#and when they are standing under the wing and she is telling him goodbye and not to wait?

[tonowarii]

That One's Mine

Pairing: Ao'nung x Fem! Metkayina! Reader x Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan

Requested?: Yes

Summary: Growing up with Ao'nung, his parents and yours had eventually promised you to each other. Now training under Ronal to become tsahik, unexpected events occur when the family of Toruk Makto arrive.

Word count: 3.5k

Warning/s: slight atwow spoilers if you squint, jealous aonung, violence, fluff, this time neteyam being a skxawng (jk)

Note: Likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are most welcome and appreciated! Let me know your thoughts!

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

“Catch me if you can!” A little Aonung laughs, followed by your cousin, Rotxo who adds “We can run faster than your little legs!”

“No, you can’t!” Little you said, catching speed towards them.

Your parents alongside Tonowari and Ronal watched. “Look at them.” Your mother cooed to Ronal, her best friend as you finally caught up to Aonung and Rotxo a little too harsh, sending the three of you stumbling onto the sand.

Both mothers laughed at their children. Your father and Tonowari looked at each other with a content look on their faces.

As the years progressed, all of you grew into fine hunters, particularly you and Aonung had gotten close.

Your parents could tell there was this unspoken bond between the two of you, not long after his parents began noticing it too. Not long enough, they therefore decided that the two of you were fated together.

That Ao’nung in the future would be the olo’ekytan, with you by his side as tsahik. A mated pair before Eywa and their people.

But that was still a long time coming, as the two had accomplished their rite of passage, the two has yet to decide when they would be mates.

It still baffled you that you and Aonung would become a mated pair in the future, and now Ronal had taken you under her wing to be a tsakarem just like Tsireya.

“Now this way.” Ronal was teaching the two of you. You and Tsireya looked at each other before following her.

You were glad that you and Tsireya were able to become close due to always spending the time together learning.

After finishing your lesson for the day, you and Tsireya bid goodbye to Ronal with a smile on your faces.

“We’re just going out, mother.” Tsireya laughs.

Ronal gives the two of you her rare smiles, she could very well remember your mother and her being like that in the past. “Go, keep safe.”

Leaving the Marui, you were greeted with the afternoon sky. You gave a stretch and a yawn. Tsireya breathes in the air. “I still can’t believe you’re going to be my sister-in-law soon!” She gushed, making you snap your mouth shut and blush.

“Tsireyaaaa…” You whine, you hated when she always teased you about her brother, not in a negative way, it was more like a stop-teasing-because-I-will-literally-combust-into-butterflies way.

“You better not be messing with her, sister.”

“And speaking of.” Tsireya said, looking up to meet his brother. “- And no, I am not! I’m just telling how happy we’ll be if—” You covered her mouth, not facing Aonung, who was standing behind you.

He raises an eyebrow at you and smirks. “Happy if?”

“Happy if- uh...” You thought. Tsireya then takes your hand off her mouth and spoke.

“Happy if you’d finally make her a part of the family!”

You scrunch your face, closing your eyes shut as heat seeped through your cheeks, turning a shade darker.

Instantly, you felt Aonung’s hand snake to your arm, going to your shoulder, gently turning you around to meet him.

You open your eyes and the first thing you see is that stupid smirk on his face that you fell in love with.

“Seems like they can’t wait, can they?” He teased.

“Tsireya I told y-“ You turned to face her, Aonung’s hand still on your shoulder but Tsireya was already skipping away from the two of you.

You sigh rather loudly, facing him.

“You not happy to see me anymore?” Ao’nung tilts his head, looking down at you. Your pout turns into a playful smile as you playfully shoved his chest.

Aonung laughs, pulling you close as he wraps an arm around your waist as the two of you started walking side by side.

“It feels like everyone’s expecting us to be mated already.” You started the conversation. Aonung turns his head to you, before he looks out the horizon.

“Mother has been asking about it too.” He replied. You turn to him, studying his features as he looked in front of him.

You blink.

“You should hear my mother instead, asking me if you had already asked me, considering the number of gifts you’ve given me.” You could feel Aonung chuckle as you leaned onto his side.

His arms gave a comforting squeeze. “You know I’ll always wait for you.” Aonung wasn’t one to push, he knew you’ll give him your answer when you were ready.

For now, the two of you were just enjoying being young, being together.

But you felt guilty, sure you had all the time in the world, but you could not keep him waiting even if he constantly reassures you. You were lucky to have someone as patient and loyal as him.

“Besides, it’s not like you could do anything about it, you’re stuck with me.” Aonung jokes with a smirk, his arm now going to wrap around your shoulder as he gives a subtle feather-light kiss on the side of your temple.

You blush with a laugh. “Being stuck with the olo’eyktan’s finest hunter… who would’ve thought?”

“Hmm, I guess little you did.” He responds. “But little me thinks he’s luckier having this beautiful girl beside him, the girl who captured his heart and trapped it with hers.”

“Oh, you can be quite the dramatic.” You say as the two of you walked along the shore.

“Not dramatic if it is true.”

There you go again, blushing for the nth time within minutes of being with him. It instantly made your day better.

But both of your fun had to end as eclipse set. Aonung was now walking you towards your marui.

Reaching the destination and entering, you were greeted by your mother and father. But your mother looked like she was happier to see Aonung.

“Aonung, my son! How are you?” Your mother greeted him and Aonung smiles.

“I am good ma, I just thought I’d walk (Y/N) back here, to make sure she gets home safe.”

Your mother instantly cooes, thanking him. Your father seemed to be also pleased by Aonung’s presence as he gives him a nod to which Aonung bowed to.

“Mom, Aonung has to go home now, look how dark it is outside.” You say, placing a hand on your mother as you looked out.

“Oh, imagine it, soon the two of you will be finally sharing your own marui, you’d no longer have to worry about each other going home separately.”

The thought sent you and Aonung looking at each other as Aonung sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Mom!” You say.

Finally, your mother gives in an bids goodbye to Aonung as she returned to her spot.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked.

“Of course, goodnight.” You smiled.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The following weeks ran smoothly.

However, today was something you’d never expect to happen.

You were on your ilu, carrying your bag filled with freshly plucked shellfish on your way to the shore when screeching sounded.

You had commanded your ilu to stop when you looked up.

Knitting your brows, you find a couple of mountain banshees approaching. It had you thinking, there wasn’t any news from the Omatikaya clan that they would be coming today?

And weirdly enough, why would they need five of them if they were only to send a message?

You watched as they circled around, more people noticing as they yelped at them. Soon, everyone was gathering around the shore.

Instantly you saw Tsireya on her ilu as well. Deciding to approach her, she notices you and speaks. “What do you think they’re doing here?”

“I don’t know…” You respond.

Then they landed.

You and Tsireya looked at each other. “Come, let’s see!” Tsireya says curiously, already had her ilu moving. You followed.

As the crowd formed around them, you and Tsireya had reached the shore, dismounting and walking towards them curiously.

To your surprise, you already see Aonung and Rotxo, who was having too much fun in making fun of their tails.

You walked behind Tsireya as she slaps Rotxo on the arm, making you chuckle. “Do not. Rotxo, Aonung.”

Finally looking to see your visitors, it had taken you by surprise. They were blue, their arms where thin and long, and their tails was… small compared to yours. They had striking eyes that had a mix of yellow and green in them.

“Hey.” You hear one of them speak beside the other teenage boy, you could see him looking at Tsireya, making the two of you giggle.

Though you also feel the other boy’s eyes on you as you looked to confirm your suspicions. He was, indeed, looking at you.

He flashes you a friendly smile and you smiled back at him.

Little did you know Aonung watched the interaction, sending him glaring daggers at the back of the poor boy’s head as he tapped Rotxo on the side, muttering things under his breath.

As the olo’eyktan and tsahik arrived, Aonung and Tsireya walked to get beside their parents while you followed behind them with your cousin, Rotxo.

You watched the whole scene play out as Ronal circled them, pointing out their appearance, to when Tonowari granted them to stay.

“My son Aonung and our daughter Tsireya will show your children what to do.” Tonowari spoke.

Instantly, your eyes shift to Aonung who stepped forward to speak out to his father.

“Father, why—”

“It has been decided.”

Tsireya offers them a gentle smile, before looking back at you and pulling onto your hand to drag you with her.

Aonung notices this of course, and he has a sour look on his face as he watches the two of you.

“Come! We will show you our village.”

The crowd dispersed as Toruk Makto’s family had gathered their belongings. You were standing beside Tsireya. Honestly, curiosity was gnawing at you, and you were thankful Tsireya had dragged you with her.

You watched them as they carried their stuff, and you already feel the same pair of eyes looking at you as you talked with Tsireya. You gripped on your bag a little tightly as you looked at them.

“We’ll help you with that.” Tsireya says, grabbing a few bags off of Neytiri as she thanked her, while you had chosen to help the boy from earlier, seeing that he has a lot to hold on to.

“I can take it, here.” You approach him, grabbing a few bags and a roll of mat off him before he had a chance to refuse.

“Thank you.” Was the only thing he said to you.

Now making your way to their newly assigned marui, the boy had introduced himself to you.

“Hi, thank you again for carrying our stuff… you didn’t have to.” He says from behind you, you slow your footsteps to have him walk beside you. “It’s the least we could do, this is going to be your new home after all.”

He pauses, his mouth opening and closing as he walked with you. “I am Neteyam.”

Neteyam? Hmm.

“(Y/N). It is nice to meet you, Neteyam.” You reply.

“(Y/N)… nice.”

“Hm?” You look at him. “I mean it is nice to meet you.” He clears his words.

Aonung and Rotxo watched behind all of you, specifically, Aonung’s eyes were targeted on the boy beside you as he strikes up a conversation.

“Just up here.” Tsireya announces.

Reaching the newly made marui, you had left the boy to walk besides Tsireya, placing their bags down.

“This is for you, your new home.” She spoke.

“This is nice, right?” Jake Sully had said, in turn, you flinch as the noise of the mat being carried by Neytiri had dropped as everyone turned to look at her.

“We will leave you guys to get settled.” You say, placing your hands together with a small smile.

“We will teach you starting tomorrow, but for now I hope you all get some rest.” Tsireya announced.

Walking away, you smirked and nudged Tsireya on the side “That boy couldn’t take his eyes off you.” You teased her. Tsireya giggles, rolling her eyes. “You had that one boy staring at you too.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, you and Tsireya walking side by side laughing to yourselves.

Rotxo and Aonung watched from the side as the two of you laughed and giggled like little kids. It struck his nerves, what were the two of you laughing about? He sighs, patting Rotxo on the side to go and do their own pending tasks.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The day started bright and early, it just had been about every other day before, but this time you had begun to teach Jake Sully’s kids.

Already diving in the water, you felt the cool water envelop you as you swam, your tail swishing to propel you further. You swam around coral reefs and among the fishes, Aonung following close by.

You stop and looked behind you to see the siblings on the surface. They glanced down and you could see Tsireya signing them to come swim with you.

Aonung stopped as well, looking at you to find you looking at them, while Rotxo, from beside him, looked at them too.

As they dove back down, you smile and continue swimming around. But they had to come up for air again as the four of you saw them reaching to the surface.

All of you looked at each other.

‘What’s wrong with them?’ Aonung signed.

‘They are bad divers’ Rotxo replied to him.

‘Stop that’ you signed back. ‘They’re learning’ Tsireya added.

Aonung rolled his eyes but watched as Rotxo and Tsireya swam up.

You swim towards him, tilting your head. ‘Give them a chance’ you signed. ‘Come on let’s go up’ You added.

Both of you swam to the surface beside one another.

You were about to talk when Aonung began “You are not good divers, maybe good at swimming through trees—”

Turning towards him, you give him a light smack on the shoulder, making his smirk drop as he looks at you with a ‘What was that for?’ look.

“Come on, bro.” The other sibling, who you learned was Lo’ak, said.

“We don’t speak this… finger talk you guys. We don’t know what you’re saying.” Neteyam said.

“We will teach you.” You say, Aonung looks at you before looking back at them.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After a few weeks, Aonung could notice the way Neteyam was always on you. And it was getting on his nerves. You, however, seemed clueless about it.

There were times when all of you were teaching them sign language, and when he failed to get it right, you’d assist him by having your hands on his. And with the way that the forest boy blushed had Aonung feeling annoyed.

He wanted to send a sign that you were already taken, that you were his. But at the same time, he didn’t want to cause trouble if it included you.

So, he settled on subtle ways.

He’d always make sure he was a little too close to you. He would then randomly talk to you, leaning his face closer to yours whenever they were around.

And he would be sure to often grab your arm or hand a few times to grab your attention from them.

But you weren’t noticing these things he was doing. It made you blush and smile, sure, but you didn’t know their true intentions. It made him look jealous, because he was. You were his, why can’t he see that?

Even though when you both had free time you were always being pulled away from him by the Sully’s, even Tsireya for Eywa’s sake! What has gotten into you two?

Even more, his actions didn’t even seem to stop Neteyam from staring at you and taking the chance to talk with you when he wasn’t around.

“These are ilu. If you want to live here, you have to ride.” Aonung says, introducing the ilu’s to the Sully kids.

You were there, standing, watching Aonung with love in your eyes, with the way he was acting the past few weeks had you feeling fuzzy.

Although you missed hanging out with him, considering you were always being pulled aside by Neteyam or even both you and Tsireya were being pulled aside by both Neteyam and Lo’ak.

At first it was asking for advice, then they started asking questions about yourselves and so on. You hadn’t really given it much thought until Tsireya bought it up one afternoon.

After finishing the lesson, you and Tsireya were walking back to the village. “(Y/N), have you noticed the way Neteyam has been giving you heart eyes this whole time?”

You stopped, looking at her. “Wait- What?”

“My Eywa, you haven’t noticed?” Tsireya gasps, looking at you. “No- what? I thought he was just wanting to make friends.”

“More than friends.” Tsireya corrected, laughing. You thought back, and it did seem so.

“And!” Tsireya says, grabbing onto your arm. “You should see the look on Aonung’s face everytime he comes across Neteyam… or Lo’ak too for that matter…” Tsireya concluded. “It looks like he really hates them.”

Then you connected the dots. Maybe that’s why Aonung was being clingy than before. He was jealous. He was almost subtly marking you as his, that you were taken.

Helping them get on their ilu’s you watched Lo’ak speed off with his ilu, before letting go, sending him tumbling onto the water.

Aonung laughed beside you as you chuckled yourself. You then watched Neteyam carefully guiding his ilu around, with a smile on his face.

You feel an arm snake around your waist, looking up, you still see Aonung teasing Lo’ak. You smile to yourself at Aonung’s actions.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Then Aonung had enough.

“Back off. Now.” Neteyam pointed at Aonung’s chest as Aonung had decided to pick on his sister, Kiri, for being a freak.

Aonung still hadn’t settled on accepting the Sully family as their own, he was being stubborn, and now this is where it got him.

Aonung only smirked at him, walking forward as Neteyam’s finger pressed even further on his chest.

“Then why won’t you back off my mate, huh?” He taunted. Although you weren’t mates yet, he just had to do something to make Neteyam stop his moves on you.

Neteyam looked confused as he dropped the accusatory finger from his chest. “What do you mean?”

“Skxawng, I’m talking about (Y/N). She doesn’t want anything to do with you.” He shoved his chest back, making Neteyam stumble as Lo’ak intervened.

“We didn’t know, bro—”

“Maybe this will let you know.” Aonung said, shoving Neteyam strongly this time. But Neteyam didn’t back down as a fight began to break out between Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Aonung’s gang.

Tsireya and you were just walking when you began to hear a commotion.

“The forest people and Aonung are fighting!” You heard one say.

Forest people… Aonung?

Quickly looking at each other, you and Tsireya broke off into a sprint to head towards them.

“Aonung!” You said as the scene of Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Aonung and his friends were fighting welcomed your eyes.

The other people pulled Neteyam and Lo’ak out while Rotxo held Aonung back.

“What’s happening?” Tsireya asked.

“Stay away.” Aonung said, pointing at Neteyam.

Your eyes widen, seeing a large bruise already forming on Aonung’s cheek as his bottom lip was busted open. You rushed towards him, cupping his cheek.

“Eywa give me strength…. What did you do?” You say frantically.

You looked towards Neteyam and Lo’ak, then back at Aonung.

Neteyam saw how your face formed in worry as you rushed to Aonung’s aid. What Aonung said was true. You were with him and he was too dumb to see that. It made his chest ache, but he knew he was in the wrong. You were only helping him out.

And that’s when the Sully brothers heard the voice of their father.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After that, the tension had died down. Neteyam and Aonung were able to set their differences, they became friends as well as with Lo’ak and their siblings.

Now you and Aonung were sat a rocky shore as you recalled what happened.

“So, you really said I was your mate already?” You laugh.

“I- kinda… yeah.” Aonung sighs in defeat, and in embarrassment. “I figured saying that might finally knock some sense into him.”

“Mhm even though we’re not mates.”

“I know, I’m sorry for—”

“But I guess we can change that, can we?” You smile up at him.

Aonung then snaps his gaze back to you, confusion etched all over him.

“What do you mean?”

Pulling him to peck his lips, you held his cheeks.

“Aonung, I am more than happy to become your mate.”

And the wide smile that crossed his lips was truly a sight to see.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Two — Azriel x Reader.

Summary: Azriel comes back for a little more practice. But this time, he wants to learn more than just kissing.

Word count: 7k.

Warnings: Some violence, injury detail, mention of blood. Smut 🌶️ some touching and fingering 😏

“Is that painful?”

“A little. Keep going.”

Rhysand’s hands are gentle when, a week later, you lay face-down on his couch, naked from the waist up. You wince as his fingers skate over jagged, poorly healed scars. You can picture the look on his face without needing to glimpse it; pursed lips and a furrowed brow and barely contained rage.

But he doesn’t let that rage seep into his hands as he smooths a pleasant, cooling salve into what remains of your wings. Which isn’t much.

“Sorry,” he murmurs at your slight jolt. “Almost done.”

There are very few people you will trust with touching your back. It’s too personal for you to visit the camp healer for such treatment, however trained and skilled he may be. But Rhysand—

“I swear to you, Y/N.” His voice is deep, stoic, warm breath fanning your shoulder. “When I’m High Lord, this will be outlawed. Females will not go through this under my rule.”

He promises it every single time he helps you with this. And he means it. Which is why you trust him implicitly with the act.

“I know.” You murmur against a couch cushion. “Thank you.”

“All done.”

As he wipes his hands on a rag, you ease yourself into a sitting position, clutching your shirt to your bare chest. As always, a crackling fire breathes heat into Rhysand’s mother’s home, and the feeling is pleasant, soothing.

“I haven’t seen your mother recently.” You mention, waiting for Rhys to turn around so you can slip your shirt on. It’s not that he hasn’t seen more private parts of your body over the years, nor that you particularly care, but he does you the courtesy, anyway. “Is she well?”

A soft, loving smile curls at his lips. “She is.” And then the smile widens into a full-blown grin. “My father wants her closer to home. She’s with child.”

“Seriously?” You blink, and then you’re throwing yourself at Rhys, sheer happiness and excitement filling you. “Rhys, that’s amazing. You’re going to have a brother or sister.”

“Sister, I hope.” He snorts, squeezing you, and yet also minding your still-bare back. “We need more girls around here.”

“Well, boy or girl, you’ll be the most incredible big brother. I just know it.”

And you absolutely do. Rhys has always been that sort of presence in your life; caring and loving and protective. Stern sometimes. A shoulder to cry on. A giver of warm, much-needed hugs.

You lean into one of those hugs now, not caring nor thinking about the fact that your top half is naked and pressing against him. That is, until the front door opens behind you, sweeping a gust of icy air indoors.

You turn just in time to see Azriel kick the snow from his boots. And then he pauses in the doorway, staring between you and Rhysand.

There’s been no mention of the kiss that night a week ago. Things haven’t been strange nor awkward. Just…normal. As if it never happened.

You’ve combed over it in your mind a little, though. Maybe more than a little.

“I told her the news.” Rhys announces, pulling away from you. A beaming grin still lights up his face.

Azriel’s mouth immediately tilts up, matching his enthusiasm as he smiles at you. “Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Oh, incredibly.” You shrug your shirt on. “I’m bound to get far more stimulating conversation from a newborn babe than I do from you three idiots.”

Rhys swats you and Azriel snorts, and then you’re pushing to your feet and heading towards the small kitchen area. “I’m making tea. Do either of you want some?”

“No, I’m heading out to visit my mother.” Rhys stands. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, though.”

“Give her my love.” You tell him.

Azriel dips his head. “And mine.”

With a chipper goodbye, Rhys is dipping out of the cottage. Shutting the door behind him seals the heat inside once more, and already you have some soothing release from the pain in your upper back.

“Tea?” You offer again over your shoulder.

“Please.” Az approaches you from behind, stopping mere inches away to tie the strings at the back of your tunic. “Cass won’t be joining us. He ran into Sacha on the way here.”

You snort. Cassian’s most recent fling is coming up to a week-long stint, now. It won’t be long before cracks begin to show, and the whole thing is called off, and another female or male takes Sacha’s place. Rinse and repeat.

“I wonder which one of them will break it off. My money’s on Sacha.” You ladle a generous helping of sage tea into two cups and hand one to Az. “How are things with Kaeda?”

You can’t lie — you’ve wondered it a fair few times over the past week. Which is only natural, right? To question if the…help…that you gave Azriel was of any use. But so far, he hasn’t mentioned a damn thing.

He takes a long, pensive sip of his steaming drink. And then shrugs. “I’ve not really had the chance to see her.”

Immediately, you cock an eyebrow. Because Az seems to have had plenty of time for you and Rhys and Cass over the last seven days. Even spared one of those days to fly you to the local market to pick some things up for your father. It hasn’t been a particularly busy week for any of you — slow, even — and you’re almost positive he’s had a spare few minutes to land a kiss on his romantic interest.

Leaning your back against the wall, you shoot him a look. One that says, that’s not going to fly with me, Shadowsinger. “Wanna try that again?” You say. “The truth this time, please.”

He sighs, pressing back against the opposite wall. It must be so annoying for him that you can read him so well. Azriel doesn’t like being read. At all.

“I’m just…not confident enough yet. So, I’ve been avoiding her.” He admits. “I think I need more practice.”

You stare at him. Study him. You’re not sure if he’s implying what…what you think he might be implying. “You’re a good kisser, Az.” You tell him. “Trust me.”

The firm, truthful tone of your voice has his cheeks reddening slightly. He lowers his gaze to the floor. “But I don’t feel like one. And that’s the key to it all, isn’t it? Confidence. I’m just not there yet.”

Fair enough, you think. He’s not wrong. But the direction in which this seems to be going has your heart doing a strange, anticipatory flip in your chest.

“So…” You drag the word out. “Are you asking to practice on me again, or? Because I can totally steal one of the sparring dummies from the training ring and guide you that way—”

“Forget it.” He cuts your teasing off with a roll of his eyes.

“No, wait, I’m sorry.” You bite back a laugh. “I’m taking it seriously, I promise. Tell me what you need.”

He purses his lips, eyeing you for a long moment. You allow him to do so, even if it makes you feel a little naked.

“All I know,” he says, “is that I’m comfortable with you.”

The words are…strangely heavy. Vulnerable. He means them, and you know that, but they’re so weighty that for a moment, you can’t speak.

You suppose you’re so accustomed to your friendship with him — the familiarity and comfort of it — that you don’t think too often about how good it feels to be such a support for somebody. It makes you feel good. Useful. You want to always be able to help him like that.

So, you know you’d offer him anything, do anything he needs.

“If you need to practice on me some more, Az...” Your voice is strangely raspy. “I’m right here.”

He swallows. “But I don’t want it to seem like…like I’m using you.”

“It doesn’t.” It really doesn’t. You keep it to yourself that you need this in your own, little way. “I’d tell you if I felt like that.”

His eyes scan your face, and he seems satisfied with the truth that’s displayed there. He licks his lips and swallows and shifts from foot to foot. And then he says, simply, “Okay, then.”

And you guess this is happening right now, like it happened right then a week ago. So, you place your mug of tea on the counter and push away from the wall. Azriel does the same.

He steps a little closer. Pauses. “Do I need to do anything different to what I did before?”

“No.” You answer, probably a little too quickly. “No, you were great.”

He blushes again, and he seems to be fighting the urge to look away. But he maintains the eye contact like a champ and closes the space between you.

His scent, his warmth, is like a blanket that’s draped over you. You want to wrap yourself inside it, build a fort out of it, hide in it.

Azriel’s hands tremble as he lifts them to your face. He seemed to enjoy that last time — the feel of your skin beneath his. You enjoyed it, too. You tilt your head up just a little.

His thumb makes contact with your cheekbone, brushing a gentle sweep over the area. He leans down—

But then the door flies open, and a snow-covered, pissed off Cassian stomps in.

“Sacha and I are finished.” He announces, not seeming to notice yours and Azriel’s compromising position. “Let’s go to the mead hall.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The mead hall is packed and noisy, exactly how Cassian wants it. He’s in a foul mood, and so a higher volume of people means he has a good choice of who to pick a fight with.

When he gets like this, there’s not really any stopping him.

Luckily, your father isn’t there tonight, so you’re comfortable sitting wedged between Az and Cass without his paranoid, judgemental stare. But you don’t want to be here — the males are too drunk and boisterous, and you seem to be one of very few females present. It makes their leering gazes far more apparent.

“It was a total misunderstanding.” Cassian says from beside you, leaning over you a little so that Az can hear, too. “Yes, I might have called her the wrong name—”

“I would have thrown you out on your ass, too.” You cut him off, rolling your eyes. “At least know the name of who you’re fucking before you dive between their legs.”

“I do know her name. I just got confused—”

He stops mid-sentence and looks up as, from behind, a pair of rough, meaty hands land on your shoulders and squeeze. You immediately recoil at the touch, turning to glimpse the mammoth of an Illyrian male whose name you think is Tanin. Not that you care.

He stinks of ale and sweat as he leans down and smells your hair. You tense. Cassian tenses. Azriel tenses.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Tanin slurs. “When are you going to let me dive between your legs?”

And there it is. Cassian’s excuse for a fight.

He’s out of his seat and on him quicker than you can even register, slamming Tanin down on the adjacent table amidst plates of food and goblets of ale. Blood goes flying as he pummels his fist into the bastard’s face, and then he’s grabbing a goblet of ale and pouring it over Tanin until he’s coughing and spluttering.

“How about you wash your filthy fucking mouth out?” Your friend snarls, diving in to land another punch. “Piece of shit.”

You turn to Azriel in mild alarm. Usually, he would have jumped in by now, pulled Cassian off before he can do too much damage. But the shadowsinger merely watches the affray with something akin to satisfaction on his face. You sigh in exasperation. This will quickly get out of hand.

“Cass.” You stand, reaching for your friend. “Cassian—”

But your voice is barely heard beneath all the yelling and jeering, and then Tanin is fighting back, landing a hit on Cassian so hard that he stumbles backwards — falls into you and knocks you to the floor, right amongst the gathering, boisterous males.

There’re feet everywhere in all directions, catching you in the side and stepping on your hand and knocking you back down whenever you try to get up. Suddenly, the fight is no longer between Cassian and Tanin. Males are punching each other for the sake of it, and more and more of them join in, not even knowing why they’re brawling. It’s the Illyrian pastime.

Just before another foot can swing into you, you’re aware of strong arms lifting you and plucking you straight from the centre of the chaos. Azriel shoves a drunken lout who backs into you, and then he’s dragging you away, his eyes fierce and blazing.

“You’re alright?” He asks over the shouting, his gaze roving your dirtied, creased tunic.

Your hand is throbbing from being stepped on, but the ache is already dulling. You nod. “I’m fine. Where is Cass?”

“Here.” Cassian suddenly appears behind you. His hair has mostly escaped the knot he’d tied it into, and his lip is badly split, blood gushing down his chin. He spits some onto the floor, and his words are thick and almost unintelligible as he cups his mouth and says, “Pieth of thit got me good.”

