#Oliver havin a rough time

[sweetsuo]

Hotel Service. 

Oliver Aiku

Cw. afab!reader. Fingering. Oral. public sex. Drinking. Terms like ‘baby girl’. Edging.  Genre. [ fic. Smut. basically just smut with vague plot. I am not sorry.] Wc. 2.5k

Rough hands picked at the sides of his phone case.  Amidst the many nameless chickadees Oliver had ghosted was a single unanswered text. He sighed heavy and long. Arm came across his forehead as he sprawled across the hotel couch. Despite his disappointment, he laughed, "Damn, this is the shit I do?" The room answered with silence. Oliver was a known playboy. He frequented hostess bars, brought new girls to his favorite karaoke places, and never saved a number. He'd never thought about the repercussions on the girls' end. He never had to. It's not like he put faces to the numbers and never tapped a girl more than once.

But now everything reminded him of you. These walls haunted him with the echoing sound of your voice, drawn out and honied. His hand along the sofa's arm felt hallow without the soft of your thigh rolling between his fingers. The bottle of spirits he sipped from was unbearable without the taste of you to chase it with. Karma truly was fucking him harder than he wished to fuck you again, that was for damn sure.

He leaned forward on the shitty, you-less couch creaking under the weight. Three. Over the last few days, he saw you pick up three other guys at the club. If he weren't so fixated on you, he'd probably give you credit for the skill. He was so hooked on you that he didn't dare pick up another for fear they wouldn't feel as good as you did. What pissed him off more was that you were completely fine. Other chicks were so cock-drunk they'd hit him up by the hour. But you? Nothing. His pride was sniped three times over. As he stared at your contact, Oliver wondered if some pussy were really worth all this frustration.

Fuck it. C’est la vie. He called.

Brrrrrrrrr.

The dial tone taunted him, but he maintained his cool.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Uncomfortable anticipation settled in his stomach. A taste of his own medicine really was as bitter right about now.

Brrrrrrrr-

His heart skipped a beat.

"Hello?"

To hear your voice is like a shot of a top-class heroine. Immediately, everything in him unwound, 

"What's up, Lil chick?" Oliver was casual, voice rolling low against the receiver. He could hear music from the other end, loud and static-filled.

"Oh~ not much. At the cluuuuub –

Not much? I'm hurt."

Oliver's grip tightened around his phone, the smile of relief steeling into something sharp. Whatever this feeling was it was new and he was not a fan of it.

"Aw, don't be like that~" Your words were muffled by the hand covering your receiver, but he could still hear it, "We're just havin' fun, nothin' too deep."

The words burned. For a long time, the striker had been happy to sit back in comfort and defend his peace. He didn't want to be tied down. Hell, he even was the one to say this was no strings attached. Those strings apparently only roped around him now, leaving you free to do whomever you please.

"You wanna have some fun with me, baby girl?" He purred. It was a one-sided challenge to the cuck trying to make a move.

"I don't usually do seconds," You say, but from the languid drawl in your voice, he knew you were contemplating, "What if you're boring?"

"Anything but. Which club?" Oliver stood, dressing himself with the phone still between his cheek and shoulder, "I'll swing by and grab ya now."

-

Whatever the setlist was, the crowd was into it. You watched the dancing bodies, bumping and grinding under the flickering red lights. The rhythm of the beat seeped into your bones, ratting you from the inside out and numbing your mind from any serious thinking. It’s just what you needed after hard day’s work. In the past hour, you made coy eye contact with two separate pretty boys. You’d catch their eye and when they noticed, you’d look away with a brush of your hair and a sip of your drink. Your time fishing, flashing bait in front of two hungry piranha was well spent. Not just one, but both of your pretty little fish came around to sit by you. They’d think it was all their idea to approach. Men puffing their chests for your attention was always a show worth while, especially when it ended with a quick fuck. It reminded you how silly they could be.

Frankly, ever since you met the scraggly soccer player, no other man could hold up to your expectations. You had too much pride to hit up a one night stand for some dick, though, so you went about your business as per usual. Just this time, you were filling the void he’d left behind. When he called, your heart leapt into your throat. When he said he’d come get you? You shook with anticipation.

That’s how you got to where you were now – entertaining your backup pieces as they cut jabs at one another to get the prize.  

“You sure you didn’t get stood up, sweety? What douchebag would pass up on a fine ass like your?”

“I dunno, let’s wait a little longer and find out,” You said with a bite. To swallow down your impatience, you took a sip from your martini glass.

“I’m getting a little antsy over her, hon, you coming home with me or no?” The one to your right asked, sliding a hand along your knee.

You barely move in response, only glance down to the hand in bored disinterest from the corner of your eyes. He doesn’t notice. He’s way too occupied stared at your exposed thigh. You’ll give the guy a proper shot if Oliver doesn’t -

When hands grasped your bare shoulders, you yelped and looked above you. From behind the couch was that pretty little soccer player who so desperately craved your affection. “Couldn’t agree more. Baby girl, you weren’t planning on leaving with someone like that were you?” His voice teased, duochrome hues openly judging and appraising the meat you’d chosen for dinner. Garbage. All garbage to him, of course. “Let’s head back to my place, I’ll treat you right.” His tongue slid across the soft flesh of his lips, teeth bared as a threat to the one with wandering hands. The hand flinched, but didn’t move until Oliver’s hard glare met his directly.­  

“I’ve been waiting all night!” You were thrilled at the ravenous jealousy eating the playboy up. His hands squeezed your shoulders. Your hand came up to rest along his neck in response. You couldn’t help but notice the rush of his heartbeat through his vein. What a starved, hungry snake he was, writhing at the heat of your hand, “Lead the way, Mr. Patience.”

-

The hotel door lurched with your weight thrown against it. Your mouth opens in an exhale, only to be hungrily consumed by the striker pinning you. Oliver's body is broad, sturdy, and near suffocating in its press. His tongue explored yours, scraping against the roof of your mouth, running across your tongue and teeth in fervor.

Oliver's hands frantically searched each pocket for his key card. His hips ground into yours, drawing out a sweet and needy whine from you. His cock twitched against the zipper of his pants at the very sound. He needed to hear more of it. He needed more of you. Momentarily giving up on his search, his hands gripped your body. The supple skin seeping between his fingers, the feel of your body heat rising as his hands slid lower. He drank it all in like sweet ambrosia.

Kisses and teeth trailed from your lips to your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin just under the curve. Your chest rises and falls with heavy breathing, walls cinching against nothing with each heavy grind against you. Anxiety meddled with arousal as you searched the halls for other guests, staff, and cameras. Words tumble clumsily from your lips, "F-find your card, won't ya?"

"Oh?" He purrs against your neck, "Scared someone seeing you?" You tremble at the burn of his breath against you, "Weren't you just vying for some pathetic sap's attention earlier? Now some staff seeing you against a door is too much?" Oliver halts, mouth close by your ear, "You wanted fun, so let's make it a game, alright, baby girl?"

You swallow hard, curiosity getting the best of you, "Rules?"

"You have to hold everything in and I will draw it out," He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, "I win if you get the attention you were looking for."

"Easy peasey," You tease, pressing your lips together with a triumphant smirk. Maybe it was the haze hovering over your mind that made you so pliable to his little game. Or maybe the promise to work hard for your moans was it.

"Sure about that?" His hips bucked, and his abs tensed. Trained self-control is the only reign on the base urge to just take you on the door.

"Confident."

"Atta girl." With those two words, Oliver pressed the outside of his right foot against the inside of your left, spreading your legs to the width of the doorframe. The glint in his eyes was lit by lust. His hand, which had been massaging the curve of your thigh, slipped between them. You arch into his touch automatically, pathetically, preciously.

Calloused fingers ran along the length of your panty-covered slit. He pressed into you harder, breathing unsteadily, yet he stifled a single chuckle. Who knew you'd be this wet from a silly little game? Fingers stroked the sodden, silken fabric. He toyed with you. Each stroke towards your clit was matched with each breath in and each stroke over your drooling hole with each breath out. He wanted you to think of his touch every time you breathed.

As the pad of his middle finger ran up, he whispered close, "Hold your breath, baby." Free hand took your chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting your gaze to meet his. Painfully slow and controlled, he grazed over the swollen bundle of nerves. The fabric between you and him added to the friction. The muscles of your obliques tense. Your eyes squint as you hold back the air and the sound you wish to let run free.

Once he went over the hill, he began to roll back, pressing into the nerves in an excruciatingly slow circle before passing over, "Now out." As you let out a steady stream of air, it all hitches as he begins to circle at your entrance. The thong was your only barrier, and fuck did you want it gone.

Oliver relished in the way the fabric slipped with his touch, "You're doing so good. Haven't made a peep." His gaze turns to monitor the hall, deeming it clear, "Let's see if I can't change that."

Your heart throbbed hopelessly, its beat reverberating at his touch. Smoothly, he pushed the fabric aside, fingers now spreading you apart to dribble down his hand. He shuddered, desperate to be in you yet staving off his own desire for yours. He had to make an impression you couldn't forget.

He teased, palm secure against your clit so you felt every motion he made. Fingertips dipped into you, barely giving you enough to hold onto. Your hands, which once braced you against the door, now wrapped around his shoulders, gripping at the leather of his jacket. You couldn't make a noise. You wanted to, though. You wanted to release the hot burn in your chest. You wanted to cry out for him to go in. You wouldn't make a noise. You sway your hips in a desperate attempt for more.

"Awe, greedy little thing," He mutters, kissing your pretty pouting lip, "Keep watch, now." The cryptic words had you furrowing your brow. That was until he dropped to one knee. Panicked, you open your mouth to protest and then quickly shut it. So long as you were quiet, no one would know. It was more than just a competition. He slid down the thong and you stepped out, not even noticing him pocket them. Instead, eyes searched for security cameras, finding only one. Surely, the security guard would call the manager. Or maybe...

He lifted your leg with a firm grasp underneath your knee. The lift raises your skirt, revealing you to the empty hall and the jealous beast kneeling before you. The hand not under your knee now prodded at your entrance, a single digit asking for entry. You oblige, leg left standing beginning to shake. The single-digit pumps slowly at first, only massaging the first inch or so before fully retracting and diving in again. His tongue laps you up, cleaning every inch of your thighs and vulva until he's satisfied. You desperately grasp onto his hair, curling over in soundless pleasure. The position kept you from fucking his hand. It had to have been intentional. There was no fucking way it wasn't. He kept you where he wanted you.

The flat of his tongue now lapped between your folds as a second finger entered, plunging deeper in. He savors your taste, entranced in the twitch of your thighs beside him. His hips rut at the air thoughtlessly, his only release of tension from the friction of denim against his throbbing cock. Oliver ruts to the pace of his fingers, lost in the moment and groaning into your pussy. Fingers pawed deliberately slow at the soft cushion of your walls. It was just the spot to make you bite down hard to keep it all in. You can feel yourself coming undone, fingers gripping into the shaggy black mess between your thighs. His fingers lit you from the inside out, each stroke a matchstick attempting to light.

Through the thick, sticky haze of euphoria clinging to your mind, you register the tapping of footsteps. Pussy cinches against his working fingers. Anticipation and fear all well up inside. Your hand tapped on his shoulder. He heard it. He didn't move. Stubbornly, the python below nipped at your bud to make you break. Fingers worked you with hungered haste, even filling you up with a third. You trembled, unsupported leg ready to give out as you pant helplessly. You were practically leaning on his back, fists now filled with his jacket.

In a poor attempt to ride his fingers to finish, you buck reflexively each time he hits the spot. His tongue made messy shapes on your clit and his muffled, silent groans vibrated along it. Everything coalesced, bringing you right to the edge. You wanted to tell him your leg was going to give, but you couldn't. What went from a challenge of will now became open-mouthed, breathless ecstasy as he kept you right on the precipice of release. Drool trickled from your lips and onto your clenched fingers. The footsteps grew ever closer and so did you. Your head now tilted back, leaning on the rattling door. You staying silent didn't mean shit when the door told all your secrets. It all could be forgiven when you looked down at the man below, eyes glazed yet hard as he glanced up at you in awe. He looked at you in the way you only hoped someone could, "F-fuck, I'm gonna-"

Oliver released you from his hold, fingers drew out, slippery and wet. He licked his lips clean and rose fast, pulling your skirt back down as he did. A frustrated tear ran down your cheek, dragging mascara with it. Your legs could barely hold you up and you were almost certain you were making a mess of the carpet below. Baffled, you grab his hand to put it back and he just laces his fingers in yours, "O-Oliver –"

"Heard there was a noise complaint about a door?" A man in his 50's, obviously fed up with his middle-management job, approached, "Do we have a problem?"

"Sorry," Oliver chuckled, ruffling his hair as if he hadn't just stained his boxers with pre, "We got locked out. Chickadee here was just about the break the door down. Think I dropped my keycard."

"Oh," the manager replied flatly, "This it? Saw it in the hall." Between his fingers was the exact keycard Oliver had been searching for at the beginning of this.

"Perfect. Thank you."

"Get some rest," The Manager grumbled, now walking off hissing 'fucking youths.'

"You want to get some rest?" The brunette joked, grinning at your obvious flustered frustration. He cups your cheek, wiping at the dribbling mascara, "Or do you want me to really make that pretty makeup of yours run?"

[fictionkinfessions]

I miss my thief. Yeah, you were a pain in the ass, but you were *my* pain in the ass. You frustrated the hell out of me, but at the end of the day, you and Cassie were my best friends. I miss ya, Zeke. I never got to tell you this in canon, but I love you. Sorry I ever doubted you. I hope you know you're my friend, no matter what ya told yourself in DARPA.

I miss my math girl. I'm sorry I ever said I didn't trust you, Cassandra. I don't know what to do without ya. You got me through some really dark times. I'll never forget how you opened up to me after Oklahoma. We talked about our parents. I told you things I've never told anyone else. You and Ezekiel were my cornerstones. I love you.

I miss my Guardian. I was never as close to you as you were with Ezekiel, but you were a mentor to me. You taught me how to fight, sure, but more than that, you taught me how to be part of a team. You taught me how to be part of a family. I'd never really had that before. Thank you, Colonel.

I miss... I'm not sure what I should call you. I miss you, Flynn. We didn't always get along, sure. More often than not, we fought like hell. I won't lie, you were always a little too eager to use magic for my liking. (I still can't believe that "we're the Librarians" is a SPELL, goddammit.) More than anythin', though, I look up to ya. I always have, and I think I always will.

I miss my knight. Jenkins, you always looked out for us. You were there for me on those long nights when I'd come back at one in the morning after a bar fight, drunk off my ass and whinin' like a bitch. I'll never know how you put up with me, but I'd wake up to a cup of tea on my bedside table and a blanket on my shoulders and I'd know that no matter how much you complained about us, you cared. I care about you, too.

I miss my Library. I miss the things I used to be able to do. I miss everythin' I used to know. I miss havin' a place to come home to when things were rough. I miss havin' a family. Hell, I miss riskin' my life every week, and I even miss magic. I miss mystery, misery, loneliness, adventure, and savin' the world twice before Friday.

I miss y'all. Come back alive, Librarians.

Jacob Stone (AKA Dr. Oliver Thompson, AKA Griffin Griffould, AKA James McKelvie, AKA Cowboy, AKA Jake)

(Please tag as 📚⚔️ if that isn't taken.)

I dont check if custom tags are free nor do I keep a record of them you are able to check for yourself if they're free or in use and go from there thank you

[endless-whump]

Simon/Oliver: Anchored

CW: none? This is..kinda fluff? (idk what counts as fluff lol)  Vague descriptions of scars ig?

Masterlist

---

“Come on- there, just lean on me.  Go slow if you need to.” 

Oliver held onto Simon's arm with a desperately tight grip to stay upright, teeth clenched as he tried putting weight on his leg.  It felt odd, without the cast now.  His skin felt sensitive, every touch feeling strange after going so long without it.  Taking a shower for the first time without it had startled him, the water running over his leg feeling...oddly nice.  He’d spent almost an hour idly tracing lines with his finger on his shin, skin tingly with the sensation.

His leg was sensitive when putting weight on it now, but it was a different kind.  This hurt.   It felt like pins were being shoved into the bottom of his foot, pain shooting all the way up his calf as he tried to set it to the floor.  His knuckles were almost white as he gripped Simons forearm for support, leaning against him as he tried to balance.

“There you go, you’re doing great.  A little more, see if you can stand on it.”

Oliver bit back a cry of pain as he obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut.  His leg was agony, and he wanted nothing more than to leave it alone, to stop, to try again another day.  He knew he had to do this, though.  He’d seen the look Sandy gave him when he tried to reason with her, tried to put it off to another time.  She wasn’t buying it, telling him that he needed to do this eventually if he wanted to get back on his feet soon.  There simply wasn’t any way to get around this.

