#In later years I had to wear a long sleeved sweater and gloves in all weather there

[chickenpeep77]

Me when I have contamination OCD and have to touch a doorknob in public but I have nowhere to wash at the moment and I just have to deal with it for a while

[isfjmel-phleg]

There are two versions of Al Pratt's backstory in its entirety: the original in All-American Comics #19-20, which appeared in October-November 1940, and a revised and expanded version in Secret Origins 1986 #25, from April 1988.

And one could compare these stories and make observations about what they say about the cultures of their respective eras, or the adaptation choices of the later version, but I'm not going to do that (now?). Something that stood out to me was the differences in costuming choices for Mary James between the original, which depicts her in what would then have been contemporary clothing, and the retelling, which filters early 1940s clothing through the lens of the 1980s.

Mary first appears when Al meets her out walking, presumably on or near their college campus. She is wearing clothing suitable for a collegiate young woman of the early 1940s: an orange fitted short-sleeved sweater, a green plaid skirt, orange ankle socks, and green saddle shoes. The silhouette of the skirt is closer to that of the 1930s than what it would become in the 1940s (1940 is still early in the decade, so styles would still be transitioning); it is fairly narrow and flares out toward the hem, extending past the knees. Skirts later in the decade would rise to knee-length to conserve fabric and would develop a more A-line shape.

The 1988 retelling similarly depicts her in a sweater and skirt. This long-sleeved sweater is reasonably comparable to styles of the day, but note how the skirt silhouette differs. It is a similar length but a much fuller A-line/circle shape. This is more like styles of the late 1940s and the 1950s than the distinct flared column shape of the 1930s that lingered into the earliest years of the 1940s. The bow design on her heels is typical of the 1940s, but the spiky heels are about a decade too early. 1940s heels were thicker.

The choice to put her in heels instead of the original saddle shoes not only reinforces the ultra-feminine look that the saturated magenta and purple color scheme gives but also further emphasizes the height difference between Mary and Al, which is a major point in this scene.

There aren't very good views of the suit that Mary wears during the kidnapping (can't be a Golden Age love interest without being kidnapped at least once, of course). But it appears to consist of a green waist-length jacket with a rounded collar and buttons to the neck, paired with a matching skirt in the flared column shape. Her shoes are not visible, and she has no hat (normally part of such attire), probably because she was forced to leave the house suddenly. Again, this style hearkens back more to the late 1930s. Later 1940s women's suits had a boxier, wide-shouldered silhouette.

The 1988 retelling gives Mary a relatively more active role in this scene and a more detailed costume. Her yellow suit jacket reaches the hips and flares out in a peplum, with pockets, and her skirt is still quite full. She also wears a black collared blouse with a white tie. I couldn't find photo references of such ties worn with women's suits at this time, the skirt is the wrong shape, and the heels shouldn't be stilettos, but otherwise this costume isn't too far off-era.

It's worth noting that 1980s fashion took some inspiration from the 1940s. This suit probably woudn't have looked out of place in 1988.

At the college's ball, Mary wears a red evening gown that continues to show the influence of the late 1930s. It is bias-cut, flared at the hem, puff-sleeved, and low in the back. These styles were still seen in the very early 1940s.

Whereas in the 1988 retelling, she wears a much shorter magenta dress with a voluminous skirt and sleeves, frills at the waist and neck, a sash tied in a giant bow, and loose-fitting elbow-length gloves.

This is a 1980s prom dress. No one was dressing like this in 1940. Everything about this is incorrect.

Even by 1980s standards, this is an oddly juvenile choice of costume (plunging neckline notwithstanding) for a character who is a college-aged woman from a high-class family to wear to a formal event with an ostentatiously valuable diamond necklace. But the retelling's narrative does make a point of Mary's needing to "grow up a bit" (since in both versions of the story she's a rather unpleasant 1940s stereotype of a female love interest harshly critical of the soon-to-be hero), so maybe this style is meant to emphasize her immature behavior.

There's not really a point to this, I just have an interest in historical costuming, and I find it interesting how noncontemporary clothing is interpreted by artists who are probably more accustomed to drawing their own eras. This 80s-does-40s depiction is about the same distance of time that we currently are from the 1980s. Would a present-day depiction of the 1980s be likewise steeped in current aesthetic sensibilities? Quite possibly.

[heyyallitssatan]

I have made a fic

Theres the ao3 link if you want it, and the fics under the cut

She was always cold these days.

Frozen limbs, a sheen of frost always coating rarely uncovered skin.

It used to hurt, being so cold all the time, but it didn’t anymore. She didn’t feel it anymore, she didn’t feel much of anything anymore. All her emotions, frozen over, a thick layer of ice exacting them, never to be released.

It hadn’t always been like this. Once, she felt things freely, she felt her hands and toes and her lips weren’t permanently purple.

But that was before, before her mother burned her baby brothers face, before she was dragged off to a mental hospital kicking and screaming, before she gave her life to her brothers, before she became the mother hers could never be, before her life became theirs. But most of all, it was before Touya, her other half, her twin, her warmth, died in a blaze that left behind only a too small jaw bone.

Now was different, now was now, and now she was always too cold.

Her toes were the first to go, probably, but her fingers were the first she noticed.

It had been a year since Touya’s death, she was pouring her father tea when she dropped the pot and broke the cup. Her hands were numb, they always were since that night, and she couldn’t keep a hold of it. She was scolded, and disciplined, for her mistake. She spent hours relearning ho to hold a tea pot so that it didn’t matter if she could feel it or not.

It was almost a full year later when she realised it was her hands and feet she couldn’t feel anymore, she could move them, feel the movement, but she couldn’t feel touch, or warmth, or anything but that numbing cold climbing up her arms and legs.

She stopped using her quirk to do things after that, vowed against it, but it didn’t help. Frost slipped from her numb fingers to crystallise on her glass, her socks froze to the tatami mats of their home, and she didn’t notice.

She learned to watch her hands, and her feet, wherever she went, making sure she kept a fight hold of her quirk.

Her breath was next. She didn’t notice until Natsuo mentioned that her breath was clouding by her mouth, just too cold for the air. She checked, and realised her lips had turned purple at some point, nothing extreme, just a tint to her lips that wasn’t quite natural. She realised her skin had taken on an unnatural blush. She was sixteen when she started wearing make up.

She was twenty now, and the numbing cold had climbed up her arms and legs. Everything below mid thigh and shoulder was numb now. She had taken to always wearing thick covering clothes. She wore thick pants and long skirts no matter the weather. Sweaters and long sleeve blouses in the middle of summer. She had always been cold natured, no one noticed.

No one noticed, until she started wearing gloves. They were nice, expensive, and specially made to keep out the cold. If they could keep it out, they could keep it in. People noticed, gloves were too weird, but she was always cold, maybe it was okay.

She couldn’t keep her hands from frosting over anymore, and they always looked a bit blue, she thought that was more worrisome than gloves.

She was right.

She had taken to the hottest showers she could get, and when that wasn’t enough to warm her limbs, she went further. She had the body for a fire quirk, the heat couldn’t hurt her. She started boiling water in the middle of the night, when everyone else was long since asleep, it wasn’t like she could join them anymore. She was always careful to take the kettle of the stove before it could squeal, she cared infinitely more that her brothers got enough sleep than if she got warm. She’d finally take her gloves off, and pour the water over her hands in the sink, fill a small tub to set her feet in, all the while rising steam warmed her lungs.

It was as close as she could get to being warm again. It was as close as she could get to Touya again. Though, she supposed his body was just as cold as hers now. Those were dark thoughts, thoughts she only gave voice to on late nights like these, when no one was around to see the tears freeze to her waterline.

She was always cold, always numb, but she could still feel some things. Love for her brothers, all of them, was the first thing on that list, and sometimes the only thing.

Tonight was one of those times, when she was watching her Father and her baby brother fighting Touya. That was Touya, he was alive. He was alive.

That was all she could think about, he was alive. She lost control of the frost, it was covering the floor her feet were on, the couch she was sat on, little bits of it had started creeping up Natsuo.

She didn’t notice until he yelled at the cold. What did he know about the cold?

For the first time in a long time, her ice cracked.

She couldn’t bring herself to care that he was a villain, she couldn’t care about all the people he’d killed in the process, she couldn’t even herself to care that he’d attacked their Father.

She cared that he’d attacked Shoto of course, but that could be addressed later, after she’d seen him in person, confirmed it was really him, that he was really alive.

She never let herself consider it before, not even in the dead of night when no one was around to see the tears that never fell, it was the only thought she could never let herself give a voice to.

But it was true, he was here, he was alive.

He was gone again.

He left after the stunt, as quickly as he came. But she knew he was alive now, she found him once, she could find him again.

She hated her Father most of the time, deep down under cracking ice that let thoughts like that seep through now, but she couldn’t argue that his connections were helpful, and so was his money. She could afford to pay them to help her, and then to pay them again to keep silent. She couldn’t tell anyone what she was doing, Father would be so angry, and so would Natsuo. She didn’t know how Shoto and Rei would react, but she couldn’t risk that they’d tell the others, she had to do this alone. But what else was new.

She found him easy enough, about two weeks later. It was easy enough she didn’t think he was really hiding anymore. If he didn’t want to be found he wouldn’t have, he proved that many many years ago.

She sent him a message, through a hired hand, telling him to meet her at a nearby cafe, one considered neutral ground, where heroes and villains and vigilantes could meet without worrying about sides and fights. It was safe for them.

He met her there, he expected she’d been the one to send the message, the only one who would’ve wanted to meet him, the only one brave enough, even if she never saw herself that way.

He saw her, sitting at a little two person table with a coffee in hand. She drank too much coffee when they were younger, after Rei was taken, and he can’t imagine she dropped the habit, and if the shaking of her hands is any indication, it’s only gotten worse.

He sat down next to her, and she stared at him for a minute, not saying a word, but she didn’t smile at him, not a rare real smile that she showed only in the safest most vulnerable moments, not even the fake smile she used to placate Enji and calm Natsuo and Shoto. They never noticed, never noticed that that smile didn’t make her eyes twinkle quite the same, didn’t make her nose scrunch up just a bit. It fooled everyone else, but he had been there since she was born, he grew up with that smile, and he knew the difference.

Now she only watched him, and him her. She pushed a coffee toward him, and he broke his gaze just long enough to take a sip. He judged her coffee habit, but he wasn’t much better, at least when they younger, and she knew his order by heart.

That wasn’t his order, at least not his old one, rather it was closer to his order now. A White Russian, and it looked like she was sipping on the same.

“Since when do you drink?”

“Since Shoto and Natsu left and it’s just me and dad in the house.”

He huffed a humourless laugh, and so did she. Frosty breath fogged in front of her as she did, and that’s when he took note of the thick sweater, and winter pants, and gloves, all in the middle of August.

He was always hot, and honestly he was itching to get out of the meagre layers he was in now. He didn’t know why she was wearing so many thick layers, sure she was always cold, but he was pretty sure she was never ‘parka in summer’ cold. When he said as much she just huffed another laugh and shrugged.

He grabbed her hand, and she flinched, and that almost hurt, but it wasn’t the flinch of a civilian who just got grabbed by an S rank villain, it was the flinch of an abused little girl that hadn’t expected anyone to touch her. Scratch that, it hurt worse.

He wasn’t a family man, he hated Rei for abandoning them, He hated Enji for obvious reasons, he didn’t quite hate Shoto, but he was certainly angsty that he replaced him, and at best he felt indifference towards Natsuo. For some reason, he could never find it in himself to hate Fuyumi. Even at the lowest, when he hated the entire world, he couldn’t hate her. He could only remember how she patched his wounds, cooled his burns, loved him through everything, despite everything. He didn’t have room in his charred heart to live anymore, but she was spilling over with it, love for her brothers, her students, anyone who walked through their home. She even found it in herself to love some part of their parents, a part long gone, but she remembers it, loves it.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever be that strong, that brave. He left, he was a coward. But she stayed, protected her brothers, took care of them, carried the burdens of her family all alone.

He was built for the cool calm of the ice, but he got fire.

She watched him closely, her brother, Touya, Dabi, she didn’t care what his name was now, he was her brother, and he was alive.

She saw how his skin was stapled together, skin grafts and burns patched together. It almost looked like her first attempt at quilting, before she realised she was better at crochet. It was ugly and uneven, but she loved it anyway.

She saw the heat that radiated from his skin, a heat she had felt when they were young, heat that warmed her too cold skin, that fought the frostbite that threatened to over take her at every turn, when she couldn’t control her quirk as well. She missed that heat, until it grabbed her hand, warmth seeping through her glove.

She flinched, and she saw the hurt that crossed his face. She never meant to abuse that look, never meant to hurt him. She wasn’t scared of him, how could she be?

He was her brother, even after everything, he was still that. And she loved her brothers so much. More than herself.

She loved Touya, she loved that he could get angry. He could show his anger in ways she couldn’t, he was free and expressive in a way she couldn’t be. Her thoughts and feelings were numbed, hidden under layers of ice, but not his. They burned hot and bright and he made you see them, see him.

She wished she could be so visible.

But he cracked her ice, with each day she saw the breaks get wider, deeper, and things started leaking out. Her hatred for their father, something she buried so deep inside she could never feel more than the barest irritation at him, a super volcano hidden beneath the ice, ready to explode.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever be so strong as to let herself blow up, not like him. She wishes she could.

She was built for raging fire, but she got ice.

He grabbed her hand, much to both of their surprise. He pulled off her glove, and she let him. He winced at the sight of her hand, cold and pale. She was watching him, holding her hand so gently in his, but she didn’t react.

“I can feel it,” she whispered, like she feared if she spoke any louder it would stop, like she only knew how to speak softly and calmly, but her face betrayed nothing. She had schooled her expression into blank calm so long ago it seemed she had forgot how to make anything else.

“What?”

He sounded angry, his voice always sounded angry, burnt thought scratching against his vocal cords, matching his permanently scowling face, made that way through surgeries or circumstance, no one knew.

“I can feel your hand, it’s warm,” her voice finally expressed something besides soft and calm observation, something akin to awe, surprise maybe?

She hadn’t felt warmth, or anything really, in her hands in so long, she couldn’t remember it.

He seemed to understand, he knew how her quirk worked as well as she did, and he knew what it felt like to use his quirk without her there, burning from the inside out. He imagined freezing was similar, her nerves were dead, just like his.

She felt his heat bleed into her hand at the same time it seemed as though the cold seeped into his.

They sat like that for only a moment, before it began to hurt. Permanent frostbite meant permanent numbness, and as she warmed up for the first time in years she could finally feel the pain that followed numbness. She knew he felt the same.

It had been too long, they had been without their balance too long, and now it hurt too much to go back.

They sat for awhile, but they didn’t say much, there’s was too much to say, too many years to relive, but nothing felt important enough to say.

Fuyumi knew she wouldn’t stop his goals, she didn’t try. He knew he couldn’t get her to come with him, he didn’t try. They should’ve tried.

They left, unfinished drinks still sitting on the table.

They didn’t say goodbye, they didn’t say anything. They just walked away, in opposite directions. Neither of them favoured literature, neither of them ever read Orpheus’ story, neither of them had ever learned his lesson.

They both turned around, wanting just one last glimpse of their sibling, their twin, their balance, before they left for good, before this became their new before.

They turned, and looked, and ran.

They hugged, the only ones who could touch each other with freezing or burning, the only ones immune to the pain the other lives everyday with. They couldn’t hug for long, their balance wasn’t right anymore, it hurt too much, too many jagged edges cutting against each other, two extremes that never should have met, but never could have left each other alone.

They hugged, it hurt, they didn’t stop.

They whispered, in equally trained voices, with equally drilled expressions, each others names, the only names they ever really felt like they owned.

“Ya-nii”

“Yu-nee”

Then, after a moment longer, they pulled apart, blood evaporating on skin, tears freezing on waterlines, they turned and left. And they both smiled, as close to the real smiles they wore as kids as they thought they would ever get again.

Touya wasn’t made for love, he was made for rage, clawing at his throat until he let it out.

Touya wasn’t made for love, but maybe there was an exception.

Fuyumi wasn’t made for rage, she was made for love, care and protection overflowing from her like the tears she couldn’t shed.

Fuyumi wasn’t made for rage, but the cracks were growing, and lava lived beneath her ice.

They were polar opposites, one left and the other stayed. One killed, the other saved. One burned, the other froze. But they were cut from the same cloth, a cloth woven of love and rage, and when you looked closely, ice burns as bright as fire.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Tattooed Heart [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Taglist is open, you can find the form here.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: from Anon - “Hi! I saw the request you got on your second blog and it got me thinking. Can you write something about reader having a lot of tattoos and spencer thinks she’s a “bad girl” (not that tattoos make you bad but you know... stigma) and that she’ll never want him (maybe early seasons Spence?) and is in literal shock when she asks him out? I just want tattoo representation in fics"

A/N: I couldn't WAIT to write this. As a woman with quite a lot of tattoos this was very inspiring to me. Because there is still stigma surrounding tattoo's, I always get looked at a certain way and people always make assumptions about me due to my tattoos. I loved the idea of Spencer being so into a heavily tattooed female!

CW: vague hints at masturbation (male) other than that just a little pervy Spencer but not too much. Talk of insecurities and being looked at differently because of tattoos.

Plot: Once Spencer notices your tattoos, he can't stop thinking about them. But surely a "bad girl" wouldn't be interested in a guy like him?

Part Two | Part Three

WC: 1K

—————————————————————

From the moment you walked into the BAU on your first day, Spencer knew there was something different about you. He didn’t know what it was, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

It wasn’t until a few months into you joining the team and a case took you to Arizona in the middle of summer that he realised what it was.

He met you at the crime scene way out in the desert and you’d rid your usual blazer, opting for a much more weather appropriate tank top.

You caught him staring at you as you exited the car, pulling your latex gloves on.

“How long has she been dead?” you asked him, trying not to make eye contact with him.

“Uh…” he swallowed. “She uh…”

You sighed, looking back at him to see his eyes raking over your bare arms.

“Stare much?” you put one hand on your hip and raised your eyebrow at him. “Yes Spencer, I have tattoos.”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the beautiful and intricate body art that adorned your body. You had two full sleeves, from your wrists, stretching up to your collarbones and he could just about make out one peeking out from between your breasts.

“Spencer!” you scalded him as his eyes dipped to your chest.

His eyes shot back up to meet yours, his embarrassment written all over his face. He nervously played with his glasses.

“Uh...sorry.” he chewed his lip. “I uh...I just…”

“When was her time of death?” you asked again, trying to pull his mind back to the case.

It wasn’t the first time you had been looked at in that way. For the most part you tried to keep your tattoos covered at work because there was still a stigma attached to being a tattooed woman, especially in a government job.

People always make assumptions about you and you could tell by the look on Spencer’s face that he was doing just that.

***

Spencer couldn’t get the sight of your decorated skin out of his mind. He didn’t think tattoos were something he would find attractive but seeing them on you had awoken something in him.

They were so delicate and artistic and Spencer wanted to trace his fingers over every single one of them. He wanted to kiss every inch of your inked skin.

