#and give me the job anyway?? fingers fucking crossed eh

[dontwanderoff]

have filled six and a half pages of an a5 notebook for job interview potential questions and ideas for answers so far and my hand hurtsssss and the nerves are reallllllll

[qqueenofhades]

Do you think Biden's age is an overblown issue? It does to me because like, believe or not, we do intact have a system to take care of this, and all the times we've had to use if before have worked

If Biden dies, Harris takes over

If Biden deteriorates to the point of being unable to perform his duties (personally I consider this unlikely but I digress), Harris invokes the 25th

If Biden feels he can no longer perform his duties he steps down and let's Harris take over

Which is more than I can say for trump or the lunatic he'll choose for a vp

And that last point about Biden stepping down is important, Biden's sharper than people give him credit for, I do think he intends to serve a full term if reelected, but I do think he's also considered the possibility of being reelected, serving a year or two in that term, and then stepping down and letting Harris take over

Of course the thing with Harris is people right now are transparently trying to do to her what they did to Hillary leading up to 2016, and infuriatingly, people either don't see it or they're falling for it again!

It's the most fucking overblown thing ever, and represents the usual insane double standard. The media mentions Biden's age ALL THE TIME, and yet doesn't mention that Trump is just three years younger at 77, demonstrably in far worse physical shape, and clearly on the express train to senility. Whereas Biden is fit, active, bikes, works out, and otherwise is fine. Is he old? Yes. Who cares? He knows how to do the job and he is certainly a hell of a lot healthier than say, Mitch McConnell (81), who has openly frozen up on TV twice and plainly is not well. If it was Biden doing that ONCE, let alone twice, the media would be howling nonstop bloody murder. McConnell? Eh. Footnote.

Also, a lot of the scaremongering about Biden's age is directly related to scaremongering about Harris. If you vote for him and then he doesn't finish his term for whatever reason, A WOMAN OF COLOR WILL BECOME PRESIDENT AND BE IN CHARGE OF THIS COUNTRY!!!! That is the underlying message. Of course there is a system that handles it if the president, God forbid, should happen to die in office. But Oh Noes It's Scary Female Brown Kamala. Do you want to risk your vote for Biden knowing that ____SHEEEEE_____ might end up finishing his term in some capacity!?!?! She is scary! And brown! And female! And brown!!! We can't let her be in charge!!!

Anyway, yeah. It's total BS, and the fact that the media is fanning it as hard as they can means that they can't think of any way to attack Biden on substantive policy or any other legitimate grounds. So they'll just go after the age thing nonstop, and cross their fingers that it works. Which if it did, would mean ending democracy for realsies this time, but as long as they make money, who cares!

[fastboatsmojito]

Some Depraved Billy Butcher Smut

This is becoming a pattern I feel - it’s been a long day forgive me

18+ Smut btc, He’s pretty mean, like shove the side of your face into the brick wall of a building mean, you’re also pretty mean to him oops, almost dacryphilia but not quite ?? His hands are filthy for sure but you let him put them inside of you anyways <3 is that true love - This is incredibly self-indulgent and nasty - LOCK ME UP !!!!

Unfortunately drooling over the thought of yelling at butcher in some dark alley in the middle of a mission you’re supposed to be finishing 🧎HEAR ME OUT

——

You’re pissed off, yelling at him about being as careless as he always was, planting a hand firm on his chest and pushing him into the wall of some building you couldn’t care less about, all while he gave you some shitty excuse about doing ‘whatever it takes to get the job done’. You’re in his face, anger written all over your own while he waited for you to finish your lecture.

“Shouldn’t care so much about someone like me for fucks’ sake, so what if I get a little roughed up? It’s part of the job.” He explained, not really understanding the reason behind your protest nor caring to.

“Fuck you.” You said with a final glare, walking backwards and away from him as you took a few deep breaths to regain yourself, before quickly turning around and marching towards him when you heard him chuckle behind you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” He had quite the bad habit of not taking you seriously, on and off the job, and it only pissed you off further.

“Just a bit hard to take you seriously like this ‘s all” He was smiling like a fucking idiot when you walked back up to him, wordlessly threatening to slap him with a raised hand.

“Handsy, are we? Relax. Not a bad thing to be soft. It’s a good look on ya, hand to god.” He put a hand over his heart like he was promising when he said it, but you wouldn’t be surprised if his other hand was occupied with keeping two fingers crossed behind his back.

“You know you’re not my boss anymore, right? I might work with you but I follow M.M. You’re just some asshole I have to go on missions with now.” Your words didn’t carry the venom you tried to conjure out of yourself, disappointment that you were actually letting him get to you settling in.

“Ouch.” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he sauntered closer to you. “Why don’t we just get back to work, eh? Finish this little spat when we don’t have some D-lister supe up our asses?”

“Fuck that and fuck you, Butcher. I’m not going to work with a psycho that doesn’t care if he gets himself or his partner killed. I don’t have time for this shit, if you want to ruin your life do it on your own time. I’m done.” You spat before turning away again, this time stopped by him moving in front of you.

“Hang on just a second there, I might put myself in danger for this but I still protect you. Might have a shitty way of showin’ it but that’s the reason you’re not here alone. Think M.M would send me somewhere for no reason? You’re good enough to do the job alone just fine, but there’s about six Vaught cunts in there just waitin’ on you to walk in alone.” He stopped himself with a drop of his head while you stood in what you could only describe as confusion, a tinge of guilt in your stomach.

He raised his head after a moment of you not responding. “Come on.” He gestured back towards the building entrance, looking at you with something along the lines of remorse, a look you’d never seen on him.

Maybe it was the quiet, the only audible noises your own heartbeat in your ears and the low passing of cars on the street a few feet ahead of you. Maybe it was the moonlight lightly tracing over both of your outlines, giving the man in front of you a soft glow as he seemingly patiently waited on you. Maybe it was every other time you’ve wanted to say that to him, finally getting a response that wasn’t complete bullshit. Whatever it was, every possible excuse felt ultimately irrelevant by the time you shoved your lips into his own.

It was difficult to shock someone like Butcher, there was basically nothing you could say or do that he hadn’t heard or seen before, but you felt the hesitation from him anyway. It was just a second but the tension felt heavy right until the moment you felt him kissing you back. It wasn’t soft, you couldn’t possibly have expected it to be, his rough palms moving to your sides almost immediately.

—

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill over your lash line as he shoved your face into the brick wall in front of you, his other hand currently two fingers deep inside of you, to which you had no prior warning in true Billy Butcher fashion. It was no secret he was just as much a dick in the sex department as he was out of it, relentlessly teasing you like a fucking animal.

“Yellin’ at me get you this worked up, did it?” He covered your body with his own but that didn’t stop the urgency you felt to finish before someone walked out and saw you, your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling of his thick fingers hooking up up up and then back out again repeatedly, fast and rough just as his tongue had been in your mouth a moment before.

“Jesus-“ You gasped when his thoroughly soaked fingers retracted to rub tight circles over your clit. He was clearly in his element, you could practically feel the grin on his face right behind you.

“Not quite.”

———

[izzy-b-hands]

reshaving the back and sides of my hair turned into fuck it lets do a shitty punk looking cut and slice off most of the yellow/blue tint that refuses to be covered and shove a bunch of the leftover manic panic on it

is it gonna look good in the end? dunno, probably not, but i don't think i care rn. It reminded me of ND and being stuck there and unemployed and like

my job sucks now, but I am employed and looking elsewhere for something better, and I have better opportunities

the blue was fun but didn't work for me much ultimately

i loved braiding my hair but I know when I'm keeping it long just to hide behind it and give myself an excuse to be timid (what I've been doing by waiting to chop it off, especially since after the multiple dyes it was like...not super healthy anymore lmao)

I can grow it out again if I want, and dye it something else later if this current colour doesn't vibe with the short cut (but i think it will since i have darker roots anyway)

Maybe a selfie to follow?? i took one but eh. does it matter to actually show it? not really, ultimately

i have a half hourish to kill to wait for the colour, fingers crossed I'll either be tired by then or have an idea to write lmao

[kasha-formerlydrabbletastic]

Blowing Off Steam

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Things have always been tense between the reader and Bucky, but what happens when things come to a head?

Word count: 4,269

Warnings: Mature readers only 18+ - minors do not interact! Vaginal sex, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, Dom/sub themes (who doesn’t love a bratty sub), unprotected sex (always use contraception), swearing.

.

.

.

.

“You’re lucky I saved your ass!”

“Well, no one fucking asked you to, did they?”

“No, so it looks like I’m not such a fucking prick after all, eh, Y/N?”

“Nope. You’re still a fucking prick, Bucky. Nothing in this world will ever make me change my mind about it either.”

“Need I remind you that -”

“Oh, shut up, the both of you!”

Steve’s voice cuts through the argument, effectively rendering the pair of you mute. It's surprising how long it's taken someone to crack, given the fact that your argument with Bucky started about an hour ago when the team entered the quinjet.

"Every goddamn time you're around each other you gotta argue about something," he continues, holding the attention of most of the team. "I don't want to hear another fucking word out of either of you for the rest of the ride home."

"Good job, Dad," Tony quips.

"But Bucky -"

"But Y/N-"

The pair of you speak at the same time, but Steve cuts you off again.

"Not. Another. Word." He punctuates each word with a jab of his authoritative pointer finger into the air between you. "This is the end of it. Silence. Now."

It takes a moment as you wrestle with the impulse to protest, but you ultimately sit back into your seat, folding your arms tightly over your chest. Bucky seems to do the same, his expression grumpy as ever as the two of you lock eyes.

"Fuck you," you mouth, extending a middle finger toward him.

"Fuck you," he counters silently.

You roll your eyes, settling back once more.

There has never been any real explanation, but from the moment you met him, you and Bucky have locked horns. He's stubborn, pigheaded, so full of himself and the way he operates that you can't help but be annoyed by him.

Then again, a good number of the team are cursed with the same qualities but you seem to get along quite well with them.

What is it about Bucky?

***

Per Steve's demand, there wasn't a single word passed between you and Bucky the rest of the way home. You stripped yourself of your gear after Steve's Dad Moment before sitting back and allowing yourself to take a nap the rest of the way home in your t-shirt and tactical pants. It wasn't until you got into the compound and to your desk in the team's shared office that any of your frustration boiled over again.

"Fucking asshole," you muttered between gritted teeth as you glanced over at Bucky's empty desk; his paperwork sits on the surface, needing to be done, but the man himself is nowhere to be found. Granted you are the only one at your desk doing paperwork.

Or so you thought.

"Thinking about me again?" you hear him say behind you.

You swivel in your chair to face him, his face smug as ever as steam rises up from the two mugs of coffee he holds.

"Well, not everything is about you, Bucky," you say. "Believe it or not."

"I would believe it if it were true," he grins; you make to reply, but he carries on. "I was gonna give this to you as a peace offering," he says, gesturing with one of the mugs of coffee, "but I don’t think you’ve learned Steve's lesson yet. So I'm just gonna keep it for myself. I am so tired, anyway."

He strides toward his desk, swaggering with each step, and it's almost as if you can't help the knee-jerk reaction of sticking your foot out into his path. His feet get caught up with yours, tripping him up enough that he loses grip of the mugs and stumbles forward; the mugs smash on the floor, but Bucky's reflexes refuse to let him fall too. He straightens up quickly, turning on his heel and staring daggers at you.

"Enjoy your coffee, Sergeant Barnes," you chuckle.

"What the fuck?" Bucky shouts.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you begin, wanting to taunt him but you get no further.

"Y/N, Bucky."

The two of you turn to Steve, who has finally returned to the office dressed in a basic t-shirt and jeans. He is more stern than you've ever seen him, standing with his arms crossed and his expression disappointed. He is very much the captain with his stance, staring the two of you down as if you were naughty children.

"Clean this up and then meet me in the conference room," he directs, his voice low and tone ominous.

You watch as he leaves, then switch your gaze to Bucky; you don't know what's about to happen, but something tells you Steve has had enough of the bullshit. It's possible you're about to lose your spot on the team, you think, and panic fills your chest as you stand from your chair, ignoring Bucky to the fullest as you reach for a trash can.

"Fuck," you murmur, picking up shards of mug and tossing them into the bin.

Bucky appears shortly after with several towels in hand, wiping up the coffee and smaller pieces before just chucking them into the bin, too.

With the mess cleaned up, the two of you silently march to the conference room where Steve sits at the head of the table.

"Oh, good," he says sarcastically, "you two managed to work together and accomplish something in a timely fashion, how about that?"

You take your seat next to him, wanting to ask what this is about but knowing full well what he's about to say. Bucky sits opposite you, quiet and brooding, and you feel a lurch of annoyance in your belly. You roll your eyes again, looking to Steve, trying to convey in your eyes the question, "How long do I have to stay here with him?" Steve doesn't look at you, though, his eyes fixed on his folded hands in front of him before he speaks.

"I don't know what it is about the two of you being around each other, but whatever it is, you need to cut it out," he says. "It's detrimental to the team working as a whole, not to mention it is fucking irritating."

Something in you rises to be defensive, but another, more rational side begins to kick in, keeping your mouth shut for a moment.

"The number of complaints I get from everyone else is almost ridiculous, guys. And it's only a matter of time before the two of you are bickering like an old married couple and someone gets hurt because you're not giving your full attention."

You had been so caught up with how much you and Bucky annoyed each other that not much else in your mind spared the time to think about how it might affect the team and your missions. Steve is right - and you know it - that one of these days, you and Bucky will be going at it and one of you will slip. You won't necessarily be the one who suffers, but it's likely that if the two of you continue on with your childish back-and-forth, you might lose track of a target, lose a mission, or worse, lose a teammate. With that thought, shame floods you, and you sit back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest and gritting your teeth to keep from saying anything stupid.

"With that being said," Steve continues, "you two need to figure this out as soon as possible. What really gets me is that you're both so valuable to the team, but you let your bullshit get in the way of your effectiveness." Steve glances at the door, his expression shifting ever so slightly. "Actually... I'm gonna leave you two here for a minute, something just came up."

The slightest surge of panic rears in your chest as Steve gets up from his chair. You watch him incredulously as he leaves you here with Bucky, closing the door behind him. If you're not mistaken, though, you hear the door lock and your panic peaks just a little more.

You rise from your seat, following Steve's footsteps to the door and trying the handle; it doesn't budge.

"Fuck," you mumble. "FRIDAY, unlock the door, please."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," FRIDAY replies, "the orders are to keep the door locked for the next thirty minutes, barring an emergency."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" you grumble, rubbing the palms of your hands into your eyes.

You almost don't register it, but you hear Bucky chuckle, a quiet laugh that brings your attention to him.

"What's funny about this?" you demand, just as quietly.

He sits back in his chair, strangely relaxed given that he's locked into the room with you. There's genuine amusement in his expression as he lounges, setting his hands on top of his head.

"Typical Steve," he says, looking at you with a sparkle in his eye. "Thinking he can save everyone."

You don't say anything, but shrug helplessly in agreement - probably agreeing with Bucky for the first time since you've known him.

"I guess he doesn't realize that he can't save everyone," you mutter, sitting back down.

Bucky shrugs this time. "That thought has never even occurred to him, I can promise you that."

Sparing a glance at Bucky, you fall into silence, unsure of what to say. He doesn't offer anything either, his smile slowly fading as the seconds tick on. The air thickens around you, the awkwardness growing more ungainly the longer neither of you speak. Though, it's possible that the whole thirty minutes have elapsed or that it's only been a few seconds before you figure out something to say.

"I'm sorry I tripped you earlier," you say quietly.

Bucky had been staring at the table, but he brings his gaze to you, studying you with a curiosity he has never once shown you before. He seems to take his time before he replies.

"I accept your apology," he says, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table. "I'm sorry for... everything."

The moment hangs there, seconds ticking by as the two of you study each other; now that you look at him, finally confronting the reasons why you tease and antagonize him, you figure that maybe he's not always so grumpy-looking. There's a sparkle in his blue eyes, something witty and sweet that you've never allowed yourself to notice before. He's got a strong jaw, pretty pink lips, and a smile to die for. At once, it clicks why you've been so eager to step on every one of his nerves.

Something shifts in his expression, and he pushes his chair back, standing up. He doesn't take his eyes from you as he circles the table, but you push your chair back, too, taking after his lead. By the time he reaches you, you stand, facing him as the space between you shrinks.

Then, as if magnets pull you together, the pair of you collide; Bucky's flesh fingers curve around the back of your head, cradling it as he lowers his lips to yours. Despite how out of the blue this is, you melt into him, your hands finding his waist and pulling him close. His kiss is warm, his body taut under your touch as his other arm curls around your body, pressing your chests together. Your skin tingles in every place it meets his as the kiss deepens, each of you parting your lips for the other as your tongues explore new territory.

Then, as if your bodies can't get close enough, Bucky leans forward, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifts you onto the table. He doesn't once break the kiss, but as soon as you're settled, his hips knock your knees apart. Instinctively, your legs wrap around him, urging him closer to you. Your arms curl around his neck, too, making sure he doesn't get too far away from you. He responds, taking you in his arms in kind.

You don't know how long it lasts, and you don't care, especially when his lips stray, tracing your jaw and finding your pulse.

"Oh, Bucky," you sigh, your skin on fire from his touch.

"James," he says quietly against your neck.

For a moment, you pull back, staring into his eyes and smiling.

"James," you acknowledge, and he smiles too.

In the next second, though, a wickedness settles into his expression, a sly grin taking the sweet smile's place as his hands meet the button and fly of your pants. He pulls them open, his hand diving immediately into your panties.

"Fuck!" you gasp as his fingers slip between you lips, brushing over your clit to briefly dive into your heat.

"God damn," he groans. "Doll, you feel so good. You're so fucking wet for me."

You scoff, looking him dead in the eye. "Please. I'm sure if it were anyone else I'd still be just as wet."

"You sure about that?" he says, his eyes glittering with promise as he presses his fingertips to your clit, circling the singing nerves as if he's known how to all his life.

"Mmm," you hum, your fingers bunching into the front of his shirt as you pull him forward. "We'll just have to see, I guess."

"You're damn right," he says before crushing his lips to yours. He slips his fingers into you, his thumb working circles against your clit, and you moan into his mouth. "That's right, doll. I make you feel so fucking good, don't I?"

A sly smile of your own tugs at your lips as you pull your head back.

"Meh, I've had better."

He pauses for a moment, staring you in the face before he chuckles. He takes his hand from you as he uses his free hand to push you by the shoulder, urging you onto your back before he tugs your pants off, taking your panties with them.

"Spread those legs for me, Y/N," he orders softly, and you comply.

At once, his hand finds your heat again, his metal fingers diving in and curling against your g-spot as his flesh fingers work your clit. In no time at all, you writhe on the tabletop, the entirety of your energy focused on not coming, not giving in to his ego. It's no use, however, as he hits the right spots at the right time.

"Fuck!" you grunt, your toes curling as ecstasy explodes from your core; the orgasm rips through your body, rushing through your blood with a ferocity you've never known before as your heart pounds from your chest.

"I fucking told you, doll," Bucky teases, his hands slowing down before he removes them. "Look at you. All wrecked for me."

"You wish," you say, rising up onto your elbows to see Bucky's grin falter just slightly. "Why don't you really wreck me, James? Why don't you fuck the attitude out of me?"

Heat floods your body at the idea, but just then, Bucky smiles wider as the mischievous glint in his eyes seems to take him over completely.

"You want me," he begins slowly, his hands dropping to his belt, "to fuck," he undoes his belt, popping open the button on his pants, "the attitude," he pulls on the zipper, slipping his underwear down enough that his cock tumbles from its confines and into his hand, "out of you?"

Your eyes fix on his engorged, weighty flesh as he strokes himself, imagining what it would feel like to be split in half by it.

"You want it," he says; it's not a question at all, but an entirely accurate statement.

You meet his eyes once more to see the cockiest expression on his face.

"And what if I said yes?" you reply.

Bucky leans in, his lips close to yours.

"Beg me for it," he murmurs against your mouth.

"No," you say, pushing him away gently as you slip off the table; your hand just barely closes around his girth and strokes. "I won't beg for it." You get to your knees, coming face to face with his gorgeous cock. "But you will."

"You think so, Y/N?" he laughs, but moans the minute you take him into your mouth. "Fuuuuuuck."

You swirl your tongue around the head before taking him as far back into your mouth as you can. Bucky nearly whimpers the moment the tip enters the back of your throat and you swallow around him. It takes everything you've got to keep from laughing at him as he leans over, bracing himself on the table.

Bobbing your head along his shaft, you listen to him; he curses, making pleas to God as you work him up. He tries to hold it together, but the way you suck and lick and tease has him squirming. Before you know it, though, he yanks himself from you with a growl, picking you up off the floor and turning you around; his erection presses against your ass as he twines his fingers in your hair, pressing your hips against the table.

"Baby doll," he croons in your ear, his chest hard against your back. "You think you're so cute, eh? Just you wait, Y/N. Just you wait."

He presses you down onto the tabletop, his hand still gripping your hair. Almost instantly, you feel the tip of his cock brush your lips, sliding along your heat to press against your clit for just a moment. He does this a few times before he finally presses into your center.

The moment hangs in the air as your anticipation grows, your yearning to be filled finally being granted only Bucky doesn't continue. He stays, just the tip of his cock planted in you for a moment before it slips out again, and you let out the smallest whine.

"Oh, doll," he says, his tone mocking. "Did you want that? Did you want my big fat cock inside you?"

You collect your wits, unwilling to let him win.

"I bet you want to get inside me, James," you say, your hand finding his in your hair. "God, I bet you want to fuck me. I bet you've always wanted to fuck me, from the minute you met me."

He slips his cock along your heat again, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning as it meets your clit; he bounces his cock against it a few times before teasing it with gentle circles.

"I bet you've thought of nothing but this pussy since I joined the team," you continue, baiting him into giving in. "I bet that's why you're such a prick, because you could never have it. You wanna know what I think, James?"

"What do you think, Y/N?" he replies, replacing his tip back into your center as he leans over you, his face growing closer to yours.

"I think," you say, adjusting so you can see his face better, "that there have been so many times that you've imagined having me. Times when you found yourself imagining me in this exact position, with your dick buried inside me, and couldn't help but rub one out. You ever fucked yourself to the thought of me, James?"

Bucky chuckles. "Doll, you have no idea. But if we're placing bets, I bet you've done the same. You think I don't know? On all those missions we've been on, you think I didn't hear you fuck yourself in the next room? That I don't know that's how you blow off steam?"

You smile as he presses just a little further into your heat.

"Doll," he says, standing up and bringing you with him until your back arches against his chest, his lips brushing your ear as he continues, "you think I haven't heard you call my name?"

"Looks like we're at an impasse," you chuckle.

Bucky laughs too, dragging hot, wet kisses along your neck for a second.

"Nah," he says, letting go of your hair as he slowly curls his hand around your neck, pushing your head back onto his shoulder. "Because I've got the upper hand here."

"So you think," you quip as he presses just a little further into you; your body tenses, awaiting the full feeling of his cock.

"Oh, I know, Y/N," he says, retreating just a little. “I know for damn sure. Now, what do we say?”

“I don’t know, what do we say?”

He offers a dark chuckle as he pulls all the way out. “If you’re not gonna be a good girl, I won’t fuck you.”

“I wish I could believe you, Barnes,” you reply. “But seeing as how I haven’t complied with you yet and you’re still here with your hard-on poking me in the ass cheek, I just can’t take you all that seriously.”

“That’s fair,” he says before suddenly letting go of you. 

You turn around, fairly surprised as you watch him hitch his pants back up, putting his cock away.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you say with an incredulous laugh. 

“Well, I’m sitting back down until Steve gets back,” he says, checking the time. "There's still about fifteen minutes before he gets back."

Once more collecting your wits, you smile. With an idea coalescing in your brain, you stride to his side of the table, hopping up onto the tabletop right next to him to ensure that he sees everything you're about to work with.

"Well, then," you say, spreading your legs as your fingers meet your aching clit. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm a little worked up right now and I need to, as you said, blow off steam."

Bucky's smile falters as his eyes drop from yours to between your legs, watching you work. The very fact that he's watching sends another flood of arousal to your already dripping cunt, your need for release growing stronger by the second.

"Mmm," you hum, slipping your fingers into yourself.

Bucky doesn't look away once. On the contrary, he rises from his seat, looking pained as he witnesses your pleasure. You put on a show, your moans and whimpers growing more frequent; the move has the desired effect as Bucky's hand drops to the erection in his pants, palming it through the fabric.

"Fuck," he murmurs, yanking his pants down once more. He moves forward, hand around his cock to position himself inside you, but you were waiting for this; you lean forward, pressing your hand against his chest to stop his progress toward you.

"I'm sorry," you say, "but what are you doing?"

"I'm fucking you," he says, stepping forward once more, but you hold your ground.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

He moves forward again, but you still keep him at bay.

"And what do we say, James?" you purr.

"What?" he replies.

You lean closer to him, your lips almost brushing his as you say, "Beg me for it."

"Are you serious?" he says, getting impatient.

"Damn right I am," you reply.

Bucky struggles with it for a moment, but seems to decide to fold.

"Y/N," he says, stroking his cock, a drop of precum beading on the tip. "Please."

"Please what?" you reply, relishing in the frustration showing through his features.

"Please, please, let me fuck you."

You grin, satisfied that you won, as you let your hand slide around the back of his neck from his chest, pulling his mouth against yours as he immediately buries himself inside you.

"Ah!" you moan against his lips as he fills you to the hilt.

"God fucking dammit," he groans. "You feel so fucking good, Y/N."

At once, he begins thrusting, his hands holding tight onto your hips as he moves. You lean back onto one arm, your other hand finding your clit once again, pressing circles against yourself.

"Fuck, Y/N," he says, his thrusts growing quicker.

His cock drags along your g-spot, the perfect sensation to accompany your clitoral stimulation. In next to no time, you snap, your body bombarded by your next orgasm.

"Oh, fuck," Bucky says through gritted teeth as you pulse around him.

His grip tightens on you as his hips press quicker, harder than ever, before they stutter; he pulls out, his hand grasping his cock and stroking it until he comes. Spurts of cum land on your thigh, thick and warm, as Bucky tries to get his breathing under control, his forehead landing on your shoulder for support.

He takes a moment, straightening up once he’s gotten control of himself. As he backs away, his eyes fix on yours, a soft grin pulling at his lips. He puts himself back together, zipping and buttoning his pants deliberately.

“You win,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. 

“I know,” you laugh, watching as he moves around the table to grab your pants and underwear from where he pulled them off of you. He walks them back to you, handing them over. “Clean it.”

Once more, his mischief is written all over his face as he bends down, using his tongue to mop up his mess. The sensation tingles along your thigh to your core, and you wish you had longer than just the thirty minutes allotted to the two of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, staying put as he stands back up.

“Good boy,” you say, pulling his face to yours for a kiss.

“Looks like I’m your bitch now,” he says with a chuckle.

“Oh, doll,” you say, taking delight in the look on his face as you use his word. “It was bound to happen.”

[bibbawrites]

Don’t Get Caught - Owen Joyner x Reader (16+)

Request: mischievous/playful/giggly sneaking around with Owen on set or evading Charlie in their apartment

Word Count: 3142 words

Summary: You are a makeup artist on set for Julie and The Phantoms and quickly began messing around with Owen, but the fear of potentially losing your job if anyone finds out has the two of you sneaking around and trying your best to not be caught aka 4 times you and Owen were almost caught messing around and one time you were 

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, implied oral sex, reference to m*sturbation

A/N: hi all! so this is my first attempt at a jatp related fic so hopefully i do okay, sorry for any mistakes, most of this was written and edited from 2am-6am because those are my motivation hours  i also don’t usually write reader insert so fingers crossed i dont mess this up lol. i have a ton of requests to work through so keep an eye out for things coming soon (hopefully)  also, to the person who requested this, sorry it took so long (my dumb ass deleted 90% of it and had to start again) i really hope i did your idea justice :)

1. Makeup Trailer 

The first time you met Owen was on your first day on set. Kenny had dragged the cast in to meet you, and something about Owen drew you in and you just knew you had to get to know the beautiful blonde boy. 

Luckily your chance came sooner than expected when you were working alone in the makeup trailer a few days later. The door opened and Owen came in, smiling brightly when he saw you.

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right?” He asked. You nodded.

“I am.” You replied and he grinned.

“I’m Owen. Nice to meet you, again.” He said awkwardly.

You giggled at his awkwardness. 

“Nice to meet you again too. Sit down.” You gestured to the chair in front of you and he sat down. You got to work quickly, working in silence for a few minutes before Owen spoke up.

“So how long have you been doing makeup for? You look young.” He asked.

“I’ve been doing it professionally for 5 years now. I started working in my mum’s salon when I was 15, and when I graduated I did a course to get me this job.” You told him. He paused.

“So you’re 20?” He questioned, and you nodded.

“I am.” 

“Cool, I’m 19.”  He said, and you hummed in response, concentrating on making sure his face didn’t looked cakey.

“So are you from around here?” You shook your head.

“Nah I moved here from Quebec.” You said.

“Alone? Or with your family or... boyfriend?” Owen asked, the last part sounding slightly bitter.

“Yeah I came alone, my mum is too busy with her salon, and my siblings are still in school. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” You told him and he grinned slightly.

“Good to know.” He muttered quietly. You raised an eyebrow, not quite hearing him properly.

“Sorry?” You asked. He shook his head.

“Nothing.” 

“Okay...” You trailed off, not believing him. “Well you’re all done.”

“Already?” He frowned slightly. 

“Yep.” You smiled.

“Oh. Thanks.” He stood up, pausing slightly. 

“Can I get your number?” He asked, somewhat hesitantly. Realisation dawned on you.

“So that’s why you asked about a boyfriend.” You said, eyebrow raised. 

“Guilty.” He grinned cheekily.

“Give me your phone.” You held out your hand and he placed his phone in it, and you quickly added a new contact, typing in your number and texting yourself from his phone.

“There. I’ll text you pretty boy.” You said, handing him his phone back. He grinned.

“I’ll see you around Y/N.” He said, turning to leave for the hair trailer. You watched him leave with a smile on your face.

A week of texting and flirting later and you found yourself alone with Owen in the makeup trailer again.

“So what scenes are you filming today pretty boy?” You questioned as you began to apply his makeup.

“Why do you always call me pretty boy?” He asked, ignoring your question.

“Because you’re pretty? And a boy?” You said, pulling a face.

“Are you flirting with me?” He grinned, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” You said. He bit his lip.

“So if I tried to kiss you you’d say?” He asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Eh why not?” You said it like it was nothing but inside you were freaking out.

“Y/N.” He groaned and you giggled.

“Just kidding.” You teased.

“So?” He asked again after a moment of silence. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh my god just kiss me you dork.” Owen didn’t even take a second to think about it, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap, connecting your lips in a less than innocent kiss. Your lips fitted together perfectly, and he tasted faintly of blueberry and spearmint. After what felt like a lifetime he pulled away from you, leaving you panting and wanting more.

“Wow that was...” He was the first to speak, his voice breathy. You nodded.

“Yep.” You said simply. “I should probably...”

You stood up from his lap, and had barely stepped away when the door opened.

“Hey Y/N, one of my lashes came off and... oh...” Savannah’s voice came, the young actress pausing when she saw how close the two of you were.

“Hey Savannah.” You said with a smile. She returned your smile before glancing back at Owen.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something?” She asked. The two of you shook your heads.

“No, not at all.” You said.

“I was just leaving.” Owen added, standing up from his chair. Savannah raised an eyebrow.

“If you say so.” She replied as Owen left the trailer quickly. The door shut behind him and Savannah grinned at you.

“You like him.” She said, her tone teasing.

“No...” You denied. Savannah rolled her eyes.

“You so do Y/N. And I know Owen, he definitely likes you too.” She told you.

“If you say so.” You said, grabbing a new fake lash to fix the missing one.

Savannah grinned. 

“Oh I know so. You’ll see.”

2. Julie’s Bedroom Set

“Come on Y/N, what’s the worst that could happen?” Owen had said as he dragged you through the filming lot towards the set of Julie’s bedroom. You had been heading off to grab some lunch when he had intercepted you and asked if you wanted to “hang”, which by this point you knew was code for hide somewhere and make out for a while. You had originally said no, but those darn puppy eyes had made you say yes before you even realised you were saying it. 

“What if someone catches us?” You had questioned, but Owen silenced your worries with a blistering kiss that left you breathless. 

“We’ll be fine.” He muttered as he pulled away. “Don’t stress.” 

“Famous last words.” You muttered, allowing him to pull you back in and kiss you again. You ran your fingers through his hair, knowing that he would have to have it fixed up before his next scene anyways. 

It had been a few weeks since that first kiss in the makeup trailer, and since then you had learnt the taste and feeling of Owen’s lips on yours, a feeling that was now so familiar to you that it felt like second nature. 

You mindlessly kissed him back, thanking your past self for deciding to use your favourite chapstick flavour, choc mint, on him earlier that morning when you did his makeup for the day. 

You pulled away to take a breath and he grinned at you. 

“I’m glad we met.” He said. You blushed slightly.

“Me too.” You agreed.

He pulled you back in and kissed you again, this kiss more passionate than the last, and you shuffled closer to him, your lips never leaving his for a second. You could feel his hands resting on your waist, his tongue in your mouth, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils.

Suddenly you heard a noise and you pulled away quickly, the fear of being caught overpowering your feelings for Owen.

“Someone’s coming.” You said quickly. Owen frowned.

“What?” He questioned.

“There’s someone coming.” You repeated and his expression changed to fear.

“Fuck, what do we do? Run?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes.” 

He grabbed your hands and pulled you up off the bed, linking your fingers together before dragging you off the set, the both of you giggling the whole way back to his trailer.

“It’s kinda fun, almost but not quite getting caught.” You admitted once the two of you were curled up on the couch in his trailer.

“It is.” He agreed. “But do you know what’s even more fun?”

“What?” You questioned.

“Making out with you.”

And if Owen went back to set with the taste of your orgasm on his tongue that was for only the two of you to know. 

3. Owen and Charlie’s Living Room 

You had just finished some finishing touches on Savannah’s makeup when Owen burst into the makeup trailer. 

“You’re all done.” You told Savannah and she grinned. 

“Thanks Y/N.” She stood up from the chair. “See you later. Bye Owen.” 

She glanced between the two of you, before turning and giving you a quick wink as she left, leaving you and Owen alone in the trailer. 

“So?” You spoke, beginning to pack up your brushes. “Why are you here?” 

“Well you see, I’m finished for the day and I checked your schedule and you are too, and I was wondering if you wanted to come back to my place to watch a movie and chill or something.” Owen spoke, plopping himself into one of the chairs and spinning around. 

"What about Charlie?” You asked, placing your brush bag into the large drawer of your makeup supplies. 

“He’s filming the Perfect Harmony scene with Madi. We’d have the place to ourselves for at least a few hours.” You paused, considering his offer. 

“Okay.” You replied simply. He cheered. 

“Are you ready to go now?” He asked, standing up, and you nodded. He grinned slightly, pulling you in and kissing you softly. 

“Hi, by the way.” He whispered once he pulled away. You rolled your eyes playfully. 

“Let’s just go.” 

You somehow managed to make it off set and back to the building where most of the cast and crew were living without anyone noticing the two of you together.

“What floor?” You asked as you hopped into the elevator.

“6.” He replied, and you pressed the button, riding in silence to his floor. He took your hand, pulling you towards the apartment he shared with Charlie, unlocking the front door and dragging you towards the couch.

“So you mentioned a movie?” You said once the two of you were settled. Owen nodded. 

“I did, what do you wanna watch?” He asked. 

“I actually have a better idea.” You grinned, climbing on top of him, straddling his waist.

“Oh I see.” He replied, grabbing your top and pulling you down to kiss you roughly.

It felt like no time had passed at all when suddenly the front door unlocked.

“Fuck.” You said, jumping off him quickly and settling onto the couch next to Owen, pretending as if you’d been there the whole time. Charlie entered the room, frowning slightly when he saw you sat on the couch.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Charlie questioned, throwing his bag onto the chair. 

“I.. Um...” You stumbled. “I was just leaving.” 

You stood up quickly, thankful that the shoes you wore were slip on’s. 

Charlie eyed Owen carefully as the door shut and Owen shrugged.

“Should I ask?” Charlie questioned. Owen shook his head.

“Nope.”

4. Owen’s Bedroom 

After a couple of close calls on set and in the living room, the next time you came over you and Owen went straight to his room.

He laid down on his bed and you climbed on top of him, kissing him instantly.