You scowl, knocking his hand away to grip his chin. “Serves you right. That fight was completely unnecessary.”

“I dithagree.” His eyes glitter, but then he grimaces and pulls away to spit more blood out. “Dammit. I think I need thitches.”

He definitely does. The gash in his lip is deep and pouring. And with the fight still merrily going on around you, it won’t be long before someone tries to drag him back into it. And Cass will happily oblige.

“Go to the healer and get that seen to.” Azriel tells him, not unlike a stern parent. He grips him by the shoulder and steers him out of the door, dragging you with him by the other hand. “And then sober up. I’m taking Y/N home.”

“And apologise to Sacha.” You add.

Cassian grumbles, but the fact that he doesn’t protest is a positive. He can sometimes be so stubborn that it makes you want to split his lip yourself. It would seem he’s had enough drama for one night.

“Fine.” He spits blood onto the dirt path. “Maybe Satha will take pithy on me.”

The fact that neither you nor Az agree is downright hilarious. But nor do you correct Cassian’s drunken, skewed thinking. Nights like these are a common occurrence, and to some degree, you just have to let your friend get on with it.

Cass turns, and you catch him quickly by the hand. “Thank you.” You tell him, because he was defending your honour, after all. “Love you.”

He grins a bloody grin, and then winces as it tugs at the wound. “Loveyouthoo, thweetpea.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ You don’t feel like going home and facing your father tonight, and with Rhysand’s mother’s cottage at your disposal, you don’t have to. It’s not unusual for you to spend nights away from home; usually he doesn’t care enough to even question it. But if he does, you always tell him the same thing — you spent the night with one of your many female friends. No males present. Such a little liar, you are.

But you’re content with that lie as you sink into the couch, your eyes flicking over to Azriel in the kitchen. He stirs a cup of tea silently, pensive as always. He’s asked about your wellbeing at least seven times since you stepped through the door.

You’re fine, you’ve answered each time, and it’s true. With him, you’re always fine. It doesn’t stop him worrying, though.

His footsteps thud against the floor as he approaches you, and he holds out a steaming mug. “Drink this. I put plenty of honey in it.”

Your lips twitch into a fond smile, and you accept it, taking a warm sip. “I was on the floor for a matter of seconds, Az. I have a bruised hand, that’s all.”

He knows this, of course, but trying to get him to stop fussing would be like beating a dead horse, and you really don’t mind being taken care of, anyway. Azriel settles into the space beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. You lean into his side.

For a few moments, it’s comfortably silent. And then he snorts softly. “Cassian’s going to have a hard time apologising to Sacha when he can barely form a legible sentence.”

You laugh, tipping your head back against his shoulder. “Maybe she really will take pity on him.”

“If only she’d been there to witness his gallant display of coming to your defence. It might have impressed her.”

“Or put her off him for good.”

“The heartbreak would drive him into someone’s bed, I’m sure.”

The two of you share another laugh, and then silence blankets the small cottage. You’re always content like this, just…existing with Azriel. No need to be a certain way or do a certain thing, like you have to in your own home. With your closest friends, you have the freedom of being yourself unapologetically.

You finish your drink, and then Az is pulling you down with him, his wing draping around you. You’ve fallen asleep like this countless times — with all three of your friends at least once — and it’s one of the few places you feel truly safe.

But as you lie there, basking in Azriel’s warmth, your eyes don’t grow heavy. Rather, they continuously creep over to that spot in the kitchen you stood in with Az earlier, your bodies inches from each other, your lips very nearly meeting but not quite touching thanks to Cassian’s abrupt arrival.

A strange sense of disappointment hits you. Disappointment that you didn’t get to feel that heated kiss a second time.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you murmur, knowing Azriel is just as awake as you are. “That we got interrupted.”

He turns his face slightly, chin brushing the top of your head. “It’s not your fault that Cassian has terrible timing.”

Your shoulders shake as you give a little laugh. No, no it isn’t. But amongst your disappointment — which is selfish, really, because the kiss was never for your sake —you feel guilt, also. Guilt that you didn’t get to help Az, despite that being what he needed.

You tip your head back enough to look up at him. “I’m still happy to help, you know. The offer is still there.”

For a couple of seconds, he merely stares down at you. His fingers absentmindedly twiddle a strand of your hair. And then he says, a hue of pink colouring his cheeks, “I still need the help.”

And in that moment, he looks so genuinely perturbed by his own inexperience that you can’t bear it. You’ll do anything, say anything, to put him at ease. To help him realise that these things are different for everyone. There’s no time frame he should be keeping to. Twenty years of age or thirty or forty or fifty, he could have come to you with these things worrying his thoughts, and there would never be any judgement. Only understanding. Only what he needs.

So, you slowly sit up, folding your legs beneath you and turning so that you’re facing him. “Would you like to practice now?”

He eyes you and swallows. And then he nods. “I would.”

You offer him a reassuring smile. “Come here, then.”

Just as you had, he pushes himself up into a sitting position. You can tell he’s tense by the way his wings fall about him; his shoulders squared. You reach for his hand and squeeze it gently.

“We already did this once, Az.” You remind him. “Just do what you did before.”

He nods — more to himself than to you. And then he’s scooting closer. His palm settles at your jaw.

He doesn’t go in for the kiss immediately. You allow him to do whatever he needs to do, whatever feels right. He seems content, for the time being, with dancing his fingers over the skin of your cheek, your jaw, your neck and the shell of your ear. His hand, scarred and callused, climbs and falls, explores each area with rapt attention. He takes note at the way your eyes momentarily flutter closed — an inadvertent reaction to his fingers skating over the pulse point of your throat.

“Is that pleasant?” His voice is deep, husky.

“For me, yes.” You clear your throat. “But I suppose not for everyone. Everybody has sensitive areas. That’s one of mine.”

You’re shamefully disappointed when, after a moment, his hand moves back up. It finds its place at your jaw again, and Az cups your cheek.

“Okay,” he whispers, and leans in.

There’s no chance for you to utter a word as he dips his head and presses his lips to yours. This time, there’s no quick, chaste peck to test the waters. Azriel dives straight in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that robs the breath straight from your lungs.

His mouth paws at yours, and you give yourself to the sensation, submitting fully to the practice. You want Azriel to take what he needs — to get a desired result from this — but as you kiss him back, you can’t help noticing the stiff, tense set of his body.

He’s not relaxed, not at all, and it shows. Something about this is bothering him, holding him back. Nerves, probably. Maybe even second thoughts. Whatever it is, you want him to communicate it, be honest about it.

So as much as you really, really don’t want to, you pull away, your face hovering a mere hair’s-breadth from Azriel’s. He seems to blink, and he licks his lips and stares at you with unguarded concern in his eyes. You know he’s already thinking a million things at once, wondering if he put a foot wrong.

“What is it?” You ask, making a grab for his hand. “You’re…tense. This is no different to what we did last week.”

Your friend stares back at you, conflict a war on his face. And for a split second, you start to think that he is having doubts, that he’s regretting having gone along with this.

And that…that would hurt. You’d understand, of course, because he’s your friend, and this is simply about helping him — but it would definitely hurt.

You don’t want to think too much about why that might be.

Rejection is never pleasant, you suppose.

“Az…” you chew your lower lip. “You can tell me. Whatever it is. If you want to stop this and just…talk…or do nothing at all…then that’s fine, too—”

“Kissing isn’t the only thing I’ve never done.”

The words leave him in such an abrupt gust that you’re stunned into silence.

You stare at him wordlessly.

Of course, it’s not that you haven’t considered that over the past seven days. Up until a week ago, you’d simply assumed that Azriel must have had a whole wealth of experience when it came to kissing people. And you’d turned out to be wrong. It wasn’t unusual to question whether there was more you didn’t know.

But you also knew perfectly well that sex didn’t require kissing. Az could have slept with a whole host of different people, and yet chosen — for whatever reason — to not kiss a single one of them.  He could have built up knowledge and experience in plenty of other areas without ever having explored what many would consider to be the first step.

You’d considered that Azriel might not have any sexual experience. And then you’d surmised that he most likely had.

That, it would seem, is not the case.

He looks more uncomfortable than ever, lowering his gaze and rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand. You want to tell him that none of that matters, that it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but the words simply will not come.

“I’m just…completely inexperienced. In every way.” He admits gravelly. “I’ve come close to doing things, but…I always overthink it. I don’t know how any of this is supposed to…to progress.”

Makes sense. It’s a daunting thing to explore, and even more so when you don’t trust easily. It’s perfectly reasonable that Az has protected himself from that pressure.

“Have you…” You clear your throat, desperate to make sure you’re handling this correctly, decently. “Have you ever done anything at all?”

His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m completely well-versed where my own pleasure is concerned, Y/N, trust me. It’s with another person that I have no fucking clue.”

Right. Got it.

Swallowing down a ridiculously huge lump in your throat, you give a slow, pensive nod. “Alright. Well…these things just…evolve naturally. One thing leads to another. The absolute worst thing you can do — with kissing or anything else — is overthink it. Do that, and it’s over before it begins. You just…follow your body’s lead and do what feels natural.”

Good fucking advice, if you do say so yourself. Azriel’s still-unsure expression is the only thing that stops you from giving yourself a well-earned pat on the back.

“Right. Follow my body’s lead.” Az sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. He clears his throat. “Can we continue?”

“If you want to continue, Az, we’ll continue.”

A small, soft smile lifts his lips, and it melts your heart a little. He’s genuinely grateful for your patience and understanding; you wonder if he truly knows that you’d give him, his kind heart, the entire world if you could.

But before you can sink too far into your mushy thoughts, Azriel’s hands are at your face once more, and he’s angling it up towards him.

You wait. Allow him to make the first move. He does.

He kisses you like your lips might disappear before his very eyes if he doesn’t. His mouth slants over yours, and that coiled tension is no longer making his body rigid and unnatural. He’s heeding your advice, relaxing into it, and this time, he doesn’t hold back.

His thumb sweeps your cheek, and his tongue sweeps your lip, and you’re opening up for him, allowing him to slip it inside to meet yours. At once, his taste is overpowering you, mixed in a little with the mulled wine he drank at the mead hall. It’s a song to your senses, and you’re desperate to hear it, feel it, from start to finish.

Perhaps that’s why you’re not really aware of the way your bodies move. Az is shifting on the couch and so are you, and while one of his hands remains at your face, the other moves down and slides gently to the scars on your back. It seems, for a moment, that he might tug you closer, but in one swift movement, he’s laying you down, and he’s tucked between your legs and hovering over you so closely. He cushions the remains of your wings, always concerned about your comfort.

Kissing him like this feels wildly different to kissing him sat up. It feels…intense and yet tender. Fast and yet slow. Like this could go anywhere and everywhere all at once. And part of you wonders if it should go nowhere. Perhaps you should stop. Helping Azriel gain confidence is one thing, but he’s your closest friend, and never before have you had your closest friend more or less lying on top of you, his body moving against you, while his mouth dances over yours.

Bizarre, really.

But you still continue to kiss him back.

Your hand moves up to cup the back of his neck, and you kiss him harder, graze your tongue over his lower lip—

He pulls his face away from you abruptly. Perhaps that was a step too far—

But something in the way he stares down at you, panting heavily, tells you it wasn’t.

“Where do you like to be touched?” He asks you, so gutturally that the words vibrate through you.

And they damn well catch you off guard.

You blink up at him, flustered, not sure you heard right. “I…what?”

Azriel then licks his lips. “I mean…where do you think Kaeda would like to be touched?”

Kaeda.

You’d forgotten about her. The reason that Az is even kissing you in the first place. Because he wants to be good for her.

The thought stings a little. You try to shake it off. “That…that’s something you’ll have to learn from Kaeda herself.”

He stares back at you. Studies your face. And he looks so…so genuinely daunted, that you search for something, anything, to put him at ease.

“But me…” You clear your throat. “I like to be touched in lots of places.”

He’s still staring at you in that strange, intense way. After a beat, he asks, “Will you show me?”

It’s your turn to stare at him then. You’re starting to think that perhaps the world has been turned on its head. You and Azriel, to each other, are familiarity and comfort. You’ve seen each other at your best and at your worst, been there for some damn near humiliating circumstances. This is the male who has bathed the blood of your own cycle from your skin and held your hair back when the cramps have turned your stomach. He’s listened to some of your most embarrassing stories without humour or judgement; just understanding. To him, you are an old, well-worn, well-loved pair of boots.

And he wants you to show him how to touch.

Never, under a million fucking sunrises, could you have predicted this would happen between you.

But you’re not recoiling from the request. You’re just…surprised. You’re not balking from it, nor running out of there screaming.

Nor has Azriel ever balked when you’ve asked for his help, his guidance. Not once.

You angle your body up slightly, just to get a better look at him. And you study him a moment longer. “…Az, are you…”

“I know what I’m asking, Y/N, and I’m sure.” He says without pause. “Show me how a female should be touched.”

Suddenly, you feel like the nervous, inexperienced one. You can totally say no, of course — Azriel would put a stop to it immediately if you did. But you don’t want to.

You want to do this. Want to help.

Your hand cups the back of his neck once more, and then you’re tugging his face down, pulling his mouth onto yours.

The kiss starts out slow and soft. There will be no rushing this for either of you. It’s an exploration, a way to trace the maps of each other’s mouths. You’re both desperate to know more, feel more, before this goes any further.

So, you follow your own advice. You told Azriel to trust in his body, follow its lead, and you now do the same. You want this to progress naturally, like…like it isn’t a transaction. Isn’t something that you agreed on beforehand.

There is no breaking from the kiss this time, even when you’re panting into each other’s mouths. Azriel’s hand is firm and pleasant at your jaw, and your tongues are intertwined, and you’re kissing like you want this specifically with each other. A fact you will not ruminate on,

You nip gently at Azriel’s lip, and this time, he does not pull away. He hums quietly — seemingly unaware of doing so — and applies a little pressure to your mouth. Kisses you harder.

And it’s then — then that you reach for the hand that’s settled at your jaw. You curl your fingers around Azriel’s wrist, and slowly, you drag that hand down.

You think you might be shaking a little, but you don’t give the nerves too much thought. Azriel allows you to guide him. His fingers brush over your neck, content to explore the soft skin there, but you keep that hand moving. The warmth of his palm permeates the fabric of your tunic, and the feeling is pleasant against your chest.

When you finally close his hand over the swell of your breast, you break away just to whisper onto his mouth, “I like being touched here.”

Azriel’s eyes bore into yours, heated and blazing. He swallows.

Clothed you might be, but there’s no undergarment between your shirt and your breast. The weight of Azriel’s hand falls heavy over the swell, and there may as well be no barrier of clothing with how delicious it feels.

His gaze remains on yours as he cups you in his palm. And then his thumb inches in, grazing over your nipple. You suck in a short breath at the contact, your back arching a little.

Azriel pauses. “Is…is this okay?”

“Yes,” you say, a little too quickly. “It’s more than okay, Az.”

A soft smile appears on his lips. You smother it with yours, pulling his face closer once more. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to kiss him again, or what you’re supposed to do amidst any of this, but it feels like the right thing.

This time, there’s no hesitation. Your kiss is hot and needy, and you find yourself bunching the fabric of Azriel’s shirt in your fist as he begins to more confidently explore your breasts.

He squeezes them, palms at them, traces the turgid peaks of your nipples, and you happily arch into it all. But then, without any guidance from you, his hand is leaving your breasts. Travelling down.

And you don’t breathe a word. You figure if he has a question, needs direction, he’ll ask. You kiss him as if you were always made for kissing him, and his fingers are dancing over your stomach, down and down.

“What…” he tugs his lips from yours, his fingers now at the waistband of your breeches, “what about here? Do you like being touched here?”

You stare up at him. And you’re supposed to be guiding him, aren’t you? So, panting, you fold your hand over his and move it down. Away from the waistband. Between your legs.

You fold his hand over the very centre of you. And you wonder if he can feel your heat through your breeches. It feels blazing to you, and torturously so. Like a fire has been lit between your thighs. You’re growing wetter by the second, and your scent must be filling the room.

“Here.” Your voice doesn’t sound like yours. It’s deep, smoky. “Right here.”

Azriel watches you closely. Watches your face as he applies pressure to your heat. His thumb presses down.

And you’re not thinking about his intense stare as a soft moan falls from your mouth. Your brow is furrowed, lips parted, and you want more.

“There?” The shadowsinger murmurs, repeating the action. Your moan is louder this time.

“Can you…” Already, you’re panting, but he’s not…not close enough. You grab his hand again, and you’re moving it back to your waistband. To the button on your breeches.

His eyes meet yours. He doesn’t need to be experienced to know what you’re asking from him. Sure, he could probably do this through your clothing, but surely skin-to-skin is better for his experience.

That’s what your selfish mind is telling you, anyway.

“You don’t mind?” Az asks. “I appreciate your help, but…I want you to be comfortable. I don’t want you to feel you have to do anything—”

“Azriel.” You clasp the back of his neck. “I really, really do not mind.”

For him, it will always be about making sure that you’re positive.

Your needy expression must tell him that you are.

You capture his mouth with yours, and this time, the moan comes from him. Kissing seems second-nature to him already. This one is fast and passionate and desperate, and yet he leans into it, gives himself to it entirely.

You don’t know how long you kiss for, but it’s possible that Az needs the time to build up to the moment. To get the nerve to actually cross that line.

You don’t push him or rush him. If he decides that this can’t go any further, you’ll stop immediately. You can see to the ache between your legs yourself.

But then, as his tongue rolls with yours, you feel his fingers at that button. Azriel pops it open. Your breeches part.

You lift your hips a little — a small encouragement. Az follows it. His touch is warm against your skin. His fingers slip past the waistband.

He pulls back to look at you. And he rasps, “Tell me what to do.”

“You can’t do anything wrong,” you pant. “Just…explore.”

He nods. Nods again. Draws in a slow, steeling breath.

And then he explores.

Not once does he look away from you. Not once, as his fingers slip between your folds. You bite down on your lip, not wanting to startle him. This is about him. This is about him.

His fingers dip tentatively through your damp heat. He drags them upwards, drenching himself with your wetness.

“You’re soaked…” He seems surprised by the fact. As though it’s unthinkable that your body would react in such a way to him. He explores more. “Really soaked.”

“Yes, Az.” You breathe. “That’s a good thing, trust me.”

He pauses his movements. And he’s entirely serious as he says, “I always trust you.”

And fuck, the sentiment makes you want to kiss him again, so you do. You yank him closer and slide your mouth onto his, and then his fingers are moving between your folds again.

They inch upwards with ease. And then one of those fingers is brushing over your clit.

You have no control over the way your hips jerk, bucking up into Azriel’s touch, or over the noise that rips from your throat.

Azriel pulls back to study you yet again. And repeats the action with more intent. “There?” He asks, and then adds, “Your scent reminds me of…of pears.”

“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, but yes, gods, there.”

Once more, his finger presses against your clit, and you’re gasping. His head cocks slightly, like he’s genuinely intrigued by your reaction. He watches you closely as he begins to circle the sensitive little nub.

You’re not wholly aware of the fact that you’re tipping your head back — not until Azriel is guiding it forward with his free hand and fastening your eyes on his once again.

“Can you look at me?” He clears his throat. “I just—want you to look at me.”

You swallow, and you nod. And you stay looking at him.

Even as his finger circles your clit again, and you feel the sensation like a lightning bolt through your entire body.

The pleasure is shocking. Your hips buck up into the sensation, and it seems to reward Azriel with confidence. His hand moves into a steady rhythm, his palm seeming to cup you and rub against you as his finger works at your clit.

You will not last like this. You never do. The stimulation is far too much, and you’re writhing beneath him, already feeling that tight, warm coiling in your lower belly — the sign of imminent release.

“Fuck,” you pant, rocking against Azriel’s hand. “Gods, Az, I’m gonna—”

Your words are lost, swallowed by his mouth closing over yours. Azriel kisses you, and he begins to move his finger in quick, flicking movements, and you’re gone, gone, utterly fucking gone, your body a swirling, weightless form as stars burst behind your eyelids.

The climax hits you so thoroughly that you shout into Azriel’s mouth, and you're grabbing at his shirt, simply needing to hold onto something as your hips undulate, desperate for more of the sensations he’s wringing from you and yet so incredibly sensitive that your body is already beginning to tremble.

And the second Azriel notices that you’re shaking, slumping back down against the couch cushions, his fingers cease their movements. He tears his mouth from yours and drinks in your expression.

“Are you okay?” He breathes heavily. “Was that…good?”

Good did not come close to describing what it was. There’s something magic about those fingers that still linger between your folds. You’re sure of it.

“More than good.” You gasp, your head falling back. “I just…need a moment.”

He pauses, before slowly, gently, tugging his hand out of your breeches. You think a whimper leaves you at the loss of contact. It’s an effort not to grab his hand and put it right back where you want it.

But instead, Azriel moves it up to your face. He brushes a strand of hair from your eyes, and his chest is heaving as much as yours as he leans down and brushes his lips over your cheek — an affectionate gesture. One he’s done a thousand times before.

It kind of…rips you from the moment, just a little. Reminds you that this is your closest friend who’s hovering above you. Who’s just made you come so hard, you saw stars. Who’s only doing this to learn.

You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure — but you’re stopped in your tracks by the door bursting open behind you.

You and Azriel move away from each other just as Cassian waltzes in. His lip is stitched up, but there are fresh marks at his neck; ones he seems incredibly proud of. You quickly fasten the button on your breeches before he can notice.

“Sacha and I worked things out.” He announces with a shit-eating grin. And then he pauses. Frowns. “Why does it smell like pears in here?”

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

[enidette]

CAUGHT carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — both are 18+, carl is a few years older than reader, reader is daryl’s adopted daughter, getting caught, pretty much perv and sub!carl

part two.

carl had his eye on you from the moment he’d met you. you were a meek little girl daryl found in the woods, that he later took under his wing. it was an unspoken thing that you had become his daughter, a carbon copy of your dad, badass, independent, great with a crossbow.

maybe at first you were just the only girl his age, but growing up with you, watching you go from skittish to, quite frankly, better at fighting than him made him fall for you even more. he liked how you did what you wanted and it was always smart.

it took over his mind, you took over his fantasies. he’d catch himself in the middle of the night, trying to relieve stress by getting off really quickly. his occasional routine of just trying to ease himself turning into teasing himself at the thought of your hands doing it instead.

he tried to be as quiet as possible but as time went by the urges just kept getting stronger. it went from a nighttime thing to something he’d do whenever he had the chance. it turned into looking at you doing such innocent things like standing in a way that made your shirt ride up, hell, even smiling at him had his brain spiraling in ways it shouldn’t have.

you were just being kind, there’s no way you could see into his horny little mind that just exploded after years of being locked away during such an unfortunate time.

oh but he should have known, that look in your eye that had him questioning whether it was all in his head or not. the things you seemed to do on purpose, like bending over and overexaggerating your movements getting up.

today was a little more obvious, you recently found a red bra on a run. it wasn’t normal to find cute things that made you feel confident, and when you saw it was your size you took it without hesitation. you wore a loose white tank top that’s strap would slide off onto your shoulder, tying it up to expose a little of your belly with the “it’s hot” excuse.

all that paired with that look in your eye sent carl reeling.

thankfully that day he was mostly home, and alone spare judith’s babysitter outside. he caught his focus flipping from his comic to you. he throws his head back at the thought of you showing him under your shirt, under your bra, everything.

he groans and slides his jeans off, wrapping his fist around himself and stroking slowly, just how he imagined you would. he just knew you would tease him, agonizingly slow movements, just torment he wouldn’t be able to get enough of. the tranquility of being home alone allowed him to let a few noises go, groans and whimpers of your name falling from his lips.

you make your way up the steps of the grimes’ house, meeting olivia on the porch. she held judith on her lap, giving you a small smile. “as much as i love her, i’m definitely ready to hand her over.”

you laugh and take judith, waving goodbye and making your way into, practically, your second home. you bounce judith on your hip, taking her up to her room. you could tell she was sleepy, not only was she sleeping when you walked up, but she was rubbing her eyes as well.

you coo at her and set her down, waiting until she was fast asleep to make your way out. you walk into the hallway deep in thought about what to do while you wait for her to wake up.

then there’s a noise, a soft one that pulls you out of your head. another one, this time a moan that you assume is pain initially. you furrow your brows and focus, hearing a breathless call of your name from the direction of carl’s room.

you slowly walk to his door, pushing it open just a bit to get a view of his body. you could see clearly he was fucking himself and thinking of you, all your conspiring paying off finally. you watch and wait, listening to his noises get more desperate and breathy as he gets closer.

you wait until he’s about to finish, walking through the door and slamming it behind you. he panics and tries to cover up, looking at you with embarrassment and pain from his ruined orgasm. you walk to him, bending down to tip his hat, your other hand going to graze over the tip of his cock.

his hips jut upwards and he sighs, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. you bring your hand back to your side and stand up, his curious, waiting eye following you as you pull a chair up next to his bed.

“i didn’t tell you to stop. put on a show for me, cowboy.”

[imtryingbuck]

Seven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 6,178

Warnings: fluff, angst, talks of child abuse - heavily. mentions of injuries and scars on a child. swearing

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

He first met her when he was seven.

The day started off as the same as those that came before; wake up, have breakfast, get ready and head to the east wing of his home to begin his tutoring. Have lunch, carry on with the schoolwork, and be done for the day.

Even after he said his goodbyes to Mrs Mars he was still stuck in a routine.

Day in and day out.

However that day was different because it was Friday. Every Friday his best friend Steve came to stay over for the weekend, every weekend they caused havoc. Not that Winnie or George minded, all week they saw their son miserable until his friend arrived on Fridays at 3pm, not a minute earlier and not a minute later. Sadly that hadn’t happened for three weeks as Steve and his ma had to go to Staten Island for a family emergency.

To Bucky Staten Island was on the other side of the world, so when he found out that Steve had to leave for a few weeks - well he kicked off.

He destroyed everything that was in his path, crying and begging his ma to stop Sarah from taking his best friend away. Promising her that if she let Steve live with them that he would be on his best behaviour, forever and ever he promised her.

Once he had exhausted himself out and grew tired the whole house went quiet.

For the three weeks that he didn’t see Steve he was quieter, he sulked at his desk and at the dinner table. He was restless, and as the Fridays approached and went by his attitude only grew worse.

Winnie nearly cried in response to hearing Sarah saying that her and Steve would be leaving the next day. Winnie oddly enough found some comfort in knowing that Steve was acting the same way as her beloved James. Winnie had decided that she wasn’t going to tell James about how on that Friday he was going to be reunited with his best friend, keeping it to herself and her husband in order to surprise him. 

A seven year old Bucky made his way in to the kitchen glaring at his mother when she told him that he needed to come with her, they made their way to the front door just as a knock cut through the silence.

“Open the door sweetie” she told him, ignoring the glare that was coming from her only son.

Not wanting to be in trouble with his father again he complied with his mothers instructions.

Hand on the door handle he opened the door, the frown he wore day in and day out for 21 days vanished when he sees his best friend standing there.

“S-Stevie?”

“Bucky”

“You’re back?”

“I am”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.“

Both Winnie and Sarah watched on as their sons talked and as Bucky pulled Steve into a bone crushing hug - which didn’t last long as Steve started to scuffle up Bucky’s hair, then both of them started to wrestle with one another.

“Come in Sarah, I’ve missed you my friend” They left the two seven year olds wrestling in the foyer.

Their wrestling match came to an abrupt end when Steve’s asthma got the better of him.

He was playing in the backyard with Steve when he felt eyes on him, Bucky chose to ignore the feeling thinking it was just one of the staff members keeping an eye on the pair.

“Buck get the ball” Steve shouted slightly out of breath.

Nodding he turns to where Steve was pointing, frowning at not being able to see it straight away. “Steve I can’t find it!”

“Do that means I win this round?” Steve shouted back.

“No! Why did you have to kick it so hard?”

“Because I’m the best!”

“No you’re not! I’ve found it!”

