lost. Like I feel like I’ve come to terms with Tony dying and stuff, but, I don’t know...” Peter finally cuts to the point.

You know very little about Spider-Man. You definitely didn’t know he was a kid, but you also didn’t know that he had some sort of a close relationship with Tony Stark. You’re becoming more and more like Bucky everyday; not knowing who any of these people are, not remembering seemingly important events, hell, not even knowing have these things happened because you were under Hydra.

“Peter, we don’t -”

“I’m not asking for help. More so asking if you have anything for me to do, or something.” His smile falls. You’re definitely confused, but you feel for the guy. You remember feeling lost as a teenager, losing the people you looked up to. And that lost feeling landed you in the Marines and the Marines landed you with a terrorist organization. We should help him, you immediately think.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam offers. He wants to help Peter, as annoying as he finds him. Being a teenager is hard, and being Spider-Man is harder. But, Sam can’t forget that he’s still a kid in school with only his aunt and a few friends around him. He doesn’t want to put a person like that in the immense danger they throw themselves into, even if he knows he can handle it.

“No worries, I’ll be on my way, then.” Peter nervously scratches at his eyebrow.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around here for a bit? I know the Avengers aren’t much of a thing anymore, but, you always got a room here; a place to stay.” Sam tells him, assuming Peter’s on the verge of having a sort of coming-of-age moment.

“No, no, I need to be with May. I’ll see if I can, uh, maybe stop by more often. Maybe. If that’s alright. Nice to meet you, uh, Miss 51!” He bids farewell before walking away awkwardly, leaving Sam with a sort of sullen look on his face and you still very confused.

“What was that whole thing about?” You finally break the silence as you two make your way towards the private garage elevators.

“I’ll tell you over danishes.”

Bucky plants his fist into the HYDRA soldier’s face for the sixth time, the sound of metal hitting flesh making a slushy sound with little clanks, signifying teeth hitting the floor.

“This is the last time I ask you before I kill you. Where is Bychkov, Morozov, and that fuck with metal arms?” He pants beneath the black mask and goggles, an outfit he hadn’t dawned in so long.

Your list is heavy in his pocket, he thinks about the names he’s already crossed off and few he has left. He’s not going to stop until he finds the handlers that captured you and the supposed soldier with metal arms that shot you, details you only mentioned to him once after a nightmare that he refused to ever forget.

“They… went back… to base… in Kiev. Just… north of it.” He struggles out.

One step closer. Bucky stands taller, letting the man slump on the ground, and he reaches for the knife at his thigh.

“Wait! I - I told you… where they went!”

“I was going to kill you whether you told me or not, you Nazi fuck.” Is all he says before he slashes the knife, ending the bastard’s life.

Leaving the man’s home, he rounds a corner into the night and replaces his knife, taking out a pen in one of his many pockets as well as your list.

He crosses off Antonov, looking down at the four remaining names, two of which were the men that did this to you.

He takes a breath, the layers of leather and kevlar straining over his muscles as he sighs. He never thought he’d be hunting people down like this, Nazi or not. He never thought he’d have this black mask and these goggles over his eyes. But he also never thought HYDRA would touch the love of his life the way they did; never thought they’d put you in that chair.

So, now, he’s only getting revenge. It’s the least he can do after this organization has stolen his life, kept him from seeing his family forever, took his arm, gave him PTSD, gave his girlfriend PTSD and injected her with who knows what only to put her in that goddamn chair.

While he never thought he’d be in this position, they asked for it, and he’s not sorry.

On to the next name.

[apexqueenie]

Hi sweet! Welcome to Tumblr ❤️ I was wondering if you could do a Bakugou x reader, where the read is quirk-less and hides it from him, then he finds out and angsty stuff happens, but it ends in fluff. Feel free to change bits ❤️

Yasssssssss sorry this took so long!!! I recently took a trip to Oregon and couldn’t write as efficiently as I wanted to, please enjoy!!!

The Bitchy Couple (Bakugou x Quirkless Reader)

Warnings: swearing (duh)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You remember the first time Bakugou laid eyes on you. It almost felt like it was yesterday. He tried to kill you then.

You roamed the middle school grounds, looking for someone to hang out with during lunch. The latest pop music blared in your eardrums as you lost yourself in your imagination, pretending you were in a music video or something. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even see the three people that were headed your direction, equally distracted. The one in front was walking backwards, spouting loud nonsense to the two. He had no idea that you two were on a collision course straight for each other until BAM, your face collided into his shoulder blades.

“HEY, WHAT THE FUCK YOU NERD?” he turned around and yelled

Annoyed, you readjusted your headphones and scoffed. “You were the one walking backwards asshole, and you’ve got 2 goonies who coulda warned you, but I guess all you were too stupid!” You spat, walking off.

Back then, you were the only one who threw his shitty attitude right back at him. Bakugou didn’t wanna admit it, but he respected someone who could fight his fire with fire. Screw bullying the lower classmen, they weren’t as entertaining after a while. Besides, he found a new hobby, and it was to outdo you.

Almost every day, your conversations would end up something like this:

“Hey you wench, where’d you get those shitty headphones?”

“Up your mom’s ass, dickhead”

“Oh yeah? At least she has an ass. It looks like your back just extends to your legs”

Then, it escalated more into:

“Suck my dick, Bakubitch”

“How bout u suck mine? I’ve prolly got a bigger one anyways!”

“Nah, I know you’ve choked on waaaaaaaaaay more dick”

-And it got to the point that people were taking bets on who won the insult fest that day. In your school, you two were a famous duo, often being referred to as “the bitchy couple”, well, at least to the outsiders.

Away from the eyes of your classmates, Bakugou was a little more...sweet? You weren’t really sure what to call it, but it was a side of him that wasn’t always angry, someone who didn’t feel like he had to put on a show all the time. You worked hard to uncover that side of him, and damn were you proud. You did nearly everything to annoy him at first: telling everyone his most embarrassing secrets during lunch, purposely pairing with him during class projects- you even got your mom to contact his mom so they can arrange “study sessions” for you two. In return, he’d send the most embarrassing pictures of you to guys who asked you out, steal the shoes out of your locker so you’d walk to class with smelly feet, and blew up your jacket a couple of times during the winter. Eventually though, when the two of you walked home together alone and away from your audience, he’d lend you his jacket, promising to buy you a new one to replace the one he destroyed. During those class projects, you’d pour your all into obtaining a good grade when no one was looking. Underneath the mask that the two of you showed everyone, you guys were almost a couple.

Almost.

“Baka-gouuuuu” you hummed.

“What?”

You pouted your lips at him, earning yourself an aggravated blush from the gremlin.

“Disgusting” he said, “come to UA with me”

“Haha- wait what?” You stopped, completely baffled, “you want me to WHAT?”

Bakugou scoffed, not meeting your eyes. “You heard what I said.”

You scanned his face, looking for any sign of sarcasm or jokes...anything-but no, he was dead serious. That was completely out of character for him, even you were amazed at how sudden his behavior flipped. You looked down, thoughts spinning in your head as you processed the question. You were nervous, but why? He asked you to go with him, THE Bakugou asked you to apply at the same school when he basically bullied half the rest of the school out of even THINKING about it, so why aren’t you excited?

“Hero course” he said, and pointed to himself, “like me”

Then it clicked in your head, not once in the entire time the both of you had together did you ever show off your quirk like he did. Even when he’d challenge you, you’d always end up saying something like, “I don’t need a stupid quirk to make you cry like a little baby”. He’d think nothing of it and continue squabbling with you. No one, not even your own mother has ever outright told him you were quirkless. Maybe part of you was scared of what his reaction will be, judging from the way he treats Deku. Maybe some of it was shame from being a part of the minority in the world. You didn’t really know, and it was just something you never really wanted to find time for. Now, all that laziness was coming right back to bite you in the ass.

“Bakugou, I don’t really-“

“I’m gonna need someone to bully at UA...other than shitty Deku” he said, but his eyes told you what he really wanted. He wanted someone loyal, someone who would stick around through all his bullshit when no one else would. Even his goons were intimidated out of applying at UA. There wasn’t anyone left to compete against and keep Bakugou grounded except for, well, you.

You sighed, wondering how you were going to explain this to him.

“(Y/n)-“ he started again.

But you were faster, “I can’t apply to the hero course, Bakugou.”

He looked at you, confusion written all over his face. “What? Why?”

You looked down, averting his gaze. “Uhm, because... I can’t be a hero without a quirk, can I?” You say quietly.

It seemed like the world just stopped the moment those words left your mouth. The wind stopped shaking the leaves of the trees around you and Bakugou just...froze. You stayed silent, letting him take it all in.

His mouth moved as if he wanted to say something, but he turned away instead, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite hear.

“Baku, I can’t hear you.”

He turned around, rage in his eyes. He spoke low and aggressive, sending shivers down your spine, “so you were just a quirkless nerd this whole time? Did you hear me that time you little bitch?” He took a step towards you, towering over your smaller frame. You stumbled backwards and almost lost your footing, fear rushing through your veins. You were well aware of what Bakugou could do, but you never thought that you’d be on the receiving end. Is this what Bakugou was like as a true bully?

Bakugou scoffed at your reaction and continued advancing in your direction, “How noble of you, following me around and wasting time with pathetic insults when I could’ve been training. Do you feel proud of yourself? DO YOU?”

You were shocked. He hasn't talked to you like that before. Not like this. Tears threatened to start forming at your eyes, flushing your face red. Bakugou blinked, realizing what he just said. Deep down, he felt awful from the very first sentence, but his ego wouldn’t let him apologize. He turned around and walked on home, leaving you silently crying where he left you.

He nearly broke the hinges of the door off when he got home, ignoring his mother’s yells and climbing up to his room. He cursed over and over again, fighting his conscience and his ego at the same time. Dammit, he was supposed to be fighting villains, not his own head! On one hand, he just couldn’t believe that you would tolerate him calling quirkless people pieces of shit, but on the other hand, he thought maybe it was his fault for making you feel unwelcome at the topic. Either way, he wasn’t sure what to be angry about, so he got angry at everything.

“aaauuAAAAAGH” he yelled in frustration, as he slams his body down onto his bed. What the hell was he supposed to do now? You probably-no, DEFINITELY didn’t want anything to do with him by now. Still, he just couldn’t help but feel bad. It was gnawing at his chest relentlessly, urging him to go back and make things right, and that was exactly what he was gonna do.

“KATSUKI!!! WHY IS IT SO DAMN COLD IN THE HOUSE?” Mama Bakugou yelled. She waited for an angry response, but heard nothing. She walked up the stairs, expecting her son to have passed out already, but was instead greeted with an empty room...and an open window. “Stupid kid,” she scowled, “coulda walked out the front door ya know, or at least close the damn window.”

***

Bakugou didn’t break a sweat running to your house, but he panted hard. His mind was jam packed with the things he wanted to say to you, he just had to find the courage to say it. Hah, Bakugou Katsuki... afraid of something? That was a first. He climbed the side of your fence up along a pipe, just like he’s done a million times before. He’d come and leave before your mom could smother him with her home cooking and conversations about arranging a marriage between you and him. It honestly became a little too overwhelming, and he’d just sneak in and out whenever he’d have to tutor you on something.

He pulled the window open and slipped in only to find a lamp being swung at his face. He dodged nimbly and stopped your second swing with one hand, ripping the lamp out of your hands before you could try again. You turned around and grabbed a book off your desk, yeeting it at his face before kicking his stomach. The lamp made a thump as it landed on the floor, Bakugou now occupied with the gigantic math book. You frantically looked for something else to throw, knowing he recovered quickly in combat. Your eyes landed on a half eaten pork bun on your bedside dresser and you quickly lunged at it, managing to hit Bakugou’s forehead before he could see it coming.

“God DAMMIT stop tryna hit me with shit!” He yelled, shoving you on to your bed.

You staggered a bit before falling and growled in anger, “you have some fuckin nerve coming back here after what you said!” You yelled back.

“Honey what’s going on?” Your mother called, opening the door. You two were so caught up in arguing that you didn’t realize how much noise it was making...or the footsteps coming upstairs. Your mom gasped as she saw what happened. You lying on the bed, hair messy, shirt a bit ruffled...Bakugou standing over you just OOZING dominance...oh yeah, she got the picture. The WRONG picture.

She blushed bright pink, “oh uh, hi Katsuki, be careful you guys ok?!?! Okbyedontforfettouseprotection!” She said before slamming the door closed in a hurry and climbing down the stairs.

“MOM WAIT NO IT'S NOT LIKE THATUUUUUUUUUGH” you yelled and plopped your face into your hands. You weren’t even angry anymore at Bakugou, just frustrated.

You sighed, lifting your face from your hands and stared into empty space. Bakugou took the empty spot next to you, looking at the ground. There was a long and awkward silence between the two of you. Painfully long. Bakugou eventually sighed, making a move to break the extremely thick ice.

“I didn’t really mean what I said, (y/n)-“ he started.

“Then why did you say it?” You snarled.

Bakugou looked up at you, then back at the ground, fiddling with the fabric of his pants. “I was just, I dunno, angry at myself ok? Fuck off, wait no don’t fuck off, I...” he shook his head and took a big huff of air. Admitting his own wrongs wasn’t his forte, but it was definitely entertaining. You resisted the urge to smile a bit. He didn’t deserve that yet, not until he apologized. “I was just angry cuz...cuz I thought only people with quirks could be strong. But then you showed up and I thought you were probably the third strongest person I’ve ever met-“

“Third?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“After All Might, then me” he said, furrowing his eyebrows, “anyways, back to the point, look, I’m just sorry, for everything and I guess I shouldn’t have said that. I got upset at the fact that...I can’t beat your ass in hero course now. I can’t do projects with you anymore. And plus, if you aren’t going to UA anymore then-“

Bakugou was interrupted once again when you sat up, walked over to your desk, and dug through your drawer. You pulled a few pieces out before finding the one you wanted, then proceeded to wave it in the gremlin’s face.

“Who said I wasn’t going to UA?” You said, watching as his face just stared at the paper in awe.

“You’re enrolling in support?!” He yelled, taking the paper out of your hand.

“Yep” you said, giving him a small smile.

Bakugou lowered the paper and hung his head, “(y/n), I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again.”

You sat back down and scooted over to lean on his shoulder, something he’d only ever let you do in private. “It’s ok Bakagou, I know you were only scared of losing me to some quirkless job like accounting or-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP IM NOT SCARED OF WIMPY SHIT LIKE THAT” he yelled, a small and almost unnoticeable blush appearing on his face.

You giggled, “sure whatever, look, I won’t be able to fight villains with you, but I can help you fight villains better by making support items for you. So I guess...that kinda makes me the hero behind the hero huh?” You smiled.

Bakugou scoffed, “Heh whatever, you better make me the best fuckin support items out of anyone there cuz I’m gonna need em to be number one, understand?!”

You scoffed back, “Number one my ass, maybe third place at the MOST.”

He growled as he whacked you with a pillow, making you shriek with delight. High school with this angry gremlin was gonna be interesting.

[haro-whumps]

Group Whumpees 14: Headway

CW: slavery, multiple whumpees, aftermath of abuse, property destruction, migraine, actually a pretty fluffy chapter all things considered

Tag List: @bleeding-demon-teeth​ @theycomeinthrees​‌  @redwingedwhump​ @whimperwoods​ @inpainandsuffering​ @whole-and-apart-and-between​ @whump-whump-whump-it-up​ @whumpingupastorm​ @newandfiguringitout​ @lonesome--hunter​ @looptheloup​ @icannotweave​  @deluxewhump​ @whumping-every-day​ @yeet-me-out-a-window​ @what-a-whumpy-world​ @burtlederp​ @swordkallya​ @finder-of-rings​ @fairybean101​ @adventuresofacreesty​ @arlennil​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight​ @lumpofwhump​ @thatsthewhump​ @pinkdiamondprince​ @shameless-whumper​  @whump-only​  @kiretto-laorentze​ @eatyourdamnpears​ @whumpzone​ @bluebadgerwhump​  @fanastywhump @jo-castle @muffindaddy @whumpsy-daisies

Please let me know if you were not alerted or if you asked to be added to the tag list and I missed you, tumblr’s been messing up badly lately.

Masterlist

Nyla was… conflicted. 

But it didn’t do her any good to be conflicted, so she put on her smile, fastened her shoes, and got to work. 

Master had been very generous the day before, giving them a truly absurd amount of time to just sit and relax--threat of ghosts notwithstanding. But now it was time for her to resume her routine, as much of it as she still had.

And, since they’d been preoccupied with ghosts, or non-ghosts, or whatever it was Greyson had seen and Master Galo had dealt with, that meant Master Galo’s “crash course on queerness” needed to happen this afternoon. Which, hm, well, it was rather unreasonable to be nervous about it, right? Master was kind, and the last gathering had been a net positive. Maybe it was just because it was something to look forward to, and Nyla was nervous about things to look forward to.

Also there was that dumpster out front and Nyla wasn’t sure what it was for (perhaps another volley with the art pieces?), but she would deal with that when Master ordered her to.