So he obeyed, trying to put his weight on the limb even as it burned in pain, breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.  A whimper escaped the back of his throat as Simon pulled away from him slightly, trying to get him to stand on his own.  He didn’t want to.

 His leg shook as he stood warily on it, fire lacing all the way up as he let his evened weight rest on it, arm still gripping onto Simon’s but not leaning on him anymore.  He shuddered with the effort it took, tears filling his eyes.

“Simon, Simon I can’t-”  He was ready to bail out, he needed to stop.  

“You can, Ollie.”  Simon reassured firmly.  “You’ve got this, just a little longer.”

The only sound that filled the room was Oliver’s small gasps for air, the struggle to keep panic from taking over getting harder and harder as his resolve thinned.  He fought the urge to lift his leg up, or to just let himself collapse if it would just make the pain stop.  He felt dizzy, swallowing thickly as he swayed slightly.

“Call it.”  He heard Sandy murmur from behind them.  “He’s done well enough for now, and he looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Strong arms wrapped around him, letting Oliver lean his weight against them.  He let out a sob of relief as the pressure was relieved, knee bent slightly to hold his foot off the ground.  He didn’t dare open his eyes, fearing he’d find his vision swimming how his head was.

“You did really, really good, Ollie.”  A warm hand settled on the back of his back as he was lifted, the other settling them on the couch they had been right next to.  “I mean it.  You hit your limit and got past it.”

Oliver shuddered and turned to bury his face against Simon’s chest, focusing on the reassuring touch.  His leg was propped up, a hand running up and down his leg gently.

“I can’t do it,”  Oliver sobbed miserably.  “I, I can’t, it hurts, I can’t do it.”

Simon pushed Oliver away slightly to look at him, hands on either side of his face.

“Oliver.”  He said firmly, thumb running over his cheekbone.  “You can.  You’re doing really well, and you’re just going to keep getting better.  I believe in you.”  Simon pressed a small kiss to his forehead, hands coming up the back of his head to ruffle his hair.  “We’ll be right beside you the whole way.”

Oliver nodded, falling forward into the arms that wrapped tightly around him.  He felt exhausted, like the session had taken every bit of energy he had left that day.  He let go of everything, letting himself relax and go pliant as he was maneuvered to lay down, tucked securely against Simon’s chest.  A heavy blanket was pulled over them, tucked around Oliver securely as he was sandwiched between Simon and the couch, feeling surrounded and perfectly safe.

He felt anchored, allowed to let his mind unfocus, go somewhere it didn’t hurt so much, go somewhere he didn’t have to think.  It wasn’t a bad unfocused, it was just..the ability to let his guard down.  

He could let himself drift, focusing only on the feeling of fingers tracing the scars on the back of his neck, running up his scalp to scratch softly.  It was his favorite thing that Simon did, tracing those scars.  It made them burn a little less, made them feel a normal part of him that was loved and kept safe, rather than something shoved upon him to make his body feel like something that didn’t belong to him anymore.

His scars were his.  That's what Simon reassured him every time he traced them absentmindedly, and instinct to comfort in a way he knew worked.

“Simon?”  He murmured, hugging him tightly and nuzzling close.  He could feel the vibrations of Simon’s voice in his chest when he hummed in acknowledgement, fingers running up his scalp.  Oliver sighed at the feeling, feeling himself sink further into tiredness.  

“Love you,”  He hummed tiredly, not missing the way Simon faltered for a moment before continuing the comforting motion.  There was a beat of silence before he felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head, the arms around him squeezing tightly.  It never felt constricting to Oliver, though.

“Love you too, Ollie.”

There was a time Oliver might have doubted that statement, doubted the ability to be truly loved by someone, or to deserve it.  He’d doubted he’d ever be able to be worthy of being loved instead of used and hurt, but Simon said he loved him, and that he deserved it.  That he deserved to be cared for.

Simon never lied, and so that was enough for him

---

taglist

@insanitywishes @18-toe-beans @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @simplygrimly @cinnamonflavoredhugs @finder-of-rings @deluxewhump @ashintheairlikesnow @briars7 @albino-whumpee @thatsthewhump

[star-spangledstud]

Diamonds

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (female!)reader

Summary: You knew exactly how to push Steve’s buttons.

Word Count: 4000-ish. 

Warnings: +18 SMUT (don’t read if you’re a minor), dom!Steve, slight daddy!kink if you squint, rough intercourse, no protection (wrap it before you tap it), reckless driving (don’t do it, kids.), cursing

A/N: I’ve been posting a lot of content. We’ll see how long I’m able to keep the creative juices flowing. Quarantine’s got me all fucked up, but at least it’s given me time to waste on Tumblr. Enjoy :)

Steve was angry. He was fucking pissed off, to be exact and it was all because of you. You knew it, felt the way his eyes drilled holes in your back all night. You could practically sense him fuming from across the club, even though the darkness as a result of the smoke machine near the spinning table engulfed you and the 150 other people in the room. 

Of course, it was Tony’s idea to rent one of the fanciest clubs in NYC for the night. You’d completed a very big mission just a few weeks ago, and after everyone had time to heal in the medical bay and file the appropriate paperwork, the case was closed at last, and he insisted on a celebration unlike any other. 

Bottles of champagne flowed across the dancefloor. Sweaty bodies of special agents, paper pushers from the lowest possible level and Avengers alike, all pressed up against each other in the room hotter than what you imagined hell to be like. You didn’t even fucking feel like going when Tony first proposed the idea, but everybody knew you couldn’t say no to him. Nobody could say no to him and his lavish parties. Not to mention the fact that you never wanted to go and yet you always managed to be the last to leave. You blamed the alcohol. 

He’d hired the best DJ in town. His tunes kept you on your feet despite the fact that they were starting to get sore, hips swaying sensually to the music in between Natasha and some random level 3 agent whose name you couldn’t remember for the life of you. He was just as tall as you in your patent leather Louboutins, his hair swept carelessly to one side. He clearly hadn’t changed after work, because he still had his SHIELD pin mended to his breast pocket. You’d just pulled his tie to drag him closer to you, which earned another hard glare from Steve. Everybody in the fucking room knew you were his, they didn’t even dare to come close to you, but this guy was clearly wasted and you’d initiated it. 

You could feel level 3′s dick through his pants while he continued to grind against your ass, just as you did to Natasha. You smiled, bopping your head along to the song, your curly hair bouncing lusciously up and down. A quick glance towards the bar made you snicker soundlessly, afraid he’d be able to hear you despite the loud music and people singing along. The thought of him being able to smell the perfume on your skin, his favorite, from all the way over there made your heart flutter and your stomach tighten.

He looked fucking good. Hair slicked back, deep red button-down loosened at the top tucked tightly into dark denim. He hadn’t shaved, he knew damn well how much you liked that, and his eyes weren’t so blue anymore in the strobe lights that illuminated him every twenty seconds. They looked black as if his pupils had bled into his irises.

You’d put effort into your appearance too, he could tell in an instant. Your lipgloss sparkled the same as the diamond necklace he had given you that hung around your neck. He remembered buying it for you, eyes nearly rolling out of his fucking skull when the guy that helped him pick it out told him the price. Your dress, black and short, had a split so high he was certain he could see your pussy if you made a wrong move, meaning level 3 could see it too. 

He downed another glass of scotch, slamming it down on the bar with a growl so low only Bucky could hear it. He shook his head at his friend, who also refused to get on the dancefloor. The way 21st-century people danced was unlike anything they were used to seeing back in their day. He couldn’t get drunk, but Steve could taste the alcohol on his tongue and the warmth of it in the back of his throat when he gulped another glass down. He hadn’t even noticed Bucky left him for Bruce, who also wasn’t dancing. Didn’t give a fuck, either way. All he had eyes for was you, showing off his money like it was yours, to begin with. 

You didn’t do that often. You were humble, wore jeans and a t-shirt on most days, didn’t indulge much. You tried to live sustainably where possible through recycling and cruelty-free beauty products. Hell, Steve had only actually seen you wear the necklace a handful of times, including your aunt’s wedding just to piss her off and make her jealous. He knew you had money too, it was a perk of being an Avenger, but spending money on yourself wasn’t the same as lavish gifts from your handsome as fuck boyfriend. Besides, you donated a lot of it to animal shelters and safe houses for women. 

“The party’s out there, you know?”

You gulped, skin-crawling in fear when Steve appeared out of the bathroom stall without warning. How long he’d been hiding the bathroom you didn’t know, but he knew it was you the second you pushed open the door and stepped inside. 

He could smell that guy on you as you stood in front of him, cheeks red from dancing and stray hairs sticking out from the sea of curls. It made his fists curl, his brow crease. He was mad as hell. 

“You scared me,” you said exasperatedly, blood rushing to your cheeks when he stepped out of the shadows and into view.

He didn’t smile back to you, which told you exactly how the night was going to go down. 

“You havin’ fun?” He asked, walking around you in a circle after you stepped away from the dirty mirror. 

He wanted to drink you in, take in your appearance while you still looked put together. Soon enough, the charade would be over and he’d have your make up smeared, clothes on the floor and your hair a mess. 

“Yeah,” you smirked, “you?”

“Not yet,” he growled in your ear, “but I will.”

He’d disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared, leaving you leaning against the dusty sink, breathing deeply in and out through your nose. When you trusted in your ability to stand up without tripping over your own feet, you grabbed your lipgloss from your purse, along with your perfume, of which you added two more spritzes. You didn’t want him to know how easily he was able to get to you, how easily he was able to make you shake. 

He had a plan, concocted it while drinking expensive scotch at the bar. Steve came up with it while he was watching you grind on another man. He knew why you did it, you wanted to get a rise out of him, and getting a rise out of him was exactly what you did. Of course, he could do the same to you, which is why he left you stumbling in the bathroom with nothing but a promise he intended to keep.

You returned to the floor after getting another vodka sprite from the other end of the bar. He noticed how empty your wrist was and told himself he’d buy you a diamond bracelet to match the necklace. You’d like that. He’d fuck you raw and stupid after giving it to you, just like he did when he gave you the necklace. 

Even when you were starting to get a buzz, you could still feel his fucking eyes on you, never leaving your swaying hips, bouncing tits and shaking ass. For a moment, the two of you made eye contact. Instantly, you knew you were screwed. You could read him like a book. 

“Steve,” you gasped when his hands tightly gripped your waist suddenly, “you’re dancing.”

He was on the dancefloor, yeah, but the man was hardly dancing. The only thing he was moving was his hips against your ass. He didn’t need to tell Level 3′s sorry ass to fuck off, the look on his face had the young man scrambling away in fear immediately. Natasha had left minutes before, busying herself with the hottest bartender in the club while he poured her a dirty martini with five olives.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He whispered in your ear, lips pushing against soft flesh. His beard scratched your throat, sending delicious tingles down your entire spine.

“What do you mean?” You asked, pretending to be oblivious, “I’m not doing anything.”  

Steve’s hand caressed your hip, snaking around the front to touch your barely clothed pussy. Your cheeks reddened, eyes frantically searching for anyone who might be watching but finding none. Everyone around you was either drunk or making out. 

“What are you doing Steve?!” You hissed, biting your tongue, “Someone might see us.” 

“I don’t care. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked, kissing the side of your face and neck, “it is, I know it.”

He dragged you out of the club and into his BMW, harshly securing your seatbelt before getting behind the wheel. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel the entire drive, and you could see him straining against his pants. You didn’t say anything, the only sound audible being the angrily revving engine of his car. He was flooring it the whole way there, ignoring red lights and swerving around every car on the road that was in his way. 

“See how it feels when you tease me,” he mumbled, “you’re gonna be fucking sorry real soon.”

“No,” you stammered, “please.”

He sat down on the bed, grabbing your wrists and yanking you down over his lap. You kicked your heels in the air in an attempt to get free from his iron grasp, but he only needed one hand to restrain you while the other traveled up the back of your legs so slowly it made you want to cry. His hand disappeared under your dress and found no panties, just as he expected. He knew you too well. 

“You’re real bad, aren’t you?” He asked, retrieving his hand back so he could pull the dress up to expose your naked pussy, “did you think I was gonna let you get away with what you just did to me?” 

“I didn’t do anything!” you mewled, “I swear.” 

“Grinding up on that guy all night? Letting him touch you in front of me? How dare you?”

He caressed your ass, tracing his fingers over your lips before smacking both cheeks without warning. You squirmed, wiggling on top of him. You’d seen him angry before but only on rare occasions; either when he was chasing after bad guys, or when you’d pissed him off and this time, you’d pissed him off real good. Just like you wanted to do. 

“Don’t you dare move against my dick,” he said with a tug on your hair, ���or you don’t get to cum.”

He plunged three fingers into your mouth, silently ordering you to suck on them while he continued to keep your wrists bound. You already knew what was going to happen and it took every ounce of strength for you not to move. He chuckled when you nibbled on his fingers, coating each and every one of the three with your saliva. 

He plunged them into you without warning. You cried out, unable to stop yourself from trying to break from his grip on you. You were already wet, probably didn’t even need the saliva, but it helped his fingers glide in so easily it made him want to laugh. You were putty in his hands and he knew it. How the hell had he gone from being little, insecure, baby Steve to this man, this unrelenting, unforgiving force of a man? 

“Shut up,” he growled, picking up the pace, “did I tell you you could make noise?”

“N-no,” you stammered, “no Steve.” 

His fingers left your cunt before you could properly enjoy it. You knew why he did it; he was getting you ready for his cock. You’d had it countless times in places you couldn’t even recall, had it gently and so hard you couldn’t talk after, but you always needed time to adjust.

He grabbed ahold of your legs with his slick-coated fingers and picked you up, effortlessly tossing you onto the bed like a ragdoll. You heaved, hair already beginning to stick to your forehead while you watched him slowly unbutton his shirt.

“What do I keep telling you about pissing me off, huh?” He taunted, slipping the shirt over his broad shoulders.

“I told you not to do that,” his pants were next, falling limply at his feet after he unzipped and unbuttoned them, “but you don’t listen. You don’t listen because you like what happens when I’m mad, don’t you?” 

“No, I’m sorry,” you breathed, gazing up at him through fake eyelashes, “I didn’t mean to-”

You weren’t sorry. You enjoyed this, this side of Steve. Loved it even, how sometimes, he was able to let go of his own righteousness and give in to his darkness. It had taken almost a year of being in a vanilla relationship for him to show you this side of him, and you’d ached for it ever since. You did it on purpose, grinding with other people, dressing up in clothing inappropriate for the occasion. Short skirts, tight blouses, and fuck, those sheer black stockings with the black stripe running along the back of your heel to your panties. Short shorts and cropped tops in the summer, so short they nearly showed off your fucking tits. He hated it because men worldwide couldn’t help but look at you even though you were his and his alone. You were his prized possession. 

“Don’t lie to me.”

“You know,” you answered smugly, “I could feel his erection on my ass the whole time.” 

Steve growled, pushing your back into the mattress before starting towards you.   

“I told you what happens when you make me angry,” he said, lowering himself onto the bed until he was straddling you, one leg on each side of your trembling hips, “you know what happens, don’t you?” 

“Yes, Steve,” you moaned, rocking your hips up against him. 

You gripped his bicep, but once again, he used his hand to bind your wrists, this time holding them above your head, “You gonna be good for me and apologize?” 

“Yes,” you cried out, “I’m sorry!” 

You still weren’t. In fact, you had to fight the urge to grin. You had him right where you wanted him, despite his hold on you. You wanted him to fuck you until you couldn’t see straight and he was going to give it to you either way. 

He let go of you, hands traveling across the diamonds around your neck. He ripped the necklace from your throat in one single motion, earning a gasp and a loud ‘what the fuck?!’ from you when it snapped in half. He tossed it to the ground as if it was trash, discarding it like it hadn’t cost him the price of a house. 

“Daddy’s gonna buy you a whole lot more diamonds if you’re good,” he whispered, “Is that what gets your little pussy dripping? Me spending my hard-earned money on you? Answer me!”

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “shoes, too. And a car.” 

He laughed, taking your clothed tits and rubbing them before ripping the silk dress in half with his bare hands.

“What do you need a car for? You don’t even drive. I do. I’m like your fucking private chauffeur, always driving you around.” He was right about that.  

You smirked, “want you to fuck me in it.”

Steve began to grow tired of your mind games. His dick was hard as granite, as were his bulging muscles, and he needed a release fast. He’d go back to being sweet old Steve after he got what he wanted, but for now, he was a man in heat, needing to take what was rightfully his. One of the busted diamonds pierced the skin on your ass when you found yourself laying on it, but you didn’t care. You welcomed the sting.