Bucky bends down to grab the ball, ball under his arm he stops when he hears someone talking. He knows he shouldn’t go and check it out but he’s never really listened to his father, so he drops the ball again and climbs over the fence that separates the woods from his garden.

“-Miss Ladybug come back”

He watches a girl; a little bit smaller than him with wild bushy hair, the dress she wore was ratty and ripped on the bottom. He notices dirt on her arms and neck and that she wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“-Mr Ant that tickles, what have you been up to today?”

“Ants don’t talk.”

“You scared me!”

He watches her spin around to face him, his eyes widen when he sees the dark bruise around her eye and her bottom lip having dried blood on it.

However even at seven years old he likes the bright colour of her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m Bucky what’s your name?”

“Y/n, Ducky’s a weird name”

“It’s Bucky not Ducky”

“Can I call you Ducky?”

“Fine. But I get to call you…um Bunny!”

“But my names not Bunny it’s Y/n”

“My names not Ducky but I’m letting you call me that. So Bunny what are you doing?”

The girl waves him over and smiles “Look Miss Ladybug and Mr Ant are friends”

“They can’t be friends”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense, Miss Ladybug should be friends with other ladybugs and not ants.”

“They can be friends.”

“They can’t”

“Yes the can!”

“Whatever. Why don’t you have shoes on?” He asks changing the subject.

“I don’t have any, what are you doing here?”

“Why don’t you have any shoes?”

“My parents are poor.”

“Mine are rich”

“Oh. I guess you live in that house over there?”

“Yeah, where’s your house?”

“On the other side of the woods. It’s super small and poorly”

“How can a house be poorly?”

“I don’t know but that’s what my mama says. Do you want to play fairies with me?”

From where they were stood they called hear Steve calling for Bucky, he watches as her smile fades slowly.

“I’ve can’t, got to go back to my friend. I can see you tomorrow?”

“Okay!” She beams up at him.

“Bye Bunny”

“Bye Ducky”

She watches him as he walks away, her tiny arm still waving side to side long after he climbs over the fence.

“Buck what took you so long?” Steve questions from his place on the ground.

“I-I met someone Stevie” Sitting down next to his friend.

“What do you mean?”

“Her names Y/n-“

“Her? A girl?”

“Yes a girl. She’s pretty Stevie, b-but she had bruises on her face and arms I thought it was mud at first but I got closer-“

“You met a girl that is pretty?”

Rolling his eyes “stop butting in! But yes, real pretty. I like her eyes”

“Bucky loves a girl, Bucky loves a girl-“ Steve sings as he runs around the garden.

“No I don’t!” Bucky shouts as he runs around after the blonde.

The next day Bucky leaves Steve in the living room so he could draw, his asthma had worsen over night so he wasn’t up to playing games.

“Go and see your girlfriend”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“But you love her”

“I don’t love her Steve! Stop saying that. I’ll be back soon okay?”

“Okay, have fun”

Climbing over the fence he wasted no time in going to the spot he had saw her the day before, frowning when he couldn’t see her.

“Y/n? Bunny?”

“Up here Ducky”

He looks up and sees her sitting on the branch of the many trees that filled the woods.

“What are you doing up there?”

“Hiding”

“From what?”

“The monsters”

“What monsters?”

“The worst kind of monsters” He’s about to reply when she drops down from where she was perched “they call themselves the tickle monsters!”

She laughs at his deadpanned look. “How old are you Bunny?”

“Six, you?”

“Seven. Can I ask you something?”

“Okay”

“What happened to your face?”

“My father is not nice. He drinks special juice and gets mad”

Bucky stands and watches her twiddle her fingers, feeling bad about asking her that question but he was curious.

“He gets mad and hurts me, I don’t know why but I don’t think he likes me very much. Do you like me?” She continues and asks.

“I like you. You’re my friend Bunny” Smiling when he sees her smile.

“I’ve never had a real friend before. Your my friend Ducky”

“I have another friend his name is Steve, he gets poorly a lot”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure but he’s great” Bucky states as he picks up a twig off the ground.

“Would he be my friend too?” Y/n asks and copies what he did, waving the twig around in the air.

“Maybe”

“I would like that.”

Y/n took him to her favourite spots in the woods, introducing him to the animals she named. He liked it, liked her.

“It’s getting colder” he says as they walk around.

“It is. You should go home, I’ll walk you”

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay out later my mama is at her job and I don’t want to go home just yet”

“What about food? You need to have dinner”

“I’ll eat some berries like always, father doesn’t know how to cook not like my mama”

“You can come with me if you want, my ma wont mind”

“I’m dirty but it’s okay. Will I see you tomorrow Ducky?”

“Your smelly too and yeah I’ll see you tomorrow”

“You’re smelly!” She giggles.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Bunny”

“See you tomorrow Ducky”

The next day after Bucky, Steve and their parents got back from church he ran into the kitchen to ask the cook to make him some sandwiches. Saying his thanks he leaves Steve once again to go and see his Bunny.

“Bunny what happened?” He says as he see her in the same spot they keep meeting in.

One side of her face was swollen with dried blood splatters darted across her face. Her left eye was completely swollen shut and her lip had been split again.

“Ducky you’re here! I’ve been waiting ages”

“I’m here Bunny but what happened?”

“I thought you wasn’t coming”

“Y/n what happened to your face?”

“My father got mad last night when I came home. I like your clothes”

“I had to go church, why was he mad?”

“He ran out of his special juice” she shrugged one shoulder.

“Have you had any food today?”

“Just a few berries. I won’t be able to play today my arm really poorly”

“I brought you some sandwiches the cook made them”

“You can eat them Ducky”

“It’s for you, eat and I’ll take you to my home and have my ma look at your arm”

“I can’t”

“Why not?”

“I’m dirty…I don’t want to get mud in your home, I’ll be okay promise”

“Don’t be silly Bunny, eat”

He watches as she carefully undoes the foil that kept the sandwiches safe, her eyes going up to his he smiles and nods. “We’ll have to take the long way round I don’t think you can climb the fence”

“It will get better just like last time Ducky, I’ll be okay. Thank you for the food”

“My ma can help she’s a nurse”

“I-I…I’ll be fine Ducky I swear it”

Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He was going to drag Bunny home to get his ma’s help whether she liked it or not. He didn’t know why but he felt such an overwhelming urge to protect her, he didn’t want her to have bruises on her pretty face anymore or see her pretty eyes sad.

He’s only known her for a few days and all he wants is for her to be safe.

Bucky watches silently as she devours the ham sandwiches, regret washing over him when he realises he forgot to bring a drink with him for her to have.

“Thank you Ducky, it was very yummy” she says as soon as she swallows the last bit of food.

“It’s okay Bun-“

The rest of his sentence dies on the tip of his tongue, Y/n looks at him with wide eyes, the fear drowns him whole at the monstrous booming voice coming from the other side of the woods.

“Y/n! Get home now you bitch!”

“I-I-I have t-to go. Bye Bucky” she whispers as she stands up on shaky legs.

“Bunny come with me” he whispers back afraid to speak any louder the monster will get him and his Bunny. He leans on his knees to hold her good hand as a way to get her to stay with him and not to go towards the voice that echos over the silent woods.

“I-I can’t-“

“Get back here you fucking cunt!” The voice sounds again, angrier and louder this time.

“Bye Bucky” She pulls her hand away and takes off running towards the monster that awaits her. Bucky can only watch, scared for his friend, his Bunny.

The woods fall silent once again.

On Monday after he was released from Mrs Mars’s clutches he runs into the kitchen to ask the cook if she could make sandwiches once again. Saying his thanks he runs through the doors and into the garden and over the fence.

“Bunny?”

No response.

Looking up in the trees to see if she was hiding again his shoulders sagged in defeat when she wasn’t there.

So he waited. And waited. And waited.

It was getting dark and truth be told he was kind of scared of the tall trees that looked mean and scary in the darkness.

Reluctantly he left, slowly putting one foot in front of the other just to see if she’ll come back to see him, before he knew it he was back at the fence.

Tuesday he did his whole routine and once again asking the cook for sandwiches he takes off to the woods.

“Y/n? Bunny it’s Ducky…”

No response.

This time he ventured further in and went to the places Y/n had shown him, coming up empty he made his way back to the spot. The hope he had disappearing when she wasn’t there waiting for him.

So he waited. And waited. And waited.

Like the day before he took his time in reaching the fence, however moving just as slower in hopes of hearing her voice.

It didn’t happen.

It was Wednesday and like the past two days he repeats his actions. Frustration and sadness are the only emotions he feels when he sees that she’s not there once again.

Bucky repeated his actions for two weeks straight. On the first Friday he had even took Steve over the fence in hopes that if she senses that he brought his friend with him that she’d come back to him. Steve thought he was going crazy, honestly. He generally thought that Bucky had made the whole thing up just to mess with him.

It was Saturday and it had been almost three weeks without seeing her. Bucky thought Steve was right about him making it up, he thought that maybe she was his imaginary friend but she looked, sounded and felt so real.

Bucky promised Steve that this would be the last day that he ventured out into the woods to try and find her. After helping Steve over the fence he climbed over and both made their way to the designated spot.

They’d been out there for a while when Steve spoke up.

“Buck come on she’s not real”

“But she is. I know she is”

“Let’s go please it’s really cold”

He was right, the winter air was getting colder now. Nodding he turns around and helps Steve off the ground, walking back in the direction of his home Steve speaks again.

“What did you say?”

“What?”

“Did you not just say something?”

“No what did you hea-“

In the distance he hears the voice that he had been wanting to hear for three weeks now, the voice belonging to Bunny.

“D-Ducky!”

He spins around and his heart drops. She’s there, getting closer to him and Steve. Her smile takes up most of her face as she limps as fast as she could towards the two boys.

“Bunny!” He says just as he takes off running towards her. His legs pushing him faster than ever before.

Once she was in reach he wasted no time in pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her, just like he seen his father do to his ma.

“Sweet Bunny you’re here” he lightly pants into her bushy hair.

“I’ve missed you Ducky”

“I’ve missed you too Bunny”

Steve stands just off to the side watching the scene in front of him. She’s real and his best friend isn’t crazy he thinks to himself.

Bucky slowly pulls away from her, his smile fading at seeing the damage and pain caused to her face close up. A cough from the side of them have their attention taken away from one another to the blonde standing there.

“Y/n this is Steve my best friend, Steve this is Y/n my Bunny”

“Hi it’s nice to meet you” Steve says waving awkwardly.

“Hi. Will you be my friend too?” Y/n asks shyly, burrowing in closer to Bucky’s embrace.

“Yeah but you have to be mine too”

“Yes!”

Bucky smiles before turning his full attention to Y/n. “Bunny…what happened?”

“I wasn’t allowed to come out. I was naughty”

“D-did your father do this?”

“Yeah. Hey look I lost two teeth” she smiled baring her teeth, and sure enough she was missing her two front ones.

“Where did you lose them?” Bucky chuckles.

“I don’t know” she shrugs with a giggle.

“Bunny I’m going to take you to my ma and she’ll take care of your face”

“It’s fine Ducky I promise”

“Ducky?” Steve questions with a small laugh following.

“His name is Ducky and I’m Bunny” she says proudly.

“That’s cute!”

“Steve. Shut up. Bunny come on”

Both boys have to convince Y/n to follow them and accept help, Bucky notices the limp she has was getting worse as they walked back to the fence and he worries that if they go the long way around she’s going to be in more pain so he tells his two friends that he’s going to help Y/n over the fence first then he’ll help Steve.

Easier said than done.

After struggling to pull himself over the fence for what felt like the hundredth time he gently took Bunny’s hand in his and marched off as if he was on a mission.

“D-Ducky…what if your ma doesn’t want to help and we can’t be friends anymore” She whispers as the trio get closer to the huge house.

“She will help you I promise and we’ll always be friends Bunny don’t worry”

Steve opens the door that leads into the kitchen and holds it open for the two, shutting it behind him he follows closely. Ignoring the muddy footprints that Y/n leaves behind her.

The trio follows the sound of music that comes from the living room, when they reach the room they see Bucky’s parents slow dancing to the hum of the song.

Bucky rolls his eyes.

Steve looks down at his shoes.

Y/n watches with a smile gracing her lips, her eyes following their movements.

“Ma” Bucky says loudly startling the couple.

“Jame-oh my goodness, James who is this and what happened?” Winnie starts before her eyes land on Y/n. Detaching herself from George she moves closer to the girl.

“This is Y/n she needs help Ma”

Winnie lands on her knees with a soft thud in front of Y/n, her hands going slowly and gently to the little girls arms - noticing her hand linked together with her sons. “Hello sweetie, I’m Winnie I’m going to clean your wounds for you okay? Would you like to come with me please?”

“O-okay” she says hesitantly her eyes going from Winnie’s to Bucky’s who nods and smiles at her.

Winnie takes her free hand in hers and waits for Bucky to untangle his fingers from the girl, she leads her upstairs to the bathroom, speaking softly to the girl as they go.

“This will sting sweetie but I’ll be as gentle as I can be, let me know if I’m hurting you okay” she says after she’s sat Y/n on the closed lid of the toilet.

“Okay”

Winnie takes a few wipes from the packet and moves closer to the girl who sits there swinging her legs back and forth. Slowly wiping the ray of cuts that cover the girls face she can’t help but wonder who would hurt such a beautiful creature.

“My son James, he didn’t do this did he?” Hating herself for even asking but she had to be sure.

“No Miss, m-my father is not nice”

“Your father did this?” Halting her movements she watches as the girl nods. “Where’s your mother?”

“Mama goes to her job”

“Where does she work?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in two weeks, do you know where she is?”

Oh how Winnie’s heart breaks.

“I haven’t sweetie, does your father hurt your mama?”

“Yes. Did you know that Ducky’s my friend”

“Ducky?”

“Bucky”

Winnie chuckles which causes Y/n to giggle “you call him Ducky?”

“Yes and he calls me Bunny. Why did you call him James Miss?”

“Call me Winnie darling and because James is first name, his middle name is Buchanan but Stevie calls him Bucky”

“And I call him Ducky” Y/n giggles loudly.

“You do. Sweetie do you have any more cuts that I need to clean?”

Winnie watches as her face drops and as she scoots further back on the toilet. Clutching her tatty dress a little tighter in her tiny hands.

“I-I can help you Y/n, it’s okay I promise”

“Yo-you won’t be mad?”

“No my love I won’t be mad”

Y/n pushes herself off the seat until she stands up, her eyes finding the tiled flooring more interesting as her hands pull the bottom of her dress further up her thin body.

Winnie had to slap her hand across her mouth as she sees the unmistakable light red lines of scars mapping across the girls’ very thin, bruised thighs.

“Sw-Sweetie, i-is there more?” Her heart cracking as Y/n nods again, pulling her dress further up until Winnie had to help in pulling the whole ratty thing off her.

She fights with herself trying to keep the tears at bay as her eyes dart around from one scar to the next. She fights off the thought of how any of them happened out of her head, she knows if she let that thought in she wouldn’t be able to sleep ever again.

“M-my father gets mad when he runs out of his special juice. It’s my fault because I’m a stupid bitch a-and a worthless cunt” her eyes go to the ceiling as she remembers the words that her father calls her most days.

“No no no my sweetie, you are none of them things you hear me? Y/n you are such a sweet girl, oh come here my sweet baby” Winnie says as she brings the girl into her warm embrace gently wrapping her arms around Y/n’s slim body, pressing light kisses to her forehead. She lets the tears fall freely.

Since Y/n wasn’t so use to feeling of loving hands on her she tenses up. She was confused by Winnie’s words and affection all she wanted was her Ducky.

After a while Winnie pulls away, wiping her tears with the backs of her hands she stands up on shaky legs. “I’m going to run you a nice hot bath, it will help. I promise” she turns to where the bathtub sat when she felt small hands tug lightly on her dress. Looking down she sees Y/n standing looking scared.

“It’s okay, here take my hand”

Filling the bathtub full of water she lets Y/n pull her underwear down and Winnie helps her into the tub.

“I’m just going to ask George to get some clothes for you and I’ll help you wash your hair okay? I’ll be right back I promise”

“O-okay”

“Bucky who’s that girl?”

“Y/n” he says as he watches his ma and Bunny go upstairs, he starts to follow when his fathers hand stops him.

“I know but who is she? Where did you find her?”

“In the woods-“

“You’re not suppose to go out there!” George scolds.

“I know! But I did and she’s my friend now”

Bucky really doesn’t understand what the big deal is, okay so he disobeyed his fathers order of not going over the fence but if he didn’t he wouldn’t have met Y/n.

George sighs and crouches down to his sons level “son what would have happened if you fell or hurt yourself and me and your mother couldn’t get to you huh? Listen son I’m not that mad at you okay, I just worry”

“I-I’m sorry dad”

“It’s okay. Do you know who’s hurt her?”

“Her father” he spits out in disgust “he drinks special juice and he hurts my Bunny!”

George is puzzled by what this special juice could of been before it clicks, sighing at the memories of him calling the alcohol that his father use to drink when he was younger comes up after so many years of repressing the memories.

“Oh son-“

“It’s not fair dad, why does he do it? She’s amazing and pretty and funny and weird and she’s my friend and sh-she’s my Bunny-“

“James breath! Come on son breathe with me a-and Steve, watch what we’re doing. There you go, oh come here sweet boy” George says seeing the tears fall from his sons eyes, pulling him into his arms he lets his son cry.

He hears sniffles coming from the side of him and he sees Steve crying too so he wastes no time in opening his arms for his unofficial adopted son for him to run into the hug too.

They stay in the hug before Bucky pulls away first, wiping his tears “dad can we go up and wait for ma to finish? I-I want to be with Bunny p-please”

“Of course, come on” he holds his hands out for his sons to place theirs in his before moving towards and up the stairs.

George and Steve sit down on the wooden floor as they watch Bucky pace back and forth, his eyes going from the bathroom door to the floor and back again.

“Dad what’s taking so long?”

“I’m not sure son, it’s okay though your mother knows what she’s doing don’t worry”

“It’s been so long though”

“Bucky come and sit down and tell me why you call her Bunny, ay?”

“She calls him Ducky, George” Steve giggles and George has to stifle his laugh as Bucky glares at Steve.

“Ducky, um strange. So Bunny?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and sits down next to his father “she calls me Ducky because she said Bucky was a strange name, I call her Bunny because she’s cute…like a bunny.” He shrugs, lightly tapping his knees with his fingers.

“I think Bucky loves Bunny” Steve tries and fails to whisper to George.

“I don’t love her Steven!”

“You sure James?”

“I. Do. No. Love. Her!” Bucky growls.

“Boys calm down, Steve stop winding Bucky up about him loving Bunny and Bucky just admit you love her” George laughs which gets slightly louder as Bucky starts hitting him.

“I do not! That’s gross! Girls are gross”

“Girls aren’t gross James”

“Yes they are. Bunny’s yucky”

Steve and George share a look full of mischief just as they start chanting “Bucky loves Bunny”.

“I hate you both!” Bucky says standing up to begin his pacing again.

“Buck we’re only messing with you” George starts “your right girls are gross and yucky”

“Dad can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can”

“Can Bunny live with us? I’ll be extra good and I won’t ask for anything for my birthday or for Christmas I promise”

“I-I’m not sure son-“

“Why not? Please dad-“

“Because she has parents Bucky-“

“Her dad hurts her!”

“She has a mother?”

“Yeah but-“

“Bucky-“

“I’ll run away and I’ll take Bunny with me.”

Sighing whilst sliding his hands down his face George is about to reply when the bathroom door opens, Winnie waving him over.

“Is Bunny okay ma?”

“She is darling I just need to talk to your father for a second”

“Can I see her?”

“Not yet, she’s in the bath. George can you go and get some clothes from James’s room please”

“Of course my love”

Bucky and Steve watches as George heads down the corridor and slipping into Bucky’s bedroom, not long after he comes back with a red checkered pants and a woolly sweater and some socks.

“Will this be okay?”

“Yes, thank you. How about you take the boys downstairs and start doing dinner? Make enough so that Y/n can join us” Winnie smiles trying not to look George in his eyes knowing that he’ll know that she’s been crying and she really didn’t want the boys knowing that their friend is covered in scars.

“Come boys you can help me, you have to make sure I don’t burn the house down”

Bucky waits until Steve and his dad is a little further down the hallway, turning to his mom he cocks his head to the side. “Ma…is she really okay?”

“She will be James, you should be proud of yourself for bringing her home to get help”

“Yeah…Ma I already asked dad but can Y/n live with us? I’ll be extra good I swear!”

“We-I-Bucky please go downstairs and help your father and Stevie with dinner”

Huffing loudly he nods and heads to the kitchen.

Winnies heart breaks as the hope vanishing from her sons eyes at the prospect of Y/n living with them. She couldn’t lie that the thought of having her in their home where she was safe and protected hadn’t crossed her mind, sadly she knew she just couldn’t kidnap the child no matter how bad her home life was.

“These belong to James but you can wear them, let’s get you cleaned up before we have some dinner”

After carefully cleaning Y/n’s body with the sponge and lavender body wash Winnie took her time in washing the girls hair, slowly untangling the knots apologising every time she snagged a rough one.

Once cleaned, dried and wearing warm clothes Winnie started on brushing Y/n’s hair, taking her time once again as the girls hair was curly and bushier than before.

“All done my sweetie. Let’s go and get some food in our tummies, yeah?”

“A-are you sure Miss?”

“Of course, you must be hungry”

Y/n nods and holds out her hand for Winnie to take, the woman does so with a smile on her lips and leads them downstairs to the kitchen. Steve was the first one to notice Winnie and Y/n standing at the archway he had to blink a few times to make sure it was really his new friend standing there.

“Buck” Steve whispers towards Bucky.

“What?” He whispers back.

“Look”

“Wha-Bunny!” Bucky noticing the blonde staring off so his bright blue eyes followed, landing on Y/n. Dropping the cutlery on the side he rushes over instantly pulling her in for a hug. “You smell nice an-and your hair isn’t wild no more”

“I had a bath Ducky!” She beams proudly, hugging him just as tight as he was.

Winnie’s eyes found George’s smiling sadly at her husband as she moves closer to him.

Steve stands there for a few minutes before slowly moving towards his friends and wrapping his arms around the pair.

“It’s called spaghetti and it’s nice” Bucky says showing Y/n how to twirl her fork around the food, after he had to stop her from picking up the food with her hands.

“It looks like wormies” she giggles.

“It’s nicer then worms Bunny”

She soon gets the hang of twirling the spaghetti around the fork and everyone’s taken back by the fact she’s the first one to eat every last bit of the home cooked meal.

“Would you like seconds Y/n? There’s plenty more left” George says already standing up to place more on her plate.

“Seconds?” She asks.

“It means you can have more Bunny” Bucky informs her.

“I-I-am I allowed Ducky?”

“Yeah, do you want so more?”

“Yes. It’s very yummy”

George piles more food on her plate, feeling rather proud of himself that someone likes his cooking - at the weekends the staff have the two days off and normally Winnie takes over cooking, on the rare occasions that George cooks everybody complains about it being burnt or undercooked.

“Thank you Mr” Y/n whispers before digging in again.

Her plate is once again empty before anyone else’s.

Y/n sits patiently waiting for Bucky to finish, her eyes fluttering around the room looking from one thing to the next when her eyes dart straight to Winnie who’s sitting there chuckling, Y/n has no idea what is funny but she starts to giggle too smiling widely at the woman.

“Darling what’s so funny?” George asks from his seat at the end of the table.

“Sweetie look at James for me” Winnie tells Y/n so she does. Bucky bursts out laughing when his Bunny looks at him with spaghetti sauce covering her lower face…and somehow a bit on her eyebrow.

“Bunny you’re messy again” Bucky laughs, taking his napkin and lightly and as gently as he could he starts rubbing the sauce off her face.

“Sorry”

“It’s okay Bun, all…clean”

“It just means that you enjoyed your dinner” George tells her.

“It was yummy. Thank you Mr Ducky’s dad”

“You can call me George sweetheart”

After dinner was done, they move into the living room, Bucky helps Y/n onto the couch and he sits next to her. Steve sitting on the other side of Y/n.

“Ma, dad can Y/n live with us now?”

“James I’ve told you it’s not that simple son” George starts before looking over at Winnie silently begging her to help him out.

“Your fathers right darling, she has a mama who is probably worried about her”

“But-“

“No buts James-“

“Please Ma”

“It’s okay Ducky, my father has gone away until Wednesday I’ll be okay and I’ll get to see you tomorrow and the next day”

“Sweetie…what do you mean? Where’s he gone?” Winnie asks.

“He said he had to go to Mexico for work, do you know where Mexico is? It’s super far away!”

“And where’s your mama?”

“I’m not sure I’ve not seen her in two weeks Miss Winnie doesn’t know where she is, do you know?”

“N-no I don’t sweetheart. Is there anyone at your house?”

“No”

“Who would be looking after you whilst your father is away?” Winnie then asks.

“No one, I have to go to my spot in the woods like before”

Winnie looks at George in what can be described as horror. George looks at Bucky who just shrugs.

“The spot you took me to Bunny?”

“Yeah…do I go now Ducky?”

“No!” Winnie and George shouts causing the three children to jump further backwards in their seats.

“No, we meant you can stay with us until Wednesday w-when your father gets back” Winnie says quietly.

“Yes!” Bucky cheers pulling Y/n under his arm “it’s going to be so much fun Bunny!”

Y/n giggles and nods.

Winnie tucks Y/n into bed in one of the spare rooms, she sits on the bed looking at the little girl as she brushes her hair out of her face.

“Are you okay sweetie?”

“Yeah, thank you Miss Winnie”

“You don’t need to thank me darling, would you like me to leave the light on for you?”

“No it’s okay”

“Okay, I’ll leave the door cracked open a little bit for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Night night my sweet girl, I’ll see you tomorrow” she bends down and places a kiss to the girls forehead. Winnie freezes by the door staring into the darkness as she hears-

“Night night mama”

She meets George in the living room where she breaks down crying, telling him what she had saw on the tiny body belonging to Bucky’s friend, her husband holds her and cries himself.

A few glasses of wine later they head to bed themselves, Winnie stopping as she sees Y/n’s door fully shut, opening the wooden door she smiles at seeing her son in bed with Y/n, holding her tightly in his arms.

George comes up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and smiles. Whispering to her that they should go to bed, Winnie closes the door quietly.

“Night night my sweet Bunny” Bucky whispers into the darkness, kissing her forehead lightly, he heads off to dreamland.

Next>

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx

[thereadinggremlin]

Guarded Hearts

Alright friends, this is my first fic and it is an Azriel x Reader, this is my first one and maybe there will be a second part but that’s up to you guys.

POV: you find out Azriel’s you mate but you start getting the could shoulder from him after he returns from a mission.

A/N: Like I said part one of probably 2, y’all let me know.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you just needed to get away. You found out that Azriel was your mate about 2 months ago, it didn’t shock you at all because you’ve loved this man your whole life. What you couldn’t stand was how much he had been ignoring you and giving you the cold shoulder.

You were in an official meeting with the inner circle when the bond snapped for you. Rhys had been talking about the uprising in some of the camps and how they would need to go and sort it out, they as in Cassian and Azriel. When Rhys had said one of the uprising camps was the one you grew up in both you and Azriel tensed although you didn’t note his reaction at first because in the tense emotions of thinking of back home, that’s when the bond snapped for you.

You thought maybe Azriel felt it too but you couldn’t be sure. You thought the bond would be this warm feeling in your chest but it just felt cold and distant. You would have to check with Rhys to see if that’s how he felt after he found out Fayre was his mate.

After the meeting Cassian and Azriel left immediately for their respective camps, Azriel going to the one you grew up in where your father and mother still lived. Luckily your mom was friends with Rhys mother from a young age so you were able to keep your wings and not get clipped but that didn’t save you from the full extent of your fathers wrath. That was a reason you were so scared for Azriel to go, he knew the whole history of how your father had treated you, the beatings and public humiliation being the smaller transgressions. Azriel had walked out of Rhys’ office so quickly after they were dismissed that you weren’t able to get a word in, you said your goodbyes and be safe to Cassian and when you went to find Azriel you found Mor instead.

