#but it turns out some self care and a lazy day in the sunshine helps!

[englishstrawbie]

Serendipity (32/?)

Fandom: Station 19, Grey’s Anatomy

Characters: Maya Bishop & Carina DeLuca

Summary: A chance meeting at a bar leads to these two idiots falling in love. Follows canon and fills in the gaps of their relationship that we didn’t get to see on screen.

Also @ AO3.

* * * * *

Scar Tissue

I was scarred but I was not broken. Beneath my wounds I was still whole. Beneath my insecurities, beneath my pain, beneath my struggle, beneath it all, I was still whole. - Amy Harmon

Maya sits in the captain’s office working on her incident report, the letters forming an incoherent jumble as she stares at the screen. Her chin rests on one hand while the other fiddles with a spare pen, tapping its end against the wooden desk. There is a lot to write up today – Travis’s injured nose, Vic’s bruised jaw, Ben’s assault; not to mention the whole team’s exposure to the drug paraphernalia that was lying around the house of the couple they were called out to help.

At the time, she’d had little sympathy for them as she had watched Travis try to stop his nose from bleeding while the mother-to-be, Gina, was swinging a baseball bat wildly in the air. Beer cans and used needles scattered around the front yard, Maya’s patience wore thin as the situation escalated quickly. She had not hesitated to call the police department to the scene thanks to the erratic behaviour of their two patients.

With some hindsight, she sees it differently. They were two people who desperately need help to get their lives back on track, for the sake of their new baby as well as themselves. She knows it is possible that her report will be used to press charges against one or both of them, and she wants to write it with some empathy.

Except, next to her right hand, her cell phone sits open with the last message that Carina sent her, regaling her with a story about the meal she is prepping for dinner tomorrow. Maya had been immediately riled by it. She can just imagine the state of her kitchen right now; it was bad enough this morning with her pasta hanging to dry and the smell of her stinky cheeses lingering in the air.

So she hasn’t answered the message yet, because she doesn’t know what to say that doesn’t sound rude or snappy.

That doesn’t sound like her father when he was annoyed.

Instead, she tries – and fails – to focus on her incident report, but it is not good. Giving up, she changes out of her uniform and heads to the station gym, annoyed to find it already occupied.

“Sorry Cap,” Dean says as he lifts a heavy dumbbell. “I can be out of here in, like, ten minutes?”

Maya shakes her head, figuring she can find some chores to do as an alternative. “Don’t worry about it.” She nods towards his right leg. “Your knee doing okay?”

“Yeah, good as new,” Dean says. “Ready to get back on active duty.” He stares at her pointedly and Maya shoots him a knowing smile.

“Fine, you’re off desk duty,” she says, laughing as he woops with delight. No firefighter likes being stuck on desk duty, even if there is good reason for them to be. “But only if whatever’s going on between you and Sullivan won’t affect your ability to work with him.”

She’s not stupid, she heard about the argument they got into when the team got back from their call, and she still feels the impact of Rigo’s death.

“It won’t, I promise,” Dean says.

Maya nods, trusting him, and walks out of the gym, heading towards the bunk room where Vic is putting away the rolled hoses – or trying to, since she is still trying to hold a cold compress to her jaw at the same time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Maya says, leaning against the door frame as she watches her.

“I will when I get this done,” Vic says, with a heavy sigh. Something is playing on her mind, Maya can tell, and she waits to see if it is something she wants to share. It isn’t long before Vic looks over her shoulder towards her. “I wish you hadn’t called the cops on that couple so quickly.”

Maya raises her eyebrows, surprised that Vic would still have sympathy for them after getting clocked by Eddie’s elbow.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Maya starts, but Vic interrupts her.

“There’s always a choice.”

“They were unpredictable and dangerous,” Maya reminds her. “My team was at risk. Look what happened to you, to Travis, to Ben.”

“We were handling it,” Vic argues back.

“No, we weren’t. They need help that we can’t give them,” Maya says.

“And the police can?” Vic says. “You think they’re gonna turn their lives around in jail?” She sighs, knowing she is taking it out on the wrong person. “Sorry, I’m just having one of those days where I’m pissed we can’t do more.”

“I know,” Maya says. She steps inside the room. “You should go and rest, I’ll finish up here.”

Vic looks at her with surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I need the workout.”

Vic doesn’t need to be told twice. She drops the hose in her hands and grabs her ice pack, brushing her shoulder gently against Maya’s as a sign of thanks as she passes her.

Maya gets to work, the physical demand on her body a relief from the tension she carries. She pumps her arms as she carries each hose to its resting place, squatting in between moves and enjoying the feel of her muscles burning. She thinks only of the task in hand and pushes everything else out of her mind.

She doesn’t notice Andy appear in the doorway until her voice captures her attention.

“Captain doesn’t stack hoses,” she points out.

“Only one person allowed in the gym at a time,” Maya says. “I’m making do.”

She can feel Andy’s eyes on her as she continues to put the hoses away.

“That family. They, uh, they remind you of the mess you grew up with?”

“No, no,” Maya says. What they saw today was far from the suburban life she grew up with. “My dad raged and threw things, but only at the walls. Never at us and never in front of the neighbours.” She slides one of the hoses onto the rack. “I’m afraid to go home,” she admits.

“To Carina?”

“No! God, no. Carina’s a salve,” Maya says. “It’s me, I’m afraid of how much I'm like my dad.”

Andy looks at her curiously and waits for her to continue.

“You know, my brother and I chose such opposite ways of dealing with him. Mason buried his head in the sand like my mom. And me? I just wanted to please him.” She throws another hose into the rack. “I made myself into a perfect copy of my dad so that he wouldn't find a reason to be mad at me. I spent so many years learning how to read his sighs and silences, the hunch of his shoulders. So many years mimicking the tone of his voice.” She sighs as she realises what has been playing on her mind ever since Carina moved in.

“I'm scared that by protecting myself from him, I turned myself into him.”

“You are nothing like him,” Andy says quickly.

Maya isn’t so sure about that. She feels it, bubbling away inside of her, every day. She sees it in her reactions, hears it in the words she says out loud.

“And for my thirteenth birthday, I was allowed to have three friends spend the night. I didn't have three close friends, but some girls from the softball team came over, and we hung out in the basement. We painted nails and talked about first kisses, and I pretended like I only liked boys.”

They both laugh at that.

“And this one girl, Holly, she went to the kitchen during the movie and she came back with a soda, and I freaked out. I asked her where she got that because those were my dad's and no one else was allowed to touch those. And Holly shrugged because she was thirteen and it was a can of soda.”

Maya pauses, panting, a combination of her workout and the way she can’t stop the words from spilling out of her mouth. The hoses are all tidy and she has nothing else to distract her from everything she thinks and feels.

“And then, sure enough, a few minutes later, my dad came tearing down the stairs. ‘Who drank my last soda?’,” she mimics him, exhaling deeply. “I can still feel every muscle in my body tensing up. And Holly was terrified; and he pointed his finger at her and he said, ‘Who said you could drink that?’. And she just stared at him, suddenly this… this tiny, little girl. And he came lumbering over to her and he ripped the can out of her hand. And he went back upstairs. And she called her mom, crying, and her mom came and picked her up.”

Maya grabs one of the rolled-up hoses that she has just stacked away, desperate to feel the aching in her muscles, the physical pain a distraction from the emotional pain she can’t shake, no matter how hard she tries.

“This morning, I woke up in the apartment and I looked around at her cheeses and her pastas and all of her wonderful everything, and I could feel the rage building inside of me. I could feel the ‘Who drank my last Coke?’ rage. Because I'm so used to having control over every last inch of my space. And now she's here, and it's terrifying. I am terrified that I am gonna snap at her like him and that she is gonna stop loving me and…” She shakes her head, almost too afraid to say it. “Am I broken?”

She feels broken. She feels like her father broke her down and she is trying to rebuild herself, except the pieces don’t fit together properly any more.

Andy looks at her with an empathy that she isn’t sure she deserves.

“Look, I'm still working on this one myself, Maya,” Andy says, “but I think being afraid to be like your dad is the first step to not being like him.”

Andy steps forward and takes the hose out of Maya’s hands, putting it back in the cage from where she has just taken it.

“And you should talk to your girlfriend,” she says pointedly. “Because Carina loves you and she’s not gonna stop loving you if you let her in. You need to trust her. And you need to trust yourself too.”

Andy reaches out and squeezes Maya’s arm in comfort, while pulling a face at her.

“Also, you need to go shower before dinner.”

Maya chuckles at that, comforted by Andy’s words, even though her stomach is still twisted into knots. She hasn’t thought about that memory for years and now it is all she can think about.

With the hoses in their rightful place and the bunk room tidy, Maya takes Andy’s advice and heads to the showers, before going back to her office to finish her report. As she steps inside, a familiar face waits for her.

“Diane.” Maya immediately reaches for the mask in her back pocket and hooks it around her ears.

Diane Lewis spins in her chair and stands up, although she keeps her distance. “Captain Bishop, it’s nice to see you.”

“You too,” Maya says with a small frown, surprised to see the psychologist in her office. “But I wasn’t expecting you, was I?” She walks around the desk and sits in her chair, wondering if she missed an email.

“The department asked me to stop by each station to check in with the teams, make sure everyone is coping with work and lockdowns and sickness,” Diane explains. “I was visiting Station 23 and thought I’d pop in to see if you were around. I just saw Travis sporting a swollen nose?”

“Yeah, we had a tricky call earlier today,” Maya says, twisting her lips regretfully.

Diane sits back down in her chair. “So, how’s it going here?”

That feels like a big question.

“I think everyone’s doing as well as they can, you know,” Maya says. “It’s busy, we’re seeing a lot more call outs, so everyone’s tired all the time – on top of worrying about their families and loved ones. I’m trying to go easy on them if chores don’t all get done.” She shoots Diane a wry smile. They both know she has high standards. “I’m spending time with B and C shifts too.”

Most of her shifts are with A team, as it has always been, but she switches it up every now and again, making sure to have 1-2-1 time with everyone under her care. It is exhausting, but she steps up because it is her role as captain.

“And what’s that like for you?”

“For me?”

Diane smiles kindly. “Leading a fire house in the middle of a pandemic can’t be easy. You have to take care of yourself as well as your team.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Maya says dismissively.

Diane looks at her with a look on her face that says she isn’t convinced by her answer.

“I am,” Maya insists. “I have a great team at work…” She smiles wistfully. “And I have a great girlfriend at home.”

Diane looks interested in that piece of news.

“Carina. She’s a doctor at Grey Sloan. We’ve been together for four months,” Maya says. She doesn’t know why she is telling Diane all this, but she has a way of getting her to talk. “I know moving in together is quick...”

“I don’t think relationships should be dictated by time,” Diane says. “Does it feel right?”

Maya smiles. “Yeah, it does. It feels good – really good.” The smile drops from her face quickly as she remembers the way she hurried out of the apartment this morning.

“But?” Diane asks, picking up that there is something on her mind.

Maya doesn’t know how to respond to that, so Diane waits and watches her, leaving Maya wondering if this is her ploy to get her to fill the silence. It works though, and Maya silently berates herself for falling for her trick.

“It’s the first time I’ve ever lived with someone,” Maya eventually says. “I mean, I’ve lived with friends, but Carina’s the first girlfriend – or boyfriend – that I’ve lived with. So it’s new – and different.”

“That’s a big step to take on top of everything else you’re dealing with,” Diane observes.

“I guess, but not being with her when everything around us is falling apart was hard – for both of us. We’re better together.”

Diane smiles. “Well then, it sounds like it’s the right move for you both.”

“Yeah, I just hope she doesn’t regret it.” She immediately wishes she had not been so open. “I mean…”

Diane tips her head to one side. “Why would she regret it?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “The last time you were here, I told you how broken I am.”

“You think you’re broken?”

“You don’t? I was jealous of Rigo for being dead. I dreamed of finding solace in the clouds.” Maya sighs. “My girlfriend is the sweetest, kindest person that I have ever met. She makes me French toast for breakfast and I want to run in the opposite direction before I ruin it all.” She shrugs. “Because I will ruin it. Because I’m broken.”

Diane twists her lips thoughtfully and Maya hopes that she has a quick fix for her broken thoughts.

“I don’t believe in the idea that people are ‘broken’,” she says.

Maya looks at her cynically. “You’re a therapist, isn’t that your job? To fix broken people?”

“I help heal people,” Diane corrects her. “Look, I think emotional scars are like physical ones – like Travis’s nose. Bad things happen and sometimes that trauma will leave a scar. Some of those scars are deeper than others and take longer to heal, but they do heal. And yes, sometimes those scars will leave a mark forever. But with some kindness and tenderness, it becomes a blemish. Something that you might notice once in a while, but doesn’t impact your life.”

She leans forward in her chair.

“Let me ask you this, Maya. Do you still look for solace in the clouds? With all the stress and craziness of the pandemic, have you thought about disappearing into those clouds to escape?”

Maya shakes her head. “No. I just…” She smiles to herself, understanding the point she is making. “I just want to be with Carina.”

Diane returns her smile. “It sounds to me like those scars of yours are starting to heal. And it takes time, you can’t expect trauma to disappear overnight, even when you take big steps forward. You need to be patient with yourself, you won’t get it right every time.” She smiles. “That’s what an apology is for.”

Maya nods slowly, lost in thought as she takes in Diane���s advice. They have never spoken about her father’s abuse, only his ‘eyes forward’ lesson, but Diane has been doing this job long enough to recognise a deep-rooted fear instilled in someone who worries they will never escape their past.

“I’m gonna go and talk to the rest of the team,” Diane says, standing up. “It was good to see you, Maya. Feel free to call me any time you want to talk, okay?”

Maya stands up to see her out, straightening her shoulders as she shakes off her moment of vulnerability. “Thank you, Diane, for coming stopping by to see us. I appreciate it.”

“You’re doing a great job here. Just remember to go easy on yourself too.”

Diane exits the office and heads upstairs to see who she might find in the beanery. Maya’s eyes drift down to her cell phone, Carina’s message from earlier still answered. She opens it up and types a quick message.

Spaghetti puttanesca sounds great. I can’t wait to spend a quiet night at home with you. I love you.

She can get used to the pasta maker and stinky cheeses,  right?

She is not her father.

* * * * *

Carina dries her hands on the dishtowel and picks up her cell phone, smiling when she reads Maya’s message. She is still getting used to Maya’s shift pattern and spending every other night by herself in her new home – more sometimes, when Maya swaps shifts to be with B team or C team – and she looks forward to the nights when Maya is home with her the most. She misses going out for dinner and especially those evenings when she can persuade Maya to go dancing with her, and she can’t wait for the day when everything reopens; but, for now, a quiet night with her girlfriend is the tonic she needs to get through each difficult day.

She looks around the kitchen at the mess she has created. Just because she doesn’t say it, doesn’t mean that Carina doesn’t know that Maya doesn’t like the chaos she creates in the kitchen with her homemade pasta and hanging basket of vegetables and assortment of Italian cheeses.

But she can’t give them up. There are some days she is barely holding on and looking around at these reminders of home keep her going.

When she was six years old, her Mama had taken her into the local town one Saturday morning. Andrew was just a baby and he had taken his first steps that week, and Carina had been feeling a little put out by all the attention he was getting. Mama knew that and had invited her to help with her chores, their first stop being the local deli. If she stood on tiptoes, she was just tall enough to peer into the cabinet, her sticky figures marking the glass as she tried to keep her balance. In front of her was more cheese than she had ever seen, more than the spread that her aunt and uncle used to put on for every family gathering. They let her try a few – some hard and nutty, some soft and creamy. Afterwards, Mama took her to get a milkshake and it had been just to the two of them, for the first time in a long time, and Carina had been so happy to have that time with her.

When she was eight years old, and Andrew was still a toddler, they had both come down with chicken pox – a gift from another child at Andrew’s nursery. Andrew had been cranky, he wasn’t sleeping and would cry for most of the day. Mama had tried to distract them with the television, back when they only had a few channels to choose from and no internet to scroll through, so they had to settle on something they would both watch. On day three, Carina developed some blisters in her mouth and had refused to eat, complaining that it hurt too much. Mama had sat them down at the kitchen table and they had chopped up fruit – soft fruit for Carina and Andrew with their blunt knives, apples and pears for Mama. They had made fruit smoothies for Carina to drink, adding ice to the blender so that the liquid was cool against her sore throat, and she remembers how comforted she was by the care they both showed her.

When she was thirteen years old, she’d had her heart broken for the first time. Everyone called it a silly crush, a boy called Bruno in her class who all the girls liked. Carina had been on top of the world when he had invited her to the cinema on a Saturday afternoon, except she had been left waiting for him, only to find out that he had stood her up to take another girl bowling. She had called home, sobbing down the payphone to her Papa, who had jumped straight into his car to come pick her up. He had taken her to the family restaurant run by Zia Alice and Zio Ricardo, where they had pulled her into the kitchen and let her help them make dinner for the early diners. It had been the first time she had ever made ravioli, filling them with lobster and ricotta and sausage meat, and her Zio Ricardo had praised her delicacy with the thin pasta sheets he had rolled out.

When Mama and Andrew left for America, her Nonna had turned up and dragged her into the kitchen to teach her how to make her famous minestrone soup, packed full of vegetables and beans and pasta. Carina had not cared much for it at the time, but the chopping and stirring and seasoning had distracted her from the gaping hole in her heart at losing two of her most favourite people in the whole world. It became her go-to meal during medical school when she was stressed by her studies and exams. It is the same soup her Nonna brought round every day in the week after Mama died, with fresh bread from the bakery, forcing her to sit and eat when her grief weighed her down so heavily.

As she looks around the kitchen now, these memories fill her mind and, if she closes her eyes, she is back in Italy, the sights and sounds and smells of home flooding her senses. Despite the aching in her heart from the distance between them, thoughts of her family also bring her comfort, knowing that she carries them with her wherever she is.

Her Papa continues to avoid her calls. He sent her a text message a few days ago, talking about a Covid research project that he is trying to start. He didn’t ask how she was, or how Andrew was doing, or what life was like for them in America. His focus was solely on himself and his work, like usual. In fact, Carina can’t remember the last time he expressed any concern for her or her brother, even though he knows about Andrew’s recent breakdown. Not that she is surprised. Acknowledging Andrew’s bipolar would mean acknowledging his own, and he refuses to do that.

It is too late in the day to call him, so she sends him a message, asking if he has checked in with the family lately. Her Nonna is sick, but refuses to leave the house to see a doctor. It is almost like she is resigned to her fate. If she is going to die, she is going to do it on her own terms and in her own bed. She has always been stubborn and, despite the grief she feels at potentially losing one of the most important women in her life, Carina can’t help but smile at how she refuses to let anyone else dictate her life – although it is a smile tinged with sadness, like so many are these days.

Every positive has a negative, and every negative has a positive – that is how life feels at the moment.

She shakes her body, as if trying to expel the negative feelings from her, returning to the kitchen to tidy up. She needs to keep busy on her days off when Maya is working to stop her from sitting with her feelings too much.

Dinner is a lonely affair. Maya video calls her from her office to say hello, but no sooner as she has answered, the station alarm goes off and Maya has to go. Not in the mood to spend the night in front of the television, Carina retreats to the bedroom to curl up under the sheets with her book. Reading has become a relief from the real world, escaping into in the lives of fictional characters who don’t have to worry about a global pandemic.

It is just after ten o’clock when her eyes start to droop, tired from reading. She perseveres for a while until it is no good and the letters start rearranging themselves on the page. She is about to turn in for the night when her cell phone rings. There are only three people in her contact list who have their own ringtone: Maya, Andrea… and Papa.

It is almost eight a.m. in Italy and she answers immediately.

“Papa, ciao.”

Vincenzo DeLuca doesn’t bother with a ‘hello’. Instead, he launches straight into telling her more about the Covid trial he is trying to start. Carina tries to interject but he ignores her, and in the end she gives up, letting him talk at her instead of to her.

“So, are you in?”

“In what?”

Vincenzo sighs dramatically. “To help with my trial,” he says. “Me in Italy, you and Andrea in America. The DeLucas working together again!”

It is like he has forgotten how badly it went the last time when he came to Seattle with his external gestational sac project.

“I also have some contacts in England and Switzerland who are interested.”

“Do you have the money to fund this project?” Carina questions.

She hears him purse his lips. “Not exactly. I was hoping you and Andrea could…”

“No Papa,” Carina cuts him off.

“Carina!”

“Papa, are you staying safe? Wearing a mask and following the rules?” Carina asks, using the phone call as a chance to check up on him. “Have you talked to Nonna recently?”

Nonna may be her Mama’s mom, but the Rossi family had set aside their misgivings about her father to embrace him into their family when Lucia and Andrew had moved to America – or they had tried to. Vincenzo was resistant, of course, although he leaned on them to help raise his wilful daughter.

“This trial could help her,” Vincenzo says. “It could open up new treatment methods, maybe even a cure. Imagine it, Carina – the DeLuca vaccine!”

“Papa…”

“Are you willing to help me or not?” Vincenzo demands, growing impatient. “Or are you just going to waste your career delivering babies?”

It is a common trait with him, resorting to insults when he is not getting his own way. Carina – being the person who often tells him ‘no’ – is used to bearing the brunt of these insults, usually at the expense of her chosen field.

“I don’t just deliver babies, Papa, you know that,” she reminds him, but it falls on deaf ears.

“You have the chance to be at the forefront of developing medicine! To excel!” Vincenzo says. “You have the chance to do something worthwhile for a change.”

“What I do is worthwhile,” Carina says.

“Pfft. This trial could lead to accolades and awards. Money for whatever research projects you want to do in the future. You could move away from obstetrics and go into a proper speciality.”

Carina bites her lip. She knows that arguing with him is pointless when he is like this, and her silence aggravates him even more.

“Fine, don’t help me,” Vincenzo says. “I’ll call Andrea, he has always excelled greater than you anyway.”

Carina blinks back tears as he hangs up the phone. Maybe she should have been more willing to listen to him, to hear him out – to keep him calm. But there is no calming Papa when he is manic.

She sends Andrew a quick message to warn him to be wary if he gets a phone call from their Papa, then sends another to Maya to let her know that she is about to sleep and that she loves her, comforted when she gets a quick response, telling her she is loved back.

Carina turns off the light and closes her eyes – not that sleep comes easily. She is too wound up by her father’s phone call to be able to rest. She tosses and turns for the next few hours, wishing Maya was there to soothe her, until exhaustion wins.

Her alarm wakes her up the next morning after a disturbed night, marred by dreams of her mama and papa and family, that all start happily but finish with twisted endings where someone gets sick and dies, because that is what keeps happening to the people she loves right now and she can’t control it or stop it from happening.  

Maya is running late after her shift thanks to a late night call to a house fire, which upsets her even more, because it means they will only have a brief moment together before Carina has to get to work. She is packing the last of her belongings into her bag when Maya walks into the apartment.

“Hey,” Carina greets her, noticing the exhaustion in the way she looks and moves.

In the comfort of her own home, Maya removes her mask and walks towards her, one hand reaching out, and seeking a kiss.

Despite the desire for her physical touch, Carina leans away. “Ah ah ah ah ah, shower first,” she insists. She won’t break her own rules, always fearful that they might make the other one sick. It might be pedantic, but it is one thing that Carina can control.

“Seriously?” Maya questions her.

Carina’s skin prickles with irritation. Maya knows the rules, she knows how important it is that they keep each other safe. “Bella…”

Clearly disgruntled, Maya takes her bag from her shoulder and dumps it unceremoniously on the table with a heavy sigh as she strips herself of her denim jacket. “Okay, I'm sorry, but what is with our kitchen becoming a cheese cellar?”

Carina recognises immediately that she is trying to pick a fight, which is usually a sign that there is something on her mind that she is trying to work through.

“It reminds me of home,” Carina says, trying not to take the bait.

“Yeah, I know. You said that, but it is starting...”

Carina usually has more patience when Maya is like this. In the past, she would have insisted that they talk about it but she learned the hard way that pushing Maya to talk when she isn’t ready isn’t the right thing to do.

Except the lack of sleep and constant worry she carries means she doesn’t have any patience for her grumpy mood today.

“Maya, my home is really scary right now. It's worse than here – and here is really bad.” She thinks of the phone call from Papa last night. “I'm… I'm scared for my dad.” She steps back into the kitchen to create some space between them.

Maya’s shoulders drop, realising that she has slipped back into the pattern that she is trying so desperately to break.

“He was never the one to follow the rules,” Carina continues, “and I cannot be there to take care of him and to make sure that he does what he's supposed to. So, um…” Her voice starts to shake as she pours herself a coffee into her travel mug. “It feels good to look up and to be reminded of… of the good memories of Italy instead of the constant fear and worry.”

She wants Maya to get it, she needs her to get it. She needs Maya to have as much patience with her way of dealing with this messy world as Carina has for hers.

“I'm sorry,” Maya says eventually. Her body language tells Carina that she means it.

“You don't have to be,” Carina concedes, giving her some slack. She doesn’t want to argue with her about this, or anything. She walks back towards the table and places her mug next to her bag. “I’ve gotta go get ready to bring some babies into this terrifying world.”

She heads into the bedroom to grab her jacket.

“I did that today,” Maya calls after her.

“You did what?” She steps back into the hallway as she pulls on her coat.

Maya moves across the apartment to stand in front of her. “I brought a baby into this terrifying world.”

Carina raises her eyebrows curiously. “You did?”

It feels like a concession from Maya, like a way of finding common ground between the two of them after their sniping.

“I mean, brought – maybe more like caught,” Maya explains.

Now Carina is even more curious. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, first I'm gonna shower,” Maya says, turning playful, “and then I will tell you all about it – naked, in bed.”

If she is trying to make up for snapping, it works. She pulls Carina into the bedroom, making her laugh. “No. No Maya!”

Once inside the bedroom, Carina wriggles out of Maya’s grasp. “I can’t. I want to but I have to get to work.”

Maya pouts. “Tonight then?”

Carina nods. “Si.” She watches as Maya pulls off her t-shirt and pants, sees her relax a little from whatever caused her to snap when she walked into the apartment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…”

She is pretty sure that Maya is about to tell her she is fine, but she stops herself, the corners of her mouth dropping.

“I’m trying,” Maya says. “Us, living together, sharing a space that used to be mine. I know I’m not very good at it sometimes, but I’m trying.”

Carina feels her stomach flip. “Do… do you still want to do this?”

“Live together? Of course I do,” Maya assures her. “I want it so much. I’m just… I’m adjusting, that’s all.”

“Me too,” Carina says. “You’re not the only one who’s used to living alone, remember? It’s new to me too.”

Maya smiles. It never ceases to amaze her how understanding Carina is with her. “So tonight? Me and you?”

Carina smirks. “Me and you – and Andy?”

Maya blushes. “Right, I forgot.”

Carina’s cell phone pings. “Ah, it’s Bailey, there’s a trauma coming in she needs me for. I’d better go.” She pauses. “We’ll find our hole, you know?”

Maya shoots her a look that tells her she didn’t get that one right, her lips twitching with amusement.

“Slit?”

“Worse than hole,” Maya says, laughing. “You mean we’ll find our ‘groove’?”

“Ah, si, yes,” Carina says, with a resolute nod. “We will.”

With a lingering look at her half-naked girlfriend, Carina steps out of the bedroom in search of her bag, smiling to herself when a cry of “I love you” follows her down the hallway.

[ohmyitsfaith]

The sunshine and the grump

Pairing: Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Summary: “Hi!! I hope you're having a great day or night!,can I request a Ben hargreeves x Fem reader who's very loving and sensitive ,like she's silent and introverted with strangers but very extroverted with her loved ones and always supportive and very caring?,bonus points if she has chonky cat who's lazy and loves Ben! That's all!💓💓” -Requested by @weepingprincepeace��

Warnings: Sparrow!Ben being sparrow Ben? oh, also swearing

Word count: 2k

A/n: Thank you for the request, sorry it took so long!

The first time you met Ben Hargreeves was at a store robbery. You were an unfortunate customer at the cash register when the two masked robbers came in and not only demanded to get cash from the register, but forced you and the cashier to the floor. One was holding you and the cashier back, threatening you with his gun while the other got all the cash out of the register and from your purse.

Thankfully Ben walked in right as they went to hit the two of you in the head and two tentacles got the job done, without him breaking a sweat.

“Are you okay?” Ben helped you and the cashier up, the two tentacles still holding the now unconscious robbers.

“I’m gonna call the cops” the cashier walked away on shaky legs.

You on the other hand were too scared to say anything and too shaky to walk. So instead you just nodded. Ben’s hands stayed on your waist to keep you upright, for which you were simultaneously grateful and made you blush like a schoolgirl.

“Are you hurt?” Ben asked again, wanting to make sure that you were alright.