Steve rolled you over until you were on your stomach. With one arm around your throat in a chokehold, he lifted up your body, taking you in a position that could almost be classified as Doggystyle. He lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the lovely sight and the sweet smell of your pussy dripping just for him. Your love for him was like a fucking disease and unfortunately, it turned out to be terminal. You ached with anticipation while he dragged the head of his cock along your entrance, back and forth between your pussy lips. 

The air was taken from your lungs when he shoved himself inside you, not wasting any time with pleasantries and soft-spoken words. He bit down on your shoulder, earning a loud moan to escape your lips. He wasn’t gentle, this wasn’t making love, but it was what you both desired and he was more than happy to give it to you. 

You whined breathlessly, pussy clenching around the length of his cock as he drove into you.

“Could’ve just told me you wanted me to fuck you,” he groaned, “’stead of makin’ me all mad at Tony’s party.”

You wanted to tell him off and if you would, he’d probably have to tell you you were right because he never did this unless he had a reason, but your mouth remained shut instead. Steve was a softy at all times, sweet and gentle and a true gentleman, except for when you brought out the beast in him. 

He grabbed your hair, yanking it so your body stood flush against his. You could feel him, every inch of his marvelous abs expanding and contracting and his hips, slapping against your ass with each thrust. You arched your back into him, exposing your neck to his lips. He began to suck on your skin immediately, leaving marks that would last for days on your beautifully soft skin. This pulled another sinful moan from your glossy lips. 

You turned your head, forcing his head towards your face with your free hand while the other grasped the one on your hip. You kissed him hard, lips and teeth and tongues crashing together. You could taste the scotch on his breath and he caught a whiff of your strawberry lip gloss. You smiled into his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting down on his skin. They’d see the bruise in the morning, although come afternoon, the serum would’ve taken care of it. You hoped somebody would see. 

“Goddamnit,” he cursed after tasting blood, hand around your hair loosening before sliding down the length of your body in search of your clit, “gonna make you cum so hard you can only say my name.”

He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and slapped your ass with it before resting it on your hip so he could get a better grip. 

You whimpered when his fingers made contact, another moan drawn from you when he began to rub the sensitive bud forcefully. You couldn’t hold on much longer. 

“Want you to say it,” he ordered, “say my name. Say it right now.”

“Steve,” you cried out so loud you were sure whoever had the room next to his could hear, “oh, fuck Steve!”

“Don’t stop,” he rubbed faster, “keep saying it. Gonna fuck my name from your brain, fuck it right out.” 

“Steve,” you squeaked, “Steve, Steve, Steve.” 

You grabbed the wrist of the hand on your clit and dug your nails into his skin, whining his name over and over until you couldn’t stand the tightening of your stomach any longer.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he commanded, “I didn’t give you permission to stop.” 

 You did as told while he continued to ram his cock deep into you, grunts escaping from his lips while he pounded into you at an unforgiving pace. Your throat would be sore in the morning, but you didn’t stop, chanting his name over and over like a prayer.  

“You gonna cum all over my dick, huh?” He throbbed inside of you, panting harshly against your lips.

“Want you to cum inside me, Steve,” you dug your nails into him, “give me your fucking cum right now.” 

“Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m gonna give you my fucking cum.”

You loved drawing profanities from a man who didn’t curse. It was like a game to you, seeing how many curses you could squeeze out of America’s golden boy before he’d collapse on top of you. You loved how dirty he could be behind closed doors, loved the contrast between the sweet and gentle Steve that held your hand in public and this monster of a man who bought you expensive things and fucked you senseless with his thick cock afterward. He loved it too, didn’t even know it until you pissed him off for real one time and it just happened out of the blue, but after that, he hadn’t looked back. It came so naturally, he was afraid of himself sometimes, but then he’d see that blissful sheen, that fucked out look on your face and the smile you wore just for him and he was instantly reminded of why he did it. 

Because it felt good. 

You already knew you’d be bruised when you’d wake up next to him in the morning from the way his fingers grasped you tightly, but you loved it, knowing you carried his markings under your clothing and you were sure he loved it too. 

He didn’t stop, not even when you’re moaning his name so loud it’s almost deafening. He didn’t stop when your pussy clenched painfully around his dick, didn’t stop when you began to tremble and shake so hard he thought you were having a fucking fit. You started moving away from him in an attempt to ease the overbearing sensation of his fingers still forcefully rubbing on your clit, but he simply yanked you back against him, sweat-covered biceps flexing while his thrusts became so sloppy he could hardly stay upright. You gripped the headboard so tight you thought it would splinter. 

His cum shot up into you in hot spurts, coating your walls in it while he rode out his orgasm. His hand finally left your pussy, allowing you to breathe in what felt like ages.

“Jesus,” the drawl of his voice sounded like music to your ears, “you’re gonna be the death of me.” 

Smiling sweetly at the man beside you, you pressed your lips softly to his burning cheek. Then, you rested your head on his shoulder, allowing his arm to engulf you and pull you flush to his heaving body. You sure managed to cause Captain America to work up a sweat. 

He inspected the purple spots on your neck and looked down, eyes scanning the dark red marks on your hips that were there to stay for at least a few days. He’d learned to accept them, to love them, but he hated the idea of hurting you at first. You had to remind him each time that you were completely okay with it, that it didn’t actually hurt in a bad way. 

“I’m sorry about the diamonds,” he offered, looking at the discarded Cartier on the floor, “and the dress.” 

“Should be,” you mumbled, eyes closing at the sound of his heartbeat in your ear, “those weren’t cheap.” 

It wasn’t even your money that just went to waste. Hell, they could probably fix it up at the store, but that wasn’t a part of the game. It wasn’t good enough.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he kissed your forehead, “I told you I would.”

The next day, he did indeed buy you a new diamond necklace. And a diamond bracelet. And earrings. 

Now, all you needed was a ring to match. 

[muwur]

idk if this counts as an emergency or comfort request but ive been havin a REAL bad body image week nsnnnsnnnsnn could i maybe request headcanons for either oikawa or kuroo (u can pick if u wanna) with an s/o who is rlly self conscious about being chubby/has a really hard time with food and mayb feels like worthless because theyre not the ideal body type? idk sorry if thats dumb aaaah thank u sm if u choose to do this

self-love

♡ scenarios ♡ for oikawa and kuroo

❧ gn reader

✎ 3.7k words

a/n: hey hun, im sorry to hear you’ve been having a rough time lately. this kind of request actually rlly hits close to home, and if u ever need anything, ur mor than welcome to reach out to me :) i can also help look for resources for help, anything really. this goes for all y’all! i dont want none y’all to feel alone with anything ur going thru cuz we’re in this together! and no need to thank me, the pleasure is mine luv 🥰💕 nothing about this is dumb, ur feelings are valid. i hope this will bring you n many others some comfort. also,, FUCK BODY STANDARDS MAKIN US BELIEVE THERE’S AN IDEAL TYPE BC THERE IS NONE N Y’ALL R BEAUTIFUL N IF U DUN THINK SO I WILL COME OVER DER,,, ok im done 🥰🥰 (more notes at the bottom of this, i talk a lot n think its important, didnt wanna add it up here bc it was too long lolol) tw: mentions of bad body and implies disordered eating behaviors

 oikawa

♡ Oikawa was pretty keen, so when he observed a gradual shift in your behavior, he definitely took notice

♡ One day when you showed up to lunchtime empty-handed and sat with your two friends, casually chatting, Oikawa and Iwaizumi gave you a questioning look

♡ “Where’s your lunch, y/n?” Oikawa asked

♡ “Oh, I, uh, ate it already, actually.”

♡ Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow and offered you some of his, but you declined, thanking him and stating you were already full

♡ Later that day in class, however, Oikawa couldn’t help but notice the absence of your boxed lunch container in your unzipped backpack

♡ The next day, you came empty-handed again, blaming it on your forgetfulness during your rush to get to school

♡ However, it became a normal occurrence over time, and while you seemed fine, uneasiness began to prick inside Oikawa’s stomach

♡ Those smiles you wore appeared fragile, and the laughter that rumbled from your throat felt restrained

♡ You seemed more tired and unfocused than usual

♡ Preoccupied, withdrawn, and distant

♡ He could sense something was bothering you, no matter how much you may (or may not) have tried to hide it

♡ On his way to school one morning, he made sure to stop by a convenience store to pick one of your favorite snacks, thinking it was a simple gesture to brighten up the somber aura he’s been detecting from you

♡ “I have a surprise for you, y/n~” Oikawa announced with excitement, rummaging through his bag to pull out the snack and show it to you. “Look, it’s your favorite!”

♡ You could only offer him an uneasy smile, “Oh, you shouldn’t have...” You really shouldn’t have...

♡ When he noticed the tension in your body and expression, a frown appeared on his lips

♡ “Y/n? Is something wrong?” He reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder but you swiftly flinched away

♡ ”I’m fine..!”

♡ Surprised at your sudden movement and outburst, you both felt a split second of apprehension crackle in the air before you started to gather your items in a rush

♡ Sighing, you repeated, “I’m fine.”

♡ He wasn’t sure whether you were speaking to him or yourself

♡ “Thanks for the snack, but I’ll pass. Have it for me. You need it more, anyways; you have volleyball practice. I’ll see you tomorrow, Oikawa,” you offered him a solemn smile and left before he could even reply

♡ Some time had passed before he could finally get you to open up to him

♡ And when you did, it crushed his heart to see how much your insecurities broke you

♡ It hurt to hear how low you thought about yourself; how you couldn’t see the beauty in your being; how you deemed food, your body, and yourself as your worst enemies

♡ Thus bringing you to the conclusion that maybe you’d be happy and like yourself if you could just give up that midday snack or your school lunch

♡ Even raincheck a cafe date you were supposed to have together

♡ Maybe also skip dinner, sometimes breakfast the next morning as well

♡ You could manage on just water

♡ Little sacrifices to shed some weight, feel better, and get closer to your ideal body goals

♡ You admitted, however, to questioning whether any of it was worth it

♡ The constant states of hunger, pain, and defeat you lived in

♡ Only to feel as though you were getting nowhere

♡ Oikawa was well aware of today’s beauty standards. I mean, he himself was often praised for his natural charm and beauty

♡ And you felt you could never reach that ideal

♡ “Oikawa, you’re too good for me.”

♡ His eyebrows knitted in concern as he lifted his right hand to caress your cheek softly. “And why do you say that?”

♡ Tears threatened to prick at your eyes. All you could was stare at the ground in silent shame

♡ When you still said nothing, he leaned in closer, his brown gaze softly pleading

♡ “Y/n, look at me.”

♡ When your eyes flickered up to meet his own, Oikawa asked, “You know I love you, right?”

♡ His question was met with a meek, “Yes.”

♡ From your clouded glaze, he could tell that you had a hard time believing in your own response

♡  “Do you know why?”

♡ But before you could respond, he was already answering his own question

♡ “Well...” he began, glancing up in thought and wearing a small smile

♡ “Something about you makes me want to be by your side. I love to see your smiles and hear your laughter, but I always want to be there to hold you when you’re crying and in pain.”

♡ “You’re supportive. You understand what I need, and I don’t always have to explain myself to you. You take your time with me and make me feel like I can be myself. Not many people have stuck around to actually get to know me. Because of that, you’ve never failed to make my day a little better with just your presence.”

♡ “You’re strong and caring. I can rely on you to have my back, and I hope I provide that same comfort to you as well.”

♡ “I love being able to lazy around with you or go on adventures and discover something new. It’s comfortable and exciting at the same time.”

♡ “Your hands feel like they were made to hold mine.”

♡ He reached down to squeeze your hand gently

♡ “Kissing you makes me forget about everything else on my mind. I can just live in the present with you.”

♡ He moved close and gave you a peck above your eyebrow

♡ “You make me want to work hard and be a better person. You help motivate me to try my best, and you never give up on me. Why would I ever give up on you?”

♡  “I learn something new with you everyday. Like right now, I realize that I’ve never met someone who could so easily make my heart race as they could make my heart break.”

♡ “When I look at you, all I can think about is how beautiful you are and how lucky I am to have you in my life as a partner and one of my best friends. Nobody else could fill the gaps within me the same way you do.”

♡ Leaning over to brush his lips against your forehead, he muttered, “I’m going to love every part of you, inside and out. You’re already my ideal. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I could go on about every detail on why I feel so strongly for you, but I’m here to show you everything there is to appreciate about yourself because you’re worth every ounce of care and effort. And if you can’t see it in yourself right now, I’ll love you more than enough for the both of us until you learn to love yourself. I’m here to help.”

♡ And after crying out your tears into his shoulder as he held you close and rubbed your back, you both went to his house to relax and have some dinner

♡ He was patient with you, taking into account how having a meal may have made you feel anxious

♡ It was something small and simple that you two agreed to prepare and share, after some tender coaxing from Oikawa

♡ He later made a list in his journal about tips to keep in mind:

♡ ‘Check up on y/n often to see how they’re feeling’

♡ ‘Encourage them to eat meals/snacks. Don’t be too pushy, but be patient. Try to have eat with them when you can!’

♡ ‘Remind them they don’t have to earn the right to eat, and that their body doesn’t define their worth‘

♡ ‘Look into some mindfulness techniques!’

♡ ‘Don’t overvalue physical appearance. Also focus on all the other redeeming qualities y/n has! But of course I’m always gonna tell them they look cutee--’

♡ True to his word, he remained understanding

♡ He’s there to listen to you, or to sit with you in comforting silence

♡ During lunch he would share his food with you, reassuring you that it wasn’t something you had to avoid

♡ Some days he succeeds in encouraging you to share a milk bun or your favorite snack with him

♡ And on days you really didn’t feel like it, he never forces anything onto you and instead made sure you at least hydrated

♡ Oikawa spends some time doing research and gathering tips on how to help you

♡ Always reminds you of your worth and how you bring out the best in him

♡ He’ll never hold it against you if you ever become hostile, irritated, or in denial. He knows you’re hurting and doesn’t take it personally

♡ Sends you cute memes with all those emoji hearts

♡ Also some food puns (Oikawa: “I’m soy into you. Please brie mine. We are mint to be. I ap-peach-iate you. You got a pizza my heart. Olive you--” ; You: *puts a hand over his mouth* ; Oikawa: 🥺 ; You: “...olive you, too”)

♡ Always ready to give up what he’s doing to make sure you’re okay

♡ Will stay up with you late at night to talk on the phone

♡ Reminds you you’re beautiful at least 8 times a day

♡ If y’all ever go shopping and you try things on in the fitting room,, Oikawa would be your #1 hype man

♡ One time you tried something on, and you were almost too ashamed to step out and show him

♡ But when you did, you were met with his surprise and excitement

♡ “dfghjklkuyfuh” was all you could process from his incoherent speech before he insisted on treating you by purchasing it for you (Oikawa: “Can you wear this for me, like, everyday?” ; You: *weird look* “Why are you like this??” you love it tho--)

♡ Gushes internally over how cute you are during your movie + cuddle sessions, mostly pays attention to you rather than the movie

♡ Mid-movie be like:

♡ Oikawa: “So, uh, what’s happening again?

♡ You: -.- “You might as well google the whole synopsis instead of watching it”

♡ Oikawa: “...it’s not my fault you’re distracting, babe”

♡ Always politely excuses himself from his fangirls to get to you. Also reassures you he much prefers to be with you than anyone else and that you’re the best catch ;)) (You: “Oikawa, no” ; Oikawa: “y/n, yes”)

♡ Suggested doing some meditation together once

♡ You listened to a recording and you sat side by side on a mat, but Oikawa thought the person’s voice sounded funny so he had a hard time focusing

♡ But it ended with y’all laughing and making jokes as he lay his lead on your lap and you played with his hair

♡ Y’all get better at it tho

♡ Cooking dates! To try to show you that food isn’t an enemy and can bring people together :)

♡ Puts music on so y’all can jam together (Oikawa: “Oh my gosh, y/n, this is my favorite song, you’re not even rEADY to see me perform-- ; You: “Oikawa, t-the food! It’s burning!!”)

