#and there really wasn't any other way this could have gone

[rohirric-hunter]

I had always assumed that Father Christmas was an interdimensional entity, IE he was the same person as the Father Christmas from our world. He just also goes to any and all other worlds where Christmas is celebrated.

I don't have a copy of the book to hand so I can't really examine the text for a reason why I assumed this. Perhaps just the above-explored lack of a reason for Narnia to have its own separate version, or maybe little kid confusion about the difference between the country of Narnia and the world it exists in, also sometimes colloquially referred to as Narnia.

Also re: Jadis' jacked up border patrol: we kind of do literally see this with Tumnus trapping Lucy. Clearly the Witch had a lot of people on her payroll who responded to the presence of humans by attempting to trap or kill them -- there was likely a massive bounty for any captured or dead human and enough people desperate enough to cash in on it, so lone humans or small groups would never have made it very far. As to the possibility of Archenland invading and driving Jadis out by force, well, first of all we don’t know that it was never tried, but I imagine that if it was it was tried earlier during the hundred years of winter, rather than later, and most likely wasn't successful. We see in The Horse and His Boy that Archenland's military, while probably effective enough for the defense of their own in most cases, is pretty basic and seems to have little to no magic support. Certainly not the sort of military that would be able to make any meaningful headway against the Witch and all her magical minions and ability to turn people to stone. And without Aslan to rallh around they couldn't depend on enough help from the native Narnians to make a difference, not to speak of Aslan's ability to restore people who had been turned to stone, a group which probably encompassed the vast majority of Narnians willing and able to fight back against Jadis.

(Also circling back around to the Father Christmas thing I also headcanoned as a kid that the way Jadis kept it always winter was a sort of time-freezing spell. IE instead of just making it always snow, she was freezing time itself during the winter. It's always winter but it never gets to be Christmas because it was just. Always the same miserable cold day after the start of winter but before Christmas. And Father Christmas couldn't get in because it wasn't the proper time. My reason for headcanoning this was specifically because of all the plants that would have gone extinct in Narnia during a hundred year winter. Hibernation is amazing but it don't work miracles. But, if from the plants' point of view it was only one winter, well that makes a lot more sense. However this could also be explained by Aslan's proximity, given that he does also just kind of summon plants from nothing during Magician's Nephew. Or even, just, like, the existence of dryads. IDK.)

narnia has actually way too many completely devastating concepts in it that are not explored At All

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

𝓛𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader (past)

Summary: After last years incident you don't know if you can move on, but Wanda shows you how real love feels.

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Nat cheats

AU: Pietro is alive :D

Author's note: Merry Christmas! I wasn't planning on making another fic for Christmas, but I was listening to Christmas music while wrapping and well here you go~

Snow was gently falling in New York making everything feel more magical. All the decor was up, the tree fully lit at the Rockefeller center and people were bustling more than usual to get their Christmas shopping done. 

You were trying to pick a gift out for your secret Santa, Wanda. Tony did this every year for his holiday party. You really weren't in the mood for it this year, but you were trying…after last Christmas things didn't feel as magical. 

Last Year

“Come on Tasha! We're gonna be late if you take any longer on your make-up!” You playfully called out. She smirked at you through the mirror. 

“Don't worry Detka, we'll make it.” Her sultry voice wrapped around you. You looked her over as she stood; a tight short black dress, tights, heels to match. Her hair was pulled into a fancy braid she'd mentioned the name of earlier, but you couldn't remember it. 

The party was in full swing by the time you two arrived. You were in fact upset about it because Natasha knows how you hate to be late because of your anxiety. As soon as you set your gift on the table for secret Santa Natasha was gone in the crowd. Interacting with the boys and Maria. You frowned, but went to grab some finger foods and a drink while you found the twins and Vision. The three of them are talking about experiencing Christmas for the first time. 

You sat yourself next to Wanda with the boys across the table on another couch. The four of you talking for a bit before you realized Natasha hadn't come to find you. 

A pout covered your mouth as you got up, “I'll be back guys I'm gonna go check on Tasha.” You excused yourself making your way through the crowd of people, looking everywhere until in the corner of your eye, her dress caught your eye. Your head turning and the glass in your hand falling with a sharp crash to the tiled floor. 

Natasha was kissing Maria. 

You were noticed by many including Natasha who looked like she had regret on her face. Not for the kiss itself, but because she was caught. 

You walked out of that party and didn't look back. 

Present Day

You got yourself ready, looking over yourself in the mirror and then at the clock. You'd be a little early which was perfect. You grabbed your gift for Wanda. It was perfect for her. It was a few different things. 

Tony never had limits on how much to spend. If you got him as your secret Santa you could expect a car or a new place to live.

You got there, hugging Tony with a smile. “I'm surprised you decided to actually come. You even have your gift!” Tony said surprised. You gave him a roll of your eyes. 

“Yeah I wasn't sure if I'd come at first after last year I felt sick thinking about it and about seeing her. I gave her my heart Tony…she gave it away. I decided if I did come this year then…I'd give it to someone special…” you explained to him. Tony was like your annoying older brother. You told him a lot of your problems and he was happy to listen. 

He gave you another hug, a nice tight one where you could smell his cologne clearly, making your nose scrunch up a bit.

“Go get her.” He whispered before letting go. 

It was hours into the party. You'd spent the whole time with the twins. Vision had gone off to talk with Tony at some point and now it was time for secret Santa. You got up, grabbing your gift to Wanda and you were surprised to see she had you as well.

The two of you laughed, deciding to go find her old room in the tower so you two could have a quiet moment to open each other's gifts. 

You both sat across from each other, she was cross legged in her usual black skirt and thigh highs, a low cut tank top and a dark gray cardigan fell off one shoulder that she kept fixing. Rings adorned all her fingers, some having multiple. You smiled as you gave her your gift. 

“Open yours first Wands.” You insisted, making her giggle which had your stomach doing flips. Biting the inside of your cheek to try to hide the effect the witch had on you. 

She opened up the bag that contained a few wrapped gifts. 

“You didn't have to get me so much.” She said with her honeyed accent. 

“I couldn't decide…they all felt like they were perfect for you.” You saw the barely There blush that covered her cheeks as she refused to look up from unwrapping. 

You'd gotten her a new mug that said village witch with a little graphic of a witches hut, the smoke coming out of it a ghost. The next gift was a variety pack of different teas from around the world. The last gift you'd gotten her was a new set of tarot cards. 

“Oh y/n! These are amazing and I love them! I can't wait to try the teas and you're getting the first reading with this tarot deck.” She said, leaning forward to hug you tight. “Now it's your turn!” She squealed excitedly. 

You smiled, taking the gift from her, opening it up, your jaw dropped. You just stared for a minute, speechless before looking up at her. 

“You…you made me a burr basket?” you asked dumbfounded. 

You'd asked Natasha for boo baskets and burr baskets and she never got them or made them and it hurt every time. 

“Yeah you kept talking about them so I wanted to make you one. I hope I did it right. I watched a bunch of tiktoks on making them and how others had them.” She rambled out. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, there was a blanket, slippers, flannel pj's pants, a face mask, eye mask, a little holiday squishmallow, lip balm, your favorite perfume, and some seasonal chocolate. 

“W-Wands…I…i don't have words this is…I…” you physically couldn't form words. You looked up at her and realized the only thing you could do to say thank you was kiss her. 

You moved the gifts out of the way, crawling forward and letting your lips brush against hers, when she didn't pull away you pushed into her, letting your lips pressed together. Your hand cupped her cheek as her lips started to move against yours. 

When you both needed air you pulled back just a little, your foreheads touching. 

“I wasn't expecting that as a thank you, but I won't lie…I've been wanting you to kiss me like that since I came to America…” she confessed. How had you not noticed what was right in front of you this whole time?

“Wands…would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” You ask softly.

“I thought you'd never ask.” She practically growled before kissing you again. 

This wouldn't be like with Natasha. You knew this was different. You could feel it. 

She was your someone special.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Milk Aisle - Lando Norris

<word count - 7191> |part 1 - Nerd|part 2 - Rumours|part 3 - So Special|part 4 - Something Else|

Lando resented you. He absolutely hated your guts. You had completely ruined him. He was miserable, wholly miserable. He spent the coming days sulking in bed, even skipping school on the Friday by telling his mum that he was sick.

Despite never really enjoying school, Lando wasn't one to ask to have a day off randomly. So, she let him, just this once. She knew it was something to do with you, but Lando never specified. A small part of him didn't want his mum or family disliking you, but he couldn't fathom why. 

Maybe it was because he still longed for you with every fibre of his being, but that was just a hunch. 

He didn't bother doing any of the catch-up work that he had missed, it didn't feel worth it to him. His mum had to talk him into going into school on Monday after a weekend of moping and sitting with his mind that was shrouded with the fog of his hatred for you. 

His mum drove him to school, and he went to stand by the lockers until the bell had gone for first lesson. His friends had texted to ask why he hadn't turned up to the track on Saturday, or to the park for football on Sunday, but he had left them all on read. 

It was weird to see them concerned for him, since they were so prone to taking the piss out of him. He appreciated it, but he didn't want to talk. Meanwhile, you had also spent your weekend in a stupor of sadness. 

You definitely regretted it in some capacity, but you were glad not to hear a word from anyone when you walked into school on Monday morning. You were still avoiding Lilly like the plague she was, but no one made any move to piss you off. 

Later in the day, you took yourself over to DT, where you knew Lando would be. You hadn't seen him all day, and you weren't sure if you wanted to or not. The guilt would eat you alive if you saw him. Well, if he was sad. 

For all you knew, he could have been going about his day acting as if everything was fine and he wasn't so hurt by the way that things had ended between you. But then you caught yourself as your inner monologue ran rampant. 

Things had ended? That made it sound like you were in caring, loving relationship. Your friendship was very caring, since the both of you were very considerate of how the other felt. Loving? That was a whole other matter to consider.

Neither of you knew what love in a romantic capacity meant, but whatever you felt for Lando was the closest thing you had ever had to it. He wasn't there when you walked in, which was slightly relieving. 

You sat at your bench, opening the cupboard underneath the desk to see everyone's work who sat at that desk throughout the week. And there was the piece that Lando had made as part of the bet that had started all of this. 

He still owed you a week of woodwork, and you still owed him a few maths homeworks, but you had given up on it, just like you had given up on Lando. The bell went that signalled that everyone should be in lesson, and Lando still wasn't there.

Your teacher took the register, but just as he reached Lando's name, the door swung open as he skulked into the room. He didn't look at you, or anyone else for that matter as he took his seat at his bench. 

"You're late, Lando," your teacher said, and Lando just sat there and looked at him. "Why?" he asked, and Lando's eyes darted around the room for a second, as if coming up with a reason why he was late. 

"I was with Miss Kennedy," he said, and everyone knew it was a lie. Miss Kennedy was your maths teacher, and you knew he wasn't with her because you had seen her go into the maths room and Lando sure as hell hadn't gone in too.

It seemed your DT teacher also knew that it was bullshit, but he decided not to press the matter any further. Once the register was done, he explain what you'd be doing today. You hoped you'd be doing 3D modelling on the computers or 3D printing - or at least something that didn't require too much technicality. 

But no, it was your absolute favourite thing to be doing. Woodwork. You had to stifle an audible groan while he went through what you'd be doing. The task itself was relatively simple, but that didn't mean you wanted to do it.

Your assignment for the next two lessons was simple: you had to make a storage box. A simple box with some sort of opening and slots for any types of items that you wanted in it. You didn't have long to design it, you just had to come up with some measurements, grab the supplies from the store cupboard once it was authorised and go for it. 

In the end, you quickly made a rough sketch of your flashcard holder. It was something you'd actually use, and you would actually try since it would be going on your desk and you'd have to look at it every day. 

You planned out 11 compartments, one for each of your subjects and went to the storage cupboard to get your supplies. For this lesson, you had your sheets of wood and the hinges in case you actually got onto finishing the lid of the box. 

Despite your hatred of the subject, you had to admit that you were quite good at it. It was probably the perfectionist in you, wanting to make everything exactly to size and make your stuff look professional, even if you had never made anything quite as perfect as what Lando and his dad had made you. 

Lando just sat at his bench, unmoving. While everyone else had pretty much finished sketching and had gathered supplies, he hadn't even put pencil to paper. Your teacher knew something was up. Lando and your DT teacher were like you and your maths teacher - as close as it was appropriate for a teacher and student to be.

Lando was the best at DT, so he liked him. So, to see him not even bothering to try made him worry. He wasn't going to push Lando, but he also didn't want anyone else to see him just sitting around and think they could also slack off or that he was playing clear favourites.

"Lando can you please at least sketch something? And then we can make it another day," he gently encouraged, and Lando didn't want to take his bad mood out on his teacher, it wasn't his fault. It was yours. 

Lando mindlessly sketched shapes on his paper before deciding on what he wanted to do. Out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but spot you putting your hair up and pulling your apron on over your head. 

Goddamnit, why did you have to be so captivating to him? He was supposed to hate you for what you did, but why couldn't he? His eyes were superglued to you as you moved, marking out the measurements on your bits of wood. 

Trying to focus on the paper in front of him, Lando was finding it harder and harder to keep himself away from you. Plus, the way you were cutting your wood was far from safe. Your fingers were way too close to the saw blade, and he wasn't liking the way you were doing it. 

You were quick with the chopping so that you could make the cut as clean as possible, and you had neglected to notice the placement of your fingers. Every back and forth motion seemed to bring your fingers a centimetre closer to the blade, and he was internally cringing.  

He might not have liked you, but he couldn't watch you hurt yourself and just stand by and do nothing. Getting up from his seat, he approached your bench. "Hey, Y/N, don't chop it like that, you'll hurt yourself-" he started, but he was a few seconds too late. 

The hand that was sawing got caught, the teeth snagging in the wood. This caused your hand to slip, tilting the blade while still sawing. "Ow, fuck!" you yelped, dropping the saw with a clatter and clutching onto your fingers while droplets of crimson dripped down the side of your hand. 

Lando dragged you over to the sink in the corner of the room, turning on the tap and sticking your hand under the running water. "Stay there," he told you, darting to the other side of the room to get the first aid kit off of your teacher's desk. 

By the time he had gotten back, your teacher was inspecting your hand as red continued to gush out and you cried out in pain. It wasn't even that it hurt that much since the adrenaline was running, it was more the sight of the amount of blood. 

Everyone was looking at you, some people shielding their eyes from the sight of the blood trickling down onto the floor. Your teacher had his hands clamped over the injured fingers, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding. 

"Lando, can you get the cotton wool out of the kit please?" he asked, and Lando was quick to pop it open and rummage through all of the different items. He found the big pack of cotton wool, pulling some out and passing it to your teacher.

He held it over the wounds across your digits, still trying to stop the bleeding. Lando felt like a bit of an idiot, just standing there and watching as more and more tears trickled down your face as the pain appeared to set in. 

He had seen you crying more than he had seen you smiling as of recent, and it broke him. He couldn't even put a hand on your back to soothe you, or hold your other hand in support. All he could do was watch. 

He didn't want to risk you pushing him away, not again. Lando at least let himself pull out a tissue from the first aid box and offered it to you. You took it with a small smile and a whispered thank you, the feeling of your fingers brushing together sending jolts of electricity through both of you.

Dabbing at the tears on your cheeks, your teacher asked Lando for the alcohol wipes from the box. "This is probably going to hurt, but I need you to just bear through the pain, OK?" your teacher said, and you held your breath in anticipation. 

Pressing the wipe to your sliced fingers, the pointed sting instantly seeped into the wound. You let out a sharp hiss of pain, your face scrunching up in agony. Without thinking, you grabbed Lando's hand and squeezed it for dear life, just to take your mind off the soreness.

There was no way in hell that he was pulling his hand away from you, instead he was glad that he could offer some semblance of support for you when you needed him. He could see that your hand was shaking as your teacher wiped the red off of your fingers, droplets still sliding down your hand. 

"Y/N, I think you need to go to the nurses office, OK? I'm going to have Lando take you," he told you, and you nodded. "Hold this on your fingers," he told you, pressing more cotton wool over the open wounds. 

Swapping to hold your hand with his free hand, Lando placed his other hand on your elbow in case he needed to quickly grab onto you. If you were going to pass out, you probably would have by now, but he didn't want to take that chance. 

No words were exchanged as you walked down the corridors, and you were focused on ignoring the pain and keeping the cotton wool clamped down on your fingers. Lando wanted to talk to you, to tell you that you were going to be okay, but he didn't want to overstep his bounds. 

And he was repeatedly reminding himself that he is supposed to hate you, not want to make you feel better. He was meant to enjoy your pain for some sadistic reason, but he felt that the mental justification of that didn't really align with any form of moral values. 

Eventually, the two of you arrived at the nurse's office, and Lando took his hand away from your elbow to knock on the door. You heard a muffled 'Come in!' from the other side of the heavy wooden door, and Lando opened it to usher you inside. 

