#They wanna get a head start on attacking me before I can switch the engine on

[pushing500]

I did end up installing the Toddlers mod, and now we see the result! Baby Ro has become Toddler Ro!

The first thing he did with his newfound mobility was "bugwatch". I thought it was amusing that his bugwatching happened to be right where Frisbee the giant scorpion was walking, and I mean... Yeah, sure. A lot of people would consider her a bug. Entomophobic Zonovo does, at the very least.

Debby has decided to cause more drama with her polyamory trait, and Laurie has to pay for it. I wonder what will happen if Eva really does turn out to be a mime? That would definitely add drama to this story. Poor Brennan and Laurie, though.

We had an eventful raid with Eurros Pusmeberrus, a distant relative of Andrei and Andy's, coming to visit. We managed to capture her, but I don't know if we'll recruit her. She kind of sucks.

We also captured her friend, who was "unwaveringly loyal", but that was of little consequence as we had just finished building a subcore ripscanner. Doere was not a prisoner for very long.

Before Doere was ripscanned, Albina patched her up to avoid her bleeding out, and Henry tagged along to watch. I think the 'work watching' learning desire is my favourite one. Usually, it's cute to imagine a little kid trailing someone and bombarding them with questions about the jobs they're doing, but I'm not sure if it's quite as cute when it's watching someone operate on a prisoner.

Pacifist Vu started a social fight with Irwin, which resulted in her whole arm getting destroyed. Luckily Albina has the 'regrow limb' psycast, and hopefully, Vu will learn not to pick fights with people she has no hope of beating, no matter how empowered she feels wearing stolen liberated armour.

Then we got raided again by more people related to a colonist (and to prisoner Pusmeberrus, who in turn is related to Andrei and Andy). Fortunately, Hazrov is a crack shot and downed enough of them that the others turned tail and fled before they reached us. It made Wendy a bit sad, but I'm sure she'll get over it.

Finally, here's Andy being better at drawing dinosaurs than I could ever hope to be.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bent, not broken 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; violence; injury; blood; drugging, tags to be added throughout series.

This is a dark!fic and features the winter soldier and Captain Hydra x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: An attack leads to the uncovering of decades old secrets when you are taken by the deadliest assassin in the world

Note: Thank you all for your patience with this :) So happy to get part 2 out!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The man with the metal arm brought you a set of plain grey clothes. It was the type of shapeless linen given to patients in a long-term facility or inmates at a prison. When you struggled to lift your right shoulder over your head and winced as your ribs throbbed, he helped you get into the long-sleeved shirt, pulling the fabric down gruffly and backing away.

You shoved your feet into the rubber shoes, and held your arm across your middle, as you stood with shoulders curled forward pathetically. You hobbled to the door as he beckoned to you. You were reluctant to leave the room, fearful of a worse prison ahead. You didn’t have much choice in the matter; resistance was a ridiculous idea given your injuries. 

As it was, you were still too hazy with shock and pain to even think of doing anything other than what you were told. You only hoped that you would have a moment to lay down again. Standing up was torture, even just breathing, and those fleeting moments of sleep were your only relief.

The halls stretched on and on. The twists and turns seemed counterintuitive as he led you along and when you didn’t walk fast enough, he grabbed your arm and dragged you along. You limped and tripped several times but he hardly noticed as he kept his eyes forward.

He brought you out into the sombre grey evening and the gulp of cold air was like a slap in the face. You didn’t know how long it was since you last felt the outside, but it made you tear up. The subtle chill tickled your nose and sent a shiver up your neck. It didn’t feel real, not after the stifling stillness of that white room.

He ushered you over to the boxy black vehicle and opened the backdoor. He nudged you and pointed inside. You looked at him and then around at the barren dirt. You braced the side of the doorframe and grunted as you tried to climb up into the backseat. You gasped and dropped back onto the ground and touched your ribs.

He sniffed and you flinched as his hand came up under your ass and he pushed you up and into the car. You groaned and landed heavily across the seat and kept yourself from sliding onto the floor. You turned back just as he slammed the door.

You coughed and reclined against the seat. You watched him climb in the front, a clear barrier between the front and back of the vehicle. The engine turned and hummed as he played with the controls. A screen above the dash lit up and showed coordinates on a map as several switches lit up below.

The jeep began to move as he steered mechanically away from the building. You peeked back at the grey brick and stretched your legs out as you leaned on the door. You rocked with the motion of the wheels but each jolt made you whimper. You closed your eyes and quelled the panic bubbling in your stomach.

You knew it couldn’t be good. None of it was. Waking up in that closet, being locked up in that white room, and now, your unknown destination hardly meant a mysterious fate. The Captain’s leer returned to you and his ominous words. The way he ordered the masked man around like a dog worried you more.

When you next opened your eyes, just about to doze off, you heard a subtle buzz through the barrier. Next to the screen, a phone was propped up and the timer counted up the minutes in the call. You couldn’t read what you assumed was Russian Cyrillic and you couldn’t quite hear the words coming from the speaker.

You sighed and it caused a stab in your ribs. You closed your eyes again and opted to try to cling onto your fatigue. It wouldn’t matter if you could hear the conversation, likely one-sided as it was, or if you could figure out where that little blinking tag on the map was. None of it made a difference. You could be certain you would not escape those men.

★

Mountains rose with sun through the slits of your eyelids. You batted away the sleepiness and shifted as you looked around at the rocky landscape, the road ahead steep and winding as the tires gripped the dirt. The angle of your ascent made your stomach flip and you leaned into the corner more heavily.

When the terrain plateaued, the mist thick around you, you dared to move and craned to peer around at the obscured lands below. The man drove on along the trail, just wide enough for the wide military vehicle and steered into the open mouth of a cave hidden between tall rocks jutting out from the mountain face.

The darkness consumed all but the glowing screen and symbols in the front of the vehicle and when the tires crunched to a halt, you sat up cautiously. The lights all went out and the front door opened and closed. The door behind you swung open and the rigid metal grip pulled you out. 

Your feet hit the ground harshly and you stumbled against the man’s unwavering posture. The door shut and he sidled you ahead of him between the metal and stone. You couldn’t see in the suffocating blackness of the cave but he walked on without hesitation. His hold on your arm was the only guide you had.

He stopped as the air grew sharp and startlingly cold. Your teeth chattered and you heard the shift of rock against rock. A glowing blue oval appeared, as if floating, and he covered it with his thumb. A low rumble came from deep in the mountain and suddenly the slate before you shifted and a wall of light shone over you.

He shoved you through the door and followed, the metal door sliding closed as the rock wall on the other side clattered back into place. You looked up and down the hallway. The walls were constructed of metal sheets and the atmosphere was just as sterile as that before. Each door was thick and firmly shut, a keypad set into the wall by every frame.

The metal finger pointed you ahead of the masked man and you staggered down the long hall. He led you from behind, a right turn and then to the end. The only open door led to a peculiarly cozy room. The walls were made of rippled wood and lent the air of a cabin as the fireplace burned with artificial flames. There was a long sofa and two plaid armchairs, and the place was decorated like a real home.

Your eyes were drawn to the walnut bar in the corner where the lone figure stood. The Captain no longer sported his helmet or combat suit but wore a pale blue cable knit sweater. He smirked at you as he swirled the dark liquor in a round-bellied bottle and sniffed the neck.

“About time,” he said to the man behind you.

The masked man poked you and grabbed your elbow. He brought you to the bar and pulled a stool close to you. You couldn’t climb up on your own and so he lifted you and plunked you down. He perched on another as the Captain ordered him to.

“You look confused,” the Captain said coolly, “why wouldn’t you be? I can only assume the breadth of explanation offered by my companion.” He winked at the other man who only glared back above his black mask, “he doesn’t say much but you can call him Bucky, he might answer to it.”

He took a slender shot glass and filled it with the nearly black liquid. He turned it slowly and tilted his head as he eyed it. He put the bottle down and leaned an arm on the bar as he watched you.

“Soldat, maybe,” he offered, “he’s a good soldier. And you already know who I am, but sir will suffice.”

You frowned and glanced between him and the other man; Bucky, soldat, whatever he was. Steve chuckled and lifted the shot. He held it up until you looked at it and just as quickly, knocked it back and hissed as he slammed the glass back down.

“You see, me and him, we have different variants of the serum. Similar enough, one of the things we have in common being our tolerance for alcohol. But this…” he flicked the top of the bottle, “a couple shots and the edge starts to blur. If someone like you were to take just a sip, well, you’d be on your ass.”

You shook your head, not quite catching his point. He inhaled and poured another shot. He put it in front of the soldat.

“Loosen up, will ya?” he chided.

The dark-haired man squinted and stared at the glass. He reached up with one hand and took off the mask. He revealed a square jaw and chiseled cheekbones. He drained the shot in a single robotic motion but when he brought the glass back down, it shattered against the bar.

“He has issues with… restraint,” Steve said, “to him, a knock in the head is like a peck on the lips. He doesn’t feel it. If he can’t feel, how can he know what others can?”

“I don’t…” you sniffed.

“He could’ve killed you. He almost did by the looks of it, but he didn’t,” he continued, “there are flickers in him… little things left behind from who he once was, but I don’t think it was mercy.”

You chewed your lip and stayed silent. You took a breath and once more wracked your tender ribs. You folded your arms around you and grimaced.

“Yeah, hurts, doesn’t it?” he taunted, “unfortunately for us, you’ll need lots of rest if you don’t wanna puncture a lung.”

“What do you… mean?” you regretted asking the moment the question was out. It was a dumb question.

He raised his brows and the scar across his eye paled. He rubbed his forehead and chuckled. His blue eyes wandered for just a moment to the plain gray cotton along your shoulders and he shrugged.

“Look, you don’t wanna do this now,” he said, “so I suggest…” he reached under the bar and revealed a bottle of wine then a stemmed glass, “you get comfortable,” he turned and searched the slim drawer at the top, “and try not to think too much.”

He put an orange bottle of pills down beside the glass and filled the crystal. He pushed the wine towards you and uncapped the bottle. He placed two tablets beside the base and popped the lid back on. 

“It will help with the pain,” he assured you, “and it will make it easier to get settled in.”

“I… I don’t what these are,” you scoffed as you pointed at the pills.

“I wouldn’t poison you. I could end it a lot quicker than that,” he tisked, “so, accept my generosity or I’ll shove it down your throat.”

You blanched and stared at him. The other man, Bucky, stood and stopped you from reaching for the wine. Steve looked at him in amusement and watched him jab a finger towards his chest.

“I’m helping her,” Steve said flatly, “but if you have an easier way, by all means.”

Bucky lowered his chin and closed his eyes. He sat and turned to you. He took the pills and held them out to you. You scooped them up shakily and he swiped up the wine, hovering it just before you. You shoved the pills in your mouth and accepted the wine.

His eyes focused on your lips as you sipped and he glanced back at Steve. He put his hand flat in the air, a blunt gesture. The blond laughed and raised his palms defensively.

“He wants me to leave you alone now,” he snickered, “go on then, Buck, find her a bed.”

The soldier stood and waited for you to do the same. You left the wine half-finished and he ushered you back to the door. As he reached it, Steve’s voice rose again.

“Shouldn’t worry so much about me hurting her, soldat,” he called mockingly, “you do that well enough.”

He prodded you through the door and growled under his breath. He directed you down to the corner and pressed his thumb to the keypad. The door slid up suddenly and you flinched. He blocked the doorway behind you as you entered and looked around at the bedroom. Everything you needed awaited you within those walls and if you weren’t in the middle of a mountain, it would seem an entirely ordinary place.

You turned back but all you saw was the metal descend and close you in. You stared at it for a moment then went to the bed. You sat and rubbed your temples. You could feel the pills dredging up your mind and the wine curdling in your stomach. Sleep was tempting as it was your only choice.

★

When you woke next, you felt an odd presence. The room was dark but it was that feeling you got as a child when you left the closet door open and conjured monstrous creatures watching from within. 

You groaned as you propped yourself up on one elbow and reached to the switch above the headboard that turned on the lamps on the side table. The room lit up and you crooked as you found a visitor in your corner. 

It was the soldat, his mask back in place as he stood and watched you. You blinked and looked at the door. It was firmly shut. You kept the blanket over you like a shield as you sat up and tried not to show your fear.

“Hi,” you said softly, “are you… okay?”

His blue eyes searched you but gave nothing away. The mask and the curtain of his hair shrouded his emotion. You just stared back in silence as his lashes flicked subtly, his irises moving up and down the bed. He took a step closer and you winced, squeezing the edge of the blankets.

He neared and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. He grabbed the top of the blanket and tugged until you let them go. You quivered as he pushed your shoulders down and you were forced flat with your head on the pillows. You gulped and the movement of your throat caught his gaze.

His metal fingers tickled along your neck and sent a chill down your spine. His hand continued down the front of your shirt and he pushed the hem up as the blanket bunched beneath your stomach. You latched onto it in a panic and he tore your hands away. He pressed them to the bed beside you until you went limp.

He raised your shirt higher and framed your ribs with his hands, feeling carefully along your bruised torso. When you exclaimed he retracted his hands and pulled your shirt back down roughly. He shook his head and his brows slanted.

His metal fingertips tapped on his thigh as he thought. You laid frozen on the mattress as his forehead wrinkled and he angled his head as if arguing with himself. His hand shifted suddenly and closed around yours. You let him lift it, terrified to anger him.

He reached to unhook his mask and set it in his lap. He brought your hand to his cheek and leaned his face into your palm as he bent over you. You felt the short stubble stabbing your palm. He took your hand away and swung it back towards him sharply so that you smacked him stiffly. 

You stared at him in confusion and he did it again. Then he let your hand go and pointed at his cheek and nodded. You dropped your hand and did nothing. His blue eyes turned to daggers and his jaw squared. He balled his hand and punched his leg in frustration.

He huffed and picked up his mask. He stood and put it back on. He waved his fingers at you dismissively and stomped to the door. He pressed his thumb to the small indent and it slid open before him. When the door shut, you left the lights on. 

Even with the drugs still coursing through you, sleep didn’t seem likely.

[mona-stay]

Secrets part 2 - Peter Hale

Pairing reader x Peter Hale

Warnings, violence, jealously, angst, slow burn, flitty Peter

You take a long breath, thinking that question yourself. After today, Theo’s attitude all you wanted to do was get your stuff and leave. But where would you go. “honestly I’m not sure. I’m gonna see coach use my hand to get out of work. While Theo still here get my stuff and go. The rest I’ll work out later” you say hopeful.

 

“you know you can always come to me if your stuck, we’re still your friends y/n just because Theo was your boyfriend didn’t mean anything changed with us. Yes Stiles was upset but he got over it” she laughed. Giving you a hug. You’d forgotten how forgiving the Mc'Call pack was.

 

Once your hand was strapped up, you both left. “If your free later where all going to Derek’s your more than welcome to come” she offers. You tell her you’ll think about it before going back to work.

 

Coach Finstock took one look at your hand rolling his eyes. “what happened?” he asked.

 

“fight with my ex”  you say watching him laugh. “look any chance I can rest if the day off, we don’t have any practices today and with this hand I won’t be as useful as normal” you ask. To your surprise he agrees and tells you to be in early tomorrow.

 

You got your bag and started walking to the home you shared with Theo. Feeling dread as you turned the key in the door, taking a deep breath you push the door open to get it over with. You try and ignore the memories you both made in this house.

 

Walking in the living room you let the tears fall looking at a photo of you both together. You flip the picture down laying face down. It was over, now you had to do what you came to do, pack up and leave.

 

You started grabbing your stuff from the room, jumping when you hear a voice behind you. “come crawling back” Tracey said with disgust.

 

“No, but after the way Theo begged me to come back today I could if I wanted to” you sass back wanting to know what she was doing here. You had told in a laugh at the look of hate on her face and the stutter nothing.

 

You walk past her to get some of your other things. She turns watching you, you can tell she’s trying to think of a way to get to you. “If he’s so into you, why was he with ME , chose to come to ME have ME bouncing on his cock and not you!” she said smug, each time she said the word me she took a step closer, trying to look intimating.

 

This time you let your held laugh. “oh really, I saw the way he throw you off him. Let me guess the second he walked back after chasing me, he told you to get dressed and get out. Your here now because he’s avoided you and hoping to try and worm your way back in” you tell her.

 

She looks at you with a blank open mouth expression. The realisation hit you “oh my god I’m right, aren’t I.” You laugh.

 

“no” she tries to lie but it’s too late you both know Theo dropped her like she meant nothing.

 

You don’t what came over you, maybe months of feeling the chimera trying to be better than you, pushing you. “what do you think would happen if Theo came home now I told him I was willing to forgive him if he kicks you out if his pack, who do you think he’ll chose, the quick shag he pushed away, or the girlfriend he ran after, cried and begged to take him back?” you couldn’t hide the joy in your face “I think we both know who he would pick”

 

Tracy looked at you for a second, you tried to read the look in her eyes but they were blank. That was until she launched at you. Groaning in pain as the both of you crashed though the coffee table. She held you pinned under her body, and punches you in the face. Dazed and sore everything was a fast blur, you grab the nearest thing a fallen lamp hitting her in the head with it. The rest of the fight was a mix of you both kicking and hitting each other.

 

It was Theo and Cory running through the door that stopped you both. They drag you apart Theo’s voice streaming stop and what’s going on. “ask your little slut, she attacked me”  you yell, holding your face where it hurt.

 

“y/n please, she meant nothing to me” he says moving closer to you. Tracey growling from the corner Cory had her pinned in.

 

You looked at Theo ready to test his loyalty, “really if she means nothing, get rid of her!” you say. A small pause made you fold your arms waiting for his answer.

 

“baby please, she’s nothing just a pack member, I need all the numbers I can get” he tired to plead with you.

 

“I can’t look at you both together without seeing you together so make a choice Theo or I’ll make it for you!” you demand. When he didn’t answer, just mumbles a baby please don’t, you look at him heartbroken “fine!” you say walking upstairs to pack your bag.

 

When you come down Tracy and Cory had gone but you could still see them outside. “y/n don’t go, please you can’t ask me to choose between my pack and you” he pleads. You look trying to find any real emotion in his eyes.

 

“I loved you Theo, I gave up moving abroad with my sister, my friends here. All for you and you can’t give up one pack member for me, you’d never give up your power for me. I know that now, you say you love me but you’ll always love power more. Goodbye Theo, I hope you find what your looking for” you say holding in your tears as you place a final goodbye kiss on his check, walking out with your suitcase before he can stop you.

You drove to the edge of beacon hills preserve, parking the car sitting on the bonnet, finally letting all the held in emotions out. Lost in your own thoughts, was leaving a good idea, should you have given him a second chance or where do you go next. You wasn’t sure how long you’d sat there for, it wasn’t until you notice it was starting to go dark and cold you moved.

 

You thought about Lydia knowing Derek’s wasn’t far away, turning on your engine you decide to go. Outside you looked up at the windows debating whether to go in or call first. Lydia my have invited you but what about the others. Before you had a chance to call, a know on the window spooked you.

 

Peter stood there smiling at you, motioning for you to unlock the door. “well isn’t this a nice surprise seeing you here, I heard you may show up if you left Theo for good”  he says happily getting in the car. You didn’t say anything, when he looks at you his eyes scans your face. “he didn’t that to you did he?” he asks.

 

You shake your head no, “Tracy is responsible for the face n ribs, Theo is only guilty of having a hard head” you say holding up your strapped up wrist.

 

Peter laughed “I heard you gave him one hell of a punch, stiles seems to think if Theo were human you’d of knocked him out” he says with a tone of awe.

 

“thanks I think” you laugh “it felt great at the time, if I’m gonna be honest. Now though part of me regrets it, my hand is killing” you joke.

 

“so you coming up?” he asks about to get out. Your hesitant not sure if your willing to go or not.

 

“I’m not sure, I don’t know if anyone really wants me there, I was really hoping to catch Lydia, she offered me a place to stay, maybe I can till I sort out where I’m gonna go” you say low

 

“I’m hurt sweetheart” he says, placing his hands on his chest “you already have my guest room, I guess you really don’t wanna stay with me” he adds with a fake pout. “just joking but my offer is always there, now come on up, I want you there too maybe you can what ever Si-Fi movie Stiles chooses more bearable” you can’t tell if he’s joking or not at the last part.

 

“okay” you agree, taking one last look in the mirror wiping any make up lines from crying. Peter opened your door, holding out his hand for you. Taking it you step out the car locking it and head to the loft.

 

Inside everyone seemed happy to see you, even Derek gave you a hug saying he’d missed you. You smile catching the small snarl from Peter. Even Stiles wasn’t harsh with you the most sarcastic thing he said was “glad to see you’ve now seen him for what he is”

 

You spent the next hour chilling with the group, stiles put star wars on party annoyed when someone would start talking. Your eyes often drifting to Peter, each time you did his would already be on you. He would pull a face or roll his eyes in a way for just you to see.

 

“y/n, I probably shouldn’t bring this up like this but, have you got somewhere to go tonight or do you wanna stay with me” Lydia asked.