“No” you whispered, your anxiety keeping your voice under wraps.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m… I”m Y/n” you managed to get out.

“Alright, Y/n. We’re gonna wait for the cops and then I’ll take you home, alright?”

“No” you panicked. “No, don’t.”

“Y/n, you can barely walk from the shock, I’m not gonna let you walk home.”

Ben wasn’t sure why he insisted. Or why he actually cared. He didn’t know you, he had no actual emotional attachment to you. So why? What made him care? What was so special about you?

He didn’t know. And he wouldn’t know until the next time you accidentally met.

He was at a bar with Chris and a couple of girls, just drinking and having fun. After taking you home approximately two weeks ago, he did not expect to see you again. Yet you were constantly on his mind. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way you would tuck your hair behind your ears. Or maybe just that you were shy and sweet. He didn’t know you that well yet, but he could tell.

So when he noticed you coming into the bar, he was shocked but happy to see you. Not like he would ever admit that… to anyone but especially you.

But he couldn’t help going over to the bar and greeting you.

“Hey” he said simply, making you turn around.

“Hey” you looked down at your hands, instantly feeling self-conscious.

“Good to see you’re okay.”

You just nodded, feeling too anxious to keep up a conversation. Truth is, it wasn’t only Ben, who was thinking about you a lot. You did as well. For some reason, the notoriously always grumpy Ben Hargreeves was nothing but kind to you and you felt compelled to understand why. Even if that was made harder by your anxiety.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked, swearing to himself that this was the last time he would try to talk to you if he couldn’t get an answer out of you.

“I…” you started, mustering up all your courage, “just a coke, thanks.”

“A coke? You came to drink soda at a bar?” he asked, but ordered it for you anyway.

“Well…” you exhaled. “I usually… um… come here to just… to just be somewhere. I don’t like to drink.”

“You do you” he shrugged and handed you your coke. “Well, see you around.”

“Wait” you grabbed his wrist in a sudden burst of confidence. “You… uh… you could stay” you told him. “If you want.”

Ben’s heart fluttered in a weird way he didn’t understand. He looked at where Chris was, but quickly made a decision and sat down next to you.

That night he got to know you a little bit and even convinced you to give him your number. So it was a total success for him. And it was a total success for you too because in a long time he was the first person you could really talk to without being a stuttering, blushing mess.

Your friendship blossomed in a matter of months. Ben started being less bitchy around you and started smiling when he was with you. He learned that you were actually a chatterbox if someone really got to know you. Whenever he had a bad day, you made sure he felt better in no time. You were always excited to hear about his day or week depending on the times he managed to call. You even loved hearing about his siblings even if the thought of meeting them made you incredibly anxious. You also always supported him whenever he needed it. You never said to him to fix it himself or anything.

So was it a surprise that he fell for you? Not really. At first, it was to him, but then he thought it through and he had to admit that it really wasn’t a shock. So, after a while, he gathered all the courage he had and asked you out. And oh boy, was he happy when you accepted!

That’s when he started hanging out at your apartment. He loved being there, especially after getting to know your lazy cat C/n (cat name). He loved the cat and he loved when he would greet him with small licks. After a while, it was obvious to him that the cat loved him just as much as he loved him.

Around the second month of your relationship, Ben took you to meet his family. Of course, you were scared about meeting them, but with Ben by your side, you felt at least a little bit at ease.

“Don’t worry, they’re gonna love you” he promised, looking you in the eye as you stood before the gates.

“Okay” you breathed out, trying to calm your heart. “It’s just-”

“I know” his hand cupped your cheek. “But you have nothing to be scared of. I’m here and I’ll be here through this.”

“Thank you” you held his hand on your cheek.

Ben smiled at you and pressed a gentle and loving kiss to your lips.

“Are you ready?”

You nodded and Ben opened the front door to let you into the Sparrow Academy.

The house was huge, you saw that from only the entrance. You knew that despite everything, Ben and his family lived in great conditions. And if the entrance amazed you, then you didn’t have words for the living area. It was honestly bigger than your apartment.

Ben’s arm was around your waist as you marveled at your surroundings. And it tightened the moment he noticed his siblings looking down at the pair of you from the balcony.

“Nice of you to show up” Fei said sarcastically, which made you look up and practically shrink back into Ben at the sudden attention.

“I was busy” Ben replied.

“I can imagine” Fei was unamused.

“Who’s the pretty lady?” Jayme chimed in.

“She's my girlfriend, dipshit.”

“Jayme, play nice. She’s clearly frightened” Marcus tried to calm his siblings. “Hello. We’re Ben’s siblings. I’m Marcus, the leader. These are Fei, Jayme, Alphonso, and Chris. Sloane hasn’t arrived yet.”

“Hi” you waved shyly. ”I’m Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you” Marcus nodded.

“Yeah, you as well.”

That’s when Grace decided to come in.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting company. I’ll make cookies!” she turned around immediately, a bright smile on her face.

“That’s Grace. She’s a robot. She cleans and cooks” Ben provided and you nodded.

That afternoon, you got to know Ben’s siblings. At first, you were shy and quiet, but as you grew more comfortable, you started talking more carefree. It was especially nice when along with the cookies, arrived Sloane, who was the nicest person ever.

“Oh, you must be Ben’s girlfriend! I’m Sloane” she greeted you with an enthusiastic hug.

“I’m Y/n” you said after she let you go.

“Sloane” Ben warned.

“Oh, don’t worry! Y/n and I will be great friends” she smiled so big, you were surprised how it didn’t hurt her.

And true to her words, you and Sloane became not only great friends but best friends. She was a bowl of sunshine and it really helped you to ease into this new situation quicker. She was always so supportive and kind, it was really refreshing.

It was a surprise to no one when on your first anniversary, Ben took you out for a nice dinner. You suspected what was gonna happen, but you let it all play out, not wanting to interfere with his plans. You didn’t take Ben as an anxious person and generally speaking, he really wasn’t. But this was a big step for you both.

“Take my hand” Ben requested.

“Why?” you asked, but lifted your hand to place it in his.

“I’m trying to ask you to marry me, so take my damn hand!” he blurted out, his nerves getting the better of him.

“Alright” you chuckled and squeezed his hand.

“Y/n, I know that I’m not the type of person to actively show my love. I’m not normal either. My life and family is a fuck up, a real challenge. But I love you. I love you from the bottom of my heart and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Because you make me a better person. So Y/n L/n, will you marry me?”

Your heart was beating in your ear and you really fucking hoped that this was not a dream. That Ben Hargreeves was really on one knee in front of you, asking you to marry him.

“Yes” you whispered, not trusting your voice.

“Yes? You really will?”

“Of course” you nodded, feeling tears running down your cheek.

Ben jumped up and pulled you in for a hug. A hug so tight it made your heart hurt with realization. This meant so much to Ben. It finally convinced him that there is someone who really loves him and cares about him.

“Thank you” you felt weird thanking him, but honestly, you were thankful.

“What for?” he pulled away slightly.

“For loving me and sticking by my side, even though it was hard at first.”

“I should thank you then. I was an asshole.”

“No” you shook your head. “From day one, you have been so kind to me. I love you.”

“I love you too” he pressed a kiss to your lips, which you reciprocated easily.

And that was something the two of you incorporated into your vows a few months later. With Fei and Sloane as your bridesmaids (Jayme refused to wear a dress, but said that she was honored) and Chris as Ben’s best man (you learned to understand him even though it was challenging at times), you got married to Ben Hargreeves.

And that meant that you and C/n moved into the Sparrow Academy. Your life changed for the better and you had Ben to thank for that. His family became yours and you knew that they’d always be there for you, just as you’d always be there for them.

Honestly, life was great. You had everything you could ever wish for. You had an amazing husband, his family, and your cat. It was usually calm at the mansion and even when it wasn’t, it didn’t cause you any problems. So everything was great. Nothing could bring your mood down, right?

The alarm blasted through the space, summoning the sparrows. They were all dressed in their uniforms, standing on the balcony as you stood beside Ben.

“Dad, who are these assholes?”

Well, maybe your life won’t be so calm now.

[Masterlist] [Next]

[quindolyn]

Could you do a marauders x reader fluff?? Like a poly relationship and it’s like Valentine’s Day or sumthing love ur writing <3

Armfuls of Sunshine || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 2365

A/N: It’s not really valentines day in the fic or any holiday like that, it’s just that swim weather is setting in for me and I want a lazy day at the lake with the boys so this is completely self indulgent. I know I haven’t been writing a lot I’ve just been a bit overwhelmed and I wish I could say that this is a sign that my life is mellowing out but I’m afraid that it is actually to the contrary. In summary, don’t get your hopes up

Warnings: hastily written, tired while written, fem reader, kisses, lake day so reader is wearing a swimsuit, mentions of Remus’ body image issues and allusions to Sirius’ past abuse from his parents

Masterlist

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back to rest against Sirius’ shoulder who sat behind you with you between his legs. Sitting by the Black Lake he was shirtless, you adorned only in a modest two piece swimsuit leaving the skin of your belly exposed so that Sirius could trace shapes along the soft skin. With your back pressed to his chest and the sun’s rays hitting your front you were surrounded by warmth, like a nice little cocoon you were tucked into. 

With your head against his shoulder you left the side of your neck open, vulnerable, allowing him to drip down wordlessly and brush his lips over the delicate skin before finding your sweet spot on the back of your neck and nipping lightly, his hands moving to grip your hips so you couldn’t squirm out of the hold he had on you.

“Siri!” You giggled, feeling Sirius grin into the side of your neck, getting just the reaction out of you that he had wanted.

“Shhh Puppy,” He whispered condescendingly in your ear, “Gotta be quiet, can’t wake up Jamie,” He nodded his head over to your right where just mere inches from you laid the slumbering boy, all messy black curls, hazel eyes, and with a physique that had you weak in the knees every time you saw him.

Currently his back was on display for you as he laid on his stomach, his hands resting beneath his forehead acting as a pillow, you admired the way the sunlight illuminated his skin and you could see the muscles subtly shift under that skin as he breathed deeply in his sleep.

Watching him, you became aware of just how hot the sun had gotten in the hour or so the three of you had been lounging out there, waiting for Remus to finish up his prefect duties so that the four of you could go cool off in the water together. 

“We should wake him up, Siri,” You voiced, lifting yourself slightly from his lap in attempts to wake up James but quickly strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you back down to the spot between his muscled thighs.

“Oh come on baby, you don’t wanna do that, you know how grumpy the baby gets when you wake him up from a nap,” He murmured this mockingly into your neck, hoping that the boy he spoke of wouldn’t be able to hear him but as James let out a disgruntled groan and began to fidget you knew he was waking up.

Ignoring Sirius’ snarky remark, you leaned forward once more, this time Sirius’ hands just keeping a steady hold on your hips while making no effort to pull you back.

“Hey baby,” You crooned, supporting your weight on one hand pressed firmly to the ground while the other moved to bury itself deep in James’ locks, scratching with your nails the way you know he liked on his scalp, smiling at the content grunt the boy let out at your ministrations.

Gazing down at him you let your eyes scan his back once more, frowning as you noticed the slight pink tinge beginning to taint his skin, a precursor to what could be a wicked sunburn if not properly prevented. Letting your hand slip from his scalp you ran it down his neck and down his back, he was warmer than he should’ve been, it wasn’t just ‘laying in the sun’ kinda warm it was ‘beginning to fry’ kinda hot.

“Jamie,” You muttered again, louder this time so that you might be able to get more of his attention, “Jamie, wake up.”

“Hmmm?” He hummed, turning onto his side so that he was facing you, eyes slowly blinking open, squinting as they were flooded with the harsh light of the warm sun. He scooched himself so that he was still lying on his side but so that his head was resting against the hard planes of Sirius’ thigh, nuzzling into the soft skin half covered by his swim shorts which stopped at his mid thigh.

“You’re starting to get sunburned Jamie, can’t have our pretty boy getting hurt,” You explained to him the reason for your disturbance, returning your hand to his hair as he inched up the material of Sirius’ shorts to press kisses to his leg.

You felt Sirius shiver from behind you at the contact of James’ pretty lips on some of his most sensitive skin and you found his hand, interlacing your fingers to give him a squeeze.

“But the sun feels good,” James countered between kisses pressed to Sirius’ leg, not going higher or lower, just dancing around the circumference, tracing where the bottom of the shorts would usually sit.

“I know it does,” You agreed, gazing down at one of your three beautiful boys, “But how about you lay on your back for a little bit, let your tummy get some sun and then we’ll put on more sunscreen and hopefully by that time we’re done Rem will be done and we can go in the water.”

“Hmph,” James looked up at you, he was positioned in such a way that sunlight danced through his hazel irises, making him appear even more ethereal than usual, his tan skin glowing in the mid afternoon sun. He was the picture of effortless beauty.

It was unfair how easily the boy tanned, it was something Sirius in particular was envious of but as he positioned himself so that his lips were pressed to the shell of your ear, “He’s gorgeous isn’t he?” 

“Breathtaking,” You nodded, only breaking your eyes away from James’ face when his eyes flitted back down to the thigh he used as a pillow, resuming his dusting of feather light kisses. “Just as breathtaking as you are,” Twisting your neck you were nose to nose with Sirius, pale skin stretched across his angular features shimmered beautifully in the sun, like someone had dusted glitter along his skin in his sleep making him look almost god like.

Your eyes flickered from his unnaturally ruby red lips to his grey eyes where you noticed a smear of black makeup beginning at the corner of his eye. You lifted your hand to your mouth, licking the pad of your thumb, before extending out from the corner of the boy’s eye where his eyeliner from earlier was smudged against his porcelain skin. 

Allowing his eyes to flutter closed Sirius leaned into your touch and you felt your heart swell, there had been a point during your relationship with the three men where you reaching for his face would’ve caused him to flinch and back away, and even if your hand had somehow managed to make it to his face he would’ve sat there awkwardly and rigid until you pulled away. 

But this comfort was a demonstration of the trust that had formed, not just between the two of you but all four of you, even if one member was absent at the moment.

“There we go,” You murmured, pulling your hand back to your lap, though Sirius followed it, not wanting to break contact with you until the las possible second.

“Better now?”

“Much.”

Casting your gaze back down at the near comatose form of one of your other boyfriends you frowned as James had still yet to shift so that his back wasn’t exposed to the sun.

Though Sirius pretended not to care as much as you he too noticed the pinkish tint James’ skin was starting to take on. Resting one of his hands, stronger than yours, on James' face he began rubbing small circles on his cheek, occasionally running his fingers through the other boy’s hair to keep it out of his way.

“She’s right Jamesie,” His low baritone sounded, “Don’t need you with a sunburn so roll over for us, can put your head right back in my lap, just want you to be okay.”

“But m’comfy,” The other boy protested into Sirius’ thigh, saliva spilling out onto the hard canvas of muscle.

Knowing that if James wasn’t going to listen to you or Sirius there was one person whose opinion would matter you spoke, “Can’t have Remmy worrying about you Jamie,” You implored gently, “We’re out here to help him relax,” 

You were right, with the full moon in a matter of days Remus had been high strung, constantly fidgeting, lost in his head, spacing out during class while also hyper fixating on the most minute of details. The boy was a tightly wound mess and desperately just needed a relaxing afternoon with his three favorite people. 

If he even had an inkling that one of you was anything other than completely fine he would focus all of his energy in on that, forgetting the real reason you were supposed to be out there together.

It was those words that seemed to reach James and had him turning over onto his back so that the back of his head was now cradled in his hands which were interlocked and resting upon Sirius’ thigh, his strong, muscled legs kicked out underneath him, his ankles crossed.

You allowed your eyes to run up and down James’ impressive form, thighs just as beautiful, but more defined that Sirius’ but hidden behind a pair of coral swim trunks. His abs were without a doubt the most defined out of all four of you, like his thighs this part of his physique could be attributed to countless hours on the Quidditch pitch, training him and his team ruthlessly, pushing every physical boundary. It had obviously paid off as the strong muscles of his biceps and triceps flexed as he had his arms positioned to prop his head up.

Flicking your glance behind you you noticed that Sirius was appreciating the view just as much as you were, and who could really blame you? James was gorgeous, and he was all yours just as the stunnig boy behind you was.

Once again pushing yourself out of Sirius’ lap you used your hands to stabilize your body on the ground, your palms pressed flat against the soft material of the towel that was laid out underneath you so that your face was mere inches above James. You didn’t even bother waiting for him to close his eyes before you were melding your lips with his, closing your eyes in contentment as you felt his lips fall open for yours, his tongue peeking out to trace your soft cushions.

Reaching a hand up to cup your jaw James used it to pull your face down closer towards his. You released a muffled “umph” as you were forced to drop from your hands to your forearms to support yourself comfortably and James gently took your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping gently as he deepened the kiss.

Before you could reciprocate, matching his passion, there were another pair of strong hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you away from James’ lips and out of Sirius’ lap. 

You let out a high pitched shriek at the sudden, unexpected motion and with what appeared to be minimal effort the hold on you shifted from your waist to supporting you under the bend of your knees and the small of your back.

Not being alarmed as the deep laughter that erupted from the figure was not only familiar but reassuring, you rested your head against Remus’ chest, having recognized him instantly. Inhaling deeply the scent of the thin t-shirt he’d thrown on before making his way down to the lake after finishing his prefect duties you knew that it was no doubt either Sirius’ or James’ as the three boys rarely ever wore their own shirts, always preferring each other’s.

“Hi Rem,” You smiled, gazing up at his visage from your place in his arms, you squinted because his head was positioned directly in front of the sun, making it look like there was a brilliant halo glowing around him.

“Hi baby, I missed you,” He cooed down at you, pressing a sweet and simple peck to your puckered lips before rising back up to his full height, still cradling you in his arms.

“You can put me down now Remmy,” You giggled, not satisfied with the brief kiss he’d given you, you clasped his jaw similarly to the way James had yours to bring his lips back down to yours. 

But once again, much to your chagrin, he kept the kiss short, no matter the firm hand you kept on his jaw, perhaps even shorter than the last once before pulling away and setting you down softly on the ground, taking great care to ensure you were balanced before letting go of his hold on you.

“Neither of those were real kisses,” You complained, resting your hand against his chest, your head at a near ninety degree angle to look up at the male who towered over you.

“No?” He asked teasingly.

Rising to the bait you answered, “No.”

“Don’t whine baby,” Sirius chimed in from where he laid, still lounging upon the ground, “Remmy’s had a very exhausting day (Y/N), can’t blame him if his kissing isn’t what it usually is.” 

Pushing himself up off the ground Sirius sauntered over to where you and Rem stood, making a show as he carelessly flinging his arms around Remus’ neck.

“Now come on Remus,” He ordered with a false arrogance, “Carry me to the water!” Letting his head fall back dramatically he stood there expectantly but was met only with Remus’ light laughter as he ducked out from under the smaller boy’s arms. 

“I don’t think so Pads,” Remus said as pulled off his shirt, you grinned at the seemingly unimportant action but just as Sirius trusting you to touch him made your heart soar so did this. Remus proudly and carelessly displaying all of the beautiful scars that decorated his chest made you so proud of the progress the four of you had all made together.

“Get Jamie to carry you,” Once again lifting you into his arms Remus pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Already got my arms full.” 

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby @pinkandblueblurbs @st0nesnglitter @miraclesoflove @priii @wholebigboxofyikes @advictedtohim @gubleryum @temporaryissue @emmaev @zzzfour @itsmentalillness

[hpalways]

Yaksha’s Destiny || Xiao

DARKNESS was the biggest fear held by fellow Yakshas. This power bestowed upon you and many alike gave an opening to the pitting shadows that raged within your chambers. Some days, it wasn't as bad -- other days... it felt like you were getting ripped apart into shreds, taking in all your willpower to battle against it. It was tempting, to give in and call it quits. Life for a Yaksha wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. There were always too many demons and not enough heroes. Especially for a weaker one like you, anger and frustration would stem from these battles, only to eat at you later on. 

Today was one of those days. The sky was a stormy sea of clouds, with the Gods crying from the heaven above. Droplets prickled down your bare skin, cold to the touch. While in the mountainside, you had stumbled upon demonic energy, so there was no choice but to finish them off. 

Dodging the monster that lunged at you, you took out your polearm. The hydro vision on your hip gleamed brightly in the setting. Taking a turn, you could feel power surge to your arms. As you were about to jab your weapon into the demon's abdomen, they had ducked in time. Shit. You had underestimated this one.

Its body rammed into you, knocking you off your feet. Air left your system, causing you to groan in pain. Just as it was about to sink its teeth into your arm, you rolled over on one side and jumped back to your feet. Fingers clenching tightly around the metal stick, you pushed your hind legs and tried to stab at it another time. Your speed and reaction time was too slow. Too damn slow. Too damn weak. Gritting your teeth, you began to use up more of Yaksha's power, drinking the exhilarating taste of freedom. It was so addicting... often times, you'd wished it'd never stop. 

A burst of water shrouded from the weapon, circling the demon until it was surrounded. With one, clean fell swoop, you sliced the demon and the energy faded away. The deed was done. 

Falling to your knees, your entire body was shaking. Face contorted and in pain, nails dug into the earth to feel wet mud. Your body would not move -- it could not. Stilling there as if you had just been paralyzed, hungering thoughts plagued your mind... Thoughts you wished weren't yours. Letting out a disgusting whimper, similar to that of a wounded animal, you bit down on your lip, hard. Blood dribbled down your chin, painting the grass in crimson. Tugging at your mask, you stared at it for a moment. A sigh let out. 

That was a close one. Crashing to the ground, your chest heaved up and down in exhaustion. 

A figure suddenly entered your peripheral vision. Climbing up to the ridge of the mountain was Xiao, his dark teal locks blowing along with the harsh winds. Donned in his usual robes, he was as attractive as ever. The first time you stumbled upon him -- one of the famous five -- you nearly forgot to breathe. You had referred to him as Alatus then, starstrucked by such a powerful being. 

You would never not awed by him. The way he held himself would always come to remind you of the big gap in strength between the two of you. Maybe you did establish a relationship with this all-mighty Yaksha, but this inferiority complex was tugging your strings more than you'd like to admit. 

At the same time, he provided you the distraction needed. He kept you grounded, which prevented you from going mad. He was the only one who made you feel human, if that was even possible. 

Golden amber hues landed on you, withholding an unreadable expression. He walked up to your beaten up form and sat down, unbothered by the rain. Struggling to get yourself into a sitting position, you looked out at the view in front. 

"You used up too much of your power again," he murmured. 

"Do you think I don't know that? I had no choice," you sighed. 

His sharp eyes narrowed further. "You were being careless."

"It happened. There's nothing I can do to change it." His anger barely dwindled and the scowl only deepened. "Come on, Xiao. I don't want to talk about my mistakes when I'm with you. Busy as we are, I barely get to see you as of late. Can't we just enjoy our brief time together?"

That got him. His eyes softened at your words and he reluctantly nodded in agreement. Seizing the victory, you laid your head on his shoulder, feeling warmth even upon this cold weather. The rain was starting to let down too -- perhaps Xiao was the lucky charm.

"What have you been up to?" you inquired. 

"Demons. Monsters. The usual," he responded. His cheeks tinged with a soft pink all of a sudden. "I... I also got you something."

Your ears perked up at the sound of this. Lifting your head, you watched him in curiosity. He took something out from his robe pockets and slowly opened his palm. Laying there was a blue, glowing object. Shaped as a butterfly, it was gorgeous. You had never seen this kind of butterfly around these parts. He must have traveled far to have found it. 

"It's a crystalfly," he mumbled, averting his eyes in embarrassment. Your heart raced at his actions. He was too cute. Before meeting him, you could have never imagined the Vigilant Yaksha to possess such qualities. "I saw it and... thought it would look good in your hair."

"Oh, I love it. Thank you," you whispered breathlessly, touched beyond words. This was exactly what you meant with how Xiao could easily brush your problems away with a smile.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and kissed his lips. They were soft as petal leaves. He returned the gesture immediately, arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. Digging your fingers into his hair, you kissed with a ferocity that was never present in your fights. This was to release the pain you dealt with today. As long Xiao was here, you were going to be okay. As long as he was by your side, you were going to be okay. This era of demons and gods will end someday, leaving you a happy future with him. 

You tasted him. His lips. His mouth. His entire self. He tasted of mint. He tasted of life. He tasted of iron. The kind of metal tang found in blood. Sighs were exchanged upon each kiss, breathless but the two of you would not let the other go. Your lips trailed down to his jaw, peppering his baby-soft skin with a few nibbles here and there. He let out a gasp. 

Finally you pulled away, giggling at his flustered state for your bold moves. 

The end was nearing. He picked up the crystal fly and reached up to your [h/c] hair. While he gently pinned it down, you could only focus on his swollen lips. He was beautiful... and you loved him so. 

"[Y/N]," he said, interrupting the honey silence of the mountains. "If you are ever in trouble, just call my name and I will come to you. In any circumstance, avoid overusing your power."

This bliss that left you giddy disappeared as quick as it came. All that remained was the harsh, cruel reality. Brows knitted together in offense and you quickly shook your head. "Why would I do that? I'm a Yaksha. What kind of Yaksha seeks help from another? This wounds my pride, Xiao. Is your faith in my skill and strength that low?"

"No. That's not it," he argued, features twisted in desperation. "Why won't you let me protect you?"

"Unbelievable," you merely scoffed, staggering up to stand. "I have to go. I'm sure you do too."

Ignoring his blubbering protests, you jumped down upon ledges until you reached ground level safely. He didn't understand what you had to go through. He never had to face judgement from those who didn't believe in you. Strong enough to battle the demons both externally and internally, Xiao was different from you. But even so... even if his words meant that he only cared for you, it hurt like you had been just stabbed. 

You were willing to prove to him that you could stand on your own feet. He was going to eat his own words. So would the other Yakshas who looked down on you your entire life. If you trained hard enough, surely improvement could be gained. Right? It wasn't as if destiny could determine what you could accomplish already. 

Approaching the forest that was said to contain many strong demons and monsters, you surged ahead, with eyes filled of challenge. 

There, sitting in a nook was a cave, Sensing a suffocating presence, you knew you had hit a jackpot. Sneaking across the grassy lands, you stayed silent. The tall, towering trees were beginning to look a lot more ominous. Tiptoeing to the edge of the cave, you peered in to find the energy unbearably strong. One staggering breath later and you went forward. A roar let out, signaling that it knew of its intruder. Shoulders tensed up and sweat beaded your forehead, but you couldn't stop now. No matter what, you were going to go through with it. 

It was a beast. Fangs gleamed in the darkness, nearly the size of your weapon. Having woken from its slumber, its terrifying eyes landed on you. Claws swiped the air, which you barely avoided in time. Fear had seized you with a hand, choking you until you could barely move. This was a terrible, foolish move. There was no way you could beat such a demon. 

Calling in more power, it filled you up at the core. To waste no time, you delved right into battle, slashing at the monster. It had little to none effect on it. With a lazy swipe of its arm, it slammed you right into the cave's walls, causing you to spit out blood. Pushing yourself up, you tried again, putting in more power to your weapon. Adding hydro to the mix, the weapon hit its arms. It caused the monster to roar in pain, but that only made it more angry. Barreling straight to you, similar but much more frightening than the last demon, it pounced on you, pinning you down to the ground. 

Drool left its mouth, splattering all over on your face. Its claws dug into your side and you let out a piercing scream. You were so fucking sick of this shit. Why was it destined that you had to stay weak? It was so unfair you wished to cry your heart out. 

The last of the powers was used. Pushing the demon's hold on you, you stumbled up and felt thrill run through. It was delicious, but your mind was also beginning to grow hazy. "X-Xiao..." you uttered out. 

The Conqueror of Demons arrived as soon as you called, anxious to apologize for his insensitivity. What he didn't expect to see was a battlefield. A large and strong demon was torn apart to pieces, the iron smell of it so strong, it was gagworthy. Sitting on the pile of bones was you, dark, gruesome scratches decorating your arms and legs. A deep gash was bleeding from your torso and your [e/c] eyes were dimmed; at the same time, they held a crazed look in them. 

His face paled and his body grew cold at the sight. You did the thing he last wanted to happen. Already too far in and consumed by the darkness surrounding your whole life, you were looking at him not with love, but with bloodlust. "I'll kill you, Xiao!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. 

Climbing down, you tried to run to him. But your footsteps halted and you crashed to the ground. Spazzing out as if you had just been electrocuted by lightning, the Vigilant Yaksha slowly approached you, tears streaming down the side of his face. He kneeled down, cradling your head in his lap. "Don't leave me..." He hit the ground in fury. "Dammit! Why didn't you listen to me!?"