“He already left lovey.” Mor said with a sad smile. You knew that her using that pet name for you wasn’t a good sign and that she could probably tell what was going through your mind. You ran away before she could get a word in otherwise because the tears would fall.

Everyone left you alone for the month Azriel was gone sensing that there was something going on and that if you wanted to talk about you would find them. Fayre tried talking to you but you shut her out immediately.

When Azriel and Cassian got back you were in the dinning room enjoying some breakfast, as they passed by you Azriel didn’t even look at you and Cassian gave you a weak smile. You tried to feel down the bond but there was absolutely nothing, just cold and dark, it made your heart break.

Over the next few weeks you were thinking that giving Azriel space would be the answer and that he’d be coming to join you in either training or in the library for a night cap like he used to do so often before the bond snapped for you. There was nothing, you never ran into him even though you could hear his foot steps throughout the house as if the house wanted you to know where he was. There were also times when you’d see some of his shadows lurking about, some would come right up to you as if you were their master and swirl under your hair and around your neck. Maybe they were here on his behalf and maybe they’d report back to him, you didn’t know and tried not to care.

Once a month hit from his return of your home camp you needed to get out, get away, it was all too much. You found yourself outside of Rhys’s office at the river house once your mind was made up.

“Are you sure you want to go away for that long?” He had asked you.

“I want the same thing that was given to Fayre, time up in the cabin alone and sheilded so that no one knows I’m there. I need a break” Your eyes had a pleading look in them with a tinge of heartbreak too.

“When do you want to leave” Rhys said sighing in disbelief. The house of Wind has been your home for many years, and he didn’t think that any of the jobs he’s given you were so strenuous that you needed to be away from your family.

“I’m ready to go now, I packed my bags before I came to see you. And I want Mor to take me, if you take me there will be too many questions.”

Surprised at you readiness to leave he agreed and got in touch with Mor, she appeared almost instantaneously making you think she was just outside listening in. “Ready to go lovey?” She had asked, you nodded your head too afraid of speaking just in case your voice broke. “Then off we go.”

You arrived at the cabin up in the wilderness within a moment and when you walked in and saw all the artwork, you wanted to cry. Having your family all around you while being so far away brought you some comfort but not much. You looked to where the eyes were and found Azriel’s right away.

“Do you need anything, want me to stay for a bit?” Mor asked breaking you out of your trance.

“No I think I’m good, just need to be away from everything, everyone.” You said trying to add a laugh in at the end but the sound was strained and laced with pain.

“Who’s ass do I have to beat, because I don’t care who it is, I’ll beat them up for you. Just give me a name.” Mor tried to get you to laugh but a look in your eyes showed that it was a love problem and although she didn’t know about the bond you have to Azriel, she does know that you’ve had a crush on him for centuries. “Maybe, he’ll realize what was missing since it’s not in front of him anymore.” She said with a weak smile.

You returned the smile and with sad eyes responded “Yeah, maybe.” And without saying goodbye she left knowing that if you spoke anymore that might be your downfall and it would all come out.

Two weeks you had been up at the cabin in pure silence and peace. You brought some books with you in order to pass the time, not like you’d get bored but you were lonely. Rhys and more stayed true to their word so far and haven’t tried to visit or try and get through your mental shield, you also went as far to build a wall up to the bond, feeling nothing was better than feeling the coldness that it brought with it.

It was when you were picking out your next book that you saw it from the corner of your eye, a shadow, and the second it realized you had noticed it, it vanished. Your heart rate picked up because now you didn’t know what was going to happen but your rapid thoughts caused you to drop your shields and you felt worried beyond any understanding and then Rhys speaking into your mind “I’m so sorry”

[beskarinhyperspace]

A Ripple In Space

"What can I say, I’m an extreme individual.."

More Chapters | MASTERLIST

6. Negotiations

*Mature, Explicit, NSFW*

Kylo Ren x fem.reader

* angst, hurt/comfort, touch starved kylo, dubious consent

WC 3.7k 

Meanwhile Kylo was still on duty, taking a break in his office. His meetings were painfully boring and long. He wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place. Which made every one of them more bitter.  

Since leaving the Finalizer, his only desire was to get back home to you. Home.. For the first time in a very long time, Kylo was feeling a sense of belonging and going through his day was a challenge by itself. He was unable to keep you off his mind. The way you smelled, your skin, your lips, everything about you was intoxicating to him. You were all he could think about. He particularly liked the way you boss him around. Like he was not one of the most dangerous and feared man in the galaxy. He liked that you were not bending to him even when you were scared.  

It has been two days since he last saw you and somehow it felt like a lifetime. His mind kept drifting to the last night you spent together. His cock slowly pushing inside of you, stretching you open with a tit in his mouth. Urgh, he sighed deeply in frustration. He could already feel himself twitch as he became harder under his desk. What he hated most in all this was that he couldn't talk to you. 

I really need to fix that, he thought to himself before the com-link on his wrist beeped. 

*” Incoming, Supreme Leader” * 

“Listening trooper.” he replies. Quickly brushing his lustful thoughts away. 

*” Not sure if it's something worth mentioning but it’s about the girl.” * 

A pinching sensation crawls into his chest knowing exactly who he was referring to, “what about her?” 

*” Prisoner 226 is in medical. They are running tests on her.” * 

Kylo starts to panic imagining the worst, “what happened?” 

*” Unconfirmed, she's been unconscious for the past twelve hours sir.” * 

“Twelve hours??” His voice laced with rage. Closing his eyes, he tries to collect himself.  “Prepare my ship, now.” he ordered. 

*” Copy that.” * 

He puts on his helmet, rushing to the guard standing just outside his door. “Tell General Hux that I have an urgent matter. I don’t want to be bothered for the next forty eight hours.” 

The soldier simply nodded in agreement as Kylo clenched his fist going for his vessel. 

As he set the coordinates, his mind kept going back to you and the way your soft lips were saying his name. His real name. He hadn't heard it in years. He made sure to erase everything from his past and didn't want to be reminded of anything from it, but he knew he couldn't hide from you and truthfully, he didn't want to. 

Kissing you goodbye was difficult enough. Not only because he wished he had more time with you, but he also felt bad every time he left. As if he was leaving something important behind and didn’t want to let go. 

-- 

Arriving to the Finalizer, he landed quickly, rushing to the medical wing. He completely ignores the soldiers and the officers who were patrolling around. His heart hammered in his chest while he ran through the ship’s corridors. Finally, he reached the ship's clinic but started to panic when he saw no one else around. That was until he heard a voice coming from behind. 

“She's going to be fine.” The feminine voice reassured.  

He removed his helmet, turning around to look at the nurse, “what happened?”  

“Probably just a simple virus.” She replied plainly. 

Kylo’s eyebrow raised slightly, “a simple virus doesn't do this..” 

The woman’s face remained emotionless. “She was previously malnourished. Her body is still fragile and weaker against those types of viruses.” 

He clenched his jaw knowing it was partially his fault. “Can I see her?” he asked calmly even though he didn't like the way she was talking down on him. Plus, he didn’t have the time nor energy to argue with her.  

She simply twisted her lips and guided him to you. When he arrived at the room, his eyes were automatically drawn to a device on the side of the bed with pouches of liquids hanging from a hook on the wall. You were still asleep and plugged into maker knows what machine. As he approached, he noticed how faint your breathing was.  

He turned back to the nurse, “Is she stable?” he asked hurriedly. 

“Yes, it still might take a few days for her to be back on her feet—” 

“I'll take her to into my quarters. Prepare whatever she might need.” He cut her right off. He didn't want to leave you in this cold, lifeless place. He wanted you to be as comfortable as you possibly could. He hated seeing you in here. So small, so fragile, so vulnerable in the open. 

“She hasn't woken up once yet. I believe it would be best for her to stay here– “she stopped, and for some reason she was getting more tense than before. Sensing Kylo’s gazed intensely watching her. She took a deep breath before continuing, “What I meant to say, supreme leader, is she will be better taken care of here.”  

He nodded, “Then I'll stay.” His voice came out calm and soft. She watched him take a seat on a chair that was beside the bed before nodding herself and walked away. 

He took a moment just watching you asleep, tucked in your grey metal bed. His body was slowly coming down from the adrenaline, now knowing that you were safe. “You’re perfect.” He sighed, pushing the hair away from your face. His gloved fingertips delicately stoked your cheek, “You shouldn't be here. You wouldn't have gotten sick if you weren't here..” 

-- 

The first thing you noticed was the cold breeze on your bare legs and the thin fabric covering your frame. As you finally opened your eyes, you found yourself in a small white room. The air felt cold and more recycled than ever. Which made you shiver slightly as you regained consciousness.  

Turning your head slowly, you see Kylo asleep in an armchair that looked half a size too small for him next to you. His hair, unmistakably tousled from his helmet while his pink lips were slightly parted. 

As you lowered your eyes, you noticed a clip attached to your fingertip. Without hesitation you unclipped the device. Making the machine emit a rather loud beeping sound.  

Without missing a beat, Kylo shot his eyes open with a hand going for his lightsaber. Freezing himself in his movement, as he looked straight at you. “You're awake”, more like an observation than a question. 

You tried to speak but your throat felt dry. Making you choke slightly as you tried to talk.  

“Don't move, I’ll get you some water.” He rushed out as he quickly rose from his seat. 

‘Don't move’, you laughed to yourself. As if you could go anywhere. You can't help but notice how adorable he looked trying to help you. But your smile quickly fades as you sense something odd. As you look around, you start to panic. Where am I? Why am I here? You asked yourself, trying to figure out what happened, and then it hits you. He killed his father.. It was the last thing you heard before losing consciousness.  

As if knowing you were thinking of him, he come back with a smile on the corner of his lips. A smile? A happy smile? Walking around the ship with a smile? When was the last time you saw him do that? Did he ever do that? 

He came closer, giving you a half a cup of water, “Here, drink it. You'll feel better.” 

You drink it in silence. Making as little eye contact as possible. He didn’t seem to notice, until; “Are you hungry? I can ask the nurse for someth—” 

You stopped him, feeling slightly on edge, “No it's fine, I feel fine.” you replied sounding anything but fine. 

He frowned, his smile disappearing into a line. “What's the matter?” he asked cluelessly. 

You shake your head. Right now, was not the time. “No, there's nothing.” 

“C’mon sweetheart, we're past this. I’ve watched you for months. I think I would know when you have something on your mind.” he scoffed. Turning his head to the side, insulted that you’d take him for a fool. 

You sighed, taking a deep breath. There was no way around this. You had to be honest with him. “Is it true? About your father?” 

His jaw clenched before slowly moving his eyes back to you. “What is?”  

You felt the energy in the room shift. A lingering heaviness floating, but you had to ask. “D-Did you, kill him?”  

“Yes” he replied simply. His eyes watching you surprisingly unfazed. Your chest squeezed at his response. Cutting the air in your lungs. Noticing your reaction, Kylo got up from his chair again. “You should rest” he tells you softly. Not giving you a chance to stop him. You watched him leave in silence as he moved through the door, putting his helmet on. Feeling too drained and exhausted to stop him on his way out. 

- 

The next day you woke up feeling energized. The nurse surely knew how to make Liacynth tea. You felt almost brand new. After getting dressed, you start going back to your quarters and back to Kylo.  

Well, that was new. You would've expected him to lash out, yell or even destroy something. Instead, he just got up and left. I mean this man was more confusing every day. Unpredictable really. 

As you stepped inside the apartments, the doors automatically closes behind you. You stood in the entrance and glanced at the state of the place. Everything was trashed. Random broken pieces of glass were scattered on the floor. One of the kitchen chairs was undoubtedly thrown into the wall. Even the dining table was cut from the middle to its edge. Maybe you spoke too soon. Looks like he did rage after all. 

You walked carefully to the bedroom. Seeing the door being halfway open. “Ben?” You asked cautiously. Pushing it as you entered the room cautiously. Seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed. His back turned from you. He was holding his head in his hands while his helmet was on the floor in a corner. “Ben?” You tried again and he slowly raised his head. Turning his body slightly in your direction. His eyes were small and red. His hair was still tousled and unclean. His lips, maker his lips, plusher than you have ever seen them. “What happened?” 

Without making a sound. He stands up, coming closer to you. Taking a good look at you up and down, “You're so pretty,” he says, “so good, so pure and beautiful.” He lets out leaving his lips slightly parted as his eyes were staring at you pained. He looked faded out as if he hadn’t slept in days.  

You sigh, “what happened?” 

He takes a moment just staring at you before answering, “You” 

“What?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

He takes a deep breath, “How do you feel?”  

You look at him, then you look around you, “hum, confused?” 

“I meant physically.” 

You let out a deeper sigh, “Good, I’m slowly getting back on my feet”  

“Good” he replied simply. Passing you by as he went into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water.  

Growing impatient you followed him, “you didn't answer me, what happened ben?” 

He drank his water slowly as he watched you. He was so damn irritating sometimes. He knew what he was doing by making you wait. Taking his last sip, he placed the cup on the counter before looking back at you. His eyes were small and heavy. “You should rest. You were injured. I’ll take care of your work schedule.” He dismissed you again. 

You start to get frustrated, “why don't you want to answer me?” 

“Why are you always asking so many questions?” He growled back. But you remain silent, only watching him with a defiant look. He scoffs, turning his gaze to the side. “I already told you.” 

You smiled from the corner of your lips, looking down. “So, you trashed the place because I’m good and pretty? Yeah, that makes sense...” 

He came slowly closer, his body only inches away from yours, “and pure..” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, “You don’t know me, I am definitively not pure.” 

He clenched his jaw “more than me.” he says, taking a deep breath. “I-” he cuts himself off, searching for his words. “I don’t deserve your attention.” 

You squinted your eyes at him, “What are you on about now?” 

“This, all of this wouldn’t’ve happened if you weren’t here. But here you are, trapped on this ship, MY ship!” You could feel the frustration and annoyance in his voice. “You think you would’ve let me talk to you out there? kissed you?” He brought his gloved hand to your face. Brushing his fingertips gently on your cheek, “Touched you?” He scoffed, closing his eyes as he removed his hand. “Of course not, how could you?” Looking almost disgusted at himself. 

“Everyone is deserving of affection-” 

“--Not me” he said stepping back. “I take, I hurt, I destroy, I kill...” Before looking right into your eyes, “I killed my own father!” And there it was. The wound at the center of it all. Even if he was smiling you knew how much it was destroying him. “I saw it in your eyes, the way you looked at me?” You could clearly see the pain in his eyes, and they were shooting straight at you almost pleading.  

“How long ago was it?” You asked in a low tone. 

“A year, and I was too much of a coward to inform my mother of my actions.” Replied with disdain. 

“I’m sorry.” You let out softly. 

He remained still, almost in shock. “What?” 

“I said I’m sorry” 

He tilted his head intrigued, “But you haven’t done anything, it’s my fault.”  

You sigh, “It’s true. I don’t know what happened in your past but, everyone is deserving of love...” 

Confused, he came closer again, “Aren’t you scared of me? Of what I can do? I know you are.” 

You closed the gap between you and brought your hand to cup his cheek, shaking your head. “I see you; I don’t know why but I just know you wouldn’t hurt me. Not on purpose at least.” 

“Like I said, pure...” He smiled faintly, passing his thumb on your bottom lip. “Could I–, can I kiss you?”  

You stayed silent and simply nodded as he brought his lips onto yours. Letting a deep breath out of his nose as he took you in. Wrapping his arms around your waist to squeeze you before bringing a hand lower, going for your butt.  

You smiled against his teeth, “Ben, we can’t. This needs to stop..” 

“Stop? Hyal, can’t you see what you’ve done to me?” He removed his hand from your bottom to grab yours, playing with your fingers. “I would do anything you’d ask of me.” 

“That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?” You raised a brow. 

He looks into your eyes softly, “What can I say, I’m an extreme individual.” 

You roll your eyes, “I’d like to take things slow. You know, get to know you more?” 

He smirked, “I can do that.” 

Raising an eyebrow, “Really?”  

Nodding, he gives a chaste kiss at the corner of your lips. “Go get yourself clean. You must feel uncomfortable after passing days in medical.” 

“Says the man who has greasy hair.” 

He smiled looking at the floor, “uh yeah, past couple of days had been challenging to say the least. Go ahead, I’ll go after you.” 

-- 

As you were about to close the faucet and step out, Kylo enters. “Don’t mind me I'm just taking a quick one.” 

You shook your head, watching him enter in the small space with you, “You’re unbelievable.” 

“What? I was called. Couldn't wait an hour for you to be done.” he teased as he washed his hair. 

You stared at him with your mouth open, “I don’t take an hour.” 

“Sure, you do” he says rinsing himself from the lathered shampoo. “First time you stayed here.” 

“That was months ago!” you protest.  

He smiled, giving you his hand to take before pulling you closer to him, “You’re right, in all honesty, I wanted to see you and your beautiful body before I go.” he admitted, passing the back of his fingers on your nipple, moving down to your stomach. You gasped, feeling them harden to his touch. Seeing your reaction, he smirks. Nibbling his bottom lip. “You really don’t understand hyal. You’re all I can think of, All- the- fucking- time.” now swiping both of his thumbs over them as he watches you lean your head back slowly. Looking more than satisfied, he let out a low growl, and brought his lips down to your chest. He took one of your nipples in his mouth. Suckled and flickered his tongue on it while his thumb continued to play with the other. You couldn't hide it anymore as you start to let go some pleasured noises.  

“Oh sweetheart, you really like that don't you?” He teased, his voice low and soft. “How about this?” You felt his thumb leave your tit before feeling two of his fingers moving through your folds. Swiping and quickly gliding as you started to coat them. You couldn't stop the desperate growl that escaped your lips even if you wanted to. You needed this, wanted this, you wanted him. He let your slippery nipple roll out of his mouth, “Yeah? Does that feel good?” You nod, moaning with your mouth fully open as he comes back, brushing his tongue on both of your nipples. While his thick fingers were stretching you so deliciously slow. “shit..” he let out almost a whisper. His eyes full of lust seeing how well you were taking them in. He began to pump them faster. While his other hand squeezed a breast within his reach. His tongue fluttering on your sensitive peaks. 

“Please Kylo..” you cried out, feeling that warmth boiling up between your legs. 

He stopped moving completely and removed his hands from you. “Not yet.” He says, as he lowered himself down. Feeling his hands spreading your thighs gently open.  

“What are you--” you didn’t have to finish your sentence that his lips were around your clit. Softly pulling and sucking. “Ohh” you let out smiling. Closing your eyes as you relax in his touch. 

Putting your thigh over his shoulder, he brought back his fingers to your entrance. Pumping each one of them a couple of times before leaving you feeling empty. Curiously you opened your eyes to look at him.  

His back was curved while his wet hair danced on the inside of your thighs. Hearing his low and small desperate moans as he was fucking his fist covered in your slick. Followed by the sound of his lips smacking on your pussy hungrily as if he couldn't get enough.  

The wet noises that echoed in the background made you feel somewhat powerful. Here you were on the finalizer, a star destroyer, with one of the most beautiful and dangerous men in the galaxy. Who in this moment, was kneeling between your legs as he pleasured himself, pleasuring you. The thought of it alone was enough to drive you closer to the edge as you let out some uncontrollable whimpers. 

“Mmm that's it.” Noticing you were getting closer; quickening the pumping of his fist. “Be good and come with me sweetheart.”  

He started to move his tongue and lips around you faster, sloppier. Making your legs shake as you finally came on his slippery tongue. He followed with a low growl as he saw you become more relaxed. Leaking in his hand shortly after.  

“I wouldn't call that taking things slow.” You finally let out, breaking the silence.  

He smiled as he looked at the state of the both of you. “Well, I needed a taste. I'm sorry, it was selfish of me.” 

“You are definitely not sorry.” you replied scoffing, teasingly rolling your eyes.  

He chuckled, “you're right, I’m not sorry.” A grin appeared on his lips, “I wanted to see that sweet, hot body of yours shake and twitch in my hands. In all honesty, I don't even have to go anywhere today.”  

“What?” You gasped, slapping him on the shoulder before he starts to pull away. Rinsing himself under the running water. “You're despicable..” you followed. 

He laughed at your comment, “Tell me something I don’t know.” 

“Urgh.” you grunted out as you were about to walk away, but he quickly gripped your wrist, pulling you closer to him. 

Yet again you felt intimidated by the way he towered over you. He locked his eyes onto yours and seemed to notice as he released his grip. Bringing his fingers back to your cheek. Softly brush the tips of them against your skin. “I was serious when I said I would do anything you asked me.” He pushed the hair out of your face, “if that's what you want, then you should have it.” He followed by moving lower to your ear, almost a whisper, “but by the way your soft and needy pussy clenched around my fingers, I’d say that you're not sorry either.” He smiled when he saw how pink your cheeks were turning. Giving you a small delicate kiss on your neck, “I promise not to do it again only if you also promise me one thing.” 

You closed your eyes, sighing “negotiating?” 

He chuckled, “I am not going to touch myself until you give me the permission to touch you again.” He stops, licking slowly and softly the same spot he just kissed. “...and I want you to do the same.”  

Your eyes shoot open, “what?” 

He chuckles, “you heard me.” He says firmly. Taking your hand, planting gentle kisses on your fingers. 

You took a moment. Thinking about these new sets of rules. You nodded in confirmation, and he smiled, cupping your cheek before tilting down to kiss you on your temple. 

----

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[buckybuckyboo]

All for him

Summary: Your dad owes the Mafia boss money after a deal goes bad and he didn't think he would have to give his daughter up to him.

Word count: 2,488

Warnings: none really

part 1.

Mr. Barnes owned everything in your town so all business deals went through him. But when your dad's plan and money fell through, Bucky was furious. He sat behind his big desk looking at your dad and then spoke.

"What's your plan now huh?"

"I- I don't know, maybe if you could give me some time I can-"

"Stop"

Bucky cuts him off and nods to one of his security guys who walks up to your dad and starts searching his pockets. He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and throws it to Bucky who searches through it.

"You've got 5 dollars and some family photos, let's see what we've got here hm? Wow, your wife is beautiful" he smirks.

"But your daughter, now there's a sexy woman"

"P-Please Mr. Barnes, don't hurt them. They have nothing to do with this"

"Hurt them? No, I wouldn't do that" he gets up from his chair and moves around to the front of his desk sitting in front of your dad.

"I'm gonna do you a favor and take your daughter under my wing"

"What? Noshe doesn't belong here"

"Well you should have thought about that before losing all my money"

"I'm sorry, I really am but please, don't hurt her"

"Hurt her? I wouldn't dream of it unless she asks for it£ he smirks.

"You have two days, if I don't see her here I will come get her myself. Don't even think about skipping town. I have eyes everywhere. Two days!"

He walks out of the office leaving your dad sitting there with his head in his hands.

When your dad gets home, he asks you and your mom to sit down and talk. He tells you both that the deal went bad and that Mr. Barnes wanted something as payment.

"Okay, so you just have to get him his money, right Dad?" you say softly.

"No honey, he wants you".

"What?!" you and your mom both shout.

"He wants to take Y/N under his wing he said"

"What does that mean Dad? He can't do that right?"

Your dad takes your hand, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry honey, it's out of my control. You have to be there in two days"

Hearing those words come out of your dad's mouth broke your heart.

"How could you do this to me? What does he want with me? I don't want to be part of a gang"

Storming off to your room and slamming the door. How could he do this to you? He was just going to give you away to this stranger that you have never met before and he was dangerous. You nearly spoke for the next two days. Anytime you think about it, it just makes you cry. You had packed up most of your important stuff and waited. Sitting with your mom saying your goodbyes. Whenever your dad would talk to you, you wouldn't listen. This wouldn't be happening to you unless he had his shit together. There was a knock at the door and your dad went to answer.

"Hello sir, I'm here to take your daughter to her new place"

"Yes, hello Mr. Rogers, please come in"

He opens the door letting him in along with two other guys.

You see them come into the living room and stand with their hands crossed in front of them.

"Are you him?" you ask.

"No honey, this is Mr. Rogers. Mr. Barnes' security. I'm guessing he won't be coming?"

"No, he is away on some business but he will be back tomorrow to see you Y/N".

You glare at him, you hate every single thing to do with this guy.

"I'm not leaving! I don't wanna be part of that crap!"

Steve smiles "I'm a sorry sweetheart but a deal was made, you're coming with us"

Running up to him and hitting him on his chest

"You can't do this!"

"I'm just doing my job sweetheart"

Steve nods at the other two guys and they grab Y/N taking her out to the car and coming back for her bags. Steve walks over to your dad handing him a letter.

--x--

"You and your wife have to leave town, take what you can carry, and don't come back. This house belongs to Mr. Barnes"

Steve leaves closing the door behind him leaving your parents to pack and leave. The whole car ride back to his mansion you cried. You didn't know what was going to happen to you. The car parked and Steve got out and opened your door and put his hand out to help you out of the car. Your shaky hand reached out to his and you got out.

"Please follow me, your bags will be brought up soon"

You follow behind him as he escorts you to where you are staying.

"You will be staying here for tonight. Mr. Barnes will talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night"

He closes the door behind him leaving you alone.

The next morning your breakfast was brought to you in bed. Whenever you would ask a question you never got an answer. You take a shower and spend the rest of your day sitting in your big window seat watching the world go by. You were not sure what time it was but there was a string of cars outside. Then I saw a man get out of the back of one of the cars and come inside. After a few minutes, your door opens and you see Steve, he just stands there with his hands crossed and you think about running by him and running away from everyone. But as soon as you thought that he entered your room.

"Hi doll, sorry I wasn't around yesterday just had some business to deal with"

"Like murder?" you talk back making him chuckle.

Even though he just met you he knew he was going to love you.

"No doll, just checking on my investments"

"So now you're just checking on another investment right!?"

He chuckles and turns to Steve. They talk for a moment and then Steve leaves closing the door behind him leaving you and Bucky in the room. He sits across from you on the window seat and gives you a sweet smile. He moves closer, placing his hand on your cheek making you flinch.

"I'm not going to hurt you doll, Iment what I said to your dad. I'm taking you under my wing". His thumb brushed over your cheek "You're so beautiful, all of my competitors will be so jealous that I've got you on my arm."

You look at him confused and take his hand. He walks you outside to his little hidden-away guest house.

He leans in trying to kiss you making you lean back and blush.

"Don't be shy doll"

"I'm not shy I've just never-" you mumble.

"Never what?"

"I've never been with anyone, never even kissed a guy"

Bucky stands and holds his hand out to you to take.

"Come on, I wanna show you something."

"This is yours for the next few months, but you're not allowed to have any visitors. My men will be on guard" he opens the door for you to enter and follows behind you. He watches you as you look around.

"Everything here will be taken care of. I will join you most evenings for dinner"

When your head cleared you started to look around the house. It was really nice, everything you needed. You sat down on the big bed and took a deep breath. "I'm- I'm all for him"

"So will you be joining me this evening?"

"Yes." you turn around and look at him.

"I'm sorry I don't understand"

"What do you not understand doll?"

"Well, Mr. Barnes. What am I doing here? Why are you being nice to me? My dad owes you money, right? Soam Ia thing to be thrown around by your friends?" he walks over to you placing his hand on your cheek "Call me Bucky. And no, you're not for my friends. You are for me"

"Foryou?"

He leans in, his lips almost touching yours but he leans back looking into your eyes.

"We are going out for dinner tonight. Be ready at 7" he smiles and leaves the little guest house. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest.

--x--

It took you longer than you thought to pick out something to wear for dinner. You settled on a nice red dress with some black jewelry and a purse to match. When you walk into the living room, Steve is standing there.

"Hey, you look beautiful. Mr. Barnes is waiting outside, can I let him in?"

"Um, sure"

Steve smiles and goes to let him in. When you see Bucky, he is wearing a nice suit, his hair tied back into a bun and he smells amazing.

"Good evening sweetheart. You look stunning tonight"

"Thank you, Bucky, where are we going?"