 

You flash a quick look to Peter who’s now paying attention waiting to hear your answer. Wishing your would go home with him.  You smile at Lydia “thanks your too kind but a friend has offered me their guest room for a bit” you say. Not missing the dark and sexy smile Peter gives.

 

After another hour, the movie ended. Scott and Derek were talking about training both not paying attention it had finished. Stiles asks Malia on her opinion of the film, Lydia and Peter both laughing when she asks what it was about still not understanding why he likes it. You noticed Mason and Liam had switched off, trying to talk quite but every now and then you hear Cory and Theo’s names mentioned. Peter comes and stands behind you whispering into your ear “I’m ready to go, you can stay longer if you want”

 

You smile up at him saying to give you a few minutes you’d be ready, you had one thing you needed to do first. Peter nods and heads out the flat. While you walk over to Mason and Liam.

 

“look I know this isn’t my place and I couldn’t help overhearing you before about Cory” you start. Masons shoulders sink as Liam looks defensive by the name. “yes Cory is in Theo’s pack but anything he feels for you is real. And you can trust anything you do or say around him won’t be told.”

 

Liam doesn’t agree “we caught him sneaking around, working for Theo” his smirk begging you for an excuse.

 

You shake your head, “no actually, Theo threatened Cory into spying but when Cory refused to say anything useful he was ordered to do it again but by this point I think Cory had feeling for Mason and told Theo he wouldn’t use Mason for information. It was the first and only time that boy stood up to Theo and that was for him.” You tell Liam.

 

Looking at Mason “it’s up to you but if you like him, go for it. It’s only fear keeping Cory with Theo, remember that” you tell him. Saying bye to the rest of the group you walk out the door catching up with Peter.

 

You follow Peter the short drive to his penthouse, parking next to his Shelby. Peter took your bag carrying it for you. Once inside he let you get settled as he started to cook. Maybe staying here wouldn’t be so bad you thought.

 

It had been two weeks since you moved in and Peter was struggling getting to the stage he couldn’t cope any more. It wasn’t that you were a bat house guest, in fact you were the opposite, you helped cook clean and even picked up shopping. His problem was his own feelings.

 

He couldn’t deal with the way you would walk around in shorts and a vest tops, showing off your legs and cleavage. The easy flirting you both shared, looks smiles winks. The way you would say something suggestive making him ask if you meant it or not. The late night drinks where your fall asleep on his lap and he’d carry you to bed. Most of all he hated putting you in a different bed from his. It wouldn’t have been so bad to just watch you keep telling himself it would never happen but after that kiss last week it’s all he wanted now and had it in his grasp. He hated being a good guy.

 

This morning was no different, Peter walked out of the bathroom wearing just his sweatpants towel drying his damp hair. Something that started driving you crazy, it was hard to tare your eyes from his toned abs.

 

Peter watches as you dance around the kitchen making breakfast. His eyes trail your body loving and hating the coaches outfit you wore. Something about your knee high socks and shorts set his imagination wild. “morning” he says making you turn to look at him. He could help but smirk when he see you eye him up biting your lips as your eyes trail down his chest.

 

“hey” you say “Pancakes?” you offer as you sliding the one you just cooked onto a pile of others. Peter nods coming over to sit by you.  “Are you coming to the game today?” you ask him. It was the first game of the lacrosse session and your first as assistant coach.

 

Peter looked amused “really you think I’d go to a high school sports game, it’s not even basketball. Its much better” he jokes. You knew it was a long shot but maybe with it being a big game for you he might of came. “however maybe I could be persuaded” he adds, with that smirk that makes you weak.

 

Smiling you slide off your stool, coming behind him wrapping your arms around his neck. Letting your fingers brush his chest hair. Moving closer your lips almost touching his ear “well if you do come, maybe I can find a way to show my thanks later” you try to sound seductive.

 

The small growl from Peters chest makes you laugh, you wanted to tease him as much as he did to you. Moving back you let your nose lightly brush against his ear. Once back in your seat “maybe you can tell me your favourite meal ill make it for you” you laughed.

 

Peter was going insane, was she doing this on purpose or if she even knew what she was doing. He shook his head, “such a tease, y/n, I should punish you” he said. Unlike y/n Peter knew what his words did to her and if you want to play games he could too. “do you need to be punished sweetheart”  he asked.

 

You bit your lip hoping he was going to come over and spank your ass, do something to end this unspoken game you both played. You keep eye contact with him as he comes closer, arching an eyebrow waiting for an answer. “you wouldn’t punish me Peter, no matter how naughty I am” you say dragging out punish and naughty.

 

Peter leaned down hovering his lips over yours, his eyes flicked from your eyes to lips and back again. You felt yourself shift in your seat about to move forward to kiss him. Peters smirk changed, his arm reaches around you stealing the last piece of bacon from your plate, putting in his mouth. Giving a laugh as he eat it. Just like Peter you hated the game but wouldn’t play it any other way.

 Seeing as Peter finished your breakfast you get ready for work, saying bye to Peter hoping to him at the game.

You were the first one at the school unlocking the doors hoping the team had improved enough to win. Once coach turned up your day was nonstop, he’d made you pull out the bleachers, check equipment,, direct the away team to their dressing room and now had you listening to one of his locker room speeches.

 

You couldn’t take anymore of his independence day nonsense, leaving the room you headed out to the field. You seen Mason and Cory both making their way out to watch. You smiled seeing them holding hands “hi” you shout jogging to catch up with them.

 

“well you two look happy”  you say. They both give each other shy glances but both beamed a smile at you.

 

“I guess we should thank you” Mason said, Cory looked confused. “y/n told me how you stood up to Theo for me. She said I should give you a chance” Mason filled Cory in.

 

You were about to say your welcome until a dreaded voice filled your ears. Tracy came around the corner making you groan. Since living with Peter you’d put Theo out of your head and being busy with the game you didn’t think about them turning up today.

 

“so you leave and still meddle with our pack, Cory how will Theo feel when he finds out your a turncoat” She said as she stalks towards you. Cory pushes Mason away, warning him with his eyes to find help, not sure what was going to happen.

 

You looked at her wanting to scream and shout but you couldn’t. “Tracy if your here for the game then go find a seat, if not then leave students can’t be wandering the halls” you say as professional as possible. Cory smiles a thanks walking off your follow him hoping your teacher like warning was enough. It wasn’t, Tracy steps in front of you her claws out ready to attack.

 

Mason finds Scott and the others panicking telling him to come quick. Theo watches hearing your name he follows. When Cory runs to them and they all run off, Theo brakes into a run too. When he catches up he sees y/n on the floor, Tracy over her with a bloody nose about to claw at her with Kanima venom. “Tracey! Stop!”  Theo roars making his beta jump of his ex girlfriend.

 

Theo grabs her by the throat holding her against the wall as Scott and Cory help you up off the ground. You wasn’t hurt, well not bad maybe some brushing not that was all. You wanted to go and run at Tracy and Theo not sure who you wanted to hit first.

 

Lucky for you Coach Finstock was in the hall too “what the hell is going on?” he demanded looking at you all. Scott looked at you and everyone else looked at him. You say his name but he stops you “actually don’t want to know, now everyone asses on the field.”

 

Theo pushed Tracey away ordering her to move, Scott ran to the field as the others headed to their seats. You looked at coach about to explain but all he did was tell you to get back to work.

 

The first half of the game went smoothly, BHH were leading but not by much, or at least not enough for coach to be happy. You felt annoyed too, after what happened with Tracy you worried about your job and Peter still hadn’t turned up from what you’d seen, the empty chair next to Malia never filled.

 

To make matters worse, Theo was walking towards you. You turn away hoping he’d just go away, walk past you and not look your way. Luck really wasn’t on your side today, “y/n can we talk I wanna say sorry about Tracy” he says.

 

You sigh “you didn’t tell her to attack me, but you can keep her on a leash and away from me” you say about to walk away, find some excuse to look busy.

 

Theo’s body language changes as you feel an arm come around your shoulder. “hello sweetheart, sorry I’m late” Peter say, not taking his eyes from Theo. You smile, nervous at what he’s doing. “is he bothering you, y/n” Peter asks, pulling you in closer to him.

 

Theo takes a step forward, huffing out his chest trying to look harder. “were working a few things out, can you leave and get your filthy hand off my girl” Theo says.

 

Peter couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t about to let Theo worm his way back in and he couldn’t resist a bit of fun. “What is it with you teenagers? You think that you’re so special? You think you can tell me what to do?” Peter said, leaning in to place a small kiss on your cheek. Really getting under Theo’s skin and yours. You feel the heat rise in your cheeks confused by the whole situation. Peters casual flirting, Theo looking like he’s about to blow.

 

Theo grabbed your wrist dragging you out of Peters gentle hold. “she’s mine” he yelled trying to drag behind him as he squared up to Peter. “go near her and watch” he started to threaten.

 

 “get off me Theo! What the hell are you doing” you scream trying to free yourself. You look at Peter his amused smirk waiting to see what Theo would do next, more importantly what you would do. Once free from his hold “Theo this has to stop, we’re not working anything out we’re over and for good. So just leave me alone”

 

Theo didn’t move at first. His eyes flicking from you to Peter trying to work out what was going on. “so you and him” Theo says in disgust. “this who you’ve been with!”

 

“it’s not like that” you say low. You wasn’t lying but you wish he was right, you wanted a you and Peter. You look at Peter unable to read his poker face. “but even if there was it’s none of your business anymore”

 

Peter played fake hurt “sweetheart you wound me, I thought we had something special” he jokes, making Theo growl his eyes flashing gold.

 

“Peter shut up your not helping” you say seeing Theo’s anger building.

 

“now, now y/n, that’s no way to speak to your alpha now is it” Peter practically purrs.

 

This set Theo off. You imagine it was the word alpha that pushed Theo over the edge. He’d always had a hidden alpha kink the one title he craved. Without warning Theo charged at Peter claws out ripping his V-neck. “your no alpha” and “she’ll never be yours” he shouted.

 

Peter let the young, stupid chimera land his first two or three hits before flashing his own eyes red. Theo looked stunned for a minute letting Peter swipe his claws at the teen. Both of them now had blood on them and if you did do someone one of them most likely Theo would die.

 

You scream for them to stop about 5 times but each one fallen on deaf ears. Your only option was to try and stop them yourself. You wasn’t sure which one of them clawed you, but your cry of pain made them both stop.

 

Theo ran to you asking if you were okay and said sorry over an over. Peter looked down is eyes scanning your injuries, feeling easier when he saw they wasn’t deep. Standing up you look at Theo “No, now just go” was call you could say. Not wanting to argue he did, walking of towards the main gate leaving the school. Vowing to Peter it wasn’t over

 

You look at Peter who’s eyes were back blue. Part of you wanted to ask him what that was all about, why goat Theo into a fight. What was he trying to prove but didn’t have the energy to. You never got a chance the buzzer sounded letting you know the game had restarted. “shit, I gotta go” you tell him running back to work. You would be surprised if you still had a job come Monday.

 

The rest of the game had been trying, both team scoring making the leader bored jumping  back and forth. One of your players taking an injury masking Stiles come on instead. You hated this, five minutes left and both teams drawing. Biting your nail you watch the tean make their play.

 

You jump when you feel a hand come around the back of your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder his other hand finds your hip. “so do you think the wolfs can pull this off” he said not taking his eyes if the game.

 

You laughed “since when did you care how they play, wasn’t sure you were even gonna come” you say leaning back into his chest.

 

“since you asked me, if I’m going do something I give it my full my attention” he answers in his flirty tone.

 

“you know people will start talking, think somethings going on, if you keep holding me like this”  you say but not wanting him to move. You look around to see if anyone was watching, Hayden was, in fact she was stirring and talking on her phone, no doubt filling Theo in.  “or are you doing this to piss Theo off more”  you laugh.

 

“I couldn’t care less about Theo he’s not worth any more of our time, now he knows ‘who’ I am I doubt he’ll be showing his face again. Also would it be so bad if there was something going on between us?” he asked.

 

You bit your lip, feeling your heart race. Your about to tell him no until the winning goal was scored seconds before the final buzzer sounds. For once your team won, Bobby was shouting you over making you jump out of Peters arms, “hold that thought” you say running off to your boss. Peter watches you frustrated wishing you’d look at him how you had in his living the night he took you home.

 

The stands started to empty, everyone happy with the result. Some of the dumping their sticks to run off and celebrate. Coach ordering you to pack up. “okay” you call back start gathering up equipment to put away.  Peter walks over picking up the lacrosse stick, handing it to you. “guess you still have work to do, I’ll see you later” he says but this he seems off. You couldn’t help but smile he’d actually came to say bye.

 

“your going? I’ll see you at Derek’s right?” you question.

 

Peter nodded, “you seem busy so I’ll leave you too it, I’ll see you after” he says

 

“how about you leave your car at yours we can take mine home. No point both of us driving” you say.

 

Peter smirks “wouldn’t people think something going on of we did” he mocked your words from earlier.

 

You look up “would it be so bad if they did” you say back seeing Peters smile change to a more happier one as he goes to turn. “see you later” you say running the sticks into the locker room telling the team to hurry up and get changed. It took you and Bobby Finstock around two hours to fully kick everyone out and lock up the school.

Theo stood in the car park, leaning against your car. You roll your eyes, after today you couldn’t take anymore of his shit. “so your really choosing him over me” he asked, his arms folded.

 

“I’m not choosing him over you, Theo. I’m choosing not to be with you.” You say honestly.

 

“but he doesn’t love you, I do” he said back hoping you would belive him. “he’s going to use you, hurt you it’s who he is” stepping closer, now starting to scare you a little, you take a breath trying not to let him intimidate you

 

“you don’t know what love is Theo. You might be right, Peter might hurt me, he might not but at the end of the day Theo you already HAVE hurt me. Not just by cheating on me but letting power and your pack be more important than me.” You say trying to open your car door.

 

Theo grabs your throat, pinning you to the car “so you really think I’d just let you leave like that” he roars. You start to panic seeing the crazed look in his eye. “your not gonna walk away and betray me, I’d rather kill you first”. He was now squeezing so hard you couldn’t breath, you vision going burly. “If that doesn’t show love, I don’t know what will” he said. You grabbed his wrists, struggling against his power, kicking your your feet at his shins. The panic was real, you thought you were going to die by Theo's hands. His words drowned out by the ringing of your car alarm. Your vision now completely black, lungs stinging for air, all you wished for was Peter.

 

It was the voice of coach, that made Theo get go. You fell to the floor, gasping for breath. When your vision came back into focus, you saw Bobby pinning Theo against your car.  He asked if you were okay and that Stilinski was on his way, you must have blacked out, not hearing him call for anyone. You nod your okay after getting your breath back and calming down, still refusing to go to the hospital even though Bobby insisted you do. Once the sheriff took Theo away, Bobby asked if you wanted driving home, you kindly refuse getting in your car. Looking at the marks Theo left wondering what your gonna say to the others and how Peter will react.

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Human (Natasha Romanoff)

Human: Chapter 1

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. For the sake of this fic we’re going to pretend that the Battle of New York lasted quite a few hours.

*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that’s it (lmk if there’s anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012:

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it’s a habit so deeply engrained in my framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat. 

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” I said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We’d kept in contact and he hasn’t given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm living in my third apartment since then. Wow…those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o’clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. “An alien invasion?! What the fu-” My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes… aliens. I’m forming a team of…extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be weird as hell but I ain't ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join once the battle is over, you can go right back to France and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence I agreed. 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later: 

I flew my jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. We don’t need to talk about how I got my hands on a German jet that can fly 2100mph. I saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. I maneuvered the jet and— wait…is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? Whatever. I landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines. I hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell the chick in the black uniform is and— whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing my steps had literally faltered in a mini gay panic, I slowed to a walk and said “Y’all need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the redheaded source of my panic.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that I took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of my magazines into Chitauri bodies, I switched to my swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. I started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when I saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. I stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and the buff blonde guy with the hammer when the big green dude grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to us. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said nodding toward me. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed my blood-soaked form from head to toe. 

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Yeah that’s fair.” She shook her head at me with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up. 

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

I had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed me where to park my jet and directed me to a room so I could shower and stay the night if I wanted to. I had put on black jeans, a white tee, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in my jet. I was toweling off my hair when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

I walked into the conference room and the Avengers were already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names I learned from Hill— were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed me from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I squinted my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows in response, and I could see her stifle a laugh. “What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression, which made me feel oh-so-special. 

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let us leave. I was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to me. “Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards me in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both of us were trying to figure out if the conversation was over. 

I was about to leave when she continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that I turned around and started walking away, but a hand on my arm stopped me dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in my head, and I'm pretty sure Romanoff was saying something to me but I was too caught up in the memories of beatings, punishments, and psychological conditioning to register it. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, the white of my vision cleared up and the voice telling me ‘physical contact is strictly forbidden’ faded into the background. My heart was still hammering in my chest and I was trying to keep my breathing steady despite the inevitable panic attack trying to drag me under, I regained my neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” She had a concerned expression and if I wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, I would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” I turned around and walked back to my temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind me, hot tears raced down my cheeks and I lost the ability to breathe. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

I finally managed to calm myself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Well, I passed out because I couldn’t breathe but it did calm me down. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so I decided to leave before anyone woke up. I didn’t really have much to pack so I grabbed my duffel bag and left the room. I made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads and ran into the one person I really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebellious streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” She studied me for what felt like way too long, probably debating if I would try to kill her or not. You know how spies are with their trust issues.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how I ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at me to, and I quote, ‘slow the fuck down.’ “Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know? You’re only being like this to keep me from seeing the real you. You built walls. You want everyone to think you’re fine when in reality, you’re falling apart.”

“Okay…um…there was no need for that, Dr. Romanoff. I can find my own therapist, thank you very much. And don’t go pretending you’re all healthy in the head, Miss Assassin.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before we both burst into laughter.

Madrid, Spain:

I landed the jet at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. base and killed the engines. Romanoff and I removed our headsets and I stood to help her get her bags. “Welp, I’ll see you around I guess.” I really wasn’t good at this type of thing. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean?”

“Um, I don’t really know, honestly. I’m not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. so we won’t just run into each other or anything but…”

“Why won’t you join S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Ohhh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” I was cut off when she threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Freaking crazy woman.”

When our laughter died down she said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give me a hug but she must’ve seen my body go rigid because she stepped back. She might’ve said something but the voice in my head was too loud for me to understand her. I don’t know how long it was before I unfroze but when I did, she was gone. I walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

[deitysnips]

Regrettably Attached Pt. 1

Stark!Reader x Loki

Word Count: 2958

Authors Note: I wanna thank you guys in advance for reading this. I haven’t written anything in probably 6 years so it might be a little sloppy. I am open to suggestions and any fixes you guys can bring to my attention!

Summary:; You’re Tony Stark’s younger sister and you are somewhat part of the Avengers, but behind the scenes, not necessarily on the front lines unless you’re needed. This is an UA where Loki is living in the compound living under strict supervision and the reader slowly starts falling for the God of Mischief after hating him due to, yaknow, trying to kill her brother and some of her closest friends, but that quickly turns into lovers(obvi)

Growing up as Tony’s sister was and still is kind of terrifying. Tony has always been such a “smarty pants” for lack of a better phrase. Even with him being a child prodigy, you two have always been close and you would want it any other way. You grew up following in his and your fathers footsteps.

Years past and you have graduated with multiple engineering degrees and even though your mother and father weren’t here to see it, Tony always made sure you knew how proud they would be of you. No graduation, presentation or ceremony went unattended by the now Iron Man. So it was no surprise when Tony asked you to join him and the other Avengers at the compound to help with logistics and help Tony and Bruce create safer suits.

“Hey Kid! Get down here, we need your help!” 

It’s been 5 years that you’ve been living with Tony and still, nothing surprises you.

“Hold on! I just got out of the shower!” You shouted from your cracked bedroom door. You quickly put on some extremely worn jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt that you MIGHT have stolen from your older brother. You cracked open the door once more and yelled to Tony

“Is this a no shoes project?!” You sat with your head out the door tapping your fingers along the door frame when someone threw what seemed to be a wad of paper at the back of your head. You groaned and sucked air through your teeth. “I swear to the gods, Rogers, if you don’t stop throwing shit, I’m gonna curb stomp you” You said as you turned your head to send a glare towards Steve. To your unpleasant surprise, it was not Steve, but the annoying, somewhat attractive God Of Mischief, Loki

“Oh, my dear, Mr. America isn’t the only one who likes to get under your skin” Loki said very nonchalantly while leaning against his own door frame. “Now if you don’t mind. Stop that obnoxious yelling. Some of us are actually trying to work and not be babied by their dear brother.” Loki glared at you from where he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. 

You and the god have never been on good terms, even after the pleading Thor gave you when he brought him back from Asgard after its destruction. You wanted to believe him when he said that his brother had changed and was working towards being a better ‘person’, but it still left an unpleasant taste in your mouth since, you know, he tried to kill your brother.

