#but I wanted to draw at least some of her shirt for my sanity

[justmediocrewriting]

“White Lace,” {v.s}

Summary: it’s laundry day on the Merry, and ever the gentleman, Sanji offered to take Nami’s place when the navigator explained that she was too exhausted to attend to the chore. Sanji expected to simply find a sore back and pruny fingers by doing so, but instead he found much more…

Or: Sanji finds a pair of your white lace underwear, and you catch him in the middle of washing them, resulting in some tension and embarrassment between the both of you.

Genre: spice (no smut, but dirty thoughts and suggestive themes)

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Requested: ❌

Warnings: I kinda feel this could fall under voyeurism to an extent, because Sanji does find a pair of your panties and kind of like plays with them, so maybe it does? Idk. Some rather not-so-innocent thoughts from Sanji, sexualization, very slight virginity kink if you squint really hard, panty sniffing, panty licking, sexual tension(ish?), female pronouns and parts mentioned

A/n: so I’ve got roughly 10+ things in my drafts right now but this literally WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE, so I knew I had to write it. I hope you hoes enjoy ❤️ might do a part 2 idkkkk. 18+ under the cut, ye have been warned.

{=================================}

Sanji found comfort in routine. For some, a humdrum life would become quickly boring, but for Sanji repetition was key to his sanity. It was the main reason that Sanji was so fluidly quick in creating a new routine from the first day he’d agreed to set sail with Luffy — that and that it had helped cure the insistent anxiety of being at sea again after so many years of remaining stationary.

Sanji greatly disliked breaking routine unless the situation absolutely called for it; a battle, for example, or in this morning’s case, a beautiful woman asking him for help.

Sanji enjoyed routine, but he enjoyed satisfying women a lot more.

So when Nami had entered the galley, hair mussed and eyes hazy and unfocused with a small basket of laundry perched delicately on her hip, Sanji was quick to abandon the first step of his daily routine (taking inventory of the galley stock) and pluck the basket from her arm.

Nami sighed gratefully and her shoulders slumped with relief.

“Thanks, Sanji.” Nami muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion, and Sanji felt his heart lurch with sympathy. It wasn’t as though he was a stranger to fatigue.

“I spent most of the night drawing the charts to the next few islands. I guess I got so wrapped up in it I just hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.”

Sanji nodded along to her explanation as he gently set the basket of clothes atop the island counter, and in the process he inadvertently let his eyes skim across the articles within. Colors popped against one another, like a cluttered rainbow of pinks, blues, whites, reds, and teals — from what Sanji could see they were mostly shirts.

“Laundry day, aye?” Sanji asked conversationally, tearing his eyes from the basket to smile at Nami. She groaned and brought a hand up to massage the back of her neck as she nodded.

“Yeah. There’s a few of my shirts in there, but it’s mostly (Y/N)’s clothes. She washed mine last week, so I agreed to wash hers this week.”

Sanji frowned and appraised the tired woman before him; it pained him to see a woman like Nami having to work so hard. He’d always felt that life at sea, what with so much to maintain, was far too harsh for a lady — ladies were meant to be spoiled and taken care of, at least in Sanji’s eyes. Nami had chosen a life at sea, and Sanji knew that with this decision she’d long accepted the responsibilities of such, and he had no doubt that Nami could handle it, but if Sanji could do something to help relieve her of some of the work he would.

“I can take care of it for you, if you want.” Sanji said, and Nami’s eyes snapped open. She looked equal parts relieved and panicked by his offer, and she hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, Sanji, I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve already got enough on your plate.” Nami murmured, and then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, “we all do.”

Sanji rolled his shoulders in dismissal of her worry. “You’re not asking, love. I’m offering. And I’m not too terribly busy; it’s still early, so I’ll have plenty of time to prep breakfast before Luffy wakes up.”

Nami bit her lip, and she looked minutely closer to accepting the offer, but there was still a hardened hesitation in her eyes. Sanji smiled ever gently at her.

“It’s alright, Nami. Why not go back to your quarters and rest for a bit? I’ll take care of this.”

Finally, Nami sighed and relented to acceptance. With a small but grateful nod, she gave Sanji a tired smile before turning on her heel to exit the galley; before she did so, she placed a manicured hand against the door frame and sent him one last glance.

“Really, Sanji, thank you. Once you’re done washing them you don’t have to worry about hanging them to dry; just come get me and I’ll do that.” And with that Nami breezed from the galley, and Sanji gave a small chuckle at her attempt to take some of the load off of him. Even if it was Nami’s turn to do the laundry as was her responsibility, Sanji wouldn’t allow her to set them to dry — he’d do that himself, as well; and he even set it in his mind that he’d fold them as well.

It wasn’t until Sanji pulled out the first shirt that he began to feel as though he shouldn’t have offered his help; because the fabric in his hand was familiar, and it dawned on him that the majority of the clothes in the basket were yours. It was a detail that Sanji had skimmed by when Nami was explaining the situation, and now the reality of it was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Sanji’s skin prickled as if he were committing the most atrocious sin, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. The shirt in his hand was one of your favorites; you’d worn it a lot, and just looking at the rumpled article supplied Sanji with various memories of you donning it. It looked rather pleasant on you, especially when the hem of it rose slightly to reveal the smallest sliver of skin when you moved in just the right way, and Sanji had to quickly place it back in the basket and take a deep inhale to staunch the blood flowing towards his groin.

Sanji’s attraction to you was something that he vaguely felt might be out of hand; he was a lover of women, yes, but never had he experienced a pull as strong as the one he had towards you. Maybe it was the way innocence practically poured from your aura, or the way your cheeks brightened with any pet name or compliment he offered you, as if such attention was a completely new experience for you — whatever it was, it was highly alluring to Sanji, and he found himself wanting more and more of it – of you – every day.

Sanji flared his nostrils a few more times, every breath deep and steadying, repeatedly telling himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong and his intentions were of the best, and to get a fucking grip, Sanji. Just wash the clothes and be normal!

As he relocated the basket next to the sink and pulled out a pale yellow shirt Sanji deliberately tried to focus his thoughts on anything other than the fact that he was touching your clothes, that you’d worn them and they’d clung to your skin and more than likely smelled of you, of that wonderful floral perfume that was subtle but nearly overpowering in close proximity — that thought alone had Sanji itching to bring the fabric to his nose and inhale, and he had to quickly turn the faucet on and shove the article beneath the stream of water to avoid doing so.

Piece by piece, mechanically and as empty headed as possible, Sanji soaked and washed the clothes under the stream of water, wringing each article out generously to avoid the chance of mildew. By the time he was half way through the basket, Sanji felt confident that he could get through the process without too much trouble (or too many inappropriate thoughts or southward flowing blood); but that was quickly wiped from his psyche when he mindlessly groped within the basket and laid touch to something soft and small and lacy.

Upon pulling it out to examine it, Sanji was hit with a flush of arousal so strong that it nearly knocked him off his feet; gripped within his fingers, soft and lacy and so, so delicate looking, was a pair of white, sheer panties. Sanji’s entire being short circuited, train of thought screeching to a halt and brain being instead assaulted by a myriad of images — of those sheer white panties clinging to your hips, cupping the swell of your ass in such a tantalizing way, hem resting against your tummy and rising in time with your labored breaths as Sanji picked you apart molecule by molecule —

“Stop,” Sanji hissed to himself, cursing his traitorous dick when it hardened to half mast in his dress pants, twitching in approval with each new image and thought that flashed into his hind brain. Sanji knew he should look away, knew he could stop these reactions if he just put the panties away, abandoned the task and fetched Nami instead to finish it — and though Sanji swore to himself that he wouldn’t do that due to his pride as a gentleman, the deepest part of him knew that he wasn’t going to do it because he was curious, and he was enjoying this, as much as that fact ashamed him.

Panties were one of the most, if not the most, intimate articles of clothing a woman could wear; they covered the sweetest fruit, kept it protected and out of sight, and they constantly shifted and hugged that sensitive pearl beneath. They were precious, and the fact that they belonged to you made them even more so.

Sanji nearly groaned at the thought; he could so clearly see you wearing the panties, see the way they hugged against your pussy, could imagine just how drenched the center would get as he worked you into oblivion with his lips —

Sanji opened the panties and this time, a groan did slip past his lips — because right there, in the center of the bridge of the panties, right where they would cling to your pussy, the fabric was slightly darker, and Sanji’s dick jumped at the sight. The overwhelming urge to shove them against his nose and breathe in the phantom traces of your slick sent alternating waves of arousal and intense shame through Sanji, because that was dirty, these panties were dirty, they were yours and it would be such an abuse of your trust in him if he did something like that — but the longer he stared, the stronger the urge became, and soon enough arousal had completely consumed shame, and Sanji quickly brought the panties to his face, shoving his nose directly into the center and inhaling. Sanji panted heavily against the fabric as the sweet scent entered his nostrils; it was faint, as he’d assumed it would be, but it was there, and it was so much sweeter than Sanji could have ever imagined.

Sanji pressed his hips into the counter as he took in lungfuls of your scent, hissing lowly at the pressure against the straining bulge in his pants, hips moving just so to chase a semblance of friction — consumed by sudden lust and the thought of you, the scent of you, and the urge to taste where you were sweetest, Sanji laved his tongue against the dried patch of slick, moaning haughtily into the softness of your panties.

Sanji’s surroundings and reality seemed to completely melt away as he lost himself within the sensations of smelling and tasting you, something he so longed for — just as much as he longed to corrupt you, to show you all the naughty things he shouldn’t, like he longed to see you wearing these panties, so innocent and white, and see them become forever stained from actions that were too devious and sinful for such a color.

Sanji wanted to stain you — he wanted your innocent little brain to fog over with lust, to see you discombobulate on his cock as he stretched you wide, as he took you to heights you’d never been, watch those beautiful eyes of yours roll back and watch you bare that lovely neck to him, to bite and mark and cover, to claim you, inside and out.

Sanji let out a guttaral groan as his hips picked up speed; the counter was firm and hard against his cock, a far cry from the soft, wet warmth he craved to be buried inside, but it offered friction, and with how hard his cock was, that’s what he needed, even if it was a bit unpleasant.

As consumed as he was by the myriad of sensations stoking his arousal, the soft rapping of knuckles against the wooden doorframe of the galley was almost lost on him; but thankfully, his ears had picked it up, and as if they had burned him, Sanji threw the panties into the sink below him. There was a soft splat against the steel, and Sanji winced as he realized the bridge of the panties had been soaked with his saliva — thankfully, the sound was too faint to be heard from the doorway, and the relief that offered Sanji increased tenfold as he turned to look over his shoulder and caught sight of you.

Sanji’s breath caught in his throat, and nearly all traces of arousal had been chased away by deep-seated shame, and Sanji did his best to smile at you through the guilt.

“Good morning, love. Is there something you need?” Sanji forced his voice to stay calm despite the sheer panic and guilt threatening to weigh it down; Sanji’s heart was thundering within his chest, battering against his ribcage with the force of a raging bull, and he willed his erection to just go away —

But his dick was not cooperating with him, and it stayed rock hard within his pants as you smiled back shyly and began to approach him; as you turned the corner of the island counter, Sanji belatedly realized that you had a small basket tucked under your arm, with a few articles of clothing within.

“Nothing much, Sanji. Nami told me you were helping with the laundry today, and I found these in our room so I thought I’d bring them in and offer you some help—”

Sanji watched with growing dread as you paused just a couple inches from the sink, your eyes zeroing in on the panties within and widening as your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape (which did not help with his erection, as his mind went to very shadowy places from the sight), and your cheeks went from normal to beet red in seconds (which also didn’t help, because it was far too pretty of a color on you).

Heavy, awkward silence fell over the galley as you stared, frozen, at the sink — Sanji wanted to look away from you, knew that you were far beyond embarrassed right now and that his staring was certainly not helping, but he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Arousal was still thrumming beneath his skin, and it was like seeing you in a whole new light; knowing that those sweet, innocent, pretty panties belonged to you, that you’d worn them, that they sat snugly against your pussy and became saturated in you, in your innocence, had his dick twitching and fingers itching to pull your body flush against his. He wanted to see you wearing them for him, wanted you to bend over and present to him, so that he could see the outline of your pussy, soaked and ready, through the fabric —

Sanji inhaled sharply and tore his eyes away from you, and part of him wanted to stutter out an apology, beg for your forgiveness — he was being so shameful, sexualizing you objectifying you in the way he was, craving to take away your innocence, something that was so deeply ingrained into who you were —

But the words were stuck in his throat, unable to move past the lump of sheer shame and regret, and even if they could, would Sanji really have the courage to admit what he’d done, let alone apologize for it?

He truly didn’t know if he would.

Sanji’s actions had been so unbecoming, had went against the very essence of his code — but that was just the simple fact of it; you had this effect on him, a tendency to bring out the worst in him. And if Sanji were being honest with himself, he enjoyed it. He secretly loved the fact that you could draw that dormant beast from its slumber, all without even knowing you were doing it.

“Those, um… those are…” to Sanji’s surprise, it was your voice that broke the silence, and though he knew it would only stir him up more, Sanji snapped his eyes to you. You vehemently ignored any eye contact with him, gaze still locked on the sink, and in the blink of an eye with movements that were much faster than Sanji’s fuddled mind could perceive, your hand shot out and you ripped the panties from the sink, throwing them hastily into the basket before resituating it on your hip.

“I’ll w-wash these later,” you mumbled, cheeks still flaming, and Sanji hated the way his dick twitched at the sight. It was such a show of innocent bashfulness that it made Sanji heat from the inside out. Finally, you made the briefest of eye contact with him and gave him a small nod. “Carry on.”

Then you were turning on your heel and swiftly exiting the galley, leaving Sanji alone with his own thoughts, a half empty laundry basket, and a roaring flame of shame and guilt that Sanji didn’t think could ever be doused.

[pencilofawesomeness]

HTRYDS Headshots Part 3

Team Thunderstorm

I decided to make little icons for my htryds au peeps. Solely for potential meme use. Nevertheless, it was nice to draw the babies. For now, it’s just major FT guild members, but as the AU progresses, or as memes necessitate, I shall add later. (And edit these links.)

Their unofficial color scheme is purple and green, apparently. 

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

[writtenonreceipts]

a prompt?

single parent trope for feysand, pretty please?

more prompts for this would be great, otherwise you get my rambling mind and we all know how that goes...

Find my main masterlist here

#

An Intimate Display of Insecurities and Hopelessness

The air-conditioning was out.  Again.  And Feyre had already stripped down to a tank-top and shorts.  The heat was miserable.  

“Sweet mercy,” she muttered as she stood in front of the large fan she’d bought yesterday to try and keep things cool.  It wasn’t working.

Feyre brushed her hair from her sweaty brow and bit back a curse.  This day was not going at all the way she’d wanted it to.  It had taken her far to long to get anything started, not to mention coordinating with Elain on how she wanted to participate in the shop.

It was only three days to her deadline to get her shop up and running.  Three days to get pallets made, canvases designed, and interior design finished.  All in one-hundred-degree weather and boob sweat.

She turned back to the mess of her shop.  This was going to take more work than she had time for.  Or sanity.

The front door opened behind her with a clatter.  Feyre wasn’t that concerned about it, knowing she was getting some things delivered.

“Just leave the deliveries on the floor,” she said, not looking back.  She was trying to have a vision of what she was going to accomplish, a vision that would be epic and glorious.

“Excuse me?” 

Feyre spun at the smooth voice and nearly stumbled.  The most attractive man she’d ever seen was standing in her shop.  His black pants were crisp and cleanly lined and his black shirt was rolled up to the elbows, displaying his tanned skin.  He was tall, lean, and with his black hair swept neatly back.

Feyre felt sweat roll between her breasts.  Oh hell.

“Feyre Archeron?” He asked and took a step forward while holding out his hand. “Rhysand Avitas.  I’m the new building manager.”

A dozen curses ran through her head as she did her best to wipe her sweaty hand on her shorts inconspicuously.  Because of course she knew who Rhysand Avitas was.  Everyone in their small town did.  He was the son of the police chief and now the youngest elected mayor in Valeris history.

He had also been just a year ahead of Feyre in school.  So she knew the kind of person her was.  At least, she thought she did.

“Rhysand, of course,” she said as she took his hand. The heat didn’t seem to effecting him.  Jackass. “Sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

Indeed, it was half-past two right when she’d told his assistant that he could come by the shop.  And see that everything was in order for her opening deadline.  Except she hadn’t really expected him to show up.  

“Not a problem.” He smiled in such a charming way that Feyre found herself wanting to hate him.

But Feyre already did hate him.  He had bought the building just two days after her father’s death.  Just two days after the building was up for sale.  She hadn’t even had the time to get funds together to convince the bank that she could buy the lease herself.  Now, she was going to have to open her shop under him.

In school he had been captain of the football team, president of the ASB club.  He had been the kind of person Feyre had never wanted to interact with.  High and mighty, proud and cruel.  He’d worn a mask of indifference to anyone beneath him, she was convinced.

Feyre cleared her throat. “Things are a little messy right now, but it’ll be ready for opening day on Monday.”

Rhysand nodded as he walked around the shop.  Bits of wood crunched under his too fancy shoes and dust clung to his pants when he brushed up against one of the pallets that Feyre was still trying to decide how to convert into a display case.

“You’re a painter, correct?” he asked.  He looked over his shoulder at her and Feyre was taken aback by his eyes.  Bright blue—so bright that she could have sworn they were violet.  And damn her if she didn’t want to at least try and draw them.

“Yes,” she replied. “My sister does some gardening and does floral arrangements and I’m planning on having her sell some of her work here as well.”

“I remember,” he said, “Mrs. Ellis always made sure all of her classes knew about her protegee.”

Feyre rolled her eyes.  The high school art teacher had been someone no one really liked.  Aside from her.  Maybe it was just because Feyre had wanted someone to pay attention to her, but the woman had always been nice to Feyre.

“My work wasn’t that good back then,” she said.  And it was true, it had taken years of study and experimentation to get to where she was now.  Ten years after those miserable high school years and here she was, finally maybe a little bit confident with what she could do.

Rhysand said nothing, only observed.  “And you’re sure you’ll be ready by Monday?  No offense Miss Archeron, but it seems like a lot needs to be taken care of.  You assured the bank, and my assistant, that your shop was worth allowing in the complex.”

Feyre’s mouth pursed as she watched his man before her.  With his impeccable clothing, that silver watch on his wrist, it was hard to imagine that he’d had any hardships in his life.

“Yes, and I keep my word,” she said, her voice cold enough to rival any a/c.  “What I would like to know is why the air conditioning still isn’t fixed.  It’s been this way for a week now.”

“It’s being looked into,” Rhysand said. 

His gaze turned sharp as he looked her over again.  Something passed over his face that Feyre didn’t care to try and understand.  She just wanted this man out of her shop so she could get back to work.

“Was there something in specific that you wanted to discuss?” she asked, “or were just interested in questioning my ability to run a shop?”

He smirked at her and shook his head. “You always did have that fire in you, didn’t you?”

Feyre was ready to tell him to get out when a soft cry caught her attention.  She held up a finger to silence him as she listened.  Maybe she’d imagined it.  Hell, she hoped he’d imagined it.  Unfortunately the cry came again.

“Just a minute,” she said.

She hurried to the back of the shop where a door led into what would be used for the breakroom.  It was a few degrees cooler back there, which was why she’d set it up for it’s current use.

Sitting up in the pack-and-play was her daughter.  Seren with her golden hair and large blue eyes looked up at her and cried again.

“Momma!” 

Immediately, Feyre scooped her daughter up.  Seren latched on with a snake-like grip.  Her arms wound around Feyre’s neck tightly.

“Hi baby,” Feyre murmured.  “Why are you awake?”

It had only been a half hour since Feyre’d put her down, she’d been hoping for at least one hour of uninterrupted work.

Seren said nothing and only whimpered into Feyre’s neck.  As Feyre whispered to her daughter to sooth her, she went back out into the main part of the store to find the diaper bag she’d packed that morning.  In one of the insulated pockets, she found a bottle of apple juice.

“Here, honey,” Feyre said.  Seren snatched the bottle and began drinking, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Okay, there we go.  Momma need to talk to Mr. Avitas okay, can you let me do that?”

Seren nodded and the almost two-year-old tucked herself right against Feyre’s neck.

Pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, Feyre turned back to Rhysand who stood right where she’d left him.  The hard look in his eyes was gone and whatever hard-ass talk he was no doubt going to deliver evaporated.

“It seems I was wrong,” Rhysand said, “you do have some help, don’t you?”

Seren wiggled in Feyre’s arms to get a better look at the man, her bottle sticking in one cheek.

“Momma,” Seren said, her voice just slightly muffled.

“Yes, you are my big helper,” Feyre agreed, “even when you get into my paints.”

Seren beamed up at her. “I help.”

Feyre snorted a bit of laughter.  Help.  Sure.  There were some painted handprints on the wall that aid otherwise.

“Did you have any other concerns you needed to address, Mr. Avitas?” Feyre asked.

He seemed so taken aback that Feyre had had her daughter in the back room napping that it took him a moment to speak again.  It would have been amusing if the man hadn’t been so annoying to begin with.

“She looks just like you,” Rhysand said.

That was the last thing Feyre’d expected.  She quirked a brow at the man.  She knew it was true.  Seren, thank the heavens, looked like an Archeron.  There was barely a trace of her father.  Something Feyre would give thanks for every day.

Feyre heart gave a painful squeeze.  Of course that was what he meant.

She met his gaze, holding it for a long moment.  Her hold on Seren tightened automatically, something she always did when she remembered her baby’s father. 

“Yes, she does,” she whispered.  Feyre wondered what Rhysand could possibly know.  When she’d moved back to Valeris two years ago, just after she’d found out she was pregnant, she scrubbed her life clean of that man.  Rhysand couldn’t possibly know who the father was.  Even if he did, he shouldn’t care.

“Right,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. Once again, an un definable look flashed over his features, and disappeared just as quickly.  “I’ll see what I can do about the air-conditioning.”

“Good,” Feyre said, “I’d hate to have to delay opening.”

And much to her surprise, Rhysand laughed.  “Of course not.  That would be rather inconvenient, wouldn’t it?”

He turned back to the door and looked as though he would leave without saying anything else, until he paused. He seemed to be having an internal dilemma when he looked back to Feyre.

“If there is anything I can help with, let me know.”

The words were halting and careful.  Feyre wasn’t sure how to read them, how to respond.  So she only nodded.

#

i wanted to add more to this for the first part, but well here we are...

tags

@aelinchocolatelover // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @emikadreams // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @highladysith // @fangirlprincess09 // @rowaelinismyotp // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @cassianscool // @stardelia // @my-fan-side // @sjmships // @tillyrubes10 // @acourtofsjmtrash // @hellasblessed // @rhysandswhore  //  @story-scribbler  // @post-it-notes33 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @strangevil321 // @whythefuckdoiexist // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @lemonade-coolattas @foreverfallingforthestars // @surielandiareendgame // @feysand-loml

[expectingtofly]

I was just stuck in traffic for an hour and a half (without reception to boot) so what better way to use my involuntary free time than to write a fic with dean, cas, and toddler jack in the same situation?

In hindsight, it made sense that in a life where nothing ever went to plan, an attempt at a relaxing Winchester beach vacation turned into an adventure called how long can you sit in traffic without losing your goddamn mind?

Slumping in his seat, Dean stared mournfully at the line of cars which seemed to stretch for miles into the distance. For an hour now they had sat on the freeway at a standstill, inching forward at odd intervals. Dean had turned Baby off fifteen minutes ago when even those slow forward crawls ceased.

Jack hummed in the backseat where he colored with a box of crayons. Cas tapped his fingers on his thighs, craning his neck to look behind and in front of them. No escape. Dean was pretty sure he was considering the merits of zapping all of them—car, luggage, and all—to their destination. Sure, the people around them would have plenty of questions about a car vanishing into thin air and Cas would be exhausted for three days, but it might be worth it.

Might save their sanity, at least. So far, they had cycled through staticky radio stations, played twenty questions three times over, eaten two cans of Pringles, argued about potential detours, and listened to several renditions of “Born This Way” sung at increasingly piercing high volume courtesy of the six year old in the backseat.

In all that time, they had moved forward about ten feet and Dean was starting to entertain thoughts about abandoning Baby on the asphalt and walking back home.

“I won’t abandon you,” he reassured her, stroking the steering wheel.

“What?” Cas asked.

“Uh. Nothing.” So now he was talking to inanimate objects. Great.

“Let’s play eye spy,” Cas suggested.

Dean gestured around them. Trees, weeds, parked cars, and the highway divider. “Not much to look at.”

“How about that game where you name an item for every letter of the alphabet? We can do celestial objects.”

“That’s not fair, you know all of them.”

“Well, we already did rock bands and you won that too easily.”

“Dad,” Jack complained. “I’m out of yellow.”

“It’s probably back there,” Cas said. “Maybe you dropped it.”

“There better not be a crayon melting back there.” Dean twisted around in his seat to check.

Jack sighed and threw down his crayons dramatically. “I’m hungry.”

Cas fished around in the snack bag. “I think we have some carrots left.”

“Hey, kid, this is pretty good.” Dean went to pick up the crayon drawing, but Jack threw his upper body over the paper.

“No! It’s not finished!”

“Alright, sorry. I’ll wait for the final product. Lookin’ good so far.”

“I’m drawing us,” Jack told him, reaching for another crayon while keeping a hand shielding the drawing.

“Remember I’m taller than him,” Dean said, nodding at Cas. Cas gave him a dirty look. “Just for accuracy.”

“My true form greatly towers over your human body,” Cas said haughtily.

“Aww, Cas, you tryin’ to flirt?”

Rolling his eyes, Cas handed back the bag of carrots to Jack. The mess in the backseat of papers and crayons—though stressful—gave Dean an idea.

“Hey, Jack, hand me some paper.” He took two papers and told Cas, “I’ll draw you and you draw me.”

Cas took a paper with a gleam in his eyes. “What does the winner get?”

“Whaddya mean winner? This is supposed to be just a fun thing.” That was a lie. They could, and did, turn everything into a competition. “Worst drawing has to pay for snacks at the next stop.”

“Easy,” Cas said, taking a green crayon from the box. “I could draw your every freckle from memory.”

“Stare enough to know what I look like,” Dean muttered, feeling his ears heat. He caught Cas reaching for the red crayon. “Hey!” Of course the fucker would draw him blushing.

Giving him a sly smile, Cas tucked himself against the opposite door to shield his drawing from him. “Just going for accuracy,”

“I wanna play too!” Jack said.

“Alright, best drawing from all three of us. Hope you brought your credit card, Jack.”

“Nope, ‘cause I’m gonna win!”

“No, you’re both going down.” Dean snatched up a stubby green crayon. “Go!”

Despite the lack of a time limit, furious scribbling followed. Dean liked to think he was a decent drawer, but using crayons—most of which were broken—sure made it difficult.

He set Cas in a sunny field with a fluffy cloud sky. Without yellow, the sun had to be green, but he thought the purple trenchcoat and blue tie he drew for Cas turned out pretty good. Add a few flowers, maybe a tree—fuck, that didn’t turn out so good. The important part was Cas, though. For good measure, he added some wings colored with every crayon in the box and an angel blade that he couldn’t get to look sharp enough with the blunt silver crayon, but gave the general idea.

Holding the drawing up, he couldn’t help smiling at it. It was Cas, alright. Down to the blue eyes, half smile, and sensible shoes.

“Done!” Jack announced.

“One second,” Cas said, eyebrows drawn up in concentration. After a few careful lines, he said, “Okay.” He clutched his drawing to his chest. “On the count of three.”

“One, two, three—” Dean flipped his drawing around at the same time as Cas and Jack.

And instantly burst out laughing.

“What?” Cas asked, offended.

“Dude.” Wiping tears from his eyes, Dean took the drawing from him. A stick figure man with a scribble of brown hair, lopsided green eyes, and dots which he guessed were his freckles. “I haven’t been this skinny in years. Wait a moment.” He frowned at the stick legs. “You gave me freaking bow legs?”

“Dean, this is…” Dean looked up to see Cas holding the drawing of himself. “This is really lovely.” He traced the wings. “It’s like you can see them.”

“Shit, it’s not that good.” Fucking hell, he was blushing again.

“Look at mine!” Jack said, waving his paper.