“God you’re perfect.” He muttered, lips and tongues combining in a mess of passion and lust. Owen pulled at your shirt, tugging it over your head, and you did the same for him. His lips trailed down your neck, sucking gently to leave a mark.

The front door opened and Owen groaned.

“Shit, is that Charlie?” You asked. He nodded. “What do we do?”

“Uh... get in the closet.” He suggested and you giggled, grabbing onto your shirt so Charlie wouldn’t see it if he came in.

“Owen? You here?” Charlie called, and Owen dragged you into the closet, pulling the door shut behind you.

“Shh.” Owen whispered. You tried to hide your smile.

“I didn’t say anything.” You told him, and he rolled his eyes playfully. The door to Owen’s room opened and the two of you froze, bodies pressed together.

“God I hope that’s your phone pressed against my leg.” You whispered after a moment. Owen pulled a face in the darkness. 

“Uh... no.” He replied, and you giggled awkwardly. 

“Don’t laugh, this isn’t funny.” He whined.

“It is funny. We’re trapped in your closet waiting for Charlie to leave and you still manage to be turned on?” You questioned with a giggle

“I can’t help it when someone as attractive as you is pressed up against me. Plus you don’t have a shirt on so...” He trailed off.

“Oh yeah?” You pressed yourself against his body more forcefully. Owen groaned quietly. 

“Fuck, stop it.” He muttered. You smirked. 

“No.” You whispered, and Owen placed his hands on your waist. 

“Y/N...” His voice was low, and just the sound of it sent flutters through your stomach. 

“Owen...” You replied just as quietly. “Before you ask, I’m not gonna fuck you in a closet.” 

“Why not?” He whined. You rolled your eyes. 

“You shouldn’t even have to ask that question.” 

The front door slammed shut and Owen let out a sigh of relief, pushing open the closet door. You stepped past him and made your way over to the bed, Pulling your shirt back on before sitting down to pull your shoes on. 

“Wait where are you going?” He questioned, pouting. 

“Back to set, I have a job to do, remember?” You reminded him, tying your laces on your left shoe before reaching for the right. 

“Can’t you call in sick?” He tried. You raised an eyebrow. 

“From my lunch break?” He shrugged. 

“Food poisoning?” 

“Owen.” You gave him a look and he groaned, flopping onto the bed. 

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do about this?” He motioned towards his crotch. You stood up, grabbing your phone, and walked towards the door, pausing before you exited the room. 

“You have a hand. Use it.” And with that, you left. 

+1. Owen and Charlie’s Kitchen 

It was a day off from filming so you decided to have a lazy day. It was almost lunch time when you woke up, and you would have slept longer if it wasn’t for your phone ringing obnoxiously from its spot on your nightstand. 

You rolled over, grabbing the phone and answered without even checking the caller ID. 

“Hello?” You spoke, voice full of sleep. 

“Good morning, Charlie has gone for a hike, wanna come over?” Owen’s voice came through the phone. 

“Sure, why not. Give me half an hour to have a shower and get changed.” You replied, already climbing out of bed. Owen cheered causing you to smile slightly. 

“Awesome, I’ll see you in half an hour.” He said. “And don’t eat anything.” 

“Okay.” You replied, and before you could even say goodbye he had hung up. You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone back onto the bed and grabbing a simple outfit of a crop t-shirt and shorts out of your wardrobe, before heading into the bathroom to get ready. 

25 minutes later you were knocking on the door of Owen and Charlie’s apartment. The door opened, revealing a shirtless Owen, and you had to stop yourself from checking him out as he let you in. 

“Any reason why I wasn’t allowed to eat?” You questioned, following him down the hall into the kitchen. 

“Because, I thought we could make pancakes together.” He gestured to the pile of ingredients sitting on the counter. 

“How domestic. Didn’t realise we had become a married couple.” You teased, and he blushed slightly. 

“I just thought it would be fun.” He defended, and you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It will be. And delicious.” You agreed.

He grinned, grabbing the ingredients. 

“Let’s get started then.” 

Somehow you found yourself sitting on the counter, eating the batter while Owen cooked the pancakes. 

“There!” Owen exclaimed, flipping the last pancake onto the plate he had gotten out. “All done.” 

He turned to face you, his smile turning into a look of concentration. 

“You have a little something...” He said, positioning himself between your legs. You paused, waiting for him to move. Slowly he lifted his hand, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Much better.” He muttered. The two of you were still, a stand off to see who would make the first move. You leaned in slowly, connecting your lips in a soft kiss.

It was as if the first brush of your lips opened the floodgates. Owen grabbed onto your thighs, dragging you forward, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, the pancakes long forgotten.

You tangled your hands through his hair, moaning slightly when you felt his hands on your ass, and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You were so caught up in each other that you didn’t even hear the front door open.

“Hey Owen, I forgot my-” Charlie’s voice came, stopping abruptly as he took in the scene in front of him.

Owen stepped away from you quickly, but even if Charlie hadn’t seen you kissing, it was obvious what the two of you had been up to.

No one blinked. Finally, Owen broke the silence.

“You were meant to be hiking all day.” He said, somewhat defensively.

“I forgot my phone, so I came back for it. I figured you’d be on the couch where I left you. I didn’t realise you’d be...” He stopped, focusing his attention on you. “Hi Y/N.”

You waved awkwardly.

“So...” Charlie looked between you and Owen. “Am I pretending I didn’t see this, or...” He trailed off. 

You and Owen shared a look before nodding.

“Just for now, at least.” You said, and Charlie nodded.

“Got it. Well, have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Oh, and if you have sex on the kitchen counter please clean it afterwards. I eat off that thing.” He winked at Owen and before either of you could respond he had left the room.

“Sorry about him.” Owen sighed slightly.

“You didn’t know he’d leave his phone. Besides, now we can hang out here together and not have to worry about Charlie walking in on something he doesn’t know about.” You replied, and Owen grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

You had just started to find a rhythm in kissing again when a cleared throat broke you apart.

“Dude!” Owen exclaimed, glaring at Charlie who was leaning against the wall, grinning cheekily.

“Just wanted to say goodbye. And warn you that I’ll be back at 3, so make sure any... activities-” He winked suggestively. “Are done by then.”

“Get out.” Owen glared at him. Charlie grinned, turning to leave quickly.

“Bye Y/N!” He called back as he left.

“Bye.” You called, giggling slightly.

Owen rolled his eyes as the front door shut behind Charlie. Focusing his attention back on you he smiled slightly.

“Now where were we?” He questioned, pulling you back in and connecting your lips again.

And if you did end up having sex on the kitchen counter, Charlie would never have to know.

[thebiscuiteternal]

(Throwing this out in the ether to see if it’s interesting enough for me to continue.)

“Your Shadow Holding Hands With Mine” Alternate Timeline, Sangxian, Accidental Living Saber Nie Huaisang, Canon Typical Violence, Signs of Mutual Insanity, Referenced Torture

__________

He was pleased to say that the guards on the walls had never seen him coming. 

He had already slipped through the gates when the screaming started, and a humorless grin crossed his mouth as he made his way from building to building, setting the red girls on anyone who moved fast enough that they might escape the waves of corpses clambering over the walls.

"Did you see something interesting, jiejie?" he asked when one of the red girls returned and draped herself against his back, arms around his neck.

~"A strange one,"~  she whispered, all cold breath against his skin. ~"One like you."~

He frowned. "Like me?"

~"Once gold, now dimmed."~

His frown deepened into a scowl at the implications of the description. "Show me."

She giggled and floated off, and he left the rest of the compound to the ever-increasing army of corpses as he followed.

The trail ended at what had to be the outpost commander’s residence, since it was much higher quality than the soldier's dwellings. 

He didn't have to search long before finding a small, heavily bound body curled up and unconscious on a narrow backless couch.

At the sight of the greens and greys of Qinghe Nie, he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

Surely not-

His stomach sank when he rolled the figure over and found himself staring at Nie Huaisang.

His friend was in terrible shape, far too pale and his breathing was weak. He was badly bruised in some areas and his skin had been scraped raw and bloody in others.

Remembering what the red girl had said, he carefully tugged the other boy's outer robes open, trying to ignore the sight of even more bruises and scrapes, and pressed his fingers to the dantian.

Oh. Oh, he knew the hollow coldness that greeted his careful probing all too well. He'd felt the same thing in Jiang Cheng after he’d been rescued from Lotus Pier, which meant this could only be the work of one particular Core-Melting Jackass.

But there was something else. Something weird.

Curious, he fed a little more resentful energy into the other boy's body and...

Wow.

He did it a third time and marveled at how, once more, the resentful energy just melted into Nie Huaisang's meridians like honey into hot tea. 

He was a little jealous at how easy it was for Nie Huaisang to absorb it. It sure as fuck hadn't been this simple for him, having to practically let the resentment shatter and reconstruct his meridians over the course of months.

He'd heard before that Nie cultivation was… a little unorthodox, compared to that of the other sects. Maybe...?

A crash from outside alerted him that he was still on a mission. "Jiejie, the chains?"

The red ghost gave a wide grin full of needle sharp teeth, then slashed her claws through the lock. Once the bindings fell away, he laid Nie Huaisang on his back, then sent a much stronger and sharper pulse of resentful energy through his body.

Nie Huaisang jerked and gave a violent gasp, then green eyes fluttered open and stared up at him fuzzily. 

"...Wei-xiong...?"

He smiled, all bright and violent cheer. "Welcome back, Nie-xiong. Ready to help me finish burning this place down so we can go hunting?"

"Hunting for what, exactly?" Nie Huaisang asked, squinting at him warily.

His smile grew. "The assholes who did this to us, of course."

---

Lan Wangji felt numb and slightly lightheaded as he exited the house, having been soundly dismissed by Wei Ying to go liase with his assistant.

The screams echoed behind him and he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath against the sudden wave of nausea that rose up in his stomach.

"Hanguang-jun?"

He opened his eyes in surprise and stepped back from the person who had just... appeared far too close for comfort, and only the realization that it was Nie Huaisang, of all people, kept him from drawing his sword.

...Wait.

"You are Wei Ying's assistant?" he asked, unable to keep his disbelief from leaking into his voice.

Nie Huaisang smiled, and the hair on the back of his neck prickled.

He dismissed it as a consequence of the still-ongoing screaming.

“Eh...sort of? I mean, he really does all the fighting, I just take care of the sabotage. Trying to make it a little easier on him, you know?"

"Easier."

"Mmhmm! Cutting bow strings, poisoning rations, that sort of thing. So he doesn't have to work so hard  at killing them." Nie Huaisang leaned to the side, staring up at the window behind him, then gave a soft whistle. "Wow, they're really getting into it. Must be someone important."

Lan Wangji swallowed hard. This conversation was getting more unnerving by the moment. "Wei Ying told me to find you," he said past the knot of discomfort in his throat.

"Oh? Well, I've already finished my part of the job, so he must want me to start on food. Come on!"

He didn't want to be here. He especially didn't want food, between what was going on upstairs and Nie Huaisang's far too casual remark about poisoning people.

He followed anyway.

Fortunately, the stew that Nie Huaisang cobbled together from the stores he hadn’t laced proved to be harmless, and the other boy had even been polite enough to cook the meat separately so he wouldn't have to eat around it.

The gesture had done little to soothe his uneasiness, however, especially when Wei Ying and Jiang Wanyin returned in high spirits and liberally spattered in blood.

"Really? After I just did laundry yesterday?" Nie Huaisang asked, as if that was the most pressing problem.

"Aw, but it was worth it, Nie-xiong," Wei Ying said in a sweet, affectionate sing-song that he'd never heard directed at anybody before.

Not even Jiang Wanyin, judging by the slightly incredulous look on his face.

"You should have come to watch!" Wei Ying continued, heedless of Nie Huaisang's squawk of disgust when he threw an arm around his shoulders, promptly transferring blood to his clothing as well. "Wen Zhuliu turned such pretty colors when Chengcheng got hold of him with Zidian!"

Nie Huaisang blinked, then looked at Jiang Wanyin. "Did you really?"

Jiang Wanyin smirked. "Made him dance, then took his head clean off," he said, then his expression turned serious. "Wei Wuxian told me what happened on the way back here. Are you going to be okay?"

The question earned a flinch and the other boy’s hand reflexively going to his dantian. 

Ah. That explained quite a bit about why he'd been able to sneak up undetected. Or at least that was what Lan Wangji was going to convince himself.

"I'll be fine," he said, waving off their expressions of concern. "I was lucky enough that Wei-xiong found me before we could make it to Nightless City, so... I'll be fine." 

"Tch. Ever the optimist," Wei Wuxian teased, but Lan Wangji didn't miss the glint in his eyes, nor the way his arm tightened protectively.

Possessively.

Suddenly the stew was far too heavy in his stomach, heavy enough that he lay staring up at the sky long after he should have been asleep.

"Wei-xiong, you've really overstretched yourself this time."

At the sound of the murmur, clearly pitched to avoid waking anyone, he turned his head to find Wei Ying and Nie Huaisang sitting on the other side of the low-burning fire. Wei Ying had tucked his face into the curve of Nie Huaisang's neck and had a hand resting against the other boy's stomach. Resentful energy writhed around them, apparently flowing from Wei Ying's body into Nie Huaisang's.

What... what was...?

"I know, I know, I shouldn't have called up so much for this," came the muffled sound of Wei Ying's voice. "But I have to practice working with larger numbers if we're going to make a difference, you know that."

"True, but if you tear yourself apart, then we won't be able to do anything at all."

Wei Ying pulled back just far enough to give a sharp-edged grin. "Then it's a good thing I have you to make it all better, isn't it?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"You're awful. Horrible, even. An absolute brat," Nie Huaisang said, giving Wei Ying a swat that made him yelp in protest, but his tone was all fondness as he drew away and fixed his robes, then got up to extinguish the fire.

Mind a whirl of confusion and apprehension-

Making him better? With resentful energy? How was that even supposed to work? Could Wei Ying potentially be in danger from what he was letting Nie Huaisang do?

-Lan Wangji didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

[phykios]

this one is dedicated to mi amor mari @perseannabeth, who is a beautiful bird and a wonderful friend and i am v v vvvvv grateful to have crossed the airwaves with her :”)

Today Was A Fairytale [read on ao3] T, modern royalty, fun at disneyland!

She stares at him. 

He stares back. “What?”

“Really?”

“What?”

“You really think this is going to be enough?” Annabeth points at her head, the blue Yankees cap squishing her curls. 

“Of course! It’s the Clark Kent effect.” As if to underline his point, Percy slips on his fake hipster glasses, except that stupid grin of his is too bright not to draw attention. 

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Sure it is. Studies show that glasses are actually good enough to alter your appearance if someone doesn’t know you well.”

“Then why didn’t you bring a pair of glasses for me?”

“Because your hair is definitely the prettiest thing about you,” he says, automatically tugging an unruly curl which peeks out from under the brim, a gesture so practiced she almost doesn’t register it--until he blinks, dropping his hand, blushing lightly. “I mean--the most noticeable thing. You know. A hat should be fine.”

He looks away. Heat rises to her face, too. Because it’s so hot out, obviously. 

“Anyway,” he mumbles, “um. No--no one’s going to give you a second look if your hair is hidden.”

Chewing her lip, Annabeth can’t help but worry. Percy’s face is extremely well-known, possibly more than hers, and they’ve both spent the better part of three weeks with their faces plastered all over the media on their diplomatic trip. This is probably a really, really bad idea. Then, a thought occurs to her. “How about,” she says, perking up, “you give me your glasses, and I’ll give you mine.” From her backpack, she fishes out a pair of sunglasses, big and nondescript. He’ll practically be wearing a superhero mask with these.

Percy smiles again, and Annabeth thinks she might fly. “Perfect.”

Which is how Her Royal Highness Anna Elisabeth Ingrid Irene of Sweden and His Serene Highness Perseus Alexandros Ioannis of Thera play hooky from their day of boring meetings, insufferable dignitaries, and stuffy security guards, to go see the eighth wonder of the world: Disneyland Resort in California.

And how Annabeth eats her words as they make it past the security gate unchecked. “Eh?” He beams, nudging her with his elbow. “Eh?”

Rolling her eyes, she shoves him back. “Shut up.”

***

[description: a tiktok video which depicts a line at Disneyland. the op, a black girl with braids, covers her mouth and looking into the camera, turning the camera to focus on the two people behind her. one is a tall boy with black hair and sunglasses, and the other is a blonde girl with a yankees hat and glasses. both are white. video text reads: “p sure the people behind me are prince percy and princess annabeth??? um?????”. background audio is a dubstep remix of the fight theme from undertale. end ID]

***

Maybe it’s a little weird, on account of her being actual royalty and all, but Annabeth has always been interested in princesses, both as a matter of historical record (history is awesome) and in the general sense. Like millions of other people, she, too, was raised on Disney movies and tales of princesses and true love, and she was just as captivated as the rest of them. She and Percy used to watch the Disney catalogue whenever their families held state visits for each other, staying up into the small hours of the morning, sharing some popcorn and singing along. 

Luckily for Annabeth, her favorite princess is holding a meet and greet at the Royal Hall.

“Excuse me,” Percy says, approaching Princess Ariel. Well, her cast member, anyway. “Could I get a photo for my friend?”

“Of course!” she trills, her blue eyes sparkling. “It would be my pleasure.” Holding her hand out, perfectly poised and graceful in a way that would impress even Annabeth’s stodgy etiquette instructor, she smiles, warm and welcoming, pivoting to bring Annabeth in for one of those weird, semi-awkward half-hugs. “What’s your name?”

“Anna,” says Annabeth. Hey, it’s not untrue. She’s a little leery of using any of her names, but Anna is common enough. Annabeth? Not so much. Even with her glasses and hat disguise, a little paranoia is justified, she thinks.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, Anna,” she says, cheerful, with all the grace and charm of someone who doesn’t spend hours saying the same thing over and over again to excitable, temperamental children. What a trooper, she thinks.

“Don’t you recognize a fellow princess when you see one, your highness?” Percy says, grinning that stupid, smarmy grin of his. 

Annabeth glares. Oh, he thinks he’s so damn clever. 

“Oh, of course,” says Ariel, smoothly. “How could I have thought otherwise? Your highness.” And she curtsies to Annabeth, a short dip, her hand placed delicately against her chest. “Perhaps I can introduce you to my friend Anna, princess of Arendelle?”

Still smirking, Percy takes some more pictures, trapping Annabeth into smiling for the camera. She can’t be glaring daggers in her pictures, nor can there be video evidence of her kicking him--no matter how much she wants to.

And she definitely doesn’t miss the way Ariel not-so-subtly checks Percy out, eyeing him up and down.

“You fucking asshole,” she hisses as they leave the photo area, swatting him lightly, and he giggles. 

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Ugh, I hate you so much.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him, though she definitely tries as they enter back out into the park proper, giving him just the barest hint of a cold shoulder. 

“Aw, come on,” Percy says. “I was just teasing.”

“You shouldn’t go around tempting fate like that,” Annabeth says. “Do you want to cause another international incident?”

Percy winces, no doubt remembering the Gateway Arch incident of 2008. 

“If someone recognizes us, we don’t have Zoe or any of her team to protect us,” Annabeth goes on. “Not that I think anyone here would try to hurt us, but…” But it’s a little nerve-wracking, being on her own like this. She hasn’t been alone like this for a really long time.

Wincing, Percy rubs the back of his head. “I guess I forgot you’re a little higher profile than me. Sorry.”

She doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s true. Percy, by his nature as the younger son of a largely defunct royal house, doesn’t have quite the same number of… issues… that someone like Annabeth might have.

Deflating, she uncrosses her arms. “It’s okay.”

“I should have asked you first.”

“It’s really okay,” she says. “No harm no foul.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, entirely serious. “I can call someone up.”

She knows just how long they’ve planned this, how many favors he’s called in and policies he’s sidestepped. Backing out now would just be a waste of a day. She shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says. “I’m just… feeling a little exposed, I guess. But, I don’t want to ruin all our plans. Let’s keep going.” She grabs his hand, squeezing a little.

“...Okay,” Percy says. “But say the word, and we’ll call it a day. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Like he doesn’t have any other expression today, he smiles at her again.

It hits her, suddenly. He’s so much taller than she remembers. Once upon a time she used to be taller than him; now, he’s basically a whole head above her. 

It’s annoying. But also… not.

Spying something over her shoulder, his eyes light up, and he practically gasps. “Cinderella!” he points with his free hand, like a five-year old. “Come on!” And he takes off to one of the park corners, dragging Annabeth along with him. 

He has to wait in line behind a pair of twin girls, six or seven years old by the looks of it, in identical Cinderella dresses for a photo, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and when it’s finally his turn, he nearly trips over himself to go up and ask for a photo. 

Cinderella agrees, and now Annabeth is relegated to the job of cameraperson. Percy slides in next to the princess, his hand on her waist, but, ever the respectful gentleman, loosely held, so the cast member can slide out of his grasp without any difficulty at all.

Taking a few shots, it does look kind of strange to have Cinderella’s beautiful, shining face, and Percy’s enormous sunglasses blocking his. “Take off your glasses?” she says, lowering her phone for a second. 

Dutifully, Percy slips them off, smiling again for the camera. 

Cinderella’s smile doesn’t falter, a credit to her professionalism, but Annabeth can see her eyes widen, just a touch.

Annabeth snaps off a few more photos, “Got ‘em!” and Percy once again gushes over the princess, thanking her for her time. Grabbing Annabeth’s hand again, he practically skips off, leading them in the direction of a nearby candy shop. 

***

me: IM SHAKING GUESS WHO I JUST TOOK A PICTURE WITH????

sis: prince percy?

me: HOW TF DID YOU KNOW

sis: its on twitter already

***

They’re walking along, Annabeth slurping up a Dole whip, when she suddenly stops in her tracks, outside of one of the many, many gift shops. “Wait up a second.”

“Hm?” Percy says, around the giant lollipop in his mouth. 

“I want to get some Mickey ears.” 

Very quickly they get lost in the sea of Disney merchandise, walking the labyrinth of Star Wars and Marvel and Pixar goods. There’s a surprising amount of black for the so-called happiest place on Earth, but things do brighten up when Annabeth finally turns a corner and finds the enormous selection of Mickey ears. It’s a wash of sparkles, flowers, bows, and occasionally characters, for children and adults alike. Annabeth eyes a pair designed like Baby Yoda, eyes wide and ears adorably huge, before she fingers a pair of white Mickey ears that have a bridal veil attached to them, contemplating its counterpart, the black ears for the groom, each ear emblazoned with a sparkling silver “Happily Ever After.”

She looks around. Where did Percy wander off to, anyway? 

Well, wherever he is, hopefully he hasn’t gotten mobbed by a horde of excitable fangirls. Given that she can’t hear any screaming--well, any unusual, non-Disneyland-relevant screaming--that’s probably a good sign. 

Running her fingers over the ear selections, she finally picks out a pair of silver sequined earrings with a shiny gold bow, a tiny, rhinestone Cinderella’s castle placed delicately in the middle. 

Yeah. This one. 

Percy finds her as she is paying for her ears, a pair of his own already on his head, red balloons inside of plastic circles. The sunglasses, she notes with a tinge of nervousness, are tucked in his shirt, and not on his face, protecting his identity. “Oh, check mine out--they light up!” he says, giddy, pressing the button on the side, not that she can tell in the brightly lit shop.

“That’s not why I was looking.”

Walking out of the store, ears firmly in her possession, she looks around again. Percy’s face is out there for the world to see, and no one is giving them a hard time. 

And her hat is really sweaty. 

Ah, fuck it.

She removes the Yankees cap, shaking out her sweaty curls, sliding the ears on in its place.

And the glasses, for good measure.

“Cinderella?” Percy asks.

“I thought you’d approve.”

Outside the shop, next to a corn dog cart, Percy pulls her aside, out of the way of a whole classroom’s worth of children, holding up a plastic plag. “So, confession.”

“Percy…” He didn’t. “We said no gifts!” They had agreed to it that morning!

“Well, see,” he says, fumbling around in the bag, pulling out a black t-shirt. “I saw this, and I thought--I thought you might like it.”

He unfolds it, and Annabeth frowns at the shirt design. 

It’s… a drawing of a man in a purple mask against a solid black background, glaring at the viewer. Circling him, in distressed, white-grey military font, are the words “BARON ZEMO,” and the logo for the show he must star in, Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. She doesn’t really watch superhero shows, though, and she’s pretty sure Percy doesn’t, either. Maybe he’s started this one and he really likes it? “Thanks,” she says, confusion coloring her voice despite her best efforts. 

But he doesn’t look too disappointed. “I was looking through their pride merch, and they didn’t have any stuff with the ace flag, which totally sucks, but then I thought that maybe you might like something a little more subtle? So, yeah.” He shakes it. “Ace pride!”

Oh. Oh, this boy. 

She remembers, so vividly, visiting his father’s summer home on Kalymnos, a few years ago, the summer she turned nineteen, waking up to a banging in the kitchen, noisy pots and pans making a real racket. Granted, it had been one in the afternoon, and Annabeth probably should have been awake sooner, but she had stumbled out of the guest room into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, to the sight of Percy wrestling with the standmixer, making bright, neon purple frosting. The night before, sometime around three or four AM, that weird, liminal hour where the shadow of night just starts to recede, the sky a sweet, soft, dusky blue, she had come out as demisexual to her best friend, saying the words aloud for the first time ever. Loopy from lack of sleep, the moment had passed without much fanfare.

But Percy, dark-circled and still yawning, had woken up early to make her a chocolate cake. By the time she had woken up, he had baked the cake, chilled it, and made two out of the three frosting colors, a beautiful, moist, dark chocolate cake which ended up being frosted with a marbled mix of purple, black, and white, all folding into each other into a kind of colorless, grey sugar. 

Here, now, in Disneyland, she throws herself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. His arms automatically come up to circle her, hugging her tight. 

She had been worried it had been some kind of defense mechanism. A young girl with an alarmingly high profile, Annabeth had been the subject of intense scrutiny with regards to any romantic entanglements, with critics, tabloid reporters, and fans alike attempting to invent gossip-worthy relationships with every boy she ever talked to--most usually Percy. They did grow up in the public eye together, attending all kinds of events and functions together over the last fifteen or so years. And they did tweet at each other. Like, a lot. They even had their own portmanteau hashtag. But no relationship ever materialized.

She thought maybe she was just being stubborn, unwilling to play the media game. But it hadn’t been stubbornness. It wasn’t about shyness or inexperience. It was real, and it was her.

And Percy hadn’t even blinked.

“I love it,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he says, swaying her from side to side, just a little. “It was my pleasure.”

***

What’s happening: #percabeth (Entertainment • trending)

@kndrck__ STREAM CHROMATICA: um @TheraUS @SwedenRoyals i think i found your sick royals? #percabeth #disneyland

@wasabiviking: omg werent they supposed to be at some hospital opening today #percabeth

@ChampionSno brando he/him: LMAOOO NOT #PERCABETH PLAYING HOOKY LIKE IT’S ROMAN HOLIDAY

***

“Holy shit,” Percy moans, his mouth full of food. “Oh my God. Dear God in Heaven.”

Annabeth kicks his ankle under the table. “Don’t be rude.”

He swallows, eyes fluttering. “Oh my God, Annabeth. Holy shit. This is the best damn sandwich I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“A monte cristo?”

“A deep-fried monte cristo! In sweet batter!” Taking another bite, he moans again, just this side of indecent. “Oh my God I love Americans. They are absolute culinary geniuses.”

“Better than Bistrot Chez Rémy?” They had both been to Disneyland Paris, separately, sadly, and Percy had recommended the restaurant to her with great enthusiasm for her upcoming trip. As usual, he was spot on with his food recs. 

He nods, eyes closed in rapture. “By a mile.”

“You’ll have to learn to make your own when we get back home, then.”

He jolts, straightening up, cheeks full of food. Roughly, he swallows. “You’re right! I need to take notes.” And he takes out his phone, hurriedly typing down whatever scent and flavor notes he must be able to discern. “This is definitely challah…”

Plucking another piece of chicken with her fork out of her jambalaya, Annabeth lets her attention wander a little, content to watch the passengers on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride as they float on beside them, down in the artificially constructed bayou river. 

Truth be told, she’s kind of tired. They’ve been walking around all day, and even with the brief reprieve of rides, her shoes really aren’t the kind that deal well with huge amounts of walking. She can already tell that she’s going to crash, and crash hard, whenever they get back to their hotel. You know, if their security detail doesn’t eviscerate them first. 

When Percy had first presented his idea to her, she had agreed without hesitation. They had had a long, dense schedule of public appearances planned for their excursions to the states, and the days had begun to seriously wear them out. Together, they had worked out the kinks, coming up with contingencies, negotiating things to do, all over Discord so no one else would get wind of what they were doing. Prior to this trip, she hadn’t seen him in… probably almost a year. She knows his father had been keeping him close to home for whatever reason, and Annabeth had had a handful of official functions to deal with. Their paths just never managed to cross, up until now. 

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him. 

It’s lonely, growing up in the public eye. It’s cliche, but it’s true. And while Annabeth is afforded a metric ton of various intersecting privileges, she thinks she’d probably give it up in a heartbeat. It kind of sucks being a living, breathing tourist attraction. 

Growing up, she had her cousin Magnus, and a handful of other assorted children to play with, but she would never say that she had a best friend, or even a good friend, until she’d met Percy. Her mother and his father, famous for their mutual dislike, had put aside their differences to host some kind of charitable dinner for the disgustingly wealthy, and had trotted out their respective children in all their finery. Annabeth, being all of twelve years old, hadn’t really grasped the gravity of the event, and had gotten into an itty bitty little food fight with the then-unknown Prince Perseus, the result of an extramarital affair whom his father had so graciously decided to acknowledge and adopt. 

After that night, they became fast friends, and she decided that, if she ever left the royal life, she’d make sure to take Percy with her. He’s one of the few things that makes her life bearable. 

She thinks about it, sometimes. Renouncing her title. It wouldn’t exactly be hard. There was Magnus, just in line behind her. And it’s not like her family held any executive power anyway. They’re just fancy, historically interesting celebrities. 

Would Percy give up his, she wonders?

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

He looks at her oddly over their dessert, two vanilla-bourbon creme brulees. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just tired. Long day.”

“You want to call it a night?”

She frowns. “What’s left?”

“Well, we did Space Mountain, Rise of the Resistance, Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean, a few others,” he counts off his fingers, “saw the princesses, got Mickey ears, ate at Blue Bayou… I guess all that’s left is walking around the pier, if you want.”

“Sounds like you two had a full day.”

As one, they almost leap out of their seats, Annabeth choking on her spit. “Jesus, Zoe,” Percy pants, his hand over his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh?” says Zoe Nightshade, the head of their security detail, who had just apparently materialized out of thin air. “Funny. I could say the same about you, sir.”

Coughing, Annabeth eventually manages to get her air back. “Hey, Zoe,” she wheezes. “How was your day?”

“Eventful. Let me tell you about it in the car.”

Annabeth glances at Percy, who’s looking a little bit like a deer in headlights. Honestly, she’s surprised they even made it this far without one of their own tracking them down. Still, it looks like their game is up. 

...Or is it?

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a large tour group, approaching on the horizon.

“Sure,” Annabeth says, getting up. Luckily, they’ve already paid, so they can just head out; they don’t need to wait for another big group of people to cross their paths. “Will you let us go to the bathroom, first?”

Zoe squints. She’s always been able to see through Annabeth’s bullshit. But Annabeth has her best, Percy-patented baby seal eyes on, perfectly innocent. Surely, Zoe wouldn’t deny them a physical need such as relieving themselves?

After a moment, she nods. “Make it quick, if you please.”

“Of course,” Annabeth says, looking over at Percy, hoping he gets the message. He stands up, slow and stiff, eyes darting between the two of them. “We’ll be right back.”

They wander through tables and chairs towards the bathroom, her eyes always on the tour group as it just starts to pass by. Reaching out, Annabeth grabs Percy’s hand, and with a turn that would make her track coach proud, sprints out of the restaurant, using the throng of people as cover. 

She thinks she hears Zoe yelling behind them, but maybe it’s just her own laughter. “Come on!” she shrieks, breathless, as Percy’s long legs keep pace with her. “To California Adventure!”

***

darthbingus said: the monarchy are fucking parasites but percabeth is pretty cute i guess :/

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: it’s obviously a publicity thing lmao, also prince Percy is gay???

eowynning reblogged and said: he’s dating rachel dare, right? he can’t be gay 

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: That was a publicity thing too obvs, and Annabeth hasn’t ever been linked to a guy. The king of thera is hardline greek orthodox, there’s no way he’d let his son come out publicly. They’re both gay and pretending to date because homophobia

lardoftheprks reblogged and said: people can be bi and ace and pan and all sorts of things you know

batgirlcock reblogged and said: can you animals leave them alone fr

***

Zoe only spots them after the ferris wheel starts moving. Sprinting over to them, they’re still a full forty feet off the ground by the time she reaches the operator. “Sorry!” she yells down to her, hands cupping her mouth. “We’ll be down in ten minutes!”

“Ananbeth!” he chokes, giggles still escaping him. 

“What?” she laughs. 

“We’re in enough trouble as it is!”

“Exactly,” she says, settling back on the ride. “You’ll probably be grounded for life.”

“Me?” he squawks, playfully offended. “What about you?”

She scoffs. “Please. I’ll just pin it all on you.”

Leaning back, he pouts, arms crossed. “Wow. I plan this amazing day, violate a few embassorial rules, and probably put both of our countries on a massive red alert, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I helped plan it, too.” But he does have a point. “Thank you,” she says. “I had a lot of fun today.”

He turns his head to her, a grin stretching across his face. “Me too.” 

His voice is so soft, so fond. They share a look, a moment, no words between them, only the silence of a true, deep companionship. They don’t need to say anything else, because they already know what the other would say. 

As one, they break away, looking back out into the California evening. 

They don’t talk much as the ferris wheel climbs higher and higher. Honestly, Annabeth is kind of impressed with how well he’s handling himself--she knows heights are a bit of a weakness of his. He grabs the edges of their gondola every once in a while as it drops a few feet, knuckles white and face a little green, but he manages to keep his dinner down, even as the ferris wheel grinds to a halt, Percy and Annabeth at the top of the world. The swing back and forth a little, hot faces against the cool evening breeze. 

And they stay there. 

And stay there. 

And… stay there. 

Annabeth checks her watch. How long have they been up here?

Percy taps his feet, a little too frantic just to be ADHD. 

Finally, there’s a burst of noise from below them, garbled and static. “Uh, yes, excuse me--” the voice says, amplified through a megaphone. “Yeah, um, it appears we are having some… uh, technical difficulties with the Pixar Pal-A-Round. Please remain calm, as we have our best technicians on it, and we are working on evacuating the ride in a calm and efficient manner.” Then the voice cuts out. 

Annabeth glances towards Percy. He has his hands in his lap, fists clenching and unclenching, over and over again. “Uh… you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Percy says, “just fine. Peachy keen.” He squeezes his eyes shut, slowly blowing out his breath through his mouth. 

“Hey.” She reaches over, and takes one of his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. After a long day of holding hands, somehow it still manages to surprise her, how well they fit together, how her skin tingles as she rubs her thumb against his finger. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be just fine. They’re going to get us off this ride, and then we’ll fly home and be grounded for life.”

“I thought,” he wheezes, “you’d blame it all on me?”

“As if you could come up with a plan as genius as hiding from our guard in It's A Small World.”

He nods, shakily. “Right. All you. Definitely not my idea. Everyone knows I’d have looped back to Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Definitely.” She squeezes his hand, scooting a little closer. “Just breathe with me a little, okay?”

They breathe together, slowly and evenly. At some point, Percy takes her hand in both of his, running his thumbs over her palm, tracing her lifelines like a map. His hands are big, and warm, and it seems to calm him down a little, so she doesn’t mind all that much. 

Twilight darkens, stars twinkling against the grey, dusky sky, and still they are holding hands. Eventually, Percy relaxes, slumping against his seat.

“You good?” 

He nods. He still doesn’t let go. “Yeah. Just…” he sighs, stretching his arms up, taking Annabeth’s hand with him. “Not super looking forward to the dressing down I’m going to get.”

She winces. Annabeth’s dad is a little more flexible than Percy’s when it comes to breaches of protocol. The king of Thera is somewhat famous for his paranoia. “I hope it was worth it.”

He whips his head to her, eyes wide. “Of course it was worth it!” he says, as though the opposite were even fathomable. “You kidding? This was the best day of my life.”

“Better than your sixteenth?” His father had officially acknowledged him that day. Annabeth had spotted him in a deserted hallway with his mother, the two of them fighting off a few happy tears. She knows just how special that day was for him. 