“Get fucked, Loki.” You stepped out of your room, body completely turned towards the man in front of you. “I have told you multiple times to leave me alone. Tony might be okay with you being here, but I certainly don’t give a shit what happens to you.” You spat at him with venom and malice in your voice. Tony told you time and time again to try to be civil with Loki, but you never listened. You just couldn’t. 

You continued to stare at the slimy, yet oddly handsome man-god thing in front of you and if looks could kill, he wouldn’t be breathing.

“Hey, kid, did you not hear the urgency in my voice or do you enjoy giving me a heart attack?” You jumped when you felt your brother out his hand on your shoulder. “I told you that yes, you did need shoes. Bruce and I really need your help on the Mark VII suit- wait, sis, are you alright?” Tony studied your face after turning your shoulder towards him with a worried expression

“Yeah, I’m fine Tony. Let me just grab my shoes and I’ll be down” You pulled away from your brother and ran into your room, slamming the door behind you. You sit with your back against your door and hide your face in your hands, groaning loudly.

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” You whisper softly to yourself. You’ve been at such a crossroads when it comes to the trickster god. You hate him for what he did to Tony and your friends, but at the same time, you can’t help but have this… attraction to him. The sharpness of his jawline, the softness in his bright blue eyes, or the way his lips curl up into a cheeky little smirk when he does something that riles you up. It’s been a year and a half since Thor brought Loki back, and you still haven’t adjusted.

You let out a long sigh of frustration as you stand up and walk to your closet pulling out a loved pair boots. After you pull your shoes on, you finally find the strength to walk out of your room and start heading towards the workshop to find Tony and Bruce. You make a pitstop to the kitchen to grab some coffee and a small snack

“Hey FRIDAY, can you ask if Tony and Bruce want anything?” You call out into the empty room while making a PB&J sandwich”

“They both say nothing at the moment other than your presence, Miss. Stark. Mr. Stark said it is very urgent and they need you down there quickly” 

You groan as you toss the butter knife into the sink and start walking down the stairs to the workshop. Once you enter you see Bruce leaning over one of the tablets with his hands running through his hair.

“Alright, what did I miss?” you say as you take a bite of your sandwich, causing the men to look up at you, seemingly irritated. “Whoa whoa boys, what the hell?” You raise an eyebrow at your brother who’s sitting across from Bruce, impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk. Tony sighs and stands up to walk over to his computer, pulling up the internals of the suit

“For whatever reason, the suit keeps overheating after about 10 minutes and we cannot for the life of us figure out why” Bruce says while Tony is flipping through all the internals for you. You can’t help but smile and giggle a little bit.

“Alright kid, what's so funny? Tony asks, slightly glaring in your direction.

“Oh no, nothing. Nothing at all. But, uh, unrelated, how long have you guys been working on this?”

“A couple h-” Tony goes to speak but is interrupted by the suit powering up, seemingly without issues.

“Big brother, you’re a terrible liar. When I woke up yesterday morning, you both had already been down here working on it. It was a simply missing variable and a loose connection.” Tony and Bruce both keep switching between the suit and their respective computers trying to figure out how they missed such a small thing.

“How the fu-” “LANGUAGE!” Steve yells out as he stares coming down the stairs. Tony rolls his eyes and starts going through the internals again before smacking his palm to his forehead. “Thanks kid”

“No problem old man, now go get some rest.” You say, patting Tony on the back.

“Hey, can I talk to you really quick, Squeak?” You groan loudly at the nickname that the team gave you when you first showed up. You were so nervous about making a good impression, that when you started to speak, all of your words got stuck in your chest and all that came out was a little squeak.

“Yeah Cap, maybe if you stop calling me that god awful nickname, like I've told you to do multiple times!” You both start walking up the stairs and you playfully push Rogers shoulder, knowing it won’t do much. 

Once you make it up the stairs, Steve leads you to the living room and sits at the couch across from your favorite chair

“Alright, if this is an intervention, I’m leaving. I get I shouldn’t be smoking bu-” You stop talking when Steve lifts his hand up and just stares at you with a dumbfounded look “This isn’t an intervention, but maybe it should be- yo- what?!” Steve gets a little loud at the end of his sentence, catching the attention of Tony and Thor who are in the kitchen making some lunch

“STEVE SHUT UP” You blush slightly and hide your face in your hands again.

“Conversation for another time, anyways” Steve pulls your hands away from your face and makes you look at him and quietly says your name “What was going on earlier when Tony came up stairs? I was in the bathroom down the hall and I heard you yelling at someone? Was it Loki again?” You avoid eye contact but nod slightly. Steve lets out a small sigh and sits back

“What he did wasn’t even terrible, Cap. He threw a ball of paper at me and basically told me to shut up. I just get so irrationally angry at him for what he tried to do to my family. Tony is all I have left. I know that everyone has told me to make nice and just fake it for the sake of all of us being here almost all the time, but I can’t. I'm just so confused and..” You stop yourself and look up at Steve who is intently listening.

“What are you confused about, doll?” He raises an eyebrow and you start blushing again.

“I- I don’t wanna talk about it..” You whisper softly and glance over to where Tony and Thor are at. As much as Tony begs you to be nice and try to be civil, he would not hesitate to beat your ass if he found out that you were harboring a crush for the trickster. Steve leans in and whispers

“I think I know. I may be from a different time, but I know a crush when I see it.” He pulls back and smiles at you and for whatever reason, this makes you angry.

“WHAT?! You think I have a little schoolgirl crush on that fucking murderer?! HE TRIED TO KILL TONY MULTIPLE TIMES!” You yelled at Steve as you stood up, tears stinging your eyes “I would NEVER mess with the likes of Loki, whether he's a God or a prince of whatever the hell he is!”

“Squeak, now hold on-”

“No, Rogers- Leave me alone!” You storm away from him and go up the stairs leading to your bedroom. Once you get to your door, another wad of paper is thrown in your direction, but this time you catch it. Turning towards where the paper had come from, was he himself.

“Hello, darling. I heard you and Rogers speaking about me” He smirks ever so slightly and starts slowly sauntering over to you. Once he gets close to you, you pull a dagger out of the sheath around your thigh and press the tip to his chest

“I suggest you leave me the hell alone, you psychopath.” You grit your teeth as you finish your sentence and Loki puts his hands up in defeat and takes a few steps back

“My my, little one. I didn’t know you could be so feisty.” He chuckles slightly and crosses his arms over his chest. “I just wanted to have a civil conversation and see if we can come to an understanding about where my loyalties lie and try to get your tiny Midgardian brain to understand that I’m not the same person I was.. Before” 

You sheath your dagger and pinch the bridge of your nose hopeful to fight off your frustration.

“Look, Loki. You may not realize the severity of what you did, but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna accept that you’re some righteous person-god- whatever the hell you are.”

“Oh, good heavens, no. I’m not righteous whatsoever, darling. Never have been, never will be. But” He points a finger at the ceiling and smiles “I can promise you that I do not plan to murder anyone… in this building” 

You smirk softly at the humor in the tricksters voice and cross your arms over your chest. 

“So how about that conversation?” You gester to him to come in your room but when you look back at his face he has a rather dumbfounded look on his face

“What a minute, 45 seconds ago you had a bloody dagger to my chest, ready to skin me alive, but now you want me to come into your room with you?” Loki walks closer to you slowly still with that dumb look on his face.

You place your hand back on your dagger and laugh “Just because I’m inviting you into my room, doesn’t mean I won’t hesitate to stab you if you give me a reason to.” You wink at him and walk into your room, where you kick off your shoes and lounge in the recliner at the far corner of your room. 

The rooms at the compound were not small by any means. Each room has a giant California king size bed, a double walk-in closet, its own little mini fridge, plus enough room to have 2 Hulks lay side by side on the floor.

You have yours decorated in your signature color, with white accents on the furniture as well as copious amount of liquor bottles on the top of your bookshelf.

Loki saunters in after a few seconds and takes a seat on your bed, directly in front of you. It seems like he’s… admiring you? He won’t look away and seems to be studying your face, how your wavy hair falls softly from the messy bun on the top of your head, how your eyes sparkle with the sun coming through the windows, how your lips are just a subtle rosy color, indicating that you either suck of chew on them when frustrated.

“Are you gonna say anything or are you just gonna sit here and stare at me all day?” You blush softly and stare right back at him

“My dear, if I may be rather brash, it just seems like something seems of worry to you, my apologies. But, yes, where would you like me to begin?”

You and Loki sat there for 3 or 4 hours talking about what really happened when Loki invaded New York, what happened to his mother and how Asgard was completely destroyed by his and Thor’s elder sister. Half way through the conversation, you had pulled down a rather nice bottle of Whiskey and two rocks glasses, pouring both of you a drink while Loki was reliving what he described to be the most painful part of his life. There you sat with the man you had sworn to hate until your last breath, actually feeling sorry for judging him so harshly. But who can blame you?

“Wow” You said after he had finally finished. You looked down at your glass and it was empty. While Loki was explaining everything to you, you had finished 4 or 5 full glasses of whiskey and were starting to feel a little tipsy

“Loki, I am so indecently sorry. All of the times Thor and I had talked about what happened, he never once told me how hard you took everything.”

Loki scoffed a little and looked at his glass “Well, my story really isn’t for my brother to tell, and he never really understood my feelings on the matter. I never really spoke to him about it. It was really only me on my own.” He shrugged softly and finished what liquor he still had in his glass “I really hope this changes your viewing of my, darling. I truly meant what I said. I have zero intentions of harming anyone in this compound.”

You shook your head a little and pushed the hair that had fallen into your face back “But why tell me all of this? Why tell the one person who probably hates you the most in the tower all of your worries and how at fault you feel?” You looked up from your glass when he chuckled.

“My dear, I know you don’t truly hate me. You hate what I did to your brother and the Avengers.” He leaned forward to be at eye level with you and spoke very softly “Do not forget, little one. I can read minds, you know” He winked at you and sat back in his chair

“I- you what now?!” You sat up straight and your face became very flushed. How could you have been so naive? Thor had mentioned it a couple of times that he believes his brother could read thoughts, but you never took it to heart.

“Miss. Stark, it seems as so Mr. Stark is worried about you. He has no idea where you are and I didn’t think to make him privy of your location.” FRIDAY interjected before you or Loki could say anything regarding the mind reading matter.

“Thanks, FRIDAY, can you tell him I’m up in my room? I don’t think I’ll be able to walk after the amount of alcohol I’ve drank” You chuckled slightly and rubbed your face with your hands.

“Right away Miss. Stark. Oh, it seems as if your brother is coming to see you.” 

You internally began slightly panicking because as much as Tony wanted you to be civil, I don’t think he would want you damn near wasted with the God Of Mischief in your room.

“I shall be on my way, darling” Loki stood up and walked over to you. He rests his hands on the back of your chair and soon your face to face.

“Conversation for another time” He quickly places a kiss to your cheek before disappearing in a green cloud.

What the fuck is happening?

[just-a-real-human]

Silver Warfare: Part 2

William stood on the bridge of his ship, The Silver Warfare. At 2000 meters long, 150 million kilos and still growing, it was the largest battleship in the human navy, except of course the Deus Ex Machina, but that's mainly a base of operations and basically a mobile planet, not technically a battleship. They were expecting an attack by the Dr’acha’lians, and usually William would call in reinforcements, a carrier maybe, or perhaps a couple destroyers. But with the recent additions and improvements upon the massive warship, William was more than confinent in the power his ship held. "So, have the radar crew spotted them yet?" William asked, putting a hand on his chin, stroking his beautiful, silver beard. "No sir, they're not within the 100 kilometre range, sir." "Have the gunners fire a couple radar shots, see what they can find." Radar shots were a special type of shell that can scan an area of about 100 kilometres of where they were headed, the negative is that due to the fact they're launched so fast, they can only take small snapshot of anything they find unless it's at least planet sized. They don't really use radar, not anymore at least, but when they were invented about 100 years ago they still used radar, hence the name. "Hmm...sir, not in the range of radar shots either, do you think they aborted the mission?" "Unlikely...Welp, if they won't come to us i suppose we can go to them...Let's fire up thrusters to gain some speed and go into their general direction, let's beat them down like the beasts they are." "Very well sir, those reptillian bastards'll get what's comin' to them." William chuckled, patting his navigator on the shoulder, looking out into the vast space ahead. Dr’acha’lians we're a rather...simple minder folk, related to the Dr'achs, they had a burning hatred for humanity for...well, exterminating their entire sister species in a way that can only be described as...excessive. It had been about 6 months since that moment, and the Dr’acha’lians had attempted to take revenge on human about 7 times now, failing everytime. Hell, they once tried to attack the Deus Ex Machina! Suffice to say, they didn't get far. William stroked his beard, looking out as they moved forward at a respectable speed "Say, do you think they might be wanting to ambush us? If so, do you think we should ready reinforcement, artillery?" The navigator frowned "You have a point, cap'n, maybe ask that new secretary, Peter, right? He knows them aliens better than us, he should have something to say about it, right?" William nodded approvingly, he knew he could count on his navigator for advice in a pinch. With the introductions of ships this immense, navigators changed from simple pathfinders to assistants that can both navigate the ship and give advice to the captain, as they were expected to know the ins and outs of their ships like the captain themself. William tapped the communicator on his wrist. The communicator beeped for a little while... At Peter's end he was nervously working on the tasks captain William had laid out for him, simple inventory counting, weapons checks, crew counts etc. When suddenly the communicator on the monitor bleeped with an urgent call! Poor Peter almost fell out of his chair, looking at the call, it was William himself! "Uh, Hello sir! Sorry for not picking up, i haven't quite gotten the hang of this thing just yet!" "No problem boy, i just need some advice, do you know about Dr’acha’lian tactics?" "Uh...enough sir, why, are we getting attacked?" "No, at least not yet, i just needed some advice about if they might be planning an ambush, and subsequently, if we needed to call some reinforcements." Peter thought for a moment, digging deep in his brain... "Uhh, well, the Dr’acha’lians aren't known for ambushes, and if the previous battle have been a good example, they aren't exactly worth heavy reinforcements...but you can never be too carefull. Give me a minute sir, i'll see if i can calculate some risks and costs, see what's worth what." "Very well, just try to make it a little swift, i

believe you in the lack of proper ambushes, but still, we don't wanna just blindly stumble into eachother." William looked around, a hand on his chin, the other fidgeting with his hair a bit. He wasn't NERVOUS so to say, but like, a step below that. He knew SOMETHING was coming, and he knew they'd most likely win, but still, a battle's a battle, and you never want to lose men. *Beep beep beep* After roughly 3 minutes the communicator bleeped again, Peter's voice instantly talking as soon as he picked up. "So, sir, i think the best choice might be to call in a couple corvettes and MAYBE a destroyer, judging by the last battles, misslecrafts might be a good choice, and the destroyed should probably be a modified broadsider, the Dr’acha’lians aren't the fastest, but they're not very slow either." William nodded approvingly, eyebrows raised in surprise "Well, thank you Peter! You've done a great job, grab yourself a drink, there's a particularily good soda in the first layer of the drink storage. Though i suggest you don't take anything alcoholic just yet, let's save that for after the battle" Peter chuckled heartily "Thanks sir, but i don't drink, i'll take a look at the soda though! Good luck, sir!" William smiled, ending communications and switching it to the coms devision. "Communications, order some reinforcements, send in 5 corvette missleboats and a destroyer, modified broadsider if at all possible." "Very well sir, punching in the order now...and done! They will be in in about 7 minutes" "Good, thank you, keep up the good work" William closed coms again, leaning against the terminals. "So, now we wait! Let's hope those dull reptillians make themselves and easy target...fire some more radar shots, see if they find anything." "Yup, will do sir." The navigator pressed a few of the buttons, which then sends orders to the artillery garrisons to send out shots. A very efficient system, it simply worked with buttons and orders, of course if specifics were needed or the order buttons were defective/in maintenance, coms can always be opened. They though of everything in this top-of-the-line warship.

The minutes passed rather slowly, but after they passed, it was always worth the wait seeing the ships come in from lightfolding, dropping into line smoothly with the wide lightshow of colours as the ships quickly go from a simple mass of warped light to a proper ship. "Sir William, the ships have all arrived" Said the navigator "Good, we can start speeding up! Send the order to search around for recon, let's find those bastards!" Although looking puny by comparison, the corvettes were still missleboats 100 metres long, and those destroyers were about 300 metres! A fleet of those can quickly turn any ship to spacedust, i mean human missles are no joke, they often carry thermobaric explosives that completely incinerate the inside of a ship as long as there is fuel! Brutal...but as they say, 'All's fair in love and war' After about 10 minutes or recon, the message came in...The enemy had been spotted! "Good! Well done boys, place a tracker in their direction and we can start ranging our shots" William looked outside to the general direction the recon ships were headed, and ask and you shall receive, the radar showed a beacon. William looked at the direction for a long moment, and then he noticed the tiny specs...yup, those were Dr’acha’lian ships right, ugly, weirdly coloured and overall horrible. "Prepare the 120cm cannons, we're gonna be hitting them hard right off the bat." The navigator nodded, punching in the order and readying fire. "Any more orders sir?" "Yes, missleboats, get in position to speed in, lock on and fire with everything you have, destroyer, stay with the S.W and join in fire accordingly, prepare concussive shells." "Yes sir!" Said the navigator, punching in the orders and sending them to the ships. In unison the ships started moving along, the corvettes taking up a wide pentagon, silently preparing missles and roaring up their thrusters, ready to rush in and fire. "Alright...Let's now wait just a moment, tell the artilerry to fire the moment they have a perfect shot, as soon as they fire, we will engage" "Understood sir, you heard the captain, the artillery batteries have the say now..." Seconds passed, feeling like hours, and then, dissapearing as fast as they appeared, immense tremmors shook the ship as an entire salvo of 120cm cannons fired their shells, the corvettes swiftly firing the engines and catapulting forwards towards the enemy. The Silver Warfare herself quickly started turning, the destroyer joining the corvettes in their ambush. They could see the shells hit from here, the absolute power in those thing tearing apart entire battleships in a single hit, followed by a positively gigantic swarm of rockets enveloping the enemy fleet, passing by and hitting ships as it passed before the swarm turned around, hitting again and again, continueing to batter the ships, giving them no chance at retaliation. The silver warfare was approaching swiftly, readying arms and armor as the enemy ships scrambled to put a resistance. William opened up shipwide announcements "General quarters, i repeat men, action stations!" The ship quickly armed and armored up, shields glowing, weapons humming, beeping or making other noises. The ship's immense generator went into battle mode, whirring up a storm as electricety went skyhigh to keep up with the demands of the powerful shielding and weaponry. As soon as the Silver Warfare got in range, all hell broke loose as the Dr’acha’lians opened fire upon them, luckily, their weaponry was vastly inferior to the Silver Warfare's bleeding edge tech and simply immense firepower. As the ships started firing, the Silver Warfare started turning, exposing its side to the enemy as to release the full power of the ship. As soon as the cannons were in range, all of them started firing, a swarm of glowing shells starting to pepper the enemy, destroying small ships and leaving only rubble and dust in their wake. "Sir! The ship is keeping steady and the Dr’acha’lians are struggling to mount a proper counterattack, shall we test the experiment, sir?" "Yes, let's try

that! Let's see if we can live up to the name 'Silver Warfare', shall we?" The navigator smiled, opening shipwide anouncement "All hands, stear clear of the generator, the silver test is about to start, this is not a drill. I repeat, this is NOT a drill. The test shall commence in 5 minutes" As soon as the announcement was made, the gunner crews started scrambling to prepare the experiment, removing the barrels from the massive cannons, swiftly replacing them with different ones, luckily quickened by advanced machinery, then they loaded special shells into the cannons, taking great care to damage neither. William looked at the battle taking place, balancing him every now and then as a salvo hit them or the cannons fired. "Are we sure it won't overload the generator?" "Yes sir...well, in a way it will, but not in a harmful way, you know what i mean" William nodded, looking at the battlefield and opening the anouncements channel once again "The test is now starting, gunners may fire when ready" As soon as he finished, the cannons fired, blasting immense amounts of strange dust across the entire battlefield, the cannon's barrels were replaced with smoothbore ones, and this dust was actually... Silver As the dust spread around the battlefield, William quickly opened up a pannel at the command terminal, revealing a large lever. After the dust had properly settle around the enemy ships, he pulled the lever... In the generator room, the generator itself started going faster and faster, threatening to completely destroy itself with the extra charge, when suddenly... The entire comparment was slid open to space, revealing a massive gaping hole in the ship leading directly to the generator, this was a weak spot...what was the plan? That became clear as soon as the silver came close to the generator, a violent discharge spread throughout the entirely of the battlefield, travelling throughout the silver and electrocuting everything in its path. Silver, being one of the most conductive metals out there made the perfect choice. The enemy ships were being completely fried, not even able to fire anymore as all of their inhabitant were either busy dropping dead from electrocution or exploding since it was like being hit by a lightningbolt all across the field. William laughed, looking at the chaos "Well, report to Yeshua the test was a complete success! The silver warfare was baptised not by fire, but by lightning!" William laughed again, pushing the lever and closing the generator off. The generator would need a little while to get back up to strenght, but it's not like the enemy could put up any resistance. While the generator charged, the Silver warfare and supporting ships simply took care of all enemy ships, like shooting fish in a barrel. (Welp! that was that c: I'll probably not stick to a REALY schedule, but i promise i won't just DIE like that again without telling anyone! BUT I LIVE! I LIVE! I already have a million ideas for the series, and it'll be more around a band of adventurers moreso than these battles, as you might see i'm not the best at writing those '^^. Feel free to drop critisism, have a very nice day and i hope to see you next time :D)

[makbarnes]

Hate You/ Love you 2

Part 1

It had been a few weeks since the Avengers Night with Bucky and you two had not left the bed if you were being honest. It felt whole. Your heart was still debating it but you could see it in the way he looked at you he really cared for you. 