“Woah, kid, you outdid yourself,” Dean said, taking it from him. Three stick figures, each a bit taller than the next. Two with wings, one in a blocky shirt which looked suspiciously like flannel.

“Buddy, this is great.” He pointed at Cas’ figure, turning the paper so Cas could see. “Looks like he got your true form.” Animals and swirls, colors and shapes.

“That’s beautiful, Jack.” Cas pointed to the smallest stick figure with the biggest wings and smile. “I love how you drew yourself.”

“Do I win?” Jack asked.

Dean handed the drawings back. “Take a look at all of them, be our judge.”

Jack studied the three drawings seriously for several long seconds before announcing with a cheeky smile, “I win!”

“Seems rigged but okay,” Dean said.

Cas elbowed him. “You can pick out any snack you want when we find a place to stop,” he told Jack. A dangerous idea, but they might not even make it there. Their drawings would soon be outdated when they turned old and grey in their seats.

Bracing himself for the worst, Dean checked the line of cars again and was surprised to see movement up ahead.

“Hey!” He turned the car on. “Here we go, Baby, back on the road again!”

“Finally,” Cas sighed. Bouncing in his car seat, Jack cheered.

The line of cars thinned out as they picked up speed, finally making progress after… Dean checked the time. Two hours. At least the last hour had passed quickly with their drawing competition.

“I’m going to frame these,” Cas said, tucking the drawings into his bag. “I think they’d look nice in the living room.”

“Daddy?” Jack spoke up.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Cas asked, looking back at him.

Jack giggled and Dean smiled at him in the rearview mirror. Then Jack announced, “I have to pee.”

Dean stared at the road. Of course.

“Can you wait?” Cas asked, checking the GPS. "The next stop is… twenty minutes away.”

“I have to go now!”

Cas looked at Dean, and Dean sighed. “I’ll stop.” Turning on his turn signal to move into the shoulder, he told Jack, “Time to pee in the bushes, kiddo.”

Jack cheered and Dean shook his head, a laugh escaping him despite himself. Always an adventure.

[yanderenightmare]

ooooooooooohhhhhhh bully!bakugo pleaseeeeee feed me! like I don't know if you do underage things like school, but you can keep it sfw

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: abuse, anxiety, bullying, paranoia, NONCON elements, stalking, manipulation, profanity, anger issues, arson mentions, trauma

TIP-JAR

PART TWO

IN CASE OF FIRE: PUSH ALARM

In many ways, Bakugo was her morning alarm clock.

A shrill shriek of a sound she wanted nothing more but to ignore and rake at her ears until she grew deaf. An impact, taking a toll on her whole day. Something to regret. And something to dread the next morning.

Something that follows her, haunts her, hunts her in the hours she’s without it and blares like sirens or howls from some great monster when it’s caught her.

Alarm clocks can’t push her to the ground though, that’s where Bakugo deviates.

And he’s always pushing. Toppling her books with a flick of his wrist. Pushing and squeezing and pulling at her like a rag doll. Pushing her into the wall. Pushing screams to come bursting from her lungs. Pushing tears to well up in her eyes. Pushing her sanity.

And now, pushing his knee in between the space of her thighs. Grinding her up against the wall in the barren hall of an empty school. Pushing and digging callous fingers into her thin uniform. Messaging the tender ticklish flesh of her midriff and keeping her in place. Pushing and seizing her breaths with his wicked grin. Teeth sharp and deadly and way too close to her neck.

“Let go!” She screamed. And the echo that reverberated throughout the hallway should have sent every packed classroom to flood the tight space.

But it was a field-day, which meant no classes and everyone outside enjoying the sun.

Except for her and Bakugo.

Cocking his chin in impish humour. He grinned too widely for it to be excused for mere casual bullying.

“Or what?” He coaxed. His breath fanning over cheeks. Wafting into her nose, making her entire face contort. “You’ll tell on me?”

He manipulated his voice to sound childish and whiny. Pouting at her. Yet the sheer maroon look of sadistic thrill was hard to put any mask over.

“Ha? You think this school is gonna give two shits worth a damn about some fucking nerd like you over their top student?”

He was too wrapped up in his frenzy to pay the weak fists banging on his chest any mind. Barely even registering them before they relented. Turning soft and careful, defeated upon his words, as they dragged sloppily down his stomach. Stopping where he’d hiked her skirt up around her hips.

She looked down. The realisation of her situation settling.

Not settling like an explosion, but like dust after the fact. Just like it did every time Bakugo trapped her in a corner.

She didn’t know why she even bothered fighting anymore, knowing how she always gives up.

Her breath hitched and hiccupping as she forced herself to bargain with her bully.

“What do you want, Bakugou?” It was more of a sniffle than a sentence. Meek and feeble and delicious.

But it was wrong in its essence.

“Katsuki.” He growled. His nose touching hers briefly, making her screw her eyes shut in pure crippling fear.

Another thing an alarm clock couldn’t. Come to think of it, perhaps he was rather the sound of bones breaking, or clothes tearing. His laughter like gunshots, and every move he made an explosion that left the ears bleeding and ringing.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you for you to get it through your thick skull. It’s Katsuki.”

His grip on her waist tightened. And she was sure his claws would rip yet another one of her thin white shirts.

The disgusting instruction left her baffled each time. How he would force her to call him by his given name as though they were good friends as opposed to predator and prey.

“Say it.”

His features were blank in expectancy. Cold despite his fingertips warming.

“Come on! Fucking say it!” Spit flew as he barked his command as he pushed her just a smidge further into the wall.

Her whole body shook. Kept in place by the hold he had on her, but still trembling violently like a leaf caught in a storm.

“Katsuki...”

It was barely audible, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was rather overcome with satisfaction instead.

“Good.” He seemed subdued.

Calming down as his fingers relented their building fire. Cooling yet nowhere near comfortable.

“Good girl.”

It was close to a purr of some sorts and it made her stomach fold and topple in on itself, as he stroked a stray curl from out of her face. The action only resulting in even more locks of hair falling before her eyes as she shook her head as a means to swat his hand away. Where her own hands were too busy in their position on his chest, in a means to keep him at bay. But it was of little use as his face closed in on hers.

Leaning, towering, suffocating.

“Baku-”

Fear of what it looked as though he was about to do crippled the notion of it being ridiculous. But the protest was weak, even as her nails dug into the hardness of his chest.

Her voice overpowered by his, despite it being only a ragged whisper.

“Kiss me.”

Her suspicions where answered, but it only aided in her dread.

“Ba-”

She shifted her head to the side to avoid him. Panic consuming her.

But his large encompassing hand was quick in finding her cheek. Cupping it in its callous palm and forcing her to face him yet again.

“Are you deaf? I said kiss me!” He roared. The sound once again blaring like thunder from the gods in her ears.

However, despite his lips coming to attack her and the threat of his sharp fangs that could easily bruise her, she continued to push at him. Trying to pry him off her and run like the prey he had made it clear that she was.

“No.”

It surprised him to say the least.

Small, weak protests he could brush of with a shrug was nothing he wasn’t used to, but firm acts of retaliation was new.

Granted, he’d never tried kissing her. Always settling for feeling her ample supple flesh in his hands and seeing that sweet look on her face. Feeling his pants grow tight and jacking of in the school showers when no one was there to see him in the downright pathetic state.

“No?”

His brow quirked. His mouth a firm line until it once again sprung into his signature smirk.

“How about this? Kiss me and I’ll stop.”

Her eyes softened at that. Growing large. And he swore he could see her ears draw back.

There was no doubt she was surprised, intrigued, tempted.

“That’s right.” He drawled.

His thumb rubbed across her bottom lip and she was too consumed by his offer to mind.

“I’ll stop following you around, pushing you, calling you names. I’ll stop it all.”

He drew closer, to her ear. Lips ghosting her temple. Relishing the moment when he felt her shiver because of it.

“And all I ask in return is a little kiss.”

Pulling away, he looked content at first, but soon his features turned malicious once again.

“But... if you refuse... I’ll tell everyone about what a little slut you are. About how you love sucking my cock like a good little cumdumpster.”

She looked horrified at that. Her tears finally spilling over.

“But I-” She stuttered but he paid her no mind.

Already knowing whatever she was about to say.

“Who’s gonna believe you? It’s my word against yours. What are people gonna think? Huh? You think you’ll have any friends left after I run that rumour? Nah... you’ll have no one... and by that time, you’re gonna be begging me to kiss you.” His voice was frenzied.

And it must have purely because he was so lost in that craze, that he didn’t notice her leg coming to kick him in the groin.

She was thoroughly disgusted. Mostly with him, but also with herself to even having considered demeaning herself like that.

“Fuck you.”

His hold relented at the assault. And despite it being a mere temporary act, one he soon recovered from, it was enough for her to start sprinting.

“Fuck me?” He had to laugh.

And she was right. The noise really did sound like gunshots being fired at her as she ran for her life.

“That’s what the whole school’s gonna think you did come tomorrow!”

Falling onto the floor. His arms and legs spread like a starfish he couldn’t stop cackling, as though mad. Excited and thrilled, even with the stinging pain still spurring in his ball-sack. Heck, maybe even because of it.

This was fun. This was very fun.

His voice mellowed down.

“I’m gonna get you… one way or the other…”

Good thing he knows where she lives.

Good thing she didn’t live too far away.

Good thing she hadn’t kissed him.

Good thing he wasn’t forced to become a liar when continuing to force her to do as he wished.

Good thing there was plenty of broom-closets in the school.

Good thing she couldn’t do shit to stop him.

TIP-JAR

PART TWO

[pappydaddy]

Nurse Simon (s.k)

A/N: I had absolutely no idea what to name this. This is just a quick fic I wrote up for Simon to kick off my Fear Street Masterlist so it's not very long, just a little blurb. I wrote this all last night at one o'clock in the morning because I couldn't sleep with my mouthguard in (I had to get it because I chew the inside of my cheeks and lip in my sleep when I'm anxious) and I just rolled with it. Anywho, I hope you lovelies enjoy this very random Simon fic💛!

TV Show/Movie: Fear Street: 1994

Pairing: Simon Kalivoda x Fem!Reader

Not Requested

Simon Kalivoda Taglist: @maybe-alistair

Warnings: Anxiety is mentioned, anxious tick is also mentioned (chewing the inside of your mouth). Not proofread, I'm going to read through all my fics so I will edit this better then.

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -

Laying in bed, Y/N groaned, flipping over dramatically as she pleaded with her brain to shut up. Mouthing the uncomfortable mouthguard around in her mouth, she cursed her brain for making her this way. “Stupid Anxiety.” Her words were altered by the lisp the mouth guard gave her as she flopped onto her back once again, staring blankly up at the ceiling as the silver moonlight flowed against it.

She was still not used to having to wear the mouthguard her doctor instructed her to get after their last appointment. To make things worse, it was a random unopened mouth guard found at the bottom of her brother’s duffle bag. So there was no way of knowing the true cleanliness of the plastic guard (even though she boiled it three times just to be safe). Letting out yet another annoyed groan, Y/N forced her eyes shut, trying to manually shut her brain off so she could get at least a few hours of sleep before school tomorrow.

Just as her brain began to slow down, the unexpected draft suddenly invading her room kickstarted her brain right into overdrive. She froze, trying to figure out if the sheer exhaustion she was battling the past few weeks had finally gotten to her - causing her to hallucinate - or if there was actually a murderer climbing through her window right then and there. Both were possibilities in Shadyside.

The stumble of feet tripping over her knocked-over cardboard cutout of Nick Lachey made her blood run cold, but in a moment of sheer stupidity, Y/N shot straight up in her bed, flicking on her lamp to uncover her murderer. Stunned, she sat there blinking at her boyfriend as he blinked back at her, for some reason scared that he had been caught sneaking into her bedroom at three in the morning.

“What the fuck, Simon,” She exclaimed, her mouth guard making her talk with a lisp. She didn’t realize it was still in, instead, proceeding to grab her pillow from behind her and hurl it at her boyfriend. “You can’t do that shit in Shadyside, I thought you were a murderer.” She wished she hadn’t thrown her pillow at him since she had a strong desire right then to smack him repeatedly with it, but at the same time, she didn’t want to throw both her pillows.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, holding one hand in the air as he bent down to grab her pillow from by his feet. “Sheesh woman, you have good aim,” He muttered, rubbing his nose after being hit square in the face by her uncomfortably hard pillow. “How do you even sleep on these things? When I sleepover, I just use my folded-up t-shirt, it’s softer than this shit.” He asked, tossing the pillow to its rightful place at the head of her bed.

“Well I’m sorry that with all the great technology of the 90s, we as a human race have failed to figure out the perfect pillow formula, Simon,” She grunted sarcastically, still forgetting about the mouth guard. “Now why are you here,” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, inadvertently drawing her sex-crazed, always horny boyfriend’s attention to her boobs. “Simon!”

“Huh, what?” He snapped out of it before looking at her face, jumping back with a small scream.

“What?” She asked, looking behind her for whatever scared him, but there was nothing. Looking back at him, she saw the same look of terror on his face, his shaking finger pointed right at her.

“Don’t freak out babe, but there is something in your mouth,” He whispered, stepping hesitantly towards her bed, too scared to get close to it. “It’s all over your teeth and a tail thing is sticking out of it.” He pulled his top lip up, pointing to his top teeth before swooping it to indicate a tail.

Y/N rolled her eyes, pulling the mouth guard from her mouth, a string of saliva following it. She cringed, thankful their relationship was not new or that would have been mortifying. Simon had always been comfortable around her. At first, Y/N was more careful about what she did in front of him, not being her full self out of fear of him leaving, but being in a relationship with a person for over six months changes that. “It’s my mouth guard, you Baboon.” She told him, reaching over to place it in its case.

“Why do you need a mouth guard, scared of getting tackled in your sleep?” He asked, crawling onto her bed, flipping unceremoniously into the spot next to her, winching when he landed on the hard pillow.

“No, it’s so that I stop chewing the inside of my cheek when I’m anxious.” She barked, grumpy.

“Sheesh, someone’s a little grumpy.” Simon sucked in a breath, looking at her with gleaming eyes. She glared down at him, not wanting to admit that the wide, sparkling blue eyes he was giving her broke through her grumpiness instantly.

“No shit, I was just about to fall asleep when you came falling through my window, scaring me half to death and now you won’t stop talking,” She ranted, pointing at the still open window. “And you didn’t even have half the decency to close the window after you.”

He rolled off the bed, walking over to shut and lock the window. “Well, let’s go to bed together. Might help you sleep, then we can sleep in tomorrow morning.” He suggested, picking up the cardboard cutout, standing it in the corner of the room next to her extensive Cassette and CD collection.

“We have school in the morning.” She reminded him, not looking up from where she was fixing her bedsheets from him messing them up when he rolled out of the bed.

“You’re such a nerd that you want to go to school on Thanksgiving?” Simon asked jokingly, knowing full well that her exhausted brain completely forgot what day it was tomorrow (or today since it was the morning already).

“Shit-“

“It’s all right, I have the day off so I’ll nurse you back to sanity, babe.” He pretended he was doing her a great justice as he flopped back down beside her, pulling her down with him, pressing her back flush against his front.

“That’s not an overly comforting thought,” She grumbled, but he simply shushed her, petting her hair. “Fine,” She gave up, accepting it. “But the only reason I am not chewing you out for making me think I was gonna get murdered is the fact that I am too tired to argue.” Her words slowly became slower and more slurred as being wrapped in Simon’s arms made her feel protected and less anxious, basically shutting her brain off with the feeling of his touch.

Mustering up enough strength to battle against the sudden wave of sleepiness, she reached to turn her lamp off, bathing them in darkness that only the silver moonbeams broke up. Seconds later, her eyelids drooped, cutting out all light. “I love you, Simon.” She breathed out, forgetting her mouthguard.

“I love you too, babe,” He responded. She could feel him reaching over her to her nightstand, but she was too tired to care. “I love you so much that I can’t let you forget your terrifying mouthguard.” He whispered, thinking she was asleep. Gently, he managed to wiggle the mouthguard into her mouth before settling back down behind her pulling her farther into him, snuggling his face into the back of her neck affectionately.

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

[inkdemonapologist]

[BatIM Call of Cthulhu Masterpost]

REMEMBER BACK WHEN WE GOT INVITED TO A MASQUERADE??? And we figured out the masquerade guests are definitely the sacrifice meant to summon their eldritch deity and that the party will probably be the location of the final ritual? ANYWAY WE’RE CRASHING THE PARTY, which means we need costumes.

The party is Alice in Wonderland themed; Sammy hasn’t read the book but got kin-assigned the March Hare by Joey, so naturally i’ve been doing nothing but drawing this loser in a dapper rabbit costume for an entire week

---

Anyway have a little smattering of out-of-context quotes from session 11

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] Sammy just has no magical powers. [Jack] YET. [Sammy] Yet. Correct. ...He doesn't want any. [GM] Half of him doesn't want any. [Sammy] That's... accurate, yeah. Half of him ALSO wants the OTHER half of him to stop having magical powers. [Jack] No Magical Girl transformation? [GM] *laughing* Is that what that is? [Jack] I'd watch a magical anime where the main character drugs themself and then becomes a weird... religious... madman! [Sammy] That does sound compelling! Maybe you should see if you can find a franchise that contains that element, and then become a big fan of it and draw a bunch of fanart for some reason. [Jack] Yeah, I dunno, I mean... it's so tiring getting into new media, I need to get a friend who will drag me into it. [Henry] And then you guys can start a roleplaying game with it and drag me into it! [GM] There's an idea! [Jack] Yeah! Someone should get on that! [GM] And if there was such a theoretical game... people might have to figure... what they're doing when they wake up!

[Sammy] We were put in a situation before where we were told that the only thing we could do was kill the host, but we found a way around it last time, [Peter] What way was that? [Sammy] Complicated.

[GM] Henry is the first to notice the apparent cultist, camping out, looking tired, trying to spot you guys. [Henry] Uh, Henry is just going to tap Sammy on the arm and point him out. [Jack] Bros! You've got to unionise! Look at these working conditions! [GM] Maybe one of these days you won't spot them, right? Hope springs eternal!

[GM] Okay, you can make an intimidate! [Sammy] Okay! *rolls* FIFTEEN IS -- this is the only thing Sammy's good at now -- fifteen is a hard success!

[Jack] I'm proud of him! [Sammy] Someone has to be.

[GM] Allison chats with everyone, and gets you into the costume room! Everyone seems relatively friendly! [Sammy] Except Sammy. Sammy doesn't seem friendly.

[Joey] My idea was, Joey would be Mad Hatter -- [Sammy] Because he needs a hat, [Joey] --Yeah, so he can have a hat -- I was thinking Sammy could be the March Hare, Jack could be White Rabbit, and then Henry could be the Dormouse, [Sammy] Yes! And then the Haiti boys are all the Mad Teaparty, which is great, because the Mad Teaparty is canonically trapped in a time loop. [Sammy] Because we tHOUGHT ABOUT THIS TOO MUCH,

[Jack] Kin-assign Pete! [GM] He's content to wear anything that looks like it fits him, as long as people aren't trying to push a co-ordinated effort. [Joey] (Pete can be Caterpillar,) [Jack] Catter-pete-lar [Sammy] Oh my goodness. Completely unnecessary. [Jack] This is a pun that Jack might make, out loud, to Pete [GM] Pete laughs, despite himself! [Sammy] I feel like, Jack would make this pun, and then Jack would be SO pleased with himself that Pete would laugh, because Jack was so happy about it. [Jack] Yeah that sounds canon. ....It IS canon!!

[Jack] You can like, actually pretend to be people who decided to come to this party to enjoy it, and not just steal and/or murder!

[Henry] I want someone on the help, because I feel like we would have more control if we had someone on the inside, [Henry] And Henry does have a very forgettable face, apparently!!

[Joey] What are the staff wearing? Target red shirt, khaki pants? [Sammy] Perfect! Everyone will fall for it! Based on my experience wearing red shirts into Target!

[GM] I guess this does mean Joey misses an opportunity to dress up Henry. [Joey] *excited gasp* Wait, wait, [GM] What? [Joey] Sorry, this has nothing to do with anything that's happening right now in the roleplay, but I just suddenly realised that (1) when Henry got married, was Joey his best man, and (2) did Joey get to pick out his tuxedo for him [Henry] UHHHH... I feel like, Henry usually defaults to Joey for outfits and stuff, but he would hesitate a bit to ask his best friend who has an obvious crush on him to help dress for his heteronormative wedding!

[Joey] There probably is at least one of the wedding photos where Joey is insistent on standing very next to Henry -- while Henry's next to Linda! -- but, [GM] ...but also, Joey is here, [Joey] But also Joey is here. [Sammy] ...absolute disaster of a man... [GM] But the tuxedos look good! [Joey] Yes. Henry was properly fitted.

[Sammy] I don't want a full-- I don't want a freakin' fursuit, because-- [Henry] (FNAF in the distance)

[Sammy] But I feel like, since both White Rabbit and March Hare are, like, dapper rabbits, they could do something like, yeah, splicer mask and also a hat. [Jack] I mean, Jack's not opposed; Jack likes hats. [Sammy] Jack absolutely should have a hat, I agree. [Jack] He's getting so many hats! So many hats, and so many boyfriends, [GM] He can't be stopped! [Jack] >:3c He shouldn't be stopped.

[GM] I'm still just stuck on the phrase "Dapper Rabbits."

[GM] If Joey and Allison are talking further away, I guess it's moot. Though Allison did see Prophet Sammy! He changed in her room. [Sammy] Well, nobody explained him to her. Sammy just showed up the next day and hoped that we wouldn't talk about it, and then we didn't! It was great. [Jack] Sammy's over here, hoping that Allison is distracted by Joey so that none of this conversation is being listened to, [Jack] MEANWHILE, smash cut to the other side of the room, where Joey is explaining SillySam,

[Joey] A lot of Joey's lack of giving information was to keep her out of it, and not paint a target on her back... but now? She has a target on her back, so... Sure! You can also sacrifice yourself, for the greater good!

[Sammy] I'm sure someone in this party will thank Allison. It won't be me. But I'm sure someone will.

[Henry] Henry's already smearing his blood on people, he's gonna agree to whatever at this point.

[Sammy] DEFINITELY not a cult, now hold still while we put this guy's weird glowing blood on you, it's fine. [Jack] Welcome to the flock!

[GM] What does this mean for Prophet Sammy's sacrificeability rating on Henry, though? Now he's potentially long-term useful... [Sammy] I mean... [Jack] The Prophet isn't here so he doesn't need to know about this! [Sammy] ...I feel like, if something has greater value, then it's an even more impressive sacrifice. That's why you sacrifice an unblemished sheep, traditionally. If it's not a blemish-- [Sammy] Like, that's most of what he was worried about, like, “does this make you not fit for sacrifice.” But if it's actually a really cool thing, ...!

[Sammy] Sammy's nervous. [Jack] Jack is also nervous. [Henry] Henry is also nervous! [Jack] Oh, that's always a good sign, [Joey] Joey's going to be confident! [Henry] ...Of course he is. [Joey] Someone has to be! [Jack]...is he "Confident" or "Confident (Fast Talk)"? [Joey] YES. That last one. [Sammy] *muttering* That's the best we got, unfortunately.

[Sammy] If Jack or Henry express nervousness, Sammy agrees with them. If Pete is nervous, then Sammy will very aggressively say that Joey knows what he's doing.

[Sammy] Allison, don't use a spell to bind people's souls together in order to avoid crunch,,, [GM] You never know when something might be handy! [Sammy] I mean, [GM] Waste not want not!

[Henry] Does Henry have to draw in blood on himself...? [GM] No, Henry has a lot of his own blood on his person.

[GM] Aw, man, Bendy should've commented on the rabbit outfits! I'm sure he'd find that hilarious. [Joey] ...why...? [GM] WHY? It's just objectively funny! No additional reason is needed!!

[Joey] Joey will go through his notes, and confer with Henry and Bendy on, okay, shall we try this, and see if we can help Bendy as well? [Henry] Henry is down to try! [GM] Bendy is worried about Henry overexerting himself. [Henry] ...Henry is down to try!

[Jack] Worst case, Jack looks at the symbol, and then he can be seeing-eye rabbit for the rest of the group!

[GM] Norman wonders what the plan is! [Henry] Bold of you to assume,

[Sammy] We're having such a good sleepover! We did a weird blood ritual, and we're braiding each other's hair~ [Joey] Having a fashion show, [Sammy] Yeah! We went out and got clothes, [Jack] Can't believe Joey called a boy, [Sammy] Gotta ask Joey about the boy he likes... wait, no, don't do that. [Jack] I'd say it's time to play seven minutes in heaven, but I think we, we did that early. [Sammy] WE DIDN'T DO A VERY GOOD JOB,

[GM] Norman wants to see how this plays out. [Joey] Okay, well, try not to get sacrificed, then, [GM] He laughs, and thanks you for the advice! [Sammy] *Hypnos Hadesgame voice* "Try not to get sacrificed, okay?"

[Henry] Allison is very helpful, and not weird at all!

[Joey] We already have the banjo case full of ritual circles, and Joey would rather have the emergency circles than Sammy carrying around bOTTLES OF INK. [Sammy] WHY, WHY WOULDN'T YOU WANT THAT TO BE HAPPENING? WHAT WOULD BE THE PROBLEM WITH THAT,

[GM] Make a sanity check! [Jack] Wait, what's happening? [Sammy] Joey was trying to think too hard.

[GM] Sammy does manage to catch that there's a little-- next to the kitchen, when you go into the place where they're serving food, there's a sign that says "Sheep Shop" over it. And there's a person wearing a sheep mask, handing out food. [Sammy] OKAY, THAT'S FINE,,, I don't feel like Sammy has actually read Through The Looking Glass, so I don't know if he knows why this is happening. I think he's just concerned. [GM] Excellent. Ideal response.

[GM] And Joey has NEVER seen the symbol EVER because he's incredible at not looking at creepy symbols! Which you wouldn't expect. [Sammy] I'm sure Joey will put this in his autobiography.

[Jack] :/ No Hashtag Gay Rights at this party,

[GM] Seems to be another party-goer; in fact, you recognise the voice! [Joey] Ohhh. Kyle -- I don't know his actual name, but -- [Sammy] (Dennis!) [GM] (Yes, that's-) [Joey] -- Kyle.

[Henry] Henry is going to try to sneak up on Moonlight while he's distracted! [GM] OH! ...Okay! He's very distracted, Sammy just screamed! [excited noises from everyone beCAUSE NO ONE EXPECTED THIS] [GM] You successfully sneak up behind him! [Henry] I'm going to grab the staff! [GM] Make a Brawl check, with advantage! [Sammy] (He has SO many limbs that don't work my dude, you got this,) [Henry] That's a success! [GM] You snatch it! [Henry] I RUN!!!

[Joey] We're just both escorting Jack, now. [Sammy] Would you say Jack is late, for a very important date? [Jack] Well YEAH, his Face Removal was scheduled like 2 dreams ago!!

[GM] He'd have to roll for it, to see if it felt familiar to his trip to Carcosa. [Jack] Extreme success! [GM] Then he would pick up that familiar feeling! [Jack] Oh, nice and homey at this party! Really nice. Nostalgic! It's been a while. [Sammy] Hm, [Jack] Maybe he should go play the piano, for old time's sake! [Sammy] NO

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Five]

Series Masterlist

Summary: Poe and the reader eagerly focus on their friendship. Unfortunately for them, life isn’t that easy.

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut, violence, injuries. WC: 11.1K

A/N: Please enjoy this failed attempt at fluff. Also, thank you to @hoeforthefictional for inspiring a scene in this chapter (see: Charlie’s shirts)

Your hand smacked against the cool steel of the dining table as you snorted, “That is not true!” You exclaimed, watching Poe run his hand over his mouth to try and hide his smile, though you could still see him shaking with laughter. “Poe that was Charlie, it was NOT me!”

“Sure Sweetheart,” He drawled through his chuckles, quirking a brow at you, “Charlie convinced your dad that we could all be trusted on our own for the weekend. ‘Cause, he was the one with the big sad eyes your dad fell for every time.”

You groaned, knowing Poe was right, your giggles confirming it to him even though you didn’t outright admit it. “Well you were the one who suggested we try to nab some booze at Eddard’s,” You pointed at him accusingly as memories of you, Charlie and Poe as preteens trying to break into a closed cantina to steal spotchka replayed in your mind. “I was the only one the old man didn’t hit.”