♡ Cooking dates also show that you should never leave the stove unattended

♡ Every once in a while he suggests seeking professional help. He wishes he could take away your pain and help you all his own, but he knows this is more complicated and required outside help, too

♡ Has help resources READY

♡ As well as small snacks like granola bars for you if you ever feel faint

♡ He doesn’t hesitate to confront you when he feels it’s necessary and he’s worried about your habits

♡ He handles things well, though, and often convinces you to take care of yourself more, even though he’s there to look after you

♡ Has made it his mission to help you win against your battle with insecurities

♡ Overall, he’s very caring and empathetic, hoping one day you’ll see yourself the way he sees you 💖 : strong, amazing, breathtaking, & perfectly imperfect

kuroo

♡ Occasionally, you would think about the day you broke down in front of him

♡ Your body racked with repressed whimpers as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes and describe the recent state of your mind through choked sobs

♡ Lately, your thoughts were being especially relentless in making you feel miserable

♡ Oftentimes you’d be able to shove the negative thoughts to the back of your mind and carry on your day as usual, expertly acting as though everything in your life was going smoothly

♡ However, you found yourself fighting a losing battle against your own conscious, heavily preoccupied with thoughts of your own worthlessness

♡ And so you tried to cope

♡ But you were painfully aware of everything you felt was wrong with you

♡ You felt uncomfortable in your skin

♡ Every time you passed by your own reflection, you couldn’t help but mentally recoil at the image looking back at you

♡ Your clothes didn’t fit right

♡ Even when you opted for baggy clothes, you felt like you were taking up all the space in them

♡ Maybe it was the weight gain. You could see and feel it in your face, your arms, your stomach, your legs... everywhere

♡ You just wanted to hide away your shame

♡ Perhaps it was the dessert you allowed yourself to eat the other day. Foolish of you to think then that you wouldn’t regret it as much as you did afterwards

♡ As a consequence of those foolish actions, you made mental notes about anything and everything you ate. What it was, how much of it you had, etc

♡ Trying to restrict so that maybe you would lose some weight and come to like how you look

♡ Your obsessive thoughts of food and weight overtook your mind like a dark cloud

♡ Your favorite foods, which before would never fail to brighten your mood, taunted you with shame and guilt

♡ Exercise? Sometimes it was an activity you genuinely enjoyed. Other times, a chore that made you feel shitty or numb and reinforced your unhealthy desire to lose

♡ And you sometimes found yourself crying over your last meal, one you know you didn’t need. One you didn’t deserve

♡ And each time you released the reins on your self-control, you felt pathetic going against the vow you made to yourself  

♡ At this rate, you’d never be beautiful or be happy with yourself

-You’d remain unworthy, fat, disgusting--

-But before you could continue, your story was cut off by the impact of Kuroo’s embrace

-Your surprise silenced your sobs, and you could only stare wide-eyed at the space in front of you as you felt his arms squeeze tightly around your frame

-You both sat there for a few moments on your knees, with your back lightly leaning against a wall

- “I’m sorry for the pain you’re experiencing,” he begins softly. “Thank you for sharing with me. It must’ve taken a lot for you to do that.”

-He was right. It was your first time reaching out to another person about this. It was the last thing you thought you would’ve done today

- “I want to let you know that you shouldn’t be ashamed for feeling this way. Reaching out is important and brings you the help you need to get better. I know you might not want help right now or think that these thoughts and behaviors are a problem. However, telling me about all this shows that some part of you is recognizing there’s something wrong and you can’t always handle it on your own.”

-There were many reasons you kept this to yourself. You didn’t want to bother anyone else. Your problems seemed so trivial.  You worried saying them aloud would confirm your beliefs. You were scared people would see you differently. You--

-The intrusive thoughts never failed to make you feel ashamed

-However, it was oddly comforting to release the pent up emotions. To know you didn’t have to bottle up this burden anymore, and that you weren’t alone

-You were about to murmur in response when,

- “Also, you’re an idiot, y/n.”

- “Wow, thanks, as if I don’t already think that about myself,” you bit back in response

-You were about to shove him away just when he released his grip around your body and placed his hands on your shoulders

-His eyes shone with determination and a faint, inviting smile spread on his lips

- “You are the one of the single most important things in my life. I just mean you’re an idiot in the sense that you’re overevaluating one aspect to define your whole self. You’ve forgotten about all your other redeeming qualities that contribute to who you are.”

♡ “Your size, weight, shape; none of that matters. What matters is your health and happiness. Neglecting yourself in order to reach an ‘ideal’ that you’ve concluded is the answer to your self-worth is only bringing you farther away from what you truly want.”

♡ “I don’t mean to downplay any of your emotions or how significant this is to you. Your first step was to put your trust into someone else about this. That’s done. Now, I’m here to help you undergo self-evaluation and serve as encouragement on your journey to self-love and acceptance.”

♡ “I also want to remind you progress is not linear. There will be times when things are harder, and that’s okay; it’s part of the process. If you’re open to getting better in the future, I’m sure as hell going to be there every step of the way.”

♡ And with a soft peck to the forehead and another hug, he nuzzled into your neck and muttered, “I love you. And I want you to love yourself. So, please, allow me to help you through this and I guarantee that by the end of it all, it’ll have been so worth it.”

♡ Unsure what to say, you gripped his jacket tighter, buried your head in his shoulder, and muttered, “Thank you.”

♡ While the negative feelings about yourself remained afterward, you were relieved that your boyfriend was supportive and calm

♡ He treated you the same as always, teasing you over dumb things while making you feel like you stood among the highest peaks on Earth

♡ The day after, he had shown up to your house, weary-eyed and carrying his backpack

♡ “Kuroo? Why are you here? Also, why do you look so tired??”

♡ He stepped into your house with a yawn. He stretched his arms, then reached for his bag and whipped out his laptop

♡ “I stayed up a bit last night to do some research, babe! I also learned a lot about nutrition and molecular gastronomy, so I could help you come up with a meal plan that you’re okay with!”

♡ You were touched he was educating himself on how to help you

♡ But you drew the line at the science jokes-- (Kuroo: “You know you love them.” ; You: “‘Na’ I don’t.” ; Kuroo: :ooo “Did you just-- Marry me.”) (Na = sodium lol)

♡ His nutritional research helped you to learn the contents of food beyond calories; mans explains the vitamins, nutrients, amino acids, etc in them that you need and their benefits

♡ “Trout, avocados, and almonds have vitamin E, which is good for your skin! Oh, and don’t get me started on bananas. Yes, they have carbs (which your body needs anyway as a source of energy!), but POTASSIUM?? Shit’s gonna regulate your fluid balance, maintain heart health, stimulate normal muscle function, AND help your brain to communicate with the rest of your body!”

♡ ALSO cooking dates; just as chaotic (“Aw mannn, the egg exploded all over the microwave!” dont ask y it was being microwaved)

♡ Over time, he’s taken mental notes about your thoughts, feelings, triggers, etc

♡ He’s quick to pick up on your mood and will always ask you how you’re doing

♡ Tries to do something special for you on days you’re especially not feeling well, like taking you on a spontaneous date! (You: “Do you know how to ice skate?” ; Kuroo: “Uhh,,, after today, I will hopefully”)

♡ But will also opt for staying in with you and cuddling when you don’t want to go out (Kuroo: “I heard this movie is soooo bad! ...wanna watch it?”)

♡ Invited you to the beach with his team during the first week of summer

♡ You were unsure about this, since that meant going out in public, potentially with minimal clothing

♡ You initially sat on a beach towel under an umbrella, wearing the security of a T-shirt. He’d been aware of how you felt ever since he asked you to come, so he would sit with you and link an arm around your shoulder

♡ “I’m lucky I get to spend this day with you,” he’d say. “You look gorgeous. You always do. Now, I wanna see you smile and have fun. Let’s go take a dip, yeah?” He offered his hand, which you shyly took, and pulled you up

♡ Then immediately picked you up and started running to the water to get you soaking wet, and you were forced to ditch the heavy, waterlogged shirt

♡ However, you silently thanked him for his sweet words, making you feel secure enough to just forget your worries and enjoy the warm sun and cool water

♡ He also tries his best to lessen your anxieties over food and often shares/eats meals with you

♡ Reminds you everyday how much you’re worth to him and that there’s nothing about you that needs to change

♡ This sweet, protective, n smart boi will treat you how you deserve. It’s a guarantee he’ll be there through thick and thin, and he’s excited for the day you realize you’re just as amazing as he knows you are 💕

a/n: oop this was rlly long lol mb, i just may or may not personally know a bit about this so i went oFF

also neded to some som silly n fluff bc we all need dat

also, these r like kinda hc’s ?? but also a deconstructed oneshot/scenario?? bc they provide some rly brief bg story? one from more  of the character perspective while the other more on y/n before we get  to the hc’s about how he treats y/n. how everyone struggles w body image is different n i wanted to portray a bit of what it felt like and how it could manifest in ppl’s behaviors/thoughts. however, this is not to say that everyone feels exactly like this. what i wrote only represents a fraction of it all.

by providing some sort of bg i hope im not making u feel like this isnt u  or that u cant relate, pls lmk if i need to change anything to make it  right for u <3 ok now im actually done sry long author’s note  rfguhofe this is just rlly important to me y’all  , stay safe n take care, much luv for u <3

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Bing going up to Google after a meeting or something.Google sighs and tells him to bother someone else or something and calls him annoying or something and Bing kinda finally breaks down and says he’s sorry for being annoying and being stupid and that he’s useless or something and some of the other egos watch it unfold, but Bing just leaves the room instead and maybe cries? Y/N passes him in the hall and tries to say hi but he just keeps walking cause he doesn’t want them to see him like that 🥥

………..

Hearing footsteps, Google didn’t need to look twice before realizing it was Bing who was approaching him after the meeting. 

With a sigh he shook his head, turning back to the television he was trying to repair. Wilford had “accidentally” shot at the corner of it, so now he had to fix the mess.

“I’m a little busy at the moment,” he huffed. “It seems like you always bother me, and not any of my three other clones. Go talk to them if you’re that bored-”

“I just..wanna say that I’m sorry for being an annoying piece of sh*t. I gotta admit, that’s all I’m really good for now, right?”

The blue android blinked in surprise, looking over his shoulder to see Bing take off his sunglasses. Oily tears were filling up his eyes–which was a shocking sight considering how optimistic and hyper he always seemed to be.

Google opened his mouth to say something, but Bing just waved him off, forcefully smiling. “Don’t bother. I get it..no one wants me around. I’m useless.  I’m stupid. I’m inferior.” He wiped his face. “I can’t even f*cking talk properly. But see? We’re even now.”

He patted his shoulder, before he turned and left the conference room, while the older android watched him leave, speechless.

A few of the other Ipliers were still there, having witnessed everything, and they also shared expressions of concern. Though none of them thought to follow.

……..

“So…you’re basically a clone like Oliver?” You asked as you walked down the hallway, glancing at the “Mini-Bing” on your shoulder. 

He looked just like the normal-sized android, but with a white tanktop and black jeans. It’s rare that he showed up around Ego Inc–and it’s especially rare to see him separate from Bing–though you were asked to look after him while Bing went to the meeting.

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I’m just his cool little bro, I guess.”

“Well, at least you two are close.” You chuckled softly, about to ask him another question when you spotted Bing turning the corner. 

But as you went to say hi, you stopped upon seeing that…he was crying?

“Hey, you alright Bing?”

For a very brief moment, he glanced up at you. Though he quickly sniffled and ducked his head, rubbing his eyes as he rushed past you without speaking a single word.

You and Mini-Bing looked back at him, confused and alarmed by what was going on with him. “Rough meeting?”

“I dunno. I’ve never seen him that upset..”

…….

After that encounter, you decided to drop Mini-Bing off at Oliver’s room, telling him to look after him while you checked up on Bing.

Though apparently, he didn’t even get into his room–as the scanner beside the door was smashed and he was curled up against the wall. His face was buried in his arms, glasses in shattered pieces beside him as he quietly sobbed. You could even see oil staining his arms and jeans.

Seeing him this way ached your heart more than anything else in the world–as you and him were close friends. 

But the fact he tried to ignore you earlier was..most unusual.

He sensed you sitting next to him, and he looked over–eyes still full of tears and his orange pupils dimmer than normal. “I..I-I didn’t mean to ignore ya earlier. Totally my bad..” He sniffled.

“It’s okay.” You moved closer to him. “What happened?”

“..I just..” He sighed, hiding his face again. “I regret being created.”

Instantly your heart crumpled at his statement. “What? Why? Who said-?”

“I-I’m just finally agreein’ with all of the sh*t that’s been said about me. It’s all true.”

“...Bing-”

"Just look at me!” He lashed out, showing you his oil-stained arm. “I-I can’t even cry like a normal godd*mn person!! I’m always gonna be known as some dumb f*cking robot who should just be shut down and thrown into a-!!”

“Hey..that’s enough.” You put your arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

As soon as his rage appeared, it died down with a whimper as he hugged you back. He tucked his head under your chin as he hiccuped, wishing he could curl into you and hide away from everything. “I-I can’t...keep up the stupid jokes anymore, [y/n]. I thought that..b-by making them it’d hurt less. But god..it only makes it worse."

“I know..hiding your pain behind jokes is never good.” You stroked his hair soothingly. “But listen, none of those things you--or anyone else--said about yourself are true.”

“Bullsh*t-”

“No. It’s not bullshit. Now listen to me..you weren’t created by mistake. Sure, Google might be more popular, but out of all the search engines on the web, yours was chosen, too. Your creators wouldn’t have given you such a lively personality if they didn’t care about you, right?”

Bing didn’t say anything, but you did feel him nod against your chest a little. His sobs had ceased for the moment.

“And..of course you got a few things left unfinished, but...that doesn’t make you any less capable of performing your functions and connecting with people at the same time. I..really admire your ability to balance that.”

With a sigh, you paused your rant to pull away a bit. Only then did he look up at you. His pupils had some brightness restored in them–which was a good sign. He was listening and understanding.

You cupped his cheek, brushing away the oily tears. “I love your jokes and skateboard tricks. They make me smile a lot, especially when I’m having an off-day. But you shouldn’t use them to hide your real feelings.”

“..y-you actually..find ‘em hilarious?” He smiled shakily

“I do! And…god there’s so much that I love about you, Bing. You make me happy and..I just want you to be happy, too.” You brought him back into a tight hug, which he returned with a grin.

“H-Hah…thanks, dude. At least one person here likes havin’ me around. Makes me feel a lot better.”

“Of course I love having you around. So..please don’t ever think you’re unwanted or a burden, okay?”

“..I’ll..work on that. But thank you so much, [y/n].” He squeezed you tighter, grateful to have someone who always believed in him.

[my-funky-little-cowboy]

Sadithur, stargazing.

[It’s long, for the sake of your dash the rest is below the cut]

Arthur sighed, sitting up on his cot, looked tonight wasgoing to be one of the increasingly more common sleepless nights. “Might aswell get some chores done.” He grunted as he picked himself up off his cot,chopping wood was off the table, but he was sure the basins could use a refilland there was always work to do with the horses.

The camp was quiet, peaceful in the moonlight, he workedquietly, refilling the water supply around the camp before taking a horse downto the lake to fill the basin. He took his time, enjoying the cool night air,happy to have a bit of down time even if sleep was being fickle.

He hitched up the horse and hauled the basin back to itslocation near the edge of camp, realizing as he passed that the horses coulduse more hay, he’d grab that next. He slung the bale over his shoulder as hemade his way to the field the moon had made its way high into the night sky, itwas a half moon night, and Arthur stopped to look at the sky before placing thebale on the ground with a grunt.

“That’ll do.” He said standing up and stretching out hisback, “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for you.” He chuckled, reached out to giveBob a pat. The horse snorted in response and Arthur dropped down under a nearbytree, taking some time to relish the quiet of the night. The footsteps werelight, but they approached from the other side of the tree. Arthur held still, notwanting to startle the person who probably didn’t expect for him to be underthe tree.

“Here boy.” Followed by a low whistle, Bob picked up hishead and trotted up quietly toward Sadie on the other side of the tree.

“I prefer Mr. Morgan, or just Arthur…” Sadie scoffed, and Arthurstood up and rounded the tree. “Couldn’t sleep?” he leaned against the tree.Sadie continued her work with Bob, “Some nights it’s harder than others, you?”

“It’s been a rough couple’a weeks, got a lot on my mind.” Heoffered up, pushing off the tree and giving Bob a pat, he stood facing Sadienow, his hand still resting on Bob’s mane.

“Wanna take a ride with me, Mrs. Adler? I could use fromfresh air, and I think it may do you some good too.” Using his presence to makeher direct her attention to him, she sighed and looked up at him.

“I think I need to be alone Mr. Morgan, I ain’t gonna bemuch company right now.” Her eyes met with Arthur’s, they were warm and softbut extremely tired. The man looked like he hadn’t had a good night sleep inweeks, and he probably hadn’t. Dutch had him running all over for the gang, shehad barely seen him more than a couple of time since they came down fromColter.

“Well, I know a place we can be alone…together. Sometimesyou need to get away to someplace quiet.” He refused to break the eye contact,his eyes going even softer as he looked at her.

“There is too much to do around here to just go off and mope…”Sadie’s eyes fell back to Bob.