“Mornin’ Doll.” Bucky’s soft lips moved along your shoulder to press a line of soft kisses against your skin. You moaned against him slightly as his arms pulled you tighter against him. 

“Mmm Good Morning.” You turned around to face him and smiled as he rubbed your noses together. You smiled as his eyes latched to your own and he slowly trailed his fingers against your spine. 

“What do you want to do today?” Bucky kissed your forehead as you drew small circles on his chest to think. 

“How about a bike ride.” 

“Really? I thought you didn’t like the bikes.” 

“No I love them, My dad rode. Steve didn’t want me too, because it was dangerous.” 

“Well by all means Let’s take you for a ride.” Your heart jumped with excitement as Bucky led you out of the bed and helped you dress safely for it. You tugged the jeans up at your hip a bit more before smiling with Bucky behind you. “Follow me.” Bucky led you to his room where he slipped on his boots and jacket that left his metal arm uncovered. Bucky reached up to a shelf in his closet and grabbed an extra helmet he had and adjusted it to your head. Tapping the top of it Bucky took your hand and led you down to the garage where his bike was waiting. You smiled as he grabbed his key from the hook and moved you to rest your hips on the bike’s seat. 

“Ready Baby?” You nodded your head as he slipped his helmet on and bent his neck down to kiss you. Pulling against his jacket your tongue played along his bottom lip causing him to nip at your own. Bucky moved your legs apart and grinded his hips against your own. You twisted your fingers in his belt loops and pulled him closer. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You both laughed at his comment as he sat in front of you and let you get comfortable behind him. Turning the key in the ignition he smiled as he kicked up his stand. “Better Hold on tight, Doll.” You sucked on your bottom lip as your arms tightened around his waist before he sped off out of the compound. The wind whipped your hair as he took a few turns before hitting a straight stretch. Bucky slowed to a steady speed and you relaxed your face against his shoulder. 

“Are you alive back there?” 

“Yes.” Leaning up to his ear you pressed a soft kiss behind it. Bucky holds the bike steady with his metal hand as his other comes down to hold the upper part of your leg. You smile as he takes another curve with ease. You take in a deep breath of the fresh air whipping around you and feel a new person beginning, Your hold becomes tighter against him as he speeds down and into a little parking area surrounded by woods. Flipping off the engine he gets off the bike and carefully takes off his helmet. 

“I wanna show you something.” Bucky holds out his hand for you as you get off of the bike. He helps you with your helmet as you adjust your shirt. 

“Lead the way.” You took his hand as he slightly pulled you with him along a trail. Coming out to an opening full of wildflowers you gasped at the sight of them all. 

“I found this after I had returned from Wakanda. I just went on a drive one day and found it. I’m sure other people come here but...it’s my place, ya know.” 

“I do. I had a place like that until I shared it with Steve and-” 

“Well I’m giving you mine. We can come up here anytime you want or I can even teach you how to ride.” Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you to walk with him. 

“Buck, you don’t have to do all that.” 

“But I do {Y/N}. I’m here to prove to you that I am staying. If you just give me a chance, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“Have the past few days not been an answer for you?” 

“I just wanted to be safe. I was scared that you thought it was a fling or I was just there when you were upset. You are the first girl I’ve liked since everything and Steve had you then. But since he fucked it up, I am hoping I’ll get to keep you forever as my Doll.” 

“Oh, Bucky.” You leaned your head up to lock his lips into a kiss. He tiwised you around to dip you while still holding the kiss. You smiled a bit as his hair tickled your face slightly. Leaning back up Bucky led you to the other side of the field and guided you down to straddle his waist. Your eyes adjusted to the shade as Bucky twisted a few flowers together to form a loose crown around your head. You did the same for him with constant measuring and smiled as he dawned it on his head. You pulled out your phone and snapped a quick selfie posting it on your Instagram. You showed him the post and he smiled. “Now it’s official. I’m your Doll.” Bucky pulled you to lay under him. He pushed a few strands of grass away before kissing you and trailing his mouth over your neck. You felt his teeth dig into your skin as you hips spread for him to easily hover between. Your hands went around his broad shoulders as he sucked a mark to your neck. You arched your head the opposite way as he started to press his hips into you. Moaning softly in his ear his hand teased up your shirt as you moved near his pants button. Bucky shot up quickly and checked his surroundings before taking off both of the jackets  and making a little area for you to lay down against. His hand quickly worked to pop your button on your pants and work them down just enough for his fingers to slip inside of you. Your hand gripped at the back of his neck as his lips attacked your own. Swallowing your moans for him he felt himself growing extremely hard and began to curl his fingers. Your head relaxed against the ground as he adjusted himself out of his pants and worked his tip through your folds for a few seconds. You arched for him to enter you as he leaned over you. Pushing deep inside of you, Bucky covered your moans with his mouth as he plowed against you. 

“You like that Doll? Do you like when I keep you quiet. When nobody can hear me take you apart?” You nodded your head with every question and felt a rise coming over you. Taking his free hand he guided your own down to work over your clit in small circles and chase your finish. “I’d do it myself Doll, But someone has to keep you quiet. Don’t wanna get caught do we?” You threw your head against him as you felt your walls clench around him. You came with your moans covered by his hand. He pushed harder and faster as you rode through your orgasm and replaced his hand with his lips. Bucky pushed your hand away and replaced that with his own metal one as he switched his balance. “I know you can give me another one.” Bucky worked his thumb quickly over your clit. You covered your own mouth while Bucky chased his own finish. This thumb hitting the right motions with his cock deep inside of you had another orgasm ready to crash against you. You held back until Bucky was close with you. Feeling his cock pulsate inside of you, your walls clench around him and had him filling you with his own finish. You kissed his neck as he leaned against you. His hot break covered your skin as he pulled up his own pants. You handed him his jacket after standing up and slipped on your own. Bucky leaned you back slightly and kissed you. 

“That’s my good girl.” You smirked at his comment as you led him back to his bike. As you waited for him to get on your stomach dropped as he moved you to sit on the bike first. He moved himself behind you and made sure you were comfortable. “If this is our spot. Then you need to know how to get home.” Bucky kicked up the stand as you flicked the key to start the engine. Bucky’s hand completely covered your own so He could still easily have full control over the bike. His chin was tucked next to your ear as your ass pressed against him tightly. As Bucky checked the highway you sucked in a deep breath, before pulling out onto the main road. You smiled as the wind filled your clothes and Bucky guided you when to tilt and how to take curves. You noticed the speed rising and tried to keep your focus on him. He weaved the two of you through traffic and you two were soon at the private road for the compound. Bucky let your hands fall to hold yourself still against the frame of the bike as he pulled it back into the garage. You smiled as you both got off and began giggling at some of Bucky’s suggestions for the next ride. As the two of you came upstairs everyone was in the main area with their eyes on you. Waving over at Peter and Natasha you rolled your eyes as Steve came into the room and distracted yourself in the opposite direction. 

“YOU TOOK HER ON A RIDE?!” Steve’s voice echoed against the walls. 

“I didn’t see anything wrong with it.” Bucky’s voice was clam as he carefully moved you behind him to argue back with Steve. 

“I see a lot wrong with it Buck.” 

“Well Sadly you don’t get a say anymore, Pal.” 

“I need to talk to you both about that. Sharon was a mistake. She just wanted me for the publicity and I realize that {Y/N} is right for me..Please. One more chance, Angel?” 

“Back off Steve. You ruined it.” 

“I believe I asked {Y/N}..” Steve looked past Bucky’s shoulder to see you pressed into his back. You took in a deep breath and moved around to stand against Bucky’s front. 

“Look Steve, We just got back from Bucky asking me to be his. I said yes.” 

“Wow. I didn’t know you had a thing for cyborgs?!” Sam chimed up from the kitchen with Bucky quickly throwing him the finger. 

“But {Y/N}, we have almost three years together.” Steve held his hands out to you only for them to be hit away. 

“Ha! Shows how much you really know. It was four.” You scoffed towards him before trying to walk away. Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm to have him stay. You rolled your eyes before Steve continued again. 

“Buck, you’re my best friend. Please man.” Steve gipped Bucky’s shoulder and you could physically see him tense up. Bucky threw Steve’s hand off of him before stepping back towards you. “Fine it will never last anyway.. {Y/N} Don’t come crawling back to me when this is over.” Before you could respond Bucky had lunged forward and punched Steve as hard as he could in the face. Steve lost his balance a bit before catching himself with the couch. 

“Fucking Punk.” Bucky growled out before dragging you to his room and digging out his dog tags. As he adjusted them around your neck his lips formed to a permanent smile that he would always wear when he saw them on you.

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Surprise - Mafia!Leo x Isabella (Mafia AU)

Synopsis: A few surprises are around the corner. Liam and Drake come up with a sure fire plan to get revenge but will this give Leo the opportunity of a lifetime?

TW: Swearing, kidnapping, violence, discussions of violence.

Taglist: @lorirwritesfanfic @kimmiedoo5 @kingliam2019 @lorircreates @secretaryunpaid @rainbowsinthestorm @drakewalkerfantasy @mom2000aggie @rafasgirl23415 @texaskitten30

Chapter 1: Love At A Distance

Chapter 2: The Longest Evening

Chapter 3: Unexpected Turn of Events

Chapter 4: Not Your Fault

Leo’s instinct was immediately to seek revenge but Liam made a strong point - as the Beaumont’s would expect Leo to be ready for blood, a more calculated response would be required. “Leo… you need to listen to me…” the younger Rys brother begged, “It’s imperative that we make it look like your unscathed and unworried of consequence…” Liam licked his dried lips anxiously, his eyes darting toward Drake for backup, “Yeah big guy… Li’s right. You wanna hit them when they least expect it…”Leo sat quietly, listening to both men’s arguments, “So what you’re sayin’ is that we’re sitting ducks? Drake shook his head, “No… You’re not listening, we give the illusion that your open…” Leo raised his brow as Liam continued, “When you two were busy getting…” Liam’s demeanour became more stern as he said the word, “reacquainted…” to emphasise his annoyance due to the lack of sleep he and Drake got, “We thought we could get you across the Monterisso border… once you and the Crown Princess are safely in Amalas’ Kingdom, we can set up a sting…” Leo’s sea green eyes flitted between both men, his expression disapproving. “Sounds all well and good doesn’t it brother, except one small problem…” Leo’s voice raised angrily, “We’re still wide open!”

“Oh contrare…” Liam began to smirk, “Amalas has already agreed to provide what you need so you’re covered in Monterisso, she’ll also have the press on hand to take some strategic media…” The former Crown Prince sucked in his cheeks as Liam began to chuckle, his voice lowering, “…and maybe you can actually do what you planned to do years ago whilst you’re out there…” Leo sat in silence, Liam and Drake look at one another before the Texan couldn’t handle the silence much longer, “Look boss… we got it covered…” he began to smile wickedly, “…we’ll just rough them up a bit, we‘ll wait to you get back for the good stuff… get your girl and go…” Rolling his sea green eyes to the left towards Drake, Leo began to smirk mischievously, “Promise?” prompting all three men into laughter. Attack Leo directly, he could deal with that, but when someone attacked those around him - that was another story and any revenge he would plan would be swift and relentlessly painful “Ok…” Leo finally began to agree, his tattooed hands rubbing against one another, “Sounds like a plan boys, so when do we leave?” Liam threw the former Crown Prince a set of keys, “You already have… there’s a light aircraft waiting in the next field over for you… keep to Monterisso’s ATC frequency once you hit the border but that’s all you need. Who knows, maybe that airforce training you had might come in handy for once!”

“What’s the matter beautiful?” Leo grinned as he held open the door of the small plane, slowly removing his sunglasses with a beaming smile, “You not trust me?” Isabella was apprehensive as expected but watching Leo’s smile broaden, her apprehension slowly dissipated. “I always do…” she giggled, “but… are you sure you can fly this thing?” causing Leo to laugh, “It’s been a while…” he slapped her backside playfully before closing the door, “…but I’m sure I can get the hang of it…” the Crown Princess’ dark chocolate brown eyes widened whilst all Leo could do was laugh. Patting her thigh gently, Leo chuckled, “Don’t worry doll… I gotcha…” as he started to press a few buttons and flicked a few switches. The sound of the engine rattled the metal frame a little but once they gained momentum and became airborne, it was pretty calm. “It’s so calm and peaceful up here…” Isabella turned to meet Leo, her long dark tumbling tresses fell over her shoulder as she smiled warmly toward him. “It would be nice…” she began to sigh, “If down there could be the same…” biting down onto her lip. Reaching out, the former Crown Prince placed his tattooed hand onto hers, “It’ll be over soon sweetheart if I have anything to do with it…”

Drake sat on his phone quietly scrolling to pass the time as Liam paced back and forth in the rented hotel suite. “You think this will work Li?” Drake mumbled, his head still in his phone. “Yeah…” Liam reached into his woollen coat, removing a small tin, rolling himself a cigarette before lighting it with the strike of a match. “He comes here every week without fail… same room… same whore…” Liam peered out the between the curtains, “He’s pretty predictable…” Drake raised his brow, finally taking his eyes from the screen, “You can say that again…” The younger Rys brother stepped away with a smirk, “…right on time, that horny bastard…” prompting a devilish snort from Drake trying to hold back his laughter, “You’re a bad man Li…” not long after, Liam and Drake heard the key card beep, keeping themselves out of sight but close enough to jump on Maxwell. With Liam approaching from the front, Maxwell tried to leave only to be blocked by Drake’s tall muscular frame, “Goin’ somewhere Beaumont?” Drake began to evilly smirk, “Think the boss wants a lil word with you, he ain’t too happy…” staring as Maxwell’s usual cocky bravado slowly faded. “Drake!” He raised his hands up, “I swear… I had no choice…” Liam took a step forward leaving Maxwell feeling claustrophobic. In his calm and measured tone, Liam began to speak, “Maxwell…” he spoke cementing his authority, “…You know you crossed a line…” As Maxwell tried to fight his way out from between the two men, they easily subdued him. Gritting his teeth, Maxwell cursed out both Drake and Liam.

“Gimme those fucking cable ties…” Drake barked, trying to keep Maxwell in a firm hold as he closed them up to keep the younger Beaumont brother’s hands behind his back but all Liam could do was laugh, “Oh Maxwell…” He began to sigh, “You could have just made this easy for all of us… but you had to go and make things difficult didn’t you…” Maxwell gritted his teeth angrily, spitting towards Liam, “You bastards should have fucking burned!” Liam had heard enough, raising his fist, his knuckles meeting Maxwell’s jaw, watching as he fell towards the floor. “I suppose Barthelemy didn’t teach you any manners or humility…” shoving Maxwell onto his side with his expensive Italian leather shoe. Liam’s ocean blue eyes met Drake’s, “Get him out of here…” he bluntly replied, lighting up another cigarette, “Get him out of my sight…” As Drake began to pull Maxwell up, Liam lowered himself to Maxwell’s eye line, “Let’s hope daddy dearest and big brother Bertrand will come save you soon before Leo gets back… because you’re going to…” reaching out he grabbed his shirt collar, pulling up upwards as Liam rose again to his tall stature, his face and mouth contorted with anger, “…fucking need it!” A grunt came from Liam’s throat upon hearing knocking at the hotel room door with a giggle coming from the other side. Immediately the former Prince removed his gun placing it against Maxwell’s temple. “You say one word…” Liam cocked the pistol as he nodded to Drake who opened the door with a smile to find Maxwell’s acquaintance outside. “Sorry honey…” he smirked, “He’s a little preoccupied… why don’t you take this…” handing her a roll of cash, “…and get yourself somethin’ real nice…”

Leo carefully landed the plane into a small abandoned airfield in Monterisso as instructed by Amalas who met them there with a warm smile, “Good afternoon…” she purred taking off her sunglasses, “I’m surprised you got as far as you did with that rust bucket…” Leo began to laugh, running his fingers through his sandy blonde mane, “It was ok… I’ve flown worse… sure not all of us have our little drone army…” Amalas pursed her lips together and with a click of her tongue she replied dryly, “Those drones are what are going to monitor your villa over the next few days… so if I were you, I’d get used to it…” Leo nodded quietly, not knowing how to feel that surveillance would actually try to help them but he knew he had no choice. Amalas gestured towards the waiting car behind hers before she sat back down in the chauffeur driven car, her sunglasses returned to her face, she looked back towards the couple with a sly grin, “Enjoy Monterisso…” before her car departed, not long after Leo and Isabella’s car brought them to the cosy villa on the beachfront. It was luxury. Marble from floor to ceiling, expansive gardens and a stunning view of the ocean. The Laurentian beauty began to smile as she felt Leo’s arms wrap around her small waist, his lips tenderly kissing the crown of her head, “What ya think doll? You like it?” Isabella turned her head to meet his gaze with a beaming grin, “It’s beautiful!” She exclaimed, happily enjoying the moment between them, “You want it, it’s yours kitten…” he mumbled, pressing his lips against her hair.

The petite brunette couldn’t believe how far the former Crown Prince went; dinner reservations were made, new clothes for the evening were sent at his call - everything was ran like clockwork. Just because Leo was no longer technically Royalty, those who knew of his reputation were fully aware what the sandy haired Cordonian was capable of. With a snap of his fingers, the former Crown Prince demanded the best table in the house, all eyes were on him and the Laurentian beauty who comfortably had her hand resting against his muscular bicep. They were out in the open, without a care in the world. The paparazzi’s flash caught Leo’s eye once or twice but it was only a minor inconvenience. Isabella fluttered her long, dark eyelashes, staring across the table towards the sandy haired Cordonian, “mi amor…” she began to sigh happily, “This is wonderful…” her smile widening as Leo nodded towards the waiter quietly before pouring the Crown Princess a glass of champagne. “Glad you like it sweets… be nice just us for a few days…” Leo smirked. As dinner finished, dessert was served. The former Crown Prince had another trick up his sleeve for the evening.

Isabella’s eyes widened at the sight. Leo knew the Crown Princess had been feeling a little homesick - so he ensured that the restaurant have her favourite dessert from home served. A tart tatin made with pears, honey and almonds, served with crème anglais. Leo couldn’t help but chuckle watching as her eyes began to well up, “Don’t cry cutie…” his tattooed hand reached over, brushing her cheek gently, “I thought after everything recently you needed a lil’ pick me up…” A slight blush grew across the petite brunettes cheeks, bashfully smiling at the gesture. She was homesick. She was sick of most things but not him. Everywhere she went, anywhere she turned, brought some form of danger but when Isabella was with Leo, she didn’t feel as frightened anymore. Whilst everyone else was plotting to kill her because of her outspoken views on the Via Imperii, the former Crown Prince only wanted to protect her. Without the Laurentian beauty noticing, Leo reached into his blazer jacket to remove a small, bright red ring box, setting it firmly in front of her.

“Marry me…” Leo’s voice was calm and measured as Isabella’s dark chocolate brown eyes flickered upwards towards him before looking back down at the Cartier box. Opening the box, her breath immediately hitched, staring at the perfect Emerald cut diamond ring with smaller diamonds flanked across the band. “May I?” Leo lifted his brow before reaching out, taking the ring from the box to place gently onto her finger with a chuckle, “Many a time I wish for the silent treatment Kitten, but right now it isn’t it…” biting down onto her plump lower lip, Isabella nodded smiling brightly, replying, “Sí…” in a breathy whisper, the Crown Princess stunned with flashes of light coming through the window. Cupping her face in his tattooed hands, Leo kissed the Laurentian beauty gently before leaning back into his seat and drinking a mouthful of scotch providing those around him with a blink and you’d miss it glimpse of his softer side. No one else in the restaurant dared comment for fear of what Leo might do, but that’s what he wanted. To remind those around him that this is his girl and he won’t tolerate his fiancée being messed around.

“Is that you?” Drake’s brow raised as he glared at Liam, “Sorry…” he began to chuckle over the sounds of rusty old chains clattering, “I didn’t think I’d get signal down here…” Fumbling through his coat, Liam took out his mobile phone, answering with a smile, “Hey big guy… are you two? That’s great news! Now that you mention it…” Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly, his lips curling upwards into a smirk, “We’ve got the best engagement present here…” Drake laughed as he began to taunt Maxwell, Bertrand and Barthelemy, “Looks like Leo’s finally has the jewel in your family’s crown after all…” pissing the Beaumont’s off even more as they screamed blue murder towards the commoner in attempts to remind him off his place. “Last time I checked old man…” Drake sneered, “none of you are grander than anyone else here…” Liam laughed loudly as the sounds of the chains rattled in the background before continuing his conversation, “I’ll send your regards brother. They’re dying to be reacquainted and I’m sure are looking forward to see what you have in store for them…”

[theblekromantik]

somewhere new

Erik Stevens x Black Reader

a/n: hello lovelies, i hope you’re well and i hope that you enjoy this! i’ve been experimenting with writing lately, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

summary: you and Erik go decide to go grocery shopping, but you switch things up a little

warnings: fluff-ish with some sexual tension and implied smut

word count: 3189

A booming,

“Yo, ma!”