The thought of this made him hard beyond belief. Sitting in his motel room later that night he was straining against his slacks as he closed his eyes and pictured your artwork, specifically the one between your breasts he hadn’t gotten the chance to see properly.

Did you have more under your clothes? What else would await him beneath layers of fabric? Maybe your ribs were decorated, your thighs too. God he wanted to find out more than anything else in the world.

But there was no chance of that. You were clearly a bad girl, and bad girls were not interested in Spencer Reid.

He was the perfect depiction of the nice guy. He was awkward and a little dorky with his thick rimmed glasses, parted hair and penchant for ties, sweater vests and pressed slacks.

There was no possible way a woman like you would ever be interested in a man like him.

So knowing never stood a chance with you, he freed his aching member from his slacks and wrapped his hand around his shaft.

He closed his eyes and pictured your glorious body and its stunning artwork as he stroked himself.

It didn’t take long at all for him to reach his climax.

***

Months passed and Spencer kept his desires for you to himself. Every time he caught a glimpse of your tattooed flesh he would add it to his sordid box of images for when he was alone later.

It was coming up a year since you joined the team when the whole team was on a night out. It was a warm night and you showed up to the bar wearing a sundress that showed off your arms and the full extent of the tattoo between your breasts.

It also gave Spencer a glimpse at the tattoos that adorned your calves and thighs.

It drove him wild. And clearly he wasn’t subtle about it because about half way through the night, you sidled up close to him while he was getting a drink.

“You’ve been staring at me all night.” you raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you have a problem with my tattoos?”

“W-what?” he stuttered, staring wide eyed at you. “Far from it, actually.” he chewed his lip, his cheeks turning red.

“Oh.” your own eyes widened. “Oh.”

So that was what this was. Spencer wasn’t disgusted by your tattoos, he was attracted to them.

“In that case,” you stepped closer to him hearing his breath hitch. You placed a hand on his chest and smirked mischievously at him. “Why don’t you take me out to dinner and maybe I’ll let you see the other ones I keep hidden.”

“Ot-others.” he swallowed, his pants tightening.

“Oh yes Spencer.” you let your hand trail to his tie and you toyed with it between your fingers. “There’s a lot more you haven’t seen yet. But play your cards right and you just might.”

Spencer couldn’t talk, he could barely breathe. He just nodded dumbly at you.

“Now I’m going to let you watch me walk away. Pay close attention to the backs of my thighs.” You winked at him before turning your back on him.

He watched you walk away and as your thighs met as you walked he saw it.

Half a heart on each thigh. When brought together, they made a whole.

—————————————————————

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[moongoddessmox]

Happy Place. (Bucky Barnes x Reader) MoxMas Day 1

Warning: some language, kissing, but mostly just fluff

Word Count: 1,210

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky go Christmas shopping and you make him wear an ugly Christmas sweater. Overall just fluff and happy!Bucky!!!

Prompts: Sweater Paws + Cuddles / Christmas Shopping Together

A/N: I am going to attempt to write a little fic for every day of December now that it is Christmas. I don't know what to call it tho, what do y'all call December writing? I know October as Kinktober and stuff but what y'all call Christmas ones?? Crossposted on mox-writes for notification purposes!

Masterlist | Mox-Writes | MoxMas Masterlist

Prompt List 1 | Prompt List 2

“Hurry up! We don’t want to get caught in the crowds!” Bucky’s voice rang through the house as he waited for you. He slipped on his leather jacket and gloves and waited by the front door. You were about to go Christmas shopping together for the first time, a new experience for Bucky since becoming a super-soldier. He had finally found peace with you and cherished these little moments, something he thought he’d never have. But you did it, you had domesticated him and he loved going shopping with you and doing everyday things like mowing the lawn, decorating for holidays, and making real homemade dinners together. He was finally letting himself relax.

You bounced into the room excited to finally go Christmas shopping with him. Last year he was still uncomfortable with the idea of doing things like this, still blaming himself for what he did as the Winter Soldier, and he didn’t have many people to shop for anyway, just you. But now he found a second family with Sam, and he had become an important part of their community and had opened himself up to making real connections with your family as well. This year was a real step forward for him and you loved it because he deserved the world.

Bucky grabbed your coat from the rack and helped you into it, zipping it up all the way and kissing your forehead. You smiled up at him, kissing his soft lips and sneaking the keys from his pocket.

“I’m driving.” You rushed off to the car, giggling the whole way. Bucky preferred to drive because you “couldn’t drive a shopping cart” or something. He groaned as he got in the passenger seat and jokingly prayed for his life.

At the store you had a full shopping cart of things for the whole family, and some things for Bucky hidden under toys for Sam’s nephews. Bucky pushed the cart as you browsed the clothing section, hinting at items you liked that Bucky would secretly take photos of when you walked away so that he could come back later.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, startling Bucky as he rushed over to you. You had a large grin on your face as you turned to look at him, holding up two ugly Christmas sweaters. He slumped his shoulders as the worry left his body but fear crept back on his face as he gazed upon the ugliest shit he’d ever seen.

“No.” His voice was stern, to the point. You inched closer to him, the smile never fading.

“Y/N, no.” He wouldn’t win this battle, he knew that, but he had to try. You laid the sweaters in the cart and he sighed.

“They only had one size left so it’ll be a little big, but bigger is better than too small!” You explained. He raised an eyebrow at you, a pained look on his face as Santa stared at him from the bright green fabric of the sweater.

“I’m not wearing that,”

“Too bad, I’m getting it and you’re putting it on tonight.” You turned on your heel and pulled the cart with you.

“Tonight?” he wasn’t aware of any plans you’d made for tonight, now he was worried.

“Mhm, don’t worry about it.” You smirked to yourself, not explaining further. Bucky sighed, heavy boots following you as you got too far away from him.

Later that night, you had Bucky forced into wearing the sweater. He came out of the bedroom with it on, the long sleeves fully covered his hands and the biggest pout you’d ever seen on another person was spread across his face. You giggled and embraced him, pulling him into a sweet kiss. You showed off your equally-as-large sweater, flopping the ends of the sleeves around until he broke into a smile.

“You look very cute, Buck,” you stroked his face with your thumb through the thick sweater. He melted into your touch, maybe not as mad about the ugly-ass sweater as he liked to act. He loved getting to have these moments with you. Something felt so real, so loving about it. He was trying to realize that he didn’t need to be so cold to everything, that things could just be good. That there was no ulterior motive, that it wasn’t going to be taken away from him, that these moments were true and real. He reached his hands up and held your face with his sweatered hands, bringing your face back up to his, leaving passionate kisses all over your face and neck. Bucky grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease, holding you against the wall as your long sleeves draped over his shoulders.

Knock, knock, knock. Bucky pulled away looking at the door, confused as to who was there. You giggled and wiggled out of his grip, dipping under his arm and heading to the door. As soon as you opened it, the whole Wilson family barged in with loud greetings and laughs. Bucky’s face tightened up and he straightened his back, crossing his arms over Santa’s face on his chest. Sam came over to him and laughed, the sleeves of Bucky’s sweater hung over his arms and he looked like an adorable kid.

“Nice sweater, Buck,” Sam slapped a hand on his shoulder and laughed. “That’s nice, that’s nice. Y/N you did that?” Sam couldn’t stop laughing, he looked at you and pointed to the sweater. Your eyes crinkled with the big smile on your face, taking pleasure in teasing Bucky.

“He needed a little color, he always wears black,” you responded, helping Sarah lay out the food they brought. Bucky shoved Sam’s hand off of him and they playfully slapped each other. The sleeves flapping around were not an intimidating sight.

Later, the night had calmed down and you laid on a long bench outside with Bucky. This patio was one of your recent additions to the house you shared and you had built a beautiful fire pit that came in handy on nights like these. Your head was in his lap and his metal hand rubbed your scalp, the soothing sensation almost putting you to sleep. He looked on at the kids playing in the snow, all bundled up and throwing snowballs. Sam, Sarah, and some of their friends sat around talking. It felt like home. Bucky was calm, the peace he wanted so badly was finally here. You looked up at his rosy cheeks and nose, snow melting on his dark hair, and turtleneck brushing against his scruffy chin. You loved him. You loved who he was, who he is, and who he would be.

Bucky looked down at you, seeing tears forming in your eyes as you watched him. He pushed his brows together in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” his voice was soft, his thumb, still hidden by his sweater, brushed the tears away from your temple.

“Nothing is wrong, quite the opposite actually. I just love seeing you happy.” You smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist as you buried your face into his abdomen. Bucky’s eyes started to water then, the realization hitting him that this was it. This was his happy place.

[earlgreydream]

butterbeer.

| draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader | fluff |

a/n: requested by my dearest hufflepuff, @fitzfiles​ i’m so soft for draco 

You sat curled up in the Hufflepuff common room, your thick herbology book resting on your lap. Cedric was beside you on the couch in his golden quidditch sweater, smiling kindly at you. 

“Do you see? In order to care for the mandrakes, you must bury them in the soil like this,” you showed Cedric your notes. Every Friday afternoon was spent tutoring Cedric in herbology after your shared class. 

“Yes. You’re much better than Sprout at explaining it. You should become the new herbology professor when the bloke finally retires.” Cedric grinned at you. 

“I like Professor Sprout! That would be fun though!” You giggled. 

“Oi, Y/N! Your boyfriend is griping to be let in here,” One of the Hufflepuff girls called to you as she entered the common room. You smiled at her apologetically, squeezing Cedric’s shoulder as you stood. You walked to the painting, letting it swing open to reveal Draco Malfoy. 

“Hi,” you smiled at him, and he gazed at you softly with a loving smile. His usual arrogance and sharpness was gone from his expression as he looked at you with utter adoration. 

“Hi, darling,” he stepped into the common room, kissing your forehead lightly. 

“Cedric.” He nodded, greeting your best friend. Draco had been a bit prickly toward him when the two of you first began dating, but he warmed up when he realized that Cedric wasn’t a threat. 

“We’re not quite finished. Do you mind?”

“I’ll wait. You can’t go in this anyways.” he said, nodding to your school uniform you hadn’t changed out of.

“I know, darling. It’s warm in here and I haven’t had the chance to change.” 

You walked back over to the couch, and he sat on the floor on a golden cushion, his head resting against your thigh. You lightly ran your fingertips through his snowy white locks as you leaned over your herbology book, helping Cedric identify the differences between the plants for your O.W.L.S. 

The other Hufflepuffs no longer stared at Draco, now used to having him in their common room. Draco was often hanging around, enjoying the warmth and coziness, and the way he was welcomed. He found that he much preferred it to the chilly, marble elegance of the Slytherin commons. 

One of the second-year girls walked over, setting down a plate of pumpkin pastries.

“Y/N, Draco, Cedric, have some,” She said sweetly, smiling at the three of you and sitting down across from the Slytherin prince. 

“Draco, would you maybe look at my potions paper? I swear Professor Snape hates me, and I’m nervous.” She asked shyly, and Draco sat up. 

“Of course, let me see.” He took the paper from her hand, and she moved to sit beside him. You smiled down at your boyfriend, and the kind way he spoke to her. 

“This is great, but you should add here that polyjuice potion takes a long time to make...” He fell into soft chatter with her, showing her where her paper could be stronger. Draco was gentle, careful to praise the younger student on what she did well. It warmed your heart, and you turned back to finish with Cedric. 

“This is perfect. I’ll put in a good word for you too, with Snape. Please, I’m always happy to help you or tutor you if you need it, alright?” he asked her as she stood.

“Thanks, Draco.”

“Of course.” 

“I love it when you’re sweet.” You said, leaning down over Draco and kissing the tip of his nose. He stood, helping you to your feet and taking your heavy textbook for you.

“I’m still mean!” He teasingly defended himself and you shook your head at him with a small smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Pansy that you’re secretly nice,” you teased back and he followed you to your dorm. 

He set your textbook down on your desk, mindlessly folding the various clothing you had tossed over the back of your chair or top of the trunk at the end of your bed. He was extremely neat, always folding your clothes or putting things back in their places whenever he visited your dorm. 

“Y/N, is this my quidditch sweater I’ve been looking for?” He asked as you pulled a yellow Hufflepuff jumper over your head, letting it fall over your black skinny jeans. 

“Um, no, it belongs to my other boyfriend who plays on the Slytherin quidditch team,” you answered with a straight face. 

“You’re dating Theo behind my back?” Draco asked, humor laced in his voice.

“No, sorry, the other one,” you bit back a giggle as he reached for you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m yours, Draco!” You squealed, trying to escape as your laughter interrupted your breathing. 

“That’s right. You’re mine,” his voice dropped a few octaves, making you shudder with a small smile on your face. 

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore. You can have it back.” 

“Oh, I can have it back?” he smirked, pulling. you into a kiss. 

“But I want another one in return.”

“Y/N, that jumper is mine too. And that one.” He pointed, and you rolled your eyes.

“You have plenty. You can share.” 

“Come on, let’s get going.” 

Draco wrapped a scarf around your neck and fastened the buttons on the coat like you were a child. You knew he was just doing it because he cared, and you let him, taking any affection you could get from Draco. 

“Where are your gloves, honey?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, and he frowned.

“It’s cold, you can’t keep losing them.” 

“I know, let’s go now. I’ll find them later, for next time,” you begged.

“You can hold my hands so they don’t get cold, and my coat has pockets.” 

“Alright, love, come on,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you to him as you apparated to Diagon Alley. 

You shivered as snowflakes gently dusted into your hair, the freezing air nipping at your skin. You squeezed Draco’s hand, and he led you through the bustling street, weaving through groups of people. Draco was right, it was cold, but you didn’t dare complain, not wanting a lecture from your boyfriend about how you should keep better track of your gloves and hat. 

“Y/N, go ahead,” he gently pushed you in front of him as he opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, helping the two of you escape the cold. 

Draco kept a hand on the small of your back, leading you through the crowded pub. You squeezed through the crowded area, and ascended a flight of stairs to the second level. You smiled when you saw your favorite spot was open, a window bench with lots of pillows and a street view. You took a seat in the large round window, and Draco settled beside you. 

“What can I get for you two?” A waitress asked.

“Butterbeer for us both, please.” You said politely, and Draco added vanilla cookies. She smiled and promised to have your order soon.

“Thanks for helping me escape school. I needed some “us time” away from it all,” you told Draco, who planted a kiss to your lips. He tasted like sage and vanilla, and his kiss was sweet and gentle. 

“Of course, I love spending time with you,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, and you leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. He turned and kissed the crown of your head, his fingers lightly tracing the embroidery on the sleeve of the coat you wore. 

The waitress returned with your drinks, and you grinned, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around one of the glass mugs. Draco smiled at your excitement. He loved seeing you happy, even if it was over small things, like a warm drink on a cold day. You were so sweet. You were kind to everyone, especially him, and he loved you for it. You were the breath of fresh air and the gentleness he needed in his life, and he was profoundly in love with you. He adored you, and he was secretly happy when you stole his sweaters, because he loved to give them to you. 

A tiny silver necklace with a moon charm always rested beneath your collar, matching the one he war. He’d given it to you as a gift on your birthday, three years ago when the two of you started dating, and you never took it off. It made him happy to see you wear it proudly. Sometimes, he would watch you from afar, seeing your fingers touch the pendant lightly whenever you missed him. He’d walk up to you then, and see your face light up with joy when you saw him.

“Draco, can I have one of your vanilla cookies?” you asked sweetly, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly. 

He held out the plate to you, and you picked up the top one off the small pile with a smile. You bit into the soft cookie, smiling at him gratefully. He kissed your cheek, and you fed him a piece. He lightly nipped at your fingertip, making you squeal with delighted laughter. 

“Don’t bite!” You giggled, pecking his lips, which now tasted like sugar and butterbeer. 

“M’sorry, love,” Draco laughed, not sorry at all. 

The two of you played chess on the tabletop with a small set the pub had while you drank the butterbeer and finished off the cookies. You watched the snow fall outside, and Draco tried to teach you chess strategies, though you were mostly lost. 

“That’s alright. It’s getting late, anyway.” Draco said when the two of you got stuck in your match, the empty mugs long forgotten. You looked up, seeing that the sun had set, and the only light outside came from buzzing street lamps. 

You held Draco’s hand tightly as you stepped out into the cold night, burying your face in his shoulder as the two of you walked back to a side street where you could apparate back to Hogwarts without being seen. You held your breath as Draco waved his wand, and you were suddenly back in your dormitory, disturbing your once-sleeping cat. 

“Will you stay?” You asked Draco, and he nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“Of course.” He kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you.

You hung up your coat and scarf, slipping your boots off and placing them in the bottom of the wardrobe. Draco draped his slacks, sweater, and undershirt over your chair, and pulled one of his jumpers you had stolen over his head. You stripped before pulling another over your head, his last name stitched on the chest. You turned to see Draco was pulling down your duvet, and you smiled at him softly. 

You walked over, freeing your hair from your plait and picking up your brush from the dresser. Draco’s pale fingers wrapped around the brush, prying it from your grasp. You smiled up at him as he gently brushed the tangles from your hair, helping you get ready for bed. You sat on the sheets, knees pulled to your chest, and Draco softly dragging the brush through your hair. You were nearly asleep when he finished, yawning as you sat up. 

“Get some sleep, love.” He slipped into bed behind you, pulling the duvet to cover you both. He murmured a spell to shut off the lights, darkness falling gently over the two of you. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest, settling with you into his arms. 

“Goodnight, Draco.” You whispered, and he kissed the back of your head.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

[spencer-reids-adventures]

dont really have beginning prompt but like derek noticing spencer wearing a glove on his left hand and spencer being embarrassed over it being for left/right coordination would be super poggers i think

I hope I understood the prompt correctly, this is something I struggle with so I'm just kinda writing what I know, lol

-

Derek has just gotten settled at his desk when Spencer comes in, a little later than usual, looking frazzled. He drops his bag next to his own desk and then hurries over to make a cup of coffee, sipping it gratefully as he walks quickly past Derek, and Derek notices a thin fingerless glove on Spencer's left hand, peeking out from under the sleeve of his sweater.

"Good morning, pretty boy," Derek says. "What's with the glove?"

"The wha--" Spencer says, his eyes suddenly widening.

He drops his mug of coffee mid-word, the ceramic cracking into large pieces and a stain spreading across the carpet. Spencer curses and runs to get paper towels while Derek picks up the pieces of mug and throws them away. By the time Spencer finishes mopping up the mess, he looks done, and it's not even 8AM.

Derek approaches him a few minutes later with a fresh cup of coffee in a styrofoam cup.

"Thought you could use this," he says, setting it down in front of Spencer. "I didn't mean to startle you earlier, when I asked about the..." He motions towards Spencer's left hand, still wearing the glove.

Spencer yanks it off like it's burning him and throws it in his bag.

"Walk with me?" he says, picking up his cup of coffee, and Derek follows him out of the bullpen.

"Everything okay?" Derek asks, once they're away from other people.

"Yeah, this is just embarrassing," Spencer says. "I was running late this morning and my routine got thrown off and I forgot to remove my glove..."

Derek looks at him, but doesn't say anything.