“It’s the middle of the night, ain’t no one gonna mind ustaking a break.” Arthur came around the back of Bob, his hand reaching forhers. “Please, you’ll feel better.”

Sadie’s hand relented under his, he shoulders falling as sheturned to look at him. “Thanks Arthur, you’re a good man.” He chuckled at that,smile reaching his eyes, she had never seen him genuinely laugh. It looked goodon him.

“Let’s get going, it’s a pretty short ride.” He turned towardsthe field and whistled lowly for his horse, pulling himself into the saddle, turningto meet Sadie as she trotted to meet with him.

The ride was uneventful, the silence between them comfortableas both were individuals of few words, they reached the Eris field as the moon beganit’s decent in the sky, hitching up the horses near the base of a small hill,he climbed down and gestured towards the open field.

“Make yourself comfortable” he turned and walked off to thetop of the small hill, Sadie stared at him, she didn’t think he really meantfor them to be alone. In fact, she had taken the offer so she could have thecompany, though she never would admit that. She found herself following him upthe hill, finding him laying at the top staring up at the stars.

“Mind if I join you?” her voice was soft so as not tostartle him, though she knew he heard her, she’d never known the man to let hisguard down. Settling down next to him when he waved his hand in confirmation.

“This how you unwind? Didn’t take you for bein’ a stargazer,Mr. Morgan.” Her voice sprinkled with disbelief.

There was no response from the man beyond an annoyed grunt,they sat in tense silence for a few minutes before Arthur offered an olive branch,“Gives me something to lose myself in, to turn everything else off and just livein the now.” His eyes still staring to the heavens.

Sadie had been watching him, this is the first time she hadseen him fully relax, even while sleeping in camp he looked ready for anything,but here this body was completely relaxed.

She moved her shoulder to touch his, “What do you know aboutthe stars, Mr. Morgan?”

“Not much…just like the way they paint the sky…” his eyesclosed in the darkness as he spoke.

Sadie nudged his shoulder with hers, “Want to learn somethingabout the stars? Jake and I used to spend our nights learning about the starsin the winter. You could really see them all out there in the mountains.”

Arthur opened his eyes to glance over at Sadie, “Mrs. Adler,I ain’t sure I’ve got the smarts enough to learn about things not of this earth.”

Sadie rolled her eyes, “You ain’t foolin’ me with that dumbact.” Her fist punching into his arm, he chuckled lightly, “Ain’t no act m’fraid.”

They sit in silence for a couple minute, both looking up at thestars that flooded the sky. Sadie shivers in the wet grass, wishing she hadpulled the blanket off Bob. She felt an arm hook around her as he pulled hercloser, “You were gonna teach me something about stars?

Arthur’s heart was in his throat, what was he doing? He hadno right to be alone with Mrs. Adler, laying in a field watching the stars. Shewas a married woman, this was completely inappropriate! But he had known thatlook, the feeling of crushing loneliness, that no one else seemed to understand.If he could help her even with that, being someone who had been there thatwould be something. Sadie pushed closer to his body craving the warmth, herhead resting against his chest.

Sadie knew that she was putting herself in an inappropriateposition, but he was so warm, and kind, she knew he wasn’t going to tryanything. She hated herself for those feelings, the heat rose behind her eyesand her chest tightened. Jake had been dead for less than a year, and she wasalready in another man’s arms, out looking at the stars alone. She pushed thethought from her head. He probably just felt sorry for her, he knew whathappened, he had been there, he saw her…knew what kind of men the O’Driscollswere. She reminded herself why they came out here, to lose themselves and forgetthe pain of now. To appreciate just how small they were in this world. Thoughshe knew that pain would always be there, deep down. But for now, she could sharesome of what she and Jake had with another, and that was something.

“Can you at least name that one?” Sadie’s arm directing Arthur’sattention to the sky, her finger pointing to Polaris.

“Course I do, that’s the North Star.” his tone incredulous. “Everyoneknows that…” his hand tracing along the handle of the little dipper constellation,“…that there is the little dipper. The big one’s around here somewhere.” His eyesscanning the sky as he tried to remember what Hosea had told him all thoseyears ago about these stars. “There! They kinda look like circling fish, huntedby a bear…” the second part of the sentence said more out of repetition ratherthan knowing Ursa Major.

Sadie watched him, he looked genuinely proud of himself, shecouldn’t help the smile on her face. “The Big Dipper is part of the Ursa Major,what a clever way to remember…” her finger guided along the rest of the Bear inthe sky. “Ursa is Latin for bear…”

Her voice was quiet, “Jake knew all the Latin wordsmeanings, he was the bookworm…” she felt his eyes on her, the heat bubblingbehind her eyes she kept her gaze on the stars.

“I know it ain’t my place to say anything, but I think Jake’dbe proud of how strong a woman you are.” His eyes sad, he tried to find thewords she needed to hear, “You’re the strongest among us, Mrs. Adler.” The burnoverwhelmed her vision and she blinked away the tears, turning her head to lookat Arthur.

“What good is that strength if you have to lose everythingto gain it?” her eyes rimmed with tears, searching his for an answer and seeingonly the same familiar pain.

Arthur sighed, hooking her tighter into his side, his handrubbed her arm sympathetically. “I guess its so you can use that strength tosave others from havin’ to lose what you lost.” He turned his gaze back to thestars.

His words hung in the air, he felt her body shake againsthim, the silent sobs rocking her, his gaze continued exploring the sky. He knewwhere she was, to feel completely broken, not knowing how to pick up thepieces. The silence stretched on, he knew his presence was enough, slowly theshaking stopped, her breathing slowly returning to normal. They stayed thereuntil the sun began to crest of the horizon, Arthur blinked the sleep from hiseyes, stretching out on the ground, his body stiff from the cold, Sadie stirredat his side, curling closer into his side.

“We should probably head back, don’t want folks talkin’.” Hepulled himself into a sit as Sadie curled even tighter in on herself againstthe cool morning air. Sadie stood up, stretching she whistled for Bob. Arthurclicked for his horse, swinging his leg up over the mare’s back.

“Arthur?” her voice still raspy with sleep, “Thank you.” Hereyes meeting his, so he knew there was no mistaking her meaning.  He nodded slightly a smile pulled at thecorner of his mouth. The remainder of their return was spent in comfortablesilence, pulling off the road and into the trees outside camp.

“You know,” Sadie turned to Arthur, her smile teasing, “Ithink I’d like to get back into stargazing.”

[foolsdiamond]

Big Ol’ McCree Get Together

Big Ol’ McCree Get Together - Ao3

Summary: Hanzo accompanies his fiancé Jesse to his family reunion. Cute domestic fluff as Hanzo meets with his new family and starts his own with Jesse.

_______________________________

The air in the barn was hot and humid.  The reek of moldy hay and dirty animals stuck in the air like a dense fog, dulled only by the warm cider and jack-o-lanterns.  The cows mourned the warmth and safety of their barn as they bemoaned their misery outside the doors. The whole barn was massive; it had a fully fleshed out second story, for visitors or travelers to stay and for Jesse when he finally found the road back home.

This time, when the McCrees got together, it’d been a good two or three years since the eldest son Jesse had made his way on time.  He scarcely showed himself anymore, and he liked it that way; while he loved his family with all his heart, they just didn’t agree on a few too many issues for him.

McCree leans on the sturdy oak table laden with three-days labor of food and feast, his hand linked tightly with the strong, calloused digits of his wealthy companion.  Jesse tosses a gentle look at Hanzo Shimada, whose nose is crinkled at the intense smell and sea of people.

“You look like you took up Keith’s offers for a cow pie,” Jesse suggested.  Hanzo turned his attention to his partner, trying to relax his face.

“I’ve never experienced this many stenches simultaneously, even after the grueling boatride,” Shimada responded.  They both tightened their grip on the other’s hand.

“I reckon you know more words than I do.  At least, you put ‘em far more eloquently, more than I ever will.”

Hanzo smiles warmly and tugs on Jesse’s arm gently; he leans in to receive the gentle whisper.  “Your words are beautiful, as they are yours.”

In a heartbeat, the calm between the pair gets interrupted.  A young boy runs from beneath the table, forcing himself between Hanzo’s legs, and gets followed by a tiny little girl.  Shimada catches himself easily, but the eldest McCree kid peels away to chase after his little relatives.

“Mario, you can’t just attack a guest like that!  Olivia, you keep fightin’ like that and you’re gonna have to face me one of these days.”  The two kids squeal gleefully as they get caught, scooped up by the grisled cowboy’s strong arms, and relax comfortably in his familiar grip.  

“It’s Paul, Jess!  He goes by Paul now.” Olivia chimed, pointing at Paul accusingly.

“ Sí, Jesse.   Me llamo Paul ahora. ”

“Don’tchya mean ¿te llamas Paulo? ” Jesse piped in, but his littlest brother shook his head.  “Alright. Paul or no Paul, I’ve got some fight left in these muscles if you keep harassin’ yer little cousin.  Same goes to you, Olive.”

The two whined, reluctantly agreed to not engage a 23-year-old man, and wandered off to harass Gran’mama.  Hanzo rested his hand on Jesse’s shoulder to silently catch the other’s attention, who leaned up into the touch as he straightened his back.

“You have a large family, Jesse.”

“Aw, it’s pretty small for how long we’ve owned this plot of land.  Some people got enough cousins and siblings to populate a whole town to themselves.  Half of us can’t even make it to the yearly gathering anymore,” McCree responded most humbly.  He gently slides Shimada’s hand down until their fingers lace together once more, squeezing confidently.  The shorter man offers up a happy smile from the gesture.

“Why has your family dispersed so drastically?” he asked.

Jesse paused, glancing around.  Of course, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s paying much attention, but he can feel burning stares from his mother’s favorite chair.  McCree decides to tug Hanzo to the door and out into the cool night air. His boyfriend is easily led away from the dizzying smell and overwhelming population in the barn.

“Jesse?” he offered, once they were far enough that only the moonlight illuminated their faces.

Jesse stared hard at his lover.  It was still so foreign to say… his lover , his partner, his boyfriend and fiancé.  He stared at Hanzo Shimada, whose warm charcoal eyes offered nothing but concern and support; whose muscular arms opened up for an embrace, a hug tight enough to squeeze out all the tension in his bones.  He let himself melt into his boyfriend, let the anxiety eating at his appetite dissolve into the solid mesa beneath their feet, and let the unease in his gut untwist. The two breathed synchronously for what felt like a fleeting hour.

“Is it because you’re gay?”

“I wish it were that easy, Han.  I wish I could just say my family hates me for havin’ a taste in men, but I’m not gay.  I like boys an’ girls. They hate me for not pickin’ sides,” Jesse started, his tone solidifying by the end of it.

“There’s more to it, clearly,” Shimada offered.

“It’s hard to talk about with you,” Jesse finally pleaded after a long pause.  He’s certain he’ll get the brunt of Hanzo’s offense now, taken aback by his boyfriend’s lack of trust, uncertain whether he can handle a relationship with such  a big secret--

“Then tell me why it is difficult.  So that I may ease whatever anxiety it is that prevents me from helping you.”

“Hanzo,” McCree starts, pulling away from the warm hug to cup both of Shimada’s hands with his.  He savors the warmth of the foreigner’s palm on his. “The problem is you’re gay.”

Now he looks offended.  Well, mostly confused, a little hurt, a little stupified.  Jesse squeezes Hanzo’s hand tightly, then drops the grip altogether.  His sweaty palm slips from Shimada’s, and he uses his real hand to unbutton his shirt.

McCree peels off his clothes, layer by constricting layer, and the look on Hanzo’s face fades to total understanding.  He rests his hand on Jesse’s chest as the cowboy is about to peel off his tank-top. He ignores it, removing the garment anyway and breathing deeply, now that his lungs have a little space.  Shimada leaves his palm resting onto McCree’s bare tit, chest swelling with a few deep breaths.

Hanzo slides his hand up to McCree’s shoulder, the other on his hip, then falls forward and squeezes the cowboy tightly.  The last of Jesse’s anxiety fades with that hug, and he squeezes his boyfriend back just as tight.

“I do not understand,” Shimada said quietly.

“Well,” Jesse starts, leaning his face into Hanzo’s shoulder and breathing, catching his thoughts.  His lover leaves him with complete silence and all the time in the world. “Let’s just say, I wasn’t born as a man.  But I am one, now. My Paw taught me to shoot, and my Maw taught me to cook; I started wearin’ pants when I was 12 ‘cause I kept tearing up my dresses in the brush.

“I found me a gang by the time I turned 15.  They were rowdy and wild and hungry, but they believed me a boy, and they trusted my aim like I trusted theirs.  Wasn’t until I got caught by the sheriff at 19 that I finally got my way out.”

“But,” Hanzo trailed off.

“Well, a few things happened to split the family.  Part of ‘em supported my decision, part of ‘em didn’t.  Most of my aunts an’ uncles moved out to the nearest city, my Paw’s remainin’ family refused his decision to accept havin’ a gay son, a few of ‘em have died through various means.  Maw’s takin’ care of my four siblings, along with three of my youngest cousins.”

“So it is not entirely your fault, at least.  You made it seem like your decision--” Shimada began.

“It wasn’t really a decision,” McCree interjected.

“Your… gender?” he offered, met without objection.  “You made it seem as though your gender were the sole reason causing your family reunions to dwindle down to tiny gatherings.”

“I guess that’s how it always felt.  Maw definitely don’t like her eldest kid decided to run off with a gang of rough boys and abandon her with all the young’uns,” Jesse said.

Hanzo finally released the tight hug and Jesse forced himself to relax, the duo staring at the dying light of the barn.  Seems tonight’s feast is finally getting cleaned up, and they’ll have to wander back before they lose their only guide to shelter.

“I don’t think they hate you as much as you feel, Jesse.  You have a large, supportive family, who thrive off of their love for each other.  I think they miss you,” Hanzo finally said as his arm slid around McCree’s waist. The cowboy bent down silently, retrieving his shirts and slowly sliding into his constricting undershirt.  A gentle squeeze from his boyfriend stops him with his arms and head still stuck inside. Jesse grunts in confusion.

“We are about to sleep, yes?  Alone?” Shimada asked.

“Mhm.  My room’s been moved to the upper floor of the barn, so we most likely won’t get disturbed.  Bright side of never comin’ home on a predictable schedule, I reckon,” McCree chuckled. He slithers back out of his undershirt and decides to just button up his outermost shirt, up to the throat, and folds the rest of his clothing over his arm.  He holds out his wooden hand for Hanzo, who delicately wraps both of his around McCree’s with an amused grin.

The only one who hasn’t cleared out of the barn by the time Jesse and his partner return is his eldest cousin, herding the cows back in for the night.  McCree decides to leave his clothes with Shimada and help him out.

“They left you all alone, Marshall?” Jesse grinned.

“I reckon it’s the credentials.  Now that I’m Sheriff Marshall, they figure I can handle herding twenty cows into a lil ol’ barn,” his cousin laughed.

Hanzo stayed back, somewhat obscured by the midnight shadows, watching the two work.  Marshall has a curled mustache and a smooth jawline, but he could be taken for his cousin’s double if they tried.  

After the last cow finally wandered into the barn, Marshall rested a hand on the doorframe and extended the other to Jesse.  He paused, offering up the wrong hand for the shake, but his only good hand; looking a little embarrassed, the older McCree switched hands to shake proper.  

“You oughta find time to visit more, Jesse.  You and I never get to talk and catch up,” the sheriff said.

“That’s a mighty difficult request.  It ain’t just that I’m not available to come home, y’know,” Jesse responded.

“Believe me, I know.  I think you’re only hurtin’ yourself by stayin’ away, though.  Y’oughta at least write letters--hell, drop them by the Sheriff’s office and I’ll deliver them myself, faster than any postman could ride!”

The two laughed a good spell before finally pulling away.  Marshall McCree turned to the house; Jesse quickly got to Hanzo and threw an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders.  He dragged Shimada closer to Marshall, waving his free hand around.

“Hey, Marshall!  You met Hanzo yet?” Jesse hollered; his cousin stopped and whirled on his heels with a grin.  

“Can’t say y’ever introduced me.  Who is this dapper oriental?” he asked, grabbing Hanzo’s tattooed arm to examine it.

Shimada paused, tense, before tugging his arm out of the sheriff’s prying grip.  He tucks his arm behind his back casually.

“My name is Hanzo Shimada.  I am Japanese ; I traveled here with my brother after we left our family,” he said.  Marshall, thankfully, looks embarrassed to have offended his cousin’s friend, and tucks his thumbs into his belt loops.

“Mighty fine to meet you, Mr. Shimada.  How’d you meet Jesse here?”

“Han and I met out in Cal,” Jesse started excitedly.  Hanzo leaned into his partner, who relaxed and cleared his throat.  “Continue.”