“Not even close.” Squeezing her hand, he smiles again, that smile she knows almost better than her own by now. That smile she grew up with, a quiet oasis in a whirlwind of ancient tradition and modern media coverage. That smile is safety, familiarity. That smile was there to greet her when her mother chose to leave her family, when her uncle died without heirs, thrusting the position of heiress on her, whenever she had a rotten day or a bad grade or a lonely night, just on the other end of a phone, or down the hall, or in the kitchen. 

Whatever happens, she knows, Percy will be her best friend. Her anchor. 

Her…

She swallows. “Thank you,” she says again. “I needed this.” A day without an agenda. A day just for them. 

His eyes are dark, and soft, like the water beneath them. One hundred and fifty feet in the air in a broken ferris wheel, there’s nowhere safer she can be. “Me too.”

So she’s not really surprised at herself when she says, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Eyes widening, just a hair, he opens his mouth, momentarily speechless. “You--are you sure?”

She nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

“Cool. Uh, me too.”

“Cool.”

Neither of them move. 

“So, do--do you want to--”

Annabeth leans in, her other hand cupping his cheek, and kisses him. 

His lips are soft. His mouth tastes like vanilla and bourbon. They are trapped in a metal box, one hundred and fifty feet off the ground, about to get the punishment of their lives when they get down, and it is absolutely, utterly perfect. 

And when Annabeth pulls back, there are fireworks. 

Quite literally.

Percy’s face glows with pink and green and purple, and a little fire in his eyes that’s all him. The pops of the fireworks, loud and brassy, and muted, completely overshadowed by the pounding of her heart in her chest. 

They rest their heads against each other, breathing each other’s air, quiet and intimate, the calm before the storm that is surely coming. But that’s fine. Let it come, she thinks. She’ll be safe with Percy.

When the park technicians eventually get the ferris wheel moving again, Percy and Annabeth disembark from the gondola like nothing’s even gone wrong, waving to the crowd of people, fans, and reporters alike, who have swarmed the pier, phones and cameras held aloft in a constellation of light, before being quickly hurried away by Zoe and her crew, ushered to the end of the pier where Annabeth’s embassy’s car is waiting. 

Percy doesn’t let go of her hand once. 

***

KALYMNOS, GREECE--Prince Percy has arrived on the island for his family’s annual summer retreat, bringing his girlfriend, Princess Annabeth of Sweden, with him for the fifth year in a row, and the third as his official partner. Lifelong friends, the couple were most recently seen at Disneyland Tokyo, continuing something of a tradition for the two royals where they visit Disneyland parks across the globe. Our sources inside the castle are hinting that the family is planning something big this year. Could we see a proposal by the end of summer? Be sure to subscribe for more updates!

[anonymousfiction211]

Loki’s Game: 1

Summary: You are working at the Avenger compound as a ICT and security specialist. Everyone thinks you are doing a good job, but you procrastinate a lot. You lie effortlessly, or so you think. When no-one other than the God of Lies and Mischief, Loki joins the team. He quickly discovers that you are lying and decides to take advantage of that.

Word Count: 2.498 words

Warnings: No smut in this chapter, but definitely in the upcoming chapters. Overall story warning: dubious consenst, BDSM, forced orgasms, overstimulation, manipulation, angst

A/N: A multiple fic which I started on AO3 and Wattpad. Thougth maybe some of you will like it as well. Next chapters will be sunday.

The alarm of your mobile started to ring. The screen showed it was 08.10 a.m. That leaves 20 minutes to get dressed and go downstairs. Almost finished you thought while typing on your laptop. You typed like your life depended on it. With your work finally finished you put on the clothes you had laid out and quickly brushed your teeth. Why do I always do this to myself? You had a month to make a new security plan, but you started a week before the deadline. The plan wasn’t bad, but it could be more detailed. Now you had to go to Tony and Steve, explaining your not-so-detailed-plan. On top of that, you were tired. You had set an alarm in the middle of the night, just so you had something to show this morning.

How, you did not know, but you made it through your presentation. Steve was supportive. Tony and he decided you could have more time to work out the details. Luckily, the presentation was recorded. When they started to ask questions, you made up answers on the spot. You now had to implement those answers for your next deadline. So, they didn’t figure out that you lied to them. They gave you two weeks. This time, I am going to start on time! Sitting at your desk you were distracted, checking social media, and watching YouTube. Suddenly you got a call from Tony, asking you to come to the living room.

Walking inside you saw that Natasha, Clint, Steve, and Tony were all there. “How is your plan coming together?” Tony asked you. “Fine, it may even be finished before the deadline” you lied. Great, after this you have to get to work. The door opened and Thor walked in. Besides him walked another men you recognized immediately, Loki. “I still think this is a bad idea” Clint said. “I know, but we need him. Thor has vouched for him” Steve commented. Thor had a tense look, Loki was just smirking and looking around. Nobody made eye-contact with him. Tony clapped his hands together “Well.. ehm.. welcome, I guess. I will give you a tour, this is (Y/N) by the way. She will give you security clearance and tell you how to work with Jarvis.” You raised your eyebrow at Tony “What is happening here?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you. There was some suspicious activity, Loki is here to help. Or so he says. I wanted to tell you, but you were so busy with the new security plan, I didn’t want to disturb you” he said. “Oh, yeah. Super busy, lot of late nights. No problem” you lied. Lots of late nights watching Netflix that was.. you thought.  You saw Loki staring at you. “He will be in the room across yours.” he then turned to Loki “Try not to disturb her, she’s one of my best employees and very busy.” You felt yourself blush at the compliment. Loki’s eyes were still fixed on you. You started to feel bad for Tony, he really thought you had been working hard. You were mentally scolding yourself for being so lazy. I will fix it in the next two weeks.

“Plan is almost finished then?” Natasha asked you. You nodded, not wanting to go into much detail of your not-so-detailed-plan. “Great, I need your help next week, think you’ve got the time?” she asked you. Shit, no.. but well, if I work a few all-nighters I have. Who needs sleep anyway? “Yeah of course, I was just telling that the plan will probably be finished before the deadline” you said. “You sure about that?” Loki said in a dry voice. Everyone just stared at him, nobody had expected him to join the conversation. “Back off, Reindeer Games. She knows what she’s doing” Tony said. Loki’s eyes narrowed at you and you looked away to the ground. Thor seemed to notice his brother staring at you “I will join the tour, shall we go now?” he said to Loki and Tony. With that the three of them left. The rest of the team was still discussing how they were feeling about Loki’s presence.

“Where’s Bruce?” Steve asked. “After his last encounter with Loki, he thought it was best to stay in the lab” Natasha told him. Steve smiled at you “I will check on him. Thor or Tony will bring Loki for the security clearance after the tour, call me if you don’t want to be alone with him.” You watched him leave and then left yourself. You sat back down at your desk and started to work on your secret planning. First you listed everything you needed to get done to finish the security plan. Then you made an overview of your time the next two weeks. I should have told Natasha I didn’t have time. With this planning that meant at least two nights you had to work through. You had to plan them accordingly, so nobody would notice how exhausted you were. Luckily, there were two days most of the team would be away. I hate myself for not starting on time. After your planning, your eye caught the Netflix logo on one of your tabs and you decided that you could watch one episode, before starting your long workday.

You were halfway through the episode. “Busy?” a low voice asked you from behind. You jumped from your chair and quickly closed your laptop. Turning around you saw Loki leaning against the wall in the doorway. His posture was casual and relaxed, but you couldn’t help starting to feel like you were in trouble. He walked towards you and you forgot how to breath. He took a seat in the chair across from yours and put his feet on your desk. He was leaning back slightly. His eyes never left yours. His eyes were a beautiful emerald colour, but the gaze they had made you feel like a deer in headlights. Suddenly, you were very aware that if he decided to kill you, he could with a snap of his finger. “Lost your tongue?” he asked. That’s when you realized that you hadn’t answered his question. “No, I’m not busy. You just startled me, that’s all” you said. Your voice sounded a little higher than you had hoped. You took a deep breath and sat back down in your seat.

Loki smirked at you “But I thought you were extremely busy?”. His voice sounded too innocent for the look he was giving you. “W- well.. I- I am. But I- eh.. I meant.. just knock next time you come here.” you stammered. “That didn’t sound convincing at all” he said. You saw a small glint in his eyes, which appeared immediately. “Thor said I should come here for security clearance, so I could walk freely around the building.” “Yeah right, ehm.. a moment please” you said. You started to type on your computer, entering Loki’s clearance. Feeling more nervous every second that passed. Loki was still staring at you. God, I wished he just looked at something else. You started to type faster and began your explanation of Jarvis to him. He cut you off after one sentence and rolled his eyes. “My brother might not know much about your primitive technology, but I do. No need to explain it, little one” You blushed at the nickname. “S- so eh.. you have now clearance and can walk around freely. If there’s nothing else I can do for you..” you didn’t finish the sentence and motioned at the door.

Loki stood up from his chair. Thank god you thought. However, he didn’t walk towards the door. He walked around your desk and stood right behind you. You felt goosebumps starting to form. “W- what are you doing?” you asked him. Your voice trembled. He put one hand on your shoulders and leaned down. His touch froze your whole body. You felt his breath tickle your earlobe. Fuck, he’s hot. Your breath hitched, you were surprised by your own thought. Where did that come from? You heard Loki chuckle in your ear and the first instinct you had was to jump up from your chair. He didn’t let you and held you firm in place with his hand on your shoulder. He is so much stronger than me. You started to panic, not knowing what to do. You sat as still as possible and stared at your screen. The screen was showing your episode on Netflix. “You are not going to finish” he whispered in your ear. “I wonder what Stark thinks of his model employee, wasting her time, his time, everyone’s time. I was surprised they didn’t notice your lies” he put his other hand also on your other shoulder.

You started to breath faster, unable to make up your mind. Running was not an option, and you were unable to speak a word, let alone form a sentence and tell him to fuck off. The sudden image of Loki bending you over your desk and taking you from behind crossed your mind. What the hell? No, not with him. You kept it a secret that you were extremely attracted to dominant men. You were ashamed of it. It felt demeaning to have a man control you like that. Usually, you had strong will-power and were opinionated. In bed with your former partners, you always were on top or in control. “You know, the soldier told me about your new security plan, he was very impressed with your presentation this morning. Did he know you made everything up on the spot?” You didn’t know how he knew that. You lowered your head, staring at the ground. “No” you whispered. Loki stroked his thumb across your collar bone. You took a deep breath, unable to decide if you were fearful of him or turned on by his touch.

You suddenly felt his tongue against your earlobe, flicking it. He started to kiss softly against the top of your neck. Trailing downwards towards your collar bone. His other hand travelled down to your breast. You forgot how to breath again and felt yourself heat up. I should do something. Get away, tell him to stop. But you didn’t move a muscle or say a word. He was massaging your breast and you felt your upper body lean into his touch. Damn.. you thought. This felt so wrong but also so right. “I think I am going to like my stay here” he hummed against your collar bone. The vibration on your skin sends a shot of arousal to your core. He suddenly grabbed your throat and squeezed it to cut off your breathing. “From now on you do as I tell you. One wrong move and I will expose you to Stark, you got that?” He loosened his grip somewhat, but not enough for you to get air. You started to nod as fast as you could. He laughed “If you try to scream or tell anyone about this you will pay.” He then let go of your throat. “Now, be a good girl and get back to work” he whispered in your ear. You were breathing heavily, trying to process everything that just happened. When you looked behind you, you saw that Loki was already gone.

When you caught your breath, you contemplate your options. If you told someone about it, you surely would be fired. Maybe I can tell Steve? He always has my back. But you also lied to Steve a lot, and he was so impressed by your work. Nope, not an option. Maybe quitting? There was no way you would ever find a job you loved so much and paid so well. Plus, you have gotten quite close with most of the members on the team. I could tell Natasha. She might know a way out. But she would surely ask why you hadn’t castrated Loki, or at least tried, when he started to touch you. You couldn’t admit to her that a part, buried deep within you, liked to be treated that way. I could finish my work, and if Loki tries anything again then tell them. They would believe you over the God of Lies after all. And with your work done, Loki couldn’t show any proof of his accusations. The only other thing you needed to do was to avoid him as much as possible. After this encounter, you didn’t want to know what he would want you to do. Maybe a little… you thought. He is tall, and you could feel his abs through his leather jacket. If you didn’t know anything about him and met him in a club, you definitely would have let him take you home.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. You snapped your head to see who it was. Thor was standing there. “Are you okay?” he asked. You froze, thinking he had witnessed the whole thing. “I’m fine” you said, hoping he would believe the lie. “Good, Loki likes to scare and play with people. So, I thought I check up on you” he gave you a genuine smile. “Also… I wondered if maybe you would want to have dinner with us tonight?”. You looked at him with a questioning look on your face. “Sorry?” you asked him. Thor started to let his hand go through his hair. His posture changed a bit, he looked more nervous. “Well, bringing Loki here was necessary. But I’m worried about how he will fit in and he needs to. Plus, he will be here a long time. So, I was hoping you would help me with him and maybe get to know him a bit? If he knows someone, he usually lights up.” he gave you a pleading look. “You two actually are very similar in some ways.” he said quickly. “N- not that I mean.. I didn’t mean..” he stammered. “I didn’t mean it as an insult, I just think you two could be friends, that’s all” he sighed. I really don’t have time to spend a whole evening trying to befriend the guy that just made my life hell. I really need to work. You looked at Thor, who was putting on his best puppy eyes. You sighed “Fine, but I have to finish some things for work. So, I cannot make it too late.” Thor grinned widely at you. He walked towards you and engulfed you in a big hug. “Mortal over here, Thor” you said while he was squeezing the tiny amount of air you had in your lungs out. “Thank you Lady (Y/N)!” he boomed. “Just come to his room around six o’clock, I will take care of dinner.”

Thor left your office. Great, tonight is going to be so much fun you thought sarcastically. You turned towards your laptop and opened your document, finally getting to work on your security plan.

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 4

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 3, Chapter 5

i have finally found the two perfect songs for this series and that’s everytime by chen & punch and talk love by k. will so go give those a listen because damn if it isn’t these two idiots.

anyways, enjoy the chapter!

Nothing is right anymore, and yet people are so quick to adapt to any sense of normalcy they can. It’s marveling to watch how, in two measly days, the refugees have quieted down and stopped fighting for food. Stopped fighting, period. Now they seek comfort in one another, a sense of camaraderie in knowing that they’ve all gone through the same thing. And holy hells are there a lot of them.

Because soon after Shiganshina was torn through because of the monster they were calling the Colossal Titan, Wall Maria itself fell. Ploughed straight through by something called the Armored Titan as though it was made of feathers. The refugees here are safe - for now - but there are countless of people who weren’t lucky enough to get behind Wall Rose, and they’re out there dying right about now. No one knows if Rose is going to hold either. No one knows anything. So with the kinsmanship comes a heavy pretense of safety, in which everyone ignores how scared they are in favor of counting themselves lucky that they get to live even a single day longer.

You’re doing what you can. Obeying orders without so much as a single complaint. Of course all rations are to be given to the refugees, so you’ve only had one eighth of a potato in the past twenty four hours, but it’s better than nothing. For once, you can’t find any fault with your situation, because no matter how terrible or hungry or scared you’re feeling, there is undoubtedly someone feeling worse.

Such as Ricky.

His mother and old sister managed to get to the boats. His father and younger sister weren’t so lucky.

The two of you had been stationed inside the base together, to watch and hand out resources to the refugees, but you’d immediately taken full responsibility and told Ricky to stay with his family. He’d pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and ran off, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Unfortunately, they’re pretty unpleasant.

Captain Erwin Smith is famed for bringing home soldiers who are still alive. That and Levi’s raw skill with his ODM gear makes you hopeful enough that he’s alive, so you try not to think of him. Frankly, it’s selfish to worry about a single person when there’s so many people at risk, so you bury the troublesome thoughts and focus on your job.

The Garrison has done a good enough job with the resources they have, but the Military Police’s presence is aggravating more than anything. They’re here to keep order, not to keep people safe, and everyone knows it. You wonder if your mother would prefer if you joined with these bastards instead of the choice you’ve made for yourself.

There you go again, being selfish. It’s always been about your life, and your absolute disdain for boredom. Out there, good people are laying down their lives. And you? You enlisted in the Training Corp as some form of self-fulfillment. It’s the first time you’re feeling this overwhelming guilt, as you realize just how ignorant your point of view is. You’ve never even so much as seen a titan, and yet you fancy yourself a soldier.

What a stupid girl you’ve been.

A tug on your uniform makes you snap out of your thoughts, and you look down to see a small girl with black hair wrapped in a scarf that’s too big on her. You blink, and try your best to smile reassuringly.

“Hey. You need something?”

The girl’s voice is quiet, soft, as though she’s trying her best not to be a bother. “They said you were giving out blankets here. May I have four of them, please?”

You nod, leaning down to check the crate by your feet. Unfortunately, you’d been swarmed by people asking for blankets just a few minutes earlier, and you’re just one short of how many the girl needs.

“I only have three left,” you begin apologetically, biting your lip, “but wait here, I’ll go check with someone else.” But you know that’ll be pointless, all the other stations have probably run out too, and if they haven’t, they’re saving for themselves. Calling them out won’t make them give it to you, that much is for sure.

Even the little girl seems to know that much. She shakes her head, taking the three blankets you offer her. “It’s alright. Three is enough. I’ll give them to the others.”

You frown. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter much. But you know that you would hardly be so selfless in the same situation. Hell, you would have wanted two blankets to yourself - these thin sheets are only going to do the bare minimum to keep people warm. The girl piques your curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

She hesitates for a second, then says, “Mikasa.”

You hum as though you’re thinking about it. “Pretty name. Who are the blankets for?”

She smiles faintly at the compliment. “My friends, Eren and Armin, and Armin’s grandpa.”

Not her parents. Your heart breaks for her. You’re not going to pry, the girl has probably seen enough, but you admire her maturity and willingness to spend the nights cold. It must take a lot to love some people so dearly that one would give up basic comfort. To risk getting sick, which, given the circumstances, may just be a death sentence. Yes, that kind of love is truly special, and you wonder if you’ll ever love someone that much.

You want to be a little selfless, too.

“Here.” You shrug off your uniform jacket, draping it over her shoulders. “I know it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Mikasa’s eyes widen. “But don’t you need it, ma’am?”

“Eh. They can make me another one.” You shrug. “Besides, to tell you the truth, orange isn’t really my color.”

Her eyes shine tiredly at the unexpected kindness. “Thank you.”

You watch her run off, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. One person helped, out of thousands. It shouldn’t matter - you’re probably never going to see that girl again, you wouldn’t even know if the dumb uniform would do her any good. But there’s a part of you that can rest just a bit easier now, knowing that a child won’t be completely exposed to the harsh winter coming in. If the conditions of Wall Rose are anything to go by, you know that the refugees will be put to work in the fields very soon. It’s going to be a cold season indeed.

There’s been no time to process anything, which you’re almost grateful for. If you stop to think about the effect this is going to have on the fate of humankind, you might scream. There’s too much to think about, and there may be no time to think about it if things get even worse. For now, all you can do is try to help as many people as you can.

As Grumman always tries to drill into your head, it’s about dedicating your heart.

____________________

The new base and training areas are nice. That’s about all you can say for them. Losing the old one was akin to losing your home, and you know your comrades feel the same way, considering how awkward and depressing the shift has been. It feels stupid to start training again like the world hasn’t gone to shit, but you suppose it’s more necessary now than ever.

Everyone’s usual hijinks have stopped. Ophelia doesn’t cross her eyes and make faces whenever Grumman turns his back. Gunther’s habit of making finger guns every time he successfully slices a cardboard titan’s neck has ceased to exist. Even Traute, never one for jokes, seems even more morose and serious than usual. Everyone feels the loss keenly.

Ricky’s gone silent.

You don’t know how many people everyone has lost, and the worst feeling you’ve ever experienced is the relief that you haven’t lost anyone. It’s an ugly impulsive thought, but it trumps all the others in your head. Just overwhelming, horrible comfort.

It gets even worse when the Scouts return, almost three weeks later. There’s no cheers and hollers this time. Each and every single one of them is drenched in guilt and shame along with the blood coating their capes. Titan blood evaporates, you realize with a deep shudder.

The commander carries the same pain as the rest of them. Already, there’s been whispers of Commander Erwin, murmurs that Shadis is losing his touch and a younger, more clever man is needed. You don’t see how it matters who leads - titans are fucking titans, and they certainly don’t care. There’s no tactics that will make them stop being giant man-eating monsters.

You’ve been waiting for days to see Levi, but when you finally make him out, you quickly look away. The horrifying relief blooms in your chest again, and you curse and bless the circumstances that have brought you here. So he’s alive. So the constant anxiousness that has kept you up these last few nights is soothed. So what? Not everyone is as lucky as you. Things will never, ever go back to normal. You have no right to be happy about this.

When you glance at him again, you suck in a sharp breath when you see he’s gazing right back at you. There’s no brightness in his eyes, the rare spark that you’d seen in the moments the two of you shared is long gone. It seems like it was centuries ago. He’s seen too much. They all have.

There’s a question he seems to be asking you, but you have no idea what it is. You want to walk up to him, but a heavy force keeps your feet planted right where they are. All you can do is give him a confused expression, brows furrowed. It’s not like you’re telepathic. If he wants to ask you something, he’ll have to actually ask you.

But he doesn’t. He just looks away, seemingly conflicted, and continues to follow the others. When everything around him is hell, you wonder if you’re even important enough to be worth more than a couple of seconds of his attention. Thankfully, the thought isn’t painful like you imagined it might be. In fact, it’s a bit freeing to let go of this stupid, ridiculous, pointless plan. Your grudge against the lieutenant is about the least important thing in the world right now, so insignificant that you wonder how you ever thought it was worth your time in the first place. There’s no need to make yourself feel more like the foolish, self-centered bitch that you’re realizing you are.

The only problem that comes with letting go of this plan is that you’re letting go of Levi, and it’s a serious problem that the thought gives you such an aching pang in your chest.

____________________

Stephen is gently shaking you for a good ten seconds before you snap out of it, looking at him with a bewildered expression.

“Aren’t you going to go for your walk?”

You look around. Dinner is nearly over, and a few people have already filed out to go back to their dorms. You must’ve zoned out, like you have been ever since the Scouts came back earlier today. You’ve never been so unfocused in your life, simply because you didn’t like not knowing what was happening around you. This is so unlike you, but you’re not sure what to do to stop it. A dark cloud has settled over your shoulders, and you have absolutely no idea how to get rid of it.

“Yeah.” You sigh and stand up, squeezing his hand in thanks. “Ricky went to bed already?”

Stephen nods, with a concerned frown on his face. “I know you’re worried about him, (F/N). I am, too. A lot.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to have to worry about you too.”

You wince apologetically, running a hand through your hair. “Shit, I’m really sorry. Look, I’m fine, I am. I’m just...thinking a lot lately, that’s all.”

The last thing you want is to have your friends take time out of their day to schedule an intervention for you. You’re not the one who needs it. It’s as though everything just makes you feel worse and worse - it’s just that you feel fucking useless all the time, and now you’re an emotional burden to Stephen, who just has to be sweet to everyone.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he says kindly, “just take care of yourself, okay?

“Yeah. You too.” You squeeze his hand again and then head out, beginning your aimless walk around the grounds.

The moon is shining brightly, an unwanted beacon to the despair brewing inside you. Truthfully, you’re spiralling, and you haven’t spiralled in years, not since you decided to take control of your life. There’d been no trigger then, or maybe life itself had been the trigger, and you’d holed yourself up in your room as your head spun out of control. Cheesy questions like what am i doing here and what is my purpose and am i ever going to do anything meaningful rose to your mind then, and they do again now.

Back then, you’d decided that the answer simply lied outside of Stohess. You still believe that, to an extent. Going back isn’t going to solve anything, but...what did leaving accomplish? Your desires are fulfilled, but there’s no purpose to any of this. Not when people were and still are dying out there. Is the only way forward to dedicate yourself to the noble cause of saving humanity? There mustn't be a person alive who can give themselves that goal and actually hope to achieve it.

Well, except one.

This time, you’re the one who finds him.

He’s standing by his horse, stroking the fur gently. Somehow you’ve walked all the way to the stables without realizing. You take a step back, intending to walk away, but the selfish part of you that you’re starting to loathe doesn’t let you go any further than that. You’ve missed him, so much. You’ve missed his bad attitude, his amused smiles, his tantalizing gaze. You want it back, selfishness and selflessness all be damned. Now that he’s here in front of you, it’s too hard to resist.

“Lieutenant.”

Levi looks at you, and his shoulders droop as he stares wearily. He looks like he’s aged several years, and you consider that he probably doesn’t want to see you right now.

“Sorry to disturb you.” You take a deep breath, willing your hands to stay still by your sides and stop clenching. “Were you going for a ride?”

“Yeah.” He takes in the sight of you and then lets out the slightest of sighs. “Do you want to come?”

“What?”

Never in a million years did you expect him to offer going on a horse ride with you, and never in a billion years did you expect yourself to want to accept. You’re so taken aback that it doesn’t occur to you to note the little stool he’s using to hike himself up (as though he can’t pull himself on - it’s a formality more than anything). Levi’s looking at you, waiting for an answer, hand outstretched like he’s actually trying to live up to the fucking prince charming title you’ve given him.

“Okay,” you agree softly, not really knowing what the hell else you’re supposed to do.

You take his hand and he helps you on - really unnecessary, you can get on a horse by yourself - and you swallow when you realize he’s placed you in front. If he wants, he can observe your every reaction to him, and see...well, you don’t know what he’ll see or what you’ll do, but you know it’s not anything you’re willing to show him.

He gets on behind you, an arm snaking around your waist before he instructs you to hold onto the saddle tightly.

Neither of you speak. The horse trots peacefully, never going too fast. The poor thing’s probably done enough running to last it a lifetime. You caress the fur gently as you enter the forest, the moon now cloaked by the towering trees, stealing away your capacity for sight. It’s not something you inherently mind, honestly, it feels good to just close your eyes and relax.

But deep under the guilt and midlife crisis (probably more than midlife given the world you live in), you’re still you. And you get restless easily, not to mention you’ve been craving a conversation with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, and you don’t want to pass up the chance.

“How bad was it?”

Okay, maybe not the conversation started you should have chosen.

“Bad,” Levi answers without much hesitation, “really bad.” He releases a shaky breath and on impulse you place your hand over his, immediately feeling awkward right after. Do you grip his fingers? Pat him in a show of solidarity? You don’t know, so you don’t do anything, but you don’t remove your hand either.

After a beat, he says, “I was wrong.”

You wrack your brain about what he could be wrong about. Maybe about asking you to come with him just now. Your company hasn’t exactly been what you would call pleasant.

“About what, sir?”

When Levi responds, you feel his hot breath on your neck and you barely stop yourself from shuddering. He shouldn’t be in such close proximity to you. Doesn’t he know what he does to you when he gets this close?

“I said I wanted to see the day that smile got wiped off your face. Now that the day’s here, I wish I could take it back.”

You whip your head around, not even bothering to make sure you don’t accidentally hit him. Luckily you don’t, even though he’s not far from you at all, just a centimeter closer and the tip of your nose would touch his. In the dark, you can barely make him out, but the grey eyes that have fascinated you for so long are discernible even without any light. He’s watching you, so intently that your face burns up, and you pray to whoever’s up there that he can’t see you too well without the moonlight.

But can anyone blame you? Lieutenant Levi, the man who’d punished you for smiling, was now claiming that he missed the very smile that had made you the bane of his existence. You can’t chalk it up to his usual mood swings, because you know it’s not that. You know he’s trying to tell you something, and you’re so close to figuring it out.

You don’t even flinch when his finger curls under your chin and tilts it up just a bit so he can appreciate the view properly.

Even in the dark, you know his lips are just a mere inch away from yours. You wonder what he tastes like.

No.

You turn back around, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It’s wildly inappropriate to think about doing something like that. You can’t, not when he’s your trainer and lieutenant and humanity’s savior. Whatever this is, you have to reel it in control.

“I can’t,” you say, and then quickly clarify so he doesn’t get the wrong idea, “I can’t smile. Not when so much has happened. How can I smile when people...when they’re out there...when you and the rest of the soldiers have sacrificed everything and I’ve done nothing?”

It’s not as though you expect him to give you the most motivational speech in the world, but when he answers, “You’re going to sacrifice plenty in the future,” you feel overwhelmed with guilt, and you just want it to stop. He doesn’t know. Doesn’t know your plans, your motivations, or why you’re here at all. He thinks you’re someone that you’re really, truly not.

But you’re not brave enough to tell him any of that. So you opt for the other truth, the less relevant but equally as pressing one.

“I’m not strong enough.”

“No,” Levi murmurs in agreement, “but you’re going to be.” Both his arms are curled around you, and there’s something uplifting in his tone when he says, “4 AM tomorrow, understood?”

Just like that, your goal changes.

If the lieutenant thinks that you can actually be useful, then maybe...maybe you actually can. You’ve somehow gotten in the top ten without even meaning to, so it’s not too much of a stretch to think you could be really good if you actively tried. And he’s still willing to train you - even after all that’s happened, he doesn’t consider you an added bother to his already difficult life. And you plan to value that, now. You’re going to get better, stronger, faster. No more passivity. And maybe if you do this, you can ease the guilt brewing inside before you completely drown in it.

“Yes, sir.”

Determination has risen back inside you, but a ghost of a smile only reappears on your face when you hear him yawn, something you���re one hundred percent sure you’ve never seen nor heard before.

“Are you actually sleepy, Lieutenant?” you tease quietly, “it’s not even 11 PM yet.”

“You should be happy,” he mutters, “all your efforts trying to chase away my insomnia and it’s finally worked.”

If not for the trees providing you safety in the form of the absence of light, you wouldn’t be as bold to do what you do next. Closing your eyes, you lean back and hunch down, resting your cheek against his chest. He stiffens a little at the close contact, but doesn’t say anything or push you away. You won’t kiss him, but you can allow yourself this much, just to seek comfort in the safety he provides just by being there. He’s so, so warm.

The horse rides on, and Levi keeps his arms around you and on the reigns.

Truthfully, as you listen to his heartbeat, you don’t think you’ll ever know who comforts who most tonight.

____________________

The next morning, you’re there before he is, on your fourth lap by the time he walks up. If Levi’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. He only takes his new spot on the new grounds at this new base, and watches you from afar.

Naturally, he still barks at you that your stance is sloppy when you start doing your squats, asking you snidely how many times he’s told you that you need to squat down at a ninety degree angle and just what you did in your early mathematics classes if that’s what you think ninety degrees is. He still presses you into the ground with his foot when you attempt to do a push-up without going all the way down. And he absolutely still withholds your water privileges until you’re practically dizzy from your activities.

Except this time, you have no complaints. You do what you’re ordered.

And maybe stop to give him one or two pointed glares.

When he dismisses you, you find that you’ve still got a bit of energy left. You’re certainly not sleepy.

“Will you spar with me?”

Levi raises a brow, unimpressed. “So you can get your ass handed to you again?”

“I’ve improved!” you cry out indignantly.

“Oh yeah, you’ve made great strides.” He snorts, digging his heel into the ground and raising his fists. “Okay, (L/N), give me your best shot.”

With Lieutenant Levi, the thing that matters most is the element of surprise. Last time, you went for his legs, so he’ll see that coming. You quickly scan his stance - how is it that you two have spent so much time together and you still haven’t located a single weakness of his? Not that that’s what you’re doing anymore, but it would sure be helpful in a fight. Needless to say, you need to think fast.

So before either of you can move, you cry out in pain, clutching your side. “Shit! I - I think I pulled a muscle - ow, fuck -”

Levi’s beside you in an instant, hand reaching down to inspect your stomach. Damn, you’re a better actor than you give yourself credit for. As soon as he reaches out, you grab his bicep with both your hands, plant your feet, and yank up as hard as you can.

No, you probably can’t throw him over your shoulder. But you can at least try to whirl him around you and then tackle him while he tries to regain his balance.

Well, you could if Levi didn’t twist his arm out of your grasp within a single second and grab you in a chokehold.

“Playing dirty, are we?” he whispers in your ear, “naughty girl, I should keep you here an extra hour just for that.”

Gasping for breath, you pat his elbow repeatedly in defeat. Surrender, you surrender! After holding on to lord his victory over you just a little longer, he lets you go, and you suck air into your lungs desperately.

He doesn’t make you stay any longer, but nonetheless, you certainly lose your brawl. How disappointing.

“I’ll...get you...next time…”

Levi’s lips quirk into what can be taken for a smile. “No, you won’t.”

“Yes I will!”

____________________

You lose the next time.

____________________

And the next time.

____________________

And the next.

____________________

It’s a whole two months later when Ricky laughs again.

There’s nothing funny about the situation at all - everyone is freezing their ass off in the middle of nowhere and questioning just how surviving a snowy mountain is going to improve their combat skills. No one was brave enough to ask this question before, though, so now all they can do is deal with it. The problem is that your group is definitely lost.

“Well, this is great,” Gunther groans, sinking on his knees into the snow. You wonder how he can handle the cold biting past his clothes and into his skin.

Ophelia, who’s been pessimistic since the beginning, seems to take this as her permission to sling her bag off and completely give up. “We’re going to die up here.”

You huff. “We’re not going to die, but yeah, we’re gonna lose some merit. They’ll probably send a search party by morning.”

“T-tell us, (F/N),” Gunther says in that smarmy tone of his that makes you pity his parents, “how exactly are we going to make it till morning? You got a fur coat hiding away in those custom boots?”

Ophelia snorts and you narrow your eyes at him. “If I did, I wouldn’t share it. And they’re not custom, it’s actually a very popular brand item.”

“Well, mind trading with me? All I have are these ratty ones.”

“I do mind, actually.”

Ricky hasn’t said anything, only observed your interactions with a blank expression. You let out a pained breath, filled with disdain at seeing your precious oxygen visibly. Yeah, you’ve decided you’re not a fan of the cold, not one bit. You’re already one of those people who is cold all the time, and this isn’t really helping. Apparently no one has any idea, and although Gunther was assigned team leader, you decide to step in.

“We have two options.” You hug yourself, rubbing your arms in an unsuccessful attempt to warm up. “We could try to find some shelter and stay alive till morning, or…” You sigh, not really a fan of all the work that goes into option two, but it’s still the one you’re leaning towards. “Or we get our shit together and find out how to get back to the cabin tonight.”

You’ve got something to prove, after all.

Ophelia’s teeth are chattering as she says, “W-where the h-hell will we find shelter out here?”

“Nowhere. That’s why we’re gonna go with the other idea.”

“Someone’s eager to hold onto her position,” Gunther accuses, “even if it means sacrificing her team!”

“Oh my God, who am I sacrificing? Who have I sacrificed so far? No one!”

“Yet!”

You make a rude gesture and stalk off on your own. The others call after you, but only Ricky follows, grabbing your shoulder before you misstep and tumble into the icy ground. You groan loudly, this is so not how the night was supposed to go. You have to make it back.

“You’ve changed,” Ricky says all of a sudden. “I’ve known that for a while, and I know that we all have, but you’ve done a complete turnaround. I mean…” He hesitates, considering his words carefully. You wonder if he knows that just by doing that, he’s showing that he’s changed quite a bit too. “You would have decided to give up on this by now. So what’s the deal?”

Honestly, it’s surprising that it’s taken him this long to ask. Nonetheless, these days you’re glad to hear Ricky speak at all, so anything he says is welcome. That doesn’t mean you know how to answer his question, though.

“Like you said, we’ve all changed. I just decided to…” You trail off and shiver, rubbing your hands together.

“Give a shit?”

You give him a weak smile. “Yeah.”

Ricky nods, looking satisfied enough with the answer. There’s a slight shift in his expression as he peers at you. “It’s not out of pity, right?” When you look confused, he clarifies. “Not out of pity for me. I know I don’t matter that much to you - I just mean, if you feel bad for everything that’s happened, to everyone, you shouldn’t.”

Scoffing, you glare at him, with crossed arms. “Who said you don’t matter to me?”

“Do I?” He grins, looking genuinely surprised. “Me, the outer city peasant?”

This time you allow yourself to speak without thinking. Sometimes, the moment just calls for it. “Yeah, well, we rich folk have to do some charity work sometimes.”

That’s when Ricky laughs, and oh, how you’ve missed the sound. He throws his head back, looking up to the sky like he’s praying. Snowflakes coat his cheeks, and when he looks back at you, his eyes are bright, and he’s gazing at you in the same way you’re sure he once gazed at his poor, lovely little sister who couldn’t make it long enough to see her brother step up and become a hero of humanity.

Then he grabs your arm, yanking you forward.