"Do you know what left-right confusion is?" Spencer asks. "I'll give you a hint. It's exactly what it sounds like."

"Difficulty telling right from left?"

Spencer nods. "I know it's silly, I'm a so-called genius and I can't do something so simple... I mean, I can, it just usually takes me a long time, and it's stressful, and I'm really self-conscious about it... I often have problems with coordination between right and left, as well. Anyway, outside of work I generally wear a glove on my left hand and it makes it easier for me to quickly know which is which."

"Kid, that's not silly," Derek tells him. "It doesn't make you less of a genius, or less of a person. I had no idea you struggled with that, and I thought I knew you pretty well."

"For every one thing I tell you about my autism, just assume there's like... five more that I'm too embarrassed to share with you," Spencer says, but he's smiling.

"Fair enough, but you know you can tell me anything, right? And I won't judge you?"

"We've only known each other for a year, Derek," Spencer says. "Give it time. I'm sure they'll all come out eventually, whether I want them to or not. Anyway, thanks for not being mean about the glove thing. My dad used to ask how 'someone so intelligent could be so fucking dumb at the same time,' so..."

"Tell me you don't have a relationship with him anymore," Derek says, eyes flashing with anger.

"Not since I was ten," Spencer assures him.

"You're not dumb, pretty boy. You're great, and I'm glad to know you. Now, finish your coffee before it gets cold."

[youarejesting]

Sly like a...? Part 9

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.5k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

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Tonight you had decided to ask Hoseok what he wanted to eat for dinner. A quick knock on his always-open door and a peek inside showed him sitting on his bed. With his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin resting on his knees he looked young. He was staring forlornly at the wall, perhaps you thought he was feeling a little homesick. The city was much different from what he was used to. 

“Hoseok, hey?” You sat beside him the scent of fresh pine on his warm-toned skin. Waving your hand within his line of sight in an effort to gain his attention. The deer blinked, giving you a bright smile and a cheery laugh. 

“Sorry, I was lost in thought?” He straightened out his legs. You patted the soft comforter in front of you. 

“Shuffle your butt over here,” you spoke softly. He continued to face the wall and shuffled over, you pulled him to lay back against you, “Are you feeling homesick honey?”

“Yeah, I guess I miss nature. It’s just, it’s so bare” he muttered looking around his room, a desk with a laptop, a bed, and bedside tables he sniffed wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “I miss it.”

“How about we get you some plants as many as you want, to fill the room, if you really want we can tear up the carpet and lay down grass instead,” Hoseok laughed as you described a tall plant by his desk flowers on his bedside tables and hanging pots from the ceiling. “You can call them, that’s why I got you this,”

He nodded taking the phone you held out to him, he dialed a number and placed it to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Hello my sister,” he said, relaxing as he heard the familiar voice. 

“Hobi!” She called through the phone, which seemed to cause a commotion on the other end of the phone as many voices could be heard, “what is it like in the city? Are they treating you nicely? Have you been eating?”

“It’s really nice and everyone is so fun and nice and we eat lots of food together,” he cheered. The family was talking happily and you grinned scratching Hoseok's head happily laughing with him. 

“We are going to decorate his room with plants,” you assured his family that he was being treated well, “oh! tonight is your choice for dinner so what would you like?”

“Unnie, Hobi likes Japchae and meat,” his sister giggled over the phone and you leaned around Hoseok and grinned. 

“What you think Hobi-ah? Sounds good?” You used their nickname teasingly but in hopes, he would feel more at home and at ease around you. 

“Mm, Hobi wants japchae!” He said cutely, making you laugh, you gently pushed his firm and warm body until he was sitting up enough to slip out from behind him. 

“Alright, you keep talking I will round up Jin and Yoongi and we will get to work cooking,” bidding your goodbyes to Hoseok’s family, you headed out to the kitchen. Yoongi was tying up his apron and Jin was playing video games with the youngest of the group. 

You decided against asking Jin as he seemed truly engrossed in playing his video games. Sorting out ingredients and finding a recipe Yoongi and yourself shuffled around the kitchen. There were moments where you reached over where he was cutting vegetables and your shoulders would brushed and just for a second you would hear a small purr. 

Jin lost to Jungkook and pouted, scuffing his slippers as he entered the kitchen, “Ya! The game likes Jungkook better!” He whined, with a grin on your face you pulled him into a hug. Arms wrapping around his tiny waist as you buried your face in the soft sweater he was wearing, it smelt sweet like figs and his ears twitched. 

“I am just happy you tried your best,” you praised him, as you felt the vibrating chittering in his chest almost like a purr but more like a rattle. He nuzzled your hair breathing in your scent. You got him to join in with the cooking. Your instructions interrupted by Taehyung who was complaining about being hungry.

Sliding between the two hybrids to get past, you got some ingredients from the fridge. You sat at the breakfast bar mixing the ingredients in a big metal bowl. Taehyung had been your neighbor for at least five years now and you knew his favorite foods. 

“Try this and tell me how it is?” you held a ball of rice out in a plastic gloved hand and he leaned in eating it. His eyes lighting up. He gave a deep mmh-mm of approval and his tail was smacking Jungkook in the thigh, the young boy looking at the offending appendage and swatted it away.

“Me too, noona” He smiled pointing to his mouth and you popped one of the Jumeokbap onto his tongue. He chewed it happily his cheeks puffed full, a purr filling the room loudly. You turned to Jin offering him a taste, he praised it with a thumbs up.

Carrying the bowl around to Yoongi you smiled, “You want to try one Yoongi?” He didn’t reply but leaned his head towards you eyes on the food mouth opened.

He let you put one in his mouth, and you pressed your ear to Yoongi’s shoulder, his purrs were definitely the quietest out of all the felines in the house, they were ones that vibrated deeply in his chest but didn’t make too much noise unless it was really quiet and you listened intently.

“I smell tuna!” Jimin grinned bounding over his long legs barely touched the ground and he smiled, “Me love, one for me”

You were trying to roll one but he had started rubbing his face on your jaw and neck impatiently, as he purred sweetly, “I am making it as fast as I can,” the words barely came out through your giggles his soft hair tickling your neck, his ears twitching at the sound.

“Here try this one,” he leaned in wrapping his mouth around the rice ball his eyes never leaving yours. “Is it good?”

“Mm very good” he hummed standing behind you his hands wrapped around your waist as you made one for Namjoon. He held out his hand and ate it, nodding before awkwardly shuffling around waiting for the food to finish. Hoseok exited his room smiling brightly, it seemed the conversation with his family had eased his loneliness.

Namjoon at dinner was a little scary all he could see was food and his deep purrs were so loud that it almost sounded like thunder rumbling outside. You brought up the question at dinner and watched them all choke on their food. 

“It is only natural, I am just wondering when and if you know your rut schedule so I can put it on the calendar and if you need any assistance during this time we can look for a suitable companion or items that can relief your needs.”

Jungkook was bright red and Jimin thought honestly, “I don’t need assistance but if when I am not in my room we could cuddle,”

“I also do not require assitance I will just be in my room,” Namjoon said with a small reassuring smile.

“I have never had a rut,” Jungkook said his cheeks never losing their rosey colour, “They gave us a hormone blocker every six months so we would behave, we just got really annoyed”

You nodded they all seemed to agree that they would be fine on their own in their room but you thought you would look into somethings as a fail safe. After your goodnights to each of the boys giving them a sweet kiss on their foreheads, you sat on Jungkook’s bed and told him more of the stories of the fox.

“In Korean legends, the Kumiho is often described as a terrifying and sad creature that strives to become a real human. It is said that a Kumiho can turn into a real human by eating 100 human livers or by marrying a human and living with them for 100 days without their true identity being discovered. There are many more theories on how they came to be but they…”

Once everyone was tucked in, you spent the night in the lounge. Searching the web for eligible companions and items that could assist the seven young men. You hoped they were all settling in nicely. A figure appeared in the hall, ringing his tail in his hands, you gave a soft smile, surprised as the figure came closer.

It wasn’t Jimin as you had first thought, it was Jungkook, you walked him back to bed and he whispered, “I am nervous what if I do something bad during my rut?”

“I know your true nature Jungkook, I know you don’t want to hurt any of the boys or even myself and when the rut passes well then you will be back to the old Koo we know and love.”

“Can you sleep in my room tonight?” He said and seeing your apprehension he added, “Just until I fall asleep?”

“Alright just until you fall asleep.” Not knowing how exhausted you were and how the bed was so soft and enticing. You had fallen asleep almost instantly, letting Jungkook pull you into his arms and nuzzle your shoulder.

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[writingwhimsey]

My Pirate Lord and Our Life Ch. 17

Chapter 17

I was roused from sleep by a knocking sound. "Wake up sleepy heads. I've gotta be at work in an hour and we have a lot to talk about before then."

I groaned. "Five...more minutes."

"You've got five minutes to get dressed before I come in there and drag you both out of bed."

"I'm the captain, I don't take orders." Motonari called back grumpily.

"Five hundred years ago you were yes, but you ain't shit here."

"Misa!" I found myself shouting.

"Oooh, touchy on the hubs are we?" Misa said with amusement.

Motonari was laughing and I felt his breath tickling my chest, his head still cradled in my arms. I felt his gaze at me and I opened my eyes slightly, my vision still bleary from sleep, but that didn't take away from the handsomeness of his face nor his smile. "All the women in this time period mouthy as you and yer friend?" He asked me.

I playfully swatted at him. "We just know our worth now."

Motonari smiled at me as he stretched up to place a light kiss on my lips. "I don't know about the others, but yer worth more than any gold or coin...my greatest treasure."

I smiled at him and gave him a kiss in return. "We should probably get up though...she will come in here and rip the covers off of us...and I don't want to share the sight of you naked with anyone else."

Motonari grinned at me. "You possessive of me, m'lady?"

"You got a problem with it?"

"Nah, you be as greedy and possessive of me as ya want...because I don't share you neither."

We shared a few more good morning kisses before finally untangling ourselves from each other. I helped Motonari with the packaging on the clothes Misa had picked up for him and explained them. Pretty simple really. A long sleeve white t-shirt, black sweat pants, and socks. I then went to my dresser and started pulling out my clothes.

"What in the world is that? That don't look like enough fabric to cover nothin'." Motonari observed.

I smiled. "Well, it's meant for wearing under my clothes...though you will find most modern clothes much more revealing than what we wear back home." I replied, sliding on the pink cotton panties. I was then grabbing out a pair of black leggings, a black tank top, and a light-weight over-sized blue sweater. I pulled on the leggings and then the tank top and then the sweater, which had one shoulder hanging down.

Motonari was looking me up and down in my lounge wear. His eyes drinking in my form in a gratifying way. "And you say my pants are tight." He mused with a wicked grin.

I felt my cheeks redden. "These are called leggings. They're more casual wear. Worn for working out or just lounging around the house because they're super comfy...though it is becoming more common to wear them out and about for running errands and such."

"I like 'em." He said, a hungry look in his eyes.

"Well, you can appreciate them more later. We've got probably three seconds before Misa comes busting in here." I said.

Motonari slid on his gloves and then we were heading out of the room. As soon as we exited the room, I was hit with a familiar warm aroma. "What's that smell?" Motonari asked.

I breathed in the scent, feeling slightly invigorated just by the smell. "Coffee..." I breathed half in answer half in admiration of something I hadn't realized I had missed so much.

"Bout time you guys got out here." Misa remarked. "And I made the coffee figuring you would need it. I know I did after you two kept me up all night."

I felt my cheeks turn bright red. "We were being quiet." I replied.

"Your bed wasn't." Misa replied. "Pretty sure the neighbors could hear it squeaking, too. Also, my room is right next to yours."

My face was bright red so it took away from the glare I was giving Misa. I walked past her and went to grab a cup of coffee. I poured the coffee into my mug. I held it up to my nose for a moment, savoring the aroma, then I took a drinking, downing about half the cup. Feeling a bit more invigorated by the coffee already, I looked over at Misa. "You're just jealous because you're not getting any." I retorted.

"Damn, living in the past has definitely made you even spunkier." Misa replied, smiling.

Motonari was just grinning at me. "I thought alcohol was the only thing that made you that bold." He said.

"Different kind of bold...also it's just the way Misa and I have always been."

"Yeah, I didn't let her have much choice in that." Misa agreed.

Just then Sasuke was coming out of the bathroom. "You know, I have missed indoor plumbing." He said. He then looked at the coffee pot. "Oh my god, is that coffee?"

"Yup, help yourself." Misa said to him.

"Thank you." Sasuke replied, heading over to get himself a cup.

"What is this stuff anyways?" Motonari asked.

"The nectar of the gods." I answered. "You want me to make you a cup?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine."

I nodded. It's probably because Misa did the actual brewing and he doesn't know what goes into making it. I'll have to brew another pot later after Misa leaves. I thought to myself.

"Alright, so we have to figure out a few things." Misa said. "First, Sasuke do you know about that wormhole yet?"

Sasuke shook his head. "Not yet completely." He answered. "From my calculations, the conditions should be right in about three to six weeks, but I don't have the location narrowed down just yet."

"That's not bad." I said.

"Well for the next three to six weeks, I assume you two will be staying here." Misa said looking at me and Motonari.

"As long as you don't mind." I replied.

"For one, your name is on the lease too." Misa replied. "For another, for me, you've been gone a month. I finally have you back even if it is for a short time. I wanna spend time with you and hear about your new life." She was then turning a hard gaze onto Motonari. "And YOU, I have to interrogate."

Motonari grinned. "You really think it's a good idea to interrogate a pirate?"

"Or someone whose nickname is the God of Deceit." Sasuke added.

"Hey, you married my best friend without my blessing. I have every right to subject you to all kind of tests and questioning to make sure you're good enough for her."

"Misa." I said, my tone mildly scolding.

Motonari just grinned. "It's alright flower girl."

"See he's fine with it. Besides, it's just me keeping with that promise we made all those years ago." Misa said looking at me.

My face softened as I recalled the day. "You know I can protect myself right?"

"Yeah, says the girl who threw herself in front of my fist to protect someone she didn't even know...and then kept chasing after me...even when I intentionally turned my anger on you."

"Yeah, well you were just a sad and hurting kid...all of us were there." I replied.

"Yeah, but you were the one who turned your pain into something positive."

"Misa..."

Just then Misa's cell phone rang. She picked it up and answered. She spoke briefly and then sighed. "Looks like I'm going into work early. One of my patients went into labor. We'll talk more tonight. Ava your spare keys are in the drawer over there. Your car is still in the lot as well. The police brought it back when they realized there was no evidence in it about where you went. Also, I called the girls. They'll be here tonight for dinner."

"Just having a family reunion right off the bat huh?" I teased.

"Hey, we were all worried about you. Miss Mayuko is coming too. We all love you, you know."

I smiled. Feeling a mixture of warmth and guilt all at once. "I love you guys too."

"Alright, I'm off." Misa said before heading out the door.

"That was a lively exchange." Sasuke observed.

"Definitely." Motonari agreed.

I smiled and shrugged. I was then going to the fridge and rummaging through it. "Yes, we have everything to make omurice!"

"You don't gotta make breakfast, m'lady." Motonari said.

"I already had some cereal." Sasuke replied.

"Well, did it ever occur to either of you that I might want omurice?" I replied. Then I looked at Motonari. "Or that maybe I just wanted to make it for you like I said I would."

Motonari smiled at me. "Alright."

I got to work making the Omurice and brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Motonari and Sasuke sat at the table, Motonari asking Sasuke some questions about wormholes and how certain things worked in the modern world. Sasuke was more than happy to explain.

Once I had finished breakfast, I put the omurice on a plate and then took the ketchup and made a big red heart on it before setting it in front of Motonari with a cup of coffee. Sasuke had gone into the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day, as well as make some phone calls.

"So, this red sauce...it's ketchup?" He asked.

I nodded. "Yup, a sauce made from tomatoes. I believe there's sugar and vinegar as well."

Motonari smiled as he looked at the big heart on the omurice. He then leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

I smiled at him. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"Just showin' my girl a little love." He answered.

I kissed his cheek back. "You seem like you're doing better than you were last night." I observed.

"That's you." He replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Just...why you gotta make me say it?" He asked, looking delightfully bashful.

I broke into a grin. "It's okay...but you know it is just the two of us right now...and no one back home will know..."

Motonari cut me off with a kiss. He broke the kiss to rest his forehead against mine, looking me in the eyes. "You just gave me exactly what I needed last night."

I smiled and lightly kissed his lips, hoping he could feel my love for him in that kiss. "You better eat that before it gets cold...and drink that coffee."

"Yer gettin' bossy on me now that we're in yer world." He teased.

"Hey, I know what's good here." I teased.

Motonari gave me another peck on the lips before turning to his breakfast and digging in. "This is pretty good...I might prefer the chilly sauce though."

After breakfast, Sasuke came back in and we all made a plan for the day. We were only a short drive from Kyoto, so we would take Sasuke to his apartment and from there he would make arrangements to get back into the university and talk with his professor and get to work on the calculations to get us home. In the meantime Motonari and me would be spending the day in the city where we would buy him some more clothes and I would show him around modern day Japan...the world he helped save.

Motonari and I went through a new version of our morning routines before going back to my room to get changed. Motonari wasn't a fan of the sweatpants, so he put his pants back on, but kept the white t-shirt. I rummaged through my dressers and closet and grabbed out some clothes.

"More undergarments of some kind?" Motonari asked, gesturing to my bra.

"Yeah...I'm really not looking forward to wearing this one." I said with a sigh. "One thing I have not missed, but I'd feel uncomfortable in my modern clothes not wearing it."

"What is it? Some kind of...cage for your breasts?"He asked.

"Though not the actual description, not a bad one." I replied. I pulled my sweater and tank top off and put on the lacy pink bra. It honestly felt a bit tighter and more uncomfortable than I remembered. I adjusted the straps and that helped some, but not quite enough.

Motonari was looking at me. "Definitely a cage...though does make 'em look nice." He said, grinning.

I looked into his red eyes as he said that...damn he looks as thirsty as he makes me feel most of the time. I thought to myself. Dammit, now I'm getting horny. I gave my cheeks a light slap, hoping the slight shock to my system would help. Then I went about getting dressed, pulling on a skirt that came to about my mid-thigh and a casual pale yellow blouse.

"You can go out with that much of yer legs showin'?" He asked.

"Yeah, I can go out showing a whole lot more in fact." I answered.

Motonari was then sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me close. "I'm gonna have to keep you close then."

I smiled at him. "I'll never complain about that."

We shared a few kisses before exiting my room and heading out to join Sasuke. I led them to my car, locking the apartment up behind me. "What's this...car?" Motonari asked.

"It's how we get around now. Much faster than a horse." I answered. "Remember, I told you, planes, trains, and automobiles. Turns trips that can take days into hours."

"Moving boxes of steel?" Motonari asked.

I nodded. "Glad you remember."

"I ain't ever gonna forget that."

"You know, I feel like I want to ask, but at the same time I don't." Sasuke said.

"Oh, just the first time I told him about the future, I was kind of doing it to mess with him." I replied.

"And yet it was all the truth." Motonari said. "Of course, I knew you were trying to screw with me then."

"Can you blame me, though?"