Accompanied by a knock at the door rattles you, causing you to drop your eyelash into the sink. Your good, very expensive eyelash that requires much focus in order to be applied to your upper lash line.

Grunting and twinging your face in disgust of the sight before you, you fish it out of the sink, blowing on it to determine if the glue is still salvageable.

“Come on, E! Five minutes!” You respond with your mouth slightly parted, a strange requirement for impeccable eyelash placement.

“Princess, we gotta hurry up before the store closes,” Erik protests, pulling up his sleeve to check his diamond-encrusted AP watch. It’s almost seven o’clock, and Erik hated shopping minutes before a store closed. It made him feel like he was being rushed to gather his items and head to the register.

You and Erik frequently ran errands together, only this time you were grocery shopping. Staying in was nice and all – really quite enjoyable – but an end had to come to the endless Netflix bingeing and takeout from your favorite spots. You both, mainly Erik, decided that it was time for a nutritious, home-cooked meal, one that wouldn’t lead you down a road of clogged arteries and hypertension. But Erik was a phenomenal chef, so you could hardly complain that your ongoing DoorDash expenditure had been interrupted.

“Damn! One second!” You holler. “One second…there.”

You step back and look into the mirror, admiring yourself. Thirty minutes of hard work and determination had really paid off! You grab your phone from the sink’s surface and proceed to snap some photos of yourself.

SHUTTER! SHUTTER! SHUTTER! SHUTTER!

Beauty must always be captured, no matter what the time restraint.

“Princess! You taking pictures in there?” The dreaded man pounds on the door, harder this time. Banging, nearly shaking the hinges out of the door until you swing it open.

And there you are, dolled up and all, from the 26-inch deep wave hair to the Adidas tracksuit, the top zipped down nearly to the level of exposing the full extent of your breasts. Just the way you liked it.

Erik can hardly contain himself as he looks further down at you, ogling how your recently-manicured toes fit perfectly between each slot of your sandals. Man, he knew you were one for dressing up, but to the grocery store? Maybe he needs to step his game up.

“Well?” You jest. “You were so loud banging on the door, you got nothing to say now?”

Catching his lip underneath his teeth, he smugly looks you over once more, trying to gather words to say, for you’ve left him speechless.

He inches closer to you, “My babygirl likes to talk back, huh?”

“Yup, she do,” Boldness courses through you, nearly shattered as you maintain eye contact with your boyfriend.

His eyes were boulders, but you were just as unyielding. This game the two of you liked to play – this perpetual exchange of power – rarely ever ended with you emerging victorious. And you knew this, but you wanted to have your fun.

Finally, though smirkingly, you divert your gaze to your phone, shuffling through your gallery to decide which photos to keep, which photos to delete, and which photos to post.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” Erik chuckles after pressing a kiss onto your lips. “Now let’s go.”

While you knew you had lost the battle in the bathroom, you couldn’t wait to enjoy the war you and Erik would have in the bedroom later.

–

“Shotgun!” Erik shouted as you were fumbling in your purse for your keys, making a sprint for the car through your apartment complex’s parking lot.

The sun was setting beneath the horizon, and it illuminated the sky a burnt orange, a hue that began to embellish the surfaces of each object it touched – buildings, vehicles, windows, trees, the reflective skin of Erik’s custom-designed Air Max 97s as he raced further away from you.

After some time, your nimble fingers reach the item of your search, which results in a chime. You pull the keys out, contemplating whether to unlock the car doors for dreaded man in order to relieve him from the heat of the California sun, or let him suffer. Though it was setting, this sun still could extract a cup of sweat from one’s body. But hey, Erik was grown, he could wait.

You strut up to the car to see your boyfriend leaning on the door, panting, condensation forming on his forehead.

You release a sound of triumph, “I was gonna drive anyway.”

The car unlocks with a chirp, and you open the door and sit down. Dumbfounded, Erik was clutching the hood of the car still, trying to catch his breath.

“You getting in, or…”

He opens the car door and slumps down into the seat.

“You didn’t have to have a nigga looking dumb, baby.”

“I don’t think you need me for that, E.”

Erik snickers, “So it’s like that?”

“Yeah, it’s like that,” you tease, pressing the car to start and reversing out of the lot.

The two of you were buckling in for a long evening, and quite frankly, you couldn’t wait to see how it would progress.

–

As you drive on the road, the city and all its structures – both new and old – vanish behind you as a multitude of cool currents of air whip into the car through the windows, blowing your hair in all sorts of directions.

The vehicle vibrates as you blast a playlist full of new releases through your aux, and Erik grips your thigh as he sings to you, gold canines flashing and all.

You gently place your foot on the break, easing the car to a stop before the upcoming red light.

Erik, nearly louder than the music, starts to grind on the seat à la Magic Mike, and you couldn’t help but to laugh at the dreaded man and his silliness, a behaviour that is a pleasant break from his usual brooding nature.

But your laughter is cut short by a car honking behind you, indicating that the light had just turned green. You roll your eyes, because it had literally just turned green, and you press on the gas, revving your vehicle to the speed limit.

You pass another number of buildings a before making a sharp left turn.

“Shit!” You mumble to yourself.

You had almost missed the turn.

“Babygirl, that wasn’t the turn. Where we going?” Erik questions, for the route you’re taking was not your usual one.

“A little change of plans. I wanted to go somewhere else this time.”

“’Somewhere else’?” Erik probes. “What’s wrong with Ralph’s?!”

Now this took Erik by surprise. He’s genuinely concerned about your decision. To him, Ralph’s is King.

“Nothing, just wanna try something different.”

Your boyfriend clutches his heart, feigning a heart attack. You snort and turn into the parking lot. Both the wind and the car’s engine settle as you drive into a spot and press the vehicle off.

“Trader Joe’s?!” Erik cries. “What they got up in there?”

You exit the car, grabbing your purse from the backseat. “Stop complaining. Let’s go.”

–

If boredom could be personified, it’s spitting image would be Erik, for he rests his forearms on the bar of the shopping cart, eyes drooping as he observes the eccentric packaging of Trader Joe’s products.

Picking up a container of salsa he says, “Why all this shit organic?”

But you just suck your teeth and let him sulk behind the cart, ignoring him and all his grumbling.

“And this,” His gaze sets upon another display, “Who the fuck needs all these types of dried fruit? Probably taste like tumbleweed anyway.”

“Yo, stop moaning and groaning over there,” You shoot back at him, grabbing two packages of dried mangoes and placing them into the cart.

But Erik persists, dragging his feet across the smooth, concrete floor.

Minding the grocery list you and Erik had created earlier on your phone, you head deeper into the produce section, searching for some leafy greens and other ingredients that would contribute toward Erik’s signature salad. He walks off with the cart, gathering some tomatoes and bell peppers before making his way into another section of the store.

You, on the other hand, stand in front of the illuminated display with every type of green you could think of: arugula, kale, spinach, and lettuce, just to name a few. Reaching in, you squish some of the bags in order to determine their freshness. And you grab some kale and return to your shopping partner, who was waiting patiently for you, his previous protesting done with.

Looking down at the list on your phone, there wasn’t that much left for you all to grab, just some seasonings that were essential for the completion of any dish. There’re so many to choose from, and quite frankly, you’d just grab them all if you weren’t on a budget. So, you place a couple in the cart. And when you look up again, there Erik is, a pouty look on his face.

“Birthday cake popcorn?” Erik suggests, holding up the multicoloured item.

“Put it in the cart,” You giggle, maneuvering to a checkout line with the least amount of people.

The line becomes shorter and shorter, with customers paying and leaving with their large brown bags. And before you know it, the cashier shouts, “Next!” and moves to take your cart.

“Find everything okay?” The cashier asks, briefly glancing up at the two of you before moving to scan the items in your cart.

“Yes, thank you,” you respond, blankly staring as more items appeared on the customer screen and the worker transferred your groceries into the bags adjacent to the register.

Erik, standing beside you, wraps his right pinky finger against your left one, linking the two of you before you adjust to hold his entire hand. He grips your waist and pulls you in to kiss your lips and lingers there for a short while, eyes boring into yours while also relishing the traces of your chocolate-flavoured lip gloss that had found its way to onto his tongue.

You’re flustered, of course, but not because he hadn’t kissed you this intensely before, but because you were reminded that you were still at the grocery store, for the cashier cleared their throat awkwardly, repeating the total cost you had missed in your fleeting moment of passion.

Scratching your neck, hoping to relieve the embarrassment that that crept up your spine, you ask, “I’m sorry, how much is it?”

To which the cashier responds, “That’s $43.96.”

“I got it, bae,” Erik interjects, pulling out his wallet and handing a crisp yet folded fifty-dollar bill to the worker.

And while the cashier hands Erik the change, you grab the red cart and head toward the exit but not before thanking them. A few steps behind, Erik acknowledges another cashier – the only Black cashier – with a head nod and a knowing smile, to which the cashier nods, shrugs, and returns the grin: the shared feeling of being the only Black person in the room. The automatic doors open, reintroducing the cool evening air upon your face and hair, and the rubber wheels of the cart greet the smooth pavement.

When you reach the cart return, Erik grabs all of the bags while you fit the cart among the lines of carts already present. The two of you begin to walk to your parked vehicle but instead accidentally stumble upon on one with a similar make and model to your own but was not yours.

“I swore I parked right here,” you huff, standing on the balls of your feet, searching the sea of identical cars in the well-lit parking lot. And the fact that there were so many other last-minute shoppers did not help your plight either.

“Lemme see the keys,” Erik says, intrigue in his voice. “I wanna see something.”

You hand him the keys to the car, and he places them under his chin, pressing the unlock button repeatedly.

“That doesn’t actually work, does it?” You quiz, doubt heavy on your words.

“We have to see.”

Supposedly, this little trick should increase the bandwidth of the key’s signal, using one’s head as a sort of antenna. But after a couple clicks, you hear nothing besides traffic on the neighbouring streets.

Pointless, you think, just wanting to hurry up and head home.

But then, you hear a series of chirps in the distance and Erik yipping about the fact.

“Over there,” Erik says, nodding his head toward the source of the noise.

He picks up the bags, and you both head to the vehicle.

–

Shutting the door to your car, you release a sigh. Finally, the bags are all placed on the floor of your car, and you can finally head home.

With your foot on the break, you reach to push the car to start but then Erik yelps, “Wait! I wanna try those mango joints.”

“Oh, now you wanna try them,” You jest, “Because if I can remember, you were just–”

“–Man,” Erik interrupts, reaching to the backseat and rummaging through the bags. “Found it.”

He surveys the clear package titled “Soft & Juicy Mango” with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips curled, a slight repugnance that he couldn’t even help hide. But ripping the bag open, his expression softens as the aroma fills his nostrils, the sweet, tropical scent soothing him.

You watch, rolling your eyes, as Erik cautiously lowers his fingers into the package. One would think that the former Navy Seal wouldn’t be so dramatic over something like trying a new food, but Erik never ceases to amaze you.

Mango slice in hand, Erik purses his lips as he brings it to his mouth, slowly. Tortuously. And chews, his head cocked to the side.

“Wait,” he says as he swallows the last bit. “These bitches smack!”

You release a sound of disbelief, start the vehicle, and pull into the street, heading home. Of course the mangoes were delicious.

–

The sound of the car door closing can be heard as you and Erik finish grabbing all the groceries and head to the entrance of your apartment building. Your boyfriend opens the door for you, his veiny forearm braced on it and towering above you as you enter.

“Damn, ma! You getting thick!” He hollers as he watches the sway of your hips in your fitted bottoms.

You feel your cheeks warm up as you push some hair behind your air. You had been getting thick.

The lobby as you pass through is empty except for the security guard looking down at a glow coming from their lap and a couple of young people with white wires cascading down from their ears, bopping their heads to music that you can hear but not quite make out specific lyrics.

You and Erik find your way inside the elevator, the flickering fluorescents easing you back home, a stark difference from the glaringly bright ones at Trader Joe’s. Erik presses the round “4”, and the aluminum doors begin to close before you, you staring ahead while Erik sneaks a glance at you, smirking before redirecting his gaze toward the sliding metal.

Watching the line of numbers flash as the lift ascends from the ground floor, you turn to Erik, kissing him softly on the lips, closing your eyes and feeling a tingling sensation coursing into him through you. An electrical current that ceases to meet its end, ravishing you both entirely.

And with a ding, the elevator doors open and there you and Erik are, standing chest to chest in the moment, biting your lips like a couple of anxious teenagers on a first date. You pull away from him, keys in hand, heading for the apartment while Erik watches you.

God, how did he get so lucky? You were a treasure to him, and not only because you were so extraordinary but the little things: how you treated him so tenderly and with love yet wouldn’t hesitate to call him out when he was acting like a fool, and how you were so receptive to him as he was to you. These were all things that he scarcely experienced, if he ever experienced them at all. You helped him learn how to love and to receive love, which is an astonishing feat that many cannot confess that they’ve accomplished for themselves. And as you look back at him and smile while you unlock the door, he feels a bit weak in the knees, your electricity overwhelming him once more. You’ve got him hooked, and he loves it. He’s entirely entranced by you, and he doesn’t mind.

You open the door and are welcomed by your apartment, which is completely shrouded in darkness, save for the streetlights, the headlights of passing cars, and the last sliver of the orange evening sky before it is overcome by those distant stars in the night sky.

“Whew,” you exhale, flipping on the light switch and opening the door wider.

Erik sets the bags down on the countertops and approaches you.

“What are you–” you begin, but Erik is sliding his arms around your midsection and turning you to him. He presses his forehead against yours, twirling the ends of your hair and breathes you in and attaches his lips to yours, gently, truly wanting to savour this moment and you in this moment.

He pulls away, slowly, and confesses for the first time aloud, “I love you,” in a voice no louder than a whisper in a public library, to which you respond, “I love you, too.”

And the two of you remain like this for a few moments, staring into each other’s eyes, not even letting the ever-busy late-night traffic rattle you.

“So,” he starts, “About earlier in the bathroom…”

“Yeah, what about it?” You respond, seduction laced in your words.

“I’m thinking we need to address that.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yup,” Erik answers, popping the “p”.

“And what about the groceries?”

“They’ll be a’ight.”

“Hm,” You sound, lacing your hand with his and walking the both of you to your shared bedroom.

Erik walks towards you, making you both fall on the bed. And the dreaded man begins pecking at your neck, travelling up to the bone of your jaw and landing once again on your plump lips. He swipes his finger down them, and repeats, “I love you.”

You stand up to close the door, while Erik sits up, waiting on you to return to him. You cradle his head in your hands while you kiss him, deeper, all that former tenderness left at the door. And stripping him of his shirt, his impatient fingers also dance to the zipper of your top, lowering it. He slides the jacket over your shoulders as you kneel on the bed to straddle him. But before you could grind down on his crotch, Erik grips your hips and flips you onto your back, the sudden movement bouncing your body on the bed after it meets the comforter.

“Not so fast, babygirl.”

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Boku no Hero Academia - Safe In My Arms

I apparently only wrote two drabbles for my Patreon in 2020, but given the state of the world at the time, I hope I’m forgiven for that. A new year is here, however, and that means last year’s writing can now be seen by all of you! If you want to see more stories like this before next year, then consider pledging to my Patreon!

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Shinsou Hitoshi

Rating: Teen Audiences

Summary:  Present Mic runs one of the biggest radio shows in Japan and it's common knowledge that his phone is firmly turned off during broadcasts -- except for the numbers he allows through.  When one of those numbers calling is a familiar student, Hizashi knows that his night is about to get a lot more serious.

Word Count: 2,239

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“Goood evening my dear listeners! Welcome to another show of Put Your Hands Up Radio! here with your wild and favorite pro hero Present Mic as your host! Tonight, for those of you who remember our last show, we’re talking all about Quirks! Rare quirks, weird quirks, creepy quirks, villain quirks, hero quirks and everything in between! 

“So grab those phones, get our number ready to go, and call in with questions, stories, and your wildest quirk-related memories. And remember, we here at Put Your Hands Up Radio! are not responsible for any slapping, hitting, punching, kicking, and-or screaming that happens if you rat someone out on live air. Choose your victims wisely, dear listeners, and remember that this show broadcasts to all of Japan. 

“First, though, we’re gonna start things off like we always do by rocking and rolling! Keep those hands of yours up and those cheers wild as we start the night off right! Here’s Telecaster Stripes by POLKADOT STINGRAY!” 

Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, couldn’t stop his grin as he flicked the right switches in order, killing his mic and switching on the first song of the night all without even a second of dead air. The music filled his headphones and studio in a heartbeat, Hizashi feeling something in him relax as he was right where he belonged — well. As he was in one of the places where he belonged. 

Looking back to where his sound engineer was keeping everything in order in the booth, Hizashi grinned and slipped his headphones off, rolling his chair over to tap on the glass. The unamused look he was given was wonderful, truly, “C’mon, Suki-chan, it’s another beautiful night and we get to stay up through all of it and make as much noise as we want!”

Takada Suki, his first radio intern turned sound engineer turned unofficial manager of the station flicked the switch that would allow him to hear her. “Aizawa-san said to take your medicine after your introduction.” Before Hizashi could lie and say he forgot it, Suki was holding up a familiar, hated bottle. “He dropped it off when he, unfortunately, dropped you off.”

“Hmph,” Hizashi grumbled, rolling over to open the door that led into her side of the booth and catching the bottle of pills and water she then threw at him. “Remember when you were still starstruck and feared me? Can’t we go back to that?”

“I wasn’t starstruck, I was horrified that my boss was someone who was barely out of school. I was also afraid we’d go under and I wouldn’t get my credits for class.” Suki was smiling anyways, Hizashi snorting as he took his stupid medicine and then rolled back into his side of the booth, song starting to come to an end.

Ready to put himself back on air, Hizashi froze as he felt his phone buzzing inside his pocket and that… wasn’t good. Hizashi always muted his phone during his shows and only a few calls could even get through — and those that could call would know better than to call during a live show unless… 

Hizashi raised his hand, looking at Suki and waiting until her attention snapped towards him, “Possible emergency. Take over and play the first set list and say we’re sorting through the stories sent by email to start with.” 

“Yessir!” Jerking off the headphones he had only just put on, Hizashi stood up and dragged out his phone and felt his heart stutter at seeing the caller ID of Shinsou Hitoshi. “Welcome back to Put Your Hands Up! radio and, yes, you might have noticed I’m not your wild and carefree Present Mic, but that’s okay because we’re gonna keep the party going until he gets back! Come on, listeners, I wanna be able to hear your rocking all the way from here! We’re kicking things off with-”

Hizashi didn’t waste a heartbeat in answering, immediately heading for the door to get some silence, knowing the show was in good hands with Suki. “‘Toshi? Hey, what’s up, kiddo? Is something wrong?” 

Shinsou Hitoshi had been training with Shouta for almost half a year to get into the hero course and to say the two were stupidly fond of the kid would be putting it lightly. The fact that they were starting to talk to his caseworker about possibly being put into a different foster home, well, Hitoshi didn’t need to know that part quite yet. It was a surprise, after all.

The problem was that Hitoshi never called. He texted, sent videos, sent photos of stray cats, and used emojis more than Hizashi ever did, but he didn’t call. The fact he was calling now during the middle of his show? It couldn’t be anything good. The problem, though, was that Hitoshi wasn’t saying anything. All Hizashi could hear was soft breathing over the line before he had a short heart attack at having his phone buzz against his ear. 

“Hitoshi? Kiddo? Hey, are you there? Is everything alright?” Hizashi prayed to everything out there that it was just an accidental dial of his phone. “‘Toshi?” It took two more buzzes before Hizashi grit his teeth and checked his phone, ready to be annoyed but instead frowning at seeing incoming text messages from Hitoshi. 

Pulling them up, Hizashi frowned at the messages, a mess of typos that spoke of shaking hands and the message that Hitoshi was outside of the station in the right alleyway and he… didn’t know where else to go… 

Feeling his heart stutter to a stop for an eternity, Hizashi was running before he could even think the action through, bursting through the front doors of the radio station and ignoring anyone who tried to get him to slow down. It felt like too long before he was skidding around the corner to see Hitoshi curled up on the ground with his head tucked between his legs. The kid was holding on limply to his phone and Hitoshi could see tremors running through his shoulders.  

“‘Toshi? Hey, kiddo, it’s me, Hizashi.” Approaching slowly and careful to make noise so Hitoshi would know exactly where he was coming from, Hizashi knelt in front of him. A quick glance showed that there, thankfully, didn’t seem to be any broken bones. His clothing was crumpled and torn in some places, but nothing that screamed of an outright villain attack. There weren’t any blood trails either, so that at least meant he hadn’t suffered any blood loss. 