“Come on, twerp.” He ignores your protests that his hand is freezing. “Let’s get you off this mountain.”

____________________

Okay, Petra definitely knows that you’re trying to compete with her for the number one position. She’s just too nice to say anything, so the two of you just silently try to outdo each other in every which way. Teacher asks a question in class? Either your hand or her’s will fly up right away. Grumman walks by? Well, the two of you are saluting faster than anyone else can even ball their fist. There’s an advanced exercise at 2 PM? You both finished your exercises early and are there at 1:30.

You’re not even sure when you started competing with her, but here you are.

And to be fair, you’re neck and neck with the star student. In classes, you’re basically equal, her because she works hard and studies and you because you retain information well and can play suck up rather well. As for hand to hand combat, you pretty much top your entire Cadet Corp except maybe Traute. When people are paired up to train to steal the knife from each other, no one ever wants to partner up with you (which both hurts and is rather flattering). Yeah, in a fight, you’re pretty much secure. It’s the 3D maneuvering where Petra has you beat.

Now, you’re not bad at using your ODM gear, not by any means. She’s just a damn natural. Any maneuver that takes you five days to pull off is one she can manage in three. A part of you wishes that she actually was a horrible person - then you could at least use your dislike of her as a motivator to beat her. Alas, you’re quite fond of the other girl.

These complaints are what you find yourself telling Levi one morning, after requesting that he watch you fly through the forest. Nowadays it wasn’t entirely unusual for you to stay past 6 AM, either doing extra training or just talking to him. He’d complied, and you’d gotten gear for the both of you to use in the forest.

Seeing him in action only serves to make you even more grouchy about your own skills. Levi’s already fast enough on his feet; with the ODM gear he seems nearly invincible and you have an inkling he’s not performing to the best of his abilities just to monitor you. When you finally tire yourself out, you grumpily toss the gear off, head out into the grass, check for bugs and flop down onto your back once you’re sure it’s safe. “I don’t get it,” you moan unhappily, “why can’t I do it as well as you can?”

Levi steps in front of you, his head blocking out the rising sun. Ah, perfect. “It’s because you enjoy it too much.”

“Oh, is that your professional diagnosis?”

He sucks in a long breath, which you know translates to you’re so fucking difficult, damn shitty brat. “My professional diagnosis is that you’re a dumbass.”

“Aww, thanks, sir! But I only take medical advice from licensed professionals.”

Levi notes your position and moves out of the way to allow the sun to blind you. You wince, squinting in the sunlight, and your hand comes up to shield your poor eyes. Averting your gaze, you peer straight up. In the middle of spring, from the open grounds down below, the clouds have never looked more beautiful.

“Wanna lay down with me? It’s therapeutic. The grass feels great.” You beckon him down next to you, but he shakes his head, instead choosing to deliver a small kick to your side. You hiss - someone seriously needs to do something about the lieutenant’s violent tendencies.

“Do you think I’m doing this so you can look at the pretty sky?”

Tossing your arm over your eyes, you say, “No, you’re doing this because you’re interested in me.”

The sound that Levi lets out is so strangled that you immediately look at him, concerned. He turns away from you for a second, scoffing with his cheeks tinted slightly red, and that’s when you realize he took your statement in an entirely wrong way. You’re a bit offended nonetheless, he doesn’t have to act like it’s disgusting to even think about you in that way. People have been interested in you! It’s happened, you’re a delight! He’s just blind, that’s all.

“I meant interested in me as a subordinate.” You sit up, knees hunched to your chest. “Now that Commander Erwin is in charge, everyone knows you’re going to get promoted soon too. Get a whole squad all to yourself.” Grinning at him, you let your palms rest on the blades of grass beneath you. “Hunting for your own lieutenant, Captain Levi?”

Huh. The title rolls right off the tongue. It suits him pretty well.

He looks at you strangely for a second, before holding his hand out. As you tug yourself up, he mutters, “Please, if I was going to have a lieutenant, I’d need someone competent.”

“Well,” you drawl, not bothered, “I’m not interested anyways.” At least there, you’re being truthful. Even if the thought makes you feel ashamed.

You and him continue to bicker as you walk across the grounds to put the gear back in the shed. While you don’t exactly walk slowly, you don’t go at your fastest pace either, itching to prolong the time that the two of you share. A stark contrast to the first few weeks you trained with him, when all you could think about was going back to bed. Now, nearly a year and a half later, you’re not sleepy, you’re not angry, and you don’t hate him.

When it’s time to part ways, you pretend as though you’re studying him carefully.

“What?” Levi snaps, but there’s no bite to his bark.

“I stand by what I said earlier, about you wanting a lieutenant.” A small smirk spreads on your lips. “But I also think you just have a crush on me.”

He stares at you. A second passes. Two seconds.

Three seconds.

You burst out laughing, hitting his shoulder. “You should see your face! Did you think I was serious?”

He looks at you with his eyes narrowed crossly, only serving to make you laugh louder.

“Minx,” he finally says, shaking his head, “a fucking minx is what you are, (L/N).”

____________________

“It’s raining!”

The excitement with which you squeal those words has nearly everyone rolling their eyes, but they follow you out anyways. It’s nice of them to abandon their lunch for this momentous occasion, rain during the summertime. You feel a rush of love for your fellow cadets, specifically for the three people who are right besides you. Of course you’ve always considered Millie your best friend, but Ricky and Stephen had filled a piece of your soul that you didn’t know was empty. This is your family, and you love them.

“Stephen!” Millie’s voice comes, scolding next to you. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“He still doesn’t know what regiment he wants to join.”

“Leave him alone,” Ricky asserts, taking a swipe at her that she ducks.

“I know what I want to join,” Stephen mumbles, “I’m just not sure…”

Somehow, you know exactly what he’s considering. The rain gives you courage.

“The Scouts are wonderful.” Stephen turns to you, surprised, and you let out a giddy laugh. “They’re amazing. Brave, and heroic, and they kick ass. You’d do really well there, Stephen.”

You’re rambling, but by some miracle, Stephen takes your words to heart and makes his decision.

“Okay,” he says, with a wide smile on his face. “I’ll join the Scouts.”

Ricky coughs into his fist, something that sounds suspiciously like kiss ass. You’re too enthralled by your current environment to notice that, or Millie’s disapproving glare.

Bathing in the rain, you spin around until you’re dizzy. Droplets pour down your face, soaking your hair, your uniform, and you couldn’t be more thrilled. This, really, is what happiness is. The chance to fool around in the rainfall, to throw your hands up and feel precisely just how little of a speck you are in the vast, wide world. Slipping a hand into your bun, you let your hair down, closing your eyes as you soak up the thrill.

Everyone is chattering in groups around you. No one is mourning the lunch that has been long forgotten in the mess hall.

There’s grey eyes watching you when you open yours, a fond smile that you think he probably let slip past the tough exterior on his face. No one can resist this weather.

Maybe third time’s the charm. Even if it’s not, it doesn’t hurt to try, right?

You raise your hand and wave at him.

From the distance, still watching you closely, Levi sighs softly and then waves back.

Something you’ve never felt before bubbles up in your chest. It threatens to consume you as the others become a blur in the precipitation around you. You feel light on your feet, almost as though you’re not even touching the ground anymore. Affection? Adoration? For him?

Maybe it’s because of the stupid way he holds his teacup. Or maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the funniest, most ridiculous person he’s ever met. It might be how his touch always lingers, how he’s always warm, and how he never fails to catch you when you stumble. How about that dumb cravat, why is he always wearing that?

His sarcastic quips, always ready to fire back at you. The way he brushed your tears away that time he’d found you crying. How he never pushes you to open up more than you want to, and how truthful he is. The feeling you get when he smiles or laughs at you, knowing it’s a rarity for him. His eyes, a blend of silver and charcoal that you could stare into for hours and still never get tired of.

It’s here, dancing in the summer rain, that you realize something that really should have been painfully obvious. There’s a reason you notice all these things. There’s a reason your heart is fluttering right now. There’s a reason that time has frozen, and there’s a reason you feel like you’re floating a thousand miles up in the air.

It’s because you like him. You really, really like him.

Oh, shit.

reader on her first day: wow levi’s eyes are beautiful

reader whenever levi is in front of her: damn he is so alluring

reader every time levi so much as glances at her: does he like me?

reader for two years: if levi asked me to have sex with him i would

also reader: omg i have a crush on him??? how is that possible?????

falling for a guy just because he finally waved back at you after like sixteen months is kinda weird but you do you girl.

one chapter left! :O

[rentsturner]

Bruised Knuckles | Mark Renton

Warnings - Reader has punched a wall, mentions/descriptions of injury, mentions of (non-specified) scars, alcohol and drugs, content that some people may find as very similar to self-harm, reader is paranoid and insecure. If any of this triggers you pls don’t continue to read. I’ve tried to note all the possible triggers.

wc - 1.7k

a/n - I’ve had a pretty shitty few days tbh and I still feel the lowest that I’ve felt in months. So I’ve channeled all of that into this fic. It’s quite angst heavy but there’s fluff at the end (what can I say, hurt and comfort is my shit). You may find the reader’s emotions a bit dramatic but I’ve basically self projected on to this and I’m not rlly arsed. Read the warnings and if you don’t like it, don’t read it. I don’t want any shit over this

It’s a cold day in Edinburgh, the skies grey and cloudy over the city.It’s been a long day without Mark. He’s been out since the early hours with Sickboy, no doubt dragged into another of Si’s infamous schemes, leaving you to spend the day alone in your tiny apartment. As much as you don’t want to admit it, the isolation has gotten to you - you slipped, more than once. Yeah, you regret it, but also there’s that nagging need for more at the back of your mind. You try to push it out, to forget about it, but the cold in the air doesn’t help to ease the ache in your knuckles.

The door to the apartment shuts with a click and a jangle of keys, footsteps heading towards the door. He’s back. A wave of relief, before you remember and your chest clenches in panic.

‘Alright, love?’ Mark flops onto the bed with a lazy grin, stretching his arms up over his head.

‘Yeah, fine, you?’ Keep it simple. You busy yourself with a stack of books by the bed, straightening the pile of novels so it’s not about to topple over. Keep the hand busy.

‘Yeah, alright. Si led us on a fucking wild goose chase but we got there in the end, y’know?’

You didn’t know, but you nodded along anyway and let him recount the story. You’re admiring the way his lashes flutter against his pale skin and how his arms flex as his hands come to rest behind his head, when you realise that Mark’s stopped talking. And you’ve stopped moving.

‘Your knuckle...” his eyes dart down to the hand you’ve been trying to hide ever since he walked through the door. Busted.

‘Oh.’ You move to get up, anything to get his eyes away from your swollen knuckles, red lines criss crossing over the flowering purple bruises where your hand collided with a solid wall. Multiple times. The open cuts are still weeping, even though it had happened hours ago.

‘It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.’ You offer a small smile, but it doesn’t fool Mark.

‘No.’ He moves as you do, standing in front of the bedroom door to block your escape. His arms are crossed over his chest, stance serious , but the worry in his blue eyes betrays him. ‘Love. Let me see it.’

He holds out his hand, pale fingers reaching out to you, his skin just as scarred as yours - different actions, same result. He knows how to help. The hand reaching,an offer of support, reassurance, love, all those things that you crave but can never admit. Emotions aren’t your forté - never have been.But Mark knows that. There’s no secrets between you. You almost laugh out loud at the thought. No secrets, but you won’t even show Mark your hand.

Mark would do anything for you, you know that - he tells you all the time. Days spent in bed chatting shit to each other.

‘I’d run to John O'Groats and back for you, y’know?’

‘Would you now, Mark? What about down to Land’s End?’

‘In a heartbeat.’

Bright eyes, wide smile. Your Mark. He’s joking, of course, but his tone is so serious, his answer without a second of hesitation. Your heart skips a beat.

So now, you give him your hand (and your heart).

He takes it tentatively, one cold hand underneath, the other poking at your raw knuckles gently. When one of his prods reaches a tender spot, you wince and he moves his finger away, meeting your gaze in apology.

‘You punch something?’ His brow creases, a hand running instinctively over his closely cropped hair, before scratching at the back of his neck. He refuses to grow it out, no matter how much you try to persuade him, still getting his razor out every other month like clockwork.

‘It’s easier this way.’ He insists. Less hassle in the morning is what he means.

The sting in your hand brings you back to the present.

‘No.’ You look away from Mark’s gaze, knowing that in doing so you’ll give yourself away, but not having the energy or willpower to stop yourself. Much like the ‘incident’ earlier in the day.

‘I’m going to take that as a yes.’ Mark huffs, not in anger, but in frustration - frustration that he wasn’t there to help, to calm you down. ‘Let me clean it up, give me a sec.’

His hand rubs at his eyes, scrunched shut for a moment. There’s dark bags marring his pale skin there - he’s tired too. He goes to move to the bathroom, but you grab his arm with your good hand, gripping it as tight as you can. Don’t leave.

‘No, Mark, it’s alright, I’ll sort it.’

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t look happy. Not that you’d expect him to, but...he’s frustrated with you, you can tell.

‘You can’t clean yourself up with one hand. Just wait here, alright?’

The inkling is worming its way in now, from your subconscious to your conscious, until its at the forefront of your mind. He’s angry, he’s disgusted, he’s going to leave. He’s not going to the bathroom, he’s going to the front door so he can get out of here. You’re sure of it.

‘I’m sorry.’ The whisper escapes you and you have to bite the inside of your cheek so no tears will spill. The words are almost silent, your hand dropping Mark’s in defeat.

But Mark turns his head at your weak apology, stopping in his tracks.

‘What? Why -‘

With a jolt, he notices the way you’ve changed - unable to look at him, arms beginning to wrap around yourself, one fist clenched. He knows what’s happening.

‘No, no, love, I’m not angry.’

He’s back at your side in a heartbeat, bringing his hand up to your chest, thumb carefully wiping away the rogue tear that’s tracking a salty path over your cheekbone.

‘I love you. I just want the best for you, alright? I don’t like seeing you hurt, just like I’d fucking hope you wouldn’t like seeing me hurt.’

His face breaks into a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you realise he’s right - of course he is. You don’t want to see him hurt, he’s been through enough, but that’s what you’re doing. He’s hurting just from seeing your hand, it’s obvious from the crease in his brow, the blue of his eyes dulled and flat. Mark’s got too much to deal with already, you’re just one extra problem to add to the mix. You don’t want to be his problem.

And suddenly it’s all coming up to the surface, ready to combust, explode, these emotions that you never really have a grip on. You bottle them up and push them down, so far down that the only way they can escape is through a rush of anger, jagged and uncontrollable.

But instead of that, you bury your face into Mark’s neck and let it out as slowly as you can.

‘I’m sorry, I was angry, I just wanted to feel something. Some pain. I don’t want to make you feel like this. I’m sorry.’

You’re clutching onto the worn fabric of Mark’s shirt like your life depends on it. You can’t possibly let go of him, the only one you have left.

Mark is steady, your rock in a storm of emotions. He listens, stroking your hair, pale fingers threading through the strands to knead at your scalp, knowing it tends to calm you down.

‘You’re alright, I promise. I promise you, love. I know you get angry. I know you. And I know what it’s like to want to feel something, trust me. We can get through it together, or we can be a mess together. I don’t care, as long as we’re together, honest. I’m not going anywhere.’

And the sincerity in his eyes, those familiar bright blue eyes, it convinces you. He means it.

You stay like this for a few minutes, your good hand clinging onto Mark’s ratty jumper, the other grasped tightly (but not too tightly) in Mark’ grip. His right arm is around your waist, pulling you closer, as if in doing so he can pour all of his reassurance, all of his love, directly to your heart. He knows it’s not possible. But he tries anyway. Because he’ll do anything for you. Your Mark.

Mark helps you clean your hand later, shushing you everything you wince (though that isn’t often). His hands are steady and practiced as he dabs at the cuts with alcohol, wrapping the gauze over your knuckles and securing it with some tape, humming to himself as he works, the steady tune in time with his deft movement. He doesn’t look up until the job is done - and a good job it is too. He knows what he’s doing, probably after years of wrapping Sickboy’s hands up in the same way - late nights out in the rough streets of Leith, fuelled by alcohol and amphetamines (and worse)

Mark kisses the bandages gently when he’s done - a silent ‘I love you. I care for you and I love you.’

And you smile, a smile that fills your whole body with warmth, a smile that drowns out the demons, if only for a little while. Because how can you not, when you have Mark. He tries his best and so do you - neither of you can ask anymore. You’ll be a mess together.

‘Let’s order Chinese and watch Dr No, eh?’

Or you’ll get through this together

*~*~*~*

@callmearwen @ohhellokenobi @darthserling @stardancerluv @goldenkenobi @lunarthoughts @saintlaurentkenobi @million-dollar-legs @i-am-i-am-obiwankenobi @letmybabysleep @haydens-moles @alideetoo @all-hallows-evie @junkieboyfriend @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @star-whores-a-new-hoe @arianalilyblack @sigynragnarsdottir @funkytxwn @drinksomecoco @darlingkenobi

[toutallyahoe]

LUCKY ~ Matsukawa Issei (Haikyuu) (2/?)

requested by: --

pairing(s): matsukawa issei x [name]

warnings: cursing, oikawa bullying

a/n: i just found out how to do the freaking "keep reading" thing for my post

yall finally dont have to scroll long now asdfghjkskdhjsf im so sorry for being an idiot and not knowing how to do it sooner yall (´；ω；｀)

anyways, more mattsun simping

chapter one | chapter two |

A WEEK HAD PASSED BY after that event where the males volleyball club— or at least for Oikawa Tōru, had known that one of the resident fucklords of the males volleyball club of Aoba Johsai, Matsukawa Issei (also known as the very ridiculous nickname "Mattsun" courtesy by the dumbass named Oikawa Tōru) was dating the student council president, [Last name] [Name].

"Mattsun!!! How does it feel like dating Brickwall-san?!?"

And it seemed like Oikawa Tōru, the oh so perfect male of Aoba Johsai (but resident dumpster trash and alien weirdo for his teammates and friends) was still not over the fact that Issei was dating [Name], or currently known as "Brickwall-san" by the chocolate brown haired male.

Currently, the four third years were in the gym's changing room. The practice for the day was already done and they were in the middle of changing while the rest of the team were already finished since they weren't actually wasting their time. Not like these four, well, three as the black haired ace unfortunately had to keep an eye to the two crackheads and trashy asshole that he call his teammates and friends.

"Are the rumors about him being a good kisser true?!?" Tōru asked without shame whatsoever as the unfortunate best friend of Tōru, Iwaizumi Hajime only let out a tired sigh at the volleyball captain's question.

Hajime was already so done with trying to stop Tōru for asking any more dumb questions as the chocolate brown haired male just couldn't stop. This wasn't his fucking job, goddammit. Iwaizumi Hajime wanted to fucking die right now. What a mood.

Hanamaki Takahiro, who was beside Issei looked at Tōru with a raised brow. The light brown (pink???) haired male mischievous smirked as his eyes shined in a sick sense of amusement. And not far behind him, Issei had that same look of mischievous amusement aswell.

The volleyball team's ace could only let out another tired sigh as he began to rub his temple, feeling the incoming headache already as he muttered curses underneath his breath. This wasn't his fucking job. He wasn't a fucking babysitter goodammit, so why does he have to deal with this bullshit?

"Eh? Why do you want to know?" Takahiro asked as he gave the third year setter a look yet the grin on his lips never leaving nor the amusement in his eyes. "Is Shittykawa interested on Prez?"

"You better not Loserkawa," Issei merely said with a smile, sending the volleyball captain an amused look but his eyes held a small glint of something neither any of the team can pin point what it was. But the volleyball captain felt a shiver down his spine. It was oddly terrifying and Tōru doesn't want to die, thank you very much.

"Wow, someone's territorial," Takahiro quietly snickered as he stopped himself from laughing when his friend had sent him a look and then elbowing him.

It seemed like it took a moment for the third year setter to realized what Takahiro had just said about him liking [Name], and it immediately made Tōru want to gag. The said male let out sputters as Tōru's face bloomed red. Head furiously shaking as he crossed his arms like an "x" formation in his chest.

"H-hah?!? Makki I am not!!!" Tōru screamed. Face horrified as he imagined himself liking the [Hair color] haired male. As if!!! That guy gave him the shivers and not in a cutesy way but the one with creeps!!! "I can't even imagine him even dating anyone!!!"

"Oi, [Last name]-san is literally dating your teammate, Dumbkawa," Hajime had said in annoyance as he punched the chocolate brown haired male on the back of his head. Tōru only cried out in pain as he rubbed his head to ease up the ache he was feeling.

"Wah! Iwa-chan your so mean!"

"Well, Weirdkawa is not wrong," Issei has said as both Tōru and Hajime paused and looked at him, confused while Takahiro laughed at their dumbfounded look aswell as the words coming out of his friend's mouth. "I don't even know how he is dating me," Issei said as he finished buttoning his uniform.

"Mattsun... what?" The chocolate brown haired male managed to said as he looked at the black haired middle blocker with a look of confusion while the said male shrugged his shoulders with a small grin on his lips.

"What? [Name] is still a mystery to me too," Issei had said.

"You both are gay for each other, end of discussion," Takahiro butted in as he then turned to the volleyball captain.

"But Asskawa, why would you ask if he is a good kisser?" Takahiro asked as Issei nodded beside him. Neither of the two didn't mind Tōru crying on the different insulting nickname they used to call him.

"Mattsun, Shittykawa is trying to steal Prez away from you!" The light brown (maybe pink, no one fucking knows) haired male said in very obvious tone of sarcasm yet Tōru didn't seemed to caught on to it that Takahiro was joking. Man, what a dumbass.

"Makki!!! I do not!!!" Tōru cried as he made disgusted faces. Oikawa Tōru seriously doesn't want anything to do with the oh so loved (and also terrifying for most of the Aoba Johsai population) student council president that was [Name].

"You can have him all to yourself Mattsun!!!" Tōru cried as he then yelped in pain when the black haired ace punched the back of his head hard.

"Can you shut up already, Shittykawa?!?" Hajime asked in annoyance as he began to beat the volleyball captain while both Takahiro and Issei snickered as they watched the ace pummel their captain. Still sadistic assholes, the two were.

"Um, senpais?" The four stopped and looked at the entrance of the changing room to see Kindaichi Yūtarō who looked a bit nervous.

"Oh, Kindaichi!" Tōru happily said. The volleyball captain was rather happy to see his junior as Yūtarō's appearance managed to make Hajime's brutal beating to a hold. "What do you need?"

With that, Yūtarō straightened himself as he bowed. "Excuse me for disturbing any of you," Yūtarō apologized as he stood back up and turned to look at Issei who rosed a brow at him. "But [Last name]-senpai is here and is asking for Matsukawa-senpai!"

"Ah, looks like your bae is here Mattsun!" Tōru had said as he was the first one to realized what their junior has said. The volleyball captain wasted no time to teased Issei who didn't even give a single glance at him as the black haired middle blocker nodded at Yūtarō.

"Thanks," Issei had said as the first year once again bowed and then went back outside the changing room and go who knows where.

"Mattsun is walking home with his boo," Takahiro had teased as he patted the black haired middle blocker's back. Giving Issei a smile when the male turned to roll his eyes at him. "Enjoy your time with your boo, dickhead."

"Your just sad because your single, bitch," Issei had said as he stuck his tongue out at Takahiro who snorted at his words.

"Fuck you, man."

"Nah, [Name]'s got that covered."

The two friend snickered at their words as both Tōru and Hajime looked at each other and then shrugged. They would've butted in but it seemed like the two fucklords were in their own world.

It took a minute or so, and then Issei was already finishing on changing to his uniform as he took his bag from the bench that was inside the changing room. The black haired male was already at the doorway fo the changing room when he stopped and and gave a mocking salut to the three third years.

"Later bitches," Issei had bid as Tōru whined on being insulted as Hajime sighed and slapped the back of the captain's head which earned more cries from the chocolate brown haired male while Takahiro rolled his eyes.

"Hope you got run over by a truck while Prez watches, you dick," Takahiro hollered as Issei turned to give his friend a middle finger while the said male stuck his tongue out and did the same aswell.

"Bitter bitch!"

"Dumb dick!"

"Can you two not be vulgar?!?"

"But Iwa-chan, you use those words too— AHH NOT THE FACE PLEASE!!!"

   "Did you wait long?" Issei had asked as he approached the [Hair color] haired male who shook his head. Issei smiled at that.

"Not really," [Name] had said as Issei had walked beside him. The black haired male then immediately grabbed his hand and [Name] didn't mind. He always liked when Issei's hand was intertwined with his. "Did you have fun with practice?" [Name] had to bit back a smile that was threatening to come its way to his lips as he heard Issei groan.

"It was tiring," Issei had said as he pouted. "Dumbkawa was also being annoying, like always," Issei added which made [Name] softly chuckle.

"Isn't he always?" The [Hair color] haired male had said as Issei let out a snort at his words. The black haired male gave [Name] a grin, eyes gleamed with joy.

"Yeah, your right about that."

With a hum, [Name] squeezed Issei's hand as he began to walk. "Come on, let's head back home already."

"Yeah, yeah, Prez."

"Please don't call me that."

< prev | next >

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T.Shelby Imagine Ch. 25

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 18,006

WARNINGS: Angst, Cursing, Fluff, Continuous First Person to Third Person POV Shifts, ONE! Tom Third Person POV, Self-harm, Alcohol, SMUT! (NSFW): oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

Summary: It’s March of 1922, Ali’s nearing the end of her stay with the Shelby’s. After years of waiting, she’s finally ready to move on, but will fate let her. 

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER 24.2  CHAPTER 26

A/N: This chapter contains some POV switches as will the next chapter! Y’all know the deal. Black line breaks are there as a warning for the self harm scene. Only 1 ‘n it’s small! 

Smut is finally here! I haven’t written a SMUT scene in forever, so I fear I’m a little out of touch. 

It’s March of 1922 and things are going great! Well, not really, I had a mental breakdown so... I mean, not as bad as my last one, which was like a year ago. But, I was coming to terms with the fact that I killed someone! Someone who I did not have a paid hit on, but I murdered out of pure hatred. 

So, I had to do some inner reflection on that, and it would have gone a lot smoother if I had chosen to stop doin’ my side job. But I didn’t. I kept on with my “assassinating.” 

So was I really healed? Probably not, but hey! I don’t think about it anymore. I did it, I got away with— let’s move on. The guy was a douche anyway. Probably did society a favor. 

Yeah…

Right now I was cleaning up at Cassie’s flat. The gang was coming over soon, and I had to get the blood of a client off of me. The job was easier than most. I infiltrated another big party, seduced the target, and shot them in the chest and in the head. It’s a rule of thumb I have that I took from Zombieland. I got some blowback on me, so that’s why I’m taking a shower.

I’m not in the best of spirits tonight. Why, you may ask? Well, it’s because Michael and Arthur were to be arrested tonight. The only reason I knew was because Moss tipped me off. He caught me while I was visiting his wife. He took me aside and told me that Campbell had reason to arrest Michael, and he told me when it was going to take place.

The only reason why he was letting me know was because Campbell had his own plans for me. He didn’t know if Campbell wanted me arrested, but if I was on the scene— I was to be taken in. 

Let me tell you, I was so fucking proud of myself for befriending Moss’s wife! The single best thing I ever did. I mean, I knew I would be “bailed out” in no time thanks to all my rich mates, but Michael would still be in the clink. I think. I could ask around for some connections, if I needed to or was asked.

But, yeah. Michael and Arthur were being arrested tonight while I was at Cassie’s. Of course I felt guilty that I couldn’t prevent it, but it’s not like I could in the first place. That would mess with the timeline too much. 

Eventually, I got out of the shower, dried off, and put on my underwear. I’ve been trying to get more comfortable with my breasts, so I haven’t been wearing my bra to bed. In nothing but my towels and underwear, I walked out into the room.

“So,” I began while walking over to the bed, where I had my clothes laid out. “What’s on tonight’s agenda? Some heavy flirting? A therapy session? Or some good old fashion gambling?”

Cassie giggled, a pillow in her grasp as she threw open her arms. “All of it, babes!”

I chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.” I dropped my towel and put on my dress. It was a velvet robe-like dress. Very flowy and comfortable, though it had a deep v-neck. Again, trying to get comfortable with my tits. Luckily, this process has been going on for a while and Dougie and Horace are now used to seeing a bit of my cleavage.

The pair do not regard me as anything more than a mate. Dougie is like my male twin flame while Cassie’s my female twin flame. They just match my vibe so fucking well! While Horace...well, he only has eyes for Angie. We bond pretty well academically, though. He answers a lot of questions I have pertaining some of the hypotheticals I conjure while writing.

After I put on my dress, I lotioned up my legs and arms before moving on to caring for my hair. I was brushing it out when the gang came in.

Dougie came up to me and kissed my temple before heading toward the table with the rest of the group. I hurriedly scrunched up my hair as I desperately wanted to join the conversation in fear of being left out. 

I threw my hair towel aside and quickly shuffled to the table. Cassie saw me coming and got up from her seat.

While beckoning me to her, she said. “Ali, c’mere.” 

I sat in her chair and once I was settled down, she sat on my lap. I sighed before asking, “So, what are we playing first?”

Cassie was sitting on my lap sidesaddle. She reached over on the table to the carton of ciggies that someone had thrown, tapped it on the bottom before pulling two out. 

With a ciggie hanging from her mouth, Angie replied while shuffling the cards. “We decided on Go Fish. Your favorite.” She winked at me and I returned it.

I giggled before accepting the ciggie Cassie held for me. She rested hers on her lip and just as she went to lit it— Dougie leaned over to us.

“Here, just use mine.” He said while pressing the end his ciggie to hers. 

Muffled, Cassie replied. “Thanks.” She looked back to me, took my face in her hands, and connected the ends of our ciggies. Basically, repeating what she’d just done with Dougie.

I swear to God, this group is so sus. And I think I’m partially at fault for how close and open the group is. I’m sorry, okay, I’m a physical person and I cut through the bullshit with the people I hold dear!

Angie dealt the cards, and I slid them closer to my face. I was exhaling when Cassie decided to start the conversation flow again.

She asked. “So Tina, how’s your married man? What was his name again?”

Tina tsked, a scowl on her face. “Darren, his name’s Darren. And, he’s fine...”

I raised an eyebrow. “Just fine? Who the hell’s starting?”

Angie cleared her throat. “I dealt so Douglas goes. Cassie’s sitting in your lap, so either you or her is next and vise versa. Then, Tina goes and finally Horace before me.”

I nodded as a quiet “oh” escaped my mouth. I looked back over at Tina.

Tina replied. “Yes, just fine.”

“So, has he filed for a divorce from his wife? Any sevens?” Dougie asked.

Horace and Angie gave him their cards.

Tina pouted, her arms crossing defensively. “He—! He’s been avoiding the question.”

All of us shared a glance and some of us hummed.

Dougie asked. “Any fives?”

“You know, statistically and due to England’s current standpoint on divorce— Darren is less likely to actually ask his wife for a divorce. There is an even lesser probability that the divorce would even be granted in a court of law—” 

The four of us girls shouted. “Go fish!”

“--because we’re obsessed with this “Christian purity.” And, his wife would have to be the adulterer. And as it stands right now only he has—!” Horace was spewing before he was cut off. His face contorting in pain before hunching over. 

Collectively, we all glanced at Tina, who was not holding up well. 

This was not going good, and the urge to tell her that I told her so, was not helping. She should just dump him, but eh, who was I to judge? 

I cleared my throat before holding my ciggie away from my lips, and asking through an exhale, “Anyone got any Queens?”

Cassie didn’t hesitate to give me two. I took the two I had in my hands and laid the four cards on the table. 

“Anyone got any nines?”

Angie threw one of her cards to me. Cassie passed it to me before looking over to Tina.

She said. “Well, Tina. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll support you. If ya want to stay with him, or leave him. We’ll be right here for ya.” 

All of us tried comforting her ‘n all we managed to get was a small smile in return. It didn’t reach her eyes, I knew that. However, I really wanted to have a good time so I was looking to change the subject. 

‘Just—! Anyone please talk about anything else!’

As I inhaled, I asked. “Any threes?”

“Go fish!”

I tsked.

I was laying down on the floor with Horace. Our arms were extended up in the air and we laid opposite to each other, if that made sense. Like basically, our heads were right next to each other. 

Our arms were in the air because I was playing with Horace’s fingers. Angie, Tina, Cassie, and Dougie were either sitting on the sofas/couches, or somewhere else in the room. He was a little drunk and wanted to calm down, so I offered to stay with him.

“So, how are things going with Angie, buddy?” I asked while still playing with his fingers.

He sighed and then chuckled. “Better. I think she… I think she’s beginning to like me back.”

I hummed and chuckled under my breath. “Well, don’t get too cocky there. She’ll knock back down a peg or two if she finds out that you’re feeling like that.”

Horace scoffed. “Don’t I know it. Hey! The only way she’d find out is if you tell her!”

My eyes widened and I spluttered rolling over to my sides. When I calmed down, I repositioned myself and grabbed hold of his fingers again. I sighed. “Well, that’s true but I promise I’ve never told her a thing.”

That’s a blag, I’m almost certain. It probably slipped from my tongue from time to time. 

I was running my fingertips over his short-cut fingernails while blowing raspberries. I took a deep breath before asking, “Well, you guys went on that date like last week, right? Angie’s told us some things, but how’d it go from your perspective?”

He blew raspberries before replying, “I think it went rather well. I mean she actually paid attention to me this time.”

I couldn’t help but snicker. “Oh my god, Horace!”

“It’s true! This time I felt like she was actually like looking at me. I don’t know. She’s hard to read sometimes, but it’s endearing, really.”

“So, you’re saying that you like the mysterious side to her?”

“Yeah. Yeah, in a way, I am.”

“So, if you discover all there is to her, do you think you will lose interest in her?”

Horace and I grew quiet. His arms flopped down to his side which I repeated. I rolled over to my side, an arm supporting my head as my other hand scratched away at the rug.

Horace mimicked how I was laying, so that we were facing each other, and he sighed through his nose. “I don’t think I’ll ever know everything about her. People typically evolve over time as do their curiosities and interests. So, I don’t think you nor I nor Angie will ever fully know one another. However, to answer your question, no, I don’t think I would lose interest in her even if I knew everything about her. I—! I’ve been in love with her since I was a child, so it would be pretty odd if I were to just lose interest once we were together. I mean, then why the hell did I waste all these years pinning after her. You know?”

I hummed and nodded. “I feel that.” I continued picking at the rug. “Hey, Horace?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, um. Basically, you know what, nevermind, it’s dumb.”

“No, come on. Ask me.”

“No—”

“Just ask me.”

I sighed and looked down. “Well, I wanted to ask you since you’re a guy ‘n all. Um, why doesn’t Tommy like me?”

Horace’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he jerked his body around a little. Basically, shaking on his side like a mermaid out of water would, but not as violent. “Now, Aliena. Do you want an honest answer, or do you just want one that will solidify the ideas you already have in your head?”

I chuckled, a small smile spreading across my face before I shouted. “Both!”

Horace rolled over to his back and I inched closer to him. I hovered above him as he spoke. “Okay, then. The honest answer is, well, why does anyone not reciprocate a person’s love? It could simply be because you’re not the person’s type, or there could be any other extenuating circumstance. Why—? Why does Angie not acknowledge my love when I’m obviously ready to give her my all? She just has her reasons. Now, I’m not her nor am I your Tommy, so I can’t speak for him. I don’t know why he won’t look your way. Only he could truly tell you.”

I blinked, my mood souring. I took a deep breath and reached up to fiddle with the collar of his white dress shirt. “And the answer that would solidify my thoughts?” I whispered.

We stared into each other’s eyes as he replied. “You met him too early in life. You met him too early in life, and now all he can see is that 16 year old girl. Not to mention the 12 year age gap! I mean it would probably be nothing, if the both of you had met now, as you are 20 and he’s 32, but you met when you were 16 and 28. I—! Don’t get me wrong a lot of men would have gotten with you being 28 and you being 16. So, regretfully, I have to applaud the man.”

I rolled my eyes.

“It’s the truth, Ali. Men are—! Men aren’t the best. I’ve learned more than enough of the struggle women go through because of men from Angie, believe me!”

“Oh, I believe you!”

We chuckled before falling to a silence. 

Horace continued. “There’s also your personality!”

My jaw dropped and my face contorted. I smacked his chest as I gasped. “What’s wrong with my personality!”

He raised his arms and tried defending himself from my attacks. A big ol’ smile on his face. “Ali, you’re very affectionate! Do you know that? God, I’d have believed that Cassie would have fought with you if she didn’t know about Tommy. It’s honestly rather settling to know that you actually have your heart set on someone ‘cause you’d have fooled the rest of us!”