"Yeah." He answered with a teasing grin.

"Oh just for that, I am going to have some fun with you on this drive." I replied, opening the driver's side door and climbing in. Sasuke opened the passenger side back door and climbed in.

Motonari took the front seat and I instructed him on how to put on his seat belt before I turned the key and then shifted the car into gear. We soon got on the highway and were heading into Kyoto. Though I drove cautiously, I couldn't help but to drive just a tiny bit faster than needed and do a few little things to try and mess with Motonari, though of course nothing seemed to phase him.

Once we were in Kyoto, Sasuke directed me to his apartment and then I dropped him off. He already had Misa's number so he could call us when necessary and keep us updated. Now Motonari and I were alone in the car as I drove us through the city, looking for the best place to park.

"Ava."

"Hm?"

"What was that...that Misa was talkin' about this morning? 'Bout how you guys met and everything?" Motonari asked.

I knew it would come up eventually, but this was the one thing I'd never really told him about. My childhood. It's not that I didn't want to share it with him. I'd made my peace with the painful parts of it long ago. It just didn't feel right to tell him about my painful childhood memories when his were so much worse. "When I was about five...both of my parents died."

See what happens next below!

https://writingwhimsey.tumblr.com/post/666789099967037440/my-pirate-lord-and-our-life-ch-18

[mox-writes]

Happy Place. (Bucky Barnes x Reader) MoxMas Day 1

Warning: some language, kissing, but mostly just fluff

Word Count: 1,210

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky go Christmas shopping and you make him wear an ugly Christmas sweater. Overall just fluff and happy!Bucky!!!

Prompts: Sweater Paws + Cuddles / Christmas Shopping Together

A/N: I am going to attempt to write a little fic for every day of December now that it is Christmas. I don’t know what to call it tho, what do y'all call December writing? I know October as Kinktober and stuff but what y'all call Christmas ones?? Crossposted on moongoddessmox

MoxMas Masterlist | Prompt List 1 | Prompt List 2

You bounced into the room excited to finally go Christmas shopping with him. Last year he was still uncomfortable with the idea of doing things like this, still blaming himself for what he did as the Winter Soldier, and he didn’t have many people to shop for anyway, just you. But now he found a second family with Sam, and he had become an important part of their community and had opened himself up to making real connections with your family as well. This year was a real step forward for him and you loved it because he deserved the world.

“Hurry up! We don’t want to get caught in the crowds!” Bucky’s voice rang through the house as he waited for you. He slipped on his leather jacket and gloves and waited by the front door. You were about to go Christmas shopping together for the first time, a new experience for Bucky since becoming a super-soldier. He had finally found peace with you and cherished these little moments, something he thought he’d never have. But you did it, you had domesticated him and he loved going shopping with you and doing everyday things like mowing the lawn, decorating for holidays, and making real homemade dinners together. He was finally letting himself relax.

Bucky grabbed your coat from the rack and helped you into it, zipping it up all the way and kissing your forehead. You smiled up at him, kissing his soft lips and sneaking the keys from his pocket.

“I’m driving.” You rushed off to the car, giggling the whole way. Bucky preferred to drive because you “couldn’t drive a shopping cart” or something. He groaned as he got in the passenger seat and jokingly prayed for his life.

At the store you had a full shopping cart of things for the whole family, and some things for Bucky hidden under toys for Sam’s nephews. Bucky pushed the cart as you browsed the clothing section, hinting at items you liked that Bucky would secretly take photos of when you walked away so that he could come back later.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, startling Bucky as he rushed over to you. You had a large grin on your face as you turned to look at him, holding up two ugly Christmas sweaters. He slumped his shoulders as the worry left his body but fear crept back on his face as he gazed upon the ugliest shit he’d ever seen.

“No.” His voice was stern, to the point. You inched closer to him, the smile never fading.

“Y/N, no.” He wouldn’t win this battle, he knew that, but he had to try. You laid the sweaters in the cart and he sighed.

“They only had one size left so it’ll be a little big, but bigger is better than too small!” You explained. He raised an eyebrow at you, a pained look on his face as Santa stared at him from the bright green fabric of the sweater.

“I’m not wearing that,”

“Too bad, I’m getting it and you’re putting it on tonight.” You turned on your heel and pulled the cart with you.

“Tonight?” he wasn’t aware of any plans you’d made for tonight, now he was worried.

“Mhm, don’t worry about it.” You smirked to yourself, not explaining further. Bucky sighed, heavy boots following you as you got too far away from him.

Later that night, you had Bucky forced into wearing the sweater. He came out of the bedroom with it on, the long sleeves fully covered his hands and the biggest pout you’d ever seen on another person was spread across his face. You giggled and embraced him, pulling him into a sweet kiss. You showed off your equally-as-large sweater, flopping the ends of the sleeves around until he broke into a smile.

“You look very cute, Buck,” you stroked his face with your thumb through the thick sweater. He melted into your touch, maybe not as mad about the ugly-ass sweater as he liked to act. He loved getting to have these moments with you. Something felt so real, so loving about it. He was trying to realize that he didn’t need to be so cold to everything, that things could just be good. That there was no ulterior motive, that it wasn’t going to be taken away from him, that these moments were true and real. He reached his hands up and held your face with his sweatered hands, bringing your face back up to his, leaving passionate kisses all over your face and neck. Bucky grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease, holding you against the wall as your long sleeves draped over his shoulders.

Knock, knock, knock. Bucky pulled away looking at the door, confused as to who was there. You giggled and wiggled out of his grip, dipping under his arm and heading to the door. As soon as you opened it, the whole Wilson family barged in with loud greetings and laughs. Bucky’s face tightened up and he straightened his back, crossing his arms over Santa’s face on his chest. Sam came over to him and laughed, the sleeves of Bucky’s sweater hung over his arms and he looked like an adorable kid.

“Nice sweater, Buck,” Sam slapped a hand on his shoulder and laughed. “That’s nice, that’s nice. Y/N you did that?” Sam couldn’t stop laughing, he looked at you and pointed to the sweater. Your eyes crinkled with the big smile on your face, taking pleasure in teasing Bucky.

“He needed a little color, he always wears black,” you responded, helping Sarah lay out the food they brought. Bucky shoved Sam’s hand off of him and they playfully slapped each other. The sleeves flapping around were not an intimidating sight.

Later, the night had calmed down and you laid on a long bench outside with Bucky. This patio was one of your recent additions to the house you shared and you had built a beautiful fire pit that came in handy on nights like these. Your head was in his lap and his metal hand rubbed your scalp, the soothing sensation almost putting you to sleep. He looked on at the kids playing in the snow, all bundled up and throwing snowballs. Sam, Sarah, and some of their friends sat around talking. It felt like home. Bucky was calm, the peace he wanted so badly was finally here. You looked up at his rosy cheeks and nose, snow melting on his dark hair, and turtleneck brushing against his scruffy chin. You loved him. You loved who he was, who he is, and who he would be.

Bucky looked down at you, seeing tears forming in your eyes as you watched him. He pushed his brows together in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” his voice was soft, his thumb, still hidden by his sweater, brushed the tears away from your temple.

“Nothing is wrong, quite the opposite actually. I just love seeing you happy.” You smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist as you buried your face into his abdomen. Bucky’s eyes started to water then, the realization hitting him that this was it. This was his happy place.

[matchasprouts]

The Walls - Chapter 3

[ couldn't write for a while but [ hands you a glimpse into Felix's gay brain ] come and get your juice ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

It took a while after getting upstairs for Felix to grab everything he needed (literally just the clothes he was going to change into, he was just easily distracted), but finally he was in the bathroom.

He didn’t shower in the mansion bathroom very often, since he lived in the cabin on the property, so he was immediately worried about the thing in the walls.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to check.

Slowly, he made his way over to the most uncluttered wall that would have the crawl space attached to it. He knew it wasn’t omniscient, so if it were far enough away, it wouldn’t hear him. Hopefully it would be attached enough to Greta that it would be downstairs.

He paused for a moment, let out a breath, and lightly knocked three times on the wall. Three knocks was a greeting, or a goodbye between them. The thing usually only took a few seconds to respond.

…

Silence. Felix let out a sigh of relief, making his way over to the shower and turning it on. It was an old shower, but comfortable. He really did enjoy any chance he could use it without worry.

After a few seconds of making sure the water was at the right temperature, he started getting undressed. The overalls were off first, followed by the sweater he wore in the colder seasons. And then there was his binder.

He used to struggle a lot more with taking it off when he first started wearing it, but now he pulled it over his head without a fight. He draped it over the sink, away from his dirtied clothes, since he only really washed it when he absolutely needed to.

The water was almost scalding when Felix stepped into it, but that was on purpose. He’d basically shot his nerves when it came to hot water, barely feeling it if it wasn’t hot enough to leave marks on his skin.

He’d been told multiple times to go to therapy because of this. He assumed his nerves were so fucked because of the arson. Who fucking knows, he refused to go to a doctor.

The shower didn’t last very long, Felix just took as long as he needed to get the dirt off him and be done. The longest part was his hair, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he’d even gotten all the soap out of his hair by the time he stepped out of the shower.

It was while he was drying off his hair that he noticed the change in the room. Next to the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d laid out to change into sat a dark green, and very large, cardigan.

Felix knew for a damn fact that he hadn’t put that there. He didn’t even own cardigans- just an assload of sweaters. So where did this come from? It was too large to belong to Greta, too tattered too.

After a few seconds, it clicked. It belonged to the thing in the walls. The thing that always heard him complaining about the cold, or how it was hard to hide when he wasn’t wearing a binder.

And, it seemed, it finally did something about it.

Theoretically, he enjoyed the gesture. He was definitely going to wear it, the warmth was worth it, but still… this meant that it had come in while he was showering, and he hadn’t heard it. That didn’t imply good things.

He got dressed quickly, pausing before pulling on the cardigan. It was huge on him, even though he was average height and pretty well built. It smelled like wood, and smoke. It was… incredibly comfortable too.

After quickly glancing in the mirror, the green of the cardigan making the green of his eyes really pop. It probably helped that he was extra pale from the blast of hot water, bringing his freckles out as well.

He didn’t look too long. Felix didn’t like his face, and staring at it would make him shut down.

---

Greta had already started on dinner when he made it to the kitchen, and he was pleased to find Brahms sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey. Sorry if you’ve been waiting long,” he said, rolling up the cardigan sleeves and jumping right into helping. She was making a soup apparently, probably because they didn’t have much at the moment. Malcolm was supposed to deliver some groceries tomorrow.

“Don’t worry about it,” Greta replied, handing him a knife and some vegetables to cut. He didn’t hesitate before getting into it, making quick work of them. “I hope soup is okay. We really need groceries.”

Felix hummed in response, keeping most of his focus on what he was doing. “Soup is always good, I’m just glad we could make something at all.”

Silence fell after that. They weren’t friends, they really didn’t have all that much to talk about. So they worked. At least it made the cooking go faster.

---

“So, where’d this come from?” Greta asked after they were finished and sitting down to eat, gesturing to the cardigan. He was surprised she could tell that it wasn’t his, especially because she knew next to nothing about him. Maybe it was because it was so big, or because of it being a dark colour.

Felix shrugged at the question, not willing to scare her off when Brahms clearly liked her. “It just kind of showed up. I’ve probably had it for years without realizing it. I can be forgetful like that sometimes.” No, he couldn’t. Distractible? Sure. Forgetful? Unfortunately, his memory was near photographic.

But Greta accepted it without question, just like he thought she would. It seemed like she was doing everything she possibly could to not question anything about this house. He vaguely wondered if she had seen Brahms move yet, but he doubted it.

When they were finished, it was Brahms’s bedtime. After making Greta promise she would follow the bedtime rules properly, he let her go to put the doll to bed, cleaning up the kitchen for her.

He heard rustling in the walls as Greta headed upstairs and smiled slightly to himself, knowing that the wall thing was making sure that she followed the rules.

The thought made him pull the cardigan tighter against himself, surprised at his own fondness toward the thing. Six years was a long time to grow attached to something, and he was honestly fine with being attached to it. After all, he never truly interacted with it. It probably wouldn’t hurt him.

Probably.

He shook those thoughts away, finished cleaning, and headed upstairs for bed. Greta’s door was already closed, Brahms was in bed, and the walls were quiet. Felix inspected his temporary bedroom once arriving at it, only laying down when he was satisfied that it was empty.

For once, sleep came easy.

---

The next morning, Felix woke up before Greta, and about an hour before Brahms needed to be woken up. Happy for the chance to get something done without Greta in the way, or needing to look out for Brahms, he wasted no time in getting up and dressed. He laid the cardigan out neatly on his bed for the thing to take back, making sure to close the door when he left the room.

Once downstairs he did some cleaning to take a bit of the workload off of Greta. Before heading out to do his gardening, he paused, glancing around the kitchen. They really needed that grocery delivery today, but he figured he could make breakfast before becoming the garden cryptid again.

So, he made something simple and wouldn’t need to be warm, put it in the fridge, and left a note for Greta. Once satisfied, he grabbed his gloves and headed outside. He’d probably come back in when Malcolm got there, just because there was something he’d need for later that he needed to ask him to grab.

It was time for Brahms to be woken up by the time Felix had started his gardening, a small smile crossing his lips when he looked up at the window and saw the light click on, followed by Greta opening up the curtains.

Well, maybe she was finally taking him seriously. He hoped so. He would sure hate to hate someone like her. She was nice and all, and really the only off thing that she’d done so far was not take care of Brahms right.

How unfortunate that that would change.

Felix happened to walk in during a conversation between Greta and Malcolm, relieved he hadn’t missed the man. He only caught part of the conversation, something about going out tonight. He didn’t hear Greta’s response, so he wasn’t annoyed yet, but it was getting there.

“Hey Malcolm,” he said as he grabbed a bottle of water, taking a sip before continuing, “could you grab something for me next time you go out? Nothing time sensitive or anything, it would just make my life a little easier.

Malcolm, sensing the change in conversation, replied without hesitation. “Sure man, what do you need?”

“A new pair of garden gloves, mine are falling apart. I’d get them myself but I don’t have a car and you know I don’t like leaving the grounds.” Felix was a little surprised when Malcolm nodded and wrote it down, but relieved. He really did need those gloves.

“I can grab ‘em for you today, I’ll be coming back tonight anyway,” Malcolm said as he tucked the small notepad back into his jacket. Felix immediately narrowed his eyes at him, his expression asking the “why” that he didn’t vocalize.

That’s when Greta cleared her throat and stepped in. “Malcolm offered to take me out to see the town tonight, and I accepted,” she explained, cringing at the harsh glare Felix sent her way. Before he could say anything, she continued, “Brahms will already be in bed by the time I leave! So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about? She was breaking the rules! And it would know!! It was significantly more dangerous than Felix was!!!

He let out a sigh that bordered dangerously on a growl, before running a hand through his short hair and deciding that this was a battle he shouldn’t fight. “Whatever. Don’t say shit to me when something bad happens because you chose to break the rules.”

“Oh, come on man, she shouldn’t be cooped up in here-” Malcolm tried to step in, only to be cut off by Felix’s shears hitting the table hard enough that it shook.

“Don’t try to tell me what should or should not be happening here!” he snapped, the rage bubbling over before he could stop it. It was his fatal flaw- shortest temper in the Shaw family. “All I know is that she’s breaking the damn rules, and we’re all gonna get hell because of it!”

He hated arguing. He did. So, with that, before they could continue, he stormed off. Before he knew it, he had slammed his bedroom door and fallen heavily onto his bed. It took a godly amount of self control to not break anything, but he managed.

This was slowly but surely turning into a fucking nightmare.

[b00t-s]

We're all gossip-y bitches sometimes

this is part two

Janus xey/xem

Roman she/he

Patton he/him

Virgil he/him

See the character intros for more info

TW. Swearing, arguments, alcohol, drunk characters, the word v//mit is used once, characters being characters, past trauma mentioned, tiny tiny tiny sprinkle of angst but just a passing of it at end, and nothing to intense

Again, tell me if I'm being insensitive. Shout at me if I am.

Summary: Patton goes to talk to Janus about Roman. The group opens...'some' bottles. Virgil adds on some...interesting opinions.

Events occur few hours after this.

Janus just finished xeir nightly shift when Patton came bounding up to xem. Janus raised an eyebrow at how ecstatic he looked.

"Yes?" Xey managed out, forcing back the hundreds of snarky comments xey could of said right then.

"Can you hang out at My house later?" Patton practically beamed out.

"why would I want to 'hang out'? It's just a social construct created to give people a higher sense of being." Janus remarked, flipping to closed/open side to closed.

"So you'll be there?"

"hmm. Will doom-and-gloom be there?

"doom and---ohhh, Virge. Yeah, probably," Patton realised now that this was a bad mix of people to invite "probably-probably not for long though!"

"Fine" Janus replied, taking off xeir apron. Xey ignored the obvious lie. "I'll be there in an hour." Xey knew one way or another xey would end up there due to Patton's... effective persuading.

"Great!" Patton exclaimed "oh yeah, and...um...it's raining outside so..take my umbrella, kay?"

His tone more serious all of a sudden, Patton nodded to Janus' heavily made up face, so well done an ignorant bystander wouldn't of noticed the thick layers of foundation on xeir face.

Patton handed xem a translucent umbrella, patterned with cute frogs and flowers, to Janus. Ignoring the distasteful cartoons, Janus nodded and took the umbrella.

"See you soon, Jan!" Patton cheerily waved as he bounced off.

Janus folded xeir apron, opened Patton's umbrella and braved the outdoors.

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

Janus arrived at Patton's house exactly on time, bone dry, despite the heavily flowing rain. Patton expected nothing less of his friend. He invited xem inside, amazed as always by his friend's everyday fashion.

Jan was wearing a casual yellow shirt over a long sleeved black shirt. Fishnet gloves adorned xeir hands, and xeir ruffled hair was let lose.

Xeir fashionably messy hair was topped with a neatly placed black fedora, which of xey never took off. Xey even scarred persuaded Thomas to let xem wear it to work.

Patton offered xem a smile, and walked xem upstairs. "Hi Jan!" He grinned.

"Hello" xey replied mundanely.

Xey absent-mindedly glanced at Patton's outfit, which contained a violet cashmere sweater, bell bottomed jeans, circular silver glasses and a sunflower clip in his perfect curls.

It was a good look, xey had to admit.

When they both reached Patton's room, Janus stood still, taking in xeir surroundings.

Patton's room was covered with things from the 2000's; Tamagotchi's, stickers pressed up against the pastel wall, stuffed animals, wristbands, old CD's, care bears posters and butterfly clips littering the floor in a deadly trap.

A trans flag was pinned above the single bed with blue tack, right next to some inspirational and motivational quotes.

The whole place looked like it had been puked on by unicorns.

It hurt Janus' eyes.

Xey was a little overwhelmed by all the spiraling colours and nostalgia-inducing objects, so xey sat cross-legged in the middle of the pink carpet. The world slowed down.

Janus wondered, not for the first time, how a 29 year old could be this cheerful.

.

Or appear this cheerful.

"Jan?"