Consciousness returned but you were on the brink of death. The wound was deep, but so were the demons. It was raining again, so you forced a small smile out. "I'm weak. It's my fate," you whispered. "At least I won't have to suffer through this darkness any longer. It's over. I quit. You won, my demons. I am yours to keep."

"Shut your mouth," he snarled. The rain had turned into a storm, adding fury into the mix. "Please. You can make it through this. Don't leave me yet. It was going to get better. An era with no more demons to haunt us. You said so yourself." 

"That was just a stupid dream."

"Don't fucking say that," he growled, flinching as if he'd just been slapped. You were supposed to be the optimist here. It meant that this death was real... and that you would accept it with open arms. "It's going to happen. So hold on. Let me find someone to save you."

Your head shook and you winced. "We all learned this since young. We'll die if we let our power consume us. It's impossible and you know it."

"Stop," he choked out, lowering his head until his hair covered his broken expression. "Then don't talk. Save your breath."

You ignored his words. "Thank you... for the crystalfly. Does it look pretty on me?" you murmured.

He heaved out a sob and slowly nodded. "I've never seen anyone more beautiful."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"And I'm sorry."

"I am too."

"Protect... the people... like you always do, my sweet, Vigilant Yaksha." Your voice grew more raspy by the second, for the pain was getting unbearable. 

You fluttered your eyes shut and the pain faded. On the other hand, Xiao's pain grew, the scars and trauma there to haunt him, for a life and infinity.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Avenger Things - Bucky Barnes x powered (f)reader

Summary: You’re just trying to make it through the day without breaking anything, or anyone.

Warning: language, fluff, bit of nonesense

Masterlist

Practically limping into the Avengers large kitchen you couldn’t believe how sore you were from, well, let’s just say you’re not entirely so sure. What you do know is that it’s the morning after a stealth mission and your more beastly self, if that’s even the correct term, must have done or gotten into something last night that might have knocked you out cold. 

Hence the memory loss.

Honestly you could laugh, it’s like trying to figure out what drunk you was getting themselves into. Problem is, this “drunk you” at the time was 2.4lb of absolute raging adrenaline with an apparent lack of safety awareness and good judgment skills. 

Not a good combination. Also you were a hawk.

So here you are, piecing together the jumbled puzzle of last night while you make an attempt at finding breakfast before the crowds come noisily shuffling into the temporarily quiet hang out room slash luxurious kitchen, of the famous Avengers Facility. Ah, the life of an Avenger who’s fantastical ability allows them to shift into any animal in existence.

Although it’s a blessing, you sometimes suffer the consequences of being an actual avenger, and shit, your left shoulder and rib cage are so sore right now you could scream. Your accelerated healing has already kicked in but alas that does not mean your body will spare you some soreness and bruising.

“Fuck what did I do?” You mutter grumpily while reaching for the fridge door handle, making certain not to pull to hard for fear of ripping the metal right off.

Soon your eyes scan over the multitude of various healthy snacks and equally as healthy leftovers due to Steve’s insistent attitude towards fueling yourselves with the best, to be the best or some cheesy hero shit like that.

Spotting your left over hidden burrito in the back of the fridge sends an excited thrill into your otherwise tired and achy self, you snatch it up quickly, and without thinking pull the metal door off its hinges while quickly trying to close it.

Shit.

Tossing the burrito onto the nearby counter top, you swiftly grasp the large food filled door with both hands as you hold it up with ease. Well this is just a fantastic situation isn’t it? Apparently you’re incapable of having an easy morning like just previously planned. Wait are those footsteps?

“You know, you can just have Tony buy you a mini fridge for your room.” Quips Sam with an amused chuckle as you quickly snap your head over to the startling sound. “I think he could afford it.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise before narrowing in annoyance at his happily smirking face, Bucky and Vision right behind him to your great pissed-off-ness. “Fuck off I didn’t mean to do....this.” But of course it happens to me.

Eyeing you up with a face that practically says “I know but this is hilarious” Sam nods before sitting down on the bar’s stool, Vision coming to your aid as he phases through the counter to take the fridge door out of your hands.

“Thanks Vis.” You mutter with an appreciative nod.

Setting down the door onto the floor, Vision turns to greet you, “No problem Y/N, it appears you needed the help, I’ll just um....go inform Tony of this....fridge.” He says before turning to leave out the way he came. Guess he’s not one for awkward situations.

Watching him go you suddenly glare down at the two whispering Avengers seated in front of you on the other side of the counter, “Thanks for helping assholes.” You growl unenthusiastically, reaching into the fridge to pick up a water bottle.

“Oh doll, we would have helped you.” Assures Bucky with a kind smile as you force yourself to keep a stoic face. “Vision seemed to handle it pretty well on his own.”

“Yeah well now this fucking fridge is broken and I still feel sore.” You complain with a sneer as Bucky and Sam share a chuckle.

“What?” Laughs Sam, “Don’t tell me you both?....and after the mission too?” He implies with raised brows as you send him the most done-with-your-shit face you can muster.

Sensing your growing irritation, Bucky speaks up, “No, no....definitely not that..it was the mission.”

“Oh shit you’re right.” Realizes Sam as you roll your eyes at him, let’s just say that last mission was a rough ending one. Also you can’t remember much after shifting into a hawk, seeing some bright lights and then...

“Yes.” You grumble, “and I’ve come to the thrilling conclusion that I must have gotten hit by a car......so that’s fun.” You mutter with as much enthusiasm as a stick, causing both Bucky and Sam to begin laughing again. What the hell is so funny?

Listening to them lose it inevitably causes you to start chuckling which in turn causes your ribs to shoot with a hot flaring pain. Holding your injured side you use your other hand to pound against the marble table, “Stop laughing this shit hurts and neither of you dumbfucks are helping.” You grumble half-heartedly.

“Alright.” Says Bucky standing up, “Come on doll let’s get outta here and get a heating pad on that tire mark under your shirt.” He adds sarcastically with another laugh.

Letting out a quick snort you shake your head at his handsome face, “Okay smartass I’ll let that one slide.”

He smirks at your good humored reaction and admittedly adorable messy hair, “I’m thinking we get cozy, watch that weird pirate movie you like with the Sparrow guy, and then see where it takes us.” Suggests Bucky with a lazy smile as he stretches his arm causing his shirt to rise up and reveal a bit of toned tummy.

Sam whines, “What? We have sparring at three this afternoon and you’re gonna leave me hanging for Miss. Grouchy-pants over here?” Points out Sam to Bucky as you cross your hands over your chest while raising a brow.

“Yup.” Quips Bucky with a shrug.

Sam blinks, “Unbelievable.”

“I like Y/N more.”

“You suck and I need a new sparring partner now.”

“Just ask Steve or Nat.” You suggest, not caring much for Sam’s problems at the moment.

“No they’re hard-core and mean.”

“Spar with Clint then.” Adds Bucky.

“No he cheap shots.”

“And I got hit by a car last night we all got problems.” You sass, gaining their distracted attentions once again. “Try and steal Bucky from me and I will make sure you remember what getting a wet towel slapped across your ass feels like.”

“Very specific and greatly noted Y/N. He’s all yours.” Says Sam while raising his hands defensively, “By the way you look rather stunning today did I mention that yet?”

“Don’t press your luck bird boy I’m not known to be very forgiving.”

“Clearly.” Jabs Sam under his breath while you take a swig of water, though you’re increased hearing enables you to catch that loud and clear.

After twisting the cap back on you immediately chuck it at his head, conveniently nailing him right in the temple causing him to yelp in surprise. “Jesus!” He shouts before falling off of the stool and onto the wooden floor below.

“Nope just me.” You deadpan with a satisfied smirk, walking over to Bucky while Sam gathers his bearings.

Bucky immediately throws an arm around you, making sure not to squeeze you too tight in the process. Leaning into his warm side, Sam throws you a half annoyed glare, showing how much he’d like to retaliate but also knowing he’s outnumbered in more ways then one.

“As much as I’d like to see you two beat each other’s ass right now.” Suddenly announces Steve, “We have a mission report in five.”

“What?” You sigh in annoyance, “Really? Right now? Can’t this shit wait?”

Steve sends you an apologetic smile, understanding you’re still in pain and thus very grouchy, “It’ll be quick. The team just needs to go over some credentials about the mission yesterday. Then you can go about your day off.”

Holding Bucky close, you pull him in a little closer, eyeing up Steve defensively, “Bucky too.”

Steve gives you an unsure look, “Well uh...”

“That wasn’t a question Rogers.” You growl, causing Steve to take a cautious step back as Sam lets out a chuckle.

“Yeah Cap I wouldn’t.”

“Right.” Nods Steve, “Yeah, you two are off the rest of the day after the meeting. Uh, see you guys then.” Waves the man with a plan himself, smartly deciding not to linger for much longer or face another steely glare from you.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” You mutter, parting from Bucky to lead the way down the hall to the usual meeting room.

——

After nudging Bucky to go on ahead to claim your unofficial official meeting chairs, you swung by your room to put on a sweatshirt and now are finally, though begrudgingly, making your merry way down the hall and into the expensive meeting room. 

Hood up, you trudge into the brightly lit area, practically squinting as the sunshine hits you like a blinding wall through the obnoxiously giant glass windows. “Nice of you to join us Y/N. Get lost on your way here?” Quips Clint as the whole entirety of the Avenger’s turn their heads to face you. 

“No, I just didn’t want to come.” You deadpan with a humored glare, earning a couple snickers from your friends. 

“Yeah that’s fair.” He shrugs.

Plopping yourself down in the facility’s decently comfortable swivel chair, you slouch tiredly, leaning your body against the arm rest to keep your bruised side from bothering you more then it already does.

Bucky is already in the seat to your left, Sam opting to snatch the one across from you two, while Vision and Wanda have claimed the seats to Sam’s right. Natasha and Steve sitting at the two chairs at the far end to your left, while Clint stands. 

“So...” Begins Clint, the apparent leader of todays meeting, “Yesterday’s mission in Quebec was a challenging one, I won’t lie to you. We took a hit, some more then others.” Nods Clint in your direction.

“You’re fucking hilarious.” You mutter, rolling your eyes in annoyance as Sam and Bucky hold in their laughter, while the others ignore the obvious implication, keeping it professional and in your good graces. 

“Thank you Y/N I know. Anyways, I think our team training days have improved our performance and been worthwhile. Now, as usual, Steve and Nat...great leadership skills. Vision, Wanda, the whatever the shit you guys are able to do, amazing...keep it up.” Clint glances back down at his notes while you yawn, “Sam and Bucky, nice recovery at the end, things where getting heated and you both really pulled through.”

“Hell yeah.” Smirks Sam as he leans over to fist bump Bucky from across the table.

Practically lowering yourself deeper into your seat, you mentally prepare yourself for whatever smartass comment you’re about to get from Clint. He looks down at his notes then moves to pick up a thin metal remote that connects to the blank screen behind him. 

“Uhh lets see here,” He mumbles while clicking some buttons that inevitably turn the screen on, “Okay good it works.” Swiveling around on his heal, Clint points the remote directly at you, “Y/N.” He says with a mischievous grin.

“Clint.” You point back in confusion, side eyeing Wanda nervously.

“Let’s talk...” Stretching out his arm, he clicks the remote to reveal a PowerPoint, “about safety awareness.”

Okay fuck you.

Chuckling tensely you shake your head, “I’d rather not.”

“Which is precisely why we...meaning you all,” Motions Clint to all of you with both his hands in two circles, “need to be educated on safety in the field.” A second later he flicks the lights off with a swift click of the remote, Okay great.....slide number one, do you have a buddy?”

As Clint keeps droning on and on for the next five minutes you suddenly decide to scoot over to rest your chin against Bucky’s right shoulder that's leaning against the table. He immediately smiles, turning his head away from an obliviously jabbering Clint, “Buck I’m going to commit a crime in the next two minutes if I don’t get the fuck out of here.” You whisper, squeezing his shoulder for emphasis.

Biting his lip to refrain from laughing, he reaches to take one of your hands with his, “And what crime will I have to admit in the police report?” He quietly muses.

“Murder.”

Kissing the pack of your hand to help you try and relax for the moment, he smirks, “Y/N it’s going to be difficult to break you out of jail.”

“Not if I don’t get caught.” You quip smartly while resting your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been contemplating taking out Clint since 2012 but then Natasha always stops me.”

“What’s stopping you now?” Challenges Bucky with the tiniest snort of amusement.

“Natasha.” You mutter, “Also I’m god-mother to one of his kids so I’m morally not allowed to kill him.....but I’ve never been more tempted then today.” 

“Shh.” Whispers Bucky with an amused smile as you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more then to leave this boring meeting. Fine, but if it was just me and Clint I would pummel his ass into the wall without a second thought, you think to yourself.

A moment later Wanda lets out a random snort of laughter that causes the team to look over at her in confusion while Clint is in the middle of explaining why it’s important to (make sure the enemy is knocked the fuck out before walking away). She quickly covers her mouth in embarrassment as Clint abruptly ends the PowerPoint, clicking back the lights on as he sighs in disappointment.

“Come on Wanda I was almost done.” He whines, setting a hand on his hip as she bites her lip to keep a straight face. Parting from Bucky, you move to lean yourself against the table top and listen to Clink complain. She looks down then glances over at you while Clint fumbles to turn the screen off. 

Oh, shit did she hear me say that?

“Sorry.” Mutters Wanda as you quickly realize you’re the reason she started to laugh, resulting in the abrupt ending of Clint’s 30 minute presentation. 

Giving her a quick wink, you quickly stand, causing your friends to look over at you, “Alright, good work team, we’re the best huh,” You add sarcastically before looking directly at Clint, “also Clint fantastic work at being the most interesting 87 year old, I’m thoroughly impressed you even know what a PowerPoint is. Kudos to you, I’m out.”

Before anyone can stop you, you’re already at the door, “Y/N you can’t just leave we’re only taking a break. And I already know how to use a PowerPoint.”

“Yeah and you also know how to put someone to sleep even without an arrow.” You sass while the others start to get up as well. 

“What? Guys, come on.” Complains Clint as Bucky almost trips shuffling quickly to the door.

“Babe I’m with you wait up.”

——

“So you really did get smacked by a truck. Who would’ve thought.” Mumbles Bucky humorously as the two of you lay sprawled out on your shared bed, a heating pad on your side as Bucky’s head lays on the corner of your right hip. His hands absentmindedly holding your right hand to his chest while your other one presses the heating pad to your ribs.

You lazily stare up at the ceiling while he studies your face, “I guess it makes sense since I can’t remember anything after that. I didn’t even see the damn hunk of moving metal coming either, so stupid.”

“No.” He assures softly, “We all fuck up and miss things sometimes. It happens to everyone.”

Smiling you simply roll your eyes, “Bucky you’re adorable but I, who was a hawk at the time....to be real here, got bitch slapped by a truck.”

“I’ve been thrown off a car a couple times actually.” He confirms with a shrug, “But yeah, you’re way tougher then me.” He finally chuckles.

“I’m tougher then everyone.”

Bucky smiles proudly, “Fuck yeah you are.”

[heliads]

Visits to Brooklyn

When Y/N’s older brother Jack Kelly makes her go to Brooklyn to ask Spot Conlon for a favor, she expects the worst. What she finds, however, is a secret she’ll happily keep.

masterlist

You collapse gratefully on top of a nearby chair, one that’s worn out and faded from years of wear. You managed to sell all of your papes early, so you have the rest of the day to relax and hang around with the rest of your friends.

A knock sounds at the door, distracting you from your tired reverie. Your brother, Jack Kelly, peeks his head around the open door. “Hey, Jack! How were the papes? Sell any today?” He grins. “As good as always. Say, Y/N, have you sold all your papes yet? I need you to do a favor for me.” You frown at him. “And here I thought you were just here to talk to me. No, you want me to do something for you.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s just a small favor, it won’t take that long. Will you do it?” You lean forward. “Are you going to tell me what it is before I say yes?” Jack mumbles something under his breath about how if you knew what it was, you probably wouldn’t say yes. You throw up your hands in mock exasperation. “Fine, I’ll do your little favor. What is it, you want me to sell some papes for someone else?”

Jack folds his fingers together conspiratorially. “Well, not exactly. I was kind of hoping you would run on down to Brooklyn and tell Spot to stop sending his boys over to ‘Hattan all the time.” You raise your eyebrows, incredulous. “You want me to go to Brooklyn and tell Spot Conlon what to do? I thought you said this was a little favor, not something that would get me killed!”

Jack shrugs his shoulders. “Well, it’s not that bad. Besides, the reason I’m sending you is because Spot can’t soak you for telling him because you’se a goil. Gotta think smart, you know?” You sigh, trying to hold back a laugh. “You are an awful brother, you know. Awful.” Jack looks at you hopefully. “Does that mean you’ll do it?” You glare at him, and he beams. “Yes, I’ll do it. But know that if I don’t come back my death is on your hands.”

You stretch with a sigh, and stand up. Jack grins wickedly at you. “I knew you’d do it! Remember, we’re counting on you.” As you head out of the room, you wave a hand at him without looking back. “Yes, you are. Never forget it.”

The bright sunshine of the Manhattan afternoon puts a smile on your face despite the tough task ahead of you. As you stroll casually down the city streets, weaving your way slowly towards Brooklyn, you can’t help but think about just what your brother has asked you to do. Complain to Spot Conlon that his boys are on your turf?

 You’ve never met the King of Brooklyn yourself, only seen him from across a crowded room at some newsie gathering or other. You have, however, had plenty of time to hear all about him, from his penchant for getting into a fistfight with someone who looks at him wrong or running Brooklyn with a famously iron fist. Yeah, this visit won’t exactly be a walk in the park.

A short while later, you’ve crossed over the Brooklyn Bridge and you are officially in Spot Conlon’s territory. You put on a cool, emotionless face and continue on your way. As you get closer to the Brooklyn lodging house, you notice that you’re no longer alone. A few newsboys have watched you arrive and started to follow you, and your shadows only grow in number the farther you head into Brooklyn territory.

You’re almost across the street from the lodging house when the Brooklyn newsboys finally make their move. One of the boys, who appears to be at least ten inches taller than you, stands in front of you, arms folded menacingly across his chest. “What’s a Manhattan newsie doing in Brooklyn?” You return his glare. “I’m here to speak to Spot Conlon. I was sent by Jack.”

The Brooklyn newsie doesn’t seem interested in this. “If Jack Kelly wants to talk to us, he should’ve come himself. Go back to ‘Hattan- we don’t want goils around here.” Ok, that’s going too far. Your fist moves faster than you can blink, and before you know it, the tall newsie is lying crumpled on the ground in front of you, clutching a nose that appears to be broken.

You lean over him, speaking loudly so you’re sure everyone in the proximity can hear you. “I don’t care what you think about goils. I’m here, I’m going to talk to Spot Conlon. Is that clear?” When the newsie doesn’t answer, you punch him again, harder. “Where is he?”

A voice from across the street makes you look up from the injured newsie. “He’s right here.” Your head flies up when you realize Spot’s been watching you from the door. Hurriedly, you step away from the newsie, who quickly gets up and away the second he knows you aren’t going to hit him anymore. You scratch the back of your head, nervous. “I’m Y/N, Jack sent me. Uh, sorry I punched your friend.”

Spot just grins, oddly nonchalant for the boy who’s supposed to soak every non-Brooklyn newsie he meets. “Well, it’s the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all day, so you’re good. Just don’t make it a habit.” You nod in acknowledgement. “Wasn’t planning on it.” Spot gestures for you to follow him into the lodging house, and you walk with him into a small room down the hall, feeling your nerve rise with every step.

Spot closes the door behind you, leaning against the wall and eyeing you with interest. “What’d Kelly want?” You fold your hands in front of you, not wanting to upset him. “He wants you to, uh, stop your newsies from going to Manhattan all the time. Find your own customers in Brooklyn.” You feel frozen, waiting for Spot to either hit you or kick you out of his turf. When he starts laughing, you’re taken aback. This was definitely not what you had expected to happen.

He walks over to you, standing just a few feet away and looking you dead in the eyes. “You know, I think I like you. Not many of the ‘Hattan newsies would have had the guts to tell me that. I think I know why Jack sent you.” You feel a grin spreading across your face. “Actually, he sent me because he thinks you won’t soak a girl, but that works too.” Spot shakes his head, amused. “I’m more worried that you’d beat up my boys than one of them would beat up you.”

You roll your eyes. “I won’t do it anymore. So, are you going to tell your boys to stop messing around on our turf?” Spot looks at you once more, gently brushing a piece of hair away from your face and making your heart feel like it’s going to beat out of your chest. “I suppose so. Only on one condition, though.” You look at him questioningly. “What’s that?” Spot smirks. 

“You have to come back and pay me a visit in Brooklyn. You’re the only Manhattan newsie who’s brave enough to say things how they is, and I want to get to know you better. What do you say?” You feel a light heat dusting your cheeks, but try to push it away. “I suppose I could.” Spot gives you a victoriously sly smile. “I look forward to seeing you again.” He presses a kiss to your knuckles, and opens to the door, helping you back out into the New York sunshine.

Your brother is waiting anxiously for you when you return home to Manhattan. When he sees you entering the lodging house, he hurries over to you. “Are you alright? What did he say? He didn’t soak you, did he?” You laugh at his worries. “Everything’s good. He agreed to tell his boys to back off, and I’m completely fine.” Jack sighs in mock relief. “Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure how to tell the rest of our boys that I got you killed because I was lazy and didn’t want to go over to Brooklyn.” You swat him indignantly, and the two of you break into laughter.

It’s not long after your first meeting with the King of Brooklyn that you find yourself slipping away from Manhattan and meeting up with Spot once more. Maybe you were just trying to fulfill the promise you made him when he agreed to get his boys out of Manhattan, or maybe you were intrigued by the dark-haired newsboy and wanted to see him once more. Regardless, you drift through the streets of Brooklyn until you see the now-familiar lodging house.

Spot is pleased to see you. You end up staying far longer than you had intended, talking late into the night. When you break from the trance of the conversation, you realize it’s growing dark and frantically hurry to head back to Manhattan. Spot wants to make sure you’re alright, and he walks you back over the bridge to ensure that no one gives you trouble on your way back. You part ways with him just before you reach Manhattan, and despite having spent all of the afternoon with him, you find you don’t want to say goodbye.

The meetings come more and more frequently. You find yourself falling for the King of Brooklyn, and he in turn with you. When you realized you were in love with him, you tried to stay away from Spot. There was no way he liked you back, and you knew you were just getting yourself into a mess of heartbreak if you kept visiting him. So, you kept to your side of the Brooklyn Bridge, making sure you stayed only in Manhattan and tried to forget you ever saw him.

This seems to be easier said than done, as a week into your self-induced isolation Spot visits you himself. When you hear a tap on your window late at night, you walk tiredly over to the window to see who was there. When you had pulled back the faded curtains to reveal Spot standing there on your balcony, you had hurriedly climbed out next to him before he could be seen by the other Manhattan newsies.

“What are you doing here?” You had whispered harshly. Spot had just grinned at you through the brisk night air. “You stopped coming to see me so I came to see you. Why haven’t you shown up in Brooklyn?” You shake your head, upset. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know what I’m doing anyway. Jack would kill me if he knew-” Spot takes your hand, holding it firmly despite your efforts to pull it away. “That never bothered you before. What’s changed, Y/N?”

In a rushed confession, you tell him. “I’m wasting my time. I fooled myself into thinking that you might- that I might mean something to you- but I was wrong. I’m sorry, Spot. I should go.” You try to turn and leave, but Spot gently places his hand on your cheek and kisses you. When you stare at him, confused, he just smiles. “You’re not wrong, Y/N. I do love you.” At his words, you beamed at him, and you let him kiss you once more.

Now that your fears have been assuaged, you visit Brooklyn with more regularity. You find comfort in him, and he with you. It’s a good thing you have him, because things are not going well in Manhattan. With the newly raised price of papes, you and Jack know there’s no way the newsies will be able to sell enough papes to survive. Before you know it, Jack and Davey are organizing a strike, and you and your friends are finally making a stand.

When it comes time to ask the other territories for help in the strike, Jack sends you to the Bronx before you can volunteer to go ask Brooklyn for help. You don’t think much about it, assuming that Spot will do the right thing and stand by Manhattan in their time of need. When Jack comes back, though, he’s wearing a grim face that tells you one thing: Spot turned them down.

You feel hurt by your boyfriend’s denial of aid, but you understand why: he has to protect his boys, just like you have to protect yours. So, you put on a brave face, and you and the Manhattan newsies take a stand in the first strike against the World.

It does not go well.

When the goons attack, you’re expecting it. When the cops show up and beat you and your friends, it’s more than the newsies of Manhattan can take. After the bloodbath has ended, you and the newsies have staggered away to regroup in some hidden part of town where no one else can find them. Your brother, Jack, has vanished, and Crutchie has been dragged away to the Refuge. As you look around, seeing the broken, battered faces of your friends, you realize what you have to do and slip away.

Your feet lead you to Brooklyn before you can even think about it. Before you know it, you’re opening the door to the lodging house and knocking quietly on Spot’s door. He opens the door, surprised to see you so early in the morning, but the confusion turns to horror when he sees the blood and bruises littering your face. He quickly pulls you into the room, cupping your face in his hands.

“Y/N! What happened to you?” You look him in the eyes, letting him see your dissatisfaction. “The bulls and goons happened. Tell me, Spot, what did you think was going to happen when you said you wouldn’t stand by us in the strike?” The tortured look in your boyfriend’s eyes is almost too much to bear. “I never thought that this- didn’t the newsies from other parts of New York show up?”

You laugh bitterly. “None of the other turfs want to be involved in something when Spot Conlon says no. You knew that.” Spot examines the cuts on your face, hurt flickering across his face when you wince at even his light touch. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I never wanted any of this to happen. Not to you. Not to any of the other newsies.”

You watch as the pain on his face changes into a hardened anger. “We’re back in the strike. Tell Jack the next time you see him. I’m not letting Pulitzer or any of those goons get away with this. They can’t touch my girl without getting pounded.” You laugh lightly at his words, and let Spot pull you close to him. “Thank you, Spot.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything to protect you.”

[cake-writes]

making the beast beautiful (one)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (cheating); Steve x Reader (married)

Story Warnings: Mental Illness, Borderline Personality Disorder, Splitting, Clinical Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Anxiety, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Low Self-Esteem, Cheating, Angst, Drug Addiction / Abuse (Cigarettes, later Alcohol & Pills), Recovery, idk it’s gonna get depressing but we’ll have a happy ending!!!, Eventual Smut, 18+

Summary: Bucky knows the struggle, the pain, the emptiness. He understands. He can relate, because he knows. And some days, he still struggles – even told you once how low he’s been. But Steve? Your sweet, loving husband of a year and a half? No, Steve doesn’t understand. He can’t, no matter how hard he tries. So one day, you finally give up and give in to your most self-destructive temptation of all: your preoccupation with his best friend.

A/N: i know this is another wip SORRY but it’s literal word vomit because ya girl just really needed to yeet these sad bitch feels into outer space lmao 🤷 

Your addiction to him starts slow, like the creep of nicotine through your veins from the cigarettes that he offers you on the rooftop.

Not often enough to do any damage, you try to tell yourself about your smoking habit – or maybe what you actually mean is the amount of time you spend with him. Bucky Barnes. Your husband’s best friend. Your former teammate. Not that it matters, because from one night to the next it’s all you can do to cling to the one good thing you have left, the one ray of light– or maybe he’s the one last shred of hope you’re willing to bind yourself to like a lifeline.

And if it snaps, you’ll fall. 

Too bad the threads are already starting to fray.

And lucky, lucky you that you fall even sooner, because your reality has shifted to one shade off from normal, and you can hardly tell what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. You want to prioritize yourself because you know you should – maybe be a little selfish for once, to combat the awful feelings of self-hate that plague your mind, but you don’t know if that particular affirmation is driven by self-esteem or self-destruction.

You can’t tell anymore. You don’t know who you are.

You’re a mystery, a chameleon, borderline, and the only thing you do know is that Bucky makes you feel again – too much. He makes you feel things you shouldn’t, makes you obsess and overthink and daydream and wonder about what life could be like with him instead of Steve.

Because that’s what you do when you fall in love. You turn into that. A monster. A beast. A siren hell-bent on the destruction of yourself.

So, you fall. You fall deep. You fall hard. You fall fast, but it’s the savouring of the moment that always brings out the worst in you. It brings back the worst part of you that you’ve buried under layers and layers of trauma and depression – the clinginess and neediness and desperation at the center of it all, and every layer covering up the euphoria makes you cry because you have to hide it for fear of losing yourself all over again. Losing that feeling. Losing what makes you you.

You’re happy, now. Right? So why do things you shouldn’t do?

But you just can’t help yourself.