I pouted. Still fiddling with his collar, I asked in a childish voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you flirt with everyone in the group. You know that, right? You sit on Douglas’s lap. You sit on my lap! You sit on Angie’s! You kiss us on the cheek. Dougie kisses your cheek or temple. Then, there’s your unique fashion sense. I’m not judging your choice to display what God gave you. Angie would kill me if I did! But, you can even ask Douglas, we—! Well, I! Don’t regard you all that innocent, anymore. If you get what I mean, I—!”

I waved my hands as a way to stop him from tripping himself over his words even more. “I, I know what you’re trying to say. I get it all the time. Your point is?”

Horace took a deep breath before rubbing his forehead and letting his hand rest there. “Well, don’t you think that a person will just either get used to the affection or eventually grow annoyed by it?”

I’m regretting talking to him entirely.

“I don’t act like that with him, Horace. He’s still my boss, you know. I—! I could never!”

His eyes widened. “O-Oh! Then, disregard that last statement. Uh...”

I mean, but I have thought about that. I debated whether or not my compassion and love for the man was being taken for granted. Well, that he was manipulating me into like placating his feelings. I’m more used to that treatment coming from girls. You know, they act like they’re sad just so that I can comfort them— that sort of thing! I don’t deny that it’s crossed my mind.

Horace cleared his throat. “Well, then, perhaps he’s the sort of man that can’t handle you. You’re very independent and upbeat. I mean you can be serious when the moment calls for it, but you’re quick to giggle. Maybe he just wants a damsel in distress. Maybe he wants a more serious, proud woman. Proud being opposite to your “down to earthness.” Is what I’m trying to say.”

I snickered. “Uh… Right, okay? That was a whole lot in a small package. Um, right, okay then! Well, thank you for giving me your most honest answers, sir.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome, madam.”

I snickered away while cringing and then stuck my tongue out at him. Eventually, we got up from the floor and rejoined the group. We chatted away while sipping our bevvies, and nursed our cigarettes before finding ourselves seated on the couches. 

Tina and Cassie were sitting on the couch opposite to Dougie and I. I was sitting rather close to him with my legs draped over his thighs. His right hand rested on my thigh while I ran my fingers through the back of his hair. 

Ah! I see what Horace was talking about. Yeah, all those Tik toks ‘n shit are coming back to me. Maybe I should ask Cassie how she feels about my touchiness? Oh, I definitely should. Great! Fucking dammit! Why did my love language have to be physical touch? 

He was telling me about his week when Angie’s voice was growing increasingly more loud by the second. She was pacing back ‘n forth in front of Horace, who was sitting on the arm of the couch.

Angie groaned exaggeratedly before snapping her fingers and shouting, “Ali, Ali! What about your opinion, eh? How do you feel living in these times while looking the way you do? Acting the way you do?”

I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced at both Cassie and Dougie. They both gave me shrugs. I sighed before pushing some of my hair away from my face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a drink in her right hand and waving about her left, she said. “Well, I mean you don’t conform to beauty standards. Right? Your hair is still very long, you typically wear what you want to wear. You enhance your curves and you know, embrace the waves in your hair. I mean that’s almost the total opposite of the way women dress today.”

I get that I was out of tune with the modern style, but she was making it sound like I was trying to be some sort of trendsetter.

I giggled and waved a hand and dismissed her comment. “I don’t know what to say. I wear what I want to wear. I—!”

“Exactly! Exactly. You wear what you want to wear. And, and you scrap with men. You fight your own battles. I mean—!”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Angie, Angie, wait a minute. I—! Look, we live one life. I intend on living it how I want. That’s all.”

She nodded. “I know! Exactly and that’s what I love about you. You don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks. You live your life the way you want, and I don’t know... Well, like tell us—! No, tell me how you do all this without worrying about snagging a man.”

Ah! And the other shoe drops. 

I sighed and rubbed my left eye. “Ah, okay. There we go, something I can answer. First and foremost, I dress and act however I want regardless of how a man sees me. How he chooses to warp me in his head, in anyone one’s head, is their problem. I will talk, dress, act, laugh anyway I want because at the end of the day— I have to live with myself and love myself. That’s how I go about my business.”

She began clapping and nodding, her lips pursed. 

Oh god, she was tipsy.

Angie snapped her fingers. “Exactly. And! And the beauty standards men put on us and other women expect each other to uphold is ridiculous. Like how the hell is one figure more attractive than another. Women are—! Women, men, everybody should be appreciated. Why, Why do we have to favor one type more over the other? I-I mean, I understand preferences but to subject people to a set criteria when some of us aren’t even capable of accomplishing that standard. It’s—! It’s preposterous.”

Angie raised her free hand to her forehead and she scratched it. “Take Aliena and Cassie for example, they can’t become more flat-chested. They can’t make them smaller. Nor, nor can they help their curvy figures! Why should society tell them to, you know, bind their breasts or something. Or to hide their figures in loose fitted clothing! They’re beautiful! Beautiful!”

All of us shared a glance at one another before bursting with laughter. We laughed so much that I’m sure all of our stomachs ached in pain. 

Through her laughter, Cassied rasped. “Angie, Angie sit the fuck down ‘n take a breather, hon’! For the love of...”

I chimed in. “Yes, please sit down before you blow a casket ‘n like faint or some shit.”

Angie pouted through a smile and plopped down on the couch. “I’m just saying. I mean Aliena, you exercise, right? Like, you work out in a way that a man does. Not just take strolls or ride bikes.”

I wiped under my eyes before nodding ‘n sniffling. “Yeah, I do. I exercise for myself. I don’t do it to please society or any man. I do it for me.” I shrugged my shoulders and turned my attention back to Dougie’s hair.

Angie snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “Thank you. I love you. Thank you. And that’s why I want to tear down Hollywood.”

“Ah—!” I snickered and shook my head before blowing her a kiss.

After that fiasco, things called down a bit ‘n I went back to talking to Dougie. He was tapping my thigh when he quickly picked up his head and said, “You know I finished developing the photos.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “The photos…? Oh, shit! The photos! How’d they come out?”

Some weeks ago, Dougie bought this camera and wanted to practice his photography skills. He loved the art, but it could never be his main job, for obvious reasons. His father was passing on the company to him, so we all know how that goes. Anyway, I made the suggestion that the gang could be like his practice models ‘n eventually I got everyone to agree.

It was fun, obviously! I helped position everyone and of course, I had to sneak in some 21st century gestures. I just hated that I wouldn’t be alive to see my grandbabies’ faces. I’ll break the timeline, just for this reason. To fuck with my descendents. 

During the day, we went to an empty grassland area and had like a cottagecore photoshoot. It was fucking fantastic! One thing from my bucket list I was lucky to complete. But at night, it was a more risque photoshoot. And yes, even Horace participated in it. I made him as did Angie.

Dougie smiled and nodded. “I think they came out to be pretty good. I’ll bring them next time. It just slipped my mind today.”

I psh-ed him and shoved his head away from me before throwing my head back in a cackle. We talked a bit more before I beckoned somewhere else. I eventually made it back to Cassie, and I was sitting on the couch while she was on the floor. I was messing around with her hair. Right now, I was making a bunch of braids. 

Cassie was eating some fruit while she was talking to Angie. “Okay, but like who was your first kiss?”

Angie hummed through hooded eyes with an arm hanging in the air. “Oh, it was Tina.”

I spluttered and began spazzing out. I scurried off the couch and started running around the room while shouting over and over again. “No way! No way! No fucking way!”

Cassie joined my freak out session by rolling around on the floor and slapping the couch behind her, where I was previously sitting. When I felt calm enough, I ran back to my spot.

I shouted. “No fucking way!”

Angie chortled. “What? Why is it such a big deal?”

“Uh...” Cassie and I just looked at each other. In an American accent, I said. “Well, I mean. I don’t wanna be a bitch, but like when I felt met y’all… You guys were kinda sus. Like Tina, full truth, I thought you had a humongous crush on Angie ‘n yeah so, um, yeah. Did y’all date or…?”

Angie’s eyes widened and she rose from Tina’s lap, who was stunned, by the way. Angie snatched a pillow from the couch and chucked it at me. 

“She’s. Just. Shy. And we were kids when we just did it! It was innocent.” Angie yelled. 

I cried out when the pillow hit me. Through my laughter, I replied. “I’m sorry!”

Angie huffed as she laid back down on Tina’s lap. “Yeah, yeah. You’re not the only one to think it. People just get the wrong idea. She’s just shy.” Angie reached up and caressed Tina’s face. “Oh, we’ve both kissed Horace, too.”

My jaw dropped and a hand flew over my mouth. I looked at Cassie and Dougie, who were just as shocked as me. I screamed into my hand and began running around the room again, only this time I wasn’t alone. Dougie was running in the opposite direction of me. 

He zipped over to Horace while I tackled Cassie on the couch. Well, I more like got her in a headlock ‘n swung her around a bit as I settled onto the couch. 

Tina groaned, averting her gaze from us before running a hand through her hair. She asked. “Well, who were your guys’s first kiss?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Ugh, I guess my first kiss was with my childhood best friend too. Name was Brooklyn.”

“Mine was with Mary, she was a classmate.” Cassie replied.

Angie tsked. “See a girl, right? Why are you harping on us for?”

Cassie and I just shrugged. It was like we had this silent agreement that we weren’t gonna bring up the fact that we kissed each other on the lips as a greeting and a farewell.

“Hey, do you guys think I would look hotter with blonde hair?” I asked.

They all began telling me what they thought. 

Later in the night, we just went wild ‘n I was happy for it. Michael and Arthur didn’t cross my mind once. We blasted our records, danced the night away while chatting, drinking, and smoking away.

I was overwhelmed with emotions at the end of the night because—… Because I never thought I would have a friend group like this, and now that I did— it was surreal. I genuinely felt that I wouldn’t be in the mental state I was in, if they weren’t in my life.

They made everything that much better. I was always happy with Tommy, but that feeling was contorting into something else now. You know? It was becoming increasingly more platonic, and as much as that should feel liberating— it frightened me. 

I have a million reasons why I held out for him for this long and why it frightens me so, and I’m not going to dwell on them. To be honest, I think the moment he did reciprocate my feelings and he told me, I probably would numb myself immediately. I would just be in such a state of shock that I’d deny his feelings ‘n just move the fuck on. 

‘I mean that’s what is expected of me, right?’ 

Since I am the way that I am. I can’t just blame it on social media’s influence. I mean when I imagined the scenario I end up cringing a ton, and I send myself into like a “tic fit.” It’s the best I can describe it. 

Anyhow, back to how the night went! We got super drunk, super high, and probably pissed off Cassie’s neighbors but we settled down at like three or four in the morning. The people living downstairs were most likely the most grateful since we were jumping around like crazy people. 

We, collectively, all crawled onto Cassie’s bed ‘n knocked out. I was probably the first to sleep. I’m not going to tell ya a blag. It was completely plausible. But, what I loved most about tonight— it was that I was surrounded by people who loved me. It was warm and I felt safe. Something I wasn’t even able to feel in my own home at times when I was back in my own universe. 

Cassie was the big spoon while I was the little, and Dougie was her big spoon. I made sure to avoid being in the middle anymore. I talked to Cassie and she was fine with my touching. She said I showed her the same amount of attention, and she knew I didn’t fancy him— so we were good.

However, I didn’t want to interfere with a perfectly good moment. So, I chose to be on the outside while Cassie was in the middle. Yeah, that didn’t stop her from cuddling me instead. I was too intoxicated and tired to tell her to cuddle Dougie instead.

When I woke up, I found it to be fairly early in the morning because the sky was grey. There’s a difference to the 6 am sky and the 8 am sky, okay! I didn’t get up right away. I wanted to savor the tranquility that surrounded me for a little while longer. But like all sweet things, they must come to an end.

My guess is that I was probably stirring around too much by accident ‘n woke up Cassie, who inadvertently awoke Dougie. I tried coaxing her back to sleep, but it was too late for the both of them. Begrudgingly, I inched my way off the bed and strolled over to the table.  

Dougie was right behind me. I could hear his loud yawn from behind me, and then his hands gently fell on top of my head. My head bobbled as he kissed the top of my head. 

“Mornin’, Ali.”

I smiled and while my head did a little dance, I replied. “Morning, Dougie.”

He pulled out a chair for me before going to sit on his own. While gripping the arms of the chair, I scooted closer to the table. I craned my head back to see Cassie on the phone, no doubt ordering food. 

We really didn’t begin talking till the food came. I think we were just still sleepy, but food and orange juice helped. Horace was the first to get up ‘n he attacked the bacon. Then, it was Tina and finally, Angie. Who was very grumpy, by the way. So not happy about being awake.

I don’t know how it happened, but eventually we broke out into a food fight. It was awesome.

“Oi! Fucking watch it!” I exclaimed as I narrowly dodged a ketchup covered egg. I knew it was covered in ketchup ‘cause I saw Tina drown them in it. I grabbed a syrup-soaked waffle and chucked it at Dougie.

It got him right on the side of his face. He exclaimed and his face contorted in disgust. My mouth immediately contorted into deep frown ‘n my eyebrows raised, and when his crazed eyes found mine— I gasped. My gasp was so deep like a man’s that I hurt my throat doing it. 

I held my hands up as I croaked. “Wait.” He inched closer to me. “Wait! Wait!” I turned my back and started running. Something you should know about me, I never liked being chased. It gave me another type of anxiety and happiness— it was so weird. 

Eventually, Dougie caught me and we started wrestling with each other. Through our grunts, I heard the phone ring and Cassie hopped across the room to get to it. She landed on the bed and crawled to the phone. While sitting on her knees, she answered the phone.

I turned my attention back to Dougie and tried crawling away from him as he attacked my sides. It wasn’t my tickle spot, but I laughed at the pain of his fingers digging into my sides, nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry!” I yelled. “I’m sorry! I give, now cut it out.” 

Dougie loosened his hold and sat up on his knees, flipping his bangs to one side as he did so. I didn’t hesitate to get up on my feet. 

“Never!” He shouted. “You got syrup on my face.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I playfully yelled as I charged at him ‘n I barely managed to get him into a headlock when Cassie shouted for me. She motioned the phone toward me, and my smile dropped as did my hold on Dougie.

I walked over to the phone and brought it to my ear. While taking some of the hair that fell into my mouth, I said. “Hello?”

“Aliena, love.” Polly sniffled before continuing, “Thank god you’re alright. Um, I need you to come home, darling.”

“Polly, you’re crying. What’s happened?” I’m only half-ashamed to admit that I was exaggerating my concern. Hard to actually experience when I already knew what was up.

“It’s Michael. He’s been arrested. You need to come home to the house in Small Heath. We’re gonna have a family meeting.”

“Is Tom there yet?”

Polly sniffled again before replying, “No, not yet. You still have time before it begins, so come quickly. Love you.”

“Love you too. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hung up the phone and looked back at my mates. They were all looking at me concernedly. I waved my finger around before finding the words. “I, uh… I need to go. Cassie, can you tell Simmons—!”

She nodded. “Of course.” Cass instantly grabbed the phone and began calling him. 

I glanced at my mates one more time before walking over to the closet. I put on this off-white frock with some black heels. I didn’t fix my hair up or put on any makeup. I just packed up my things, threw on my coat, and hurried out the door. I bade everyone farewell before leaving.

I ran out of the car and into the house. I threw my backpack on the couch before shouting, “Polly, I’m here!”

Faintly, I could hear Polly gasp and then we met each other halfway in the kitchen. She pulled me into a hug and squeezed the breath right out of me. 

“Thank god!” She said. “Thank god you’re okay.” Polly parted from our hug ‘n began stroking my hair and face. 

Footsteps coming from my right caught my attention, and I hugged Finn, John, and Esme as they came up to me. All us exchanging words about how we were all glad that one another was okay. John caught me up to date as Polly was fawning over me. 

She couldn’t stop stroking my hair and kissing my temple. I didn’t mind it, but everything she did was exemplified since I wasn’t used to this sort of treatment from her. Well, I was ‘n it always happened in some sad event in our lives, and that’s probably what’s upsetting me the most. 

I managed to get her to sit down, and smoked a ciggie with her. Tom sure took his time coming home. It took him, perhaps, twenty to thirty minutes later before he strided through the kitchen and into the shop. 

I stubbed my ciggie out, just as Tom said. “John?”

“Coppers have lifted 10 of our men in Camden town, the rest of them on the run.” He replied.

Finn added. “Tom, they've taken Michael.” 

Polly rose from her seat and walked closer to the family and I followed suit, taking the opposite door to lean on. 

Tom waved Finn off saying, “Business first.”

“They took Michael— ”

“I said business first.”

“They picked him up—!”

“Polly, business first!”

‘Great! Went from having an awesome time last night to an anxiety ridden morning. I love my life. Wow, way to make it about myself. I’m amazing!’

Tom gave Pol one last look before asking John to continue. Polly looked vulnerable. She looked, sorry to say, pitiful. She was desperate to help Michael, but— obviously, Tom had an agenda he was intending to follow.

John continued. “They took all our whisky. So no doubt they'll be supping that for Christmas. They've impounded all our vans, put their own locks on the warehouse. The Eden Club and all our pubs have been raided by the coppers and handed back to Sabini and Solomons. The Black Country boys think it was Arthur who killed Billy because that's what the coppers told them. So there'll be no more free passes for our whisky boats.”

“I don't give a fuck about whisky. I don't give a fuck about Billy Kitchen.” Polly said as she walked over to the table and began to lightly slam her hand down on it as she spoke, “I want my son out of prison now.”

Esme decided to speak up, at the wrong time. “Thomas, I spoke to Johnny Dogs.”

“This meeting should just be family.” Polly insisted.

‘Ah—! Ma’am, the fuck does that make me? Oh, wait, family! You, idiot, you.’

“I can help.”

“-It's family only, she's not blood.”

“Let her speak.” Tom interjected, but Polly kept on going.

“Tommy! Or is this a business… How you forgotten family—!”

“ENOUGH!”

My hand flew to my mouth and I swear to God, my heart sank to my arse. ‘Holy fuck is the wrong, but holy hell is it erotic!’

I was given the side eye by multiple people in the room, and I quickly numbed my feelings. Faster than I ever had to before. I stood up straight and cleared my throat.

Tom looked back at Polly as he said. “Enough, Polly. Esme.”

“I spoke to Johnny Dogs. The Lees are kin.”

“The bloody Lees!” Polly exclaimed

“They can give us men.”

“We don't need more fucking men! It's men that have done the damage! It's… It is men fighting like cockerels that have put us here in the first place.”

Tommy said. “Esme, I'll take up their offer. We need men.”

There was this pregnant silence that stilled between all of us, and it made me bounce on my heels. 

Polly pointedly stared at Tommy, inching closer to him as she said. “If Michael ever gets out of prison, I am taking him away from this family, for good.” She took a step back from Tom and waved her hands around her. “This life is bad.”

Polly walked over to Finn ‘n grabbed him by the arm. “This life is all bad.” She began dragging him away and made a beeline for me. Pol gripped my arm ‘n began pulling me away too.

“Ah!” I exclaimed as my feet skidded across the floor.

“Aunt Pol, what’re you doin’?” Finn cried out as we were both being tugged away.

“Shut up and walk.”

I managed to crane my head back for one last look at Tom before Pol had tugged Finn and I out of the house. Tommy didn’t meet my gaze. 

Polly ushered us in her car and drove us to the house in Sutton. She ordered us to stay in the house, but I knew where she was going. I saw her make a call, which went on for sometime, before she darted for the door. 

I think she was calling Ada.

I grabbed her arm as she turned to leave. “Polly, wait! Where are you going?”

She sighed before taking my face into her hands. “I’m going to go see if I can get my son out by myself. Thomas isn’t going to help, so I’m doing this on my own.” Polly stroked the side of my face as she looked into my eyes.

“Don’t go...” I whispered.

Pol sucked on her teeth before shaking her head. I gripped her wrists as they were still close to my face and said. “I can—! I can call someone. My mates can help. They’re Michael’s mates too, so I’m sure they won’t mind.”

She shook her head and gently tugged her hands away from my face. I let her wrists go without hesitation. With one hand on my shoulder, and the other waving around as she talked, she said. “No. No, I can’t have your friends knowing about this side of the family. They’re different from us ‘n they need to have the best image of you they can. I will deal with this on my own. I will deal with this on my own as I’ve always done.” 

Polly quickly kissed my forehead and left just as I was about to continue to beg her not to. I ran after her, but my reaction time was a little too late since she was already in the car. I shouted after her, but she took off.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t—! I couldn’t interfere when she didn’t want me to, so I just walked back into the house ‘n focused on taking care of Finn. We spent our time talking and playing card games. I finished making our lunch when Ada showed up. I knew she’d show up. ‘Cause of the episode, of course. 

She brought Karl, which made everything better ‘n brighter for a while.

I  spent time playing with the baby and catching up with Ada. Eventually, I left Ada alone with Finn since I’m sure she’d wanted to talk to him alone. I had the maid make dinner ‘n eventually sent Finn’s lanky butt up to a room. Had the maid prepare it for him beforehand.  Ada and I talked into the night till Karl grew tired. 

She took another room and retired for the night. On the other hand, I only went up stairs to change into something more comfortable, then I went back down to wait for Polly to come back home. I basically wore a nightgown and put my hair into a ponytail. 

I knew Polly was going to want to take a bath ‘n I wanted to be the one to help her. It was only right since she’d helped me when I needed it. 

I hated myself. I hated myself. I could’ve tried harder. I could’ve used better words to persuade her. I could’ve—!

Polly stumbled in at around eleven o’clock at night. I sprang up from the couch ‘n she didn’t even make a fuss about the fact I was up. Pol stumbled into my arms with the stench of alcohol on her breath. 

“Ali my love!” She slurred as she leaned all her body weight on me.

I muffled a groan as I held her up. 

Polly picked herself up a bit and slapped her hands on my face. I flinched at the force she put behind it. 

“Beautiful...” She whispered. “Absolutely beautiful...” Her thumbs roughly wiped the space under my eyes. Bringing them up and down and stretched back. 

“Polly,” I whispered. “What’s happened?”

Her head jerked back and she stumbled away from me. Averting my gaze, she replied. “Is done. Michael with—! Michael will be out within, at, in the morning.”

I smiled and clapped my hands in front of my mouth. “That’s great news, Polly!”

She smiled and nodded, drunkenly. Like she was nodding like a bobble head, someone who wasn’t in control of their motor functions. Polly’s gaze drifted to the side and she pointed to the tub. “Were you gonna take a bath?”

I shook my head. “Oh, no. I thought about it, but then I was waiting for you to come home. I had the fire lit. Why? Did you want to take a bath?”

Polly stumbled forward and gripped my arms, steadying herself before she nodded. “Yes. Yeah. Ali, darling, can you be so kind… And help me?”

I nodded, my eyebrows furrowing in concern. I ran to the kitchen and filled up the bucket for hot water. This house actually had a water heater ‘n that meant hot water from the tap. I had to make a few trips back ‘n forth but it was quicker than it would’ve been at the other house. 

“Alright, all done.” I turned back to Polly, who was sitting on the couch as she gazed into the fire. Her head shot up when I spoke. I turned around as a way to give her the privacy she needed to undress. 

I could sense her walking toward the tub and I turned my body more to the left while closing my eyes. Slowly, I got down to my knees ‘n sat on them. I wanted to give her the respect she deserved. The water sloshed as she dipped her body in the tub.

“Can you pass me the soap and sponge, love?” Polly asked me.

My eyes fluttered open instantly and I crawled to where I had placed the body soap and sponge earlier. I reached up for them and then crawled back over to her before giving them to her.

I sort of just sat there as she bathed herself. Her movements were sluggish and looked to be done with great difficulty. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to pry. I wanted her to open up to me and just cry about it. I didn’t want her to keep it in. However, I knew that was wrong, so I just picked at the carpet below me. 

Eventually, I couldn’t stand doing nothing and I asked her if I could shampoo her hair. She gave me a sloth-like smile and gave me permission. I reached up for the shampoo, took off my sheer robe, and shuffled on my knees around the tub. 

Polly leaned forward to give me some room. I scooped up some of the water from the tub using the pitcher and poured it along her hairline, slowly making my way to the back of her scalp. 

Shampooing someone else’s hair was always something comforting to me. I did Cassie’s hair all the time as she did mine. It was a type of intimacy that was more innocent than others types. 

I began humming something from Billie Holiday. I didn’t know the song by heart, but I knew some of the words ‘n rhythm enough. I was rinsing her hair when Polly’s shoulders began to shake. Muffled sobs escaped her nose as she shakily took deep breaths. 

I didn’t know what to do or say. I didn’t know if it was appropriate to touch her and hug her, so I asked. I asked if it was alright if I hugged her. Like a child, she nodded through her sobs. 

I hugged Polly from behind. She was wet, I knew that. I was painfully aware of the new sensation of my dress sticking to my body and her cold hair against my cheek. Everything in my being was screaming and begging me to launch myself backward, away from her— but my heart was pleading for me to do the opposite. 

My heart wanted to absorb her pain, and it was my heart that won. I choked back my tears. I didn’t have the right to shed them. I could’ve saved her from this pain. I could’ve prevented this. But, ultimately when I blinked, they slipped down my cheeks. 

I didn’t pry, I stayed true to my word. We composed ourselves simultaneously and silently. 

“Love?” 

I wiped my nose on my arm before answering, “Yes?”

“Can you get me a cigarette? They’re in my purse.”

I nodded as I muttered. “Of course.” I rose to my feet and walked over to her purse, which was on the sofa. I put one in my mouth and lit it. With it still hanging off my lips, I took a quick puff as I grabbed the ashtray. I placed it on the stool that had the soaps on top, and then passed Polly her ciggie.

I walked back around to the chair that was behind her ‘n admired the fire crackling. Ada came in not too long after. I left… 

Truthfully, I didn’t know why I left. 

I trudged up the stairs all the way to my room. I closed the door behind me and slid down it.

I felt like a complete piece of shit and hollow and empty. My face scrunched up in a sob, but no tears came out. There was this increasingly more painful headache forcing me to acknowledge it, and with it came anger and annoyance. I wanted to punch the walls. I wanted to throw stuff around. I wanted to kill Campbell for what he’s done to this family.

I wanted his blood. I wanted to slit his throat. I wanted to bite a chunk of his neck out. I wanted…

I heaved a deep breath and found it still difficult to breathe. I crawled forward on all fours with one hand supporting my weight while the other clutched my throat. I took deep breaths till finally I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I had to release these emotions inside of me. The need to punish myself became overwhelming, and my eyes flickered to the suitcase that laid under my bed. 

I shook my head. ‘I couldn’t afford any marks’ I thought. 

With my other job, my body is a tool ‘n any harm to it hinders my ability to get it done. 

So, I yanked the straps of my gown down and let it fall under my waist. Ferociously, I began to claw away at my neck, arms, and stomach. The burn. The burn was what I needed. 

And when I stopped, the pain took over but as much as it meant everything— it was also nothing. 

Slowly, I brought the straps of my gown back up to my shoulders, rose to my feet, and sauntered over to my bed. I climbed in it and just laid there while staring at the lamp that was always on at my desk. I fell asleep, eventually…

The next morning, Polly came into my room ‘n asked if I wanted to come with her to go ‘n get Michael. I felt like she wanted me to go with her, so I said I’d go. While dressing up, I was glad to see that none of the scratches I’d made scarred up. 

I made sure to dress warmly since we would be going out so early in the morning and then we headed off to pick him up. We didn’t make any conversation during the drive or as we waited for him to come out. 

But nothing— and I mean nothing, could tear my eyes away from the scarf around her neck. 

I chose to lean against the wall as we waited while Polly was pacing back ‘n forth on the pavement. When Michael walked out, the first thing I noticed was the ugly bruise on his right cheek. Then, I noticed the little cuts all around his face. The need to comfort him was strong, but he walked straight toward his mother while smoking a ciggie.

“You need cream on them cuts or they'll go bad.” Polly said to ‘em.

Michael didn’t reply. He took a drag before saying, “The screws told me why I've been freed. They told me what you did.”

Polly looked away from Michael. Her gaze found mine, and she hurriedly looked away from me too. Polly stared straight on, instead. 

“They thought it was funny.” He continued. Michael took another puff before he said. “Maybe it is.”

The urge to degrade and make someone cry had never been activated so fast in me before now. I glared at Michael as he walked away. My blood boiled with each step he took.

With my foot, I launched myself away from the wall and walked to Polly’s side. I put a hand on her shoulder and whispered. “C’mon. Let’s go. He probably needs time is all.”

Polly said nothing, but allowed me to lead her over to the car.

Michael eventually had to come home, and he had the audacity to knock at my door. Of course, I let him in but only to give him a piece of my mind. 

“Do you even know what she did?” He shouted.

“She got you out, didn’t she? Why should you care how?” I shouted back.

“She fucked Campbell to get me out. She prostituted herself!”

I pretended to process it and be shocked before I continued. “And? So fucking what? Who are you to say that it was funny, huh? Fucking bastard! Fucking ungrateful prick!” 

I wanted to put my hands on him so badly, but I resorted to punching my palms repeatedly instead. As well as folding in on myself.

I whipped my hair back and ran a hand through my hair. 

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t see anything wrong with that? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Of course there’s something wrong with that! Campbell abused his position and abused his powers. He raped your mother!”

His face fell.

I scoffed. “Did you actually think I would side with you? Oh, fuck you, Michael. I would’ve done the same for me own son and so much more. She did that out of desperation ‘n fear ‘n pure maternal love! And—! And, you threw it back ‘n her face! I mean look at you, Michael. How much more of that could you have withstood?”

“All of it! I would have taken every beating… Every fucking—!” Michael choked up and rose his fists over his eyes. 

I averted my gaze. My tongue prodded the inside of my cheek as I violently shook my right leg. I tsked before rushing toward Michael and pulled him into a hug. Weakly, he hugged me back. 

Muffled, I said. “I’m not the one who has to forgive you for the things you said, but me and you are not alright right now. And I need you to respect the fact I need some time to process and get over what you said to her. It was very insensitive and I don’t play when it comes to situations like that. I don’t care about the excuse. You should have comforted her or each other when you were given the chance.” I parted from the hug and turned around. 

I didn’t turn back around till I heard my door shut from behind me.

About a week and a half has passed since Michael’s release and we’re still not on good terms. He hasn’t apologized to Polly for what he said, so obviously I wasn’t going to just sweep that shit under the rug. Little shit would have no idea how much restraint it took to not slap him across the face!

Of course I encourage him to “get it over with” and “clear the air.” But the stubborn twat was like his mum, and he refused to do so. It was like that conversation we had went in one ear and out the other. So, I’ve just steered clear of ‘em. Pissed me off just looking at him.

Anyway, John and I went to visit Arthur in jail. He was pretty rough, but when was Arthur not? We just visited him to see him. Tommy didn’t have a plan drawn up yet. Other than that, I’ve been busy with work. Legit and side hustle alike. 

Since the coppers fucked with the inventory, Tommy needed my help with the numbers and had me running around more often. At the same time, Dom gave me hit orders every other day. 

Some of the hit orders were during the day as well! I had to run off to get that job done, then hurry back to Small Heath. I’m just lucky nobody gets on my arse. Tommy could, no doubt there, but he was busy himself and I got the job done anyway. 

I knew he had some Peaky men or juniors watching me, for my “protection.” I knew they told him what I was doing, where I was going, but they never found out what I did. I had to let Dom know what was going on at home, and he helped me get away from them. 

Was it suspicious? Short answer, yes. 

Not like I could stop the side, though. The second season was coming to an end soon and what happens on Derby Day determines if I’m staying in this family or not. I, myself, don’t even know what to expect. 

I mean, it’s obvious he’s going to sleep with Grace and knock her up. What the fuck did I even want to happen? Did I want him to just confess to me and we get together instead? Well, of course, I want that to happen! But it’s not. And I can’t even see Tommy doing something as cringy as that. Yes, cringy.

The idea of him just springing on a confession on me still made me cringe up. My feelings have never been recuperated, so if they were to finally be mutual— there’s a good chance I wouldn’t have the romantic reaction I would be hoping for. Sad truth, but what could I do? Not like I had control over what my crushes felt. 

So, basically, if Grace is pregnant— I’ll quietly go away. I haven’t brought it up to Cassie yet, but I’m planning on slumming it with her. Just for a while, I know I have enough money to buy a house of my own. I would probably get Dom to do it for me, though, since I had no idea how to do it. 

If Tom tried to find me, then I’d just hide at Dom’s place. I’m sure he’d let me. On the topic of Tom, though— I missed him. Like talking to him, bugging him, and especially seeing his face. I was being deprived of my daily dose of serotonin. It was a crime!

Despite all that, today was a night of relaxation. I’d planned to go out with my mates, but since it’d be too dangerous to go South— they had to come to me. Ridiculous, I know but Tom insisted on the idea the last time I saw him. Even though I’d been going all around the fucking country for a week and a half.

We were in the snug at the Garrison. Smoking a few cigs while sipping on our bevvies. It was a girls’ night despite the fact that Finn was here. Let him have two pints, and that was it. He was still working on his first like a good lad. 

Angie spat. “I mean who the fuck does that bitch think she is? Just because her mum is a famous pianist doesn’t mean she is too! Dumb dora doesn’t know about key or pitch to save her life.”

I raised my eyebrows and slurped my bevvy. I smacked my mouth before asking. “Hey, Ange. How are you and Horace?”

Her movements faltered and a smile crept up on her face. I gasped and my hand shot over my mouth.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, are you two finally dating? Are youse dating?” My hand flew back to Cassie’s arm and I gripped it while shaking her. She was just as excited as I was.

Angie couldn’t meet my gaze to save her life. “I-! We… Yeah, we’re dating. I, I said yes.”

All of us girls squealed and congratulated her. Internally, I was congratulating my boy, Horace. My mans was pinning after Angie since childhood and he finally got the girl. 

Even material to make a story out of, oop! Mayhaps.

She told us how it happened. They had been in a fight since her father secretly set her up on a blind date and he’d caught them as she was out. Horace didn’t blow up on them at the spot, but Angie felt compelled to follow him out the restaurant they were dining in. On the street, he aggressively professed his love and told her he couldn’t bear to beat around the bush anymore. He gave her an ultimatum, and she was thrown off by how assertive he was being. It made her heart flutter, and she confessed she felt the same. 

Another round of squeals at the table, please! Poor Finn, he had to suffer through us. His own fault for volunteering to, like, chaperone me.

The topic changed to the ball Cassie had for her 21st birthday. This happened like a couple of Fridays ago since her birthday was on the tenth of February. It was really extravagant and the theme was like a royal ball. So, we got to dress up in these really amazing ball gowns. I wore this beautiful green ball gown that was most likely akin to 16th century fashion, as one man told me. 

I wouldn’t know the exact period my dress resembled since that wasn’t my area of expertise. Glad the man knew, though!

Cassie tapped me on my arm, her face contorted in confusion. “Ali… What did we do for your birthday?”

I blinked before smiling. “Oh, we didn’t do anything.”

Her face immediately contorted in horror and she looked at Angie and Tina, which of course made me do the same. They had the same expression on their faces.

Tina raised a finger and began wagging it as she said. “Wait a minute… Did we even do something for your birthday last year?”

“Uh...no.” My eyes kept flickering between the three of them and I watched as the horror deepened in their faces.

They began showering me in apologies, and while it did comfort me— it annoyed me at the same time. ‘Like it was too late for apologies since the days already passed. So, like why sweat it now?’

The girls surrounded Ali and showered her in apologies. Finn watched from the sidelines. He saw the flicker of discomfort on Ali’s face before she began to smile. 

He knew that his family had forgotten about her past two birthdays as well, and he wanted to get something for her. But the last time he did that— he got in trouble for it. So, the best he did was wish her happy birthday. 

“Okay! Okay! We obviously just have to throw the biggest party ever to make up for them both.” Cassie said, her lips pursing as she talked. Tina and Angie nodded, but Ali sighed. 

She shook her head while clutching her forehead. “No. No, it’s alright really. My birthday passed. I don’t need anything.”

The girls dismissed her wishes, which annoyed the crap out of Ali and Finn. 

Ali rubbed her eyes roughly before waving her hands up. “Okay, okay, fine! We can have a little something. It has to be little. I’m not allowed South, so—!”

Cassie cut her off. “That’s completely alright. We can do it here like last time. You know?” She looked around the room. Tina and Angie nodded in agreement. 

Ali thought about it and just succumbed to her mates’ wishes. Ali took a breath and thought about it in a different perspective. Instead of holding onto the fact her birthdays were overlooked, she was just appreciative that they, at least, wanted to celebrate it now.