Janus gave a small twitch of xeir head, realising that xey had spaced out. "Hmm?" Xey replied.

"Hey, you were up with the clouds! I was just saying, I think Virge is here" Patton chirped.

"oh"

"he...might be staying for a little longer then i said"

"How wonderful." Janus muttered, knowing this would happen but hating it anyway.

"oh, don't be like that! I'm sure you guys could become friends!" Janus snorted. "Or...at least not kill at each other whenever you're in the same general area" Patton corrected.

"Anyway! I'm going to greet him at the door!" He suddenly proclaimed, skipping downstairs.

Janus was disgusted at how naïve this man was.

But that was a lie.

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

Patton slowed his happy skip to a casual walk. His grin slipped into a content smile as he reached the end of the stairs. Being so happy takes its toll on people, he thought. Soft tapping of the door interrupted his thoughts as he opened the door to reveal Virgil.

The first thing you notice about this man was his unfair tall-ness. He nearly had to duck to get inside; being too skinny didn't help. Virgil was wearing a plain black hoodie over a mcr top, completing the look with a short, pleated skirt and docs. His face was slathered in white foundation, accompanied with dark eyeshadow under his eyes.

"Virge!! I'm glad you could make it, even if you are late!!Again!" Patton hugged his friend, genuinely glad for his presence. The taller man patted Patton's curls awkwardly.

"Heyyyy Pat-" Virgil did the awkward pats on the back everyone does when they want to get out of a hug but don't want to say it in fear of hurting ones feelings. "Traffic-"

Patton withdrew from the hug and smiled. "okay! at least you're here safe! Can't control the traffic"

"Janus is waiting for us upstairs" Patton continued. He hurriedly carried on speaking before Virgil could spit out an insult about xem "say, you know what I hate about stairs? They're always up to something!" Patton laughed at his own joke, whilst Virgil pretended to face-palm, hiding a snigger.

"Alright, Alright dAd, didn't you say snake face was waiting for us?" Virgil mocked. Patton chuckled uncomfortably at the nickname, but nodded nonetheless.

"Yeah, we shouldn't leave xem waiting"

They both entered his room, having walked the short journey there in a comfortable silence. Patton noted Janus had not moved from were he left xem; xey had just shifted to read a book xey most likely found lying around. Janus looked up upon their arrival, xeir face immediately twisting into a mocking grimace upon seeing Virgil. "ah, you brought the racoon"

"Janus play nice--"

"you're one to talk, you participated in 2012 Tumblr" Virgil threw back

"must you be so wounding" Janus dramatically threw xeir hand against xeir forehead.

"okAY, that's enough guys." Patton firmly said. Janus pulled a face in reply, and Virgil returned the favour. Patton sighed. He just wanted them to get along, which was probably a high expectation by itself.

Perhaps he had booze leftover somewhere.

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

Twelve near fist fights, two crying sessions and many, many, many bottles of alcohol later, it was nearing eleven pm and the group was drunker than a litter of catnip high kittens.

They all crowded into a close-knit circle on the bed, nearly falling off but not caring.

"ssso your telling me that flashy asss hhimbo sssssaid I wasss hot but then rude and that I wore too muchh makeup? What a *hic* bitchh" Janus hissed.

Patton giggled. "yeeeeee, be nice though! She was kindaaaa alllllllll over the place!" Patton continued bluntly, "But how would you feel if I set you guys up????~"

"oh pleassssse do, I would just love that" Janus may be trashed but xey still knew sarcasm. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending who you are, Patton did not.

"yayyy! This is gonna be great!!"

Virgil butted in then, waving around the bottle he was holding "hold on, just holllld on a minute there, you're planning to set up that" he vaugly gestured in Janus' direction "with Princy??? Xey've known her for what, 4 minutes? Life isn't a disney movie"

"Dare I detect a hint of jealousy there emo?" Janus purred "am I that lovable?" Xey hiccuped.

"ooooooooh" Patton leaned into the circle, loving the drunk drama.

"wouldn't you like to know weather boy" Virgil droned back, finishing off the bottle.

"Honey, I would dare ssay that was a yesss"

"nO"

"oooooo, you liiiiike meeeEe"

"you disgust me"

"kinky"

Patton shook his hands excitingly at them, nearly hitting Virgil, causing them to shut up. "I can't believe you're finally open to a relationship after what happened! With my best friend no least! Boy did I try to get you to go on more dat--" Patton suddenly clasped his hands over his mouth as if he just said something nasty.

.

.

Everyone went silent. Janus stared at Patron, xeir mouth slightly parted. Virgil laughed nervously to try and break the tension. It sounded strained.

Janus began to speak to stop Patton from starting to spout drunken apologies. "Well thatssss jusst a liee, I've dated pleeenty of people over..well...that...period..of time."

Everyone went silent again, not quite sure on what to say.

Virgil's anxiety was heightening due to the social awkwardness and the influence of the alcohol.

Patton was fidgeting in his lap.

It was Janus yet again who broke the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Sssso, *hic* you ssaid you wanted me to go out with thisss idiot?"

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

first-previous-next

updated masterpost

tag list: @arrowthenon-binaryroyalty, @spellingwillbethedeathofme,

ask if you want to be added or removed from tag list

and we meet our boi virgil

context is for losers

i could of probably cut out unnecessary things in that but y'know I'm new and I like it

these posts will be in chronological order, unless flashback, but it's not following a set-in-stone story line, so asks are, yet again, much appreciated.

I procrastinated too much during the making of this

[pagingevilspawn]

Loving You Is A Losing Game - chapter eight

i suck at updating. i also remembered that i have another book i’m working on, so i’m trying to write all of that before i publish the first chapter. so its been fun. 

this chapter is written like an eleven year old girl wrote it, and for that i apologize. i’m tired. hope you like it though... and also, i know that teddy doesn't come until after the merger, but i'm changing that because otherwise there is no one for cardio

~*~

"oh, oh, all i know, all i know, loving you is a losing game"

~*~

alex karev was having a good day. a really good day actually. izzie wasn't as determined to go back to work as he thought she would be, and didn't try to argue with him when he told her that she needed to stay home. he hadn't seen any bears that morning (those things are freakin terrifying), and he had a small texting session with jo, which inevitably made him laugh as she rambled on about absolutely nothing. yeah, it was a good day, and he just hoped that it would stay that way.

he walked into the hospital leisurely since he —for once in his life— wasn't late.  he stopped by the coffee cart and ordered a straight black coffee, giving the cashier a half hearted attempt at a smile before making his way to the resident's lounge and changing into his scrubs. he felt a sense of calm in him. he knew that something was probably bound to happen at some point, but right now he was going to enjoy the silence of the lounge (a major rare) before the storm hit. because it always did right? that's how it had been his whole life. happy kid, bam, dad starts using. dad starts using, mom's conditions gets worse. mom's conditions get worse, she had more kids.  

he knew it wasn't fair of him to call his little siblings a storm, but in a way they were. it made him have to grow up a hell of a lot younger than other kids his age. so bam, siblings. then he starts his surgical internship, which leads to a crazy amount of drama. he gets married, then cheats on his wife. if you ask him, that was a whole lot of storms. but right at this moment, there was no storm. there was just a guy lying down on a bench as people chattered in the halls. a guy with his eyes closed as he lets his mind go completely blank, not thinking about anything at all except the white noise he seemed to hear.

it was peaceful, he couldn't remember the last time he wasn't worried about his wife or his friends. right now it was just him, not worrying about anybody or anything, not even himself. he just relaxed and let the white noise take over.

but of course, moments of calm must come to an end. his pager breaks him out of his state, rubbing his eyes before finding doctor robbins, who was paging him to the PICU.

"what happened?" he asks a nurse, pulling on a pair of gloves as he entered the room of jeremy thomas, a six year old who came in a few days ago after he had fallen out of the tree he was climbing, a not so rare occurrence in peds. he had some internal bleeding that they were able repair and a minor concussion, but otherwise seemed to be doing fine. until now that is, his monitors seeming to be beeping out of control in the otherwise quietness of the sterile four walls, nurses rushing in to help.

he watches as arizona brings two different ultrasound machines into the room, immediately paging cardio as alex tries to consult the crying parents, leading them out into the hall and onto chairs, giving them reassuring words as he makes his way back in, robbins looking up at him immediately. "his appendix burst." the blonde says, not having time to say more as doctor altman enters the room, performing a cardiac ultrasound, pursing her lips as she analyzes the screen.

"we missed it before, but he tore his aorta. it was too small to see when he first came in, but we need to get him up to the OR right now." she states, already unlatching the wheels of the bed as she shouts orders to nurses, letting them know that an operation room needed to be prepped and ready for them. they roll jeremy up to surgery, scrubbing in as quickly as they could before beginning the operation. he watches as the two women stick out their hands, taking a deep breath before they begin.

"ten blade."

____  

"suction! i need suction!" altman says frantically to her resident, trying to stop the bleeder as quickly as she could. alex feels his heart drop at the sight of the kid in front of him. there was so much blood pooling in his chest, and no matter how much suction he knew the scrawny resident applied, the kid was too far gone. he was hands deep in the boys abdomen, helping robbins suture as she looked for any more damage done to the boy.  

when the monitors begin to draw out in a straight line and he hears the cardio surgeon yell clear! he knows that it was a lost cause. they shock the boy three times, teddy letting out a loud sigh as she shakes her head defeatedly.

"call it karev" arizona says to him.

alex gulps, this was his least favorite part about being a surgeon, not only calling time of death, but doing it to a kid. and this child was only six years old. he'd never grow up. never go to a high school formal or experience his first love. his life ended because he fell out of a tree. how freaking screwed up was that?

"time of death, 10:13 am." he sighs, immediately ripping off his gown and gloves, thrusting them into the bin, the attendings not far behind him. he tears his light blue scrub cap off, leaning into the scrub sink as he watches the younger resident close up the patient, nurses cleaning up the blood and lap pads on the ground. alex shakes his head and lets a slow breath escape his lips. he always had to calm himself down after losing a kid, and he's lost a fair amount of them in his nearly four years at seattle grace. it made him mad. mad that the universe could take something, no, someone so innocent from this world while there were people like his dad who were running around free. well, he was free when alex was a kid. maybe jimmy was dead now, who knew. but that didn't change the fact that a kid was dead and awful people were out there, living their best life.

arizona gives his shoulder a small rub, silently telling him that he did good in there, it just wasn't enough. the three scrub out alongside each other, alex taking in the attending's appearances, arizona looked exhausted and like she hadn't slept in days, while altman, who he didn't know very well, looked stressed. seems like he'd be talking to the parents.

"i'll tell the thomas's" he says, already beginning to jog down the hall before he sees the taller blonde catch up to him, saying something about how they both needed to be there, big guns and all. when he tells the parents the news he feels the overwhelming urge to just quit again. it happened every time. those cries haunted him. it hurt him when he lost patients, but this was someone these parents loved more than life itself. their own flesh and blood, a product of their love for each other. but he wouldn't quit. he never did. instead, he would work in the skills lab to improve his technique and save more kids. that's what he would do.

there goes his good day. he didn't think it could get any worse, because let's be realistic, what was worse than losing a kid? nothing could make a day more crappy than that. that was until, when he passed by the chief's office to see his wife in a chair, talking to richard webber urgently, almost as if she was pleading.

he lets out a frustrated sigh, having the urge to punch a wall. of course it wouldn't have been that easy, how stupid of him to think otherwise. he should've known izzie would pull something like this. he knew how much this job meant to her. this was her home, just like him. but he was still pissed. she needed to be resting, she was still too weak to come back to work.

before he knew it he was barging into the chief's office, startling the blonde, but not so much the chief. he knew alex would turn up sooner or later.

"what the hell iz!" alex says angrily, glaring at his wife.

izzie lets out a frustrated sigh. "alex i need to be here." she says adamantly, standing up from her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. she was wearing a long sleeved beige sweater, even though it was hot inside of the office. that wasn't what alex would call being well enough to go back to work.

"no izzie, you need to go home and rest. you'll be fine." he says, running a hand through his hair as he watches the fire burn in her eyes. crap. he was trying to civil. he even used a softer voice, but yet she just got more angry.

"how the hell can you say that alex!" she yells, richard leaning back in his chair uncomfortably. he wasn't one who liked to be in the middle of drama. "i'm at that goddamn trailer all day while you're here!"

he lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his anger. if he didn't, he would snap. and if he snapped, izzie would ban him from the tin can the called their home and he would be forced to spend the night at mer's place, and he definitely didn't want to hear her and shepherd going at it. they were like bunnies, screwing each other everywhere at any time.

"iz, please. just go home and rest." he pleads with her. he couldn't deal with her getting sick again. he almost lost her last time. she died in his freaking arms. he couldn't go through that again... the helplessness, the pain. he loved her, but she died in his arms. he couldn't lose her. her loved her. he couldn't go through the hurt again, the heartache almost losing her brought on. it was gut wrenching and terrifying, it ate him up inside and loomed in his nightmares. he couldn't lose her, not to this cancer, not again.  

the blonde was about to say something when the chief steps in, leaning over his desk and clasping his hands in front of him, giving the woman sympathetic eyes. "karev's right stevens. go home and rest."

izzie swallows the lump growing in her throat. she wanted to argue. she wanted to say that she felt fine, that she was ready to go back to work, but she knew defying the chief would only get her in trouble. she sighs in defeat and nods her head, turning to glare at her husband. she was pissed. maybe she could've gotten richard to agree to letting her come back if he hadn't come in. now she would never know (she knew that realistically that wasn't the case, webber had been denying her requests since the moment she stepped though his office doors.)  

she brushes by alex without looking at him, making him sigh as he watches her walk down the catwalk and disappear around a corner. he turns back to the man and gives him a small, appreciative nod. he was too tired to manage a smile. the chief nods back, understanding how he felt.

he just wanted to go to joe's and have a beer, his crappy day taking a toll on him quickly. arguing with his wife always took a toll on him. it was exhausting. it seemed to drain him inside and out, making his brain lose it's function until he got to state of peace, which only occurred when he had a beer in his hand and was sipping it leisurely, or when he was able to lie down and sleep.

the beer sounded much more appealing, but he still had six more hours of his shift. normally, with the upcoming merger he would make sure to stay overtime, logging extra hours in the pit, scrounging for surgeries, but today he just didn't have the energy.

he makes it into the nearest on call room and crawls into one of the bottom bunks, setting his pager directly beside him so it would have no trouble waking him up when it went off. he lets out a yawn as he wraps the thin, uncomfortable blanket tightly around him as he drifts off the sleep, hoping to forget about the day he's had so far, even if it's just for a few minutes.

____        

when she woke up that morning nothing was out of the ordinary. She could hear the birds chirping their delightful songs, she could feel the duvet pulled up to her neck, and she could tell that paul wasn't in the bed with her. she was used to waking up like this, it was her idea of normal.

it wasn't until she tried to open her eyes she realized what was wrong. she couldn't open her left one. she was confused at first, until she felt the pain shoot through her body,  traveling from her eye to the rest of her body, feeling like how it did when she first received the punch. the memory of last night was a bit iffy. all she remembered was coming home from the party, getting punched, her husband saying he was sorry, and talking to alex.

that thought brings a small smile on her face, recalling the teasing that had happened the night before. she knew that their... whatever they had escalated quickly. in just a few days of knowing each other, they had learned so much about one another that it seemed like they had been best of friends since they were kids, but hey, if cheating on your spouse doesn't bring you together, what does?

she lets out a groan of pain, wincing as she finally pries her eye open, getting up slowly before making her way to the bathroom, frowning at the sight she saw in the mirror.  a dark purple bruise covered her left eye and the area surrounding it. she splashes some cold water on her face, gently patting it with a wet towel once she was done. last night changed a lot of things. something had been in paul's eyes when he hit her, something she hadn't seen before. it was like a billion fires were raging inside of him, and when he hit her, it was the burn.

but... he seemed so sorry after he had done it. at least she knew better now, he was just a bit jealous. he didn't want to lose her, he loved her. and if that meant he got a bit mad over her talking to his colleagues too much, then she wouldn't make the same mistake again.  

she walks out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, grabbing a pack of frozen peas from the fridge and wraps it in a towel, pressing it gently to her swollen bruise. the cold stings a bit at first, but she sucks it up as she leans against the marble island's counter, watching as the minute hand ticks by on the clock above the random painting her husband had hung on a wall. today she had nothing to do. it was a saturday, so she didn't have any classes, and she didn't have any work to do. no papers, essays, labs... the ultimate rare and what most would call the greatest blessing for a college student, but for her it just meant she had to sit around and watch TV until her husband got home.

she wanted to feel angry at paul, but how could she? she didn't have the right to be mad at him, she cheated on him. wouldn't that make her a hypocrite, being mad at her husband when she had done something worse?

she sighs as she sets herself down on the couch, turning on the TV and flipping it to some random channel, settling on a soap opera she had seen a few times play on the screen. her life felt a bit like a soap opera right now to be honest. actually, her whole life had.

welcome to 'the life of jo, (who's name isn't actually jo, its brooke)'. catchy title right? she thought so too.

last night, the feeling of paul holding her in his arms no longer made her feel safe. it felt wrong. she just wanted to feel safe again, that was all she really wanted. for him to hold her like a porcelain doll and place kisses on the top of her head. she had always felt safe then. why couldn't she feel that now?

she just wanted to feel safe again.  

____  

alex walks out of the hospital, head hung low with his hands buried deep in his pockets, letting out a deep exhale as he watches his feet move beneath him like they were the greatest movie he'd ever seen. anyone who passed by him on the street could probably take one look at him and tell that he had a crappy day.

he sighs as he contemplates the day he had so far. it was only seven thirty-three, yet it felt like he'd been up for forty eight hours. his quick nap in the on-call room only lasted a mere ten minutes before he was paged to the pit, only to find out that the kid he would be assisting on was a four year boy old with abusive parents. it took everything in him not to beat the shit out of the assholes.

add that to losing jeremy and izzie drama, he was exhausted. he didn't want to do anything. he wanted to feel at peace. he just wanted a little bit of normalcy, something he knew wasn't even close to possible, especially with his job.

alex leans against the brick wall in the ally way of joe's bar, pulling out his phone and clicking on the familiar contact.  

jo pulls out her ringing phone, a sigh a relief escaping her lips as she sees the name pop up on her screen. they speak it at the same time, words breathy and tired.

she says it because she wants to feel safe.

he says it because he wants to feel normal.

"when can i see you again?"

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Bloody Knuckles - Hwang Hyunjin Boxer Au

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, violence, blood

Requested by a few people 💕

The sound of fists hitting a punching bag sounded in your ears as you made your way into the gym. You were holding a water bottle and a protein shake for your boyfriend, Hyunjin, who was practicing on the punching bag. Hyunjin was a boxing trainee, rising high in the ranks of the rookies. He would come home sore, knuckles red, cheeks flushed and sweaty.

Your eyes landed on him, he was wearing a sleeveless shirt, his sides showing in it. Sweat was gleaming on his shoulders and biceps, his hair stuck to his forehead, eyes narrowed in concentration as he landed another punch to the bag. His hands were wrapped, which shocked you since he always wore his gloves. His headphones were in, music blaring out of them as he hopped around a bit and landed a few jabs to the punching bag. He looked pretty hot like that, if you were being honest. Sweaty, eyes full of concentration, his sleek black hair stuck to his face.