She was passing by the front door when it opened and her heart leapt into her throat. She whirled, stepping back, but a familiarly massive outline stepped in and she relaxed, smile turning a little less forced.

“Welcome home, Master,” she greeted, kneeling as she took his extended hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. He was damp with sweat and smelled like cut grass and warm air. “Did you enjoy your volunteer service?”

“Yeah; it’s gorgeous out. Partly cloudy and kinda hot, perfect early summer day.” Master Galo pushed his wet hair away from his face, Nyla watching the way his arms flexed and moved and observing her own lack of fear response.

Don’t think about it.

“I’m starving though; any idea when lunch is?”

“Apologies, Master, but it won’t be ready for another half-hour yet,” Nyla said, knowing Sasha had only just gotten it in the oven. Her smile tugged at the corners of her eyes, face tight.

“Sweet! Enough time for a shower then,” Master Galo said with a bright smile, loosening some of Nyla’s nerves.

Nyla gave a short bow, hands clasped in the folds of her apron skirt, and took a deep breath as she rose back up, watching Master Galo’s back as he climbed the steps two at a time. Alright then. (He really did have a nice back) Alright then.

Do your job, Nyla, focus.

It’d be easier if she had anything to focus on. She almost wished Master Galo would host something, bring over guests or Guests of his own. Something Nyla could be active for, something that would require planning and management and preparation. 

But it wasn’t her place. Master Galo would do as Master Galo pleased and she would facilitate where she could and be good and patient and pleasant and useless if Master wanted her to be because it was fine, it was fine.

“You were right,” Nyla said, voice quiet and weirdly flat for her. Evan looked up at her inquisitively, a winter boot balanced on his good thigh and a polishing rag in hand. “We’re entirely out of things to do.”

Evan snorted. “Told you.” He waved the boot good-naturedly, though smug as a cat,” I mean, c’mon Nyla, it’s barely even summer.”

“I’m bored--I’m, stir-crazy,” she whispered, ridiculously daring but if she didn’t complain to somebody she was probably going to explode. 

“I think Greyson is the only one who isn’t--or, well, I mean, there was that whole thing yesterday…” Evan trailed off, and Nyla chanced a small, barely-audible groan. 

“What am I supposed to do?” she lamented, and Evan carefully scooted himself sideways, making room for her on the boot bench. 

“Come sit and be bored with me. I’m always down to complain about things, and hearing you go at it is pretty new.” He patted next to him, and Nyla glowered at the clean, unassuming wood before plopping down next to him. She huffed, lifting up the hem of her dress and pulling a loose threat taut so she could snap it.

“I just wish he would give us tasks. I wish we’d had the… talk, this morning.”

“Yeah.” Evan handed her the matching boot to his own and she diligently started polishing, feeling instant relief at having something to do with her hands. “Waiting for it… sucks.”

Nyla felt a strange little curl of emotion in her and nudged him with her elbow. “Well, you would know better than I.”

“Hey!” Evan gasped, looking at her in honest shock before laughing, open mouthed and still surprised, and Nyla smiled. “So now little miss perfect is going to scorekeep?”

“Little Miss Perfect, I like the sound of that.”

“We should bore you shitless more often,” Evan said, leaning forward with playful curiosity dancing across his features.

“Don’t get used to this,” Nyla said, turning up her nose and deliberately sitting with pristine posture. “I’m just having a psychotic break real quick and then I’ll be back to normal.”

Evan laughed, and she smiled, a pang of pain shooting behind her eyes as she did but she was having a nice time, so she smothered any wince before she made it. “Well I better take advantage of it while I can, then.”

The sound of the water shutting off had both their heads snapping upwards, despite the fact that neither of them could see through the ceiling, and Nyla’s perfect smile was back in place, tension in her temples. “...It seems you may have to wait,” Nyla stated, setting down the boot and brushing out her apron, gathering herself. She quickly finger combed her hair, smoothed down her apron once again, and Evan caught her around the wrist.

“You okay?” he asked. Ah, she’d fiddled too much.

“Just nervous, I suppose. Nothing that won’t be resolved after lunch.”

Evan nodded slowly, letting her go, and she changed her perfect slave smile to her “don’t worry the family, I’m fine” smile. Like usual, he seemed to buy it, and Nyla slipped her perfect smile back in place with a whirl of skirts and went to serve Master Galo lunch.

He’d demanded that Grey ‘take it easy’ yet again, and Nyla decided, rather selfishly, that that meant she would take his duties as butler from him that day. But then, was it truly selfish, when Sasha would just as likely faint if she was asked to, and Evan couldn’t walk on that leg of his? Lilah was able to do it, sure, but old habits die hard and Nyla couldn’t help but want to keep their littlest as far away from their owner as often as possible. Even though this one was kind.

Then the five of them were crowded together on a couch, Master Galo standing with his laptop hooked up to the TV in front of them. Nyla subtly covered Sasha’s hand with her own, where it gripped her sleeve, and Lilah leaned against Greyson with her legs hooked over Evan’s good one.

“Alright, so, queer shit 101,” Master Galo said with a bright smile to the group, hands propped on his hips. “I am going to attempt to keep things basic while still covering the bases, but please ask questions if you have them. In the great words of someone older than me, I don’t know what you don’t know. And I also don’t know what misconceptions you might have, though given Auntie Bethany, I can make some more or less solid guesses. So, without further ado.” 

Master Galo hit a key on his keyboard and the slide changed, “Queer! Our first term, the word used for the entire community of people who are neither cis nor straight. In recent years people who wish to gatekeep, meaning to exclude people from our community, have voiced backlash against the word ‘queer’ as being ‘too-inclusive’ and have recruited well-intentioned but ultimately inexperienced youths to cycle their rhetoric. That is bullshit. Queer is our word, it is a good word, just because ignorant and hateful people are bigoted against us does not mean it isn’t our word, and it’s an all-inclusive label for anyone and everyone who finds their home among us.”

Lilah tentatively leaned forward, hand extended, and Master Galo pointed to her with arched eyebrows. It wasn’t as threatening as Nyla might have once considered it. “What’s ‘cis,’ sir?”

“That is on my next slide, I promise. For right this current moment, just know that queer is the big main umbrella word for everyone. It covers all the bases, all your base are belong to us.” Lilah nodded as Master Galo chuckled at his own joke. Nyla didn’t get the reference, but she recognized that he’d made one. 

“Cool, so, you will see many squares with lots of stripes throughout this presentation. You don’t have to memorize anything, I just think they spruce up the slides, but for reference this one is the queer flag. You may or may not be familiar with the rainbow flag, that one’s a little different, we’ll get to that.”

Master Galo flipped slides. “Transgender!” he announced happily, a blue, pink, and white flag on the TV behind him. “You have seen this flag on various articles of clothing and buttons I own. And stickers. In general I have this flag around a lot, but! That is because, I am trans. You know this,” he said, making a broad gesture towards their group. 

“The word ‘transgender’ effectively means ‘anyone who isn’t cis,’ and yes I will explain. So! Say there is a little baby, and the midwife or doctor lifts the little newborn body up to examine, and says ‘she’s a girl!’ Now, say, years down the road, that person thinks of herself and says ‘yeah sure I’m a girl.’ That is what’s called ‘cisgender,’ when the gender you were assigned at birth matches up with your own sense of self. Now, say that same baby grows up, but says ‘actually, I’m not a girl.’ That would make that person transgender.

“I am what’s called ‘binary trans;’ I was assigned female at birth, grew up, discovered I was actually a dude, and here we are. Thus, I am called a transman. The same thing happens for transwomen, but in the opposite direction. Transmen are men, transwomen are women, but some people are neither a guy or a girl. They are what is called,” Master Galo switched the slide.

“Nonbinary!” Nyla squinted, tentatively raising her hand, which Evan and Lilah were also doing. “Okay wow, lots of questions, Nyla?”

“I… apologize, sir, but I’m not sure I understand. They’re not a man or a woman?”

“Correct.”

Nyla shared a quick, anxious glance with the rest of her family.

“Okay, don’t worry,” Master Galo said, holding up his hands with a small chuckle, “I will explain. First, Evan and Lilah, was that your question too? Yeah, figured as much, okay. So, I have found the easiest way to visualize nonbinary genders is like this: Say men are blue, and women are red. Or pink, but that’s just a light shade of red, so, anyway, color theory is not today’s presentation. Back on track! If you’re imagining gender like a color wheel, that means some people are gonna be purple, right?”

Nyla nodded slowly. Okay, that made sense. A combination of traits both male and female. 

“But, on that same vein, not all other colors are purple. Sometimes colors are green, or yellow, or orange. Men and women do make up the majority of the human population, but not all of it. There’s lot of ways to have a gender, and none of them are wrong.” Lilah raised her hand again and Master Galo pointed.

“How does that--I mean, if you have a vagina or a penis, shouldn’t that be, I mean, hard? To…”

“Okay, okay, good point. Very good point Lilah, I jumped the gun a little. Backing up a bit!”

Master Galo clapped his hands lightly, no force or noise to the motion, and Nyla had the brief thought that the gesture made him look somewhat teacherly. Which made sense, given… everything happening, but there was something distinctive and pleasant about that thought. Hm.

She wasn’t gonna worry about that. Focus.

“So, biological sex and a person’s gender are two seperate things. Often, they go hand in hand. That’s where cis people come from. However, while biological sex is, y’know, biological, gender is a social construct. Which means, it has more to do with perception and sense of self, and nothing to do with your actual physical body. So, since this is the 100 level course, I could frame it as, gender’s in your head and sex is in your genitals, make sense?”

Another round of slow, wary nods. 

“It’s technically a little more complicated than that, but we’re not gonna get into that today.”

Evan raised his hand again, and Master Galo pointed at him with a smile.

“So… Sir, do you, have a dick?”

Master Galo’s lips instantly folded in and he raised a hand to cover his mouth, his shoulders shaking a little, and Nyla felt a spike of anxiety, crown of her head feeling taut. But it was laughter, a wheezing chuckle escaping her master when he said, “Uhm.”

He took a deep breath, “So, no. I do not. I don’t really want or need bottom surgery and am comfortable with my genitals the way they are. Bottom surgery is not a necessary component of transitioning, and some people, like myself, don’t have it done. However,” Master Galo continued with a rush of air, “it is generally considered extremely rude to ask a trans person about their genital structure unless you have the explicit intention of sleeping with them. I am aware you meant nothing by it!” Master Galo rushed, hands held up as Evan began to flounder. “You weren’t intentionally being rude, it’s chill. Just, for future reference, if you ever meet another trans person, that’s on the list of questions you don’t ask.”

Master Galo cleared his throat, looking a little red, but in good humor about it. He turned back to his screen with a, “Now, Lilah, you bring up an interesting point.” Master Galo flipped forward a few slides, to a screen with a yellow square that had a purple circle in the middle of it.

“Intersex! Sex, like gender, is not actually straightforward. There are many ways to be intersex, ranging from genital structure to chromosomes to secondary sex characteristics. But ultimately sex, like gender, is on a spectrum. Just because the majority of people fall easily into little categories of, urg, ‘biologically male’ or ‘biologically female,’ which for the record are not phrases you should… use, but since this is an intro to queer shit I’m making this as understandable as I can. Anyway.” Master Galo seemed to gather his thoughts. “Right! People fall into one category or the other most of the time, but not all of the time! And the ‘not all of the time’ people are intersex. Some intersex people do not feel that their biology automatically makes them queer, and do not percieve themselves to be part of the queer community. Others take comfort and community among us, so it’s always up to the person.

“Anyway, flipping back a few slides, nonbinary! This is the umbrella term for everyone who does not fall completely into ‘100% a man’ or ‘100% a woman.’ There are many ways to be nonbinary, but for the record, many nonbinary people prefer to be referred to with they/them pronouns. Not all! But, like how men use he/him, or women use she/her, many nonbinary people are referred to with a singular ‘they.’ I am aware my aunt may have had grammar-based arguments complaining about nonbinary people and gender neutral language, but I promise the singular ‘they’ predates my aunt by multiple centuries.

“Genderqueer,” Master Galo said with another slide, “This one goes hand in hand with nonbinary. Effectively, it means ‘neither fully masculine nor fully feminine,’ and is, as the word ‘queer’ might suggest, an inclusive, broad term for people who don’t have a particularly hard line definition for their gender.

“Genderfluid, meaning that a person will shift between genders depending on the day. So like, some days this person would wake up and say ‘I’m a girl today,’ and other days ‘I’m a boy,’ and maybe some days they wouldn’t feel like either of those at all. Again, this varies from person to person, but the general idea is that they flow between genders.

“Agender, meaning they have no gender at all.”

Again, Nyla, Lilah, and Evan’s hands rose. Nyla was surprised to see that even Greyson’s hand lifted, if only a little, on that. Master Galo smiled with a huff, but Nyla didn’t feel threatened. “Let’s go with Greyson, yeah?”

“How would someone simply not have a gender, sir?”

“So, if we’re imagining genders as like a color wheel, agender would be like, white, blank. No color. No gender. People ask them ‘are you a guy or a girl’ and their answer is a flat out ‘no.’”

Nyla was struggling with that. Nyla was struggling with that one pretty hard. Her brain felt tight. She got the concept, but…

“Master?”

“Yes Nyla?”

“Would it be alright if we understood in theory but not in practice?”

“Yeah, this can be hard for people to wrap their heads around, mostly I just want to introduce you to the concepts. That’s perfectly reasonable Nyla.”

Nyla dipped her head in thanks, her family nodding as well. Master Galo flipped the slide.

“Neutrois. Hand in hand with agender, if we’re using the color thing then, like. If agender is white, then neutrois would be black. People who are neutrois might describe their gender as ‘null’ or ‘void’ and other descriptors of the like. Again, I just want to introduce you to the concept, you don’t need to be able to conceptualize it perfectly.

“Okay last one under the trans umbrella,” Master Galo said, “Bigender. Someone who is multiple genders simultaneously. So, for simplicity’s sake, you could say someone who is both a man and a woman at the same time.” Master Galo smiled at them. “There are many other genders people have, but again with this being the introductory course, I just wanted to hit the big ones. Any gender questions?”

Nyla tentatively raised her hand. Master Galo smiled at her, and his expression took the edge off her anxiety.

“So, we know you, had surgery on your chest, sir,” Nyla said, hoping she wasn’t being rude by bringing it up, “do nonbinary people also engage in,” she floundered, not sure what the word for it was, but she wasn’t going to ‘um’ or stutter (even if he’d said it was okay, she could do better, and she would). 

“Some do,” Master Galo mercifully cut her off. “Some people are fine looking the way they do, or use cosmetics to accentuate certain features, and some receive surgeries. It all depends on personal comfort. And also sometimes to alter others’ perceptions, I knew someone who had no real issue with their chest but other people would assume they were a girl because of it and surgery was affirming and helpful with other people’s way of viewing them, which in turn lowered their discomfort.”

“And, sir?” Master nodded. “If a person’s name is, very feminine or masculine?”

“Most of us change our names!” he said brightly, “Like how I picked Galo for myself. Many nonbinary people will also change their names to something a little more ‘neutral.’ Again, not all though.”

Evan raised his hand that time. “You picked your own name, sir?”

“Yup! When I started to transition I changed my name. I should show you all the movie it came from sometime; it’s real fun you might enjoy it.”

“Sir?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“What was your name before Galo, sir?” Evan asked. Master Galo made an unidentifiable noise, but Nyla didn’t think that it was good. Her spine lengthened and her hand left Sasha’s on her arm to clench neatly in her lap.

“Sooo, you don’t get to know that,” Master Galo said, ducking his head with a slow gesture of his open palm towards Evan. “The name I had before Galo is what is called a ‘deadname,’ the name a trans person was assigned at birth that has since been put to rest. Again, I know you are being curious and I would definitely like to encourage you to continue asking questions, but, that’s another one of those questions you should not ask anyone who is not me. Asking for someone’s deadname is considered rude, and referring to someone by their deadname is extremely rude and actively malicious.”

“Sir, I wasn’t--”

“Easy, Evan, I know,” Master Galo said with a patient smile. “It’s good that you ask me these questions, and not someone else, because you’re learning, and I know you don’t mean any harm. But, in sum, the name I had before is not relevant, and it is not something to be shared. Any other questions at the moment? We’ve had good ones.”

A brief bout of silence, and Master Galo flipped the screen to the only flag Nyla did recognize.

“Onto sexual orientations! Sexualities, they’re called. You will probably recognize the gay flag, this is another one of those umbrella terms meaning ‘anyone who isn’t straight’ while also having the capacity to mean ‘someone who is exclusively attracted to their own gender.’ It is a term meant for everyone in the community, much the same way queer is. Yes, Evan?”

“Are you gay?”

“No, actually, I’m pretty much straight. I’m aware that men can be attractive but don’t really feel attraction to them.” Master Galo cocked his head. “You worded that kind of intensely there, you alright buddy?”

Evan was already stiff, and Nyla recognized the way his mouth twitched when he was biting down a snarl. “I’m fine.”

The lack of an honorific made the family tense, eyes on Evan because he was, like a moth to flame, doing something stupid again, but Master Galo either ignored it or didn’t notice. 

