#but there are some��� implications there about being too loose lipped with the truth in leading up to the end of and immediately post

[blluespirit]

I sort of like the thought that Zuko and Aang take the Sun Warriors' warning not to tell anyone about the dragons a little more seriously… and they keep it between them. Of course, they trust Sokka, Toph and Katara. Of course they know they wouldn’t tell anyone, but now three people (including Iroh) know the truth about Ran and Shaw. And that’s three too many when you’re trying to keep a secret.

(and there are other people at the temple as well - like Haru, Teo and The Duke - who, while trustworthy, aren’t as close to them as the others, and when it comes to secrets with as much consequence as this one, you can’t afford to take any chances.)

Furthermore, the culture within the Fire Nation since Sozin’s rein has been warped. The culture is not to respect the dragons as the original firebenders, it’s to conquer and kill them. It’s the ultimate proof of your strength as a firebender. All it takes is one mistake before rumour spreads, and people go looking for the ultimate hunt. It’s not something Zuko or Aang can risk.

Whether Katara, Toph and Sokka (and Suki) ever find out the truth is up to you. But post-war, after Zuko returns from a strange, poorly explained trip with a dragon, and eventually develops the ability to use rainbow fire, either the others have some questions about Aang’s knowing look, or they are finally let in on a monumental secret.

[suntoru]

✧˖°. PRINCESS TREATMENT ONLY!

summary: genshin men being huge simps and spoiling u every chance they get <3

feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scary mooch, xiao, thoma, ayatoe, al-haitham, kaveh

a/n: i swear i was working on the masterlist but the brainrot finally got to me hnghhhh

warnings: gn but feminine implications (ie. princess treatment, reader wears heels and makeup, passenger princess), simping for reader, maybe ooc? swearing, fluff, some are modern aus, maybe innuendos?

─ ✰ DILUC is the gentleman we all deserve in our lives. if it’s raining outside, he’ll make sure to protect you from the wetness! he makes sure you’re fully bundled up in his coat, and that when he’s walking you home, the umbrella is fully covering you. oh, his shoulder’s getting wet? that’s fine, a little bit of water never hurt anyone. but if it happens to you? all hell breaks loose. what if you get sick from the rain? are you feeling alright? do you need medicine? a doctor? and if you’re in a modern au, he’ll definitely let you be the passenger princess 🥰 you can take naps, eat snacks, and pick all the songs! you don’t ever have to worry about giving him directions, you can just do whatever you want. he even installs led lights in his car so you can take asthetic pictures <3 if you’re tired, don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine alone, take your beauty sleep :) he drives you anywhere you want, no questions asked! you want to go to his mansion? you’ll be there in ten. grocery store? sure. nail salon? he’ll even accompany you to get your nails done just so you won’t be alone, pays for everything too!

─ ✰ KAEYA is absolutely whipped for you. to most people, he’s the town flirt, and a drunkard, but to you, he’s the most caring and softest person you’ve ever met, even if it’s hidden under layers of hurt. if you go out drinking with him, and come back drunk, he’ll carry you bridal style back home. pressing your body closer to his, he makes sure to prop your head so your neck won’t get sore. and if you wear makeup, he won’t put in the low effort to wipe your face with a makeup wipe, he’ll do your whole skincare routine for you! first, he uses makeup remover to take everything off, then, gently, he massages the cleanser into your skin and washes it off. he applies your creams and serums, making sure to be as tender as possible, even if you whine that all you want to do is go to sleep. he soothes you, whispering that all he needs is ten more minutes to brush your teeth and get you changed so you’ll feel clean in the morning. and for the hangover in the morning? he makes you special soup and showers you himself so you don’t even have to lift a finger.

─ ✰ CHILDE loves spoiling you whenever he gets the chance to. other people might think it’s just another sugar baby dynamic, but in truth, it’s far from it. it’s a selfless love, not just based on materialistic items. but even then, he’s willing to sacrifice his time and money for you. you’re his baby and his top priority always, no matter what. are you hungry? well, get ready, because he just booked a reservation at the highest star restaurant in town! you’re having a bad day? no problem, he’ll send one of the lower ranking fatui members to do the dirty work and he’s coming home early! he’ll bring home a large bouquet of flowers and a cute stuffie to match. you need new clothes? he’s driving you to all your favourite stores on his card <3 his wallet is practically bottomless, so don’t be afraid to spend what you want! a couple thousand mora is nothing to him if he can see your frowning pout turn into the pretty smile he loves so much. he even carries all your bags for you without asking! he can’t have his darling getting tired after all :(( just as long as after you give him a smooch on the lips and an hour of cuddles, the only payment he’ll accept (´∀｀)♡

─ ✰ KAZUHA, even after years of being in a relationship, still finds ways to give you butterflies in your stomach. when you come back into your quiet home after a long night, too exhausted to take care of yourself, he leads you to a chair and sits you down. he ever so delicately unlaces your heels for you, taking his time doing so, but don’t worry! you won’t ever be bored. if the silence is too much, he’ll ask you how your day was, talk about his, and spill all the tea that happened on the crux. and if your feet are tender, he’ll massage them gently so they won’t be sore in the morning :(( he’s putting the utmost care and effort into whatever he’s doing for you, and that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. he still opens doors for you, dedicates hundreds, if not thousand of poems and haikus to you, and never fails to make you feel loved. he’d never forget an important date, even if you don’t mention it for months before! he always asks for your hand, and when you place it in his with a knowing smile, he gives you a fairytale-like kiss on the top, making sure to peck every little fingertip in the process.

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE never thought he’d bow down to anyone again in his lifetime. he’s trained every little bit of himself to be the most powerful, the strongest being he could so he’d never have to go through that humiliation. but yet here he is, tucking away his ego and pride, bending down on the ground for you. yes, he may grumble, telling you to hurry up, and that he doesn’t have all day, but the fact that he’s basically submitting to you speaks for itself. you taught him what love meant, healing, and promised that you’d never leave him, and for that, you have his eternal loyalty. as you climb on his back, he gently hooks your legs against his arms as he stabilizes both of you. the proximity of your face resting against his neck causes him to go up in flames, throwing his oversized hat on your head, telling you to hold on to it for him. but really he’s hoping the large structure obstructs his rosy cheeks. he does every little ‘embarrassing’ thing for you, from painting his nails barbie pink to being shrek for your matching halloween costumes. if his younger self were to look back at him, he simply wouldn’t believe it, but now, he wouldn’t even consider the possibility of even saying no to you.

─ ✰ XIAO never, ever, takes you adventuring with him, simply because he believes someone as precious as you shouldn’t risk getting hurt and scuffed up. so instead, he brings you little gifts that he sees while adventuring. a glaze lily, protective adepti charms, and almond tofu are all gifts that he’s brought to you before. he’s also much softer with you, never raising his voice and being cautious about his choice of words. if you ever get caught in a physical situation with him, automatically he moves to stand in front of you, one arm protectively circling your waist, pulling you closer to him. being xiao’s s/o, you also get special privileges. while he answers most who call his name, if you even utter his in a whisper, he’ll be there in a heartbeat, no matter if it’s an emergency or not. whether you called him to join your tea party, or if you are in the slightest bit of danger, he’ll be there. he also trusts you more than his logic, even if everyone else is against you. if you’re in a scuffle with other humans, he makes sure to hear both sides, but his heart already knows who’s right. whether there are 100 witnesses who all say you’re wrong, he’ll still believe you anyways.

─ ✰ THOMA is absolute malewife material, no questions asked. sometimes, if he’s not busy in the mornings, he’ll surprise you with breakfast in bed without a special occasion. he’ll peck your cheek and give you a soft ‘good morning’ as to not break the sleepy trance you’re in, carefully placing the tray onto the nearest nightstand. whenever he’s around, he does all your chores too, from washing the dishes, to dusting the house and sweeping the floors. you wom’t even have to lift a finger, he goes as far to make lunch too! since he’s not home by then, usually somewhere in the kamisato estate, he leaves handwritten sticky notes on each lunch box he gives you. he fills them with messages like, “the perfume you wore smells good today!” “your smile is blinding, my ray of sunshine” or “you’re gorgeous always, my lovely.” never once is a message repeated, he believes someone as special as you deserves to hear something unique each day. he even goes as far to make your food cute! he’s made panda shaped onigiri’s, cat-like dango’s… all because you asked him once, it’s become a tradition now.

─ ✰ AYATO never leaves you bored when he goes to one of his meetings. his maids set up a spa day, complete with a makeover and evening gown to go with it, but it’s just not the same without your husband :( thankfully, being the significant other of the head of the yashiro commission has its own perks. for instance, you can walk around like you own the place and join in on in his meetings, albeit later you might get punished by ayato for interrupting, but really, he doesn’t mind. seated on his lap, you play with his fingers and let out a quiet huff. why did you think this was a good idea again? what they’re talking about is so boring, you’re beginning to regret your desicion to join ayato, wishing to be soaking in the tub with a face mask again. thankfully, shortly after, he cuts the conference short, apologizing and telling them he has more pressing matters to attend to. you lead him straight home holding his hand, giddy that he’ll join another one of your salon days. he makes sure to pamper you, giving you a massage and washing your hair for you, praising you for being so patient, even if you were the reason the meeting ended early.

─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM, i headcanon, thinks he’s being subtle with putting up with your shenanigans, but he couldn’t be farther off. he might seem indifferent on the outside, but he cares much more than you might think. can’t sleep? just wake him up at 3am, he’ll wrap you in a blanket burrito and read to you until you fall asleep! just got your nails done? he’ll carry all of your books, what else would he need his giant man boobs muscles for? he revolves around you, as if you are the sun and he the earth. and god forbid if you’re ever mad at him, his whole life comes tumbling down. although if you can’t see it in his facial expression, all of his rationality goes flying out the window. he’s snappier than usual, getting annoyed at the littlest of inconveniences. even if you’re in the wrong, he’ll still apologize first, he just wants you to start talking to him again 😢 if you have conditions to making up, he follows them all to the tee. give you one kiss for every hour he’s made you upset? done. buy you the newest line of makeup or skincare? absolutely. cook dinner for the next two weeks? he already does that.

─ ✰ KAVEH is placed 1st on the list of simps. just pout your lips and whimper a “pretty please?”, he’s down bad. he lets you braid, curl, and play with his hair whenever you want, even if it was already styled in the beginning. he lets you steal all of his clothes, who cares if he’s worn the same thing five times in the past week? you look so adorable in his white shirt, he can’t complain. oh, and if you don’t like his style? he’ll let you pick out his clothes and style him yourself, he’ll stand there patiently for you like a mannequin <3 technically it’s not allowed, but he shows you all of his top secret projects and all the cool things he’s doing, you’re the only one allowed in his office! oh, what’s this? you want him to do your makeup? just give him a week, he’ll perfect cat eyeliner, lip liner and blending eyeshadow colors for you! after you’re done, he lets you do his makeup too, praising you for your talent. even if the blush is patchy, foundation cakey and lip gloss smudged, he still thanks you endlessly with unlimited cuddles and a new handbag matching his briefcase!

©hawkssimpsblog 2023.

[bugcatcherwill]

Rage Against the Calamity - Chapter 58: Hylian and Rito Hospitality

Bokoblins, Moblins, Lizalfos, and Wizzrobe. One of each has managed to break free from the Malice that binds them. With their tie to Ganon gone, these monsters must fight to survive in a world where everything wants them dead. Yet, things are not always what they seem. For as unforgiving a land as Hyrule, it will continue to surprise even the most hopeless hearts. This is the story of those four monsters, and all their unlikely allies…

Also on AO3

It was a few hours into the afternoon and all of Akkala Stable was in a ruckus. Rudi's loose lips had keyed everyone in on the Lab's little secret before they planned on breaking the news, and the stable's reaction was exactly what Hoz had been trying to avoid. The residents and travelers alike yammered on and on about the situation, the implications, and most importantly, what to do. Hoz's pencil-thin mustache twitched in aggravation as the mini-crowd refused to settle down. Desperately he tried to gain control.

"My fellow Hylians, can we please simmer down?" he said, getting completely ignored. He removed the steel soldier's helmet on his head, a relic of the past that was still in pristine condition, and clanged against it with his fist several times.

"Again, can we please have some quiet to discuss this?"

A few members of the crowd softened up, but the loudest ones only raised their voice - too enraptured by their own conversation to notice.

"HEY!!!" Rudi, the stablehand next to him, shouted as loud as he possibly could. That inflection was only used when he really needed to get control of the horses, but it worked on Hylians well enough too. The entire stable turned white-eye, even those that had stopped talking long ago, and brought their attention to Hoz and Rudi standing atop chairs.

"Now then," Hoz said, pinching his dark brown goatee, "let's try our best to come to a consensus civilly and quietly. Of course, we wouldn't have to shout if Rudi kept his damn mouth shut until now, but I digress."

The grizzled dirty-blond Hylian twirled one of his hair tassels bashfully. He couldn't help but blab, with his whole job involving shooting the breeze with the entire stable. Still, looking at the panicked faces below him, he felt quite a bit of regret.

"Since no doubt everyone has a different account of what happened in their head, despite only us two even being there, I'm going to clear the air and tell you all exactly what I saw. Alright?"

Hoz was already preparing for the worst. When you have the job of the only "soldier" in that region, a lot of your dealings with the public involve wild goose chases and petty squabbles where nobody could get their story straight. Weakly, several faces in the crowd silently nodded, letting him finally speak his mind.

"Good. Okay, this all happened during my morning patrol. I heard a commotion at the Lab up the hill, and I found Robbie and a few Sheikah trying to wrangle an Eldin Ostrich around. You all know Robbie, right?"

Those that lived around the stable and the regular merchants all let out a round of staggered 'Yea…'s, having seen the man come down for food and supplies numerous times. Although most interestingly, his grocery list had amplified nearly tenfold in recent weeks.

"I also, however, saw an assortment of monsters run out of the Lab, too. But the shocking part was their demeanor. None of them acted like usual monsters, and they seemed to help the Sheikahs wrangle the bird, yelling words of their own, though I couldn't hear what they were saying. I saw a Lizalfos, a Blue Moblin, and two Wizzrobe amongst them. Once they managed to get ahold of the ostrich, they all grouped together and walked to the back. That was the last I saw of them today. Rudi can vouch for me because he saw most of it, too…"

Eyes turned to the stablehand and he nodded confidently, his bushy handlebar mustache covering his slight frown. Hoz continued.