He stepped in behind you, taking a firm grasp of your hand again. The nurse looked between the two of you, her eyes landing on the hand that you were covering with the cotton wool as she looked at the redness still partially dribbling from it. 

She was waiting for your explanation, but when you didn't offer one, Lando piped up. "She sliced her fingers on one of the tenon saws in the workshop, we haven't seen how deep they are but there's a lot of blood. She's still got all of her fingers, we don't need any sewing back on," he said, his attempt at making a joke falling flat. 

"OK, sit down, dear," the older lady told you, patting the bed in the corner of the room. Lando led you over, helping you shuffle on without the aid of your own hands. "You can go back to class now, love. Thank you for bringing her," she said to Lando as he kept hold of your hand for a few more moment. 

After offering you a final squeeze of reassurance, Lando released his grip and took a step back. Just as he reached the door, he heard your voice. "Lando?" you said, his name sounding heavenly coming from you. Your voice was rough from crying, and something about it worked for him. "Thank you," you said. 

"No problem," he nodded, taking himself out of the room and slowly walking back to the workshop. Once he got back, your teacher went up to him. 

"Is she OK?" he asked, and Lando just shrugged.

"I don't know, the nurse sent me away before she looked at her hand," he explained.

"Did you see what happened?"

"She was sawing through one of the pieces of wood for her container and her fingers were way too close to the blade. Her hand slipped and the blade caught her fingers," he told him, your teacher sighing.

"OK, thanks Lando," he said, walking off to observe the other students in the class. Glancing over at your desk, Lando saw the nearly chopped pieces of wood that you were doing, and something in him was compelling him to go over and finish it for you. 

He didn't want to, since he didn't want to be doing you anymore favours. But he also couldn't just leave it sat there, barely started. With a huff and hurling internal insults about himself for being weak, he took himself over to your desk. 

Your saw blade had blood on it, and he sure as hell wasn't using that. Your teacher spotted it and took it away for sanitation, leaving Lando to get another one from the tool cupboard. The bit of wood that you had been cutting was completely wrong after your hand slipped, a full slice through the surface.

He looked at your sketches and redrew out the dimensions on a different piece of wood, before taking it over to the bandsaw to cut it quicker. He didn't know why you didn't opt for that instead of the hand held method, but he was glad you hadn't. You definitely wouldn't have had fingers if you had slipped with that machine. 

Lando was quick with cutting the pieces up, getting ready to sand the edges and glue them together. He also saw the small tin of white paint on the desk, now seeing the full picture of your final creation. 

From a distance, your teacher saw Lando redoing your project for you and smiled to himself. He knew that Lando had made your previous work that you had turned in, it was obvious. There was no one with the precision or meticulousness like Lando, and it was clear who had done the work.

He found it admirable that the young man had put so much time and effort into the things for you, so much so that he couldn't even be mad. He watched as Lando picked up your pencil and made some amendments to the designs, as well as adding in some extra stuff that he knew would make it even better. 

In the meantime, you were still sat in the stuffy nurses office. The bleeding had slowed down, and the cuts on your fingers were deep, but not so bad. They may leave faint scars, though. "Is that young man your boyfriend?" she asked, and you knew she was just looking for something cool to tell the other teachers in the staff room later. 

"No, no. We're... friends." you said, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. It was all your doing, and maybe if you hadn't pushed him away, you could have been saying that he was your boyfriend. 

"Ah, 'friends'," she teased as she cleaned up the dried blood from around the wounds. You didn't respond, you just let her wrap each finger in some soft bandages. "Keep these on for a couple weeks, if they come off you can come back and I'll refresh them, OK?"

"OK, thank you," you nodded, taking yourself back to class with only a few minutes left of the lesson. As you walked in, you saw Lando at your bench, painting the pieces that he had recut for you. 

"I was... erm... sir did this... I was just painting them..." he stuttered, and your teacher smirked from behind him. 

"No, no I didn't. Lando did the whole thing," he chuckled, watching as his face turned red. 

"Thanks Lando," you smiled, admiring what he was doing. Every piece looked like absolute perfection, and he was even taking such precise care in the brush strokes he was using for it. 

"Anytime," he mumbled, putting the wet pieces on the window sill and going over to his own desk again. He didn't think you'd come back from the nurse's office before the end of the lesson, so to see you walk in before was nothing short of embarrassing. 

He didn't want you to think that everything was fine, and he was still pining after you. He didn't want you to know how much he still wanted you, and how much he always would. Yet here he was, doing your work for you when you had hurt yourself. Helping you when you had hurt yourself. 

Lando felt like an idiot. A big, lovesick idiot who didn't know what else to do but chase after the one girl he had ever had feelings for. He was desperate for the the bell to go so that he could leave, so that he could get away from you.   

It had dawned on him that he'd have to see you in maths, but he would be taking himself off to his reinstated desk in the back of the class, not the front row slot that he had once been so happy about having. 

Miss Kennedy had noticed his move, but she didn't say anything. She had noticed that the quality of his homework had slipped, and the next test that you had wasn't boding well. Whenever she walked around class when you were all working, she noticed that he barely got past the first few questions. 

She was hoping that his sudden brilliance wasn't just a short term thing, but she couldn't be too sure. Lando knew that you'd be there first, so he took it upon himself to be late yet again. He went to sit on the back row, not even paying attention to the new stuff you were being taught. 

Once you had been set off doing more practice questions, Miss Kennedy made her way to the back of the class. "Lando, can I have a really quick word with you after class?" she asked, and it wasn't like Lando could exactly say no. 

He thought he was going to get told off for the sudden deterioration in the quality of his work, but he wasn't in the head space to care. "Yeah," he nodded, going back to pretending to do the questions that were on the whiteboard. 

Everytime he looked up, he saw you firing through the maths as you always did. He didn't like seeing your bandaged hand, knowing that he could have stopped it if he had been quicker with telling you. 

Deep down, he knew it wasn't his fault, but he still didn't like knowing that he could have prevented it if he wasn't so caught up in his own head. You were just resting it on the table, since it was painful to do anything else with it at this moment in time. 

You were just working through the maths to try and take your mind off of your hand and Lando. It hurt, that was a given, but seeing Lando so miserable hurt a hell of a lot more. In many ways, you wished that he was just going about his day like normal, just so that you could confirm the theory that he never really cared. 

Yet, seeing him so miserable almost proved the opposite. He had to have cared to some degree, and it made you hate yourself even more for what you had done. He had even been doing your DT for you, again. He had made them perfect for you like ha always did. 

Although it felt cruel to go to him and say that you wanted to forget what you had said to him and just go back to being his friend again. It felt a little too far gone for that, and it was your fault. Completely your fault. 

Miss Kennedy went through the answers to the questions, before telling you all to make sure that you revised for your test. She let you go on the bell, but you took extra time to pack up since you pretty much only had one hand. 

It was a struggle, and Lando wanted so desperately to go over to you and help, but he stood his ground and waited at the back of the class. The tension in the air was thick, and it felt like the walls were closing in on you as you felt Lando's eyes on you from the back of class. 

Miss Kennedy was also watching, and you kept dropping things in your rush to leave the stuffy room. Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you bolted out of the room and into the flurry of students in the corridor. 

As you left, Miss Kennedy closed the door behind her, closing herself and Lando off from the rest of the school. "What's going on with you, Lando?" she softly asked, leaning against the door.

"Nothing." he curtly answered, itching to leave the room so that she wouldn't ask more questions.

"Your work in class is slipping, your homework is going downhill, and I can nearly guarantee that you're not going to smash tomorrow's test like you have been doing recently. What's gone on?" she pressed, and Lando was trying to come up with a lie on the spot. 

"Just stuff at home..." he mumbled, suddenly panicking that they may call his parents to ask what was happening and that it was effecting their son. Miss Kennedy stayed quiet, as if still pushing him to say something. 

"It's just stuff with Y/N, nothing major." he said, leaving his confession there. 

"Trouble in paradise?"

"If that's what you want to call it," he scoffed, knowing that things between the two of you were never paradise. You were always nearly there. You teetered on the precipice of happily ever after and a sick sense of doomsday. Yet, doomsday had gone from being close at hand to his every day state of mind.

"She's good for you, Lando. You do miles better when she's sat with you, and she actually talks to the people around her when you're there." Miss Kennedy told him, and it was hardly like he didn't know it already.

But, hearing it from someone else and out loud instead of in his own head, it somehow hurt more. It was like he was being forced to accept that you were better together than you were apart, and it was like tearing open the already shakily sewn together wound. 

"Yeah well, apparently I'm not good for her," he sighed, keeping his head down and walking out of the door. There was no use in Miss Kennedy stopping him, since she knew that was the best she was going to pull from him.

If Lando didn't want help, then he wouldn't let himself be helped. It was as simple as that. 

But, as he walked to his lockers with his eyes focused on his feet, he heard voices. He felt a strange sense of deja vu creeping up on him. He knew Lilly was there, and he wasn't putting any money on who she was talking to.

"See? The second you gave him even a shred of hassle, he was out of there. Do I get an apology now?" she said, and he could see the sneer on her face in his mind.

"No, Lilly. You get no apology. You don't deserve an apology. You don't deserve anything." you said, your voice giving nothing away. If Lando wasn't so annoyed at you, he would have found your stubbornness impressive. 

"But I was right, wasn't I? You're left being all by yourself, and now the smartest girl has been labelled at the dumbest for ever thinking she had a shot with Lando Norris." she continued to tease, and Lando couldn't tell if you were on the verge of tears or slapping her. 

He had said the exact same thing to you, but it sounded so much worse when she said it. He didn't mean it, not anymore. He may have in the moment, but he didn't believe it for a second now. And he knew Lilly did.

"Lilly, what has to happen for you to realise that you're going to walk out of these doors and be nothing. Everyone will remember you as the bitch who had nothing better to do than put other down because she wanted to make herself feel better." you started, and Lilly's eyes flashed with something unrecognisable. Hurt? No. 

"Oh please, I'm the-"

"No, I'm not done. When it comes to our highschool reunion, one day in the future, you're going to be nothing. Maisie might be doing music, since I'm sure you're awfully jealous of the fact that her talent is beyond anything you could ever have. I'll have gotten the best damned grades I can get and I'll be working some badass job just like I'm meant to."

"And guess what, you're not going to like this one. Lando will be with someone who isn't you. Because he doesn't like you. He'll never like you. No one will ever like you. No one here does, and no one will if you keep on destroying other people just to make you loathe yourself a little less." you finished, closing your locker and walking away from her. 

For once, you had rendered Lilly completely speechless. Lando stood still out of sight in the silence, unable to ignore the slight sense of pride that he was feeling for you. He walked past her to his own locker, and he was waiting for her to say something. 

"Erm... Lando?" she started, and he had never seen her so timid. This felt like the most genuine version of Lilly that he had ever seen, but he wasn't going to trust it. "Would you... maybe want to grab a coffee with me or something on the weekend?" she asked, and he had to use a lot of willpower to not just laugh in her face.

"Take the hint and fuck off, Lilly." he said, retrieving everything out of his locker and walking away. He had rejected girls before, and he had always felt bad about it. This time, he felt nothing but some weird sense of joy.

He liked being the one in control of situations with Lilly, because it gave her a taste of her own medicine. But he'd rather have you back. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd rather have you back. The satisfaction of going that to Lilly was incomparable to the joy he got when he was with you.

All he could hope was that she was now going to just leave him alone so that he could carry on with his life. Without Lilly, without you, just how it was those few fateful weeks ago. 

It was weird how everything had gone down over the past few weeks. He had gone from not talking to you ever, to talking to you all the time, to not, to being back at it, then practically strangers. 

Two people whose paths crossed momentarily that were now leading away from each other again. He couldn't quite tell whether he preferred his life before or after, the more he thought about it.

He had been happy before, without a care in the world. He was floating off the ground as he let the breeze of his youth carry him through life. Yet, with you, he was flying . He was soaring in the clear blue skies without  a cloud in sight. But now, it seemed like there was a permanent blanket of clouds hiding away the sun.

----

The following Saturday, your mum had dragged you out of the house to go on the weekly shop with her. You hadn't been shopping with her since you were at least ten, but she wasn't taking no for an answer today. 

All you had to do was watch as she checked her shopping list and navigated the aisles to find what she needed for this week. It was one of the most dull things you had done in a long time, and you would've done anything to be at home. Or anywhere else. 

You were snapped out of your daydreaming about more exciting activities when you heard your mum scoff to herself. You watched as her eyebrows knitted in slight frustration. "Love?" she asked, looking over at you. 

"Yeah?"

"Could you run to the bread aisle? I've accidentally picked up brioche rolls." she asked, and you just took the rolls out of the trolley and tried to find your way back to the bread aisle. You look at the signs over your head, eventually finding it, of course, at the very end of the supermarket. 

Putting the rolls back on the shelf and looking for the ones you normally got, you could've sworn you saw a familiar flash out of the corner of your eye. Curly brown locks- no, no it can't have been. Lando's family were millionaires, they shopped at Waitrose. Not Tesco.

Anyway, shoving that thought to the back of your mind, you collected the right bread rolls and went to track down your mum, wherever she was. You heard her talking to someone as you approached the dairy section, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. You were going to be stuck here for a long time. 

But, when you turned the corner, you nearly froze. Lando's mum. Your mum. Lando. All three of them were stood there, in conversation. Well, Lando wasn't talking, but your mothers sure as hell were.

Dropping the rolls into the trolley, Lando avoided your gaze. You hoped you wouldn't have to chip into the discussion, but your mum soon ruined those hopes. "Y/N, you didn't tell me you knew Lando," she chirped, and you saw the glint in both Lando's and his mum's eyes. 

You all knew what was going on, but you had to play along with the charade anyway. "You didn't tell me you knew Lando," you countered, sending daggers towards your mum.

"We met at parents evening, I just never knew the two of you knew each other," she responded, and you wanted the floor to swallow you up. Before you got another word in, your mum piped up again. "Why don't you two go and get yourselves a table in the cafe and a hot chocolate or something?" she suggested, and none of you could come up with a reason as to why it wouldn't be a good idea.

You just sighed and started making your way over to the in-store cafe. You didn't check to see if Lando was following, since you had to come up with something to talk to him about. Or you could just sit there in silence until your mums finished shopping. 

Spotting a table in the corner, you sat down and Lando sat opposite you. You couldn't think of anything to say, something to strike up a conversation with. Lando felt the same, except for his feelings were a bit more obvious to him. 

He was annoyed, to say the least. Fate had brought you together, yet again - even when it knew that you kept on throwing your endless vaults of spanners into the works to break it all down again and again and again. 

As you fidgeted with your hands on the slightly sticky wooden table, Lando noticed the fresh looking bandages around the fingers that you had nearly sliced off. "So... how are your fingers?" he asked, and you tried to maintain eye contact as best you could and failed miserably. 

"Oh, they're doing OK. I had to go to the doctors to get them glued so that they could heal better, but they'll be OK. Scarred, but OK." you explained, and Lando felt a pang of something in his chest. You were perfect, far too perfect, and now you were going to be scarred because he wasn't quick enough to help you. 

But there it was again, that self blaming for something that truly wasn't his fault. He couldn't help be concerned, even if he kept telling himself over and over again that he hated you. He hated you for what you did to him, how his brain reacted to you. 

He hated the butterflies that fluttered to life in his stomach every time he saw you. He hated the electricity that sparked through his veins whenever the two of you made physical contact. He hated the way your smile would light up his world like the sun. 

Most of all, he hated the way he still wanted you. If you were willing to push it all aside and even just be his friend again, he'd take it. It was better than nothing. Having you as a friend was a hell of a lot better than not having you at all. 

"Well that's good," he nodded, desperate to bring up if you could be friends again. He would be your friend in secret if that's what it took. He could still drive you home, spend time with you on the weekends instead of in school.

"I'm getting a drink, you want one?" he asked, standing up from his seat and trying to read the menu from the distance you were at. He knew his mum would scold him if neither of you had a drink, or if he hadn't at least offered to get you one. 

"Could I have a hot chocolate, please?" you requested, and Lando headed off to the counter to order two hot chocolates. In an alternate universe, this was a date and he'd get to ask you to be his girlfriend after your little, impromptu hot chocolate. 

Shortly after, Lando returned with the two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and placed yours in front of you. "Thank you," you smiled, and he could've sworn he felt his heart stop. That smile. That pretty goddamn smile. The smile he was meant to loathe but could never heartily do so. 

"How much do I owe you?" you asked, rifling around in your bag for your purse.

"Hey, no, we don't do that." he said, as if there was such thing as a 'we' in this situation. He saw the slight blush that coated your cheeks, and he couldn't help but revel in it. He just wanted to spoil you rotten and love you. 

Sitting down, he was suddenly absolutely itching to just tell you everything. How much he was willing to do to get you back. "Look, I really-" he started, before he was interrupted by your mums getting back with their trolleys of shopping. 

He was going to tell you how much he missed you and how much he wanted to be your friend again, but of course your mothers just had to return at the exact wrong time. Or maybe the right time so that he didn't have to make a complete fool of himself. 