“Cool. So, along with ‘queer community’ and ‘gay community,’ you may or may not have heard the phrase ‘LGBT.’ This stands for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender, and is sort of the most widely-in-use acronym for the queer community.

“Lesbians! What would the world do without them,” Master Galo said, flipping to a slide with lots of pinks and oranges. “Nowadays, lesbian is the word for women who are exclusively interested in other women, but historically it was used to describe any queer woman at all, back before bisexual really entered into people’s vocabularies. For the record: nonbinary people can be and often are lesbians. Anyone who has literally any ties to femininity and is attracted, more or less exclusively, to women and people with ties to femininity, counts as a lesbian. 

“Bisexual! People who are attracted to 1. their own gender and 2. other genders. Sometimes it’s phrased as ‘attraction to men and women,’ which, for the record, is a fine way for you to conceptualize it here in the introductory course, but I want to be clear that bisexuality does and always has included nonbinary peeps.” Master Galo smiled. “Bixesual is a perfectly good and normal thing to be; there’s nothing wrong with it,” he said, and if Nyla had to guess she’d say he was deliberately not looking directly at any of them in particular.

“Pansexual! Hand in hand with bisexuality, pansexual people are attracted to others regardless of their gender. It can be difficult to distinguish between the two, but for some people the differences between sexualities are important. For some people, not so much, and they identify as bi and pan simultaneously. Again, we fall back on the ‘it all depends on the person’ idea. I will state that pansexuals are not attracted to everyone, they’re just attracted to every gender. Just because someone is of a certain gender doesn’t mean others won’t still find them ugly.

“Asexual! The umbrella term for people who don’t really feel attraction to other people, no matter the gender. We love respect cherish and support asexual people,” Master Galo said, oddly firm on that one. Lilah raised her hand.

“So, they just, don’t? Anybody? Sir?”

“Yeah, so, like, a straight man would only feel attraction towards women, and no attraction to men. A gay man would feel attraction to men, and no attraction to women. A bisexual man would feel attraction to men and women. And an asexual man would not feel attraction to either.”

Lilah nodded. “Okay, thank you sir.”

“However, ace--asexual--is an umbrella term. There are multiple ways to be asexual.”

Nyla frowned minutely, but then her smile was back in place. She wasn’t really sure how there could be multiple ways to not feel attraction to someone.

“There’s the spectrum of sex-positive, sex-neutral, and sex-repulsed asexuals. Sex-positive asexuals enjoy sex, the action, they just don’t think anybody’s hot. The activity is fun, but no one they look at hits that ‘oh hot I wanna have sex with them’ vibe. Sex-neutral asexuals don’t find anyone attractive, and don’t have any particularly strong feelings towards sex. It’s on par to like, going for a jog or having dinner together. Sort of a bland ‘whatever’ feeling. Sex-repulsed asexuals don’t find anyone attractive and do not, under any circumstances, want to have sex with anyone, ever. All of these are good and well! There’s no ‘wrong’ way to be asexual.”

“Next up we have grey-ace. 99% of the time, they don’t find anyone attractive, but every once in a blue moon they’ll see a person and go ‘oh hot.’ They are still asexual, they just have occassional feelings of attraction to seemingly random people. Or maybe they have a highly specific type! Again, depends on the person.”

“Last up for the ace umbrella, demisexual. Demisexual people are capable of feeling physical attraction, but only after a strong, meaningful, romantic bond has been formed. This is different than waiting in a relationship until you’re close. The person does not feel attraction, at all, until a committed bond has been formed.” Master Galo paused, letting them turn that over in their heads, but when no one asked any questions he flipped the slide once more.

“And wrapping up our crash-course on queer terminology, aromantic. Aromantic is similar to asexuality in all aspects, except that instead of talking about physical attraction, it’s about romance. Some people just do not feel the inclination to form romantic bonds with others. They still might, depending on the person, just like an asexual person still might engage in sexual activity, but the attraction isn’t there. They don’t see people and go ‘I’d like to see if this could work out as a romantic relationship’ they’re just in it for friends. Grey-romantic and demiromantic people are, again, much the same, but with romance, feeling that 99% or only gaining the capacity for a romantic relationship after a strong, meaningful, committed bond of friendship has been formed.”

Master Galo took a big breath. “Any questions?” he asked with a proud smile. 

Nyla honestly felt like she had too much information rattling around in her brain to even begin formulating a question, but Evan raised his hand.

“I don’t mean to be rude, sir,” Evan said, sounding like he was struggling not to grit his teeth.

“I know. Go ahead.”

“So, since you’re a transman, and you’re straight, then you’re only attracted to women..?”

“Yep!”

“And then, if a woman is attracted to you..?” Evan trailed off.

“That would still be considered ‘straight’ attraction, yep. The woman in question might be straight, or bi, or pan, or maybe ace! It’s all up to her. But her attraction to me would be ‘opposite-sex attraction’ yeah.”

“Was that rude sir?”

“No, no, you’re good, bud. And now you know!”

“Thank you sir.”

“Of course! I’m glad you’re asking questions. Anyone else?”

Another beat of silence.

“Alright, cool, good talk team. To wrap it all up, there are all sorts of ways people can experience gender and attraction, and none of them are wrong. Everything I talked about today is good, natural, and worthy of respect. Go ahead and let me know if you ever have questions in the future, I’m perfectly willing to talk about it.”

He took in a deep breath.

“The queer community has long faced oppression on a global scale. However, many cultures saw queerness as natural and didn’t much question it until, ah, interlopers became involved, and rerouted the course of history. But regardless of acceptance or ostricization, all cultures have their own queer histories, their own words and perceptions. 

“In recent years, and I mean really recent, queer people have started making great strides in changing legislation and public opinion of us towards the positive, though we still face a number of obstacles. You have probably noted that I am not fond of police. This is in no small part due to the fact that I am transgender. And then of course people like my aunt and various religious institutions will also condemn myself and my peers, due to malicious misconceptions or just straight up bigotry. 

“So I understand why you all may… struggle, with this information, for a bit. But I assure you, nothing is as bad as my aunt made it out to be, and if you ever want to know more I’m happy to talk with you about it.” Master Galo beamed and propped his hands on his hips. “Which about wraps this up.”

The doorbell rang. Everyone, including Master Galo, tensed.

“I think I’ll answer that,” he said. “Uh, dismissed? No, wait, wait here, we’ve got a group project I wanna work on this afternoon.”

Nyla was not in a habit of thanking god for much of anything, but she thanked god for that. Finally, a task.

Master Galo made a pleased noise and a bit of chatter Nyla could identify as friendly, there was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, then the door swinging closed.

She was on her feet and smiling when he returned, leaning his big arm on the doorway and looking happy. “Sweet, so, the stuff we ordered has started to arrive, which leads me to another thing I wanted to talk about!”

Master Galo rounded back in front of the couch where he’d been, clapping his hands together and smiling. Nyla tentatively sat back down. ‘So! I would first like to establish that I am not suggesting you break up your current sleeping arrangement. However, you’re not gonna be able to fit all the stuff you collectively ordered into that one room without it turning into a nightmare, so I’ve thought about it and it’s my idea that you all should have rooms that are your own space. Not to sleep in, obviously, just rooms that you can use to store your stuff and you can decorate them to your own interests and you’ll have a private area you can go to if you need alone time. Sound good?” Master Galo asked, looking to Nyla, to Lilah, scanning over the group.

“You are quite generous, Master,” Nyla said, but no, no, that wasn’t quite right, for him. “Thank you,” she tried again, simpler, far too rude for Mistress, but for Master…

He smiled at her, pat her on the head far too briefly, and said, “You’re welcome. Let’s go check out what arrived, yeah?”

All of Nyla’s dresses, the skirts and top Sasha had ordered from that company, and a couple of Lilah’s things were in the first two boxes, and Evan’s t-shirts and jeans were in the third. “Sorry Greyson, looks like your stuff isn’t here yet.”

Greyson nodded, outwardly impassive, and given that it had barely been his idea to order anything at all that made sense. Nyla and the others followed Master Galo to the basement, their Master helping Evan down and hastening the process, and showed them the rooms he’d selected for them. Nyla hesitantly stepped into “hers.” 

It felt wrong. She’d cleaned and examined this room countless times before, but now, standing inside it felt incorrect. 

The bed had been folded up into a couch, which was standard for the beds housed in the series of apartments in the basement. The sitting area and kitchenette that existed in the middle of these rooms were indicative that these were for long-term guests, not, not slaves. The closet, filled with more hangars than she remembered, the dresser, the small desk, they were for people, not Nyla. 

Except, apparently, they were for Nyla now. 

“Oh, shoot, that lock is totally broken,” Master Galo’s voice came from elsewhere in the apartments, “Here, go for this room, then, sorry I totally hadn’t noticed that earlier.”

A broken lock? It was something Nyla had failed to notice, too. Her heart rate accelerated and her head felt tight; Mistress would cane her for missing something so obvious, but she deliberately swallowed and took a deep breath. Master Galo was not Mistress. She couldn’t keep expecting him to act like her.

He was so much kinder. Gentle, and careful, with a sweet voice and warm hands that only ever touched her--

Nyla yanked a hangar off the closet’s bar with far too much force, utterly graceless, and it caused all the other hangars to clatter together and make a right ruckus. Her heart picked back up again, because she was clumsy, noisy, a fumbling little blushing nuisance! She unfolded her first dress and willed herself to remember that making noise was okay, it was allowed now, she could make noise and still be perfect, no one was mad at her, no one was going to come hurt her.

And where was her smile!?

She really was falling to pieces, she thought to herself, pulling another hangar off the rod properly and fitting another dress onto it. Smiling. She was smiling, she was grateful for this unexpected and unasked for privilege (weren’t they supposed to ask for things? Why was this happening unprompted?!), she was graceful and perfect and, fine. She was fine. Her temples felt tight, but she was smiling and composed and fine.

It really was satisfying to see her dresses hung up all neatly, though. When her skirts and sweaters and undershirts arrived, she’d be able to finish filling the closet, and it would look so neat and it would be hers and it was selfish, to be so vain and materialistic, but maybe since Master Galo had ordered it, that meant it was okay?

She rubbed at her right eye and stroked her hand down the material of the first dress, admiring the ruffles around the neckline and the neat, black stripes of the sewn-in green vest. She would get to wear that. She would get to wear all of them, with their pretty patterns and their pleated skirts and their ruffles and lace and bows.

It felt far too pretty for the likes of her.

She wished she knew how to properly show her Master gratitude.

She wanted, she--wanted. She didn’t want to be caned or cut or bleed or cry, but she wanted to do something, something physical, something to show just how much she appreciated everything he was doing for them, to make him happy, like he’d made her happy.

But what did a slave have to give, except her body and her service? He’d already made it clear that he didn’t want either of those, aside from her now mind-numbing chores, and that was hardly something to make him happy. More of just an expected base behavior out of her, out of all of them.

She didn’t know his favorite foods; Greyson never reported any particular signs of delight no matter what Sasha tried, at least nothing that stood out from his regular compliments. She didn’t have any way to engage with his hobbies. She couldn’t kneel at his feet and beg him to hurt her with her lips on his shoe. His base state of friendly and cheery made it impossible to tell what he liked best. The only real, solid thing she knew he liked was when they asked him for things, and it was the receiving of things that Nyla wanted to express gratitude for!

It was the weirdest, strangest, most unfamiliar form of frustration she’d ever felt. Maybe--maybe it wouldn’t count as Attending him if she offered a massage? Greyson was better at it than her, and she hadn’t had much practice in the last decade and a half aside from occasionally working a knot out of Sasha’s shoulder or soothing the nerves out of Evan or Lilah. But she’d been trained properly, and she could quickly skim an internet article sometime to refresh herself.

Oh but if Master Galo figured out she was trying to Attend him, even just a little, he might get mad, and she wouldn’t be able to handle that. She would just have to be extra-perfect for him. Sit and not kneel, smile, be unobtrusive but able to fulfil his every whim or need, maybe ask him for things? But what else could she possibly want that he hadn’t already given her?

She brushed down her apron and left “her room,” walking primly to the family bedroom and pulling out all the clothes from her drawer, which were smaller in number now that her other dress had been sliced open. She went ahead and grabbed Evan’s clothes too, and Master Galo was in the sitting area in the middle of “their rooms” when she walked back. She nodded to him, and he smiled at her before tilting his head and gesturing at the clothes in her arms.

“What’s that?”

“My clothes, as well as Evan’s, sir, from the shared dresser.”

“Oh, good memory,” he praised before returning to his phone, and she couldn’t help but flush faintly under his casual approval. She went into “Evan’s room” and found him sitting on the couch, elbow on his good knee and hands pressed together in front of his face. He looked mad.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly, so faint ideally their Master would be unable to hear. He looked up at her, dark eyes glinting with what she just knew meant trouble, and hauled himself up onto his crutches. He made as though to walk past her, and Nyla turned in confused alarm, which morphed into full alarm when he closed the door.

“Evan! Master Galo is--”

“Right there, yeah I know,” Evan said, voice mercifully quiet even though he flipped the lock. Nyla could scream if she wasn’t rooted to the spot in shock. Evan took the clothes that were his and gave her a brief “thanks” before he threw them on the floor.

“Evan,” Nyla hissed in bubbling horror, staring at the rumpled fabric. 

“Hey, it’s ‘my’ room, right?” Evan sneered as he sat back down with a heavy thump, wincing when he jostled his wound. “Which means I can make a mess of it if I want, right?!”

“Evan, these rooms are gifts--”

“That we didn’t fucking ask for. We’re supposed to ask, right?”

“He told us, it’s because we don’t have space in the main room for the things we did ask for!” Nyla hissed, “And keep your voice down!” She didn’t mention that she’d been having the same doubts. She was trembling, clutching her clothes to her chest. “I--I need to go. I need to finish putting my things away.”

She stepped away from him, needing to pause at the door to summon her smile, to suppress her wild shivers, to take a deep breath and gather herself, and when she flipped the lock she heard Evan call after her, “I’m sorry.”

She turned back again, carefully crafted smile slipping, and Evan had his face in his hand, the other clutching the edge of the cushion. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just--sorry. I’m sorry Nyla.” He ran his fingers back into his hair and gripped, hard, pulling at his roots. “I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders dropped, chest squeezing, and she swaned over to him, dropping to her knees in front of him. He startled, letting go of his hair, and she reached up her free hand to cup his face. He closed his eyes as she leaned up and kissed his cheek, and nuzzled his face against hers as he pet a hand down her hair.

“Just try to work through whatever this is before you leave the room, okay?” she asked softly, trying to be gentle with him, to not get scared and frustrated like she normally felt when he got like this. Master Galo wouldn’t hurt him like Mistress did; she didn’t need to be scared, didn’t need to be frustrated with Evan because he had more time now. “Master Galo’s in the sitting area.”

“Yeah,” Evan answered her, finger combing his bangs to the side. “Yeah. Sorry. I will.”

She kissed his forehead as she stood, and was able to summon her smile much easier this time. She rubbed at her right eye, brushed down her skirt, and went back to “her room” to finish hanging up her clothes and arranging her underthings in the drawers. 

When she finished, she skimmed her fingers over the dustless wood of the dresser. “Her” dresser. Pink with floral designs, old fashioned and expensive, an ‘antique’ that was as good as new. It was… surreal. She left the room, crossed to her Master, and slipped to her knees, then rump, to sit next to his feet. Her hands folded neatly in her lap, and she blinked away the weird feeling in her eye.

“Thank you, Master,” she said again, wishing she could say it better, express it better.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he said gently, leaning forward in his seat and petting his fingers through her hair. She allowed herself to tilt her head, eyes slipping closed, and she savored the touch. His knee was right there, it would be all too easy for her to lean in and lay her head against it. But no, no, she was better than that. He hadn’t expressed a desire for her to submit to him in that way and she was going to be perfect for him.

“Master,” she started, reminding herself that he liked questions, that technically all times were good times and she couldn’t pester him with too many, “is there a way you would like to be thanked? I am grateful, and want to show it to you properly.”

“No, Nyla, you don’t need to,” he said gently, and he sounded almost sad. “Just saying ‘thank you’ is enough.”

She tried not to feel disappointed. At the very least, she wouldn’t show it. “As you like, sir.”

The others joined them, Sasha sitting as close to Nyla as she dared, Greyson kneeling at Master Galo’s other side, Lilah sitting on the couch in a way that made them all panic slightly but reaped no consequences. When Evan joined them, a noticeable stretch of time later, Master Galo made no comment on his late appearance, only smiled and put his phone away.

“Great, you’re all here. So, about the project I mentioned. You may have noticed the dumpster out front. I would like everyone to please work together and move all of my aunt’s canes, chains, whips, restraints, muzzles, cages, knives, and the like into the dumpster. Anything she used with the purpose of hurting or humiliating you, I would like to see go. I’ve got a power drill and I’m gonna work on her, uh, dungeon, and rip up those D rings in the den and music room, but just, like. Anything you can think of. Anything used with the purpose of you guys’ pain. Get rid of it, please.”

Someday, Nyla would stop being surprised by all of Master Galo’s many surprises.