"To tell you the truth, it was actually…pretty funny to witness. Never seen a Moblin panic like that before, heh," he said to a very tepid crowd, forcing him to awkwardly clear his throat, "But as you can see, there's been no monster attack on the stable, or anything of the sort. There were no burnt crops, poisoned wells, or mind-controlled Hylians. I'm sure we would have noticed some of the outlandish things I've heard this morning, and I'd like to remind you all that rumors are dangerous. They can very easily lead to unneeded panic and mass hysteria, which is why I try to do my job as best as I can - to prevent these misunderstandings."

A few members of the crowd tugged at the collars of their shirts - embarrassed that they did exactly that.

"But that still leaves the unanswered question of why we saw non-hostile monsters seemingly living with Robbie and whatever other Sheikah were up there. I'm sure if I just paid him a visit, we could get an answer straight from the horse's mouth."

Like steam erupting from a kettle the entire crowd exploded with negative rebuttals - nearly screaming at Hoz to let him know their opinion on his idea. The soldier recoiled back holding his open palms out while fists were raised in objection.

"What are you, crazy?!"

"You got a death wish, Hoz?"

"No! Don't go up there!"

Hoz finally raised his voice loud enough to carry over the rest.

"Whoa, whoa, HEY!" he shouted, Rudi nodding with a stuck-out lower lip showing even he was impressed with that one, "Now I've known Robbie ever since I got stationed here! He's been nothing but kind to all of us and even solved a few of our problems. It's hard to believe he'd be up to anything malicious after all he's done to keep this stable safe…"

He deliberately left out the fact that Robbie had recently used the de-aging rune on himself, knowing it'd only seed more panic and crackpot theories. Rudi gave Hoz a side-eye, knowing the Sheikah man's secret too, but let it slide for now. That still did little to temper the growing mob. Many voiced objections, with one in particular patiently raising their hand to have the floor.

"Didn't you hear about what happened at Hateno? You used to live there didn't you, Hoz? It was all because of the Sheikah Lab there, and they were hiding monsters, too! The woman responsible and the monsters were never found in the wreckage, either! It must be the same group, and the same might happen to us!"

More jeers were hurled that made Hoz wince painfully. He just knew this would come up if he had this meeting.

"I've heard the stories, yes. It's nearly impossible to get anywhere in Hyrule without hearing it," he said, crossing his arms and desperately trying to maintain the voice of reason, "But remember what I just said about rumors? Or do you think they did exactly what we're doing now? Riling ourselves up over nothing but assumptions!"

He was met with immediate anger, an unknown patron going so far to hurl a crumpled up piece of paper at Hoz - bouncing harmlessly on his head.

"You're calling children almost getting eaten an assumption?!"

This was already spiraling out of control. Fists balled with exasperation, Hoz stomped his leather boot on the chair and nearly cracked it. Just enough silence broke for him to speak.

"Remember the Fang and Bone incident? The whole reason I came up to Akkala? Eeeeveryone was coming to me terrified of some evil dark-magic wizard that was selling severed monster heads and trying to kidnap children in the night! And because of all that I almost cut down some weird eccentric, but ultimately harmless, Hylian in cold blood! What an awkward apology that was, right?! And I feel like the only one still feeling guilty about it! Sound familiar to you?"

For the briefest of moments, the mob felt a modicum of shame. The near-trance they were snapped out of forced them to look at each other's panicked ghost-white faces and actually think about the logical next steps. Thankfully for them, a stray voice was not so easily swayed by reason and enabled them to throw the blinders on their brains once again.

"But this time it's an actual monster! Scratch that, monsters! More than one! We have to do something!"

The steaming kettle whistled again, the crowd now all yelling their various ideas - none of them particularly pleasant. Hoz threw his fists downwards and glared into each and every face he could see.

"Well I'm not giving any of you the key to the munitions shack until I see some proof that we should resort to that!" he shouted so forcefully his helmet went askew, squinting his eyes nearly shut and pointing his finger so fiercely it could poke an eye out, "And the key isn't even on me - it's hidden well. So good luck with…whatever you plan to do unless you convince me those monsters I saw are an actual threat! I was sent here to keep you all safe, and that includes stopping you from yourselves!"

The bloodlust in the Hylians' eyes finally relinquished, if only for a moment. While they were an angry mob, they were an angry mob confined by the superficial barrier of politeness. They could, for all intents and purposes, simply bust down the walls of the shack and grab whatever torches, swords, and bows were stocked there. But that would go against their idea of law - regardless of whatever they were going to do with them immediately afterwards that directly broke said law. Almost acting like a representative, a lone Hylian separated from the sea of the crowd. He was one of the permanent residents of the Akkala Stable that went by the name Khini.

"Well you can twiddle your thumbs and wait for something bad to happen! We will find the evidence ourselves to ensure our children can sleep safely each night!" he said with a huff, practically dismissing the crowd by himself.

Some Hylians dispersed entirely, realizing they still had their daily work and schedules to keep track of. A decently sized portion stayed, however, following Khini almost like how ducklings follow their mother. Exhausted bags under his eyes, looking as though he missed several nights of sleep, Hoz turned to Rudi who just morbidly chuckled in response.

"Now do you see what I put up with on a daily basis before you got here?" the stablehand said.

The soldier rolled his eyes, getting a sudden desire to reach for his flask normally reserved for nightly fun and take a long swig.

"I don't know why you didn't side with them considering how you reacted this morning," he said disdainfully. Rudi scoffed and readjusted Hoz's helmet with a petty flick of the finger.

"Tch. I'd sooner try to keep a Lynel in the stables. Besides, now that I've had time to think, all of this seems…off. I've seen monsters. Too many monsters. Those monsters I saw…they were monsters, all right, but they weren't monsters. I would like to know what really went down at Hateno."

Hoz wearily sat down in his chair and pouted, his thin mustache shifting to the left and to the right.

"You could come up with me and ask them, like my original suggestion."

"Do you think they will let us get further than ten steps?" Rudi said, motioning to the rowdy circle of Hylians plotting around a nearby table.

"Grrgh…fair point."

…

While Teba properly led Kobb up and down the village, the Bokoblin nearly gave itself whiplash from spinning its head around. It hadn't gotten the chance to admire the scenery when it was led around bound by rope, but now that Kobb could go as it pleased its hands spent a good amount of time gripping the wooden railings as it gazed across the lake and every which way between. Its large snout vibrated in content with every breath, desperate to keep that fresh breezy pine smell. Many of the other Rito denizens found Kobb pleasantly endearing, often laughing or smiling at its reactions. It'd been quite some time since there was a new visitor to the Village, let alone a special case like Kobb - and it was always entertaining to see someone's first experience. 

Before long the sweet and savory smells of cooking all around it started to get to Kobb, its mouth subconsciously watering. It had missed lunch due to this whole debacle and Teba could hear the angry complaints of its stomach. Stifling a grin, he led Link and the Bokoblin all the way down the spiral boardwalk to the floating fish farms that encompassed the rock archipelago of Rito Village. Kobb was in awe at how well everything was seemingly built into nature. For a while it forgot about the hunger pangs and just watched the Rito fishers walk all around the bobbing wooden platforms, peering into the square holes that led to the netted tanks, occasionally pulling a fish out to measure and weigh it, before taking notes and tossing it back in.

When it was ready, all Kobb had to do was pick out a fish from the tanks deemed "ready to eat", and the Ritos there would gut and prepare it on the spot. Link was there to help it choose a nice healthy one. From there all they had to do was walk back up and either cook it themselves, or pay someone at the inn to cook it for them. With a hearty wave Teba took off to meet them at the top - using the updrafts from the lake to soar all the way up. Kobb and Link had to take the grueling stairs.

But the effort it took made the first bite of seared Hylian Trout all the more divine.

Kobb softly squealed in delight the moment the flaky buttery fish passed its lips. The tips of its ears twitched in delight, leaning its head back with eyes closed, ready to dive in for more. It had to hold back its ravenous appetite just to savor every bite. Zayl's cooking was objectively better, but the fish being as fresh as can possibly be was hard to beat. Although it made sure to take notes watching the dish get prepared - ready to ask Zayl to replicate it as soon as it'd return. Both Kobb and Link ate at the table in Teba's house, sharing their meal with him and his wife Saki. She had been brought up to speed long ago, but there was a difference between that and actually sitting this close to a Bokoblin. Regardless, she welcomed Kobb with a smile and gave it a wide hug with her bright purple wings, telling it that every guest always gets a "mom hug". Link tried to tiptoe away, not exactly the most touchy-feely with most people, but was grabbed by the shirt collar and hugged all the same.

"You know, I never expected Bokoblins to look so adorable up close…" she whispered to Teba, who playfully rolled his eyes and pushed her on the shoulder. There was still an empty seat, one higher up and smaller than the rest, and Saki's impatience soon showed.

"Oh where in Hyrule is that boy, he disappears like a falcon in an updraft, I swear…" she grumbled, getting up and sticking her head out of their open-wall house. Link gave Teba a smarmy little eyebrow raise, who rolled his eyes again. He never liked to raise his voice, personally.

"Tulin! I told you already, dinner's done! Don't let it get cold!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the whole village and giving Kobb some secondhand embarrassment.

Less than a minute later it saw the spitting image of Teba, only much smaller, bobbing up and down as the Rito child ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. Unlike Teba, the little one's eyes sparkled like his mother's. His wings were mostly developed, but Kobb doubted he'd be able to fly like the grown Rito for at least another few years. That didn't stop him from trying - taking a big leap every few steps and flapping his wings frantically to slow his descent ever so slightly.

"Aw, c'mon, mom!" Tulin whined before getting promptly scooped up in her wings, "I was on a mission!"

Saki giggled and nuzzled her beak into her child's feathers, tickling him as he kicked his talons playfully.

"Ohhhh is that so? Well your new mission is to finish that plate in front of you, so my little fledgling can grow big and strong like your father!" she said, plopping him down in his seat and tying a handkerchief around his neck. Tulin immediately began scarfing his meal down, needing a little correction on manners, before finally looking up and nearly jumping out of his seat when he saw the familiar Hylian at the table - somehow completely glossing over the Bokoblin also across from him.

"Link!" he cried, the Hylian giving him a little wave, "You're here again! I've done so much since last time!"

Link leaned forward with an elbow on the table and the hand on his chin, giving Tulin his undivided attention.

"Oh, you have?" he said with a warm smile, playing the role of a visiting uncle, "What have you been up to since I've been gone?"

Tulin's eyes lit up again and immediately began talking a mile a minute.

"So first I flew all around Hyrule three times! And then I beat up a Stone Talus with my friend Molli all by ourselves! And then I used my bow to hit an apple from a THOUSAND steps away! And then…"

The Rito child chirped on and on but Link stayed attentive the whole time, egging on Tulin to go into the thrilling details, which he did with great embellishment. Teba and Saki couldn't help but smile when they looked at each other, seeing Tulin's beaming face. Eventually he was running out of his 'missions' to talk about and his attention strayed, finally noticing Kobb that had been sitting at the table the entire time.

"Whoa! You're a Bokoblin!" he said, pointing his wing towards Kobb's large snout. Teba and Saki tensed up a little, wondering what either of their reactions would be. Kobb simply straightened its back and puffed out its chest slightly.

"Yes I am!" it said matter-of-factly, having at least some experience with the boundlessly energetic youth thanks to Ashen. Tulin's eyes sparkled with intrigue as he had never actually seen a Bokoblin in real life before - only in picture books and stories.

"That's so cool! …Can I fight you?"

"Tulin!" Teba and Saki shouted in unison, their feathers ruffling from embarrassment as they tried to quell his loose beak. Meanwhile Link and Kobb nearly choked trying not to laugh from the sheer brazenness of the child.

"What? I could see what it's like to fight a real Boko-mmph mmpph!" he tried to say before Saki covered his beak.

"Heh, kids can be pretty blunt sometimes, huh?" she said, blushing through her purple and white feathers, trying to deflect from the faux pas.

Kobb just laughed it off, much to their relief.

"Heh. It is fine. I am used to bluntness - though mostly from ones much older than this one…" it said with a morbid chuckle before turning to the Rito child, "Tulin, you hopefully will not need to fight any Bokoblins, but when you are old enough to hold a sword on your own we can have a friendly spar."

A muffled "Woo-Hoo!" could be heard behind Saki's wing, causing both the mother and the father to sigh. Thankfully that day seemed far enough away that they wouldn't have to worry about it for a while.

Once dinner was finished, Teba took Kobb and Link over to Revali's Landing - which offered a beautiful view of the sunset. The whole time Kobb sat itself next to Link on one of the benches, it was approached by several of the Rito children. Before one even walked up, Kobb spotted the whole gaggle of them watching from a distance - arguing amongst each other over who should go up to it first. One-by-one they took their turn running up to Kobb and either saying some childish quip, or making a playfully rude gesture and running away frantically giggling. Sometimes Kobb would return the gesture or stick out its tongue and make a raspberry sound, causing the small Rito to laugh even harder and sprint back to the group. With every visit it'd look back at Link and exchange a knowing glance.

"You'll get used to it, they don't see non-Rito that often - especially in times like these." Link said, having dealt with this exact bombardment of nosy fledglings, himself. Just as he said that, another one ran up to Kobb.

"If…if you're a Bokobwin, where's your cwub?" she said, leaning forward and back on her talons with wings politely held behind her back.

"I do not have one!" it said with a shrug, "I prefer a sword, like how some Ritos do not use a bow."

"Oooooo…pwefer…that's neat! Mother warned me not to talk to the Bokobwin, but you're pwetty nice!"

That last comment especially broke Kobb's heart and it had to restrain itself from showing too much emotion as the child bounded back to the group, the rest of the fledglings cheering her on and patting her on the back before finally running off somewhere else. With a deep breath Kobb stood up and looked out from the landing across Hebra. But it didn't have a chance to dwell for long as it was interrupted by stomping footsteps and a loud AH-HEM.

It turned to see exactly what it hoped wouldn't be there: a very pissed-off Thrush standing before it with his wings crossed in a withheld rage. Kobb's attention turned to a spot on the Rito's leather tunic. It was pristine and unblemished unlike the rest of the uniform - with holes around the outline where stitching once was. The shape was that of the crest Kobb has spotted throughout the village and on the other Rito guards. The two stared each other down - Kobb matching Thrush's scowl as it had yet to hear a genuine apology from him. And it didn't think that was why he came. Once again several other nosy Rito perched around the landing, waiting to see the conclusion of this altercation.