“My brother Genji and I were new to the country.  We passed through Angel Isle legally, happy to have each other.  When times grew harder, McCree rescued the two of us, allowing us to travel and stay with him.  Once we were established, Jesse and I continued to talk while my brother began to wander for work.  We’re engaged now, and have been wandering together for three years.”

“Three years, y’say?” Marshall asked, looking bewildered.  “I swear I seen Jesse single since then.”

“Well, we used to both have horses, ‘til I sold my girl to buy an engagement ring.  We didn’t always go everywhere together,” Jesse piped in.  

The sheriff stares intently at Hanzo, now that he has a better idea of who this foreigner is.  He seems satisfied with the introduction and pats his shoulder good and firm, with a light chuckle.  Hanzo smiled, genuinely, and shook his hand again.

“G’night, boys.  Catchya at the breakfast table,” Marshall waved and wandered into the farmhouse.

Jesse and Hanzo migrate to the top floor of the barn, to McCree’s space.  He has a full size bed with a hand made wooden frame, a dresser with a change of clothes, and a trunk with personal belongings he doesn’t bring with him.  The foreigner politely sits on the bed and watches his fiancé undress completely; after an expectant stare from the cowboy, he mimics the gesture.

The two sit down on the first actual bed they’ve shared in a few months, leaning on each other and breathing the night air seeping through cracks in the wooden walls.  A full moon peering through the window provides just enough light, the two cowboys gazing into each other’s loving eyes. In full silence, the two gradually shift, sliding beneath the blanket and pressing warm skin to warm skin.  A hard jaw rests in the crook of the other’s muscular neck, with calloused, dirty hands stroking lovingly over tender pectorals. McCree pulls the blanket tightly to his chin, and Shimada pokes his nose over the edge to breathe. Legs tangle and feet tickle curiously.

The pair don’t even realize they fell asleep until warm dawn rays kiss the pillow.  Jesse groans, trying to roll over and nearly throwing Hanzo out of bed--which of course stirs him awake as well as he clings on to stay in the warmth.  McCree pauses, clutching his lover tightly and breathing in the sweet smell of his hair. He plants a kiss on Shimada’s forehead, and he reciprocates by pecking around the younger man’s beard.  

A fresh change of clothes for both of them is sorely appreciated.  While McCree slides into his new clothes happily, his partner struggles; his pants are just a little too big, his socks fall down, his shirt hangs loosely off of his broad shoulders.  Shimada tucks his overshirt in and snaps on a vest to hold it in place, tightens his belt, and tucks his pants into his boots.

“How do I look?” Hanzo asked curiously.

Jesse chuckles, leaning in for a smooch while he straightens his partner’s vest.  “Lovely, ducky.”

Shimada grins into the kiss, absentmindedly sliding his hands into the back pockets on McCree’s itchy wool pants and squeezing. The younger man chuckles happily and wriggles out of his lover's grip to start packing up.

“We oughta get our gear washed while we're here. And take a bath down in the creek, too,” Jesse said, grinning.

Hanzo beams back, soaking up the atmosphere. “Breakfast first?” he asked coyly, receiving a playful smack on his shoulder.

“You ain't never had a breakfast til you've had my Maw n’ Gran’mama’s. Sausage and bacon and eggs and pancakes stacked higher than New York and biscuits so fluffy you can sleep on 'em and gravy so thick y’could brush your teeth with it and fresh picked cinnamon apples and if we're real special, she’ll squeeze oranges straight from Florida, and baked peaches…”

Hanzo nods along as Jesse describes everything he loves to eat for breakfast while they walk down from the barn to the farm house. They've got more people packed at the table than they do plates. Fourteen people spaced out from age 2 to age 69 and from the Yucatan to Michigan to Japan all crammed into the large kitchen. Jesse sits on a bar stool at the kitchen counter with Hanzo balancing on his lap, with Marshall standing by them and tiny little Guadalupe sitting on the counter. They all hold hands, linking a single chain around the whole room.  The cowboy breathes in the warm scent of his lover's hair while Gran’mama’s calm, creaking voice says grace.

“Dear lord above, we thank you. You provide us with food with which we fill this table, with family with which to fill these chairs, and with love with which to fill this air. Dear lord, we thank you for this meal, and for bringing our family together. We thank you for returning Marshall home safely, and for helping Jesse find his way back. Thank you Lord.”

A gentle hum of amen echos as Gran'mama McCree wipes her cheek. A heavy silence is immediately interrupted by the little kids digging in.  The whole family wordlessly follows, clinking dishes and sipping drinks. They only made pancakes and bacon, but the McCree women made enough to feed their army.

Hanzo and Jesse take turns offering each other bites of flapjack, kissing fingertips and giggling. Marshall chuckles, watching one of the Alex twins wipe Guadalupe's face for the tenth time.

“You two look just like your parents,” the sheriff finally chimed in. Both Jesse and his partner turn to look, and sure enough, they're feeding each other blueberries and sharing a glass.

“You know, Jesse. I have not had a formal introduction to your family. Only those who asked last evening.” Shimada twists on his lover's lap to stare expectantly. Marshall playfully mimics him to the side; it takes the 2-year-old smearing his milk-soaked sticky pancake concoction onto his eldest cousin's pristine mustache to make Jesse’s poker face crack.

“Alright, alright!  Hop up,” he finally says, playfully pushing Hanzo off.  Of course he catches himself ( gracefully, too ), then stands on the footholds to hover over the heads of the whole McCree family.  Jesse picks up his glass of hand-squeezed orange juice and rings it with the handle of a clean spoon.  Everyone looks up, and Alexander--one of the twins--reaches up to refill his cup. He stares, allowing it, and takes a sip.

“Everyone, I have done a dreadful sin by not formally introducin’ y’all to the newest member of the McCree family.  Say howdy to Hanzo Shimada, my fiancé!” Jesse said; he set his glass down and put his arm around said boyfriend’s waist.  He starts pointing out faces, one by one.

“That there is Gran’mama McCree, the oldest known McCree and the hardest bitch to live out in these plains.”

“I am Marisela Martinez,” she said, bowing her head humbly.  “This is my daughter Esmeralda, and her husband Elijah Keith.”

“My parents,” Jesse pipes in .

The heads of household bow politely, then start pointing out their kids.

“Austin is our big man around the house,” Mrs. McCree says while squeezing his cheek. He flushes hotly, and dad slaps his back.

“Aussie’s en route to take ahold the farm once I can't work no more.”

“My lil Bluejay, Jane.”

“And Elijah Keith, Jr.”

“Keith,” Esmeralda corrected lovingly. “And my little Paul.”

The main family sitting at the table turn to Marshall to introduce the cousins. He takes a second to notice, and quickly scoops up the tiny tot off the counter.

“This lil tyke is Guadalupe. My nephew; sister died in labor, a real tragedy. Especially after the pregnancy was forced on her. We're all takin’ turns watching him,” the sheriff starts. “I saw you fightin’ Olivia last night. She's my girl, my pride an’ joy. A real fighter, gonna be one hell of a shot when she joins the rangers. My aunt and uncle--your parents--are helping look after her while my wife travels to New York for a doctor's degree.” Olivia beams at her praise, rolling on her feet and grinning at her proud, loving father.

“And meet the quiet tag team. Alex and Alex.”

“I am Alexander, I respond to Alex and Xander,” the apparent boy out of the identical pair says, turning to his sister when he's done.

“I'm Alexandra, or Alexis. Sometimes Sandra or Sandy. Al… Aly… But I like Alex the most,” she said.

“And me. Sheriff Marshall McCree, who you are quite acquainted with.”

Hanzo stands silently, taking in all the faces and names and absorbing his new family eagerly. Jesse wonders if he feels lonely, not having Genji with him. His only place in this cluttered mix of settlers and farmhands is his boyfriend; McCree stares at his lover with all the compassion and support a man can portray with a look alone. Shimada smiles cutely and bows his head, hopping off the stool and into Jesse's strong arms.

Breakfast dissolves into a mess of conversation and oversharing, eating scraps and cleaning dishes as a family. The kids wander off to explore the farm house, eager to get started on their pre-chore play break. During the shuffling and storytelling, Hanzo ends up carrying Guadalupe, holding the child to his chest tenderly. Jesse weaves through his parents’ conversation to his partner, resting a hand onto the man's shoulder.

Shimada silently peels away at the familiar gesture, and the two stand alone in the family room with the little toddler sleeping peacefully, for the time being.

“He is so small,” Hanzo said quietly.

“Well he's a baby, Han. Whaddayou expect?” Jesse responded.

“We can't have kids…” Shimada whispered.

Jesse curled his lip and took Guadalupe from his boyfriend, clutching him to his chest tenderly.  “I ain’t broke, y’know.”

“I,”  Hanzo started, paused, and stared.  “I would never ask that of you.”

There’s a long silence.  McCree savors his fiancé’s expression softening as he leans in for a kiss.  Inevitably, Guadalupe gets woken and upset, so Jesse sets him down on the floor in the hopes that a little running around will help.  He just sits down and starts crying louder.

Hanzo picks up the toddler again, cooing quietly and swaying.  Jesse almost looks mystified as he watches; for a minute, he even regrets running out on the family before he could help his Maw with his little siblings.  

“Where’d you learn that?” he asked dumbly.

Hanzo stares at him contemplatively.  “Instinct.”

“You’d make a mighty fine father, Hanzo.”

His lover beams, and Jesse feels his heart lift.   They tuck Guadalupe down for a nap and decide it’s high time they get a bath, since the morning cleanup is finishing in the kitchen.  McCree leads Shimada down to the creek, alone and isolated from any prying eyes, with the promise of Maw to not allow any of the young'uns to come down until they’re finished.

Jesse enjoys getting to watch Hanzo slip out of his clothes again.  He gets caught up and forgets to undress himself, so he eagerly holds his arms out when Shimada moves to do it for him.  The two both gawk at each other, getting to take in and examine each other’s muscles and hips and legs and body uncovered for the first time.  McCree puts his hand onto his lover’s chest stupidly, and he chuckles, his whole rib cage swelling up into his touch with every breath.

The cowboy flashes a cheeky grin before he shoves his fiancé into the water.  Hanzo doesn’t go down alone; he stumbles and grabs Jesse’s wrist, pulling him in, too.  They hit the water with a hard splash and swim to a more shallow depth, until they can get a good footing in the mud.

McCree abandons the creek entirely, dripping wet and slowly returning to their clothes.

“I do not believe the bath is finished,” Hanzo shouted, remaining still.

Jesse grins and tosses a rock at him.  He dunks under the water to avoid it and springs back up; McCree jumps into the river immediately, shouting, and retrieves the object.  

“I thought you’d appreciate the soap, c’mon,” he whined.

“Perhaps you should offer it to me in a manner that does not trigger my fight or flight response,” he said cooly.

Jesse sighed heavily and leaned his forehead on Hanzo’s shoulder.  The two held the position until McCree felt a tickle. He curled away from the touch, shrieking joyously as Shimada follows up.  He tries to avoid it by dunking completely under the water, but those searching hands follow him.

He’d apparently released the soap when he went up to the surface to wipe off his eyes.  Hanzo’s ticklish touches suddenly feel much more firm, rubbing the fat bar on Jesse’s skin soothingly.  He freezes, then shifts as needed to make it more comfortable on his lover.

Hanzo rubs the cowboy down completely.  Even going under water to get his legs and feet, then pops up gasping for air  with his hair glued to his face and neck. It’s really, really nice.

“Are you done yet, ducky?” Jesse asked cooly.  Shimada grins, chucking the soap at him with the same strength as he’d received it.  That’s probably going to bruise.

McCree chuckles fondly as he slides behind his lover to reciprocate the relaxing wash.  He feels Hanzo’s tight muscles loosen beneath his massaging hands, watching the dirt and grime peel away with the licking waves.  The two wind up spending the better part of the whole morning enjoying each other.

They pull away from the creek and dry each other off with Jesse’s shirt, then lay back on the dusty rock, prone and alone, while the sun warms their skin.  

“Jesse?” Hanzo starts, turning his head to look at his partner.

“Mmm?” Jesse murmurs, turning back.  He blinks when he receives a kiss. A happy silence returns as the cowboy rolls on top of his partner, to return the surprise.  They allow their hands to traverse sun-baked skin calmly. Then, slowly, McCree forces himself to his feet and tugs Hanzo up with him.

They get dressed again and return back to the house on clouds, hand-in-hand.  They miss lunch, but don’t care enough to get in a twist about it.

Jesse peels away to help Marshall and his Paw out with the animals, while Hanzo helps inside with the little ones.  The cowboy spends the afternoon out in the hot sun, sweating away and dirtying up all that cleaning he wasted the morning on.  He and the boys wander back inside, laughing and patting each other’s backs. Dinner’s already set up--chicken and cornbread and greenbeans--and everyone’s getting seated just like breakfast.  

Hanzo is sitting on the same stool as this morning, with Guadalupe sitting on his lap.  Jesse stays in the doorway, watching mystified. It takes one of the twins tugging on him to actually coax the McCree over to his fiance.  Shimada looks up with a blissful smile as Jesse takes his seat. Maw says grace, and the family digs in again.

“You’ve takin’ quite the shinin’ to Guadalupe, haven’t you?” Jesse asked, leaning his elbow on the table so he can prop his chin up.  The toddler attempts to get a green bean stuck in the cowboy’s beard, but Hanzo peels it off and feeds it to him instead.

“Do you wish to settle down, Jesse?” he asks calmly, foolishly diverting his attention from the nibbling child to McCree.

“Like, pack up the wanderin’ and make ourselves a farm, settle down?” he said.

“Yes.  I intended to save the suggestion for when we are older, or perhaps more experienced in our marriage.  Settling permanently was always my end goal for America. The horseback have been an excellent adventure, but I still want a permanent residence someday.”  Hanzo’s eyes are soft. Anxiety pangs hard in Jesse’s stomach as he wonders just how long his partner has kept this question wrapped up, waiting for the right moment to say it.  Shimada’s staring eventually pulled his husband out of his trance.

“I can’t say whether or not I’m ready to settle down, not after so many years roamin’.  I can’t guarantee I’ll stay stuck if we ever do build us a farmhouse, either,” Jesse says carefully.  He definitely doesn’t want to come off as having an opinion on the matter. “Why are you askin’ all of a sudden?”

“Jesse McCree.  Next month, we are going to join families.  As much as I have loved my time in the McCree house, I believe you and I will need space in a new McCree-Shimada home to start our own family.”

“Family?” Jesse stares stupidly.

“Your mother and grandmother agreed,” Hanzo says.

“On?”

“When we have our own place, we may take exclusive custody and care of Guadalupe.”

Jesse freezes.  He just went from daydreaming about his gorgeous boyfriend to a soon-to-be married, home-owning father.  He takes a while to process the extent of the information, blanking out pretty thoroughly. Shimada waits patiently.  Most people are putting their plates up to the wash.

“I reckon I could handle parkin’ my ass down somewhere if that’s the case.”

[edwardfuckasshands]

Night Out

Pairing: Underswap!Papyrus/Mettaton (Papyton) Summary: Napstaton drags their cousin out for a night at a club they regularly visit. They somehow get separated, and Mettabot finds comfort in a rather laid-back skeleton monster. Genre: Friendship, blooming romance, comfort, one shot. Notes: I wanted this to be a comic, but I can’t draw. It took me far too long for me to figure out I could just... write it instead.

“Can ya hear me, babe?”

Nightclubs weren’t really Mettabot’s cup of tea-- especially the ones with music capable of shaking the drink out of his hand. His pink jacket would either get caught on some monster’s clothing or tugged on, he’d get weird stares when his cousin strayed from his side, and the flashing lights and blaring noises made him feel overwhelmed fairly easily. His cousin clad in a blue puffer vest and backwards baseball cap of the same color made the experience more bearable, but they only helped so much.

Mettabot nodded his head, figuring any verbal response would be drowned out by the thumping music.

“All right, cool!” They flashed him a bright smile. “I’m gonna go on ahead and sign some stuff, a’ight? Those guys-” they gestured behind them towards a group of impatient-looking monsters and humans. They stood near the back of the club across from the bar, and from such a distance, they looked like props that’d been drowned in the heavy darkness and occasional colorful light. “-will probably eat me alive if I don’t give ‘em what they want.” They were joking, but Metta couldn’t help but take them somewhat seriously. “I don’t need you caught up in that, so jus’ chill over here, m’kay?”

Seeing as he didn’t really have a choice, he gave them a more confident nod and watch as they sauntered up to the overly-excited group of fans. It wasn’t long before another unrelated crowd on the dance floor blocked his vision of them, and although it was inevitable, he couldn’t help but feel lost without someone’s theoretical hand to hold.