Even so, an order was an order, and like many of Master Galo’s commands she found this one easy enough to obey. Nyla rose with all her grace, curtsied, and walked a direct path up two flights of stairs to the fireplace in Mistress’s boudoir.

Mistress had never used the fire pokers on Nyla. Lilah, sure, Evan, occasionally, but Nyla had kept herself perfect, too perfect to burn. But the fear, the ever present knowledge that she could burn, at any moment, at her Mistress’s slightest whim, the moment she stopped being flawlessly, untouchably perfect, had kept her tense as a coiled wire. She stopped by the main floor’s fireplace and grabbed those pokers too, one set in each fist, and all too gleefully hoisted them into the dumpster out front. 

She diligently visited every fireplace in the house, after that, removing everything that could and would have burned her, had she not kept herself perfectly poised on her self-made pedestal. Evan was in Mistress’s room, Lilah the den, Sasha the music room. Greyson, Nyla wasn’t sure where he’d gone, but wasn’t going to get bent out of shape over it. She rubbed her right eye, then temple, and returned to the basement.

Master Galo’s power drill was loud, making her wince and the space behind her eyes sting, but she entered the Punishment Room regardless. He’d collected a small pile near the door: the shackles he’d removed from their anchors in the wall, the thin mats Nyla was pretty sure were intended for yoga that had served as sleeping pallets to the two cells, the oil and wax sconces and dishes that had hung from the walls and ceiling. The wooden horse. All of the tools, the whips and floggers and knives. Nyla gathered up an armful, and Master Galo paused in his drilling to smile at her. 

“Hey, thanks.”

“Of course, Master. Do you require any other assistance?”

“No, I think I’m good. Dismantling my evil aunt’s evil shit is kinda cathartic, really.”

Nyla bowed, and trotted back up the steps with her load of chains and whips and manacles. It was satisfying to hear them clatter down into the dumpster. She felt weird. Good?? Strange.

“Oh, are you hauling stuff for Master Galo?” Evan asked. Nyla nodded with an affirming noise. “Great, so he’ll stay down there. Lilah, hand me that cane, Grey, don’t throw that in yet.”

Nyla looked and saw that Greyson had brought the dog cages up from the utility room. Greyson cocked his head at Evan, but set them down on the drive. Evan, crutch under one arm and heavy, metal cane in his dominant hand, proceeded to beat the shit out of the cages.

The family mostly just stood there, and watched, as he reduced the cages to little more than messy heaps of broken wire. He was panting, hard, by the end of it, and tossed the cane into the dumpster.

“Did you reopen your--” Lilah asked, cut off by Evan’s, “I’m fine.”

“Okay, it just looks like you might’ve ripped a stitch out, from all’a that.”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t have done any differently,” Evan said, laughing a little and pulling Lilah in for a hug. “Fuck, that felt really good. You guys should try that.”

“I think th-that’s a y-you thing,” Sasha remarked, and Nyla chuckled. Then giggled. She rubbed at her eye, and headed back inside to grab another armload from the basement. She got the wooden horse up under her arm and shimmy-stepped her way up, the thing large and cumbersome but she couldn’t wait to get it out of the house. Greyson helped her lift it into the dumpster, and Nyla grabbed a third round.

It was on her way back down to grab a fourth armful that the pain struck her, right as her foot came down on the top step. She recognized it instantly for what it was. Ordinary pain was, in a rather hard to describe manner, very different from migraine pain. It was impossible to confuse the two.

A migraine. She was having a migraine. Oh of course, her head had felt tight all day! And her eye, that was her aura, oh, she was so stupid! How could she not have seen this coming?

Oh, god, the pain was settling in fast this time, too. It never set in all at once, but the speed was less gradual than usual, right then. She whimpered. The basement would be no good. Master Galo was using power tools down there, right across the hall from the family bedroom. Her normal migraine spot, under her nice, dark, quiet bed, wouldn’t work this time.

Think, she had a limited amount of time before the pain got bad. Where should she go? The butterfly room? That was nice and dark, no windows, but would it be quiet? She naturally gravitated towards the idea of a bathroom, where the tile would feel cool against her forehead and she could turn off the lights. Upstairs, probably, she went upstairs, hoping to escape the noise of things landing in the dumpster and her family moving and talking around her. Near the back of the house, not the front, not near the driveway. The bathroom off the lilac bedroom? She went straight for it, closing her right eye since she couldn’t really see all that well out of it.

God, it hurt so bad. She closed the door, plunging the bathroom into merciful blackness. It was quiet, just what she needed, her family and Master would be busy for a while yet, they wouldn’t need to come looking for her. She could just stay where she was, curled up against the bathroom floor, in the dark, in the silence.

God, god it hurt.

And she knew it was only going to get worse.

--

Galo had the bars unscrewed and the dungeon stripped down to nothing more than walls, the floor, and an archaic looking chandelier that he did not have the electrical expertise to deal with. He needed someone with, like, training to deal with that.

Nyla hadn’t come back for a while yet.

Which, okay, it was a big house and she probably had plenty of grudges to act out against inanimate objects, but it was weird that Nyla of all people would start helping haul away the stuff he piled up and then stop midway through. It wasn’t like her.

And when Galo’s brain told him to worry, he was starting to come to terms with the fact that it was usually right. Did it count as anxiety when it was true?

He hauled up a load after scanning the basement, and finding no one there. He got rid of the evil library books as he paced through the first floor, as well as the armchair from the den. He found Greyson and Evan, but no Nyla. Hrm. He asked if Greyson would please take care of the D rings in the den and Evan volunteered himself, which, whatever worked. Upstairs he ran into Sasha in the music room, and he pried up the D rings like he said he would since she didn’t exactly seem like the type for power tools, and was glad to hand the task over to Lilah when she gravitated towards him, leaving the drill in her capable hands.

But where was Nyla?

It was ridiculous to think that she’d been kidnapped by Barbra but Galo couldn’t help but jump to that conclusion. He stalked through the second floor, trying not to be visibly distressed lest he upset the other slaves, but running out of places to look. He opened the door of a guest bathroom, if only for the reason that it was closed, and his eyes widened with horror to see his girl lying in the fetal position on the floor.

“Nyla!” he shouted, rushing forward and dropping to his knees. She flinched, worse than he’d ever seen her jump, and curled in tighter, a muted scream passing her lips, and Galo’s panic bubbled over.

“Nyla, Nyla what’s wrong, what happened?!”

“Please!” she begged, sounding so small. “Please, please no, migraine, Master, please stop!”

Oh--oh. Oh, and his yelling would only have made it worse.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, guilt consuming him as he bent and caught sight of her silent tears. “What do you need, what helps?”

Galo didn’t know anything about migraines, other than “head hurt.” He knew they were awful, horrible things, and Nyla deserved to never ever have one. But he didn’t know--would medicine help? Was this one of those things that nothing helped, and she’d just have to wait it out? How long did they last? An hour? Should he touch her?

“Painkillers. Dark. Quiet. W--” she choked on a sob, high and pained and Galo’s heart broke into a thousand pieces. “Water, please, cold.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go get painkillers and a glass of ice water? Do you--is the bathroom good? Is this a good place for you to be?”

“My bed,” she whined, hands over her eyes and body trembling faintly.

“Okay,” Galo said, mindful of each word, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “Can--can you walk? Should I carry you? Should I touch you at all?”

“Just, don’t rattle me, please, don’t--hit my head, please, Master--”

“Never,” Galo breathed, and his heart broke all over again, to know that she still feared him so much, that Nyla had so little trust that she thought he would ever hurt her, much less when she was like this. “Never, Nyla, please, please believe that. I will never hit you.”

Nyla’s breath hitched, a little gaspy inhale, and then she slowly reached one hand out, and gripped Galo by the pant leg. Galo froze, standing on the edge of a brand new precipice, and tried to make his brain work, tried to think fast for once in his goddamn life, but his brain continued its sloth impression and he couldn’t process what this meant, though he felt its importance.

“Help me,” she begged, though it felt more like an admission than a plea. 

“Please, I don’t want the others to see me like this; I hate it when they see me like this,” she continued, and that felt closer to normal.

“Okay, okay, I can’t promise we’ll be able to avoid them but I’ll try my best. I’m going to pick you up now, alright?”

“Okay,” she whispered, barely moving her lips, but he understood why she wouldn’t want to nod her head, right then. Carefully, he gathered her up in his arms and stood. She curled in immediately, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, and he felt like he was holding the most breakable, easily-shattered entity in the universe. He felt a surge of protectiveness, a bone-deep need to take care of her, to make it better in any way he could. 

When they passed by the music room, its door open and Lilah inside with the drill, Nyla whimpered and pressed her hands hard against her ears. She wasn’t just pressing her face into his shoulder at that point, it was like she was actively trying to burrow into him, curled up so tight and stiff against him he felt she might shatter. He moved away from there as fast as he could, wanting to spare her everything he was able to. He tried to keep his gait smooth as he walked, slow on the stairs, and he actually did manage to avoid running into any of the others slaves.

He settled her down onto the cool sheets of her bed, wishing the slaves had softer pillows and wondering if he could get them any without them freaking out about it, and settled a palm between her shoulderblades.

“I’m gonna get that glass of water and those painkillers. Do you need anything else?”

“The blinds,” Nyla gasped softly, and Galo shut the blinds of the tiny skylight tightly, angled up so practically no light filtered in at all. He moved quickly, giving Greyson a probably-unconvincing smile as he passed him, but Nyla had asked that the others not know, so Galo wasn’t going to say anything. When he returned, he helped her sit up and handed her the medicine and the cup. The cool water seemed to help. 

Galo knelt by the bedside, elbows and forearms laid out in front of him on the mattress and his chin on the sheets. He stared worriedly at Nyla’s face, and wasn’t even thinking when he reached out and stroked a hand over her hair.

Realizing halfway through what he’d done, he snatched his hand back with a quietly hissed, “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to touch your head.”

“T--” Nyla swallowed, “Touch is fine, Master. Just, no… patting, or, percussion. Touch feels, good sir.”

“Yeah?” Galo whispered, no more than a breath. “Would you like me to stay with you?” he asked quietly, stroking a gentle palm down from the back of her head to mid-spine. 

“...Yes,” she admitted tremulously. “But--they last a while, Master.”

“Shhh,” Galo hushed, “I’ll stay. The others are busy and they’ll be fine, just focus on you for a little while, shh.”

Galo pet gently at Nyla’s hair, her shoulders, her back, needing to reposition a couple different times as certain parts of his body got tired or sore or lost blood flow. By the end of the first hour, Galo’s anxious concern had burned itself out, and the mild worry that remained was going to bat pretty hard with his boredom. By the end of the second hour, he’d fallen into a light doze and had been there for a while, his hand covering Nyla’s much smaller one, his thumb stroking very, very slowly over the skin on the back of her hand. He was fully asleep by hour three, Nyla’s fingers curled around his tighter than she’d ever dared before, so what a shame that he was asleep for it.

His impromptu nap came to an abrupt end when Nyla shifted, eyes flicking open but otherwise staying exactly where he was. Oh his neck was gonna have a SERIOUS crick in it.

“Nyla?” he asked softly, “Do you need anything?”

She shook her head slowly, and he perked up to see her voluntarily moving it. “It’s mostly gone now, Master.” She sat up very, very slowly, rubbing at her neck, and Galo mirrored her from his spot on the floor. 

“Okay, that’s good,” Galo said, still speaking quietly, “Is it like, a fade-out kind of thing?”

“Yes sir,” she said, slowly stretching out her legs and wincing a little.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Sore, sir. And hungry, and--exhausted.”

She sounded tired. Galo was pretty sure he’d never heard her sound quite this tired. Carefully, watching her face for any sign of a negative reaction, he reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“I’ll get you something to eat, yeah?” he offered softly. “You can stay here and rest.”

Nyla shook her head again. 

“I can get up, sir. I don’t want to trouble you and the others will have noticed our absence and I need to walk out the stiffness and eating here would get crumbs in the bed, Master.”

Well, Galo could only really argue with one of those, but doubted Nyla would buy that she wasn’t causing him any trouble anyway. He stood, his own body protesting the movement, and stretched his arms up high above his head.

“Thank you.”

Galo glanced down, letting his arms drop, and smiled kindly when Nyla didn’t continue.

“Of course, Nyla, I’m here for you if you ever need me.” Then, because Galo was allergic to Emotional Moments, “Sooo, are we telling your friends we got abducted by aliens for the last,” he glanced at the time, “three and a half hours, or?”

Nyla giggled weakly, which, ten points to Gryffindor!

“I don’t mind them knowing, sir. It’s just when I have the migraine that I…”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Galo said. Not wanting to be seen while vulnerable.

So what does that mean that she let me? he thought with a flip in his stomach, but pushed the thought from his head.

Sasha seemed anxious when they entered the kitchen, but interestingly enough that anxiety did not seem to spike when she caught sight of Galo. Though that might have been because she simultaneously caught sight of Nyla, who was, as near as Galo could tell, Sasha’s main comfort in life. Best friend? Were they best friends? They might be best friends.

Galo wished he knew more about the lives of the people he Literally Lived With. 

“Migraine,” Nyla said with a tight smile, by way of explanation, “Master Galo helped me.”

That did successfully key Sasha up, and Galo smiled, lips pressed thin. He should leave. His presence was an intrusion and would only make them feel like they couldn’t talk freely. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then?” Galo offered, moving away from Nyla and sliding his hands into his pockets. Open. Nonthreatening. He knew when he wasn’t wanted.

“You don’t have to, Master.” Or maybe he didn’t. “I’m sure you’re hungry too, sir.”

Nyla sounded uncharacteristically nervous, but that also made sense. She was vulnerable, at the moment, fresh off a migraine and not at her absolute best.

So why was she asking him to stay, then? He wished he knew what she was thinking.

“Yeah?” he asked, searching her face and then Sasha’s, who seemed more shocked than anything. “Okay, cool. We can eat together.”

It was stiff. 

Which, yeah, expected. Nyla apparently got peanut butter cravings post-migraine, which, huh! Who knew people got cravings after demon headaches, not Galo!

Sasha did not like that Galo was there. Galo did not fault her for that one bit. Nyla was coming down off a migraine and Galo was preventing Sasha from fussing over her, and Sasha really only seemed to know what to do about him in the mornings because they’d had their nice routine and Galo really didn’t hang out in the kitchen beyond that. He should, like, dedicate some time to Sasha. Lock himself in the bathroom and let her sniff him through the door, he thought with a private chuckle to himself.

He now understood why Lilah had asked for extra kitchen stools, since there was quite literally only the one. Galo had the closest thing to an argument that he’d had, with Nyla, firmly insisting that she be the one to seat herself, then awkwardly stooped over the counter with all his bulk and height.

“Ahaha,” Galo ‘laughed’ self-consciously with a rub to the back of his head. Maybe he should’a sat after all. “Sorry, don’t mean to loom imposingly. Really, I can just… head out.”

Sasha looked away, lips thin, but Nyla’s eyes remained on him. 

“You, are not all that imposing. Sir.”

Galo blinked, and was peripherally aware that Sasha was now also looking at Nyla like she’d spouted a second head. Nyla was flushed, and staring at Galo’s shoulder rather than his face, but swallowed and continued.

“When you first arrived, the size of you was frightening, sir,” she said, her voice quiet but Galo was far too enraptured to have missed even a single word. “But you kept Barbara from stealing me, and rescued Evan, and yesterday you gave Greyson both comfort and lenience.”

Nyla reached out her hand and placed it, very delicately, on top of Galo’s on the counter, Galo’s eyes tracking the movement in a fashion that might be described as gobsmacked.

“You have always been kind to us, Master. Stay.”

“Oh,” he said, as something important clicked in place.

[honey-dewey]

(Hold me Closer) Tiny Dancer

Chapter 6

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader

Word Count: 2,377

Fic Warnings: Non-sexual age regression, split perspective, classification AU, canon-typical violence

Chapter Warnings: age regression, very faint hints of abuse, tiny little tantrums

Taglist: None for this fic. If you want to be added, just ask, but I know this is an odd topic and therefore will not tag anyone unless they ask

Jack’s not exactly the most stable human being on the planet, but when he tests as a Caregiver, all hell breaks loose as someone who was just his work partner suddenly becomes so much more.

Multi-chapter story. Chapter 6 of ? Read Chapter 1 Here

-Mojito-

The screen in front of you was dead black, no image coming up. You were about to ask Ginger if something had gone wrong when a small white light began to glow. A small pop up next to the light prompted you to use your dominant hand to poke the light. You did, a bit confused about the controls, and the light began to expand, until your eyes were filled with nothing but white.

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled, closing your eyes. “That’s bright.”

When the light subsided, you were in a completely different location. It seemed to be a small trailer with all sorts of cards on one wall. As you examined them, you noted they were all in different colors with different symbols.

On the other wall, there was a countertop with a bunch of random stuff scattered around. Empty cans, floppy discs, photographs, some wires, and a couple of other things that made you blink. You slowly reached out to one of the photographs. A pop up told you how to grip things, and you picked the photo up.