Without a word Thrust reached his wing up and behind his head, prompting Kobb to instinctively grasp at its sheathed sword. However the disgraced Rito Captain didn't reach for his bow. With a near silent poink he yanked a good-sized feather out of his plumage. It was a beautiful deep sea green, perfectly uniform in hue. The feather was then whipped towards the Bokoblin with a sharp fwish. The pointy end stuck perfectly between the wooden planks of the landing right at Kobb's feet. The crowd gasped and murmurs filled the surrounding pine air. Kobb looked down then back up at Thrush, feeling more out of loop than ever, its scowl replaced with a surprised confusion.

"Well?! What is your answer, monster?" he shouted, beak quivering in rage, "I cannot sink lower than I already have so I might as well take you down with me!"

The Bokoblin's perplexed stare continued.

"You're being challenged to a duel of Rito combat…" Teba muttered, leaning over into Kobb's ear.

"...to the death?" Kobb asked back, shocked at the assumption that Thrush would risk his life to prove a point like this. Teba burst in a deep laugh, not expecting that question.

"No, but close! To establish the pecking order. To claim yourself as the superior fighter. Although for non-Ritos, I wouldn't-"

"I accept." Kobb said, snapping its head towards the challenger without even hearing the rest. While it wasn't the vengeful type, the prospect of knocking Thrush down a peg or two was too tantalizing to ignore especially when the memories of that morning were still fresh and bitter in its mind.

"Wait, Kobb…don't-" Link tried to say, knowing the Bokoblin was being hustled and it knew none of the details involving Rito duels. But it was too late now that the growing crowd had heard it say yes. Another gasp followed, along with Thrush beginning a quiet chuckle that grew to a roaring cackle.

"Hah! Haha! Ahahaha! I can't believe it! You actually accepted! No backing down now! See you at the range in two days, hope you can grow wings before then! You probably should have listened to your Hylian friend!"

Thrush leapt up into the air triumphantly and circled around the main spire several more times before flying off out of sight - his maniacal laughter carrying throughout the air. Feeling more sheepish than ever, Kobb turned with purple-flushed cheeks towards Link and Teba, who both looked at the Bokoblin with unamused frowns.

"I…what should I do now?" it asked, knowing better than to make excuses for the situation it sprinted head-first into.

"Now," Link said, pinching the bridge of his nose with an all-too-familiar migraine, "we get your archery up to snuff and somehow teach you to fly because your mouth talked faster than your brain…"

[frozenbound]

Shimadacest headcanon #49:

(Continuation of Shimadacest Headcanon #29, #30, #31, #32, #33, #34, #35, #36, #37, #38, #39, #40, #41, #42, #43, #44, #45, #46, #47, and #48)

"My turn?" Hanzo chuckles. "You need to give an old man time to catch his breath."

"Have I finally run you ragged, brother?" Genji shoots back, his voice tired yet gleeful. "Now that I know this is what it takes, our training sessions will never be the same."

Hanzo shivers at the implications.

Yes, their training sessions will be...somewhat different from now on.

"I hope..." he begins.

Genji laughs. "Don't worry, brother, I'm not going to demand special treatment or slack off. Being run into the ground is why I want you as my trainer. It's what you can do after I'm laying flat out on the ground, panting, sweaty, ripe, so tired that my muscles have turned to goo...why, you'd be able to do just about anything to me, then."

He grinds his hips against Hanzo's ass, and his cock has only softened a little, so the movement sends a shot of heat through his core.

"But if you can do nothing but lie there," Genji purrs, "then I'll just have to do all the work. Turn over, brother."

Hanzo's face reddens. "Are you...?"

"Turn over, brother," Genji orders again as he gently withdraws. Hanzo clenches down when his cockhead pops free, unwilling to let any of his little brother's precious essence leak out, but it's so deep inside it's debatable whether it will ever come out.

Perhaps his little fantasy of melding it into his body will have some truth to it...

Then Genji tugs on Hanzo's left hip and side and slowly rolls Hanzo over. Hanzo plays at being somewhat of a rag doll, his limbs trailing loosely after his hips and torso flop over.

Genji swallows at the tableau of Hanzo spread out beneath him, his white hair lying like snowdrifts and snowbanks all around him, his white body hair sprinkled across his chest and abs and forearms and thighs.

But what really gets his attention is Hanzo's beatific, almost dreamy expression, his dark eyes relaxed, his smile easy and carefree.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself, brother," Genji says softly. "You look so...happy."

Hanzo feels a pang of regret echo through his chest. He described himself as austere and solemn earlier, and he meant it, but he's also capable of being content and loose and cheerful, and, what's more, he's felt this comfortable and pleased in Genji's company many, many times before...but has Genji never known it?

"I am happy," he confirms, "but not much more so than usual."

Genji blinks. "What?"

Hanzo's face softens as his suspicions are confirmed. "You are a fine young man, Genji," he says sincerely. "I must be calm and collected with you because you're so much younger and more impulsive than I am, but I am very rarely not happy when you're with me. You're my little brother. You're hasty and a rascal and a prankster, but you're goodhearted and kind and quite responsible when it truly matters. I've always admired your dedication to your training and how easily you make friends with everyone you meet, and I've always known that you wouldn't spend so much time with me unless you enjoyed me. I'm very thankful for that, both because it's a compliment to be liked by someone like you, and because I enjoy spending time with you, too."

Genji's eyes are glistening. "So...I'm...not a bother?" he asks, a little tremulously.

"Of course you're a bother," Hanzo laughs. "But that's what makes you Genji, my aggravating, annoying, playful, spirited little brother. Who would want anyone else as a younger sibling? You're perfect."

Genji sniffles and turns away to scrub at his eyes for a moment. "You're...you're doing this on purpose," he mutters thickly.

"Yes," Hanzo says with great affection. "You're so cute when something touches your heart."

"Someone," Genji corrects, and that strikes true on Hanzo, and his lip trembles before he begins to gather himself up to rise up to embrace his little brother.

Genji pushes him back down, though. "Later," he admonishes, his eyes still a little wet. "We can be silly and sappy and emotional later. Right now, though, I want to take care of you. Take care of this."

And he takes Hanzo's slightly softened cock in hand.

Genji licks his lips as he tests how large it is, and again when it begins to revive and get even larger.

"Let's get you inside me, brother."

[maverickrojas]

There was something exhilarating, even at Maverick’s age, about being complimented by a handsome man. The implication that he might be a suitable rival for Simon’s affection – against someone such as Billy McHale, no less – was flattering beyond words. Not that Maverick had any intentions of pursuing Simon romantically, of course. Bar their one, sweet night together, the two were much better suited as friends. He adored him far too much to blur the lines, not to mention the fact that he was happily rooting for he and Billy to make sense of the strange entanglement they’d found themselves in. 

Maverick offered a fond smile as Harlow spoke, listening carefully, picking up on cues and laughing where appropriate. The lilt of Harlow’s accent was comforting in its familiarity, but there was also something so charming about his particular twang that lifted Maverick’s spirits ever higher. He found himself immediately charmed by the man, taken by his cheery attitude and the warmth of his smile. So much so, in fact, that he found himself especially slow on the uptake, the other man’s question taking a moment to register with him. 

He pondered over his words, mulling it over in his mind. It wasn’t often that Maverick talked about his family, not anymore. During his time as a Social Worker, he’d been prone to sharing the details of his upbringing, the distance that he’d been forced to place between himself and his parents; He found it made him better at his job to be candid with the children and teens that he interacted with. The vast majority of them came from hostile environments, their disadvantaged backgrounds often mirroring his own in some way or another. It was a lot easier to connect and empathise with somebody that you had a common ground with, he found, and so he was reasonably generous when it came to sharing the details. 

Something about Harlow made him pause, though. Not that the other man wasn’t trustworthy – though the two had only just met, Maverick certainly didn’t want to discredit the kindness in the other man’s face – but merely due to their common threads. Harlow worked with Simon, a close friend of Maverick’s, and while he didn’t want to assume that Harlow was a gossip, it somehow felt different bestowing such personal information on somebody that you might cross paths with again, as opposed to a young, desperate kid in need of reassurance that things can – and do – get better. 

“No sir, not anymore,” he shrugged, a sigh falling from his lips, albeit against his will. 

Maverick loved his grandparents with all his might, truth be told. As hateful as his parents had been, he’d always had a perfectly good relationship with his grandparents. They hadn’t exactly been what you’d call understanding with regards to his sexuality, but they’d certainly tried a damn sight harder than his parents had. With his Grandpa gone, he’d tried to stay in touch with his Grandmama after leaving – not wanting to lose all connection to home – but his parents had soon poisoned her mind against him, feeding her lies in an attempt to isolate him. 

“Truthfully? I needed a fresh start,” he shrugged, a half-truth. “I worked my way right across the map and never quite seemed to know when to stop.” 

Tapping his foot against the linoleum, Maverick shifted his weight to sit more firmly against the desk behind him. He still had some time to kill before he needed to prep for class, and he was enjoying Harlow’s company far too much to bring the conversation to a halt. He gestured with one hand to the giant map of the United States that adorned his wall, currently hanging loose over his chalk-board where he’d hung it in preparation for the morning’s Geography class. 

“I went from Texas to Kansas, just to begin with. I was findin’ my feet, y’see? I’d never quite left home until then. I ended up all the way over in Nevada for almost a year, would you believe? And then I got to workin’ and a-travellin'. Found my footin’ and crossed right through the home State without even a backward glance,” he smiled, his eyes distant as he thought back to a time he’d long-since tried to forget. 

He recalled those laborious days, travelling through Texas, wondering if enough time had passed for him to finally reconcile with his parents. He’d considered checking in with them, seeing if they’d changed their ways and were ready to welcome him with open arms. An unexpected and unfortunately fleeting sighting of Beatrice had put a stop to that thought, however. She was all grown up since the last time he’d seen her; Clad in a modest dress, Rosary beads accenting the outfit, looking nothing like the boisterous troublemaker he’d once known. He’d been terrified of reaching out to her as he hadn’t wanted to frighten her, so he’d opted for cowardice instead and went on his way. 

“From there, it was Alabama, then right on down to Florida for a few years. I found myself embraced in somethin’ of a foxtrot between New York and Florida for a few years, before finally settlin’ back down here,” he shrugged. Clearing his throat, Maverick shook his head, offering the other man an apologetic smile. “An’ here I am, borin’ you to sleep with all my talk! That’s surely enough about me, I think!” 

Tipping his head to the side, he admitted, “I sure would love to hear more about you.” 

Now, Harlow was quick to embarrass himself, ask anyone. But my God, he was certain he’d never seen anyone turn a shade that pink that fast when under duress. The teacher’s ears had turned a rather cute, ruddy shade of pinky-red that made Harlow’s stomach fizz with delight at the sheer sight of him. With Maverick tripping over his words in that familiar accent of his and ducking his head, Harlow found a grin stretching over his features as big and as bright as the Fourth of July.

“My mistake.” Harlow smirked, a hand falling over his heart, his old wedding ring catching in the dull Winter light. Of course, no longer worn on the appropriate finger and worn with an assortment of other rings, it hardly was cause for attention. Still, he’d had many good natured chats with Billy about not wearing them on shift, especially if he was working behind the coffee machine.

“I always figured he was harbouring a little something for the bossman, but yours is a difficult face to pass up. I could see how his head would be turned.”

Harlow was shocked at his own forwardness. Oh, this was unlike him! And on the steps of a school, nonetheless! Still, something about the other man’s shyness had emboldened him, as Maverick stood with his cheeks aflame, clutching them between his hands. He was nothing like the city boys Harlow had met in coffee shops and flirted with in bars, he was a welcome slice of home, a breath of fresh air. Harlow knew no matter how this interaction ended, he couldn’t let Maverick get away without promising to see him again. Attractive as he was, Harlow got so homesick sometimes he’d settle just for having a friend, a nice guy like Mav who Harlow was already so drawn to.

The two walked in companionable step through the hallways of the school. Behind closed doors, Harlow could hear the goings on of various lessons, excitable children calling out answers in Math class or banging together tambourines in Music just down the way. The enthusiasm and controlled chaos within these walls warmed his heart, and even as his arms ached with the weight of the boxes, he felt happy in the knowledge that he was helping do something that really mattered. God bless Billy McHale.

“Aw, no way! Small world. Well, love thy neighbor, and all that.” Harlow chirped, despite the fact his family had never really been church going folk. When he’d proposed to Laurel, he’d breathed a sigh of relief to learn that she didn’t want a fancy church wedding, nor did she want their kids to have any sort of religious upbringing. Still, it was Texas, and Love Thy Neighbour was plastered on every porch of every house you passed by, practically.

“Can’t say I think I’m the same calibre as Beyoncé, but what a woman, huh?” he laughed.

Taking a sudden stop, Harlow could only guess they’d reached their destination. The man in front of him leaned his weight against the brightly coloured door, it swinging open to reveal an equally bright classroom. Again, he was hit with the full force of memory, Rosie’s chubby little hand in his as she led him around her classroom on her first day, showing off her assigned seat and the little cubby hole where she left her jacket and shoes each morning. This classroom was a lot like that one, bright and clearly had had plenty of hours poured into it to become a space kids could really learn, adorned with color by a teacher who really cared.

“Dallas.” Harlow nodded, “You spend much time out in Houston with your Grandparents?”

Harlow couldn’t help but think, with a twinge of embarrassment, that if Maverick had been around when he was working out the whole queer thing, it would have come around a lot quicker and a lot easier.

Harlow dropped the boxes atop Maverick’s own, making a neat stack as he straightened back up, hitting the other man with the full force of his smile.

“You’re making me blush.” he smiled, waving the other man off. “What brought you out here? If you don’t mind me askin’."

[writersblockedx]

Loose Ends: Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Hope

Based off - Episode three Pairing - Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Warning - Angst! Mentions of death, implication of a miscarriage, alcohol, mentions of violence Words - 10K

A/n - I altered some of the structure of this episode to better fit in some other scenes but I hope still reads okay!

⇦ Previous Chapter  Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist 

2010 Of course, Joel was wary. Though, not so much because they had left the comforts of QZ or because any infected could be roaming around, but because they were going to go and meet people. People they didn't know. Well, Y/n knew them, had talked to one of them at least. And her being her, she chose to trust the man on the other side of the radio who promised ideas of trading and supplies they both needed.