“My ass smarted for a week after that,” Poe frowned at the memory and you giggled again. He grinned over at you, and you felt a flush of delight at the early morning banter, each of you sipping your caf as the golden sun streamed in through the high windows and the room steadily grew busier around you.

It had been a few weeks since your return from the classified mission, the data collected on the outpost proving to be immeasurably useful, earning you both a very pleased smile from the General. A larger secondary team was already there; though they were outfitted with greater protective equipment and a lot more manpower to clear back some of the overgrown jungle from the base and work to bring it back up and running.

While it was a severe break in protocol, neither you nor Poe included the exposure to the red flower pollen in your mission reports. You described the sighting of the plant, cautioned approached and advised the settlement team to wear protective gear, but that was all. Though a mild amount of guilt settled in your stomach for the breach, the idea of writing down what had happened, of being hauled for questioning and medically assessed, was more than enough to make you feel it was the right decision.

It had taken three days to return to base from the mission. Even after your long conversation with Poe assuring him you were alright and that you didn’t blame him for what happened, he still walked around you like he was afraid any moment you would crack and reveal your anger or mistrust. He’d pointedly refused to touch you or come too close after the initial embrace you shared, and although you disagreed with his reasoning, you couldn’t help the relief that you felt because something about being close to him, touching him, stirred feelings inside you that you didn’t want to address.

It made it easier to focus on repairing your friendship if you maintained a slight distance from the man you’d known your entire life. Better to set aside any feelings or thoughts and work to find your way back to the version of yourself you missed. The one who had been happy. You wanted to be her again because the lonely woman you’d become was less than ideal. And you had missed Poe more than you’d admit.

You just wished you could stop the dreams.

“You know,” You spoke slowly, your eyes losing focus as you thought back to those younger years, “I’m pretty sure that was the weekend I became obsessed with learning about Mandalore. I saw that picture of the really famous one up in the cantina and wanted to know everything about it all.” You shook your head at your youthful silliness, the crush you’d developed for the faceless bounty hunter simply from hearing the tales of his heroics. You’d even had a-

“Remember the picture you had?” Poe cut into your thoughts and you refocused on him, “You had that up for years, on the back of your door, a street artist's painting of the rogue Mandolorian, Charlie teased you all the time for having it.” He was smiling at the memory, his eyes crinkling slightly.

You stared at Poe in surprise as warmth swept through you. “You remember that?” He shrugged, his eyes flicking away to glance at the table as if he was suddenly self-conscious, surprised at himself.

“Yeah, I...” You watched as he appeared to steal himself, his cheeks dusted with colour. “I remember everything. It was always us three, wasn’t it? I’d never forget Charlie or y-you.”

When he looked up again his eyes were burning with bright intensity. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, even as your heartbeat tripled and emotion swelled inside you. Everything else-the noise of the caf, the sounds of others laughter and conversations-it all faded into the background as Poe and you regarded one another across the table.

A hand coming down onto your shoulder jolted you from your thoughts. You glanced up to find Temmin grinning at you both as he moved to take a seat next to you. “Morning, morning,” He glanced over mischievously at Poe, then back to you, “Sorry to interrupt your eye-fuck session, just wondering if you saw our surveillance got moved up?”

Poe was quicker to recover, pulling Temmin’s attention from you as heat flooded your face and you gaped wordlessly. “Uh, to now, I’m assuming?” Poe spared you a glance, his eyes unreadable as you swallowed, embarrassed at your reaction.

You’d anticipated those close to you or Poe to tease you both about the renewed friendship, entirely unsurprised that Temmin was the leading comedian about the entire thing. He’d happily jumped on any excuse to tease, but even though you were never one to flinch away from adult banter, the occasional sexually suggestive comments brought you straight back to the memories from your mission and rendered you speechless each time.

Pursing your lips, you took the last sip of your caf and stood up, your hands automatically sweeping down the front of your flight suit to straighten any wrinkles. You tried to give a half-hearted smile, hoping Temmin didn’t start to think you had a shitty sense of humour.

“I’m going to get started on pre-flight, in that case.”

You glanced at Poe and found he was already watching you, his lips quirking up in a way that made your insides bubble confusingly. Before you could turn away, however, Temmin was gently grabbing your forearm.

“Don’t uh, go that way, use the longer route. For your sanity.” He suggested, grimacing as you groaned in frustration.

“Kriff. Thanks, Snap.” You spun and stalked in the opposite direction, your eyes still scanning to ensure that you didn’t accidentally run into Rush despite Temmin’s warning.

The Healer had not taken kindly to your outright disinterest, apparently taking Poe’s interference at the cantina before your mission as a challenge. You felt you had enough on your plate now to justify not telling him point-blank to fuck off. You’d instead found yourself actively avoiding him, going so far as to duck into storage closets to hide, or in the case of two days ago, hide behind the broader frame of your Captain when you’d spotted the Rush walk into the hangar and look around for you.

Temmin had started to goad you after Rush had departed, stopping when he saw the look on your face and you’d resigned yourself to explain the situation. When you’d finished, he’d offered to talk to the Healer for you, suggested the Poe could and would step in as well, but you had been very clear that you didn’t want either of them to deal with your issues and told Temmin in no uncertain terms to keep the situation from Poe. He had been going out of his way in previous weeks to be kind to you. His continued (and entirely unnecessary) attempts to make up for everything that had happened, both on the mission and before. Having him do another favour for you when you had yet to figure out how to give back to Poe, didn’t sit right with you.

So you snuck out of the back of the dining hall and hoped you’d bought yourself more time to figure your shit out.

Earlier that morning

His curls were softer than you’d remembered, you loved sinking your hands into them and gripping. Your head felt so heavy that you felt yourself drop it into his neck, your heart swelling at how right it felt to nuzzle into Poe as he held you.

Fuck, it felt so good to straddle him this way, not just for how close your bodies were, how easily you could kiss him, but because his thick, long cock hit the best spots inside you at this angle. It was bliss, delicious, something you should have been doing for years. You rolled your hips as you came, crying out when he slammed you onto him and held you there as he came undone as well, feeling close to passing out when he cried out for you.

“Sweetheart, oh fuck, (y/n)!”

“FUCK!”

You gasped as you woke from your dream, trying to sit up even as your body continued to convulse from your orgasm and small moans tore from you. You gripped the sheets, panting as you floated down from your high, again. Another dream, the same memory replayed over and over every night until you eventually woke up like this, shaking and sweating and cumming.

You sobbed, sitting forward and drawing your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself as you dropped your head. This needed to stop and you didn’t understand why it wouldn’t. It had started up the first night you were back on D’Qar, always the same; the memory of those finals moments wrapped around Poe, the last orgasms you each had as the pollen had worn off, and then you’d wake up as you came. You’d tried masturbating before bed just to try and curb the need, but that hadn’t helped in the least. You were desperate now, confused and exhausted from waking up day after day filled with an intense need for something you shouldn’t want.

A good part of you thought your sleeping brain was just cruel, taunting you for what had occurred. But the logical side of your brain noted that it could very well be an aftereffect of the exposure to the pollen, perhaps the last dregs of it working its way from your system when you were most vulnerable. But since you hadn’t reported the exposure, there was no way to find out. It wasn’t like you were going to ask Poe if he was experiencing anything similar-either response he could give was equally as mortifying just to imagine.

Kicking your sheets away, you glanced at your clock and noted the early hour before stalking angrily into your fresher to take a shower. A cold one, because despite the daily orgasms you were waking up from, you were constantly on edge, hornier than you’d been in a long time.

It didn’t help that you were a touch-starved, lonely and unattached woman. Aside from what had happened with Poe on the mission, you hadn’t had sex in a long time and even the last few times you did, it wasn’t anything spectacular. Which was why you’d been almost ready to let Rush take you to bed before, just to feel something pleasurable.

And now...now you wanted to run away from all pleasure.

+

Poe watched as you hurried out of the room, your shoulders stiff and he frowned when you glanced hastily toward the other doorway before slipping out of view. He looked at Temmin, who was giving him a knowing, guilty kind of smile from across the table. “What the hell was that about?”

Temmin considered his words for a long moment, rapping his knuckles on the table. Finally, he said, “Major hasn’t told you?” As if hoping Poe might suddenly realize what was going on with you and let him off the hook. At the same time, his friend appeared unsurprised of the direction the conversation had gone since your odd departure.

Raising a brow at his friend, Poe leaned forward. “No,” He replied slowly, shaking his head, “Told me what?”

“Let me preface this by telling you she asked me not to make you aware of the situation. Healer Derrin has been cornering her around base every day since you’ve been back, trying to convince her to give him another chance,” Temmin paused as Poe shifted from curious to downright outraged, “Don’t look at me like that, I just found out myself like two days ago.”

“But-I-” Poe stammered, half rising from his seat, “What the fuck has he been doing?”

Temmin waved a hand in a calming manner, “Popping up all over, trying to catch her for a conversation. Only reason I found out was that he came into the hangar the other day and she practically climbed on my back hiding behind me from him.”

Beside himself with fury, Poe took several deep breaths to relax. “Fuck,” He growled, running his hands over his face.

A distant part of his mind wondered why he was so physically worked up, ready to seek out the Healer and lay into him. When he glanced up, Temmin was casting an obvious glance to the time and Poe relented, releasing his anger to focus on the task at hand. “Sorry, thank you for telling me. Let’s go.”

With a curt nod, Temmin jumped to his feet and fell into step with Poe as they made their way to the hangar. It didn’t go unnoticed by Poe that his friend cast a wary eye around, no doubt concerned they would run into Rush and he would be required to break up a fight.

Quietly sighing to himself, Poe rationalized that he could focus on patrol, then return to base and seek out Rush for a civil conversation, nothing more. Flying would calm him, help him to clear his head, and despite your request to keep Poe out of it, he wasn’t about to let you down by allowing some dick head to harass you.

-

Patrolling the Resistance base was a duty that fell upon every squadron, regardless of status. Poe knew he could probably convince Leia to let Black team off the hook, considering the number of high-status, incredibly dangerous missions she entrusted them with, however he felt it was good for his team to pull their weight when it came to the less exciting tasks.

It was also a good opportunity for some team building, as you all kept your comms open to have idle chit-chat throughout the shift. “Listen, Poe, Tommy was a lot taller than you. You know it, I know it, hell Temmin knows it! He knew Tommy!” You were giggling now, which was the only reason why Poe had continued to argue that Tommy wasn’t all that much taller than him.

“She’s right, Commander.” Temmin supplied with a chuckle.

Kare’s voice joined in, “I’ve never met this Tommy but he sure sounds a lot taller. Did you date him, Major?”

At the question, Poe felt himself stiffen slightly, suddenly extremely curious to hear your response. You didn’t hesitate, “Oh, maker, no. Never.”

“Wow,” Poe chirped with a laugh, “I’m kind offended for Tommy with how passionately you just said that!”

You laughed, “Tommy wasn’t my type, Kare. We were just friends.”

“But he did ask you out,” Temmin suddenly supplied, unknowingly causing Poe to frown. Tommy had asked you out...when? It can’t have been during Gold team days, because then he’d know about it, if not from you then certainly from Charlie, who was close with Tommy. Which meant that you had seen Tommy at some point after you left and spent enough time with him for the handsome pilot to ask you out. Jealously silenced Poe and he opted to listen only.

“Oh,” You sounded surprised that Temmin knew about it, “Yes, well we were stationed together for a while at an outpost a few years ago.” Though your voice had tightened somewhat, Temmin had apparently not picked up on it and continued speaking, teasing you.

“Huh well, Major, from what I heard via our mutual friend Rico, you two had a 'friends with benefits' thing going on during that assignment.”

You laughed in embarrassment, “Fuck off, Temmin.”

Realizing that his silence was both telling and uncalled for, Poe decided to join back in. “What, sweetheart, embarrassed to admit you liked his man-bun?” He joked, happily drawing further laughs from you and the rest of Black team. Inwardly, however, Poe was spinning and he tuned out of the remainder of the conversation as he fell into deep thought.

It was incredibly wonderful having you back. Despite everything that happened during the mission, the resulting change between Poe and you had exponentially increased his overall happiness. It felt, in some ways, like old times. The void that was Charlie was there, ever-present but not always overwhelming, sometimes it was just a hum of grief in the background as you walked next to Poe, your shoulder occasionally brushing his arm, or when you laughed fully and your eyes crinkled the same way Charlie’s had.

And stars, you were funny-Poe had always thought you had a great sense of humour, but the past few years had given you a slightly harsher perspective, something that most Resistance fighters developed in time. It meant your wit was a little drier, your sarcasm in great abundance. He’d laughed more these past few weeks than he had in years, something that didn’t escape Temmin’s notice, his friend often shooting him a knowing wink when you weren’t looking.

Professionally, not a whole lot had changed, though conversation and directives were less chopped, he was proud to know that despite the tension and anger that had been between you before the mission, you had both worked immensely well together.

He had been terrified that you would leave again, despite your assurances on the contrary. He wouldn’t even have blamed you if you had; he remembered everything that happened, the way he’d touched you, the dark bruises and marks he’d littered across your soft skin, and the things he said. The harsh, cruel words still twisted in the back of his mind, surging to the forefront at random to taunt him, force him to relive the way he’d demeaned you. But you hadn’t left, in fact, Poe was pretty certain that the first few days back you had barely left his side just to prove to him that you wouldn’t, and he was grateful for that more than he could tell you.

He was grateful to have you back, to banter and tease, to see your smile brighten the room every day, usually because of something he had said. His old feelings were stirring, never really having faded altogether, but he was eager to push them down again and focus on the friendship. He needed to reign in his jealousy over something that had happened years ago between you and Tommy.

There was no reason good enough to admit how he had felt before Charlie died, and certainly, nothing in the galaxy could convince him to confess to you how he was starting to feel now.

It was better, he thought, to just be friends. Safer.

Earlier that morning

Your skin was soft, delightfully silky and smooth under his rough fingers, and he enjoyed gripping you harder, pulling your hips to his as he filled you, over and over. Your warm body pressed against his as you straddled his lap, your moans weak and head lolling from the pleasure.

The feel of your head falling to his neck, your body curling into him as your orgasm hit.

“Oh Poe, don’t stop!” The way you said his name. How you clenched around him, pulling him to his own peak. The feeling that was coming inside of you, bliss and rightness of the action intensely overwhelming as you shivered in his arms.

With a start, Poe woke up, his dream-induced orgasm ripping from him. He was unable to do more than groan in pleasure, his hips rutting against the mattress as his cum spurted, hands gripping his pillow. Biting his lip, the shame washed over him before he’d fully finished cumming, his groan morphing into a pitiful sound of desperation.

Every fucking day he woke up much the same, his dream-memories of those final moments under the grip of the pollen replaying over and over until he woke up mid-orgasm. He hadn’t had wet dreams since he hit puberty, for Maker’s sake. He thought it must be an aftereffect of the pollen, further proof the intensity and potency of the red flower was beyond anything he’d ever heard of.

Grunting in frustration, Poe climbed out of bed and retrieved a towel to clean up his mess. Turning on the shower, he glanced at the time, happy that he had enough time to rinse off before meeting you for what was becoming a routine morning caf.

He kept the water cold, punishing himself for his dreams and wishing like hell he could erase the images of you, so beautiful and soft around him, from his mind.

+

It was ideal that the man essentially stalking you was a Healer because it meant that he was relatively easy to track down on base. Healers had long shifts in the med-bay and usually didn’t stray far from base in case something major happened that required additional medical support. Poe was walking to the med bay now, leaving you with Temmin and your funny friend Ana back in the dining hall, to confront Rush.

He’d come up with a simple excuse to step away, stating he required a few essentials from the commissary and wanting to get there before they closed. You were eating slowly tonight and he had taken advantage of that and Ana’s rare presence-something that would keep you in the dining hall much longer, conversation flowing, so that he could slip off to the med-bay.

He’d felt your eyes watching him as he excused himself, burning into the back of his neck as he tried to walk as casually as possible out of the room. As soon as he was clear, he sped up in case you decided to follow him, but a glance over his shoulder before he turned the corner a few minutes later proved he was right that you would linger with Ana instead.

As he walked along the halls, nodding and smiling at anyone he passed, Poe attempted to steady and control his emotions. He would ask Rush to leave you be; be nice but incredibly firm. Advise the healer that it was in his own best interest to keep things professional unless you did indicate you were interested. As he argued with himself on the best way to word the request, Charlie’s image floated around in his head, reminding him that if he was still alive and some dick head was bothering you, he would be the one to calmly protect you. Poe was the less than calm protector, but he needed to channel your brother here because he hoped to prevent you from finding out he’d cornered Rush.

As he approached the final stretch of the hallway that led into the med-bay, a nurse just coming off duty came walking along in the opposite direction. Poe recognized the older woman, brightening when she glanced up and saw him. “Evening, Rosie, how are you?” He flashed her his best grin.

With an affectionate roll of her eyes, Rosie calm to a halt in front of Poe, “Good evening Commander, what brings you to our neck of the woods? You don’t look injured unless your big head is giving you a headache.”

This was why Poe liked her, she was the type to catch on to bullshit and funny as hell. He couldn’t help his bark of a laugh, “No, I’ve gotten pretty good at lugging it around,” He replied, “Listen, can I ask you a quick question before you head off for a night of dancing with a lucky guy?”

“Lucky lady,” She corrected with a wink, and Poe smiled apologetically with a nod, “And go ahead, what’s up?”

“Right, my mistake, although now that I think of it I don’t think any of us men could survive your charms,” He joked, pulling a laugh from the deadpan nurse, “I’m looking for Healer Derrin, do you happen to know where I could find him?”

Something close to a knowing look flashed in her eyes then, but Rosie didn’t comment. “His shift just ended, actually. He left for the hangar roughly, oh, ten minutes ago.” She glanced at her wrist comm for the time, nodding to herself at her estimation.

Poe frowned, realizing that it was routine for you to have left dinner already to go to the hangar to input your mission report for the day and perform your check of his and your own ships. Because you were dining with Ana, however, you hadn’t left yet. “Thank you, Rosie.” He gently clasped her shoulder as she smiled at him with that look still in her eyes, but she merely bid him farewell before he spun around a hurried away, taking the quickest route to the hangar.

When he arrived, the hangar was fairly quiet, only a few lingering mechanics wandering about, several service droids cleaning the large space and performing nighttime checks. Still wearing his medical clothing, Rush was easy to spot as he stood near your ship across the room, eyes staring off at nothing as he waited to see if you’d turn up.

When he heard Poe’s footsteps approaching, he turned with a hopeful look before spotting him and shifting to a placating smile. “Evening, Commander!”

Poe stopped a few feet short Rush and tried his best to return the smile, “Healer,” His voice was clipped, and he took a careful breath in an attempt to keep calm and channel Charlie. Friendly, to the point, no need to get worked up. “What brings you here so late?”

Rush shrugged, “Hoping to catch the little bird that keeps flying off,” He admitted, gesturing at your ship, “Can’t seem to get any face-to-face time with her, but I’m hoping to clear things up and start fresh. Think I moved too quickly before.”

Poe plastered his face with a neutral expression as his insides burned upon hearing Rush refer to you as ‘little bird’. “Listen, man, I’ve known (y/n) my whole life and I don’t think she’s interested, I mean, it’s been weeks since your date and she’s been avoiding you since.” Poe kept his voice as steady as possible, not wanting his tone to convey anything other than mild interest.

Rush bristled immediately, however, “That your objective opinion, Dameron?”

His voice was pointedly not steady and his tone was anything but mild. Still, Poe held up his hands in a placating gesture, ��It is, and it’s kind of...uh, obvious, I guess.”

Poe watched as Rush took a measured step closer to him, though this didn’t serve to intimidate as the Healer stood an easy couple of inches shorter than him. “You’re full of shit. You’re telling me this because you want to fuck her,” He glared up at Poe, who was frowning as he fought his internal battle to remain calm. “Actually, noticed you two are buddy-buddy all of a sudden; so that’s it, isn’t it? You went off together for nearly two weeks and she spread her pretty legs for you-“

Well, no one could say Poe didn’t try. His fist was connecting with Rush’s smug face before the Healer could continue his vulgar accusation, falling back a few steps before regaining his balance and shooting a glare that did nothing to intimidate Poe.

Forcing himself not to move in for another punch, Poe pointed his finger at Rush, “Shut the fuck up, asshole. I never want to hear you talk about her that way again, got it?”

Rush scoffed, his hand rubbing along his reddening jaw, “You’re only proving me right, reacting like that. Either you want her so you’re trying to prevent me from having a chance, or you already had her,” The Healer was seething mad, clearly not thinking straight. He didn’t seem to see the tension rolling over Poe’s body, anger coiling within and ready to burst forth in more than just a single punch. Or maybe a handsome guy like Rush Derrin couldn’t stand the idea of having a competitor, as he seemed to view Poe, and it clouded his usual ‘nice guy’ personality entirely, made him mean, made him say things that he really, really shouldn’t. “Tell me, what is she like when you’re balls deep-does she moan as loud as I-“

This time, Poe didn’t hold his anger back into a single punch, he opted instead to launch himself at Rush, whose eyes flashed in fear just before he was taken to the ground. Fistfights weren’t something that Poe usually got himself into anymore, though he’d had more than his share growing up. He held himself to higher standards now, especially considering his high rank within the Resistance, the respect he had from his fellow fighters.

All of that was out the window though as he wrestled on the hangar floor with Rush, who gave a yell of anger as he tried to out fist Poe. He was strong, a decent enough match physically despite being shorter than Poe, who twisted his hips to roll Rush in a flurry of movement, eager not to end up bested by being pinned under the man. He did feel the punches he gained in return, particularly a stinging blow to his cheek that seemed to hit directly on the apple, skin splitting on contact. Rush was wasting energy on cursing and yelling insults, most of which didn’t register with Poe as blood rushed loudly in his ears, rage only intensifying.

It was only a few moments of fighting at this point, not long enough for anyone who had been on the other side of the hangar to have made it over already to break them up. This was why Poe stiffened in complete surprise when he saw a figure approaching quickly in his peripheral vision, which distracted him just enough for Rush to take advantage and roll heavily, slamming Poe into the floor. He felt his head hit the concrete, though it wasn’t too hard of a blow it was disorienting. Before he could even begin to attempt to get Rush off of him, however, the figure that had first distracted him now came directly into view over Poe.

It was you.

But you weren’t yelling for them to stop like he would have imagined you would do. Instead, from his vantage on the ground, Poe witnessed your fury first hand, so much more intense than he’d seen in years. But the night of Charlie’s funeral that fury had been lined with grief and heartbreak. Now, you looked shockingly terrifying as you swiftly launched yourself at Rush, tackling him off of Poe in one motion before rolling with ease and jumping back to your feet.

When you pointed your blaster down at the Healer, who lay flat on his back in complete shock, even Poe flinched at the look on your face.

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” You hissed, your voice cold and low. There were a few people nearby, all who’d frozen upon seeing the Major asserting her authority over the lower level Healer. Though he partially flushed with pride and equal parts surprise, Poe was quick to scramble to his feet and hurry to your side. “I forbid you to enter this hangar again unless it’s for medical purposes, got it?”

Poe could see that your finger wasn’t on the trigger of your blaster, the safety clicked on still. All the same, your reaction was completely out of character and he wanted to stop that cold, harsh look on your face in its tracks, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

“Sweetheart,” He murmured, quiet enough that only Rush could discern his words, “Let’s take a walk, let Healer Derrin go and lick his wounds.”

The moment you dropped the blaster, Rush was on his feet and hurrying out of the hangar, blissfully silent, entirely amusing. Poe glanced around to the others nearby and gave a friendly nod of release, and they broke away to finish their work. Placing a hand carefully on your lower back, he put a slight pressure and started to walk, relieved when you complied and holstered your blaster.

Though he’d suggested the walk, you seemed to take control of the direction and somehow Poe found himself stepping through the door of your room minutes later. He barely had a moment to glance around at the minimally decorated space, his eyes again finding your pinned copy of his favourite photo on the corkboard, before you rounded on him.

You weren’t as furious as you had been before, but he still took a measured step away from under the heat of your gaze, flinching as he waited for you to begin yelling at him for interfering in your life, for embarrassing you, bracing himself for your wrath.

Instead, your angry gaze met his own and you faltered, your eyes flicking over his face and Poe watched the anger melt away, your expression softening into concern. “Oh, Poe,” You sighed, closing the distance between you both to reach up and carefully grab his jaw with one hand, turning his head to peer up at the cheek he’d taken the worst punch to, “Are you alright?”

You dropped your hand, not completely as he would have expected but to rest on his chest, just over his heart. Poe felt himself stiffen again, the casual way you touched him driving him almost into a frenzy of confusion and hope and fear.

“I’m fine, I can take a punch,” He grinned, cringing when his cheek stung from the movement. “Might need to pop a bacta-patch over this, though.” He reached up and carefully prodded the split skin, hissing at the pain.

You stepped away, tugging Poe by the arm, “Sit,” You ordered, pushing him toward your bed. He perched himself on the edge and watched as you went to the med-kit you kept in your fresher to pull out bacta-patches. “I knew you weren’t going to the commissary.” You added when you walked back toward Poe, grabbing your desk chair and setting it in front of him before taking a seat.

“In my defence, I was being nice at first,” Poe said as you wiped away the blood on his face before gently placing the patch, your eyes focused on your work. “He uh, turned out to be a bit more hot-headed than I’d have thought.”

You snorted, “I came in too late to know who hit who first, but you don’t need to defend yourself,” Picking up another wipe, you cleaned around the patch and some spots along the rest of his face that must have had blood splatter. “I made Temmin tell me if he told you about Rush. I know you were fighting with him because of me. And that’s...that’s why I hadn't mentioned it, actually.”

Poe stared at you for a beat, “What do you mean?”

“I just,” You sighed, your eyes searching his face before you tossed the wipe in the trash and you sat back in your seat. He already missed the feel of your hands on his skin. “I knew you would want to talk to him, and that could lead to a fistfight or whatever on my behalf, and I didn’t want you to put yourself in that position just for me.”

“Just for you?” Poe repeated in surprise, leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees, to look at you closely, “Sweetheart, come on, you know I’d do anything for you.”

You nodded, but Poe wondered if you understood how serious he was, how he wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t question. Or maybe you did understand and that was why you looked slightly afraid, your face flushed as Poe gazed at you intently.

“Poe, you’ve been going out of your way for me since we’ve been back. You know it’s all...we’re good, I trust you,” You leaned forward, your face mere inches from Poe’s, and took his hands into yours, “So you don’t need to keep proving yourself, I promise.”

Poe felt himself nodding as he looked at you, gazed into your bright eyes and saw the sincerity in them, the emotion. He was still, afraid to move now that there was nothing between either of you, fully aware that you were alone together in a locked room and nothing could interrupt you. He felt himself blush, heat crawling up his neck, and Poe wanted to lean away and clear his throat and push back everything he was feeling but you were making it too difficult, sitting there with wide eyes and plump lips and a look so earnest, so trusting that he was transported straight back to the first time he’d wanted to kiss you.

But the thing was, he was a skinny teenager back then, and it had been easy to talk himself back and resist the urge because of Charlie. Because he didn’t want to offend you. Because your mom was just down the hall and could walk in at any moment.

But here, Poe wasn’t a teenager anymore, and for that matter neither were you. No, you were both fully grown adults, a fact he was keenly aware of as his eyes moved from yours, slowly, and he saw the way your lips were parted, the flush up your neck, the way your chest was heaving slightly.

He’d never wanted to be braver in his entire life.

Just as he thought of closing the gap, though, an image surfaced. The memory of you, trembling on the table after the pollen had worn off, just before he could give you the bacta shot, your body littered with marks he’d put there, the marks that were in the nightmares he kept having. Bile rose in his throat and he was sure you sensed the shift then because you were pulling away even before Poe broke the connection of your gazes and eased his hands from your grasp.

It was quiet for a minute, each of you looking determinedly away from the other. You stood, and Poe glanced up, fearing you were going to ask him to leave. You had a thoughtful look on your face, however, and moved over to your dresser instead. He watched as you opened the lowest drawer, flipping through the contents.

“I realized the other day that you didn’t have any of Charlie’s clothing because of course, I’d taken it all,” You straightened, turning around with a small stack of shirts clutched in your hands, “But I shouldn’t have done that, so here, take these.” And you held the stack out to him, biting your lip as you did.