It was grainy and a bit wobbly in your virtual hand, but the image was clear enough. It was a picture of all the senior agents at Statesman, all gathered at a bar and smiling widely. You recognized Champ, Ginger, Mai Tai, Manhattan, Margarita, Merlot, and right in the middle, looking so much younger you hardly recognized him, was Whiskey.

You smiled, turning the picture over and seeing the date written on the back. Twelve years ago.

“Damn Whiskey,” you said out loud, knowing he could probably hear you. “How old are you?”

A slight chirping near you shocked you, causing you to turn and laugh. A robot, much like Wall-e if Wall-e had no bottom half, was floating at the front of the trailer. It waved, and you waved back. The robot trilled happily, getting closer to you. It pointed to the virtual photograph you’d dropped, and you picked it up.

“Do you want it?” You asked, holding the photo out to the robot.

The robot took the photo, popping it into a small projector. You grinned, stepping closer and examining the photo further now that it was bigger.

“Do you have any more?” You asked the robot, and it chirped again, pointing to a drawer. You opened the drawer, revealing more photos.

Looking up at the robot, you shook your head. “I can’t waste time buddy,” you said. “Maybe later.”

The robot nodded, opening a cabinet and taking out a small machine with a slot on the top. You nodded, grabbing the red card with the simplistic gun symbol on it and slotting it into the machine.

The trailer began to melt away, leaving you in a rather futuristic shooting range. A wall of virtual guns sat on a wall to your left, and you smiled at the robot, who was waiting patiently by the gun rack. “Let’s do this.”

-Whiskey-

Jack wasn’t the kind of person who got overly impressed by much. However, what he saw in front of him was enough to shock him.

Mojito’s view was on a TV screen in the viewing room, along with a still version of the virtual shooting range. He could see Mojito through the window in front of him, and a tiny part of him was worried about Mojito’s headspace. And then they picked up two guns off the virtual rack and started shooting.

It was a whirlwind of activity, and Jack actually had to stop watching the first TV because it was making him dizzy. Instead, he turned to the second one, watching in complete awe as Mojito took out each target. When it was all over, Mojito had shot their guns twenty six times and they’d successfully hit forty targets.

“Should I do it with another weapon?” They asked, turning to the small robot.

It chirped, holding out a hand with a red button. A pop up told Mojito they could either stay and continue shooting or go back and try another level.

They chose to try another level, looking around and eventually turning towards where Jack and Ginger were sitting. “What time is it?”

Ginger leaned towards a microphone and turned it on. “You’ve got time for one more.”

“Cool.” Mojito examined the cards on the wall, picking up a blue one with ‘Exit’ written on it. “An escape room?”

While they attempted the escape room, something Ginger promised would only take a half an hour, Jack left, heading out to pack a bag for the trip. He ended up in his office with a small bag that had a few essentials. Clothes, toiletries, a book or two, his laptop and charger, and a small travel poker set.

Then he got set on packing Mojito a bag.

It was a bit difficult. Mojito already had a bag of their own leisure clothes and going-out clothes, and their phone and books. Which meant all Jack had to do was pack a Little’s bag.

He picked up an unassuming duffle bag, carefully attracting a tag with Mojito’s name and agent number. They were traveling public, which meant Jack had to be very careful about what was packed. He’d already done his own carry-on, and Mojito had theirs, but this final bag was giving him absolute hell.

Jack ended up taking so long that Mojito finished what they were doing and came to find him.

“What is taking you so long?” They asked, knocking on the open door frame.

“Just confused,” Jack admitted, turning to Mojito. “Actually, why don’t you help me. You’ll be wearing these clothes anyway.”

Mojito walked over to stand with Jack, overlooking the clothes in the closet. “Well, grab a couple onesies. I like this one that I have on right now, but we might need some fleecyer ones. I bet Kingsman has some stuff, so if we forget some things, it’ll be okay.”

Jack pulled out a few onesies, some fleecy and some not. He automatically added socks, letting Mojito sift through the less pyjama-y clothes.

“Here.” They handed him a few pairs of folded pants. “I’ve got shoes in my bag already.”

After the pants went in, Mojito and Jack grabbed a few more shirts, two sweaters, and a set of winter accessories just in case.

“Why don’t you take the bags that are done out to the Bronco,” Jack said, looking at the mostly full Little’s bag. “I’ll be right down with this one.”

Mojito nodded and left, carting the bags down the halls. Jack immediately began to pack everything else. Diapers, pull-ups, a few toys he knew Mojito liked, books, and a soft blanket they’d gotten attached to.

In his carry-on, Jack put a pacifier and a few small toys, just in case.

“Ready?” Mojito asked, standing in the doorway.

“Ready.” Jack put the bag over his shoulder and smiled. “Let’s go.”

Their ride to the airport was easy, considering it wasn’t far. The TSA line was hellish, but it was always hellish. As soon as they exited TSA, Mojito pulled a stuffed bear out from their carry-on, gripping it tightly.

“You good ‘Jito?” Jack asked, seeing Mojito’s clearly uncomfortable face.

“Haven’t flown public in a while,” Mojito admitted. “It’s weird.”

Jack nodded his agreement. “It’s only ten hours,” he promised. “And it’s partially an overnight flight, so you can nap.”

Mojito hummed, clinging to the bear tighter. “Okay.”

The plane itself was nice, because of course Statesman wanted them to be comfortable, but Mojito kept getting more and more nervous as Jack found their seats, looking around with wide eyes until they squeaked when the plane actually took off, shaking violently.

“Mojito,” Jack murmured, taking Mojito’s hand and startling them. “Hey, kiddo, look at me.”

Mojito nodded, their death grip on the teddy bear wrinkling the clothes the bear was wearing. “Scared.”

Jack sighed, reaching across the seat divide to give Mojito a hug, rubbing their back and humming softly. “It’s okay kiddo. I hear ya, I know it’s scary.”

It took a minute for Mojito to relax. They tried moving their thumb to their mouth, but Jack was faster. He grabbed the pacifier he’d packed, offering it to Mojito, who took it hesitantly. Once properly reassured, Mojito snuggled up to Jack, sighing loosely and falling asleep quickly.

The plane ride was calm from there. No turbulence, no major issues, and Mojito woke up just as the plane was landing. They shuffled around a bit, yawning and almost losing their pacifier. Jack caught it before it could hit the floor, smiling and offering it back to Mojito, who took it happily.

Getting off the plane was a trip. Jack had done this a thousand times, but never with a sleepy Little holding his hand. Mojito rubbed their eyes, shuffling behind Jack as he collected their bags. It was a bit of trouble, lugging along three bags, but he was a Statesman. He could do it.

Eggsy was waiting for him, leaning against a car and smiling. “Whiskey.”

“Eggsy,” Jack greeted, putting the bags down and noting that Mojito was hiding behind him. Smiling, he urged them out, feeling them grip his jacket. “This shy little thing is Mojito, my partner.”

Eggsy leaned down, holding a hand out to Mojito. “Well hello there. I’m Eggsy.”

Mojito peered out from behind Jack. “Eggy?”

“Yeah!” Eggsy said, causing Mojito to brighten. “I’m good friends with your daddy.”

Immediately, Jack corrected him. “Oh no, we ain’t-”

“Daddy!” Mojito said happily from behind him, cutting him off.

Jack sighed. “Okay.”

Eggsy chuckled, leading Jack and Mojito to the car. “This’ll take us to our new headquarters. Thanks to Statesman, we were able to rebuild quickly.”

The ride was quiet. Mojito, who was completely exhausted despite sleeping for most of the flight, fell asleep practically on Jack. Eggsy and Jack talked, catching up on recent events. Apparently Eggsy had kept his title of Galahad and Harry had been made the new Arthur. They’d continued to recruit, and the position of Merlin had been filled by someone Ginger had recommended.

“We’re here.” Eggsy said, stepping out of the car and popping the trunk so he could help Jack with his luggage. Jack got out, convincing Mojito to get out too. They grumbled, rubbing their eyes and complaining.

“Shh,” Jack hushed as Mojito began to whine. “Behave.”

Mojito crossed their arms and pouted, but did as asked and stopped whining.

Eggsy took them through the building, showing them their room.

“Ginger said you had a Little, so there’s a nursery attached,” he said as he opened the door. “We haven’t got many Littles, but there are enough of them. If you want, Geraint, Bedivere, and Lamorak are downstairs. They’re our Littles. Mojito could go play while you get properly caught up. I’m sure Harry will want to talk to you.”

“I wanna go with Daddy!” Mojito insisted, taking firm hold of Jack’s coat sleeve.

“‘Jito, kiddo, why don’t you go meet the other Littles?” Jack tried. “I’m sure they’ll be much more fun than sitting in a boring room with me and Eggsy.”

Mojito turned their eyes on Jack’s face. “Don’t wanna leave you,” they said, less insistent and more fearful.

Jack’s heart hurt, and clearly Eggsy could see it too. “Why don’t we all meet in the Little’s center,” he suggested. “That way Mojito doesn’t have to leave you, but we can still get caught up.”

It was a good idea, one that Mojito accepted with no trouble. They skipped down the hall, humming some earworm from a recent disney movie. Their previous fear was long gone now that they wouldn’t be removed from Jack’s side.

The Kingsman Little center was less of a center and more of a single room. It had neutral colored walls and a soft carpet with comfortable looking furniture. There were toys scattered around, along with three Littles, all gathered around a large dollhouse. They all looked over when Eggsy opened the door, immediately crowding around him and happily cheering. Mojito whimpered and hid behind Jack, gripping his coat with surprising strength.

“Mojito?” Eggsy said, turning to look for the missing Little. “Mojito? Do you want to meet the others?”

Mojito firmly shook their head and went back to hiding behind Jack.

Jack sighed. “They’ve never met another Little, at least not that we know of.”

Eggsy nodded. “So they’re nervous?”

“Yeah, probably. I still don’t want to push it.” Jack led Mojito to the table where the adults would meet. “Mojito, kiddo, why don’t you sit here? I’m sure Eggsy can help me find some coloring pages for you.”

Mojito nodded, settling at the table and nervously watching the other three Littles as Eggsy herded them back to the dollhouse.

“I wanna sit with Eggy!” One of them said, tugging on Eggsy’s sleeve and looking desperately at the table. “Please!”

Jack sighed, meeting Eggsy’s eyes. “Fine. But you have to be quiet,” Eggsy bargained. “Our guest is very scared right now and needs you to be quiet.”

The Little nodded, eagerly grabbing a coloring book and a box of crayons and sitting across from Mojito, who shied away and gripped Jack’s coat sleeve.

“Hi,” the Little said quietly, waving at Mojito. “I’m Dew, but Eggy calls me Bevidere.”

“Bedivere,” Eggsy corrected, sitting next to Dew and smiling. “Jack, Mojito, this is Agent Bedivere, but their civilian name is Dewey.”

Dewey smiled, passing a coloring page to Mojito. “Wanna color?”

Mojito nodded, nervously taking the coloring page and grabbing a blue crayon from the pile on the table. Jack grinned, looking over as Harry entered the room.

“Ah, I see we’re all coloring,” he said, sitting at the head of the table. “Dewey, what have you got?”

“A space man!” Dewey proudly held up a half-colored picture of Boba Fett.

“And you?” Harry turned to Mojito. Mojito looked up, holding up a picture of R2-D2.

Harry smiled. “Very well done young Mojito.”

Mojito’s face broke into a grin and they went back to coloring.

“Harry,” Jack said. “Pardon my interruption, but if we could focus?”

“Apologies Whiskey,”

“Just Jack will work.”

Harry didn’t even skip a beat correcting himself. “Jack. So, what do you want to know?”

[mxndoscyarika]

Home (Mando x female!Reader)

Requested by @karnita-mexicana: “Since requests are open what would you think of a padame and anakin type of relationship with mando and the reader where the reader is the queen of a planet and they have a secret relationship going on and it’s super fluffy 🥺👉🏾👈🏾”

Author’s note: It’s finally done! Sorry this took so long, I wanted to make sure I did it justice. Enjoy!

Summary: After weeks of anxiety, you return home to find a new addition to your life.

Warnings: none

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

The Razor Crest was silent as it approached the planet of Garamonde, a planet with lush green forests spattered with some of the most advanced cities in the system. As they entered the atmosphere, Mando picked up the child and placed him on his lap. “You ready to meet someone very special, ad’ika?”

Large dark eyes looked up at him curiously.

“You better behave once we get down there,” he teased. “Ok?”

The child smiled and let out a coo.

———————————————————————

“The mines will cease operation for the time being,” you declared, seated in your throne. “It’s no longer safe for the workers. Many jobs in the development sectors will open as we continue to develop more energy efficient devices; we’ll transfer them as appropriate.”

In front of you stood royal advisors, each carrying datapads with reports on various sectors. Although they were capable of handling everything with little input from their queen, you had made it a point during your time as ruler to remain as involved as possible.

The most recent problem seemed to be the state of Garamonde’s mines. The increased snow over the recent winter meant much more snowmelt once the weather warmed up. Mines set up near the base of the mountains were at risk of being covered by mudslides and collapsing.

“But our exports-”

“Will be fine,” you reassured. “We have much more to offer than metal, and we have a duty to protect and support all workers. This is not up for debate.”

“Yes, your majesty,” they all said in unison, bowing.

Standing up, you said, “Well I guess that settles things. You’re all dismissed.”

Your gown of purple and gold flowed behind you as you strode down the hall, guards trailing slowly as usual. You never quite understood why you needed protection in your own palace.

“Your majesty!” a voice called out. You turned around to see it was Javonor Talbri, one of the advisors who’d brought up an issue with taxation. “I have the reports you wanted on this datapad. Would you like me to give them to you now, or-”

“Leave those in my study,” you quipped, continuing to walk once he caught up. Just a few more feet, and you’d be free of all the formalities and gowns “I’ll go over them later.”

“O-of course, your majesty,” Talbri replied, gripping the tablet tightly.

“I’ll be sure to have a look soon,” you said absentmindedly, entering your chambers. Closing the door on him, you finished, “For now, I have other things to attend to.”

“Of course, your majesty! Forgive any pressure I may have put upon you. I simply just-”

Sighing, you pressed a button on the control pad by the door, which blocked any sound from entering your room. Talbri was dedicated and competent, but he never shut up.

The first thing that came off was the large pin holding together your hair and jeweled headpiece. Even after years of wearing heavy headpieces and hairstyles, you never quite got used to them. At least, not enough for them to be comfortable.

You then changed into some soft pants and a long-sleeved top, both made from stretchy but durable fabric. Stiff heeled shoes were exchanged for worn-in boots with quiet soles. Digging through your wardrobe, you found your favorite cloak, a remnant of a visit to Nevarro. Well, before all the commotion began. Thankfully, it had died down since then.

In less than half of an hour, you were standing by a blue lake. Trees surrounded you, towering high and providing shade for the warm day. Spots of light littered the forest floor, much like how the buildings in the kingdom glittered during sunset. It was peaceful, but something was missing.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to calm the nagging in the back of your mind. Where was he? Did he make it out of Nevarro?

The snap of a twig behind you sends your reaching for your blaster, pointing it in the direction the sound came from. This forest wasn’t known for harboring dangerous creatures, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Hey hey hey don’t shoot, it’s me!” a modulated voice shouts. It’s Mando, and he’s got one hand flung out, the other occupied with a bundled up...blanket?

Letting your arm drop, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and placed your blaster back in its holster. You took him in, as if the mandalorian standing there could’ve been a figment of your imagination.

Fallen leaves and twigs crunched under your feet as you ran into the mandalorian’s arms, nestling your face against his neck. He still smelled like leather and the metal of the Razor Crest. The only difference was that he had new armor. Yes, finally, your Mando had come home. It was your Din. You pulled away. “I should shoot you for not sending a message to me for the past three months. Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry, I had some business to take care of,” he replied, holding you close. Well, as close as he could with the child on his other arm.

“You didn’t come home,” you murmured, placing a hand on the side of his helmet, where his cheek would be. “I was so worried. I flew all the way out here and waited for you. You never came.”

“I-I know,” he said, voice strained. “It’s a long story.” The bundle in his arms squirmed a little, drawing his attention back to it. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, cyar’ika.”

You gasped softly as the child poked its head out of the blanket, big eyes looking around at everything. The sky, the trees, Din, and you. Your heart melted as it smiled up at you and reached out. Tucking yourself to his side, you asked, “Is this what kept you away for so long?”

He nodded. “It was one of my bounties. But it’s just a kid. I couldn’t live with myself if I turned it over and walked away. So I broke it out and we’ve been on the run since.”

You frowned. “But your creed...that means it’s...”

“It’s a foundling in my care,” he answered. “And according to the creed, I’m its father now.”

You laughed softly, stroking the child’s ear with a finger. “I never thought I’d see the day that the big bad Mandalorian settles down with a baby of his own.”

“Neither did I,” he replied softly. He looked down at you, taking in your smile and the child’s newfound fascination with your jewelry. “But here we are.”

There you were, indeed. You and Din had discussed having your own children before, but recent years left both of you stranded in your own ways. Transitioning into being a queen had drained you mentally and physically, and Din’s occupation didn’t leave much room for settling down.