You shouldn’t have accepted that first cigarette.

You shouldn’t have texted him asking for another.

You shouldn’t have talked to him about personal things meant for your husband.

You shouldn’t have talked to him about the most personal of things: your husband. Your relationship. Your insecurities because of your illness.

You shouldn’t have – because Bucky knows. He understands. He’s been there.

He knows the struggle, the pain, the emptiness. He understands. He can relate, because he knows. He’s been there. He’s done that. And some days, he still struggles – even told you, once, how low he’s been. 

He might have a different slew of acronyms to define his own mental state, but they all spell out the same thing: FUBAR. And so do yours.

But Steve? Your sweet, loving husband of a year and a half? The man of your dreams, the one you’d married in the gown of your dreams, in the venue of your dreams? He’s resilient. And let’s not forget your wedding, with Bucky standing right there as his best man – the same Bucky who accidentally caught the bouquet you threw in his direction, because your aim was purposefully off to make him feel like he belonged for once.

Even before you got to know him, you always had a soft spot for him. 

And now? You’re fucked. Completely and utterly smitten.

No, Steve doesn’t understand. He absolutely, fundamentally cannot, through and through. Not for a lack of trying, though, or that’s what you keep trying to convince yourself. He supports you physically: makes dinner when you’re ‘tired’, runs errands when you’re ‘busy’, gives you love and affection just like he always has. You’re his wife; it’s his obligation. He has to.

That’s how you feel, anyway.

He treats you that way out of duty, not love, because Steve always has to put the greater good before himself. He puts your happiness before his own, you think. And he tries so hard – he does. And whenever he tells you he’s happy, you just can’t believe him because you think so poorly of yourself.

Why would anyone willingly want to be around you?

And emotionally? He tries so hard with that, too, but he just doesn’t know. He doesn’t get it. He never says the right things, only well-meaning insensitive ones because he hasn’t been there, he hasn’t done that, and he thinks it’s all in your head – that you’re just not trying hard enough, that you just don’t want to get better badly enough, because if you did then you’d be up and at ‘em already. Then you’d be healed. Then you’d be out of this funk and back in the field with him.

You’re not.

You won’t be for a long time.

You’re not the same girl he fell in love with. Not that he’s ever said that directly to you, but sometimes you think it’s how he feels. He signed up for a wife, not a child. He signed up for the you from a few years ago, now, not the shell of a person you’ve become because of your illness.

Ironic, considering what he was like as a kid, Bucky likes to remind you when you start to hate on yourself because of how you’ve changed – because you’re not normal anymore. He used to be so sick all the time. Then the serum made him right as rain. Don’t take it to heart.

Steve got better because of a miracle. Hard work and determination can only get a person so far, but it was pure luck that got him to the serum. You know that. Bucky knows that. Steve probably knows that deep down, too, but he doesn’t see it that way. All he sees is his hard work.

He lies to himself. He always has.

He probably lies to himself about his love for you, too.

So it’s hard to believe he’s happy. How can he be? You don’t bring anything to your relationship but self-pity and unhappiness. And how can you not take it to heart that Steve doesn’t understand? Your husband, the one who should be supporting you and validating you and making you feel like you’re seen, thinks you’re always throwing a pity party for yourself, thinks you’re just too lazy to get up and actually do the things you want to do, thinks you’re just not trying hard enough.

Come on, doll, he says. Let’s go for a walk.

To you it just sounds like, Walk it off.

Because he’s said that before, too. A hundred times. In the field, and out.

You’re not an agent anymore. You can’t handle it anymore. You can’t handle anything anymore.

Deep down, you’re convinced that Steve thinks because it’s not physical – that because there are no scrapes or bruises or broken bones to prove that you’re in pain – that your depression isn’t real. Not really. It’s an illness, same as any other, and he just doesn’t understand it because he can’t see any physical evidence of it.

Never mind the weight you’ve lost.

Never mind the bags under your eyes.

Never mind the crying spells, the dissociation – but then, you hide those from him the best you can these days. You don’t want him to see how bad you are anymore, because he just doesn’t get it. Because it hurts so much every time for him to look at you with those soft, confused baby blues and act like it’s not a big deal, like a little bit of sunshine’s a cure-all for your woes.

Ironic is right. The boy’s been to war and he hasn’t even processed his own trauma. Hasn’t even been to a shrink despite having two best friends poking and prodding for him to go. He’s in denial.

He refuses to believe that you just couldn’t get to the laundry today because you’re too exhausted from lying in bed all day. He refuses to believe that you couldn’t eat a bite because you didn’t even think to, too busy caught up in your own pain to remember, let alone care. He refuses to believe that you don’t even feel like you deserve to do anything good for yourself, so why even get up? Why bother? Why try to do anything anymore?

Just let the darkness take you away. Bit by bit. Piece by piece. And then, maybe one day you won’t have to feel anything anymore. Maybe you’ll just disappear.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

He refuses to get it, and some part of you feels like it’s because he doesn’t want to. Because he’s afraid to acknowledge that it’s true. That if he starts therapy like you did, then this could just as easily happen to him, too.

But hey, that’s his problem, not yours. You’re still learning to prioritize yourself – to break away from co-dependency and focus on your own needs for once. You’re barely keeping your head above water; why should you have to work on him, too, when he doesn’t offer you the same consideration? You’ve done what you can, and he just turns a blind eye because he doesn’t want to understand your issues. Or his.

So, you’ve given up.

You plaster on a happy face when he’s home – a painful, never-ending reminder that you’re not okay, and you keep your troubles to yourself. You’ve stopped sharing your struggles with the man you married because he doesn’t understand, and it hurts. You try so hard to act like nothing’s wrong that sometimes you dissociate, and you don’t come back to yourself until you have a cigarette hanging between your lips, lit by a Zippo engraved with a clever, If you want to make love, smile when you hand this lighter back.

Seeing the joke on Bucky’s lighter always brings you back, because it’s ridiculous. It’s a throwback to his army days; Steve found it awhile back with Bucky’s old personal effects. Makes you wonder what he must have been like back then.

Cigarette smoke and leather and sandalwood in the dead of night – and you always make a point to smile when you hand it back to him.

Temptation incarnate, now. What a dream he would have been back then.

Sometimes you text him when you and Steve have had another fight.

Sometimes he texts you when he needs you to ground him.

Sometimes the two of you just text each other for the hell of it. It’s usually related to someone’s mental health, usually yours, but occasionally not; after all, over the last few months he’s become your partner in misery and crime. The two of you have shared things to each other that you’ve never told another person, not even Steve; and in some ways, you feel like you’ve bared your soul to him.

It’s intimate.

In other ways, you’ve kept your guard up because you know you’re playing with fire.

It’s wrong.

You know you should really tell Steve about your midnight conversations – that you probably know his best friend almost as well as he does, now, but Bucky’s become a guilty sort of pleasure that you keep near and dear to your heart. He makes you feel things that you haven’t felt in a long time, but you’re not ready to acknowledge what that means. Not yet.

And neither is Bucky, evidently, because Steve’s still none the wiser.

Eight months of this and you still want more.

Your husband trusts you. He never asks who you’re texting or what you’re up to. You’ve given him no reason to believe otherwise. He feels safe and secure in your relationship, but maybe he’s turning a blind eye to that, too.

He shouldn’t. 

You wish he didn’t.

Some small part of you wants him to catch you, and that’s what you resent the most. You’re self-destructive – ready to destroy the one good, stable thing in your life in favour of an impossibility, but you can’t deny that Bucky gives your brain the dopamine it needs, it craves, it lacks.

He’s been gone on a mission the last week and a half, but you saw the Quinjet fly in the hangar earlier in the evening, around six, and you’ve been keen to text him since. You’ve held back for a little while, not wanting to appear to eager to message him – so you’re certainly not too proud of how quickly your resolve cracks.

You, 10:33pm Please don’t tell me you came home with Lucky Strikes again.

Bucky, 10:41pm Sorry, princess. Didn’t realize I was seeing royalty tonight.

And then he sends through a photo of a slightly crumpled pack of Lucky Strikes in his hand – an invitation to come to the rooftop. Judging by the setting, he’s already there.

Despite his choice in a particularly harsh smoke, you’re more focused on the pet name that has your face burning hot. It’s something he’s started to tack on recently – ‘princess’ being most common, particularly when he’s teasing you about being spoiled in some way, but when he slips it in during a real conversation is what really makes your heart pound.

You know you should tell him to stop. You know you should, but, you don’t.

You like how it feels to feel for once.

You’re married. It’s wrong. You need to stop, but you just can’t help yourself. You’re lonely.

Steve’s still away on a mission, which doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it used to – you hope he returns safely, of course you do, but you don’t really miss him. Not like you should. That’s happened more often than not as of late, and you can feel your attention shifting the longer you keep up this dangerous game with his best friend.

If it even is a game, that is. It’s probably not. How could he possibly be attracted to you? You’re depressed. You’re boring. And, to top it all off, you’re his best friend’s wife.

Of course you’re the only participant. Bucky’s just humouring you. That’s all.

And now, as you swipe on some deodorant and attempt to make something out of the rat’s nest that is your hair, you feel a particularly awful level of disdain for yourself. The self-loathing pairs nicely with your poor appearance; you haven’t slept well in days, and you’ve barely eaten in just as long.

It’s only when Steve is here keeping you on a regular schedule that you do. Otherwise it’s a free for all anymore.

Bucky never seems to mind – just encourages you to go do what needs to be done when the conversation’s over. And somehow, you listen. 

Sometimes he texts to ask if you’re doing okay while he’s away on a mission, too – and you always lie, because he can’t prove otherwise. He sends you a couple reminders anyway, because he just knows. He understands that you’d rather not burden him with the truth.

And then, when he comes back, he calls you out on your lie. He calls you out and reminds you how valuable you are – to Steve, mostly, and to the team. You’re irreplaceable. You’re needed.

He never says how important you are to him, but you always wish he would.

It’s stupid. It’s wrong.

You’re married.

Tonight will be no different. Despite your negative beliefs about yourself, he’ll tell you otherwise, but you won’t believe him. You never do, even though you desperately want to.

You’re a mess, so a beanie it is. You pull it over your tangled hair and somehow get your bangs looking presentable, at least; then you give your clothes the sniff test, spritz a little body spray just in case, and head out the door. You had a shower yesterday because even you couldn’t stand it anymore. 

That’ll do.

Fingers tap anxiously at your feed in the quiet elevator. There’s some mild jazz playing, just like usual, but your heart pounds inside your chest – only brings more attention to your nerves.

Bucky hasn’t been gone long, but you’ve missed him.

It’s stupid. It’s wrong.

You’re married.

After exiting the elevator, a short flight of stairs takes you to the roof. Once you start to push, the fire exit door blows open of its own accord; it’s windy up here due to the change of seasons, not that you’ve even noticed it considering you haven’t been outside in over a week. The fresh air shoots straight through your hoodie and sweatpants, and you briskly rub your arms to warm up, immediately wishing you’d checked the temperature before you came outside, maybe grabbed a jacket. You hadn’t even thought of it. Your mind’s a mess.

Hadn’t thought of dinner, either. Or lunch.

That’s when a heavy leather jacket is deposited ungracefully on your shoulders, and you glance up behind you to find Bucky standing there, giving you the look. It’s the one that pre-empts the lecture. “That help?”

You nod, basking in the smell of him – sandalwood and spice. Ah. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He knows.

He can tell with just one look that you’ve been lying to him – that you haven’t been taking care of yourself like you said you were. But he doesn’t reprimand you this time, or offer you platitudes; the disapproving look is enough.

Slippers on your feet, you pad over to the two lawn chairs he set up awhile back near the edge of the eastern wing; it’s got a nice view of the landing pad, but beyond that is the lake, and the two of you have come up here long enough to catch the sunrise once or twice. It’s nice.

“Good mission?” you ask, shoving your hands into your pockets as you collapse into your chair. It’s made of a terrible green fabric, seated low enough to the ground to let you curl your knees to your chest and cry when you want to. And you do. A lot.

This time, however, you’ve got your legs extended far ahead of you. You don’t want to talk about yourself tonight. You want to focus on him.

A distraction. That’s all. That’s what you try to tell yourself.

The other chair, woven blue and white, is where Bucky comes to rest just like always. You suspect that it was the cheapest one in the store, because it creaks and groans and you always think it’s going to break when he sits in it, but it never does. It’s also taller than yours, so you call him old man every now and then for it because that’s just hilarious.

It’s not flirting. It’s not.

Not even when you’ve nearly fallen into his lap on more than one occasion thanks to drinking beforehand.

“Well,” he starts hesitantly, pausing to consider his answer, “I made it back.”

His tone is soft – distant. Not a good mission, then.

“I’m glad you made it back,” you offer, giving him what you hope is a hopeful smile. It feels fake, but the intention behind it is real.

He studies your face for a moment or two, before he averts his eyes. “You’re probably the only one. I had to do some things on the mission that I—” He cuts himself off, then, and pulls the pack of Lucky Strikes out of his pocket to fiddle with. A crutch. “I don’t like to use my strength when I don’t have to. Makes people nervous.”

He’s told you about it before. By ‘people’ he means ‘agents’. Other agents. The ones he was working with, no doubt. As if his arm isn’t reminder enough, sometimes if he doesn’t hold back – well, they start to treat him a little differently after that. It’s a reminder that he’s not fully human.

You can empathize. “It’s a little shocking at first,” you remind him gently, “but you do get used to it. I did. It just takes some time.”

Of course, you also married a super soldier, so there’s that. You can’t really gauge what’s ‘normal’ anymore.

That’s when he cracks open the pack  of cigarettes – half full, which means he must have been smoking on the mission, too, something he doesn’t usually do – and when he meets your eyes, the dark, anxious look there turns your stomach to knots.

“Are you?” he asks, voice low and laced with an emotion you just can’t place – or maybe you’re too afraid to acknowledge that you can, and very easily feel the same way. “I could break you in thirty ways before you could even tell me to stop.”

Your brain halts like a record scratch when the clear implication of his words sends a jolt straight to your core. Not just because it’s true, the threat, but because of the dangerous way he’s staring at you, coupled with the casual authority in his voice.

He could hurt you so easily, but you know he wouldn’t. Not you.

He could do other things, too – something a lot less violent and a lot more pleasurable – but you don’t let yourself consider that. You can’t. Even if it’s what he’s implying.

Is it what he’s implying?

You’re married. He knows that.

There’s a long pause while you try to gather your thoughts, until you finally manage as evenly as you can, “Are you trying to scare me?”

Your voice is still a little hoarse despite how much you willed it not to be. He did scare you a little – not that you’d ever admit it, because he excited you a hell of a lot more, and you hate that, too. But you love it even more.

Your question makes his shoulders slump, just slightly, just enough to let you know that that’s exactly what it was – that Bucky was lashing out, in his own way. That he’s the one who’s scared. That he’s trying to push you away.

Why?

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you reassure him, because you aren’t. You could never be. Not like that. What you’re afraid of is so much worse than that – because it involves him and you, and you can’t make yourself stop wanting more of this. More of him. More of what he threatened to do to you – the underlying meaning you hope to god you’re not imagining, but you should never, ever want.

It’s wrong.

“You should be,” he responds, quiet, rolling the cigarette he’s half pulled out of the pack in between his fingers like he’s debating whether to light it, but he’s trying his hardest not to this time. “You shouldn’t be up here with me.”

The ball drops.

The truth that the two of you have been dancing around for months finally comes out, and you laugh – you laugh, because otherwise you’ll cry. “What are you talking about?”

“Darlin’, you’re—” he starts, and then lets out a frustrated sigh and shoves the cigarette right back in, shoves the pack shut too for good measure. Blue eyes burn into yours. “You know why.”

“We’re friends, Bucky,” you emphasize, lightly, but deep within your chest you can feel the anger, the anxiety start to burn and meld together into something entirely unrecognizable. It’s the tiniest ember now, but it won’t be if this keeps up. You know you’re married. You know that. You don’t need the reminder. “We’re just talking. What’s the problem?”

“Come on, sweetheart.” He’s calm, too calm, and it bothers you. “Don’t play dumb. You’re too smart for that.”

It’s just pretend. It’s not real. You’re happily married with Steve. You’re happy.

Right?

“That’s all it is,” you argue. “I’m married. You said so yourself. Steve and I are happily married.”

Saying it out loud is just another cold, brutal reminder that you aren’t. Just like the façade you’re forced to wear. 

“Yeah? You’re happy?” Bucky asks, pulling himself to his feet – and you suddenly realize how tall he is when he’s towering over you like this. You’re not scared, no, you love it. And that makes it worse, the way he makes your heart race like this. “Then there’s gotta be a reason why you haven’t told him about our little talks.”

Because they’re more than that. That’s the reason.

“Well, why haven’t you?” you shoot back, finally getting to your feet, too, feeling your face flush with anger. “You haven’t told him either. Why’s that, huh?”

Tense silence falls over the two of you as you glare at each other, the only light illuminating your features coming from the full moon. It’s a beautiful night, clear and chilly and bright, and you originally had hopes of maybe stargazing with him like you’ve done so many times before.

Not tonight.

He’s pushing you away. He wants to push you away. You know he is, it’s obvious – he tried one approach, and when that didn’t work, he went for the thing he knew would invoke a reaction. The thing that would hurt the most.

Steve. Your marriage. Your happiness, or lack thereof.

No matter how many times you try to tell that to the rational side of your brain, you just can’t handle it. It’s another rejection from someone you cared about – someone you felt yourself growing a potentially unhealthy attachment to – and he just had to hurt you like all the rest. He wanted to hurt you. He wanted to see you suffer.

You can’t stand him.

So you shrug off his jacket and shove it at him. “Take your fucking jacket,” you bite out. “You want me gone? Well, I’m going. Hope you’re happy.”

The way he takes it from you catches you off guard, blue eyes wide with hurt and surprise – but you don’t give him another second of your time. Instead you spin around on your heel and stomp your way back to the access door.

You’re not well enough for this. You’re depressed. You’re broken. You’re lonely.

And now, the only person who understands has thrown you away – discarded you like you’re nothing. Maybe because you are. You’re worthless.

Your fingertips just brush against the handle when you’re tugged back by the wrist, and then his arms are around you, his chest pressing into your back.

He’s warm.

It’s wrong.

But it feels right, and you hate how easily you melt into his touch, into the feeling of his lips at your ear.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispers, and you’re done for.

The heat from your anger warps into something else – something that burns you up in a different way, and you swallow thickly at the feeling of his arms so snug around your waist. “What do you want, then?”

It’s barely audible, your question -- but he hears it just fine. Soft lips drag from your ear to your pulse, and you shiver, lulling your head back onto his shoulder.

“You tell me,” Bucky breathes against your skin. “I need to know what you want.”

The two of you are playing a dangerous game, and the stakes are only getting higher. You both have a lot to lose, but you’re the one taking the higher risk. Not him.

“I want—” His teeth gently nip at your neck and you can’t help yourself. “I want you—”

And then your back is pressed into the closed door, cold metal biting through your sweats but you don’t even notice, too focused on the feeling of his lips on yours. They’re soft and ever-so-slightly chapped, and his stubble scratches just a little, pleasantly, just enough to hurt in the best way.

It’s hot, too hot, god, you can’t handle the heat of his body against yours—

“Bucky,” you gasp against his lips, sliding your arms around his neck, fingers carding through his hair to pull him closer. You can taste with the barest bite of mint from his gum, along with the slightest hint of cigarette smoke, and you realize—

He must have been up here for awhile.

Overthinking. Wondering what to do. Lost in thoughts of you, perhaps.

The idea of it sends a rush of delirium through you, and you open your mouth just enough to let his tongue explore – or dominate, which you soon find you like very much when Bucky does it to you. His flesh hand cups the side of your face as he kisses the breath out of you, and his vibranium one snugly presses into your lower back – purposely, you soon find, because suddenly your knees go weak and your arms tighten around his neck to catch yourself from falling.

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Oh, wow. That’s never happened before.”

“First time for everything,” he teases, kissing your forehead as he steadies you back on both feet – and it’s then that the realness of the situation seems to sink in.

You’ve just cheated on your husband.

He’s just kissed his best friend’s wife.

There’s a prolonged silence as the two of you look at each other, watching, wondering, waiting, and then—

“We have to tell him,” you say, a little uneasily. “Just… not yet. Figure this out first.”

You can feel the desperation to see where this leads, no matter what a bad idea it is.

Bucky swallows. It’s clear that the prospect of lying to Steve bothers Bucky just as much as it bothers you, but you know he feels that same desperation when he suggests, “And if it turns out to be nothing, then…”

“Yeah. No harm, no foul.”

You won’t tell him. Because if it’s nothing, then it’s not worth worrying about. 

Even if it’s wrong.

Right?

two

and a moodboard I made because why not

[murder-raven13]

My Haikyuu Ships pt. 3

A/N: Part 3 because I am a hoe that procrastinates

Warning(s): cursing, not proofread, this has again become kind of relationship hcs, loooooooooooooooooooog, I added another ship because my memory sucks

Word Count: 3,401

Part 1 Part 2

Tanaka x Ennoshita

So, Ennoshita is calm and collected but also very insecure. Doesn’t trust in his own skill or ability to lead nor the relationships he’s built with the team. Tanaka, on the other hand, is loud and confident and dedicated. He also refuses to let people talk bad about themselves or let other people talk bad about the people he cares about. This really helps with Ennoshita’s insecurity because Tanaka is brutally honest and Ennoshita knows that, so he believes Tanaka. And Ennoshita can keep Tanaka in line and on track. Tanaka is the type that’s only truly dedicated to the things he cares about, so other things tend to fall behind. School is one of the things that gets left behind. But Ennoshita is there to keep Tanaka on track, making sure that he’s doing what he has to to ensure that he can continue participating in his passions. They’re both really good together, covering the other’s weaknesses with ease and letting themselves lean on the other when they need it. Very sweet boys with a very soft, fun relationship. 

Yachi x Kiyoko

Okay, Kiyoko is a bit of an outsider and she’s not good at expressing herself. But she is sure of herself. She knows her capabilities and has confidence in her looks and, after a while, in her relationships with those close to her. But she’s never had a relationship with a female that she’s been sure of. Then Yachi comes along, basically worshipping the ground Kiyoko walks on, and completely anxious about literally everything. Yachi is a big ball of stress and love, and she turns to Kiyoko first, for everything. She believes in Kiyoko, knows that Kiyoko will always fit with her, doesn’t mind that Kiyoko has flaws because Kiyoko is perfect to Yachi. And Kiyoko helps Yachi build her confidence. They’re a very domestic couple, I feel. The kind that would be able to just sit in silence while they did their homework or just watch TV together every night. Kiyoko makes sure that Yachi doesn’t overwork or overstress herself by giving her massages and calming baths. Yachi makes sure that Kiyoko is happy and sure of their relationship, completely free with her emotions and her words whenever they’re together, by ensuring that Kiyoko knows Yachi is there, always, the peaceful shadow in Kiyoko’s life. They’re just neat together. 

Yachi x Ushijima

Ushijima is a very simple man and very devoted man. His partner’s needs and feelings are a priority to him, even though he may struggle to pick up on body language. He’s big and strong, but very gentle, astoundingly so for someone so brutal on the court. Yachi is pretty much the opposite. She’s tiny and unsure and anxious. And Ushijima terrifies her at first. He’s giant and strong and stoic. This boy does not look welcoming, especially to someone as tiny and panicky as Yachi. So, it takes a while. Ushijima doesn’t think much of her at first because she doesn’t seem like much but he sees her struggling with a near panic attack after she gets separated from the team one day and he just really can’t stop himself from wanting to protect this tiny human. He becomes a kind of balm, a protector that makes Yachi feel safe because, no matter how scary the world it, Ushijima is there to keep the brunt of it away. And Yachi serves as a constant reminder of Ushijima’s strength, a reminder that he’s needed, loved, for all the qualities about himself that he’s spent his entire life strengthening. 

Atsumu x Hinata

Can I just say disaster? [that’s gonna describe quite of few of the remaining ships tbh] They’re a disaster but, like, a good disaster. Atsumu and Hinata have the same zeal for volleyball and Atsumu fell in the love the first time they played a game against each other. Hinata took a little longer to fall. Together, though, they’re good. They have a place to channel all their chaotic energy. They mess with each other a lot, perpetual state of war via prank. Sometimes, much to the chagrin of those that know them, they keep score of who can prank the most other people. But most of the times it’s kept between themselves. This is a very fun couple. The kind that goes on spontaneous beach trips at 2 in the morning and plays until they can’t physically move. So in love with each other they sometimes forget other people exist. They’re both absolutely blinding, all radiance and sunshine, burning with so much passion that other’s have struggled all their lives to deal with them. They get lost in each other, reverent and worshipping and all to pleasantly blinded by the other.

Atsumu x Sakusa

Sakusa is mean, a meanie. He’s so mean to Atsumu. Most of Atsumu’s time is spent just pouting at Sakusa until Sakusa has to desperately try and hide the blush on his face. That pout is his favorite of Atsumu’s expressions and Atsumu has a lot of them. Sakusa hates being the in public eye but that’s unavoidable with his career. But Atsumu, glorious, blinding Atsumu is there to keep the crowds and the germs and all of it focused on him. He keeps the world away from Sakusa when Sakusa can’t deal with it. He’s always, always making sure Sakusa is comfortable and clean and happy. And Sakusa is the motivation Atsumu needs to truly take care of himself. Atsumu gets so focused on volleyball and being the best that he forgets some things, like resting and self-care and showering, all things that Sakusa is religious about. They make such a good couple because Sakusa needs Atsumu to be the light and Atsumu needs Sakusa to be his guiding hand. 

Osamu x Suna

Chill babies. Osamu and Suna are both so chill, or at least they both seem that way. Osamu’s chill is kind of fake. It’s not that he’s not chill, it’s just that he’s surrounded by things that push his chill into a little corner and beat it up. And by “things” I mean Atsumu. Osamu loves his twin, no doubt, but his twin is also the most exhausting person alive a majority of the time. They’re constantly in competition. They have the same face and yet Osamu is constantly preferred less by fans besides the fact that he swore he would be more likable than Atsumu because he didn’t want to be alone like Atsumu. So, the team and those that know Atsumu all prefer Osamu, but everyone else doesn’t. In comes Suna, who captures everything on his phone, and I mean everything. Every fight, every argument, every moment, everything. This lets Osamu look back at how he and Atsumu interact and realize how tired he is of it all. And Suna is more than willing to just lay there, doing nothing, when Osamu needs somewhere quiet to be. Suna is Osamu’s refuge from Atsumu, whose passion and attitude make him too much sometimes. And Osamu lets Suna chill. He doesn’t expect emotion or passion or anything chaotic from Suna, he just wants Suna to be Suna, a lazy little shit that likes to cause trouble whenever it’s easy to do so. Osamu, to Suna, is a partner, someone that knows him and accepts his limits, respects how he is a person. 

Osamu x Hinata

Okay, Hinata is really just like a nicer, more likable version of Atsumu’s energy. Osamu would be one of very few able to keep up with Hinata’s energy in a relationship without getting swallowed up in it. Osamu would be so supportive of Hinata’s volleyball career, would undoubtedly practice when Hinata begged him. He doesn’t mind, he misses the game. But Hinata never tries to pull him back into volleyball, he understands what Osamu is passionate about and supports the fuck out of it. Loves Osamu’s food, constantly bragging about it. Osamu can go nowhere with Hinata without turning bright red at some point. Also constantly bringing people to Osamu’s restaurant. The team won a game? Onigiri Miya. Someone got engaged? Onigiri Miya. Man has no shame. And Hinata’s so cute and famous that this really does bring a bunch of people to the restaurant [Osamu is salty about it and so is Atsumu]. 

Ushijima x Hinata

So, I’m a whore to enemies to lovers and I’m a whore for height differences; what you gonna do about it? Nothing because nothing can be done. Hinata has similar energy to Tendou, except Hinata is much nicer than Tendou and a different kind of chaotic. Hinata is unfiltered passion and confidence. Ushijima is concentrated passion and confidence. The two of them together are constantly challenging each other because Hinata never stops striving to be the best, a trait Ushijima greatly admires. And Hinata is always so impressed with Ushijima’s skill and power and size, loves that he’s found another volleyball idiot to be with. Hinata drags Ushijima into life experiences and Ushijima brings Hinata home whenever he’s drifting too far. They’re a very strange couple to others because their energy is so different. Definitely the couple whose house is more plant and volleyball stuff than anything else. Hinata will definitely tuck himself into Ushijima’s side until he’s almost completely hidden, may have once gotten into Ushijima’s hoodie with him, because he’s a little shit and Ushijima cannot say no to him [and he doesn’t really mind have Hinata so close].