They girls talked it out and they decided they would reconvene next Friday at the Garrison. Finn was welcomed to join, and the lad was not going to miss it for anything in the world because of what they were planning.

These girls were planning to get “fucked up.” More specifically, Aliena “fucked up.” He had some idea of what that meant, and he knew he wasn’t going to like it. 

Eventually, Finn ended up asking Aliena what that meant, and she told him that her mates basically wanted to get her really drunk. He knew he wouldn’t like it. 

That week Finn, Aliena, and the girls were all just really preparing for the “doomsday.” Aliena was pumped up to have fun with her girls in her honor, and couldn’t decide what she to wear. The girls were trying to find gifts for her birthdays, you know, since they missed two of ‘em. 

While Finn, he was going through it. He was debating so hard whether or not to tell Tom. He didn’t know if he should. He usually would have, but with things being so tense lately— he really didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news or add fuel to the fire. So, he decided against it and was just glad to be invited. He also looked for a gift.

The day of the party both Finn and Aliena visited Tommy’s office. Aliena went to give him his dinner at around 5:30. She had yet to get dressed for the night, but her hair was beautifully done in waves from the braids she made the night before. She had half of it up since if it was all down— her hair would be too poofy.

Aliena knocked on Tom’s door before entering. Tom was finishing up some last minute paperwork. He didn’t tell Aliena, but he was going to Ada’s house to meet up with Grace. She’d called some weeks ago, and Tom was finally available enough to meet her. 

She rested the basket on his desk and moved a piece of her hair away from her face. “Here you go, Tommy. Have a nice night.” 

Tom picked up his head and his eyebrows wanted to furrow as he took in her appearance. Her hair was done nicely and she was wearing a nice outfit. 

Ali had on a white tank top with a sheer white long-sleeved blouse over it and wore a ribbed off-white skirt that hugged her curves. She didn’t think anything of it, but Tom sure did. 

He wondered if she got dressed up for another boy of hers, but then he realized he had no business admiring her or getting jealous. After all, he’d be meeting up with Grace in almost a half hour. 

Tom looked into Aliena’s eyes ‘n noticed she was wearing a bit of makeup and holding a vanilla folder in her hand as well. “Night, Ali.” He replied.

Ali smiled at him, gave him a nod, and knocked on his desk before spinning around on her heels. Ali was almost out the door when her hand knocked into one of the chairs and the contents of the vanilla folder went flying. Ali cursed under her breath and bent down to collect the papers from the ground.

Tom’s eyes never left her arse. Tom recognized that Aliena was blessed with well-endowed features— ample breasts and a large behind as well as thighs. He admired the way her breasts hung from her body as she had to reposition herself to get a paper that had flown under the chair. He admired the arch of her back. 

Tom realized he was acting like a pervert and resituatied himself. He silently cleared his throat and sat up straight while tugging on his pants. Aliena tapped the folder on the ground to straighten its contents before rising from her knees. 

She smiled at him, sheepishly, as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Sorry ‘bout that, Tommy. Good night.”

Tom repeated the phrase under his breath and Aliena made it out the door without a mishap. 

Finn came in not five minutes later, passing Aliena on the way to the office. He walked straight into Tom’s office. 

Tom’s head shot up and he didn’t hesitate to begin speaking, “Finn, I want you to look after Aliena tonight. I’m going over to Ada’s and I don’t know when I’ll be back.” Tom had risen from his seat as he spoke. Putting on his coat and cap. 

Tom walked over to Finn and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Alright?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, got it.”

Tom nodded and began walking ahead of his little brother, but then turned around all of a sudden. Tom pointed toward his desk ‘n said. “Oh and eat that for me, yeah? Aliena made it so… It should be good.”

Finn chuckled and took his brother up on the offer. He’d been starving.

Aliena rushed home and practically inhaled her meal. She didn’t want to eat, but since was planning to drink till her liver bursted— she didn’t want to knock out on the third drink. After eating, she hauled the tub to her room and took a bath.

Aliena decided tonight was the night. 

She wasn’t going to wait for Tommy anymore. 

She’s been building up to it and she didn’t care anymore. Virginity was just some societal construct anyhow. Plus, she wouldn’t tell anyone but she owned a dildo in her other universe ‘n yeah… 

Aliena just assumed this body, that was very fucking different, had it’s hymen, so…

She freshened up and shaved her vagina. Not for the poor guy she was going to use, but for herself. Aliena was big on, “you like me for me or you can fuck off.”

Don’t worry Ali had her hair all tied up away from the water and when she was done— all she had to do was dry her body off.

Ali kept her towel on as she did her makeup. She kept it light and noir like she did for the Garrison’s reopening. After makeup, she slid on her dress. The best Ali could describe it was a loose body con dress that had ruffles that reminded her of a curtain. It was sky blue ‘n fit with the times. 

Ali took down her hair once she was done putting on her dress. She tried her best to keep her waves, but they had ultimately lost most of their volume throughout the day. Aliena tried to not let it bother her. She put on her heels, grabbed a matching clutch, and her white fur coat. 

Aliena walked over to Finn’s room ‘n knocked on his door, asking if he was ready. He didn’t answer from his room, but from downstairs. Aliena hurried down the flight of stairs, joined their arms once she was down, and then they were on their way to the Garrison. 

Isaiah met them on the way, which was a pleasant surprise. Finn had invited him along ‘n of course Aliena wouldn’t mind. She hadn’t seen him in a long time, and she figured it was due to the business. 

Aliena was escorted with two men around her arms to the Garrison and she chatted with them the whole way. She was all smiles and it warmed both the men’s hearts. More so Finn than Isaiah. 

When they got to the pub, they instantly walked to the snug. They quickly seated themselves down ‘n got comfy. Isaiah ordered their bevvies from the window and they were served not too long after. 

The gang couldn’t have gotten there not twenty minutes later. Their hands were occupied with gifts ‘n the boys were carrying the cake. Aliena couldn’t feel more loved ‘n appreciated. She greeted her mates with kisses and hugs ‘n thanked them for the party. 

Aliena ended up thanking Douglas and Horace for showing up and for their gifts separately since she wasn’t expecting them. First manner of business was the birthday cake. Horace revealed this magnificent simple cake that had twenty candles around it.  

Ali couldn’t stop covering her face as she smiled. She tried reeling in her emotions, but she never could act “right” when people sang her happy birthday. For her birthday wish, she wished that she’d continue on working on her happiness. 

Before having a piece of cake, Aliena opened her presents. Cassie gave her another set of expensive jewelry that was to die for! Ali loved it! Douglas gave Aliena a new pair of shoes, a clutch, and a purse. While it wasn’t to die for, Aliena appreciated it since after all he didn’t even ask her what she wanted. It was ballsy to get a gift for Ali without talking to her first since her face usually gave her true thoughts away.

She’s worked on that since she was young, but sometimes it will show. Hasn’t happened yet, but doesn’t mean it won’t.

Angie gave Aliena more designer clothing while Horace bought her a typewriter. She absolutely gushed over their gifts, especially the typewriter. Tina’s present was Pride and Prejudice, Anna Karenina, Little Women, Romeo and Juliet, and The Picture of Dorian Gray. Aliena loved the fact that Tina gave her books. Truth be told, she hasn’t really read a book unless they were someone else’s. 

Isaiah didn’t have a gift, so we can skip over him. Finn, on the hand, did. Ali was a little apprehensive about it since last time he got her a gift, he would’ve caught a charge if he was anyone else. It was a big box, too. Aliena shook the lid off the box to find a box of items packed inside. There were about five different shades of lipstick, two bottles of perfume, and a whole lot of makeup. 

Ali couldn’t help but be in awe at the gift. She hugged Finn and thanked him for something so wonderful ‘n thoughtful. Finn was able to let go of the breath he was holding and felt extremely happy that she loved her gift. Swear, the boy had a smile for a majority of the night.

The minute Aliena was done opening her gifts, the real party began. Finn watched as Aliena and her mates took shot after shot after shot. He participated a bit himself, but out of conditioning from Aliena— he took his time. Isaiah was faring no better. He’d received the same order as Finn. His sole duty tonight was to protect Aliena ‘n the way she was drinking— he had a bad feeling something was gonna happen.

Eventually they made their way out of the snug ‘n began dancing more freely. Isaiah expertly manipulated Ali into only dancing with their mates. The minute she tried catching the eye of literally anyone else, he’d step in. 

Out in the city, he had no problem with who she danced with or who she made out with. In Small Heath, his and every other person’s eyes were at stake. But more importantly, his eyes were at stake!

Truthfully, Aliena wasn’t actually drunk— she was buzzed! But, she wasn’t drunk. She was mimicking Cassie’s behavior, who was on a completely different level drunkenness than her. She did it in a sense of solidarity and recklessness. She felt that since they were celebrating her birthday, since it was her night— she should be able to act freely. Especially when she was trapped in Birmingham per Tommy’s orders. 

Aliena was getting bored with just dancing and began to sing. She sang ‘Ain't No Other Man’ by Christina Aguliera. At first, it was just the mates who were aware that she was singing, but then other patrons heard her voice. Aliena was lifted in the air by a particularly strong ‘n tall patron and he set her down on the bar top. 

Aliena “under the influence” began to sing as clearly as she could and belt as loud as she could, as much in tune as she could manage. 

Not like they would know if she butchered the song or not.

Finn, who watched all of this go down, had enough. In his opinion, Aliena had gotten out of control ‘n it was out of his hands. So, he decided to get the big guns involved.

His senses were filled with her. Her perfume, the texture of her dress, the taste of her lips and the feeling of pressing them against his own. 

So, what had changed for him?

Tom wondered why her kiss didn’t set him aflame like it did months ago. 

“Tommy. Tommy, do you have someone?” She asked him. 

Tom kissed Grace again. 

“It's too late, Tommy.”

“It's 11:00, Grace.”

“I mean, it's too late. If you'd come with me to New York...”

“I had things to do.” He kissed her again, searching for that feeling. That feeling of completion and—! And wholeness.

“You mean the coin landed the wrong way?”

“It couldn’t have worked. That was the question.” Their lips met once more ‘n fiercer this time ‘round.

Grace parted from the kiss and breathily asked. “Tommy… Tommy, do you have someone?”

‘Yes?’ He thought as the memory of Aliena looking back at him at the park flashed in his mind. Tom took a deep breath. “I have a racehorse. She’s gonna win the Derby.” He said. Tom joined their lips again and this time— they didn’t part after a few seconds.

Tom was desperately seeking that feeling of passion, but he figured he was gettin’ into his own head by rushing it. So, he took it slow. Grace slipped down the sleeves of her dress, and it hardly did anything for him.

It aroused him, of course, but—! It wasn’t the same. It was akin to the times he’s laid with a prostitute. 

‘You’re getting in your head, Tom. The feeling will come back. Take your time.’ He told himself. He led her backward toward the couch, his lips never parting from hers. 

The more time he spent kissing her, the more that pit in his stomach grew. 

That feeling wasn’t coming back. 

Tom trailed down to her neck, and he paid attention to Grace there before going back to her lips.

‘Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! Give it some fuckin’ time, man!’

Then by the grace of God, the phone started going off. Tom parted from the kiss ‘n Grace’s hands flew to his face.

“Let it ring.” She rasped while trying to pull his face back to hers.

Tom never averted his gaze from the phone ‘n it didn’t stop ringing either. Annoyed, he got up from the couch and walked over to the telephone.

Tom had barely gotten the address out when Finn’s voice cut through the phone. “Tom, Tommy, are you there?”

“Finn, what’s happened? What’s wrong?” Panic overwhelmed his being and Tom began buttoning up his shirt.

The pub could be heard through the phone and Tom swore he could hear Aliena, but he thought he was just imagining it. 

Finn cleared his throat. “Uh, Tom, it’s Ali. She’s kinda going outta control right now.”

“You are there when I'm a mess

Talk me down from every ledge

Give me strength, boy, you're the best!

You're the only one who's ever passed every test!” 

Aliena’s belting could be heard from over the phone ‘n Tom sighed, exhaustedly. 

Finn continued. “She’s dancing and singing on top of the bar at the Garrison. I just—! I don’t know. I thought you should know. I don’t know what to do! Do I just let ‘er or—?”

Tom exhaled deeply as he rubbed his forehead. “Finn, all right, calm down. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Get her off the fucking bar top ‘n make sure she doesn’t do anything else.” He hung up the phone, turned around, and faced Grace.

She looked confused with her eyebrows drawn together and Tom was half surprised to see that her dress was still down. 

“Tommy,” She began. “What’s happened?”

Tom blinked before replying, “I, uh, I have to head back to Birmingham.”

“What?” She asked softly as she rose to her feet and slipped her sleeves back over her shoulders. 

Tom began putting his coat on as he said. “I can drive you, if you’d like, or you can call a Taxi.”

Grace scoffed while shaking her head. “You're serious, Tom?”

Tom looked at her like she stated the obvious and gave her a curt nod. “Yeah.”

Grace’s jaw dropped a little as did her head. She picked up her head, steeled her gaze, and stood up straighter. “I can find my own way back.”

He nodded again before motioning her to follow him out the door. 

The night didn’t go as he’d planned. But he had more important things to worry about. 

‘Fucking Aliena!’

Aliena was just glad she was able to finish her song before Finn and Isaiah pried her off the bar top. She had her little moment ‘n that’s all that mattered to her. ‘Cause she managed to get the attention of most of the lads in the pub.

Some were just staring at her from afar while others actually walked up to her. But they only managed to get a few words in before they were run off by Isaiah. At first it was cute. Yes, Aliena thought it was cute that Isaiah was scaring off the blokes that approached her— but then it got annoying. 

Why? Because he was ruining her fucking plan to lose her viriginity tonight!

“I’ma tell ya right now, mate. You either piss off or you’re losing your eyes, which one are you gonna pick?” Isaiah threatened the man in front of him.

The man scoffed and was about to say something when Isaiah reached up for his peaky cap.

“One...” Isaiah said ‘n that was all it took for the bloke to run off. 

  Aliena scoffed as she tried to look over Isaiah’s shoulder only to catch a glimpse of the guy running off. Aliena groaned and roughly shoved Isaiah in the chest. “The fuck are you doing, Saiah!” She shouted.

Isaiah raised his hands in surrender. “Look I’m sorry, Ali. All right, I’m sorry.”                              

Aliena’s face contorted in confusion and her head shook. “No, what the fuck is going on! You’ve never done this before, so what the ‘ell is up?”

Isaiah sighed and looked all around the room. He debated tellin’ her the truth or not, and he decided it would be easier if she just knew what was up. “Look, Ali… I can’t let any bloke in here have a go at you, all right?”

Her face didn’t change. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? The fuck you mean ‘you can’t let me’? Who’s...” Her voice trailed off as did her gaze.

‘No way!’ She thought. ‘There’s just no fucking way!’

Aliena huffed. “Di-Did Tommy—! Does Thomas have something to do with this?”

Isaiah nodded. He hesitantly said. “Tom… He ‘n the family ordered a long time ago that no one in Birmingham is allowed to have a go at ya. They’re not even allowed to accept a confession from you. And any Peaky Blinder who tries to disobey or not try ‘n help ya if you’re in danger, or knew about it ‘n let it happen— gets their eyes and tongues cut.”

Aliena was taken back by the rule. Some part of her was in awe that Tommy cared that much for her while the other was annoyed that he was. 

Why the fuck did he have to go ‘n do that? Why the fuck was he preventing her from going out with guys when he had no intention of going out with her himself? It was fucking ridiculous!

Her nose wrinkled in her anger before she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Aliena took a deep breath before clapping her hands in front of her. “Okay, Saiah! You have two options. One, you either keep on carrying out this ridiculous order Tom have you ‘n you’ll have to face my wrath. Or two, you call it a night and get out of my fucking way. So, what is it gonna be one or two?”

Isaiah didn’t hesitate. “Two.”

Ali raised her hand for a high-five, which Saiah reciprocated. “Good man.” Aliena said before walking off, on the prowl. 

It took sometime before the men in the pub realized Isaiah was no longer lurking around Aliena and began approaching her again. Aliena was picky when choosing the man she wanted to lose her virginity to. After all, what’s the point of doing it if she wasn’t going to enjoy it? She wanted a man she could look at and be aroused from. 

She was lucky enough to find one sitting at the bar when she walked over to get another drink. His name was Robert, last name unknown since she didn’t care for it. They made small talk, but Aliena wasn’t looking to get to know him. She just wanted to make sure she could get wet. 

And she found that she could, as she began imagining all the positions he could put her in. 

Tommy kept intruding on her imagination— hijacking her scenarios, but she’d just close her eyes ‘n take a moment. The next time she opened her eyes, he was gone.

Aliena brought her bevvy up to her mouth and took a sip before shoving Robert’s shoulder for something  he said. 

Unbeknownst to her, Tom had walked into the pub deadset on finding her. And that didn’t take very long. Tom witnessed Aliena’s little interaction firsthand. She was sitting on top of the bar top while flirting with some random fucking bloke. He didn’t know what infuriated him more.  

The fact that someone dared to go against his orders, or that she was flirting with someone in front of his face. 

Tom’s jaw dropped a little and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. He closed his mouth and nodded before he made a beeline for Aliena. As he grew closer, she’d finally noticed him. A smile on her face was quickly wiped off as Tom walked right up to her, tugged her off the top ‘n threw her over his shoulder.

Ali gasped and exclaimed. “What—!”

Tom hiked her further up his shoulder before spinning around and making his way toward the door. “Shut up, Ali.”

“--the fuck are you doing!”

Tom had no intention of letting her down. He feared she’d just talk her way out of it, or try to fucking run away. Tom was gonna give her the lecture of a lifetime whether she liked it or not. He wasn’t going to let her get the chance to go back to her mates and cause more embarrassment for herself. 

Aliena was shouting at Tom to let her down. She was pounding on his shoulder as an extra measure, but it wasn’t like she was doin’ it hard either. The pounding resembled more like knocking or somethin’.

Eventually, Aliena huffed and just let herself be carried to wherever he was taking her. From the streets he was walking, Ali soon realized they were going to his flat. She tsked and tried to support her head up. 

When they reached his front door, Tom hiked her up on his shoulder again before reaching for his keys. 

Aliena rolled her eyes as she muttered. “I can walk on my own two feet, you know.”

Tom ignored her as he struggled to get his door unlocked and open. It was difficult with a body over his shoulders, but he did it. The minute he walked through the door— he let Ali down. 

As she regained her footing, Tom locked the door behind him. Ali stabilized herself rather quickly and threw her head back with an overexaggerated groan as she stomped away from Tom ‘n toward the stairs.

Tom turned back ‘round and shouted. “Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Ali rolled her eyes and faced him. A hip dropped as she said. “To bed.”

He shook his head. “No.” Tom walked right up to her face and repeated. “No. We’re going to talk about the little show you put on at the pub. Huh?”

Ali averted her gaze from him and began shaking her leg.

Tom grabbed her chin and made her face him. “Huh? What the fuck was that t’night?”

Aliena couldn’t tell ya a blag. What he did went straight to her cunt and the fact she was looking to fuck tonight— did not help her case at all.

Tom released her chin and waited for Aliena to answer.

She sighed and waved her left arm out before letting it drop to her side. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about, Tom.”

He scoffed.

“I DON’T... know what you’re talking about ‘cause all I was doing was having some fun with my mates. That’s all.” 

Tom shook his head. “No, that’s not all. You got on that bar top and sang and danced. You got drunk ‘n started making a fool of yourself.”

Aliena tsked, rolling her eyes, and throwing her head back. “I wasn’t fucking drunk.”

“Yeah fucking right!”

Aliena looked at him in disbelief. “You know what! You weren’t even fucking there, so I don’t even know how the fuck you knew about what I was doing, by the way! Don’t tell me you had another Peaky Blinder looking after me. ‘Cause that’d mean you sicked three people on me tonight, and I’d want to know the fucking reason for that too. ”

“Finn phoned me, worried about ya. And I did not sick three people on you tonight. I only told Finn to look after you.”

Aliena sighed deeply at the news, her eyes rolling again. A hand came up to her forehead and she rubbed it. “Finn...” She whispered. “Of fucking course, that goddamn kid.” Aliena didn’t even look at Tom again. Instead, she waved him off as she turned around while walking toward the staircase. 

“And where do you think you’re going, Ali? We’re not done here!” He shouted as he watched her climb the stairs. His gaze naturally falling on her arse. 

She craned her head back a little as she replied. “Yes, we fucking are. Both of our emotions are high right now. There’ll be no moving forward in this conversation. So good night, Tom.” 

Tom shook his head, his pointer finger running over his bottom lip. Angrily, he ripped off his coat, and threw both it and his cap on his sofa. He marched up the stairs as he shouted for Aliena.

Dumbly, Ali was deciding which room she wanted to bunk in for the night, and it allowed Tom just enough time to catch up with her. He grabbed her by the crook of her arm and pulled her into his room. He threw her into it, to which she cried out. 

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” She yelled. 

None of this was helping, by the way. This roughness he was handling her with. Yeah, she liked this! So, he wasn’t winning in the slightest.

His eyes were blown wide, and his hands were on his hips. With the wave of his finger, he asked. “Yeah ‘n who the fuck was that who you were talkin’ too? Eh!”

Aliena squeezed her hands into fists before letting them relax as she stifled her groan. “God, Tommy! Why the fuck does it matter?”

“Who was he, Aliena! I want a fucking name!”

“I DON’T KNOW! Okay? He’s name was Robert and that’s all I know.” She yelled louder than Tom, which was making his blood boil more. Aliena clapped her hands and with finger guns, she began. “You know fucking what? Answer my fucking question, Tom. Why the fuck do you care? Huh?”

Aliena inched closer to him, and making Tom stand up straighter, slightly.

“Why the fuck did you have your men scare away other men away from me? Explain it to me.”

Tom chuckled, humorlessly. “For your own protection, sweetheart.”

She shook her head. “No. I would’ve believed you if you only ordered them to maim anyone who tried assaulting me. That would make it believable. But to put a city wide order that I was not to be fucking approached in the slightest! That even if I went up to them, they better run the other fucking direction unless they wanted to lose their eyes! No… Fucking no. So, tell me, Thomas. What the fuck is up?” 

Aliena was standing directly under Tom. She could hear his heavy breathing with clarity. He didn’t respond. She scoffed and walked away from him further into the room. 

By the grace of “intoxication,” Aliena felt like she was finally bold enough. She was going to blame it on the alcohol. If what she was about to do, backfired on her— she’d deny, deny, deny.

Tom watched as Ali walked away from him before facing him. The air about her was different. She didn’t look angry and annoyed anymore; she looked like she was on a mission. It was attractive. Seductive. Arousing.

Aliena’s fingertips trailed up her arm, an eyebrow raised as she said. “You wanna know why I was even talking to Robert, Thomas.” Her fingertips grazed up her left shoulder and across her collarbone. “It’s because I intended on fucking him.” Her voice trailed off at the end.

Tom’s head snapped up and he looked at her straight in the eyes, flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. 

‘She—! She was gonna what?’

Aliena giggled, humorlessly, as she took in Tommy’s expression. Her fingertips stopped her dance as she did so. Ali composed herself rather quickly ‘n she continued. “I was going to fuck him...” She shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips as she said. “To finally get over you.”

Aliena cocked her head to the side and waited for his reaction. Tom shuffled his stance and tucked his hands into his pockets. He could feel his eyes glaze over and lust creep on him as Aliena teasingly had a single fingernail under the strap of her dress.

Aliena looked away before looking back at him. “So, there it is, Tommy. I said it. Now, you have two options. You either walk out that door, or...” Aliena attempted to look sexual as she slipped both of the straps of her dress down her shoulders ‘n let it fall to the ground. 

Tom gulped at the sight of her. Her bare breasts. The sight of her in nothing but her panties.

“You fuck me.” She finished, fixing her posture. 

Truthfully, she was trembling in anxiety. She hoped to God she wasn’t making a fool of herself.

Tom had to internally fight his demons and he needed to do it quickly, out of respect for her. It was a whole lot of, “should he” or “should he not.” But then, Aliena just had to trail her fingertip down her neck again with this far-off gaze and he knew his choice.

Tom rushed toward Aliena and captured her lips, hungrily. Aliena couldn’t help but gasp happily. Her mouth opening wide. Tom didn’t waste the opportunity to shove his tongue inside. He made her walk backward toward the wall. The pace caused Ali to be shoved into the wall. The pain that erupted in her back made her moan into his mouth. 

Tom’s hands trailed up from her waist all the way to her breasts and he squeezed them eagerly. Almost wantonly, Ali gasped with a smile again as she arched her back into Tom’s hands.

This… This is what Tom was talking about. This passion, this feeling of completion! This was it!

Tom parted from her lips which made her pant for air. He pressed kisses on the side of her mouth, her cheek, before peppering her neck with them. Aliena’s fingers found Tommy’s hair and she found herself pressing him closer against her neck. 

‘So, she feels it here...’ He thought.

Tom increased his antics. Nipping, sucking, and kissing her neck all over. While Aliena wasn’t moaning, she was panting ‘n gasping as if she couldn’t breath. Hitching as if she were in pain. 

Tom left her neck and lowered himself down to her breasts. He rolled her left nipple in his mouth while still kneading her right breast. When he decided to tug on her nipple with his teeth, he tugged on her right nipple with his fingers. Aliena gasped and yanked Tom’s hair as she arched her back into him further.

“Tommy...” She rasped. “I—! Please.” 

Mentally, it hurt her to plead like this. It sent her cheeks aflame, and she would’ve hid her face in embarrassment if she wasn’t feeling so much pleasure from running her fingers through his hair.

As Tom moved to her right tit, he shushed her and whispered against her skin. “Patience, love.”

Aliena’s breath hitched once more as Tom nibbled on her nipple, her thighs rubbed together. It did nothing, but allow her to get some pent up energy out of her. 

Tom let go of her right nipple with one last tug before he rose up a little to begin marking up the space above her breasts. Aliena giggled at him.

“So, are you a tits man, then, Tommy?” She asked breathily, a giggle at the end of her sentence.

Tom stopped sucking on a particular spot on her chest as he began to smile. He picked his head up and pecked her lips repeatedly. “Yours. I’ve. Been. Wanting to. Do this. To yours.”

Aliena’s hands had slid down to his face and she stroked his cheek lovingly. She parted from their pecks and whispered. “Who am I to deny you, then?”

Tom stared into her eyes before hooking his hands in the crooks of her knees and carrying her. Ali yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck before going into a giggling fit. Tom walked over to his bed and plopped her down on it. 

Aliena bounced as a result. Tom hurriedly back to yank his clothes off and cursed himself for wearing so many accessories. While Tom was working on taking off his shirt sleeve garters, Ali had scooted herself down the bed and worked on getting his belt off.

The whole situation was laughable, so Tom began to laugh— which made Aliena laugh. Once Tom got the bloody things off, Aliena had already thrown aside his belt and unzipped his pants. Tom bent down and tried to kiss Aliena. 

She realized what he was trying to do ‘n met him halfway by standing on her knees. Grateful that she allowed him to bend less, he continued working on unfastening the buttons on his vest ‘n shirt while slipping off his shoes. He took off his shoes, stepped out of his pants, and kicked them both away while throwing his vest and button up off his shoulders. 

The pair broke their kiss to let Tommy yank off his under shirt. Tom found her lips once more as he slowly climbed on top of her and hovered above her on his bed. After a minute or two more of kissing, he parted and asked against her lips. “Are you sure you want this, Aliena? We can stop right now.”

Ali stared into Tommy’s eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. She nodded her head. “I want you, Tommy. It’s always been you.”

They stared into each other’s eyes a bit longer before Tom’s head ducked down and began trailing deep kisses all the way down to her groin where the hem of her panties lied. He placed kisses along the hem as he hooked his fingers into the side of the band, and slowly slid them down. 

Aliena’s eyes were closed shut and she was fisting the blankets of his bed. She flinched at every kiss he placed closer and closer to her cunt. 

Tom licked a long stripe upward toward Ali’s clit as he slid her panties down her legs entirely. Ali whimpered as her hips bucked. Tom couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth. Aliena was biting her bottom lip so harshly that she was afraid it would split. 

Tom spread her pussy and started off slow before working his way toward violently flicking her clit with his tongue and sucking on it. Aliena still didn’t allow her moans to escape her, instead, only letting out whimpers, gasps, and pants. 

Aliena’s thighs clamped around Tom’s ears, but that didn’t stop him. Hell, it couldn’t even stop him from hearing her little mewls. 

Ali felt that familiar build up growing in the pit of her stomach, and her hand flew to Tom’s hair. “Tommy, I’m close!” She said. “Stop, please. I don’t wanna... without ya...”

Tom didn’t stop, in fact, he worked her faster. “Go on.” He rasped. “Come.”

Aliena’s hands flew to her face as her face contorted in pure pleasure. Tom didn’t like that. She was blocking the view. Ali threw her head back and finally let out an audible moan. Her hips wildly bucked against Tom’s mouth and chin, and he let her ride out her climax. 

He let go of her with a pop and a hiss. Tom took a deep breath, trying to catch it before sliding a finger along her opening. Aliena’s hands had fallen to the sides of her head. An uncontrollable smile on her face. She outstretched her arms and whispered, lovingly. “Tommy...”

Tom felt his heart swell and without stopping his teasing— he leaned toward her and kissed her as she wanted.

Aliena didn’t mind the taste of herself on his lips, she was used to it. Having been a chronic masturbator. Ali tugged on Tom’s bottom lip and when she finally let go, she coquettishly whispered. “Fuck me, Tommy, please. I’m ready.”

Tom���s eyes looked over her face and he chuckled. He pecked her lips before replying, “No, it’s your first time, Ali. I won’t be rough with you. This time.”

Ali’s mouth stretched upward into a smile and she bit her lip. “Promise?”

As Tom finally slipped a finger inside her— making her gasp, he rubbed his nose against hers, replying, “I promise.”

Tom slowly pumped his finger in and out of Ali, and truthfully, the girl felt nothing. She’s teased her hole with her fingers loads of times. So, it was just a foreign feeling. But for the sake of seemingly “innocent,” she began panting a little.

Tom added a second finger and then a third— and that’s when she felt something. Her pants turned real and she wondered if he had to add the third finger so that she could accommodate to his size. She still hadn’t seen him. 

Meanwhile, Tom was handling his delayed satisfaction just fine. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, so he was lucky enough to just be able to focus on making this the best experience for Aliena as possible. When he felt that her pussy was sucking his fingers in, instead of trying to push them out— he removed them. 

Aliena moaned and looked up at Tom. Tom misinterpreted her gaze as her being scared and was quick to reassure her that everything would be alright. In reality, Aliena was just startled that her pleasure had been taken away from her.

She never thought she’d get off on fingers. She thought it was impossible for her. 

‘You really do need someone else’s fingers.’ She thought.

Tom pulled down his boxers and kicked them away. He was about to gather her wetness when Ali took his hand and pulled it toward her mouth. She gathered the saliva in her mouth and let it fall down onto his hand. His cock throbbed in his hand at the action. 

He couldn’t believe that she’d be this tempting. 

Tom lathered his cock in Ali’s spit and pumped his cock a few times, hissing at the pleasure he gave himself before lining up to Aliena’s entrance. Tommy hovered above her and took his free hand, and interlocked it with hers. 

“You ready?” He asked once more.

Aliena nodded. “Yes, yes, please...”

Tom kissed Ali as he slowly entered her. Ailena moaned from the sensation. Tommy began littering the side of her mouth and cheek with kisses. They both groaned when he was fully sheathed inside her. Her walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him tightly. 

Made him grunt from the sensation. 

Aliena wasn’t in pain, but it has certainly been awhile since a cock has been inside her. Not to mention, she was still pretty sure this body was a virgin. There was no pain, but there was a lot of pressure. She couldn’t tell if he was big or not.

Aliena just felt very “full” and “satisfied.”

“Move, Tommy.” She rasped.

Tom breathily chuckled. “I can’t. You haven’t gotten used to it, yet.”

Aliena gripped his chin and made him face her. “Tommy, move slowly. I want to feel you.”

How the fuck could he deny that?

Slowly, Tom began moving his hips. He’d pull out just enough so his tip won’t fall out and then slide all the way back in. Ali whimpered at the feeling, but after enough times— she found herself wanted more. So, she vocalized it.

“Faster, Tommy.” 

Tom complied to her wishes and began thrusting faster. He found himself admiring this whole situation. Intoxicated on the feeling he’d been missing from… Yeah.  It was Ali. He’d fallen in love with Ali. 

Tom was taking in every reaction she had. With her legs wrapped around his waist, her breasts bouncing softly with each thrust, and her face contorted in pleasure. She couldn’t hide since their fingers were interlocked. 

Tom’s breath began to waiver as pants and grunts escaped his lips. He picked up the pace to which Ali couldn’t hold back her moans anymore. This only encouraged Tom to go even faster. 

“Fuck, Tommy! Yes!”

Ali was unsure of what she was feeling. She couldn’t tell if she was climbing toward her big O, or if she was getting off on pleasing him. She actually never orgasmed when using her dildo, but this was different. Sex with Tommy was different, of course it was, and that’s what threw her off. 

It wasn’t till Ali began bucking her hips upward did she realize she was really feeling it. Ali admired Tom’s blissed out face. She was doing this to him, and it absolutely gave her an ego boost. 

They were meeting each other’s thrust so roughly that all you could hear was skin slapping against skin along with the sloppy wet sound coming from Aliena’s pussy. It fueled them both with more lust for one another. 

Aliena felt that pit in her stomach again and she cried out as did Tom since her pussy tightened around his cock. He was so close and her tightening didn’t help at all. 

“Tommy, I’m clo—!”

Tom slammed his lips on hers before reaching down with one hand and began rubbing her clit. Aliena’s hips stuttered, her legs trembled, and her grip on Tommy’s hand turned iron. Tom pounded into her cunt, overwhelmed with pleasure. Aliena’s squeal as she came was muffled by Tom’s kiss. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her back arched into his chest. 

Tom wasn’t too far behind. He parted from the kiss and looked up at the ceiling as he came. Strained pants escaped him as he rode out their highs. Tom hiked Aliena’s legs up and got incredibly deeper which made Aliena giggle and sigh.  

Ali was surprised at how fucking nice it felt to be came inside of, but she loved every minute of it. Ali was the one to capture Tom’s lips this time and when she parted, she asked.

“You down for a round two?”

Tommy chuckled as he rested his forehead against her own. “Why the fuck not!”

Aliena gasped as he flipped them over with her now on top. Aliena laughed breathily and steadied herself by placing both of her hands on Tom’s chest. Tom was taken back at how sexy she was above him.

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729​ @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @tlfshelby1 @halepea @lilymurphy03 @marsfireeyes @masumiyetimziyanoldu @i-love-superhero​ @thatweirddaydreamer​ @xxbeckybeexx-blog​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @well-hydratedpvssy​ @the-jess-life @babaohhhriley @7shadesofharold​ @melissamaine​ @urbankaite2

[alecmagnuslwb]

Marriage is a Contract and My Signature is Unreadable

Read on AO3

John’s never seen a bride wear fishnets with their stunning white dress, but Dinah Lance is pulling it off somehow. Admittedly though John hasn’t seen that many brides that weren’t ghosts or the earthly demonic embodiment of some sort of hell beastie so maybe his experience in weddings and bridal wear is a bit skewed.

Of course he’s also a bit skewed because in his eyes no one at this wedding, not even the bride no disrespect to the woman who’s by far one of the few supers he can truly say he likes, is as stunning as his date. Zatanna sits beside him at their table, the reception in full swing now, her legs crossed the deep navy-blue asymmetrical dress she’s wearing showing off a tantalizing bit of her leg. Her tattoo, the twin to his peeks out from the front of the dress right next to the silver lining at the edges where the dress straps around her neck. She’s a fucking vision his Zatanna.

“I can’t believe they finally did it,” Zatanna says gliding her silver French tipped nails with little crescent moons on them along her glass of champagne. “I really thought Lois and Clark would be the only ones to take the plunge.”

Supers aren’t known for tying the knot, their world is so complicated and their relationships so wild they never find the time to actually get around to it. The fact that Dinah and Oliver managed to not only successfully get engaged, but plan a real wedding and have the ceremony without any major incidents happening in the middle is a miracle if John’s ever actually seen one.

“Who do you think’ll be next?” John says surveying the room. Every hero he’s ever met and ever butted heads with is here out of costume and all dressed up to the nines. There’s a congregation of Green Lantern’s by the bar, Superman is on the dance floor poorly attempting to floss as Nightwing laughs his fine ass off at him, the Flash is somehow dancing with his girlfriend and eating every item on the buffet simultaneously.  “Seems like two in a row will make a domino effect, yeah?”