"My friend Sam owns the place. Best food you will ever eat and it overlooks the lake"

"Wow, I can't wait!"

He smiles and holds his hand out to you and you both walk to the car. He opens the door for you and makes sure you are safely inside before getting in himself. Steve and a fellow guard are in the front.

The car ride was quiet. You honestly didn't know what to say to him or what to talk about but the ride wasn't very long. The guards got out of the car and opened the doors. Bucky came around to you taking your arm and wrapping it around his as you both walked in. The restaurant looked amazing, it was packed with people. As soon as you got in a man came up to both of you.

"Mr. Barnes! Nice to see you again"

Bucky shakes his hand and hugs him "Hey Sam! How has everything been going?"

"Good man good! We've got your table ready for you over here"

"Thankyou Sam, this is Y/N"

Sam takes your hand and kisses the back of it "It's very nice to meet you! Please, follow me"

Both of you follow Sam to your booth and Bucky steps back letting you sit in first, then he sits in beside you.

"Please, both of you enjoy your night and order whatever you like cause it's on me!" Sam smiles and leaves to go back to the kitchen.

"This is really nice, you own this too?"

"No, I did help Sam get started and he paid me back. It's all his I just get a table whenever I show up" he smiles.

You smile back and let your eyes scan over his body. He tilts his head at you and says "See something you like?"

"I guess I had you wrong Mr. Barnes. I thought you would be demanding, shouting, beating people up, killing"

He leans in cupping your cheek with his hand "Call me Bucky. I'm pretty easygoing unless someone does me wrong or if anyone dares to touch you"

His thumb rubs over your cheek.

"Can I ask you a personal question baby?"

"Um, sure I guess"

"You've never been with anyone sexually?"

Blushing and shaking your head no.

"I will wait till you are ready. I won't sleep with you till our wedding night"

Your heart skips a beat "Why me Bucky? I'm sure you can have anyone you want"

He smiles and kisses your cheek "I want you".

Your body starts to lean into him going to kiss his lips but the waitress interrupts.

"Hi guys what can I get you tonight?"

Bucky clears his throat and orders his usual. You were trying to pick something quickly from the menu but you were just so overwhelmed "Let me sweetheart"

"Og great," you thought, he's gonna order salad and I'm gonna be starving for the rest of the night. But you were wrong, he ordered you the 8oz steak and wine.

"Thank you"

"You're welcome baby girl"

He asks you about your childhood and asks all sorts of questions trying to get to know you. The food and wine was amazing, there was so much that you couldn't finish. "Can I get the rest of this to go? It was so good I don't want to waste it"

"Of course! I'll sort that out for you" The waitress takes everything away from the table.

"Let's go out on the balcony and look at the view hm?"

"Yeah, that sounds nice Bucky" he stands and waits for you to get out of the booth and leads you out to the balcony. The cold air instantly hits your bare shoulders and arms making you wrap your arms around yourself. Bucky sees this and instantly takes his suit jacket off and places it on your shoulders.

"Thank you, should have thought about a jacket"

"That's alright sweetheart I'm happy to give it to you"

He stands behind you rubbing your arms as you both look out at the water. You turn around looking at him and smiling and he gives you a big smile back, leaning in and kissing your lips softly. Your hands instantly wrap around his neck. His hands wrap around your waist pulling you closer. He gently swipes his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for entrance and you let him in. His tongue gently massaging against yours.

You don't know how long the both of you have been making out but when he pulls away you whine, leaning into him trying to catch his lips again and it makes him laugh.

"Easy baby don't want you getting tired of me" he jokes making you smile.

"Come on doll, gotta get you home"

"I don't wanna go home"

"I know but Sam doesn't have any beds here". You playfully slap his chest laughing. He signals Steve to bring the car around and you both get in. When the car starts on its way back bringing you home, you lean over kissing Bucky again and he pulls you closer to him. His jacket falling off your shoulders. Pulling him down on top of you in the back of the car.

"Not like this baby girl, want to make everything special for you"

"I know, I just can't help it"

As the car pulls up to your house, Steve gets out of the car, opening the door for Bucky and then Bucky comes around to your side to open the door for you. He walks you inside the house and hands you the leftovers of food from the restaurant.

"Thank you for dinner Bucky"

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Can I come see you tomorrow after lunch?"

"Sure, I don't have any plans" you laugh. He leans in kissing your lips softly and then your forehead "Good night doll. see you tomorrow"

"Good night Bucky"

[jinns-arcane-feverdream]

Love Without Words

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Chapter Two

Chapter One

The sound of funeral bells rings in my head as I button up my jacket. Dark colors adorn my body as I look in the mirror. My hair doesn’t quite cooperate, but it doesn’t matter; my hood will be up, at least until I get inside. Then? Well, I’ve changed. I don’t fit that respectable image anymore - I never did. That’s part of the reason why I left, the main reason. When you live somewhere you don’t belong for too long, you get desperate and flee. You cut ties, throw away all you know, for a life you hope fits you better. And I was lucky enough that my new life did.

As I adjust my jewelry, I think back to the times where I would do this for weekly events. My mother - no, abandoner - would stand behind me as I used the mirror to perfect my look. It was never to her liking, though, and she always ended up shoving earrings into my lobes in places where there were no holes, scarring me over time. Now, I go to a piercer to get new earrings shoved through needle holes in my ears. It’s cleaner, healthier, and better. 

I find earrings that fit well enough with my dark attire and quickly slip them through my piercings. I use my finger to straighten out my septum before I turn to leave the bathroom. My apartment isn’t much, but it’s good enough for me. No one in the undercity has much, unless you’re a Chem Baron. My boots aren’t shiny or new, and there’s plenty of scuffs in them, but they’re the most comfortable shoes I have - and they go with my outfit.

“I’ll be back later, don’t get up to any trouble while I’m gone.” I lean over to look at my little betta fish swimming over to the glass to look at me. “I know, I haven’t spent enough time with you lately. But I promise that I will make it up to you,” I tell him. After reaching for his food, I drop a single pellet in for him to eat. “No more until I get back, I don’t want you to get dropsy.” Huy, my fish, stares at me with his beady black eyes. His mouth opens and a bubble comes out, signaling that he probably burped. 

A laugh slips from me before I stand and head to the front door, and my smile slips as I sigh. It’s not fun going to Piltover, but this time, it feels necessary. An old friend’s mother has died; someone who used to occasionally provide for me. The least I owe is my condolences to my friend and her father, and a brief respect given to her mother. Though, she is part of the reason I fled - I’d become a burden to her and her family. I was an orphan who took too much from her. I was needy, and she was rich. I was wild, she was proper.

The door closes firmly behind me and I quickly lock it. A few whistles ring through the air as friendly neighbors bid me goodbye. I offer a brief wave behind my back before beginning on my trek. No one knows what I’m up to, not even my closest friend - well, he’s more like a brother. My actual closest friend had been in Stillwater for the last 7 years, and as soon as she got out, Vi began running around with some random chick, trying to find her sister and save her. We only knew each other for a small amount of time before she was thrown in prison, but I managed to visit her often due to my connection with the guard - it helps to be an orphan in need of guidance, and he was kind enough, or maybe dumb enough, to take me under his wing. I have another friend as well, Ekko, who brought me into the Firelights group. We met one night while I was walking back to my apartment after visiting Vi. I’d gotten surprised by one of the firelight creatures when it landed on my arm. Ekko had been chasing it, and coincidentally ran into me. After that, he’d let me into the group and their home; a beautiful place with a real tree at the center.

Back to my ‘brother’. His name is Thieram, and he works at The Last Drop—my first stop on the way to Topside. Coincidentally, due to me visiting him often at work, I became sort-of friends with Jinx and Sevika, mainly due to the fact that Silco’s office was above the bar. I only ever saw the man in brief passing because when Thieram would see him come in, he’d make sure I looked anywhere but at his boss. He always warned me that one wrong glance would earn me Sevika’s knee in my jaw.

“Where are you off to wearing such a gloomy outfit,” Thieram asks as I walk into the building. 

I take my normal seat at the bar and take that shot he offers me. “Piltover.”

“Topside? How come?” he questions while preparing me another shot—he knows how much I hate going up there, even if it’s for business. He’s heard plenty of drunken rants to know exactly what I would say to any question he’d ask after I returned Underground.

“Friend’s mother died, felt like I should at least show up for once. Haven’t seen her in years anyway, it might surprise me to see what she’s become,” I explain before throwing back the second shot. “Thanks.”

“‘Course. You sure you wanna do this, though? No one’s forcing you to go up there.”

“I should go,” I sigh, taking the glass of water he offers. “I kinda miss my friends up there, ya know? Sure they weren’t the best and didn’t really understand me, but they did their best. I think.”

“You have friends?” he jokes, and I crack a smile. “There it is, I missed those crooked teeth.”

“My teeth are not crooked, thank you very much. Although your nose still is from the last time I broke it.” The snark comes naturally, and of course, he has a quick retort.

“I’m not gonna bother fixing it, knowing how dirty you like to spar,” he laughs, and I join in with him. 

I slip off my bar stool and stretch, a groan coming from me as I do. “I better be off now, Thier,” I say with a crack of my neck, “Sorry I can’t stay more than a minute, I don’t wanna be Topside when it gets dark. They’ll probably think I’m some filthy Zaunite robber,” I snicker.

“Wait, you aren’t?” he asks, faking exasperation.

“I mean, they don’t need to know I am,” I laugh before reaching over the bar and trying to slap him playfully.

“Hey! Knock it off! You don’t slap the guy who gives you drinks,” he says while glaring at me. “Now, go on and git.” He sticks his tongue out at me, an action that I playfully copy.

“See ya later, Thiery,” I say while waving as I walk out. He smiles and waves back, offering me the same salutations. As soon as the door closes behind me, my mood drops again. I’m not glum about her mom being dead, as bad as that sounds. I’m upset about having forced myself back up there, a place that never fails to push me back out each time I venture across the bridge.

Nobody seems to notice me as I walk through the lanes, but the second I step onto the bridge, the eyes of multiple enforcers are glued to me. I keep my head down, trying not to draw any attention, but some young, probably new, enforcer bee-lines to me and blocks me from walking any further.

“State your business,” he says while glaring at me. “And take off your jacket, you’re getting a search.”

“A search?” I ask bewildered, “What did I do to be searched?”

“You came from the Undercity. Now answer my question before I detain you for being difficult.”

I open my mouth to protest before biting my tongue. I pull my jacket off and forcefully shove it into his hands while he signals someone to come over and pat me down. “I’m going to pay respects to an old friend whose mother died recently,” I explain, “hence the dark clothes.”

“And what is the name of this friend?” he asks as the other nods to signify that I’m clear.

“Does that really matter? You won’t believe me, anyway,” I huff. He opens his mouth to object before a superior officer comes over and tells him to let me pass as I had cleared the search. He scoffs before throwing my jacket back at me, but not hard enough, causing me to have to move forward to catch it before it hits the ground. I spit next to his shoe before slipping my jacket back on and pulling the hood back up. I don’t look to see who the other enforcer is, not caring about who came to my ‘rescue’.

As I walked along the bridge, I glanced at the water to my side. I’d never been good at swimming, but there was always the urge to jump in and let the slow current carry me along. The River Zaun looks peaceful, despite being disgustingly polluted and full of who knows what kind of creatures. The rays of sun reflect off of it, catching my eye and causing me to look away. A dot is in my vision now from the brightness, but it’s a welcome change compared to the constant darkness and glow of the Undercity.

I cringe at the sound of my boots on the tiled street of Piltover. My heels seem to produce an echo that reverberates down the row of buildings, and I feel as though it’s a summoning, an alarm that a Zaunite has wandered up to Piltover. Enforcers pass by as I walk the familiar route to my friend’s house; they tend to be more prominent in the rich neighborhoods, probably due to wanting to protect the wealthy more than anyone else. How else would Piltover fund their excessive police force and academy?

I stop at the end of the street to gaze at the gates before me. The metal glints in the sun, and I feel small as I watch them rise into the sky. They don’t send an inviting message, but I force myself to walk over anyway. To my surprise, they’re open, and I walk through them and up to the door. I knock once, softly, before knocking harder, twice. I take a few steps back before putting my head down and waiting. After a few moments, Mr. Kiramman answers the door.

His eyes are wide as I look up at him. It takes only a second for him to recognize me, and once he does, he immediately moves to the side to let me in. “We’ve wondered about you,” he admits to me, shattering the awkward silence. 

“I’ve been alright,” I respond simply, “is Caitlyn here?”

“Yes, I can let her know that she has a guest. Would you like me to tell her it’s you?”

I think for a moment, considering the options. “No, I think I would like to surprise her. Maybe it could be…something to bring a bit of joy to her, in this hard time.”

Mr. Kiramman nods before leading me to a sitting area. “I’ll go let her know, then,” he says before turning and taking a few steps.

“Wait,” I say, stopping him in his tracks. He turns back and looks at me, and I give him a small smile. “I never thanked you guys before. I know it’s probably far too late, but I appreciated everything you did for me, no matter how big or small.”

He smiles briefly before looking down as the smile fades. “We could’ve done more. But Cassandra-”

“I give my condolences for your loss. She was a strong woman. May you find peace in her honor.” I cut him off, not needing to know any more of how Cassandra Kiramman had always thought of me as lesser, an orphan mooch. Mr. Kiramman nods before turning again and heading to find Caitlyn, understanding my tone as one indicating our conversation is over.

After a minute, I hear steps ringing through the house. I stand and face away from the stairs I knew she’d be coming from. I can’t bear to face her yet, not after so long, and not after her mother’s recent death.

“I was told you were here to see me?” Her voice sounds hollow, and I can sense the emotional drain she has gone through. “Well? Are you going to turn around?”

I take a deep breath before speaking as I turn. “I…should have visited sooner,” I say before looking up. Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back, resting a hand on the arm of a chair for support.

A mumble of my name leaves her lips before she lunges forward and wraps me in a hug. “I thought you were dead, or in jail!” she cried into my neck. “I…I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! Where have you been? What have you been doing?”

I slowly pull away and glance into her eyes, seeing a mix of excitement, relief, and hurt. “I…well, it’s a long story,” I admit with a sigh. “It’s not why I’m here. I wanted to offer my condolences—”

“I don’t need any more of those,” she cuts in with a sigh. “Please, sit. Can you tell me anything about these past 6 years?”

I sit and think for a second before nodding softly. I fidget with my hands for a second, deciding how much to spill. “I fled to the Undercity. I realized that I’d fit in better down there, being a poor orphan and all. Topside…well, you know I never fit in here. You and Jayce were the only ones who gave me a chance, but even then…” My words trailed off. I didn’t want to make her feel bad about her past actions, or those of her mother. “I eventually joined a…morale raising group. We embrace the possibility of a better Zaun.” Caitlyn stiffens up in her seat as I speak, and I stop when I can tell she has something to say. 

“A morale raising group? You’re not a part of Silco’s crew, are you?”

“No,” I quickly deny, “they’re kinda our rivals down there. We fight for control, for influence. The group I’m in, we’re more about peace and bringing people together. Silco’s crew…they’re more about fear tactics, forcing people under their control.”

“I see,” Caitlyn says before relaxing again. “It was one of Silco’s people who killed my mother. I had to make sure you weren’t a part of it.”

I shake my head no before studying her outfit, realizing why it seemed familiar to me. It’s my turn to stiffen up in my seat, and I divert my eyes from her enforcer uniform.

“Is there something wrong?” Caitlyn asks, having noticed my sudden tension.

“You’re…an enforcer…” I comment, meeting her eyes again. “An enforcer.”

“Yes, it had always been my dream since I was little,” she explains. “Why? Is that a problem?”

“A problem? Do you understand what enforcers—no, nevermind. Don’t worry about it.”

“Not all enforcers are bad,” she counters me, “We have orders and directions we have to follow. Sometimes they’re more harsh than normal due to external factors.”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Cait,” I sigh, “I need to go soon anyway.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything bad about the Undercity. It’s just-”

“No, I get it. Your mother was killed by one of us. You’ve grown up and lived in Piltover your whole life. You don’t know what it’s like down there. You don’t know what it’s like for us to see an enforcer.”

“Us?” she questions, her brows furrowed in confusion. “You think you’re one of them now?”

“Yes, I am. I’ve been accepted into the world down there, unlike how I was tossed aside up here. It’s…refreshing, feeling like I belong somewhere. But, again, I need to leave. I don’t want to be stuck here when it’s dark.”

Caitlyn glances at the ground for a second before perking up again. “Have you visited Jayce?” she asks as we both stand. “I can give you an escort to his lab if you’d like.”

“I don’t need an escort, and I wasn’t planning on seeing him. I’m only up here to offer you my condolences,” I explain. “And…I don’t think Jayce would be happy to see me.”

“He misses you more than you know,” she counters. “Please, let me have someone take you there. Or I’ll write down the directions if you feel more comfortable. I’ll just have to give you a note with my official seal to show the guards. Please, just visit him for me.”

I roll my eyes before obliging, letting her quickly scrawl out a note for me, and directions on how to get to the lab. “Thanks,” I say while placing the note in my pocket. I’ll…see ya,” I say, a wave of sadness washing over me again. In a second, her arms are around me again, and I return the hug. “I miss you, Cait,” I whisper to her.

Her arms tighten around me before she responds. “I miss you too. Please visit.”

“Sure. I’ll try.” It’s a lie, and we both know it. She hates the Undercity, and I hate Topside. When we separate, we offer weak smiles to each other before I turn to walk out. As the door closes behind me, I let out a long breath. My heart is racing, and I feel it pick up as I see Vi walking past the gates. 

“Vi? What are you doing here?” I ask in bewilderment.

She says my name in surprise before running up the steps to be next to me. “I’m here to see Caitlyn. What are you doing up here?”

“Same thing. Caitlyn and I were friends before I fled to Zaun. How do you know her?”

“She’s the one who got me out of Stillwater and helped me look for Powder. We’re…dating, I think.”

“Dating? You’re dating an enforcer? What the hell, Vi? They’re the ones who killed your parents!”

Vi steps back, startled by my sudden anger. “Yeah, but Caitlyn wasn’t the one who did it! My sister killed her mother, how do you think that makes her feel seeing me?”

“Vi,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, “those people think we’re dirt. They don’t care about anything other than oppressing us and trying to scare us. How could you be with one?”

“You don’t understand,” she huffs, “you don’t know what she’s gone through, or what she’s like. She doesn’t just go down there to harass us. She does her job.”

“The job of enforcers is to harass us. I can’t believe you would just…switch up like that.” I throw my hands in the air in emphasis of my words. Vi holds eye contact with me for a second before scoffing.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. I gotta go, I’ll see you around.”

It’s my turn to scoff as I shake my head and begin walking away. Soon enough, I’m past the gates and back on the street. I walk quickly, wanting to get my day of reunions over with as fast as possible so I can go back to The Last Drop and have a drink with Thieram. 

The sun is just past midday when I see the building Jayce is supposed to be in. Of course, a guard of enforcers is stationed outside. I groan internally while walking up, and a young ginger girl stops me from going any further. A man that is possibly a Vastaya lingers back, watching the ginger enforcer carefully. I don’t pay attention to him, or how his frills seem to twitch up when he looks at me.

“Hello, do you have clearance to be here?” the ginger girl asks.

“Yeah, I have this note from Caitlyn Kiramman,” I say while handing it to her.

“Caitlyn? You know her?” the ginger asks excitedly. “She’s such an inspiration to me, I could listen to her for hours.”

“Uh, cool,” I say casually, not sure how else to respond. “I’m just here to see Jayce Talis.”

“Oh, I could escort you in, unless you know your way around,” she offers kindly. “Don’t need a good looking person like you getting lost in there,” she jokes casually. 

“If you just tell me the directions I’m sure I can find it.”

“Alright,” she says, a flush of slight embarrassment covering her face in her failed flirtation attempt. “I’ll write them down on the back of this note for you.”

“Thanks,” I say while shifting awkwardly. I spare another glance at the other enforcer, and catch him quickly looking away. His ears twitch but I don’t think anything of it, and turn back to take the directions from the ginger. “Thanks,” I say again before she steps aside to let me continue in.

The halls are large and empty, and I feel a chill roll through my body as my shoes once again echo as I walk. I check the note and make a turn, quickly coming up on the door I needed. I’m surprised at how easy and fast it is to get here, but I suppose it’s easier for Jayce to reach his work quickly when he makes a research breakthrough.

As I walk into the lab, it’s dark and cold. I pull my jacket tighter and cautiously step in. A tall thing catches my attention as it lights up the room. It looks like there’s a body inside it, but I can’t tell what it really is.

“I told you I need to be alone, Mel. I…I don’t want to see you right now.”

“I’m sorry then, I suppose, since I’m not this ‘Mel’ person,” I say slowly as I step into the light. 

Jayce sits up in his seat, snapping his head in my direction. He exclaims my name before standing and walking toward me. “Is…is it really you?” he asks, reaching out to touch my arm.

I resist the urge to move away from the contact and let him feel that I’m not a dream or a hallucination. “Yes, it is. Last time I checked, at least.” I crack the small joke, and his eyes fill with joy before he wraps his arms around me and lifts me up, spinning around with me in his arms. “Alright, alright, put me down!” I say firmly before he sets me back on my feet.

“I’m sorry. I just…it’s been so long! Me and Cait, we were so worried! You didn’t even leave us a note!”

“I know, I’m sorry. I thought it would be best to just disappear, though,” I explain. “I…I didn’t mean to hurt you guys.”

He smiles softly at me. “It’s okay. I…guess I could understand. Feeling like disappearing is the best option, I mean. My best friend…it’s my fault he’s like this,” he says while waving an arm toward the thing with the person in it. “If I would’ve done more to prevent the Undercity from getting Hextech, he wouldn’t be like this.”

I look at the floor, a wave of hurt washing over me. “It’s not the Undercity that’s the problem. It’s a certain individual. One of Silco’s people.”

Jayce glances at me for a second before nodding and looking away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I should go,” I say, beginning to turn to leave.

“What? Already? Wait-” Jayce reaches out and grabs my arm, and I pull it out of his grip.

“I don’t want to ruin anything, since I’m from the Undercity,” I snap at him.

“I said I was sorry,” he counters, “please, let’s…let’s catch up!”

“No, Jayce. I need to get back before it’s dark. You don’t understand how dangerous it is for a Zaunite to be near enforcers at night, especially when we’re in Piltover.”

“I can escort you back. I’m a Councilor now,” he counters again. “Please, you’ve been gone for so long. I miss you.”

I shake my head without looking back at him. “I’m sorry, Jayce. It was a mistake coming here. I only came up to give Caitlyn my condolences then leave. She made me visit you. Goodbye, Jayce.”

I quickly leave the room and head for the doors, not wanting to waste another second up here with friends who don’t understand me. Guilt washes over me as I push open the front door. I ignore the sounds of Jayce calling for me as I descend the stairs, but when I step off and take a few steps down the street, Jayce catches up to me. The two enforcers from before perk up, but he signals to them that everything is okay.

“Please, just…keep in touch, or something,” he says. I look at the desperation in his eyes before shaking my head.

“I’m not the friend that you remember me as, or think that I am. I’ve changed, Jayce, and so have you and Cait. I don’t belong up here, I don’t belong around you guys. We’re from two different worlds, and I’m choosing to return to mine. I’m leaving yours behind.”

“What if we meet on the bridge, once a week? To…I don’t know, stay connected?”

I look in his eyes again, and shake my head while offering a sad smile. I grab his hands and squeeze them briefly. “Jayce, I will always have love for you and Caitlyn in my heart. But I cannot do as you wish. I have a life, responsibilities. I…I could send you mail, once a month, but that’s the extent of it.”

Jayce drops my hands and shakes his head, sadness covering each part of his expression. “Why? Why come up here just to leave us again? Why visit just to say goodbye?”

“Because, Jayce,” I explain softly, “it’s closure. For me. For you, for Cait. Our friendship can be laid to rest now, and we can save our memories for times of reflection.”

“I don’t want you to just be a memory, though,” he begs, “why does it have to be this way?”

“It’s what I need to move on in life,” I explain before taking a few steps back. “Goodbye, Jayce.”

With a final turn away, I leave behind my childhood friends, and make my way toward the bridge. As I cross over, the sun sets, causing a range of beautiful colors to dance across the sky. I take a moment to observe it, remembering how I used to come down here as a child to watch it whenever I didn’t have homework or chores. I lean over the railing to look at the water, feeling the soft breeze flowing around me. I step up onto the railing, feeling the urge to feel taller, to let the breeze carry me.

A sudden strong gust, and my heart drops as I feel myself fall forward. A quick reaction, and someone is pulling me down and to secure ground. My eyes are wide as I tremble from the jolt of fear. A hand rests on my arm, and I turn to look at who it was that helped me. The male enforcer from outside Jayce’s lab pulls his hand away, but I can see the unasked answer in his eyes. “I’m good,” I breathe out, “thanks.” He nods and gives a small smile before stepping back and giving me more room. I quickly get on my way again, making my way across the bridge before descending into the Undercity.

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[atinylittlepain]

Chapter Three

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: dark themes surrounding history of domestic violence, references to physical injury, heavy emotions (hope can also be heavy)

a/n: all i have to say is thank you for reading, and i'd love to hear what you think

...............................

If I could go

Baby where you go

If i could know

Baby what you know

Then I could see

Baby what you see

Baby Where You Are - Ted Lucas

.................................

Dolores isn’t Dolores anymore. It hadn’t been on purpose. Something Joel had found himself calling her, something that she didn’t rebuke or reject. Something that fit, all her flight and fret, the fragile flinch of her feathers. Get too close, and watch her flee, winged reaction. Give her space, and watch grace move, gentle as she can be, kind as she can be. A new name that still somehow fit. It had slipped out around town a few times, enough for it to catch. 

“Thanks, Dove. Why don’t you come by the shop this afternoon? Got a coat in that should be about your size, and you’re gonna need one pretty soon.” Patty is right. Fall is coming in with a sharp tooth this year. The wind picking up, blowing in bite. Mountains turning over in a blaze of death, everything starting to crisp and singe orange and yellow around the edges. But not time for coats yet. Sweaters, sure. But a coat would mean staying, long enough at least to see another season settle. Joel tries not to watch her reaction to Patty’s words too closely, a feigned yawn, a glance over his shoulder out the windows of the diner. 

“Okay, that’d be great, thank you.” Patty takes her lunch to go, a murmured greeting and goodbye to Joel as she lets her hip lead her out the door, a tip of his brow in reply. 

“Would that be alright?” A beat for him to realize that she’s asking him. Less of this lately, all the extra, unneeded thank yous, the careful permission asked after. But still, sometimes, her feathers pluming between the bars of a cage he wishes she’d step out of entirely. 

“Of course, don’t have to ask that. Reckon I oughta pick up a few things myself.” The truth is, all his jeans are fitting tighter. A little fuller lately, a little warmer. Because she can cook, and she likes to, full, warm things that turn the windows sweet with syrupy fog in the evenings. When he first came out here, he lost weight, new notches in his belt to keep his pants up until Patty forced a few new pairs into his hands. No other body to watch after, out for, no concern for three square anything all on his own. But now, breakfast every morning and dinner every night, still trying to keep his knees from brushing against hers under the table, even in the evening’s satisfied slump. And lunch at the diner, whenever he can, always a few fries on the side that he didn’t order. So yeah, lately the zipper is a battle, and the button is a negotiation, and it feels pretty good, like presence. 

She hands him his check, quick lightning in the pass of fingertips, a brush that doesn’t make her flinch. Thoughts he shouldn’t be having, a feel for something he shouldn’t be wanting, he clears his throat, once, twice, napkin held to his mouth should any words try to slip out. 

“What time is the vet coming?” Soon, he thinks, already taking time he doesn’t have, a sigh as he stands from his seat.

“One, he’s always a little late though.” He’s not, but saying it smooths the crease of worry between her brows. Worry, she’s worried about the damn sheep. He thinks she might like the sheep more than she likes him. More comfort with them, at least. It’s not a him thing, though. It’s a people thing. He can understand that, for reasons of his own. After all, he was the one that bought the sheep in the first place. 