It had taken a long time for Y/n to convince Joel. As it had Frank to convince Bill. "What'd you tell FEDRA you were doing?" Joel had asked, half way through their journey.

His hand on the wheel, his eyes taking glances between the road in front and the woman in the passenger seat. "That I needed a day off." She shrugged. "As far as they're concerned, we're having quality couple time in the apartment." The girl winked which only caused the man to roll his eyes. She giggled and it relaxed the air, "I promise, they're good people."

"If they're even telling the truth." Joel argued.

"I suppose we're about to find out."

As it turned out, they were telling the truth. The couple had boarded off what used to be a small town. It was as if Y/n and Joel had walked through a wormhole, transported to a time where a disease hadn't taken out most of humanity. They were severed lunch on porcelain plates with aged wine in expensive glasses.

Y/n savoured her last mouthfuls as a smile slipped to her lips. "I don't know if I've just been deprived of propper food for far too long, or this is truly just delicious."

Frank straightened his back, his wine hanging from his fingertips, "Didn't I tell you?"

"You must have been a cook before the outbreak, right?" Her palms cupped her chin as she leaned in, looking at Bill who had yet to say a word. Rather, he had just stared rather intensely between her and Joel, as if trying to work them out.

His only response was to put a gun to the table. The barrel was pointed to the man across from Bill, Joel. Yet Joel didn't tense at all. "Can you not?" Frank scolded, his hand hovering over Bill's as he seemed to calm for a moment. Frank reached for the wine bottle, topping up everyone's glasses. "But no, he wasn't a chef. Just a survivalist." He glanced to Bill. "Right? That's what you call it?"

He gave a nod; the first addition to the conversation the man had given. "I'm the same." Said Joel, not taking his gaze from Bill or his gun.

"What?" Frank uttered with a raised brow. "A survivalist? Paranoid? Schizophrenic?"

"I'm not schizophrenic." Bill said, though didn't deny the idea of being paranoid. Not that paranoia was such a bad thing in the midst of an apocalypse.

Y/n shifted in her chair, taking a sip of her wine before speaking, "Look, we get the gun, the paranoia, we do," She glanced to Joel who silently agreed. "But this place is incredible. The food incredible too. So thank you, both of you, for letting us into your home and giving the chance for us to start working together."

It was Frank who spoke first, to no surprise at all. "Of course." He sent a smile which Y/n returned. "And speaking of working together, why don't I show you around?"

The two were already standing from their chairs, "Definitely." Said Y/n.

"You two behave, alright?"  He warned, looking between Bill, Joel and the gun which was still on the table.

Y/n's hands glided along Joel's shoulders, placing a soft kiss to his forehead before she left with Frank. The rest of the town was similar to their home. While still affected by the outbreak, the town was slick and clean. The plants were growing but the weeds were pulled. Most of the shops seemed tidy and only needed a fresh lick of paint until they looked as if nothing had changed.

Y/n couldn't help but swirl on her two feet, taking in this town which still held a white-picket-fence facade. "I just- I can't believe this place." She thought aloud as her gaze danced around the buildings.

"Bill was the one who did it all, made it possible." The other man explained. "It was me who just made things look pretty."

She settled on her feet once again and nudged Frank's shoulder, "Well, I think you both did an excellent job."

A moment passed as the pair wandered down the clean street. "You know he found me in a ditch." The girl peered over, a laugh at the tip of her tongue. "Well, a ditch he had dug himself. I think he saved me." The man went on, a wholesome grin held at his expression. "What about you? How'd you find that one back there?" He nodded to where they had walked from, where Joel and Bill were still having a tense dinner by the house.

A smile graced her lips just at the thought of him and the scowl she was certain he was wearing. "Oh, I saved him." She uttered before they turned and continued their walk. "He was a mess when I found him. Came into the medic building with a broken hand, I fixed it up for him. Though, it wasn't until we-" She stopped and squirmed, causing a chuckle from Frank.

He nodded in understanding, "Yeah."

And that gave her the prompt to continue, "He told me he had broken it punching a wall. I made a promise to myself then and there that even if we didn't get together, I'd still stick by him until he was okay." She explained.

"And is he okay now?" Frank asked in full sincerity.

Y/n shrugged as she thought on it, "I suppose some wounds heal, some become scars." She uttered and he agreed silently through his expression. "But in terms of this, the outside, infected, whatever, that he keeps me safe from."

There was an understanding hum from Frank, "Didn't know how to use a gun until Bill."

Y/n giggled at the similarities, "Me neither."

Frank came to a slow stop as they came towards one of the buildings. It was made of white wood as like the rest of the town, but had a pharmacy sign on the outside. "Take whatever you need, just leave some painkillers for when Bill drinks too much of that wine." Y/n wouldn't blame him; they didn't have anything like that back at the QZ.

"And whenever you need me-" She had started, but the man had been smooth to cut off her worries.

"I'll radio you." He nodded his head in agreement. "Might be nice to have someone who knows what they're doing. Don't think it'll be long until his liver gives in." The two chuckled before wandering into the pharmacy for Y/n to grab some of the supplies they were low on back in Boston.

They left with a bit more than medicine. Frank had given Y/n some of the female clothes they had no use for, some decent food and even a bottle of wine. She said her goodbyes to the couple knowing it wouldn't be the last time they saw each other.

"I told you they were good people." Y/n uttered as the two climbed back into the car. All that Joel gave in reply were some grunts. So she leaned over before he started the car, "You just hate that you were wrong and don't want to admit that you actually had a good time."

He sent a stern expression in response which had only made the smile at Y/n's lips grow twice as much. But he leaned in and mumbled against the small amount of air between them, "I always have a good time with you." With that, he leaned into her lips, savouring the sweet kiss.

When the man pulled away, that smile on Y/n's lips had yet to leave. "Such a romantic, Joel Miller." She had mocked, urging her giggles on more as he retracted back to the steering wheel.

"Shut up."

The woods were always bitter. The autumn trees didn't help in preventing the wind and the ground was crisp and uncomfortable to sit on. Joel had been adamant they stay near the river as it would have been easier to collect water, but that only meant their attempts for sleep were futile.

Y/n must have gathered at most an hour's sleep throughout the night. While Ellie must have gained a few, sleeping through the early hours with her head in Y/n's lap. Just as she was right now. It was Joel who made Y/n the most worried. She was certain he hadn't a wink of sleep, said nothing when the sun started raising and when Ellie began to stir, he stood from his place and walked off with the promise he would be back soon.

"What you thinking about?" Ellie wondered aloud, looking up at the worrisome woman.

She flashed a smile that was obviously forced as she said, "None of your business, little one."

Then she faked an obnoxious gasp, "Is it Joel?" She queried. "Are you worried about your ex-hubby?" Her own words were erupting chuckles that, considering the tense atmosphere, were definitely needed.

"I thought you were trying to get more sleep?" Y/n swiftly changed the topic.

She hummed, "Tormenting you is just more fun."

Another one of her giggles followed, stopping Y/n from noticing the heavy footsteps which welcomed Joel back. Both Ellie and Y/n went quiet; Y/n was certainly worried about him. But that wasn't because of their history, it was because he had lost someone close to him. Maybe Joel had expected himself to be fine and was pushing that onto himself, while the other two were waiting, almost willing for him to give in to the feeling they were sure was plaguing him.

Ellie pulled herself up from Y/n's lap, gazing at the silent man. "Do you want your jacket back?" She questioned holding up the material Joel had given her in the middle of the night when the air-dropped in temperature.

He shook his head, rummaging through his bag. Y/n's eyes trained over his body, lingering on his exposed hand. The one she had once fixed up for him. The one which was now bruised and black and urged Y/n's concern on further. "How's the hand?" She questioned.

He barely looked at her. "Fine."

Though, Y/n doubted it truly was fine. Anyone could look at his hand and tell you that it wasn't fine. "I can do it up for you agai-"

"It's fine." He snapped back but didn't raise his voice. Instead, it was stern and haunting as it shot through the bitter air.

Silence followed. Joel went back to his bag and Y/n felt a wave of regret passing; maybe she shouldn't have said anything. When Joel finally stopped rummaging through his bag, he leaned back, something wrapped in his hand. It wasn't until he threw it to Ellie that Y/n realised it was the last of a sandwich. And a starving Ellie didn't think twice about eating it.

Joel glanced to Y/n, holding up another piece of bread they hadn't bothered to eat. He raised a brow, quietly asking if she wanted it. Her head shook; they didn't know how long it would take to get to Bill and Frank's. "I don't like the woods." Ellie spoke aloud as her gaze danced around the trees above. "Too many bugs than I thought." She complained.

Y/n stood at that, walking over to Joel who was sorting out the supplies. He'd never ask for it, but she thought it best to help him. Ellie stayed comfy by the tree, and between chews she uttered, "I've been thinking about-"

"I don't want your sorries."

Y/n halted as she stared up from her own bag. "I wasn't gonna say I was sorry." Ellie argued as the man slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I was gonna say I've been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you, or Y/n or Tess take me." Her words slowed over the memory of Tess. "Nobody made you go along with this plan. You needed a truck battery or whatever and you made a choice. So don't blame me for something that isn't my fault."

Her defence was valid and it seemed enough for Joel as he nodded in return. The two girls did as he had, taking their bags and standing. She returned Joel's jacket and Y/n wandered if it were still right for her to be wearing the one which belonged to Tess. "How much longer?" Nagged Ellie.

Her and Joel shared a similar expression. "You're not gonna like it." Y/n told her.

Joel was the one to break the news: "Five hour hike."

"You alright with that?" Y/n checked.

But the young girl nodded in full confidence, "We can manage it." And if it were always that easy, they had simply got up and left in search of their next pitstop.

The journey was quiet. Ellie spoke but Joel never bothered responding. A lot of the conversation was fueled by Ellie's lack of awareness about this world outside the QZ. Y/n watched in awe as the innocent girl explored this nature she had always been deprived of. But there still lingered a hole, a haunting memory of Tess who had too fed into the young girl's wonders.

"You gone this way before?" She inquired, walking between Y/n and Joel.

Joel's eyes were kept trained in front of him. Even when Y/n glanced over at him, he didn't make an effort to glance back. "We used to." She answered as her gaze glistened down to the young, curious girl. "We normally came up in a car, used what's left of the roads."

"But this way is safe right?" She pressured.

Y/n's expression moulded into a cautious one, almost offended that Ellie would even think they would take her somewhere not safe without warning. "You think we'd risk it?"

Ellie didn't give an answer to that, instead, she continued on with her questions, "So no infected?"

"No infected." Y/n confirmed.

"Then what's he looking for?" She gestured over to Joel who had finally taken it upon himself to look back at the pair.

His glare was daunting and heavy, urging him to let out a sigh as he looked away. "People." His tone just like his glare: heavy, tired, worn out. So much so, it had sent shivers down Y/n's spine just at the sound.

Ellie didn't seem shaked by that idea as, like always, her questions piled on. "What about Bill and Frank? Are they nice?"

And as she had done for the last hour, Y/n answered them as to the best of her ability. "Yeah, Frank more than Bill, but they're good people."

A pause came. Y/n was certain it gave time for Ellie to wonder on more as more questions started falling from her lips. "How'd you get that scar on your forehead?" Y/n had looked back to the girl, finding her gaze centred on Joel. And the man did nothing but huff. "What? Is it something lame? Like you fell down the stairs?"

Y/n's eyes too clung over Joel, awaiting his answer. "I didn't fall down the stairs."

"Okay? So what then?" She pushed.

"Someone shot me and missed."

The young girl's face glistened, "See, that's cool!" She exclaimed. "Did you shoot back?"

He still seemed to refuse to look at Ellie. His eyes were following the trees and what could be hidden within them. "Yeah." He informed.

"You get him?" Her voice eager and hanging onto this story Joel obviously didn't want to tell.

"No, I missed too." Her face fell, obviously expecting more from him. "It happens more than you think."

A small chuckle slipped from her lips as she stared up at him, doe-eyed, "Because you suck at shooting? Or just like in general?" She asked.

His glare became firmer as he answered, "In general."

Ellie then peered over at Y/n, the same curious wonder speckled in her eyes, "What about you? Any cool scars?"

She shook her head lightly, "Not really."

"So you do?" Her eyes widened.

"None that have stories." That seemed to satisfy Ellie enough as she continued on. But Y/n felt another gaze on her. She lifted her head and there was a flicker of a shared glance between her and Joel.

Her mind's focus dwindled. As did her eyes. Y/n hadn't realised it, but she stared at the rifle in Joel's hand, the pistol tucked in the waistband of Y/n's jeans and the third pistol that clung to Joel's waist. "You know, I was thinking I should probabl-"

Y/n cut her off first, knowing where she was going, "Not happening." And her lips stayed sealed.

They turned the corner, meeting their half way point which Joel had planned. The sight of something other than woodland had build up Ellie's enthusiasm as she skipped in front of the two adults. "Cumberland Farms." She sung, reading what was left of the store sign.

He walked passed Ellie, instructing her, "Hang back a minute." Though, Y/n doubted that Ellie would listen. "I gotta grab some stuff I've stashed."

And as expected, Ellie didn't 'hang back'. In fact, she continued to follow Y/n and Joel. "Stashed? Why do you have stuff stashed here?" She interrogated.

Joel started walking quicker and thus, the other picked up their pace too. "You ask a lot of Goddamn questions."

Y/n chuckled and lifted her head to Joel, "You've only just noticed?"

They came up to the front of the decaying store and Joel slowed. He made no care to try and attempt to get Ellie to stay outside. Instead, he was silent as he swung the door open and it crackled. "So...are you gonna answer me or what?" Ellie pestered.

Once Joel knew it to be safe, he walked through. Thuds and cracks came from below as their feet stood on scatters of glass and trash which was left behind. "We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear." The man explained.

Y/n followed Joel down the first aisle, "Like we are now." She added.

"No way!" Y/n spun around, stopping her walk to find a gigantic grin plastered over the girl's lips. She was making a B-line to the other end of the store, her pupils glowing at the sight of the old 80s game machine. "You ever play this one? I had a friend who knew everything about this game. There's a character name Mileena who takes her mask off and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones!" She went on, that same excitement flushing through her tone.

Joel stared over at Y/n with raised brows, silently asking what was up with Ellie and the game. In response, Y/n could only shrug her shoulders before Joel shook his head and start searching the floor. His feet kicked against the rubbish which littered the floor but seemed to come out empty handed. "Joel?" Called Y/n, gaining only a grunt in response.