Sighing quietly, Mettabot sat down on the nearest bar stool and asked for his drink to be refilled. Despite it being non-alcoholic, the sweetness took his mind off of everything. Even the shaking floor and terribly rude humans were nearly drowned in liquid sugar and cherries.

That is, until someone took a seat beside him.

Mettabot about leaped from his chair when he noticed someone next to him. He couldn’t be sure as to how long they’d been there since he just turned to face that direction. He prayed for him to go about his way, order a drink, check his phone, etc. Oh, but of course they had to meet eyes!

Or, in his case, eye sockets.

A tall, tired-looking, obviously thin skeleton wearing an orange hoodie and olive pants smiled at Mettabot and gave him a little wave. Not wanting to be rude, he did the same back, to which the other reached into his hoodie’s front pockets and produced a small pad of paper plus a pen. He scribbled something down and slide it across the table to the other, along with the pen.

“you OK?” It read in sloppy handwriting.

It really was too late for Metta to ignore the guy after that point, so he chose to play along for the time being. If something went wrong, he could always dart over to his cousin.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“ya look real shaky. like yer about ta fall over.”

Did he?

“I really am all right. Just not used to loud noises.”

“dude i feel u. ya want sum earplugs?”

“Do you really have some with you? Why?”

“y not?”

Sure enough, the last message was sent over with a pair of orange earplugs. He had a feeling they’d never been used, seeing as skeletons don’t really have ears, but he remained hesitant on using anything given to him by a stranger-- with things going into him being most questionable.

“Thank you, but I said I’m fine.”

“i understand. i just noticed you looked a little overstimulated, you know? i get that way at these sorts of things too, but my bro LOVES yer cousin over there.”

So they were stuck in the same boat, essentially. Two monsters with energetic family members who drag them all over the place.

On a new sheet of paper, the skeleton sent another note over.

“i’m papyrus, btw. nice to meet you, napstaton’s cousin.”

“I’m Mettabot. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“i like the way you dot your i’s with little hearts”

Had he really been doing that the whole time? Judging by his writing, that’d be a definite ‘yes.’

Papyrus rested his chin on his hand while awaiting a response. Metta simply couldn’t bring himself to write anything else after having that pointed out. What was he, a babybot?

“I didn’t mean t’ make ya feel bad,” Papyrus somehow said over the loudness of the club in a soft, non-intrusive voice. “I just thought it was cute.”

“N-No, it’s fine.... I’m not used to all.... this..... so I’m a little on edge.”

Papyrus closed his sockets and nodded. “I get it. You don’t get out much either, huh?”

Metta shyly nodded his head.

“Yeah, me either. Staying inside is, like, way less stressful. I don’t gotta worry about smuggling any drinks with me, either.”

“Oh... you didn’t... bring your own drinks.... did you?”

“Nope.” From his pocket, he pulled out a bear-shaped bottle of honey. “S’not a drink. Condiments don’t count.”

He wanted to say something while Papyrus ‘drank’ his honey, although he wasn’t wrong.

Probably.

“In all seriousness, are you really okay? You must be sick of me saying and writing it out, but that’s not gonna stop me from repeating myself.”

“It’s okay... I told you I’m fine, though..... Just jumpy...”

“Babe!”

Speaking of being jumpy, a sudden voice almost made Metta’s ghost fly out of his body. Sure enough, such a confident tone could only come from his cousin, who looked a little rough around the edges, what with his hair being more messy than usual.

“Hey, you know those folks I was chatting with? They wanna meetcha!”

Oh no.

“C’mon, it’ll be great! They’re hella nice, I swear.”

“I, uh... well..... I.....”

“Buddy, we’re havin’ a nice conversation here.”

Napstabot’s cheerful smile nearly turned to a scowl when Papyrus piped up. However, they attempted to keep up appearances the best they could. Being in public, they couldn’t go off on someone so easily.

“Oh yeah?” They turned their attention to the skeleton. “You’re treating him real nice, right? Because I’d hate to hear about someone making him uncomfortable.”

“Sure.” He pocketed his honey. “We’re just talking about how us introverts need to stick together when our comfort person runs off.”

Oof. That had to hurt, but NTT wouldn’t let it show.

“You’re adults, aren’tcha? You don’t need someone constantly at your side to have a good time.”

“Well.... uh..... Blooky....” Mettabot pulled gently at their jacket. “I’m.... more comfortable over here with Papyrus..... Is it okay if I stay here instead?”

“Y... Yeah, of course!” They reached over to ruffle his hair. “Like I said, you’re an adult. Just do what makes you happy.”

“Thank you... Blooky...”

“No prob, man. I’ll be on stage if ya need me.”

“M-hm.”

With that, they ran off to tend to their responsibilities as a DJ while Metta was left with a racing mind and an empty glass.

“Hey, barkeep. Can I get, uhhh... refill for my friend here?”

Before he could protest, Metta’s empty glass problem vanished in a matter of seconds. Despite him feeling grateful and the like, he didn’t quite know how to react.

“Don’t look at me like that, bud. Can’t a guy buy someone a drink?”

“Of course you can... but..... I’m not sure how to pay you back.... Blook-- Napsta is paying for all my drinks.... I don’t have any cash on me.”

Papyrus scribbled something down on yet another fresh sheet of paper, and handed it to Mettabot without the pen. “Hows about you give me a call sometime? You don’t have to force yourself or anything, but I expect at least a text by next month.”

Metta nodded. He could probably handle a text every now and then to pay off his newfound debt. “No problem.... It’s the least I can do, I think.....”

“Glad to hear it. Now-” he stood up “-I need to grab my bro and head home. He gets kinda grumpy if he stays up too late.”

“Oh.... okay..... I’ll see you later, then...”

A wave and a wink later, Papyrus vanished within the crowd. Metta was worried someone might step on his untied shoelaces while walking, but he moved with a surprising amount of grace for someone so laid back.

Not even five minutes after Papyrus’ leave, Mettabot pulled out his phone and typed in a message for an unfamiliar number.

“Thank you. I hope we can talk again soon.”

[adolphuslongestaffe]

Defiant

Chapter 5: The Archer 

The archer stood glaring fiercely up at Jesse, apparently waiting for some kind of explanation. He was an athletically built young man, about five inches shorter than Jesse, with long, glossy black hair that fell over his face and shoulders where it had escaped its restraining tie. But it was his face that had stunned Jesse into silence. His face was perfect. Smooth, pale-olive skin, strong black brows, clear, bright, black eyes, large and almond shaped and shaded by long, sooty lashes. High, aristocratic cheekbones, and pouting, almost insolent lips set firmly above a finely cut chin and jaw.

“Holy fucking shit,” Jesse said aloud, not intending to.

“Holy fucking shit,” the young man repeated slowly in a heavy Japanese accent. “You are American, then. What are you doing in my house, aside from behaving foolishly? I almost killed you.”

“I—I came with Genji,” Jesse stammered, attempting to swallow in a dry throat. “I’m real sorry, but I didn’t know you was shootin’ your—” he broke off abruptly as the absurdity of the situation suddenly called him back to himself. His native pride flared up and his face grew hot with indignation. “Say, what in sam-hell are you doin’, anyhow? Shootin’ at folks with a bow and arrow like you’re Robin Hood or somethin’. Who uses a bow and arrow nowadays?”

The young man stared up at the tall American, his angry expression growing blacker.

“Of course you are one of Genji’s friends,” he said. “My brother has poor judgement in most things, not the least with whom he chooses to associate himself.”

“That’s heavy artillery to level at a fella you just met and almost killed,” Jesse said coolly. He cocked an eyebrow and flashed a rakish grin. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

For some reason, this appeared to have had a palliative, rather than provoking effect on the young man. That, or he’d simply remembered to restrain his temper.

“You are correct,” he said, his face smoothing into a more placid, though still haughty, expression. “I apologize for my discourtesy. Please be more careful in the future. Particularly when entering the training yard.”

“I think I better apologize too,” Jesse replied, gliding effortlessly into genteel charm. “I was wanderin’ around with my head all in the clouds on account of the place bein’ so beautiful and peaceful, and I didn’t see the targets and things. I didn’t mean no offense about the bow and arrow. I just never saw someone use ‘em before, is all.”

“You find our home beautiful?” the young man said, eyeing him doubtfully.

“I never seen anything half so beautiful in my life,” Jesse replied, gazing steadily into the black eyes.

The young man turned away quickly and appeared to be making some small adjustments to his bowstring. At that moment, Genji’s cheerful voice came echoing across the courtyard.

“Jesse, there you are! I see you have met my brother. Is he boring you to death already?”

“I am not boring,” the archer said, shooting his brother an icy glare. “I am responsible.”

He turned back to the interloping cowboy and bowed stiffly.

“I am Shimada Hanzo, elder son of Shimada Sojiro, Master of the Shimada Clan.”

“Howdy,” Jesse said, sticking out his hand. “My name’s Jesse McCree, only son of Evelyn Harper McCree and whoever my daddy was. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Hanzo reluctantly took the proffered hand in his and Jesse shook it heartily, more to irritate the arrogant princeling than to be especially polite. The young man gave another stiff bow and departed hastily the way he’d come.

“I apologize for my brother,” Genji said, before Hanzo was out of earshot. “But do not take it personally. He hates everyone.”

Jesse assented politely, but he wasn’t so sure Genji was exactly correct. He wouldn’t bet his last nickel on it, but he’d been almost certain he saw those lofty cheeks flush ever so slightly as the young man had turned away to look at his bow.

He followed Genji to a round, roofed structure in the garden that Genji called a tea house, but Jesse thought looked an awful lot like a gazebo. They sat on mats placed on the bamboo floor, and their meal was served to them by silent servants in black satin kimonos. Genji laughed to see Jesse’s obvious discomfort with being waited upon. He laughed at Jesse’s behavior quite a bit, but there was no hint of ridicule in it. It was obvious that he was delighted with this strange American and the novelty of his cowboy manners. Even if his laughter had been malicious, however, Jesse would not have noticed at that moment. All of his attention was absorbed in the food. He found his senses treated to a series of delicious and spectacular new delicacies, none of which he knew the names for and all of which he thoroughly enjoyed. As they ate, he described the incident with the arrow, to Genji’s boundless amusement.

When they were finished, the servants reappeared to clear away the dishes, and the two boys strolled in the garden. Genji began to inquire eagerly after the details of Jesse’s life. Jesse decided this was the time to breach the second layer of the cover story.

“Look, Genji,” he said gravely, stopping under the shade of a massive, gnarled cedar. “I haven’t been entirely on the up-and-up with you. You been so good and kind, takin’ me under your wing and havin’ me in your home, and it ain’t fair of me to hide things from you.”

The younger boy’s eyes grew wide with curiosity. “What is it, Jesse?”

“Ok, but promise you’ll hear me out before you say anything. Then if you want me to go away and leave you be, I’ll understand.”

“Ok,” the boy repeated, all eyes and ears.

“Well, I been travelin’ under the pretext that I’m takin’ a gap year before college, but the truth is…”

He hesitated for dramatic effect.

“…I’m runnin’ from the law. There, I said it. Now hear me out, you promised. I was orphaned when I was twelve and I had to survive somehow, so I lived pretty rough and tumble, and eventually I took up with a gang of train-robbers. I didn’t want that kinda life, but there wasn’t much choice for a kid like me. I had to do somethin’ or starve. Thing is, I got real good at it and I started to get infamous, like. Sheriffs and whatnot was gunnin’ for me by the time I was sixteen, and I knew I was fixin’ to end up dead or rotting away in jail for the rest of my days. All I wanted was a fair shake, you know? A chance to be someone different. So one night I stole the loot from the gang’s safe and I bolted. I wanted to get as far from Texas as the sun is from the moon, so I wound up here in Japan. I ain’t violent and I ain’t hurtin’ nobody. I’m just tryin’ to live my life as best I can without the Deadlocks and the sheriffs hangin’ over my head. I know I shoulda told you right away, and I hope you can forgive me for hidin’ it at first. But I didn’t mean no harm. I been mighty lonesome and you’re the first friend I’ve made since…well, in a powerful long while.”

Just as Jesse expected, the younger boy was elated with the romance and adventure of the tale. He assured Jesse that he wasn’t angry and swore he’d never tell anyone, then positively battered Jesse with questions regarding train robberies and motorcycles and living like a bandit in the vast Texas wastes. Jesse, who had in very fact lived the life he’d described, proved to be a bottomless source of information on the subject. Before an hour had passed, he’d explained how to board a slow-moving train, how to slow down a fast one without derailing it, how to position your men for an assault, how to control a crowd of panicked passengers, and even how to crack a time-locked safe.

If Genji had any doubts regarding his friend’s truthfulness at the beginning of the conversation, he had none at the end. He had found a real-life Jesse James. An outlaw by necessity turned hero, struggling to walk the treacherous path to redemption. He’d liked his new cowboy friend before, but he was over the moon now. He had never known anyone like Jesse, and he privately thought Jesse must be the most interesting person he’d ever met. He envied the independence and gritty self-sufficiency apparent in the young man. His own life had been one of walls and rules and lessons, and his father’s constant disappointment as he failed to perform as well as his brother at any and every endeavor.

Jesse couldn’t help the sinking feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach as he saw how much the boy had genuinely taken to him, all the while knowing that he still hadn’t been entirely honest. But his loyalty to the mission, the organization, and the commander who had rescued him from the very life he’d described to Genji overbore his guilt. He wouldn’t have betrayed the commander even under actual torture, and he wouldn’t now. His thoughts flew back to those long days and nights spent in the field together, depending upon each other for their survival. The talks they’d had about their lives and loves. And the secret he’d kept all this time. The thing that bound him even more closely to the man he idolized and adored.

Then the face of the superior young archer rose like a sun above the horizon of his mind and extinguished all other thoughts in its blazing corona. He felt at once that he would betray the mission, the commander, his very soul, if the owner of that face desired it. He was keenly alive and alert, agonizingly awake to a fresh, bleeding wound that gaped at the center of his being and threatened to consume him.

“Hey, Genj,” he said, already using an affectionately abbreviated name for his friend, who he genuinely liked immensely. “I don’t know if I feel so much like goin’ to a rowdy dance club tonight. Would you mind terribly if I begged off?”

The boy looked anxiously into his friend’s handsome face. “Are you unwell, Jesse?”

“No, no, nothin’ like that. Only I’m awful tired from traveling and all that mess and I think I’d rather be quiet tonight.”

“But you would still like to spend time with me, yes? If we chose a more quiet activity?”

“Oh, no,” Jesse said, then corrected, “I mean yes, I’d like that very much, but I don’t want to throw a wet blanket all over your fun just cause I’m out of sorts. You should go.”

“Nonsense,” the younger boy said, his usual cheerful grin returning. “I have been to many such dance clubs many times. I only go because I am bored at home and become restless. But if you are with me, I will not be bored or restless. We can do anything you like.”

After some waffling and indecision (entirely on Genji’s part), they decided upon taking a walk to the hot springs across the small town, and then getting supper at one of the excellent restaurants in the area. Before they departed, Jesse excused himself to the restroom to report in to the commander again. He fitted the mic around his throat and placed the earbud in his ear, then pressed the button to open a transmission. Reyes responded immediately.

“Jesse,” his tinny voice said through the earbud, “do you know where you are?”

“Well, yes, sir I do. I’m in a toilet inside Shimada castle.”

“And you are aware who your new friend is.”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“Boy, I don’t know if you’re doing something to make luck love you, or if you’re charmed or what. We’re in Japan less than 24 hours, and you’re already in the door of Shimada castle. This is better than the best I hoped for.”

“Thanks, boss, but it really was just dumb luck.”

“Well, keep it up, whatever it is. Let’s stay on this. See where it goes. Maybe we can work out a way to get their help, after all.”

“Understood, sir,” Jesse said. “And boss, we’re on our way to the hot spring and then dinner in town. Just so’s you can stay on top of us.”

“Got it,” the commander replied. “Check in again at 2300. Good work, mijo.”

“Thank you, boss.”

Jesse removed the radio accoutrement and rejoined his friend in his frankly enormous bedroom. Genji was sprawled out on his bed poking disgustedly at his telephone’s screen.

“I hope you are not displeased,” he said, “but my father insists that my brother accompany us. I will not allow him to be so unpleasant this time, though.”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind at all,” Jesse said, looking as though he minded very much. “No. Yeah. That’s just fine with me. More the merrier and all that. Y’all wouldn’t mind stopping by my hotel for a minute, though, would you? I gotta pick up my bathing suit and things.”

“Jesse, it is not permitted to wear a bathing suit in the hot spring,” Genji said, stifling a laugh at Jesse’s startled expression.