“You’ll tell me what he says?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I just, you know, have a feeling.” She says it with a shrug, her words twisting up into a smile at the end. She’s had a feeling for the last week about two of the girls. Avril and Lucy, she had told him over breakfast one morning, just a feeling. He had asked how, half a smile, how. And she had given him a shrug not unlike the one she just rolled her shoulders in. Just a feeling. 

“We’ll see what he says. Still don’t know where you’re getting that feeling from. They all look the same to me.” She scoffs, nose scrunching up as she hands him back change that he’s already planning to tuck into the tip jar when her back is turned. 

“It’s not a look, Joel. It’s just a feeling.” 

“Yeah, alright, whatever you say. Tell you what, if you’re right, I owe you that coat Patty’s holding for you.” He was half-expecting her reaction, complete exasperation in her sigh, where once there was worry, a well-worn routine that has softened around the edges.

“You’re not buying that coat for me.”

“Well, not if that feeling of yours is wrong I’m not.” 

“And what do you get if I’m wrong?” Nothing, he doesn’t want anything. He can’t want anything, not from her. 

“I’ll think of something. But you seem pretty sure that you’re right.” Flustered, he thinks, all flap and flutter as her smile slants, turning away with a wave of her hand, forget it, to get back to work. Sure in herself, and in him too. That he’ll be back a little after four, that they’ll stop by Patty’s place on the way home, that they’ll go home, that there is home. No catch, she has finally learned. Settling into no catch.

The vet hasn’t shown up yet by the time Joel returns to the house, nothing to do but wait. There’s a stack of books on the coffee table in the living room. She’s going to have run right through the library’s stock at the clipped rate she’s currently going. There’s been many a morning that he’s found her in the same position he said goodnight to her in, perched in the corner of the couch, all tucked in on herself, a book in her hands near finished where she had only just started it the night before. 

How quickly people’s ghosts take up residence in a space. All the evidence of absence, and the promise of it being filled up again, soon. Her sweater hanging on the hook by the door, her boots settled and slumped next to his, two coffee mugs drying next to the sink. 

How quickly he must remind himself that all of this will end, eventually. That she will leave, and he will let her, and he will be happy for her. Help, and nothing more. Care, however temporary it may be. But for now, the promise of a new coat, and with it, another season. For now, she’s staying.

…

“Well?”

“Nice to see you too.” 

“Joel.” He can’t help himself, leaning back in the driver’s seat, letting her huff at him, just a little puff of impatience. 

“You were right.” 

“Both of them?”

“Yes, ma’am. He couldn’t tell how many, but twins are pretty–”

“Oh wow.” A whispered thing, a wondered thing, one of her palms pressed over the center of her sternum like she can feel it there. And suddenly, he feels it too. 

“So when are they– when will they be here?” It’s a particular way to ask it, a bit strange, steeped in that same awe.

“Vet said sometime around January, so we’ll certainly have our work cut out for us.” It’s a leap, one that makes his stomach lurch as he says it, knowing exactly what he’s doing. Feeling around in the dark, trying to find where the ending is. 

“Oh wow.” Just that again, curling at the edges with her smile, an answer in and of itself. Or at least he hopes. 

“Suppose I owe you that coat now.” She snorts, a sound that would be ugly coming from anyone else, though it only feels like a relief coming from her, shaking her head at him. 

“Oh please, I can pay for that coat just fine. Someone left an annoyingly large tip for me today.” He threatens a smile, keeping tight-lipped to stop its spread as she looks at him, brow raised, knowing and known. A selfish thought he has had, that those tips he is leaving inch her closer to leaving much faster than he’d like her to, though he hasn’t let that idea fester into any action. 

“That right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I wonder who it was.” 

“Me too. Anyways, shouldn’t I get to decide what I get for being right?” New, a little bold maybe, her elbow propped up on the passenger side door, knuckles steepled at her temple, ease, space. 

“I guess I can’t argue with that. What do you want?” It’s gone just as fast, and he knows he made a mistake with that question, the quick configuration of her body recollecting itself, hands in her lap, wilting like a flower, all too much. Want isn’t allowed, want isn’t something she lets herself admit to. Always a production when she asks if they can stop by the library, like she’s getting away with something she shouldn’t be, shy and secret. Always waiting for him to start eating first, and always him resisting the urge to say something about that, a cool prickle threading through his skull, because he knows where that comes from. And what could he say that wouldn’t make shame well up? Unmerited shame, undeserved, but he knows her now, and knows that it’d be shame all the same. 

He has to stop himself from sorry, because he knows sorry will spill into something more like the truth. That he would like nothing more than to hear all her big and little wants, to make them real for her, reach out and take them for her, give them to her. But he has wants of his own, and if he speaks any of it,  all his want will surely make her bolt. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want a thing, really. I’m just excited about the girls, that’s all.” Her words fade and fizzle quiet on the end, all he can do to nod, mercy to make the car move, to not ask for any more from her right now, to not try to take what she is not willing to give. 

She’s quiet through their errands, still kind to Patty, a nice, new coat that he holds onto the image of as a small smolder of hope for staying. And he knows it’s possibly the worst thing he could have to do right now, sick with how she prickles and pinches up when they pull into the station parking lot. But work is work, duty is duty, and he must. A quiet be right back and an even smaller okay from her as he gets out of the car. 

“Miller.” John seems to always be in a variable lean these days, elbows on the counter in the front office, thumbing through some report. Joel offers him a nod as he moves past the man, dropping off more paperwork for a speeding ticket he wrote two nights ago. 

“That husband out of Nebraska called again.” Joel’s spine straightens, steeled and silent. The husband has called every month since she left, since his car got sent back across state lines. Always asking if they’ve heard anything, seen anything. Joel has never been the one to answer those calls, and he’s not sure whether that’s a blessing or a curse. Part of him, poison, wants to hear the man’s voice, give himself something more to hate, something more to imagine in the middle of the night when a closed fist feels like a good idea. 

“He have anything new to say?” John shrugs, only a spared glance over the top of the papers he’s reading, no big deal, no fuss, and Joel has to remind himself that no, no big deal, none at all. A couple hundred miles worth of no big deal. 

“Same thing every time. You’d think he’d try searching elsewhere considering it’s been, what? Three months since that happened?” Four and a half, Joel thinks to himself, though he just nods at John’s estimate, trying on disinterest. 

“You think he’d ever come out here looking?” Wrong, so very, very wrong, he has to bite back a wince when the words leave his mouth, impulsive and idiotic to ask something like that. John’s brow draws down in perfect confusion, papers fanning out in front of him, paused.

“I don’t know, why do you ask?” He can’t bend or bluster now, feigning a yawn and a shrug as he scratches the back of his neck, time to think of what words will make this unnoticeable.

“Like you said, the wife probably ran away for a reason. I just wanna know if we’re gonna have trouble blowing in around here.” It seems to be enough, John sighing like, good point, hadn’t thought of that. 

“Well, he’d be a damn fool to do that after all this time.  Yep, either Lori Wright got the hell out, or she’s gone to the coyotes by now, God forbid.” He didn’t know her last name. Didn’t know Lori either. A shortening, a smalling of Dolores, clearly. Three names for her now. One he will never use.

“Here’s hoping.” He thinks he hears his own voice crack, tilt up somewhere in the middle of hoping, though John doesn’t seem to notice it, already back to his papers, before thinking twice.

“You and Dovey-girl coming to the bar tonight?” She has warmed up to John, just like everyone else in town. She’ll even play a few rounds of darts with him at the bar when they do show up, surprisingly good at it, quick hands and sharp eyes. 

“Probably not tonight, no,  lots to take care of for the winter and all.”

“So she’s staying on for the winter?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Trying to not let that feel too good, palm swiped down his scruff to temper a smile. Willing it and wanting it, even though he shouldn’t. And is he bad for this? For hoping she stays, gone to the coyotes, except not really, except right where husband could find her. A slurry of sick when his mind suddenly flashes with the thought. Her working at the diner and a stranger blowing in as they’re wont to do. Except not a stranger. Except not a stranger’s hand closed in a fist in her hair and dragging her a few hundred miles back across state lines. Except worse, maybe, possibly. Except husband has a gun. So much worse, not maybe, not possibly. Probably. 

“I know I won’t be the only one happy to hear that. She’s been a real addition to the community, you know? A keeper.” John’s words shake him out of his own murmuring thoughts, quick to correct the toxic tinge in his mind. No one is being kept, no one is keeping anyone. Not like that. It can’t be.

“She’s just staying for a little while. Getting her feet under her and– I just, you know, owed her a favor–” He’s making things up, giving more than he should. Something about an old friend, something about Texas even. Lies that will only make things more difficult, not just for him, but for her too. His blunder will require a debriefing at this point, pinning her in this web with him. Though he tells himself it’s protection, a thin, filmy layer of it that might keep husband out, maybe just enough. He hopes it is. 

“Everything okay?” The first thing she asks when he gets back in the car, and he knows that this is her way of trying, of saying sorry for the silence, the sudden shrinking. 

“Yeah, got stopped talking to John. He told me to tell you he’s been practicing his aim, so you better be ready for some competition the next time y’all play a round together.” Another lie, a small one though, and it makes the pinch of worry smooth in her expression, even a clipped laugh. He’ll take it.  

The sun has already closed one eye, half-asleep and hanging on by a thread over the snarled lip of the mountains. It’s been getting cold enough at night that the sheep have started congregating around the barn in the evenings, huddling close and tight to keep in warmth. Pretty soon, he’ll have to set up the heater inside, the promise of another long winter not far away. 

Of course, she heads straight toward the barn when they get home, shrugging into her new coat as she greets the flock, all warmth, all dripping adoration. He’s pretty sure the bleats of the animals are an equally affectionate reciprocation. There’s no fear in how she approaches them, easy pats to their broad bellies, her palms running and scratching along their cheeks and behind their flickering ears how they seem to like it. All the while talking, the most he ever hears her say, always for the animals. He hangs back, leaning against the side of the car, listening, though trying not to look like he is. She pays particular attention to Avril and Lucy, palm splayed over their sides as she murmurs to them. He has to bite back a laugh when she shoots a pointed look toward the two rams, only just discernible in the quick-fading light. Seeming satisfied with her convening, she starts to pluck and pad back through the brush toward him.

“Dinner?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Just tell me how I can help.” 

He’s never known how to cook well. Lots of scrambled eggs and pb and js for Sarah growing up, an errant casserole from a well-meaning neighbor every now and again. But Dolores moves like she knows what she’s doing in the kitchen, something confident in the flick of the stove and the stir of something warm and snaring heat. She always gives him the simplest tasks, sure in what she tells him to do, a cutting board and a knife and the new, fresh things of the fall chopped up small to melt down in their own savor in the pan. 

He always thanks her when they sit down, and she’s just as bad at receiving that as he is, her chin tucked down in a shake of her head. And that thing, that sickening submission thing she does. Doesn’t even lift fork or knife, hands held in her lap until he starts to chew. He’s tried a few times to wait it out, to see if eventually. But no, he supposes they’d be waiting there all night. Conditioning that has been cemented beneath her skull, that only makes that hate get bigger in his chest. And then he starts to wonder after the cooking, if that isn’t just the same, something that fear taught her how to do. His stomach twists with the thought. 

“Can I ask you something?” He shouldn’t. But she nods, dabbing at the corner of her mouth. So he does. 

“You don’t– do you like to do that?” A vague wave of his hand over to the stove, that. Her shoulders raise, a slight hackle.

“I– I don’t mind it. Yes, I like to.” Two different answers, really, like she decided part-way through the first one that it needed to be paved over with something else. 

“Because you don’t have to, you know.” She winces. He did that. He caused that. By poking and prodding around where he shouldn’t have been. 

“I know, I figure it’s the least I can do though.” He’d like to say no, don’t need to do a thing. Already doing so much. Not keeping score. Not keeping anything. Not being kept. But that’s still too dangerous of a truth, silence settling as they continue to eat, nothing right that could be said. Though he refuses to assume this awful role, to move through the ghost rhythms of her old life. Resolving himself for tomorrow, that he will wait at the table all night if he has to, that the food will go cold if it has to, hollow guts until it becomes something different. Because this must be different, and she must know that it is different. And in small ways, he knows that she does. But he cannot let any of this poison seep through, cannot let any piece of him be associated with husband, with horror. 

After dinner, he doesn’t let her anywhere near the dishes, and it’s about the dishes and it isn’t about the dishes, crowding her out of the kitchen, telling her to go, go read, got this, he’s got this. But when he joins her in the living room, she isn’t reading, sitting on the edge of the couch with her elbows on her knees and the raw skin around her thumb worrying between her teeth. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Shit, stomach sinking at her question. And a swift, silent realization that he is going to have to be more explicit about these things. That hers is a mind on high alert for anything out of place, any word out of tune, and that he will have to be careful, so careful to reassure and remember that. 

“No, that’s not– you haven’t done anything wrong. I– you don’t owe me a thing, do you understand that? I’m serious. I’m not waiting for you to repay anything or earn anything. It’s not like that.” Not like him, what he’d really like to say. Not like a few hundred miles across state lines, what he’d really like to say. And he wishes more than anything that she would understand that by now. But then, how many years worth of unlearning does she have to do? 

She mentioned something about their tenth wedding anniversary, always more liable to talk after half a beer at the bar, close and quiet with him. Husband came home later than he was supposed to and she made a comment about them missing their dinner reservation and he made her sorry for the rest of the night for making a comment about them missing their dinner reservation. So ten years, at least. A whole decade that must be unraveled.

“I want something.” It’s so unexpected that his next inhale gets stuck somewhere in his throat, though he’s quick to catch it, clearing it out as he nods at her.

“Okay, what do you want?” She gets up from the couch, turning to stand in front of him, a few shuffled steps to where he’s standing in the doorway. 

“I don’t know if I should want it.” He does not flinch or freeze when careful fingers curl around his wrist, not even when his pulse jumps as she takes his hand between both of hers, pressed like planes of glass, flat and fragile. 

“Tell me what it is, Dove.” If he moves even the smallest muscle, she might startle, spook, and split away at the edges, so he stays so still, letting her turn his hand this way and that between both of hers, her lashes splayed over the tops of her cheeks in the droop of her eyes. 

“I shouldn’t.” 

“I think you should.”

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“You will if I tell you.” 

“No, I won’t.” 

“You won’t?”

“I promise I won’t.” She sighs, a long, aching sound that starts one of his own in his chest. Finally, fingers threading with his. 

“This is hard for me.”

“I know it is.” Finally, eyes given to him, flickering up and holding there.

“I can’t, Joel. I’m sorry.” But she doesn’t let go, doesn’t look away. And this has to be enough, he has to make it enough. Not the time to push, to try to take any more from her than she has already given him. Not now, not when her thumb is smoothing a line into the side of his hand. Not when anything more could take all of this away. 

“It’s okay, Dovey. Take your time.” Because he’d give all of it to her, every second he could possibly promise away to her, and there’s no use lying about that now.

Catch and release, her hand already untangling from his, arms crossing over her stomach, closing up all over again. But not nothing. Something different. Something changing, carefully reconfiguring around each other. 

She sits back down on the couch, and it’s wordless, the way that he settles next to her. Nothing asked after, a silent understanding. Both learning, moving with the other. His arm settles over the back of the couch, presence more than anything, and she reciprocates in kind, leaning a little closer, fitting her shoulder under his, hip to hip. It’s slow, glacial really, the way they fit the fact of their bodies around each other. But eventually, his hand settles as a suggestion over her shoulder, and her thigh presses up against his. And the last fall, the last allowance, comes in the way her head tilts to lay against his chest. Fitting together all these strange and broken pieces, until it’s as easy as respiration. 

She can take her time, and his too. This can be as slow as it needs to be. But he thinks that he knows what she wants, and he thinks it’s the same thing he’s been trying so hard to tamp down, to temper and toe some imaginary line against and away from. For now, even the thought that this could be shared is enough, weak with wanting, and he doesn’t care anymore. 

He can want, and so can she. 

..................................

taglist: @casssiopeia @eleganthottubfun @anoverwhelmingdin @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @suzmagine @syakhairi @spookyxsam @northernbluess @hier--soir @darkroastjoel @wannab-urs @tieronecrush @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @softlyspector @noisynightmarepoetry @csarab615 @beskarandblasters @ratoonstown @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring

[elviola]

THE SUN AND THE MOON.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x Reader

SHE/HER READER!

PLOT: You are the moon parallel to the sun. Parallel to Neteyam, you cannot help but to want more of the brightness he gives.

NOTE: not proofread again lololol, i just have so many poems for him so i'll turn them to oneshots instead, this was kinda rushed and i'm half asleep

NETEYAM IS A STAR, the brightest star that you could ever see. The sun to the solar system, your sun in your life. He's the bravest, you notice. When the humans try to take what's not rightfully theirs, he shows his pride in being a Na'vi. He shows it by being brave in battle, flying his ikran along his brother, and father. Neteyam is strong, his skills are well learned and put to the best use there is for the clan.

You walk through a certain pathway to see the hunters train for the next time they go out and you see him. See his hands hold tightly around the bow as his eyes focus intently on the target. You thought, you could never do that. You could never be like him.

You could never be with him.

You talk to the warrior sometimes, when he visits your hut to rest, and heal.

"______, I'm sorry I keep coming. I can not find ways to stop me bleeding without it even bleeding more." He enters, holding his shoulder with pressure. You quickly stand up and inspect the wound, it was deep. "Today was too rough on you." He looks at you as he sits down on the mat, "Nothing is too rough for me."

Your peers notice your adoration for the oldest Sully son. They ask,

"Why don't you tell him? It's not hard to try." But it is, they don't see the way you see him, that he's too high and your wings are too small to fly. When he's near, your mouth turned lock, as you nod instead to speak. Because Neteyam is scary, you fear that when you go too close to him. You will melt, you will give your whole to him.

You know he won't do the same.

When you see some other girl with him under the alluring trees at night. You didn't mean to stare, but when it's him, who doesn't stop to look? His hands weren't holding tightly on his bow but he was holding hers, gently. His gaze wasn't intent but soft and you dared to be selfish, rip him from her, and reason he was yours.

He was never to begin with.

So you try, on a sunny day. Neteyam is with his family, sharing his stories about his journey a while ago, sitting around in a circle. He glances to the side surprised when he sees your form bending over. Trying to catch your breath after running to him when he's free. Free from the chains the Olo'eyktan's son has to accomplish. "Neteyam, I need to talk to you." Jake looks at him and approves, and he bids his sibling goodbye.

You walk with him to the cliff side of the forest, a spacious view of the trees and greenery below. "Is there something wrong, _____? Was it the herbal tea? I will go find the other ingredient, I promise." Neteyam is kind. He acknowledges the generosity the people give him, and he is eager to give it back. "No, it's fine. It's about—" You hesitate, reminding yourself that this it the line where all the memories you've made with him and continuation of it will be gone, erased. His eyes are waiting and you don't want to waste his time.

"I like you." You say as his face morphs to surprise, "I like you so much it hurts."

Neteyam is nice, that he helps even the people shy and awkward to him. He comforts them that all is fine when good and all is under control when chaos is nearing. So he is nice to you.

"I am sorry, _____. We are not close, You are a good friend. Yes? A great healer but I can not like someone I do not know." Your eyes burned tears, he panics as he shifts uncomfortably at his feet. "If you would have talked more to me? Maybe, came closer?" You want to spit venom but even in this situation, you find him divine with the light shining at his face. Illuminating his eyes that make you forget what happened for a moment.

"I couldn't go near you."

"Why?" He asks, and you answer.

I yearn to be near you, to connect eachother until the ache in my heart goes away. But I am mortal, I can be pushed off my feet and be swept away along the wind. You are more, someone that gives me a fraction of a second to not feel like one. To feel belonged, with you.

So I stay far away from the sunlight rays and from your familiar face. I'll make myself content to the little attention I get and I'll train my heart to be strong when it's trying to beat only to you.

I'll be the only one that chooses you over the bright moon,

My sun.

But you give him the version that is kind to your heart instead,

"You burn when you're too close to the sun."

______ is brave, brave to tell the hero, she has fallen and _____ is strong to always face him without messing up her composture. _____ is scary because her feelings are too big for her heart, that she fears it will break but _____ is kind to let water stream down her face as how the rain drops on the leaves, she is kind to set the longing feeling gone, free.

_____ is as mighty as Neteyam and even though they can never be together. They will parallel against eachother.

The sun and the moon.

[multific]

First Meeting

K'uk'ulkan x Reader

Summary: You missed the evens of the last couple of months. Coming back your friend is now Queen and has a crazy story.

When Shuri told you about the one M'Baku called 'Fishman', you laughed at her.

She might be your queen, but this was way too funny.

"A man... with wings on his ankles?"

"YES!" she yelled as you busted out laughing.

"I leave Wakanda for a couple of months to have some time off, and I come back to this?! Shuri, you don't have to lie to me!"

"I'm not lying."

"Suuuure..."

---

You stood by the beach, looking at Shuri as she put a shell into the ocean.

"Look, this prank has been going on for enough, you can s-" but just as you were about to finish a man walked out of the water. His golden skin glowing under the sun.

You looked at Shuri as you noticed the wings on his

“Told you!" she said pointing at you. "I told you I wasn’t lying!”

“And who are you?” you asked the man.

“My people call me K'uk'ulkan, my enemies call me Namor.”

“Can I call you, Daddy?” Shuri froze as she looked at you

“Y/N!”

“WHAT?”

“I’m afraid I cannot be your father.” he replied with the most serious tone which only made everything a lot more funny as Shuri started laughing.

“I’m not explaining to him what I truly meant. But fine, I’ll just call him…”

“Stop please.” Shuri interrupted. “I called you because I wanted you to meet, my friend, Y/N. She has powers to control the water. I wanted to let you know in case you… heard about something.”

“Thank you for the warning. I appreciate it.” he turned and started to walk away when you moaned.

“He looks even better from the back! Shuri, why didn’t you tell me he looked like this?!”

“You didn’t believe he existed let alone looked –“ Shuri pointed at Namor who was now looking at the two of you again.

“I swear if you ever find me missing and I’m in like an underwater chamber with that God, don’t come to save me.”

Shuri rolled his eyes as she walked back towards the city.

You looked at Namor who was observing you.

“You are a strange woman.”

“Strange?! Says the one with the elvish ears! I could- if you want. I can heal your leg.” you said pointing at the bandages.

“We have herbs, I’ll be fine.”

“I didn’t mean herbs… Shuri said I have powers. One is to heal. But alright Water Daddy. Go on back to your people."

He slowly walked towards you, taking off the bandage from his leg as he looked at you. You knelt down into the sand and put your hand close to his wounded wing.

For a couple minutes you concentrated and his wing was healed.

"Thank you.”

“You should come visit more. I hate to watch see you leave but I love to watch see you go.”

“Y/N! He is 500 years old!” Shuri yelled back. “Stop flirting with the 500 years old water God!”

“Oh, so you are older as well. Shuri! You know I have a thing for older men!”

“Not centuries older!”

“I don’t care when they look this good!” one last time you turned to Namor offering him a small wave as you said your goodbye.

Back in Shuri’s lab you sat on a chair as she was working on something again, as usual.

“So, he is 500 years old, is a mutant God, can fly and swim. Is covered in vibranium, barely wears clothes, AND that handsome.”

“I shouldn’t have introduced him to you.”

“You should have earlier! I could be married to that man by now. Have his babies and all! I could be the Queen of Talokan. But who cares about a throne, I just want to sit on that man.”

“Please stop.” Shuri begged.

“You introduce me to a handsome man and you expect me not to say these things?”

“At least keep them to yourself.”

“I’ll try.” you said as you leaned back and this is when you noticed. Your God was standing in the doorway with two blue people by his side. “Ooookay. When did this turn into Avatar?”

“Y/N, please.”

“Look.” you told her as you pointed at your guests.

“You dropped this. I came to give it back to you.” he said as he walked closer to you, this is when you truly noticed just how much bigger he was. He handed you your ring. Which you didn’t even realized you dropped earlier when you were drooling all over the floor.

“Oh, thank you.” you offered him a kind smile as just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone.

“Did you drop it so you can see him again?”

“No! What do you think of me, Shuri?! Do I look like the kind who would drop their grandmother’s ring just so Mr Sexy Wet Daddy can bring it back to me?”

“You look exactly the kind. You sneaky…” you smirked at her before sitting back into your chair.

“I would never!”

What you didn’t know is that Namor listened to everything you just said and even before he entered the room, he could hear your conversation.

If he was honest with himself he was also interested in you.

He now needed to look up why you were calling him father.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​​ @greenarrowhead​​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ @sincerelyfan​​ @theoneanna​​ @aestheticsandmarvel​​ @rororo06​​ @castellandiangelo​​ @destynelseclipsa​​ @spilledinkindumpster​​ @capsiclesdoll​​ @puknow​​ @alwayshave-faith​​ @alex12948​​ @lxdyred​​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @praline357​​ @trshngyn​​ @avengers-r-us​​ @violet-19999​​ @top1bbgloak​​   @manduse​​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​​  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Outrun the Future G.Cleven Ch 3

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch4 Ch 5

Ch 3

A gentle shake had Marley nearly jumping out of bed. Betty was standing over her, robe wrapped around her body, trying her hardest to wake the pilot up without waking the others. “Captain Sutton just came by and told me to get you. Looks like ya’ll are headed out this morning.”

Marley let out a deep sigh and nodded her head. “Thanks, Betty. Sorry you were woken up so early.” She didn’t have to look at the clock to know it was before sunrise. Mission days always started the same and it was clear that a change of location wasn’t going to change that.

“It’s no problem.” She paused for a few seconds, trying to figure out the best way to say goodbye without actually saying it. “I better not see you in medical later. As much as a few of us would love to see your handsome brother around, something tells me he wouldn’t do well with you hurt.”

Marley chuckled as she got out of bed and gave her friend a hug. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

The base had a different feel to it this morning. Majority of the men and women were still asleep, not knowing the small group of fighter pilots were getting ready for a mission so soon after getting there. It made Marley feel on edge as she walked to the mess hall to try and eat whatever would stay down. Their base prior had a few different squadrons housed there, making go days loud and energetic from the moment feet hit the ground.

But with only ten of them here, the base stayed in a state of slumber while the group made peace with whatever God they prayed to.

Marley walked into the mess hall to find a handful of kitchen staff working and most of the pilots sitting at two tables next to each other while the rest stayed empty. Grabbing a plate of food, she sat next to Sparky, thanking him for the wakeup call. “Not a problem. Have any idea where we are flying today?”

She shook her head, “No idea. Can’t be too big if the 100th aren’t headed out.” While the P-51’s mainly provided air support for the bombers, they quickly realized that when the 100th wasn’t called out, the mission was typically a shorter one. Or at least they hoped.

The morning went by faster than any of them would’ve wished for and before too long, the planes were being fueled and preflight checks were under way. The sun had started peaking over the horizon, signaling the day was taking charge and soon the base would be buzzing with life.

Sparky walked up to her plane and watched as she finished her checks. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that your brother has no idea you’re flying today?”

Marley hummed in response as she ran her hand across one of the wings. “If I had told him, I would be getting a lecture right about now and another one when we get back. By not telling him, I have now reduced the amount of nagging to one sitting. Call it time management.”

Her friend shook his head but didn’t argue. He learned that when she had her mind set on something, there was nothing anyone could do to change it. “Be safe out there. I know it’s a short flight to France today, but you know things always seem to go bad on the easy ones.”

She gave him a small smile and told him to do the same. He gave her a small boost into her plane and tapped the side of it as he walked back up to his. The small group of ten was ready to take off all before anyone had left their bunks.

John Egan took pride in knowing what was going on at the base. His job title made sure of it. So, when he heard the sound of planes starting up at the ass crack of dawn, he sprinted out of bed. Standing outside in only his boxers, he watched as all ten P-51’s took off without hesitation. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be shocked, scared, or angry at the fact that his little sister just flew off on a mission without so much as batting an eye in his direction.