Poe’s heart stuttered in his chest and he had to blink a few times to clear the sting of tears threatening the corners of his eyes. “These were...Charlies’?” You nodded, your eyes swimming with similar emotion. He took them from you and looked down at the familiar, worn fabric in a variety of colours, each shirt soft and well cared for. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what to say.”

He stood up, gripping the clothes in one hand before carefully reaching out and wrapping his arm around your head, pulling you close and kissing your hair. You were stiff in his arms, but he felt you patting his mid-back. “You don’t have to say anything, flyboy.”

—

It was very rare that you found yourself in your current position, crouched outside of Poe Dameron’s window late at night, grateful that his father slept on the lower floor of their home because he found it cooler. And even though you knew Mr. Dameron wouldn’t be mad if he found you sneaking into his son’s room, because you and Poe were together most of the time anyway since forever, you didn’t want him to interrupt your attempt to apologize to your friend.

You carefully slid the window open, your eyes attempting to adjust to the darkened room within but there was no light this evening, even the stars were hidden by clouds that threatened rain you knew wouldn’t come for another day at least. You were gazing in the direction of where you knew his bed was, so when hands shot out to grab you from almost right in front of you, you couldn’t help the squeak you let out, still desperate to be quiet, before promptly falling backwards. You wondered if you were about to break your arm again, and it had only just healed the month before. Kriff.

Thankfully Poe had already grabbed your waist, his hands gripping tighter when you lost your balance before he pulled you through his window with a grunt, both of you tumbling down due to the force he’d used to ensure you didn’t fall. Landing clumsily on top of him with a thud, you both froze in the dark, listening for any sounds from downstairs.

You waited a few minutes, heart pounding in your ears, wishing you could at least see Poe’s face but it was too dark, you could only make out the faint outline of him. You could tell he was looking up at you, but that was about it. Feeling confident Mr. Dameron was still fast asleep, you shuffled off of Poe, only his hands were still gripping your waist, so you ended up kneeling right next to him.

“Poe?” You whispered, moving a hand down to pat the back of one of his, “I think we’re good-sorry, I wanted to-“

Poe’s angry sigh halted your words in their tracks, and you felt his fingers flex before he released you and moved away. After a pause, light from a small lamp bathed the room in a low, golden glow and your best friend came into view, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I heard your apology the first time, (y/n),” He hissed, and you hated the way he said your name, that he even said it at all when you were used to him only referring to you as ‘sweetheart’. “Breaking in to say it again doesn’t really-“

You had climbed to your feet, dusting off your knees before glaring up at Poe, “Fine, I won’t apologize again. But I’m not leaving until you talk to me, tell me how I can fix this.”

Poe ran a hand wearily over his face, not meeting your eyes. Guilt and shame and sadness were all that you felt these past several days as Poe actively avoided you, refused to even look at you, because of what you’d said. And you hadn’t meant it, you really didn’t, it just slipped out in a moment of heated disagreement and you wished you could eat the words back up before you’d fully finished speaking. The look he’d given you...

“I don’t know, I just need some time,” He grumbled, still not looking at you. You took a half step closer, hoping to draw his gaze. Disappointed when he only frowned harder and kept his eyes on the wall. “I know you’re sorry, but you still fucking said it.”

“And I have no excuse for it, Poe, I was out of line. I was angry and I wanted to just...”

“You wanted to hurt me.” He finished, and you were shaking your head violently because that wasn’t it, it really wasn’t.

“No, no that’s not why,” You breathed, tears threatening but you swallowed them back, blinking, “You’ve just been so weird lately, and you wouldn’t tell me why so I lost myself and wanted a...a reaction, something, from you.”

Poe’s eyes locked on yours then and you felt yourself shrink inward at the coldness within them, “You said my mother would be ashamed of me. Out loud, to my face. Because I wasn’t explaining why I’ve been moody-which by the way, if you thought about it you’d fucking realize why-so that was your solution?”

His voice had raised only a fraction, a whisper yell in the dim room, yet he might as well have been screaming at you. You deserved for him to rage and yell because you had said that. In a stupid, selfish moment, after weeks of odd behaviour from Poe and another fruitless attempt to ask him what was going on, you’d said his mother would be ashamed of him for shutting you out. You hated yourself for saying it.

You grappled with yourself, struggling to find words and Poe jumped on your silence to continue speaking. “I forget sometimes that you’re just a kid, a silly, spoiled little girl who gets her way all the time,” His words cut through the air like little knives, driving straight into your chest, “But in the real world, when you say mean shit like that you can’t always just bat your pretty lashes and say you’re sorry. Words have consequences, you fucking brat.”

You bristled, despite having known when you decided to come here tonight and beg for forgiveness that he might lash out, you weren’t prepared for Poe to talk down to you like this. Little girl. Spoiled. Brat. Was that really how he saw you?

Was he really going to leave to join the Resistance and you’d never see him again?

“Fuck you,” You gasped, pain lancing your heart as you glared up at your best friend, “You don’t talk to me like that, Poe Dameron. I said a shitty, horrible thing to you and I didn’t mean it and I’ve been trying to apologize, that doesn’t give you the right to speak to me like this. You’re calling me the kid when you-you’re acting like an angry little boy?”

Poe dropped his crossed arms, his mouth opening in fury as he stepped toward you, and you were ready for the fight, for the words to start flowing between you both as whatever the fuck was going on lately seemed to bubble up and over. But the dim lighting of the room left a lot of shadows and darkness, and his sudden movement toward you startled you. You couldn’t help it, you flinched, visibly and almost bone jarringly. You flinched away from Poe, one hand half raising in front of yourself defensively.

And the fight in Poe, that fire and passion, it was out in an instant. Like you had flipped a switch and all the power was sucked from the room. For a moment, he stood frozen in mid-motion, gaping at you as you straightened from your defensive stance, and you shook your head to organize your thoughts, wanting to just apologize again and leave. But he was looking at you so intensely now that you felt like you couldn’t move; like he’d pinned you with his horrified expression.

“Are you-?” His voice almost broke, and he didn’t try to clear it, merely lowered the pitch, “Are you scared of me?”

You wanted to shake your head, but your brain was still processing the shocked look he was giving you, the colour rising to his cheeks as emotion seemed to overwhelm him. Poe looked utterly wrecked at that moment, and even though you knew he needed to hear you speak, to assure him that of course, you weren’t scared of him, the sudden movement and looming shadow on the wall had simply caught you off guard, you couldn’t bring yourself to fucking speak.

“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m so sorry, please don’t be afraid,” He gasped out, holding up both hands slowly, palms facing you, “I would never-shit, sweet, beautiful girl, please don’t be afraid of me, please I’m sorry, I’m so so-“

You cut him off as he started to nearly sob, convinced you were scared of him, that you thought he might hurt you. “Poe, no, I’m not scared!” Regaining the use of your brain, you stumbled forward and threw yourself against Poe’s chest, gripping the soft tee he’d worn to bed, your face pressed over his heart. “I was just startled, I’m not scared of you, I could never be scared of you.”

You could hear his heart hammering away in his chest, feel how tense he was, his hands hovering in the air behind you. His voice was so quiet when he spoke that if you hadn’t had your head so close against him, you wouldn’t have heard.

“I would never hurt you, fuck, I wouldn’t try to intimidate you. I’m sorry I was going to stand closer so I-I could yell without waking dad up, so stupid...” The sob that had been threatening him tore out, crushing your heart a little.

He was ridiculous because you’d know him your whole life and you knew he wasn’t the type of man to physically harm or scare anyone. Sure, he’d been in his share of fistfights, but even you knew he was usually throwing a punch in response, and these last few months he’d been relatively cool-headed, a sign of his maturity.

You pressed your body closer to his before lifting your head to look up at him. Poe was still not touching you, and he was looking across the room unseeingly as he blinked back tears, his expression tense and upset. With slow movements, you reached up to stroke along his jaw, your hand pausing when you first touched him, your heart rate picking up a little when his eyes closed at your touch. You stroked more than the usual three times, repeating the action until his body relaxed against yours, continuing until his hands tentatively moved, one settling on your waist and the other raising to cup your face.

You stood like that for a long moment, your fingers still trailing the familiar path of his stubble, drinking in the way his expression, eyes still closed, softened for you.

“I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me, Poe,” You whispered, “That’s why I’m fucking wrecked that I hurt you. If you don’t want to see me anymore...I understand, I crossed the line like an idiot. Our friendship has always been the most important thing to me and I overstepped and I’m sorry, you’re right that I’m just a stupid little-“

“Stop,” Though it was low, whispered into the room, the command behind the word was enough to silence you and you gazed at Poe in surprise. He looked at you then, and you delighted at the expression he had, so filled with love and care. “I forgive you, I know you didn’t mean it. I saw your face right as you said it...we just, we both got too worked up. We keep doing that, I think because we know Charlie and I leave in less than a year.”

You nodded in agreement, the small movement making you suddenly very aware of how tightly pressed against Poe you were. He was still holding your face gently, but the hand on your waist was gripping you in a way the suggested he felt the proximity as well. You took a shuddering breath, “I love you, Poe. I’m sorry.”

He dropped his head to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering half shut, and the weirdest thought suddenly cropped up in your head. The most absurd notion that you could easily tilt your head and press your lips to his. You remained still, but couldn’t help but stare at his soft lips as he spoke.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” The hand on your waist clutched you closer, which you hadn't thought was possible, “And I promise I would never hurt you, never lay a finger on you or say something awful that I meant, never. Nothing could ever, ever make me hurt you, sweet, lovely girl.”

You closed your eyes, unable to trust yourself to resist kissing him when he spoke to you like that, his words coated in the deep, suddenly husky tone of voice. And you couldn’t rid those thoughts as he led you over to his bed and you cuddled against him, ready to sleep but your heart thrumming away as you imagined what it would be like to kiss him, your Poe.

What would it be like to be with him, to touch him, to-and you really blushed now, grateful he’d shut the light back off and his light snores were filling the room-feel him hard for you...you’d never been with a guy before, not like that. You’d had some steamy make-out sessions, groped and fondled with cute guys...but the idea of your Poe coming undone for you...

Well, that was suddenly an idea that you were completely unaware would have such an intense impact on you. You let the images play out in your mind for a moment before taking a deep breath and pushing them back and down, convincing yourself it was just a reaction to the adrenaline, the high emotions. Poe’s grip on you tightened in his sleep, and you snuggled closer to lay your head over his heart and listen to the steady beat.

—

Word travelled quickly around base that Rush Derrin had been beaten up by a pilot; the surprising thing was, at least to you, that the pilot in question was you and not Poe. Apparently, Poe scrapping on the floor with Rush wasn’t nearly as interesting or exciting as the story of how you’d tackled Rush, moved to your feet and drawn your blaster on him in one swift motion.

You had grown used to the quiet greetings over the months you’d been on D’Qar, and enjoyed the last few weeks of friendlier hello’s that cropped up in response to your rekindled friendship with Poe, but the tale of your no-nonsense, ego stripping attack on the rude Healer seemed to blast you into the same orbit Poe had been in as the ever-popular poster boy for the Resistance.

Everyone said hello, no matter where you went or the time of day. Ana sought you out the afternoon after to tell you that all the mechanics were raving about how they thought you were snobbish, and now realized you were, in fact, a silent badass. As embarrassing as it all was, it was nothing compared to Poe’s response to your new status.

He was insatiable, eagerly and proudly telling anyone who would listen-and it seemed everyone did want to listen-his first-hand account of watching you tackle Rush. Of how you’d coldly told him off as you followed your professional directive-protect your Commander, no matter the threat. Your shoulders were starting to ache from the number of times he’d clapped his hands over them, rooting you to the spot so that you couldn’t escape the latest admirers, gripping you because he really was proud, really meant everything he said.

“Okay, seriously,” You breathed when you finally broke free from a group of younger pilots, Poe laughing at your side in amusement at your reaction. “Commander, I may have protected you but I can just as easily go ahead and kick you in the-"

“Ah, come on now sweetheart, you wouldn’t do that,” He laughed, a playful arm dropping around your shoulder. Your insides had started reacting to every single touch, lingering or not, that Poe gave you. Which had been happening a lot lately. And it didn’t help matter that he’d look at you the night of his fight with Rush like you had told him you’d hung the moon just for him. You couldn’t shake the memory of the way he’d gazed at you as you sat frozen, inches away.

“Don’t be so sure,” You grumbled, allowing him to lead you to the hangar, “I now have to hope that if either of us gets seriously injured Rush isn’t the Healer on call, because I doubt he’d be much help now.” You noticed then that even though you were still passing people, and those people were smiling at you, no one had stopped you or spoken to either you or Poe.

Confused, you frowned up at Poe, intending to ask him, but the words died on your tongue.

No one was stopping you because they didn’t want to interrupt Commander Dameron and Major Horn, happily wrapped around each other, looking exactly like a love-struck couple. You were sure that a previous version of yourself, the one who existed years and years ago, would have quickly sprung out of Poe’s reach and laughed awkwardly, made an excuse to run to the fresher. Instead, a feeling grew inside of you that felt a lot like...

Possession. But that wasn’t right, was it?

Poe wasn’t yours, not like that. It was almost like there were two parts of you reacting to the increasing touches; the part that enjoyed the familiarity of his affection, and a part that starved for more and grew hungrier every time it was fed. It made it hard, impossible even, to sort through your real feelings for Poe. Because you did love him, you did feel yourself flush at the idea that others were viewing you as a couple, and yet...the path of your thoughts seemed to reroute itself constantly, focusing on the physical and craving more of it.

Maybe this was your problem before, you couldn’t admit to yourself how you felt toward Poe and it ended up being twisted up until Charlie died. You’d admitted to yourself that the biggest reason you’d fled was that you had realized, all those years ago, that you were in love with Poe. Was that what this was now? Old feelings slamming back home with startling intensity?

Then why could you only focus on his hands on you, if that was the case?

He’d noticed you’d gone quiet and came to a sudden halt in the empty hall, glancing down at you curiously, his eyes darker than normal. You felt his arm hold you a little tighter, the hand on your shoulder gripping almost too hard.

It felt really good.

Fuck, what the fuck.

“Sweetheart?” He searched your face, brows pinching in confusion.

Feeling a little dazed, you shook your head to clear your mind, keenly aware that there was no space between your bodies, that you could press up against him easily. And you were warm, actually. Really, really warm.

“Sorry,” You murmured, forcing yourself to give him a placating little grin, “Just...a little overwhelmed, I think.” You admitted, conceding a partial truth that you knew would suffice.

Instantly, his expression softened and he was backing up, pulling you with him until he was leaning against the wall. He spread his feet apart and pulled you to stand between them, his hands moving to cup your face gently as he looked down at you with kind eyes. You think you stopped breathing. You think he did too. He seemed surprised at his actions.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been teasing you for days,” He sighed after a pause, one thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek. You were going to combust or pass out, or maybe just evaporate on the spot. “Good news is, I’m pretty sure the General has another mission that’ll take us out of this parsec for a day or two. Should give everyone enough time to move on.” His other hand moved from your face to brush back a few stray hairs, his eyes following the movement hungrily. They were darker still.

There was a familiarity in that darkness.

“That-that’s uh, good,” You stammered, your eyes moving everywhere except to meet his. You were afraid of what he’d see if he looked directly at you. Of what you’d see...but you didn’t understand why you were afraid.

You just got Poe back, you weren’t fucking this up. Get it together, get it together, breathe...

“I know I don’t need to ask,” His voice was low, the timbre shooting straight to your core, “But are you okay to fly, because you seem a little out of it.” His voice sounded wrecked, like it was painful to be speaking.

You nodded hastily, pressing your hands into his abdomen for some unknown reason. You could feel the muscle under his shirt, hell you could remember what it felt like to touch those muscles, to drag your tongue along the surprisingly soft skin, before...before...

Oh fuck.

You think you realized what was happening a moment before it was too late to react, your brain opting to shut down as pleasure ripped through your body with a ferocity that knocked you clean over. With a shuddering moan, you collapsed into Poe as your orgasm rocked through you, unable to speak now as wave after wave turned you into a whimpering mess. He caught you, his face confused even as he unknowingly rutted his hips against you and started trembling.

“What-?” He got a good look at your face then and realization dawned, his expression twisting in horror. “Oh shit, shit,” He groaned, clutching you harder against him and you heard him breathe out your name, equal parts fear and desire colouring his tone before he sunk to his knees, bringing you down with him, and his body stilled.

His orgasm tore through him just as violently, the only thing he could think to do was nuzzle his head into your neck and hide his face as he came. You were limp, your body jerking and convulsing as the high never ended, it seemed to hold at its peak and just drag you along for the ride, unwillingly. In the very back of your mind, you recognized that what was happening was, undoubtedly, an aftereffect to the pollen you’d been exposed to weeks prior. The nightly dreams, subsequent orgasms, the way fire licked up your spine at every touch from Poe...it made sense, and if you weren’t currently trying to keep yourself and Poe quiet as you each came, you’d probably be feeling like a first-class idiot for not reporting the exposure.

“Fuck,” You whimpered pitifully, clinging to Poe for life. You felt another hand on your shoulder suddenly and registered a voice saying your name. It took a few moments to find enough clarity to look up, blinking through the haze to find Temmin standing over you both, his expression frantic with concern.

“Major, (y/n), tell me what’s happening, talk to me here!”

“T-Temmin...we, we were exposed on our, shit,” You had to pause as your orgasm seemed to notch up another level, dropping your head to hide your face against Poe’s. “Mission. Red fertility plant, help, oh maker please help!” You cried out, the burning and heat threatening to undo you completely, no longer overwhelmed with lust but now a high that seemed too far for humans, your heart hammering in your chest like it wanted to break out, run away from you and abandon your trembling body as you burned.

You slumped over, distantly aware of Temmin roaring for medics, but determined to bring your focus to Poe, who was now holding you too tightly. You realized he was speaking into your neck, and you had to tilt your head awkwardly to hear. Your vision was narrowing now, but you could hear him perfectly.

“I can’t hurt you again, don’t let me hurt her, please make it stop.” He repeated this plea over and over, and it was the only thing you could hear as your eyes began to close, as other hands were on you, pulling him away and you fought to keep him close until the heat became too much and a sudden stinging cool hit your arm and you were falling, down and into an unknown abyss, your last thoughts swirling in your head louder than any voice around you.

‘Don’t let me hurt him again, please don’t let me hurt Poe again...’

—

Temmin paced the med-bay waiting area frantically, waiting for an update from the Healers on both the Commander and Major’s statuses. He’d been leaving the hangar when he found them in the hallway, clinging to one another as they seemed to convulse with pain, and it had fucking terrified him. It had made some sense when you’d be able to gasp out an explanation that you’d each been exposed to a fertility plant during your mission. But he didn’t have any room to be embarrassed that you were both essentially having orgasms in front of him because you looked so scared and confused and Poe’s words were stuck in his brain now.

“Please don’t let me hurt her again, make it stop, I can’t hurt her, she’s everything to me, please make it stop...”

While he knew he was a less emotional sort of man, Temmin wasn’t an idiot. He knew that Poe and you were soulmates who’d been through some seriously dark shit. That you just needed to work through it all to find your way back to one another. And apparently, you had started the process-finally-during your classified mission. He had been overjoyed at the change in your interactions with one another, that you seemed to be friends again, at least.

But he’d also noticed the weird reactions you both had to some of his more inappropriate teasing, seen how you would both flush and change the subject and he thought at first that maybe you had started dating again, only something seemed off. You had become increasingly more wound up over the weeks, and Poe had appeared to turn inward more and more, as though his thoughts were so intense he was trying to conceal them with every fibre of his being from everyone.

You had only mentioned a suspicious plant in your reports from your mission. It had been with dawning horror, as he screamed for Healers, that Temmin understood you’d mentioned the flowers because you’d been exposed. That whatever had happened upon exposure had been so bad that neither you nor Poe wanted to include it in your reports.

“Captain?” A Healer came out from the back, a soothing expression on her face that told him you at least weren’t dead.

He hurried forward nonetheless, “Maker, Healer Brooks, please tell me they’re going to be alright!”

Did you enjoy this chapter? Consider leaving a comment or reblogging to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Thank you 🤍

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @its-djarin @alex-sulli

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Epilogue: His Forever

Intro: Part of the journey is the end…

Warnings: “Language!” Smut (NSFW, 18+) Descriptions of childbirth, slight angst and drama... Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So here it is, the Epilogue to SSB. I’m tearing up as I post this, my babies sure have come a LONG way since that first meeting in that little boxing gym. I’m all kinds of emotional and I can’t thank you all enough for reading, re-blogging, commenting, and for loving Katie as much as I do.

And to @angrybirdcr​…you are AMAZING. Coming on this ride with me, doing all these wonderful edits, I simply love you!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 61

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

May 2024

There were various ways in which Katie was used to being woken in the mornings. Sometimes it was by a kiss from Steve along with a fresh coffee when he returned from a run. On others, she woke up because she was just too damned hot due to Steve being tangled around her like a koala, years of sleeping together hadn’t changed him in that respect. He was needy. Very needy. Some mornings it was down to a cheeky four year old crawling under the covers from the foot of the bed, settling in between his parents for a morning snuggle, Lucky often padding behind him. And then there were the times she was woken in a way which was most certainly not child friendly, in any way, shape or form.

Which was the way she found herself waking that sunny Tuesday morning, whilst the first light broke outside their Brooklyn home. She was barely aware of a pair of soft lips gently kissing her neck forming an exquisite contrast to the delectable scratching of a beard against her skin, a strong yet ever so gentle hand trailing across her now huge baby bump and up her side and curve of her hip in a way that made her shudder in anticipation.

Unable to stop herself, she made a sleepy noise in her throat and the owner of said lips and beard smirked against the crook of her shoulder as a hand slid between her legs and caressed the inside of her thigh. Still half asleep, she let out a soft sigh, moving her legs slightly, spreading them wider. She blinked and rolled her head to glance over her shoulder to be met with a pair of bright, blue eyes that were shining with mischief.

“Good Morning.” Steve’s voice was thick with sleep and an unmistakable deep sliver of desire, his short hair tousled slightly where he’d been led on it.

“Yeah, it looks that way.” She grinned biting her lip, as his hand moved back up over her stomach. “What happened to sleeping in?” “It’s gone nine, Doll.” he murmured, his lips gently sucking on the spot behind her ear. “You’ve been asleep for nearly twelve hours.” “Not my fault.” Katie closed her eyes and rolled her head to the side as his teeth nipped at her skin. “At least I can sleep this time round.”

Steve let out a chuckle as his hand continued his journey upwards underneath the shirt she was wearing. Much to his relief (for the sake of both their sanity) Katie had found this pregnancy a lot easier than the last one, something she continually insisted was down to her carrying a girl and not an awkward mini-Steve.

She still had her cravings. The food this time being strawberries (in any shape be it fresh, dried, flavoured ice cream, flavoured milk) and sex (which Steve was more than happy to help out with) but all in all the sickness had dissipated by twenty weeks, she managed to sleep better and she felt better, he could tell. She wasn’t half as cranky or emotional as she had been last time and had actually enjoyed being pregnant, confessing to Steve that she was actually going to miss it when their little girl arrived, and it had shown. She was positively glowing.

The day they’d found out they were expecting a daughter, Steve’s entire face had lit up with a smile as large as his heart as he’d choked up that his secret wish had come true, a little princess that would hopefully look just like her momma, with her famous sass and tenacity that he loved beyond belief. And the fact that his wife was there, nurturing and growing his baby once more, seeing the changes to her body again, had made him constantly horny on the low.

And this morning was no exception.

“Not going running?” Katie asked as his lips continued their assault on her neck.

“Its my day off.” He muttered, as if that explained it, whilst his arm pulled her back further into his chest and she could feel his hardness pressing into her back. Katie deliberately pushed back into him, causing him to hiss through his teeth and his hand found her tender breast and gave a soft squeeze, his finger barely brushing over the nipple but it was enough to send a hotwire straight to her groan, causing her to moan loudly.

“Shhh!” He grinned, using the hand of his right arm that was currently situated underneath her neck to gently tip her head round towards him, capturing her lips in a deep kiss. “God I love you.” He muttered against her lips, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I love you too.” She sighed, as his hand slid back down her body and worked into her sleep shorts. She gave a hiss, senses heightened as Steve hooked a hand round her thigh slightly, placing it over his to keep her legs open.

“Sweetheart, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, breath hot on her lips and she gave a soft whimper.

“Don’t tease me Stevie, please.” She murmured, pressing back further against his crotch. “Need you.”

And when she begged like that, how could he refuse?

He ground back up against her once before he gently eased the bottom half of her clothing down, shoving his own sleep pants down.

“We’ve got to be quiet.” Katie reminded him, then contradicted herself, letting out a groan when he shifted gently, keeping her leg over his and slowly pushed into her, his hand grasping on her hip. Katie’s head rolled back further as he began to move gently, his teeth grazed the side of her neck gently chiding,

“Hush, Baby.”

Katie whimpered, but did as instructed, turning her face into the pillow, digging the tips of her nails into his arms which were wrapped around her, keeping her close to him as he continued his slow, deep movements, finding a rhythm that was perfect for the lazy morning. He continued to spread sloppy kisses down the back of her neck, and she once more rolled her head to capture his mouth, her breath coming in ragged pants as she neared her release. Steve read the signals and picked up the pace slightly, his hand dropping to her clit and gently stroking.

“Fuck.” She hissed from between her teeth, turning her face to press again into the pillows in an attempt to stifle her sinful moans. Steve buried his face into her neck, quelling his own noises of satisfaction, as he rutted up and forward into her again, his fingers deftly working her sensitive bud as he did so. Katie was powerless to do anything but squeal she felt her relief coming, silently screaming as the lights went off before her eyes and she let out a soft keen of delight into the plush bedding that surrounded her face as she tightened and pulsed around him, pushing him over the edge right behind her. Steve came with a low moan that he stifled by biting down gently on her shoulder, his chest heaving as the world span around him.

They lay there in silence for a moment, the only sound was that of their heavy breathing as Steve ran his hand up and down the curve of his wife’s hip, before it curled around her bump, her own hands settling on his forearm as she looked over her shoulder. Steve lifted his head with a lazy smirk gently pressing their lips together again, more than content to stay right where they were and possibly fall back to sleep.

But it seems someone else had other plans.

Steve’s head snapped up when his super hearing picked up the sound of a door opening across the landing. “Incoming.” He muttered before they shared a smile and he pulled out of her, both of them giving another soft sigh as he hastily pulled up his pants, Katie managing to find her sleep shorts that had been discarded somewhere under the covers. And just in time too, as the door opened a crack and a small blonde head peeked in. Jamie grinned upon seeing his parents awake and quickly made a beeline for the bed, diving onto the bottom and crawling up into the middle.

“Morning, Sweetie.” Katie beamed as Steve moved the covers so the little boy could settle underneath them.

“Morning Momma, morning Daddy.” He grinned, giving them both a kiss in turn. A thud on the bottom of the bed told Steve that Lucky had joined the party and sure enough, when he looked down he saw the elderly dog was led with his head on Katie’s feet where they peaked the blanket up.

“Did you sleep well?” Katie asked, smoothing back Jamie’s sleep mussed hair as he sat up in the middle of his parents.

“I had a dream I was on motorbike.” He grinned and Steve chuckled as the boy turned to his father. “Can I ride yours?” Steve looked at Katie who rolled her eyes. He had let Jamie sit on it in the garage a few days prior and since then he had been obsessed with the damned thing.

“Maybe later.” He smiled. “But first, I don’t know about you but I’m pretty hungry.”

“I want pancakes.” Jamie demanded clapping his hands together.

“What d’ya say?” Steve responded gently correcting his manners.

Jamie stilled, staring at Steve with his big blue eyes, a smile on his face. “Please.”

Then they both turned pleading faces towards Katie and she laughed at the ridiculous resemblance between them. “Alright,” she sighed, “We can have pancakes. Again.”

Jamie cheered. “Emmy will want pancakes too!” He chirped, climbing over his father, drawing a loud huff from Steve as his knee dug him right in the stomach, before the stocky little boy slid off the side of the bed. Katie grinned as he ran off calling for his sister.

“I’ll go start breakfast.” Steve smiled. “I’m assuming you’ll want Strawberries with yours?”