Yachi x Oikawa

Oikawa is used to girls fawning over him. But Yachi is too shy to do so. Literally will not admit she finds him pretty. She just kind of ignores him, which pisses Oikawa off because this small, adorable girl won’t even spare him a glance and that’s never fucking happened before. Honestly starts pursuing Yachi because she didn’t seem interested at first. The first time she calls him pretty, he blushes, which was not a reaction he was expecting from himself. Realized he liked this cute ball of nerves more than he was originally supposed to. Yachi helps Oikawa realize he doesn’t need to be fake all the time, that not everyone has to life him, because he has the people who matter. And Oikawa helps Yachi become more confident, more sure of herself, more comfortable with defending her ground [she has to in order to deal with his damn fangirls]. Oikawa is a clingy ass person, but he understands that that makes Yachi a little uncomfortable in public, so he cuts back on the PDA, until there is a guy talking to Yachi, then he’s all hands on deck. Will definitely save Yachi from stressful situations. Loves that Yachi brings him lunch every day. 

Suga x Ushijima

Suga hates him at first. It’s so funny. Because Ushijima is just captivated because Suga is pretty and kind and caring and so observant, if not the greatest setter. He’s got a bond of trust with his teammates that Ushijima admires a lot. And Suga is willing to do whatever it takes to win, even if that means he has to step into the background. But Suga hates him because he thinks Ushijima is perfect. It’s not true hate, just irritation. But it’s enough to keep Suga away. And then Suga starts realizing all the ways Ushijima is far from perfect. He’s stoic and bad at talking and communicating and all together a disaster at social interaction because he’s so brutally honest without thought. And Suga starts to like him, how could he not. This man is a mess and handsome and Suga’s a little whipped. It’s Tendou that gets them together because Tendou notices that Suga’s feelings have changed and knows that Ushijima’s crush has not. So, he sticks them together and, true to character, Ushijima confesses without much thought [despite the fact that he blushes]. Together, they’re a very mature couple and I do not mean that Suga gets any less meddlesome. I just mean that they’re relationship is very domestic, very stable. Their relationship is a constant, a comfort, something to always come home to. And Suga has his school students and Ushijima has his volleyball career and then they have each other. Works very well. 

Bokuto x Hinata

Bright disaster bois. Can I just say good luck to their friends. These two are constantly feeding off each other’s energy. Hinata hypes Bokuto up and Bokuto pulls Hinata forward. All the time, constant movement with these two. They’re almost never home. Either at the gym practicing, out getting ice cream, at an amusement part, or trying to get themselves lost. They’re impossible to keep up with, but so fun to watch. They’re such a happy couple, always smiling, always laughing, always with a new story to tell. Little explorers. But always together. People can see it, too, how utterly bright the two of them get together. It’s actually ridiculous, Kageyama hates them [he thinks they’re cute but he would literally rather die than admit it]. 

Tanaka x Yamamoto

Chaos personified in a relationship. They’re both threatening appearance wise so whenever they go out together, they’re absolutely avoided by everyone. But they’re so nice all the time. Constantly giving out compliments, definitely the couple that will talk about attractive people they see on the street together. Also definitely the couple that is constantly hyping each other up, in everything they do, even like brushing their teeth. They’re stupid. Always having fun together. 

Matsukawa x Hanamaki

These two both have resting facial expressions that aren’t actually indicative of what they’re feeling. This, on top of their personalities, means that these two are the ultimate pranksters. They can keep a poker face like nobody’s business. Absolutely impossible to read. And, unlike some of the other prankster couples, these two do not prank each other often. No, no, no. They team up on other people. Like demons. No one is safe. If you are around, you are a potential target. And they love it. It makes them laugh and its something they can unfailingly do with the other. It’s a bonding thing for them, would definitely make pranking people a date. Other than that, though, they play a lot of video games together. Plus, the lack of emotional expression of the other’s face has never thrown either of them off because they rely on body language and other cues because they themselves understand that the face isn’t always reliable. Very understanding and super in tune with each other. 

Aran x Kita

So, y’all remember when Aran got onto Kita for questioning if it was okay or normal for him to feel happy? That was the Moment. Aran lives in Japan, but he is black and his name is foreign. Because of this, he’s been an oddity his entire life. That doesn’t mean that people don’t like him or that they make fun of him for it, in fact, plenty of people react like the Miya twins. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s an oddity and that people react to it. Kita is also an oddity, not because of his name or his ethnicity, but because of his personality. He doesn’t act like a child and is super dedicated to a strict routine that includes keeping everything religiously clean. Not a lot of kids are like that. And Kita himself has said that he thinks more like an adult than a child, he’s aware of the fact that he’s not like his peers. This helps connect the two of them. They don’t react to each other for what makes them odd, they’re simply friends. Kita has never thought much of Aran’s name or the fact that he’s black and Aran doesn’t mind that Kita doesn’t exactly act like a child. They trust each other, they rely on each other. And they found their common ground at first in the fact that they’re both different in some way.  

Takeda x Ukai

I have shipped these two from the very first conversation I saw them have. Ukai was irritated by Takeda, but admired and acknowledged his unwavering persistence. And Takeda went full creep and learned everything he could about Ukai so that he could manipulate him into coaching the team. Like, this meanie does not give up. And Ukai both hates and loves this trait. Because this adorable teacher should not be able to make people bend to his will like this, dammit. And Takeda is adorable, Ukai knows [he pretends he doesn’t]. Takeda knows that Ukai is a big softie despite his appearance, that he cares a lot more than he lets on, and that he is, legit, a concerned parent half the time [what other kind of person gets onto children all the time to make sure they’re eating properly?]. He also knows that Ukai is smart and dedicated and cares a great deal about his family. So, once Takeda had his sights set on Ukai as a partner, Ukai really couldn’t [and didn’t want to] say no. They become Parents, no questions asked, but not like real parents, like the uncles the kids are always left with. [Ukai thinks he’s smooth-he is not, Takeda finds this adorable and won’t say anything about it].

Tsukishima x Yamaguchi

The only reason this ship made it to the third part is because I wanted a childhood friends to lovers in every part. It really is law. Please, Tsukki is such a grumpy baby and Yamaguchi is such a stressed out puppy. Tsukki is soft for this man and this man alone. Literally cannot actually be mean to him. Yamaguchi knows it to [whenever Tsukki tells him to shut up, Yamaguchi knows that it’s for one of two reasons: Tsukki is flustered or Yamaguchi is doing something Tsukki finds cute and is flustered]. Yamaguchi is a walking protector, will snap at people for attacking Tsukki even if he himself is terrified. And Tsukki has unwavering confidence in Yamaguchi’s abilities. They know each other. Yamaguchi knows that Tsukki is a big softies, that he’s insecure sometimes, that he loves anything strawberry flavored and anything to do with dinosaurs. He knows and he loves Tsukki for it all. And Tsukki knows that Yamaguchi is insecure and quiet and doubtful, but he also knows that Yamaguchi is dedicated and kind and everything he never thought he would find in another person. Yamaguchi is where Tsukki goes to feel safe being himself. And Tsukki is where Yamaguchi goes to feel secure. They’re safe together. 

Nishinoya x Yaku

Honestly, they’re both gremlin smols and I love them. They constantly learn from each other and push each other to be their best. Yaku is a team mom and Noya is team problem child. So, they work pretty well together. Noya gets Yaku to loosen up a bit and Yaku gets Noya to calm the fuck down. Noya lowkey makes him nervous sometimes but thats because Yaku is scared of his own feelings. Like, how can he like this wild mess so much? Please explain it to him, he would like to know. But he does love Noya, a whole damn lot, and he’s not doing anything to change it. 

Kyotani x Yahaba

I cannot believe I forgot to add their part. I’m mad at myself. Kyotani is a big scared asshole. He doesn’t want to let people close to him, he wants to be the best, and he definitely doesn’t want others to know enough about him to see him as anything but strong. So, being vulnerable isn’t his strong suit and he doesn’t let people in. His respect is hard earned, his affection even more so. But Yahaba is a pretty boy with a very strong center. He refuses to take any shit from any one. But he doesn’t act that way unless he needs to. And Kyotani needs him to act like that. And once he does, it gets much harder for Kyotani to believe that Yahaba is just a pretty boy. Yahaba can and will put Kyotani in his place. And Kyotani is constantly pushing Yahaba’s buttons, forcing him to reveal bit by bit how strong is personality actually is, how much he wants to be the best as well. Best bois. Mad dog and mad dog trainer. I love them. Probably my favorite Haikyuu ship, out of the 50 million I have.  

This is the last part, yay!!!

I have too many ships, some pls help me.

This post legit won’t save half of the tags. I’ve typed them twice and it won’t keep them on the damn post. So, I had to go with just one or two tags for each to make sure each ship was in the tags. 

[volvaofowls]

Hi!!! I love your writing I’ve been looking forward to requests opening. I was hoping you could write something for Glorfindel or Aredhel about them with a reader with body image problems who is overweight? If you don’t want to of course that’s completely fine. I hope you have a great day💛

I did a little bit of both. 

I wanted to thank you for your request. I hope I did it justice. I think I am happy with how it turned out, but I always want to improve my writing and to the characters and topics I write about justice. So if there is anything anyone thinks I could have done better (in regards to this or any other of my writings) please don’t be afraid to speak up. 

Glorfindel

-       This elf is a ray of sunshine, he is a social butterfly, and when you become withdrawn in the social situations, it doesn’t take him long to realise there is something not quite right in your mood.

-       He will ask you initially if you are feeling well, and even though he doesn’t push, there is no way Glorfindel believed your quick “I’m ok”. He notices it more around festivities. Even when you are excited about an event, as soon as it comes you are reluctant to go, saying that you want to stay in. Going from excited to quiet.

-       He will see you not eating a lot at the event and that concerns him. You didn’t eat in the days before today, your offhand jokes about “wanting to look pretty” and “trying to slim down so you can eat more at the party” resurfacing in his memory.

-       He will come up to you with a slice of something sweet in his hand. Jokingly bringing it to your mouth, asking you to eat because he doesn’t want you to starve. But as soon as you refuse the food and the word “fat” leaves your mouth, Glorfindel nearly drops the food on the table with troubled expression.

-       He asks you to follow him gently, cutting the party for the two of you short, before turning to one of hosts and asking them for leave, saying he did not feel well.

-       When you two are in the privacy of your chambers he will talk to you. Glorfindel, now after overcoming his initially shocked reaction, absolutely wants to bombard you with questions – “Why did you say that? Is that what you think? Is that how you are feeling right now or all the time? Why you didn’t tell me?” – but blond elf has to restrain himself. He will listen to you and will allow you to set the pace of the conversation. But the question he certainly cannot hold in get out – “What can I do to help you, my love?”

-       Glorfindel is in love with you, all of you. He is so proud to be with you, can even get a little jealous and possessive at times. Glorfindel knows you are beautiful, and he is saddened that you cannot see it yet. He will take this as a chance to compliment you and thank you for being with him and making him happy. The golden boy wants you to know that you have your biggest supporter and admirer in him. And he will work his bum off to make you love yourself as such as he loves you. 

Aredhel

-       Aredhel loves to ride out to hunt, being with her means to be out a lot, being on the move all the time. She is excited for you to come with her, so after some time, in one of the evenings she presents you with a hunting outfit. It is a very athletic type of outfit, tight in some places and open in others.

-       Scrutinising the outfit on your body in front of the mirror, Aredhel overhears you bad mouthing yourself.

-       She does not tolerate you criticizing your body. She will stop you and make you sit down with her. She is not afraid to let you know how hurtful your words are to her and to yourself. Aredhel asks you to remind yourself that you are much more than just looks, she will remind you of all the things you have done together, physically, casually, sensually; of all the challenges you have overcome in your body, of all the things your body is capable of. She is in love with you, all of you, she understands your self-doubt, but self-deprecation Aredhel does not allow. She tells you, that this has to be the last time you talk like this about yourself, the next time you feel like this, she wants you to come straight to her.

-       Aredhel feels guilty, it was her present that triggered this. She will take it away, apologising for being insensitive and not thinking to ask for your opinion. Later, when you are feeling up to it, she will take you to a seamstress, so that you can design your own hunting outfit.

-       The next time you go on the hunt in your new outfit Aredhel is so happy to see you so confident and pleased with yourself. She notes that she hopes to see more and more of your smile, that she can practically hear the joy in your grin.

-       She organises a self-care date for the two of you, and this is something she hopes will become a little tradition between for the two of you. There will be anything you crave that day – massages, making and putting on hair masks, reading, talking about everything and nothing, just lazy cuddles in bed.

-       She loves you and she wants you to know that she is there for you. You don’t have to be alone in this, she is ready to take on and help you overcome anything. 

[gumnut-logic]

Gordon the Octopus

I finished one of the WIPs on my list. Admittedly, this is an older one amd I had a good chunk of it written, but I found an end to it tonight :D

Totally @godsliltippy​ ‘s fault. She sparked the idea back in August last year, I just took a long time to see it through.

Marks & Wings AU, lots of Virgil and Gordon, complete fluff, silliness and self indulgence. The first bit has been posted before, but that was ages ago and it works better as a whole rather than in bits so I’ve reposted the whole thing. 2332 words.

Thank you to all the kind Thunderfam who commented on my WIP list ::hugs you so much:: You guys continue to be amazing.

I hope you enjoy this :D

-o-o-o-

The sun touched the horizon and lit up everything in gold.

Virgil closed his eyes and let its waning warmth soak into his skin.

The breeze was gentle, little more than a tease. It caressed his cheeks, lingered in his hair and tantalised the tracings of his mark across his bare back.

He shivered.

He was wearing only an old pair of cut-off jeans between himself and the warm rock. His feet were bare and dangling in the cool water, his toes teased by the ebb and flow.

His soundscape was filled with that water. The ripples of the lagoon splashing against the rock he was sitting on, the distant surf outside the safety of the caldera.

The squabbles of the petrels on Mateo as they argued about roosts for the night.

It was home.

The day had been a good one. No rescues. A moment to relax and sit back. Each of them had disappeared to their own corners, dabbling in their own pastimes in order to wind down.

Alan had taken to the air in the morning. He hadn’t managed to escape a cautionary word from Scott about staying close to the Island, but that was nothing unusual.

Scott said that to all of them.

Their youngest hadn’t been gone long, choosing only to stretch his golden wings with a few loops of their tiny volcanic rock in the middle of nowhere. Virgil had taken the moment to look up and watch his little brother swoop and dive, golden wings quite a sight in the early morning sun.

Scott and John, of course, were all about catching up on work. Virgil had to intervene at about midday and demand they eat. John was yanked down from orbit with a little extra threat from Grandma.

Virgil had been so happy to see his space brother. A little math and he realised he hadn’t seen him in the flesh for over two weeks.

John indulged him a hug as he knew Virgil craved a physical connection to ground him. Virgil was gentle, knowing that those two weeks in zero gravity would make his brother sensitive to touch.

But he had to.

The spark of connection as their minds reacted was like a tension release. Virgil sighed into his shoulder with relief.

John held him.

But after that, it was all Grandma and eat something, kid. Fortunately, lunch hadn’t relied on her cooking. Virgil had done a supply run on the way back from a minor situation just the day before and the larder was stacked with lazy day goodies.

It was a good meal. For once, everyone was there.

They had spent a good part of the afternoon just lazing about the comms room talking. While they lived most of their lives together, it had become rare being together all at once with no dire emergency needing attention.

There had been sun, conversation and rest.

John. John, of all people, had fallen asleep on the couch.

That had prompted a number of things. Lots of quiet. An interrogation of Eos from the kitchen regarding their brother’s sleep schedule.

This was promptly followed by grounding him for a week to play catch up.

Grandma was not happy.

And no doubt, John would be even less when he woke up.

But hey, the man needed to take better care of himself.

A blanket had appeared.

Virgil may have snuck in a medical monitor and gently clipped it to his shirt to boost the basic vitals his gravity wear provided.

John slept on.

So, they left him there and returned to doing their own things in other parts of the house.

As always, Gordon gravitated towards the sea as late afternoon rolled in. This time Virgil followed him to the water’s edge.

His fish brother’s forays out into the ocean always made Virgil just that touch nervous. There had been times where the aquanaut had gotten himself into trouble…alone, out in that vast wilderness under the surface.

It wasn’t that Gordon didn’t know what he was doing. It was just…Virgil couldn’t reach him.

And he worried.

But Gordy was as much a part of the sea as it was part of him and while the brat respected his concerns, he was still a brat. When he leapt up, morphed into his favourite eagle ray form, and made a splash large enough to soak his engineer brother, it was not unexpected.

There was a reason why sting rays always looked like they were smiling. At least this one thought he was funny.

The smart ass.

A flicker of shadow beneath the surface and Gordon was gone.

Virgil felt him grow distant, only to have a sun shower of mental energy thrown in his direction.

Clearly a ‘cheer up, Virg, I’ll be fine’.

Virgil grunted as he stared out at the water that had swallowed his brother. Gordon would be gone a couple of hours at least. Virgil would occupy himself for the rest of the afternoon, but he knew that come sunset, he would be down by the shore, waiting for him.

And here he was.

Staring out at the sea and the sunset, waiting for that little spark to return.

It wasn’t a chore. It was just something he felt he had to do.

Part of him wished he had brought his sketchbook or his tablet, but the risk was too high. Gordon wouldn’t intentionally soak his stuff, but accidents did happen.

And besides, he didn’t mind taking a moment to just...be.

The sun’s warmth was a caress on his skin and he revelled in it. He let his eyes close and just felt and listened.

Sun.

Water.

Wind.

Birds.

A wet touch on his shoulder.

He couldn’t help it, he flinched. Instinctively he knew what was happening, he knew his brother was being a little shit, but evolution tagged human receptors with flight response for a reason.

Suckers grabbed at his skin.

He stumbled on the rocks as he flung himself to his feet.

The tentacle did not go away.

It had friends.

Virgil suddenly found himself wrapped in several long, wet, suckered appendages.

“Gordon, what the hell are you doing?”

But then cephalopods weren’t the greatest of listeners since they didn’t really have ears.

Gordon, fortunately or unfortunately, did have the ability to transmit emotion to his brother, despite the muffle of transmutation, and the laughter sparkled across Virgil’s mindscape like a rain of sunny stars.

The evening was still golden and warm, but just a touch less relaxing. Virgil stood amongst the rocks with a giant Pacific octopus wrapped around his torso.

He idly stared at the flickering colours of laughter strobing across the chromatophores he could see.

“Gordon, you’re a shit.”

That, of course, only increased the mirth.

Virgil settled his mind and came to terms with the fact he was currently wearing a cephalopod and instead turned to problem solving.

The giant molluscs were quite fascinating. If there was one thing Virgil shared with his fish brother, it was a fascination with life in general, and because his brother spent so much time underwater, Virgil had done his fair share of reading on the topic. Unbeknownst to Gordon, Virgil found cephalopods quite fascinating, both in their communication methods and for painting subjects.

But then, this kraken was a whole different kettle of shellfish.

Virgil stood still for a few moments, waiting to see what his brother would do and, if he was honest, see if his brother would simply let him go.

The mental snickering pretty soon negated that response, so Virgil had to look for a more proactive retaliation.

He prodded a tentacle wrapped around his belly. It wriggled back at him.

Virgil was ticklish. He stifled the thought that his brother might take advantage of that while possessing eight arms.

He could lift. That would bring eight metres of black feathers into the equation, but Gordon was physically in contact with his mark, the feathers would likely phase through him like a piece of clothing.

A tentacle caressed his ribcage and he shivered.

He felt Gordon’s outburst of glee and before he knew it, all of those tentacles were moving, suckers puckering along his ribs and belly, a riot of tickle and tease. There was even one in his hair, its tip dangling in front of his eyes.

His brother’s maniacal mental laughter was all consuming.

Swearing, Virgil spun and leapt into the lagoon, the drop-off immediate enough to take the dive.

His world became a rush of bubbles.

Several tentacles came loose in the chaos and Virgil twisted in the water, hoping to dislodge the rest.

But the water was Gordon’s native environment, and the engineer didn’t have a hope.

The giggling was obnoxious.

Breath soon became an urgency and Virgil pushed towards the flickering light above. He surfaced with an octopus head bopping his nose. Somehow Gordon had slithered around to hang off his front instead of his back.

Virgil glared at his brother through the hair dripping in his eyes.

The head tilted and squirted water into his face.

“Gordon!”

Damnit, Kayo needed to show him some self-defence skills against cephalopods.

The thing was octopuses were strong, but their bodies were somewhat fragile and part of Virgil was worried he might hurt his brother.

Knowing Gordon, he knew that and was playing it to his advantage.

“Why are you doing this?”

Because I can.

Virgil didn’t need telepathy to answer that.

But there was a spark of something beyond the humour. Beyond the rain of sunshine sparkles there was a deep red, a welling of emotion his brother was reluctant to share.

A frown and Virgil reached out mentally to his little brother just that little bit more.

The octopus scrambled up his torso, over his face – to Virgil’s muffled protest – and perched on his head like a turban.

Virgil spat into the water and rubbed his face with both hands. “God, Gordon! Why?!”

But the answer wasn’t built with words, it was built with emotion and it suddenly washed over him.

An overwhelming need to touch, to hug and to feel.

But…?

Virgil reached for his cephalopod hat, but Gordon slipped off into the water with a splash and darted away.

Virgil dove to follow.

He didn’t have a hope in catching up, no matter his brother’s form, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

But Gordon had disappeared.

Damnit!

Oxygen became a necessity far too quickly and, yet again, Virgil cursed his inability to follow his fish brother.

Surfacing dragged his hair into his eyes.

How had he missed it? Gordon could be as in need of touch as Virgil was at times. How had Virgil not seen that his brother just needed a hug?

He mentally kicked himself.

“Virg, it’s not a thing. Don’t tie yourself in knots.”

He spun to find his little brother in human form treading water quietly behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a hug? Hell, why didn’t you just give me one?”

Gordon snorted. “Is that a prescription, bro? You dispensing brotherly hugs?”

“I’m dispensing whatever works, Gords.” His head tilted just a little as he stared at his brother. “C’mere?” He held out his arms, his legs doing the best to keep him stable in the water.

Gordon rolled his eyes. “Don’t drown yourself.”

“Gordon…”

When his brother didn’t respond, Virgil took matters into his own hands and dove at him. The fact he was successful in grabbing a flailing leg proved that Gordon didn’t really want to escape.

A little manhandling and Virgil had his brother in the biggest hug he could manage. It was complicated by the fact that hugging was not conducive to swimming and if Virgil didn’t surface soon, he was going to start losing brain cells, but it was the best he could do with a wriggling fish brother.

Ultimately, it was Gordon who threw them to the surface with a spark of exasperation.

“Virg, I’m fine! What the hell?”

But the emotion bouncing across their connection told the truth. There was little but fondness and love for his silly brother.

“I’m not silly.” Virgil wrinkled his nose.

“Never said you were. However, you did nearly drown yourself trying to give me a hug.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Not.”

“Too.”

“Gordon!”

“What?”

Virgil glared at him.

Predictably, Gordon just smirked at him.

It was Virgil’s turn to be overwhelmed with fondness and love.

Gordon groaned. “Oh god, you are so soppy.”

“What? You’re my brother. I’m allowed to care.”

Gordon fell silent, and for a moment, those brown eyes just stared at Virgil.

Then he found his arms full of brother again. “Love you, bro.”

Surprised, but touched, Virgil’s arms tightened around Gordon and again they dipped below the surface.

Hugs were really conducive to drowning.

And disturbing to sleeping brothers as John startled awake with a rain of confused midnight stars.

Oops.

Virgil made to kick back up to the surface, but suddenly found his arms full of cephalopod again.

Damnit, Gordon.

The sparkling sunshine giggles were back and it was with resignation that Virgil kicked towards the surface.

Perhaps Gordon had a reason for the change and for the cling because when Virgil walked back to the villa and into the comms room wearing his rather heavy cephalopod brother wrapped around him, it brought Scott’s tirade of lecturing John to a sudden halt.

Both brothers stopped and just stared.

Virgil stared back. “What?”

“Is that Gordon?” Scott pointed with both hope and a little fear at the octopus back-pack headwear combination.

A tentacle poked at Virgil’s nose from his forehead. He ignored it and shrugged. “Gords wanted a hug.” He turned away. “I’m going to go have a shower.” An absent wave of a hand.

If his brothers stared as he walked out, he could only smile to himself.

The rain of sunshine laughter from his hat just turned his smile into a grin.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[tsukikoayanosuke]

“We Will Face All Our Fortune and Pain as One.” - Twisted Wonderland x Reader

Human is a selfish creature. Did they really think that they could create something that would surpass the gods? How foolish. How greedy. They wanted power, and they wanted more. They were mocking the gods. So, the gods decided to punish the humans, destroying the world they were living in. Those helpless creatures couldn’t escape the gods’ wrath. But, there was one way to stop the punishment.

A child shall be chosen as the [Messiah] and they must climb the Tower of AI. Inside the tower, the [Messiah] must grab the nine flame, the [blessings], and bring them to the top of the tower to light up the torch so the world can survive for another age.

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You were so young when the gods’ punishment came raining down, killing your parents in order to teach these arrogant humans a lesson. You were alone, confused, and just didn’t have the will to move forward.

That was until someone stretched out their hand for you.

The other kids who lost their parents, who were once alone as well, found their place in a small family they’ve created. At first, you didn’t know why they were smiling despite the world was crumbling around him, but you remembered what they said.

“In sickness and in health, we will always swear that we will face all our fortune and pain as one.”

Their smiles made you realized that you are not alone. Thus, you reached for their hands.

Azul, the calculative leader of the group.

Kalim, the cheerful dancer with the sunshine smile.

Leona, the shepherd who preferred to take a nap than work.

Ruggie, Leona’s companion who made sure that he does his job.

Jamil, Kalim’s best friends, and his singing companion.

Malleus, the mysterious fae who had ways with words.

Riddle, the self-proclaim ‘red queen’ who always stick to the rule.

Jade, the gentleman baker with a mature air around him.

Floyd, the goofy younger twin brother of Jade.

All of them were now your family.

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An unexpected letter came to the Village of Youth one day. It was from the Kingdom. When you opened, your eyes widened.

You were chosen as the next [Messiah].

The letter came with the torch for the [blessings]. But, you still couldn’t believe it. You were chosen for this important job?! Unbelievable!

But, you remember once again about your friends, your family. If doing this job would grant the world forgiveness and give another age for you to live with your family, then you would do it. They’ve done so much for you. Shelter, warm foods, companions, love, everything little thing you appreciated.

But now, it was your turn to do something for them.

You will make them proud.

You will become the [Messiah]. 

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You stood at the exit of the village, carrying your supplies on your back. The torch that was sent to you was in your hand, you were clutching it until your knuckle turned white. Inhaling a deep breath and let it out from your lips, you stepped out.

Well, you were about to step out if it weren’t for voices calling your name making you stop.

Turning around, you saw your friends, running toward you, each of them carrying their own traveling bags. “Guys? What are you doing here?”

Azul was the first one to speak, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Well, we can’t let you go on your own.”

Riddle nodded. “It’s dangerous out there if you’re alone.” He turned his head away, a light blush dusted his cheek. “We’ll be sticking with you just in case.”

“You guys are so nice but you mustn't come,” you said, looking at each one of them worriedly. “It's my mission and I don't want to get you all involved.”

Malleus hummed, stepping forward and put his hand on top of your head. “I know you are worried, child of human,” he said, his hand ran down your hair and you just leaned into the touch. “But this is something that we must do.”

Leona yawned. “It would be troublesome if you got hurt on the way without our help.”

Ruggie snickered. “See? Even Leona is worried.” He looked at you straight in the eye. “But seriously, didn’t we promised to protect each other no matter what may come?”

You bit your lips. To be honest, it would probably be nicer if all of you could travel together. But this was your mission. If they got hurt during the journey, you would never forgive yourself.

You felt Floyd hugged you from behind. “Don’t think too much, shrimpy,” he laughed. “We’ll be fine.”

Jade walked closer to his brother, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We can protect ourselves and you at the same time.”

Kalim reached for your hands, keeping it close to your chest. “You’ll be saving the world! Isn’t it exciting? We want to be part of the journey too!”

Jamil shook his head at his best friend’s cheerfulness but at the same time agree with him. “So, we’ll be going with you to that tower no matter what.”

You let out a sigh. “I can’t stop you can I?” Some of them were shaking their head, but you got the message clear just from the determined glint in their eyes. Azul stepped forward and, once again, stretched out his hand toward you, with the others smiling at you. You couldn’t help but smile back, taking the hand in your own.

Thus, you started your journey with your dearest family by your side.