Zatanna hums in thought her piercing blue eyes with the glittery navy blue and silver eyeliner around them shimmering in the light as she tilts her head in thought. She carefully scratches at the space beside the cluster of tiny rhinestones artfully placed around her right eyebrow and settles her eyes to a table across the room with a smile.

“Wally and Linda for sure,” she says tilting her head their direction. John swivels to look at them. Unlike Barry who’s still zooming back and forth from Iris to the buffet, Wally is wholly engrossed in every movement Linda makes as she talks rapidly her hands moving all about as she speaks to Mia Dearden on the other side of the table. That is a man wholly in love, enraptured by the woman he gets to call his own. John understands the sentiment as he looks back to Zatanna her dark blue painted lips still resting in a beautiful smile.

“What if it was us?” John asks leaning in closer to her a wicked smile on his face.

Zatanna snorts, a harsh indelicate thing that on anyone else would be unattractive.

“Aww, love you too, Zee,” John says faux offended falling back against his chair. He knew it was an absurd suggestion the moment he said it.

“I’m sorry, you know I love you,” she says holding up a hand attempting to hide her laughter. “It’s just look at us, we’re coming up on our first and only three-year anniversary. We’re not exactly known for being good at this.”

It’s a valid point. Despite the fact they have technically been together for over a decade they’ve gone through their fair share of ups and downs, break ups and make ups and even a few trips to hell and literal deaths. John has screwed up more times than he can count and even Zatanna has bungled it once or twice. Complicated has at almost all times been their relationship status, but the past three years, ever since John got his head out of his ass and finally decided to sort out this one particular aspect of his life they’ve been good, solid.

“Okay, true, but you’re stuck with me and we can’t act like there aren’t benefits to the whole marriage sham,” he says stretching his arms behind his head.

“It’s extremely comforting you called it a sham,” Zatanna says giving him a fondly exasperated look. “But you know maybe you’re right the tax incentives alone are a real benefit.”

“Now, the tax incentives would be appealing if I had ever in my life filed my taxes,” John says with a laugh.

“You’ve never filed taxes?” Zatanna says with a slightly startled look.

John just shrugs tossing back the remainder of his champagne. “It’s not like I’ve ever had any real upstanding type of job that would require me to fill out a W4 or whatever.”

“It’s a W2,” Zatanna corrects. “And John you live with me, our landlord made me put your name on the lease because he saw you there so much. You could totally get caught.”

“Eh, it’ll be fine,” John says with an unconcerned wave of his hand. “The fact that I’m not technically a citizen of this country is probably a bigger issue than the tax thing anyway.”

“John!” Zatanna exclaims with a laugh.

“What? You can’t have thought I actually went to a baseball park and held my hands up and did the national anthem or whatever,” he says kicking his feet up on the empty chair next to him.

“Clearly you haven’t considering that’s not at all how citizenship works,” Zatanna chuckles. “But hey there’s a potential benefit of marriage for us, citizenship.”

“Ah the romance of marrying not for love, but so the government pricks don’t send your ass packing,” John reaches out a hand tangling his fingers with Zatanna’s on the table his thumb running small circles into her hand.

Zatanna hums. “I guess lack of romance aside it wouldn’t matter since I can always just portal you back into the country on a whim anyways.”

John nods in agreement trying to come up with another benefit they might be able to actually take advantage of. “You couldn’t testify against me in court, that could be incredibly useful down the line.”

Zatanna raises one jeweled eyebrow, “Is there a crime you’ve committed lately you’ve neglected to tell me about?”

John thinks for a moment genuinely scanning his memories in case there is something he forgot to tell her about. “No,” he settles on confidently. He’s pretty sure at least. “I’m just thinking in general considering my track record in the past.”

Zatanna pats the top of his hand with a smile. “As if any prison could hold you long enough for me to even be asked a single question.”

John just laughs again, “Alright so maybe there aren’t that many marital benefits for us to take advantage of then.”

“No parents to satisfy,” Zatanna sighs. “And of course making medical decisions for one another doesn’t really matter when you use magic and superhero doctors that definitely don’t accept any sort of co-pay,” she adds on with a contemplative bite of her lip.

“Half your friends hate me,” John says thoughtfully with a chuckle.

“And half your friends are dead,” Zatanna says ruefully tapping a nail to her chin. “The wedding party would be abysmally uneven.”

“I haven’t bought a new tie in years,” John says tugging at the red thing around his neck. He looks hilariously basic compared to Zatanna’s ensemble essentially wearing what he wears any given day of the week the only difference being Zatanna had forced him into a subtly lace patterned black jacket for a change and repainted his chipped nails for the first time in two weeks. “It’d make the pictures look horribly out of place.”

“Plus let’s be real I’m a show woman, I’d probably hate having to share the spotlight with you for one day,” Zatanna smiles teasingly. John smiles back shifting so that he’s scooting his chair closer to hers. He lifts a hand to her face twisting a long dark hair that’s slipped from her twisty updo held in place by two sharp silver hair pins with crescent moons at the end to match her nails and tucking it back behind her ear.

“So, basically there’s not a benefit in this world or a thing that would change if we got married,” John says letting the silky hair go.

“The only thing I can think of is that I like shiny jewelry and you look hot when you wear silver rings,” Zatanna says reaching back and pulling the two pins from her hair letting it all fall across her shoulders, the one stand out streak of navy blue appearing as it falls.

“And we can buy each other jewelry anytime without a reason,” he says brushing the bit of hair that’s fallen into her eyes away.

Zatanna smiles at him once before standing holding out a hand that he instantly takes. She guides him to the dance floor twining her fingers behind his head slowly.

They sway slowly to some sappy love song John vaguely recognizes their eyes locked on one another.

“You know,” she says after a while her fingers pulling through the hair that’s getting a bit too long at the base of his neck. “Just because I don’t want to get married doesn’t mean I don’t want you for as long as I can have you, right?”

He does know that. It’s inexplicable to him why someone as bright and vibrant and good as her wants him, but she does and he intends to keep it that way till the demons or the cigarettes kill him.

“I know. I’m happy how we are, knowing us, and by us I mean me, marriage would end up mucking everything up anyways,” he says pulling her in closer his hands moving from their grip on her waist to the exposed small of her back. “We can just keep going to everyone else’s weddings and raiding their open bars.”

Zatanna laughs then leans up kissing him once soft and slow not even smudging her lipstick in the slightest. She stays close when she pulls back resting her head on his chest as they continue to sway.

“We really need to get your name off of my lease though, I don’t need the government showing up and trying to audit me,” she says softly. “I’d be a nightmare for Mistress of Magic brand.”

John laughs loud and bright leaning his head down to kiss her once atop the head already planning a minor break in to the landlord’s apartment. It’ll be okay if he gets caught, married or not he knows she won’t testify against him.

[vintage-squid]

Threading Our Future

Summary: When up-and-coming designer Virgil Psykhe lands an interview with his favourite fashion label, he has no idea that the attention he's drawn to himself is being taken away from someone very important: the Lady of the Summer Court. Scorned and furious, she sends her son to kill the insolent human.

But when Janus lays eyes on Virgil for the first time, his breath is stolen by the fluttering of his heart and he knows he won't be able to follow through with his mother's orders.

A modern fae re-telling of the Eros and Psyche myth!

Pairing: Virgil/Janus (background Logan/Patton) Characters: Virgil, Janus, Roman, Remy, Patton, Logan, Remus  Rating: T Warnings: mild violence and blood mention, nonsexual nudity, literal sleeping together  Word count: 10 363 

----- 

Virgil Psykhe groaned as he stood from his chair, bracing both hands against the small of his back and pressing until he felt a satisfying series of pops from his hips and up his spine. He should know better by now than to spend hours on end hunched over his projects without taking proper breaks, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Once he got focused, his whole world narrowed to sketch, cut, sew, trim. It was like he was possessed by some crazy spirit who deemed his sarcastic, introverted ass worthy enough to use as a vessel for creation. At least, that’s how he described the near-frenzy he would fall into when his worried fathers questioned after his health.

Was he getting enough sleep? (No.) When was the last time he’d had something to eat? (Did the granola bar he had earlier count?) Would he be willing to drink more water if Papa cut up some citrus to add? (Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea...)

He knew their fretting came from a place of love. As the youngest of three, he was the baby of the family. Both of his older sisters had married a few years ago, now living with their husbands in a couple of larger, nearby cities. They had told their parents the distant moves were for their husband’s jobs, but Virgil knew better. His sisters had never seemed to fit with the unique … energy of their small hometown.

Virgil, however, had yet to even move out, let alone find anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. Thankfully, while his dads did want him to eventually find love, they were mostly just happy to support his dreams of becoming a famous designer.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil glanced around his cluttered studio. Like he would ever actually be a big name in the fashion industry. Yeah, sure, he wanted more than anything to get his designs out there for models of all backgrounds and appearances to showcase the beauty that was in every body type, but he didn’t want his first name attached to that kind of attention. Nope. No thanks. He would much rather people enjoy his work for what it was, not just because it came from him.

Maybe a pseudonym would work? Eh, he still had time to think about it anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to be traveling far from his studio in his dads’ basement any time soon after all. Picking up his phone, Virgil glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Shit, he was late to meet up with Remy, and he had forgotten to plug his charger in. He groaned as he shoved his phone in his pocket anyway and grabbed his wallet, headphones, and house key. That drama queen was probably going to bitch and moan about being made to wait until Virgil finally agreed to pay for his drink. Not that Virgil really minded, but he had appearances to keep up.

With one last glance around to make sure he had everything, he dashed up the stairs to head out.

-----

Jogging down the street, Virgil turned past the Spirits’ Temple, where the town’s inhabitants left offerings to the spirits of the forest on the first of every month. Tradition claimed that each month was to be dedicated to one of the twelve local spirits who held dominion over different areas of day-to-day life, and that by honouring them, the town would prosper. At the height of the monthly festivals, there would be candles lining the marble steps, fake vines and string lights wrapped around the temple’s stone columns, and a wide spread of wine and honey-sweetened foods to be served. Some of this would be up for grabs on the buffet table, but a selection was always saved to be placed in one of the twelve bronze braziers, which one depended on the month, lining the sides of the temple. Each brazier was set in front of a stone statue carved with a symbol that denoted which spirit it belonged to.

At some point during the evening, everyone in town would take a moment to approach the massive fireplace along the back wall of the temple and toss in a part of their meal with a quietly murmured prayer for luck in some strange-sounding language. To this day, Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying, but his dad had taught him the correct pronunciation, and he was too superstitious not to follow through. Besides, it wasn’t like he could look too ridiculous doing it when literally everyone else was doing the same thing.

Approaching one of the two coffee shops in town, and the only one he ever frequented, Virgil shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of weird small-town rituals. Inside, it was easy to spot Remy sitting at their usual table with his sunglasses tucked into the front of his shirt and a drink already in hand. As he slid into his side of the booth, Virgil was surprised to see his favourite order (hot chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and a slice of banana bread) already waiting for him.

“I was gonna apologize for being late, but clearly I don’t have to,” he said, glancing up and narrowing his eyes. “What did you do?”

Remy threw both hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Hey now, why did I have to do something wrong in order to surprise my best friend with his favourite goodies?”

Virgil snorted and crossed his arms, giving his friend a Look.

“Fine, fine!” Remy blew out a sigh and dropped his hands onto the table. “So, maybe I did do something, and maybe you’re gonna be a little mad at me for it, but I promise it’s okay! It’s gonna pay off and you’re totally going to thank me for this one day!”

Virgil dropped his face into his hands with a groan and dug the heels of his palms against his eyelids. “Just spit it out, Remy. What the fuck did you do?”

“Remember that photoshoot we did a couple weeks back with the latest ‘famous-one-day’ designs you sewed up?” Virgil could hear the familiar sounds of Remy typing on his phone. “Well babe, you’ve been making ‘one days’ for too long! So I decided to make ‘one day’ into ‘today’! Ta-dah!”

Bracing himself, Virgil peeked out from the dark safety of his hands, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision and focus on the phone screen wavering in front of him. Right there, staring back at him from within Remy’s well-manicured clutch, was an email addressed to Penelope with attached photos from their shoot.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t sen-”

“I sent our pics to your favourite fashion label! The one and only Penelope! Known for their breathtaking lines like ‘Faith’ and ‘Fidelity’ that reimagined what it meant to be fashionable! And the best part!” Remy paused for dramatic effect, all but wiggling in his seat. “They emailed me back! They want to do an interview with you next month on the first!”

There was a loud thud as Virgil’s head met the table. If they hadn’t been sitting in public, he definitely would have started screaming too. Instead, all that came out was a muttered, “I fucking hate you. Why would you do this to me? You know I suck at talking to people; they’re gonna hate me and then tell all of the other companies to never work with me and then I’ll definitely never make it.”

A hand settled on top of his head and began to run through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp at the same time. “Don’t be so dramatic, Virge. This is gonna be great for you, I promise. When have I ever led you astray?”

Virgil glared at his friend and opened his mouth, but Remy cut him off.

“Ahp-ahp! Rhetorical question, babes. You're going to thank me for this, I promise.”

When Virgil remained silent, the hand that had been petting his hair slid down to cup his cheek and lift his chin up.

“Hey,” his best friend murmured softly. “If you really, really don’t want to do this, I can email them back and cancel, but I think you should go for it, Virge. This could be your big break!” Remy’s thumb had begun running a soothingly back and forth over his cheek. Virgil didn’t even try to hide the way he relaxed into the comforting gesture, leaning more weight into his friend’s palm. “I’ll even come with you to the interview, okay? I’ll be right there the entire time - gotta make sure they meet your number one model after all,” he added with a playful wink.

Damn Remy and his extroverted influence. Virgil sighed and sat up fully, reluctantly pulling away from the comforting hold and silently relieved when Remy’s hand dropped to link their fingers instead. “I guess as long as you’re there too, then I won’t be the only one making a fool of myself.”

“That’s the spirit!” Remy cheered, ignoring the looks some of the other patrons shot their way at the noise.

Keeping their hands interlocked, Virgil picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip of the sweet ambrosia as he listened to his best friend ramble about his plans for their future.

-----

Somehow, the word got out. Everyone and their cousin’s dog knew about Virgil’s interview and had seen some of the photos that had been leaked. All of them wanted to get a glimpse of not only the representatives of the big fashion label (who may as well have been celebrities to the small community), but also the unobtrusive young man who had brought the attention onto their town.

Virgil clung to Remy’s hand as they approached the café where the interview was going to be taking place. It wasn’t their usual haunt, something Virgil was grateful for; if things went south, he didn’t want that memory attached to one of his favourite places. People were already gathering outside, gossiping amongst themselves or attempting to peer through the front windows. He longed to pull his hood up and hide his face, but Papa had spent all morning helping him make sure his hair and make-up (and everything else) looked interview ready. Not to mention he wasn’t even wearing his favourite hoodie to tuck himself away into.

At Remy’s insistence, he had donned one of the outfits he made last year. The top was made of a flowy material, tighter at the wrists and loose in the arms, wrapping comfortably around his chest to tie in the front above his navel. It was sewn from a high-quality plum linen with a black lace webbing over top. For the bottom, Virgil had pieced together different shades of grey and black fabrics until he had a pair of loose patchwork pants that sat at the hips and left a strip of his stomach visible. He had completed the look with a fresh pair of high-tops that tied the look together despite the discordant styles. With one last look to his best friend for reassurance, Virgil nodded and they waded through the crowd together, on their way to their future.

-----

Singing to herself, Roman stepped through the woods with all the ethereal grace granted to her by her station. As she made her way to the quaint little human town, Roman was accompanied by a pair of mourning doves. While one had alighted on her shoulder, the other fluttered about, and both were cooing in harmony with her otherworldly song.

Her body was draped in a sheer chiffon number, as blood-red as the wine she drank from each year at the celebration of her power and beauty. It was naught much more than a thin layer of fabric over one shoulder and wrapped about her shapely waist, exposing one breast and leaving little work for the imagination on the rest of her body. The finest embroidery coloured the lower hem with twisting rose vines, as if they had sprung from the ground she walked on and reached up for her attention. Her hair was left to tumble free, as wild and untamed as the waves she had been born from so long ago. The Lady of the Summer Court had arrived.

In no time at all, the temple the humans of the village had built for her and her compatriots so long ago came into view. Roman hurried her steps, eager to feast on the delightful offerings she knew would be awaiting her. She hoped one of them left pomegranate; it was her favourite. The plump fruit so easy to tear open to reveal the juicy flesh inside - and the crunchy seeds! Oh!

Grinning, Roman moved around the side of the temple, stepping between the columns to slip inside and make her way towards her ceremonial statue along the right with the other ruling gentry of the Seelie Court. However, when she got close enough to see into the massive dish, indignation began to boil in her blood. Before her, in her brazier, lay half as many offerings as were given to her in the years passed. She looked around, hoping to find something else had been set aside or misplaced, but there was nothing. Seething, she spun on her heel and stalked towards the front of the temple in search of answers.

Outside, two attendants were working to douse the remaining candles to be collected on the morrow after Roman had departed. Well, they were certainly going to be in for a surprise when they returned to find their pitiful offerings still there in the morning. Even with the great distance between them, as a fae, Roman’s sharp ears did not struggle to overhear the conversation between the two humans.

“-believe something like this could happen in our little town,” the one on the right was saying. “Especially from that quiet kid! What’d you say his name was again?”

“He’s the Psykhe’s youngest boy, Virgil.

“No kidding! Sam was telling me the kid showed up for the interview wearing this wild statement piece, like a full fashion runway. I bet his dads sure are proud. I heard half the town was outside Burnsen’s hoping to get a front-row seat. They certainly weren’t here, that’s for sure.”

“Damn shame,” the second human agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a turn out this small for a Spirit’s Night. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

The pair continued their gossip as they finished with the candles and moved onto tidying some of the other nonessential decorations. Roman wasn’t interested in listening any further; she had what she needed. Turning away from the pitiful little temple those putrid humans had so desecrated on her day of honour, the Lady of the Summer Court stormed back into the forest, seething vitriol.

“How dare these humans offer this worthless boy the worship and reverence meant for me! My status is all but set in the very stars and they do nothing more than drag it through the muddy earth!” She screeched, scaring away the doves who had been lingering nearby. “So much for me, the ancient mother of this forest who feeds and fosters the very nature of this place! If nothing lusts, then nothing reproduces! Did they ever consider that before they forced me to associate my status with a mere mortal child?”

As Roman cried out, the very trees parted for her, leaning their trunks away and raising their boughs out of the path of the furious fae. She paid them little heed as she marched down a trail long familiar. “Won’t this boy, whoever he is, be glad to know he has claimed the honours that are due to me by right? Not for much longer, this I swear by my very name! He will regret this beauty to which he has no claim!”

At the climax of her tirade, Roman stopped before the ivy-woven doors of her son’s lofty domain. She would teach this Virgil what happened when you scorned the fae.

-----

Across town, still wearing the outfit and makeup from earlier, though much disheveled, Virgil ran as if his life depended on it. At this point, though, his life may as well have been over, so what was the point in struggling on? Down the street and through the park, he sprinted until he could go no further and crumbled to the ground at the top of the large hill that overlooked the fish ponds. On his hands and knees, he clutched at the damp earth and panted heavily through his heaving sobs.

It was over. Penelope didn’t want to pick him up as a designer. Sure, they liked the selection that Remy had sent them, enough to come talk to him about it, but when the representatives had taken a look through the rest of his portfolio? They hadn’t said they hated it outright, but Virgil was certain his designs were too gothic, too dark, too risky for mainstream fashion. They were going to talk with some of the higher-ups back at the designer studio, but Virgil wasn’t going to be holding his breath. He’d seen their expressions clear as day while they flipped through his work.

Collapsing forward, Virgil buried his face into the crook of his elbow and curled his knees towards his chest, sobbing even harder. He had told Remy after the interview that he needed some space, but now that he was out here alone, he wanted nothing more than a hug from his best friend. Fuck, how was he going to tell his dads about this? It would break their heart!

Virgil shook his head free of the thought; he couldn’t handle any more right now. So he lay on the ground with his cheek pressed against the cool night grass, and cried until he passed out from exhaustion.

-----

In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Virgil stirred when he felt a pair of arms slide under his body and hoist him up into a strong hold. His head lolled to the side until his temple dropped against a firm body. Then, a kiss was pressed to his forehead, tickling his skin with...a mustache?

“Go back to sleep, little human,” a high, scratchy-sounding voice said. “Jay doesn’t want you to see anything just yet! We don’t want to ruin the surprise, eh?”

Virgil’s face scrunched in confusion, but before he could crack his eyes open to see who was carrying him, a warm breath blew across his face and carried him off to his dreams like a gentle breeze spiraling high into the air.

-----

When Virgil woke for the second time, it was with far more peace and tranquility than he usually felt when greeting the day. His bed was extra soft and luxurious beneath the swell of his hip and he was comfortably warm, though he couldn’t feel the usual weight of his blanket. Stretching his arms far above his head, Virgil suddenly snapped his eyes open when his fingertips were greeted not with the hard wall behind his headboard, but with a damp, spongy texture instead.

Scrambled to his feet, he looked around to discover he was at the edge of a clearing, carpeted with a thick moss that his feet sank slightly into and surrounded by trees who towered so far above him their canopies seemed lost secrets of the sky. To one side a stream babbled a song, its waters bright as day and clear as glass. Breathless, he turned a slow circle, feasting on the seemingly supernatural wonders with starving eyes. The sight that greeted Virgil as he turned full around, however, could have subsisted him for a lifetime.

At the very heart of the grove, sitting in its focal point, rose what he could only describe as a palace. The trees which made up its supporting columns were an ivory birch, though much wider than any Virgil had ever seen, with leaves seemingly grown from pure gold that glittered in the dappled sunlight they let through. Framed by these otherworldly goliaths, ivy vines had been woven together to form a grand door which opened of its own accord and bid Virgil to enter. Under a spell spun from his own awe and curiosity (and probably some of whatever magic this place had to be made of), Virgil strode forward.

Inside, the palace seemed to emulate its own light, reflecting off the vaulted ceiling and highlighting the polished stone walls decorated with endless silver reliefs of animals real and imagined. Virgil trailed his fingertips along the slithering spine of a snake as he passed, admiring the lifelike detail in each scale, but before he could venture much further, a voice spoke.

“Welcome.”

Virgil jumped, spinning around to search for the source of the voice, but no one was there. When they spoke again, it sounded like they were right over his shoulder.

“You have been invited into the home of the fae as a guest of honour, Virgil.” The man in question felt a strange twinge in his chest hearing his name from the voice. “If you follow the doors to your left, you will find a dining hall in which you may eat your fill; the foods are from your home world and you need not fear consuming them. To your right lay the bathing and bed chambers. Please, make yourself at home. You are safe here, my darling.”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Virgil called out into the empty room.

There was a small pause before the voice replied. “You may call me Janus for the time being. It matters not how I know your name, but you need not worry that I will give it to anyone else.”

“Not creepy at all,” Virgil murmured before raising his voice once more. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“Ahh, my darling, take care with your curiosity before it gets you into trouble. Fret not, I am here with you, though you cannot see me. I know it is hard, but you must trust in me, my love. I shall visit you this evening after the light of day has given way to the dark of night. So long as you promise not to look upon my face and let me remain shrouded in shadows, then I shall answer more of your questions then.”

“What? I’m supposed to trust you, but I’m not allowed to look at your face? What the fuck, dude?”

“I understand this may be a cause for alarm, but you must understand my perspective, dear one. If you were to gaze upon me uninhibited, I fear you would not fall in love with me in a manner which would be best for us both. Promise to me, Virgil.”

“Okay, okay, I promise. Why is this so important to you anyway?”

“Thank you. I wish to form a genuine bond with you, beloved, and I cannot do that if you are influenced by my appearance. That is not how I desire to court my future husband.”

“Husband? What do you mean future husband!?”

Virgil stood in place, waiting for any further response from the invisible person, but it seemed his host had vanished into the very air he spoke from. Blowing out a heavy sigh, Virgil looked from left to right and decided the faint grumbling in his abdomen was something he could ignore for the time being; he probably wouldn’t be able to stomach anything right now anyway. So, he made his way towards the baths, hoping a splash of cool water could wake him from this crazy dream.

Unfortunately, even after dunking his head under the cool water, Virgil was still stuck in the extravagant palace with an invisible host. He braced his hands on the sides of the stone bowl carved from the wall, staring blankly at the trickling waterfall that fed into the dish he had rinsed in. How the fuck did he get into this mess? The voice had mentioned something about this place belonging to the fae? What the fuck? There’s no way any of this could be real. Well, that Janus had said he would answer Virgil’s questions tonight, so there seemed little more he could do than wait.

The bedroom he had been given was grand, far larger than even his entire basement suite back home, and all of its drapings were more luxurious than Virgil had ever seen. He ran his fingers down the curtains that hung from the bedposts, marvelling at the quality and the depth of the colour. What he wouldn’t give to be able to create with fabrics of this pedigree. He fiddled with the tie of his shirt around his middle and settled onto one of the plush armchairs by the window. Now, to wait.

-----

Hours later, Virgil was startled awake from a light doze by the sound of footsteps approaching his door. He scrambled to his feet, keeping one hand braced on a bedpost to orient himself as he squinted through the darkness. It was so dark he couldn’t even make out the vague outlines of the furniture around the room.

The door opened.

Virgil tensed, gripping the bedpost tighter and raising his other arm in front of him defensively. From what he could see, backlit from the hall, the figure entering the room was about his height, maybe a little taller. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but the shadow he cast onto the floor seemed to be larger than his body mass would produce. The door closed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark.

“Janus?” Virgil asked nervously, hoping there wasn’t anyone else in the palace who would be coming into his room this late at night.

“Breathe, Virgil, it is only me.”

It was as if a spell of calm soothed over him, easing the tension from around his neck and within his chest. Virgil took a deep, relieving breath. Janus hadn’t come any further into the room, seemingly content to linger by the door.

“Um… hi?” Virgil winced at how awkward he sounded, but continued on regardless. “You said you would answer more of my questions, right?”

“That is correct, beloved. I will tell you as much as I am able to at this time.” There was the sound of shuffling in the dark. “May I join you on the bed? I think we will both be much more comfortable being seated for this conversation.”

Virgil bit his lip, looking between the bed and Janus despite not being able to see either. Eventually, he nodded, and then blushed when he realized what he’d done.

“Yeah… yeah, you can come sit over here, I guess.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

When the pair had gotten settled, Janus was seated at the foot of the bed, leaning up against the bedpost and seemingly unbothered by the strange situation. Virgil, on the other hand, had his back pressed against the headboard with his knees hugged to his chest. His feet were buried in the blankets and he was absently scrunching the soft material under his toes in a comforting, rhythmic motion. It was Janus who broke the silence first.

“What would you ask of me first, dearest?”

Virgil blew out a sigh. “Why did you bring me here? What are you going to do with me? Am I ever going to be allowed to go home? Will you-”

"Sh sh sh,” Janus crooned, “One at a time, beloved, all will be answered. In short, I do not know when you will be able to return to your home, or if you ever will, but it is for your own good!” Janus hurriedly added before Virgil could panic. “You see, there is someone very powerful who is very angry with you. Intentionally or not, you have caused her a great disrespect, and she will not rest until her dues have been met.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Janus sighed. “Because she is my mother, and she sent me to kill you.”

“What!?” Virgil screeched, throwing himself off the bed and slamming against the nearby wall. His nails scrabbled at the stone, desperate to clutch, claw, escape. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die! He snapped his head back and forth, searching for any sort of way out, but he was blinded by shadows and fear. A sharp cry escaped him when a hand suddenly wrapped around one of his own and he whimpered as it squeezed, expecting pain. Instead, a gentle crooning cut through the ringing in his ears.

“Breathe, Virgil, you are not in danger. You must calm down and listen.”

Janus’ voice was surprisingly tender for how powerfully it could be heard through Virgil’s panic. He was able to focus on it like a tether to pull himself into a more relaxed state of mind. At some point, he had begun to time his breathing with Janus’ as well, steady and even to a count known only to the fae holding him. When Virgil had relaxed enough to come back to himself, he tensed all over again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“How can you say I’m safe, when you’re gonna kill me?”

“Because I have no intentions of killing you,” Janus replied, now cradling both of Virgil’s hands to his chest. Even this close, the darkness was so impenetrably thick that Virgil had no hope of glimpsing his face. He kept his eyes averted regardless. “I brought you here to remove you from my mother’s gaze and conceal you from her misplaced wrath.”

Virgil was silent, processing, as Janus gently tugged on his hands and guided him back onto the bed. There, the fae leaned against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him and carefully pulled Virgil to recline on his chest. Virgil resisted for only a moment before complying. Everything else about this was already way out of his depth to manage, he may as well allow himself to be comfortable wherever he could. Janus was either going to kill him or leave him alive, and there likely wasn’t anything Virgil could do to sway that decision at this point. So, Virgil settled himself against Janus’ chest with his body laying between Janus’ legs and stretching out until their legs tangled together. He was grateful now for the dark that hid a probably searing blush as his cheek pressed flush against the fae’s warm skin; Janus wasn’t wearing a shirt and his nude torso was warm to cuddle against.

“Now,” Janus murmured, shifting Virgil’s focus from his embarrassment to the situation at hand. His fingers ran over Virgil’s scalp and through his hair, carefully brushing out any tangles and soothing in the same motion. “If you will let me continue, I was going to say my mother had ordered for you to be killed, however, I do not agree with her decision. She is acting rashly over a slight you did not directly commit.”

“What did I even do to piss her off so bad?” Virgil murmured from where his face was tucked against Janus’ collar, resting more of his weight closer with each breath.

“I do not know the exact details, only that you were the cause for drawing her worshippers away from the temple on her day of adulation. The fae do not take kindly to being stolen from, especially not my mother.”

“The interview,” Virgil breathed in horror. Pushing himself upright, he clutched at Janus’ arm. “I swear, I didn’t mean for everyone to skip out on the Spirit’s Festival! If it had been up to me, none of them would have even been at the cafe! I didn’t want them there, you have to believe me!”

“Calm yourself, beloved. I believe that you did not intentionally act to anger her. However, you must understand that even a perceived slight is considered very real and serious to the fae. That is why you must remain here under my protection, until my mother’s ire cools or I can convince her to redirect her anger.”

As Janus fell silent, Virgil curled in again and pondered what he had been told, trying to remember anything he could about the fae. It wasn’t like there was one consistent guidebook he could follow, but some of the stories the older people used to tell his grade school classes at the library were starting to make a little more sense now. He had been told the forest couldn’t lie, so maybe that meant the fae were bound by the truth? A stretch, sure, but weren’t all myths rooted somehow in reality? They were also regularly told that the spirits of the forest loved beauty, especially in the form of attractive people, and could bestow gifts on those they enjoyed looking upon. Virgil had always felt so disheartened hearing that. He wasn’t anything special, just a plain-looking boy, so the forest would never favour him.

Why then had Janus?

“So,” Virgil broke into the quiet, “you supposedly brought me here to protect me from your mother, but that doesn’t explain why you called me your future husband earlier.”

Janus hummed. “When I set out to observe the human who had offended my mother, I was prepared to be faced with a disgusting example of your kind. What I found instead was the most beautiful face I had ever laid eyes on.” Virgil gasped when the hand that had been in his hair slipped down to cup his cheek and tilt his chin up. He felt a pair of lips brush so lightly against his forehead that he thought he imagined it. “You were sobbing so hard for a deeply rooted pain. I found myself desiring nothing more than to stop your tears and see how much your already breathtaking countenance would shine when lit by a smile.”

“I - you -”

Virgil was sure that he had been kissed before, because now he felt those lips curl into a smile.

“Is it so hard to believe you are so attractive?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil huffed, his eyes closed as he leaned into Janus’ palm. “It’s not like I heard it all that often.”

“Mmm, I shall have to change that, then,” Janus whispered, resting his cheek on Virgil’s head, cradling him close once more. “Do you have any more questions, beloved? If not, it is time for you to rest, you’ve had a long day.”

The gentle petting and warm embrace were taking their toll on Virgil’s exhausted mind. He let himself rest heavily on Janus, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around the fae’s chest. “Jus’ one,” he murmured, voice already dipping into that sleepy slur. “Wanna make sure m’dads know ‘m safe…”

“I’ll see what I can do, my love. Rest now, Virgil.”

Like a spell had been cast over him, Virgil drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

-----

When Virgil had awoken, he was alone in the massive bed. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment in his chest, having hoped Janus would stay despite the fae not wanting to show his face. Sighing, he slid out of bed and got himself ready for the day, slipping into some comfortable clothes he found in a set of drawers. When he came down for breakfast, his host’s invisible voice greeted him and informed him that his dads had been told of the situation and were relieved Virgil was alive and relatively safe.

The next few days played out much the same. Virgil was left to his own devices during the day, waited on by some sort of invisible staff as he explored the palace. He never saw another soul, but whenever he needed something, he learned to simply call out for it and it would be delivered to him by magic.

Each night, Janus would arrive in his bedroom once the sun had disappeared. He never asked for more than Virgil was willing to give, but Virgil found himself cuddled close every night without fail. They would speak for hours - about Virgil’s dreams, his dads, and Remy - nothing was too simple for Janus to inquire about. The fae was fascinated by every aspect of human life, and Virgil enjoyed discovering a sense of romantic joy over the little things he had experienced. There was something about Janus that soothed away the ever-present worries that were always yelling inside Virgil’s head.

There was one worry that couldn’t be silenced, however. No matter how much Virgil was coming to trust his protector, he could not ignore the fact that he had no idea what Janus even looked like. It was eating away at him not to know, and the longer he sat alone, the Janus in his head looked more and more like a monster waiting to prey upon him. This couldn’t go on. He had to know.

-----

During the day before he was going to enact his plan, Virgil spent his time in the massive library he had discovered on the second day, scanning the shelves and making a show of selecting a couple books. He made himself comfortable in one of the oversized cushions piled near the floor-to-ceiling window and pretended to read. Between absently scanning the pages, Virgil looked up and glanced around the room, as if his mind were wandering with the tale he was apparently focused on. In reality, he was scouring the room for ideas.

Countless candles were lit around the library, their wax melting at different stages, some newly pooling while others formed thick layers around the base of the candelabras. They were lit now, but there was no way for him to have an already burning flame in the bedroom when Janus arrived for the night. He would have to find some way to light one on his own. Maybe he could just -

“Excuse me?” He called into the air. “Could I please have more candles, and some matches for them? I want to go read in my room, but, um, the smell is really nice in here.”

Like always, the items he requested popped into existence on a low table nearby: three candles and a pair of matches. Huh, he hadn’t actually thought that was going to work.

“Thank you!”

Hugging both books to his chest, Virgil collected his new tools and jogged up to his room. There, he placed the candles onto the small table between the armchairs and lit them with a match. The second match, he carefully tucked inside the front knot of his shirt, pressing against his breast. Now prepared, he settled in to actually focus on the novel he had picked up. There was nothing but time to kill.

-----

By the time Janus arrived, Virgil had already blown out the candles and crawled into bed. He cuddled in as soon as Janus had laid down, laying his head on the fae’s chest and trying to keep his breathing steady as they fell into their usually nighttime conversation. Janus’ claws delicately traced the bumps of his spine the entire time they spoke.

Once Virgil was sure Janus had fallen asleep, he began the slow process of extracting himself from the fae’s embrace. Janus really was a cuddler, and loved to hold Virgil close while they slept, but thankfully he was also quite a deep sleeper. Virgil was able to carefully pull himself away and tuck a pillow into Janus’ arms. The fae squished it to his chest and curled onto his side, none the wiser.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Virgil went to work. He grabbed one of the candles and fished the match out from under his shirt, striking it against the table to light it. One hand held onto the base of the candle, while the other carefully cupped around the flame, protecting it as Virgil walked around to the other side of the bed where Janus lay. With a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled his hand away and gasped at the sight in front of him.

Janus never wore a shirt, which meant Virgil’s hands had felt the broad expanse of his naked back every night they had slept together. That didn’t explain why there were now a pair of gorgeous, tawny wings sprouting from between Janus’ shoulder blades. The feathers looked softer than anything Virgil could imagine and shined like spun gold in the candlelight. Virgil ached to caress the speckled feathers, to scrunch his fingers in the fluffy down near the wings’ base, but as he reached out, Janus rolled over and Virgil’s breath was punched from his lungs. The face of his protector was carved by the gods. Janus’ skin was a rich, dark brown, reflecting the candle light to accent his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Virgil could only imagine what colour his eyes could be behind his lids, framed by perfectly shaped brows and a shapely nose. Oh! Those lips! So plump and full! What would they feel like pressed against his own?