Ellie caught on to Y/n's line of thinking, "You forgot where you put the stuff didn't you?"

He looked up, gazing between the two and realising the little hope they had in him finding these supplies. "No." He said, ever so sure of himself. "I'm just zeroing in on it. It had been a couple years." He excused as he looked back and continued to shift through the ashy floor.

"Well then I'm gonna take a look around, see if there's anything good." Ellie announced, already walking further into the back of the store.

As Joel didn't bother to look up, Y/n did, "It's already all been picked over." She told her.

By no surprise, that hadn't stopped her. "Maybe. Maybe not" She mumbled before wandering into another room. "Is there anything bad in here?"

Joel still didn't look up but he came out with a reply, "Just you."

"Getting funnier." Ellie grumbled, going to turn before Y/n snapped at her.

"Hey." The girl turned back, rolling her eyes like the teenager she was becoming. "Don't do anything stupid, yeah?"

She nodded her head and mocked a salute in reply, "Yes, Ma'am!" And with that, she slipped into the other room as wonder consumed her thoughts and behaviour once more.

Y/n's pupils lingered until her figure faded into the shadows. Only then did she turn around to face Joel who had opened a cupboard to find it empty. "Fuck." He had whispered in hopes the woman hadn't over heard him.

Alas, when he peaked back at her, he found her arms crossed and her brow raised. "You can't remember can you?" She was well aware of the answer. She had been well aware of the answer for the last five minutes.

He huffed as he retracted from the storage cupboard, "No, I can't." He muttered and moved onto the further end of the aisle.

Y/n followed after him. All she did was brush her fingertips over his and it caused a stir. He snapped around and snatched his hand away. His eyes seemed wary of the touch he had been so deprived of. So much so, he seemed scared of that touch now. "Joel," She uttered his name so softly it had helped him calm. "Just let me help."

They both were aware that statement was in reference to everything else, not just helping him find this box of supplies. And maybe his reply was too in reference to all them other things which had burdened him, "Okay." He nodded his head slowly and she followed him in searching the rest of the floor. "It might over this way," He was pointed over to another storage container, leaning over as he reached to open it. "But I don't know if it was- Fuck!"

Y/n jolted, she hadn't realised what had happened until she noted the way Joel was clenching his hand. His broken hand. "Shit, Joel." She hushed. She jumped over the littered floor, her tender hands wrapped around his broken one. Her gaze glanced back at the container and the fresh blood which was scattered across it's rusted edges. "Sit, now." She ordered, her eyes stern when he looked back, not wanting to entertain what was about to happen. "Joel just do what I fucking say for once, how bout that?"

He huffed but tumbled over towards the end of the store, sitting with his back against what used to be a freezer. Y/n crouched down, throwing her bag in front of her. She shifted through it, locating some cloth and tape to patch the man up. She went to touch his hand once more which had only made him jump. "Joel," Her tone was suddenly soft. "I meant what I said, let me help."

It took him a moment. His gaze lifting between her hand and her expression. But, alas, he put out his hand and Y/n took a gentle hold over it. She placed over the new cloth, putting his fingers in place before tying it and taping it together. Yet, her hands lingered for a moment. "I know it's not my place to-"

"You're right, it's not." He grunted in response as he snatched his hand back to himself.

Her head lowered but she stayed crouched in front of him. A moment passed in which the girl plunked the courage to speak her mind, "You can't do this again Joel." His eyes snapped to her, wide at the idea that she had even thought to say this. "You can't hide away and pretend nothing has happened. You're allowed to feel, Joel. You're allowed to ask and accept help. Otherwise, it will eat you whole. I wo- I won't let you do it again."

When Joel gave no argument, she shuffled, sitting next to him. "She was wrong you know." The girl thought aloud and he peered over at her. "Tess. You and her weren't bad people, you just had bad things happen to you. You both did the best you could with what you were given." She offered.

"You had bad things happened to you too." Joel finally said something and Y/n felt a wave of relief pass her. "No one thinks you're horrible."

She shrugged, "You'd be surprised."

He chuckled at her words, "I've known you for years, Y/n, I don't think you've got many surprises left in you." There was a cheeky glint in his eyes which had only enticed her more.

"Oh, really? So me working with the fireflies was so obvious to you was it?" He knew he was fighting a losing battle once she said that. "Or helping a kid who might have the cure flowing through her vines. Shall I go on, because I can?"

He shook his head, "Alright, alright." And he surrendered this battle he was never going to win.

A moment passed and the comedic tone fell. Y/n nudged the man, their fingertips grazing against one another's. "I'm here for you, Joel, whatever you need." She said, her words dripping in sympathy that could be heard from miles away.

And he returned to such with the slither of a smile and true gratitude, "Thanks." He nodded his head and they seeped back into silence.

But such silence had allowed Y/n's eyes to wonder. They dropped to the floor in front of them, about only a meter away where part of the floor seemed higher than the rest. "Oh my god." She spoke aloud as she dragged herself over to it.

"What?" Joel questioned with knitted brows as the girl in front leaned over a part of the floor.

"It's here!" Excitement grew in her tone as her fingers lined the square which was hidden into the floor. "I can't believe it, we- we must have walked right over it." She glanced back, finding Joel had moved to, barely inches from her face.

Y/n lifted up the piece of the floor, revealing the bright green box which resided within it. They pulled it out with glee on their faces. "Suppose it's good to know you can hide things well." Y/n thought aloud before dropping the box to the floor with a thud.

Joel clicked it open, ravaging through and gathering things as needed. "I'm thinking about leaving this." Voiced the man as he gestured to the rifle.

The woman raised a brow, uncertainty woven through her pupils, "You think that's a good idea?"

As if backing up her words, a metal clank came from the room Ellie had wandered in to. The two adults snapped around but Y/n stood. Her hand went straight to her back, pulling her pistol from her jeans as she took steady steps over to the adjacent room. "Ellie?" She called, giving a cautious glance to Joel who was towering over the metal box of supplies. "Ellie?"

The woman was about to round the corner into the room when the young girl skipped out. She was flashing a box of tampons into Y/n's face and then over at Joel as she walked out, "Picked over my ass." She spat as she strolled out like it was nothing, like Y/n hadn't just pictured her face as several infected crawled at her skin.

Still, Y/n leaned into the room slightly. When nothing came to alarm her, she slipped the pistol back into her jeans and wandered back over. Joel returned the box into the floor - along with the rifle. "What are you doing?" Inquired Ellie.

Joel had simply shrugged, "There's not much ammo out there for this thing. Makes it mostly useless."

Ellie snapped over to Y/n, pointing a finger at Joel as he packed the supplies away. "And you're okay with that?" She checked over.

"I mean it's there's no use for it, then-"

"We don't have to leave it." The girl offered hastily. "I mean I could always-"

And, in sync, the two adults became stern in their expressions and said, "No." With that, the girl shut up and they continued out the store.

They walked through many fields and paths as they made their way towards Bill and Frank's. Conversation was light. Suppose walking for almost three hours had tired Ellie and her various questions out. But the young girl soon lit up as they passed a rather eye-sore of a sight.

Atop one of the fields laid a wreckage of a plane, which likely went down during the day of the outbreak or around that time. And likely a military plane, meaning FEDRA. "Holy shit!" Exclaimed Ellie as their footsteps slowed. "You fly in one of those?" She wondered.

Y/n gave a hum, "Sometimes."

A sniffle of a laugh passed from her lips, "Lucky." And Y/n recalled thinking about how back then, going on a plane was never seen as something so lucky to be experiencing.

As if reading her mind, Joel leaned into the conversation, "Didn't seem like it at the time." He went on, "Got shoved into the middle seat and paid twenty bucks for a sandwich."

"And trust me," Y/n nudged Ellie's shoulder playfully, "The sandwiches were nothing like the ones Marlene makes you."

"Oh, come on," The girl nagged. "You literally got to go up in the sky!"

"So did they." Joel gazed back at the wreckage and suddenly the enthusiasm of the plane was stripped to apathy, clouded by the idea of death.

Y/n huffed and turned to continue walking, "Always the positive, Joel." She commented as they all moved on.

"So it all came crashing down in one day?" Ellie asked as she came in between Y/n and Joel, looking up at each of them.

"Pretty much." Answered Joel.

"How? I mean someone had to be the first to get bit? Was it a monkey? I bet it was for a monkey." She rambled on with her theories.

Joel took a breath as his eyes jumped over to Y/n, "That's a question for the doctor."

Y/n thought on it for a moment. There were many grim parts of the outbreak starting, parts of which sometimes weren't worth thinking about. So, the woman explained as best as she could, "A few of my friends, before they got infected, were working on a theory. It's likely the most reliable one. Though we'll probably never have the resources to know for sure, but they think the Cordyceps mutated and got into the food supply." She glanced over to Ellie who was hanging onto every word the woman spoke. "First record of it was at a flour mill in Indonesia. But, by that point, the food had already been shipped out all around the world. It was on the shelves, people were eating pancakes and cereal for breakfast not aware it was about to turn them into raging monsters. You were just lucky if you were able to miss it."

Ellie took it in before commenting, "Makes more sense than monkeys." She sent a smile which the older woman returned. "Did you know? Like were you in a lab somewhere stopping it- or well, trying to stop it?"

Her smile faded and her eyes went blank. "Yeah, yeah I was." She said as her mind seem to be drawn somewhere else. "We tried. We tested. We did everything we could but- but it in the end the only thing that made any dent in the spread of infection was destruction." And even then, it had barely done anything.

"Harsh." Ellie huffed.

Y/n nodded, not bothering to look back at her, "You've got no idea." It was only after she said that she realised the other two were no longer following her. Y/n halted and peered back at Joel whose eyes were widened, scanning the area ahead. "What-?" It hit her and she let out an, "Oh."

"What?" Ellie's eager eyes flickered between Y/n and Joel. "What is it?"

Joel glared at the woman and she knew she was getting silently scolded for such an obvious hint that Ellie was sure to pick up on. "We'll cut across the woods here." Joel planned as his finger aimlessly pointed to somewhere passed Y/n's head.

"Isn't the road easier?" The young girl argued.

The man gazed to Y/n, begging for help in getting around this sticky situation. "In a way, sure."

Her brows narrowed, "Okay, what aren't you telling me?"

Y/n shrugged, "There's just some things that maybe you shouldn't have to see, that's all."

"Oh, come on," A smirk rose to her lips as she wandered forward. "Now I have to see." Y/n knew something like that was always bound to follow.

The young girl swirled in front of the two adults who had stayed utterly still. "We don't won't you to." Added Joel, their stance stern as they held this parenting facade which wasn't working for them in the face of Ellie Williams.

But the girl kept on walking. And that smile at her lips failed to ever leave. "Ellie, this isn't a joke!" The woman snapped, finding herself having no choice but to walk on after her, Joel trailing behind.

"Can it hurt me?" She asked, her back turned to them both.

"That's not the point." She gave her most disciplinary voice; it still wasn't enough.

Ellie looked over her shoulder, "So, no then?"

The girl continued to walk in front of the other two. She seemed rather hyper to figure out this unknown. Anything slightly worrisome or cause for concern and Ellie was all over it like a rash. Y/n wondered if the same would be true if she really knew what part of the past she was about to walk in on.

Y/n was aware they were close when that pit her stomach grew. Like bulging pain which was impossible to ignore. "Whatever is was...I think it's gone." Said Ellie, but it wasn't, it would take many more years to erode away into the soil.

When Y/n took another glance, she found the girl stopped in her pace. Her eyes were drawn to the ditch below. There were many horrors in this world, but the bones which piled high in that ditch summed up most of them. The clothes, some baby clothes and broken bones, some of which had snapped and cracked with the time which had passed. She had never been able to look long enough to find a bullet-shaped hole in any of the heads. Though, she knew they were there.

This time there came no question from Ellie, only an answer from Joel. "About a week after the outbreak, soldiers went through the countryside and evacuated small towns." He took a breath, gathering the words which were ever so hard to voice. "Told you that you were going o a QZ and you were, if there was room. If there wasn't..." He needn't go on any further.

"These people weren't sick." Ellie realised.

Subconsciously, Y/n's head seemed to shake, "No they weren't." She said before swallowing the lump which was growing in her throat.

"So why kill them? Why not leave them be?"

The woman felt her shoulders tense. And Joel was about to jump in and answer for her when her lips opened, "They needed to save everyone they could." Her throat choked at the words. "And well, dead people couldn't get infected so." Her eyes lingered only for a moment. Not long enough to draw tears from her pupils. "Come on, we should get moving."

Y/n started walking but the two didn't follow, not straight away anyway. With knitted brows, Ellie had peered up at Joel, "Is she okay?"

"She's fine." He said sternly and started walking.

Neither of the two would say anything, but something had Y/n on edge. Maybe Joel knew slithers of what might be going on in her head but he had never been told the full story. And considering the current context, it certainly wasn't his place to push it. So he kept quiet and made sure to keep his eye out on the woman.

The path they were following soon led to the town. The one town which was still intact, not overrun in raging killing machines. But yet, something haunting still loomed over it like a dark rain cloud. They wouldn't realise the intensity of such until later on. But it was something that was going to make them wish they had never headed for their old friends.

Joel took the lead as they came up to the gate which boarded off the small town. It seemed quiet, strangely quiet. By now, they should have tripped the alarm and Bill should be out here throwing a gun in their faces, not realising they were friends. But that never came. Instead, Joel pushed the code into the gate and they let themselves in.

It only got stranger as they proceeded further into the town, with no sign of either Bill or Frank. Though, it was when Y/n noted the dead flower arrangments that her panic really started to grow; Frank wouldn't have let them die like that. They each slowed in front of the house. Y/n couldn't help but turn back to face Joel, worry written into her pupils, "You don't think that...something's happened, do you?"

He could only shrug at the thought, "I don't know." And with that, the man took the first step towards the front door.

Y/n trailed behind, her eyes darting between the several other plants which lacked the beauty Frank once provided them with. Joel clicked the door open: unlocked. The air inside the home felt empty. The three of them were bundled inside the hallway and Y/n couldn't shake the lack of the life that resided here. "What the fuck?" Ellie questioned in a hushed whisper.

Joel kept a tight grip over his pistol as he stared towards the bottom end of the hallway, "Bill?" There came no reply.

Y/n wandered into the room next to them, the one scattered in paintings, "Frank?" Again, nothing called back out to them. She huffed and walked back, "Joel, what's going on?" The panic rose in her tone.