Your mum went to get coffees for the two of them, and Lando's mum was quick to strike up conversation. "Y/N, Lando told me about your hand. Really nasty accident, huh?" 

"It was, yeah. If Lando hadn't helped, I probably would've panicked and passed out," you chuckled, seeing the small flicker of shock on Lando's face. He was just doing what he thought anyone would do in that situation, and he hadn't realised how much you had appreciated his presence. 

"He just told me he got the first aid kit," she said, now guessing that Lando hadn't told her the whole story. He had gotten the part right about your sawing method to be flawed at best, and that he had given your teacher cotton wool, but the rest was missed out.  

"Oh no, he took me right to the sink, held my fingers under the water, held my hand, took me to the nurses office. He even carried on my project for me." you told her, and the pride she felt for her son was unmistakable. 

She knew he was smitten for you already, but it was nice to hear that he was still completely head over heels, even if you two weren't on the best terms right now. She was glad that she had raised him to be so thoughtful in such a situation. 

"Well, I'm glad he acted fast," she smiled as your mum returned with the coffees for the both of them. They got lost in conversation, leaving the two of you to just sit there and listen to them gossip for a while. 

"C'mon, we're going for a walk," he said, slipping off of his chair and waiting for you by the table to join him. Neither of your mums paid much notice to your departure, so the both of you just started wandering around the supermarket. 

Once you were out of earshot of your parents, Lando spoke. "Look, I really miss you, OK? I keep telling myself that I should just forget about you and move on, I can't. You were one of my closest friends and I can't keep going on pretending like we never were close." he blurted out, and you just looked at him.

You couldn't decide if you were happy with what he was saying, or upset. You were happy because it just meant he felt the same way that you did, that he missed you like you missed him. 

On the other hand, you felt so guilty. So guilty for throwing what you had away for the sake of bullies. But in the moment, that felt like the best course of action for your mental health and your sanity. 

"Please, just... be my friend again? We don't even have to talk in school, just out of school. Just so that I can still at least talk to you." he said, his eyes pleading with you to just cave and let him back into your life. "I miss you..." he repeated, and you could tell that there was more to it than what he was saying.

You knew that there was not a single teenage boy on planet earth that would be this desperate to get a girl who was just a friend back, but you couldn't say you were complaining. "Lando..." you whispered. 

Just hearing his name on your lips was enough to send him into meltdown. Yet, he couldn't tell by your tone whether the next thing you were going to say was good or bad. "I'm sorry." you said, and he was still confused. 

Were you apologising because of what you did, or because you couldn't take him back as your friend?

"I really want to be your friend again," you confessed, and he was waiting for the 'but' to come after your sentence, but he was left waiting for it. You saw a smile slowly spread across his lips, his eyes lighting up. 

"Really?" he asked, ready for you to finish off with something about how much of a bad idea all of this was.

"I miss you too. A lot." you told him, and he could practically hear his heart singing in glee. 

"Can I hug you?" he asked all too quickly. You nodded, and before you could get any words in, he wrapped his arms around you. It was so nice to have you back in his embrace, and you weren't even crying this time. 

He could've cried of joy, but he thought that that was a bit too far. He may have been a very considerate teenage boy, but he was still a teenage boy nonetheless.  "So are we friends all the time or just out of school?" he said, not showing any signs of letting go of you.

"Just out of school for now, I don't know if I can handle much more of the crap we get put through," you told him, and he was slightly disappointed. Not disappointed enough to say something and put everything in jeopardy, but disappointed enough to pull back and give you a small pout. 

"Don't give me that face," you playfully scolded, trying to shuffle out of his arms.

"What face? I don't know what you're talking about," he feigned innocence, tightening his grip around you so that you couldn't run away from him.

"Don't play dumb with me, Norris. You know what face," you pressed, and it just made his pout more prominent. 

"Nope, no idea," he laughed, tugging you back close to him. Resting his head on the top of yours, he basked in the feeling of your heart against his, being able to have you right where he wanted you. The setting of the milk aisle wasn't the most glamorous or romantic, but he didn't care. As long as he was with you. 

A/N - Merry Christmas again! Another one for you, part 5 of this series that I didn't think would do as well as it has, but hey. I am not complaining. Love y'all 💖

tag list: @dying-inside-but-its-classy @formula1mount @sltwins @mariedeyes223 @sarah-thatstings-ann @solo2leo @arian-directioner @wisestarfishbouquet @qweerasdfg-blog

|masterlist|

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Take Them All On

|| Sevika x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader being followed, brief swearing, group of men flirting with reader, panic/fear, Sevika kicks ass, kinda injured reader? not really, hurt/comfort

|| Summary; when reader goes to meet up with Sevika for a date, she notices she's being followed.

Requests closed!