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The journey was long but you finally arrived at the Tower of AI. Entering the stone tower, you heard the stone door closed behind you. There were two doors awaited you, standing across each other. Behind one of the doors was supposed to be the chamber of the [blessing] while the other door was the stairway leading to the next floor. In order to open the stairways, the [Messiah] must take the [blessing] first.

You didn’t have to guess for suddenly one of the stone door slid open, revealing a [blessing], the [Blooming Wave], rested on top of the altar. You started to walk toward the shining [blessing]. You could felt your heart hammering behind your ribs as you reached out…

A hand suddenly appeared on top of yours. Turning your head, you saw Azul smiling at you. “We will face all our fortune and pain as one,” he said. But, suddenly his warm smile turned into a smirk and your eyes widened when he suddenly pushed you out of the room. You could hear him laughing as the door slammed shut.

Azul… He couldn’t…

But… You were the [Messiah]… You were the one who was supposed to take the [blessing]. Not him. Why… Why did he steal it from you?

The room suddenly turned cold. You glanced behind you and you saw the rest of the gang were glaring with hate at each other as if they were ready to kill. It was like they were enemies now.

The door to the other side of the room suddenly opened, revealing the stairway. You walked slowly, still shocked by what just happen. You could hear the footsteps of your friends behind you. They… They wouldn’t do it again, right?

Like on the first floor, the door to the [blessing] chamber, the [Fire Banquet], was opened. You stepped in slowly, glancing toward your friends. None of them seemed like they wanted to follow you. Maybe the first one was just a mistake. There was no way-

Light footsteps followed you and suddenly you both of your hands were grabbed. You gasped when you found out it was Kalim, taking you into a small dance, but you were terrified for his usual sunny smile was colder.

“Off you go~” Even his cheerily voice sounded wrong as he threw you out from the chamber. You could see him gave his audience a small bow before the door was slammed shut in front of their face. Kalim too? But he gave you his support! You remember how his face beamed when you showed him the letter. So why…

You heard someone running ahead. Scanning quickly through the gang, you noticed the hyena was nowhere to be seen. “Ruggie, wait!” You ran ahead toward the third floor, hoping you could catch him. The door to the chamber of the [Grace of Sun] was opened, and running was about to enter-

You suddenly heard a roar and Leona suddenly pounced from behind you, pining Ruggie to the floor. At first, you felt relieved. Yes, Leona stopped him! Now you can-

“Sorry, Ruggie.” You heard the lion said. He glanced back toward you, showing his fanged smirk. “But I’m taking this.”

Leona threw Ruggie back to you and walked toward the [blessing], back straight and filled with pride as if he just won a game. The chamber door closed, leaving both of you dumbfounded. You… You couldn’t believe it. Your hand clenched into a fist. Leona… Sure, he sounded like he didn’t care when you told him about the letter like the usual lazy lion he was, but you believed that he was someone more. He decided to stick this very long and tiring journey for you. Why would you do this?!

“Yeah. Right.” You heard Ruggie growled. “As if that would stop me.”

You felt Ruggie push you to the floor and he immediately took off to the next floor. With each step, you kept repeating the same question in your head. You still couldn’t believe those who you dare to call your brothers would betray you.

Reaching the fourth floor, Ruggie had already entered the chamber to the [Peaceful Darkness] without even looking back. You tried to catch up to him, but the chamber door suddenly slammed shut in front of your face.

“The chosen one is me…” you spoke. You turned around, frustrated with everything. “The prophecy said-!” You stopped yourself, shocked when you saw that all of them stare at you with no expression.

“If you keep it for yourself, we won’t forgive you!”

How much could greed change a person at this point?!

All of them started running as if it was a race. All you could think of was you needed to stop them from stealing even more [blessings]s from you. “Please! Stop! Don’t do it!” you screamed. But none of them listen to you.

Jamil was the first one to enter the chamber of the [Trembling Ground]. Stretching out his hand, he spoke out his last vow. “For a servant to follow his master, I shall take this one just like Kalim!” He laughed cruelly as the door slammed shut. You stopped your track at the closing door, remembering Jamil smiled when you were talking to Kalim, saying his good luck for you.

The next chamber was the [Rumble of Thunder]. You tried to run ahead, but Malleus suddenly appeared in front of you with his fae power. He was speaking in the ancient language of the fae that you could never understand. But that smirk on his face was enough to stop you.

“You should leave this to me, little human,” he whispered to your ear. He then stepped back, locking himself along with the [blessing] inside.

You could feel your body trembling. Where have all of your trusted friends gone off to? Were they your enemies now?

Could it be that you were wrong about their kindness all along?

You felt numb as you climb to the next floor. The door to the chamber of the [Rondo of Whirlwind]. You were still frustrated with everything that you never realized Riddle had walked in first, lifting his shepherd staff, blocking your way.

“Take another step and it’ll be off with your head.”

Even in this situation, you couldn’t deny the little queen’s order. You felt as if your heart just stopped when the door slammed shut in front of your face. Even Riddle betrayed you… What were they thinking?!

Glancing back, you realized that the Leech twins were the only ones left. Jade just kept staring at the door with a cold expression while Floyd was looking bored as usual. You felt tired. You couldn’t take this pain of watching all your trusted friends stabbing you one the back anymore. And they were so supportive before.

Without any sound and heavy steps, the three of you climbed to the next floor. The door to the [Garden of Silver Snow] was opened for you. Once again, you tried to step forward, but someone stopped you. Looking back you saw Floyd’s hand on your shoulder. But, instead of him entering, it was Jade who pushed the two of you behind.

“Jade! No!” Floyd stretched out his hand as you covered your mouth in shock. Jade turned around, tears were flowing from eyes, but he was laughing like a madman.

“Looks like I win this time, Floyd!” And the door slammed shut. You kept repeating to yourself that Jade would never leave Floyd alone. He would never betray his own brother. But he was doing the exact thing you thought he would never do.

You forced yourself to climb the next floor. The chamber door opened, revealing the [Fetal Movement of Magma]. You walked toward it weakly but stopped when Floyd once again hold your shoulder.

“Hey, Shrimpy!” He whined to your ear. “I’ll take this one, okay?”

You turned around grabbing Floyd's hands. “No, please!” you screamed. “Why do you keep doing this?! What is wrong with you?!”

Floyd's eyes suddenly turned dark and he glared at you. “So noisy,” he muttered and you squeaked. He stepped forward, pushing you harshly out of the way. He turned his head one last time toward you, showing his grin filled with pride.

You staggered backward until your back hit the wall when the sound of the closing door echoed through the tower. You wanted to claw your face screaming in frustration. All of the [blessings]s. They stole them! They betrayed you! Was this their intention from the beginning when they offered to travel with you? Was every laughter, every warmth that you felt during your journey was a lie?

The door to the top of the tower finally slid open. Your grip on the unlighted torch tightened. You had come this far, might as well finish it, right? Desperately ignoring the growing despair inside of you, you stepped up the stairs toward the top.

Up there, you found the altar you supposed to lit up, along with nine statues, each of them was holding a red candle in its hands. A silhouette you don’t recognize stepped from behind the altar, but you could hear a sound similar to a tapping cane onto the floor from each step the silhouette took.

“Welcome, oh, chosen [Messiah],” the silhouette spoke, “I was sent by the gods to greet you.”

You bit your lips. “But… I didn’t get the [blessings].”

The silhouette chuckled. “My dear, those are the gods’ [punishments] to the world.”

[Punishments]?

All of the sudden, you could hear them. Your family. Their screams filled your ears as they endured the cruel torture from the world. But, even between their cries, you could hear them whispered directly toward you.

“Even though being drowned in the rough sea…” Azul…

“Dancing in hellfire…” Kalim…

“Helplessly falling on to my knees in the merciless drought…” Leona…

“Losing my mind and forever trapped in the eternal darkness…” Ruggie…

“Swallowed by the great earth…” Jamil…

“Don’t worry, my dear. We will not let you go to face everything all on your own!”

You fell onto your knees, tears never stopped flowing from your eyes as you stared at the messenger, pleading that this isn’t real. There’s just no way this is the truth. That your family suffered for you…

“Even though being struck by the judgmental lightning…” Malleus…

“Torn up by the hurricane…” Riddle…

“Frozen to the bones and soul…” Jade…

“Crawling through fire…” Floyd…

“In sickness and in health, we will never stop believing that we will face all our fortune and pain as one!”

Of course. Of course, it had to be that. They knew about this. They knew that if you travel alone you would suffer everything all on your own. And they just couldn’t let you shoulder the weight of the punishments alone. That way they were willing to throw their lives for you and choose to take the torture behind the door.

They didn’t have to do it this far. But they chose to do it.

All of it just for you.

And you thought they betrayed you.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered. “I’m sorry…” But you knew that even a thousand apologies won’t fix anything. A million apologies wouldn’t bring them back. The only thing you could do was to finish the job given to you. Even with the little strength and will left inside of you, you just had to step forward a little bit more. If not for the world, for them.

Raising the torch that you’ve won with your friends high to the sky, you lowered your head. Your tears wouldn’t stop falling down your just like the candles in the hands of the nine statues. They melted and flowed toward the altar, lightening up the Fire of Life that you’ve been trying to reach this whole time.

As heard the sound of the bell with all its triumphant glory, you raised your head, listening to the messenger’s final words.

You, the [Messiah], smiled bitterly to yourself.

You’ve created the nine [sorrows].

Raising your hand to the altar, a beam of holy light shone out. The former dark sky turned into the familiar blue. The dry land had turned green and all the plants lived again. You’ve restored the world. All of you restored the world.

If you had to be honest, you didn’t know what you should do, knowing that you now lived in a world where they didn’t exist.

But... Maybe you could try…

If it wasn’t for you… Maybe you could do it for them…

You didn’t want to waste their sacrifice, right?

So… Live on…

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We have reached the +250 Tumblr Followers mark! Thank you so much. I know I haven’t been writing that much recently and most of my pages are uncoordinated at this point, but still! Thank you so much for your support.

I found that video a while ago and I know I just have to write it. I’ve actually written something based on “Blessed Messiah and the Tower of AI” from a different fandom, but it was too long and a bit confusing if I want to straight up adapt it to Twisted Wonderland. So instead, I just write based on the full video instead of extending it.

Also, originally I want to insert my MC/OC since technically this is considered a Gaiden episode, but I decided to change it to Twisted Wonderland x Reader because it might be more impactful of you can directly insert yourself into the story. Ah… The betrayal…

Well, anyway. Thank you for reading!

[thesassenachswiftie]

Lover Chapter 11: “I Forgot That You Existed”

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10

Summary:  Claire runs into someone from her past, which becomes a catalyst for some important decisions to be made. This allows Jamie to finally introduce Claire to his family.

Notes: As always, thank you for reading. I had every intention of this being a very short chapter, but Claire had other plans and made some important life choices instead, so now it's one of the longest chapters I've written! A lot of important things are happening!There's a few instances of smut in this chapter (the first being at the very beginning) if that's something that bothers you; I'm sorry these two won't stop! I'm going to have to seperate them.

Chapter 11: “I Forgot That You Existed”

           Jamie woke up to the morning light creeping into the bedroom. This time when he reached for Claire beside him she was there. He drew her naked body close to his, spooning her gently and kissing her head as she hummed sleepily. As she started to blink her eyes open she noticed his growing erection pressed against her buttocks. “Well good morning to you too, Mr. Fraser, Jamie Jr.” she greeted, pressing against him harder.

           He grunted a distinctly Scottish noise of sleepy wanting and began kissing her neck. “Mmm…” he groaned. “Jamie Jr. wants to say hullo to ya”

           She chuckled, rolling over to turn towards him, “He didn’t say enough to me last night?” she raised an eyebrow coyly, lifting one leg over his legs.

           “Och! That was hours ago, seems he misses ya.” he said, continuing to craft the story of Jamie Jr. “He gets chilly in the morning, ya ken? Needs ya to warm him up.”

           “Mmm… I’d be much obliged to help him, wouldn’t want him left out in the cold.” she positioned her hips towards his erection, ready to guide him in. He entered her, and they rocked together, eyes locked, stealing languid kisses from time to time. They moved slowly, building up their pleasure, enjoying the closeness of their bond. It was so nice, so peaceful and quiet in the early morning light of the room. The slow movement was really getting to Claire, Jamie’s pelvic bone was perfectly situated so that it was consistently rubbing against her clit, slowly pleading with her to come to the edge of her pleasure. With each stroke her breathing rate increased and she began to whimper and moan as he thrusted. Finally, she shattered around him, crying out his name into the glow of the bedroom. God, he loved the sound of his name on her lips. He saw this as an invitation to increase his speed, rolling on top of her to bring himself home easily, encouraged by her pleasure.

           Claire had gotten out of the shower, dressed, and dried her hair all while Jamie was still lingering in the bed, still completely nude, a sight to behold. “Get up you lazy bones! It’s bagel time!”

Jamie grunted, “Ya tired me out last night, Sassenach.” That wasn’t surprising, after they recovered from their lovemaking session on the chaise lounge, he took her against the wall on the way to the bedroom, and they had made love a third time after settling into bed. He stretched dramatically across the bed--he was a sight to behold and was sending her a clear message with his body language--he knew exactly what he was doing. “Nice try, but my appetite is solely for Murray’s Bagels right now and I won’t be distracted until I get some. If you don’t get up soon I’m going without you!”

           “Hmmpfff, at least I’d know where ya went this time.” he replied smugly.

           “Actually, I could just pop out and grab them, if I call in the order before I leave it’ll just be a quick trip, I’ll be back by the time you’re out of the shower, if you ever plan on getting out of bed.” She tossed a decorative pillow that had ended up on the floor at him playfully.

“Aye Sassenach, that’s a braw plan, I don’ wanna keep ya from yer wee bagels any longer.”

“Here’s the menu” she handed her phone to him. “Let me know what you want”

“Hmm… Omelets on a bagel, that sounds… different, but delicious all the same… McCann’s Irish oatmeal, definitely want to try some of that. I always say parritch is the best way to start the day”

“McCann? Wouldn’t that be Scottish, with the ‘Mc’ at the beginning?”

“Nae, Sassenach, that one’s the Irish Gaelic.”

“Oh I didn’t realize they had ‘Mc’s’ too.”

“Spoken like a true Sassenach” he teased, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ll teach ya a lesson later about how to tell a Scot from an Irish man.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled knowingly. “Have you decided what you want yet?”

“Aye, I’ll have the Western Omelet on a Bagel, McCann’s Oatmeal, and… a black and white for dessert.”

“Well, you certainly worked up an appetite last night, sir, anything to drink?”

“Aye, I’ll have a cappuccino if it's no’ too much trouble.”

“None at all darling, I’ll call it in now.”

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           The second Claire stepped into the small bagel shop, the nostalgia of the purely delicious scent of fresh baked good wafting through the air caused her mouth to water with anticipation. She was excited to eat, but she also was excited to share the experience with Jamie. The picture of him lounging naked was still fresh in her mind and she could hardly wait to get back to him. It had only been a ten-minute walk, but she was glad she ordered ahead so she didn’t have to wait any longer. She approached the counter and spoke to the young hipster at the cash register, “Pick up for Claire?”

           “That’ll be $33.86.” Claire inserted her card into the small white card reader as the cashier swiveled an iPad screen around for her to add a tip and sign. “Here’s your food, the drinks will be just a moment, we like to make them fresh”

           She smiled. “Not a problem.”

           “Claire?” she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she heard her name in a familiar, distinctly British voice that had once reminded her of her father, but now only felt cold. She hadn’t thought about Frank once this week, she’d all but forgot that he existed in recent months, her thoughts entirely occupied by Jamie. The fact that she had moved past him didn’t make it any easier to turn around and face him for the first time in months.

           “Frank!” she chuckled nervously, “Long time no see!”

           “What brings you into the city?”

           “Went to see Wicked yesterday, thought we’d make a weekend out of it.” She wasn’t sure she should have used the pronoun we, she didn’t want Frank to react to her being with Jamie, it was a touchy subject between the two of them. Hopefully he would assume she was with Jo and not brooch the subject any further.

           “Cappuccino and a Chai for Claire!” the barista shouted.

           She turned back to the counter. “That’s me. Could I get a carrier for them?” The barista loaded them into a recycled cardboard carrier and handed it across the counter.

           “Here you go. Have a great day!”

           “Thanks, you too!”

           Frank eyed her suspiciously, “Who’s the cappuccino for?” Damn. He remembered her order and apparently Jo’s as well. Jo was a vegan and of course wouldn’t order a creamy cappuccino, usually opting for black coffee instead.

           “I’m not entirely sure that’s any of your business.” she replied coldly.

           “It’s not that filthy Scot is it? Surely he’s not still around.”

           She felt a fire rise up within her at his words. She no longer felt anything towards the man standing before her, not love, not hate, just indifference, but she did love the man waiting for her several blocks away and hearing Frank insult him so casually caused something in her to snap.”

           “Jamie is more of a man than you’ll ever be.” she hissed viciously. She continued in a low, cutting voice, she didn’t intend to cause a scene, but the fury welling up inside her had to be released. “He sees me in a way that you never could, he treats me better than you ever did. We’ve made love no less than four times in the past twenty-four hours and I might just go do it again. He’s the best fuck I’ve ever had. He is more of a man than you’ll ever be in every possible way.” She knew her words were cutting deep, hurting his pride, his ego, his fragile masculinity, everything holding his identity together and she couldn’t care less. Frank had shown who he was and she had no reason to stand for his bullshit any longer. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get this cappuccino to him before it gets cold.” On that note, she stormed out of the shop leaving him dumbfounded, an embarrassed flush on his face, eyes darting around the shop suspicious of anyone who may have heard.

           She took a deep inhale of the crisp fall air to calm her nerves. The initial surge of adrenaline she felt in seeing them had mingled with something else, something empowering that was flowing through her veins. She strode the sidewalks with confidence, beaming with pride at finally telling Frank off. She thought that telling Frank about Jamie would kill her, but it didn’t. In fact, it had the opposite effect. How many days had she spent thinking about how he did her wrong? How much time had she wasted letting him live in her mind rent free? The first iteration of her and Jamie’s relationship she was constantly comparing the two, and Frank always came up short, but he was always there, lurking in the back of her mind, she couldn’t get away from him. She had been living in the shade Frank and his cronies were throwing until all her sunshine was near gone. Now, she felt free of that, she was ready to step out into the light and leave that part of her life behind her once and for all. Frank may have brought her reputation down, he may have tripped her up and left her on the ground, but he wouldn’t keep her down any longer. He taught her some hard lessons, and for that she was grateful, but she didn’t need to think about him anymore. She realized she had found herself and who she truly wanted to be and Jamie was the one who brought it out of her. She didn’t feel like she needed him to have that sense of self, more that he allowed her to be who she was unquestioningly. He drew out parts of her that she had long since hidden trying to be the ‘perfect woman’--whatever that meant. Jamie absolutely left her tongue tied and giddy. She found herself in her feelings more than Drake, but their relationship went so much deeper than the infatuation it seemed to be at the beginning. Something happened one magical night, and she couldn’t even pinpoint exactly when, but she knew with great certainty that their love was unshakeable. She would stick around for him while he was gone. She would have fought the whole town, not just Frank, for him if she had to. She would be right there for him, no matter what. He was there for her when no one else was, (except Jo, steadfast friend that they were), and she would be the same.

----------

           She had gotten back to Cornelia St. quicker than she realized, lost in her thoughts and realized she had forgotten what the code to the door was--with everything that had happened in the last half hour, it was all just a blur. She had to call Jamie again for the numbers and she ascended the steps to the apartment, once again Jamie greeted her at the door. He was freshly showered and wearing just his pajama bottoms slung low on his hips and smelling strongly of some manly shower gel. His curls were still damp and his fair skin was flushed from the heat of the shower. God, he was attractive no matter what state he was in.

           “Breakfast is served” she chimed as she handed him his cappuccino, walking to the dining room table to dig in.

           “Thank ya, Sassenach” he kissed her, taking his bag of food from her and settling at the table to enjoy his portion.

           There was so much Claire was bursting to tell him, but she didn’t know how to bring it up. She didn’t want to hide the fact that she had run into Frank, there was nothing to hide, but she didn’t want to kill her positive mood by upsetting Jamie either. She had also made two decisions on her walk: the first being that she no longer wanted to hide their relationship and the second, that she needed to move out of the house she co-owned with Frank as soon as possible. The first topic of conversation wouldn’t be difficult, but the second was more complicated. She had a feeling he wouldn’t mind moving in together under normal circumstances, but he was leaving and his apartment was owned by his sister. Jo’s apartment was almost as small as Jamie’s, but she didn’t think Jo would be as keen to let her share a bed.

           First things first, she thought, sliding her phone out of her pocket with an exaggerated gesture, a coy smile on her face, holding the phone surreptitiously close to her body, glancing up to try to catch Jamie’s eye as he enjoyed his breakfast. Moments later, his phone on the table lit up. He glanced across the table curiously as he peered at the screen, a Facebook notification Claire Beauchamp sent you a relationship request.

Jamie’s face flushed with joy. “What’s this?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow. The look on his face reminded Claire of a puppy who had just gotten a new toy.

           “I’m done hiding.” She declared, a proud smile on her face.

           “Really?” he lit up the room with his smile, his heart felt fit to burst, it took great restraint not to dive across the table and scoop her into his arms. She nodded in affirmation. “Oh Claire! I canna tell ya how happy I am ta hear it.”

“I’m glad” she was smiling, touched by his reaction as he accepted the request, adding the words ‘In A Relationship with Claire Beauchamp’ permanently to his profile.

“What about Frank?”

           “Funny you should mention that; I actually ran into him while I was out.”

           “Oh Claire,” his face transformed, a look of concern on his brow and he reached across the table for her hand.

           “I’m fine, I promise. Better than fine actually.” She flashed a satisfied grin, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I told him off. He called you a filthy Scot and I tore his stupid ego to pieces.” She was smirking, clearly proud of herself.

           “I thank ye for defending my honor, milady.” He held her hand up, and leaned over the table to kiss it. “And I’m proud of ya for standing up to him, I know it couldna‘ve been easy. You’re a brave wee thing Claire, and ya make me so happy.” They sat in silence for a few moments, basking in the glow of their mutual feelings for one another.

           “There’s one other thing” she put forward, much more hesitant than before.

           “What is it, mo chridhe?”

           “I have to move out of that house. Frank co-owns it and I want to cut my ties with him completely, but I’m not sure what to do, it’s been impossible to find a place of my own within my budget.”

           “I could talk to Jenny about ya staying at my place while I’m gone, it’s not much, but I’m sure she’ll be happy that someone will keep the dust from gathering.”

           “Really? You think she’d be ok with it?”

           “I canna say for sure; my sister can be a fickle wee thing, but I’ll ask her.”

           “Oh, Jamie, that would be perfect!”

----------

           Regardless of what Jenny ultimately said, they decided that Claire would spend the remainder of the week at Jamie’s before he had to fly back to England on Saturday. Jamie was elated to finally properly introduce Claire to his family as his girlfriend, and had a feeling Jenny would love Claire almost as much as he did. Jenny had already been blowing up his phone since the changed relationship status earlier that morning, and before they left the AirBnB he called her and it was decided that he would bring Claire over that later night. Jenny insisted on having a proper family dinner, and when Jamie nervously broached the subject with Claire, she eagerly accepted the invitation to his great relief.

           “I have met Jenny before.” she explained, recognizing his apprehension.

           “Aye, but ya dinna think bringing ya home for dinner gives off ‘meet the parents’ vibes?”

           “Hmm… perhaps you’re more nervous about this than I am. What kind of dirt does your sister have on you? I can’t wait to find out.” She smirked, hitting him lightly on the shoulder as they walked the city sidewalks, headed to their final destination on Jamie’s list before leaving the city. It was, of course, a carriage ride through Central Park. Claire couldn’t help but laugh at how cliché it was, but at the same time so fitting for the hopeless romantic Scotsman she’d found herself falling more and more in love with every moment.

           On the carriage ride, Jamie filled Claire in on all the members of his family, although she already felt she knew them he spoke of them so often. She listened intently however, she’d always loved the way he spoke of his family, and he seemed nervous about how the evening would go and she knew talking about it would help ease him. He wanted everything to go smoothly, he knew Claire was special and he wanted Jenny to recognize it too. He had every intention of spending the rest of his life with her and that process would be a lot easier if Jenny welcomed her into the family wholeheartedly.

----------

           They spent most of the train ride home snuggled together, checking the myriad of notifications on their phones. Most were some iteration of the expression “What?!?” or eye emojis imploring for more information. Jamie’s thread had a few borderline lewd comments, and Claire’s had a few angry reacts from Frank’s crowd mixed in with the likes and ‘wow’ reactions. Jamie had a few “pics or it didn’t happen” comments and he asked Claire for permission to post the selfie they had taken that weekend. Gaining her consent, he uploaded the picture to Instagram with the caption: Wonderful weekend in the city with my lass ❤️ . He shared it to Facebook as well, tagging her. She felt that reoccurring swarm of butterflies again as she opened the notification and read his caption, musing on the words my lass with that tiny red heart. He really did make her feel like a teenager again, every little expression of love making her giddy. It didn’t matter who thought poorly of their relationship, they couldn’t possibly understand and wouldn’t try. Nothing could crush her spirits now, their love was too strong, too powerful for her to care anymore. Their love was a solid anchor holding fast, neither wind nor waves could sweep them away into darkness so long as they had each other. It seemed there was no storm strong enough to sweep them away.

They arrived back at the train station on Long Island in the early afternoon; Jamie followed Claire back to her house so she could gather what she needed for the week. Jamie parked his car behind hers in the driveway and followed her in through the front door. It was strange that he hadn’t been here since the night they met, New Year’s Eve nearly a year ago. The house had been decorated extravagantly then, and now looked stark and barren by comparison. There didn’t seem to be any personal touches in the decor, it looked more like a home you’d see in a magazine or a music video.

           “Are you sure it’s ok for me to be here?” he whispered reverently, as if they had just stepped into a mausoleum and not a large suburban foyer.

           “Of course, it is my house after all. At least half mine, and Frank hasn’t been here in months, he packed all his things and left for good it seems.”

           “Is there still a bar downstairs?” he asked smoothly.

           “It’s a little early for a drink, isn’t it Mr. Fraser? But yes, it’s still there, not as well stocked as it was when you were last here.” It had just dawned on Claire that Jamie hadn’t been here since the night they met. “Let’s have a look, shall we?” she said coyly as she led him to the finished basement.

           “This is where we met.” she said, stating the obvious.

           “I see ya have bar stools now.”

           “Yes, though I can’t say I use them much,” she replied, resigned to the fact that her house was an empty shell of what it could have been.

           “Still sitting on the bar then, Ms. Beauchamp?”

           “Why, is that how you like your women?” She eyed him flirtatiously, backing into the bar and hoisting herself up.

           “My women and my whiskey” he replied, approaching her and beginning to kiss her neck. “Mmm, ya looked so bonny that night, yer wee curls piled atop your head like a crown. Yer gorgeous legs dangling off the bar” speaking between kisses, he ran his hands up her thigh, wishing they were as bare as they had been that night, instead of denim clad as they were now. “I ken I wanted ya then, Claire, imagined running my hand up that dress of yours.” he pantomimed exactly what he had wanted to do, landing his palm on her fully clothed crotch.

           Claire moaned, feeling warmer and warmer underneath his hand, also beginning to silently curse the fact that she’d worn jeans. “I wanted you then too, I know I shouldn’t have, but when I saw those hands around that whiskey glass,” she took his hand, the one that wasn’t on her jeans, to her mouth and sucked lightly on his index finger. “I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like on my body.”

           “Aye? Whereabouts on yer body”

           She moaned again, as restrictive as her jeans were starting to feel, there was something to be said about the friction the fabric was creating between his fingers and the center of her pleasure. “Mmm… right about where they are now.” she sighed again, as he caressed in just the right spot “only in my imagination, we weren’t wearing quite as much”

           “Aye, mine too, but I think that can be arranged.” he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, helping her wiggle out of them. Freed from her denim cage she spread her legs wide on the edge of the bar. “Christ Claire, this is better than I ever could have imagined. He pulled her shirt over her head, and then his own, and removed his own jeans before returning his mouth to her skin. Her position atop the bar brought her breasts right to his eye level, spilling out of a lacy green bra in perfect contrast to her milky skin. He brought his palms to them, massaging them and drawing them close as he planted kisses along her neck. “Dija imagine my hands here, Sassenach?”

           “Mmm… yes.” He continued his trail of kisses, moving down her breasts, sucking her nipples through the thin fabric as she continued to whimper and moan. She had been running her fingers through his hair, tugging at the curls, and removed one hand to unclasp her bra behind her back, freeing her breasts for him to devour with his lips and tongue, which he did eagerly. He moved one hand from her breast down her torso, and thrust it into the waistband of her matching lacy panties.