He stopped when he caught a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye. He pulled his headphones out and gave you a sweet smile as he walked over to you.

“Baby? What are you doing here?” He asked, his tired smile cuter than ever.

“I brought these for you.” You said, handing him the large water bottle and the protein shake.

“Ahh, thank you! I forgot to bring my water bottle.” He said, taking them from you and giving you a grateful kiss on your head.

“I know, that’s why I brought them.” You giggled. “You’re so clumsy Hyunjin.”

He chuckled and placed the water bottle and shake down, pulling you into a hug.

“Ew, Hyunjin! You’re sticky!” You whined as he pulled you into his sweat slicked body.

“You love me even when I’m sticky and sweaty.” He giggled.

“You’re lucky I do.” You sighed with a small laugh.

You were grateful Hyunjin never smelled, even when he was sweating. He always had this sweet, fresh smell to him. His long arms stayed around your waist as he pressed a sweet kiss to your head.

“How have you been baby?” He asked.

It’s been about a week since you’ve truly seen Hyunjin. He was always practicing, and you had college/university and work to attend to.

“I’ve been good Jinnie, how’s training coming?” You lied.

Yes, you were lying. You were seeing less and less of Hyunjin, and the stress from school and work was starting to get to you. Hyunjin would hardly talk to you sometimes, and you had begun to feel lonely. You missed his kisses, his hugs, his gentle touches, everything.

“I’ve been okay, missing you a lot though.” He said, placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’ve been missing you a lot too.” You said, pecking his lips.

“I should be done soon, why don’t we go back to my apartment and hangout for a bit? Maybe cook some dinner?” He asked.

“I’d love that.” You giggled.

“I won’t be long, if you’d like to stay.” He said with pleading eyes.

“Of course I’ll stay.” You said, kissing his nose.

He smiled at you as he took a swig from the water bottle and went back to the punching bag, putting his headphones back in and refocusing. You watched him with admiration, even when he huffed when he messed up. And that’s one thing you loved about Hyunjin, he never gave up. He kept trying until he got it right. His shoulders and chest glistened with sweat, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead almost took your breath away.

“You’ve been coming along well Hyunjin.” Chan said as he walked into the room.

Chan was Hyunjin’s trainer, and one of his closest friends. He had convinced Hyunjin, who had been a clumsy lanky kid at the time, to train to become a boxer. Hyunjin may have been scrawny and clumsy, packed a punch. And so Chan recruited him, and now two years later, Hyunjin was compact with muscle and learned how to land blows and to dodge them.

“Thank you Hyung.” Hyunjin said, bowing respectfully to Chan.

You bowed to Chan as he gave you a kind smile and bowed to you.

“I’m glad you’ve been practicing more, your first match will be a piece of cake.” Chan said.

Hyunjin froze and bit his lip as you slowly turned to him.

“Your first match?” You asked.

“Y-Yeah…” He stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You didn’t tell her?” Chan asked, shock in his eyes.

“No… I planned on telling her tonight.” Hyunjin sighed.

You looked at the both of them for a minute, biting your lip. Yeah Hyunjin has been training for two years, but he isn’t ready for a match!

“How long have you known?” You asked Hyunjin.

“.... A month and a half.” He said lowly.

You felt hurt at his words. He’s known for this long and didn’t tell you?

“When is it?” You asked him, your voice flat.

Hyunjin sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Three days.”

You fell silent as you grabbed your bag and headed towards the exit.

“Y/N, wait!” He called, grabbing his stuff and chasing you to your car.

You threw your bag in the passenger seat and locked the doors as he ran up and went to open the door to your car.

“Y/N please, let me explain!” He yelled so you could hear him.

You rolled your window down a little bit and glared at him.

“You hardly talk to me and hardly see me and don’t tell me the reason why! Have fun walking home!” You yelled, reversing fast and speeding off towards your apartment.

Hyunjin huffed as he watched your car disappear. He knew you had every right to be upset with him, but to make him walk home with all of his equipment while his car was out of commission was ridiculous.

“Do you need a ride home?” Chan asked.

“No,” Hyunjin grumbled. “I need to keep practicing. Then I’ll jog home with my stuff for a strength workout.

You stormed into your shared apartment and slammed the door, anger and hurt getting the better of you. Why couldn’t he just tell you? Why did he have to lie to you? Why couldn’t he just tell you these things?

You stormed around the house, throwing chicken into a pan and stirring some heavy cream and parmesan cheese into another, making an alfredo sauce (I love me some cream sauces). As the you mixed the chicken and pasta with the sauce, you felt a little guilty. Maybe after you finished stirring the food you should go pick him up, he must be exhausted. Yeah, you were still mad at him, but you knew you may have overreacted a little.

Just when you were about to text him, the door to your apartment swung open and Hyunjin stepped in, huffing as he set his heavy bag down and threw his bandana on the ground next to it.

“I was just about to text you-“

“Of course you were!” He cut you off, his voice booming. “You wouldn’t even let me explain! I couldn’t even focus because I knew you were mad at me!”

“Hyunjin I-“

“Why did you have to storm off like that?! You know how much this job means to me! You know I have to take this seriously!” He yelled.

“Hyunjin-“

“And you seriously told me to walk the fuck home?! What kind of girlfriend does that! Why couldn’t you just-“

*sniff*

Hyunjin stopped when you brought your sweater paw up to your cheek as tears streamed down your face.

“You lied to me about it! I stay here b-by myself because you’re always too busy! I eat alone, I wake up alone, I sleep alone! All because you couldn’t t-tell me the truth, you idiot!” You sobbed. “I wait for you to come home! I hardly even hear an ‘I love you’ anymore! I just don’t want you to get hurt!”

Hyunjin was silent as you turned away, soft sobs leaving your lips as you tried to calm yourself down. You felt his arms wrap around your middle, his face going into the crook of your neck as he held you from behind.

“I’m sorry my love, I’m sorry.” He whispered.

His veins in his arms were popping out from working as hard as he was, you could feel how tense his muscles in his chest and arms felt. He had walked home for sure, even after he trained.

“I sh-shouldn’t of been me-mean to you.” You sobbed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothed you, rubbing your arms. “It’s okay baby.”

You turned around and buried your face into his neck, your arms around him tightly as you cried into his neck.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been neglecting you baby. I love you so much, please don’t ever forget that.” He whispered, placing kisses on your head.

He rubbed your back and pressed soft kisses to your head as you slowly relaxed, before pulling away and wiping your eyes with your sleeves. Hyunjin took the opportunity to attacked your face and neck in kisses, making you giggle as he did so.

“Hyunjin, that tickles!” You giggled as you tried to squirm away.

“I have to make up for all of the kisses you didn’t get.” He giggled as he continued to leave kisses all over.

You tried to get him off as you laughed from his lips tickling your skin, and you clumsily hit the couch with your leg and fell back, Hyunjin falling with you and hovering over you. He smiled as he looked down at you, and you blushed under his gaze. You and Hyunjin have been intimate before, but now seeing his sexy, post workout state made you flustered. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, his soft pillowy lips making you melt. His hand found your cheek as he deepened the kiss, pressing his hips against yours as he softly nipped your lips.

“Hyunjin wait.” You rasped when you were able to get air.

“Hm?” He asked, lifting himself up.

“The smell of the food is making me hungry, and you’re all sticky.” You pointed out, scrunching your nose.

He got up and slapped your ass, making you squeal as a laugh left his lips. “I’ll go shower, then we’ll eat together.”

You set the table as he showered, and he came out in just a pair of joggers. His muscular chest shone with droplets of water as he towel tried his dark hair, and you admired it when he stopped, his dark, damp hair messy. He looked breathtaking that way.

“I’m starving- is that Alfredo?” He asked.

You nodded and he happily pranced over and sat down as you put food on each of your plates. You grabbed out a bottle of wine and giggled when Hyunjin’s eyes lit up.

“It’s no five star restaurant babe.” You laughed.

“No- but I love your cooking better than any restaurant.” He said.

You blushed and stabbed a small piece of chicken with your fork.

“It’s not all that Jinnie.” You giggled.

“Maybe to you, but I always feel better after I eat your food.” He said, then smirked and quirked a brow. “And after I eat you.”

You flicked a piece of chicken at him and the sauce splashed on his chest, making him gasp as he looked down.

“I just showered!” He gasped.

You started laughing at his reaction and he gave you a fake glare, although he was unable to hide his smile.

“You’ll regret that!” He yelled, hopping up and grabbing you.

You squealed when he lifted you from the chair at the table and lifted you over his shoulder, swinging you around and starting to tickle you.

“Hyunjin! St-Stop!” You laughed out.

“Apologize!” He laughed.

“Never!” You wheezed out.

He kept tickling you until you were red and needing air, and you laid on the ground where he had dropped you, gasping for breath.

“Hey- are you okay? I’m sorry, I probably should’ve stopped a while ago.” He said, holding you up while you breathed. “You took that like a champ though.”

You giggled then groaned as your sides hurt from laughing. He helped you back up as you both sat at the table, his hand finding yours as he took a sip of his wine.

“I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.” You said back, squeezing his hand.

After dinner you both did the dishes and you headed into the bathroom, Hyunjin following you as you got into the shower and sliding the glass door closed.

“What are you doing?” You asked with a giggle. “You already showered.”

“I know.” He said with a smirk, kissing up your bare shoulders as you felt him press against your bare lower half. “I just wanna finish what we started earlier.”

You walked beside Hyunjin, your hand in his larger hand as you headed to a cafe. Tomorrow is his match, and to say you were scared was an understatement. You’ve heard of so many horror stories of how badly people have gotten hurt while boxing, and you didn’t want Hyunjin to be one of those people. His knuckles were already scrapped and bruised from practicing too much, and you were thankful Chan had given him off since the night of your argument so he could get as much rest as possible. You sat down as Hyunjin grabbed your drinks, and you toyed with the promise ring he had gotten you a few years ago. You loved Hyunjin even before he got stronger, even before he thought of himself as a somebody. You didn’t care about how strong he was, because no matter how strong he was, he was always so gentle and careful with you.

“You okay?” He asked as he set both drinks down.

“Oh, yeah. I’m still a little sleepy.” You giggled.

“Did I keep you up last night?” He asked with a small smirk and a raise of his eyebrow.

You rolled up the paper you had peeled off the straw into a ball and flicked it at him. He closed his eyes as it bounced off the tip of his nose, and then he slowly opened his eyes and twitched his nose. “You know you love it.”

“Pervert.” You giggled.

Although the was being a perv, it was true. You and Hyunjin have been having quite a bit of fun the past few days that he’s been home, and even this morning. He held your hand from across the table and flashed you his sweet, bright white smile that made your heart flutter. And even after all this time that the two of you have been together, it still has the same effect on you.

“Aren’t you Hwang Hyunjin?” A man asked.

Hyunjin turned his head and nodded. “Who are you?”

“Your opponent's manager.” He answered with a smirk.

You almost choked on your drink when a very large man came up behind him. He had to be over six foot- and he was pure muscle. His arms were the size of your head.

“This is Big Matthew, or BM, and he’ll be seeing you in the ring tomorrow.” The man said.

Hyunjin looked up at him, a look of irritation across his face when he saw Big Matthew staring at you.

“Maybe you should size up your opponent, not his girlfriend's chest.” Hyunjin growled.

Big Matthew’s eyes went to his and he gave him a dark smirk as he began to walk away.

“See you in the ring, pipsqueak.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw but said nothing, his eyes going to your face and softening when he saw the color from your face gone.

“It’s okay, they left. C’mon, let’s go home and rest up.” He said, rubbing your hand with his thumb.

You both walked back to your apartment in silence, and you quickly headed for the bedroom. You silently sat on edge of the bed as he was laying propped up against the pillows.

“Come here baby.” He said, opening his arms.

You slipped in between them and buried your face into his warm chest, comfort in his warmth and scent beginning to calm your nerves.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, stroking your hair.

“That man… He’s huge Hyunjin…” You whispered.

“I know baby, don’t worry, okay?” He asked softly.

You were silent for a moment, your eyes closed and buried into his chest. He slipped his hands on your cheeks and brought your face up, rubbing your cheeks with his fingers.

“Have faith in me baby, okay?” He whispered.

You nodded as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, pulling you back into his chest as you laid on top of him, your legs tangled together.

“Please promise me you’ll be careful.” You whispered.

“I’ll be careful baby, I promise.” He whispered.

You stood in the front of the boxing ring, your nerves wracking. You were beside Chan, who was standing with his arms crossed. Hyunjin had left early that morning to practice, and you hadn’t seen him since. You glanced over to the other side where Big Matthew’s fan base was, and there was so many of them compared to the little bit of people that knew of Hyunjin. You remembered how big the man was, and your stomach churned when you thought of him hitting your boyfriend multiple times with his massive hands.

“He’ll be okay.” Chan said, almost like he read your mind.

He rubbed your shoulder soothingly as you gave him an appreciative smile. The bell ringing made you snap your head up as Big Matthew stepped into the ring, screams and cheers blowing out your ear drums. When it died down, you watched the other side of the ropes move, and Hyunjin hopped out into the ring. You cheered loudly for him, and he turned and gave you a smile. You felt eyes on you as you smiled at him, your eyes roamed to Big Matthew, who was eyeing you down, and Hyunjin, who had noticed, hissed something at him. Big Matthew smirked as the two of them stepped up to each other, the Ref between them as he yelled out rules.

Your heart stopped when the Ref backed up and the bell rang, and the two men lifted their arms. They circled each other for a moment trying to find places to land a blow. Big Matthew jumped in first, throwing his fist to Hyunjin’s side. Hyunjin blocked it, but let out a grunt as Big Matthew lifted his other glove and socked him in the cheek. Hyunjin threw a hit that smacked into BM’s glove, then grunted again when BM hit him square in the face, blood leaking down from his lip that split open, and his nose.

You covered your mouth with your hand, tears filling your eyes when BM hit him in the stomach, then socked him in the jaw. Hyunjin shook his head, scarlet drops dripping down onto the floor of the ring. He threw a punch that was, again, deflected by BM’s glove and a loud grunt left his lips when BM’s fist met his eye, his eye brow splitting open. Blood leaked into his eye as he panted, shaking his head again as the Ref blew the bell.

Chan ran over to Hyunjin's side and poured water on his face, whispering something into Hyunjin’s ear. Hyunjin’s eyes went up and met yours, and he gave you a reassuring smile. His chest was shining with blood and sweat, and Chan patted his shoulder as he jumped back into the middle with BM. They both circled each other again, this time Hyunjin swinging first, just barely dodging BM’s fist and clocking him in his jaw, then his nose. BM threw a punch and it hit Hyunjin in his side, making him stagger back and then leap back in. Tears leaked down your cheeks as they both covered each other in blows, blood staining their chests, shoulders, and faces. Hyunjin staggered back first, panting heavily. His eye was dark purple and swelling, the blood from his split eyebrow getting into it. His lips were dripping blood, staining his chin and chest, a massive gash beneath his eyes dripping down his jaw line.

BM didn’t look much better, his one ear was split at the top from getting hit too hard, his nose was purple and looked crooked, and you knew it was broken. His cheek was puffy and blood painted his swollen lips. BM again jumped in first, and threw a punch so hard it echoed when it made contact with Hyunjin’s face. Hyunjin hit the rope and went to bounce back, when BM cornered him and rained blows onto him, most of them he was unable to dodge. Blood splattered on the ground, but Hyunjin held his ground and made one, massive punch to BM’s stomach that sent him on the ground, wheezing and holding himself. The Ref called it a win and you stood up, tears still flowing from your eyes. Hyunjin lifted his head and gave you a pained smile as you ran into the ring. You gasped when he dropped, his head on your shoulder as his eyes closed. His arms were limply around you, his breathing coming out in wheezes.

“Hyunjin!” You sobbed, tangling your fingers in his damp hair as you clutches him to you. “Wake up idiot!”

“It’s okay.” He whispered shakily. “I did it. I won... For you.”

You sat on the bed, wiping Hyunjin’s swollen eye. You had cleaned him up good, his face no longer stained red, his hair cleaned from sweat and blood. He was badly banged up, lucky to even still be standing after what had happened. You went to turn away when he grabbed your cheek, gently running over it with his thumb. His hands were wrapped, bruised and bloody beneath it. But his eyes were still shining as he placed a soft, careful kiss to your head.

“Thank you for being there for me today baby. You’re my lucky charm, I couldn’t have won without you.” He whispered.

He pulled you into his arms and you buried your face into the crook of his neck, clutching his sleeveless shirt tightly.

“I’m sorry I got so hurt, I’m sorry you had to see that.” He whispered as he felt how shaky you still were.

“Don’t apologize Hyunjin, I’m sorry if it seemed like I wasn’t confident in you. I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t want to see me like this.” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. “I know baby, I know. I know you believe in me, I know you just worry. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn’t have won.”

He stroked your hair and held you close to him, pressing kisses to your hair.

“You’re my lucky charm.” He whispered, pressing you into the mattress as he covered you in soft kisses. “My precious, lucky charm.”

[unsteadygalaxy]

all is soft inside chapter 12

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on Ao3, my username is the same there!

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12. give me a piece of your heart

A quick note: I have the Pathfinder's Quest book and I finished it today (Feb 2nd 2021)! It was mind-blowing and amazing and SO, SO GOOD. Unfortunately, this fic can no longer fit into canon because of what we find out about Bloodhound. Don't worry, I won't be spoiling! I had a story set up for them before I read the lore book, and that's the story I'll be sticking to. Maybe one day I'll write some canon things, but for now, this story is no longer canon-compliant. Part of me is sad to have all the answers, but hey! That's what makes canon-divergent fics so fun :)

Elliott practically flies down the street towards the Legends’ apartment complex, bursting with nervousness and energy as he goes. The torrential downpour of rain doesn’t even manage to dampen his mood; he’s got a heavy-duty umbrella and an upbeat attitude that could make the skies clear up in moments. Bloodhound’s proposition hangs in his head, and he clings to it with an embarrassing neediness. ‘Would you like to visit me in my apartment later this evening?’ they had asked, and he thought his heart would burst out of his chest. He feels like a dumbass for the way he had reacted- god, he was so lame. Falling over his words, making the simplest mistakes… What fourteen year old in the area had reached out and possessed him? Whoever it was, he’d have to have a strong talk with them later.

After arriving back to his apartment above the bar, he’d scrubbed himself clean and very meticulously arranged his hair. He’d eventually chosen a deep purple sweater over a light blue button down, a pair of his nicer dark jeans, a black belt, and sneakers to wear for the evening. He’d hemmed and hawed in front of the mirror for at least twenty minutes, rolling and unrolling his sleeves, second guessing each outfit choice he made until he settled. He had decided to keep the sleeves rolled up, but the easy confidence he usually has in himself has chosen to take a pointed leave of absence.

Elliott really does feel like a teenager obsessing over their first date all over again, but he has to remind himself it’s not a date, it’s just a talk. A nice evening in. A nice evening alone with Bloodhound. His cheeks blaze, and the enormity of his crush on them plummets onto his head all at once. 