His head shook and he stared over at Ellie, "You stay here. If you see anything, hear anything...yell." And with that, Joel dragged himself further down the corridor and Y/n headed for the stairs. Something was wrong and they were convinced they were going to figure it out.

For once, Y/n didn't take that second glance at Ellie. Rather, she kept her eyes straight on her next steps as she pulled herself to the top. Her hand slipped around the back of her jeans, retrieving her pistol and keeping it close in her grip. There were two rooms upstairs: a spare bedroom and a bathroom. Both of which were clear.

She rushed down from the stairs, swirling from the bannister as she caught sight of Joel by the end bedroom. "You find anything?" She inquired.

His hand left the door, "It's like- like there's something wedged against it." He described as he shook his head before his eyes were drawn back to the door nob.

Y/n turned the corner and found Ellie sitting lazily in one of the dining room chairs. It took her another moment to notice the pieces of paper in her hand. "What's that?" She asked, a worrisome confusion woven throughout her tone.

She held it up, "Letters." Joel swerved around the corner at that moment too, just as confused. She rose one of the papers, "To whoever, but probably Joel." She held up the second paper. "For Y/n, and Y/n only." It didn't take a genius to guess who had written each letter. "They came with this." The girl pushed over a key.

Joel chucked his back off, stepping forward to take the key, while Y/n didn't have it in her to move. "So they're dead?" Ellie nodded.

Y/n may have expected it, but the pain of such still hurt just as much. "What erm- what do the letters say?" She plucked the words from her throat carefully, not wanting to break the tears she was sure were pricking at her eyelids.

Ellie seemed to give the woman a once over, as if concerned she wasn't ready for this. But Y/n never met her eyes so she went on and read the first letter, Frank's letter, the one addressed to Y/n over anyone else. "I do hope you're the one reading this. Before anything else, the wine is yours, I know that was your favourite part about visiting." She would have laughed if she wasn't fearsome that would have brought on her cries. "I want you to know, most of all, I was happy and hopeful. Because of such, I was able to make sure Bill was happy and hopeful. Please make sure that you- you keep Joel the same and make sure he keeps you alive." There came a pause from Ellie in which both Joel and Y/n refused to meet eyes.

"I know you hadn't visited so much recently - I'm going to assume you're busy doing your genius medical needs." Y/n felt her heart sink. She hadn't seen them, well, the last time she had seen them was right before her and Joel separated. And the only reason they had been there was to prescribe Frank a boat-load of drugs. "Or maybe you finally beat the odds and that-" Ellie stuttered over her words, her brows knitted as if she was struggling to read on. "That baby of yours was born healthy into the world-" Ellie looked up and found the woman across from her was staring in an abyss with empty eyes as if a life had been sucked from her. "Baby?"

She huffed, still refusing to look at Joel as she stepped forward, snatching the letter from her hand. "No." One word. One word which echoed through each of them and thickened the air which they were already having trouble breathing in.

Joel had watched as the woman took a seat at the other end of the table, reading over the letter as if it's writing was going to change, as if what happened to her was going change. "Read the other one." The man requested.

Ellie took the second piece of paper, "August 29, 2023. If you find this, please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open in the bedroom so the house wouldn't smell, but it will probably be a sight. I'm guessing you found this, Joel or Y/n, because anyone else would have been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps he-he-he-he-he." Well, it was definitely written by Bill that was for sure. "Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate but in reverse. Anyway, I never liked you. But still, it's like we were friends, almost. And I respect you. So I'm going to tell you something probably the only you will understand."

"I used to hate the world and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving. That's what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep-" She paused, glanced to Joel, then glanced down to continue. "To keep Y/n, your future family and that friend of yours, Te-"

She stopped at that. And as Y/n had done, Joel stepped forward and took the letter for himself. There were wounds in the letters which had yet to heal and rather than help cover them up, the words had only dug them wounds deeper. The room was silent. After hours of non-stop questions and bickering, there was a silence and it was tormenting all of them. Until, shooting through the air, there came a muster of Joel's voice, "Stay here." By the time Y/n looked up, he was already walking away.

He slipped out of the front door while the other two watched from the dinning table. It took a few seconds for Y/n to debate her next move but she ended up standing, and without a word to Ellie, she went right after Joel.

He had walked to the end of the yard, the letter still in his grip as the man attempted to compose himself. That moment was a moment of doubt. Y/n wondered if she had been better staying inside. But all her doubts faded when she spoke, "Joel, I know this isn't easy and I know I'm probabl-"

She had been walking towards him slowly. But once she was close enough, the man turned, tears at his eyes and he crashed into her. Y/n caught him in her arms, holding him close like it was natural. The closest they had been in over a year. Yet, still, it felt memorable as if no time had passed. And Y/n was certain in calling Joel a broken man, she just never expected that now, considering everything, he would break in front of her.

"It's okay, I know." She had soothed into his ear. "I meant what I said Joel, I'm here to help."

It took the man a moment until the wave of emotion passed and he pulled from the girl. His eyes were glossy but his expression was stony. "Thank you." He said. "I know it was never the plan you coming out here with her." He nodded his head towards the house where Ellie was still hidden in. "You took a risk, a big one and now it's changed everything for you."

"As it has you." She responded with a slither of a smile.

Joel didn't voice much in reply to that. Rather, he held up the key he had been given and mumbled something along the lines of: "I'm gonna go-"

And Y/n let him go, "Yeah, yeah." With that, he started walking one way and Y/n went the other.

She wouldn't stop Joel. He was a grown man who would deal how he wished to, but she would always welcome him with open arms when it was needed. She just hoped he had it in him to get through. That thought made Y/n wander back to the letter, to the words Frank had used, to provide happiness and hope for those who lack it.

The second Y/n stepped foot back into the house, Ellie was at her side. There was something bubbling in her eyes, yet something also that was holding her back. "Is he okay?" She started her rampage of questions like so.

"He's fine." She answered as her mind was set on checking each room as her thoughts dwindled together a plan.

"Are you?"

Ellie was right behind her like a puppy. "Yes." She answered though none of her answers had convinced the young girl.

She checked the dining room, then she dipped her head into the kitchen. Everything was as it should be. Well, except for the dusty plates and mouldy food. Which, as Y/n turned from the kitchen, she couldn't stop staring at. "So...what's the plan?" Ellie stopped too.

There came no reply from Y/n. Instead, Ellie watched as she moved abruptly around the table. Her hands collected each of the plates and the glasses and she took them into the kitchen, placing them into the sink to be cleaned. "Your plan's to clean up?" Ellie observed as the woman stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. Her eyes were empty and, truth was, she didn't know what she was doing.

The front door swung open and the two turned. Joel noted the wide eyes on Y/n first and the fear which seemed speckled between her pupils. Once he looked away, he spoke, "I just finished making the truck battery, its charging right now." He informed.

"How long will that take?" Y/n inquired.

He shrugged, "A good few hours."

"Okay then, I propose we stay here for the night." Y/n suggested. "We're all tired. There's the spare bedroom upstairs. Hot water. We can have a shower finally, get changed."

"Leave in the morning?" Joel asked and Y/n nodded.

"Where will we go?" Ellie questioned.

Y/n glanced to Joel to answer that, "I have a brother out in Wyoming. He's in some kind of trouble and I'm heading out there to find him. He used to be a firefly. My guess is he knows where some of them are out there. Maybe they can get you to wherever this lab is." He explained as their new plan came together.

"Alright." Ellie acknowledged. A few seconds passed before the girl opened her lips once more, "Listen about the letters, I just want you to-"

Joel was the one who cut her off, "If you're coming with us, there's some rules you gotta follow. Rule one: you don't bring up anything about them letters, not Tess, not the baby. Nothing." Y/n felt her stomach drop at the mention of it but didn't add to Joel's words as the man continued on. "As a matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves. Rule two: you don't tell anyone about your...condition. They see that bite mark, they won't think it through, they will just shoot you. Rule three: you do what we say, when we say it. We clear?"

Had Y/n been in any better mood, she might have requested Joel toned it down. But with everything they had just gone through in the last 24 hours, she kept quiet. "Yes." Ellie replied.

"Repeat it." Demanded Joel.

"What you say goes."

A silence passed. Broken when Y/n stepped forward, putting a smile to her lips. "Well, I call dibs on a shower first." She announced.

She was already walking towards the stairs as Joel spoke in reply, "I'll check the basement, see what we can take." Y/n hummed in agreement.

And there came no surprise when Ellie beamed, "Can I come?" Y/n was at the stairs by that point, hearing the deep sound of Joel's sigh which had urged a smile to her lips.

A shower was much needed - especially a hot one. If Y/n was so inclined, she could pretend that everything was fine. That with her eyes shut, there was no danger, there were no worries. She wondered if Bill and Frank lived their lives like that every day. She also wondered if there would ever come a time when she could live her life like that. Maybe if Ellie weren't such a crucial player in a could-be-cure, she would suggest they never left this place of sanctuary.

She stepped out from the shower not long after she got in, uncertain of how much hot water they had. Wrapping a towel around her body, she stepped out, words already leaving her lips before she realised what she had stepped into, "Shower's fre-"

Y/n glanced up, her eyes just as wide as Joel's who was carrying some pillows downstairs. "Shit, sorry, I didn't know you were out here." She rambled out an apology.

"It's fine." He replied, his eyes seeming to jump from place to place, not wanting to linger in one place for too long. "I was just erm," He raised the pillow in her hand, "Thought that at least one of us are going to end up sleeping on the couch so."

Her head nodded, "Right, yeah."

"I just figured that Ellie should-"

At the same time, they both agreed, "Should have the bed." An awkward chuckle came from them both before silence followed.

An equally awkward silence which could only be broken by a certain teenage girl. "Oh, is the shower free?" Ellie questioned. "I get dibs on going in next!" She exclaimed as she climbed up the stairs. As she passed Joel, she patted his shoulder, "And then it's your turn buddy because yeesh." She made a disgusted expression before wandering into the bathroom.

Just as quickly as she came and broke the silence, it came rushing back once again. Y/n gestured her head to the room passed Joel which she was heading for, "I'm just gonna go and-"

He jumped out of the way, "Sorry, yeah, course." He mumbled before they got passed each other and Y/n escaped into the spare bedroom.

Maybe it was the abruptness of seeing each other in such a domestic state. As well as the fact that Y/n had such thin material between Joel and complete exposure. Either way, it had done well to make them both flush a nice pink as they tried to sway their minds back to current matters.

Within a few hours, Y/n and Ellie had a change of clothes on as Joel took the last shower of the night. The young girl had climbed into the bed first, curled beneath the warmth of sheets and blankets they hadn't had the privilege of for a while now. Y/n was watching her from the door way, leaning aginst it as a smile covered her lips.

"Comfy?" She asked once Ellie stopped tossing and turning.

"Much so." She said, mockingly.

"And you're sure you'll be alright here?" Her tone was suddenly concerning, her need to protect Ellie taking over. "Me and Joel will just be downstairs."

"I'll scream if there's an infected in my room." She joked with a straight face.

"There's nothing to be worried about here." Y/n assured. "Nothing's getting through that fence." Bill had certainly made sure of it.

Y/n hadn't noted Joel's entrance until his figure was standing right next to her. Fresh clothes, his hair slicked back and no lingering survival smell. "What's that?" The man questioned ever so casually as if Y/n's eyes weren't dancing over his new appearance.

"Y/n is worried I'm going to die." Ellie's voice broke the girl from her stare as she peered back over at her.

Her head tilted and a smirk drew at her expression, "Why else do you think you're still alive, huh?"

"Probably because I'm immune."

"Alright, I think it's time you sleep," Joel announced, flicking the light switch off.

Ellie continued to glare at them through the light which illuminated from the hallway. "You two are weird." The young girl stated.

Though, they simply shook their heads, turned and shut the door on their way out. "We're the weird ones?" Joel whispered to her as they headed downstairs. Y/n could only offer a shrug in reply as they walked to the bottom floor.

Joel had made two make-shift beds in Frank's painting room. One on the couch, the other on the floor. He'd already convinced Y/n to take the couch - despite her arguments against such. The thought of how little sleep the man had gotten the night before still loomed over her mind, but she struggled to argue against Joel. He always had a way of convincing her.

When Y/n wandered into the room, Joel was tidying up some of the blankets. He didn't look up until she spoke. Leant against the doorway, her hair tied up and an unopened bottle of wine hanging from her grip. "I've already shoved some in the boxes were taking, but thought it'd be a nice way to end the night."

"You sure that's a good idea?" He questioned with one raised brow. "Don't want you complaining about a headache all day tomorrow."

She took that as a yes anyway, walking further into the room, sitting cross-legged in front of a coffee table. She laid out two glasses as she responded to Joel, "It's a very good idea." She poured one glass and pushed it over as it sat in front of Joel. But he didn't reach for it. Not until the woman had gone on, "Trust me, we deserve a night off." With that, he took it, taking a long sip.

Y/n attempted to conceal the smile which painted her lips as she poured her own glass. It reminded her too much off the past. Neither of them had experienced these tranquil moments for a long time, for years. And, honestly, it was a feeling they had both yearned for again. "Do you ever think about it?" That feeling seemed to be pushing Joel on as he walked into uncharted waters.

She raised a brow, keeping her glass in her hand as she shuffled back, leaning against the couch. "About what?"

It took Joel longer than Y/n expected for him to reply. Though, when the words finally escaped from his lips, she came to realise why that was. "The baby?" Her smile dropped. "I mean, do you ever think it could be like this? Somewhere safe, where you could almost forget the world we live in."

She never let her eyes leave the man. There was something haunting written in his pupils. Y/n wasn't sure whether that was the pain of Tess' death which still lingered or whether that was what came to light whenever the memory of what could have been surfaced. "It never would have been like this, Joel." She told him, realistic against this fantasy his imagination had concocted over the years. "FEDRA never would have let me leave the QZ for good, we would have been living in that apartment, waking up neighbours with a screaming baby and it's likely we would have been so worn out we would have ended up hating each other." So, either way in her mind, baby or not, she doubted she and Joel would have stuck through it all.

"That's what you think?" There were remnants of sorrow in his tone. "That we never would have made it anyway?"

Y/n tilted her head, sympathy in her expression like she was facing some naive boy. "Not many couples do. Trust me, I've seen it." She had been subject to multiple couple arguments in the space of her own office.

"But we were different." He interjected before Y/n could continue her words.