           “And ye definitely imagined my hand here, aye?” he asked, stroking her clit vigorously.

           “Yes! Jamie!” she cried out, panting with need and desire. He continued to stroke small circles around that bundle of nerves until she was begging for more, “Please, Jamie” she gasped.

           “Mmmm, what?” he inquired, clearly enjoying teasing her.

           “I want you inside me,” she moaned, pulling at the waistband of his boxer briefs.

           “No.” he replied, brushing her hand aside.

           “No?” she inquired, a bit wounded, hoping she’d misheard.

           “No mo nighean donn,” he responded, thrusting a finger inside her as she gasped, his thumb taking over the dexterous work of stroking her clit, “I want ta watch you.”

           All Claire could do was moan in response, and he continued pleasuring her, watching intently for every flinch of her face, enjoying every whimper that escaped her swollen lips. He wanted to be able to picture her exactly like this when he was gone, gasping his name in the low light. He took it all in as he finally brought her over the edge of her pleasure, the way her wild curls flew back as she cried out his name in pure, orgasmic bliss. This is the picture he wanted of her always in his mind during their time apart--he committed every inch of her to memory as he gently nursed her through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

----------

The atmosphere of the Murray house was warm and inviting. The smell of something delicious and savory wafted through the air. It was a stark contrast to the home Claire had just left behind. Where her walls were bare and unpainted, the walls of the foyer were covered in a cornflower blue damask wallpaper, scuffed and scratched in places, cluttered with picture frames and children's drawings taped on askew at intervals. Where Claire’s honey colored faux wood floors were neat, polished and clutter-free, the dark wooden floorboards of the front hall of their farmhouse was rustically weathered with age, had piles of shoes spilling over near the door and stray toys along the baseboards. Deafening silence awaited Claire upon her arrival home each night, but here, the sounds of life could be heard everywhere as if the walls themselves were vibrating with it. Laughter of children could be heard from somewhere far upstairs, or perhaps downstairs? Claire couldn’t tell, but it was a beautiful sound to her after living in silence for so long.

           “Jenny, Ian, we’re here!” Jamie shouted through the house.

           “Uncle Jamieeeee!” a small girl with brown pigtails came bounding through the hallway, throwing herself at him, followed instantly by two boys, one around middle school age, the other quite a bit younger, lingering around his legs, vying for his attention.

           “Maggie, Michael, Young Jamie! Och! I’ve only been gone a wee couple a days!”

           “Uncle Jamie! Ma says if I do all my schoolwork this week we can play video games all night Friday night!”

           “Uncle Jamie, come look at the picture I drawed!”

           “Uncle Jamie, can we play race car drivers?”

           Jamie felt himself being pulled into the vortex of the house, and Claire stood awkwardly in the small foyer, unsure of what to do. Another small little girl had appeared, younger than the first, wide-eyed and staring at Claire from a doorway down the hall. She tugged on her uncle’s shirt. “What is it Kitty my girl?” Claire didn’t hear her reply, but she must have elicited that it was confidential information, because Jamie knelt down on one knee and she cupped her tiny hands around his ear to whisper into them.

           “Who’s that pretty lady?” she whispered, softly enough that only Jamie could hear; Claire could only see the smile that stretched across his whole face in reaction, catching her eye across the hall.

           “Kids, I’d like ya to meet Miss Claire.” he announced, reaching out his hand to beckon her towards them. The sight made Claire’s breath catch briefly, and for a moment, there were no children, no toys strewn about, no scratches in the wallpaper. Just Jamie, blue eyes locked on hers, down on one knee, holding her left hand. She couldn’t help but to imagine him in this exact position, asking her to spend the rest of their lives together and that thought didn’t scare her anymore. In fact, it was something she hoped for in the depths of her heart. She realized she’d been standing there gawking at him for a few moments too long after he’d introduced her and broke contact to look at all the children Jamie had just introduced, having already forgotten their names, save young Jamie which was easy to remember for obvious reasons.

           “Pleased to meet all of you” she smiled warmly at the children, “thank you for allowing me into your home.” The littlest girl tucked herself bashfully behind her uncle’s now-standing legs, peering out from behind them to smile at Claire.

           The little girl with the pigtails, evidently less shy, approached Claire and extended her hand, “Pleased to meet you too” she said, mimicking Claire’s tone as best she could as Claire accepted her hand shake. “You’re very pretty. Are you Uncle Jamie’s girlfriend?” Claire couldn’t help but blush and smile at the question, turning to Jamie, she saw his face had a similar expression. She silently asked his permission to answer the question and he gave a subtle nod of assent.

           “Yes, yes I am” she said. Saying it out loud felt even more refreshing than updating her Facebook status earlier had made her feel. That giddy teenager feeling was once again at the forefront of her conscience, giving her a solid foundation and the courage to face whatever the days, weeks, and months ahead of her would bring.

They followed the children into a small playroom cluttered with every kind of toy imaginable. Colorful drawers and large shelves showed an attempt at organization, but there seemed to be no system the children were capable of following and toys, books, games and dress up clothes were strewn about throughout the room. The children vied for their Uncle’s attention, and those who were less shy included Claire, eager to show all their favorite toys and explain their imagined lives to someone new.

“Kid’s! Wash yer hands, it’s time for supper!” Jenny’s voice bellowed from the kitchen. Jamie helped encourage the children to heed their mother, delicately playing both sides to convince them how awful their mother would be if they didn’t, simultaneously making it a competition to see who could get their hands the cleanest. Claire played along as best she could, admiring how good Jamie was with the children. He would make a great father someday. Picturing her with his own brood of red-headed children filled her heart with a radiant joy that traveled through her chest, and deep into her gut. Perhaps it was too soon to think about it, but she imagined herself carrying his children, giving him that gift, the warm smile he would have at becoming a father. He could see him tossing a giggling toddler in the air, kissing boo-boos, wiping away tears, reading bedtime stories. The thought was enough to bring her to tears, as she stood there observing him lost in a daydream, a goofy smile plastered on her face, blushing at how far she’d let her thoughts carry her away, hoping her glass face wouldn’t give away too much.

They headed into the dining room and settled at the Murray’s large dining room table. A man with a fair complexion and kind eyes limped into the room with the help of a cane held in one hand, carrying a child who couldn’t have been more than a year old in his other arm. He lifted her into a high chair beside the head of the table.

“Claire, this is my best friend and brother-in-law, Ian, and of course, wee Janet.” Jamie said, gesturing towards Ian with one hand and using the other to tousle the baby’s fine hair.

Claire rose from her seat and extended a hand to Ian. “Pleased to meet both of you.”

“Welcome, Claire!” Ian said, taking her hand in both of his and shaking it warmly “So glad ta finally meet the lass responsible for the goofy smile that’s been plastered on Jamie’s face for some time!” he teased.

“Och! ‘twas worse than when ya started dating my sister, need I remind you! Were practically running into the walls yer heid was so far up in tha clouds.” Jamie retorted good-humoredly.

Claire was loving every moment spent inside the walls of the Murray household. The love of family seemed to spring out of the very woodwork of the happy home and Claire was so glad to know that Jamie had such a large and loving family to spend time with when he was so far from home. She liked Ian immediately, and was also pleased that Jamie had such an amiable best friend he could be himself around--and one who got to join his family to boot! The light-hearted and loving atmosphere gave her a warm feeling, like the kind she got watching cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies. She felt wistful that she had never really had such a sense of family in her life. She never really knew what she was missing, but now that she saw it for herself, it was something she desperately wanted for herself and she hoped the Murray’s wouldn’t mind taking her in as one of their own so she could enjoy this feeling again and again.

A short, dark haired woman with severe features and piercing eyes walked into the room, carrying a large roast which she placed in front of Ian to carve. Claire was surprised at how small Jenny was, she hadn’t noticed it as much when they were both seated at young Ian’s football game, and the way her voice bellowed through the house calling for her children, she had imagined her to be much larger. Her presence certainly commanded more space than her stature would imply. Jamie stood up as Jenny entered, “Jenny, you remember Claire, from young Ian’s football game, right?” He placed his hand on the small Claire’s back, proudly beaming as he presented the love of his life to his dear sister.

“Nice to see ya again Claire, glad my brother’s finally stopped hiding ya away in the garage.” she raised an eyebrow and Claire wasn’t sure what to make of the expression.

“Can I help you with anything?” Claire asked, she was nervous and desperately wanted to make a good impression on Jenny.

“Aye, why don’t ya come help me carry the sides in.” Claire caught Jamie’s eye, and he gave her silent reassurance that she’d be alright, and she followed Jenny into the kitchen.

“So yer the lass who spent naer every night this summer in my brother’s flat without so much as a word from him about ya.”

“It was--I--” Claire hesitated, wondering how best to explain herself.

Jenny, however, continued on, “It’s not any of my business what my brother decides to do, or who he decides to entertain; that’s his space and as long as he keeps his intimate relations out in the garage and away from my children I’m fine with it. I’m sure ya have yer reasons for hiding away, and I don’t ken enough about ya to ken if they’re honorable or not, but I do ken ya make my brathair happier than I’ve seen him in a long time, and I’m grateful for that.” Claire smiled in response to that, ready to respond that Jamie made her just as happy, if not more, but Jenny wasn’t finished. “I also ken something happened last month that makes me feel inclined not tae trust ya so much. He tried to hide it--well enough that the bairns didn’t notice, but I ken my brathair and he was a shell of a man for near on a month. It seems Jamie’s willing to forgive ya and I’m inclined ta do the same, but if ya ever hurt him again I won’t be so forgiving. I trust my brathair’s judgement and I wanna trust you as well Claire, but I’m afeard yer gonna have ta prove yerself.”

Claire paused a moment to make sure Jenny was done with her speech before responding. “Jenny, I swear to you, Jamie has my whole heart. I definitely made more than a few mistakes in our relationship but all they did was lead me to realize that Jamie and I truly belong together. We have something deep and strange between us that I can’t explain, it’s like we were destined to be together. I never really believed in a higher power before I met Jamie, but now I feel as though there must be something out there, because it’s like some unseen hand is drawing us together against all odds. Jenny I swear to you, I will never hurt your brother again, I’d only be hurting myself if I did. I’m all in, and I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but I hope in time, you’ll see the truth of my words.”

“Aye, I hope so too” Jenny gave Claire a compassionate smile and handed her a truly large bowl of mashed potatoes. “Here, you can carry these in for me, thanks fer yer help.”

“Thank you Jenny, I’m so glad Jamie has such a wonderful family who cares so much about him.”

“Och, ‘tis what family’s for. Now come on, let’s eat.”

End Note: Ok, I know the order of Jenny's children is all messed up, but young Ian had to play football and everyone is too young for the Murray kids to be all grown. It's fine, who can really keep them all straight anyway? Don't @ me.

[sparkles-and-trash]

My fav 3 versions/interpretations of South Park characters thing!

I’m so sorry this took much longer than anticipated, I was gonna do it Friday but then I had a panic attack for the first time in forever because my CFS have been real bad lately and I was in such bad shape my BFF had to come and smack me back to life, and Sunday was suddenly full on breakdown day, a bad BPD episode and yeah, it was rough, but today I’m doing better and I realize nobody really cares about my personal issues lol but I just have a need to excuse myself here and I realize that’s kinda dumb but here we are ANYWAYS I hope these are okay, and that these are in no way the RIGHT interpretations, just my personal favorites! 

Kyle:

suggested by the wonderful  @otherluces <3

#1 

I’m not gonna lie, I love nerdy, preppy Kyle. Sweater-vests, collard shirts, doesn’t realize how attractive he is Kyle, oblivious to people having crushes on him Kyle, set on Harvard to become a lawyer and fight for justice and argue for a living, yanno? 

#2 

I also really like the more dorky and nerdy Kyle, where he has really niché interests that he gets totally invested in and talks about 24/7, loves reading and studying, but not just to get good results, but because he genuinly enjoys it.

#3

The last version I can think of with him, is the tall, lanky and kinda hard to read Kyle. He keeps a lot of his feelings to himself, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them. He plays basketball, he’s good at it too, and while he does well in school and everyone expects him to go into law, he has some totally different dream he keeps to himself for now. He kinda perks up a bit when in smaller crowds, esp with his cloest friends, but he still carries a lot of secrets that some time needs to come out.

Tweek:

suggested by my new fren  @soft-craig-and-tweek ^^

I like Tweek in so many ways these were hard to pick, but I’mma try to narrow it down a bit and not go totally off haha

#1

I actually quite enjoy the jagged, tired Tweek, the one who with help from friends and family manage to get off the meth his parents feed him secretly, but who still struggle with withdrawal, dark bags under his eyes, kinda pale and with sharp features, but he’s still a sweet and kind boy, a boy who wants to make the right choices and change the world to a better place, but who still has a darkness he carries, and the fact that he never gives up that fight is what makes him so special 

#2

and okay I have to be honest, I do love myself some sunshine boy Tweek. This Tweek still has issues, he is maybe even more anxious than the last one, but he’s also just as vibrant and energetic as he is anxious! He is an artist, he paints with bright colors, he composes beautiful, hopeful melodies, he feels everything so much,  and he is a contagious and exciting person to be around. Cannot dress for the life of him. So much mis-match and odd outfits, but it kinda works? 

#3

The last one I’m gonna mention for this wonderful boy, is the more alternative Tweek. He writes obscure poetry, he watches too many conspiracy theory videos on youtube, he draws the monsters in his mind, and he writes the scariest, most hauntingly beautiful stories on the internet, and people online love him. He has no idea how to deal with being popular in that sense, because irl he is the type to not belong to a certain friend group, but he does go along well with most people on a surface level. Dark circles, shaky hands, crooked and cute smiles, baggy t-shirts and ripped jeans. When he first opens up to someone, he really, really does, and he will always support and be there for you. If you deserve it, that is. 

Nichole: 

also suggested by  @soft-craig-and-tweek <3 

#1

I love nerdy Nichole who isn’t afraid to show it! Maybe she’s a streamer or youtube gamer even, I can def see her writing fanfiction, and being hella good at it too! Makes quite a name for herself online, and hangs out with the boys a lot irl, has game nights with the boys from Board Girls (even Cartman sometimes), is funny in a sarcastic way, but never mean. 

#2

Popular girl Nichole is also a favorite for me, but not in the “classical” sense. I imagine her to be a sporty, maybe on both the basket and volleyball team, captain for the basket one, she’s a born leader, she’s kind and fair, but can also be strict, and people always trust her to be honest and true.  

#3

Artsy Nichole!! I imagine her in bright yellow dresses and with her hair flowing and free, with flowers in her hair, freckles on her face, a big, genuine smile, a loud laughter that is so contagious, she loves spending time with Jimmy because they have a very similar humor, and she’s a theater kid, she sings like an angel and can act, oh boy can she act, she can make anyone laugh or cry in just a blink of an eye, she’s just a human sun-ray and I love her a lot 

Butters: 

suggested by @kinguidamundo, thank you so much!! 

#1

I love edgy Butters soooo much??? Like, he’s still a kind and bright boy, but he can also stand up for himself a lot more, he likes fashion a lot, he gets tattoos and piercings, he explores tons of ways to express himself, he’s a yes-dude, he goes out on dates a lot, but isn’t ready for a “real” relationship yet, but he enjoys meeting people and testing out himself around different types of people! Also he is a bi icon change my mind jk u can’t 

#2

I have a weak spot for the kind of soft and timid looking Butters too, who wears pastel colors and have big, innocent eyes, he is genuine and kind, but he carries something darker inside, something he isn’t sure how to deal with, something that scares him, but in reality it’s just normal feelings, anger, resentment and fear, but he’s lived his life ignoring them so much they catch him off guard at times. He learns to live with them slowly, and he does so with lots of help and patience from friends and loved ones. 

#3

Okay, last one, totally self-indulging here, but yeah, happy sunflower boy is also a big favorite. He is more confident than the previous version, but in a gullible way if that makes any sense? He believes the best in people, and if he is proven wrong, he’s willing to try to help them become better people, if they want to or not! This is honestly the version I love most with Stan, Butters being the ray of sunshine in Stan’s life and Stan being the realism to keep Butters grounded and them both supporting each other so much? Fuck yeah that’s the good stuff. 

Clyde:

suggested by @horrorpumpkin, ty sm friend! <3 

#1

Himbo Clyde!!! Jock dude who genuinely loves sports, he’s a team player, and while he might not be super intellectual, he is very socially smart, he is kind and empathic, he is funny and likable, he always tries his best to make everyone feel included, and while he loves chicks a lot, and is a sexual dude, he does it with nothing but respect and admiration for the ladies! 

#2

Bisexual disaster Clydeeee <3 obv being bi isn’t a personality trait, but he is very open about it, he wants to be confident and good at flirting, but goddamn is he a MESS! He’s also a huge supporter of every single relationship his friends is in, he loves love, in all shapes and forms, he is emotional and kind and awkward in an endearing way. 

#3

Can’t leave out crybaby Clyde, can we now? He’s a bit of an awkward bean as well, but he owns it a bit more. He is kinda like a puppy, a cute, excitable and emotional puppy who loves his friends, video games and lazy movie nights, kinda chubby, he loves baking and does it a lot with Tweek, he is also a huge nerd for Harry Potter and totally geek out over it with Kyle and Nichole sdhlksgdhl

Kenny: 

suggested by anon! 

#1

First up I guess I should put my high school AU Kenny. I know it’s controversial, but I imagine this Kenny to be more on the quiet side, but not really in a shy way. He’s just a bit of an observer who doesn’t speak unless he really sees fit, and while he still has his crude humor and is kinda rumored to be sleeping around a lot, he actually struggle with intimacy issues. He never imagined them to include sexual stuff, but turns out they do, and balancing being sexually open and curious and having these issues ain’t easy on the boy, let me tell you that. 

#2

This one is kinda heavily inspired by Luces, but I love him as kind and loyal, but also a bit more chatty and charming, but not for his own gain. He wants others to feel good about themselves, in social settings, his friends, during sexy times, he is selfless and good, but he is also living for the moment, he is a likable and wonderful guy, but he does still only REALLY open up emotionally to people he really trusts. Not traditionally attractive, but interesting looking in a way. Lots of freckles, bit of buck teeth with a big gap between his front teeth, messy kinda curly hair, long straight nose. Always wears baggy hoodies and worn out jeans, shrugs and gives that lopsided smile when people ask him about anything personal.

#3

Mysterious Kennyyyy. You think you know him, everyone does, but in reality, very few have seen the real him. He likes people, and he likes to help them, he’s always down to listen to people’s problems and help them, he wants to inspire kids like himself to never give up and think there’s only one path for them, because he knows there is not. Volunteers at the animal shelter with Stan, works part time at Tweek Bro’s and is good buddies with Tweek. Had a early sexual debut, slept around a bit and got his heart broken unexpectedly when he was a Freshman, so there are some walls there now, but he ain’t usually one to turn down someone who’s up for it and whom with he has good chemistry either. 

[raleigh-ocean]

i’ll be good (for all the light I shut out) | ally mayfair-richards x danna bishop

words: 4,524

summary: Being the one supportive, the one fixing things, wasn’t something Ally knew how to do. But after three years she thought that maybe, finally, she managed to make a difference. And it all came by the hand of the woman she was trying to comfort.

After three years, sometimes Ally still got uneasy when there was too much silence in the house. 

It didn’t help at all that she got used in almost two years to have a loud house, Ozzy always filling it with his laughter and Danna helping him with her usual bubbly self. So that was part of why the moment she crossed the front door, taking off her coat and shoes, she felt wrong having that calmness hanging around. Even more since Danna had the day off, which meant more often than not that Ally could come home to a little revolution led by her son and their tiny dog against her partner.

Rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, Ally tried to check the first floor and the backyard in case Ozzy and Danna were there somewhere. As far as she knew, mostly through Danna’s texts, they didn’t do much in the day but the usual schedule. It was true that after lunch Danna went silent, but Ally just didn’t put much thought into it since she was busy at the restaurant first and then at the office. Also, once again, it was Danna’s day off and probably she was just relaxing if there wasn’t a revolution going on.

Ally scratched her cheek lightly when she didn’t see any of the other members of her family around the first floor, getting a bit worried. Not even Roberto came to welcome her home, which was as strange as not having Oz and Danna welcoming her. So her best bet was to try some luck upstairs.

Ozzy’s room was empty but Ally frowned a bit when she saw her bedroom’s door closed. Which mischief were they up to today? She thought while carefully opening the door of the bedroom to not startle them and probably caught them red handed.

But all she saw was the most tender picture ever.

Cuddled in bed, those three hurricanes she loved so dearly seemed to enjoy just being in the presence of each other. Oz had his headset on, video game controller tightly held in his hands while pressing the buttons as fast as he could, clad in his superhero onesie and his ginger curls held back by the headset; Danna was also clad in the parrot onesie she bought to match Ozzy’s, her arm around him as if she was hugging him protectively, but she was totally KO’d against the so many pillows they had and she had Bob inside the onesie, his tiny head showing through the collar, resting comfortably in her chest, and revealing he was as fast asleep as his owner.

She couldn’t help but capture the moment with her phone and get caught by her son a second later.

“Shh,” Ozzy was pretty careful doing the shush motion towards her and then motioned her to come forward. 

Ally tiptoed her way to her side of the bed, empty aside of the food tray that was there and carefully moved it to the floor to occupy the space. Ozzy leant a bit to get his daily kiss on the forehead, which Ally gave gladly before fixing her eyes to the screen to watch her son play. If she was being honest, she still wasn’t so sure about having a television in the room but that was probably the old Ally trying to come back, because the new Ally reminded her that it was actually a not so bad addition.

“What did you have for lunch?” Ally whispered to Ozzy, taking off slightly one side of the headset so he could hear her better.

“Danna made cuban sandwiches with...some kind of plantain thing, it was tasty, we ate in bed watching a show,” he said all of that without looking away from the television. “We were extra careful, I promise, we didn’t drop anything, not a crumb.”

Ally didn’t have many rules as of now, but Ozzy still had that tiny thing engraved in him that always made Ally feel a bit uneasy. Overall because in so little time she changed and grew out of many of her old habits. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, not the usual but okay,” she felt the need to reassure him and Ozzy smiled at her for a moment before going back to the game. “Homework?”

“Done,” Ozzy pointed at the little pile of books and notebooks over the nightstand.

“Okay, that’s impressive,” Ally raised her eyebrows at that, because lately he wasn’t a big fan of doing things immediately, and felt tempted to put her own hand over Danna’s, which was placed against Ozzy’s belly. “What got into you?” Ozzy shrugged and looked down a bit. “Oz?”

They’re attention was drawn by a tiny dog yawn, Bob waking up and wagging his tail still half asleep when he saw Ally. She approached her hand to give him some quick cuddle, gaining a lazy lick back before he dropped his head against Danna’s soft chest again, snuggling just like that.

Danna frowned in her sleep, rolling slightly towards Ozzy’s body, and kept sleeping undisturbed. For a second Ally smiled and decided to finally put her hand over Danna’s. Intertwining their fingers automatically, it didn’t wake Danna up but it made her hum in her sleep.

“Mom?” Ally hummed in response, not letting go of Danna’s hand but getting herself more comfortable against the pillows. “I think...she’s sad.”

Hearing Ozzy saying that made Ally look at him a bit perplexed. 

“How so?”

“She didn’t have music on when she picked me up at school,” Ozzy took off the headset and left it over his legs with the controller. “Not even when cooking. She asked me about school, that’s what you do, not her, and it was weird,” Ally wanted to tell him that everything seemed off the second he said that there wasn’t music. “But then she...I don’t know mom, Danna had red eyes and didn’t laugh with my joke.”

“That’s...a lot of things, baby,” it was pretty impressive that Ozzy managed to figure out all of that with a few hours of being together with Danna. “Did she say something weird?”

“She said she was tired,” Ozzy shrugged again and looked at Danna for a second before looking at his hands again. “You say when someone’s tired, it helps when someone else makes things easy for them,” Ally smiled at that, because he was a good kid. “So...I helped with food and told her to have a pajama afternoon,” Ozzy looked at their pajamas. “I asked her to help me with homework and then I showed her how to play my game,” then he looked at Ally and Danna’s joined hands pressed in his belly. “She fell asleep with Bob after one game.”

“I see.”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, mostly because Ally got into her head and she had much to think about. With Oz back in his game, she actually had the first break in all day and she decided to close her eyes as well.

This morning when she left Danna didn’t seem any different from another day. Well, since Dara’s incident it was true that her mood - all the cousins’ mood as a matter of fact - had changed a bit, but it was normal taking in count how close they all were. They were worried, of course, and Danna was the one being the furthest from them, which Ally thought would make worse the worry but Danna kept being her sunshine-ish self and probably Ally should have pressed her a bit more.

“Mom?”

It was lucky she kept her eyes closed, because she felt herself tear up a bit with the only thought of having Danna feeling bad in silence.

“Yes honey?” Ally stilled her voice with a long sigh.

“I don’t like seeing mama sad.”

Yeah, Ozzy was too good for this world. Since Valentine’s, Oz had slipped a few more times by addressing Danna as that and, to be completely honest, she liked how the word sounded when it went towards the other woman. She didn’t press Ozzy into anything, Danna neither, they only played it cool and, well, maybe someday he would actually be vocal about it.

“I don’t like it either,” Ally caressed Oz’s belly with her thumb absentmindedly. 

“Should we call titi and ask what we could do?” Ozzy liked Danielle and Ally found funny how fast he bonded with Danna’s twin sister since he only saw her a few times. Not even with Ally’s sisters was he that close.

“Let me think about something and if it doesn’t work, we call her, okay?” Ozzy was the one humming in response now and then he let out a pained groan when he lost the game, turning the console off and letting his head rest in his mother’s chest. “Another level you can’t pass?”

“Yeah…Dami should know how to,” he groaned again but didn’t move because being cuddled by his mom was the best thing on Earth. “I’m hungry again.”

“Well, it’s not a surprise, you ate around four and it’s almost nine,” Ally got surprised when she checked her wristwatch. “Okay, you go get showered and I’ll come up with something for dinner,” her eyes went to Danna. “Something we three like.”

“Pizza?” excitement filled Ozzy’s voice and Ally rolled her eyes. “It’s pizza, right?”

“It’s pizza as long as you go shower now.”

And just like that, Ozzy broke their linked hands and ran fast towards the bathroom. That made Bob to finally react, waking up with the highest energy an eight year-old chihuahua could gather and waking Danna up in the process, the tiny dog going after Oz without giving Ally a single bark. 

“And with the demigod gone, the Goddess herself finally showed up,” Danna yawned big and let herself fall onto Ally’s lap, hugging her like that with her eyes still closed. “Will I burn if you show me your real form?”

“How can you go all mighty speech right after waking up? A mystery to me,” Ally giggled and caressed Danna’s cheek with her fingertips. “Was the nap good?”

“Mhm,” Danna nodded lazily, nuzzling her nose against Ally’s belly and then she laid face up, so she could look at her better. “If I wasn’t starving, I would skip dinner and go on with it till tomorrow.”

“You missing pizza is very unlikely,” that made both laugh for a second and then they went silent, enjoying each other’s presence. Ally was sure that if she kept at it with the tiny caresses, she would lull Danna to sleep again. “Ozzy told me you were sad.”

“That’s not true,” Danna frowned, eyes closed again. “Would a sad person be dressed as a fluffy parrot? I think not.”

“Darianna,” Ally whispered Danna’s full name and she got her to open her eyes, no sleep in them. “He said you didn’t laugh at his joke and asked him about school which, in his words, it’s a thing that I do,” Danna got the guilt all over her face and rested both of her hands over her own chest. “And he said you had red eyes, so either a sandstorm got in your eyes or you were crying.”

“Sandstorms in Michigan are a very common thing,” Ally rolled her eyes at that and, like Danna used to do when she felt like annoying her, she pinched her nose until Danna swatted her hand away to get some air. “Okay, okay! Nani called this morning and maybe I cried for half an hour after hanging up, happy now?”

“Not really,” Danna sat up to Ally’s response and then leant back in the pillows, leaving both side by side in bed in silence again. Ally put her hand over the bed, facing up, as an offering to Danna, who was fast to take such a lovely offer. “I’m not really happy when the woman I love is hurting and she doesn’t tell me so I can do something about it.”

Ally watched Danna look at the ceiling for a few seconds and then to their hands, how she pulled off the hoodie with her free hand and then put it over her eyes. Ally could only squeeze her hand a bit upon seeing Danna’s tears leaking through her fingers, silent sobs making her body tremble.

Danna didn’t cry much, but it was heartbreaking every single time she did.