She nodded eagerly. “Oh and some chocolate chips.” “Any strawberries in your orange juice or you happy to have that straight, today?” Steve raised an eyebrow at her, remembering her sudden request yesterday that he blended the fruit into her juice. “Our little princess wants what she wants, Stevie.” She smirked and he laughed, giving her a peck on the lips before he swung his legs off the side of the bed, standing and grabbing a shirt off the back of the chair by the dresser.

“Nice ass.” Katie complimented cheekily.

He threw a smirk over his shoulder as he turned walking backwards towards the door holding his arms out to the side, giving the usual response “It’s all yours Baby Momma” He told her, turning back round heading out of the door.

Katie giggled and looked at Lucky who was now led on his back, all four legs splayed, in a most undignified position.

“You comfy, pal?” She grinned at the dog as his head cocked to one side and his tail began to wag as much as it could due to the position he was in. She rubbed his belly before she heaved herself out of bed and headed into the en-suite for a quick shower. Her back was aching slightly, most likely due to the position she’d just been pleasantly fucked in, but it was nothing she couldn’t cope with. She smiled to herself, her hand rubbing her bump, knowing that their baby would be with them any day now. And, despite the fact she was petrified about giving birth again, she couldn’t wait to meet their little miracle snap baby. And neither could Steve.

Once she was dried, Katie pulled on a pair of leggings, a vest top and one of Steve’s flannel button downs before she made her way down to the kitchen, the chatter of her family’s voices hitting her ear as she walked into the room ready for her breakfast.

“Daddy says we can go see Uncle Buck as I’m not going to Day Care today!” Jamie told her as soon as she made her way to the table. “He’s at his department.” “Apartment, dude.” Emmy corrected.

“Yeah that!” He nodded. “Uncle Sammy will be there too.”

“He messaged before to say he was back from, well, wherever he’s been for the past two weeks. I said we’d pop by later on.” Steve said as Katie looked at him. “Thought we could walk round if you’re feeling up to it?”

Katie nodded, the apartment Bucky had bought was only a few blocks away. He’d only moved in a few months ago as the paperwork had taken a while to complete and then there had been the rather heated discussion Katie had held with Secretary Ross in order to get both Sam and Bucky some form of compensation, not to mention Bucky’s Army severance pay that was well overdue. Katie had gone to town on the man, thoroughly enjoying the fact she embarrassed him in front of a fair few military leaders accusing him of shirking his responsibilities towards two Veterans, and then the new President had stepped in, probably to stop her right hooking him again. As a result, the two men had been given a fairly decent lump sum each, with Katie had doubled using monies from the Stark Relief Fund. Bucky had bought a nice apartment in Brooklyn, whilst Sam had opted to head further into Manhattan after spending a couple of months at home with his folks. Either way, it made both Katie and Steve chuckle as the two men spent that much time at each other’s respective places they might as well have moved in with one another.

“You wanna come, Em?” Katie asked as Steve set a large plate of pancakes down in the middle of the table

“I got homework.” she pulled a face “I’ll probably do a bit then go to Brooke’s. Am I okay to stay the night? We’ll be studying, not messing around I promise.” “If it’s okay with Jennifer it’s fine with us, Sweetheart.” Steve said, placing a dish of strawberries down in front of Katie before he settled into the spare seat as his wife placed a few pancakes on a plate and some bacon for Jamie. “And as for studying, give yourself a night off. You’ve been flat at it since you broke up last week.”

She smiled at him as he gave her a wink before they all tucked into their breakfast. They ate, talking about anything and everything, before Emily retreated upstairs to her room to start her work. Katie and Steve settled in the living room for an hour or two before they dressed and set off on the short walk to Bucky’s apartment.

“Hey buddy!” Bucky grinned as Jamie threw himself at his Uncle, wrapping his arms around his legs.

“I missed you Uncle Buck!” Jamie giggled as Bucky swung him up into his arms, moving backwards to let Katie and Steve into the apartment. Katie undid her lightweight jacket and Steve took it from her, as usual, before he shed his own and placed them on the hooks by the door. “You guys walk here?”

Katie nodded. “It’s a nice day, pretty warm out.”

“Yeah, I’ve been colder.” Bucky quipped, making her grin. He turned to Jamie. “You wanna chocolate milk, pal?”

“Yup!” Jamie grinned, popping the P causing Steve to snort as they all made their way through into the kitchen. Katie noticed there were a few more photos dotted around the place than last time she had been. She’d done the same for Bucky as she had for Steve years ago and dug a few photos out of archives and various places, making him a frame up which consisted of shots of his family, him and Steve, the Howlies… He’d hung it on the wall and now around it were a few pictures of more recent times, including some of him and the kids. She smiled gently as she saw the copy of the scan photo they had given him pinned up on the fridge.

It wasn’t long before Sam joined them much to Jamie’s delight and soon the apartment was filled with chattering and laughter, which in turn filled Steve’s chest with a warmth he couldn’t explain, having his best friend in such a domestic setting.

They ate lunch, as of course Jamie was hungry despite the mountain of pancakes he had eaten, and then Bucky keyed up the Nintendo, passing a controller to Jamie with a grin.

“How’s the job going Steve?” Sam asked, passing Steve a beer as he sank back onto the couch, the sound of Mario Karts filled the room form the speakers of the TV. Steve watched Jamie for a moment, before he turned to Sam smiling.

“Good, yeah.” he leaned back, taking a drink of his beer. “It’s still early days yet but…no I’m enjoying it”  

And he was. Whilst he had back in time, so to speak, Steve had trained as an art teacher but he had no paper work or anything to back this up formally. So, with Katie’s help, he had pitched an idea to the Pratt Institute who had gleefully accepted him as a part time lecturer on their History Programme, providing first hand experiences of being in the War and the Depression. Alongside this, he was working to re-gain the qualifications he needed to teach BFA Drawing. It wasn’t full time, he worked Wednesday through Friday at the moment, intending to pick it up when he was qualified but that was still up for debate. They didn’t need the money, it was more a case of Steve needing to do something and he had no desire to join the various military organisations the Government kept trying to tempt him with. Plus, he still hosted a support group twice a week and that wasn’t something he wanted to give up any time soon. Bringing everyone back had, as predicted, posed a whole different set of problems so SIDE had continued to fund groups to help in any way they could.

“You on maternity leave yet?” Bucky asked, not looking at Katie, his eyes glued to the screen “Because, no offence, but you’re huge.” “Thanks.” She glared at the back of his head as he shrugged. “I officially finished last Friday. The Company is in good caretaker hands and Pepper will be overseeing it all so, yeah, that’s it!”

“Just need her here now.” Steve grinned, his hand resting on the back of the sofa behind Katie.

“You need a name first.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“They got one.” Jamie looked at Sam, taking his attention off the screen “It’s…” “Woah!” Steve cut him off and shook his head, “A secret, remember?”

Jamie clamped his little hands over his mouth “Whoops!”

“Whisper it to me kid.” Sam grinned, leaning down towards Jamie who shook his head furiously.

“That’s naughty, Uncle Sammy.” He looked at him, his little brow furrowed.

“Yeah stop trying to teach my kid bad habits.” Steve shot him a look. “He gets enough off his sister.”

At that point a triumphant cry came from Bucky who’s Luigi Kart had sailed over the line in front of Jamie’s Mario one.

“You cheated.” Jamie looked at him, his eyes narrowed with an expression that made him momentarily look like his mother.

“How did I cheat?” Bucky scoffed.

“I wasn’t watching.” Jamie continued to glare at him. “That’s your own fault.” Bucky smirked. “Rule number one kid, never take your eye off your opponent.” “Okay, move over Jay.” Sam shook his head, dropping onto the floor by the little boy’s side as he handed him the controller. “I’m gonna kick his ass.”

**** “But I don’t wanna!” Jamie pouted, as Steve held out his coat when it was time to leave. “I wanna stay here…” “It’s not up for discussion.” Steve replied sternly. “Put your jacket on, now.” “Steve.” Bucky smiled, holding his hand out. “I don’t mind, I can drop him back tomorrow if he wants to stay.”

“Boys night in.” Sam nodded sagely and Jamie’s eyes lit up as he looked at Sam then back to Steve. “Yeah, please daddy. There’s some of my stuff in the spare room from my last sleep over.” Jamie pleaded.

Steve sighed, and looked at his son who was watching him, hope bright in his eyes.

“Honey?” He asked, looking to his wife who merely popped her shoulder in response.

“He’s not in Nursery this week so his routine is already out of the window, he can stay for me, but you’ll have to feed him at some point.” She smiled, looking at Bucky. “Preferably before midnight or he’ll turn into a gremlin.”

The reference was lost on Bucky, but not Sam who laughed.

“Pizza?” Bucky asked and Jamie gave a cheer.

“Pizza is my fave. And Mac and Cheese.” “Looks like he’s all yours then.” Steve shrugged, putting the jacket back on the hook and retrieving Katie’s instead. “Don’t let him stay up too late or we’ll be dealing with the fall out tomorrow.” Bucky saluted Steve who rolled his eyes before he looked at Jamie. “You behave or Uncle Bucky and Sam will call me to come pick you up.” Jamie saluted his dad in an identical way to Bucky, making Katie grin. Together, man and wife set off back into the setting sun, Steve’s arm curling round Katie’s shoulders. As they were alone for the evening, Emmy having messaged to say she was indeed going to Brooke’s, they decided to take the opportunity for a meal out and headed to a little Italian Bistro Steve had discovered on his run one morning. Katie wasn’t all that hungry after a large lunch but she managed a decent portion of her penne pasta, Steve demolishing her left overs as well as his own meal. They then made their way over to a small wine bar across the street, Steve grabbing them both a drink as they settled in one of the booths by the back, simply enjoying their time together, and left shortly before eleven, their pace easy.

They’d made it to the end of their road when Katie stopped, rubbing at her back as she gave a little hiss of pain.

“You okay?” Steve’s brow furrowed in concern and she smiled, shaking her head.

“Yeah, my back’s been playing up all day. I’ll be fine in a bit.”

The continued their walk, at a slower pace, until just as they reached their gate, Katie felt a sharp twinge across her abdomen. She blew out a breath as she rubbed her distended belly through her jacket and then the realisation washed over her. The growing back pain, uncomfortable feeling she’d had all day…just like it had been when she had started labour with Jamie.

Steve was watching her as she looked at him, straightening up.

“I think I’ve started.” She said gently.

“Really?” Steve asked, closing the distance between them, hands falling to her hips.

“I think so, I mean it feels the same as last time.”

Steve’s face was the same mix of excitement and nervousness it had been when she’d gone into labour with Jamie just over four years ago, and he placed a kiss on her forehead as he pressed his hand to the sensor on the gate.

“Let’s get you in and settled.” He smiled.

Once she was inside, Katie sat on the couch, suddenly very uncomfortable. Steve went into the kitchen to find the heat pack, but he hadn’t even had chance to open the cupboard when a loud yell made him turn and run back into the lounge.

Katie was bent over rubbing at her stomach her face scrunched up in pain.

“Honey?” Steve dropped to his knees in front of her.

She breathed through it and looked at him, nodding. “I’m okay.”

“Do we need to go in already?” He frowned. Katie shook her head, smiling. “It’s gonna be faster but not that fast.”

“You want me to run you a bath?” She nodded.

“Alright, come on.” In one easy movement she was in his strong, secure arms as he effortlessly carried her up the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later she lay in the bath, the warm water providing a little comfort until she felt another contraction. Katie counted, and this one lasted for a good sixty seconds, causing her to swallow with worry. She couldn’t possibly be in full labour though, it was far too fast. Taking a deep breath, she lay still for a further ten minutes then another hit her and this time she was unable to stop the scream leaving her mouth as she bent her head forward then back against the rim of the bath.

Almost instantaneously, she heard heavy steps bounding up the stairs and the door to the bathroom opened.

“Sweetheart?” “Steve,” she looked at him, panic on her face, “That’s three in less than thirty minutes. I think we need to go.” “Alright, come on.” He nodded, walking across the room before he stopped dead as he glanced down into the bath, his eyes widening as he swallowed slightly.

“What…” Katie looked down and spotted the blood in the water, spreading like ribbons between her legs.

And then she started to panic.

“Oh God, Steve, there’s something wrong!” “Honey, look at me.” Steve knelt by the bath, hand on her face, trying to appear calm when he was anything but. “Let’s get you out and I’ll call Dr Kellet okay?”

“Okay.” Steve gently hooked his arms under her shoulders and easily lifted her out of the tub, wrapping her in a towel robe, just before another contraction hit her and she gripped at the sink for support, gritting her teeth, screaming in pain as he rubbed her back.

“This is too painful, it’s wrong.” She sobbed as Steve stood right by her side, his arm curved over her hips as he pulled his phone out of his pocket with his spare hand.

He scrolled through and found the number for Katie’s Ob-Gyn that had been programmed into his phone ready. Katie had insisted she wanted the woman was there for the birth, having been her doctor for years.

“Dr Kellet?” He cleared his throat. “It’s Steve Rogers…sorry to bother you, so late.” “It’s not a problem Mr Rogers.” She greeted him, “I’m assuming Mrs Rogers has gone into labour?”

But before Steve had even had a chance to explain what was going on, Katie gripped his arm.

“No,no, no!” She cried, her voice almost a plea of disbelief. “Steve, I need to push…”

His eyes widened.

“Ok I heard that.” Dr Kellet spoke calmly in his ear “Make her as comfortable as possible, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I’m only round the corner, lucky for you I’ve been out on another call.”

“Should I call an ambulance?” Steve gulped.

“I’ll do it.” The woman assured him. “Just as a standby, chances are that baby’s going to arrive before we can get her to the birthing centre though. You concentrate on your wife. I’ll see you shortly.” “Thank you.” He whispered as he put the phone down and turned to his wife who was now crying.

“Steve I don’t want my baby here.” She sobbed.

“Hey,” he soothed, his hands on her face. “Dr Kellet is on her way.”

“I need to go to the centre.” “Sweetheart, if we take you, chances are you’re gonna have her on the way.”

“But, something might go wrong and…”

“Look, it’s gonna be fine.” He assured her, not quite sure where his confidence was coming from as frankly he was anything but. However, he knew the more he panicked, the more she would so he had no alternative but to put a brave face on. “There’s an ambulance coming too, just in case we need it once she’s here.”

Katie refused to move from her spot in the bathroom, despite Steve’s best attempts. And the following seven minutes and thirty-four seconds that it took Dr Kellet to arrive were the longest of Steve’s life. When the buzzer to the gate finally sounded, he bounded down the stairs, helped the woman with her kit bag, and hastily led her straight up to the bathroom, leaving the gate and door open for the paramedics when she informed him they were approximately ten minutes behind her.

Katie was now screaming in pain as the Doctor knelt beside her, where she was still hovering over the sink.

“Mrs Rogers,” she told her calmly as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “I’m just going to take a look okay?” Katie nodded as Steve’s arm curled around her shoulder. After a few seconds the woman stood up.  

“Fully dilated and engaged.” She looked at Katie “This baby is on its way.”

“No I need to be at the centre!” Katie began to cry. “Mrs Rogers, trust me that is not an option.” The Doctor was firm but fair as she turned to Steve “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Straight across the hall, last door to your left.” Steve swallowed, his hand rubbing at Katie’s back as she screamed again.

“We need to get her led down before baby gets distressed.” The Doctor instructed, moving out of the room and picking up her kit bag. 

“Steve,” Katie turned to him as the Doctor hurried into their room, “Stevie, I’m scared.”

He didn’t need her to tell him that, he could see the fear in her eyes and it killed him. Not least because he was petrified himself. “I know, Honey.” He gave her a small smile, pressing a kiss to her head. “But Dr Kellet is here, it’ll be okay. Now, come on, let’s get you settled.”

He carried her into the bedroom where Dr Kellet had unpacked most of her equipment and was throwing a plastic sheet over their bed.

“I know this isn’t what you planned” She spoke to Katie gently as she screamed in pain again, Steve gently placing her on the bed.

“Why is it all so fast?” Katie gasped out. “I don’t…”

“You’re experiencing something called Precipitous labour.” The Doctor explained as Steve knelt on the floor besides her, taking her hand in his, the fingers of the other one brushing her hair off her face. “It’s rare but not completely unheard of. Just means things happen extremely quickly, that’s all.” Katie really didn’t care what it was called. All she knew was that the pain was excruciating. Worse than with Jamie, and she had no relief either. And she was done with trying to be brave.

“It hurts.” She sobbed, laying her head against the pillow, turning to face Steve who dropped a kiss to her forehead before her entire body tensed up as Dr Kellet knelt on the bed. “Oh God, I need to push this time, I really do.”

“Then go with it.” The doctor instructed and Steve kissed the back of his wife’s hand.

“I got you, I promise.” He looked at her, his eyes locking onto hers which were wide with fear. “You can do this, Sweetheart.” So she did, screaming as her tears freely flowed down her cheeks in a mix of agony and fear. She had neve felt pain like it, but all she could think about now was that their girl needed to arrive, safely, and to do that she had to fight through her own discomfort for her.

Three huge pushes later a piercing scream hit their ears and Katie collapsed back, and Steve felt pure relief flood over him as their tiny daughter was positioned on his wife’s chest, soft skin against hers through the top of her towel robe screaming as she nuzzled into her mother.

“Steve,” Katie managed to gasp, looking at him as he lay his head against hers, looking down at their baby girl, tears pouring down his face as he got a proper glance at his daughter for the first time.

“Shit, Katie, she’s just like you.” He stuttered, his large and shaking hand gently moving the top of Katie’s robe to gently run a finger down his baby girl’s cheek. She was smaller than Jamie had been, despite the fact he had been earlier, with a smattering of dark hair. Her eyes cracked open, a sliver of light baby blue peered up at them which caused Steve’s heart to swell even more, as their baby snuggled further into Katie’s chest and Katie dropped a tender kiss to her head.

“Hey, Princess.” Steve whispered, as he too pressed his lips to his daughter’s soft head, before he gave a little splutter of a chuckle. “You gave us a bit of a scare there!”

He looked at Katie, his eyes shining as he sniffed. “I’m so proud of you” He whispered softly, pressing his lips to hers, his voice cracking with emotion. “So fucking proud, Sweetheart. Look what you did.”

Katie gave a little emotional laugh, the pair of them lost in the moment, before a  loud shout from the Paramedics who had arrived cut across the room. Steve looked up and Dr Kellet held her hand up, instructing him to stay where she was before she headed down to greet them. A minute or so later, they walked into the room, giving Steve and Katie a small nod and a smile as Dr Kellet began talking them through what had happened, neither parent really paying attention.

Much to Katie’s chagrin, she released their daughter to Dr Kellet to be checked over whilst her own vitals were taken by the paramedics. Their precious baby was cleaned up and wrapped in a soft pink blanket that Steve pulled from the packed hospital bag and then, as the Paramedics moved away, Steve finally got a hold of his daughter for the first time, cradling her to his chest, looking down at her as her tiny fist raised by her face, her little mouth opening and closing slightly as she lay safely in her father’s arms.

Katie watched him, smiling as he was sporting the same adoring look on his face that he got every time he looked at Jamie. He glanced up and beamed at her, before Dr Kellet cleared her throat. 

“Does she have a name yet?” She asked gently, looking over at them from where she was tapping something on the tablet she had in her hand.

Steve and Katie smiled at each other. Oh, did she have a name, worthy of the Princess she was.

“I think the new baby should be called Nala.” Jamie nodded firmly, his mind made up.

“Let me guess, after the lion?” Steve looked at him, the boy’s Disney Film of choice at the moment was The Lion King. Jamie nodded.

“We’re not calling her Nala.” Katie shook her head, “Although there is another Disney character that has a name I like.” Steve looked at her “Really?”

“Yeah. Remember that night in Scotland when we took a midnight walk to see the Northern Lights?” Steve smiled, he remembered that night very well. And he knew instantly what name she was referring to. In fact, given the circumstances in which their baby had come back, he couldn’t think of anything more appropriate.

“Aurora.” Steve smiled softly, looking at the Doctor “Aurora Sarah Natasha Rogers.”

“Rori.” Katie looked at him, and he smiled again, before he turned his attention back down to their baby.

“The Goddess of Dawn.” Dr Kellet nodded, approvingly as she noted the name down. “Fitting.”

Which was exactly why they had chosen it. Aurora had come back to them, like daybreak always returned, no matter how long the night. It was the perfect name for their perfect little girl.

Steve smiled and spotted that Aurora was getting fidgety, exactly as Jamie had done, burying her face into his chest, rooting, so he passed her to Katie. Just like she had with Jamie, although this time she knew what she was doing she positioned her to her breast and the baby began to nurse as Steve settled on the bed next to her, watching as Aurora’s cheeks worked hungrily.

“Well the good news is both your vitals are strong so I think that we can say you’re okay to stay home.” The female paramedic spoke as she looked at Dr Kellet how nodded before she turned to Katie. 

“But you need to rest, Mrs Rogers. I didn’t want to worry you both before but Precipitous labour is extremely rare. In my twenty years of practicing I’ve only ever seen it four times now. You did amazingly well.”

“You’re bound to feel drained and extremely sore so rest up.” The Paramedic continued “The first signs of any problems, call us straight away.”

“I’ll see you out.” Steve smiled at them all. “You be okay here for a moment?” He looked at Katie.

She nodded, her eyes focussed completely on their daughter, and he kissed her head again before he slid off the bed, leaving Katie alone with her baby for the first time.

She felt drained, but also an overwhelming sense of happiness that it was over, and their baby was there safe and healthy. As she studied her baby some more, she saw that familiar Stark nose which was nudged against her breast as Rori fed, and she was hit by a sudden thought. Katie’s head turned sharply to the digital clock that was on the nightstand, and when realised it was, in fact, after midnight a wave of emotion washed over her and the tears slid freely down her face.

**** Outside Steve shook hands with both the Paramedics who gave him their congratulations, both stating it was an honour to meet him, before he tossed his hand at the ambulance as it drove off, and turned, helping the Dr Kellet load the bags into her car.

“Mr Rogers, it is imperative you keep an eye on your wife.” She looked at him as she closed the trunk to her BMW SUV. “That all happened so fast, her body won’t have had time to release the normal pain relieving endorphins that come with the natural cycles of labour.” Steve swallowed, a surge of affection and pride swilling round his chest before it dissipated into worry.

“But she’s okay? You said they both are, right?”

“Medically she’s fine, the baby is fine but that will have been extremely traumatic for your wife, and as painful as anything I can imagine.” Dr Kellet fished her keys out of her pocket. “She needs to rest. The Paediatrician will be along in the morning, I’ll sort all that out. In the meantime, any issues, no matter what time, hit 9-1-1 and give me a call. But for now, enjoy her and congratulations.” She shook his hand and he thanked her again before he hurried back inside. Once the door shut he leaned against it and let out a deep sigh. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how that had felt for Katie, it had been bad enough for him but, wow. Just when he thought she couldn’t possibly amaze him anymore…

He wiped his hand over his clammy brow, brushed the tear from his cheek that he hadn’t even realise he’d shed and took another deep breath and bounded back up the stairs to his wife and baby girl.

“Hey.” He smiled, before he frowned as he realised she was crying. He crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, reaching out to wipe the tears from her face. “What’s wrong, Doll?” “She was born after midnight.”

“Yeah, twenty three minutes past.” Steve looked at her, and then the realisation of what that meant hit Steve like a sledge hammer. 

“It’s the 29th.” He whispered. 

“Yeah, she has the same birthday as Tony.” Katie sniffed, her face breaking into a little smile.

“So she does.” Steve’s voice was choked with emotion, his eyes misting over. “And I’m sure he’s up there now mumbling something about her stealing his thunder.”

They sat in silence, Katie leaning her head on his shoulder as her sniffles and silent sobs subsided, Steve lost in his own thoughts about his Brother-in-law for a second. This was the first birthday, so to speak, that Tony wouldn’t be here to celebrate. And whilst Steve had known it was going to be an emotional day, they hadn’t banked on it being quite like this.

It was certainly bittersweet, but what a way to remember him.

Steve’s hand reached out, smoothing down the blanket Aurora was wrapped in. “She’s beautiful.” He whispered, kissing Katie’s head the pair of them simply watching their baby as she gave a milky little yawn, turning her head away from Katie’s breast.

“Has another girl stolen your heart Rogers?” She teased, looking at him as she gently rearranged the baby over her shoulder. “Your new princess?”

“Yes.” He deadpanned, and Katie chuckled as she gently rubbed at their baby’s back, before Steve tilted her face round to kiss him softly. “But you’ll always be my Queen.”

**** Of course, later on that morning, once Jamie and Emmy heard their sister had arrived they demanded to come home immediately. So Bucky and Sam did the honours, collecting Emmy from Brooke’s before bringing them both back to the house.

Jamie barrelled up the stairs where he was met by Steve at the top, his dad stopping him from bursting straight in the room to see his mom.

“You gotta be quiet and gentle okay?” Steve crouched down so he could look him in the eyes. “Momma’s had a hard time so she’s a little tired.”

Jamie nodded and Steve stood up, placing his hands on his son’s shoulders from behind as he steered him to the doorway, looking at Katie who smiled at them from where she was led on the bed, Aurora in her arms having just been fed again. Jamie walked into the room and climbed up onto the bed as Emmy stopped by Steve in the doorway.

“Are they both okay?” Emmy asked quietly and Steve pulled her in for a hug and chuckled.

“All fine, go ahead, go meet your sister.”

“She’s all pink.” Jamie peered down at the baby, wrinkling his nose.

“So were you.” Katie chuckled, kissing his head before she smiled up at her daughter. 

“Mom, she’s beautiful.” Emmy whispered, her eyes swimming with tears. “Can I hold her?”

“Sure.” Katie smiled, and gently Emmy took her baby sister in her arms, holding her safely as she smiled down at her little face.

Hey Rori!” Emmy beamed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As Steve watched his family from the doorway, a warmth swimming in his chest, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned, suddenly finding himself in a huge back-slapping, rib crushing embrace from Bucky, before Sam stepped forward, to do the same.

“Congratulations, Punk.” Bucky smiled at him and Steve beamed, taking a deep breath.

“Come on, you can say hi to your goddaughter, guys.” Steve wiped his eyes as Bucky hastily did the same, before the three men stepped into the room. 

Bucky leaned over to give Katie a kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations.” He smiled as he stepped back, his hand gently cupping her face as she smiled back at him, before he was jostled out of the way by Sam who bend to give her a huge hug.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked, pressing a kiss to Katie’s head.

“A little sore and tired but I’m good.” She beamed, her eyes straying to Bucky who was now peering down at Aurora.

“Wow, she’s gorgeous.” Bucky beamed, before he looked at Steve. “You sure she’s yours?”

Steve narrowed his eyes as Sam gave a huge guffaw of laughter, Katie shaking her head as she chuckled. 

“You wanna hold, Uncle Buck?” Emmy asked and Bucky hesitated a little, and Katie didn’t miss the way his metal hand fisted nervously.

“Buck,” She spoke and he turned to face her, swallowing and she nodded. “It’ll be fine.”

Tentatively, Bucky moved and nodded, as Emmy placed Aurora in his arms, a little gasp escaping his mouth as he held her securely, beaming down at her face. He glanced up at Steve who smiled back at him, before Bucky’s attention turned completely back to the tiny human he held. 

Eventually, Sam got a hold too, commenting on how like Katie she looked already, before Jamie let out an exasperated sigh from where he sat cuddled up to his mom.

“Can I hold her now?” He demanded impatiently, as he sat up, his arms folded over his chest in a move that made him look even more ridiculously like his father.

“Course you can, buddy.” Steve smiled, moving towards the bed. He propped a few pillows behind Jamie so he was sat up against the head board before he scooted in, and placed his left arm round his son. Sam gently placed Aurora into Jamie’s arms and she lay there, her head supported in the crook of Steve’s elbow as he helped his son hold her. 

Steve glanced up and shared a look with his wife as she smiled at him and he gave a swallow as he looked round he room before turning his attention to his boy who was now holding his baby sister, grinning down at the newest addition to their family.

To Steve, it was almost unbelievable, and overwhelming even, when he thought back to how this had all stared in a small, run down gym in Brooklyn. Where Katie Stark had walked into Steve Rogers’ life, across the warn linoleum floor and never left. No matter what the world had thrown at them, they had overcome every goddamned obstacle and Steve loved her now more than he had ever believed possible.