“You could stay here,” y/‍n offered. “This place is pretty well hidden, and in all our years of coming here, no one has followed us.”

Din sighed and pressed his forehead against yours, keeping you close with a hand on the small of your back. Even through all the layers, you could feel his warmth against your spine.

“I wish I could,” he said, voice breaking. “But I can’t put you in danger by staying here longer than a few weeks at a time. Not until I know for sure that no one is after our ad’ika.”

Humming, you asked, “Our?”

“Yes. Unless you don’t want it? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you-“

“I’m just teasing, cyare,” you interrupted, pressing a kiss to the side of his helmet. You reached over and let the child grab onto your finger. Smiling, you continued, “I always knew you had a soft spot for foundlings. Remember when you gave me that idea to reform the foster care system?”

“Every child should have a home they can return to,” he rasped, looking down at the child in his arms. “Even if they’re not related by blood.”

“Well, this foundling is very lucky to have you.” Noting the setting sun, you added, “We should get inside, you must be tired.”

The cottage was small, but it was enough for both of you. No amount of luxury or extravagance could replace the intimacy of living with loved ones. Din immediately spotted the satchel of cooking ingredients sitting on the counter, no doubt containing everything needed to make tiingilar, a traditional mandalorian casserole dish. You knew what your riduur’s line of work entailed, and home-cooked meals were few and far between. So, you and Din had eventually formed your own tradition of cooking a meal together whenever he returned to Garamonde. The only difference was that, this time, you would be joined by the child.

You still couldn’t quite wrap your head around the thought of it; that is, the fact that your Din now had a child of his own. Did that mean you would be as its mother? Or would the lack of marriage vows mean you would simply be an outsider to his new clan?

Once the food was ready, you two would sit back to back, a way of dining together while respecting Din’s religion. Until you and he were officially wed, you were forbidden to see his face. Part of you was disappointed at that, because you didn’t know how long it would be until you and Din were married; if you would ever have the chance to at all. But above all else, you respected him, and understood the gravity of the exceptions he already made for you. Sitting back to back while eating? He didn’t have to do that; he’d had to take his meals in isolation pretty much every day. But for you, he risked having his face seen. All so you could savor each other’s presence for as long as possible.

As you ate, you could hear the child’s squeals of joy and Din’s soft chuckles coming from behind you. He would say something in mando’a and imitate the sound of a speeder before feeding the child yet another spoonful of tiingilar.

“Your mother is a great cook, isn’t she?” he mused, mostly to himself. You were glad he couldn’t see you, because you felt your cheeks burn hotter than the two suns.

When it came time for the child to sleep, you two gathered blankets and pillows to line a woven basket. “I’ll have a proper bed made for him once I return to the palace,” you said quietly, not wanting to disturb the drowsy baby. “But this will work for now. Cuun ade je morut’yc.”

Our child is safe.

“Cuun ade je morut’yc,” Din repeated, his heart swelling with affection when you claimed the child as yours.

After washing up and taking off his armor, he slid under the blankets, lying on his back. The sheets rustled as you followed him onto the bed shortly. Although you both couldn’t see, you easily fell into comfort. His presence was familiar and soothing as you practically melted under his touch. You could feel his entire body relax underneath you, weeks of tension leaving him.

“You should stay,” you said softly, head resting against his chest. He was so warm and gentle, a stark contrast from the beskar armor he donned. “It’s safe here. You and ad’ika would have my entire military’s protection.”

“Even if we didn’t have our ad’ika, you know I wouldn’t be able to,” Din said, his unmodulated voice sending shivers down your spine. “Your people wouldn’t approve.”

Lifting your head to face him, you asked, “Do you really think they won’t approve?”

You cradled his face in your hands, tracing the stubble lining his jaw. The curtains in the bedroom were drawn closed to block out any light, giving Din the safety of removing his helmet. Your thumb pressed lightly against his plush lips, feeling his warm breath against your fingertip. Kissing him between each word, you pondered, “Do you really think they’ll disrespect their queen’s choice? Disrespect their king and their child?”

Din groaned softly, his hands wandering south. One arm remained secured on your hip while the other pressed you against him, sliding under your shirt. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me as your king, and ad’ika as our heir.”

[magpiemorality]

Bring It On, Moceit/Moremus, 5/5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  AO3

We’re here; the final part. The happy ending, hopefully… 

Huge thanks to @littlestr​ for the original prompts! And thank you all for following along with this fun weekend jaunt, I have come to adore these boys and they’ve outgrown the little prompt oneshot they were supposed to exist in, constantly yelling at me for more attention until now we’re here. There’s even art HERE by @sometimeswritingsometimesdying go look at it!!!! 

Without further ado; please enjoy.

Warnings: dismissal of polyamory (character doesn’t believe it’s real/feasible), swearing 

Patton Sanders was the prettiest boy in the whole college...

***

Patton Sanders was the prettiest boy in the whole college. He wasn’t being vain or anything; there had once been an online poll on the college gossip blog and he’d won hands down. It was just fact at this point. 

He was also currently (in his own internal poll) the saddest. Everything had been going so great (shut up Remy it had) and then it had taken a turn towards the endgame and then- 

Well, what had happened with Remus? Patton still wasn’t sure, and Remus was ignoring his texts so he had no clues to go on apart from the fact that one minute the boy was giving him some very upmarket salmon filets and pulling off a classing hair-behind-the-ear move that would have possibly even led to a kiss- and then nothing. Remus had suddenly… changed his mind? He’d freaked out for some reason anyway, and had just run off. 

Since then nothing, nada, total radio silence (yeah so it had only been two days so what Remy shh) and Patton was falling into despair. There had to have been a vital signal he’d missed somewhere that would have turned the whole thing around. 

Maybe the fish was a clue? 

He and Remy had spent a full evening poring over the fish. Was it a secret message? Symbolic in some way? Was there something written on it? Patton had drawn the line at trying to open it up and check the inside because he still very much wanted to save it to cook for Remus some day, so it had been rehomed in the freezer after a careful perusal of storage methods on Google. 

And there was a whole other problem now too- Dex was avoiding him. Over text, on campus, in the cafe; everywhere Patton could think of to try and run into his second paramour turned out to be a bust, and the only way (again, two days was ages Remy don’t be a bitch) he could have avoided even accidentally bumping into Dex for that long was if the other boy was actively staying away. 

Those texts went unanswered too. 

(Remy was starting to lose patience.)

“But I just don’t-”

“Oh my god gurl please don’t finish that sentence!” Patton’s very best friend and emotional support gay snapped, slamming his Starbucks cup down on the table (situated outside the cafe, so they could be seen by as many people as possible, of course). “I literally can not with you.”

Patton’s nose wrinkled. “My tutor Logan says we shouldn’t say literally when it’s not grammatically accurate.” 

“Your tutor Logan can literally suck my dick. No seriously; he’s hot, get me his number and I will consider literally forgiving you.” 

“But-”

“Baby, sugarplum, Patty-cake- for the love of all things caffeine; just take a chill pill okay? Boys will come and go in your life and if they’re worth anything at all then they’ll be back. Besides, they’re probably just duking it out over you somewhere. Maybe shirtless. Maybe there’s baby oil…” Remy trailed off with unfocused eyes, sipping his drink absently and Patton sighed, because even that nice (very nice, saved for later) image not enough to dispel his melancholy. 

He checked his phone again for the millionth time that day. Spring break was coming up and the cheer squad Whatsapp was going wild with anticipation, but Patton wasn’t in the mood. He’d foolishly hoped that one of his handsome men was going to sweep him off his feet and away to somewhere spectacular for the holiday, but that hope had tanked dramatically in light of recent developments. Normally that would’ve just made him shift his hopes towards prom, but it wasn’t enough of a big deal as it had always been in high school, and it was really more of a friends’ night out situation. Not the sort of time to be expecting big dramatic declarations of love, you know or whatever. 

No, the universe seemed to be spelling out ‘Patton Sanders is going to die alone’ pretty hard, even if Remy wasn’t in agreement. 

“Who are you texting, anyway?” Patton asked, picking at his nail polish with a pout. “Let me at least live vicariously through you until I waste away, a tragic damsel whose beauty was lost to time…" 

Remy looked up, talking around the straw in his mouth. “Jesus you’ve got it bad. And it’s none of your business, P, I’ll tell you when you aren’t moping.” The way Patton visibly and genuinely sagged seemed to revive Remy’s best friend sympathy instincts, because he quickly finished his drink, took Patton by the hands and pulled him up. “Come on cupcake, it’s the weekend and we’re going shopping. Because no matter what happens with your boys- it’s nearly Spring Break and we are gonna look hot to trot!” 

And who was Patton to disagree with such flawless logic? 

***

Maybe there was something to be said for the mystical powers of retail therapy, because when Patton flopped down on his bed that evening there was a text notification from a blocked number on his phone that made his heart beat wildly. 

It contained an invitation, to meet the following weekend at a destination that would be sent in a future text, and it was signed ‘from your not-so-secret admirer’. 

The week went by horribly slowly. Even practice seemed to drag, and yet… 

Suddenly Dex was meeting him every day with his tea again, no word of explanation but a soft smirk always hovering around his lips, lighting up his usually serious face. 

Suddenly Remus was watching and winking at him from across the gym- not approaching this time round but offering little shy waves and offering help when he could, putting away the gym equipment or offering a protein bar on the way out just as Patton’s stomach started to rumble. 

Something was up, and Patton’s head was in a spin, but it was oddly perfect. 

Even Remy couldn’t believe the change. 

“You’re totally one hundred percent sure they’re not on drugs?” Patton shot him a look. “Okay just double checking. Joined a cult? Kidnapped by aliens and replaced by pod people? Serial killers planning on luring you in an-”

“God, Remy, no!” He hit his friend with his pillow, laughing at the offended noises Remy made before he joined Patton in giggling on the bed. “No I think they just… sorted something out. It’s weird though, right? Like there’s something weird happening? Not bad weird, but…”

Remy mirrored his shrug. “You’ll have to wait and see what happens with your ‘not so secret admirer’,” he said, singing the name. “Do you have any clue which one of them it is?” 

“Well no. But surely it’s Dex? I mean, he’s Dexter, he can sort out a blocked number. It’s… Remus is a total carebear but he’s not exactly James Bond, you know? It’s got to be Dex. But he’d just out and say it, I know he would, so I don’t- I can’t be sure. Remus is the dramatic one…” Round and round in circles they went but never came any closer to solving the puzzle. 

Friday came and went and at long last it was time to head out for the grand reveal. Remy had helped him get dressed (cute but weather appropriate and with good running shoes, just in case) and they were waiting in the living room for the address to come through. 

His phone buzzed. 

Once they’d stopped shrieking in excitement they googled and found the address was of the same cafe he’d spent so much time in with Dexter over Winter break, which- it was probably not a good thing that his heart had sunk over ruling out the possibility this was Remus all along, right? It had simultaneously skipped a beat at the confirmation that it was Dex, so… You win some, you lose some he supposed. 

Crunch time. 

He hurried along the streets- glad for the tiny size of their college town and for the lack of rain on the crisp February morning- and slipped into the cafe. Only to see not Dexter O’Reilly sat inside waiting for him, but- 

“Remus?!”

***

Let it be known that Remus Duke was not the prettiest boy in the whole college, far from it. Nor was he the most intelligent, nor the richest nor the most popular. However what Remus Duke had in spades was earnest charm. It was lethal in a one on one situation, and he made sparing use of it so as not to abuse his power. 

Let it also be known that Dexter O’Reilly was far from immune to said charm, especially when it was turned on him from a few feet across a brightly coloured, messy, but shockingly cosy room in a frat house on Greek Row. If Dexter was the Slytherin here then Remus was almost certainly the Hufflepuff who would drive said Slytherin to world domination. 

In this case, of course, world domination was replaced by Patton Sanders, and the prospect of getting to date him. The concept was the same though, and the intense level of detail required to get the plan exactly right was too. 

In fact, Dex had stayed way later that night than either of them had expected, as they’d plotted and planned and discussed various ways of making their dreams reality. What Remus lacked in book smarts, he made up for with an innate talent for asking exactly the right questions to fix any inefficiencies or problems before they ever arose, and you bet Dex had made a mental note of that for future reference. 

What neither of them had really considered, was the exact reaction Patton would have when he walked in the cafe door on Saturday morning to find not just Remus, but- 

***

“And Dex!” Patton’s eyes were big and round as they switched back and forth and back and forth between the two young men. He clutched his phone in his hand like a lifeline, wondering if this was going to turn out to be the worst day of his life so far, rather than the tentative best he’d pencilled it in as… 

“Hey,” Remus smiled hopefully at him, standing up and awkwardly trying to gesture Patton to his seat like a magician’s glamorous assistant or something. Patton took pity on him and did in fact sit, still mostly set to ????? and !!!!!! and only just managing to process what was happening. 

Opposite him, Dexter crossed one long leg over the other, and Remus perched on the edge of the third chair like he was physically restraining himself from getting up to go be closer to Patton. Which wasn’t entirely untrue, as it happened. 

“Guys, what’s going on?” Patton asked weakly, looking to Dex for guidance, but it was Remus who replied. 

“Well,” he started, twisting his hands around nervously. “We ended up having a bit of a chat, last week. I um, I- oh fuck what was I supposed to say?!” Dexter snorted softly and Remus pouted at him. “You’re no help, we said we’d do this together!” 

You could’ve knocked Patton over with a feather. His mouth actually fell open at the display of camraderie. Suddenly the serial killer theory had merit. 

“Patton. Through a convoluted set of circumstances we ended up discussing our possible futures… with you. It’s fairly clear you’re struggling to choose between the two of us, right?” He waited until Patton nodded slowly. “So we thought… why choose?” 

“My brother Roman told me about this class he took last semester see, about like, changing identities or something. People, basically, and he heard about all these different things they never taught us in school! And one of them was-”

“Wait,” Patton interjected, holding a hand out because he was ninety percent sure he knew where this was going, but- “That’s real? Having… sharing partners is real? It actually works?” 

“Hey how’d you know what I was going to s-”

“Yes, darling, yes to all of that. If the people involved are honest and open and willing to work on it,” Dexter interrupted, smiling at Patton. Remus was also looking at him, nearly bouncing in his seat with excitement, overflowing with energy like always. Gosh Patton loved his energy, his enthusiasm for life, his potential, ahem, stamina… 

He turned back to Dex, only to be filled with warmth at the look he was getting, because he loved the way Dex gave him special smiles he gave no one else. He loved his soft, clever words, and his gentleness. 

Oh. 

“Oh.” There was quiet for a moment before the two hopefuls shared a concerned glance. 

“Patton?” Dexter prompted. “Is that… a good ‘oh’ or a bad one? We uh, we know it’s kinda not what you were expecting, probably?”

“And you can take your time to think about it!”

“Thank you Remus, yes. You can take your time, darling. But we would like to try this with you. However you like. And if we want to change things down the road… we can talk about that too.”

Patton was the prettiest boy in the whole college. Seemed like today he was the luckiest, too. “Yes!” He shouted, leaping out of his seat to grab them both in a hug, dragging them together forcefully. “Oh gosh, goodness, yes, that sounds perfect!” He gave them each a kiss on the nearest cheek and sat back down, cheeks red but smile bright, holding his hands out for them to take one each. 

“This is going to be so cool!” Remus crowed, and Dex chuckled softly at his exuberance, squeezing Patton’s fingers, his eyes betraying his own quiet excitement.

Yeah, Patton thought. It really was. 

--

Bonus 1 | Bonus 2 | Bonus 3 | Bonus 4

[littlesliceofmarvel]

I’m Here For You

Request: Hi! Can I please get one where the reader is friends with Steve and is introduced to Bucky. They both feel an instant connection but Bucky tries to push her away because he thinks he's not worthy of her. So she does little things like puts a blanket over him when he falls asleep and other things to make him feel more comfortable and to be there for him and help him. Then eventually it leads to them getting together (which also makes Steve very happy). Thank you!

Warnings: Swearing, HELLA FLUFF

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

A/N: Listen this idea is SO CUTE ok enjoy, it’s also really long, sorry not sorry. x

Calling Steve Rogers your best friend was an understatement, the guy was practically a brother to you. You had been his neighbour when he got his first apartment, waking up 70 years after falling under ice. The two of you grew close and when he joined the Avengers, you grew close to them as well. Tonight, he had invited you to Stark’s Christmas party because in his words, you ‘don’t party enough.’ You agreed, loving the chance to get dolled up. You wore a floor length red dress and had your hair styled very 40s - what can you say? Steve rubbed off on you. 

You stepped out of your apartment and came face to face with the soldier, who wore a clean tuxedo.

“Look at you, you stud,” you grinned at him, causing him to blush slightly.

“Me? You look amazing, (y/n).”

You winked at him and thanked him, before locking your door and making your way out of the building, calling a cab. Tony insisted on sending you guys a limo to pick you up, but that luxury was so not your style, so the two of you hopped into a cab and took off. 

Once you arrived at Stark Tower, the two of you made a beeline for the elevator and up to the top floor. Steve seemed clearly nervous about something, so you gave him a small nudge of the shoulder.