Jesse was in a situation now. He had never been afflicted with what anyone would call excessive modesty. His body was universally admirable, and he was not at all shy about nudity. But he found the idea of being seen in nothing but his skin by that particular young man, especially in a public hot tub, little brother in tow and god knows who else around into the bargain, to be a very distressing proposition. But going with the flow had worked out for him so far, so he screwed up his courage and followed the two brothers out the front gate, figuring he’d take the situation as it came.

As they exited the grounds, he saw that Genji’s friends from the arcade had accompanied them once again, and were walking together, a few paces to the rear.

“How big are those hot tubs, Genj?” he said. “Enough to fit all of us?”

The younger boy looked confused. “The three of us?” he asked.

Jesse indicated the group of young men behind them. “With your friends comin’ now, that makes eight of us.”

Genji laughed aloud and his older brother cleared up the misunderstanding.

“They are not our friends,” Hanzo said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “They are our bodyguards.”

“That a fact,” Jesse said. “What do you fellas need bodyguards for? I mean, you both look like you could handle yourselves in a scrap.”

“We can,” Genji said. “But our enemies would not attempt to kill us by engaging us in a fair fight. That would be foolishness.”

“I bet it would,” the cowboy said, eyeing the lithe, muscular arms of the archer who had nearly put an abrupt end to his life a few hours earlier. “But I don’t understand. Y’all have enemies that might try and kill you?”

“They will not make an attempt on us here,” Hanzo said. “You need not fear for your safety. It is merely a precaution that our father requires us to take.”

“Ah,” Jesse said. “Dad’s a little overprotective. I get you.”

This elicited no response from the taciturn archer, so Jesse disregarded him and talked with Genji as they made their way across the little town. The actual ordeal with the hot spring turned out to be far less trying than he’d anticipated. He lingered in the dressing room, and the brothers were already in the steaming water when he joined them, so he was able to drop his towel and slip discreetly into the tub without anyone taking notice. Genji kicked his feet and splashed about, chatting enthusiastically with Jesse about whatever popped into his head, and Hanzo rested against the far side of the tub with his eyes and mouth shut. Jesse’s awkwardness wore off rapidly, and the hot, mineral-rich water had a miraculous effect on his body. All the soreness and stiffness of intercontinental travel dissolved from his muscles and joints, and he left the soak refreshed and energized.

He was the first to be dressed, so he went outside and lit a cigarette. The older brother emerged next, and stood against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed and silent as a sphinx.

“Howdy,” Jesse said, exhaling a plume of white smoke into the air and tipping his hat to the stoic young man.

“Hello,” the sphinx in question replied.

“You know,” Jesse said, pushing back the brim of his hat, “howdy don’t mean hello. It’s short for how do you do. It’s a courteous question, and most folks bother themselves to give a courteous answer.”

The black eyes darted up to his face, as if the young man were preparing a sharp retort. But once again, the severe expression smoothed.

“I am well, Mr. McCree.”

“Just Jesse is fine.”

“I am well, Jesse. I trust you are also in good health.”

“Healthy as a mule,” Jesse said affably, taking the opening where he could get it. “Specially after that soak. I feel as fresh as a brand new day. Spry and limber and relaxed all over. I wish I’d known about hot springs before. I coulda been marinating the soreness all out of me for years.”

Did the ghost of a smile pass over the young archer’s face? Maybe not.

“They are quite useful,” he said curtly.

Jesse turned to face the young man. “Tell me somethin’, Han-so,” he said, emphasizing the second syllable. “Why do you dislike me so much? I know I offended you earlier and got things off on the wrong foot and all, but I’m tryin’ my best to be friendly. All’s I want is to have a pleasant conversation, and you’re all spikes and thorns.”

Had the ardent young cowboy known how to read the other man rightly, he would have thought twice before asking such a tactless question. But he did not. Not yet. He saw only the austere, unyielding façade, not comprehending that it had been erected to shield its helpless occupant, who was at that moment foundering in the depths of internal torment.

“My name,” the archer said icily, “is pronounced Hanzo.”

“Alright, Hanzo,” Jesse said, bruised by the dismissive parry of his advance. “Have it your way then. There ain’t no rule that says we’ve got to be friends.”

They waited in silence, the archer brooding and the cowboy smoking, till Genji finally appeared. Jesse observed a silent look of disapproval from the older brother, which was met by an acidic smile from the younger. He began to think maybe he had misjudged the relationship between these two strange siblings, and became more alert to what passed between them from that moment on.

Dinner was a long, lively affair, filled with Jesse’s stories and Genji’s merry, musical laughter. Even Hanzo forgot himself and smiled a few times. But Jesse noted that Genji had begun drinking sake before their food was served, and continued to drink throughout the meal. The fact was not remarkable in itself, since they all did so. What was remarkable was the quantity Genji consumed. Jesse, who’d been brought up to rotgut whiskey like it was mother’s milk, had several glasses of the gentle spirit, and was stone-cold sober. Hanzo didn’t even finish his first glass. But Genji finished several bottles, and by the end of the meal, he was absolutely drunk. As the younger brother grew more intoxicated, the older brother became more withdrawn and silent, till he ceased participating in the conversation entirely. This irritated Genji and he began to goad his brother.

“Look, Jesse,” he said, tugging on the sleeve of Jesse’s shirt. “My brother is so proper. Is he not?”

Jesse attempted to shift the topic. “Weren’t we talkin’ about—”

“He is angry with me,” Genji interrupted. “Because I am irresponsible and he is perfect. But he is jealous because I have a good time and girls like me.”

He was slurring his words together sloppily, and leaned on Jesse for support as he began to sway in his seat.

“No girls like him at all,” he said with a burst of drunken laughter. “Jesse, remember the girl at the hot spring? The one at the counter? Wasn’t she pretty?”

“I don’t know,” his friend said. “I guess in a kind of way, sure.”

“You did not like her?”

“She, uh, she ain’t exactly…my type,” Jesse said uneasily.

“Well, I liked her. And she liked me very much. She came into my dressing room after we—”

“Shimada Genji,” his brother said sternly. “That is enough.”

He didn’t raise his voice above an ordinary conversational pitch, but the effect was the same as if he had shouted. Genji gave a start and shut his mouth. There was a tense beat of silence, then Genji laughed and resumed his disjointed chatter, but he did not return to the topic of the girl at the hot spring. Genji wanted to remain and continue drinking, but Jesse coaxed him away at last with a promise to go and get his guitar and sing them some cowboy songs. He ran up to his room and grabbed it as they passed by his hotel on their way back, and he scribbled a note to the commander, explaining his whereabouts. Then he rejoined his party in the street, and assisted Hanzo in leading the stumbling boy homeward.

When they entered the common hall in the brothers’ shared quarters, Hanzo departed without a word, leaving Jesse to entertain his drunken friend on his own. The two went to Genji’s bedroom, where he produced cans of beer from a small refrigerator and laid on the floor, listening to Jesse play some old, folksy songs and country standards. When it became apparent that the boy had fallen asleep, Jesse lifted him into his bed, disposed of the empty cans, and packed up his guitar.

As he passed through the cavernous main hall, his steps were arrested by a strain of the sweetest, most heartbreaking music he’d ever heard. It was some kind of stringed instrument with which he was unfamiliar, and it was being played by someone there in the building. The melody led him down the darkened hallway across from Genji’s room to an open doorway, from which a light and the music emanated. He set his feet down gently, almost breathlessly, afraid lest he should make a sound to disturb the player, and that music would stop. Inside the room, he could see the older brother, kneeling on the floor with his back almost directly to the door. He was playing a long, flat wooden instrument, distantly related to the guitar, that lay before him on the floor. Jesse was spellbound. He stood rooted to the spot, straining to catch every note of the haunting, exotic melody. As the song ended, he cleared his throat softly, hoping not to startle the young man.

The young man turned his head and looked up at him expectantly.

“Pardon me, Hanzo, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Jesse said. “I just come to let you know Genji’s passed out and it’d probably be wise to have someone look in on him at some point tonight.”

“Thank you. I will inform the servants.”

“And I wanted to say, I…I hope you didn’t think I was laughin’ at your expense or nothin’ when we was at dinner. I don’t think Genji’s right to talk about you like he does, specially not in front of me who’s a stranger to y’all. But there ain’t no sense in arguin’ with a man when he’s in his liquor. Most times it just riles him up worse. So I apologize if I seemed like I was agreein’ with him.”

It had indeed seemed precisely that way to Hanzo. He was surprised to hear such a circumspect and considerate sentiment expressed by this coarse cowboy, who he had not taken to be particularly intelligent. He regarded the tall American with a not entirely hostile eye. Jesse took this for a favorable sign and advanced a step into the room. Hanzo stood abruptly.

“Say, if you don’t mind me askin’,” Jesse said, stopping where he stood and indicating toward the instrument, “what's that thing you’re fiddlin’ on?”

“This thing,” the archer said, “is a koto.”

“Well, it’s the prettiest music I ever heard. I play this old squawk box.” Jesse held up the guitar case. “But I ain’t anything like the musician you are.”

The black eyes gazed up at him in silence.

“I wonder,” Jesse went on, “if you wouldn’t mind too terribly, would you maybe want to show me a little how you play one of those? I could show you how to play guitar in return, so’s everything’s fair.”

“I am very tired, Mr. McCree,” Hanzo said.

Jesse went a bit red in the face, embarrassed by the rebuff of his impulsive request.

“Oh, of course,” he said, attempting to backtrack. “I didn’t mean to…some other time, maybe.”

“Some other time, maybe,” Hanzo repeated slowly. Then, to Jesse’s wide-eyed astonishment, he said, “Perhaps…tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Really? Yeah, absolutely,” the cowboy said eagerly. “Any time at all, you name it.”

“Noon?” the archer offered.

Jesse couldn’t quite believe this turn of events. He agreed to the time, said he’d be there with bells on, an idiom that confused his host entirely, then made his escape before the other young man could have a chance to change his mind.

[marichat-sins]

Valentine's Day

Summary: After a rough Valentine’s Day, who else would be there to comfort Lucy other than Natsu?

Pairing: Natsu/Lucy Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship

Word Count: 1,561

Also found on FF.net

Valentine’s Day. A day loved by many, and a day hated by others. Usually, Lucy would be a part of the ‘love group’ but not this year. No, this year her boyfriend of ten months broke up with her in a text message on the day she looked forward to each year.

So that would help explain why the blonde woman was currently sitting on her couch in her apartment with a tub of melting chocolate chip mint ice cream and watching Hallmark movies.

She was swaddled in an oversized hoodie she had “accidentally” taken from her best friend a few months back. With the hoodie, she wore a pair of old ratty sweatpants and had her golden hair in a very messy bun. She didn’t care in the slightest about how she looked at the moment.

Lucy glared as she watched the actors in the movie she was watching kiss after they confessed their love for each other. She bitterly stabbed her spoon into her ice cream in an attempt to stop herself from throwing said spoon at her TV screen. It’s been proven to be a harder task with every movie she watched. Why she was torturing herself like this? Who knows. Maybe it’s for the ice cream. At least, that’s what she tells herself. She pulled the red fabric of the hoodie’s sleeve that bared her old college logo over her hand as she wiped away the tear forming in her eye.

She refused to waste anymore of her precious tears on that fool. Erza’s words, not hers.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table going unnoticed until a familiar ringtone drowned out the noise coming from the TV. The song ‘Strike Back’ blared through her speakers loudly, Natsu’s name flashing on the screen next the picture she had set for his contact which was of him and her the day they went to the fair, two wide grins directed towards the camera with his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

She sighed slightly, knowing that it would be best to pick up the call instead of declining it like she with all of her other friends. It seems that she had taken to long to answer though, because as she was reaching for the cell, her phone went silent.

Mentally, she was relieved. As much as she would want to talk to Natsu she knew it would just end with him scouring the city for Dan so he could challenge him to a fist fight, and Lucy really did not want to be called down to the station again to post bail for her best friend. It was bad enough that Laxus had her set on speed dial!

And if Laxus had gotten wind of the situation from Natsu, he would’ve just joined in on the fight somehow managing to find a way to drag Gray and Gajeel into the matter as well. So all in all, it would just end up being a giant mess.

Instead of sitting around and moping for the rest of the day. Lucy decided that it was high time for her to get herself in bed after a nice long bath.

Once she had finished her relaxing bath, she changed into the fuzziest and warmest pajamas that she owned before tiredly crawling into her bed, ready to just sleep the rest of this horrible day away.

But of course, fate had a different idea.

Lucy cuddled into her covers, closing her eyes and was ready to fall asleep. But suddenly, her door was kicked open, followed by Lucy screaming bloody murder until she saw locks that were her favorite color. Pink, letting her immediately know who it was that had broken into her house. Again.

There, under the doorframe leading to her bedroom, stood her best friend with a wide grin. Natsu’s smile grew as he saw Lucy’s face. In his arms were his laptop, a box of her favorite chocolates, a bundle of red roses, and Happy. His poor cat was squashed between everything and held tightly to his owner’s chest, meowing in annoyance.

“Natsu? What are you doing here?” Lucy yawned as she pushed herself up. The oddly colored cat managed to writhe his way out of Natsu’s arms, dropping to the ground before skidding his way over to the blonde woman. Happy hopped onto her bed before immediately pushing his head into her chest, purring as he crawled his up to her shoulder.

“We’re havin’ a Netflix binge day and yer gonna like it.” Natsu declared, tossing her silver laptop that was decorated with a beautifully drawn dragon that was surrounded by flames onto her bed. She spent a little while admiring his artwork as she always did before eying the chocolates and roses. On the hand that was holding the flowers, was a mirage of blues and purples that covered his knuckles. Upon further inspection, Lucy noticed that his lower lip had an angry red gash running up it, disappearing at the curve of his lip.

“Did you get into a fight Natsu? Again?” This man that she called her best friend always got into fights, at least twice a week, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he did. But just because she should have gotten use to it by now after all these years, it didn’t mean that she had to like it.

When Natsu’s body went frigid, her question was confirmed as he began to shift in place and twirled the bundle of roses in his hand as some sort of distraction, keeping his olive eyes away from her brown ones. When Lucy sighed he glanced up at her, gazing at her through his surprisingly thick lashes as he gave her his best puppy dog look, his busted up lips curling into a pout knowing that it would sway her. It was after all her weak point.

“He deserved it Luce, he really did.” Lucy frowned at the tone of his voice. Typically after a fight with his opponent, all the malice that Natsu had felt towards them disappeared as he usually got his anger out with each fist thrown at them, so to hear him still sound so angry at the person was extremely rare. His puppy face morphed into a glare as he scowled at the ground.

“No one gets to do that to ya and gets away with it Luce, no one. So he had it coming. Plus,” Natsu added, looking up at her with a cheerful expression, “I’ve been wantin’ ta punch that bastard for months now! Now I finally had a reason!”

Lucy didn’t need to ask who it was he fought, she didn’t need to. Natsu always had a strong dislike for Dan, ever since she had introduced the brunette man as her boyfriend. Plus, he was the only one who had wronged her as of recently, so he was the only person that made sense. Lucy didn’t question it as Natsu laid the roses on her nightstand before crawling into the bed with her and Happy, setting the box of chocolates off to the side.

“Do… Do ya need a hug?” Lucy felt her face flush at the innocent question before nodding, wrapping her arms around his sculpted torso. She didn’t get hugs from Natsu often, even though she wished she did seeing as his hugs were the best. It was rare for him to even offer one, it was usually Lucy who stole hugs from him and they were always from the back when she needed him to comfort her. So why would she say no?

His arms circled her waist, bring her close to his chest as he held her tightly, feeling Happy squirm between them until he decided to rest on their laps. Lucy smiled, the first smile all day as she rested her head on his collar feeling his oddly high body heat surround her, warming her from head to toe. It was times like this, moments like this with Natsu that she wished would be frozen forever. But unfortunately that would never happen.

“Now,” Lucy said as she pulled away from him looking up at him with a smile. “I believed I was promised a Netflix binge day, which comes with cuddling, right?” Natsu barked out a laugh, startling the blue cat that was laying on their legs as he bent over to grab the laptop he had brought with him, letting Lucy type in his password as he settled back, Happy padding on his stomach until he curled up into a ball, his back pressing against Lucy’s abdomen. Lucy was lying on her side, head on Natsu’s chest as they pressed play.

It was then that Lucy realized that this was exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be curled up with Natsu, his arm secured tightly around her as they binged on The Office, cuddling and just being happy. She didn’t need Dan, and she didn’t need anyone else for that matter. All she needed was Natsu, and even if he wouldn’t be there for her as a boyfriend, having him there for her as a best friend was enough for her.

So that’s what she did. On the day of love, she laid with him, hearts beating in perfect harmony. Because she wouldn’t want to love anyone else.