She was his wife, the love of his life, his baby momma, the person he had sacrificed fifteen years alone for.

The woman he would die for in a heartbeat.

His home, his world, his forever. 

******* If you’d like to keep in touch with the Rogers’ family, their adventures continue in  Stark Spangled Forever

 **Original Posting**

[buckysgoldenheart]

Unexpectedly Bitten

Vampire!Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Your ex gets into some trouble with Vampires, and his mistakes lead the bloodsuckers back to you. After seeing you, one vampire gets a little attached and he’s taking his time deciding what he plans to do with you, but whatever it is, you’re not afraid. In fact, you might just be a little attached to him too.

Warnings: cursing, smut, violence. (Count on spelling mistakes or repeating words too often. it’s very likely.)

Notes: Folks I did my very very best. I am so bad at chaptered fics, it’s insane. But I tried. As always,  Let me emphasize this: there is little rhyme or reason to the way this story is broken into parts.

This is a Vampire!Henry x Reader story where each chapter, while chronological, is a different conversation or event during the course of their evolving relationship.

p.s if anyone knows the maker of these gifs let me know and i will give credit.

Words: 1628

Part 4: Heartbeat

Henry had agreed to entertain you for the night, waiting a few hours before he left again to find bodies. You played cards, having nothing else to do, and chuckled when neither of you could figure out who was worse at the game. You’d shown him a new one; one your mother taught you that you never developed the skill for but thought Henry might find amusing. And he did, though he had a hard time understanding it. But you were just happy to have him around with a smile on his face rather than the more recent stressed out scowl.

“This game makes no sense,” Henry joked as he tossed his losing hand on the table.

“Not according to my mother, but she’s dead now, so unfortunately we won’t ever get private lessons.”

Henry’s smile dropped at your words and you instantly regretted them. “How did she die?”

“Um,” Your eyebrows pinched as you recalled the day you were left alone in a life where you already had little. “Bad deal with a witch.”

“A witch? Where did she even find one?”

“She heard the whispers and went where the rumors claimed,” You said, fiddling with the stacked deck. “My dad had died, and she thought a deal with a witch for his soul would be smarter than going to a demon.”

“I’m sorr—” Henry began, but paused the instant Chris barged into the dining room. His fingers tugged at his blond hair.

“What?” Henry asked just as a knock sounded at the front door.

“Elec.”

Henry’s shoulders tensed as he stood so fast the table nudged, and when you did the same, walking to him, you couldn’t help but notice how he slightly pushed you behind the wall of his body. “Now?”

“I saw him at the gate,” Chris looked from Henry to you and back, and answered the unspoken question hanging between them with a shake of his head. “There’s no time, Hen. He’ll smell her after the hours you’ve been in this room. Y/N,” He calmly said to you, “Keep your mouth shut, ok?”

You nodded, then jumped at the rumbling knock that had Chris heading out of the dining room to the front door a few yards away, you and Henry trailing behind. “It’ll be fine,” Henry said, but you weren’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

Chris opened the door with a deep breath and moved aside to allow a vampire, black-haired and red-eyed, to step into the entryway. He was built smaller than Henry or Chris, decorated in what appeared to be modernized attire from the 1800s, and had a confident smirk on his face that made your stomach turn. He opened his mouth to speak, but a quick scan of the room and a sniff halted him, and his blazing eyes connected with yours instantly as if you had some beacon above your head.

“Human,” The small vampire said, acknowledging your presence without shock or concern. Almost as if you were just an inanimate decoration in the corner of the room.

Henry moved a little more in front of you when he sensed you flinch from behind.

“And it’s still alive, how interesting.” Elec’s boney hand reached out. “Come here, pet.”

“Back off Elec, she’s Henry’s,” Chris said before Henry could let out a defensive growl.

“Why can’t we share the feast?” He said, never breaking his stare from your face. “I’ve come quite a long way, and we always used to share. It’s the least you could do for a member of the Lord’s court. Unless…” He grinned at Henry, long fangs poking out. “Unless you’ve become one of those vampires who fucks their food before they eat it.” He placed his scarlet glare on you again. “Though you are a pretty thing, aren’t you? I’d have you myself if you were like us.”

“She wouldn’t want you.” Henry snapped.

Elec rose an onyx eyebrow. “So, not only fucking his next meal, but very protective of it too.”

“What have you come for, Elec?” Chris asked, attempting to draw his attention away. “You haven’t visited alone in years.”

“Just thought I’d stop by, see some old friends, reminisce a bit…maybe share a delectable, little meal,” He wet his lips, “But since I am so blatantly unwelcome, I’ll share the bit of news I have for you and go.”

Henry ticked his jaw. “And that would be?”

“As the newly appointed hand of the Lord, I am here to inform you he will be here in seven days. Make your preparations. And be sure to eat her before he comes, or she will be taken as an offering,” He said, nudging his head in your direction.

Henry looked as if to protest, but before he could, Chris said, “Understood.”

“Good,” Elec spun on his heal, but stopped just before passing the threshold, turned his head to the side and said, “Be sure not to get attached to it, Hen. Think of the trouble it’d cause,” Then, “See you in a week, gentlemen.”

Elec stepped out into the night, blending in with the darkness as Chris shut the door.

“Do you think he’ll tell him?” Henry asked Chris, the grip on your arm you hadn’t noticed before now, tightening.

Chris rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know.”

------

“Henry…” You began, watching him stare into space. He’d dragged you into his room after Elec left as if the space between the dining room and the front door was now tainted with bad energy. “What he said--”

“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter,” He replied without looking your way. “You won’t ever see him again.”

“You’re worried.”

“It’s fine, Lamb, ok? I promise.” He wasn’t trying to snap at you; you could tell by the way he winced when it was too late to take the words back, but he was distraught and couldn’t contain it.

You stood from the bed and made your way over, reaching for this hand. He flinched unexpectedly when you touched him, like he had been in his own little world and the bubble surrounding him popped when he felt your skin on his. He met your eyes. “Thank you,” You said, lightly squeezing his fingers. “For defending me.”

He’d been cryptic after the day Elec visited; not answering the questions that would help to fill the blank spaces in your mind. But you needed those answers, at least for your sanity.

The worry he failed to hide from you momentarily melted away. He raised his other hand to your face and cupped your jaw, rubbing his thumb along its edge. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

‐----------------

You were too determined to find them that it distracted you from the book in your lap, and by the tenth time you’d reread the same sentence, you gave up. You stood, threw the book in the unoccupied chair with a little too much ferocity, then marched your way back to the spare room he was sleeping in while you stayed in his. You didn’t even think on it, didn’t consider what he could be doing, so when you shoved the door open without knocking, you immediately regretted it.

His hair was freshly damp, his body covered in little water droplets that traced the curves of his muscles as gravity pulled them down, with a towel barely held around his hips by one hand. He paused when he saw you and his lips parted in surprise, much like your own.

The flush of your cheeks matched the heat that now flowed through your veins at the sight of him. “Um…” You swallowed. “I—"

Henry sharply inhaled, but it was loud enough to shut you up and soak the room in silence, until he said “I can hear your heart beating,” His eyebrows briefly knitted together in a twitch of shock and confusion.

He wasted no time walking towards you, making you back up until you had nowhere to go. Bright, blue eyes never left yours, and when you were good and trapped, Henry dropped the towel without a care so he could place his hands on the wall either side of your body. You didn’t dare break his stare or try to run.

“It’s pumping awfully fast, Lamb,” He whispered with a twinge of awe.

“You’re…naked.”

“Mhmm.” He glanced at your lips and removed one hand from the wall so his fingers could graze along your cheek and jaw before settling at the curve of your neck. He didn’t seem to worry the way you did over his lack of clothes. It seemed to be the last thing he cared to waste a thought over, like it was the least important detail in what was happening between the two of you now.

“So that’s—” You swallowed. “I mean—"

“If you’re scared,” He moved closer, “Then don’t look down.”

“Of course I’m not scared of you.” You said so softly it was almost a whisper, suddenly unable to look away from the hypnotic way his lips moved when he spoke only to you.

“No. Just of parts of me.” He smirked.

“I’m not scared of any bit of you.” You tore your eyes away and met his own again. “But I need to know what’s happening. After everything, I still don’t know what you want.”

Delicately, he trailed his fingers up and down the length of your neck, stopping only to savor feel of your pulse. “Little Lamb, I thought…I thought if you knew what I wanted, you would run for the fucking hills, but,” He paused, slipping his hand under the neckline of your shirt to place his palm over your thumping heart. “Maybe you wouldn’t.”

---

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[imagine-that-one-thing]

Her Majesty || 21

Vola con le proprie ali.

Anastasia.

The tour has been brilliant. Everyone has been polite and understanding, not to mention welcoming. I have never felt more at ease while on a Royal duty. This is the first Royal event that has gone effortlessly and smoothly. At least, so far.

When I haven't been around people or doing Royal visits, I have been texting Harry, checking on him and getting caught up to date with everything happening at the palace.. It has been strange not having him around. I have missed his excellent morning kisses and his company. Hotel rooms can be lonely late at night in new cities I have visited many times.

Today I opened up a new hospital and had the honour of cutting the ribbon before I was invited to a small vineyard for some wine tasting. It was beautiful and quite relaxing; I'd even say it made me feel normal for a few minutes.

The car door opens, and I carefully step out, adjusting my dress and thanking the gentleman. I turn and wait for Matthew as he slides out of the car. I have grown accustomed to waiting on Matthew to escort me into hotels or venues. "Go ahead, Anastasia," Matthew gestures. I frown for a moment, but I turn on my heel and look towards the hotel steps.

I take a double look, and my eyes grow wide with excitement, "Harry?" I smile, racing up the stairs as he stands at the top. Finally, I reach him, and he wraps his arm around me, holding me close.

"Hi, my love," Harry greets, kissing the top of my head.

I benevolently pull away and beam up at him, "I thought you couldn't fly?"

"I drove," Harry smiles, leaning down and kissing my lips kindly before drawing me in closer and kissing me deeper.

Oh, I have missed the kisses and sweet moments of heart flutters.

We pull away, beaming at each other as we stand on the steps. "Keep it PG, kids. There are paps," Matthew gestures towards the few cameramen that have been camping outside the last two days. I am not sure what their reasoning is. I don't think my photos of entering a hotel are interesting, but the media seem to enjoy my company. I have never really been around the press much. They have always been more interested in my mother and father. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, I have become their primary focus. I find it hard to understand how the public love photos of me doing mundane things.

"Missed you too, pal," Harry jokes, taking my hand before we wander into the hotel.

"I haven't missed you, Harry," Matthew responds, "You have two hours before your event. Please remember the walls are paper-thin, and I'm right next to your room," Matthew informs me, gesturing for Harry and me to step into the elevator.

Harry chuckles, "Don't worry, I'll be quiet, Matthew," Harry teases Matthew, and I mildly nudge him, "Oh, still sensitive," Harry playfully whines, adjusting his sling.

"So, you drove all those hours for me?"

Harry shakes his head, "No, baby, I drove it for Matthew, my true love, and the wine," Harry sarcastically responds, causing Matthew to shake his head and huff. Deep down, I am sure Matthew loves our company.

"You make me regret my decision of letting you come," Matthew mutters, "I'll put you on duty if you don't stop."

Harry chuckles, "Ah, I'm technically not allowed to be on her service," Harry grins, "Doctors orders." Harry continues as the elevator door opens. Harry has not been cleared yet to return to his job thoroughly. He has been on desk duties when expected work. I can only imagine he has been bored out of his brain while on desk duties.

The three of us step out into the hallway and lead down the long-drawn hall to our separate rooms. Harry shifts my hand away from the door, pushing down on the handle and opening the door, allowing me to step in first.

The door closes behind him, and I turn on my heel to face him, my arms snaking around his neck, "Hi," I breathe out with a smile, his hand resting in the small of my back.

"Hi, my darling," Harry whispers, leaning down and kissing me sweetly, his lips touching mine, reminding me how much I have missed this. I deepen the kiss and deliberately push my body up against his, causing a groan to escape his lips.

It has been long enough.

He breaks our kiss and draws away for a brief moment, reaching his hand to stretch his sling over his head and throw it to the floor. He takes me by surprise when he urges me against the wall, propelling his body against mine, resting his lips on the slender column of my neck. I tilt my head to the side, enabling the kisses to raise my fevered skin, the longing of anticipation seething within me as he bites down benevolently before letting go, making sure not to leave a visible mark.

God forbid the Queen has any mark on her. It would be scandalous if they knew I had sex in my spare time.

We dance around the room, eagerly working to feel each other and find our way to the bed, longing for anticipation settling between us.

I fall to the bed, his body between my legs as he kisses my exposed skin, gracing my neckline, collarbone and the parts of my boobs the dress doesn't cover,

Harry sighs as he draws away, "I'm sorry," he breathes, struggling to hold himself up as he hovers over me, his arm shaking.

I can recognise the discomfort in his eyes, as much as I want him to pleasure me in every way possible, and as much as I want his necklace to dangle across my fevered skin, I will not allow him to do all the work when he physically cannot. I shake my head, and I tenderly clasp my hand to his chest, "Swap," I command, pushing on his chest and moving my body. He frowns for a moment before listening.

Harry rests on the edge of the bed, and I caress my knees to either side of his hips, my hands clasped to his shoulders. I lean down and welcome him with an open-mouthed kiss, my hair tumbling over my shoulders as his hands squeeze to my hips to maintain my balance.

My hands travel to his shirt, and I begin to gradually unbutton the buttons, one by one revealing his tanned skin before tugging it from his pants and forcing it to fall down his shoulders and out of my way. "I intended to please you," Harry whispers, and I bring my hand to rest under his chin.

I cock my head to the side and gaze at him, "You are," I assure him, "Undo your pants," I instruct, taking bold possession of his mouth, enabling myself to taste the walls of his mouth.

He does as I have instructed, wasting no time with unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, leaning back slightly when I encompass my hands down his torso, exploring every dip and muscle the man has to offer. "Mmm, no," he takes my hands, lifting them from his body. "Not yet," he mumbles against my lips, shifting my hands to my side.

He glides his hand up my thigh, bunching my dress as he goes along, driving it further and further up my leg before settling at my underwear. Next, he glides his finger along the thin material that holds at my hip, following it along the waistband. I observe his fingers curl under the material at my stomach, and immediately I welcome my head, wanting to spin. "To come off or to push to the side?" He teases, influencing his fingers to the sides before spreading the length of his finger across me, causing a moan to befall from my lips.

There's a yearning sensation making itself known with every subtle stroke he makes against the material, causing my kisses to get deeper and my hands struggle to seize themselves from roaming his body. Then, finally, he decides to delicately slide the underwear down my thighs, requiring me to move my legs to slide them off and settle them to the floor entirely.

I reposition myself on him, and he glances at me with a grin, his eyes glowing with anticipation. He again shifts my dress up my thigh, his hand ever so nonchalantly gliding up my inner thigh. I feel my body twitch the higher he gets, the anticipation enthralling me by the second. I drag away from the kiss and tilt my head back the second I welcome him glide his finger against me before sliding it in, beginning to move in circular motions while his thumb presses against my nerves, slowly rubbing the area. His other hand slips under my dress and unhooks my bra, giving him easy access to squeezing my boob, tampering with my sanity more.

My breath gets heavier with each stroke, and I discover myself rolling my hips against his circular motions, my eyes wanting to close to half mask, but I stop them. My moans turn to gasps the faster he gets, his agile fingers working their magic in every damn way possible. I can feel my legs getting shaky and my body wanting to squirm against him.

I lean forward and begin to kiss him, my hands rubbing through his hair, his free hand gripping my hip to stop my squirms, "Hold on," he whispers as I move my hands to his shoulders, squeezing tightly, feeling the digging waves coming at me.

I whisper nonsense in his ear, squirming under his touch, "Right there," I breathe out, my toes curling as I lean back and arch my back, better accepting what he's offering. His strokes become deeper, and I swallow hard at his twisting fingers, getting me closer and closer to orgasm.

The sound of a knock on the door reverberates in my ears, and my mouth drops, my head falling in the same motion. "Please," I whisper, feeling the erotic and hypnotic power falling over me.

"Go away!" Harry calls out as I squirm against him, my fingers digging into his shoulders before he slides his fingers out, and I stare at him with a wide mouth.

"I was so close," I whisper, almost pitifully and painfully.

He gives me a wink before gesturing towards his lap with his eyes, his hands positioning on my hips as I thoroughly lower down onto his package, adjusting to his growth, my hips rolling in a slow motion, the two of us working together.

The climax comes at me with digging waves, and I fall into him, his arm keen to wrap around me as my thighs quiver from being clamped at his hips and the narcotic sensations. He spreads his fingers through my hair, my breathing levelling out as we both begin to come off the high.

A knock at the door sounds again, and I lift my head to look at Harry, "Go away," Harry again calls, but the knocking persists. "Fuckin' hell," he mutters as I gingerly pull out from him. He moves our positions and flips me onto the bed before standing to his feet and pulling his pants back up.

I adjust my dress so I am covered, and I lay on the bed, watching him stroll towards the door, irritated at the inconvenience— something we ought to be used to by now. "The Queen is busy. When someone says go away, it means to go away."…. "She is asleep. Please let her rest," I overhear part of the conversation before the door closes and he comes towards me. He crawls onto the bed and hovers over me for a minute, leaning down and kissing me benevolently before falling beside me, wrapping his arm around me and tugging me closer to him. Our legs tangle within each other's, and we fill the moment with sweet kisses before he's playing with my hair and smiling at me. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you," I whisper, "Round two?" I question, admiring him in every single way possible.

"Eager for me, ay?"

I nod my head, "Been weeks."

"Been too long," Harry agrees, kissing me deeply….

♛ ♛ ♛

I clasp my hands against my body, smoothing out my gown, anxiously drawing at it in an attempt to focus on things other than my thoughts. Then, finally, I lift my head, glancing over at the man I fall in love with each day. He is calm and collected; he's like a gentle breeze on an autumn day, comfortable, peaceful, and assuring. For him, it's just another night draped in a suit where he has to stroll around and pretend to like the interaction of other humans. I know he doesn't desire to attend noble events, and I know he is doing it because he isn't permitted to participate as my security guard.

The monarchy, to my surprise, hasn't annihilated his spirits. I imagined the sovereignty and marrying me would divulge him. It hasn't. He stands tall, unphased by the shit that has succumbed. He is strong-willed, more potent than I most of the time. Harry indeed has been a breath of fresh air amongst the disorder, he retains me on my toes, and at moments he makes me enraged, but he holds me together at the end of the day.

The monarchy may never be peaceful as long as I rule, I may always have people fighting against me and a corrupt government as long as I reign, but I don't want that to be my downfall.

There is a part of me that never wants to have children. I don't want to bear children into the world of a royal. The monarchy destroyed me in many ways, ways that I don't wish on my worst enemy.

I found love, I got lucky, but I don't want the story to end here. The notion of baring an heir is scary for numerous reasons, but do I want to live a life without the vibration of children laughing through the palace and keeping Harry on his toes?

Do I want more?

I'm obliged to have an heir, but do I want to?

Does Harry want an heir?

Harry pours himself a drink from the drink decanter, swirling the liquor in his glass before taking a sip and exhaling a content sigh, "Mmm, perfect," Harry hums with delight. He has been looking forward to that drink since the moment he arrived here in Italy with me. He is here as a husband and has been told he is only the security guard for brief moments when Matthew is not beside me.

"You shouldn't be drinking that." I point to the drink.

"I shouldn't do a lot of things," Harry shrugs, not too concerned about the fact he shouldn't have alcohol so soon after his surgery. It has been two weeks, but I still believe he should be resting and taking it easy. But, then again, what we did earlier also shouldn't have been done either.

"I have a question." I softly speak.

"And I have an answer," Harry nods, swirling his drink in his hand.

I grow silent for a moment, my words becoming stuck in my throat. “Darling, what is it?” Harry asks, leaning against the small bar, admiring his drink before looking over at me with an endearing smile.

"Should we have a baby?" I softly ask.

Harry's eyes grow, and he chokes on his liquor, spitting half of it out. He places his glass down on the glass cart and grabs a napkin, dabbing his lips and pressing his shirt as he tries to catch back his breath.

"You're going to open your wound!" I scold, forcing him to stand up straight by pressing my hands to his chest as he winces in some pain.

Harry stops coughing from his liquor and clears his throat, "You're going to give me more wounds by asking such questions. No, Anna, we shouldn't," Harry breathes out.

I'm not entirely surprised by his response. I didn't expect him to choke on his drink, but I did expect him to say no.

I glance down, unsure of how to respond. I hadn't gotten this far when I thought about the approach.

Harry adjusts himself with a slight wince before composing himself and adjusts his sling, "Anastasia," Harry begins, but I shake my head.

"I get it; you don't want to have kids."

"No," Harry shakes his head, "That is not the case. Let me speak," Harry softens his eyes, "You have said yourself you don't want to bring kids into this monarchy, and I think it's perilous to do so right now and a bad idea."… "And I look like the asshole in this situation, fucking hell," Harry mutters. "Is this what you want? A baby?"… "I'll give you what you want."

I don’t want him to give me a baby because it’s what I want. So this isn’t something that can be based on me.

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, "We have been married for almost a year." I point out.

It hasn’t been an easy year or a conventional one. We didn’t get our honeymoon, our first dance or anything traditional. We haven’t had time to discuss our marriage or children. Do we want children?

"That doesn't define whether we have to have a kid right now or not. So I'm asking if it's what you want."

"I don't know. I don't know, Harry," I stutter, "I just— never mind." I shake my head, "Forget I said anything."

"Anna," Harry begins, but he stops as he notices someone walking into the tearoom. I look over my shoulder and see a man dressed in a suit. "Can we discuss this later? In private?" Harry offers, and I nod my head.

I don’t want anyone hearing our conversation; it’s nobody’s business what we do.

"The car is waiting, Her Majesty," the man announces, and Matthew walks in behind him.

I thank the man and look at Harry, unsure whether he still wants to attend this event with me, "I'll meet you in the car. I need to change my shirt," Harry informs me, eyeing Matthew for him to take his stance beside me. Matthew and Harry have an unspoken dialogue that only they can understand. One glare from either of them can mean so much.

I nod and proceed to walk with Matthew, doing my best not to adjust the tiara that feels as though it is pulling at my hair. However, I show no restraint and begin to adjust the tiara, huffing as it pulls my hair further before Matthew swats my hands away from my tiara. "Leave it alone."

"You sound like my father," I chuckle.

"If you keep playing with it, it'll fall off."

I heavily sigh and continue to walk, fighting every urge to adjust the damn thing. "Are you happy to have Harry around?"

"I am. I'm glad he has joined me for a few days."

It has been far too long without having him around. Phone calls and texts haven't been sufficient enough; however, it isn't his fault. Harry and I haven't travelled apart often since he joined the team. He has been with me ninety per cent of the time and has only missed a few occasions. He has attended every tour with me, and not having him on this one has been a bit strange. I haven't had anyone make fun of some of the ridiculousness we go through. I haven't had anyone nudge me in awkward situations or whisper things in my ear. I have been strictly doing things on my own, and it has been weird. I've missed the small comments and the hand gestures; I've missed the glances and the smiles. Most of all, I've missed his reassurance when I'm nervous or anxious. I've missed him nodding his head and mouthing, I love you right before I have to make a speech. I've missed him grabbing me when in private and giving me a quick kiss to congratulate me. I've missed it all. I never realised how much he showed he loved me with small gestures until now— now that I haven't had them.

Don't get me wrong, Matthew has kept me company, but it's different.

I sit in the limo with a glass of wine— the wine that I swear is the best wine I have ever tasted. It goes down smooth and has a sweet taste to it. If I don't stop drinking, I'll end up wine drunk. The door opens, and Harry steps in, sitting down on the leather seat beside me. "Starting early," Harry smiles, kissing my cheek while Matthew closes the door and taps the top of the limo with his hand, signalling for the driver to start driving.

I hand Harry the glass, but he shakes his head, "Can't have any more alcohol, Matthew will kill me, and so will the Royal doctor who's up my ass," Harry informs me, politely handing me back the glass. "Tell me again, what are we attending?"

"It's a State Banquet in honour of me. So the Italian President insisted."

"Right," Harry nods, adjusting his sling, "And what's the point of this?" He doesn't sound too enthused.

"Well, as you know, the point of tours is the national importance the hosting government would like to draw attention to. So I'm strengthening the ties we have here and drawing attention to the organisation the President needs."

"So, you're being used?" He isn't impressed.

"Well," I begin, "There's mutual agreement. It helps the United Kingdom, too. The key moments are either directly or indirectly related to the Crown."

Harry nods his head and offers me a smile, "I'm proud of you, Anna."… "You have done such a wonderful job this tour."

"How do you know?" I ask, "I'm not trying to be rude by asking."

"Matthew fills me in, and the media has been boasting about you. So has the private secretaries, program and logistics coordinators. Everyone has said how well you have done."

I take a sip of my wine to conceal my smile. But, of course, I have done well. I am my father's daughter. "Thank you. It has been a bit weird without you around, though."

"The Palace has been very boring without you," Harry responds, "Oliver and I walk through the gardens just to try and pass the time. Walked every trail."

"Awe, you missed me," I gently nudge Harry.

Harry shakes his head with a chuckle escaping his lips, "I said no such thing." Harry grins just as the limo comes to a stop. "Baby," Harry whispers, turning his body to face me fully. He places his hand on my neck and gently pulls me closer, pressing his lips against mine and kissing me softly and sweetly. Then, Harry gently pulls away, and I smile at him, his eyes full of love. "I have missed you, and I love you."

"I love you," I respond, leaning forward and kissing him.

No matter how well I have done on this tour, no matter how many hearts I have captured and the public's support I have, it all means nothing to me. My world goes beyond the monarch's success; the monarchy is not my main concern. There is so much hatred and distrust, dissolution, broken battles and evil ties— and I don't want that to be a part of who I am as a Queen or as a woman in society. My role isn't discerned by how well I charm the public or how I address the nation with speeches, but by how I love, how I love myself and others. I don't want to rule with an iron fist; I want to lead with compassion, emotion, happiness and love.

***

I stroll around the event, speaking to everyone who wishes to come up to me, making sure to introduce them to Harry, my husband. I believe it is time he is presented as more than my security detail or boyfriend. I've waited long enough and think it's wonderful to confirm he is my husband. Of course, it is nobody's business how, when or why we got married in secret, but I don't wish to continue to keep him a secret. The public already knows we are together, and I believe other royals and government officials are fine to know he is my husband.

Harry isn't too imbued with the event, he stays by my side and endeavours to be polite with conversations, but he isn't much of a talker. On the other hand, I presume he appreciates being a security detail for the very purpose he doesn't have to speak to anyone unless he's telling them to leave me alone.

"You alright?" I challenge as I take another glass of wine from a waiter and gaze at Harry, who's adjusting his sling.

"Yes."

"Are you in pain? We can leave."

Harry shakes his head, "We are not leaving, but you can't get wine drunk until we get back to the hotel," Harry informs me, "I don't care, but I don't think it'll be a good look for the Queen to be drunk." Finally, Harry points out the fact I am on my third glass of wine.

The wine keeps me calm while I fly solo; wine is how I have survived the tour on my own.

"I'm not a lightweight."

"I've seen you drink," Harry laughs, "And the wine here isn't the shit we have at home; you're going to end up drunk."

I heavily sigh and deliver Harry my glass, "Fine, but I expect a glass when I get to the hotel."

"I'll make sure of it," Harry nods, "The prime minister or whatever he is, is gesturing for you," Harry flicks his head towards the President of Italy.

Harry and I both step closer, and Harry shakes his hand, "I believe I am to courtesy to you," the President shakes his head, respectfully curtsying to both of us. "And as much as I like you, His Majesty, I'd like to speak with Her Majesty, alone."

Harry gazes at me, waiting for my approval. I take a moment, my stomach inflating with butterflies. I'm not sure what he'd want to discuss with me alone, but I can only imagine it can't be good. My father never told me what to do when it came to such an invitation.

I nod my head, and Harry respects my response, "As you wish," Harry accepts, leaning closer to kiss my cheek before moving his lips to my ear, "I'll be watching, if you need me, you know what to do." Harry whispers, reassuring me that even though I'll be alone, he will follow until Matthew comes back to my service.