Hanging up his phone and shoving it away, Hizashi carefully and slowly rested a hand on Hitoshi’s shoulder, not surprised when he felt the teen tense up even more. It hadn’t taken a genius to see the kid’s past screamed of abuse. Leaving his hand there, Hizashi frowned as Hitoshi didn’t relax. If anything, he seemed to get even more tense, which was… 

They knew Hitoshi didn’t live in a good home. It was one of the reasons they were talking to his caseworker because Hizashi knew, and he was certain Shouta did too, that it had been a long time since the two had seen Hitoshi as just another student. Hizashi wasn’t surprised that, due to all of that, he felt ready to scream at something with how his nerves felt like they were being shredded. 

What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was his years and years of experience and battle instincts screaming at him that something was wrong. Hizashi had long ago learned to not doubt his instincts. 

“‘Toshi, you have to tell me what’s wrong,” Hizashi said quietly — quietly, but firmly. Whatever was going on was more than just a bad fight with his family or some neighborhood kids being pieces of shit. If it was the former, Hitoshi would have called Shouta after finding a safe place to hide away. Running all the way to the radio station and then calling Hizashi on air, however? That was a desperate scream for help. “You can sign it out, if you need to, but I need to know-” 

Few things in life made Hizashi speechless. As a talkative child, a hero who was known for his voice, and a man with a radio show, there was hardly a time, if ever, that Hizashi found himself rendered speechless. 

Seeing a child he was beginning to see as his own with a rusted muzzle locked around his face, well… That did it. 

Hizashi was, once again, barely aware he was even moving before he found himself pulling Hitoshi close to him, fumbling with the straps of the fucking muzzle with his phone dialing and on speaker beside him. Hizashi had already cut open at least two of his fingers by the rusted fucking metal by the time the call connected, Hizashi hearing the familiar voice of Shouta’s Hero Agency secretary, “Hello, this is-”

“This is Yamada Hizashi, known as Voice Hero Present Mic calling in for an emergency. Please contact Eraserhead and have him call me as quickly as possible.” 

The secretary, a former student of theirs who knew them both rather well, didn’t say a word before the call was ending, Hizashi swearing as he finally managed to break the straps, sliding the muzzle off of Hitoshi’s face before throwing it against the brick wall with as much force as he could throw into it. He made a mental note to go back and find it later so he could turn it into scrap metal. 

“Why.” The word was quiet. It was quiet, but it was harder and sharper than Shouta’s scarf could ever be. It wasn’t a question, though, and that knowledge alone had Hizashi wanting to just scream. “Why do you even care.”

They were bitter words. The words were soaked in years of pain and torment and Hizashi caught the barest glimpse of his kid’s face. Razor thin cuts lined his jaw and cheeks, blood welling up along all of them. Tears mixed in with the blood and it had to be so painful, but the look on Hitoshi’s face could only be called wrathful. Hizashi didn’t blame him. 

Sitting back for a moment, Hizashi stared at Hitoshi, a terrified kid who met his gaze without even flinching. There were a million things he could have said, but Hizashi knew that not a single word would get through. Hitoshi was as stubborn as Shouta, after all, but, that was good. That meant that while words might not work, actions would. 

Slowly, so slowly, Hizashi took Hitoshi’s hand. When the teen didn’t jerk away or try to fight or yell at him, Hizashi lifted the hand to his own cheek. He could see Hitoshi’s confusion and wariness, but Hizashi merely shifted the hand until fingertips brushed against old, faint scars that were a reflection of the ones in front of him. 

Hizashi could see the moment it hit, Hitoshi’s eyes growing wide as he pressed against the faded muzzle scars on Hizashi’s own face. It felt like an impossible task, but Hizashi finally managed a small, genuine smile.

“This may not explain why I care, but it might help to start explaining it,” Hizashi said softly, watching as Hitoshi’s shoulders shook. This time, it wasn’t in fear. “The muzzle… it was from your foster house, wasn’t it?” Because those people were not his family and Hizashi would never let Hitoshi call that place a home. 

Hitoshi, instead of verbally answering, only stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. He wasn’t denying it, and Hizashi knew well enough what that meant. “Oh, Hitoshi…” For a moment, Hizashi couldn’t help but let some of his own bitterness sneak in, “Voice quirks can be seen as pretty dangerous, huh?”

It wasn’t even a second before Hitoshi was in his lap and hanging onto him tightly, Hizashi returning the grip and tucking Hitoshi close. He had always planned on telling Hitoshi about his own childhood one day, but god if this wasn’t the worst way to do it. As far as he was concerned whoever wanted this kid would have to pry him out of his cold, dead hands. 

The sound of a familiar ringtone had Hizashi snatching his phone and answering without even looking at the ID, shoving the phone between his ear and shoulder as he tucked his kid closer, rubbing at Hitoshi’s back. “Hizashi? What’s wrong?” 

“Call Hitoshi’s caseworker as soon as your patrol ends,” Hizashi said quietly, giving a soft, peaceful hum of a tune as he felt Hitoshi’s breath start to hitch. “I have a feeling our request is going to be approved as soon as you do.” 

And he knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. He would have to tell Shouta exactly what had happened, he needed to find out exactly what had happened from Hitoshi, and he needed to get Hitoshi home where it would be nice and quiet and safe. There was definitely going to be all kinds of paperwork, and he would have to explain his absence from that night’s show, but… 

None of it seemed to really matter when he heard Hitoshi, breathing uneven and hands shaking, manage a whisper-soft, “Thank you.”

“Always,” Hizashi responded, closing his eyes for a moment. There would be work to do, but for now his son was safe in his arms. 

Hizashi was going to make sure that never change.

[whumpiary]

whumptober 2020 | day 2: collars (in the hands of the enemy)

 i wasn’t originally going to post this because it doesn’t quite fit with the day’s theme, but now it’s three days later, and i still liked it on the edit so i’m posting it dammit and fuck you to the little anxiety monster.

set in the future. the vaguest of references to the characters of @evermetnotforgotten and @card-games-and-pain

content warnings: referenced captivity, panic attack, mild d!ssociat!on, mild flashbacks, semi-unresolved sticky feelings

-

It’s the strangest thing. He hasn’t thought about it in so long. In years. It’s easy not to think about it. It’s easy to lock parts of what happened to him up. He has to a lot of the days. But that’s easing. 

Thalia is helping. The therapist. He doesn’t call her the therapist and she doesn’t call herself the therapist but that’s what she is and they both know it. Either way, she does help. Is helping. 

But they’re in a pet store. Mal and him. Just stopped by to get some litter and food for Mal and Lou’s cats on the way by, and Cass sees the collars and he reaches out his hand…

He closes his eyes and for a moment he’s not in a pet store. He’s not anywhere at all. He opens them again and he’s in a pet store but his is heart racing and there are memories in his head he doesn’t want and fear in his legs that he doesn’t need and disgust on his tongue that he can’t shift and —

He reminds himself to breathe. He reminds himself of the things Thalia says. He reminds himself to ground his feet, he reminds himself to let his shoulders relax so he can breathe, he can breathe, he can breathe. He reminds himself to find Mal, even though he can’t find the other man’s eyes and then –

“I’m just gonna meet you at the car, is that okay?”

Mal looks at him and something in him changes and Cass knows he’s been seen. Mal gets this softness about him that used to prickle, used to burn, but right now it just… washes Cass clean. It helps him breathe, feels like protection. Thalia’s been helping.

Mal nods. “Yeah, mate. Of course.”

He ends up taking a walk. He walks around the back of the building and he keeps walking along the wall of the shopping complex and every time he blinks too long he’s not anywhere at all so instead he just keeps taking stock of what’s around him.

Grass, concrete, dandelions. Sunlight, shadow, sky.

By the time he gets back to the car, Mal’s already there with bubble tea, squinting against the sun and leaning against the hood. He smiles easy and offers out Cass’ drink. Like he hasn’t been waiting for ten minutes. Like Cass didn’t disappear with no explanation. 

They get into the car in silence, strapping up their seat-belts, and Mal doesn’t turn on the car for a bit, pretending to fiddle with something on his phone. He’s good like that. Doesn’t ask, but always leaves space. 

“There were other boys,” Cass says eventually, staring out the windscreen, biting at his thumbnail. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Mal shift a little in his seat, kinda turning to face him. 

“Yeah?”

Mal says it like it’s something he doesn’t already know. He doesn’t already know it, not this, but he thinks he does, and so it’s nice anway. Mal thinks Cass is talking about the other boys at the Estate, who he knows about just fine, but he still says yeah? like it’s some new information and even though he’s misunderstood, Cass appreciates the gesture.

Cass takes a breath, in and out, and remembers what Tahlia says about releasing his jaw, letting the muscles in his shoulders relax. It helps and he doesn’t know why but he doesn’t need to know why because it does. 

“I don’t mean Christopher’s boys,” he clarifies, after a heavy beat. “I mean there were other... there were other men. Men who, um... who kept... other boys. The same way Christopher kept me.”

There’s a long, still silence.  If Cass listens he can hear Mal’s breath hitch. Internally, he flinches.

“Sorry. I don’t want to-”

“No, you’re fine,” Mal assures, stopping him before the run-away train starts. “Keep going if you want to. Or stop. Both are fine.”

Cass nods, squeezing his eyes shut for a sec, hands gripping his seat belt like it’s a lifeline. Maybe it is today.

“They, um,” he has to stop and take another breath. “They had it worse than me. I think. I mean, I know–”

“Mate, you know that’s not something you can-”

“No, I mean it,” he says, turning to look Mal in the eye. “I really mean it. They were treated like… They wore, um. They had to wear…” he makes a gesture around his throat when he thinks words are gonna fail him and then- “Like dogs.”

Mal takes a big, deep breath in and for a second, Cass doesn’t think he’s gonna exhale ever again. But then he does. “Did seeing the collars in the store make you remember?”

“Yeah,” Cass says, frowning and wiping at his brow with the back of his hand. “Not that I forget really. Ever. But it’s usually kinda…”

He trails off and his eyes flutter closed, makes another gesture.

“In the backwaters?” Mal offers up. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, and it’s-”

He can feel something welling up. Feels his breath starting to pick up and he closes his eyes and lets his body take over. Sometimes it's better to just let the feelings come. Let his body sort it out. It helps, somehow, to just feel the panic run him through instead of trying to squash it or push it away. It stops the numbness from setting in.

“M’fine,” he mumbles as reassurance though it comes out high and squeaking. He presses his hand to his eyes, elbow resting on the sill of the car window, and the breathing switches from steady to laboured. From even to quick.

“I know you are, mate,” Mal says, voice soft. Cass is certain that if he were to open his eyes and look down, the man’s hand would be offered out on the console, to grab hold of if he wanted, to leave if he needed. He doesn’t know when it started being a thing they all did for him — Mal, Josiah, Lou, whoever – but it nearly brings him to tears every fucking time. Today he leaves it. 

The breathing evens itself out in a minute or so, and Mal’s there waiting for him as it does. Cass feels tears on his cheek before he feels much else, and the headache starting quick behind his eyes. “What am I meant to do with that? What am I… how am I meant to deal with that?”

“We’ll figure it out,” is all Mal says. 

Cass sniffs, swipes his cheeks dry. More tears come and he lets them. He takes Mal’s hands and closes his eyes again as he feels the other man squeeze it. He cries, breath quiet and hitching in little bursts, and when that finally evens out, “Do you think any of them are still alive?”

There’s a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, mate.”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

And Mal never does anyway. He’s good like that. He shrugs. “Best guess? Probably not, no. But you’re here. And that wouldn’t have been my best guess either.”

Cass kinda laughs. The best way you can when you’re already halfway through crying, anyway. “Yeah. And you’re here too, I guess.”

Mal closes his eyes with a smile and a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. And I’m here too.”

“Sorry, I’m not saying-”

“I know you’re not saying,” he says. “You’re all good.”

Cass stares out the windscreen for a long while, chewing his lip. His head feels waterlogged and heavy, like he’s just been drowned. Or not quite. It aches more when you’ve been drowned. And your throat and nose burn more.

“I hope they’re not alive,” he says, watching a pair of birds hop along the roof of the shopping complex. His voice comes out clearer than he’d expected it to.  “I hope they’re— I mean, I don’t… I don’t want them to be dead, but I don’t want… If they’re still... I hope they’re not-”

“Yeah,” Mal says. Righting the run-away train again with a word. Another sigh. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Me too.”

There’s a long, heavy silence that settles over them that lasts maybe a full minute.

Cass watches a mum walk by with her kids, one sitting in the front of the trolley she’s pushing while the other one skips backwards, walking beside. He can just barely hear the bubbling of her voice. She sounds happy. Excited. It makes him smile just a little, corner of his mouth twitching up even though he still kinda feels wrung dry. Up on the roof, another pair of birds join the first. 

Mal gives his hand a departing squeeze and then lets it go, turning on the engine and sticking the car in gear. He pulls out of the lot and reaches across to hand Cass his phone as they turn onto the freeway, AUX cord already plugged in, ready to go. “You wanna put the music on?”

“Yeah,” he says. He scrolls through and picks a playlist that looks like an easy mix of not too heavy and not too happy and sets it to play. “Hey, I’m, um… I’m s-”

“Don’t be,” Mal says, with a quick little glance across at him. “Thank you for telling me.”

The guitar riff of the song filters out the speakers and Mal turns it up just a little, humming a long with the melody. And then –

“Thalia tomorrow?”

Cass nods. “Yeah.”

“Wanna order in lunch after you get home?”

“Yeah,” he says. He dares to let himself feel comforted. “Yeah, I reckon that’d be good.”

[ask-team-rainbow]

Hi, could you do pink for cav/twitch?

Yes!!!

Pink: How did the date with (Pick Op) go?

Ficlet: Pinned [Twitch/Caveira] - Based on a previous post, also illustrated by @ourwarbird

[Apologies, this isnt a "date" story, but I did wanna explain in more detail how they got together. I hope that's okay!]

.

When Taina asked Emmanuelle out, it wasn’t in the traditional way anyone would do it. After all, since when did Caveira ever follow standard protocols?

Emmanuelle was sparring with Monika early in the morning. They both liked to do this as a morning routine to get themselves awake and warmed up for the rest of the day, whether it be for simulations or kick starting their brain to focus on the engineering work they both were dealing with.

This particular morning, however, Taina had come into the sparring room of the base and approached the square ring where the German and the French were duking it out. No hesitation and no weak blows either. They were giving it their all. The Brazilian woman watched with great interest. She rarely got to see Emmanuelle in the ring, so this was very entertaining.

Twitch was managing to block IQ’s swift strikes, ducking, shoving her fists away, anything to properly evade from getting her body hit by her. Unfortunately, she can only block so much before her body grew fatigued, and after a few more strikes, one finally hit her in the gut. Emmanuelle dropped to one knee.

“I yield.” The brunette called, then relaxed herself. She took a few breaths before looking up to Monika and smiling when she was offered a hand to help her up. She took it. “Thanks.” As she was pulled to her feet, she finally noticed Caveira had been watching from the sidelines.

“That’s all I have in me for today.” Monika admitted to Emmanuelle before removing her gloves and smiling kindly. “I’ll see you in the labs.”

Twitch gave a friendly wave and nodded. “See you later.”

Taina waited until it was just them in the sparring center before she looked up to Emmanuelle and smirked. “Nice moves, but I think I could teach you some better ones.”

Emmanuelle raised a brow as she wiped her neck with one of the clean towels. “Oh really?” She mused. “Since when have you ever wanted to help anyone? I thought you kept to yourself?”

Caveira tittered a small laugh and sighed. “Well, Six said I should start teaching someone. Might as well be someone I can tolerate.”

Twitch snorted. “Gee, thanks. That makes me feel so much better...”

“You should be honored.” Cav replied, amusement in her voice. “It’s hard for me to actually like someone.” She straightened up and moved to start climbing into the sparring ring. “So do you want to learn or not?”

Emmanuelle scoffed playfully. “Sure.” She helped pull Caveira up and into the sparring ring before stepping back and getting herself ready. She stretched her arms over her head, then took a few deep breaths. "Show me what you got, mon ami." Twitch added with a little grin.

Taina readjusted her red tank top and quickly tied her hair back into a messy ponytail, not wanting it to interfere with her sparring match with Emmanuelle. Once she was ready, she took an offensive stance.

"Alright. I want you to try dodging every hit."

The French woman teasingly rolled her eyes. "Is that all? This will be easy-"

"Without using your hands." Caveira held a confident smile and found herself amused at the other's sudden loss for words.

"Ready?" Taina asked, then watched as Emmanuelle slowly got herself into a defense pose, arms a little lower towards her body. What was Cav aiming for? Why wasn't she allowed to use her hands?

Twitch nodded hesitantly and sucked in a quick breath as she was immediately met with a high kick towards her face. The engineer ducked out of the way, slid to the left, and did the same again but to the right when another came her way.

"Is that all you got?" Emmanuelle mused as she was able to seamlessly dodge each kick that came her way. It wasn't until the seventh kick that got a little lower that she would like that the younger brunette realized that Cav was starting to focus on aiming towards her chest and abdomen. It was growing increasingly difficult to evade the attacks, and now they were coming in shorter bursts.

Just when she thought another kick would come, Taina switched it up and went to punch. Instinctively, Emmanuelle reached a hand out and grabbed the Brazilian's hand, only to be swept off the ground and pinned, both arms above her head.

Taina smirked down at the French woman and she laughed softly. "You did better than I thought you would."

Twitch's cheeks flushed a faint pink and she glared up at her "assailant".

"How do you expect me to block something that low with just my legs and torso?" She muttered, feeling a little lost for words with the position she was put in to.

Caveira hummed. "I didn't." She noticed the other's confusion and explained. "I was counting on you using your hands on that one."

Emmanuelle exhaled heavily. "Well, why would you make me do this if you knew I would fail?"

"So you can't run away before I can ask you out." She tilted her head a little and giggled.

Twitch had to do a double take. "Wait... what?"

Taina unpinned her arms and pulled her hair out of the ponytail. "Do you want to go to dinner tonight or not?"

Emmanuelle blushed heavily and looked up at the woman that was currently straddling her at the waist. "I- um... I don't see why not?" She murmured, stumbling over her words as she made an attempt to make a proper response. "What time...?"

Caveira got up and offered her hand to pull the French woman to her feet. "I'll pick you up at eight."

[aliypop]

To The One Before

word count:  1,697

Warning: Mentions of panic attack

A/N : Heres a bit of backstory to my character I hope you guys Enjoy it!

"Family isn't who you're born with: it's who you'd die for."   Alexandra Morgan was 13 when she first heard that phrase from her best friend, Ray Stantz, "My family is like a tornado, Ray..." she sighed, taking a bite of Ray's Hershey bar. Ray knew what it was like to have parents who were perfectionists, after all: he was the product of a housewife and a doctor. "One day, I'm going to leave that house, and I'll never come back!" she laughed standing, on top of the hood. 

 "You don't mean that do you?"

"With my whole heart..." she smiled, sitting back down with him. Ray smiled back, saddened by the fact that she would say such a thing. "But what about me.. And.. and our ghost club!" he asked as Alexandra kept ranting on about her plan to leave home. 

"I couldn't forget my best friend." she took him by the hand and squeezed it,

 "Beside's, who's gonna protect you from Carl.." her thick glasses-covered eyes looked at him, 

"Well, promise me this, Alexandra..." he handed her a stay puft marshmallow. "That we'll always be friends even in college." 

"Why college?" she examined the marshmallow poking at the sugary treat. "Because... why not!"

"No talking to boys or looking at them, and if you do- " Dennis, Alexandra's, father was as nervous as most dads were when dropping their daughters off to college, but he wasn't as nervous as her mother, 

" If you get homesick, you can always call, and you know we're only 45 minutes away, and I got you one of those calculator things and!" 

"JEAN, you're scaring the girl! Dennis sighed, "What we're trying to say is strive for perfection ... anything less and.." 

"You'll pull me right out of this science jazz..." she sighed: ever since Alexandra had been little, her father never understood her passion for physics and doing experiments. He always knew that women got their brains from the pantry, not books, but Alexandra was different. When most girls played with easy bake ovens, she made nuclear reactors using antennas from their old tv set and jumper cables. Her inspiration came from some kid in Ohio who made one using chicken dung. "That's my girl... and remember.." 

"No boys," she sighed pushing, her glasses up, "As if any will ever like me.." she sassed. 

"That's not true, sweetheart," Jean said, lifting her daughter's chin. 

"Mother, must I remind you I went to prom with Ray!"

"And you two were a lovely pair." 

 Alexandra sat in her dorm, isolated from the rest of the world, which was how she liked it. A book in her hand and a pencil in another, she was ready to finish the first semester of work. As she listened to the radio, she began singing along with the Jackson 5. Ray, however, was wandering around with his new best friend, Peter Venkman, a Missouri native with the charm of a con man. Both Ray and Peter had been walking by the dorms in which the two had been talking about Atlantis. 