Started; December 23rd

Finished; December 23rd

HurtCember2024; Day 20, Panic

Author Note; I may open my fic requests up in the next couple days for Christmas, but I'll wait and see how caught up I get on all the stuff I'm writing now

~~~

Zaun. The streets were dangerous, luckily most people didn't dare bother you. They knew your connections to Sevika and her connections to Silco. Neither were to be messed with down here. But occasionally, there was that odd bunch of people that just- didn't know or completely ignored it.

You'd been on your way to meet with your girlfriend, walking quickly with your head down. Wanting to just disappear into the shadows. Something in your gut felt off. Like... there was an extra set of eyes on you. You couldn't shake the feeling. All the hairs on your body were standing tall and it was creating a sense of panic in you. An urge to get to Sevika faster.

Picking up the pace, you turned around a corner. Now moving at somewhere between a jog and a run. You were almost there. The Last Drop lights in view.

"Woah- fu-!" Next thing you knew, your face was in the ground. Having tripped over yourself in your rush. Carefully, you propped your arms up. There was some scrapes you could feel burning but it didn't seem to be anything major.

The sound of men laughing filled your ears," aw, sweetheart. We got you falling for us already?" You turned to the voices. You didn't recognize them, but the gleam in their eyes sent shivers down your spine. Not the good kind. Were they why you had felt eyes on you before? It seemed likely. Panic raised into your throat. You felt frozen, unable to move off the ground. There were more of them than you, you couldn't take them all on. One maybe, this many? No.

"You boys want something?" A familiar voice caught your attention and you instantly relaxed. Sevika. Your head turned to look at her, a grateful smile across your lips.

"Sev..." Her eyes weren't on you, though. There was a fixed glare as she walked past you and right to the group of men that had followed you. Standing between you and them, her back to you. She'd noticed them from the bar window and came out the moment you tripped. Sevika knew what the people in Zaun could be like and was not about to take any chances. Not when those chances came to you.

"We were just admiring the view you got there, Sevika. She's real fine. Ever thought of sharing her?" Another man said with a laugh.

You felt sick just listening to them.

Sevika, however, radiated intimidating energy. The whole room felt tense. Suffocating just with her presence alone, even for someone like you. Who wasn't on the receiving end of what she was about to dish out. You could only imagine what the group of men must feel.

Sevika ripped her cloak off, the fabric falling to the ground beside you and revealing her prosthetic. In the blink of an eye, that same prosthetic had gone from being at her side to slamming against the face of the man that dared speak about you. The force was enough to knock him to the ground. He didn't move so, you could only assume he was unconscious. If not dead. With Sevika it was kind of a 50/50.

The others looked startled for a brief second before regaining their composure. A five vs one fight broke out; Sevika really didn't look like she needed any help- you helped her out anyway. Taking on one of the guys. He was a lot bigger than you and both of you hardly even got a punch in when Sevika grabbed his face with her claw.

"Not a chance," She muttered. His face was met with the wall. You looked around and noticed everyone now looked about the same as the first guy. Just sprawled in different positions, with various injuries. Sevika took a moment to catch her breath then turned to look at you," you okay there, Princess?"

"Yeah... just a little scraped from my fall," you replied. Glancing down at your hands. Sure enough, there was a scrape or two. Sevika took your hands in her larger ones. Relieved that that's all you seemed to have gotten.

"I don't like you walking alone on these streets," Sevika sighed. She shouldn't have let you walk alone. She should have just gone and got you. She made a mental note that next time, she would come get you herself.

"I'm fine, you saved me, right? So, I'm fine," you smiled at her. Trying to reassure your girlfriend. Sevika just nodded, pulling you along towards The Last Drop where she'll take care of your scrapes in the bathroom.

She hated whenever you got hurt; it was supposed to be her job to protect you. Sevika's hardly going to leave your side now and probably make you do some fighting classes with her. Just for her own comfort.

[majorbuckyegan]

don't you break my faded heart

stalag luft III, friends to lovers, first kiss, frottage. (17.2k)

this is my hbo war secret santa gift for @ineededacentralblog hope you enjoy <3

🎄 also on ao3 🎄

Sixty-eight days.

That was how long he'd been trapped at Stalag Luft III, although John could admit that he was already beginning to lose track of the days.

He'd thought that he was doing an okay job of keeping track, but as he laid in his bunk now, counting the marks that he had scratched into the wooden wall of the combine, the number only came to sixty-four. Usually he wouldn't have questioned it, but sixty-four days would only bring them up to the twentieth of December, and he knew that it was Christmas Eve. He couldn't help but wonder where he had lost those four days.

He supposed it didn't really matter, though. Every single day felt the same as the last; each of them blurring into a web of frustration, boredom, and misery. If he hadn't already known that tomorrow was Christmas, he never would have guessed.

The worst part about being stuck here was that there didn't seem to be any end in sight. Who knew just how much longer they'd end up being trapped here. Until the war ended? That could be years away, and the thought of being stuck here for that long made him feel sick to his stomach.

He knew that nobody particularly liked being here, but it sometimes felt as if he was the only one who truly despised it. For the most part, the rest of the guys seemed content to simply wait it out. He couldn't understand it. They were all waiting for something to happen, but he was pretty sure that they needed to make something happen; and he seemed to be the only one who felt that way.

Still, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that any plans of escape would probably have to wait until the weather turned a little better. It was December, and they were God knows where in the middle of Germany. The temperatures at night dropped to a cold that he'd never felt before, the kind of cold that he could feel in his bones. So, with no solid plan, and with very little idea of their surroundings, he knew that it would be suicide to try and escape right now. Unfortunately, that meant resigning himself to the fact that they'd be trapped here until the Spring, at least.

Besides, every half-assed plan that he had come up with so far seemed less likely to work than the last one. Day and night, the fences were watched by eagle-eyed guards, who he knew were only itching to pull the trigger on somebody for acting out of line, and so he knew that a mad dash for the fence wouldn't result in anything other than a bullet in the head.

Over the last week or so, he had taken to going on walks around the block; looping around their combine and down as far as the end of the block, before coming back up along the side of the fence. He hadn't pushed his luck just yet, but he'd been inching closer and closer to the fence with each walk that he'd gone on, and he was pretty sure that he'd figured out the furthest point he could get before the guards in the watchtower started to get a little uneasy.

He wasn't quite desperate enough to make a run for the fence, but sometimes, he couldn't help but let himself wonder if it would really be so bad if he did? He didn't have anybody waiting for him at home, and so what did it matter, really?

Sometimes, he felt as if it would be a kinder fate than being trapped here for God knows how long.

Still, he knew that he'd never actually do it. He still had a responsibility to take care of his men, and he couldn't do that if he was buried in a shallow grave. As much as he sometimes wanted to just.. give up and let himself die, he knew that he had to stay strong for his boys; Brady, DeMarco, Crank, Murph, Hambone.

Gale. Always Gale.

Honestly, most of it was for Gale.

His boys were tough, and he knew that if they had to keep going without him, then they'd find a way to make it happen. When it came to Gale, though, he wasn't so sure, and that was maybe the main reason that he was determined to make it through this. He didn't like to place too much importance on himself, but he and Gale were.. well, honestly, he just knew that he wouldn't survive in here without Gale, and he was pretty sure that the sentiment was returned.

He tried his best not to consider the possibility that his dependency on Gale was completely one sided, because he was pretty sure it would kill him to find out that Gale didn't need him just as badly as he needed him.

He didn't think that was the case, though. When he had first been brought to the prison camp; he had staggered in on unsteady legs, his vision swimming from the pain in his head, as well as his broken ribs. He didn't remember a whole lot from that day, but one thing he did remember with startling clarity was seeing Gale at the fence, and feeling like life had been breathed back into him.

By then, he had convinced himself that Gale was dead, and so seeing Gale’s smile again was the sweetest thing he could have imagined.

He vaguely remembered Gale bringing him to the combine and fussing over him; carefully cleaning the wounds on his face, and patching him up as well as he could with their limited supplies. He hadn't spoken much, but his face had been closed off, and his touch had been careful and gentle as he had cleaned him up.

Once Gale had done all that he could do for him in that moment, they had sat in silence, until Gale had quietly admitted that he'd thought he was dead, that he'd been so scared to think that he was dead. He hadn't known what to say in return, because he wasn't used to that sort of emotion from Gale. So, he had simply taken Gale's hand to give his fingers a gentle squeeze, doing his best to convey everything he couldn't say with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

So, as awful a situation as it had been, he tried to hold onto that memory whenever he felt that Gale didn't need him, or that he'd be fine without him. They hadn't spoken much more about it, but they didn't need to. He knew exactly how Gale had felt when he'd thought that he was dead, and the last thing he wanted was to bring that on him again.

His last few days at Thorpe Abbotts, when he'd thought that Gale was dead, they'd been.. God, he didn't even want to think of it. He didn't want to let himself dwell on how empty he'd felt without Gale; how hopeless, how heartbroken.

He had always known that his feelings for Gale ran deeper than simply friendship, or admiration, or respect. He barely had words to describe just how much Gale meant to him, or how deeply he felt for him, and even though he knew it was wrong, that didn't change anything.

He was a man, he was a Major. He knew that he shouldn't have these kinds of feelings for his best friend, and yet, falling for Gale had felt like the most natural thing in the world. Realizing that he was in love with Gale hadn't felt as terrifying as he'd imagined it would, because he really couldn't pretend that it felt anything other than right.

Still, he wasn't naive enough to believe that there was a chance of his feelings being returned. Gale had Marge waiting for him at home, and he had never been shy about his plans to marry her once the war was over and they finally got to go home. He was happy for him, he really was, and so he had resigned himself to the idea of keeping his feelings to himself forever. It was fine. It was.

Gale was the closest friend he'd ever had, and so while he knew that his romantic feelings for Gale weren't returned, he did know that Gale felt their friendship just as deeply. That was enough for him, and so that was one of the main reasons that he was so determined to get through this. It was the main reason he hadn't made a run for the fence just yet.

Like he'd said earlier, today had been just another day in a long string of days that were all starting to run together. The only reason he even knew what day it was, was because it was Christmas Eve, and he knew that the idea of being stuck here over Christmas had put a lot of the guys in a bit of a sour mood. They'd always known that they wouldn't be home for Christmas, but he'd at least thought that they'd get to celebrate it in England; where it felt like an occasion worth celebrating.

It wasn't quite time for lights out yet, but he had to admit that he was feeling a little bit mopey over the whole situation. He hadn't slept great last night either, and so he was cold, he was tired, and honestly just feeling a little bit sorry for himself, and so what was the point in staying up?

Some of the other guys were still up, sat around the tiny table in the middle of the room and talking quietly amongst themselves as they played cards, and so he knew that he probably wouldn't actually get to sleep until it was lights out. He didn't mind, he knew he wouldn't actually sleep until Gale crawled into the bunk anyway, and so he didn't mind staying awake for a little while longer.

It had been a couple of weeks since they'd made the decision to start doubling up in their bunks at night. It was just too cold to sleep otherwise, and especially since the blankets they'd been given were little more than a thin, raggedy sheet. There was no point in even trying to rely on them to keep warm at night, and so the easiest thing to do was just double up with another guy and attempt to share body heat.

Any reservations that any of the other guys might have had about sharing a bunk with another man had long since faded with the freezing cold temperatures that they had to endure at night. He knew that some of them might be uncomfortable with the idea of it, but he certainly wasn't about to freeze his ass off in the middle of the night, for the sake of preserving his masculinity.

Even now, it was cold, although it wasn't quite as freezing as he knew it would be later. That kind of cold didn't usually set in until the middle of the night, and he was glad of the fact that there was usually a warmish body in his bunk to seek heat from by the time the temperature dropped.

He sighed, pulling the neck of his sweater up a little more securely around his chin to try and keep the warmth in, although he knew that it wouldn't do much good. Even the warm clothes they'd been given were thin and threadbare, and he knew that they were probably the bare minimum that they'd had to be given. Still, it was better than nothing, and so he'd take it.

He could feel the stubble on his jaw and his chin as he pulled up the neck of his sweater, and he knew that he was probably due a shave, but he couldn't find it in himself to want to bother. What was the point in trying to keep himself tidy and presentable, when he'd been wearing the same shirt for almost a week by now?

Even with the hygiene facilities in the camp, there was really only so much they could do when it came to keeping themselves clean. The water was icy cold at the best of times, and brown and muddy at the worst of times. The soap consisted of whatever they could scrape out of the trough that they used as a sink, and their razors were blunt enough that they were almost always guaranteed to cut themselves while shaving.

Of course it bothered him, how could it not? But he knew just how much Gale despised it.

The other man had always prided himself on his appearance; on looking neat, and tidy, and well put together. It broke his heart to watch Gale scratching at dirt stuck underneath his nails, or scraping his fingers through his hair in an attempt to keep it looking tidy.

He'd given Gale his last scrap of soap the other day, just so the other man would stop fussing and trying to wipe dirt off his hands that he wasn't sure was even there. It wasn't much, but Gale had smiled gratefully at him, and so he'd at least felt like he'd done something useful.

That was all he wanted, just to keep being useful to Gale, so that the other man would want to keep him around. He knew their friendship ran deeper than that, but it made him feel just a little bit better to give Gale a reason to want to keep him. He'd do whatever it took to continue being useful to Gale, even if that meant simply staying alive and not leaving Gale alone in here.

As if his thoughts were being read, he felt the thin mattress dip just behind him as Gale climbed into the bunk, and he glanced back over his shoulder at him, “Lights out already?” He asked. He hadn't taken much notice of the sounds of footsteps filling the room, too busy counting his scratches on the wall again.

Gale made a soft, affirmative noise, “Yeah, in a minute. They've started herding everyone inside.”

He just hummed quietly in response, before turning over so that he was facing Gale instead as the other man settled down.

Sleeping pressed up against Gale obviously didn't bother him, but he was relieved that it didn't seem to bother Gale either, because really, it was just about keeping warm during the night. He'd seen the way some of the other guys slept; Glen and Hambone usually slept with their backs to each other, the blanket shoved down between them, and as far apart as they could physically get. That didn't seem to be the most efficient way of sleeping in order to share body heat, but he wasn't about to start telling the other guys how they should sleep with their bunkmate.

He and Gale managed to make it work for the most part. It certainly wasn't warm, but it didn't feel quite so icy cold sometimes, and so that was enough for him. Besides, if he had his own selfish reasons for wanting to curl up close to Gale at night, then that was his own business, and Gale never needed to know about it.

Sometimes, on the really cold nights, Gale would press up close against him during the night, unconsciously seeking out warmth from him, and so he didn't feel bad about doing the same. On those nights, it was easier to pretend that they weren't trapped in this awful place. He could pretend that he was at home, in his own bed, and that Gale was with him; sharing a bed with him simply because he wanted to, not because he had to. It was a nice image to hold onto; one to get him through the worst parts of being here.

Once Gale had gotten as comfortable as he was probably going to get, he reached back over his shoulder to let down the thin sheet that they'd been using as a makeshift curtain. It wasn't much, but it kept at least some of the cold out, and it gave them some semblance of privacy. Not that there was anything that they needed privacy for, but he still appreciated it.

“You doin’ alright?” Gale asked once he'd settled back down, sliding a hand underneath the pillow, “You've been pretty quiet today.”

He just shrugged, “What's there to say?”

He knew that it was unusual for him to be as quiet as he'd been today, but like he'd just said, what was there to actually say? He was already in a bad mood because of the idea of being stuck here for Christmas, and so he didn't need to further that by sitting around talking about it.

Day in and day out, nothing had really changed since they'd gotten here, and so he didn't see the point in commenting on how cold it was, or how meagre their food rations had been, or how uneasy the guards seemed to be getting. They were conversations that they'd all had a thousand times by now, and he was actually sick of talking about it by now. He knew that Gale didn't want to hear any of his harebrained schemes for getting out of here, or any of his more morbid thoughts on their whole situation, and so he'd figured that he'd just keep his mouth shut and get on with it.

Gale nodded, and while it seemed as if he wanted to continue talking about it, he thankfully didn't push any further. He was glad, because he didn't particularly want to talk about any of it.

“Feels like it's gonna get colder tonight.” He said after a moment, biting his lip gently as he looked across at Gale.

For all of his insisting that he didn't see the point in talking about it, he hated simply laying here in silence. He obviously didn't mind it when they were actually settling down to sleep, but when he was laying here with Gale looking at him; he couldn't stand the silence. Besides, he could hear the rest of the guys still quietly talking to their bunkmates as they settled down, and so he didn't worry that they were keeping anybody awake.

“It does, yeah. Wouldn't be surprised if it freezes over.” Gale agreed quietly.

He was about to speak again, although he was cut off when there was a harsh bang at the door, followed by the sound of a guard yelling in broken English that it was time for lights out.

It didn't frighten him. The guards yelled, and they pushed them around, and they could be vicious when they wanted to be, but he wasn't intimidated by it. He knew that, if it came down to it, he could go toe-to-toe with any of them and would probably come out on top. Really, the only thing keeping him in line was the fact that they had guns and dogs. That obviously left him at a disadvantage.

He hated to see the way that Gale would flinch whenever a guard yelled, though, and the way he would always try to hide it. He didn't really understand the reason for it, because Gale was one of the toughest, strongest people he'd ever known, and so he'd been surprised to find that a bit of yelling made him so uneasy.

He did know that he'd had a rough childhood, though, and so he couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with that; if it dragged up memories of having to just stand there and take it while his father yelled at him.

It was just another thing that he wanted to protect Gale from, although he knew just how ridiculous a sentiment that was. Gale was a Major, just like he was. He was experienced, qualified, competent, and he was more than capable of taking care of himself. He didn't need him trying to protect him from the world. Besides, he was pretty sure that it wouldn't end well for either of them if the guards were to pick up on it. They might see Gale as a weak link, as someone to target when they wanted to make a point. That was the last thing he wanted to happen.

So, all he could do was try to protect Gale as well as he could, without making it too obvious.

He sighed as he watched Gale chewing anxiously at his lower lip as the guards outside slammed the shutters on the windows shut, “They're not coming in here, Buck.” He whispered. He couldn't promise that, but the guards had no reason to come in here when they had already herded everybody inside, and so he just hoped that he was right.

Gale just shot him a look, before dropping his gaze again, “I know that.” He muttered.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

He didn't mean to draw attention to it, but he just.. he hated seeing Gale like this. He hated seeing him anxious and uneasy, and so he only wanted to do whatever he could to make him feel a little bit better. He just wanted to help. Still, he could see that Gale was embarrassed that he'd noticed, and so he wouldn't say anything more about it.

He just wished that Gale wouldn't feel like that, though, because as far as he was concerned; there was nothing to be embarrassed about. The guards could be nasty when they felt like it, and so it was only natural that Gale would feel uneasy around them. Still, if Gale would rather he just turned a blind eye towards the whole thing, then he'd just have to do his best.

“Sweet dreams, fellas.” DeMarco said from his own bunk, over the other side of the room, “If you're all good, maybe Santa will come.” He teased, before switching off the light.

He huffed softly, before turning his attention back to Gale as the room was plunged into darkness, letting himself simply watch the other man as he finally settled down.