"Joel," His name left her lips soft, yet he knew what was to follow wouldn't complement that. "Look at us, we were no different to everyone else. The 'what could have been' broke us. You have the same memories as me. There was no way we were going find a way through that." He was silent in accepting her truth. "Up until now, we could barely look at each. We despised each other and avoided one another like the plague. The only reason we're sat here is because we have a common goal." That goal being the young girl asleep upstairs.

Joel took another long sip from his wine before he gave a reply, "You know for someone who's meant to have hope, you don't sound like you do." She tensed. The thought of hope took her back to the letter and Frank's voice which was now woven strictly throughout her thoughts.

"This isn't about hope, not anymore. It's about closure, Joel. And for me, realising that there was no way we were going to stick together, baby or not, was how I got over it." A huff followed. She re-filled her wine glass and stood, "Stop torturing yourself with the could have been and let yourself get over it. Please, Joel." She seemed to beg, but she doubted that man was at all inclined to listen to what she had to say.

He said nothing more. Instead, the woman turned and wandered out the room. She couldn't have gone on much longer. Just as she had once avoided Joel, she avoided the memory of what could have been. It brought on the same emotional baggage, if not more, and if she thought on it too long, she found herself drowning.

Y/n had sought refuge in the upstairs bathroom. A small, square room with a closed door and a lock. One where she didn't have to look Joel right in the eye and lie about this closure she had said comforted her. Maybe it was wrong to say it, but Y/n hadn't a speck of closure. In fact, when she thought on it, this was the one thing in which she had acted exactly as Joel did. She'd pushed every thought and feeling about it away and locked the box. Whenever it came back up, it came back up overflowing. Like it was now.

She wasn't sure how long she had hauled herself up in the bathroom. Only that she knew she was waiting until her tears stopped falling and her wine glass as empty. By the time she had crept back downstairs, the lights were out. She turned the corner, finding Joel's back turned to her as he laid in the make-shift bed on the floor of the room. Her eyes lingered on his shadow and a part of her wondered if she should say anything. It didn't take her long to realise that was bad idea.

So without any word, any extra movement, she slipped under the blankets of the couch and let sleep take her.

As morning came, they had wasted no time. They had already packed everything into the back of the car the day before. All that they needed now was to grab anything from the road and head for the car. Up until Ellie had wandered downstairs, it had been a quiet morning. Silent, in fact. The voices from the night before still seemed to linger in the air, making it thick and neither Y/n nor Joel were wanting to break that yet.

"And you've got everything you need?" Y/n checked over as they each walked through into the garage.

Ellie was practically skipping towards the car, "For the tenth time, yes." She replied in her teenage-tone as her hand hovered over the driver's door.

"No way." Said Joel, erupting a groan from the young girl. "In the back."

With the roll of her eyes, she followed his instruction and jumped into the back, between the several boxes of supplies. But even then, she leaning forward between Y/n and Joel, her eyes darting over all the enticing buttons she didn't understand. They were lucky the engine wasn't on when she decided to start pushing all the buttons, only enhancing the glee this machine was providing her.

Y/n gazed back at her with raised brows, "First time in a car?"

She nodded but never looked up from the buttons, "Yep. It's like a spaceship."

Y/n took a gentle hold of her hand and pulled it from the radio, "Well, how about you try and not press anything which will cause the car to break down, yeah?" She pulled back a little but her grin never left her face.

"Seatbelt." Joel stated as he and Y/n pulled theirs over their waist, clicking it in.

Ellie, however, was oblivious. "Ellie?" Y/n called as the young girl looked up. "Seatbelt." The woman tugged at her own so the girl knew what she was referring to.

And with knitted brows, she turned, trying to pull her seatbelt over. Only to fail miserably. In the end, Joel leaned over into the back, pulling it over for her. "Oh." She realised as it clicked in. "So cool."

With that, Joel finally started the car. Ellie's scavenging still continued. Though, it was harmless and as she was in the back, was likely to not cause any harm to the car itself. They were half way towards the gate when a sharp gasp came from the girl in the back. Y/n looked to her through the rear-view mirror, relaxing a little when she realised it was just a tape she had found. "Look," The girl said, before leaning over towards the radio.

"Ellie," Joel used his stern voice. Not that it had done anything to stop the young girl.

Instead, she put the tape into the radio and a rather soft-sounding, almost classical song started to play. "Oh no, this is good," Joel changed his mind like the flick of a switch. "This is Linda Ronstadt." He informed, not that the name meant anything to the girl in the back. "Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is?"

"You know I don't know who Linda Ronstadt is." She quipped in return.

The car slowed as they faced the gate. Joel retrieved the small remote that controlled the fence. With the press of a few buttons, it started opening. "It's better than nothing." Ellie finally voiced her opinion. Something of which seemed to have offended Joel - not that he said anything.

With the gate open, Joel drove through. And like that, they were back to normal. Back to the fear of what creatures lurked around them, or what people they may end up surrounded by. The only thing to break Y/n from that thought was the first of many questions she was sure were to come. "So?" Ellie voiced, leaning between the two front seats. "What were you guys talking about last night?"

Y/n felt herself tense, but tried to hide it as best as she were able. "I thought you were listening to the music?" She argued, seemingly enough to prompt the girl back into her seat with a huff.

And rather than silence taking over, they were each comforted by the sounds of Linda Ronstadt.

-

Taglist -  @janikaaaw @berarenado @khaleesihavilliard @fanficfanatic1997 @kitdjarin1 @endurexxsurvive @batgurl42 @karacaroldanvers @luvelyxp @cleocat246 @Shesa-riott @elliejelliee @@luvwanda @hellf1reclub @moshpot24x @f4n-page @loveelisee @peterwandaparker @dreamer7black @takeabreathdeath @monbrat @alexiaricciardo @m-7770 @ambrosiagf @mxxkingdom @fairyboysworld @misspascalpunk @cecilyjmorgenstern @thegirlwiththeumbrellatattoo @corpsebridenightmare @theetherealbloom @mandalorian-firefly @read-write-sleep-startover @lflores2008​ @xmoonknightlyx @ssc0rpi0 @pedr0swh0r3 @memeorydotcom @buggie28 @Littleshadow17 @hobiismyhopeu @pparkeramorr @bootylimpics @missabsey

Join the taglist here

[dokifluffs]

S/O Having a Panic Attack at Night | Nishinoya, Tsukishima, Kuroo

Pairings: Nishinoya X Reader (gender neutral), Tsukishima X Reader (gender neutral), and Kuroo X Reader (gender neutral) 

Genre: comfort fluff 🥺

Request: “hi so um you don't have to do this request if you don't want to but I was wondering if you could do nishinoya's, tsukishima's and kuroo's response to if their s/o woke up in the middle of the night having a panic attack. it would be wonderful if you could do that please but again, you don't have to if you don't want to” - anonnie

Author’s Note: requests do be closed but this was so precious 🥺 i had to do it and also write it for others tehe. Forgive me if these are inaccurate/ not realistic. I did my best to follow medical sites that provided symptoms and how to treat it. I’ve woken up alone with a panic attack before, twice, actually. I was really cold and i wish someone was there for me. 

Warnings! Implications of throwing up in Noya’s! Mentions of death and fear of death in Tsukishima’s and Kuroo’s!  

Nishinoya: ugh ennoshita in this scene 🥺

the entire room felt like it was spinning yet you couldn’t even see the room in the darkness of the night 

You curled up, clenching your jaw shut, unsure if your eyes were even open or not due to the extreme nausea that was consuming you, you had to clamp your hand over your mouth 

you felt sick to your stomach 

You groaned weakly, hoping to wake up Nishinoya who slept so soundly beside you, his snores mixed and slurred together 

“Yu,” you called out to him, feeling so weak as you pushed and nudged him 

“Mmm, what is it?” he groaned sleepily, turning to face your side of the bed, his hand reaching to hold yours 

“..Help,” you pushed out, before clenching your jaw

the word came out muffled but it was enough to make the talented libero wake up immediately 

He scrambled out of his side of the bed to switch on the lights, completely awake now 

You were curled into a ball beneath the covers, eyes squeezed shut, your hand covering your mouth just the slightest bit shaky 

“Y/N!” He stood by your side of the bed, unsure of what to do. “Do you want me to call 911?” he reached for your phone, only stopping before proceeding as you let out a “mm-mm” in response 

instead, you pointed to the bathroom and he wasted no time 

he helped you out of bed, walking beside you with your arm slung around his shoulder, toward the bathroom, switching the light on 

You collapsed to your knees as the bitter taste of your acids in your stomach burned the back of your throat and tongue 

Noya stood behind you, continuously rubbing your back as you did your thing 

Tears pricked at your eyes and trickled down your cheek as bits of your nausea began to disappear 

Noya ran downstairs then back up to your side with water bottles and even some snacks for you to regain your strength 

Concern was evident in his features as his eyes were locked on you as he sat on his legs before you, his brows furrowed 

You wiped your mouth with a wipe before taking a sip of the water, the interesting sensation of your muscles and body absorbing the water as it went down your throat 

“You okay?” he asked, bringing his hand to your forehead, immediately comparing it to his own 

“I guess... for now, Yu,” you sighed, your body felt so empty and drained as you rest your head on his shoulder 

he rest his head on top of yours, hand holding yours with fingers interlocking 

his thumb rubbed the back of your hand in little circles as his mind worked, thinking of all the possibilities of what could have led to this 

but whatever it was, it became more of a side thought 

Noya stayed by your side, the two of you in the bathroom

with his legs crossed, you sat in his lap with your legs wrapped loosely around his waist, his hands constantly stroking your back as he listened to your breathing, making sure you ate and drank some water every now and then before even offering to go back to bed 

Tsukishima: 

Tsukishima stirred in his sleep as another clap of thunder shook the skies and the grounds below

As his eyes fluttered in the darkness, slowly being coaxed back into sleep, there was something else that didn’t let him

He could hear faint whimpering sounds and sniffles and it surely wasn’t from him

He switched on the lamp beside him, turning in bed to find you 

“Y/N,” his voice was gentle yet firm as he cautiously shook your shoulder 

You woke with a loud gasp, now your hands beginning to shake uncontrollably, your heart racing in your chest while also dropping in your chest as your mind was plagued with the fear of dying 

“What’s wrong?” he sat up, helping you when you reached for his hands, not wanting to feel alone as you laid in bed despite him being right there 

“I don’t want to die, Tsuki,” you whimpered, the words coming wobbly from you. “I don’t want to die,” you repeated 

the look you gave him, your lips trembling, eyes red from all the tears as they dripped off your chin and onto his shirt you wore, how you clasped your weakened hands together, shaking as if you were begging him for life 

“I don’t want to be forgotten,” you wheezed, taking quickened, deep breaths, making you shake even more. “Please don’t forget me,” your voice came out no louder than a whisper as you pleaded these words, breaking his heart 

He slowly raised his hand, making sure you saw him do this, observing you carefully before hovering it over your shoulder 

You only watched his hand, nodding before he could even ask for permission 

“I know you don’t want to die,” he wrapped his arms around you. “But you won’t, not for many many more years, Y/N,” he spoke calmly of the truth without making it worse

“You have a whole life ahead of you and we’ve only lived a small percentage of it.” He stroked his hand down your back. “And you won’t be forgotten, no matter what age, you’ll never be forgotten.” He took hold of your hands, feeling how cold your skin was at his touch 

“Really?” You mumbled, your entire body now trembling as if you were freezing 

“I’ll never forget you... and I’ll never let anyone else forget you...” he kept his eyes on your hands, rubbing them to warm you up, to help stop the shakes 

“Kei...” your voice cracked to air as you reached for him to which he let you into his embrace with a warm welcome 

his ears burned bright red, he prayed you didn’t see him like this though he meant his words down to every vowel 

“Shhh... don’t cry anymore. You won’t be dying anytime soon,” your shaky hands clung to the bottom hem of his shirt. “besides, it’ll be hard to forget the little munchkin that’s always beside me at this point,” he teased 

now this sounded very much like the tsukishima you knew very well 

hearing his teasing now as he looked at your face, snatching a few tissues for you to fry your eyes and blow your nose - it was a big weight off your chest 

“hey,” you laughed as you blew your nose, your eyes red and puffed up from all your cries, the constant shakes you once had slowly dissipating away to nothing 

“arara gomen~ did I hurt the little one’s feelings?” he ruffled your already disheveled hair, patting your head, trying to keep the mood light 

turning off the lamp light, the house, the room was enclosed in the storm as rain pelted down from the heavens 

His body was curled up behind yours, your back to his chest as he held you close, staying awake without saying a word until you fell asleep and stayed asleep 

He hoped he didn’t have to see you so afraid 

Kuroo: 

"T-Tetsu...” you shakily called to him, reaching out to his form beside you as he slept with his head pressed between two pillows clamped to his head 

“Tetsu,” your voice was no louder than a mouse as you called to him, pleading with everything as you called his name, hoping he could hear you 

You clenched your jaw at the squeezing feeling in your chest, how fast your heart was racing, the pins and needles prickling in your hands and feet - it terrified you 

“Mmm, what, what is it?” His hand reached naturally toward the lamp and switched it on with one of his eyes barely open, the other squeezed shut as he squinted to you in the sudden bright room 

“My... chest... hurts,” you held your hands over your chest, your body curled into a ball 

He was much more awake now 

“I’m scared, am I dying?” Your entire body froze, goosebumps rising all over your skin, the blanket that covered you provided no warmth at all 

“Hey, you’re not dying,” his voice was much softer than his normal voice as he scooped you up, holding your body close against his bare skin. “Shh, take deep breaths with me, okay? Your heart’s beating too fast.” 