The President and I move outside into the crisp air, the gardens of his estate being beautiful and charming.

"As one sovereign to another, I advise you to be careful, Parliament may be strong, but you and your husband are stronger, don't be naive, Her Majesty. Not even I deal with your Parliament. Your Parliament is going to destroy you. Your father and I have discussed this many times." The man begins as we exercise across the grey pavement, the hosting building on my left and a stunning terrace on my right. "It is about time you are made aware of the fact other sovereigns don't care for your parliament."

"What do you know about parliament?" I question, unsure of how profoundly my father has spoken to other officials. "Was my father trying to make allies?"

"Do you think he'd have been where he was if he didn't form allies?"

"Considering where he is now, I think it's safe to say making allies didn't help him," I respond.

"Anastasia, if people pull away from the sovereign, you will be left with nothing; the Crown cannot stand on its own. You will lose power the longer you have your government." The President informs me of what I already apprehend. Without the backing of other countries, I will falter. The monarch stands on its own two feet, but the allies are what make us more substantial.

"How do I get rid of them? They have become dangerous. They hold their position through default and sinister ties."

"Dissolve Parliament."

"I have thought about that, Harry and I have discussed it."… "The last time a monarch dissolved Parliament was in 1830, and a decision to do so today would most likely be hugely unpopular with the citizenry." I bring to the attention that dissolving parliment has not happened recently. It is frowned upon these days.

“Dissolve it, Annastasia. And officially open Parliament to commence the Parliamentary year. Then work on your Prime Minister." The President instructs, "I say this because I know you have not been guided. Your father wouldn't want you dealing with this."

"There is a strong constitutional convention that the Queen should be kept out of politics. I cannot do much when it comes to Pippa."

"You are wrong," He shakes his head, "There are ways around it; dissolve your Parliament and reelect, then work on Pippa. Your father only kept Pippa around because of a contract."

"Is that contract void?" I softly ask, already knowing my answer.

He shakes his head, "No, but you will find a way to work around it. If you are smart, you will dissolve before it is too late."

I understand what I have to do, but I am not sure I have the endowment to do this on my own two feet. My father didn't equip me for these varieties of things. I preferred things when Harry had the Crown and was advancing the decisions behind closed doors. He executes a more competent ruler than I.

"Parliament killed my father, didn't they?" I softly request.

"I promised Harry I would not speak of your father's murder."

"You have spoken to Harry?" I immediately question, astonished to hear that Harry has spoken to the Italian officials about my father.

"There is a saying in this country, 'A buon intenditor, poche parole.'"… "Do you understand?"

I shrug my shoulders, "Few words to the wise."

He nods his head, "This saying indicates that when someone is smart and intuitive, they do not need many explanations to understand something."

I nod my head, realising what he is attempting to say, "A volte è Meglio stare con le mani in mano e non fare nulla?" I ask.

"Correct, sometimes it is best to sit on your hands and do nothing. So sit on your hands and let Harry do what he is doing."… "Our time is up. You need to go back to Matthew," He motions towards Matthew, who is standing, watching me intently, Harry right beside him. "You have some powerful leaders backing you if you dissolve, we can discuss once you are in London, now go," he commands, caressing a glass to his lips and wandering away from me, leaving me alone as I watch him fall off into a small crowd of minglers while he enters the building.

Harry makes his way to me, "You alright?" Harry immediately challenges, and I nod my head.

"I can't believe you left her alone," Matthew comments, not appearing satisfied with Harry.

Harry shrugs his shoulders, "Vola con le proprie all." Harry effortlessly speaks, causing me to smirk.

"Okay, that isn't fair. You know I am still learning Italian, you shithead," Matthew grumbles.

I chuckle, and Harry grins, "She flies with her own wings," Harry continues, "She was fine. I was watching. I'm not that much of a moron."

"That is still up for the jury to decide," Matthew laughs.

"Matthew, may I speak with Harry?" I softly challenge.

Matthew raises a brow but concedes, "Five minutes and then you better be inside, and no kissing, seen enough of it," Matthew warns with a slight grin to his lips.

Mathew leaves Harry and me alone, "What's wrong, Anna?"

I shake my head and grant him a smile, "I just want a minute to sit before going back to being a Royal." I inform him, advancing towards the concrete wall separating us from the garden and assembling on it. I breathe in the cooler air of the evening, adjusting the straps of my dress so they stay situated on my shoulders. "You know, this tour has been good to me. I've done so well even without you here."

"That's because you don't need me to govern, Anna. You're stalwart on your own. I wish you'd realise that."

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, "I like the notion of having someone to fall back on. You're my safety blanket."

"I know, but your safety blanket can't be around all the time," Harry returns, perching beside me and adjusting his tie. "You don't need anyone to rule. You don't require Pippa or me. You don't even need Louis, baby. You're the leader. You know what you're doing, have faith and confidence."

"Bit hard when I feel lost, the Italian President doesn't even like my government… That says a lot," I inform Harry, "Besides the point… I've done so well and yet here I am sitting here unsure whether I'm doing things right."

"Self-doubt kills a lot, don't let it kill you, Anna. You're not going to shut down or panic. You're going to walk back in there, speak to whoever the fuck you need to speak to, and you're going to finish this event strong."

"Are you giving me a pep talk?" I curiously request.

"Yes," Harry responds, "As much as I would love to tell you that we can go to the hotel and ignore your duties, we cannot. You don't get to back down. You've gotten this far. You can sit here for as long as you need, but you're not letting your self-doubt win."

"So, we aren't sneaking off?"

"Not a chance," Harry shakes his head, "But, this woman keeps hitting on me, and I have no clue who she is."

I raise a brow and cock my head to glance at him, "You'll have to show her to me," I instruct, sliding off the small ledge and beginning to walk towards the doors. I turn to gaze at Harry, "You coming or not?"

Harry steps away from the stone concrete and walls closer to me. He opens the door for me and enables me to enter first.

I take a breath, and as the door closes behind me, Harry's hand caresses to the small of my back, giving me the slight nudge to regain my confidence within me. I will hold the Crown high and carry myself with such grace.

I recognise a woman graze her hand against Harry's before she pauses and smiles at him, "I don't believe we've met," she bats her eyes, disregarding me as I step beside Harry.

"I believe you've met my wife," Harry gestures towards me, placing an arm around me. "It's a pleasure to meet you, but I need to keep moving," Harry respectfully dismisses the woman, taking her by surprise. I don't think as a princess, a commoner has ever rejected her.

I clear my throat and smile, "I believe we have met and that you should be curtsying to him," I nod my head, expecting the Princess to curtsy. The princess bows and acknowledges him as a royal before granting him yet another broad smile. "This is Mary-Anne, Princess of Spain; she likes to court the men that are taken," I introduce the two of them.

Mary-Anne chuckles, "All royal men need a mistress, right?"

"Not this one," Harry comments, leading away before I can blink twice.

Mary-Anne watches his long strides before she turns to me, "Do you want to gossip?"

"Does this have anything to do with my husband?" I ask, trying not to chuckle at the way she asks if I want gossip. I may be the Queen, but even the Queen likes to have some good tea.

Mary-Anne chuckles and shakes her head, "Oh, darling, no. As easy as he is on the eyes, he is not of my concern. You should know by now that I eye a man for a reason." ... "And I am not interested in your husband. It's fun to watch him squirm."

Mary-Anne has a point. As much as she and I banter quite a bit and have clashed heads a few times, she does come in handy. She watches and reads everybody in a room. I remember as kids, she and I would be forced to linger in the background and go unseen at functions. Mary-Anne would perpetually remain in the shadows and listen; she watched intently to the point she realised she could use it to her advantage as she got older. Mary-Anne could give me a rundown of every person in this room. She knows how to go unseen and get answers to things without much trouble.

"Your husband is being watched, I'm sure he knows it, but the man in the corner," Mary-Anne subtly tilts her head to the side, and I follow her gaze, "He is watching Harry and you. He's not speaking to any royals, only those who are working the event or have no title."

"What do you know about him?" I softly request.

"Nothing," Mary-Anne responds, "Nobody here knows him. Security is watching him, but there are no grounds to kick him out. He appears cunning."… "And the blond over there, she wants to get in your husband's pants." Mary-Anne gestures towards the Princess, who indeed is eyeing Harry.

"It sometimes worries me how well you read people," I sigh, viewing as Harry and Matthew speak to the blond woman.

"Don't worry; they're using her as an excuse to stay close to that man."

"You really ought to have gotten into investigating work."

Mary-Anne lifts her shoulders into a shrug, "Became a Royal instead," she laughs, "How's Madeleine?"

"She's well, staying with me since the fire."

"I heard about that. They're saying it was intentional."

I nod my head, "Us royals are not very liked at the moment," I respond.

I think I speak for all of us when I say that we are not admired very much. But, on the other hand, we are all being targeted in our own ways.

Mary-Anne hums, "How does it feel to have an event in your honour?"

"Not quite sure this event is for my honour," I respond, continuing to watch Harry.

"Ahh, and she is smart. The event is just a cover. It was the only way to get you here long enough for the President to speak to you off the grid."

"How many people noticed?" I ask.

It didn't dawn on me that this was an intelligent way for the President to speak to me off the grid.

Mary-Anne pauses for a moment, "Just myself. It was orchestrated well."

"Not well enough since you know."

"Darling, who do you think orchestrated it?" She responds with a cunning smile before sauntering off.

I am left speechless while Mary-Anne drifts off into the sea of royals and elites. The woman is inspiring and productive in her own way. She is not your everyday royal, she stays out of most things and keeps her mouth shut, but she knows when the right time to come out of the shadows is. Mary-Anne isn't captured in the media frequently. But, again, she knows how to blend into a crowd and go undiscovered. When Mary-Anne doesn't want to be noticed, she will go by her alias name, and it is on the occasions she greets me with her alias that I know my security team will be closer to me than usual. Matthew has possessed an entire security team near me at all times when she has welcomed me with her fake handle.

I once again find my way to Harry, interrupting his conversation with Matthew, the two of them going mute and glancing at me. “Well, that’s one way to make it obvious you don’t want me around to hear the topic of conversation,” I mutter, shaking my head and stepping away from them.

I feel fingers wrap ever so carefully around my wrist, their strength drawing me into Harry’s body. “Harry,” Matthew scolds, “You cannot grab the Queen like that in public.”

“She’s my wife. I can do as I please,” Harry responds, kissing the top of my head, his arm snaking around my lower back, “Always want you around, but some things are business,” Harry informs me.

“Mhm,” I hum, “I hope you two are discussing the man who’s watching us because I’m starting to feel uncomfortable,” I subtly gesture towards the same man who Mary-Anne pointed out was watching Harry intently. “Without you two making fun of me, my intuition is screaming at me that he isn’t here because he loves royal affairs.”

“I told you she noticed,” Matthew murmurs, “Would you feel more comfortable leaving?”

“Matthew, don’t give her an easy way out,” Harry shakes his head sternly, not appreciating the fact Matthew is offering for us to leave.

“Who’s in charge here?” … “Last time I checked, you’re still unable to be on her service.”

“Matthew—“ Harry pauses before he nods his head, “Do as you wish, I’ll shut up.” Mutters, knowing his limits with Matthew and having respect for him.

“Yes, shut up,” Matthew nods his head, “Your highness,” Matthew grins, purposely trying to get under Harry’s skin.

Harry clears his throat, “Matthew,” Harry narrows his eyes to Matthew, “You're a dick.”

I roll my eyes at the two of them and shake my head, “I’m going to use the bathroom. I’ll be back,” I inform the two of them, my hands reaching for the material of my gown and lifting it so I can walk freely.

I step outside the golden doors, my heels hitting the grey tiles, my dress dancing across the tiles as I make my way towards the lady’s room. I round the corner, and I gasp, a body tumbling into me at force, my hands abandoning my clutch from my hands. “I’m so sorry,” I immediately apologise, stepping back from the silhouette that had run into me.

My eyes meet a set of blue eyes in front of me, “I’m so sorry,” the man apologises, bending down and picking up my clutch bag, returning it to me graciously with a smile.

“It’s okay. Mistakes happen,” I assure him, a sudden hand caressing to my back startling me.

I gasp and turn around, meeting Harry’s green eyes, “Give me the clutch,” he’s stern as he speaks, his hand grasping for my clutch and taking it from my hands before I can begin to shake my head. “Keep it moving,” Harry glares towards the man who ran into me.

“Harry,” I benevolently scold, observing the man walk off without a word. “That was rude.”

Harry nods his head, “That wasn’t an accident, Anna. He calculated running into you,” Harry responds, “Help me take this jacket off, please,” Harry instructs, gesturing towards his suit jacket. I step closer and take his jacket off his shoulders, and he slides his good arm out of the sleeve. He takes the jacket from my hands and steps behind me, kindly placing it over my shoulders. I turn around to face him, my eyes creasing into a frown. Harry leans closer and kisses my cheek before his lips move closer to my ear, “My pistol is in the jacket pocket.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine,” Harry responds, “We’re leaving soon. Matthew is following the guy you pointed out to me.”

“I don’t want to leave you unarmed.”

Harry shakes his head, “I’m armed,” Harry whispers, kissing my cheek again, “Don’t let anyone touch your clutch.”

“Harry, it was—“

Harry shakes his head, “it wasn’t an accident. Don’t let anyone touch your clutch.”

I nod my head, turning around and going back towards where the event is taking place. Perhaps I shouldn’t use the bathroom right now; Harry has me cautious and on high alert suddenly.

***

Harry lays down on the bed, letting out a heavy breath, his eyes closing as I launch my clutch to the bed, grateful to be at the hotel and away from people. Towards the end, people were getting drunk, and it was starting to get a bit out of hand for us royals that aren’t allowed to be rowdy and show that side of us while pictures can be taken. The event was calculated so that the President could find a way to speak to me one on one without drawing attention to us. It was well done, and something I needed. I know I can take down the political party that is destined to destroy me. I’m just not entirely sure how to implement the plans. Part of me is scared of the power I possess and the outcome.

If I could start over and clear the parliament members, I could gain control again in a safe manner. Unfortunately, the members in Parliament are the very ones who more than likely killed Victoria, Henry and my father. They may kill me next. I am unaware of what evil vendetta they have against my family and me. I have done nothing. Whatever my father has done should have ended the moment he died; sadly, the vendetta has continued. I can’t end the monarchy, so I shall play the monarchy at its own game; I will divide and conquer.

The car ride to the hotel was quiet, and Harry didn’t speak. Instead, he rested his head on the window and conceded my thoughts to race through my head, giving me time to conduct some sort of plan.

I could just kill them before they kill me? Right?

Kill or be killed.

What a story I would be in history books years to come: Queen Anastasia not only married a commoner in secret and had him rule the monarch for a few months, but she also beheaded her parliament months after becoming Queen.

I’m not sure that is how I want to be remembered in history books. I’d like to be recognised as the Queen who is dignified, honourable and powerful. I want to be compassionate and make a difference in the world. But for me to be the things I wish to be, I must make progress. The wrong move may kill me, or it may make me. There’s no in-between.

Although I'm convinced they’ll kill me next, part of me is profoundly concerned for Harry. He doesn’t seem to have a care in the world for his safety, but as he is King, I struggle with ignoring the fact he’s also a threat. It is not known to the world he is King. The people do not know the extent of our relationship or that he has the title, but the government does. If I’m a target, so is he. Harry rules with me; we are equal. Harry takes the crown if something happens to me, and he shall keep the crown until an heir is old enough to hold it.

I’m distracted from my thoughts as I hear Harry let out a moan. I peer over at him, pain in his eyes as he sits up, “Fuck me,” he murmurs.

I step towards the duffel bag he came here with, and I unzip it, my hand tunnelling through it before finding the small container of pain pills. I step towards the mini-fridge, and I take a cold water bottle between my fingers before I step to the bed. I hand Harry his pain meds and the bottle, “Thank you, Anna,” Harry half-smiles, opening the container and pouring two round pills into his hand.

While he settles his pain, I assemble on the edge of the bed, my hand stretching towards the strap of my shoes.

"I don't assume a puppy will fix your emptiness and desire to have a baby?" Harry questions, trying to break the ice as I slip off my heels, hurting my feet since I put them on for the event.

"Can we forget it?" I ask, feeling a sense of idiocy for asking him such a question. We haven't been married for too long, and he does have a point. I did express that I would never want to bring a baby into this monarch the way it is. I honestly never wanted to have a baby while in the monarchy, but it seems that I am not escaping.

I stand to my feet, ready to take the dress off of my body.

“Allow me,” Harry whispers, his hand pressing to the small of my back.

Harry moves my curls of cinnamon-brown hair to fall over my shoulder, and he unclips the diamonds from my neck, thoughtfully lifting them off my chest and placing them down ever so delicately. I go to step away from him, but he draws me into him. He wraps his arms around me and holds me close, my back resting against his chest. "Hey," Harry whispers, "I have a question."

"I have an answer," I respond, using the same smart ass comment he used on me earlier.

"Is a baby something you want, whether it be now or in the future?"

I nod my head, "Yes, but it's not logical right now."

The words slip from my mouth before I can honestly think about the question. I don’t want to be lonely and have a void in my heart from the lack of having a family. I want a family, and selfishly, I want to feel needed and wanted.

"I think you're right. But I think we need to be on the same page about something," Harry begins, "Whenever this happens," Harry moves his hands to rest on my stomach tenderly, "It'll happen whenever it's meant to, and it's something I want too, not right now, but whenever it's meant to be. I'm not opposed to having kids; I'm just not sure I trust the monarch right now."

"The monarch isn't going anywhere, Harry. Abolishing is more power than I can put forth."… "It may never be safe to have a baby."

"It will be safe soon enough."

"We can't guarantee that. We are working on taking control, but we are getting nowhere."

"Having a baby won't make any of this easier. On the contrary, it'll make it harder, Anna. Are you still trying to compensate for grieving still?"

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, "I don't know."

"I think maybe we should come back to this conversation when you have a clearer mind?" Harry suggests. "It's a lot to think about."

"You're right," I pull away from Harry, "Plus, it'll be hard to be pregnant when I'm struggling to fulfil all duties as Queen."

“There is a saying La gatta frettolosa fa I figli ciechi.”

"What is with everyone speaking Italian to me tonight? Non capisco," I throw my hands in the air, a little irritated. I don't know what cats have to do with this conversation. I may be able to speak Italian, but I do not understand the damn idioms.

"It translates to, the hurry cat makes blind children."

"I know, but I do not understand." I raise a brow, wholly lost with this conversation. "Are you saying my children will be blind?"

"No," Harry chuckles, "Sweetheart, this proverb is used to say that everything must be done in its own right time."

"Like having a baby?"

Harry nods his head. "Yes, because if you do this in a rush, you might have negative consequences."

"Mhm," I hum, "I see. I am going to change the subject for a minute," I pull Harry into the bathroom, and I run the water, unsure of who could be listening to our conversation, even if it is just Matthew, I still do not want him to know what I am about to say.

"Oh god, is this one of those moments like when you dragged me into the tunnels?" Harry sighs, and I roll my eyes.

"I know you spoke to the president."

"Anna," Harry instantly cuts me off, "Non qui, amore mio." Harry is stern as he tells me we cannot discuss this now. Harry leans closer, his lips pressing to my ear, "Not now, baby, this needs to be entirely private."

I heavily sigh and nod my head, "Well, if anyone is listening, they now know I want a baby," I mutter as I turn the water off and look at Harry.

"Better that than what you want to discuss, trust me," Harry responds, "How about a late-night getaway?" Harry endeavours, his question taking me by surprise.

"Like, leave the hotel?" My eyes grow wide at the thought of leaving the hotel without the array of an entourage to follow. "Are we sneaking out?" I question the idea of being scandalous, brightening my eyes.

Harry rolls his eyes, "Leaving the hotel room with your husband is not sneaking out when he is part of your security." ... "Put on some comfortable clothes, and let’s go,” Harry instructs, tugging at his tie while I turn off the running water I was using to make sure nobody could hear us.

***

Harry and I sneak out of the hotel, and when I say sneak, I mean Harry has probably had this planned. But for spontaneous reasons, we snuck out. We both sit in the gondola, his arm wrapped around me and my head on his shoulder, nothing but utter quietness of a bit of town falling asleep sounding. It’s beautiful and peaceful. During the day, Italy is bustling, but it turns into a quiet village where only a few couples are out and romantic and blissful at night. It’s as though the city is known to bring out romance in couples and spread love.

“It’s strange to think how everything happens for a reason. If you’d never moved to London and taken the job, we wouldn’t be married,” I break the silence, thinking out loud without much thought.

I lived a life without Harry, and I never knew what I was missing until he walked into my life. Him walking into my life isn’t like one of those moments where he saved me from myself or my loneliness. He simply walked in and painted a golden sky full of the most flamboyant colours that held so much beauty and intensity. He walked in and brightened my sunsets, adding an extra dash of pinks and purples on the bad days I never knew affected me.

Harry rubs small circles on my hip, holding me closer as he kisses the top of my forehead, “I’d have found you.”

“Really?” I whisper.

“Really,” Harry nods, “Think we were meant to be. I’d have somehow found you in this life.”

“I’d have found you, too,” I whisper, nestling into him for his warmth.

I’d like to think that even if we hadn't met when we did, somewhere within this lifetime, we’d have found each other, whether it be by pure accident of running into each other at an obscure location or by some grace of God. Although my life has been up and down, there’s one thing that has been constant— him. Harry has had every opportunity to walk away and call it quits. He has held things together well and been the rock I've needed. After many emotional nights and ridiculous arguments, he hasn’t held it against me and decided the marriage was over. He wakes up every day and shows me his love and devotion. The man loved me so much he held the crown until I could take it over and selflessly gave it to me without thinking twice.

I hope Harry never goes through the pain I have gone through mentally and emotionally, but if there ever comes a time he does, I will be the rock he needs. I will hold him on the nights he needs a sense of security. But, instead, he, he and I’ll wipe away any tears that fall from his eyes. I’ll take away any pain that I can and replace it with positivity and love. I may not have the ability to take away any pain he may endure physically, but I can do my best to stand by him through it all and share the burdens of life with him.

“I don’t want to do life without you,” my voice is soft as my hand squeezes his thigh lightly, the sudden realisation that this won’t last forever hitting me.

The idea of doing life without him by my side is a scary thought— a thought I don’t want to have. Life is unpredictable. Anything can happen at a given moment. But at the end of each day, before I close my eyes, having him beside me is enough for one to be okay with life being so unpredictable. No matter what happens, I have his love and support, something I never knew I needed as much as I do until now. Having someone by your side is comforting and energetic.

“You don’t have to, darling,” Harry responds, his hand leaving my hip so he can use it to adjust his sling. He moves forward slightly and pulls his sling over his head, allowing it to fall and his arm to rest on his arm with a heavy sigh. “I don’t plan to go anywhere. And if anything ever happens, just know I love you.” He pulls me back into him, holding me tighter against his chest without his sling in the way, “You get on my nerves and test my patients, but I love you, Anna, even on the nights you take all the damn covers from me, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I respond, “Only you would tell me you love me and also tell me I’m a pain in your ass.”

“That’s the definition of love, sweetheart,” Harry chuckles.

“I don’t want to live without you,” I whisper, the words almost sinking into my throat.

The mere idea of living life without him is nothing I want to have to handle. I never thought that my world would revolve around a man, granted he isn’t just any man, but I never thought I would get to this point in my life. The man beside me drove hours to see me, even if it wasn't for too long. The man beside me reads books late at night to stay awake when I cannot sleep, he spends every spare minute making me laugh. The man in front of me is the reason for my smile, the reason for the constant love and support I feel, and most of all, he is the man that I fell in love with, a man that has made an impact on my life in ways I cannot explain. Through all the ups and downs, I want to spend this life with him without the idea of having to do life without him. I cannot imagine life without this man. It is no life at all if you ask me.

“You don’t have to, I promise,” Harry responds, and I feel him leave a kiss on the top of my head.

I hope he is right. I hope I don’t have to endure a life that doesn’t have him in it.

[laketaj24]

Tolerance

Author’s Note: I think this onslaught of the Witcher has caused my Henry obsession to return. I don’t have a Henry Cavill taglist (except for those who asked)… so I tagged people who might be interested and went from there. If you don’t want to be on the list, it’s cool hit me up! If you do want to be on the list… also… hit me up!

Summary: Bratty reader thinks she deserves more attention than she’s getting, and Henry gives it to her.

Pairing: CEO!Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: Just Smut okay. SMUT.

He’d warned you not to come to his office while he worked, but you had called him seven times, and then on top of the fucking calls, you’d left messages with the secretary. The frosted glass doors to his floor opened after you entered the pin. He would answer you one way or another. “Ma’am, he’s not taking visitors.” The secretary said to you.

Your heels clacked along the marbled floors, and you shoot her a look. “Do I look like a visitor?” The words slipped off your tongue like venom, and she backed down. You watched as she hit the small button and whispered something into the intercom. You knocked twice and then rattled at the doorknob. “Open the fucking door!”

You listened as the weighty footsteps moved closer to the door, and it swung open.  “What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem?” You swing the door closed, but the fancy hydraulics stop it from slamming. “I don’t have one. I’ve called one hundred times.”

“Seven.” He corrected.

“And left messages,” You hissed.

“Three.”

“So you fucking got them, and you weren’t going to answer?”

“You need to calm down.” The door finally closed, and he turned to face you. His arms folded over his chest, and lips formed a smug tight line. “I have been tied up.”

“Sure.” You perch yourself at the edge of his desk and look at him. “It felt like you were ignoring me.”

“I would never.” Henry grinned. “But this bratty behavior your exuding does make me want to.”

You rolled your eyes. “I am leaving.” Seeing him in this state made you forget why you had even bothered to come here. He always left you, weak and unable to think. His very presence hazed your thoughts.

“That you are not,” His hand clasped around your wrist and whirled you over to his hard chest. You inhaled him, the masculine smell of the sandalwood and bourbon.  “Did you think that you would get off that easily?”

You swallowed, and your eyes met his slate green ones. “I have a meeting.” How could his voice alone make you wet, you clenched your legs together and tried to act as if you weren’t falling apart?

His hand moved in slow circles down to the slope of your buttocks, and you moved from him sneakily. You picked up your purse. “I had meetings, too, Y/N. None nearly as important as your time with me, therefore you should take it while you have it.” He pressed some button beneath his desk and locked the door before you could reach it.

It was hard not to have some underlying jealousy with Henry, he was a god as far as physique went, and the prowess of other women was like a magnet. He slyly undid his tie, and it hung from his neck. “Now, we can do this the easy way or…” His low voice gave the warning.

“I do not take kindly to your threats, Mr. Cavill.” The weight of his gaze on you drew tension in the air. It was clear you were not leaving, not in the state you arrived at least.

“Good, they were not meant to be taken kindly. I have the mind to take you over my knee. To make sure you understand that your behavior will not be tolerated, but then there are so many other things that I want to do to you. You understand?”

“and what will be tolerated?”

“A little order,” he moved closer to you and cleared his throat. “Some sanity for god’s sake and punishment.” He grinned.

The word punishment should have scared you shitless, but instead, you felt your nipples harden against the soft fabric of your dress, begging to be set free. Henry’s steps are fluid; he moves you to the white couch and gently tosses you over his thigh. His hand smooths up your legs to the curve of your ass, and then he hits. His thick fingers slap your ass, and your feet intertwine. He noticed. He pushed them apart, spreading your legs, so with each blow, a gust of the air hit your sex.  

“Have I ever told you?” He smacked again. “How perfect of an ass you have?” You could feel the smile on his lips as he smoothed over his blows and then administered another. You hung helplessly over his thighs,  whimpering as the soft sting of his works soothed over you. He knew precisely how to make you weak, shatter, fall apart. One more blow to your ass, and he sends you to your feet. “You can leave now if you want?”

“And if I don’t want to?” you asked.

“Then, take a seat.” He slapped his legs, and you did not waste a moment moving over him and draping your arms over his head. “I have fifteen minutes before my second meeting starts… what do you want to do?” He mumbled into the nape of your neck. His teeth scrape lightly over your skin while his fingers coax the dress up to your waist and reveal you are wearing nothing. You never wore panties around him; there was always a chance you’d end up naked somewhere.