The guards had closed the window shutters, but there was just enough of a crack that the light from one of the watchtowers outside just about shone through into the room, and so he could still slightly make out Gale's features.

It was just enough for him to see that the other man looked tired, dark shadows underneath his eyes that he was just about to make out, even in the light of day. He knew they were there, though, even if he couldn't see them all too well.

He couldn't say he was surprised. He'd been here a little over two months, and he hadn't seen Gale let his guard down at all in that time. He knew how exhausting that had to be, and that was without the added pressure of being the person that everybody looked to.

He knew that Gale felt responsible for the rest of the guys; much like himself. He knew that he felt as if he had to be Major Cleven all of the time, and that he felt a responsibility to make sure that everybody was safe, and well, and looked after. It was a pretty big burden to shoulder, and he knew that Gale tended to put himself last a lot of the time. That was where he came in, to make sure that Gale was safe, and well, and looked after.

He knew that, lately, it had been taking its toll on him, though. As he looked at Gale, he couldn't help but wonder if he was coming down with something. They'd obviously all lost weight over the last two months, but Gale had always been slim, and so the way he had dropped the weight seemed almost unhealthy. He just hoped that wasn't the case, because they had enough to deal with without Gale being sick too. Still, he knew he couldn't do anything about it if that was the case; all he could do was try and deal with it.

“Are you doin’ alright?” He asked softly, lowering his voice to a whisper so that he wouldn't disturb the rest of the guys who were trying to sleep, “You don't look so hot.”

Gale just shrugged, a tiny, barely there lift of his shoulders, “Just tired, I guess. Been a long day.”

“Yeah.” He agreed.

He really didn't know what more there was to say about it. Gale was right, it had been a long day, and so had yesterday, and so had the day before that. Every day felt more mind-numbingly draining than the last, and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take; how much more of it any of them could take. Even on a good day, it was hard enough to slap on a smile and try to be strong for the rest of the guys, but on a bad day; he barely wanted to get out of his bunk. On those days, he wanted to keep Gale here with him; he wanted to simply pull the sheets up over their heads and pretend that everything was different.

They lapsed back into silence then, and he was almost sure that Gale had finally settled down to sleep, until the other man sighed again, shifting slightly where he was laying, “John?”

“Mm?”

“D'you-” Gale started, before sighing again, “Does it bother you that it's Christmas tomorrow, and we're stuck here?”

He swallowed thickly, trying his best not to focus too hard on how Gale's words made him feel. Of course he hated it, but what was he supposed to do about it? So, he simply nodded, shrugging his shoulders, “Yeah, of course it does.” He admitted softly, “Never thought it was gonna be like this. I thought we were gonna spend Christmas at Thorpe Abbotts.”

“Yeah, so did I.” Gale admitted softly.

“Guess I just got cocky.” He whispered, huffing out a soft breath of laughter, “Last two B-17s in the air, and all that.”

He remembered saying that to Gale over their breakfast one morning, and when Gale had told him not to count on it, he had simply smiled, because to think otherwise seemed like such a ridiculous prospect. He had genuinely thought that he and Gale would be the last two left, and he hated with every fiber of his being that he'd been wrong about that.

Gale just smiled back at him, something soft and devastating in the tiny gesture. It made him feel like his heart was breaking, and he didn't even know why.

He really did feel for Gale, though, because as much as he hated the fact that they were going to be stuck here for Christmas, it also meant that they were going to be stuck here for Gale's birthday, two days later.

Had they still been in England, he would have made a fuss; he would have tried to get him something nice, maybe even tried to get him a birthday cake. As it stood, all he'd been able to scrounge up for him so far had been a bar of chocolate, and he was planning on giving him that for Christmas tomorrow. It wasn't much, but it was something. He had tried.

“It'll be different next Christmas.” He said softly, although he wasn't sure if he even believed that. What if they were still here? What if things just continued to get worse and worse? What if either he or Gale didn’t make it to next Christmas? He refused to let himself consider that possibility, because it was the worst thing he could imagine.

Gale nodded, although he didn't look all that convinced, “You think so?” He asked quietly.

“I know so.” He said, forcing a small smile, “You'll be back home to Marge by then, I guarantee it.”

Talking about Marge was pretty much the last thing he wanted to do right now, but Gale just looked so.. miserable. He looked tired, and cold, and sad, and all he wanted to do was make him smile. Marge was the one thing that was always guaranteed to make Gale smile, and while the reality of that broke his heart a little bit, there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it.

“Yeah, maybe.” Gale said softly.

He sighed, only just resisting the urge to reach across and touch Gale. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to do; gently brush his fingers against his cheek, cup his jaw, comb his hair back from his forehead. All he knew was that he wanted to do something to comfort Gale, and he'd always known how to do that best with his touch.

“Try and get some sleep, can't have you sleeping in on Christmas Day.” He whispered, rather than letting himself touch Gale at all. He did let himself shuffle slightly closer, though, because there was no point in Gale even being here if they weren't going to attempt to share body heat.

“Yeah, you too.” Gale said softly, “‘Night, Bucky.”

“‘Night.” He said with a small smile.

He closed his eyes as he pressed his face in against the pillow, willing himself to drop off to sleep. He was tired, but he could still feel his mind prickling with worry over Gale and how he was doing. It was silly, because he knew that, right at this moment, there was nothing to worry about. Gale was next to him, he was in one piece. Maybe he wasn't doing as well as he would have liked, but there was nothing he could do about that right now. They could talk again tomorrow.

The room was quiet, the rest of the guys slowly starting to fall asleep. He could already hear somebody snoring over in the opposite corner, although he couldn't tell if it was DeMarco or Brady. It was coming from that side of the room, anyway. He could hear the wind whistling icy cold just outside the window, and it made him want to burrow himself in against Gale's side in an attempt to keep them both warm.

Even at the best of times, it wasn't exactly easy to sleep in this place. The mattress and pillow were lumpy and uncomfortable, and like he'd said before, the thin sheet wasn't anywhere near enough to keep them warm at night. Even though doubling up to keep warm was really the only option, the bunks weren't exactly made for two full grown men, and so he was glad that he was sharing with somebody that he really didn't mind being pressed up against.

Still, in saying that, there were some nights that Gale was fidgety and restless, and that didn't help with the whole sleeping situation either.

It seemed that tonight was one of those nights. In the quiet and stillness of the room, he could hear the way Gale was fussing next to him. As much as he understood that he just couldn't let himself settle sometimes, he had to admit that it was frustrating, and he immediately felt selfish for even thinking that.

He opened his eyes again, sighing as he watched Gale scrubbing at his hands with his sleeve again, obviously trying to wipe away dirt that probably wasn't even there. He hated when he did this. It was a nervous habit that the other man had picked up whenever he was feeling stressed or anxious, and it made his heart twist painfully in his chest every time he noticed Gale doing it.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how he hadn't scrubbed his hands raw by now, because of his inability to leave them alone.

“Would you stop?” He murmured, taking Gale's hands to keep him from fidgeting, although he frowned when he noticed just how cold Gale's hands were, “Jesus, Buck. You're freezing.”

“I'm fine.” Gale mumbled, attempting to pull his hands back.

He didn't let go, though, holding both of Gale's hands between his own, “What happened to your gloves?” He asked. He was sure Gale had had a pair, although in thinking about it now, he hadn't seen them in a while.

Gale swallowed thickly, seemingly doing his best to avoid his gaze, “Traded ‘em.”

“You- Buck..” He sighed. He couldn't say he was surprised, though. Gale had always been too selfless for his own good, he'd probably traded them away for something that would help one of the other guys out; an extra ration, medicine. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if he found out that Buck had just given them away to someone that he thought had needed them more.

Gale still wasn't looking at him, though, and so he just sighed, shaking his head, “Come here.” He murmured, taking Gale's hands to slide them underneath his own sweater, pressing them to the skin of his waist. It wasn't much, but it was better than letting Gale freeze to death.

“John-” Gale started, attempting to pull his hands back from him.

“Relax, I'm just trying to warm you up a little.” He insisted. The whole reason they'd decided to share bunks in the first place was to benefit from the shared body heat. There was no point in Gale being here at all if he wasn't going to try and get some warmth from him.

He curled in slightly closer to Gale, dropping his own arm over the other man's waist to pull him in close. He and Gale had become accustomed to sharing a bunk by now, but it had never been like this. They had always settled for sharing body heat by simply being next to each other; they had never wrapped each other in any sort of embrace, they had never pressed right up against each other like this. If he was being honest, it felt a little too much like cuddling.

He had no issues with wrapping himself around Gale to keep him warm, but Gale obviously did take issue with it, if the way he tried to hold him at arm's length was anything to go by, “I'm fine, John.” He insisted.

He rolled his eyes, “You're shivering.” He pointed out, before reaching across to take his hands again, “And your hands are fucking freezing, so don't try and tell me that you're fine.”

He hated to think of Gale just laying there for the rest of the night, unable to sleep because of how cold he was. He certainly wasn't warm, but he wasn't quite as icy cold as Gale was, and so pulling Gale in tight against him was the least he could do in order to try and warm himself up. He just wasn't sure why Gale seemed to be dead set on insisting that he was fine.

Gale just sighed, turning his head away so that he wouldn't have to look at him, “You don't get it.” He murmured, sighing again, “Just.. stay over there.”

“What's goin’ on?” He asked softly.

He wasn't sure what was going on with Gale, but he really couldn't deny the prickling of hurt that ran through him at the way that Gale was trying so desperately not to be close to him.

It had never been like that between them. Right from the beginning, he and Gale had always been very physical with each other; an arm thrown around Gale's shoulder, sitting close enough that their thighs pressed together, letting himself touch Gale's jaw, his thigh, his waist. He remembered even kissing Gale on the cheek one time; when they'd been in the pub near Thorpe Abbotts and he'd been three sheets to the wind. He'd always been a very tactile person when it came to Gale, and Gale had never seemed to have a problem with it before now.

Maybe it was because of the circumstances, and where they were. Maybe Gale just didn't feel comfortable with him touching him when they were technically in a bed together. It had never crossed his mind that that might be the case, just because Gale had never seemed this uneasy with him before. It made him feel a little bit deflated.

Gale shook his head, although it was impossible to miss the way his cheeks had flushed, “Nothing. I told you, I'm fine.” He insisted.

He sighed, letting himself simply watch Gale. He had no idea what was going on, but he did know that he hated it. He knew that he wouldn't get anywhere if he were to push the issue, though. Trying to force Gale to explain what was going on would probably only have the opposite effect, and the last thing he wanted was for Gale to feel as though he had no choice but to go back to his own bunk.

“Fine.” He said softly. He didn't like it, but he wasn't sure what there was to do other than just leave it. Maybe he could try and get Gale to talk about it tomorrow; it might be easier when they weren't pressed up against each other in his bunk like this, “Just.. come here, at least. I won't touch you.” He promised.

Gale just looked at him for a moment, before dropping his gaze again as he shuffled slightly closer to him. He still wasn't touching him, but at least he wasn't trying to hold him at arm's length anymore. He was relieved, because Gale wanting so desperately to pull away from him like that had stung; as little as he liked to admit that. This still wasn't much, but hopefully Gale wouldn't be quite as cold.

“Get some sleep, Buck.” He whispered.

Gale just nodded, “Yeah, you too.”

He gave Gale a tight smile, before turning over onto his other side to face the wall. He couldn't ignore the fact that it was still bitterly cold, though, and so he simply sighed as he pressed back against Gale in an attempt to seek some warmth from him. He had promised him that he wouldn't touch him, but he'd meant that he'd keep his hands to himself, rather than trying to wrap him in his embrace. This was hardly the same thing.

He had obviously caught Gale off guard by doing so, as their bodies came into contact before Gale had a chance to move back from him. He hadn't thought much of it, because the whole reason they were sharing a bunk in the first place was to keep warm, but as he pressed back against Gale, he froze when he felt something press against his lower back, quickly realizing that Gale was hard and straining against the front of his pants.

“Wait, John, don't-” Gale hissed, putting his hands on the back of his shoulders to push him away.

He almost didn't know what he was supposed to say. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't a big deal. Gale was a man, he obviously had needs. It was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Buck, it's.. it's okay.” He whispered.

“It's not. It's.. I shouldn't-” Gale cut himself off with a sigh, a short, frustrated noise.

He swallowed thickly as he contemplated how he was supposed to handle this, wetting his lips with his tongue before turning back over to face Gale. It was still dark in the room, but it was impossible to miss how mortified Gale looked; his cheeks flushed, and doing everything he could to avoid his gaze, “Is that why you didn't want me touching you? So I wouldn't feel that?” He asked.

“I'm not some kind of pervert, John.” Gale hissed, finally glancing back up at him, “I don't lay here every night, waiting for you to fall asleep, just so I can..” He trailed off, dropping his gaze again.

He swallowed again, trying with everything he had to not let himself think of Gale quietly jerking himself off next to him while he slept. He didn't think he'd ever get that image out of his head if he let himself think about it, and the last thing they needed here was him popping a hard-on too and making everything worse.

He suddenly understood what Gale's problem had been, though. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with the idea of him touching him, it was that he hadn't wanted him to come too close and realize what was going on. It was that he hadn't wanted to make him uncomfortable.

That was a notion that he couldn't quite wrap his head around, though, because the idea that Gale could ever make him feel uncomfortable was just ridiculous. Especially not with something like this.

Still, he had to remind himself that he had always kept his feelings for Gale strictly to himself. Gale probably thought that he would take issue with it, and that he'd be horrified upon realizing that he was hard while they were sharing a bunk.

That really couldn't have been further from the truth, though.

“It's nothing to be embarrassed about.” He said softly, shrugging his shoulders, “It just.. it happens sometimes. We've all been there.”

It wasn't as if it was completely heard of. Even he struggled with it sometimes, and he hadn't been completely celibate since leaving the States; not like he knew Gale had been. There'd been plenty of women around when they'd been stationed at Thorpe Abbotts, and so he'd managed to get it out of his system from time to time. He knew that Gale had been nothing but faithful to Marge since they'd left home, though, and so it was no wonder really that he was feeling a little worked up.

Gale just scoffed, shaking his head, “Right.”

“It's not.” He insisted, ducking his head to try and catch Gale's eye, “I don't mind.”

“How could you not mind?” Gale asked, finally looking at him, “It's.. it's wrong, and I-”

“Gale.” He whispered, cutting him off. He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to hear Gale insist that it was bad, or that it was dirty, or that there was something wrong with him for it; not when that couldn't be further from how he felt about the whole situation. So, heart hammering in his chest, he pressed his leg forward to let his knee gently slide against Gale's crotch, “I said I don't mind.”

He certainly hadn't planned this, but Gale seemed to be on the verge of freaking out and just going back to his own bunk, so that he wouldn't have to deal with this. Like he'd just said, though, he didn't mind. Not in the slightest.

He really had no idea how this was going to go. Gale hadn't pushed him away yet, but that didn't mean that he wasn't about to. For maybe the first time in his life, he found himself completely unable to decipher the expression on Gale's face, and it was slightly terrifying, because he had no idea if he had just ruined this whole thing.

“John..” Gale eventually whispered, his gaze dropping to where his knee was still pressed against him, before looking back up at him.

“Tell me to stop, and I'll stop.” He breathed, letting his leg press forward a little more until he could slide his thigh against Gale's hard cock. It wasn't much, but he knew that even the slight friction would feel good.

Still, he wasn't about to do anything that Gale really didn't want him to do. The last thing he wanted was to end up feeling like he had taken advantage of Gale, or worse; for Gale to feel like he'd taken advantage of him. He didn't think he'd be able to live with himself afterwards, and while Gale hadn't pushed him away just yet, he still looked vaguely terrified, and so he tilted his head slightly to catch Gale's eye, raising his eyebrows at him, “Buck?”

“Don't stop.” Gale eventually whispered, reaching out to lightly touch his waist with shaky fingers.

That was enough for him, and so he let his thigh press a little more firmly against Gale's cock, his own breath catching in his throat as he did. This was literally the last thing that he'd imagined would happen tonight, and he still wasn't totally convinced that he wasn't dreaming.

How long had he wanted Gale like this? How long had he wanted some sort of excuse to touch Gale like this? For all that he'd imagined it, and had dreamt up hundreds of different scenarios in his head, he'd never imagined that it would happen here of all places. Still, he certainly wasn't naive enough to let himself believe that this was happening because Gale actually wanted him. It was convenient, was all. He was just helping Gale out, rather than leaving him to deal with it himself.

Gale exhaled a shaky breath as he tentatively rocked against his thigh, his fingers inching just underneath his sweater to press against the bare skin of his waist again, “I.. John, I-”

“I know, I know.” He whispered, winding his own arm around Gale's waist to pull him slightly closer, “Helping you out, is all.”

It was easy to let the words spill out, to reassure Gale that he was just giving him a helping hand. It wasn't hard to see that Gale hadn't quite let himself relax into this yet, and the last thing he wanted to do was frighten him off.

He didn't have the words to describe how long and how badly he'd wanted this, but he knew that giving that away wasn't a good idea. This wasn't about him or what he wanted; it was just about giving Gale some sort of relief so that he'd be able to sleep. That's all this was.

Gale nodded, seemingly satisfied with his words, although a soft gasp caught in his throat as they moved at the same time; as he pressed his thigh up between Gale's legs again just as Gale rocked down against him.

God, that was.. he couldn't even describe how he felt right now. Gale's cheeks were still flushed, although he couldn't tell if it was still purely from embarrassment, or if it was simply from arousal now. Either way, he looked so goddamn beautiful, and he knew there was no point in even trying to pretend that he wasn't hard by now too. He didn't see the point in trying to hide it, either.

“That feel good?” He asked, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. They couldn't risk waking any of the other guys, and so he knew that they had to keep quiet. That only added to the thrill, though, to know that they were doing this in a room full of other people, who were oblivious as to what was happening in their bunk.

Gale nodded, sighing softly again, “Yeah, feels..” He trailed off, rocking his hips down against his thigh again.

“Tell me.” He whispered.

“Feels so good.” Gale sighed, pressing his fingers in a little harder where he was still holding onto his waist, “Please, John.. I need-”

“I know what you need, I got you.” He whispered.

He refused to let himself think too hard about it as he pulled Gale closer, sliding his thigh between both of Gale's to slot their hips together properly. Like this, they could grind against each other, and while that might have been pushing it a little far; he found it hard to think about that when it felt this good. He could insist all he wanted that this was simply about helping Gale out, but he didn't feel bad about letting himself have this.

“This alright?” He asked softly, his arm still around Gale's waist as he rolled their hips together.

Gale just nodded, a soft whimper slipping from his throat, “Yeah.. don't stop.”

He almost didn't know where he was supposed to look as he and Gale rocked against each other, their bodies moving together in a slow grind that had that heat and arousal pulling tight in his stomach. Gale was right there, his face barely inches from his own, although it felt almost too intimate to let himself look into Gale's eyes.

He was under no impressions; he knew that this wasn't him and Gale simply sleeping with each other because they'd given into their feelings for each other. It was just.. taking what they both needed from somebody who was willing to give it. Still, even though he knew that, the way he felt about Gale was.. well, he knew just how deeply he felt for Gale, how deeply he'd always felt for him. It would have been so easy to close his eyes and pretend that it was different; that Gale was doing this simply because he wanted him.

Still, he knew that this probably wouldn't ever happen again, and so he didn't want to end up missing a single second of it. To close his eyes meant that it could have been anybody pressed up against him like this, and he didn't want that. He wanted to commit every last detail to memory, rather than simply giving himself over to how good it felt.

He wanted to remember the hot and heavy look in Gale's eyes as they moved together, he wanted to remember every tiny sound that he made. He wanted to be able to remember this for the rest of his life; however long or short that might be.