The door opened behind him, and Buck stepped out with at least more clothes on than his friend, extra jacket in his hands. “Might want to get dressed before the guys see you. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

Bucky took the jacket, not taking his eyes off the dots in the sky. “She didn’t tell me.” His words were quiet, but Buck heard them clearly. He had a feeling the younger Egan didn’t wake them up so they wouldn’t worry as much. But she didn’t realize how much that would piss off her brother.

He took a small step back when he saw Bucky shake his head. “If she makes it back in one piece, I’m going to make sure she’ll never fly again.”

“When. When she makes it back.” Buck tried to keep things positive, but he knew it was a lost cause in this moment. Because right now, it wasn’t Major Egan standing outside watching the planes get smaller. It was big brother Egan who didn’t get to say goodbye to his baby sister.

Bucky was on edge for the next few hours. Some of the guys tried to lighten the mood but nearly had their head chewed off by the Major. Soon, everyone but Buck had left him alone.

The two of them were sitting in the jeep, eyes in the direction the P-51’s left in. Neither of them had said a word for the past half hour, making Buck antsy. John Egan always had something to say no matter the situation. Most of the time you couldn’t get him to shut up long enough to get a word in. It was one of the reasons why the two of them worked well together. Buck was never one for the spotlight.

But with brunette silent, Buck felt like he needed to say something. “She’s going to be fine.”

Bucky shook his head, “First she didn’t tell me she followed me into this damn war and now she’s runnin’ off on missions without so much as a wave. I deserve better than that.”

He agreed with his friend, not liking the way things happened this morning. They all knew what could happen out there and robbing your family of one last goodbye is something that will haunt a man.

Conversation stopped as they both saw the first plane come into sight. Bucky got out of the jeep and counted each plane as he was able to see them, praying one of them held his sister.

His jaw clenched as he counted and counted again. “Am I blind or is that only seven planes?” Buck wished he could’ve corrected him, but he too counted three less than what should’ve been.

Each plane landed without issue and they both had to wait until the fighter pilots jumped down. The grounds crew rushed out to assess the damages, already trying to work on what needed to be fixed.

After what felt like ages, Bucky’s shoulders dropped with relief as he saw the familiar braid jump down from her plane. “Go easy on her.” Buck’s voice drew his attention.

“Like hell I am. She deserves everything I’m going to give her.” Bucky went to walk towards her when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned and saw his friend giving him a somber look. “Only seven planes came back.”

And it was like cold water had been thrown on him. Bucky was so wrapped up in his sister making it back, that he didn’t think of the pilots who didn’t. Three teammates were lost, and he didn’t know how close they might have been or if she saw it happen. While no one wanted to become a prisoner of war, it was still a chance of possibly surviving.

Now, instead of walking over there to chew her ass out, he needed to make sure his sister was okay.

As he got near her, he could see a faraway look in her eyes. It was like she was physically there, but her mind had escaped to some place dark. He took that moment to look her over, making sure there were no injuries. A quick glance at her plane showed bullet holes riddled throughout the structure.

Each piece of information he was learning had the grip on his heart tightening. Never would he have wished this life for his sister, but he knew he needed to learn to cope with it for both of their sakes.

“Come here, Mar.” His voice seemed to snap her back to reality, shocking her with how close he had gotten without her noticing.

Marley shook her head, tears already pooling in her eyes. “If I do that, I’m going to have a breakdown on this runway, and I really don’t want to ruin my mascara. I didn’t splurge and get the waterproof one.”

Bucky gave her a slight smirk, “When have you ever known me to listen?” He didn’t give her a chance to back away as he tightly embraced her.  

And there the two Egan siblings stood. One, feeling like the world was crumbling around her. And the other, holding his entire world in his arms.

[dreamerawaken]

I saw some friends using this template from @/cloudysunflowr and decided to give it a go!!

More details of Dreamy's relationships under 'Read More'! (Please give it a read, I worked very hard on this for days...!)

Dreamy first met everyone when Julie organized a sleepover over Home's, as Wally had never been into one. They all gathered, brought snacks, board games, movies, and had a blast!

What stood out, however, was a brand new bat plush Sally had purchased from Howdy. Everyone found the bat super soft and cute, so they played with it as if it was part of the sleepover.

But when the clock struck 10, they were all astonished when the plush became alive! She thanked them for being so friendly towards her, and once the shock wore off, the new neighbor taught her new friends more sleepover games!

And since then, Dreamy became the official 'Sleepover Organizer' of the neighborhood!

Dreamy Sleepy - Wally Darling and Home: Bedtime Stories' Enthusiasts!

"Goodnight, Dreamy! (...?) Yeah, I wanted to tell you that before bed. And since you don't have a phone... (...) No, it's alright, I don't mind walking outside when it's bed time. (...?) Oh, read Home and I some books? I'd like that. You're the most, Dreamy."

Dreamy has a calm, polite relationship with Wally. She cares for him and is always happy to help him out when she's up and about in the neighborhood.

He's the first neighbor she visits nightly to ensure Wally won't leave Home while looking for her, as she is afraid he can get lost in the dark- it happened once!

^Since then, she pays them visits so that Wally can tell her 'Goodnight' every night. He's happy he can do it in person.

Dreamy loves reading bedtime stories for both Wally and Home, and she tries to bring different books each night.

If she can't bring a new story, she'll try to make one on the spot, and Wally will sometimes try to add a situation in her narrations- though this only causes the story to get off the rails. Dreamy quite enjoys working her way around Wally's inputs, however.

She knows Wally doesn't sleep, but she wants to ensure he's relaxed through the night to feel some degree of rested come morning.

^Sometimes she'll even offer him her sleeping mask so that his eyes get to rest as well, in case he forgets to keep them closed!

Wally was the first to learn that Dreamy doesn't eat! Instead, she holds plastic food up to her lips and describe the flavor of what she 'eats'- Wally finds this fascinating because he gets to learn about flavors with her.

Wally likes counting the stitches in her ears, but he gets distracted after a while and instead names things that matches the colors of her wings.

He tried painting hearts on her face one time, but found out Dreamy is quite ticklish, so the hearts ended up looking more like flowers.

Dreamy Sleepy - Barnaby B. Beagle: Puppy Love at First Laugh.

"Hey, Dreamy, ya seem a bit down layin' there on the ground! Seems like an off spot to catch Z's, those usually float above your head!... Haha, what a tough crowd we have this morning,,. Say, how about you come with me while I do some warm ups for my stand up routine? You could be my first VIP: Very Important Plush!"

Dreamy was a little apprehensive of Barnaby at first, as she thought he liked getting under people's skin.

One day, however, Barbany found Dreamy in her plush form lying don't on the ground, and dirtied up. He cleaned her with his tie and made no big deal about it, saying: 'I have plenty of spares for tonight's show, anyways'. He then left her on a comfy bench and carried on his way after saying goodbye.

The next time this happened, he figured to bring her along to one of his stand-ups. He told joke after joke, and while she couldn't physically laugh, Dreamy had the time of her life watching Barnaby showcasing his thinking process when coming up with quips and puns!

^Dreamy had to wait till night to go apologize to Barnaby for not laughing, due to being unable to speak while being a stuffed toy. Barnaby didn't mind it, and was content knowing that she had fun nonetheless. That's when she realized how kind the beagle comedian truly was.

It became routine for Dreamy to visit Barnaby after his stand-ups, just to tell him her favorite jokes of the day, even if he was booed on stage. If asked, she'd tell you she found his comedic skills delightful.

During one visit, Barnaby made a little joke that caused Dreamy to guffaw, and he was thrilled to discover that some squeaks would slip between her giggles! It quickly became his favorite laugh, and he settled on making her laugh more often, even gently teasing her by calling her 'Squeaks'.

Dreamy, however, felt insecure because she wasn't certain if he was messing with her. She began to laugh a little more quieter and guarded, hoping that would keep the squeaks down. But Barnaby noticed the change right away and when he figured out the reason, he decided to be sincere and told her how adorable her real laugh was to him, and apologized for not being clear about it.

After this event, the two began to grow closer as friends, realizing they may have developed a crush on the other, yet neither acting on it.

Barnaby appreciates how kind Dreamy is to Wally and he enjoys hanging out with the two of them.

Barnaby once tried nibbling on Dreamy's ear as a playful gesture, but all he got was a wing to the face in response. Dreamy apologized and he learned the lesson. He decided to boop her nose instead whenever he felt like teasing her.

When she visits him at night after he had a bit of a rough day, Dreamy would sing him a lullaby. It always relaxes him to hear her voice.

Dreamy Sleep - Frank Frankly: You are a Curious Fellow.

"Hmm, now, how did you get inside my net, Dreamy? Last I checked, it is not designed for stuffed bats... oh, well, I don't see why you can't come along. Who knows? Maybe we'll find a rare butterfly, or a beetle, or both!"

Frank and Dreamy's relationship is nothing out of the ordinary- they are respectful to each other, though they both think the other is a bit odd! A bat plush that comes to life at night? A frowny grey puppet in such a lively, colorful neighborhood?

Despite this, they have nothing against the other, and they help each other out quite often! If Dreamy is found at an unusual or dangerous spot, Frank is usually the first to take her somewhere safe. And if there is a bug Frank can't find during night time, Dreamy will locate it for them.

^Frank asks Dreamy to illustrate the bugs she finds, but she's not an artist; best she can do is a little wobbly scribble. To make up for her lack of skills, she adds notes upon notes of details about the bugs she finds.

Dreamy appreciates Frank's baking skills, and loves their most colorful creations- such as mosaic and rainbow jellies! She once wondered if making a sleeping mask jelly would be possible, but Frank gently pointed out: "It would become a bright, sticky mess on your pillows and face!"

Frank didn't know Dreamy could still hear them even as a plush, so they were embarrassed when they recalled how many times they let out their frustrations with her around- Dreamy assured them that she didn't mind, and that they could keep doing it if it helped.

^Since then, she leaves lavender bouquets around Frank's house to help them relax.

Dreamy Sleepy - Julie Joyful: The 'Slumber Party Official Committee'!

"DREAMY! Oh, proper timing! I was JUST wondering when my first-in-command would show up to check our latest plans for the upcoming sleepover! Now, hear me out: it'll be at Poppy's place, so we need to play 'safe', yet fun games! What do you suppose we- oh!"

(Dreamy tumbles down into a pillow, which causes more pillows to fall, only they land in such way they form a tent of sorts over her plushie body.)

"...Pillow Forts? That's BRILLIANT! Oh, oh! And blankets! And futons! This won't be just a fort, we'll make a CASTLE!!"

As stated above, Dreamy was assigned the 'Sleepover Organizer' upon her discovery, by none other than Julie herself! And since the Sleepover Organizer needed backup during daylight hours, Julie offered herself for aid, thus creating the 'Slumber Party Official Committee'!

Dreamy enjoys humoring Julie's antics, after all, she wants to see her new friends having fun as well. And while most of the plannings are done by Julie herself, Dreamy always leaves notes for her at night, giving her insights and how to improve certain ideas.

It's no secret Julie loves games, specially when it comes to playing “Business Woman in the Big City”. One time Julie asked Dreamy, in her plush form, to play as the 'Boss' of the company, the same one that tells Julie they go bankrupt so that she can play her skit.

^That same night, Dreamy told Julie she didn't enjoy that game, because she disliked seeing her friends in distress, even if it was faked. Julie apologized and promised to find games better suited for Dreamy, which made them closer as friends.

Julie loves strapping Dreamy's plush form to her hair! And she carries her around like to play all sorts of fun games, such as tag, hopscotch, jump the rope, and more!

^When asked about the hair thing, Julie merely replies. "It's to make her feel tall, silly!"

Julie also seems to enjoy being hugged by Dreamy, as she claims her wings are the best blankets around the neighborhood (and they are)!

^Dreamy doesn't mind lending a wing to Julie in order to help her fall asleep.

Dreamy Sleepy - Eddie Dear: One finger-friendly Crafts.

"Where are those scissors? I swear I put em' somewhere 'round- ah! Dreamy! Did I cover ya'll up with the papers? 'M so sorry about that, Velvet- I've been all over the place tryin' to come up with a new craft to work with durin' my off hours an' all... hey, come to think of it, I learned a while ago howta make paper bats! How 'bout I make a few, just for ya?"

Dreamy feels close to Eddie, platonicly! She considers him a wonderful friend, for he's caring and always helping others.

Eddie is always delighted to show Dreamy his new ideas for crafts, and demonstrates her where to fold, cut, and stick the papers so that she can make it herself! Only problem: Come night time, she might most likely forget all the details... oh, and also, she only has one finger on each wing.

^When he noticed this, he apologized a LOT- to the point Dreamy had to grab his face to tell him to stop, and assure him she wasn't mad. He then decided to make 'one finger-friendly' crafts for her, and also left step-by-step guides!

Dreamy feels very soft and soothing to the touch, which is the reason Eddie calls her 'Velvet'.

^He knows this because he tends to carry her around his office while he's talking out loud. And he talks a lot to her, it helps him focus but also brings him comfort to have a friend lending an ear.

Dreamy doesn't have a nickname for Eddie, she just calls him 'Dearie' like she does to everyone else, but sometimes she calls him 'Dearie Dear'.

When Eddie returns to the office, he can find little notes left behind by Dreamy, thanking him for his hard work and letting him know how much she appreciate their (one-sided) talks during the day.

^Sometimes there's a little paper figure as well! Albeit a little clumsily made, but he adores them all the same.

Best way to get Eddie to fall asleep after a long day of hauling heavy packages? Give him a shoulder massage! And if you've got Dreamy's touch, he'll be out faster than you can say lickity split!

Dreamy Sleepy - Sally Starlet: We Shall Perform 'Sleeping Beauty'!

"Now, this is the moment of truth! After facing many dangerous trials, defeating the evil dragon and chasing off the malevolent witch, the prince finally reached sleeping beauty's chamber! With a true love kiss, the prince may finally-! ...What's that, Walliford? Oh. No, of course, you can kiss her cheek. That's fine- Ahem! With a true love's cheek kiss, the prince may finally awake her from her slumber...!"

(Wally kisses Dreamy's plush cheek, though it's more like him saying 'muah!' outloud. Just in cue, as a clock strikes 10, Dreamy awakens and sits up, yawning softly.)

"The princess is awake! Oh, rejoice, for our hero has saved the kingdom from peril! Now together, they shall rule the kingdom with kindness and fair justice, bringing many years of peaceful bliss to their people- The End!"

(While Sally talks, Dreamy is sleepily rubbing her eye while Wally plays with the feather attached to his hat.)

Dreamy doesn't like Sally's cooking, even though she can't eat it. But she doesn't have the heart to tell Sally that sponge cake is not, in fact, made of sponges.

Sally loves singing alongside Dreamy, even if it makes her a little drowsy. Sally is a better singer since she can perform different music genre, while Dreamy only knows lullabies.

Sally always tries to implement Dreamy in her plays, with the bat's biggest role being that of sleeping beauty! Once she figured Dreamy awakens at 10PM, Sally made a play that perfectly timed both Dreamy and her character's awakening for an extra special effect!

^Dreamy has also starred as a tree, a bee, a mouse (she didn't like this one) and a bundled baby.

Sally calls Dreamy's characters in her plays 'Dreamarina', says it's far more elegant and fetching!

Dreamy helps Sally sleep by crafting a star projector. It's a lamp she surrounded with punctured paper to shape stars and planets (with the help of Eddie!).

Dreamy Sleepy - Howdy Pillar: NOT for Sale!

"Special deal of today! An unique darling- for there is only one in stock- who will be the perfect company while you enjoy a bowl of cereal! Or a nice mug of coffee! Maybe even keep you company while you do chores like- that's right! Scrubbing the dishes with a sponge! You heard me! She'll be the best companion for ANY occasion! Just look at the lovely colors of her wings, that charming little smile, those expertly-made stitches! And she can be YOURS if you purchase any of the items I previously mentioned!"

(The Next day...)

"What do you *mean* I sold you an actual person, Sally???"

As stated above, Howdy sold Dreamy in her plush form by accident.

(^This is how Dreamy Sleepy is first introduced to the Neighborhood, but her origins are unknown.)

^Since then, Dreamy isn't too fond of Howdy. She forgave him once he apologized, though.

Dreamy has no need to buy things- mainly due to not having a house of her own to keep them, but she also doesn't require food, so she always denies getting anything from Howdy's.

^Howdy takes it as a personal challenge, because he would! He's the best seller in town! And he will find a way to make a difficult client find an item that they can't resist to buy!

Dreamy tries to be polite and listens to everyone when they speak to her, but Howdy talks for SO long, and a touch too loud as well- she knows why he does it, but she can get fatigued due to the strain her ears go through by listening to him.

^She doesn't like it, but Dreamy tries to avoid Howdy because she has no idea how to ask him to stop AND be polite about it at the same time. Specially since he seems so happy to tell her all about his sales and disccounts.

However, not everything is tension between them. There's very few instances in which they can have a normal conversation, mostly when Dreamy purchases snacks from the caterpillar for her sleepover parties, usually by reciting poetry.

^Rumor has it she said a joke so good, Howdy gave her freebies! Barnaby has since tried to coax Howdy to tell it to him, but he hasn't been lucky.

Dreamy likes organizing Howdy's shelves sometimes, right before he goes to bed. He appreciates her help but Dreamy doesn't quite understand why the items have to be facing a certain way. Howdy just lets her do her thing and come morning he'll reorganize everything himself.

Dreamy helps Howdy rest by making sure he's well snugged in his bed- you know how the saying goes! She doesn't use a rug, though.

Dreamy Sleepy - Poppy Partridge: Of Feathers and Blankets.

"Dreamy! Oh, I'm so glad to see you awake at last, what happened to you? Why were you injured?? (...?) I-I found you earlier, with a ripped stitch! I did my best to fix it, but I was so worried while I waited for you to come around... (...) You caught a stitch on a branch and didn't notice? Dreamy, sweetie, you need to be more careful! W-what if your wing fell off? (...) Ah... no need to thank me, I'm just glad you're OK..."

(Dreamy points at a crochet blanket Poppy is working on.)

"The blanket? Oh! I began to knit while I waited for you, to get distracted... (...?) Of course you can help! Here, could you hold the yarn for me, please?"

They have a tight-knit friendship! (Get it?)

Poppy is usually anxious about everyone's safety, so Dreamy's calm nature is a welcoming change. She makes sure Poppy's feathers won't get too ruffled when considering 'what-if' scenarios by gently coaxing her into happier, comfier thoughts.

^Though, sometimes Dreamy needs to have a stitch mended or a tear patched, and there is no better suited person for the job than Poppy! But she always feels bad about worrying her friend, so she tries to make it up by helping the large bird around the house.

Dreamy doesn't know how to sew, but Poppy noticed she has a knack for organizing patches, strings, yarns and so, explaining that a clear space is necessary to lower stress.

^Poppy has since then asked Dreamy for help when planning out a new patchwork project. Mostly on how to organize the square patches, since Dreamy is unable to sew herself.

If Dreamy happens to be in her plush form, Poppy will always place her down on a seat opposite of her, surrounded with cushions, scarves and other soft materials to ensure the plush won't lose balance and injure herself while she works on her knitting.

Dreamy always brings Poppy a warm cup of chamomille tea before bed, not hot, however, since she doesn't want her friend to worry about the risks of boiling water. They have long talks, with Dreamy gently chasing Poppy's night terrors away so that she can sleep with a calm mind.

^Poppy treasures her bond with Dreamy because the bat goes out of her way to protect her, just as the bird does for the rest of their neighbors.

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

is crowfeather still bad to breeezepelt?

He is. In a different way.

To be quite honest, even with the changes I've made to him, he would still be a shitty parent to the 3 if he had joined Thunderclan during TNP, PO3, or OOTS.

He doesn't hit Breezepelt now, because that would be too obvious and Squilf would literally kill him...

Instead it's more... Emotional. Verbal. He refuses to show interest in anything his son does, and it all comes down to one statement I heard that resonated with me quite a bit.

"When you become a parent, you go from center stage, to stage crew."

Crowfeather was not ready to accept that he was never going to be center stage again. Nightcloud was MORE than happy with it, girl is at her soundboard and she is vibing.

Crowfeather also... REALLY struggled with a lot of his classes, and so, when Breezepaw turns out to be a prodigy, he gets jealous.

He makes snarky remarks, and ignores his son, who desperately wants to make his father happy.

When Breezepelt finds out about the 3, he "puts it together" that it's them standing in the way of love, it's them that make his father moody and distant, it's THEM that make him gaze at the Thunderclan border like it's a missing limb it's THEM who make him fight with Nightcloud it's THEM it's THEM IT'S THEM-

Sure... He helps find Hollyleaf, because deep down... He feels a connection to them. But he makes it clear, it's the last thing he'll ever do for his siblings. From now on, it's war. They did a kind thing for him, he returned it, now it's on sight.

Crowfeather fights with Nightcloud all the time, and it's damaging to Breezekit and Breezepaw and Breezepelt.

Tigerstar, snake that he is, slinks down one night to Breezepelt, appearing in a dark field, where Breezey-P is drawing in the dirt. A dream, of course. He asks Breeze what's wrong, that he looks so sad, so angry... Ah, his father betrayed him too. Having a mate in another Clan? That's just as bad as becoming a kittypet! No wonder Breezepelt is so upset! A smart young tom like him shouldn't be doing something useless like drawing!

You should be taking action... Start with the blind one. An old friend of mine will teach you how to fight a blind cat best...

Silverhawk takes Breezepelt under his wing, and things begin to spiral.

In the end, after all is said and done, Crowfeather tells Breezepelt something he never expected to hear.

"I'm so glad you're more like your mother. You deserved better than a poor excuse of a father like me."

Breezey's suspicious, is he trying some kind if angle? Pity? What is he-

"I'm sorry. For everything. I hurt you, and I can't take it back, and... I failed you, and Nightcloud. I'm sorry."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I don't forgive you."

"You don't have to."

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

"..."

"You-"

"Be good for Pickle, show him your best hunting spots. Teach him everything you've got in that head of yours. Starclan knows he needs it."

"Thank you, Crowfeather. I will."

"And by the way, Heathertail likes stews best."

"Hey! You-!"

"Goodbye, Breezepelt, and good luck with your new position. May Starclan light your path, always."

Crowfeather knows that their relationship is beyond repair, and that Pickle is a better father to Breezepelt in 4 DAYS than he has been all of Breezey-P's life. The best thing he can do is stop causing damage and do the thing he has wanted to do since leaving The Forest; leave for Thunderclan.

He's got a LOT of apologizing and making up to do. Leafpool tells him that he needs to warn the right to call himself her mate, and the father of her kits. And by god, does he work.

Breezepelt is very happy with his step-dad, who cherishes him, makes him feel wanted and important, and never puts down a thing Breezepelt loves.

[crownrots]

last night episode really got me thinking about elsa and rhaenys’ relationship, both when rhaela was alive and after she passed and rhaenys and corlys took her in (bc why wouldn’t they 🤡 … uncle daddy and auntie step mom). It’s such a tumultuous ride tho … rhaenys initially harboring ill will towards her because she’s technically corlys’ first born to being incredibly instrumental in raising her bc she KNEW her sister’s time with her was going to be short.

i ran out of tags to tag spoilers so: h*td spoilers dawgs for last nights hour of torture.

rhaenys, even if she didn’t show it as much, thought of Elsa as her own and Elsa, despite not showing it, always looked to her for the mother she was robbed of far too soon. The two argued like a parent and child might, the flew their dragons together, laughed and drank and mourned with one another.

But there was always a little sting, a little bit of resentment especially after Laena and Laenor passed, because while her only two children perished… Corlys’ child still lived and thrived and she always had to remind herself that Elsa wasn’t privy to her lineage. Only thought Corlys’ treated her as a daughter because that was expected of him as her aunt’s husband.

It’s not until everything is really laid out in the open that she’s able to let go of that little chip on her shoulder, to let it fall away so she can fully remember and realize the promise she had made to her sister on her death bed all those years ago; she has done far more for elsa than even SHE realized.

and then THIS happens … and the fact that they don’t even get to say goodbye. the fact that the last time they saw each other rhaenys was only catching a glimpse of her hauling ass north because something had gone amiss once jace departed from there. she never got to tell her just how much she loved her and loved raising her. that any anger or resentment or callousness she showed her at ANY point of her life had been ill placed and accidental. she never got to REALLY tell her how proud of her she was. how much of a privilege it had been to raise her up into the woman and mother she had become. she definitely does not see her late sister when she looks at her, but rather sees herself.

and when elsa returns, and in her grief goes to the alter by the tide pools that she’s visited far too often in her lifetime she absolutely loses it. while normally she’d have whittled a piece of wood to look like who she had lost, she stands there and just looks at the line of pieces that are already there; her mother, her grandmother, aemma, laena, laenor, viserys, luke, and her own son, rickon…she can’t put rhaneys there, she just can’t.

and in her grief and rage she destroys it, destroys the one place of peace she’s had all those years. destroys her once place of reflection and one place she could grieve uninterrupted. she rips the alter of driftwood and stone apart with her bare hands, knuckles bleeding.

it’s not a place of remembrance or reflection. it’s a glaring reminder of everything and everyone she’s lost. the empty spaces, a place holder for who might have an effigy placed there next; her husband, her daughters, her only remaining son, her nieces, her nephews, her queen and cousin, her father … the list goes on.

and all the while her dragon watches, feeling every ounce of her grief tenfold, and it’s unlike the kind she’s shared with her before. but when it’s all said am done, just like when elsa was fourteen and had lost her mother, frosteye lifts one opal wing, battle scars from them turning the tide in north still healing, and invites her under. and elsa accepts just as she did before, crawling beneath the wing, sand singing her split knuckles, drawing herself into a fetal position and weeping like a babe.

but she knows rhaenys isn’t coming to check on her like before. she knows frosteye won’t chortle and shift at the high valaryian spoken so softly and clearly to calm her upon approach.

she’s surrounded by so many, needed by so many. but she’s never felt so alone in rhaenys’ absence.

[butdaddyilovehim99]

Summer Kisses, Winter Tears

Chapter Three - Immeasurable Love and Teetering on the Brink

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

18+

Gale Cleven x OC, Winnie Egan

Summary - Winnie and Gale are in love, what else can I say?

Warnings - Cheating and age gap

Winnie is bitter as she dresses for another cold, rainy, and foggy day. She wears black trousers and tucks one of her own gray sweaters into the waistband. She ties her hair back into a French braid—the best option for her curls to avoid the rain, as she misses the heatwaves of August in the States. She misses the warm, humid summers in Manitowoc and the dry, oppressive heat in Texas, even if both were unbearable some days. Winnie hums a tune to herself as she's alone; the Red Cross girls left for their shift while Winnie showered. She slips her arms into her thick wool coat and shoves her feet into the black rubber rain boots she acquired when they first arrived in England—tucking her trousers into the boots to keep them from getting wet.

She wonders if the mission is going to be scrubbed for the day because of the weather when she steps out of the barrack—instantly enveloped by the fog and the drizzle of rain on her head and shoulders. Winnie shoves her hands into her jacket pockets as she treks through the mud to the airfield; she always has to wish her boys good luck.

She looks for John first, wondering which crew he is joining for the mission. She walks by each hard stand and then breaks out into a smile as she sees Mugwump's crew sitting under the fort—John lying back against the landing gear and reading a book. "Aw, Crank you drew the short stick?" She calls as she walks up, making the men look at her. "Or did you do something bad enough to make Harding dump Johnny on you?"

Crank laughs and rolls his eyes, "Reserve Command Pilot is the bullshit title he's got today, can you believe that?"

Winnie giggles and looks to John, "Sounds real important, Major." His eyes squint when he grins up at her.

"Well, that's why they gave it to me. I'm the best." He winks at her as he sits up and brings himself to his feet—ducking down because of the wing until he walks out from under it and stands to his full height in front of Winnie. She looks up at him as he puts a hand on her back and leads her a bit away from the fort to give them privacy.