“My pleasure.” You moaned. Your hips attuned to his behavior; you wind them on his thigh, persuading a small moan from him, and then you move to his belt buckle. “I guess that we have to be quick.” It takes a few seconds to unsheathe him from his pants. Henry sprung from his pants veined and thick in your hand. You grip instinctively, stroking him from hilt to the crown and swiping the precum with your thumb. He groaned aloud with his head falling back onto the couch. His mouth opened as he inhaled deeply each time you pulled at him.

“If you don’t stop,” He bucked in your hand. “I will cum from this alone.”

He fucked into your hand, coating your hand so that his thrust would be sleeker, faster. Then you stopped slicking yourself over him, teasing with the smooth opening of your cunt. “How much can you tolerate?” Your teeth nip at his ear. You sink on him and lift yourself from him all the way, feeling empty just from the two seconds he was inside of you.

“Are you teasing me?” He asked with a cocked brow and tinge of amusement on his face.

“Is it working?”

“Barely.” He laughs and secures your hips over him, and with one stroke is inside of you. His fingers dig into your hips as he pushes you down to meet him at every thrust. Your mind raced, wondering if the secretary could hear you? Were the board members he was expecting already out there? And then it hit you; you didn’t give a damn. Your head tossed backward in the moment, and you enjoyed the ride. Your toes curled, and nails dug into his silk shirt, clawing for the skin beneath. You didn’t want to stop, fuck fifteen minutes. You bounced on his cock, feeling yourself grow wetter for him.

Henry watched in excitement; his eyes wandered over what he could see. His cock buried deep inside of you, disappearing as you bucked wildly on him. He could see the pink of your folds and the way they glistened each time they hit the light, and immediately he wanted more. He pulled you from on top of him. Most of your body dangled from the back end of the couch while your pussy rests on his lips. He wasted no time plunging his tongue into you. Quick fast strokes got you to where he had just left off with his dick in seconds. Your hands clung to the couch for balance, but Henry didn’t give two shits about your balance. He was absorbed in the way your pussy tasted.

Seconds bleed into minutes of pleading to cum, and finally, he allowed you. Your body slinked back down to him, and his lips met yours. There was something erotic about tasting yourself on his lips.  He moaned into your mouth; his tongue playfully danced with yours in the afterglow of you cumming.

“Mr. Cavill, your guests have arrived.” The voice sprung from the intercom.

Your hands move back to his cock. “Fuck me.” You stated simply.

Henry’s face was flushed, the brown curls clung to his neck. “They’ll have to wait.” He mumbled, and he wrapped the tie over your neck. He tightened it, and in response, you lean into him. Henry places you on the couch and hovers over you. His weighted frame, as always, takes the breath from your body, and he slips back into you.

This time he isn’t taking his time; his thrusts are planned. Each time he hits your g-spots, causing you to bow into him. Your toes dig into the couch while one of your legs falls to the ground, and the mewls meld into pants for more. “Please don’t stop.” You beg.

“I ca-,” his words halted. He squeezes the grip on the tie, drawing your breath.

He couldn’t, which was great, you didn’t want him too. Henry slammed back into you, over and over. His gaze caught on yours, making everything hyperaware to you. The slow blink of his eyes as his back spasmed and the warm coat of his cum oozing out of you.

Henry yanked the handkerchief from his desk and swiped at your sex, causing you to jolt before sitting back up. “This room smells of sex.” He laughed.

“Cancel your meeting.”

“I have an empire to run.” He laughed. “But, I will be over tonight.” He kissed your lips once more and helped you stand.

“Are you going to have the meeting here?”

Henry laughed and fixed his hair. “I wouldn’t be able to think properly if I did.”

 Taglist: @oddsnendsfanfics​ @taytayize123​ @crushed-pink-petals​ @titty-teetee​ @sparklemichele​ @imgoldielikehawn​ @therandomthoughtsofmsparker​ @therealcalicali​ @rhys108​ @shut-up-broccoli​ @peculiar-monstar​ @sincerelysinister​ @xxpapasfritasxx​ @sheismycherry​ @justgrits​ @antoheartit​ @angelic-kisses13​ @ikeepforgettin​ @bitchwhytho​ @ryuzakiackerman1​

[hettiesworld]

Name of fic: I Recommend a Daddy

Pairing: Sugar daddy!Chris x OFC (Addison)

Plot summary: When Addison runs out of money and is about to lose her house, her friends Auora and Sydney recommend to her a sugar daddy. Of course, there is one thing that is different to the other sugar daddy companies; there is a romantic relationship available.

Warnings: Foul language, sexual themes.

Author’s note: This is part of @donutloverxo Sugary 4k Challenge. Of course, it is not part of my Chris x Addison series fic, “Best Thing I Ever Had”, just to be clear. My OCs are not famous, neither are the celebrities in this.

Word count: 1641 words.

“Rory! Sydney! Need your help quick!” Addison called out to her friends whilst running from her spare bedroom to her own, her handbag in one hand and her purse in the other.

“What is it Addy?” Sydney asked her, trying to braid Aurora’s hair.

“I have no money! I am gonna lose my house --” She started to freak out, breathing heavily. Just like the talkative person that she was. Until Auora stood up from her sitting position.

She placed her hands on Addison’s shoulders.

“Addy. Calm down, it’s okay, just do what we did. Get a sugar daddy.” “A sugar daddy?” “Yeah.” Sydney added on, also standing up, phone in hand. “Have a look. This is my sugar daddy.”

The picture on Sydney’s phone was of a 50 year old man. She could tell by the wrinkles on his face. Addison cringed at how old he was.

“And this is mine.” Aurora beamed as she picked up her phone, showing Addison her one. He looked, at least, 30-something years old.

“How old is he?” She asked Auora. “51. And he is Syd’s brother!” Aurora exclaimed. “What? How is he one? I have met him loads of time and it looked like… no offence, but he looked like he didn’t have a lot of money.” Addison explained.

“Meh. Something about a relative having a lot of money and I didn’t get anything. So I got Jeremy to help me.” Sydney replied. “But I don’t mind if my brother didn’t help me, I got to meet --” “--Yes, you got to meet Jeremy, we know. But that doesn’t mean you get to kiss him or something…” Addison interrupted Sydney.

She out her handbag on the bedside table and sighed, collapsing onto the comfortable water bed.

“Actually…”

Addison sat up and was shocked at what Auora was going to say.

“Wait… you’re in a relationship with them?” Addison exclaimed, putting on a confused face.

Both Sydney and Auora shrugged their shoulders, basically saying that they were.

“It’s kinda complicated. It’s a polyamorous relationship. He can date other girls. That’s the business of the sugar daddy company they are part of.” Sydney explained.

Addison thought to herself, ‘Does she need a sugar daddy? She was losing her house and she didn’t have a lot of money…’ Sydney already had Addison’s laptop up, with the sugar daddy website on it, flashing in her blue eyes.

“Go on. Pick one!” Sydney encouraged, placing the laptop in her lap.

Addison sighed and looked over the website. She repeatedly denied every single one she looked at until she found a 39-year old man picture on there. Let’s just say, Addison was definitely interested in him. His name was Chris and he was from Boston, Massachusetts. 

“Ooh… He looks interesting and hot! Go on, message him!” Aurora said to her, instantly clicking on the messaging app within the website. “Rory! Why did you do that?” Addison condemned Aurora. “Look! He messaged you!” Sydney added.

Mr. Evans: Hello Addison. Are you interested in my offer of being your sugar daddy?

“Reply Addy, reply!” Sydney and Auora both exclaimed at her.

“Okay, okay. Just leave me alone. Let me message him.”

Addison: Hello, Mr Evans. I guess I am interested in your offer. Mr. Evans: Please call me Chris. Now, tell me. Why are you coming to this website? Addison: I am going to lose my job and my friends suggested this website. It could help me with my financial problems. Mr. Evans: I will gladly help with your money issues. We should meet up, but if you’re living far away, we should meet via webcam. Addison: I would like that.  Mr. Evans: Just give me your Skype details and I will contact you soon.

Sydney and Auora screamed with glee as Chris accepted the offer. Addison sighed at them before giving Chris her details.

“Now we wait.”

It was a few days afterwards and Addison was alone, in her bedroom. She was waiting for Chris to call her via Skype. Then, it happened.

“Hello?”

Addison looked up from her phone, as she was playing Candy Crush Saga.

 “Oh my… I am so sorry! I didn’t know you called me!” She yelped, making Chris laugh from the call.

“It’s alright. I’m guessing you’re Addison then?” He asked her.

“Yep. Sorry I was playing Candy Crush. And please, call me Addy. My friends call me that.” “Got it. What level are you on?” Questioned Chris, titling his head and then sipping a beer. “I’m on… level 182.” “That is cool. I’m on level 543.” “What? How?!” “Practice.”

They both laughed.

“Anyways… You have financial problems?” He then asked her, having a notebook and pen in his hands. “Yeah I do. A few days ago, I had no money in my bank account. I’m getting evicted soon cause I can’t pay my rent…” Addison rambled on as Chris nodded understandably, writing down what she was saying. “I am so sorry. Well, if you accept my offer, then you will be able to live at my place, accompanied with me and my dog, I will be able to pay everything off. All you need to do is give me company. Do some chores around the house, that sort of stuff.” He explained.

Addison thought for a while.

“I do need money. Okay, I accept.” “Great! You can start in 2 days. Just come to my address in Massachusetts and we will do the contract and important stuff. Get packed and I’ll see you then, okay?” “Okay! Thank you so much Chris!” She hung up.

2 days later, she flew from London to Boston, Massachusetts in the USA.

It was a city of wide avenues and small places to sit and eat, to relax as folk went about their day. There were the sky towers in the centre, what was once thousands of homes now took up less ground space than an old shopping mall. The rest was parks and wild spaces, a chance to walk among nature or enjoy the trails on bicycles or horseback. Yet perhaps Addison’s favourite thing was the river that flowed through the centre, crossing the bridges, pausing just to look at the view I saw every day and loved all the more.

She arrived outside a white-ish house, just outside the city.

There stood a tall man, about 6’ 0”, with short brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, 2 buttons undone. He also wore brown shorts and white sneakers. “Addy! You came!” Chris smiled and welcomed her with open arms. She stood out of the fancy car. She was wearing a pretty flowery dress with matching blue shoes with wedged heels. Bright red sunglasses, her blonde hair flowing in the cool wind. In her hand, a beautiful leather handbag.

Addison pranced over to Chris, trying not to fall over in her shoes.

“Chris! It is a pleasure to meet you.” Her London accent was clear as day as she gave him the usual posh greeting; an air kiss on each cheek. “You too. How was your flight?” He asked her, being a true gentleman and bowing, kissing the back of her hand. “It was luxurious!” Addison smiled at him, blushing at the gesture he gave her. “Please! Let me give you a tour!”

The house Chris lived in looked quite expensive. She was surprised that he had a drawing-room (or a living room to you guys). The drawing room had a snug and huggy feel to it. The dining room, which was next to it,  was Chris’s in-home cafe, one where all the chefs and wait staff cooked for a living.

Upstairs, the bedroom she was staying in was just tidy enough to show that she cared about the space and just messy enough to show that she was able to let her creativity roam free. It was her goldilocks zone, perfect for how she was, especially for an inspiring storyteller like her. The en-suite next to it was a place of washing, of nurturing our sanity with the sensation of warm water and aromatic soaps. For the body must feel loved and cared for, for then it feeds back these messages to the brain and begins to set up a positive cycle of wellness.

After the tour, Chris let his personal servant takes Addison’s luggage to her bedroom as they stood in the massive hallway.

“Please make yourself at home. You are staying here. Any questions?” He asked her. “No. Not that I can think of.” “Good. Let’s meet in the drawing-room to discuss the contract.”

They both walked into the drawing-room and sat next to each other, with a big pile of papers, which is basically the whole contract. It was halfway through the signing.“Okay… time for section 5, which is relationships and sex.” Addison choked as he said that. “S-sex?” She faltered, coughing as her drink went the wrong way down her throat.

“Yes… you okay?” Chris helped her by patting her back. Apparently, that doesn’t help at all but Chris didn’t know that then.

She hummed in response as she put down her drink, leaning back as if it never happened.

“You alright now?” “Yep. Carry on.” “Okay… Now, are you fine with us being in a polyamorous relationship or do you want a ‘just friends’ relationship?” Chris asked, reading off the paper. Addison pondered to herself.

“Can I think upon it? I don’t want to be in a relationship without any romantic interest in each other…” She mumbled. “Yeah, of course. It would be cool to go on a date to see if we do have a spark.” He suggested, placing the contract down back onto the table. “I like that idea.” Addison smiled at him, blushing.

[awriterpretendingtowrite]

TFATWS Spoilers

Don't keep reading if you haven't seen up to the latest ep of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Ep 5).

First, I love Sam and Bucky’s dynamic, and I used to not ship them at all.

However, this frickin show. Wow, where to start.

First, the queerbaiting in Ep 2 with the couples therapy was blinding.

Then, they just keep fighting like an old married couple. If we kept the same shots, the same music, same tones of voice, but changed one of them to be female, this would be a romance.

Now for Ep 5:

First off, I LOVED that Sam is finally taking on the Captain America mantle and proving that he doesn’t need the serum to do it!!! Even after Isaiah Bradley shared his horrifying experiences, after it looked like Sam was giving up, he still decided to pick up the shield and train!

Speaking of the training scene... let’s talk about the queerbaiting. Whether it was intentional or not, there was a TON of queerbaiting in this episode. Here’s what I saw, but feel free to add on:

1. The way they fight together in the beginning isn’t their best work, at least in my opinion, but it’s still amazing, and it at least shows that they trust each other with their lives. That scene was more focused on Walker, but there was still that element of partnership that we used to see with Bucky and Steve, who were/are also heavily queer-coded. When Bucky saved Sam from Walker’s killing blow, it solidified that these two men matter a lot to each other and that they are partners, even if they don’t want to admit it.

2. Speaking of, their bickering is hilarious, but also undeniably old married couple behavior. It can also be seen as the classic romantic trope of “fake-fighting because neither of you have processed your feelings yet and you don’t want to ruin your friendship.” Most importantly, in between that bickering, they have real conversations, and although they can be stubborn with each other, it shows us that again, they really care about each other and that they are partners in fighting for their cause.

3. Skip to Sam being home, calling in favors, etc, fixing up his family’s boat. “How do we get it off the truck?” Cut to Bucky casually showing off to all of Sam’s friends with his strength and fixing the gas leak. AKA the romantic trope of showing off in front of your romantic interest and their friends.

4. Speaking of Bucky fixing the gas leak, they were way closer than they needed to be at first, and Bucky grabbing Sam’s arm, and the return of their old married couple bickering. I can’t, please, my little queer heart can’t take another major company using us for money.

5. Bucky continually showing his strength to Sam and being super helpful (also, the jeans/t-shirt combo? Deadly to my little bi heart).

6. “Well, Nicole, what about Sarah and Bucky?” That’s a valid point, truly. What about them? Honestly, I was looking for any romance between them to make sure I wasn’t just blindly ignoring it because I want the gay romance to happen so badly, but I saw nothing except Bucky going, “hEy. I’m Bucky.” And then they made it worse by having Sam say, “But don’t flirt with my sister.” Yes, that is a big brother thing to do, but again, if either of them were female, that’s a Jealous Crush move! There’s no denying it! “Don’t flirt with them” *internally* because you should flirt with ME.

7. Skip to Sam fixing the boat and Bucky knowing that he’d be down their fixing it and just helping him. Who was the only person Bucky ever just helped and took orders from like that? Steve. That was it. Again, queer-coded. (And more old couple bickering)

And finally...

8. The training scene. Oh gosh, the training scene. Their flawless chemistry. The way they trade off the shield. The way they remember each other’s struggles and the way Bucky tries to understand Sam’s struggles, even though he’s from a completely different era.  The way they are vulnerable with each other. The way they look at each other my stars.

9. Sam asking Bucky if he still has his nightmares and Bucky, without hesitation, replying, “All the time.” It parallels the therapy that wasn’t doing Bucky any good at the beginning, but if you watch Bucky’s body language, the look in his eyes, it’s clear that Sam’s words help him more than anything else as so far. The way that Sam knows when to be tough with Bucky and when to be a caring friend who just listens. The way he looks at Bucky.

10. Bucky risking asking the Wakandans for another favor to replace Sam’s wings, because even though Sam walked away, Bucky knew that he would want them back eventually. He knows who Sam really, just like Sam really knows who Bucky is. He is so open with Sam, even more than he was with Steve. Again, the way he looks at Sam. Like he’s some sort of heaven-sent person, like Sam is his lifeline to his sanity. If Bucky were female, that would be immediately recognizable as a pining look. I have given my best friend that look and I was crushing on her, hard. That is not a look straight men give each other.

11. And at the end of their training, when they part ways, just as a little cherry on top, their “bro handshake” lasted wayyyy too long (and the way they look at each other... again). The awkward way they’re trying to put a label on their relationship and Sam automatically correcting partners to coworkers. That may seem like a straight guy thing to do, but as a queer woman, when I was first figuring out that I liked girls, and specifically my best friend at the time, I avoided and corrected, at all costs, any implications that she and I could possibly be involved, even in the sense that someone called us partners for something totally unrelated to romantic intentions.

12. Skip to Sarah and Sam talking and Sarah saying, “Who knew you were so sensitive?” Well, that’s a classic falling in love trope. “You’ve changed, for the better,” or pointing out something specific that has changed because of their partner, is so commonly said to people in romance stories, and if. Sam or Bucky. Were female. This. Would. Be. A. Romance.

My queer siblings, my rabid hellers, my tired LGBT folks who are desperate for scraps of representation--

Don’t settle for scraps, because if we settle for scraps, it’s all we’ll ever get. It was a start, sure, but we cannot continue to let big companies think it’s okay to queerbait us in increasingly obvious ways and make money off of us frantically grasping at straws. Look at Supernatural. They had a gay confession to draw the queers back in the for last two episodes, then never acknowledged it. In fact, they insulted us by killing any and all even slightly queer-coded characters.

It’s time to join together and let our voices be heard. Our sexualities, our gender identities, our struggles, will not be made into something that companies use to make money. If Marvel pulls the same BS that the C*W did, queerbaiting and then discarding, we need to let them know that that is no longer acceptable. It’s not okay; it never has been.

In the meantime, enjoy TFATWS, ship whoever you want, and be aware of what is happening and what Disney and Marvel are doing. 

We won’t stand this mistreatment any longer, and when it comes down to it, we will make our voices heard.

[iammultifandomaf]

Once a Leader, Always a Leader

FanFiction: Sweet Home (Netflix)

Chapter 4 - ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

He raised his hands and observed them for a second and then laid them back on his thighs without a word.

"How do you feel?" Ji-Su asked and slowly stood up from the mattress. Eun-Hyuk looked at her in thought and simply said: "Still the same."

"Monster-same or human-same?" Eun-Yu added and watched him curiously. He looked at her and rose to his feet.

"Since my eyesight didn't get worse again, I'd say monster-same," he said and looked around, scratching the back of his head.

"We should make some food plan... and a plan in general. How to stay safe–" he said, not giving his change much attention but got interrupted by his sister.

"You destroy monsters by touch, right? So... if you stay sane, you are keeping us safe, no?"

He gave her a long look and gave out a quiet 'hm'.

"What? Am I wrong? And what do you do exactly to them? You said you're gonna tell me later."

"Uhm... Do you remember the first monster we encountered?" Eun-Hyuk asked.

"The lady monster with that nasty tounge?" Hye-In said.

"Yeah... she ate people, right? I... eat other monsters," he added quietly.

"You eat monsters? That's great! You're basically superior to them? With that scream and all," Eun-Yu said in excitement, sensing some sort of hope for them.

"Maybe... but I shouldn't eat them so much. It changes me."

"How?" Ji-Su wondered.

"I... I am not sure yet. But then again, that's the only way I know how to properly get rid off them and keep you safe," he said in a low voice.

"Maybe it's like a power boost? No? That would come in handy," Eun-Yu said.

"Even if... even if it was like that... what if it comes with a cost? I don't want to lose my sanity," Eun-Hyuk admitted. Ji-Su stood up and approached him, touching his shoulder gently.

"I bet that if you stay with us... you can stay the way you are, huh? Like Cha Hyun-Su... he was also able to come back."

Eun-Hyuk looked her in the eyes without a smile but nodded, appreciating what she said.

"That's another thing... I need to find him. But I am not sure how."

"Let's do that together then. We have the van-" Eun-Yu said but stopped when she noticed her brother staring at her, "What?" she cried out angrily.

"He could be anywhere...," Hye-In said.

"Honestly, I don't know what's the best decision to make... we could be looking for him for a long time... can we really live in a small van?" Eun-Hyuk asked and looked at the children who have been silently sitting on the mattress and then looked down at his hands. I need to find out if I can control my turns. Why am I suddenly like this again?

Ji-Su noticed how Eun-Hyuk watched his hands curiously and asked: "Are you in control of the changes happening to you?"

He looked up at her and stayed silent for a bit before saying: "I... need to figure that out."

"Alright, so... let's have breakfast, pack and then figure out if you have it under control, alright?" Ji-Su said.

Everyone agreed with Ji-Su's suggestion, mainly because everyone was getting pretty hungry already. All of them also properly washed themselves since they haven't had the opportunity for a while and probably won't get one for the time being.

After all that, they got all their bags and supplies into the van, as well as the children and the dog.

"So... what now?" Hye-In asked, glancing at Eun-Hyuk who warily looked around.

"I think we aren't alone," he said quietly and his gaze stopped at the opposite house, "we should-"

Eun-Hyuk didn't finish his sentence because a very thin looking but quite tall monster jumped from behind the building and was now standing in front of them.

"Fuck!" Eun-Yu cursed and quickly jumped into the van, "Eun-Hyuk, get rid of him!"

However, he didn't know what was wrong, but he couldn't draw his claws out, let alone find the strength for his monster-scream.

"I... I think... we gotta just bounce. Get in! Quickly!" he commanded and ran to the van and sat down into the driver's seat, Ji-Su sitting down next to him. Eun-Hyuk quickly started the engine and stepped on the gas, driving away from the monster.

"So, you don't know how it works, then?" Ji-Su asked with an alarmed voice.

"Well," Eun-Hyuk said but a loud thud on the van's roof made him look up, "shit."

Something looking like a hand clawed its way through the roof and was now hanging in between Eun-Hyuk and Ji-Su, trying to reach at least something.

"You've got a weapon?" Eun-Hyuk asked and tried to shake off the monster by driving from side to side of the road.

"I... a knife in my backpack," she said and quickly opened her red backpack, looking for it. The monster's hand was jiggling around and came close to grabbing Eun-Hyuk's head.

Eun-Hyuk's first instinct was to bite into the palm agressively which made the monster give out a distorted cry. Ji-Su stared at it in disbelief, noticing that Eun-Hyuk's teeth didn't resemble anything a human would have in his mouth.

Eun-Hyuk quickly glanced at Ji-Su and then back at the road and tried to encourage her with a :"Cmmhn."

Ji-Su shook away the stupor an stabbed the monsters wrist, trying to cut through it, however the knife got stuck in the arm and didn't move at all.

"I can't cut it off!" Ji-Su cried out. Eun-Hyuk quickly grabbed her hand and put them onto the steering wheel and then got a tight grasp on that monster's arm. He felt that his jaws and teeth have changed and hoped that he could rely on them for now, biting deep into the monster's arm, ripping it off with ease. The arm fell down with an unpleasant squishy noice. Eun-Hyuk then grabbed the steering wheel and made an unexpected turn, shaking off the monster off the car.

Ji-Su watched Eun-Hyuk's focused eyes and his face which was now covered in the monster's goo-ish blood.

"What about the arm?" she asked weakly.

Eun-Hyuk's eyes landed on the monster's arm and picked it up with his right hand.

"Throw it out?" he suggested and handed it to Ji-Su who then opened the car door and with a fast movement, threw out the arm.

"So... do you know now how to change?" Ji-Su asked after a while and looked Eun-Hyuk.

"As you can see," he said, showing her his teeth which still were very inhuman, "not really, no. It's still somehow instinctual... and that sucks."

Ji-Su didn't answer and the silence was kept until Eun-Yu violently opened the blackened window that separated them and the back of the van.

"I want to see what is happening over here, jesus fucking christ. That was a monster, right?" she said and looked at Eun-Hyuk, noticing the slowly-drying goo on his face.

"Yeah, it was a monster," Ji-Su calmly answered and looked back at her.

"We should find a gas station and get some gas," Eun-Hyuk said as his eyes landed on the blinking gas symbol in front of him.

"You should probably clean off first, you look disgusting," Eun-Yu answered, relying on her attitude to cover how frightful she just felt from the whole situation.

"Yeah, that, too," he said and gave her a quick glance before returning his gaze to the road. "I have a bad feeling, though..."

"What feeling?" Ji-Su asked alarmed.

"I... I can't really explain it but I think we aren't that far from other monsters. Like a lot of them," Eun-Hyuk replied.

"So, turn the fucking van around!" Eun-Yu said angrily.

"That's no good, either. The monster that attacked us just before brought attention to us as well. What I am saying is that we'll just have to drive through somehow. We are basically surrounded."

"You better get that abysmal scream back, young man," Hye-In commented from the back as she nervously patted her dog. Meanwhile, Su-Yeong and Yeong-Su were clutching onto each other, sensing the gloomy atmosphere in the van. Eun-Hyuk did not answer, though, and only kept on driving.

It didn't take long for them to see multiple monsters ahead of them. A few of them seemed a bit agitated and tried to attack each other. Eun-Hyuk stopped the car and looked at Ji-Su.

"Take over the driving, I'll get their attention so you can pass them, alright?" Eun-Hyuk said, undoing his seatbelt. Eun-Yu quickly grabbed his shoulder and dug her nails into it which made her brother turn his around.

"Are you CRAZY? You aren't going anywhere!" she said loudly.

"Shh, Eun-Yu," he tried to get her hand off his shoulder but she would not let go of his t-shirt, "I will be fine," he added.

"You said that the last time!"

"And I am here, aren't I?" he said and opened the door a bit.

"If you leave, I'll really hate you then!" she exclaimed, not having enough time to think of a proper argument. She only received the smile he always gave her. The smile that meant that whatever she said to him, he did not take it personally and only saw the message in between the lines. He jumped out of the van and began jogging to the monsters.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Eun-Yu cried out, feeling her eyes tear up. Ji-Su climbed over to the driver's seat and watched Eun-Hyuk who already won the monsters' attention.

"Jesus, this doesn't look good," Ji-Su said under her breath, staring at Eun-Hyuk who now stood in front of the approaching monster and didn't seem to be turning into one to save himself. It didn't take long before one short but very bulky monster jumped Eun-Hyuk, pinning him underneath him. The other monsters seemed to copy the first one and tried to get to Eun-Hyuk as well.

Eun-Yu couldn't hold in her whimpers anymore and let the tears flow down her cheeks heavily. "It's so many of them," Eun-Yu whispered.

"We better get the hell out of here," Ji-Su said quietly, remembering that Eun-Hyuk said that the monsters are also behind them and stepped on the gas, driving fast pass the hoard of monsters, climbing on each other just to get to Eun-Hyuk. Hye-In watched the bloodcurdling scene they have been passing.

"Why are they so into getting him, though?" Hye-In asked in a weak voice as they finally passed the monsters. "Isn't that weird?"

"Who the fuck cares?!" Eun-Yu yelled at her and sat down next to Yeong-Su who started crying, too.

"I guess it is weird, yeah..." Ji-Su commented, not able to take her eyes off the road in front of her, feeling stunned from what had just happened. What would I give to hear that haunting shriek, again, Ji-Su thought.

In a few minutes, they have reached something that resembled a gas station and decided to stop there. "Eun-Hyuk said to get gas... would somebody come with me if they have any canisters left?" Ji-Su asked in a faint tone, looking back at the gang.

"I'll go with you," Eun-Yu said shortly and opened the back door, jumping out of the van. Ji-Su followed her outside as well. The gas station was pretty wrecked, but it seemed that inside the shop, there were still some supplies.

"We should get everything we can get our hands on," Ji-Su said. Eun-Yu started marching towards the shattered door but Ji-Su's hand stopped her. "Wait," she whispered, "let's be careful, monsters can be in there."

"I don't care," Eun-Yu shook off her hand and walked right into the store.

"Jesus," Ji-Su rolled her eyes and wrapped her fingers around the knife handle and went inside, too.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13825734/4/