He slid a hand down the length of Gale's thigh so that he could pull his leg up over his hip, pressing his own thigh a little more firmly between Gale's legs. It felt so goddamn good to be pressed up against each other like this, and he couldn't help the quiet moan that spilled from his throat as they moved against each other.

“Shh.. gotta stay quiet.” Gale whispered, wrapping his leg a little more securely around his hip.

He huffed softly, closing his eyes as he leaned in to press his forehead against Gale's, “Easy for you to say.” He murmured.

“You think?”

He bit back a soft huff of laughter, letting his forehead roll against Gale's as he shifted slightly in an attempt to press in even closer.

With how their hips were pressed tight together, he could feel Gale's hard cock pressed against his own as they moved together, and it took every ounce of his restraint to keep his hands where they were; one on Gale's thigh to keep his leg up around his hip, the other one trapped between the thin mattress and Gale's shoulder.

He couldn't even describe how badly he wanted to touch Gale properly. If they'd been anywhere other than here, he would have slowly stripped Gale out of his clothes to leave them both naked. He would have used his hands, and his mouth, and his own cock to make Gale feel good; in a way that he was sure nobody had made him feel before. He knew that he couldn't, though. He knew that to even touch Gale's cock right now would probably make it feel a little too real for the other man, and he was still afraid of doing anything that might frighten him off. So, this was more than enough.

“God, Buck, that's..” He trailed off, a soft moan catching in his throat again as he let his gaze trail back up to Gale's face.

Gale was already looking at him, his blue eyes dark with arousal and something that looked suspiciously like want. He'd never imagined that he'd get to experience Gale looking at him like that; like they were the only two people in the world, like he was the only thing that mattered to him. He was almost sure that he was interpreting it wrong, though, because the idea of Gale actually wanting him like that was, well.. he knew that that wasn't the case.

He couldn't help but wish that they weren't in almost complete darkness, though, because he wanted to really look at Gale. He needed to be able to remember every single detail of this, down to the way that Gale's gaze flicked down to his lips for a brief moment, before looking back up at him. In saying that, though, if he let himself focus on that detail for too long, then he knew he'd only end up doing something that they couldn't come back from. It was best he didn't dwell on it.

“Please, Bucky.. I need..” Gale whispered, sliding his hands along his waist underneath his sweater, as though he was trying to pull him closer, even though they were already pressed right up against each other.

“I know, baby. I know. I got you.”

He used his weight to roll them over, his hand still cupped around the back of Gale's knee to keep his leg up around his hip as he pressed Gale back against the mattress, before settling on top of him. He braced his other forearm on the pillow next to Gale's head, a soft gasp spilling from his throat as he started to move again.

Jesus Christ, that was.. he didn't think it could feel any better than it already had, but like this, it felt like he and Gale were pressed even impossibly closer together, and he really didn't know how he was supposed to handle that.

He was between Gale's legs now; one of Gale's legs still hitched up around his hips, the other pressed up against the side of his body. It felt even more intense than it had before, though; and pressed up against each other like this, he could feel Gale's hard cock pressed right up against his own as he rolled their hips together. It felt so goddamn good to be able to feel just how turned on Gale was, and while he knew that it wasn't because of him; he was still the one who got to do something about it.

Like this, it was easy to pretend that everything was different. It was easy to pretend that he was actually fucking Gale, despite the fact that they were both still fully clothed.

Gale scraped his fingers down the length of his back as they moved together, his fingers pressing in hard enough to his bare skin that he almost hoped it would leave scratches. He wanted some sort of physical evidence to prove that this had happened, and that it wasn't something that his mind had simply dreamt up while he was asleep.

Still, he knew that there was only so much that he could dream up himself. For as much and as often as he'd imagined this happening, it didn't even begin to compare to the real thing. Like this, Gale was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen; the soft sounds that he was making, the way that he was trembling underneath him as they moved against each other. His own fantasies didn't even come close to the real thing.

“You feel so goddamn good.” He sighed, leaning down close so that he could whisper the words in Gale's ear.

He felt completely enveloped in Gale, and it really was everything that he had ever wanted. His mind was completely blank, filled with nothing but the thoughts of Gale, Gale, Gale. The feeling of Gale's legs around his hips, his fingers on his bare skin, the way that he gasped softly as they rolled their hips together. He didn't think anything had ever felt as good.

With how close they were pressed together, he could smell the rich, heady scent of Gale's sweat, and he couldn't help but press his face in against the hollow of Gale's neck, inhaling deeply. It made him never want to move from here, honestly. It made him want to burrow into the crook of Gale's neck and stay there for the rest of his life.

The only word that he could use to describe how this felt was intense. Gale was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and the way he looked, the way he sounded, even the way he smelled; it made his head swim with lust, and desire, and hunger for the other man.

Gale moaned softly, the quiet sound slipping out despite his obvious best efforts to keep quiet. It was such a turn on to know that he was making Gale feel this good; that it was his touch, and his body pressed against Gale's that had the other man moaning and trembling like this.

“Gotta keep quiet, doll.” He teased, the pet name slipping out as he gently scraped his teeth along the taut tendon of Gale's neck. He knew he couldn't leave marks, and so it took every bit of his restraint not to suck at the warm, salty skin of Gale's neck, to taste him the way he wanted to.

As much as he knew they had to stay quiet, it felt almost intoxicating to know that Gale didn't seem to be capable of it by now. He wasn't worrying too hard about it, though. He just hoped that, if they had woken anybody else, that they assumed it was just one of them jerking off while the other slept. The makeshift curtain was down, and so it wasn't as if anybody could see them. Nobody had to know that they were doing this together.

Gale moaned softly again at the pet name, his back arching up off the bunk to press even closer to him, “Please, John.. that's.. you feel so good.”

“You like that? You like when I call you doll?” He asked, leaning up to whisper the words in Gale's ear again, “What about baby? You'd let me call you my baby?” He barely realized what he was saying, too caught up in the sensation of it all, and how good it all felt.

Waking up this morning, he never could have imagined that he would end up here; moaning softly against Gale's neck as he humped against the other man like a dog in heat. If he'd been in any frame of mind to share his inner monologue right now, Gale would have laughed at that, because it wasn't the first time that he'd been compared to a dog, to Gale's dog.

He always came when Gale called, and did whatever it was that Gale asked of him. Come, heel, sit, stay, bite. Anything Gale asked, he’d do without question, and he knew that he and Gale weren't the only two people who knew that. It was no secret that he was hopelessly devoted to Gale, although he was almost sure that he'd done a good job of keeping quiet about just how devoted he was to him, how deeply he felt for him.

At this point, Gale seemed to be past the point of doing anything other than panting as he rolled his hips up again, their bodies moving together in that rhythm that had flames of pleasure licking up his spine every time that he rocked his own hips down against Gale's body.

“Say it again.” Gale sighed, shivering against him as he pressed his head back into the pillow, still clutching at his back to hold him close.

“Say what?”

“That.. just, fuck.” Gale gasped.

“What, doll?” He asked, letting the tip of his nose trail feather light up the length of Gale's neck.

The only response from Gale was a quiet whine, his hips rolling up to meet his again, and so he grinned as he grazed Gale's neck with his teeth, slowing the rhythm of his hips until they were grinding each other almost painfully slowly.

“Knew you liked it.” He teased, his breath warm against the side of Gale's neck as he pressed slow, open mouthed kisses to his skin, “You are a doll, though, you're my doll. My babydoll.”

Gale moaned softly again at his words, sliding his calf against his ass to keep them pressed close together, to keep them entwined as he rolled his own hips up again, “Just like that.. God, good boy.” He sighed.

Without taking a moment to think about what he was doing, he leaned back up to press his lips to Gale's in a hard kiss, cupping his jaw in his hand.

He knew that actually kissing Gale was crossing a line, that it was turning this into something that it wasn't; something it was never going to be. He couldn't help it, though. It was hard enough to keep a level head with how good this felt, but hearing Gale call him a good boy, hearing how much Gale liked it when he called him babydoll; it made him feel as though his brain was backfiring.

Thankfully, Gale didn't seem to be phased by the kiss. He simply moaned into his mouth as he leaned up into it, letting a hand slide up to cup around the nape of his neck.

That was.. God, if he thought that it was good before, then he didn't have the words now to describe just how good it felt now, with Gale's lips pressed against his own. He'd been dreaming of this for as long as he could remember, and so despite the fact that Gale hadn't even touched his cock, it still felt like the best sex he'd ever had.

Still, he knew that whatever hope he'd had before of telling himself that this didn't mean anything, or that he was just giving Gale a helping hand, there was no point in even trying to pretend now that this wasn't everything he'd ever wanted. He was having sex with Gale, and while he knew deep down that it didn't mean anything to Gale, it was easy to pretend otherwise. It was easy to let himself be selfish, and take what he wanted; purely because he loved Gale, and he wanted this with him.

He couldn't help the soft noise that spilled from his throat as the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against Gale's in a way that had the heat pulling tight in his stomach. He knew he shouldn't have let it get this far, he knew that they should rein it back a little, but he couldn't find it in himself to want to stop. If this was his one opportunity to have this, then he was going to push it as far as he could.

He let the pace slow down again, grinding his hips against Gale's as he delved his tongue into Gale's mouth. He couldn't ignore how intimate this felt; to be wrapped in each other like this as they moved together, with Gale gently stroking his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Honestly, he could have stayed here forever, letting himself become familiar with the taste and texture of Gale's mouth as their lips and tongues slowly slid together.

He knew that he didn't have long left in him. It just felt too damn good, and he knew that it was only heightened because of who he was with. He was sure that, after this long, sex with anybody would have felt pretty damn good, but knowing that it was Gale underneath him just made it feel so much better. He could tell that Gale was getting close too; it was obvious in the way that he was trembling and whimpering underneath him, still clutching at his body to pull him closer.

He would have liked to drag this out for as long as possible, but he knew that that wasn't an option. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn't come in his skivvies almost as soon as he and Gale had first pressed against each other.

So, after one last slow, intense kiss, he let his teeth catch Gale's lower lip for a moment, before pulling away from him so that he could lean down and whisper into his ear again, “I'm so close, doll.” He breathed, rolling his hips again, “Can you feel how hard I am for you? God, the things I'd do to you if I had you in a proper bed right now.”

He knew he was veering into dangerous territory here, but he really couldn't have cared less right now. Gale could pretend all he liked that this didn't mean anything, and that it was simply about getting off, but how was he supposed to act as if that was still the case for him? He wasn't sure how he was supposed to pretend that this didn't mean everything to him.

Thankfully, Gale was either too far gone to realize what he'd said, or he was just choosing to ignore it, but he simply moaned softly as he dropped his head back against the pillow, “Me too, I'm‐ God, I'm gonna come.”

“Come on, you can let go.” He whispered, leaning back down to press another open mouthed kiss to the hollow of Gale's neck, “I want you to come for me, baby.”

That was evidently all it took to push Gale over the edge, and he gasped again as he arched his back up off the bed, his fingers digging into his skin where he was still holding onto his back. He looked.. God, he looked so beautiful. His eyes were closed, his cheeks flushed as he gave himself over to the pleasure of his orgasm.

He was right behind him; the sight of Gale as he finished just enough to push him over the edge. He moaned softly against the warm, sweat-slick skin of Gale's neck, clutching at the other man as he finally spilled into his own skivvies. That was.. Jesus Christ, he couldn't remember the last time that anything had felt that good.

They were both silent for a moment after they'd finished, still trembling against each other as they slowly came down from their high.

He could feel Gale's fingers still in his hair, gently scratching at the nape of his neck, and it made him want to just melt into the other man's touch. It made him want to fall asleep like this; still on top of Gale, with Gale's legs still wrapped loosely around his hips, breathing in the deep, heady scent that couldn't be anything other than Gale.

He knew that they couldn't, though. It wasn't unusual for the guards to drag them out of their bunks in the middle of the night in order to do a headcount and search the bunkrooms, and he didn't even want to think about what the consequences might be if they were caught like this. He knew they had to just consider themselves lucky that they hadn't already been caught out tonight.

He eventually made himself pull away from Gale, laying just next to him again. Their legs were still entwined further down the bed, though, and he was almost sure that Gale would be able to feel his breath against his cheek, with how close they were laying.

His mind was still feeling a little fuzzy from the intensity of his orgasm, and he could see that Gale was obviously feeling the same way, and so he let himself simply look for a moment; let himself really look at Gale, in a way that he'd never let himself do before.

Gale looked like a fucking dream, honestly. His hair was in disarray, and that flush was still high on his cheeks. His chest was still heaving slightly as he attempted to catch his breath, and he still couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that it was because of him; that it was his touch and his body that had Gale looking so thoroughly worn-out.

“Should probably clean up a little.” He eventually whispered, just because he didn't know what else he was supposed to say. Gale wasn't freaking out yet, but that didn't mean that it wasn't about to happen. He knew how Gale's mind worked, and that didn't bode too well for him right now.

Gale turned his head to look at him, blinking lazily at him, “Yeah.” He said softly, before seeming to realize what he'd said, “Uh.. how-”

“Here.” He murmured, sitting up as well as he could in the confined space of the bunk. They weren't allowed to leave the combine during lights out, and so going down to the shower facilities to wash up was out of the question. They'd have to just make do with what they had.

So, he grabbed one of his spare shirts from the end of the bunk, handing it over to Gale so that he could give himself a quick, perfunctory clean up. It wasn't much, and it certainly wouldn't do a good enough job, but the alternative was to just do nothing until the morning, and he knew that having to go to sleep while feeling even more unclean than he had before would be just asking for Gale to freak out about what they'd done.

Gale didn't say anything as he took the shirt, and so he simply turned over onto his back, doing his best to give Gale some sort of privacy as he cleaned himself up.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he stared up at the bottom of the bunk above him, although he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

He had finally gotten everything that he had ever wanted, but it had left him not really knowing where he and Gale stood. What if Gale came to his senses while he was sleeping, and he woke up to find himself alone in the bunk, with Gale doing his best to avoid him?

He had finally gotten everything he'd ever wanted, but what if it came at the cost of his and Gale's friendship? The worst possible outcome of this was that he'd end up losing Gale over it, and he had a horrible feeling that that might not be such an unlikely scenario.

He just didn't know what he was supposed to say in order to make sure that everything was still okay, which he could admit was a first for him. He was usually an expert on filling silences with empty words, and talking simply for the sake of talking, but this was different. It felt fragile, as though he was going to ruin everything if he said anything at all.

He was dragged back to the present moment by Gale gently nudging his elbow with his own, and he glanced over to find Gale holding the shirt out to him, “Thanks.” He murmured.

He took the shirt, refusing to let himself think about Gale's presence next to him as he unbuttoned his pants so that he could shove the shirt down into his skivvies, cleaning himself up as well as he could. It really wasn't enough, and he knew that he'd probably still wake up tomorrow morning feeling sticky and uncomfortable, but that was a problem to deal with in the morning.

If nothing else, cleaning himself up like this was an excuse to not have to look at Gale for a little longer, just because he was almost afraid of what he'd find when he did.

Once he'd done as good a job as he was going to do, he tossed the shirt down the end of the bunk to be dealt with tomorrow, before swallowing thickly as he finally turned back onto his side to face Gale, “You good?” He asked softly.

Gale just nodded, although there was something in his eyes that he didn't like, something that looked a little guarded, “Yeah.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” He echoed, fighting to keep his gaze from dropping to Gale's lips as the other man chewed nervously at the lower one.

He couldn't help but think of how those lips had felt pressed against his own, and he couldn't help but want to do it again. He knew that was out of the question, though, and so he simply shuffled a little closer on the pillow. He knew that he was pushing his luck, but he ducked down slightly to lightly flick the tip of his nose against Gale's shoulder, “Should try and get some sleep, Santa won't come if you're up all night.” He whispered, attempting to lighten the mood.

Gale nodded again, although he thankfully gave him a small smile as he tucked himself in slightly closer to his side, before turning over onto his own side, facing away from him.

He still wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation between himself and Gale right now. The other man didn’t seem to be particularly perturbed by what they'd done, but that didn't really mean anything. He knew that Gale was good at hiding his feelings and covering up how he really felt, and so he knew that there was no guarantee that Gale wasn't freaking out on the inside.

Still, at least Gale hadn't insisted that he should go back to his own bunk. They might have been sitting on slightly rocky territory, but Gale was still here. He wasn't facing him, but he was still pressed against his side, and so he'd take that as a good sign.

He turned over onto his own side, curling up close behind Gale. He didn't chance wrapping Gale in his arms, the way he really wanted to, but he was close enough to him that he could feel Gale's hair tickling his nose, and his knees were pressed to the back of Gale's knees, their bodies curled close together. They weren't quite spooning, but it was something. It was nice.

He knew that they'd probably have to face what they'd done tomorrow, but he didn't want to think about that right now. The only thing that mattered to him right now was the fact that Gale was still here, and that he was happy to curl up with his back pressed against his front.

So, he did his best to push any thoughts of tomorrow from his mind as he pressed his face in against Gale's hair, willing sleep to come to him.

The next morning, he couldn't say he was all too surprised when he woke up to find himself alone in the bunk.

It took him a moment to recall the events from the night before, but once he did, his stomach turned uncomfortably when he turned back over to find that Gale was nowhere to be seen.

Checking his watch, he found that it was still early enough, but not so early that they weren't allowed to leave the combine yet, and so he tried his best not to panic about the fact that Gale had already gotten up. He had probably just gone down to the shower facilities to clean himself up a little better, he wasn't necessarily panicking over what they had done and deliberately made himself scarce.

He hoped so anyway, because he couldn't stand the thought of Gale doing his best to avoid him.

He and Gale had left things on relatively good terms last night, though. They hadn't exactly spoken about what they'd done, but Gale had still pressed back against his body in order to seek warmth from him during the night, and he hadn't pulled away when he had curled in close to press his face in against the back of his neck.

He just hoped that, in the time since Gale had woken up and had left the bunk, that he hadn't done too much thinking about what they'd done, and that he hadn't managed to convince himself that it was wrong, and bad, and dirty. It wasn't, and so he just hoped that Gale hadn't told himself that it was.

Honestly, as far as he was concerned, last night had been everything that he'd ever dreamt of. Sure, like he'd said, he and Gale had still been fully clothed, and the most they had done was grind against each other, but he just.. that didn't matter to him. Getting to be with Gale at all made it all worth it, and he knew that he'd never regret a single thing that they'd done last night.

“Hey, Bucky.”

He looked over at the sound of his name, finding Brady half sat up in his own bunk, and the younger man waved over in his direction, “Hey.” He said softly, scratching a hand through his hair as he pushed himself up onto an elbow.

“Merry Christmas.” Brady said, tossing a folded piece of paper over in his direction.

He picked up the paper from where it had landed next to him on the bunk, opening it up to find that it was an attempt at a handmade Christmas card. It wasn't much; a piece of paper folded over with a Christmas tree drawn in pencil on the front, and a short To Bucky. Merry Christmas, from Johnny written on the inside, but it was nice that Brady had thought to do it, especially when there wasn't going to be much celebrating this year.