"It was just my imagination, running away with me. " a voice sang as the two were slowly approaching the women's dormitory.

  "Alexandra..." Ray gasped, running towards the sound of her voice. 

"Ray?!" she poked her head out from the door: as she saw the two men standing there, she couldn't take her eyes off of "This is Peter Venkman he's my.." 

"Friend replacing me already, aren't cha." she joked as she invited the two inside. There had already been notes on her wall as well as books on her floor. "I see you got busy..." Peter remarked, looking at the way her eyes sparkled through her glasses and how her lips curled. "Didn't class just start.." he thought to himself as Ray read behind her theories of time travel. 

" Because I know you didn't mean that in an innocuous way, I'll respond with Yes," she turned to look at him as her heart nearly skipped a beat, 

"Nerd much?" Peter whispered as Ray turned around in shock, he knew that that was a phrase that Alex never enjoyed hearing.

"I prefer to say an intellectual, but perhaps you wouldn't understand." she scoffed. "I beg to differ."Peter walked towards Alexandra, as he got closer towards her,

 "You're just a know it all.." he smirked, "Or a narcissist .." he said in a whisper, looking down at her lips. Alexandra laughed, noticing how close they were. She had never in her life been this close to anyone, especially a man such as Venkman. 

 "My father warned me to stay away from boys, you know.." 

" Well, I don't see your old man around..." he pulled her close to him as the heat from her face radiated fog from her glasses.

 " I'll pick you up, say 8 pm." 

"Should I bring my books?" 

"Sure, but I doubt you'll need them." he winked. 

As years passed and Ray and Peter grew closer as friends, so did Alexandra and Peter. It was a cold New York December morning, and sitting by the window wearing one of Peters shirts was Alexandra. Hot tears streamed down her face as she held her term papers in hand. In all her academic life, she had never gotten a D: her world was crumbling, "Hey, it's three in the morning.." Peter then looked at the half-empty bottle of brandy that he and Ray usually would split. 

"Do I need to wake Ray..."  

Alexandra shook her head, unresponsive to his question. "Wanna tell me about it.." he then asked, sitting in front of her. "I'm going to fail.." she repeated in heavy breaths, her hands nearly pulling at her thick curls. Peter had semi-studied this behavior before but to see it happen in person terrified him. "Breathe." he held her hand, Alexandra nodded, as she only breathed faster, nearly hyperventilating. "That's not what I meant, but breathing is breathing..." he mumbled. As the sun began to shine, the two were eating pizza and talking about their families. 

 "Try having a father who is not even proud about his son going to college. 

"Try being a music prodigy by age six and science prodigy at 9." she laughed, "I have so many expectations set on me and..." she looked at Peter, who gave her a look she knew too well. Peter, although now a part of the parapsychology world he still was great in psychology. "You did it again.." 

"I don't know what you mean.." he smirked. 

"Oh, I could just!" she stood up, falling into his arms. "Kiss me.." he suggested, kissing her lips ever so sweetly. There were days when Peter was a gentleman, sweet and caring, but there were days when Alexandra would throw curses his way and wish she'd never see him again, days where she'd cry in Ray's arms, and all he could say was " Peter didn't mean it this time did he..." he asked watching her stuff her face with pizza and ice cream. "We broke up again.." she cried, "Because I got offered to teach at the university.."  

"That's good!" Ray smiled, "I mean, it's what you've always wanted, right?" he then stopped talking. It was true that Alexandra wanted to teach quantum physics and engineering, but to see Peter move on so fast when she told him the news only made it worse. 

 As time went on and Alexandra had gotten adjusted to her new life as a professor, her date life only sunk worse. 

"Alright, class, I'm Dr. Morgan today we'll be talking about the theory of Relativity.." Alexandra turned towards her class in which she heard the protest of groans. The year was 1984, Alexandra: was 31 years old and living in Manhattan. " I assume you took Dr. Spengler's theory class, or else you wouldn't be in mine." she glared at a few students over her glasses. To say that Alexandra's quantum physics and engineering classes were easy was an understatement.

 From her labs to her assignments, there was nothing easy about her not since, "Can I help you, Dr. Venkman.." she glared at him, nearly wanting to set him on fire. "Just looking for a few students who'd want to do a few paid experiments," he smirked. When paid was involved, it meant Venkman rather than the students. "Make it quick, Venkman.. " she rolled her eyes. As her lecture progressed, she noticed a pair of eyes staring at her, they were stern, a bit cynical, and they were listening to her rant about the theory of being in a paradox. 

"So if you were to see yourself uh.. " she kept looking at him as her mind went blank, and her heart nearly pounding. "You could ruin the structure of the world." the voice in the back responded.

Sitting at her desk as her students left, Alexandra took it upon herself to stay behind and work on her UPC or more so known as an ecto camera. As she heard heavy footsteps run past her classroom, she knew that it was

 " Ray?" 

"We got one!" he shouted, ushering her to follow him.

"Is it a 1 or 5?" she asked him, following him around to their lab. 

"She wasn't very friendly..." 

"So a five it i-" she stood in front of their door, watching as the dean removed their gear from their lab space. "Well, that's unfortunate ..." she whispered under her breath, looking up at the man who was in her class earlier. 

"What am I supposed to tell my mother.." he mumbled. 

"What are we going to do now!" 

" I say drill a hole through Peter's head.." Alexandra said under her breath as Egon smiled, "So you're a fan of trepanation too." he asked as both Peter and Ray tried to get her to switch the subject. "I always say that if done right, could cure a disease if done wrong, a lobotomy or death. " she shrugged her shoulders, "Although I wouldn't advise it on a hamster," she added. 

"Why's that?" 

"Makes them go crazy..." she laughed, looking at him, "I'm Dr. Alexandra Morgan." 

"Dr. Egon Spengler."

[ericsonclan]

The Effortless Joy of Being with You

Summary: Doug and Sisi enjoy a simple afternoon of gaming and pie.

Word Count: 1789

Read on AO3:

Doug squatted in front of the oven, his eyes focused on the pie made visible thanks to the oven light. The juices from the boysenberries spilled out of the top of the crust and began to coat little sections of it. Any second now and the pie would be done. Doug’s eyes stayed glued to the oven while the faint tapping of the Switch could be heard in the other room along with the music of the video game. After a few seconds Sisi’s voice appeared as well.

“Come on, Zag, just you and me and all these underworld baddies. We got this! We can win!” Sisi cheered on the protagonist of the game as their fingers whacked against the buttons on the joycons.

Doug smiled; he was happy to hear that Sisi was having fun. His eyes wandered over and he debated on peeking his head in to watch Sisi play Hades. But he knew he would see Sisi soon enough, just as soon as this pie was done. That thought made Doug glance over and notice that the juices of the pie were about to slip off the crust and onto the oven.

“Shoot, shoot, shoot!” Doug jogged over and snatched up his bear oven mitts. He turned off the oven and gingerly took out the pie. After examining it for a moment then peeking in the oven Doug let out a small sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world if some of the pie ended up on the bottom of the oven but still it would’ve created smoke and been a pain to clean.

“Everything okay in there?” Sisi called out, sounding somewhat concerned.

“Yep! Everything is peachy, I was just worried about the pie.” Doug replied as he looked down at it. Small drizzles of the purple sauces slipped down the side of the pie, painting the golden brown crust. It was a bit messy looking but still Doug felt proud for making another successful pie.

“It smells delicious,” Sisi walked forward and wrapped their arms around Doug before surprising him with a kiss on the cheek. Doug felt his heart do a little flip at the sudden romantic gesture.

“Thanks, I think it’ll taste great!” Doug moved to hold onto Sisi’s arms but quickly saw that he still had the oven mitts on. “Oops, let me get these off and then we can head back to the living room.” He quickly worked to get off the oven mitts and make sure the oven was turned off while Sisi watched in silence. Doug was wearing one of his favorite shirts: a green t-shirt with a white polar bear with antlers in the center. It was one of many in Doug’s collection of unique shirts. That shirt along with his socks and the bear oven mitts made a warm smile appear on Sisi’s lips. He was such a dork, their dork, and they loved him for it.

“Okay, all set,” Doug moved forward, intertwining his fingers with Sisi’s. “The pie will need to cool for a little bit,”

“Sounds good to me. Now you can see my skills in action,” Sisi smiled as she led the way back into the living room. Her eyes glanced around, noticing the wall of masks that Doug had helped put up. Sisi’s eyes focused on two of her favorites in her collection.

The first was a black fox mask with red detailing around the eyes and within the ears as well as some extra marks of gold that added to the mask’s beauty. The other mask was also a fox except its primary color was white with red detailing that brought attention to the mask’s simple yet expertly done craftsmanship.

As Sisi’s eyes scanned the room looking at the setup with two TVs in the room and different cookbooks and mechanical books that filled the shelves, Doug’s focus was elsewhere. His eyes seemed glued to Sisi’s outfit, a simple waist level leather jacket that covered a plain black tee  which led down to a green plaid skirt accented by a black belt. Sisi had always been so fashionable and every outfit that she wore always made Doug’s heartbeat quicken.

“Okay, Dougie, wanna sit beside me or on my lap?” Sisi smiled brightly as she sat wrapped in a blanket that covered her black tights.

Doug felt like words were escaping him as he struggled to speak for a moment. “I’ll take your lap,” He felt his face heat up at his own words as he walked over.

“Okay!” Sisi smiled and immediately wrapped her arms around Doug’s waist while her head rested on his shoulder. With a quick tap of a button she started up the game again.

She was currently in Asphodel battling her way against the Learnean Bone Hydra. Sisi expertly navigated through the attacks that the boss was trying to hit her with using the dash button. Wielding Aegis, Sisi made quick work of the different bone hydras that appeared while the boss was protected by a shield. She used the mighty shield to do strong attacks before running away and tossing it to get some last minute damage.

“Whoa! You’re doing great, Sisi!” Doug praised as his fingers brushed against Sisi’s arms. The praise made Sisi’s heart grow warm and she continued on.

“Thanks, I’ve dealt with this little shit enough times to know what to expect,” Sisi smirked, her eyes shining with determination to defeat this boss. Her fingers tapped against the buttons making Zagreus dash around, dealing a good amount of damage. The perks from Hermes were ones that Sisi always went for whenever they were available and she was glad she had them this time. A few times she had nearly gotten hit but luckily dodged it.

Finally she reached the last bit of the boss’ health bar and pressed down on the ZR button, making Zeus’ lighting rain down from the heavens and crush the bone hydra. Sisi let out a small victory sound as she shot her hands up in the air. “Take that! No one fucks with the son of Hades!” Sisi crowed and pushed the analog stick forward to get Zagreus to move to the next section of the underworld.

“You did amazing!” Doug moved his head back and stole a kiss from Sisi. Sisi paused for a second, clearly surprised by the kiss before a huge proud smile took over her lips. She immediately returned the kiss then brushed her nose against Doug’s. With newfound determination and her heart beating wildly, Sisi progressed forward into Elysium. Once there she immediately jumped into battle, using Aegis to mow down enemies. “Ha ha ha! No one can escape my wrath!” Sisi laughed as she hunted down the wandering souls of warriors that moments ago had turned their spears against her.

Doug stole a glance back at Sisi, his own smile growing. He always enjoyed how passionate Sisi got whenever she played a video game, especially with how calm and laidback Sisi was outside of the world of videogames. Doug snuggled up closer to his girlfriend and watched happily as Sisi continued to climb up through the underworld.

Soon, however, Sisi got distracted by the beauty of Elysium, the lush green plants that grew around and on top of the tiles and the beautiful white clouds surrounding the area.

“So pretty,” Sisi whispered and continued to get lost in the simple striking landscape of Elysium when suddenly an enemy attacked him. “Shit,” Sisi mumbled and tried to turn the tide of battle in his favor but it was too late. Quickly he became overwhelmed by the enemies and the final drops of his life bar slipped away, sending Zagreus all the way back down to the beginning. “Damn it,” Sisi groaned and let his head fall against the soft couch cushion.

“I think you did great,” Doug kissed one of Sisi’s palms which made Sisi’s heart flutter.

“Thanks. Guess I got distracted by Elysium… again,” Sisi took a deep breath then handed over the joycons. “Your turn,”

“Okay,” Doug took the controls and began to navigate Zagreus through the House of Hades, talking to the different residents there. After a few minutes of getting some upgrades he switched to Varatha, the eternal spear. Doug had always preferred this weapon with its long reach and the fact that you could throw it, piercing through enemies before calling it back. Doug made quick work of the first few levels of Tartarus. Sisi continued to give praise whenever he could along with small neck kisses that seemed more distracting than helpful. Doug’s laughter always made Sisi smile though so it was a win win for him and based on the quick hand squeezes or small romantic gestures Doug gave he was clearly happy too.

Soon Tartarus was complete and Doug moved onto Asphodel. As soon as he stepped foot inside Doug began to gush about the design and work that went into this game. Sisi listened happily as his boyfriend took the topic and ran with it, talking about which engine the company had used and how smoothly the game ran. Sisi always enjoyed Doug gushing about anything mechanical, finding the sparkle in his eyes and his smile beautiful.

Doug continued to share as Sisi cuddled up closer into the couch when suddenly an enemy got the upper hand on him. Soon Doug’s panic took over and all his plans seemed to disappear into the back of his mind until the enemy got the final fatal strike. “Argh, you...you... You dick!” Doug huffed as Zagreus emerged from the pool of blood and back into the House of Hades. “Pardon my French,” Doug quickly added, which made Sisi laugh.

“It's fine. If you wanna use stronger words to swear, you can,”

Doug shook his head. “No, I think I’ll stick with my words,” He placed the joycons down and got up. Immediately turning around, he held out his hand. “Pie time,”

“Pie time!” Sisi accepted Doug’s hand and got up, leading the way towards the kitchen. Once they had reached the kitchen Doug slipped his hand out of Sisi’s and began to prepare to serve the pie.

Sisi watched Doug for a moment and felt his heart settle into a calm happiness. Being with Doug always felt so effortless. It was nice, feeling this happy. With that thought bouncing around in his mind, Sisi walked forward. “Let me help,” He opened the cupboard and grabbed the small plates. Doug smiled appreciatively and began to place down the slices of pie. After a moment his eyes met Sisi’s and they shared the same thought. Being with each other felt right.

[vnderoos]

risky business ❁ poe dameron

(gif is not mine, credit to the owner) warnings / language, battle scene but nothing graphic, poe and the reader arguing but it's fine, we're fine, everything's fine word count / 3.9k

masterlist in bio ↴

"SO, WE STILL DON'T have a solid plan right now?" Y/N asked incredulously as she and Poe Dameron, the co-captain of their recently merged squadrons, made their way towards the hangar. Since her hands were covered in leather gloves, she typed her code in instead of using the palm-scanner and the metal door shot open.

She looked over at Poe as they both entered the large room, their men already prepping their ships for battle. He turned and shrugged his shoulders at her. "Looks like it," he answered, entirely too nonchalantly, and he started towards his X-Wing. Was he serious? She reached out and grabbed his sleeve, tugging him back by the bright orange material, and he rolled his eyes dramatically. "What, Y/L/N?" He sighed and his arm hung limply in her grip.

He made no move to pull it back.

She shot him a look before she dropped his arm, watching it smack against his side. "What do you mean 'what'? You're not seriously just gonna fly out there, are you?" She questioned, her eyebrows furrowing as she did. She didn't want to believe that he could possibly be this stupid, but the shrug he offered her in response was kind of forcing her hand. "You're gonna put everyone—me, our pilots, and yourself—at risk. I was thinking we could each take our original squadrons, flank the dreadnought, take out the threats on each side, and clear the way for Tallie's bombers," she suggested. "Blue will be their protection and we can just offer support," she finished, spelling out a simple plan of action since he clearly had nothing better.

But of course, he was going to be difficult about it. She should've expected nothing less. "I say we just go right in," he countered and she couldn't help but widen her eyes at him. She laid out an entire plan for him and he just shot it down without even considering it. Unbelievable. "They're gonna come at us with all they've got either way, so why not just fight back all together," he explained.

She pressed the heel of her hand between her eyebrows. "If we're huddled together, we've got one big target on our backs, Dameron," she argued, wishing just this once that he'd think before diving headfirst into a literal warzone.

"Or, if we're all shooting at the same time, we hit them back with more firepower," he countered. "We can take out the surface cannons while we're at it," he added coolly. She knew that he wanted to take out the dreadnought, they all did, so why was he being so hardheaded about it?

Was he just refusing to cooperate because it was her?

Sure, Poe had every right to be angry with her. He could hate her all he wanted and she wouldn't stop him. She was having just as much trouble adjusting to the co-captain situation as he was, so she understood why it was so easy for him to get upset with her. They weren't just Black and White anymore—they were the Grey Squadron—and it was tough not being able to call the shots alone anymore. It sucked, having to run all their ideas past each other before doing anything, but his feelings about her didn't excuse him from shutting out rational ideas.

So, why was he?

Y/N clenched her fists at her sides and her gloves squeaked quietly as she did. "Firepower and taking down the surface cannons isn't gonna matter if we all die in the first five minutes, flyboy," she pointed out and he scoffed.

He threw his hands out in front of him lightly in an undermining gesture. "Alright, say you flank, then," he said, painting her a picture of just one way this fight could turn out. "What happens when there's too many fighters for your squad to cover and mine can't back you up?" He asked, making sure to degrade the former White Squadron as he did.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "My guys can handle a couple of pansy TIE-Fighters," she snapped, rising to the defense of her men. He could say what he wanted about her but borderline insulting her team was another story. They worked their asses off for the Resistance, fought for the same thing as everyone else did, and they didn't deserve an ounce of disrespect from anyone. Especially not him. "You wanna worry about someone? Worry about your own damn squad," she growled. Of course, she had nothing against his guys but she had a few bones to pick with him.

Poe let out a bitter laugh. "Why do you think Leia combined our squadrons in the first place, Captain?" He hissed, slowly backing her up against the metal wall of the hangar. "Because you. needed. help," he said, moving to touch his fingertip to the center of her chest, but she shoved him backwards lightly before he could.

"Leia combined our squadrons because you don't plan for shit," she spat. She was tired of this shit, tired of him acting like he was everything she was and more. Clearly, he wasn't that much more or he wouldn't be co-captain. "You run straight into everything and you don't even think about the aftermath. You just hope that everything works out in your favor, but this," she paused, gesturing between herself and him, "this is what happens when it doesn't. I'm your goddamn babysitter," she finished.

"Babysitter, my ass. You're the one who's not thinking about consequences here, not me. You're gonna get yourself killed with the flank," Poe snarled and he took a few steps towards her.

Instead of letting him herd her towards the wall, she stood her ground this time. "Oh, and flying into their line of fire is somehow better?" She asked, staring into his eyes as she took a step towards him. "At least with flanking we cover twice the area and it cuts our targets in half," she explained. "If you cooperated, we could take them out in half the time, too," she said, dangerously close to him at that point, but she refused to back down.

Poe's jaw visibly clenched as he looked down at her, his brown eyes burning into her own. "I'll cooperate when the ice on Hoth melts, sweetheart," he told her and she clenched her fists again.

This was outrageous.

There was a chance his plan would work but it would destroy the squads in a matter of minutes. A bigger group meant a bigger target. "You're not an idiot, Dameron," she muttered. "Stop acting like it," she said, leaning closer to him for emphasis.

Their faces were only centimeters apart at this point. She could see every one of his eyelashes and every small, angry wrinkle that had settled into his face as a result of their conversation. She could see the stubble on the lower half of his face, the fire in his eyes, and the furrow of his brow but she didn't pull away.

And neither did he.

Instead, they stayed like that—in a silent pissing match—for a few seconds, until Poe finally broke away. "I'm done with this, Y/L/N. Like it or not, we're doing this my way," he instructed as he turned away from her, starting towards his X-Wing.

"You're gonna get our men killed," she yelled after him but all he did was pull his helmet on over his head. She watched as he hopped into his ship and closed himself inside. "Asshole," she whispered to herself before she pulled her own helmet on, flipping the orange-tinted visor over her eyes and making her way to her starfighter. She secured herself inside the cockpit, flipped a few switches to turn her comms on, and hoped that Poe didn't fuck anything up before she got herself situated.

Y/N pressed a button and the engines of her X-Wing whirled to life. "Captains, what do you want us to do?" A voice, Bitty from the White Squadron, she recognized, crackled into her ears. All of their pilots were still in the hangar, ships fired up and ready to move out, but they needed their game plan. She opened her mouth to respond but she didn't get the chance to.

"When we get out there, everyone follow my lead," Poe answered first. Of course he did.

"Y/N?" She let out an amused huff of air and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she realized that Bitty didn't entirely trust Poe. She was fairly certain that the majority of the ex-White Squadron didn't trust him all that much, either.

And for good reason.