“You seem antsy, what’s up?” You smiled up at him.

“Sharon’s going to be here,” He sheepishly admitted, causing you to smirk.

“Oooooh, I see, I see,” You chuckled, “Is that why you got extra glammed up? You trying to woo her with your fashion sense?” You teased and he shook his head, laughing slightly.

When the elevator reached your floor, Steve let out a long sigh before the two of you stepped out. There were already a couple dozen people in the room, the music blasting, and a large Christmas tree stood dead center. You immediately noticed Tony standing by the window, a large crowd around him, as usual. 

“Hey, man,” Steve stuck his hand out and fist bumped a brunet who approached the two of you. His long brown hair hung in his face, and your eyes immediately went to his left arm, which was metal. This must be Bucky. You had heard a lot about the infamous James Barnes, but because of his past, he was always being monitored, so you never got to meet him.

“Buck, this is (y/n), my neighbour,” Steve grinned to you and you smiled at Bucky, who kept his eyes on you without saying anything.

“It’s really nice to finally meet you,” you smiled, “I’ve heard so many stories about you from Steve here,” you gave the blond a small nudge.

“I’ve heard a lot about you too, it’s nice to finally have a face to the stories,” Bucky smiled and you chuckled slightly. You had seen images of Bucky back in the 40s from Steve and the museum, but there’s something about him in person that’s breathtaking. His blue eyes were warm, yet cold at the same time, and his hair was quite luscious. 

“Oh, shit, there’s Sharon, what do I say?” Steve pulled the two of you closer and motioned in the direction of Sharon Carter, who you had also heard about waaay more times than you care to admit. 

“Be yourself, Steve,” you gave him a thumbs up.

“But not too much,” Bucky smirked at him, to which he rolled his eyes before walking off, leaving you and Bucky grinning at him as he approached her like a teen boy with a crush.

You turned your attention back to Bucky, “So...”

Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, Steve really isn’t that great at introducing people, I’ll do it better, I’m Bucky.”

“(Y/N),” you smiled up at him, taking in his facial features as he swooped his hair out of his beautiful face, “This must be weird for you, huh? You know, not being in the 40s.”

He nodded his head, “Yeah, it’s really something. I still wake up sometimes expecting to be back home in my bed in Brooklyn, it takes a while to adjust.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed an empty couch by the corner of the window, and nodded your head in it’s direction, “You want to go sit?” He nodded and followed you over. Once you sat down, the bustle of the party was no longer surrounding you, so maybe you could get a chance to know this guy.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Bucky asked, turning his attention to you.

You smiled, “I’m sort of in between things at the moment. I recently got fired from my job at the New York Times for refusing to write about the Avengers, actually.”

“No shit,” Bucky said, “Well, I’m sorry to hear.” He smiled at you, moving his hair out of his face once again.

“Nah, it’s okay,” you shrugged, “Boss was a twat anyways, so it was about time I got out of there.”

You sat there for another half hour, maybe more, getting to know the man in front of you. You understood why Steve was so fond of him, he was a genuine, kind man, and he had been horribly misunderstood. It broke your heart to think of how he had been treated, and you knew he deserved so much better than that. You felt a connection to him from the moment you met him, and you knew that it was something you wanted to pursue, but you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries. Bucky clearly had some personal issues he needed to deal with first, but you really wanted to get to know him.

“(Y/N)!” Steve came rushing over to you, phone to his ear, “There’s been a break in, in both of our apartments.”

“What?” You stood up, eyes wide, “Why? Who was it? What did they take? Should we go?” You waited for Steve to get an answer before pestering him with more questions.

“No, I don’t think we should,” he pulled the phone away from his ear, “They found two guys in your flat, both Hydra. They need to do a scan of the building, they say it might take two days.”

“Two days?!” You shouted, “I can’t afford a hotel, Steve, where am I going to stay?”

Steve hung up the phone and put his hands on your shoulders, “Tony’s got loads of space, don’t worry.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not going to impose on Stark, I can’t do that.”

“You’re not imposing,” Tony walked up behind Steve, smiling, “I’d be honoured to have you stay here. Fair warning, you’ll be getting the room next to mine.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Tony. But I don’t have anything except this dress, heels, and my phone.” 

Tony grinned again, “I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, done deal. See you then!” Just like he arrived, he disappeared back into the crowd and you shook your head, smiling, before sitting back down, noticing Bucky was no longer on the couch next to you. You looked around and couldn’t find him anywhere, he must have left.

-

The next couple of days went by without a hiccup. Tony got you a change of clothes, toiletries, and new shoes, keeping his promise. You stayed in the room next to Steve, much to Tony’s dismay. Across from your room was Bucky’s, who spent a lot of time in there. The past couple of days you hadn’t seen him much and when you did, he didn’t talk to you that much. You were worried that the only reason he spoke to you at the party was because he was drunk, and that in his sober reality, he didn’t actually want to talk to you.

This was keeping you up one night, and after tossing and turning for about an hour, you decided to get up and get a drink of water. You stood up and threw a shirt on, and slowly walked down the hallway, not wanting to wake anyone up. When your reached the kitchen, there was already a light on, but no one in sight, so you shrugged it off and walked over to the fridge. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a hand resting on the back of the couch, but your heart picked up it’s pace when you noticed it was a metal hand. You slowly walked towards the couch and what you saw melted your heart. Bucky laid passed out, one arm thrown over his torso and the other on the back of the couch. He clearly didn’t plan on falling asleep here as he still had his shoes on. You smiled at the sight and picked up a blanket from the back of the couch, lightly placing it on top of the sleeping soldier, being careful not to wake him.

You walked back to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water with the utmost care, not wanting to disrupt Bucky. Once you finished your glass, you turned to place it in the sink when you heard a small whimper come from the couch. Looking back, you noticed Bucky’s fingers twitching.

“No...” he mumbled, and you realized he was having a nightmare. Your heart shattered and you placed the glass in the sink before slowly walking over to the couch. His face showed signs of distress and you softly placed your hand on top of his.

“Bucky, hey, wake up,” you whispered, rubbing his hand lightly. He jumped out of his slumber and faced you, instantly relaxing and taking a deep breath once he realized it was a dream.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

You shook your head, “Don’t apologize, it’s alright.”

He smiled softly at you before closing his eyes once again, sighing, “This happens all the time.”

You smiled sadly, “I know, I’m sorry.”

He sat up and scooted over, making room for you as he didn’t take his eyes off of you, “I hate it, you know? I feel so guilty all the time, everything is my fault. People keep trying to comfort me telling me it wasn’t me, but I still have to live with the visions of what I’ve done. It doesn’t just go away.”

You sat silently, letting him vent.

“During the day I can at least try to push the Winter Soldier out of my mind, but at night, it hits me and I can’t escape it.”

You placed your hand on his metal one, causing him to tense up slightly, “Bucky, I can’t imagine how you feel about all of this, really, because I haven’t been through that, but you need to know that everyone in this building is willing to help you. We all care for you and you’ve been through enough shit to last a lifetime, and you don’t deserve that. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I really am, but I’m here if ever you need me. I helped Steve through his dark times so I’m good at that sort of thing,” you chuckled slightly and he smiled, still never taking his eyes off of you.

“You don’t need to deal with my shit,” he grumbled before standing up, tossing the blanket aside with a confused face, and starting to walk off, but you grabbed his hand and stood up too.

“Hey, you don’t deserve to deal with that stuff either, but doing it alone is so much worse than having someone there for you, I’m not going to let you suffer,” you said, eyes locked on his.

He shook his head, “I can’t drag you down with this, my guilt is too much for a lot of people, I don’t deserve someone like you to help me.”

You placed a finger to his lip to shush him, “I’m here for you, Bucky.”

He turned away from you, “No, I don’t deserve it, leave me alone.”

-

The next couple of days went much better. Steve still didn’t feel safe with you returning to your apartment so Tony agreed to let you guys stay as long as you wanted, and now that you knew Bucky well enough, you wanted to stay to help him. You often rushed to his room in the middle of the night while he had nightmares, or stayed up late with him when he was too afraid to sleep. You never left his side when he was down and Bucky will never understand how he got lucky enough to have you help him. He knew you were sad about his situation, but you kept a smile on your face around him and because of that, he felt a smile more often.

You would wake up early in the morning and be the first face he saw before going for his morning run with Steve, and when he returned, you had made them a nice breakfast. You knew Bucky didn’t take care of himself so you did it for him. He hated that you were taking up your time to take care of him, not because he didn’t like you, but because he didn’t feel worth it.

He felt himself being drawn to you, he felt a strong connection to always want to be with you, and you with him. Steve constantly asked you if there was something going on, and you’d have to brush him off before you found yourself blushing and imagining what that would be like.

It’s a night when you thought about these things the most, naturally, so you found yourself being kept awake a lot more often than you’d like. Deep down, you knew it was because you wanted to be awake for Bucky’s nightmares, but you couldn’t admit that because when you accept your feelings, it’s just a downward spiral from there.

This night, you were doing just that, and no matter how much tossing and turning you did, your thoughts didn’t drift from the mysterious soldier once.

“Miss (y/n), I sense high levels of stress coming from Agent Barnes’ room,” Friday’s voice broke your thoughts and you jumped out of bed, completely forgetting pants, and rushed across the hall to Bucky’s room. You opened the door and saw him tossing in his sleep, small groans coming from the sleeping soldier. You sat next to his figure and placed a hand on his forehead, and his eyes opened instantly.

“Fuck,” he groaned, shoving his face down on the pillow, “I’m so sorry, you need to sleep, go back to bed.”

You shook your head, smiling, “No, no, I’m not leaving just yet.”

He pulled his face from the pillow and looked you dead in the eyes, a small smile on his lips, “You’re amazing, I’m sorry. Thank you.”

You placed a light kiss on his forehead and he shivered under your touch, “I’m here for you, Barnes, remember?” he nodded, “Do you want a glass of water?”

He shook his head, “No, no, I’m alright, I have one,” he motioned to his side table where there was indeed a glass of water. You smiled down at him and started running your fingers through his hair, something that you found soothed him instantly. His eyes fluttered shut and your heart soared at the thought of you being the only one who can calm him down like this. You continued to do so for another couple of minutes until you noticed him drifting off.

“You need to get back to sleep, Buck,” you whispered, “I’m gonna go back. I’ll see you in the morning,” you started to get off the bed, but Bucky grabbed your arm and looked up at you.

“No,” he mumbled, “Can you... uh, can you stay... for tonight?”

“In here?” You asked and he nodded, cheeks slightly rosy. You grinned at him and nodded, climbing under the blankets. Your heart was going absolutely wild, and you mentally cursed because you know he could hear things like that. You tried to keep still, not showing how excited you were to spend the night with Bucky. 

Before either of you could say anything, Bucky’s arm wrapped around your torso and he pulled you closer to him so that your bodies were touching. His arm was cold - it was metal, so no surprise - but his body was extremely warm and you found yourself leaning into his touch, resting your head against his chest as he rested his head on top of yours. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your forehead, placing a light kiss to it that sent you over the moon. You didn’t answer, but you smiled up at him before cuddling back up to him. Within minutes, the two of you were fast asleep.

-

“Bucky, wake up, man,” Steve’s voice broke the two of you our of your slumber. You woke up with your head shoved in the crook of his neck, his arm around your torso and your legs all tangled within each other. Your head shot up and Bucky groaned, pulling you back down.

“Go away, Steve,” The brunet grumbled, nestling his head against yours. You were lucky that your face was covered because your cheeks felt bright red. You managed to sleep through the night in the comfort of Bucky’s arms and you really didn’t want it to end. 

“Dude-” Steve opened the door and you gasped, pulling the blanket up above your head so he didn’t see you there, “Oh, my god, I’m sorry.”

Bucky chuckled, running a hand through your hair, “I told you to go away.”

“(Y/N)?” Steve’s mouth dropped as you waved a hand at him, not daring to face him, “I KNEW IT!” he shouted with a massive smile on his face, running out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

“Ugh, that was embarrassing,” You groaned when Steve finally left, turning to face Bucky who had a look of awe on his face.

“I don’t care,” he smiled at you, “I didn’t have a nightmare. The first sleep in years that I didn’t have a nightmare.”

You shot up, a huge smile on your face, “Really? That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, Buck. That must feel nice.”

“Not as nice as sleeping next to you, I can say that,” he smirked and pulled you back down, snuggling up to you once again as the two of you drifted off. Guess your apartment was going to have to wait...

[queensdivas]

Hidden Blade Chapter 2

Did this all on a plane and a little bit today! Now that I’m done I plan on working on even more shit. Like my god has this winter break been busy af. But I hope you enjoy the new chapter because it was a little longer than I wanted it to be. 

Whoops. 

IF you would like to be tagged please let me know!

Next Chapter

Previous Chap

Masterlist 

Have you actually ever watched an episode of Leave it to Beaver? What even is that show? I get watching like Little House on the Prairie, M*A*S*H (God I love Mash) and even I Love Lucy. But it feels like this dude one loves his family shows. Don’t really see why but who the heck else knows in this crazy world. 

I walked into one of the trailers to see a very large English Mastiff come from around one of the shelves to start sniffing me. Slobbering all over my legs since wearing shorts instead of jeans or some sort of Eddie Bauer travel pants. 

“That’s Wally. Careful his slobber goes everywhere.” Four was flipping through a pile of passports as I looked at the wall that was covered with pictures, news articles, and maps. It kind of reminds you of that meme where the dude looks completely insane while trying to explain something. I sat down on one of the desk chairs that was empty as I noticed Leave it to Beaver was playing. 

“Did he get you hooked into it as well?” I leaned back as I noticed a large file that had Murat Alimov with a big red CIA stamp on it. Juicy! 

“So how come the people of Turgistan hasn’t revolted against the dick hole in charge?” Four asked as I opened the file to see his picture. 

“They need someone to get behind in order to start the revolution. Ya know. Someone to get behind. The French got behind Maximilien Robespierre, the people in South America had Simon Bolivar, and the list goes on and on. So without someone to properly lead them, what’s the point of starting a revolution when you don’t have someone to lead.” I began skimming through his file to see that THE STUPID AMERICANS GAVE HIM BACK TO HIS BROTHER!? Never let them do anything!!

“So how did one find you?” He asked as I closed the file then threw it on the desk. 

“Ummmm. God it was really weird and very ummm..perfect timing I should say.” Wally came over to put his head on my thighs as I began scratching the top of his head. 

“I travelled to Ahmedabad after the Assassination in South Sudan where I planned on shutting down a board of nasty men who were shipping child brides all over the world. Yet something that I have a nasty habit of is trying to put on shoes way bigger than mine!” 

8 

“ALI RUN YOUR ASS!” Screaming as I turned the corner that was leading towards the great hall of the palace. Ali came behind as guns began shooting at us from the top of the stairs. The front doors burst open as I darted to the left. 

Ali followed swiftly behind me as we slid into one of the living rooms to duck behind a couch. I released my mag to see I had eight rounds left, and we have to battle an entire palace full of guards! At Least the board is dead so that stops this nasty shit in this house!

“Ali! There’s a drop through the dining room that leads into the river!” I yelled over the gunfire as he checked his mag to count his bullets. 

“I got six! I’ll keep you covered!” He popped his head up to shoot one of them coming into the room. I popped up to shoot another guard as more came through the front door. God damn it we’re screwed! 

“You get your ass out of here now!” Ali screamed as I crawled over to where he was bunkered down and handed him the rest of my mags. 

“You follow me alright!” Grabbing a bottle of scotch then ripping apart of the sofa for the rag. I stuffed it, shook the bottle then pulled my lighter out of my pocket. I lit it then chucked it over to the middle of the great hall. 

“GO GO GO!” I yelled as we got up from behind the couch towards the window. He smashed the glass as I stuck my head out to see the drop. Jesus Christ that’s a little too high. Fuck fuck!

I climbed up onto the window ledge as I was about to jump as Ali began climbing up but was stabbed in his back. 

“SHIT ALI!” With his last bit of energy he pushed me off the ledge.

Sitting in my apartment as I stared at the picture of Ali and I during our weekend trip to El Arish. The one time I think it;s okay to work with a partner we end up becoming best friends and he gets stabbed in the back! Don’t worry I’m not one of those people who are like “I work alone since everyone I’ve loved has died!” Usually it’s too much work to have a partner or some sort of companion when it comes to this kind of work. 

Someone lightly knocked on my door as I pulled out my dagger to slowly approach the door. Fuck fuck who knows I live here? Looking through the peephole to see some GAP looking guy standing right infront of the door. Swinging the door open as it scared him a little bit till he held up his arms towards me. 

“Relax Machete. If I wanted to hurt you I wouldn’t have knocked on your door would I?” That’s what most people thought in the seventies and look how many people died because they thought this was...as I opened the door for this stranger.  

“I promise I’m not here to hurt you or anything. May I come in?” I can handle myself I think so if he tries something I’ll kick his ass. I lowered my dagger a little bit to move out of the way for him. He came into my apartment to look around in my little hole in the wall. 

“Cozy.” I followed him on the other side of the room. 