“Thanks, Johnny. Merry Christmas.” He said with a small smile. Brady had always been a good friend to him, and even though he'd never said as much; he'd forever be grateful for the fact that he'd made him jump first when their fort was going down. Otherwise, he couldn't say for sure that he would have jumped at all. Still, he didn't like to think about it.

“Hey, you seen Buck this morning?” He asked.

There weren't many places that they could go, but he figured he'd ask anyway. He just hoped that, wherever Gale had gone, that it was somewhere they might be able to talk. Maybe bringing it up was a bad idea, but he wanted to at least clear the air, and make sure that Gale wasn't completely freaking out on him.

Brady glanced back over at him, before shrugging his shoulders, “He got up a little while ago, think he went down to the showers.”

“Alright.” He said with a nod, “If he comes back while I'm gone, tell him I was looking for him?”

Brady nodded, “Yeah, will do.”

He clambered down off his bunk then as Brady went back to his own devices, although he tried his best not to grimace at the dried mess in his skivvies. He knew that only just cleaning themselves up with his shirt last night hadn't been the best idea, but it wasn't as if they'd had much of a choice. It was either that, or go to sleep without cleaning themselves up at all.

Speaking of which, the shirt that they'd used was nowhere to be seen, even though he'd left it down the end of the bunk. He guessed that Gale had probably taken it with him when he'd gone to the shower, in order to give it a wash.

He quickly got his things together, grabbing his last somewhat clean shirt, as well as a change of skivvies. His pants would last another couple of days before really needing to be washed, and so he'd just make do. As well as the change of clothes, he grabbed his gloves, and the chocolate bar that he'd been keeping for Gale. He had a feeling that he knew where Gale might be, and so he'd head straight there after he'd cleaned up.

As he made his way from the combine to the washroom, though, he couldn't say that he was particularly looking forward to having to clean up. He knew that he probably wouldn't feel overly clean unless he managed a proper shower, and while there were showers here; the water was always icy cold, and it dribbled out of the faucet. Still, it was better than nothing.

It seemed Gale had already finished up and left before he'd gotten there, and he actually found himself pretty relieved for that. He knew that he and Gale had to talk at some point today, but he didn't want it to be while they were both naked and attempting to clean themselves of the mess they'd made last night. They could talk after.

He quickly stripped off, before stepping under the shower. Like he'd known it would be, the water was freezing cold, and so he didn't bother wasting time, just rinsed himself down as well as he could.

He didn't regret giving Gale the last of his soap the other day, but he could admit that it made for a less than pleasant experience now. If he never had to clean dried come off of himself with nothing more than cold water, then he was more than fine with that.

He quickly dried off and dressed again once he'd cleaned himself up as well as he was going to, although he found himself wishing not for the first time that their winter clothes were a little heavier. His sweater was a little better than just a shirt, but it still wasn't a whole lot to keep warm.

Once he'd finished dressing, he figured that he'd head straight for the library. He had a feeling that Gale might be there, and he hoped that he was right. This early, he knew that the library would be pretty abandoned, and so he hoped that he might get lucky, and find Gale there by himself.

Still, as he walked there, he couldn't ignore the nerves twisting in his stomach. What if Gale didn't want to talk to him? He knew that it was a pretty likely possibility, but it was one that he didn't want to consider. They'd be fine, they had to be. He and Gale had gotten through worse than this, and so all he could do was try and tell himself that they'd be fine.

Letting himself into the library, he breathed a sigh of relief when he found Gale sat at the small table in the middle of the room, his cheek propped in his hand as he read whatever book he'd settled on. He was relieved to find that he was alone, too.

Gale hadn't noticed him yet, too caught up in his book, and he couldn't help the faint smile that pulled at his lips as he watched him. Gale's hair was still slightly damp from his own shower, and his cheeks and nose were flushed slightly pink with the cold. He looked beautiful, though, and he tried his best not to get too distracted by the thoughts of how Gale's lips had felt pressed against his own last night, or the way he had scraped his fingers down his back, or the soft sounds that he'd made as he came. He couldn't let himself think about any of that right now.

So, he simply knocked at the door frame, giving Gale a small smile when he looked up at the sound, “Hey.”

Gale smiled back, although it looked a little bit tight, a little bit nervous, “Hey, you survived.”

“Survived what?” He asked.

“Brady.” Gale said with a shrug, “He said earlier that he was gonna smother you with your pillow if you didn't quit snoring.”

He couldn't help but laugh, stepping a little further into the room, “And here I thought he was being nice, giving me a Christmas card.”

Gale nodded, “Yeah, I got one too. Think he was up all morning making ‘em.”

He just smiled, letting himself lean against the edge of the table. He wasn't really sure what he was supposed to think here. Gale didn't seem too uneasy, but he knew that he was good at masking how he felt. He'd just never expected to be on the receiving end of that. Still, maybe everything was okay, maybe Gale wasn't actually freaking out.

So, he held out the pair of gloves, as well as the chocolate bar that he'd brought with him, “Merry Christmas, Buck.” He said softly, “Didn't have a bow or anything, so.. sorry they're not wrapped.”

Gale just looked at the gift for a moment, before looking back up at him, “What's this?” He asked.

“Your Christmas present.” He said, biting his lip gently, “I know it's not much, but I.. wanted to give you something, y’know? Since it's your birthday in two days too, and all that.”

Gale didn't say anything for a moment, although he eventually shook his head, a frown crossing his face, “I can't take these, John. They're your gloves.” He said softly.

“Yeah, but you need ‘em more than me. Did you forget how cold your hands were last night?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

He had only planned on giving Gale the chocolate bar, but after feeling how cold Gale's hands had been last night, and especially after finding out that he had traded his own gloves away, he figured that this was the least he could do for him.

Gale looked back down at his book, his cheeks flushing slightly at the mention of last night. He shook his head again after a moment, though, glancing back up at him, “I can't, John.”

“What, ‘cause of last night?” He asked.

He hadn't planned on just diving straight into it, but he couldn't let Gale use that as an excuse to not take the gifts. They could sweep it under the rug and pretend that it hadn't happened if that was what Gale really wanted, but he refused to let it change anything between them. Before, he knew that, aside from a perfunctory complaint about how he didn't have to do this, Gale would have just taken the gifts. He would have thanked him for the gloves, and he would have shared the chocolate bar with him, and that would be that.

Gale's cheeks flushed again, his jaw working as he tried to figure out what to say, “Last night was.. it was a mistake. It didn't mean anything, and it should never have happened.”

He sighed, his stomach dropping at the conviction with which Gale claimed that last night had been a mistake, and that it hadn't meant anything.

Sure, he'd known that it wasn't a good idea, and he had tried telling himself all along that it didn't actually mean a thing, but how was he supposed to pretend that that was the case? Last night had felt like probably the most important sex he'd ever had in his life, and so he couldn't stand here and pretend that it hadn't meant anything to him.

“That's really what you think? That it just.. didn't mean a thing?” He asked.

“It didn't.” Gale insisted, looking up at him. His cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment, but he had the steely set to his jaw that he didn't like; the one that said that he wasn't going to budge.

He scoffed, shaking his head, “How can you say that?” He asked, “How can you sit there and act as if it didn't mean anything?”

“John-”

“No, I-” He cut himself off, sighing again. He didn't even know what he was supposed to say, how he was supposed to tell Gale that it had meant something to him, “Is it because of Marge?” He asked, “Is that it? You feel guilty?”

He hated to bring her up right now, but he just needed to know. Sure, he'd been expecting Gale to freak out this morning, but he had seemed so into it last night, and so he wasn't sure how he could sit here and claim that it hadn't meant anything. The only thing he could think of was that Gale was feeling guilty over being unfaithful to Marge, and he was trying to lessen that.

“It's not because of Marge.” Gale said, “It's..”

“Then what? ‘Cause you can say it was a mistake all you want, but don't tell me that it didn't mean anything, because it-”

“Because you shouldn't have had to.. do that.” Gale snapped, before shaking his head again as he slumped back into his seat, “I took advantage of you. I should've.. I should have just gone back to my own bunk, so you wouldn't have felt as though you had to do that.”

For a moment, he simply looked at Gale, because he almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did Gale really think that he'd taken advantage of him, and that last night hadn't been everything that he'd ever wanted? It was such a ridiculous idea that he almost couldn't take it seriously, but Gale's features were still twisted into an unhappy frown, and it seemed that he could barely even make himself look at him.

“You're serious? That's what you actually think?” He asked, before a huff of laughter bubbled out of his throat, “Buck, I- I didn't do anything last night that I didn't want to do, that I haven't wanted to do for.. I can't even remember how long.”

He hadn't planned on admitting that to Gale any time soon, but he couldn't leave it like this. He couldn't just walk out of here and leave Gale thinking that he'd taken advantage of him last night. If anything, he had worried about it being the other way around, and so he couldn't just stand here and say nothing.

Gale looked up at him, a frown crossing his face, “You.. what?” He asked.

“It meant something to me.” He said softly, trying to ignore the nerves twisting in his stomach again, “Ever since I met you, I've..” He trailed off, huffing softly, “I don't know, Buck. I wanted it, I've always wanted it.”

“Come on, John.” Gale sighed, and it looked as if he didn't know what he wanted to do with himself; whether he wanted to continue this conversation, or whether he wanted to be literally anywhere other than here.

“Why'd you think I kissed you, huh? Why'd you think I did any of that if it wasn't what I wanted?”

“That's just this place talking, John.” Gale said softly, “It's been a long time, for both of us, and we got caught up doing something we shouldn't have done, and y-”

“I love you.”

He felt as if he could have been sick once the words were out, but he couldn't do this. He couldn't stand here and let Gale try and talk him out of something that he knew he wanted. If Gale didn't feel the same way, then that was something he'd just have to deal with, but he needed to give him the whole story.

Gale just looked at him, and it was impossible to even try and decipher the expression on his face.

“I've been in love with you since we were in flight school.” He admitted, a huff of laughter spilling from him, even as he swallowed around the lump in his throat, “So don't try and tell me that it didn't mean anything, ‘cause I know how I feel, and I know what I want. Maybe it didn't mean anything to you, but I-”

He was cut off when Gale stood up from his seat and crossed the distance between them to pull him into a hard kiss, the force of it enough to have him staggering back a couple of steps, his back colliding with the bookshelf behind him.

For a moment, he simply froze, caught off guard by what was happening. It didn't take him long to catch up, though, and he dropped his hands to Gale's hips to pull him closer as he kissed him back.

This was.. he couldn't quite believe that this was actually happening. He'd been so afraid of what the outcome of this conversation would be; he'd been so afraid of Gale feeling like he couldn't be around him anymore, of Gale being disgusted by what they'd done last night. For some reason, this outcome hadn't been on his radar, and he barely had the words to describe how grateful he was.

He lifted one hand to fit it around the curve of Gale's jaw as they kissed, before stepping away from the bookshelf so that he could turn them around, pressing Gale back against the shelf.

Like this, he had a slight height advantage on the other man, and it felt so good to crowd up against Gale like this, to feel the way that he had to raise up slightly onto his toes in order to reach him. They were very nearly the same height, though, and that was something he wasn't used to.

Gale's lips were soft but slightly chapped against his own as their mouths moved together, and he couldn't help the soft noise that spilled from his throat as he parted his lips to Gale's tongue, meeting it with his own.

Last night, he'd been too caught up in the pleasure of what they were doing to really take in just how good it was to kiss Gale like this. Now, all he wanted was to sink into it. He could feel Gale's fingers shaking where he was still holding onto the front of his sweater, but he understood that this was all just a little bit overwhelming. He felt it too, and so he didn't see a reason to stop.

Dropping both of his hands back down, he slid them underneath the end of Gale's sweater, pressing his fingers to the bare skin of Gale's waist. He hadn't really gotten a chance to touch him last night, and now, he never wanted to stop. He wanted to press his thigh between both of Gale's again and see what other noises he could get him to make that he hadn't heard last night. He wanted to sink to his knees between Gale's legs and taste him. He wanted everything.

As if he could read his mind, Gale pulled back from the kiss, exhaling a shaky breath as he leaned his forehead against his, “Wait, John, I.. we can't do this here.” He whispered.

He pulled back just far enough to look at Gale, biting his lip gently, “We can't do it here, or we can't do it at all?” He asked. He didn't want to consider the possibility that Gale was already backtracking here, but he knew that it wasn't impossible. Maybe Gale had been just as caught off by that kiss as he'd been.

Gale just looked up at him, before lifting a hand to gently brush his fingers against his cheek, “We can't do it here.” He said softly, “Anyone could walk by and see, and I..”

“I know.” He murmured, leaning into Gale's touch.

He got it, he knew that they were fucked if anyone walked by and saw them all over each other. The best case scenario was that it was one of their guys, but if it was anybody else? If it was one of the guards? He didn't even want to think of what the consequences might be.

Still, it almost felt like there was a weight lifted off his chest at the fact that Gale had said that they just couldn't do it here, and not that they couldn't do it at all. It gave him a bit of hope that maybe it would all be okay.

So, he glanced back to make sure that there was nobody out in the corridor, before taking the front of Gale's sweater and walking him back to the other corner of the room, so that they were next to the doorway, rather than in front of it. At least here, nobody would see them if they were simply walking by.

He cupped Gale's face in between his hands, leaning in to press their lips together again. This kiss was softer, sweeter, and it wasn't much more than the simple press of Gale's mouth against his own. It was the kind of kiss that he had always imagined sharing with Gale.

He pulled back after a moment, lightly flicking his nose against Gale's, “It meant something to me.” He whispered, letting his thumb gently trace the silvery scar on Gale's cheek, “It's always meant something to me.”

“I didn't know.” Gale said softly, his hands on his hips to hold him close, “I thought.. I don't know, I thought I'd cornered you into it last night. I didn't know how I was supposed to face you this morning.” He admitted.

He smiled, closing his eyes as he leaned in to press his forehead against Gale's again, “I mean this with all the love in the world, but that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.” He teased.

Gale just huffed softly in response, sliding his arms around his waist again.

For a moment, they simply stood in silence, their eyes closed, their foreheads pressed together. He could feel Gale's hands pressed just underneath the end of his sweater, his fingers touching the bare skin of his waist. Honestly, he could have stayed here for the rest of his life, with he and Gale breathing the same air, and touching each other with gentle fingers.

“I love you too, by the way.” Gale murmured after a moment, “Just in case that wasn't clear.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” Gale said with a tiny smile.

He smiled back, although it dropped slightly after a moment, “What about Marge?” He asked.

It was no secret that Gale was planning on marrying her once they got home from the war, and he didn't think he'd ever forgive himself if he got in the way of that. Marge had always been a good friend to him, and so even though he'd never loved anybody the way he loved Gale, he didn't want to end up hurting her in the process.

In saying that, though, he didn't know how he was supposed to just let this go, now that he'd had a taste of what it was like to be with Gale. This was everything he'd ever wanted, and so he wasn't sure how he could just pretend that none of this had ever happened.

Gale frowned, although he didn't pull away from him, his fingers still lightly tracing patterns against the bare skin of his waist, “I don't know.” He said softly, “She's.. I'm going to marry her, John. I can't just leave her.”

“I know, I wouldn't want you to.” He admitted. He couldn't live with that on his conscience, and so he was relieved that Gale hadn't promised him that he'd leave Marge for him. He just wasn't sure where that left them.

Thankfully, though, Gale smiled again, even though it still looked a little bit unsure, “We'll figure it out, alright? We'll figure something out.”

“Yeah?”

“I'm tired of pretending I don't feel anything for you.” Gale admitted softly, “I don't want to give this up.”

He just smiled, closing his eyes as he leaned in to press his forehead against Gale's again. That was enough for him, to know that Gale felt the same way for him, and that he was willing to try.

He cupped Gale's chin in his hand, giving him one last soft kiss before pulling back just far enough to look at him again, “So will you please just take the gifts now?” He asked, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Gale huffed softly, rolling his eyes, “I'll take the chocolate.” He conceded, “And I want you to share it with me.”

“And the gloves?”

“They're your gloves, John. You'll need ‘em just as much as I would.” Gale said softly.

“I won't need them. I've got you to keep me warm.” He teased.

Gale rolled his eyes again, although it was impossible to miss the faint flush that coloured his cheeks, “Fine, but I'm making you take them back if you get cold.”

“I can live with that.” He huffed.

He knew that it would be weeks before the weather started to turn warm again, and that there probably would be the odd night here and there where he wished that he still had his gloves, but he meant what he'd said.

Gale could keep him warm on the particularly cold nights, and he was glad that they could use that as an excuse for when he simply wanted to be close to him. He knew that, on the freezing cold nights, that nobody would think twice about it if they found he and Gale curled up together.

He was glad that he wouldn't have to hide it from Gale either. Sure, he had never shied away from tucking himself in against his side when it was cold, but he'd always been afraid of crossing a line, of doing something that Gale wouldn't be comfortable with. Now, he was glad that it didn't have to be like that, that he could be open with Gale when it came to his feelings for him.

“What's wrong?” He asked, upon noticing the slightly downturned tilt to Gale's expression.

Gale just shrugged, before glancing back up at him, “I didn't get you a gift.”

It hadn't crossed his mind to even expect anything in return, mainly because the gifts he'd gotten Gale weren't anything to write home about. He'd just never considered the idea of not getting Gale anything, and especially because, as well as Christmas, it was his birthday in two days.

So, he just smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of stringy hair out of Gale's face, “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me.” He said again.

Gale did what he was told, leaning up to press their lips together in a soft kiss. It wasn't anything more than that, just the gentle press of Gale's lips against his own, although he could feel the smile pulling at Gale's lips.

“There.” He said once he'd pulled back, lightly flicking the tip of his nose against Gale's, “That's my gift.”

Gale huffed, rolling his eyes. He was smiling, though, and that was all he could have asked for, “You're sweet.”

He smiled, pulling Gale in again as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders in a hug, Gale's arms coming up to wrap around his waist again in return, “Merry Christmas, Buck.” He whispered, leaning his chin on Gale's shoulder.

He could have stayed here forever; reveling in the weight of Gale's arms around him, the warmth of his body pressed close against his own, the feeling of his breath against his cheek as Gale turned his face in towards the embrace. He and Gale had hugged a thousand times before, but this was different. It was more, and he found himself never wanting to let this go.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Gale whispered, gently nudging his nose against his cheek.

He had no idea how much longer they'd be here for, but he was pretty sure that getting to have this with Gale would make it a little bit more bearable. It would give him something to fight for, something to actually make it through this for. He could. If it was for Gale, then he knew he could.

It wasn't much, but he could work with it.

[littleredwolf]

Home for Christmas

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It's Christmas Eve at the Avengers Compound and you and Wanda are busy making festive cookies for the team to enjoy upon their return from a mission.

Warnings: none. This is pure fluff/cosy Christmas content.

Words: 982

A/N: I wanted to have a go at something fluffy and festive, so I hope this ticks all the right boxes! Merry Christmas!

--

The snow fell in gentle cascades, blanketing the compound in a glittery shimmer that added a touch of magic to the view. Inside, the compound had been transformed into a festive haven, every corner adorned with twinkling lights and tinsel, while Christmas music played softly over the sound system, mingling with the rich scents of sugar, vanilla, and freshly baked gingerbread. It was like a scene straight out of a Christmas movie, so cosy and picturesque. 

“I think we may have overdone it,” Wanda mused as the two of you stood at the counter to admire your afternoon's work. 

The kitchen sides were covered with trays filled with cookies of all shapes and sizes. There were snowflakes, gingerbread men, Christmas trees, candy canes, Santa, stockings, and even some questionable looking reindeer. To anybody else, maybe it was a little too much, but with a team full of superheroes to feed, you wondered if maybe it wasn't enough.