Ahh, shit.

He finally lets his thoughts race and wander while thinking about them. For the first time in days, he lets himself linger on his memories of their face, though the quick glimpse he had gotten had not left him with much to remember. Their gorgeous red hair, their piercing green eyes, the striking contours of their face… They are so beautiful, and he would do anything to see their face again.

A giddy smile crosses his face when he thinks of all the times they’ve touched him on the arm or on the shoulder, or held his hands so softly. They had exuded kindness and compassion in those moments, the genuineness of which Elliott has not truly felt in a while. Bloodhound’s quiet vulnerability in the bar the other night had struck him as both odd and humbling; their increasing trust in him is something he definitely doesn’t want to take for granted. 

The complex comes into view and Elliott’s heart starts to pound harder in his chest. It takes a great deal of effort to not run all the way to their door… until he realizes he doesn’t know which floor is theirs, much less which door.

Bzzt! His phone vibrates in his back pocket, and he jumps a little before retrieving it. A message from an unknown number is emblazoned across the lock screen:

Second floor, number 14.

-BH

Excitement and happiness surges through his veins, and he immediately saves their contact information. God, is he really that pumped about having their number? A big stupid smile stretches across his face, and he wants to smack himself. Chill, Elliott, chill. You’ve gotta get ahold of yourself before you get up there. He takes a deep breath and sends a quick reply to Bloodhound as he continues down the sidewalk, valiantly avoiding the puddles. 

Nearly there! How’d you get my number?

A reply flashes through faster than he thought it would.

Renee owed me a favor. I hope it is all right that I asked her.

Oh, yeah, that’s fine! No problem :)

He has to physically restrain himself from adding a little heart; Renee or Octavio or Makoa were used to his nonsense, but he figures Bloodhound would only find it strange for him to be adding those things to his texts right off the bat. He’s busy smiling off into space when his phone vibrates again.

I am looking forward to seeing you.

Elliott’s heart practically explodes in his chest, and he steps right into a puddle.

------

Bloodhound can’t stay still.

Ever since those traitorous words had fallen from their mouth, they’d been on red alert, their brain and body a hopeless torrent of conflicting emotions that hadn’t quite settled. They think it’s fitting that it is raining; it seems the Allfather is showing his sympathies in the smallest of ways. The rain patters against the windows in a steady rhythm, and under any other circumstance it would have been very calming. They would have shed the mask and goggles and snuggled into the couch with a book and a cup of tea, but tonight, that isn’t an option. Instead, they’re wandering aimlessly around their apartment- cleaning corners that don’t really need to be cleaned, tending to Artur, and sipping at a glass of water every time they walk by the kitchen.

They’d hopped into the shower immediately after arriving home and cleaned every inch of their skin with an annoying attention to detail. Their anxiety had mounted in their chest until they had had to sit on the cold tiles of the shower with their head between their legs. Everything is going to be fine, they’d repeated to themself over and over again. Elliott would never hurt you.

The thought is ironic because of the stubborn headache at the base of their skull- Boone’s pain medicine had done little to abate the throbbing in their neck. As they think back on their day, they feel a surge of pride for Elliott. It seems that he is finally allowing himself to succeed, instead of limiting himself like he had before. He had truly surprised them today. Where they had once seen hesitation and worry, it had been replaced with deadly precision and focus, and Bloodhound would not change the outcome of the match even if they could. Elliott had been a wonderful sight to behold.

The frantic fear is nearly gone, but it lingers just enough to make them a little self-conscious. Opting not to wear their Games attire, they’ve picked a thick turtleneck, fitted cargo pants, woolen socks, and a slimmer pair of gloves that will hide their hands but not hinder any movement. The mask is laid on the table, ready to be put on at a moment’s notice. They’re already wearing the helmet, their goggles, and the leather cap. They’ve always hated having to pile wet hair under the hood, but their plans left them no choice. Bloodhound hasn’t cared much about their physical appearance in years, but for some reason, the idea of being alone with Elliott again makes them want to hide away in embarrassment.

An eager knock at the door startles Bloodhound, and they very nearly knock over their glass.

Their heart starts pumping in their chest, and their fingers fumble a little as they clip the respirator to the cap. Immediately, their breathing comes easier, and they scold themself for going so long without it this evening. Bloodhound makes their way to the door and opens it, revealing an absolutely drenched Elliott holding a broken umbrella in one hand and a pair of sopping wet sneakers in the other. 

“Hey! I, uh, definitely stepped in a ton of puddles on the way here. I usually watch where I’m going but these ones were sac- ski- scattered everywhere, so I couldn’t see them at all, and then of course the wind picked up and shredded my umbrella, so I’m totally soaked.” He shrugs helplessly and shakes the bent umbrella off a little, showering Bloodhound’s feet with droplets of water. “Ah, shit. Sorry!”

They shake their head at him and sigh, and a shiver goes through their body as they think about being drenched in this weather. “It is of no consequence, Elliott, I can very easily change socks. Please, come in,” they say, and they lead him into their apartment.

They try not to look at him as he takes in their apartment, suddenly insecure about how simple and bare it looks. The apartment had come furnished, but it is not quite to their tastes. Bloodhound prefers a more homey and warm feel, not the modern, sleek look that is so popular these days. The windows in the living room are quite large. Bloodhound had had a tinted effect added to them immediately- for their anonymity and so the light coming in would not be quite so harsh on their sensitive eyes. The furnishings are a combination of aesthetically pleasing colors and fabrics, all tones of white or grey or brown. A couple of plush blankets are draped over the back of the couch, and minimalistic frames are hung on the walls, great white voids containing typeface quotes and old cliches. The fireplace is an inordinate monolith of dark stone, and if Bloodhound had thought of it, they would have started a fire to make it seem less dull and boring. The thought occurs to them that they should have made this place more welcoming, but they are not vain enough to care in the long run. After all, will Elliott even want to return after he receives the answers to his questions? Bloodhound thinks not.

“Wow,” Elliott remarks, leaning his umbrella against the wall by the door. “It’s so clean.” He strips off his socks and rolls up his pants a little so the soggy ends aren’t rubbing around his ankles. The cuffs fit tightly around his very sculpted calves, and Bloodhound blushes before looking away pointedly.

“This space is not to my tastes,” they reply, watching him walk around. “My real home is much more notalegt- cozy- and warm. Not cold and unfeeling like this place is.” 

“Your real home?” he asks, glancing at them. “You don’t live in the Legends complexes full time?”

“I stay in the buildings during the on season, but during the off season, I retreat to a modest cabin in the woods,” they explain, and they realize they’ve made their first confession of the night. That... wasn’t so bad. “There are bookshelves from floor to ceiling, a large fireplace, plenty of furs to keep warm, and a view that would take your breath away. I quite enjoy it.” 

“That sounds amazing,” he grins. That smile… Bloodhound has to take a deep breath.

“Maybe I will show you one day,” they say, surprising themself with how easily they offer. “It is a beautiful place, and I think you would like it.” 

“Really?” he asks, surprised. “You’d, uh… you’d let me go with you?”

“Perhaps,” they murmur, and their heart starts to beat hard in their chest again. They notice he’s still carrying his wet shoes and socks, and they move to take them from him. “Here. Let me start a fire. Your shoes and socks will be dry in no time.” 

“Oh, thank you!” he replies cheerily, and the smile he gives them makes their heart skip a beat. They take the soggy items from him, cringing a bit at the questionable texture, and set them on the mantle for a moment. Overly aware of how closely he’s watching them, they kneel down, turn the gas knob, and light the fire quickly. In moments, a rosy glow emanates from the fireplace and Bloodhound pulls the screens over to eliminate any chance of Elliott’s things going up in flames. They reach up and place the shoes and socks on a small rack in front of the fire, and then they stand and retreat to their room for a moment.

Before long, they return to the living room wearing a fresh pair of socks and carrying a pair for Elliott. “Here,” they say, holding them out to him. “So your feet are not cold. It can be drafty in here when it rains.”

A pink tinge comes to his cheeks, and he accepts them hesitantly. “You’re way too nice,” he grumbles quietly as he sinks down onto the couch. He puts them on and then pushes his floppy wet hair out of his face. “Hey, can I borrow your hair dryer?” he asks, giving them a questioning glance.

“I… do not own one,” they reply, face burning. “Mine gave out a few weeks ago and I have not yet had time to buy another.”

To their surprise, he grins widely and looks away, suddenly very focused on the fire. “That’s all right,” he says, and his voice is curiously flustered. “I can just sit in front of the fireplace for a bit. You’re about to see the fluffiest hair the Outlands has to offer.” He laughs and rolls his eyes, raking his hands through his messy mop. 

The thought of Elliott with an untamed mess of curly hair makes them smile like a lovesick teenager, and they’re so, so glad they’re still wearing the mask. “So your hair is not perfect all the time?” they tease, sitting down on the couch next to him. They leave a respectable distance between them, but the distance is smaller than it would have been two or three weeks ago. “Ah, so he does have a flaw. Artur, can you believe it?”

They look to Artur’s perch where the bird has been sleeping peacefully throughout all of this. The bird shakes his beak and gives a soft caw before shuffling along his branch, completely ignoring Bloodhound. They shake their head at him. Unhelpful creature, they think affectionately.

Elliott scoffs and says, “Psh, no! I’m absolutely fal- flo- fu- perfect. My hair just has a life of its own sometimes.” He flips his hair to the opposite side and gives Bloodhound a ridiculously goofy expression. It takes everything in them to not burst out laughing, and they would have given him a deadpan expression if they could.

“Like your aim with an R-99, then,” they reply, keeping their voice as even as possible.

His mouth drops open, but he’s smiling. “Wh-What? Was that a joke? Did you actually just tell a joke?” A huge, incredulous laugh escapes his throat and he grabs his chest, and Bloodhound almost loses it. “That’s a little unfair though, considering how I absolutely lasered you today.”

It’s Bloodhound’s turn to laugh, and their face hurts from how much they’ve smiled lately. “You are correct, Elliott,” they admit, holding their hands up in a placating gesture. “I was very impressed with your skill this morning. Your precision and focus made you a formidable opponent, and I was honored to fight with you.”

Instead of the cocky, arrogant response they have come to expect from him, Elliott actually blushes. It is a welcome change; his cheeks turn a lovely shade of red and he looks away, biting his lip. “Thanks,” he says simply, and his voice is… bashful? 

Bloodhound does not quite know what to make of that.

------

His face burns fiercely and he can’t meet their eyes. He loves getting praise from his fans and from his friends, but getting praised by Bloodhound somehow means so much more. Maybe it’s because they’re so skilled, or maybe it’s because he respects them the most out of any other Legend, but such high compliments coming from them renders him a little speechless. 

“Hey, I know this is dumb since we’re paid to kill each other, but, um… Sorry about today,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Taking an entire clip of ammo to the head always gives you a nasty headache.”

Bloodhound huffs quietly, and Elliott takes that to be a soft laugh. “Do not worry, vinur minn. I am perfectly fine. It was simply the Allfather’s will for me to lose today, and I am not offended.”

Elliott lets out a small chuckle, relieved. “Well, that’s good to know. I was worried I might have broken your mask.”

They tap their mask firmly, and it makes a solid thunk sound. “You see? Perfectly fine,” they reply, and Elliott can hear the smile in their voice. “It is quite solid and substantial. Unlike much of your humor.”

Elliott stares at them open mouthed. “I’m wounded, Bloodhound, truly!” he rebutts, scandalized. He flops back against the couch dramatically, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. Bloodhound, making multiple jokes in one night? The world must be ending, he thinks, and he doesn’t even care that the jokes are coming at his expense.

Bloodhound laughs, and God, he’s missed that sound. The gentle lilt, the soft breathiness of their voice… Elliott blushes even as he giggles, and he treasures the noise they’re making. 

“I have been known to be humorous now and again,” they say, still chuckling. 

Elliott can only smile and shake his head in wonder as the two of them laugh, and soon, he’s wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Wow. Okay, out of all the things I expected tonight it definitely wasn’t that.”

“And what have you expected for this evening, Elliott?” Bloodhound cocks their head and leans back into the couch, folding their arms.

A thrill of joy runs its course throughout his body when they say his name, and he finds it strange. Bloodhound has surely said his name hundreds of times, but this feels different. Elliott is sure he’s overthinking it, but the way they had said it feels like they were humming a song. 

His entire body glows with warmth. “You promised me answers,” he says carefully as the giddiness starts to drain away. “You don’t have to go into specifics but… still, you promised answers.”

Bloodhound is silent for a moment, and their hands fidget lightly in their lap. Then they nod. “Yes. I do owe you answers, so please, ask whatever you would like.” Their voice is guarded and serious, and the shift in attitude is sobering. 

Elliott notices how discomfort begins to creep into their posture, and so he resolves to not push them any further than they are willing to be pushed. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the air hissing between his teeth as he leans back and begins to think. “Okay, um… Well, I was worried about your mask breaking because I don’t know how it works or how it helps. Can I ask why you need it?”

The question only makes Bloodhound’s body language tighten up more. They are silent for several long moments, seeming to ponder and consider his question. Was that too much right out of the gate? he thinks frantically, and he’s about to redact his question when they let out a big breath and begin to speak.

“When I was a child, I was… in an accident,” they say, but something about their admission feels shallow, as if they have more to tell. “No. I made a grave mistake.”

Elliott takes a deep breath and readjusts himself on the couch. He can tell this story will be a long one, and he intends to listen to every word.

“In my culture, young warriors must endure a rite of passage that shows our strength and our transition into adulthood,” Bloodhound explains. “My test was to slátra a prowler beast. I was afraid, but... I knew the Allfather would guide me.” They pause for a moment, and Elliott hangs on to their every word. “I followed its tracks to an abandoned IMC facility deep in the woods, but what I found there was far more hryllilegur. Horrible,” they add when Elliott raises an eyebrow. 

“A jötunn had made its home there. It is a terrifying beast, all horns and teeth and claws. It is as large as some of the buildings in Slum Lakes, if you can recall. I began to run away, but I found a prototype Charge Rifle and shot the beast. I thought it was dead. I collected its horn to present to my uncle, but he was... disappointed in me.” They sigh deeply as dread begins to pool in Elliott’s stomach. “I had rejected the sacred laws of the Hunt by using a gun in order to defeat this beast. Artur was steadfast, immovable in his convictions, and no matter how hard I tried to convince him of my victory, he would not validate it.

“I left in anger. I was a child, only fourteen years old, but if the other village elders knew what I had done, they would have exiled me. I was... so ashamed.” Bloodhound swallows, and it sounds like it takes a lot of effort. “I retreated to the forest to be alone, as I often did, and… the jötunn was there. It was not dead, as I had hoped. It sought revenge.

“I tried my best to fight it off. My uncle was alerted to my cries, and came to help, along with many other villagers. They fought, and…” Their voice tightens, and Elliott’s heart breaks. “Many died. Including my uncle.”

Their voice has become achingly vulnerable and soft the longer they’ve spoken, and Elliott wants nothing more than to reach out and take their hands again. He shifts closer to them on the couch, closing the gap ever so slightly. His eyes stay glued to their mask, and the lenses of their goggles reflect the flickering light of the fireplace. He’s always found the mask to be either intimidating or expressionless, but Bloodhound’s sadness speaks for them, and the mask seems to be considerably more morose than usual. 

“I sought the beast out,” they continue, and Elliott is surprised by how quietly angry and low their voice is. “It had returned to the abandoned facility. The halls had been equipped with coolant lines in case of an explosion or other emergency, and I broke them in order to immobilize the beast. But I breathed too much of it in, and… it dehydrated and froze my skin and lungs, leaving me scarred. Fortunately, I was able to find an oxygen mask just before I succumbed to the cold. Once the beast was frozen, I killed it with my uncle’s axe, fulfilling my test.”

Bloodhound is quiet for some time, and it takes Elliott a moment to realize they’re done talking. He knows he’s staring, and he knows he looks like he’s pitying them, and he fights to find an adequate response. “I’m so sorry, Bloodhound,” he murmurs, and he reaches out to them hesitantly. He takes their hands ever so softly, giving them every opportunity to pull away. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with such horrible things when you were younger. That sounds really tra- tor- traumatizing.” He’s struck by an incredible urge to pull them into his arms and hold them close, and a wave of embarrassment runs through his body as he presses that urge down.

Bloodhound’s hands begin to tremble in his, and he’s alerted to their discomfort immediately. Their breathing comes quicker and shallower even through the mask, and he holds onto them tighter. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, worried.

“I-” Their voice breaks and Elliott’s heart clenches in his chest. “I- I am sorry, Elliott, you do not want to see me like this-” Bloodhound makes an attempt to pull away and stand, but Elliott holds on tight, keeping them right where they are.

“Hey, hey,” he soothes. “It’s okay! It’s all right. I’m not bothered by you being emotional. It’s actually pretty refreshing, honestly. Makes you feel more normal, like the rest of us.”

They laugh weakly, and Elliott sighs in relief. “T-Thank you, vinur minn. I just- I am prone to anxiety attacks, and…” They suck in a huge lungful of air, but they’re still shaking. “That is why I left the other night. When you asked me about Artur, I was overcome and needed to leave as quickly as possible. Please do not take any offense- it was not your fault.”

Elliott’s chest fills with a strange sense of compassion and guilt, and he squeezes their hands comfortingly. “It’s okay, Bloodhound,” he reassures them. “I’m not mad. Just… worried.” The admission makes him feel exposed and overbearing all at once, and he really hopes he’s not making them uncomfortable.

An idea comes to his mind. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Breathe with me.” 

Bloodhound stiffens, and Elliott hopes to God he hasn’t somehow offended them. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, and after a moment, he hears Bloodhound inhale greatly as well. He finds himself rubbing his thumbs back and forth across their rough gloves, just like they had done to him a few nights ago. He lets the air calm him and settle his racing heart. He still doesn’t really know what he’s doing, or if he’s even doing this right, but to his delight, Bloodhound’s breathing begins to slow and even out. They gradually stop shaking, and he smiles. 

Elliott opens his eyes. “Better?” he asks, and he gives their hands a quick squeeze. 

They are quiet for a moment. “Nearly,” they murmur, and they pull their hands away. Elliott’s face falls, and rejection begins to rise in him, but they take off their gloves and reach for him once more. He eagerly closes the gap between his shaking fingers and theirs. The place where they make first contact with his skin- a small place near his thumb- tingles pleasantly, and the warmth of their hand settles in his. He inhales sharply, and beams as their fingers curl into his own. 

“Better.” They are so quiet and soft as they speak, and Elliott almost misses what they say. “Your kindness is a blessing to me, kæri vinur. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiles, trying to find their eyes beyond the lenses of their goggles. Despite his happiness, he finds himself wishing that he could search their face for meaning, for emotion, for clarity. He knows why they need and wear the mask. He knows why he will likely never see their face again. But, damn, does he desperately want to gaze upon them just one more time. He doesn’t know what kæri vinur means, but he can’t help but notice the similarities between it and what they usually call him. 

He doesn’t dare to hope it means anything.