“Good idea. Keeping a safe distance from me. Which is why I’ve been looking at your field work. What you did in South Sudan and recently in Jordan. Quite impressed that they haven’t tracked you down yet.” He stared at the large replica painting of The Virgin on the rocks. 

“Love some Da Vinci paintings.” He acts like a much calmer Deadpool, also not as sarcastic as him. 

“So. Who are you? A rich person looking for security, I’m not a hitman so I’m not going to kill someone for ya. Drink?” I made it to the liquor shelf as I grabbed the bottle of Shieldaig Speyside. 

“No thank you.” He walked away from the painting then over to my original Pierre Mignard. See when you shut down a nasty group of people, I wanted this picture of some random women. I stood away from him still as he turned around, I took a sip of the drink as I waited for him to explain himself. 

“I get the feeling you enjoy killing those who want to cause harm onto the innocent. You wanna know what I see in you? I see someone who's willing to do some crazy shit in order to save the world. I mean you just jumped out of palace after destroying a child marriage cult. What if I could give you an endless amount of resources, even more targets, and more hands?” Definitely some better resources would be nice. But there is always some sort of catch in this situation. 

“You’re exactly what I’m looking for. Someone who isn’t afraid to truly get their hands dirty to save the world.” I do enjoy saving little parts of the world. 

“Now imagine taking down even bigger ass holes of the world.” Am I finally going after all of North Korea? God I really wanna destroy that pig with all my mighty! 

“So what’s the catch exactly?”

“You’ll be dead and can’t ever see your loved ones again.” Well jokes on this dude, haven’t seen my family in years and they probably thought I was dead anyhow so this works perfectly! 

“I’m in. Don’t worry about my family because they think I’m dead anyhow.” I walked over to him to shake his hand. 

“How the fuck he found you is still bizarre. Still have no idea how he found me in the middle of a robbery.” Wally began walking away as I put my feet on the desk. Now I’m super curious how he met the rest of them now since he ended up stalking me. 

“How did he find you?”

He began telling me how the robbery he was apart of turned into a shit hole of a plan for his ex girlfriend to basically take the jewels instead of saving him. Doesn’t surprise me in the slightest because hoes be loyal. His eyes...are just so damn enticing. The way the sun brightens them reminds you the top of a forest. A very endless forest before you. That little scar next to his eye is just very nice to look at as well. Kind of weird but I enjoy it. Does he have knuckle tattoos? (For the record I am listening, it’s called multitasking.) 

“Jesus he set you in a saw trap?” He reached into the mini fridge for two bottles of water since the sun was warming up the trailer like a sauna at this point. 

“Yet here you are getting a calm welcome when I thought the guy was going to blow off my fucking face.” He slid the water across the desk as I cracked it open. Wally and his drool began sniffing the water bottle as I tried to drink it. 

“But he did save my life after the fall so that’s the only good thing that happened that day.” He chugged some of his water as I nodded in agreement. 

“Wally. Wanna get my soldiers out and have a battle.” Beaver asked Wally as The next episode of leave it to beaver began playing so I turned my focus towards the tv. 

“Nah.” Wally told Beaver. Four turned up the TV as I noticed a box of Cheez-its next to the desk. I’ve heard these things very good for most American snack food.

“Four we’ve scored!” I yelled as I began opening the box of Cheez-its. Back to the show. We watched as Wally and his friends were tackling each other with Beaver stuck underneath them all.

“Poor Beaver. Such a sweet little kid.” I stuffed a bunch of cheez-its in my mouth then passed four the box. 

“One is completely obsessed with this show, he makes all these references for it all the time. I think he’s an orphan actually, we got a little bet on it if you wanna put some money in.” Now that I think about it, I can totally see one being some sort of orphan or in the system. 

“Forty dollars.” I reached in my pocket to pull out my wallet, grabbing a couple of fives handing it to him. I know we should be working on finding his brother, or doing some sort of work but this is much more fun. 

“Wait they’re gonna charge Beaver three dollars just to join their club? I get that hanging out with little siblings can always be some sort of bother but wow what ass holes. Imagine being that cruel.” I commented as I threw a Cheez-it at Wally's friends after the tv. 

“Man. A time when your six year old son could talk to a random stranger asking on how to make money.” Four and I chuckled as Beaver came walking out of the garage with his “this space for rent sign” on him. I mean he’s trying harder than most people in this world so I have to give him credit where it’s due. 

“You two done? C’mon. Three thinks he onto something.” Five stuck her head into the trailer as Wally walked away from me as he kept to box of cheez-its with him. 

We walked into the trailer as three was listening very closely to a phone conversation as one and seven were talking to each other. I get the feeling that shit is about to go down if three finds the location of the four generals. 

“His top General knows the location of him so once they leave Turgistan for something, we go after them and figure out where the brother is.” One told seven as I began looking at the four pictures of the fuckers themselves. 

“You ever met people like them?” One asked as I kept staring at their pictures. Four handed me a box of Cheez-its. 

“I mean all monsters of humanity are usually either fat, old, or a man. Hell even all three for some massive destruction if history says anything. Or they have weird facial hair like Stalin or Hitler. Except for Elizabeth Bathory because that bitch was truly...

“Guys. Shut the fuck up.” Three barked as his face went from focused to ecstatic in a matter of seconds. 

“AH we’re going to Vegas baby!” Three laughed as he put their conversation on speaker. 

“This arms dealer will be meeting you at the speedway track around two for the deal.” God this is disgusting. Instead of trying to make our country a better place, go to Vegas to fuck some slut, spend your money, and to add on top of that get some dangerous chemicals so we can kill more people. Love it! 

“Las Vegas has more facial recognition software than any place on Earth.” One began telling two and three as I began turning down the volume of their conversations. 

“Oh I know what I’m gonna be!” Get this sinking feeling he loves dressing up. 

“Choose your disguises wisely.” Disguises? I have to dress up? If they think I’m going to wear a pencil dress, twelve inch heels, and a face full of makeup I will leave right now! 

“I’m a grown man, I can handle my shit.” 

“I don’t think that’s how the expression goes, don’t handle your shit. Flush it down the toilet like a grown-ass man. Be subtle. Blend in. Disappear. Me, two, and three are going to figure out where on earth they’re hiding his brother. Eight and four I want you two to intercept the gas, destroy it all, find the supplier and eliminate him. Sounds easy enough?” Yes. Going into Las Vegas, finding a bunch of illegal gas, destroy it, and be home by five. Definitely easy. 

“Just one question. How do you even destroy Sarin gas? Look I’m a pretty smart lady but destroying gas is something I’ve yet to achieve in my life one.” 

“Here. Study this before we leave for Vegas. Ya got 24 hours to nail it.” He slid a book across the table. 

How to Disable Sarin Gas Bombs for Dummies. 

Written by a Genius.

Handwritten and in a bright green binder. Glad to know we make handcrafted things in this squad. I opened the binder as it showed a step by step on how to disarm them. Kind of like when you’re building a lego set. Except instead of joy you get when you’re trying to build a spaceship, you end up pissing your pants because one fatal mistake and we die! 

“Love the homemade touch one. Very professional and doesn’t make me want to shit my pants in absolute fear.” I picked it up as we began dispersing.

“I’m just gonna take this with us. Rather us not die.” Telling four as I handed him the binder for him to start skimming through the binder. Gotta love the fact that my first mission with these guys is disarming a bunch of chemical bombs. Getting that sinking feeling again that they’re a bunch of chaotic people doing chaotic things. 

It’s absolutely perfect.

Taglist: 

@bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @imjustboredso @intoanothermind @4lendow-norris @wickedholland @takemetoneverland420​ @raylan-c​ @itsmeaudrieee​ @leah-halliwell92​

[koalataeil]

Whimper

Pairing: cheater!Ten x side chick!Reader (fem)

Genre: Angst, smut

Words: 2k

Summary: Based on the lyrics of Whimper by Microwave. Ten needs a distraction from his abusive girlfriend. You need a distraction from your mess of a life. Why not be each other’s distraction?

Warnings: sex, swearing, domestic abuse (physical) mentioned, drug use/abuse mentioned

A/N: This is a little messy and the smut is definitely not the best but I hope you enjoy either way :)

The chilly wind whipped past your thin clothes and chilled your body as you stood outside his apartment. You shivered, checking your phone for the time for the twentieth time, waiting for Ten to return. Despite waiting in the frigid temperature, you knew you wouldn’t be able to turn around and head back home, no matter how long he’d make you wait. This needed to happen for both of you, just like every week.

“Shit, sorry,” He’d mumbled walking past you and leading you into the warm apartment. You didn’t respond, knowing the real feelings behind his words. More of a filler than any actual emotion. His winter jacket swished as he rushed to his apartment. Joo, Ten’s roommate Johnny’s dog, whimpered once you entered. You gave her a quick pat on her head before you took off your jacket and shoes. Ten’s winter coat was on the floor, slippers already on his feet as he shuffled to put the rest of his work stuff to a place where he’d remember it in the morning.

His faded blue-collared shirt taunted you as you watched him. For anyone else, this silence would cause awkward chuckles or fumbled small-talk, but you both remembered the unspoken rules of your relationship. You were distractions for each other. There wasn’t support between you two during this time.

Ten glanced into your eyes before starting to mess with the buttons of his work shirt and heading into his bedroom. You followed behind with your body in autopilot. The soft shut of the door triggered you to remove the t-shirt you had thrown on before leaving the house and your bra. Ten had now unbuttoned his shirt, it hanging open with his chest and stomach exposed as he turned towards you. Your icy hands reached for his toned stomach as the desperate make-out session began. 

Teeth clashed together messily as you moved together. His hands cupped either side of your face, pulling you that much closer to him as your hands worked to unbutton his work pants blindly. You palmed him over his boxers, earning a low moan. You could feel him getting harder in your hand as you continued to make out.

Ten pulled away, a quiet ��f-fuck’ leaving his mouth, and he quickly removed your pants and panties. He pushed you onto his bed, removing his own pants and boxers before he joined you. 

He kissed down your neck, nipping at multiple spots to leave marks that you’d later have to cover. One of his hands reached between your legs and two fingers entered you. You moaned, grinding down on his fingers. Wanting more. Needing more. Ten continued to tease you with his fingers, a smirk on his face as he watched you desperately trying to get more.

“Ten, please just fuck me already!” you whined, annoyed at the teasing.

“All fours,” he commanded, reaching into his nightstand and retrieving a condom. He rolled it on as you followed his command. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining himself up with you, his hand strongly grasping your hip. He pushed himself in, you both moaning at the new position. His other hand grabbed your other hip, using your hips to fuck you onto him. Your ass and thighs slapped with his thighs as he sped up his thrusts.

“Shit Y/N, you feel so good wrapped around my cock,” Ten moaned.

“I- I’m close,” you somehow said between moans. 

Ten used one hand to grab your hair and the other to play with your clit. He pulled your hair so you were on your knees, back against his chest as he continued to thrust into you. You let out a throaty moan as he skillfully played with your clit. 

“F-fuck Ten,” you moaned as you came, clenching onto his cock. He kept thrusting into you, helping you ride out your orgasm. He planted more kisses to your neck.

He pulled out when you came down from your high, jerking himself off until he came in the condom. His moaning rang in your ear as you watched his face.

He unrolled the condom and threw it away after recovering from his orgasm. You’d lay down on the bed, watching him again, noticing a dark mark on his ribcage and a small, lighter mark on his hip. Your heart sank, but you couldn’t show any emotion concerning the marks. It wasn’t your business.

Ten threw a pair of shorts on before he left to get a glass of water. Returning to his room, he smiled a little at you before he joined you in the bed.

Ten wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you lay your head on his bare chest and your legs intertwined with his. There was no noise other than the heater above the both of you. The bruises on his ribcage and hip wouldn’t leave your mind, no matter how many times you tried to get yourself to forget it.

‘Don’t get involved,’ You reminded yourself.

///

“You should know that I have a girlfriend,” Ten confessed, his voice weak and deep from the activity that had recently ended. Your eyes widened as you processed the words, your finger freezing from where it was drawing on his bare stomach. You’d been nuzzled up against his warm body, legs entwined together, just enjoying each other’s presence after sleeping together for the first time.

“You have a girlfriend?” you asked, questioning if you heard wrong.

“Yeah,” Ten admitted.

You sat up, searching the room for where he’d tossed your shirt and pants. Once you found them, you got out of bed to get dressed.

“Don’t leave,” Ten almost begged.

“You have a girlfriend for fuck sake. Why did you just fuck me?” Your body was hot from embarrassment and frustration as you got fully dressed.

“Long story,” he answered. You couldn’t help but let your heart tug as you saw the sorrow in his face. You decided to stay and listen to his story despite your brain telling you to leave and never look back. This was not something you needed to worry about now, but you just got yourself involved.

“My girlfriend has had a problem with drugs and alcohol for a while now. She’s a completely different person when she uses and she’s terrifying. These bruises are from her after she snorted cocaine and drank. She took out her anger on me.”

“Why are you still with her?” your voice coming out quieter than you intended.

“I can’t be without her. I need her,” he started. “She apologized and they’re healing just fine. She wants to get better. She promised she’s going to get better.”

“But if that’s what’s going on, why cheat on her?”

“I just need an escape.” Ten’s voice became a whisper. “I just need a distraction.”

“Me too.”

///

Ten’s heartbeat and soft breathing were calming and silenced your mind for only a few seconds before the thoughts came back.

‘I thought he said she was clean. Why are there so many bruises again?’

///

“She promised that she was going to get clean. She said she won’t mess it up this time.” Ten stated, trying to convince himself more than you about her empty promise.

“She’s told you that every time,” you reminded. “How do you know this time is it?”

Ten winced slightly at your words. He knew you were right, but that didn’t make it any less painful. “Because she hasn’t hit me in a month.” His eyes were darting to various spots around the room to keep away from your own eyes. There was no way he could keep himself from getting emotional if he was looking directly into your eyes.

You both sat in silence, the long-forgotten music playing through the speaker keeping the room from being deafening. Your mind wandered like it always did around Ten. He confused you more than anyone else, but you didn’t have any right to judge him as you were just as confusing.

Why were you still messing around with a guy in a relationship? Where went all of your morals and self-respect? Can’t you get your own boyfriend? Why do you keep crawling back only to be hurt again?

The answer was simple. You needed Ten as much as he needed you. He served as a distraction from your messy life. You couldn’t get a job, even after applying to over 20 positions. You were barely passing your classes, despite asking for help and getting tutors. Your mental health deteriorating over the past few months to the point you barely were able to get yourself to do much of anything. The only thing that kept you stable was meeting with Ten every Tuesday night after he got off from work.

“This is the longest she’s gone without going back to the drugs,” he mumbled. “I think she means it this time.” You rolled your eyes, having heard the same excuse so many times before.

“Then why am I still here?”

You knew it was uncalled for and shouldn’t have been said but you couldn’t bite your tongue and longer. If his girlfriend wasn’t using or hurting him, what was the point of having you around? Why should you keep coming over only to keep hurting?

“If she’s clean and not hurting you then why am I still here, Ten?”

Ten bit his lip, thinking carefully about how he was going to go about answering this question. “I- I can’t answer that. I don’t know.”

You sat in silence once again before you had enough and went back home to be left with your feelings and racing mind.

///

“Why did she hit you again?” You mumbled despite your best efforts to keep it to yourself.

Ten’s breath hitched at the question, from both the breaking of the silence and the question itself.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that. I overstepped. I’m sorry.”

“She relapsed,” his voice full of sorrow. You nodded, knowing this was going to happen again.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” your heart ached as you wished you could hug him, comfort him, take his pain away. But you’re just the girl he fucks once a week. You’re not his girlfriend despite the thoughts of becoming his girlfriend. Thoughts of treating him the way he should be treated. “Did you forgive her?”

Ten remained silent, bringing your attention to his face. He was worn out with so much on his plate and mind. No amount of sleep would bring him back to his happy and energetic self. That Ten was gone. He nodded.

“I don’t know how you can keep forgiving her,” you mumbled, frustrated at the girl regardless of never meeting.

“This is the last time.” Ten promised.

You nodded in response, acting like it was really the last time this would happen although you knew better.

“I’m going to sleep, I have work in the morning.” You nodded once again in response.

You tried to find any way of getting some much-needed sleep, but your mind continued to go a thousand miles an hour. Once you noticed he fell asleep, you sat up in bed, moving further away from him. You watched his sleeping form while you tried to calm your thoughts. 

‘Why can’t he fall for me? I would treat him so much better. I would love him more than she ever could. I would never hurt him. Why can’t he give her up already? What would she think of me? What if she found out about this?’

‘Why do I keep coming back? I need to make this time my last. I can’t keep doing this to myself. I have to say goodbye tonight.’

But when you curled back up to his side to fall asleep, you knew you would come back next week. You would keep this going as long as possible because you can’t say goodbye to Ten. He’s the only constant in your life. You both need each other. You can’t say goodbye because you’re waiting for him to finally end things with his girlfriend. You’re waiting for him to fall for you, even though you know he doesn’t love you. He’s just using you. 

But you can’t say goodbye.