“They don’t know what to do to get her out of bed,” Danna’s voice was tiny and scared. “Lia and Nani say she’s catatonic or I don’t know. Nani called me to ask for one of our granny’s recipes, so maybe that could comfort her or get her better magically,” Ally brought their hands to her lap and used her free hand to cover them. “Billie is working from home to take care of her, Audrey is helping, Damien goes everyday after high school to spend time with her. Even Shelby has stayed with her!” Danna said that last point a bit furiously. “And all I can do is nothing, like always, just give my sister an old recipe in hopes for something that won’t happen any time soon.”

And then Danna started to cry harder, making Ally to get closer and bring her to her chest to let her hide there. 

Because it was what Danna needed and she knew it. To let go of all her inner turmoil and to be held, to be listened, not heard. Ally could listen to her as long as she wanted and needed, she could do that for sure, because the new Ally wanted to be better than the old one so fucking bad that if she had to sit for an hour listening, she will do it without a single doubt in mind.

“This is what I hate the most about my life and me,” Danna kept sobbing on Ally’s chest and she kept hugging her. “I’m not there when things happen, they can’t rely on me because I��m never there,” Ally closed her eyes a bit, because those things were pretty heavy statements. “My aunt died when Lia was eighteen, where was I? Arizona, couldn’t even attend the funeral and when I went to Sacramento after three months, Dahlia already moved to Seattle to attend uni,” Danna rubbed her eyes to stop the tears, but they didn’t stop coming. “When Nani gave birth to Damien, we were in this stupid nine year feud that made me miss all kind of things, and I should have been there...but where was I again? New York, getting yelled at while my twin sister was being cut in half like a turkey because my niece was coming way too early in Québec,” Ally reminded herself not to mention that terrible simile in the future and neither the information that was thrown at her. “And Dari...where do I fucking start? When she ran away to Los Angeles, we met because I was working there at the time and I bought that she was visiting a friend? When she got into a car accident and I was in Germany so I didn’t see her until way after New Year’s Eve?”

“Sweetheart, it’s impossible that you knew all of that was going to happen…” Ally brushed her hair with care, kissing the crown of her head. 

“But I should have known, because I’m the oldest and...they needed me, I wasn’t there, and the story repeats itself.”

Shocking revelation for a wrecked situation. 

Ally didn’t know what to say right away but kept giving Danna cuddles, trying to get her to slow down with the choking with her own tears. Danna talked really fast when she was upset, Ozzy showered really slow, so in between both things Ally felt that they had enough time to settle part of this giganormous conversation. 

“Why can’t I be there but they can?” Danna moved to rest her head on Ally's shoulder, which prompted her to leave a kiss in her forehead. “Lia took a train to Vancouver from Seattle to be with me during Christmas because I got sick that same year and didn’t leave me until she was sure I stopped from throwing up my insides out,” there was now fondness in Danna’s affected voice. “Dari picked me up when they kicked me out of the restaurant I was working in Los Angeles, we went to party together and ended up eating tacos at the beach with a punk band, and even after that she kept checking on me until my mentor called me and I moved to Chicago,” with that, Ally couldn’t help but write down somewhere in her head to ask about that again in the future, because the punk band part sounded fun at least. “And Nani...Damien was barely six months old when my stupid heart made stupid things and Nani strapped that badass baby girl to her chest, flew from Québec to Sacramento and didn’t leave my side for days,” there her voice went tinier and Ally felt her own heart squeezed against her ribcage. “You should have seen my ex-brother-in-law’s face when Nani said I was coming back home with them. Nani was the one that sat us down to talk, put the stupid feud behind, and started all over again.” Danna rubbed her eyes and looked at Ally, who was watching her with understanding eyes and soft smile. “How did they know when to stop their lives for a second to be there…?”

Ally didn’t know either the answer to that, mostly because she didn’t know them much to begin with, but leant in to press a kiss to her lips. Danna kissed her back like always, lingering both in the moment before Ally found the right words to say while trying to wipe away Danna’s tears with her sleeve.

“It’s a matter of context and situations, sweetheart. I’m pretty sure they actually didn’t know,” Ally took Danna’s face between her hands with love, tracing the soft flesh of her cheeks with her thumbs tenderly. “It's something that happens, and that’s it. We can wish to have been there, but what we do afterwards it’s what counts the most if we weren’t.”

Danna sniffed a bit but didn’t seem to have something to say back, only moving enough so she could hug Ally better. For Ally it felt like the tiniest win, one she hoped brought some peace of mind to her girlfriend. They shared the silence, Ally brushing Danna’s cheek with her thumb carefully so she could sense she was still there, actively listening if she had something else to get out of her chest.

“Sorry for being such a disaster.”

Ozzy showing up was the only thing that stopped Ally from going full bananas over that statement. Seeing Danna withdrawing into her shell and trying to chirp her way through the conversation with Ozzy about which pizza they were having was one of the most painful things Ally had witnessed. And she fell quiet for the rest of the night, trying to think about how to approach Danna about that again.

It wasn’t until they were back in the bedroom, Danna out of the onesie and with an actual pajama and Ally fresh out of the shower, that Ally acted on it. Difficult as it was, taking in count Danna was falling asleep once again thanks to the television, she took away the controller without much trouble and turned it off before moving under the blankets so she was straddling Danna effortlessly.

That woke the latina enough to move her hands towards Ally’s belly, her weak spot, right away.

"You should turn on the television if you wanna do that, bunny," Ally rolled her eyes a bit by Danna's nickname for her for the day. "Don't you think?"

"No, I need to be forward with you Darianna."

"Allyson, when you say my full name while on top of me like this, it's very confusing," Danna said, giving Ally a soft boop on her nose. "I'm scaroused."

"Well, maybe you should be," Ally joked as a way of warning her partner, leaning to kiss her slowly and having Danna's hands finding their way to her ass. "But that's not the thing tonight…" Ally sat up again, not being really heavy and placing her hands on top Danna's belly, playing with her shirt a bit. "...I don't like when you call yourself things. You're not a disaster, nor terrible, nor anything."

That made Danna move her hands to rest on Ally's covered thighs, avoiding the eye contact with her so she didn't have to face the truth somehow. That hurted Ally too much and her hand went naturally to Danna’s chin, lifting her face a bit so they could lock eyes.

“Because tell me, were you one when I broke my elbow and you drove me in half the time to the hospital? When you took care of everything around the house and the restaurant to get my part of the load off my back” Ally knew how stressed Danna could get in emergency situations, but she handled that pretty well. “And what about when Ozzy had to do that project for school last minute and you pulled the all-nighter, slept two hours and then went to work?” Ally found Danna’s hand and intertwined their fingers together. “Every time you looked after him? When he was sick with those fevers and he didn’t want to leave your side?” Ally saw how Danna sighed unsteadily, sign that she was about to cry again. “Or when we were down one or two in the restaurant and did everything they had to do yourself? When you cared and tried to find a solution when problems arose? When you try to teach everyone everything so they’re prepared just in case?” Danna’s lip quivered a bit and Ally pressed a kiss to let her know she was there. “I don’t see a disaster and that’s why I don’t like you saying those things, apologizing even. You’re not, you’re just someone that cares too much and has a lot going on in her life, and that’s it,” Another kiss and Ally’s hands went to cup Danna’s face with love. “And everyone loves you for that, I love you for that sunshine.”

“Okay, okay,” it was so sad hearing Danna talk with such a tiny voice, on the verge of tears, but she looked like she finally understood. “But I see why Oz doesn’t like when you scold him.”

“I wasn’t scolding you,” Ally laughed at that and that made Danna smile, a tiny cute smile for such a big woman. “I was just stating facts and trying to make you see what I see everyday.”

“I know…” Danna moved her hands behind Ally, just to rest them in her lower back. “Is just...I can’t help it sometimes, all these thoughts live rent free in my head,” she stretched her neck a bit and got more comfy. “And maybe I’m stressed and...I miss them Ally, I miss hugging them,” she mimicked what she said by pulling Ally down to hug her better, Ally falling without much trouble because she loved being held by her girlfriend. “I miss my family.”

With her chin resting on Danna’s chest, Ally stopped her train of thought for a second and her eyes went to her nightstand.

Was it maybe the right time to…?

It is, Allyson. Just fucking do it, come on, it’s been planned since February and it’s almost November!

Ally sometimes loved and hated her inner voice in equal parts, not gonna lie there. But today she was on the loving side she supposed, taking in count that she was listening to it since she came home hours ago.

Sneaking her arm out a bit, Ally managed to reach the drawer and blindly search for what she left there. Danna looked at her, asking silently what was she doing after pressing a kiss to her temple, but when Ally showed her the paper...well, she couldn’t help but tear up again.

“Let's go to Los Angeles then," Ally smiled at Danna, who was trying very hard to clean her own tears. "Do the reservation at the spa, let's stay with your sister for a few days, go visit your cousin and cook in person the recipe that may help her," Ally couldn't help but kiss Danna's chest, right where the neck of her shirt was letting her see the scary scar. "You need it, we need it, I bet Ozzy will be the happiest for skipping school for a few days."

"We'll have to talk with his teachers if we go more than the weekend…"

"Oh, you said that not me, I want it recorded," that made both laugh and Danna ended up moaning a bit because she was still crying. "Six days, we go pick up Oz on friday to school and by dinner time we would be there."

"What about the restaurant…? Your office…?"

"Office work I'll give an extra push to cover it up and I'll bring my laptop just in case," Ally was trying not to spiral on her own with all the stuff they'll have to arrange, and she was successful on it. "Restaurant, well, I trust in Beverly to replace me...and you have Ferdinand and Aathmika to handle the kitchen. We'll get everything in order so they don't have to worry about it."

"Ally...are you really sure we can do this right now…?"

Having Danna being the one thinking that hard in everything was a good change, a really good one, but Ally needed the spontaneous Danna right now.

"We can totally do it," she looked in her eyes while saying that. "As long as we are together, working like a team, I trust in us to get through it," it was difficult saying this, but she never felt that way with Ivy. "So...are you in Bishop?"

In that moment Ally didn't know that they'll work their asses off to get everything in place, that they'll arrive to a mess of a situation that - strangely enough - only Danna being physically there managed to fix, even getting Dara to eat and talk a bit more. She truly didn't know that, after fixing the mess, she would get to relax and to know better her sisters-in-law. Nor even that after she kept trying to organize her mind, right there on top of Danna, they'd have the softest sex they had in a while.

But she did know that this was the right thing to do, what they needed in order to keep going. Having Danna to agree was just the cherry on top and God that kissing away all her tears and almost all her worries lifted a heavy cape from Ally's shoulders.

She was indulging and growing out of her old ways, she was doing perfectly what her therapist and her were working towards. 

And helping the love of her life along the way was just plainly brutal.

[amlovelies]

what desire will make foolish people do

@wayhavenmonthly​ Fall for Unit Bravo

Day 5: game

pairing: Mason/f!oc Serena Willis (not a detective)

warnings: not technically smut, but super suggestive also smoking and foul language

words: 2779

read on ao3

A/N: this is part of my Au and takes place before the scene I posted for day 2: Liability. I’ve posted parts of this before as “excerpts from a fic I’ll never write” guess I’m a liar. This is all pulled from different parts of the story because I liked the way I could use them to fit the theme, so there are some slightly awkward bits where I edited it to make more sense. 

Round 1

               The cool spring air outside the warehouse helps to clear my head. The last few weeks have been hard, and as much as I think I am adjusting to my new life and role here, there are still days when it’s harder. Days when I miss home and feel so out of my depth it’s almost a joke. I lean back against the door and close my eyes taking deep breaths.

               “Are you planning on blocking the door all night?”

               My eyes snap open at the growled question. Great, Mason. Of all the members of Unit Bravo I’ve been unable to really connect or understand him. He’s made it clear he thinks I’m useless and I’m surprised he bothered to waste a whole sentence on me rather than just grunting. I watch him pull out his damn near ubiquitous pack of cigarettes.

               “Can I have one?” I ask almost surprising myself. I haven’t smoked in years, but maybe it’ll take the edge off.

               “Sorry,” Mason says as he pulls a cigarette from the half full pack in his hands, “I’m all out”

               “So you’re the only one who gets to use self-destructive behaviors to make them feel better?” I ask in what I hope isn’t a petulant tone.

               “Isn’t self-destructive if I’m immortal. Besides, I’ve got something I can give you that’ll make you feel much better than a smoke would.”

               I’m glad it’s getting too dark so I don’t have to see the smirk on his face. It’s too bad it doesn’t affect his vision because I’m sure he can see the blush that paints my cheeks even as I’m rolling my eyes at his much too obvious come on. I’d heard rumors about Mason’s “charms,” but this is the first time he’s ever tried to use them on me. No matter what I think of his personality, he is a dangerously handsome man and I hate how flustered the comment makes me feel even if his flirting has more in common with a battering ram.

               “Or I could just go to the store and pick up my own pack. Sounds a lot more satisfying.” I say as I push off the door and make to walk past Mason. I don’t actually want a smoke that bad, but I also don’t want to back down in front of him.

               “Fine, don’t say I never did anything for ya.” Mason scoffs and I yelp as I’m hit in the chest with the pack. I eagerly pull one out and pass the pack back to him. I’m a little skeptical about his sudden altruism, maybe he really is trying to get me into bed.

               “Where’s your lighter?” I ask.

               “Never asked for a lighter, Sweetheart, and it seems I’ve lost mine.” He says, voice smug and mocking. So much for my victory. “Maybe you should pat me down, see if you can find it.” He adds opening his arms wide to give me access.

               “I think I’ll pass.”

               “Your loss.” He replies as he leans against the wall.

               I sit for a moment tapping the cigarette against my leg trying to figure out how to regain the upper hand. Or maybe not even the upper hand so much as just to stay in the game. Because this is some sort of game to him, and the last thing I was going to do was let Mason win this round of whatever the hell this is.

               A hazy memory resurfaces of younger wilder nights, and I start speaking before I lose my nerve.

               “Don’t worry, Sunshine.” That gets his attention and a scowl replaces the smirk he’d had only a moment before. “I know how to take care of myself. It’s not the first time I’ve had to get creative to get what I want.” I say in what I hope is a low and teasing tone, but I worry sounds like I have a head cold. I close the space between us.

               I raise my cigarette to my lips and wait until he begins to pull another drag from his. “All I need is for you to stay still.”

               I move forward on my tiptoes until the unlit end is pressed firmly against the glowing ember of Mason’s cigarette. We are so close and alarm bells start ringing in my head. His presence envelopes me. My senses are overwhelmed by him. The scent of smoke and sandalwood is heady and enticing, especially combined with the heat I can feel pouring off his body. God he’s good looking. I have to remind myself to breath, to inhale or otherwise this won’t work and I’ll just be trapped under the intense gaze of his grey eyes.

               To my relief, it ignites and I’m able to move away from him. I put some space between us, and take a thankful drag from the cig hoping it will ease my now rattled nerves. It doesn’t, and to be honest I’m not sure why I used to enjoy this so much. I steal a glance over to where Mason stands with a wry smile, his eyes studying me. I’m not sure what he’s looking for.

               “Well thanks for the smoke.” I say with an attempt at a flippant tone. I don’t wait for a response; I turn on my heel and walk off toward the fence. I can hear the door open and I breath a sigh of relief to find myself alone once more.

 Round two

               I guess I earned some sort of respect in Mason’s eyes after the cigarette incident. Oh, sure it was mostly him making innuendos and propositioning me, but it was a hell of a lot more than the monosyllabic grunts that I was used to.

               I tried not to read to much into the flirting. That he wanted to sleep with me I didn’t doubt. I also had heard enough rumors, and been subtly warned by Nate, that I knew it wasn’t really personal. Mason wanted to sleep with everyone. Besides I found myself enjoying our little verbal sparring matches. Considering the fact that he kept doing it he didn’t seem to mind or maybe he just viewed me as a challenge.

               Mason manages to corner me in one of the warehouse’s many labyrinthine hallways. I had been avoiding him all day. The night before I had woken up from vivid dreams that definitely didn’t involve the incredible annoying vampire in front of me. As much as I try to play unaffected by his seduction attempts, I know it’s a lie, and my subconscious did not come to play last night.

               “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Sweetheart, but our bedrooms share a wall.” Mason leans forward closing the already small gap between us a wolfish smile on his face, “and my hearing is very good.”

               He pauses and I try not to be entranced by the sight of his tongue running over his top lip. I’m pretty sure I know where he is going with this and I wonder it is possible to die of embarrassment.

                “Not that there was much to hear last night. I’d be glad to show you how best to use your fingers,” he raises one hand to push his hair back drawing my attention to his well-shaped and surely dexterous hands.

               It takes all my self-control to hold his gaze and I’m secretly grateful for the solid wall pressed against my back. You could probably boil a pot of water with the heat pouring off my face. The thought that he had heard my clumsy fumbling last night is perhaps the most mortifying thing I could imagine. He probably couldn’t wait to use this against me. At least he doesn’t know I was thinking about him. After all everyone masturbates. The only part of this that is really getting to me it knowing that there is some part of me that wants to see exactly what those hands can do. Not the rational part obviously, but still I’d be foolish to continue to pretend it’s not there.

               At least he had waited for a moment when we were alone. I could only imagine the field day Farah would have with this, or maybe he was afraid of Nate’s disappointment. He looks so pleased with himself and I would give almost anything to wipe that smirk off his stupid handsome face. I have to think of something quick.

               “Listening at walls? Are you really getting that little action?” His smile drops and I know I’ve picked the right counterattack.

               “You know I don’t really think I should be the one you’re concerned with,” I smile and place a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Maybe Dinah can set you up on a bind date. I’m sure she knows some nice girl who is just frothing at the mouth to reform a bad boy and teach him the meaning of love” I gaze up with what I hope is an innocent expression.

               The angry growl that he response with is music to my ears. I try and keep the glee from my face, but as he stomps away, I can’t help but congratulate myself on another victory in what-ever-the-hell game it was that I somehow found myself playing with him.

 Round 3:

               “You suck at this.” Mason says as he once again knocks me on my ass. He isn’t even breaking a sweat while my gasping attempts to catch my breath seem to be echoing in the empty training room.

               I push away the hairs that are sticking to my sweat drenched face and give him a withering glare. He just laughs. How kind of him to make sure I want to hit him, not that I’ve managed to land one yet.

               “Always such a gentleman, Sunshine,” I say as I haul myself back to my feet. “Considering how charming you are it must be a miracle that I haven’t just fallen into bed with you yet.”

               He quirks a brow and gives me a look that I know well enough by now to know is trouble, “yet?”

               I inwardly curse my poor word choice or Freudian slip or whatever. Not that I’d found myself thinking about him late at night more and more, or appreciating the long lean lines of his body, or wondering if he actually had to skills to back up all his bravado.

               “Fuck off, Mason” I say as I roll my eyes and sink into a crouch ready to continue our sparring. It’s a petulant response, not at all keeping with the game we’ve been playing. A game which mostly consists of me trying to not let him unnerve me and find new and exciting ways to drag the very dangerous vampire who is has spent the last few hours kicking my ass.

               He circles me, his movements lazy and languid. When he moves it’s sudden and with a speed I can’t follow. Before I know what’s happening, he’s behind me, his breath ghosting over my neck, “I’d much rather fuck you.” He says with a laugh.

               Summoning ever bit of agility I possess, I turn and swing, but there’s nothing but empty air and his laughter. I overextend myself and have to stumble forward a few steps to avoid falling over. Once I’ve regained my balance, I flip him the bird.

               He just grins and lands a stinging hit to my right side. “Do you know what the problem is Sweetheart?”

               “Oh? Enlighten me.”

               He moves in a blur, and I find myself pressed up against him chest to chest. My arms are held secure behind my back. His face is only inches above mine, his well-shaped mouth curled in a taunting smirk. This close I can clearly see the freckles that dust his checks. He’s breathtaking, and I hope he attributed the rapid increase of my pulse to a fight or flight instinct of being trapped rather than his proximity.

               “Your body gives you away.” His voice is almost a whisper. A fierce blush erupts over my cheeks. Damn his stupid vampire super senses.  He’s so smug and enjoying this. I rack my brain for a way to turn this around, but it’s hard to think clearly when I can feel the lean lines of his body pressed against me, and I can’t help but wonder how far those freckles extend over his body. I have to act quick, maybe I can distract him.

               I tilt my head up to meet his gaze and moisten my lips. His eyes dart towards the action and I press forward against him. I’m playing with fire. This is a stupid idea, but that has never stopped me before.

               “What exactly is my body telling you now?” I ask my voice breathy, low, and inviting. Before he can answer I close the space between us and press my lips against his. I try not to think about the feel of his lips against mine.

               His hands on my arms loosen in surprise. I know that it’s now or never, but I hesitate. No small part of me what’s to stay in this moment surrounded and overwhelmed by him. But that would mean he wins. So, I pull my arm back and strike a weak jab to his right side. He moves back from me with a grunt

               . “Not afraid to fight dirty. Maybe there’s hope for you yet. “He says with a nod before turning and leaving me standing along in the center of the training room.

               I know I should be savoring my victory, but all I can taste is Mason on my lips.

  Match

               It’s a little after midnight and I’m standing in front of Mason’s door. I’ve spent the last few hours tossing and turning in a vain attempt to sleep. I keep replaying what happened in the training room: the feel of his body against mine, the brief taste of his lips, the feel of his breath ghosting over my neck. All these months of trading innuendos and hot tense moments seem to have come to a head and I feel consumed by wanting. It was a line I shouldn’t have crossed, even if it did let me land a punch, but now that I have, I feel like I’m falling towards the inevitable conclusion. And would it really be the worst thing? It’s been so long since I’ve been intimate with someone. Maybe it’s better to do it this way knowing that it’s just fun?                

               So now I’m standing in front of his door daring myself to knock. I mean he’ll probably be insufferable after this, but at least I’ll get laid? We both want this. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.

               In the end, he saves me from having to knock. I jump a little, startled out of my deliberations, when the door swings open. His shirt is off and my eyes trace over his form. Freckles dot his skin and a patch of hair curls over his well-defined chest. Fuck he’s hot.

               “Is it yet already?” He asks with a smirk his eyes tracking over my body. I’d only thrown on my bathrobe before following my libido to his door.

               I take a deep breath and swallow the snarky comment I want to make. “Guess it is,” I say as I push past him into the darkened room.

               He closes the door and turns to face me.

               “You sure about this?” he asks taking a step closer to me.

               I step closer as well only a foot or two separate us. If I wanted to, I could reach out and run my fingers over his chest tracing the line of dark hair to where it disappears under his skinny jeans. And god knows I want to.

                “I am. Are you? You’ve talked a big game. Afraid you won’t perform to expectations?” I ask with a smirk.

               His laugh is dark and low and confident and turns something within me molten. He closes the space between us, pulling my body flush against his. I’m intensely aware of the thin fabric of my robe as the only barrier between us.

               “Not even remotely.” His voice is velvet and sends a shiver through me.

               Then his lips are on mine and all I can sense is Mason: the smooth skin of his back under my hands, the wicked glint in his grey eyes, the heady scent of him-sandalwood and smoke, the taste of him on my lips, and the way he growls as nips his way down my exposed neck. He walks us backwards toward his bed and I know I am lost.

tagging: @morgans-ass-freckles @specialistagent-morgan @bionicgrapejuice and @agentnatesewell

[black-streak]

Saturday night's alright for fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - Playing Favorites

Part 7

This one is actually quite short in comparison, more of a snippet than anything, but absolutely necessary as far as I'm concerned! No fluff, just my brand of humor here.

Tags! They're here! @poshplumcot, @emjrabbitwolf . @mystery-5-5 . @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry . @fandomkitty8. @dast218. @silvergold-swirl. @shizukiryuu. @my-name-is-michell. @kurogaya913. @littleblue5mcdork

~---~

It had been about five days since her date and Marinette was downright exhausted. She'd managed to acquire maybe 9 collective hours of sleep since then, rest not coming the same when alone. 

Rolling up on the manor at the end of Friday, her self determined work hours over, she picked her way into the kitchen, placing a drawing tablet and headphones down on the counter before heading to make some tea. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Alfred entering from the side entrance. Waving, she finished pouring the kettle.

"Evening Alfred. Would you like some? It's a lovely chai rooibos."

"Caffeine-free this evening, Miss Marinette?"

"Haven't slept the best these last few days. Trying to force the matter."

A small curve to the end of his lips hinted to his amusement. The edges only quirked upon taking in her appearance.

"Perhaps for the best. None for me tonight, thank you."

With that, he left as quietly as he came. Curiosity gnawed at the edge of her consciousness, but she shoved it aside in favor of adding a teaspoon of honey and falling into her claimed seat. Headphones on, tea ready, and tablet before her, she lost herself to the drawing process.

…

".... Dick. Am I seeing this right?"

Both boys were stopped in the doorway, taking in the figure at the kitchen counter, a very distinctive hoodie wrapped about her.

Dick shook away the shock and threw a shrug to Jason before approaching. Tapping the counter by her hand to garner her attention, he waited for Mari to remove the headphones before asking, tone carefully flippant.

"Hey Sunshine. Where'd you get the hoodie?"

Looking down, she took note of the black hoodie, cuffs and inside of the hood lined red with a golden Red Robin emblem on the chest. Biting down on a giggle and turning a completely faux innocent look up to the brothers, she tilted her head, adding to the overall effect.

"Oh, I made it. You like it? I can make you one."

"Nah, that's alright pixie-pop, just thought we'd seen every hero hoodie there was is all. You make one for all the heroes then?" Jason jumped in, refusing to even consider wearing Tim's merch.

"No, just this one."

Pouting, Dick couldn't help but hop back in, "Why not?"

Shrugging, she leaned back and stretched, "First one I got inspired by. He strikes me as a hoodie type of guy and I love a good, warm hoodie. I'm sure I'll think of something to base on the others eventually."

"You should make a leather jacket based off Red Hood. Sure he'd get a kick of seeing someone tiny like you representing him," Jay intoned, moving to lean his back against the counter beside her, grinning at his own idea.

"Hn, nope. Too overdone. Everyone thinks of a jacket for Hood. That's just lazy," she shot down, noticing his grin slip into a frustrated twist of the lips as she sent him back to the proverbial drawing board.

"Oh! How about a dress for Nightwing? It could be like a black skater dress with the emblem?"

"I wouldn't wear that though. And it's not like I'm being commissioned for any hero themed works at the moment."

And there went Dick's idea. Suddenly, both boys perked up, meeting eyes over her head.

"What about Robin? Got any ideas for him?"

"And look like a walking traffic light? Not in this lifetime," she snarled, Damian appearing at the door moments later as though summoned by her words.

"You hear that, kid? She doesn't like Robin's getup," Jason caught him up, shit eating grin sprawling across his face, "Our little pixie pop prefers Red Robin instead."

Damian glanced down at the catalyst of the conversation before meeting the amused eyes of the wearer.

"What do you have against Robin?"

"Oh nothing, I just imagine it gets very confusing for drivers when they see him at an intersection."

"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for the color choice," he growled out.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"... Tradition," Damian murmured, side-eyeing Dick where he was stifling laughter.

"Ha! Tradition is why women weren't truly allowed to wear pants until the 50s! And both are similarly ridiculous!"

At this point, both older boys had lost it.

"What makes Red Robin's costume so much better than? It's the same color scheme!"

"You're right. Except for one minor detail. No green. And the gold is a more molten color and used as a detail. Making the suit primarily red and black. Perfectly respectable."

Glaring across the counter, hands braced on the edge, Damian leaned in.

"And what would you suggest Robin do without looking like a copy of Red?"

"Easy. Get rid of the red entirely. Deep green with gold detailing. I'd say silver to truly be the antithesis to Red Robin, but silver doesn't really work with what I can see of the skin tone."

A narrowing of eyes was her only response.

"Which reminds me, why do you care so much? You got a crush on Robin there, Dami?"

"I was wrong, you aren't an angel."

"Awww, you do, don't you! I would try to set you up, but really, even I don't have those types of connections. Sorry, I suppose you'll have to settle for someone normal."

"I'm not the one claiming a favorite by walking around with their emblem on my chest."

"Dami, are you jealous?" She started to ask only to be cut off.

"Woah, woah, no one said anything about favorites! Obviously she chose to make this first so she could laze around in it," Dick piped up, trying to ease the fight before it could truly start up in earnest.

"Which leads to the question," Jason leaned down into her space, "Tell us true, sweetheart, who's your favorite Gotham hero?"

Taking in each of their tense forms and eager expressions hidden by mostly innocent curiosity, she made up her mind. Leaning in, she met each set of eyes before dropping the metaphorical bomb.

"Spoiler."

Leaning back in her chair, she sipped at her tea, watching the fallout as it crashed around her.