Enraptured, Virgil tried to get a better look, but as he leaned forward, some of the melted wax from the candle spilled over and landed on Janus’ cheek. The fae yelped, startling awake and clutching at his face as he threw himself upright. Virgil jumped back in shock, falling on his ass while somehow keeping the candle lit. The clatter drew Janus’ attention and his head snapped to the side to look at Virgil, who saw the moment Janus’ eyes widened with understanding and heartbreaking betrayal.

“You promised!” Janus hissed. “You promised me you wouldn’t look! Does your word mean so little to you!?”

“N-No - I, I just, I wanted-”

“What!? What was so important that you had to break your promise?”

“I wanted to, to make sure you weren’t some sort of … monster … who had kidnapped me to… to eat me,” Virgil muttered, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish. Why did he have to give in to his anxieties so easily? The next moment, his heart crumpled with Janus’ expression.

“Get out.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said. Get. Out.” Janus growled, spreading his wings high above his head as he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Get out of my sight, and out of my home! If you cannot hold to one simple promise, then I will not protect you! You can deal with my mother’s wrath on your own!”

About to protest, Virgil cried out in fear as Janus slashed out him, narrowly missing his face with those lethal claws. He didn’t waste any more time, dropping the candle and scrambling to his feet to run out of the bedroom. The empty halls echoed with his laboured breathing and the slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor as he sprinted through the palace and out the ivy-woven doors. The moment he was out, the doors slammed shut behind him.

Panting heavily, Virgil bent over with his hands on his knees, his entire body trembling from fear and exertion. He dropped to the ground and clutched his head in both hands, curling smaller and crying as silently as he could muster. It was a long time before his breathing evened out and he was able to drag himself back to his feet.

A glance around the clearing revealed what he had known upon his first arrival: he had no idea where in the forest he was, or which way led back home. So, he did the only thing he could and picked a direction to start walking. Through the night he stumbled over roots and around tangled shrubs, not stopping until he finally tripped over his own exhausted feet and fell into the shockingly cold waters of a stream. He spluttered and gasped, miserably dragging himself back up the bank. The sun was rising overhead, the forest waking up around him; he didn’t have the time to huddle here in a ball feeling sorry for himself.

-----

As the day progressed, Virgil noticed the trees beginning to thin and the gaps between the trunks growing wider. Suddenly, the canopy overhead parted to reveal a mountain, vast and tall, that should have been visible long before this moment. Placed at irregular intervals up the cliffside were six palaces woven of different plants woven together with even more grandeur than Janus’ home. Over the edge of the mountain, the tips and edges of presumably more palaces - these ones sculpted and shaped from various stones - were visible against the pale sky.

Virgil squinted, trying to get a better look at the strangely familiar shapes carved into the rock face near each palace. He gasped. The symbols matched those carved into the statues above the bronze dishes in the Spirit’s Temple, more specifically, the dishes meant for the spirits honoured in the spring and summer. That would mean - there! On the left! Beneath a palace of myrtle trees and rose vines, was the symbol belonging to the seventh spirit. That had to be the home of Janus’ mother, the spirit - or fae, rather - who was supposed to have been honoured at the start of this month.

Biting his lip, Virgil looked back the way he came then up at the palace once more. If what Janus said was true, and he wasn’t going to be offering protection anymore, then Virgil would have to face her on his own. It was either that, or cowering away until she tracked him down and killed him. Also not a desirable option, but Virgil would rather have some form of control over the end of his life. Beginning to climb, he just wished he would have been able to say goodbye to his dads first.

While there were worn deer trails to follow, the journey was not an easy one. Virgil had to cling to the rocks, heaving himself ever upwards, trying not to slice his bare feet or palms on the uneven shale. The summer sun climbed alongside him, growing hotter and hotter, sapping his energy and strength. Still, he pushed on until he stood before the lush gates shaking with exhaustion and dizzy from the heat.

Before he could gather his wits, the thorny vines that sealed the palace from the outside world began to withdraw. Where they parted, massive sanguine roses bloomed, as if to cushion a passerby from the sharp thorns. From within the depths of the palace strode out a figure so radiant and commanding, Virgil immediately felt subservient to her will. He quickly looked away, cheeks hot, as both of her breasts were exposed and only a lightweight wrap covered her lower body. His body recoiled when her piercing laugh broke the silence.

“Finally! The wretched beast comes crawling to its master, the Lady of the Summer Court. Had enough of playing at royalty, have you? Look at me when I’m talking to you, Virgil!”

Virgil immediately snapped his head back towards her, paling when his eyes met with her seething ire, but unable to drop his gaze any lower. He gripped the sides of his pants with white knuckles. “I - I’m so, so sorry! I n-never meant-”

“Look at this!” The fae cut in, causing Virgil to flinch again. “The pathetic mortal trying to inspire pity from me with your anxiety and melancholy! I will not be made a fool and relegated to some cheap handmaiden!”

With a shriek of rage, the Lady of Summer darted forward faster than Virgil’s eyes could track. The next moment, he was sprawled on the ground, ears ringing. He brought a shaky hand up to his stinging cheek and felt his stomach drop when his fingertips came away bloody. Rolling onto his back, he choked. The Lady was looming over him, one of her hands dripping with his blood as she pinned him down with a foot on his chest.

“It seems only fair to me, mortal, that I give you some chance to win back my good graces. Therefore, you shall complete a task for me, or else I will take your life as compensation for your disrespect.” The Lady of Summer announced with a wave of her hand. Virgil looked to the side, wincing as the cuts in his cheek dug into the gravel, and watched in surprise as a pile of mixed grains appeared nearby.

“You will sort this mass and disarray of seeds - wheat, barley, millet, poppy, chickpea, and lentil - into individual piles. I will know if a single grain lays with the wrong group. You have until this evening.” With that, the Lady of Summer kicked off his ribs and spun her skirts, vanishing into thin air with a flourish and leaving only the heady scent of roses as a sign of her presence.

Virgil lay on the ground in silence for a long time after she disappeared, barely daring to breathe. When he was finally able to bring himself to move, he slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, hissing at the pain in his ribs - definitely bruised. Crawling over to the pile of seeds, he reached a hand out but hesitated before he could touch the tiny grains. How the fuck was he supposed to sort these? He could hardly begin to tell them apart! Sitting back on his ass, Virgil dropped his face into his hands and burst into tears.

Then, he heard a high-pitched giggle.

Flitting to-and-fro above him were four - five - eight, no - seven? Seven little pixies were spinning, twirling, dancing through the air above him. Their bright, insect-like wings caught the sunlight and sent out flashes of colour like a rainbow in motion. One-by-one they drifted to the ground, settling in a half circle in front of Virgil and his miserable collection of seeds. They stood only several inches tall and were dressed in leaves and petals. A pair stepped forward in front of the rest; they were holding hands.

“Hello, hello!” The one on the right chirped, waving up with his free hand. He had gorgeous light blue butterfly wings that fluttered when he spoke. “We heard you crying and came to see, to see! What happened here, here?”

Virgil sniffled, wiping away his tears and snot on his sleeve. “Well, um,” he hiccupped and took a deep breath. “It’s the Lady of the Summer Court. She wants me to sort all of these seeds by type before tonight, but I have no idea how I’m going to do that so she’s definitely going to kill me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, tears running down his face.

“Easy now,” a new voice murmured as two little hands pressed against his knee. Virgil blinked his eyes open to see the second pixie - this one with veiny wings like a beetle’s - rubbing his leg soothingly. “You need to take slow, deep breaths to calm yourself.”

Virgil nodded and attempted to follow suit, counting to four on each inhale and exhale until the tears had slowed and he was able to relax somewhat to continue the conversation. “Th-thank you, um, what are your names?”

“You can call me Pat, Pat!” The first pixie announced twirling himself up into the air and drifting back down again.

“Ah, so you are quite new around here,” the second pixie mused, keeping his hands on Virgil’s leg. “You may call me Lo. Names have great power to the fae and it is imperative that you do not give yours away lightly, else someone may have complete control over your will.”

“But the Lady of the Summer Court already knows my name, and so did Jan- her son.”

“At any point did you give it to them, though?”

Virgil thought back over the last few weeks. “No… no, they both just, sorta, knew it somehow. Oh, uh, I guess you can call me Vee, then?”

Lo nodded. “Then it is likely they only heard your name somewhere, but they do not own it. Do you understand? They can exert some measure of power over you, but they cannot remove your free will entirely. Now then. Why is it the Lady wants you dead?” The pixie offered a small smile, nodding his head as Virgil explained how he got into this situation, that he knew Janus (though he referred to him as Jay), and why he wasn’t with the other fae anymore. When he finished, it was Pat who puffed up angrily.

“The Lady has gone too far, too far! You didn’t mean to make those people leave, leave! And it sounds like you didn’t actually make a binding promise, so Jay is acting a bit silly, bit silly. So, we’re gonna help you sort these seeds, and get everything cleared up, up!”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Pat, you stay here with the others to aid Vee. I am going to go have a word with our feathered friend.” With that, Lo leaned in, kissed Pat’s cheek, and flew off down the mountainside.

Virgil watched the glint of Lo’s wings until he was out of sight, then turned back to the remaining pixies to watch as their quick, tiny hands got to work on the grains. “So… how do you know Jay?

Pat grinned widely up at him. “Jay is one of the Princes of Spring, Spring!” He works with love magic, and helped Lo and I get together decades ago in exchange for our help weaving that pretty gate in front of his palace, his palace!”

While they continued to converse, the pixies worked away at the seeds to form six unique piles, sorted from darkest to lightest. Before long, the entire jumbled mass had been reorganized without a single seed out of place. Once their job was complete, the five other pixies twittered their goodbyes and flew off up the mountain. Only Pat remained, sitting on his knee and chattering away as the sun set. Virgil shivered as a chill breeze licked at his exposed skin.

A sudden snap rent the night air, spooking Virgil, who lurched forward to cradle Pat in his hands protectively. Looking over his shoulder, he felt like vomiting when he saw the Lady of Summer standing over the grain piles with her arms crossed. He internally thanked any of the spirits who may be on his side that her chest was covered this time.

“This is not your work,” she hissed. “These were not organized by your hand, but by his!” She pointed an accusing finger at Pat, who had been peeking around Virgil’s arm but quickly hid back against his chest at the attention. “How dare you attempt to deceive me, you cretin!”

With a wordless shriek, the Lady lashed out with her vicious claws, aiming for the unmarked side of Virgil’s face. He scrambled back on his hands and heels, his ass dragging on the ground while Pat clung to the front of his shirt. Before she could take a second swipe, however, the dust and grit kicked up around them, obscuring their vision.

With his eyes covered, Virgil could only hear the flapping of large wings that cut off before there was the thud of a body dropping in front of him. Opening his eyes, he gasped. There, with his back to Virgil, stood Janus, with his great wings spread wide and his claws flexed at his sides. Lo, who had been holding onto the fae’s shoulder, now zipped down to the pair on the ground, holding Pat close and ensuring he was unharmed while the pixies huddled together on Virgil’s lap.

“You will not lay another hand on him,” Janus hissed, standing over Virgil protectively. Virgil felt Pat grip his thumb, but he couldn’t look away from the pair above them.

“What are you doing? Get out of the way, my son.”

“No. You wanted your revenge on him, and you got it. Look at him; he’s terrified, injured, and exhausted. The original disrespect against you was not even intentionally caused by him; it was the doing of numerous others. I do not fault you for your affront, but you are carrying on like a tantruming toddler!”

The Lady of Summer took a step back and clutched at her bosom. “You dare to speak to me like that?”

“I do, and so does the rest of the Seelie Court.” Virgil watched as Janus rolled his shoulders back and stood straighter. The Prince of Spring then reached into a bag tied at his hip and pulled out some sort of wooden charm dangling from a hemp rope. At the sight of it the Lady of Summer gasped and covered her mouth. “I have spoken before the Queen and her retinue, and she has decreed you will leave this mortal alone. In exchange, he will return to his town and gather a proper celebration for you by the end of this month.”

Virgil held his breath, not daring to twitch a muscle as he awaited his fate. The Lady of Summer let nothing show in her expression, but the hard lines of her face had softened attractively as Janus spoke. She shifted, looking over Janus shoulder and directly at Virgil. “You. You will do as this deal demands?”

Nodding rapidly, Virgil held up his hand in oath. “I will, I promise. I’ll go back home and speak with the curator of the Spirit’s Temple. We’ll host another festival and you’ll get the offerings you were supposed to be given at the start of the month.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the Lady of the Summer Court beamed a smile and grasped her hands over her heart. “Well then! That wasn’t so hard, was it! My dear, smart son, finding a way to set things right. I’m so proud of you, my little songbird.” Looking at her son, she cooed and cupped Janus’ cheek to tilt him up to kiss his forehead, smiling at his grumbling. “I won’t linger much longer, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of my future son-in-law after all! I’ll see you soon, Virgil, dear,” she called, a cool edge to her voice for a moment before she smiled brightly once more and waggled her fingers. With a dramatic wave of her hands, the Lady of Summer vanished once more.

A quiet settled over the remaining quartet, broken by a tinny clearing of a throat. Lo stood in Virgil’s lap, tugging Pat up next to him. “I believe it is time for us to depart as well. I am relieved we were able to arrive in time to prevent any harm coming to you, Vee.” The pixie looked from Janus to Virgil and smiled. “Let us know when you are in the woods, we would enjoy visiting under more ideal circumstances. Farewell, for now.”

“Goodbye, Vee, Vee!”

In a flash, the pair of pixies flew off into the night, their hands held tight together. They flew loops and circles over the others before darting off in the direction the other pixies had traveled hours ago.

On the ground, Janus helped Virgil to his feet. He cooed in sympathy, tenderly touching the tips of his fingers beneath the angry red cuts on Virgil’s cheek. “I am so sorry for what she has done to you, darling. And I am even more sorry that my own actions drove you from the safety of my side. I was meant to protect you from unearned rage, but instead I subjected you to further punishment and drove you towards your would-be killer. If I hadn’t gotten here in time-” Janus exhaled heavily, his wings sagging behind him. “I am so sorry, Virgil.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because none of this has been okay, but, I guess I can understand where you were coming from. If I were as attractive as you, I’d also be worried about people taking advantage of me.” Virgil blushed and dragged his big toe through the dirt. “So, yeah, I forgive you, or whatever.” He looked up with a fire in his eyes and jabbed his finger into the center of Janus’ chest. “But don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

Janus hands cupped around his own, cradling it close. “I swear, to the end of my days, I will treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve, my dearest.”

Despite the tenderness of the gesture, Virgil was unmoved. “I mean it, Janus. If you want us to work out, then I can’t be afraid that you’re going to banish me from your home every time you get upset. It’s not a relationship if you’re going to treat me like I’m disposable. I’m worth more than that. If you want more reassurance, or something, on my promises, then we can work something out, but what you put me through was terrifying, and I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”

Janus sighed, holding Virgil’s hands up to his lips and resting there a moment before slowly gathering Virgil into his arms. His embrace was loose enough to break, if Virgil wanted. “I understand, darling, and I will never be able to apologize enough for what I have done. However, it is not my words you want, but my actions, and I will do whatever you desire of me in order to make it up to you.” He cupped Virgil’s uninjured cheek. “I want us to work, too.”

There was a long pause as Virgil searched Janus’ golden eyes for any signs of deception. When he found only an earnest honesty, Virgil allowed himself to be held closer. He wasn’t sure which of them moved next, but they came together as one, lips pressing softly at first before quickly gaining heat. Then he was spun and dipped down, laughing hard as he clung to Janus’ shoulders, the fae’s wings held aloft to keep them balanced.

Maybe ‘future husband’ didn’t sound so bad after all.

[arrow-guy]

Spill Your Guts

Summary: You’re used to working in the shadows. You’re happy with that. But when you unexpectedly meet Steve Rogers on a roof one night, something changes. What happens when you run into him out of costume two months later at one of Stark’s infamous parties?

A/N: A One Night Stand type story came to me one night, and this was it. BUT, considering I’m incapable of writing that kind of content, this is what really came from that idea. I think it’s kind of fun, and I hope you guys will enjoy it!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong​

Pairing; StevexReader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: None

“It can’t be as serious as you’re making it out to be.”

“Matt, I swear on your stupid little glasses, it’s serious. He caught me on the roof after you abandoned me two months ago and then cornered me at that fucking Stark soiree you dragged me to last week. Something is going on, and I don’t think that I’m cut out for this shit!”

“Okay, but how do you even know he knew it was you?” Matt asks. “It’s not like he saw your face on that roof.”

“Have you never gone through any of their files? Rogers has a damn near eidetic memory and super hearing. You think he wouldn’t recognize my dumb voice?!”

"Your voice isn't dumb."

“Were you listening when I was talking to him?”

“Well… no, I wasn’t.”

“Then you don’t know that it wasn’t dumb when I was talking to him.”

“Since when are you all worked up over an Avenger?” Matt asks. His mouth quirks up in an amused smile. “Three months ago, you couldn’t care less about them.”

"Because it's Rogers," I hiss. "I know you can't physically see him, but the man is gorgeous."

"And?"

"And I'm still trying to figure out what the hell he was doing talking to me, of all people." Matt stops in the middle of the sidewalk and I turn back and stare at him. “What?”

He carefully navigates to the bench near the brownstone we just passed and sits down. “Sit.”

“Okay.” I plop down beside him. “Why?”

“You’re gonna tell me exactly what happened that first night.”

“On the roof?”

“Yes.”

“You already know what happened on the roof.”

“You’re being weird about this, so clearly there’s something you didn’t tell me.”

I drum my fingers against my lips and sigh. “Okay, well, you heard something I didn’t that night, abandoned me on the roof, and then…”

“Huh.” I freeze at the sound of a familiar voice. “Could’ve sworn I heard two voices.”

“That’s because you did. My, eh… colleague just abandoned me.”

“Colleague?” I can’t read his expression through his helmet, but he sounds amused.

“Yeah, I think he heard you bounding across rooftops and decided to be anywhere but here.”

“And yet you’re still here.”

“He has better ears than I do.”

Rogers tilts his head to the side. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” I snort in my attempt to keep from laughing. “I’m the eyes of the operation.”

“Judging by the way your shoulders are shaking, there’s a joke here that I’m not getting.”

“You ever met the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, Captain Rogers?” I ask.

“Can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure.”

“Yeah, well… keep up with these little midnight patrols, and you’re bound to bump into him.” I look him over, knowing full well that he can’t see me through the veil over my hood. “You seem like an observant guy. I’m sure you’ll get the joke eventually.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhm, really.”

He hooks his thumbs around his belt buckle. “So your colleague is Daredevil. What do they call you?”

“Eagle Eye,” I answer.

He tilts his head to the side. “Eagle Eye?”

“Well, you see, as apt as it would’ve been, Hawkeye was taken.” I lift one hand to the side of my face and, in a conspiratorial tone, say, “And by someone much cooler than me, might I add.”

Rogers laughs and I smile. “So what’s your deal then?”

“My deal?” I shrug and shake my head. “I have no deal.”

“But you hide your face.”

“I hide my everything, Captain. It’s part of my schtick.”

“Sounds like you’re hiding something.”

I snort. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well… yes. That’s the point of highlighting something obvious.”

“I see. Well,” I move across the rooftop towards where Matt disappeared earlier. “This has been a real gas, but I’ve got places to be.”

I jump over the side and just barely manage to catch myself on the edge of the building when I hear him call out to me. I haul myself up enough to see him quickly drawing closer.

“Wait!” he says.

“What?”

“I have more questions I’d like to ask you.”

“I’m afraid I’m booked solid tonight, Captain. I’ll have to slot you in some other time.”

“But-”

I mockingly salute him and drop down to the alley below. “Catch ya later.”

I don’t wait for his response and disappear into the shadows as fast as I can manage.

“After that, I didn’t run into him,” I say. “It didn’t seem like he tried to follow me, and he was never close enough to put a tracker or whatever on me. As far as I know, there was nothing left to worry about.”

“Honestly, (Y/N), it sounds like you made yourself a mystery.”

“I did not.”

“Someone who covers their entire face and answers anything with more questions? You literally turned yourself into a walking puzzle.”

“Well how the hell was I supposed to talk to Captain America? With a “Yes sir, here’s my face, sir. Have a nice night, sir”? Absolutely not. He’s old, but he barely looks older than we are.”

“That doesn’t mean the man doesn’t deserve at least a little respect.”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t! And I wasn’t disrespectful towards him. I just wasn’t playing his game.”

“Because you didn’t have a buffer.”

“You abandoned me!”

“I didn’t abandon you. I just didn’t stick around when I heard trouble coming.”

“You’re an asshole, Matt Murdock.” I shake my finger at him. “Not many people would have the brass to tell you that, but I’m not scared of you and I don’t feel sorry for you.”

He just laughs. “Good. But that makes you and about five other people in this city.”

“Does it ever get old?” I ask. “Hearing the pity in people’s voices?”

“Well, yeah, but there’s relief too, sometimes. Like when they realize that I’m blind, they don’t have to worry about what they look like for once.”

I hum. “That makes sense. Especially in our little corner of the city.”

“Mhm.”

I jerk my thumb up the street. “Can we get going again?”

“Only if you tell me what happened at the party on the way to the café.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again.” I haul myself up from the bench before I offer Matt a hand and pull him to his feet. “Because now I feel like either I missed something when you first told me about it, or you did a terrible job of explaining yourself.”

“You’re forgetting the third option in which both of those could’ve verywell happened.”

“Could be. Anyway,” he bumps my arm with his elbow. “Start from the beginning.”

“Okay, well,” I offer him my elbow and he takes it and allows me to lead him down the sidewalk. “You dragged me with you to that party because you wanted to pass someone off as your guide, but I’m still convinced that you just wanted to force me to be social.”

“You need it sometimes, (Y/N).”

“Debatable. Regardless, you wandered off to talk to someone and I didn’t know anyone and didn’t know what to do with myself, so…”

Without Matt close to me, I quickly get overwhelmed by the steadily growing volume of the party and it feels like the large room is slowly growing more crowded. I spot someone returning to the party from one of the balconies and I immediately cross the room, slip through, the door, and out into the cool night air.

I lean heavily on the railing, eyes squeezed shut, and take deep, calming breaths. My panic drains away with each passing minute and, when I’m calm enough, I look out across the city and admire the view.

“It’s beautiful out tonight.”

I stand stock still. I know that voice.

I glance over my shoulder and find Captain Rogers standing in the doorway, staring up at the sky. His cheeks are rosy and he wears an easy smile.

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “I guess it is.”

He chuckles. “Sorry, I probably startled you, huh?”

I shrug. “A little, but you walk softly. There’s no way I would’ve heard you over the wind.”

“Mm, probably.” He moves to stand beside me and regards me silently. “Have we met before?”

I shake my head. “Can’t say that we have. Parties aren’t really my scene.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “Parties like these are especially overwhelming.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He sighs and leans on the railing. “Tony’s parties can get pretty out of hand.”

“I could definitely see that happening, with all the people who showed up tonight.”

“Sometimes Thor will bring Asgardian mead with him.”

“Oh?”

He flashes me a grin. “Yeah, things can get interesting after that. It’s nice to actually loosen up.”

“Is it safe to assume that’s what happened tonight?”

He shoots me a grin. “What makes you say that?”

“You seem like the kind of guy who would stick with either his friends or his colleagues at this kind of shindig. Considering I’m neither of those things,” I shrug. “I guess there’s one conclusion to draw.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.” I offer my hand and he shakes it.

“Oh, you came with, uh…” he snaps his fingers a few times, trying to recall the name. “Murdock, right?”

I nod. “Matt, yeah.”

“I think he’s a lawyer?”

“Mhm. Good one, too.”

“Well he’d have to be, working with us.”

“Wait, he’s worked for you guys?”

“A few cases, yeah.”

I shake my head. “Figures that’s how he’d get invited to a party like this.”

“Like what?”

“Funded by Tony Stark. Attended by the Avengers and just about every powerful person who could pass the background check.”

He smiles lopsidedly. “You think everyone here got screened?”

“Well, you knew who I came with, for starters. And I figure you guys throw these things to let loose, right? There’s no way you’d let a threat walk through the door on your night off. It’d kill the mood.”

“You’ve really thought this though, huh?”

I laugh. “I guess I kind of have.”

“You do that a lot?”

“What?”

“Overthink?”

“I… ” I frown. “Yeah, probably. Kind of a force of habit.”

He just nods and falls silent. He looks more relaxed than he did on the roof the first time we met. He gives no indication that he recognizes me, but I can’t just assume that he hasn’t figured it out, even if he truly is tipsy.

After about five minutes, he starts pointing out things around the tower that were different when he was a kid. The places he and his best friend would loiter. Which bodegas would let them take a candybar every once in a while as a reward for good grades. I rest my chin on my fist and listen intently as he explains. He winds up going off on a tangent about how different he thought the future would be.

“Lemme guess, you thought there’d be flying cars?”

“Yeah, actually,” he says. “I did. You should’ve seen the one Stark presented at the World’s Fair in forty-three.”

“As soon as time travel is a thing, I’ll have to go check it out.”

He laughs. “You know what I mean. The thing damn near blew up, but it hovered for a good ten seconds before it gave out.”

“Sounds like it would’ve been pretty impressive for the time.”

“It was! Buck was so excited about it.” He sighs and shakes his head. “He always liked stuff like that.”

“Sounds like you two were close,” I murmur.

“Yeah. We’re working back to it, but after everything that’s happened over the years, it’s gonna take a while.”

“If you’re both willing to put in the time, it’ll be worth the wait, won’t it?”

“I-yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“If what I’ve heard about the situation is true, and I haven't heard much, then you remember him as he was. And, not that I’m any kind of expert on this or saying that you should take my advice, but it’s hard to live up to an image that someone has of you when you know damn well you haven’t been that person for a long time.” He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and sighs. “Sorry, that was a little much. We don’t even know each other.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I hadn’t thought of it like that before.”

“Oh. Then you’re welcome? Maybe?”

“No, I definitely appreciate your perspective. Thank you.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pick it up immediately. I frown and Rogers shifts closer.

I open the text and frown. “Huh.”

“What is it?”

“It looks like Matt’s trying to find me.” I type out a quick response and turn the screen off. “I'm so sorry, I’m being called away.”

“No, I understand, you don’t need to apologize at all.”

“It’s been really nice talking with you.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. “You too.”

“Well…” I shove my phone into my pocket and back towards the door. “Have a nice night, Captain.”

“You too.” I smile at him and pull the door open. “Oh, (Y/N).”

I pause and look back at him. “Yes?”

“I…” His smile softens. “Call me Steve.”

“A-alright.” I glance into the tower and then to him. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight.”

“Then I left to find you and we went home.”

Matt steps through the door I hold open for him. “Well you definitely didn’t tell me what you’d talked to him about.”

“I did so!”

“You didn’t go into detail like you did just now. I didn’t know you gave him advice on his brainwashed best friend. That puts this in a completely different category.”

“Which is?”

“I think you’re kind of friends with him.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It sounds like he was comfortable around you.”

“You’d know better than I would.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. You could have worse friends than Steve Rogers.”

Someone behind us says, “Well, I’d certainly like to think so.”

I grip Matt’s arm and he winces. I murmur, “Is that-?”

Matt nods. “Yup.”

“Ah. Well.”

Matt turns us around and greets him first. “Captain Rogers, it’s good to see you.”

“You too, Mr. Murdock.” He glances at me, then back to Matt. “Could I speak with (Y/N) for a moment?”

Matt nods. “Of course.”

“Go ahead and order without me,” I murmur.

He nods and turns back to the counter. I gesture for Steve to follow me to a table at the back of the café. We sit and stare at each other for a few minutes before I can't take it anymore and break the silence.

“So, um…” I chew at the inside of my cheek. “Hey.”

“Hi.” His eyes flit over my face. “How are you?”

“I’m alright.” I frown. “What’re you doing here?”

“You never called or texted. Did I do something wrong?”

“I… Steve, I don’t have your number.”

“I gave it to you last Saturday,” he says.

I think back to that night and shake my head. “You definitely didn’t.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn I did, just before you left.”

“You paused like you were gonna say something big, but then you asked me to call you Steve.” I hold my hands out in defense. “Not that you asking me to use your legal name isn’t a big deal, or anything, there just wasn’t any mention of phone numbers.”

His cheeks flush pink. “Then I apologize. I should’ve just asked instead of tracking you down like this.”

“Honestly, I’m just surprised that it was important enough to you to find me in the first place.”

“Why?”

“I’m a nobody who got lucky enough to be on that balcony at the same time as you. Even luckier that you even talked to me that night.”

“You’re not nobody, and you didn’t get lucky.”

“Wh-explain.”

“I saw you with Matt at the party and your build and the way you carried yourself seemed really familiar. So I watched you for a bit-” he notices my discomfort and backtracks. “I wasn’t stalking you or anything-”

I lift one eyebrow. “But you followed me out onto the balcony?”

“Yes.” He sighs and scrubs his hand over his face. “I wish I could blame the alcohol, but I was only slightly tipsy.”

“Just enough to be relaxed,” I say.

Steve nods. “What I’m trying to say is that I know you’re Eagle Eye.”

I grip the edge of the table. “What?”

“I wasn’t sure until I actually talked to you, and even then I figured I was just seeing what I wanted to.”

“What convinced you that you were right?”

“Your reaction just now.”

“Makes sense.”

“So I’m right?”

I nod. “Well, I never did have a good poker face.”

“Is that why you cover your face?”

“Among other things.” I lean back in my chair. “Did you figure out my little joke?”

He laughs. “About a week after we first met, yeah.”

“That true?” I ask. I look over Steve’s shoulder and see Matt nod. “Good for you, then.”

“How long have you known Mr. Murdock?” Steve asks.

I shrug. “Going on, maybe… seven or eight years now? We started working together about four years ago.”

“Which work?”

“Corporate type work. We started our nightly routine a year after.” I gesture to the counter. “Do you want anything? I’m kind of starving.”

“Uh, sure. Anything you’d recommend?”

“Their croissant sandwiches are pretty good. I usually just go with ham and cheese.”

“Then I’ll trust your judgment on that.”

I shove myself up from the table. “You want anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water?”

“I feel kind of bad giving you an order like this,” he admits.

“Don’t, I offered.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. Now,” I gesture dramatically. “Drink?”

He chuckles. “Just water, thanks.”

Jo greets me when I step up to the counter. She seems a little nervous, and I can’t really blame her.

She slides the sandwiches across the counter and asks, “Is that Captain America?”

I nod. “It is.”

“I thought you didn’t run with guys like that.”

“I don’t, usually, but Matt worked a couple of cases for the Avengers a while back and I got dragged along to a party with him because of it.” I tuck the sandwiches under my arm and grab the water and the cup of tea I ordered. “Now we’re here.”

She glances back at Steve. “Just make sure all my furniture is intact when you leave today. Replacing single chairs every few months isn’t cheap.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen, Jo.” I blow across the surface of my tea, dispersing the steam. “It’s a friendly visit, and I intend to make sure it stays that way.”

“Good.” She pauses, slow smile creeping onto his features. “He’s pretty handsome, (Y/N).”

I roll my eyes, but can’t help smiling. “I’m doing my best to not think about that right now.”

“Is he at least nice?” she asks. “I always thought he looked like he’d be a nice guy.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “He’s pretty nice.”

She grins. “At least there’s that.”

I head back to the table and pass Matt along the way. I tell him to head back to the office without me when he’s done and that I’d meet up with him later. He just nods and takes another bite of his sandwich.

I place Steve’s sandwich and water on the table in front of him before taking my seat. I immediately tear open a packet of sweetener and pour it into my tea. When It’s stirred in, I take a sip and lean back in my seat.

“I’m sure you have questions,” I say. “And I figure it’s only fair that I answer them, considering you spilled your guts to me at that party.”

“I did what?”

“You rambled about what New York was like when you were a kid.” I rest my chin in my hand and smile at the blush that creeps across his face. “It was cute.”

He focuses his gaze on the sandwich and starts to unfold the paper. He mumbles, “Well that’s kind of embarrassing.”

“I don’t think finding joy in your childhood is embarrassing. I think it’s a sign of a good childhood.”

“It wasn’t all good,” he says. “But I had good people around me.”

“And it sounds like you were happy.”

“Most of the time, I was. But that’s how it is for most kids, right?”

I shrug. “I guess.”

He picks up half his sandwich and, before he takes a bite, asks, “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, what was your childhood like?”

“It was fine. My parents were pretty strict about grades, but they just wanted me to succeed. When they found out about my abilities, they tried to capitalize on it a bit, but didn’t really push when I got bored.”

“Abilities?”

“Oh, right. I’m called Eagle Eye because of my enhancements. I’m like a low-level version of you. Enhanced strength, hearing, healing, speed, all that, to a slightly lesser degree. But the big thing is my eyesight.”

“So when you said you’re the eyes of the operation-”

“I meant it. My parents used it to their advantage when they started taking me to the range and putting me in shooting competitions.”

“Oh?”

“Everyone on my mom’s side is a fuckin gun nut. I’m not a huge fan of them, to be honest.”

“What’s your weapon of choice, then?”

“I’d prefer a bow and fistful of arrows to a gun any day.” I grin. “But I think knives are pretty fun. More versatile than a gun, and definitely more of a challenge. Playing cards will do, in a pinch.”

He laughs. “That’s kind of terrifying.”

“I know. At this point I use a beanbag gun and a few throwing knives, but that’s about all I carry.”

As I take a bite of my sandwich, he asks, “So what is it that you do?”

“Well, I started out as a bounty hunter.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m a bounty hunter and a masked vigilante.”

“When you say bounty hunter-”

“I mean someone who tracks down people evading arrest. I don’t hunt and kill people. Besides, Matt wouldn’t let me, even if I tried. Terminally good Catholic boy, and all that.”

“Mm, yeah I could see that.”

We talk as we eat. Steve asks more questions about my abilities and how I got them. I don’t have answers for him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. The conversation eventually turns to mundane things like art, literature, and sports. I don’t have strong opinions on New York baseball, but listening to Steve get worked up over it is entertaining. I find myself smiling more than I have in a very long time.

“You are so much more interesting than you let on, (Y/N).”

I roll my eyes and crush up the sandwich wrapper. “You’re just saying that because I threw out all three of my fun facts one after the other.”

“No, I’m not. I didn’t try to find you because I wanted an answer. I had a feeling about you when we talked at the party.”

“Oh, a feeling?” I laugh. “Sounds scary.”

“Is it?” he asks. “Because I don’t think it’s been this easy for me to talk to someone outside of my team for a very, very long time.”

“Pure exaggeration.”

“It really isn’t. A lot of people would’ve jumped at the chance to try and use this situation to their advantage. But I’ve been watching you try to talk yourself out of the possibility of there being something here.”

I clutch my tea between my hands and frown. I refuse to get my hopes up. “Something?”

“Some kind of connection,” he says.

“I’m gonna need you to paint me a really detailed picture here, because I don’t want to misinterpret what you’re saying.”

“(Y/N), I think that you’re interesting and intelligent and, uh…” he coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck. “I think you’re attractive.”

“Oh,” I murmur, my voice suddenly very small.

“If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine, but I’d hate to just let this go, even if it’s just friendship.”

“It’s not that I don’t feel some kind of attraction to you, Steve. I’m just… I really am nobody.”

“Well I don’t think Matt thinks so. I’m sure the people that you help don’t think that. And I certainly don’t think so.”

“Even so-”

“You don’t have to make headlines for me to like you, okay?” His brows pull together and he reaches across the table and takes my hand. “I just want to be able to spend more time with you. Get to know you better. I don’t want to push you for anything you don’t want, especially considering we haven’t known each other all that long.”

I squeeze his hand. “Okay.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah?”

I smile and nod. “I’ll warn you, though. I move really slow with this kind of stuff.”

“So do I. But…” He runs his thumb over my knuckles and I relax just a little. “That just means I have ample time to get to know you. And that’s been the best part of this so far, anyway.”

“I’ll make no promises about showing up to Stark’s parties. But…” I cover the back of his hand with mine. “I have a few more questions about you.”

He grins. “Ask me anything, sweetheart.”

I don’t really know whether or not they’d be a long term thing in the end. Like as sweet as I think it’d be, all I can really think about are the shenanigans she and Clint would get up to when they’re introduced. I mean, two master marksmen in the same room? It just screams trouble.

I’d love to hear what y’all thought about this onshot! Do you think that Steve and the reader character make a sweet couple? Do you think they’d make it work? Or do you think they’d wind up just being friends in the end? Be sure to like, reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an and and tell me all about it!

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