“I don't think that's possible,” you replied, straightening one of the cookies on the tray closest to you. “The super soldiers alone will get through most of these between them.” 

“I'm surprised you haven't made Bucky his own personal batch,” she said with a teasing smile.

At the mere mention of his name, your cheeks flushed and your chest tightened. 

It had been nearly three weeks since you'd last seen Bucky, he and a few other members of the team had been away on a mission, and while he'd sent a few texts and the occasional picture (one particularly adorable shot of him and Sam looking begrudgingly festive in Santa hats), you missed him more than you’d like to admit. 

The compound had felt strangely empty since he'd been gone, you'd missed his dry humour, his quiet strength, and the way he always managed to put you at ease simply by being there. Your bed had felt too big without him in it each night, and the absence of his arms around you and gentle kisses to soothe you to sleep had thrown your sleeping pattern completely off balance. 

The excitement of his imminent return had been bubbling all morning, making you so impatient and restless that Wanda had insisted you do something to keep yourself busy, hence the cookies.  

Now you were finished, however, the nervous excitement was returning, and you couldn't resist the frequent glances out the window to see if you could spot the quinjet through the snow. 

“You really love him, don't you?” Wanda smiled as she began to tidy everything away, sending the dirty utensils to the dishwasher with a wave of her hand. 

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating her words, then slowly nodded. Although neither of you had used the ‘L’ word yet, there was no denying how you felt. 

“Yeah, I do. It's different with him, Wanda - I can be myself around him without feeling like I have to dilute any part of my personality. I never thought I'd find someone who just accepts me as I am - even the messy, broken bits! He’s just, so damn perfect, you know? I feel like pinching myself sometimes because it feels too good to be true!” Your tone was light, but there was no hiding your insecurities from Wanda Maximoff - she knew you better than you knew yourself most days. 

She reached over the counter to squeeze your hand, smiling softly. “He feels the same way, you know. Anyone can see it.” 

Before you could respond, the compound’s security system chimed, announcing an incoming quinjet. Your heart leapt -  they were home! 

“They’re here!” you exclaimed, abandoning your work and rushing to the window. Through the snow, you could just make out the sleek shape of the jet landing on the pad outside. 

Wanda laughed as she trailed after you.“I think you’re more excited about this than Christmas itself,” she teased.

You turned to her with a thoughtful expression. “I'd say it's a draw,” you smirked, and she shook her head with a laugh. You turned to the window again, but the snow was so thick now that you could barely see a thing. 

“What are you waiting for? Go and greet your man!” Wanda urged, giving you a gentle nudge. 

You didn’t need to be told twice - you slipped on your shoes and dashed outside, forgetting to even put on a coat in your rush. The icy wind bit at your cheeks, but you hardly noticed as the quinjet’s hatch opened and the team began descending the ramp. Sam was the first to emerge, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Merry Christmas!” he called, waving as he approached and pulling you into a bear hug. “Now, where are the cookies?”

“It’s good to see you too!” You laughed, giving him a playful shove as you sent him on his way, your attention snapping to the next figure emerging from the jet. 

Bucky stepped out into the snowy evening, his eyes scanning the landing pad until they found you. His face softened instantly, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he hastily made his way down the ramp. 

You didn’t wait for him to reach you. You ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck as he caught you, pulling you close. The familiar scent of him - leather and something faintly metallic - wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

“You’re freezing,” he gasped, brushing his gloved hand over your cheek. 

“I don’t care,” you replied, smiling up at him. “You’re home.”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin mirroring yours as he cupped your face. “I’m home.” 

He pressed his lips to yours, filling you with so much warmth that it instantly melted away the agony of the last three weeks. 

Out of all the gifts you could have written on your Christmas list, being back in Bucky's arms was by far the best one.

[beautiful-is-boring]

birthday boy

Levi x reader - Levi birthday special

Contains: fluff, not proof red, actually this is kinda bad

December 25th was only a few days away. The spirits of soldiers were at an all time high for the impending Christmas celebrations at the survey corps head quarters, including yours. But most importantly, it was the birthday of the love of your life.

Your boyfriend Levi is an incredibly observant partner, so while you had been secretly preparing for his birthday, you had to admit, it was a bit...dificult to hide things from him. Levi wasn't dumb either. He knew. He knew you have been secretly preparing. You had gone to the market alone the other day, claiming you were just stocking up on snacks and tea, but Levi knew you had bought him something secretly.

"What'd you get from the market?" He asked, knowing you had brought him something for his birthday as well as for Christmas. He could tell, as he watched your slightly sheepish expression as he lounged on the bed of his quarters.

"Oh, just some tea and snacks, bought some shampoo too. And pads. Yeah. That's about it." You quickly unpacked the items you bought from the bag, but shoved his hidden gift along side the bag deep inside your side of the closet.

He had a tiny smirk on his face as he watched your antics. "You know I can see through your act right? I know you bought me something,brat."

"Ugh fine yes, I bought you something for Christmas! " You huffed.

"And...?" He urges you with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk.

You sigh. "Fineee yes I bought you something for your birthday BUT you're not allowed to snoop in my side of the closet to see the gift in advance, got it?"

"Yes ma'am." He chuckled.

------

Levi sighed for the umpteenth time that night. "Brat, are you seriously going to stay up till twelve to wish me a happy birthday?"

"...Yes." You answer.

He looked at you. You were sitting right beside him on the bed, dressed in your pajamas that he thought looked adorable on you, staying up alongside him. He had insomnia, but you did not. He could see the tiredness in your eyes, but he could also see the eagerness and excitement in them. You really were a sweetheart.

Levi wrapped an arm around your shoulders and brought you closer.

"Go to sleep sweetheart. You can wish me in the morning."

"No. I wanna be the first one to wish you."

"Tch. You're gonna be the first one to wish me regardless. We wake up next to each other, idiot."

"Don't care."

"You stubborn little shit."

"Look who's talking."

He was about to give you another one of his retorts, when you surprised him by cupping his face gently. The way you held his face, as if he were glass, always melted him, regardless of the fact that you had done this multiple times.

"Levi dear?"

"Hm?"

"Happy birthday."

Levi's breath hitched. It was at that moment he realized it was 12 AM already. The 25th of December.

"Thankyou brat". Levi loved bantering you, annoying you and getting annoyed by you. All because he loved you. He adored you. You leaned in close, the tip of both of your noses nuzzling against each other softly before you locked your lips with his for a sweet and gentle kiss, the first kiss after he turned one year older. Levi kissed you back just as gently, relishing in the feeling if your soft lips against his and the welcoming feeling of warmth in his chest.

"There. You've wished me. Now let's go to sleep hm? "

You exclaim "But your gifts-" You are stopped from speaking any further when Levi interrupted you with a peck to your soft lips.

"After we wake up, okay? I know you're excited but you need to get your rest, it's very late."

"But-"

"No buts, sweetheart. It's my birthday so you have to listen to me now."

You sigh and get back into the covers. "You're using your birthday boy privileges. This is cheating, baby.."

Levi only chuckled in response and allowed himself to get cradled by you in your arms, all cozy under the blanket.

"Happy birthday again, Levi. I love you" You whispered into his ear.

"I love you too, brat. Thankyou."

"Oldie" You giggle.

"Tch. I'm not that old."

With you by his side, he didn't mind growing older.

[weenwrites]

hiiiii! I was hoping you could do headcanons for the decepticons (any of your choice) and how they would react to finding out that a young human has somehow got onto the nemesis (nobody knows how and nobody ever will🥸) and started causing trouble, like stealing stuff for their little hoard and drawing on the walls. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, but I hope you do 😊

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]:

Soundwave

As the "eyes and ears" of the Decepticons, almost nothing escapes his watchful gaze, save for you. He doesn't know how you've managed it, but you've gone ahead and made yourself a cosy little home somewhere within the confines of the ventilation system and even mocked him with these nonsensical scribbles on the walls.

He doesn't miss the way vehicons poke fun at him now that a pesky little human has somehow slipped his watch, and though you prove no serious threat to them, even Megatron finds himself a tad disappointed with the blatant deterioration in Soundwave's skills. First a human, then what? Are they going to start missing Autobot intruders stalking the halls?

Soundwave resolves to handle this himself, as now he has a personal vendetta to deal with on top of proving himself still worthy of his position to his lord and master.

Megatron

He's found humans to be quite the interesting bunch, a true mixed bag. On one hand those pests that the Autobots risk their lives to protect have been one of the biggest pains to the Decepticons, but on the other hand, CYLAS wasn't all that impressive once he ran out of assets to use. Yet you've proven yourself to be resourceful, relying only on your own skills to evade the watchful eye of one of the most skilled members of the Decepticons.

Were you on the Autobot side, you could've proven to be a concerning inside-threat, and that's where it hits him. Weaponizing a human in a more under-handed manner is something the Decepticons haven't tried yet. He issues word to the entire Nemesis to capture you upon sight, yet he's not exacting holding out hope that no one's killed you yet, nor is this idea of his worth getting too excited for.

Shockwave

You may have gotten a little too cocky. Shockwave may lose himself to his research and projects at times, but the moment he's aware of his surroundings it doesn't take long for him to pinpoint what's out of place. One of his rotary carvers are missing, one of the vent covers are missing a few screws, and that drawing on the inside of one of the table's legs isn't as discreet as you'd think.

It's clear there's a pest running amok. Nothing worth reporting to Megatron, and nothing to linger over for too long. He simply rigs one of his tools with a rudimentary trap, not his best work but it's not as if you're worth anything fancy. He leaves it out and walks away without sparing it another thought.

You were none the wiser and practically fell straight for it. It looked unassuming too, it looked as if it had fallen off the edge of the table and he had forgotten about it, so no one could really blame you. But the moment the trap was sprung, your limbs were bound yet no one came.

The other Decepticons know better than to poke and prod around in Shockwave's laboratory, or anywhere he turns into his general working area. And Shockwave was either busy with a long-term project that would take days to complete, or just knew to spend his time on more productive pursuits than checking the trap every now and then. Either way, it took around 2 days before Shockwave came to check on his trap.

Even upon seeing that he caught something, he paid you little mind, let alone acknowledged you in the slightest. He simply shoved you into the hands of some vehicon and asked them to "dispose of the waste in the incinerator".

[manic-sapphic]

sorry sw could you repeat that? who betrayed who?

cause i seem to remember catra doing nothing other than carrying out a horde plan that required the use of the black garnet and somebody freaked tf out, pretty much tryna take out everybody in the room cause someone's obsession w power had em throwin a tantrum like an old evil baby and that's what landed em in a prison cell ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(and yes i did overlay the "catra betrayed me" soundbyte a possibly def absurd amount of times during these clips sorry not sorry i just hate sw so fucking much, couldn't help it <3)

- it wrecks my bones so bad they all shatter, in a full-body cast for life, that catra goes to visit the one who caused the instincts and rationale that come w believing a person's worth is directly tied to their power to just be part of the way her mind works. sw now a prisoner, catra tryna ask about some missing file cause she's got her old position. but just for that one time for that one question. of course.

--- i think the only reason she still needed sw to be the one to give her some, any kind of validation or assurance at this point wasn't about sw the way it had ever been in the past. honestly i think she'd grown pretty accustomed to having to live without any recognition from sw that she meant a damn thing, cause she'd had adora there back then, and she made her feel like she did. but sw was the one who'd put all these thoughts about herself and her own life's lack of any significance into her head that directly contributed to developing the thought processes and rationale exhibited in her behaviors, and they're all factors in her decision to part ways from the only person who'd ever made her feel like she meant something, like her life wasn't worthless.

cause she reached a point where she felt like that was all a lie and none of it had been real, and became determined to create that on her own, and get back that feeling and have it exist in a way that's dependent on no one but her. and the sw survival guide is the only way she knows of for how to (supposedly) do that.

gets the tiniest glimpse of some hope she might actually finally get the validation she needs from sw at a time when she may not fully get why, but she needs it more than ever. and i think a big part of why is now that she's made it to second-in-command, she's been wondering if it all really is what she wants and probably still considering whether or not she'd made the right choice staying. then next visit, sw's gone, left the evidence that she tricked catra into bringing her exactly what she needed to do it. knowing it left catra likely to take the fall for it and it very likely being a death sentence if she does.

which would make sense as to why she freaks soo sooo badly when she hears where sw went. there's def gotta be a lot going on in her head there but i think part of it was sw went to the person she'd still been wondering if she should've gone to, and was visiting sw tryna get some sense or feeling that at least by staying she'd made her life worth something. and after what sw did to her, as long as she's w adora, then catra ever feeling able to even consider being w adora is wrecked af for her.

fck off shadow weaver forever and ever ok~

[fakeusernamelol]

Shermie: Ma, what happened to father..?

Stan: Eh, you know him, he's off on business - now, do ya still wanna cut your hair short, munchkin?

Shermie: Father's letting me?! :D

Stan: Eh, nevermind him, it's your hair, not his...

Shermie: Okay!!! :D

OMFG THIS ONE IS BEAUTIFUL INTERACTIONS YESSS 🤩🤩🤩💖💖💖💖 i will make a draw of this but i already owe one and i have a lot so say about this particularly so sorry but im about to yap a lot....🙇🙇 (Tw: Transphobia, Mysoginy and abuse you know 🤷)

Shermie doesn't know it but in this bad ending he's lucky af lol. I mean, Ford's not the best dad lol, he's mediocre at best, always busy with his research so prefers to leave the job to take care of the kids to Stan, not even when they were babies ford helped Stanley with them (Fiddleford did way much than him lol) not even when they get bigger Ford try to be more closer to them, Shermie and Mariana didn't really know much about Ford, The father-kid moments they have had have been so few that they do not remember them well other than eating together or reading a book with him. They only saw him in the mornings having breakfast, sometimes coming out of his basement walking around the shack or going outside to the woods and coming out at night right before stanley quickly sent them to their room and put a small music box to put them to sleep and for absolutely no other reason 😉

The only thing they DID know about Ford was that he was a strict man, for some reason didn't like it to be called Pa (He would get very annoyed if any of them called him that...) so they were only allowed to call him father or at best Dad, and Dad was the one who decided everything. If they wanted that cool cereal with marshmallows they will have to ask their father permission and if he didn't allowed then there was nothing to do, no matter if ma allowed it. A new toy, new clothes, a new haircut It was always answered with « Ask your father first. »

Shermie always wanted a haircut, he was just 10 so he didn't really know yet what he actually was but he did know that he didn't like being so girly unlike his twin (bows look better on his neck, not on his head!) but no matter what he did ford always said no. He tried helping with cleaning, doing all his homework, getting good grades, organizing his room but anyway ford said no! Sometimes he insisted more than necessary, making Ford scream at him and ending up crying on his Ma's lap.

That was one of the few things that did pissed off Stanley, He could put up with Ford's abuse because he was already used to holding back on things because he told him to but just seeing how his little kid cried for the same simple thing he has been wishing made him sick

Now that ford was gone, sure he needed to get him back (he was still very emotionally dependent on him because you know they are the fucked up brothers 😗) but while he wasn't here there was no one to told them what to do, he finally could do what he wanted and have a voice for their kids.

Shermie's going to be loved for sure, Stanley's will make sure he Will never have to get through the things he has gone, when shermie's a teenager they could get through their transition together in real father-son quality time 🤭🤭

Their kids are happier but stanley suffers even more in this au lol you win something you lost something 😗

[guardian-instincts-bad]

my birthday gift for @knight-of-the-thorn this year is a little unorthodox, but one of the best things i think i ever made, so now that it's been gifted and is no longer a surprise, i present to you - the plush mordy (mouth of mordremoth edition)!

entirely handsewn, several months of work, including having to make all the patterns by hand and figure out how to get from screenshots of dragon's stand to a working 3d model, but i couldn't be prouder - and he even fits on your shoulders like i hoped he would!

[tulpar-transmissions]

i love having to pretend to hate myself. i love not being able to tell people to stop talking about me like that. i love people telling me to my face what awful things they wish would happen to me. i love sitting here and typing out my own brutal deaths because i can't tell anyone who i am. i love having to pretend because everyone sees me as subhuman. /sarc

[suddencolds]

.~

[megumi-fm]

.

[dollgxtz]

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

[mahgyu]

──── In the beginning of your relationship, you learned that Satoru was the type who liked to sleep cuddling. Before meeting you, Satoru used to sleep hugging a pillow, even. It wasn't exactly a necessity for him, but just something he liked and that made him fall asleep faster. You, on the other hand, weren't exactly that type.

Hugs before sleeping? Perfect. Having someone on top of you while trying to sleep? Not so perfect. Fortunately, the two of you reached an agreement about that.

But sometimes, like today, Satoru was extremely clingy. He was sleeping deeply, with his body completely on top of yours, his face buried in the curve of your neck, and a leg trapped between yours.

You loved holding him that way, having the strongest man you had ever known so vulnerable curled up in your arms and sleeping peacefully. Satoru slept heavily when he felt that comfortable, and the deeper he slept, the heavier he became on you. As mentioned, your boyfriend is a strong guy, so now it was almost uncomfortable for you.

You feel this pressure against your chest as he rests on you, completely at ease. You thought that maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could fall asleep, but no, it’s not possible.

"Baby..." You whisper, hoping it will be enough to wake him, but he just keeps snoring, each snore reverberating through your body.

"Toru...?" You try again, a little louder.

"SATORU!" Still nothing. He barely moves a bit in his sleep, letting out a particularly loud snore.

OK. Plan B. If you can't get him off, it's time to slide down. Only after two unsuccessful attempts, you somehow manage to do it, taking a big breath as you escape. You haven't even fully turned to the side when Satoru wakes up, confused and abandoned, with the source of warmth under him gone. He moves his hand aimlessly over the sheets until he feels you.

"Where are you going?" He murmurs sleepily, moving closer to you. "No..." A heavy arm wraps around you, pulling you back to him with ease. There’s a soft hum as he feels your body fit into his.

"Toru?" You call him sweetly. "You know I can't sleep like this, hmm? Come on." You pat his arm, signaling for him to let you go.

Satoru doesn't move. Instead, he just makes some whiny sounds before rubbing his face in your hair.

"Come on, let me go, please?" More pleading.

"Nuh-uh, I don't want to." He whines. "Hug me." He pouts, looking so needy and neglected.

"Love, you're acting like a baby" You complain.

"Because I am. I'm your baby!" He says defiantly. "So, you should treat me like one."

At this point, you know it won't help to try to convince him when he's in this mood. You sigh, deciding to give up and give in.

About five minutes pass in complete silence and then Satoru quietly asks: "You really can't sleep?" The thought of this now bothers him. How could he relax knowing that you're not even comfortable?

"Mhm" You respond as he pulls separates from you.

"OK, I'll give up the hug time for you!" He sighs, rolling away from you dramatically. A few minutes later, he sighs again, a bit louder.

This is his cue to tell you that you should give in and cuddle with him. But you can't, having finally found a position that relaxes all the right places in your body, perfect for falling asleep.

"Are you really going to leave me abandoned?" His voice is so stupidly captivating that it makes you melt. You can't say no to that.

Satoru smiles when he hears the rustling of the sheets, your body moving toward him.

With open arms, he welcomes you back as you rest your head on his chest. "I think I can sleep like this..." You admit as he smiles, making sure you're comfortable but still wrapped up in him.

Hiii, long time no see, uh? 👀This time I brought something cute, a thought I had because I've been feeling so needy and missing our Gojo😞

(It is not well corrected, please ignore any possible mistakes.)

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome. 🫶🏻💕

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