She looked down at her control panel and slid one of the buttons up, listening to the jets in her engines get a little bit louder. She could've pitched her plan right then and there and she was sure her squad would've listened but Poe's men's loyalty lied with him. Whatever Poe said, they would do, and she was pretty damn sure that whether she mentioned her plan or not, he'd still run this his how he wanted to. There was no use flanking if the other half of their team wasn't going to cooperate. "Follow our lead," she said, correcting his mistake, but she was ultimately agreeing with him. Y/N placed her hand on a lever and shifted it upwards, lifting the wheels of her X-Wing, as the rest of their squad did the same. When all of their fighters were hovering in the air, she shook the tension out of her shoulders. "Alright, people," she started, taking a deep breath, "it's go time."

After that, a flurry of X-Wings shot out of the hangar, with Poe's and Y/N's leading the way. It never seemed to be enough for Poe that they both held equal authority over their squad, flew side by side, and offered them equal guidance, as he always made it a point to speed up a little, just enough to where the nose of his fighter passed her own. Y/N hated when he did that, as it always felt like a challenge, so she leveled their ships out each time.

As their fighters neared the dreadnought, large blasters began to pop up out of the First Order ship. "See those guns?" Poe asked, his voice mingling with static as his words played through the receiver. "Those are surface cannons. Stay close and take them out," he commanded as one of the cannons shot out at them. Their fighters moved to the side, dodging the attack, and Poe and Y/N retaliated. Their crafts sprayed the cannon down, resulting in a fiery explosion as they landed their target. "Nice job, but we've still got more to go," he stated.

He might've been a close-minded asshole when it came to Y/N and quick to jump into danger when it came to anything else but she had to admit that he was a damn good captain. He kept everyone on task, made everyone feel important, and he was very vocal about what needed to be done next. Normally, she'd be doing something similar, but since they were following through with his idea, she let him take the reigns for now.

She hoped that she wouldn't regret it.

After a little while longer of dodging the cannon fire, taking out the surface guns, and following orders from Poe, there was movement on either side of the dreadnought. "Here come the TIE-Fighters. We stay crowded like this and they'll spray us down, no problem. Break off, bait a couple at a time, and take those fliers out," she ordered and she turned a couple of knobs on her control panel, putting more power into her jets. Hordes of First Order fighters were pouring into the scene at this point.

She looked over at Poe's X-Wing, expecting him to fight her on it, but instead, she saw him nod. Her heart fluttered in her chest. "You heard her," he yelled into the comms and then both of their starfighters raced forwards, splitting off from each other and towards the TIE-Fighters.

She felt pride surge through her body as she rounded up a group of fighters, making a sharp turn to lure them away from their team. "Did you just agree with me, Captain?" She asked, jerking the wheel of her X-Wing upwards so she could flip over the enemy pilots.

"Don't get used to it, Y/L/N," he answered and she laughed, firing her blasters and sending the fighters spiraling into the dreadnought. They exploded upon impact.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she hummed. The squadron kept on like that for a while, blasting the shit out of the TIE-Fighters and taking down surface cannons when the opportunities presented themselves, and eventually, the fighters were destroyed and a single cannon was all that was left. "Alright, there's one left. No fighters right now, but the second we go for it, more are gonna flood out. Cover me and I'll go for it," she barked into the comms and she headed towards the surface cannon at full speed. Poe fired his blasters at her, forcing her to swerve up and out of the way. "What the hell, Dameron? You're gonna—"

"Fall back, Y/L/N," he warned. "When the fighters come out, they're gonna go straight for you. Don't put yourself at risk. Let me do it. I've got more experience as a pilot, so I've got a better shot," he explained, maneuvering his starship closer to her own in an attempt to overtake her.

She shook her head to herself. No. No way. "Poe, are you serious? I'm trying to do something useful and this is the one time you want to play the hero for me?" She asked. "I'm not gonna let you risk your life so you can prove that you're better than me," she shouted.

"Better than you? I'm trying to save your ass," he argued but she wouldn't budge. She was barreling towards the cannon, ready to blow it off of the dreadnought but he couldn't let her do it. Sure, they weren't on the best terms and they had their differences, but that didn't mean he was gonna sit there and watch her risk getting blown to bits for the sake of the Resistance. That was his job. "You'll thank me for this later," he said, before he dropped back, firing his blasters so he could take out her guns.

Red and yellow warning lights flashed over her control panel, a siren wailing in her ears, and she flipped a few controls and tried to get her weapon systems back on board, but nothing was happening. She was screwed. With no defenses, she was forced to turn around and regroup with the rest of her team, watching as Poe headed straight for the cannon. "If you fuck this up, I'm gonna wring—"

Poe laughed. "Relax. I'm not gonna fuck it up," he promised.

The Grey Squadron rushed forward as TIE-Fighters spilled into the airfield, all headed towards Poe's ship. Y/N would've taken a few of them out but her weapons were down, so she had to resort to baiting them, leading them to the squad so they could shoot them down.

As Poe started to rain fire on the surface cannon, two TIE-Fighters flew after him, sending blasts towards him. "Poe, you've got shadows," she warned.

"Yeah, I—shit," he hissed as they shot out one of his engines, his ship swaying in the air as it tried to adjust to its loss of support and a wave of fear shot through her body. "They got me, but as soon as I—" He cut off. His comms went radio silent as the surface cannon exploded, Poe's X-Wind and the two TIE-Fighters disappearing into clouds of fire.

Her heart lurched in her chest at the sight and she couldn't stop herself from rushing towards the wreckage. "Dameron?" She called as she flew towards the fire but she got nothing. Her stomach plummeted to her feet at that point and she felt like she might be sick. He didn't just blow himself up, did he? "Poe?" Y/N called feebly, her nervousness evident in her voice.

Just when she was about to turn away, label him as dead and call for the Torchers, his X-Wing shot through the air like a blaster bullet. Poe's comms came back on again and his triumphant whoop sounded through her ears. "All clear!" He shouted and relief flooded her body. "Bring the bombs!"

—

After Poe took out the last surface cannon and Tallie lead the bombardiers towards the dreadnought, they lost a lot of good fighters. Members of the Blue Squadron were lost in the battle and many of their bombers didn't make it back but the job was finished. The dreadnought was reduced to nothing once those bombs went off. Everyone was back on the Raddus, now, and the Grey Squadron had returned loss-free but just barely.

Y/N still couldn't believe that Poe had done what he had, how he'd kept after that cannon with one of his jets out and two TIE-Fighters on his tail. It was idiotic, it was reckless, and she was still pissed about it. "You," she said, pointing her finger at him as she made her way towards him from her X-Wing. She tossed her helmet to the side so she could use her hand to smack him in the chest. Poe's eyes were a bit wide as he stumbled back once but a soft laugh bubbled through his lips. "You have some nerve taking out my weapon systems and putting yourself in danger like that," she started as he grabbed either side of his helmet, pulling it off of his head and tossing it into the cockpit of his ship. "You could've fucked up this entire thing, Dameron. You could've gotten yourself—"

A smirk made its way onto his face and he tilted his head at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Were you worried about me, sweetheart?" He asked quietly, stopping her little spiel in its tracks.

Maybe she was worried, but she shouldn't have been. Poe was cocky. He was cocky, and he was arrogant, and he was a downright asshole but she was worried about him. "If you'd died out there, it would've been on me," she told him, completely avoiding his question. "What would I have told Leia, huh? 'Oh, I'm sorry. I let Poe shoot out my weapon systems so he could kill himself'. Sound about right to you?" She asked.

Poe couldn't help but laugh again. "Forget about Leia, Y/N. You were worried about me," he hummed and it wasn't a question this time. Something about the way she was acting made him sure of it but, instead of admitting it, she narrowed her eyes at him.

She stared at him for a good ten seconds before she sighed. "No. No, you know what? You don't get to tell me that I was anything, you hear me?" She asked, running her hands over her face and pushing her hair back angrily. "I'm the one who's supposed to be telling you that you're stuff right now and you're an idiot!" She shouted, throwing her hands out to the side. "You're a big, stupid, careless idiot and you could've died. You could've died, Poe!" She continued, full-on yelling at him at this point, because she still couldn't believe it.

He took a risk, but he always took risks. How was this any different? Why was this affecting her so much? "But I didn't," he argued, raising his voice slightly in return. "Why are you getting so worked up about this?" He barked at her.

"Because you're my co-captain, Poe!" She exclaimed. "You're my partner and, as much as we argue, and as much as I want to hate you, I can't, okay?" She continued, her voice still loud but it was getting softer. "I know that you hate me but we're supposed to look out for each other. So, if you died and I couldn't have done anything to stop it, I—" She started but he stopped her.

"Hey, I don't hate you," he held up one of his gloved fingers and he cut her off, watching as she sighed and ran a hand over her face again. "I don't hate you, Y/L/N, I mean, I was trying to protect you. I put myself at risk out there for you," he told her softly, taking a few slow steps towards her. He reached out to her, almost like he was afraid to scare her off, but once he realized that she wasn't going anywhere, he wrapped his arms around her gently. She welcomed the warmth that he offered her and let him pull her into his chest. "We fight a lot but like you said, we're supposed to look out for each other," he whispered.

"Well, don't do shit like that for me ever again," she told him quietly. "Don't take out my only way to back you up and fly into a cannon again because that was stupid. That was so stupid. You're so stupid," she berated, placing both of her hands on his chest and pushing him away slightly so she could look up at him.

Even though she was still somewhat angry at him, she couldn't help but think that he was kind of pretty in that moment. His dark curls were plastered to his forehead with sweat, in a cute way, and his lips were pulled into a crooked smile. She was also close enough to where she could see the crinkles in the corners of his eyes and that little crease on the tip of his nose.

He scoffed. "Yeah?" He asked.

She nodded her head. "Yeah," she affirmed. "It's insane how stupid you can be sometimes, honestly. I can't believe you'd do something so wild, so dumb, when we both know I can handle myself. You always take risks like that and I—"

"Maybe I do," Poe said, cutting her off, and all traces of a smile were gone because he was entirely serious, now. "Maybe you're right but I couldn't risk losing you," he confessed and her heart stopped.

When he said that, he took all her hope of breathing correctly or formulating proper sentences away and all she could do was look at him. Her jaw fell open slightly and her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to process the meaning of what he'd just said. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but she had no idea what to say, so she took a chance of her own.

Y/N placed one of her hands over Poe's cheek, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone, and she leaned in to kiss him softly. His eyelids fluttered shut the moment that he felt her lips meet his and he kissed her back sweetly, cupping her jawline so he could tilt her face to kiss her better.

His stubble rubbed against her chin as he kissed her but she didn't mind. Nothing she'd done before had ever felt so right and, then, something occurred to her:

Maybe some things were worth the risk.

↴

authors note / hi, clearly the battle is not canonically correct but i hope it was a good read anyways taglist / @pvintbreak​ @umchrisevans​

[writefightandflightclub]

Two steps back: chapter one

**NEW SERIES (1/9 parts)**

Series summary: this series spans decades in Poe and readers’ lives, with snapshots of moments based around the following themes.

Four times Poe said he’d stay with you.

Four times he tried to leave you behind.

One time you made it work.  

Chapter Summary: (STAY:ONE) you and Poe are young kids on Yavin 4. He promises to stay with you, but you know his heart is set on the stars.

GIF: by @logan-solo​

Author’s note: OOPS I started a new series. Expect angst, pining, slow burn, + a lil fluff. The 9 parts are sketched out already so these chapters should all be shortish snippets (shorter than this one!), and I don’t intend for this to interfere with my ongoing series Violent Delights. I also hope to keep requests + one-shots progressing at some kinda rate.

This is quite different to anything else I’ve tried before. Also, this is my first time having a go at Poe’s backstory! How’d I do with chapter one? Please let me know! And, let me know if you want to see this continued!

Word count: 2.1k

Most afternoons, when you were a kid back on Yavin 4, you climbed this purple-barked massassi tree with Poe. Perching together on the usual, overhanging branch, your necks would be craned, his eyes fixed up at the sky to study the A-Wings performing their drills and manoeuvres beyond the canopy. Sometimes, you’d split a wrapped punnet of koyo fruit, sharing it with the family of woolamanders which dwelled there to appease their jibber-jabbering. You would swing your feet, nothing but air beneath them for some distance, your heart almost in your mouth at the feeling of being so high off the ground.

Of course, Poe loved being up high; closer to the sky. He loved watching the ships, even then. He risked the climb, risked being attacked by swarms of carnivorous stintarils, just to get a view through the clearing in the trees of the ships rolling and ducking and diving in the sky. It made him happy; made him come alive. So, you always let him drag you through the dense jungle with him. You were his best friend, after all. Had always been his best friend. Where else would you be but by his side anyways?

Besides, Poe needed you. He got lost whenever he tried to go it alone. Your Mama frequently said, with fondness, that Poe looked at the sky so much he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. He was oblivious to the markings and signs that would give him direction and lead him home. You, on the other hand - you knew this shifting jungle well. Young as you were, you knew the sounds and thrum of it like you knew your heartbeat. Poe was driven by an engine. He was impulsive, full of momentum and metal and fight, always searching for something just beyond his horizon. You, however, were filled with a steady, coursing river, at times tranquil and at times forceful, but always entrenching your path through known terrain. You were always content with deepening your understanding of what was right in front of you.

You were different to one another, but that’s what made you best friends, perhaps. Or, maybe, it was simply owing to the fact that your families were neighbours. Or, maybe, the war can make friends out of anyone, because they all have the trauma in common. Whatever it was, you’d always come out here together. Ever since you could remember. The only thing which changed year-on-year was how high he dared climb in the tree. Each year he reached higher and higher, as did his lofty ambitions. 

When the A-wings came in for landing they’d pass low, right overhead. The branches would shake, the leaves would become frenzied and Poe would become alive with it, the blast of air whipping his dark, erratic curls about his face – at least those which didn’t yet cling to his forehead, damp with humidity. The rumble of the engines as they zipped overhead seemingly powered that half-toothless grin which always followed. You’d always impart a sharp shriek as the branches wavered, worried about falling out, so Poe had formed the habit of wrapping his little arms around you, hands sticky with koyo juice, and keeping hold of you until, one-by-one, the entire fleet had passed above you. That way, if you fell out of the tree, he’d fall too. In kid logic it made perfect sense to you both.

The war made enough sense to you too, even then. You knew that it was dangerous and sad and unavoidable, and that a lot of people never came back from it. You also knew -in words you didn’t have yet, perhaps- that the boy next to you was destined for the stars. That he ran like an A-Wing; he needed fuel and flight to survive, the pulse in his veins was warm and constant and thrumming like an engine. He desired motion. The war made you afraid, and, often, you got that same feeling whenever he’d talk with glee about becoming the best pilot in the whole galaxy. But you never told him it made you afraid. Never voiced it. You never did have the heart to wipe that smile off his face.

The one time you begged him to stay with you, it was after you had slipped down from the tree on your descent, falling a short distance to the jungle floor. Your knee, grazed against an exposed root upon landing, stung with pain. You didn’t cry, being the tough little koyo nut you were, but when you looked down and saw red you exclaimed dramatically that you’d never be able to walk home, and that you’d be left in the jungle alone to die and be devoured by stintarils.

Poe clambered quickly and more adeptly down after you, crouching by your side, pressing his hand on to your leg to stem the bleeding. The koyo juice was acidic and stung you even more. “D- don’t leave me alone in the juuunnngle” you had wailed, part-concerned about the stintarils, yet perhaps also feeling fresh with the grief you’d unwittingly absorbed from the grown-ups after the last mission’s fleet returned depleted. Perhaps dwelling a little on Poe’s unrelenting keenness to fly away from you at the soonest opportunity.

“I’ll stay with you all night and help you fight them away.” he says earnestly, his brown eyes steady and determined as he meets the tears brewing in the corner of yours.

“Y- you will? You’ll stay with me?”

He pats your hair with his grubby, sticky hands and comforts you in all the ways he has learned to comfort someone so far. “Yep. You’re my best friend and I love you. I’ll stay by your side for always. I’ll protect you and I’ll love you until all of the stars go out.” At that, your expression sours, and fresh tears form in your eyes, a wail emanating from you. “Does it really hurt so bad?” Poe asks with concern.

Poe is bewildered as you stand with ease, seemingly free of pain despite your continued tears. He reaches out to support you and you push him back with a firm palm to the centre of his chest. “Go away, Poe.” you bite off, before turning to race back through the jungle, hair and tears whipping behind you. You leave Poe in the dust. He might be destined for the sky but you are at home on the ground, and you pick through the dense undergrowth with ease, your footing sure. You pause once you clear the tree-line, throwing a glance behind you to make sure he’s following you out. You might be upset but you would always make sure he found his way home safe. Always.

Once you’re sure he’s safe, you pelt back to the house and throw the door open, where your mother startles in her seat at seeing your tear and snot-ridden face emerge through the doorway. “Mama. P-Poe said he’ll love me until all the stars go out.” you announce through sobs, and before she can react you’ve buried your face into her skirts. Seamlessly, she downs the dismantled blaster parts she was working with and bundles you on to her lap.

“You have to help me understand why that’s a bad thing, darling.” Your mother probes in a confused tone, producing a cloth from her pocket and wiping your wet cheeks and nose.

“H-he’ll only love me until the stars go out. But I wanna be h-his best friend for always.” You explain through your waves of tears.

Your mother’s chest shakes with a kind exhale of laughter and relief. “Honey bean.” she soothes, pushing your hair back from your wet face and clutching your little face in her hands. “Until all the stars go out? That means forever.”

Your tears stop almost instantaneously as if a switch has flicked, even though your bottom lip continues to tremble. “It does?”

“It does. Baby, the stars will never go out.” Your mother fights to suppress a good-natured chuckle over just how upset this adorable misunderstanding has caused you to be. Still, she feels for you, as she knows that you love that little boy with an umatched ferocity you nor she can begin to fully comprehend. So, she tugs you into her chest for a warm, surrounding hug.

“B-but he’s going to fly away. And. Not e-everyone who flies away comes back.” Your mother’s grip on you tightens, and she stills for a moment with her arms around you. However, by the time you’ve tipped your head up to look up at her, searching for reassurance, a soft smile graces her features, the sadness and guilt in her eyes expertly smoothed over. Still, she feels she should have done a better job at hiding the pain from you. And, oh, how she wishes she could protect you from it.

“My sweet little koyo nut.” she coos. “Our dear Poe is always going to find some way to come back to you. Isn’t he going to be the best pilot in the whole galaxy?” You nod as if you’ve accepted his dream verbatim, and finally seem content at that. All of your sadness is forgotten so quickly, as if it never even happened. After years of the heaviness of war, how your mother wishes she could learn the same trick.  “So,” she begins, injecting a veneer of happiness into her tone. “Do you want to help me clean these blaster pieces? Do you remember how they fit together?” She walked a thin line of shielding you from the war and arming you with enough tools to be able to survive it.

“I can do it, Mama.” you enthuse, rolling up your sleeves and diving into the task, wriggling on your mother’s lap until you are in prime position to reach across the table top.

Before too long, there is a soft knock on the door. Your mother pats your butt until you hop off of her, and clicks the door open to reveal Poe clinging bashfully to his father’s leg. “Package for the little miss.” Kes calls through the house. “Delivery of one upset little boy.” Kes’ eyes are apologetic as a wash of confusion makes its way over your mother’s face.

“Oh no. Him too?” your mother returns Kes’ apologetic look.

Kes ruffles Poe’s thick, black curls and leans in to offer a whispered explanation. “All I can gather is, he was told to ‘go away’.” He shrugs softly. “Not a clue. Figured I’d be better bringing him on over to work things out for himself.”

“Honey bean, we have a guest.” Your mother announces pointedly, giving you a stern but loving prod with her eyes to indicate you ought to join her. You shuffle bashfully over to your Mama, your hand also winding around her leg for security.

Poe’s big, apprehensive brown eyes peer at you from beneath fronds of his mussed curls, cheeks tear-stained. “Why’d you tell me to go away?” he asks, his voice tiny, taking matters into his own hands like his father suggested.

Tentatively, you look up at your Mama, whose hand presses to your back and guides you forward towards the boy. “I’m sorry, Poe. I don’t want you to go away ever. You’re my best friend.” You reach out for Poe’s hand to initiate your secret handshake. The rules are the secret handshake can’t be denied. Poe reaches back and completes the secret signal, giving you a silly, cherubic grin in conclusion, all his sadness forgotten. “Wanna help me clean blasters? Then maybe Kes can teach us to shoot?” You look up at the man hopefully, having begged him practically every time you’ve seen him for instruction.

“Show me that you can put one together in five second and we’ll talk, kiddo, you know our deal.” Kes bargains. His negotiations had you becoming pretty adept at weapons assembly, if he did say so himself.

You nod determinedly and drag Poe over to the table. You quickly become engrossed in the task and don’t notice your respective parents huddled in the doorway, at first, speaking to one another in hushed tones. Still, you’ve learned by now to suss out what it all means. It’s only ever one of two things. Either something bad has happened, or something bad is coming. This is the cycle of war, which encroaches on your lives a little further every day, no matter what they do to protect you or prepare you for it.

For now, at least you and Poe have each other. Even if it’s becoming obvious that your paths, and your roles in this war, are diverging even faster than you seem to be growing up. For now, maybe you simply choose to believe that he’ll stay with you for always.

READ PART TWO HERE

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