...does he?

“Do you… do you want to talk about it, or…?” he trails, attempting to do what they had done a few nights ago. 

“No, Elliott,” they reply, but their voice is not unkind. Their grip on his hands tightens for a moment, then they loosen, and it sends a thrill down Elliott’s spine. “Your help was more than enough to calm me.”

He adjusts himself on the couch, and his knee brushes against theirs. The only light in the room comes from the quietly crackling fire, and it highlights Bloodhound’s features with a silhouette of warmth. His heart starts to pound in his chest once more, and every sense heightens. Elliott suddenly becomes aware of how intimate and vulnerable this little bubble of space is, and his shoulders tense in anticipation of something he knows will never come. He wants to pull them close. He wants to lace his fingers in theirs. He wants to…

“Can I trust you, Elliott?”

They sound so… exposed. So afraid. His breath catches in his throat for a moment. “O-Of course, Bloodhound. You can trust me with anything,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs across their knuckles reassuringly. He’s surprised by how rough their hands are, and it’s only then that he remembers the silvery spider web scars stretching across their skin. 

“Then… there is something I wish to share with you,” they reply, and their hands begin to tremble in his again. They let go of him, and to his utter shock, their hands go to their helmet, edging towards the many clasps that fasten it to their goggles and respirator.

“W-Wait, hold on,” he stutters, and he reaches for their hands again. “A-Are you- hey, you really don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, I mean- I mean, are you absolutely sure?” He stares at them in confusion and worry, and his stomach is an unintelligible knot of emotion. Elliott searches their mask and their body language, trying desperately to figure out what the hell they’re thinking.

“If I was not sure I would not be doing this,” they chide gently, and they remove their hands from his grip. “Please, just let me do this. Ég er svo- I am so tired of hiding.”

Elliott can’t argue with that. 

“Okay,” he says, still very unsure. His hands fall back into his lap.

------

The child inside them shakes and trembles horribly as they raise their hands to their head. Part of them screams and begs for them to stop, and it’s only in this moment that they realize that part is the terrified twenty-five year old that had had their mask shattered in front of all those people so long ago. That crowd had been so cruel, but Elliott could never share their vitriol, their hatred. Bloodhound has seen into the man’s heart more than they ever thought they would, and no trace of cruelty exists inside him.

How long has it been since they willingly showed someone else their face? Five years? Ten? Ajay seeing them had been a complete and total accident- one that they had learned not to mind. Boone had grown up with them, of course, so he does not count. But Elliott… At the beginning of this night, they never would have dreamed of doing what they’re about to do. But Elliott is so kind, so thoughtful and accepting that their heart yearns for him greatly, and they can ignore that fact no longer.

Their fingers fumble with the straps of their helmet, but something drives them forward. It drives them to be vulnerable- to be open and take a risk. Elliott has seen their face already, so why are they so nervous? He has seen the scars they bear- why are they trembling like the young one they used to be? They do not know, but they hope that the price of them being so vulnerable is a price he’s willing to pay. 

There is no turning back now, they think. 

With trembling hands, they remove the helmet, cap, goggles, and finally, the mask. 

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Eleven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(This was a tough part to write. TW: mention of past abuse)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

Masterpost

Friday night rolls around, Sarah comes over to get ready together at your place after work. You both opt for skinny jeans, something easy to slip into a skate. You find a couple of pairs of thin gloves. Sarah wears a large purple sweater with a chunky scarf. You wear a tight black sweater and a black beanie. Your hair is down and wavy.

“You look so cute!” Sarah says, finishing up her makeup.

“Thanks, so do you.” You smile at her.

“So we’re skating then going to dinner?”

“Yup, I think that’s the plan. Ready for me to order the uber?”

“Yup!”

You meet the boys at the ice rink. Mid-October was still warm enough outside that you didn’t need a jacket, but cold enough to start ice skating at night. You used to come to this rink with your friends when you were in college. You immediately spot the boys. Harry has a long sleeve green shirt on, and his classic black jeans. Only these ones don’t have rips in them yet, must be his new ones. He has a black beanie on as well. Niall is wearing a p-coat and some gloves. You and Sarah walk over to them, both of you hugging your men. You get on your tip toes to give Harry a kiss.

“You look so cute.” He says poking your hat. You swat an arm at him.

“Did you guys get your skates yet?” You ask.

“Nope, we were waitin’ for you ladies.” Niall says.

The four of you go over to the skate counter, giving the woman your sizes. She tells you that you all can leave your shoes with her when you’re done changing. You all find a bench to sit down at.

“I always struggle lacing these up.” You say, struggling to pull the laces tighter. Harry chuckles and kneels in front of you. He laces up your skates for you, and you blush. “Thank you.” He winks at you, and goes to bring your shoes up to the woman. Niall also helps Sarah lace up her skates, and takes her hand to help her up. You’ve never seen Niall on a real date, this will be fun.

The four of you get on the ice. You’re surprised Harry is actually a pretty decent skater, considering he hates dancing so much. He takes your hand, and you take a lap around the rink to get your bearings. Niall and Sarah stay back a bit and take it slow on the ice. Sarah isn’t the most coordinated, but she was laughing, and that’s all that mattered. Harry twirls you around a couple of times, and you can’t but laugh as well.

“I’m surprised by you.”

“Why?”

“You’re so good at skating, Harry.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

“I used to come here all the time when I was in school.” He takes your hand as you both continue to glide effortlessly on the ice. You look over and see Sarah on her butt. She’s laughing so hard she’s crying, and Niall is trying to help her up, but he’s also laughing. “I’m so glad they’re having fun.”

“Me too. They’re good for each other, yeah?”

“Oh for sure. Sarah came over to get ready with me beforehand, and she went on and on about how great he is, as if I didn’t already know. It seems like she and I snagged the two best guys in the city.” You skate near the barrier, and lean against it. You pull him close to you.

“And it would appear I scooped up the most amazing girl there is.” He leans in and kisses you. You stand there for a few moments, enjoying small kisses, as your cold noses brush past each other.

Niall finally helps Sarah up, and drops her again. His eyes are wide, looking at someone skating on the other side of the rink.

“Niall, everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just, that guy over there, he looks really familiar. Oh no.” He looks at the man then back at you. But you’re preoccupied with Harry, so you don’t notice anything. The man is skating with a woman, they appear to be having a good time. “Shit, Sarah, we gotta make sure (y/n) doesn’t see that guy.”

“What? Why?”

“That’s Jake.” Niall points in his direction.

“Fuck, you’re right it is.” She looks over at you.

Her heart could break for you as you detach from Harry, and continue skating. You notice them looking at you, and skate over to them.

“Are you guys alright, you’re giving me a weird look.” Harry is right next to you, still holding your hand.

“Um, yeah, we were just wondering when we should go eat.”

“We like just started skating.” Harry says, not picking up on Niall’s signal.

“No, we know, we were just discussing when we should leave. That’s all.” Niall says. Sarah has her eyes glue on Jake. She has lost all the color in her face.

“Sarah, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

Before she can answer, you feel a woman bump into you. You turn to see her just about to lose her balance before a man catches her. She apologizes to you, but before you can say anything, you lock eyes with the blue-eyed man, and your heart nearly stops.

He gives you a funny look, like he knows who you are, but he can’t place it. Everything happens so fast, you don’t remember rushing through everyone, and yanking your skates off. You can barely breathe, and run in your socks to the bathroom. You throw up immediately, and rip your beanie off. Sweat runs down your face, you stay there until nothing comes up until you’re dry heaving.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to set her off, I only nudged her.” The woman says. Sarah has gone off to look for you. Harry gives Niall a confused look.

“S’not about you, he set her off.” Harry’s eyes grow wide when he puts two and two together.

“Sorry, do I know you?” Jake says.

“No, but I know you. Miss, I don’t know you, but I would strongly recommend getting away from this man. He’s not a good person.”

“Dude, I don’t know who you are, but I think my fiancé would know me pretty well.”

“Honey, what are they talking about?”

“I have no idea.”

“You don’t remember that girl that just ran off at the sight of you?” Harry grabs Jake by the collar. “You ruined her life about a year ago, you don’t remember?”

“Harry, c’mon, this sick fuck isn’t worth it. Hope you two enjoy the conversation you’re bound to have this evening.”

Harry lets go of Jake, and nearly throws him to the ground with the force he gives off. Him and Niall rush to find you. Sarah grabbed your shoes from the woman, and the boys get their shoes as well.

“I can’t find her anywhere, the woman said she practically threw her skates at her. Do you think she went to the bathroom?”

“In her socks?” Niall asks.

“She obviously was in a rush, let’s go check.” Harry says, pushing through the crowd of people.

You’re shivering, sitting on the bathroom floor, hoping you don’t dry heave again. Your face is plastered in tears and sweat. You hear your name being called, but you can’t find your voice to speak up.

“Sir, you can’t go in there!”

“Fuck off!” You hear Harry’s voice, but you can’t call to him. He walks right by you at first, then back tracks. He drops to his knees when he realizes it’s you. “Oh my god, (y/n), I’m so sorry.”

He pulls you close to his chest, and you cry hard into him. Sarah and Niall come rushing in, and go to their knees too. Niall rubs your back while Harry hold you.

“Mate, can you go get the car started, she’s freezing we gotta get her outta here. Sarah can I have her shoes please?” They both nod at Harry. Once he gets your shoes on, he scoops you up, and carries you out.

Neither of you care how it looks. You keep your face hidden in his chest while he carries you out to Niall’s car. Harry sits in the back with you, keeping you close to him.

“Just bring us to my place, lad, I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

“We’re going in with you, Harry.” Sarah says. “She’s my friend too. God, I could punch that guy in the face.”

“Harry almost did.” Niall says. You stay quiet, trying desperately to stop shaking and still your breathing.

Harry carries you up to his apartment, with Niall and Sarah right behind. He puts you down on the couch, and yanks your shoes and wet socks off. He runs over to his dresser and pulls out a pair of thick socks, and puts them on your feet. Sarah sits next to you, Niall kneels in front of you, and Harry sits on your other side.

“Talk to us (y/n).” Niall says. “What can we do?” You take your phone out, and hand it to Niall. “Right.” He takes it and goes into Harry’s bathroom. A few minutes later, he comes back and hands you the phone. “You can see her tomorrow morning.”

“See who?” Harry asks.

“Her therapist.” Harry looks at you, and wipes his eyes. He’s been fighting back tears, but he can’t anymore.

“I’m gonna make you a cup of tea.” He gets up, and Niall follows. “Did you know he lives in the area?”

“Honestly, no. She never mentioned running into him, so I figured he wasn’t from around here. This absolutely fucking sucks.”

“I’m glad you were here. I wouldn’t have known to call her therapist.” He plugs in his electric kettle, and waits for the water to boil. He wipes his eyes again.

“Harry, (y/n) and I have been through a lot together. It’s okay that you don’t know everything about her. You’re here for her, and that’s all that matters. I think she should stay with you tonight, maybe you could bring her to her appointment in the morning.”

“Of course. What time?”

“Eight-thirty.”

“I’m on it.” He grabs a tea bag, and rests it in a mug, adding the hot water. The boys walks back over to you.

“I think she could use a shower or something.” Sarah says looking up at them.

“(y/n), we’re going to leave you with Harry so you can relax and get some sleep. If you need anything, I’m a phone call away.” Sarah nods to Niall, and she gets up.

“Take good care of our girl.” She says before she leaves. Harry sets the tea down on the coffee table.

“Right, let me draw you a bath.” You grab his wrist.

“I’ll shower.” You get up, walk past him to the bathroom, and close the door behind you.

You take the elastic around your wrist, and put your hair up in a bun on top of your head. Tears continue to stream down your cheeks as you turn the water on. You stand in the hot water for ten minutes before getting out. You could kill Jake. You made so much progress, and just like that you’re brought back to that dark hole in your mind. You wrap a towel around yourself. When you open the door you see a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt. You sigh and put both on. Harry is pacing across the living area when you walk into his view.

“All set?” You nod in his direction. “Don’t feel like you need to talk. Your appointment is at eight-thirty tomorrow morning. I’m going to take you. We can leave as early as you want. I don’t know if you want to go to your place first. Whatever you want to do is fine.” You walk over to him. You can’t bring yourself to smile, but you wrap your arms around him. He’s afraid to touch you at first, but he lightly hugs you.

“Can we go to bed?” You say through a cracked voice.

“Yes, of course.” You slowly walk over to his bed, and climb in. “Do you want me to hold you, or not touch you. Either is fine.”

“Please, hold me Harry.”

You turn from him, and he wraps himself around you, pulling you slightly to his chest.

The next morning you hear an alarm go off, it’s seven. Harry rustles out of bed, and you hear his coffee pot begin to brew. You don’t want to move.

“Sweetheart, let’s go brush our teeth, yeah?” You groan, and he stifles a laugh. He knows it’s not funny, but you’re being cute, and he can’t help it. You swing your legs over the side of the bed. You feel sweaty, of course you do. You wore full sweats to bed, and had Harry wrapped around you all night. “Did you want to go home to change, or would like another pair of sweats?”

“Your clothes.” You say as you hop out of bed. You make your way to his bathroom. You brush your teeth together. He goes into his dresser to grab you a fresh pair of sweats, and hands them to you so you can change in the bathroom.

When you come out you see a coffee cup for you on his little island, and coconut milk creamer. You smile for the first time since you were on the ice with him. You pour the creamer into the mug and take a small sip.

“Thank you.” You say to him. He smiles at you warmly. “This tastes much better.” He looks down at his watch.

“We better go, love.” You nod, and take one more big sip of coffee.

You’re silent in the car. You aren’t sure what to say. Your boyfriend was driving you to an emergency therapy session. He walks you upstairs in the building, and helps you check in. Your name is called, and he sits there, waiting for you patiently.

“Hi, (y/n), please have a seat.” Dr. Mara says to you with a slight smile. You sit down on her couch. “You look comfy.”

“Thanks, these are my, uh, boyfriend’s clothes.”

“Boyfriend, hm? Well that’s nice. Was he the young man with you in the lobby?”

“Yes.”

“And Niall is still just your friend.”

“Yes, he’s dating Sarah now.”

“How nice for them. I was worried about you when he called. Would you like to tell me what happened?”

“The four of us were on a double date. Me, Harry, Sarah, and Niall. We went ice skating. The season just started, I was so excited to go.”

“You do love double dates.”

“I really do. Harry and I were off, we were kissing, and I noticed Niall and Sarah giving me a funny look. So we skated over to them. Then this woman bumped into me, no big deal, it was starting to get crowded. She apologized, and I was about to say it was fine and then I locked eyes with him.”

“Jake was there?”

“Yes!” You choke back tears, taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table. “I ran out, and threw up in the bathroom. I ran in my sock because I yanked my skates off. Harry found me in the bathroom. I stayed really quiet. The flashbacks came back, it was awful. Harry carried me out of the bathroom, and they brought me back to his place.”

“And the flashbacks, have you had them this morning?”

“No…but I feel shaken up still, you know? I don’t want this to ruin my progress, I’m afraid of regressing.”

“Don’t let a run in take control. You have worked so hard to move on. How long have you and Harry been seeing each other?”

“A little over a month.” You smile. “Niall set us up. He’s amazing, he’s been so patient and understanding.”

“Does he know everything?”

“Yes, I told him pretty early on.”

“And, have you two been intimate?”

“A little bit. I’ve been nervous. Not so much of him using me, I know he wouldn’t do that, but I’m afraid of having a flashback. So we’ve only done oral things, and I haven’t let him use his fingers or anything like that.”

“I see. Not that you need to move fast with him, but do you think if he’s gentle with you, do you think you’ll have the flashbacks?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes when we’re doing stuff, I start to overthink, and then I freak out. I’m comfortable with where we’re at right now. There are other things I’d like to do with him, but I honestly don’t need anything more right now. He’s spoken up about what he needs from me too, and I think he’s content.”

“That’s good. He sounds like a kind man.”

“He is, I still can’t believe how kind. Like, he gave up his Saturday to bring me here and basically take care of me Dr. Mara. I don’t want this ordeal to set us back.”

“Well, you’ve been through something pretty shocking, so it’s okay to keep taking it slow.”

“What if I run into him again? Now that I know he’s around, it could happen again at any moment.”

“Try to not let him control the narrative. Tell yourself that he can’t hurt you ever again. You are safe. You don’t have control of where he is, but you have control of where you are. Don’t let this stop you from ice skating, don’t let this stop you from going to that side of town. You are a strong young woman.”

“Thank you….I panicked. How do I not panic?”

“Well, running was actually a good first step. We all have flight or fight, sometimes running can help ease the anxiety. Are you still working out?”

“Yes, it helps a lot. I go five times a week, and I love it. I didn’t think I would, but it works for me. I’ve found myself, lately, though not liking being alone. But at the same time, I don’t want to be codependent.”

“On Harry?”

“Yeah. He takes really good care of me, but I don’t want to depend on him. He was gone for a whole week, and I found myself not liking sleeping alone. Something I’ve been so fine with and used to.”

“I think that’s normal when you’re starting a new relationship. Don’t think of it as codependent. Think of it as a new partnership. You each give and you each will take. You may find that there will be times you’ll have to take care of him, and be there for him. It’s okay to lean on people. You clearly have a strong connection with him, that’s okay.”

“While he was gone he gave me a key to his place, so I could water his plants. He only has two plants, and he didn’t take very good care of them as it was. I gave the key back when he got home, and I’ve been thinking lately that maybe it was his way of wanting me to just have a key to his place. But it feels so soon doesn’t it?”

“Whose timeline are you on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think it feels soon? Because other people might say it is? How did you feel while in the possession of the key?”

“I felt trusted. Like he had nothing to hide from me. I have nothing to hide from him. I want him to have a key to my place too. I guess, yeah, I’m afraid of judgement. He asked me to be his girlfriend three weeks in, and Kate flipped. But Kate also has a lot going on, which I can’t even get into right now.”

“You know, I have met people who have moved in together three months into a relationship, and married just three months after that. I’ve also met people who have been dating for three years and still haven’t moved in together. I think whatever progression feels right and natural for you, is the one that matters most. It’s not anyone else’s life, it’s yours. If it feels right for both of you, I think an exchange of keys is perfectly fine.”

After twenty more minutes of talking you feel much better. Your run in does not need to be a setback. You agree to see Dr. Mara again next week to check in. You wondered why you stopped seeing her, she really was good at her job. She never judged you. You see Harry in the waiting room, twiddling his thumbs, and his leg bouncing. You smile at him when he sees you. He stands up and smile back at him.

“Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course, how was it?”

“Good, really good.” You hook an arm around his waist and walk out of the office. “I’m so sorry if I scared you last night.” You say getting into his car.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He places his hand on yours and gives it a squeeze.

“I’m coming back here again next week, just for a check in.”

“That’s good.”

“Harry, I think I’d like to go home for a little while and just collect myself, but if you’re free tonight, I’d love to go to dinner.”

“If that’s what you’d like to do, then that works for me.” He smiles at you.

You take a deep breath when you get into your apartment. You grab a pillow from your couch and scream into it.

“Okay, now I feel better.” You say to yourself.