"Look, we're gonna be gone for a few days." John runs a hand over his jaw with a sigh. "Goin' to Africa, Algeria. Maybe I'll see a lion or somethin'." He jokes easily.

"Lions don't live that far north, Johnny." She tells him, which makes him shrug and grin. She shakes her head fondly. "But, if you do, take a picture, would ya? And please don't try to pet it."

John laughs loudly and pulls her into a hug, kissing the top of her head, and she wraps her arms around his middle. She presses her face to his sheepskin and breathes in; the smell of John's aftershave is strongest, followed by oil and a hint of gunpowder. She smiles as she finds it comforting—and gives him a squeeze before she pulls away, murmuring, "Love you."

His smile is soft and genuine, something only reserved for her and Gale when he looks down at her. "Love ya, Bunny. Keep outta trouble."

Winnie laughs, "Take your own advice, Johnny." She shakes her head again, then peaks around John to wave at the crew with a grin. "See you guys!"

A chorus of 'goodbyes' and 'see ya Winnie' follows her as she walks away; she's grateful for the fog that swallows her after a few feet as she walks the Our Baby. She chews on her lip as the fort and men come into view—a group with Father Teska. Gale stands away from them with another figure. It takes her a second, and as she gets closer, she realizes it's Curt.

Winnie hears their farewells, and Curt walks her way. He arches an eyebrow once he's near her—the gears in his head working, then a slow smirk spreading across his face. He glances over his shoulder back at Gale, then looks at Winnie. She wishes the cold could be blamed for her red cheeks, but she is blushing and bites her lip harder.

Once they are passing side-by-side, he leans in close and says, "Didn't know you're that type of dame, Short Stack."Winnie bristles and stops to look up at him; he meets her eyes for a second before he continues back to his fort. She could see the humor shining in Curt's eyes but also a bit of contempt. Winnie is not happy with the implication of his comment. Her heart picks up with fear that he might tell John that he knows in general. Winnie watches his figure disappear into the fog as Gale walks to her.

"Did Bucky tell you?" Gale asks, completely unaware of what Winnie just witnessed from Curt.

She blinks away her thoughts and looks up at Gale, his presence makes all of her worries fade away. She nods, "I'm going to miss you dearly." She admits with doe eyes and a pout and watches as his hard, "Major Cleven" expression melts and softens for her. His hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach out to her—she wants him to.

A muscle ticks in his jaw. "I'll miss you too. More than you can know." He sighs, his eyes never leaving hers as they are quiet for a long beat of silence—exchanging unspoken 'I love you's.

"Come back to me," Winnie says quietly. It's the best goodbye she can give him, and it's still not a goodbye. It is a request for him to return. Something he can never guarantee, but he nods—resolute. She fights the urge to kiss him as she turns around, walking away from him as the green flare shooting into the sky barely breaks through the fog. A signal of her anxiety returning to her stomach—a heavy weight that drags her down.

The base learns that night of the heavy losses, 11 out of 21. Winnie was worried until it was confirmed John and Gale made it. When they said Curt and Dickie went down, she felt a disgusting flicker of relief before she was overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow. Curt was always kind and funny, maybe the funniest person she'd ever met besides John.

The weather is awful during the days John and Gale are in Algeria, and that makes it harder for Winnie to feel joy. Helen teases her relentlessly while they are alone as she believes Winnie is sad because she is missing Gale. Winnie can't bring herself to admit the real reason, so she hides herself in the infirmary with Maggie. Doc Stover had given Winnie permission to start helping around more as she pleased, and she surprised everyone with her ability to learn relatively quickly.

Winnie tends to a superficial laceration a lieutenant received during a training exercise; she listens with a smile as she lets the man speak about his family back home. He had lit up when she asked him if he had family in the States—he started telling her about his incredible wife who works at the Boeing plant in Seattle. Winnie listens in awe of this woman who builds their B-17s all day; he speaks of her with such love that Winnie feels slightly jealous. She wishes her relationship with Gale didn't have to be a secret, that they could love each other so openly.

"Sounds like you're both lucky to have each other." She smiles as she secures the last bit of gauze. The lieutenant blushes a bit as he nods and thanks her. She gathers the supplies and waste, cleaning up her space as he goes on his way. Winnie perks up when she hears the telltale roar of the fort engines in the distance growing louder as they approach. She washes her hands after disposing of the medical waste and then lets Maggie know she is heading off.

Winnie makes a pit stop in a washroom to make sure her hair isn't unruly. She smooths a hand over her dress, a pretty pink one with a white cardigan, because Gale would be back today. She smiles a little at her reflection, giddy to see him. By the time Winnie leaves the infirmary, the transport trucks have brought all the men back to base—the sun hanging just barely over the horizon and casting pretty hues of pink and orange in the sky.

She looks for Gale first, her fingers fidgeting with the skirt of her dress. "Bunny!" John shouts happily with a big grin as he makes his way over to her. He wraps her up in a tight hug and asks loudly, "Did ya miss me?"

"Course I did, Johnny." Winnie laughs and returns his hug, noticing his sunburnt nose. She imagines his shoulders are fiery red, making her freckles darker. "And you missed me."

John pulls away, still grinning, "I'm gonna shower, then head to the pub with the fellas. I'll see ya at breakfast." He kisses her cheek before he heads off towards his barrack. She feels a twinge of sadness that he's running off so quickly, but then her eyes land on Gale, and she's glad that John is going to the pub.

Gale's eyes are already on hers, and he nods. It is a simple gesture to say that he'll be with her in a moment. Winnie does a lap around a couple of the buildings to keep herself from standing right outside the equipment hut. However, she still looks ridiculous hanging around. Gale is out of the building reasonably quick and always punctual. Winnie smiles as he's without his flight gear now, in his pinks and greens with his brown leather jacket since it's warm enough not to wear his sheepskin. Her smile falls a little once he's close enough for her to see the minor cuts on the left side of his face; she fights to hide her worry.

Most of the men are occupied, so Winnie and Gale walk away together, not bothering to stagger their departures but still keeping their bodies a respectable distance from each other as they walk.

His hand goes straight to her waist once they walk into the tree line, and she shivers at the simple touch. She really missed him; four days felt like an eternity apart. Gale filled her every thought through the days, wondering what he was doing and if he missed her as well. Winnie looks up towards him, watching his profile as his lips twitch up into a smile—his eyes slide down to meet hers.

"I missed you, darling." He murmurs as if reading her thoughts, and she smiles sheepishly. His free hand reaches up to cup her cheek, and she closes her eyes for a brief moment.

"I missed you terribly, Gale," Winnie admits quietly and leans into his body as they reach the field. Gale removes his arm from around her to grab the blanket and throw it out onto the ground. He takes her hand as she slips off her kitten heels, then helps her to the ground while he sits beside her. He holds his arms open for her, and Winnie basically throws herself into his embrace—pressing her body to Gale's as he lies back, bringing her with him by his hold on her waist.

He moves a hand from her waist, cups the side of her neck, and makes her tilt her head back to look at him. Gale leans close, letting his breath fan out over her lips—she lets them apart in anticipation. Winnie shivers and closes her eyes as she whispers, "Please."

Gale ghosts his lips along hers, tongue dipping out to lick against her bottom lip, and she lets out a little whimper. She can hear the smirk in his voice when he whispers, "I've got you, darling." His lips are on hers, and he presses her body closer to her waist. Their lips work together in a languid, passionate kiss. Gale's tongue slips into her mouth, and she moves hers to meet his.

Winnie moans into his mouth when Gale moves his thigh between her legs and pulls her along the firm muscle by her hip. Her hands fist his shirt as she rocks her hips slowly, the friction giving her a bit of reprieve. Their lips part with a wet smack, a string of saliva connecting them for a brief second, then splits as he kisses Winnie's jaw and her neck.

She lets out soft puffs of air as she continues rocking her hips; her fingers move to swiftly take off his tie—tossing it aside before making quick work of the small buttons of his shirt. Winnie lets out a moan when he sucks at the hinge of her jaw. "Gale, no marks." She breathes out the reminder. She wants nothing more than to be covered in the marks of his passion and love, but it's not possible.

He grunts in response and laves his tongue over the spot. She pushes his shirt off of his shoulders, and he helps get it the rest of the way off, and it's tossed aside like his tie. Winnie runs her hands over his suntanned shoulders, noting how warm the skin is from the sun. She lets her nails graze down his chest, through the light blond hairs on his pecs, then down to his abdomen—smirking a little as he shivers above her.

Her hands work on his belt as Gale flips them so he's hovering over her on his knees between her legs. "You look pretty today, darling, in this little dress." He murmurs as he sits back to admire her—she blushes as he looks over her dress and then meets her gaze with soft eyes. Gale starts pushing her dress up; she sits up a bit to let him pull the zipper down, then lifts the dress over her head. He bites his bottom lip as he takes her in, then says, "Even prettier without it."

Gale captures Winnie's lips in a searing kiss, running his hands along her soft thighs, up her hips and waist, reaching around to release her bra with the flick of one hand. She brings the straps down and chucks it aside, not caring where any of the clothes land. Gale finishes the task of unbuckling his belt before unbuttoning his slack and sliding the zipper down. Winnie nips hungrily at his plush bottom lip, and he pulls away to push his slacks and briefs down.

Winnie takes the opportunity to take her own underwear off and wraps her legs back around Gale's hips. "Please, I need you. I miss you so much." She babbles desperately, and he squeezes her thigh.

"I'll take care of you, darling." He looks into her eyes, and she nods, trying to find some patience. Gale keeps her gaze as he leans down to her body and presses kisses along her chest, between the valley of her breasts, a hand moving up to swipe his thumb over her nipped before taking the whole breast in his hand and massaging it. She lets out a soft sigh and arches her back from the ground into his touch.

Gale kisses down her stomach, over her navel, and to her pelvis. He presses a kiss to each of her hip bones and nips lightly, continuing down to her parted legs, and she is confused by his actions. She's about to ask him what he's doing when his tongue slips through her wetness, and she gasps, hips jerking away. His hands hold her hips into place as he licks at her again, tongue swirling around her bundle of nerves, her clit she learned. Winnie had overheard some of the girls talking a few weeks ago and learned more than she thought was possible. They had talked about what Gale is doing now but she didn't believe men really did this.

Winnie lets out a long moan when Gale's lip wraps around her clit, and he sucks lightly. Her hand tangles in his hair, tugging him closer while also trying to wiggle away. He holds her perfectly in place, his tongue moving lower and dipping into her pussy, causing her to bite her lip. Winnie thinks this must be the closest thing to heaven on earth, this pure electrifying pleasure.

She writhes and moans as he works his tongue in and out slowly before turning his attention back to her clit. She whines and rocks her hips against his face as the coil in her stomach tightens. "Gale, I'm going to—" she doesn't finish as she cries out a moan as her orgasm takes over her senses, vision blurring to black, all sounds fading out, and her toes curling. She knows she has a vice-like grip on his hair, but he doesn't complain or stop until she comes down from her high. Gale presses gentle kisses and nips to her inner thighs before he kisses up her body. When she opens her eyes, his chin is slick with her wetness, and she would blush if it hadn't felt quite so extraordinarily groundbreaking.

"Tastes as sweet as candy." Gale breathes with a smirk. Winnie doesn't mind when he presses his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, and she tastes herself on his tongue; he wasn't wrong, she realizes with a whine in her throat. His tongue slides along hers as she feels his cock slip through her wet folds, coating the length with a few short thrusts. He holds her thigh with his left hand while using the right to guide his cock into her pussy. They both moan into each other's mouths when his tip pushes inside.

Winnie digs her nails into his shoulders and spreads her legs wider, heels of her feet pressing into his ass to get him to sink in completely. He takes the hint and puts his right hand on her thigh, tilting her hips back as he pushes in until they are flush together.

She takes in a breath and rolls her hips against him, letting him know she's ready and that she doesn't need time to adjust. He starts slow like always, though, gentle as ever with her, barely pulling his hips back before pushing back in—each pull of his hips brings more force to his thrusts.

He presses his face to her chest, kissing and nipping at the cool, sweat-damp skin. She tangles a hand in the hair at his nape, holding him close. "Feels good, darling," he murmurs on her skin, "always need you. Missed you so much. I love you."

She barely comprehends his sweet words as she's lost in her own pleasure. His hands slide along her skin to hold her waist as he thrusts into her at a steady pace—it is perfect, and her walls flutter around his cock, causing a strangled moan to leave his chest.

In this moment, Winnie knows Gale is as down bad for her as she is for him and she feels powerful. This strong man, a United States Army Air Force Major, a seasoned bomber pilot, is moaning against her skin and gripping her waist so tight that she knows she'll bruise. He loves her, and that's all she's ever wanted.

When she's wrapped in his embrace, and they are enveloped by their passion, they can forget about the outside world, the war, Gale's responsibilities, the odds against him, her brother’s descent into whatever darkness has a hold of him… They can simply be two lovers making love during the sunset and well into the night, and Winnie and Gale do just that.

-

Winnie's birthday at the end of August arrives with the fanfare of a national holiday. It's a beautiful, blue sky day, made even better with her boys staying on the ground. John had convinced Harding to let Winnie go up in a fort for a little joy ride or flight at her request. If Winnie didn't know any better, she'd swear Harding is just a big softy for her and his crews.

That's how she finds herself behind the yoke yet again on her birthday; Gale sat in the lead pilot/s seat to her left, and John coaching from over her shoulder. She doesn't think Harding knows this was the plan; John probably swore she would sit in the bombardier's seat in the nose—just a passenger.

She's grinning, and her cheeks hurt, but that doesn't make her stop. She's too giddy—having the time of her life. Winnie risks a glance at Gale, and her heart does a flip; he gazes at her with such adoration, and she has to look away as her cheeks flush.

She understands why John and Gale love flying as much as they do. It's peaceful and serene, the blue sky spread out in all directions. Nothing but white fluffy clouds to keep you company, much too high to be joined by birds or any other living thing.

Winnie's mind drifts from the picturesque view she has to what it must be like over the skies of Europe. She had overheard some men describe the living hell they went through. The flak tearing through the hull of the fort, nearly slicing clean through them; the way the flak lightens up or completely stops just before you hear the sound of a German fighter's artillery puncturing along the fort. But Winnie isn't over Europe; she's flying over to England with her brother and the man she loves. The three of them are happy at this moment—and that's all she needs to push aside the terrors in her mind.

Winnie eventually gives control back to Gale and watches as he gets a playful smirk. She squeals and laughs as he buzzes the tower; John laughs loudly, "Always gotta show off, huh, Buck?"

"It's her birthday, John. Gotta do something memorable." Gale keeps smirking for a moment as if he's thinking of something.

John doesn't seem to notice as he hums, "You're still a show-off."

Winnie rolls her eyes and smiles, "I thought it was fun." She says she's happy as can be. She's trusted to help Gale through the landing—flipping switches when he says and confirms her actions.

John helps her out of the fort when they've taxied into the hard stand, holding her by the waist as he sets her onto her feet; she is still grinning. "Thank you, Johnny. I will never get tired of that."

He smiles, and he lets her go as Gale hops down from the hatch. "Well, I'd say it's about time to get ready for the party." He says after straightening up.

Winnie smiles and nods. "I would say so; you better be ready to dance tonight, Johnny. It's a birthday request." She smiles even more prominent when he does a goofy little shake of his shoulders and snaps her fingers.

"Oh, I was born ready, Bunny!" John grins, his eyes squinting, and she giggles at him.

Later, she stands in the officer's club, which is decorated to the nines for her birthday. John gifted her a darling pink dancing dress for today, and she wears it proudly, feeling special. She sips on a cola while she catches her breath after a long dancing session with John. He stayed on the dance floor with another gal while Winnie walked back over to Gale.

She looks up at him and smiles, uncaring if someone sees her. "You'll dance with me one day." She says it quietly, just loud enough for him to hear. It's not a question or a request but a statement. Winnie knows she'll convince him in the future.

The corners of his mouth curl up around his toothpick. "Will I?' He asks.

Winnie nods and bats her lashes at him for good measure. "You will, for me." She swears he's going to lean in and kiss her, but John walks up out of breath, and he's chuckling. He reaches for his whiskey in between Gale and Winnie—she takes a step back to give him space.

Gale gives her a look while John tips his head back down the whiskey; she knows the look well enough after all these weeks, and she gives him a little nod.

"I'm turning in for the night, Bucky. Don't have too much fun without me." Gale pats his shoulder, and John starts to protest, but Winnie pulls his attention away.

"Johnny, can you get me another cola?" She pouts as she shakes her empty bottle, and his eyes land on her, letting Gale sneak away. John is drunk; Winnie knew that about four songs ago when his footwork got sloppy during a simple foxtrot. He is easily distracted by her request, and he takes her empty bottle before walking to the bar; just as Winnie suspected, he gets drawn into a conversation with a few guys.

Winnie leaves the club and smiles as Gale is waiting for her with his hands in his pockets. She sneaks a glance around, and once satisfied, she loops her hand through his arm and holds on to him as they walk.

Gale leads them to a quieter spot on base, closer to the women's barracks, and between two buildings where they are less likely to be spotted. Winnie slips her hand from his arm, and he moves in front of her; she looks up at him and sees apprehension in his eyes. He's nervous, she realizes, and moves closer to him. "Gale, what is it?"

He looks into her eyes; his expression is soft. "There's something I want to give you for your birthday." He starts reaching into his pocket.

"You didn't have to get me anything." She says as she watches him, a little surprised. Everything is being heavily rationed—what could he have possibly gotten for her?

"I didn't. I've had this for a long time, actually." Gale clears his throat, a bit of emotion creeping into his voice. "It was my mother's."

Winnie's eyes widen as he pulls out a ring. It has a large oval diamond in a delicate, detailed, Edwardian platinum setting. Tears prick her eyes as she looks from the ring to Gale's eyes.

"When she passed away, this was the one thing I hid from my dad. I couldn't let him gamble this away." His eyes shine with emotion, and she reaches up to cup his cheek; he closes his eyes and leans into her touch.

"Gale, I can take this," Winnie whispers, shaking her head. "It's too much. Too important to you."

He opens his eyes to meet her again. "Winnie, you are important to me. I want you to keep it safe for me now." He bites his lip before he continues. "Until I complete my 25th. It's my vow to always come back to you until I get you a ring of your own and make a different vow."

Winnie has tears flowing down her cheeks now. She lets out a little sniffle and nods. "Okay, I'll keep it safe." Her heart and mind race as she processes what he said. He wants to marry her, make her his wife—and she couldn't be any happier.

He gently takes her left hand and slips the ring onto her ring finger— a perfect fit. She sniffles and looks up at him before he presses his lips to hers. He holds her face in both hands and kisses her like he can prove all of his love with the movement of his lips—she thinks he might be able to.

When their lips part, Gale is smiling down at her like she hung the moon. His thumbs swipe the tears from her cheeks then he takes her hand and walks her to her barrack. It's late enough that they won't get caught, but neither of them cares so much at the moment. He gives her a quick kiss on her cheek and makes sure Winnie gets inside the barrack before he departs.

For the first night in a long time, Winnie dreams of a future. A lovely future—she and Gale are older; they stand on a porch with Gale's arm around her waist and his other hand rubbing her noticeable baby bump. She hears high-pitched giggling and John's laughs in the distance. Her eyes land on her big brother, who is grinning as he chases a little one through the grass.

-

The whole base is a buzz for Major Dye and the crew of Sunny II's 25th mission; if they return, they will be the first crew to make it to 25. It's a stark reminder that no crews have managed it yet, but it will also be proof that it can be done. Winnie sits on the hood of a jeep between Croz and Brady, with Blakely sat in the driver's seat and Hambone sitting in the back with a couple other guys; they're surrounded by some of the newer replacements that Winnie hasn't had much of a chance to learn their names.

It's a beautiful late summer day, and most of the men wear their A2 rather than their heavy sheepskin, along with their aviator sunglasses. They are what America pictures when they think of the Air Force. Winnie wears a light green dress with a white floral pattern—teeny little flowers covering it—and her classic kitten heels. Her curls stay loose for the day, hanging perfectly down her back. She'd say a good hair day is a pretty good omen for the whole day if she was superstitious.

Her eyes scan the sky for any sign of the forts, but they are still clear blue. The guys chat around her, but they don't draw her attention until Brady nudges her with her elbow, and she blinks at him. Brady just nods his head back towards the guys sitting in the jeep, so she turns her body to look at them.

"Didn't John sleep with that girl, Lil? I can't believe Dye is head over heels for her." One of the new guys says, motioning toward Lil. She watches the sky with worry on her face. Winnie imagines that is how she looks each time Gale and John fly off.

Winnie doesn't like this guy's tone and judgment of Lil. She knows most of the guys in this general vicinity have slept with random women here in England, hell, probably most men on base. She's heard rumors of the married ones doing it too.

"I am not my brother's keeper," Winnie says flippantly, "John is a wild mustang, and I can't keep track of each of his misgivings. Besides, Lil is happy with Dye; her past doesn't matter."

The man hums and nods, "I don't think John can keep track either." He says it with a grin—a physical gesture that proves he thinks it okay for John to sleep around, but not Lil.

Hambone clears his throat and leans forward, "Winnie, do you know if Helen has a beau back home?"

Winnie fights a smirk, keeping her face neutral—maybe putting on her innocent doe eyes, "No, she doesn't, Hammy. Why?"

The men around the jeep teeter on the edge of laughter and jab each other with their elbows. Hambone clears his throat again; his cheeks have gone pink, and he rubs the back of his neck. "Well, she's real pretty and sweet as molasses. I was just wondering if you can introduce me to her?"

Winnie does let out a giggle, "You haven't spoken to her yet, Hammy?" He shakes his head bashfully, and she rolls her eyes fondly. She tells him firmly, "I will ask her if she is interested in a date."

The men cheer and jostle Hambone, and he blushes more. She giggles again and turns forward again, leaning back against the windshield. She can faintly hear the Hambone gushing about how pretty Helen is to someone, and she smiles softly. Winnie closes her eyes and enjoys the warm sun for a moment before honk interrupts her peace.

John pulls up with a Gale in a jeep of their own, and Winnie wonders where the heck he commandeered it from as he doesn't have access to a jeep now. She is not surprised, though. Her eyes follow Gale as he unfolds his long legs after the jeep and walks over with his usual swagger. John and Gale both have their aviator sunglasses on; while John wears his white sheepskin, Gale wears the A2. Winnie has come to love it on Gale as it shows off his broad shoulders and slim hips—less bulky than the sheepskin.

Winnie looks away when his lips curl into a smirk as he's caught her staring. She can hear the men exchanging greetings, and then she moves to get off the hood. Brady and Croz each offer their hand, which she gladly accepts.

"Careful, Short Stack," Brady murmurs, placing his other hand on her back as she steps down and gets her balance.

"Thank you, fellas." She flashes a bright smile at them before walking over to John and Gale, placing herself right in between them—where she belongs. "Aren't you hot in that thing, Johnny?"

"Beauty is pain, Bunny." He smirks, and she snorts; he doesn't even know the have of it.

"Please, as a man, you have it much easier. Besides, you choose to wear the sheepskin in the heat. You'd be much more comfortable in the A2, and you'd still look dapper—attract all the ladies in the village." She wrinkles her nose at the thought, and he laughs loudly.

"You can't convince me to get rid of the jacket, Bunny," John says, reading right through their argument.

She grins and shrugs, "It was worth a try. It looks absolutely filthy as always." She rubs a hand over a particular spot, but it doesn't budge.

"Gives it character!" He grins proudly, and she lets it go just as the crowd erupts into cheers at the sigh of the forts. They turn to watch as Dye's fort swoops low—Winnie covers her ears but grins wildly as they buzz the tower, turning her body to follow the fort and keep watching. The force of the wind whips around them is exhilarating, and she drops her hands from her ears.

Major Dye did it; he completed 25–and if Dye can do it, so can John and Gale. They are the best pilots of the 100th, and they will do it. Winnie looks up at Gale, then John, and smiles; they are laughing about something, and the air is light. There is no stress, no weight of the world on their shoulders at this moment. Winnie brushes her hand against Gale's before she pulls John down by his jacket to kiss his cheek.

The party in the officer's club is the biggest shindig Winnie has seen on base. Everyone is in good spirits and having fun. Quite a few couples dance on the dance floor while Winnie sits between DeMarco and Gale to pet Meatball. She hasn't taken in a single word from any of the guys since Benny sat beside her with Meatball—but she does think of how she wishes she could dance with Gale. It's a feeble dream; she knows Gale doesn't dance—never has, but it's nice to dream of them wrapped up together, swaying to the music.

Winnie adjusts her position in her seat to let her knee press against Gale's. She feels his eyes on her, and she fights a smile as she continues to scratch behind Meatball's ear. She keeps their knees touching for a few minutes before she stands and makes her way to the bar.

Winnie asks for another cola and watches the dance floor. She spots a group of new guys ogling Helen, and she suppresses a laugh—it seems like Helen is popular today. Winnie takes a sip of her coke and watches as another man dances up to them. It's goofy but charming, and she smiles as she watches; when Gale and John approach the group, it feels like the perfect opportunity to meet them as well.

She nears just as the word 'skivvies' leaves the dancer's mouth. Winnie giggles, and their eyes all land on her. The four men blush, especially the dancer, while John and Gale hold in laughter. "Is that any way to speak in front of a lady? Especially when she's my baby sister." John pretends to scold them, but he's grinning and they chuckle nervously.

"Winnie Egan, Mr. Twinkle Toes." Winnie introduces herself with a laugh before they introduce themselves. The dancer, Rosie, looks like he wants the earth to open up and swallow him. She hangs around for a bit once Gale and John depart and looks up at Rosie. She smiles and says, "Trust me, that wasn't as bad of a meeting as you think it was."

Rosie looks a little relieved, but he isn't entirely convinced when she walks away, back to the bar to her boys. Winnie stands between them and sips her cola. The bartender gives John a whiskey; she wonders how many he's had but she doesn't say anything. She never says anything.

Winnie is out of place when Colonel Harding tells everyone near the bar to gather around—a bit squashed between Gale and John, her body presses against Gale's, and she knows she should pull away, but the tight circle around Harding is the perfect excuse to stay close so she does.

She doesn't understand what Harding is going on about. She knows he is very drunk, but he speaks about bombing Hitler, and she realizes he is hammered—probably won't ever remember this conversation in the morning.

"Now whose flak happy?" John's voice rings in her ears and makes her blood go cold. She can't believe he would speak to a superior officer—his commanding officer, with such blatant disrespect. Her eyes flick to Harding, and she trembles as Harding stares down at John. Gale places his hand on her back to steady her, and it grounds her.

"You are," Harding says low and doesn't break eye contact, not intimidated by John.

To Winnie's horror, John doubles down. "No, you are, sir." He taps Harding's chest with the back of his hand for good measure, and Winnie holds her breath—everyone does besides the two men locked into a staring contest.

Gale is tense, but he rubs Winnie's back to ease her nerves. She lets out a breath when Harding starts to laugh, John smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. Her stomach aches as she watches him. Harding and the rest of the group depart, but Winnie and Gale stay with John.

She listens silently while Gale and John discuss a weekend pass. Gale turns down John's invitation to join him—she can't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the thought of having Gale to herself for two whole days. She bites her lip as she watches Gale walk to Meatball and kiss his head before picking him up. He sways to the music, and Winnie lets herself smile; the scene is too cute.

"I'm telling Marge, Buck!" John quips, and Gale winks at him, but Winnie's smile falls. She thought Gale would have told John about breaking things off with Marge by now—but he hasn't and it puts a bad taste in her mouth. She sips her cola, then kisses John's cheek goodnight and leaves the club.

"Hey, Winnie! Let me walk you to your barrack." Rosie offers with a sweet smile as he makes his way over to her, having walked out just behind her.

"Alright, thank you." She smiles, and they set off towards the women's barracks. She asks about his life back home and is impressed that he was a lawyer who decided to join the war effort. He also asks about her home life, and she tells him her story and John's story—it's always been intertwined like that; John and Winnie Egan are never separate.