His hand over your chest, over your heart was so warm, you didn’t want him to move it 

“The room’s... spinning...” Color faded from your face as your head bumped into his shoulder as he held you close, sitting cross legged on the mattress 

“Deep breaths, now, take it easy,” he spoke softly, guiding you as your breaths came out shakier than the last 

“You’re okay, you’re not dying. We’re at home, in our room. Nothing can hurt you, baby,” he rest his cheek on the top of your head, your bodies together rocking side to side just the slightest 

You did as you were told, following Kuroo’s breathing, his gaze never leaving yours

“That’s it, Y/N, just like that,” Kuroo’s voice melted in your ears, relief washing over him as he could see your breathing stabilizing bit by bit as time went on, your heart rate gradually slowing down 

His solace became your foundation of reality, grounding you back down, tethering control on your life and everything around you back in your hands 

he stayed awake, holding you close, not even thinking about moving an inch to lay back down to sleep until you were okay - verbally, physically, emotionally 

Yawns fell from his mouth one after the other, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down to you, your hands holding his to your chest as you slept in his lap like a giant infant 

but he paid no mind 

this was what it meant for him to care for you and he was more than willing to lose sleep if it meant you were okay  

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04​  @fortheloveofbakugo​ @tsumtsumsemi​ @osamuonigiri @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci​ @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi​ @pink-panda-pancakes​ @differentballooncollection​ @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction​ @euphorihan@turquoiselace​ @macaronnv  @oxmaddy​​ @mrkoala4prsdnt​​ @curiouslilbeast​ @plantisnotplant@therestless101​ @abcdaichi​ @oyasenpai​ @kaaidalupita​

[stellarstarwarsimagines]

Surprises

Pairing - Din Djarin x Reader

Summary - After loosing the Razor Crest, Grogu, and the Dark Saber coming into Din’s possession, you’re not sure either of you can handle another surprise being thrown your way. 

Word Count - 1.7k

Warnings - Pregnancy

The first time it had happened, you thought something had made you ill. After all, it wasn’t as if you and Din had the best sources of food at your disposal. There had been a couple of times when something had upset your stomach. 

The second time, you had assumed it was leftover from the first. 

When you continued to be sick the next day, a sneaking suspicion had entered your mind. 

The two of you were stationed at Nevarro until you figured out what to do. You no longer had Grogu to watch out for, or a ship to fly in, and you had the dark saber to contend with now. The truth was though, you both needed a break. Too much had happened too quickly, and you both needed time to sort through it all, and the safest place to do that was Nevarro. After all, you had friends there. 

One in particular whose help you were going to need now. 

“Karga. I need you to take me to the best medical droid you have around here.” You told him, barging into his little office like you were on a mission. 

It was clear that he was surprised, but intrigued by your outburst. “Why? What’s going on?” He asked, filing the papers he was looking at away to focus on you. 

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to jinx it and end up looking stupid in the end, but you also knew Karga wasn’t going to help you out unless he had the story. Letting out a sigh, you crossed your arms over your chest, glancing around the room to make sure you couldn’t be overheard before answering him. “This doesn’t leave this room.” You demanded. 

Karga nodded, looking even more intrigued. 

“ . . . I think I might be pregnant.” 

To your surprise, Greef didn’t look the least bit shocked. In fact, he almost looked . . . smug, leaning back against his chair with a little smirk. “I knew you two were together.” He said. 

“Karga!” 

____________________

You hated being probed by droids. Them taking your blood was one of your least favorite things in the galaxy. There was something about seeing your blood that made you feel dizzy, anyone else’s was fine, but your own? You closed your eyes, biting your lip and waving the droid off as it asked you if you were okay. 

The test didn’t take long. The droid put your blood under a microscope and within moments, it had confirmed your suspicions. 

Pregnant. Eight weeks. 

You slumped against the back of the chair, a dozen different emotions all washing through you at the same time. It was like you two couldn’t catch a break. You were exhausted trying to keep up with all the new things that life was throwing at you, and this was another one to add to the list. You were angry at yourself for not being more careful, anxious because you weren’t sure how Din was going to react to this news. You were sure that Din was going to be a great father, how could you not be after seeing all that he had done with Grogu? But a little voice in the back of your mind wondered if this would be the breaking point. Would he be able to handle another life changing thing on top of everything else? Would he push you aside knowing that it was too much to take on? 

On the other side of your mind though, another little voice spoke up, reminding you that you were now carrying the love of your life’s child, and if everything went okay, you would now always have a piece of him, no matter what happened in the future. 

You couldn’t help but be a little happy about that. 

____________________

Still in a daze, you walked back to the little inn where you and Din had been staying, opening the door to find him sitting there with two bowls of food, waiting on you. 

The sight of him without his helmet was jarring even now. After seeing only the briefest flashes of chin for so long, it always startled you for a moment to see all of that handsome, gorgeous face whenever you did. So you always liked to take a minute to observe it, committing it to memory with a soft sigh.

As soon as he heard you, he stood up, and you were once again struck with how awkward he seemed to move without all the beskar weighing him down. “I - uh - I got us lunch.” 

You smiled at the gesture, but it seemed to be a weak one, because Din’s expression turned to concern almost at once. It was funny, how before you had never been able to tell what he was thinking or feeling, but now it was so easy. You weren’t even sure he knew how expressive those dark brown eyes were. 

He stepped towards you, his warm hand cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch at once, enjoying the comfort it brought. “Are you all right cyar’ika?” 

His voice was so soft. Softer than it could ever sound coming through his helmet, and you melted at the sound of it. “I think that’s going to depend on you my kar’ta.” You replied, turning your head and closing your eyes to press a kiss against his calloused palm. 

His brow raised in confusion, but at that moment, you caught a whiff of the lunch that Din had brought the two of you. Your eyes widened, and you covered your mouth as a wave of nausea hit you like a blaster shot. You ran into the bathroom, hoping he wouldn’t follow you, but of course he did, holding your hair back as you vomited up the contents of your breakfast. 

“Here, just keep breathing.” He murmured, transferring your hair to one hand so he could stroke your back with the other. “It’ll be okay. Better out than in.” 

Would it be okay? 

Once you were done, you sat down, leaning your back against the wall and watching as he got you a cup of water and a towel. You took them from him gratefully, sipping slowly as to not upset your stomach once more. “Do you think it’s something you ate?” Din asked after a few moments. 

You shook your head, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths, the nerves of what you knew you were about to have to tell him making it worse. “No, I know it’s not that.” 

“You know?” He repeated, taking the glass from your hands and setting it aside. 

“It’s morning sickness.” You admitted with a little sigh. 

“But it’s the afternoon -”

“Din,” You opened your eyes, finding his confused ones staring back at you. “I’m pregnant.” 

You waited for him to say something, anything at all. You wouldn’t be sure how to feel about this until he did. Instead he fell backwards onto his ass, as if your words had knocked him over. The silence was deafening, and you could feel your heartbeat picking up at the implication of it. 

Would he leave you because of this? “I - I know the timing’s terrible, if you don’t want any part of it, I - I could go.” You suggested. It would break your heart into a thousand pieces, but you could do it for this baby, because the longer you sat there, the more you realized how much you wanted it. No matter how bad the timing was. 

Din kept his gaze on the floor, running a hand through his hair. Your fingers were twitching against your legs, and you . . . you wished he would look at you. If he would look at you, you would have a better sense of what he was feeling and then maybe . . . 

Maybe you could decide if this was a good thing or not. 

Finally, when it felt like years since you had taken a breath, he spoke. “I don’t want you to go.” He said, his voice filled with emotion even as he stared at your feet. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did though. It’s not like this is the best place for a child. We’ve learned that.” He reached out for your hand, stilling your fingers. “If you go, I would make sure you and the child were taken care of. I could send credits -”

“Woah, wait -” You interrupted, shocked at the turn the conversation had taken. “I don’t want to go anywhere. Not without you. I just knew you had so much on your plate already. A baby on top of that . . .” You broke off, glancing down at your own stomach. 

“It’s a lot.” He admitted, and this time when you looked at him, he was looking at you too. Those captivating dark brown eyes were watching you so carefully, and you were sure he was looking for your response, the same way you had been looking for his. 

So you let a little smile settle on your lips, getting on your knees to scoot closer to him, “but we’ve already been doing the parenting thing . . . not with a human, but same concept, right?” You asked. 

A small twinkle appeared in Din’s eyes that made your smile widen. “Might even be easier, since he won’t be able to move things with his mind.” 

“He, huh?” You said as Din pulled you into his lap. “How do you know that?” You asked, slipping your arms around his neck to keep him close. 

“Intuition.” He replied, and you closed your eyes as he pressed a delicate kiss to your chin, lingering there for a moment before speaking again. “I want this if you do, cyar’ika.” Din whispered against your skin. 

“Even with everything else going on?” You whispered, opening your eyes again when you felt his nose brush against yours. You wanted to believe that he wanted this baby with you, and the hint of excitement you spotted in his eyes made you think he did, but you needed to be sure. 

Din’s hand rubbed across your back as he nodded. “Despite everything going on.” His tone turned more serious as he put some distance between the two of you so he could stare into your eyes, removing your arms from his neck so he could take them in his own. “I swear, no matter what else comes our way, I vow to protect you and our child until my last breath.” 

His words, spoken with such conviction and assurance made tears sting behind your eyes. Warmth filled your whole body as you squeezed his hands tight, hoping your eyes were showing how much his vow meant to you. “Then let’s have a baby Din Djarin.”

[theseshipsshallsail]

Chapter 1

The revelry from the bookstore leaves a heady buzz of la libertà flowing through their veins, and as the crescent moon climbs higher in a pin-pricked sky, Rome’s labyrinthine streets bear witness to the loss of their remaining inhibitions. Drunken kisses give way to drunken dancing - and unfortunate drunken vomiting - but the ancient cobbles are their compass on this ferragosto evening, steering them back to the complicit safety of their hotel. 

The stale scent of sex still lingers in the room, yet tempted as they are to add to it, the prospect of their imminent separation is a sobering force. Elio’s body is heavy with exhaustion. The oppressive tightness in his chest magnified by all that he’s trying to ignore. Their time is borrowed. Soon, all of this will be naught but memory. The man beside him nothing but a ghost. Haunting his every step with visions of a life denied. A future obfuscated by what-ifs and maybes.   

He refuses to sleep, however. Refuses to sacrifice a single minute to unconsciousness in spite of the grappa’s siren call. Absurd though it is, a part of him dreads waking up alone. That Oliver will disappear like a thief in the night - taking what’s left of his shattered heart with him. His guards are down - all his pretences stripped away - but here they are, stretched out on a too-small bed, solemn fingers caressing familiar skin. Worshipping each other by words, if not by the flesh. 

And it isn’t easy. Of course it isn’t. Elio’s an individuo reservato. A trait he’s uncomfortably aware of. But he can’t let that stop him from spilling his innermost thoughts. From divulging the things he wishes he’d done differently. Or not at all. In some aspects, he’s sure he’s repeating himself, but there’s just so much he needs Oliver to hear. Things he never dared tell him previously - never deemed vital - when the end of their summer idyll was a nebulous concept.  

Like how he’d leave the adjoining door open at night, hoping beyond hope that Oliver would walk through it. Or that afternoon at the tennis courts, when he’d recoiled from his massage for fear of leaning into the frisson of excitement. Needs him to understand his visceral reaction the morning after they first slept together. The crippling anxiety that twisted his intentions, necessitating a hasty - if short-lived - retreat. Wants to beg him not to forget. To remember everything. So that when next he tastes the salt-tang of the ocean upon his lips, the sweetness of apricot juice beneath a cloudless yonder, a piece of Elio - nevermind how fleeting - will slip into that parallel life, too.

All his secrets. 

All his worries. 

All he’s put off for later. 

A futile notion, admittedly, now that there is no later. 

No more chance for postponement. 

Thankfully, he isn’t the only one speaking, and Oliver lays his own regrets out like a hand of cards whenever he stumbles into a tongue-tied silence. His forearm is slung around his waist, their legs tangled at the knees, and Elio drowns in his eyes as he recalls the steely glares that once pierced him to the core, but which he now appreciates were a means of self-defence. An attempt to stave off the unavoidable.

“Did you mean it?” he whispers, twisting Oliver’s Star of David between his fingertips as he burrows into the sticky warmth of his neck. “When you said you’d been happy here?”

“How can you even ask me that?” 

“How can I not?” Elio replies, failing to control the tremor in his voice. “You tried to keep your distance when you arrived. It was me who sought you out. If I hadn’t pushed so hard -”

“I’d have probably spent ten more days kicking myself for my cowardice,” Oliver tells him, dropping kisses to his knuckles as though they’re something to be cherished. “Wearing holes in my espadrilles… trying to hide a semi each time you passed by in those swim trunks...”

Elio snorts. “The feeling’s mutual, mon ami.”

“So we’re both idiots, then?”

“Well… one of us was being purposefully difficult...”

“Goose,” Oliver growls, and Elio giggles despite himself when he’s tickled without mercy. “I’ll show you purposefully difficult.”

It soon devolves into a childish wrestling match, Elio’s wrists pinned above him as Oliver scrabbles along his sides, leaving him bow-taut and winded. “Tutto apposto! Enough!”

“You give?”

“I give,” he says, lungs heaving in his chest. “Dio… I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Nonsense.” Oliver rolls to the side, tipping his chin up to better meet his eyes. ”This is new to us both. It’s only natural to have doubts.”

Elio huffs. “Doubt is the father of inventions.”

“And may I ask what you’re inventing?”

An awkward shrug. “Nothing,” Elio says, afraid his misgivings will lead them down a destructive path. “And everything. You know how my brain works.”

“I do, yes.” Oliver brushes a thumb over his bottom lip. “Though for my sins, I’ve yet to find cause for complaint.”

“Déviant.” 

“Takes one to know one.”

Elio nips at the tormenting digit, not quite ready to let the subject go. “I want to hear it,” he murmurs, teeth scraping the nail. “I think I need to hear it.”

“Elio…”

“Just tell me,” he insists, and sighing, Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” 

Impatience flares at the return of his evasiveness, and the remorse in Oliver’s gaze is immediate. “We never talked much about my family, did we?” he asks, and Elio shakes his head, shuffling closer as Oliver draws a shuddering breath. “My parents, they’re.... well. To describe them as traditional would be a kindness,” he continues. “Our relationship has been strained for years, but they have certain... expectations, I suppose. For my future, specifically. You know how it is.”

“Do I?” Elio asks, stiffening as I'm sure I'll pay for it somehow echoed from the not so distant past. 

The implication is clear, and maybe there are razor blades in his expression, because Oliver’s own turns instantly apologetic. “I guess not,” he says, sliding a conciliatory hand to his hip. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

Elio frowns. “In what way?”

“With your folks,” Oliver explains. “My father would cart me off to a correctional facility.” A beat. “He still might.” 

“Only if he finds out,” his traitorous mouth blurts before his alleged genius can catch up, and Elio’s heart sinks. “But he won’t, will he?”

It’s less a question, more a statement, and Oliver’s jaw clenches as he stares at him in silent concession. “I wish things could be different.”

“I know,” Elio says, the words braver than the sentiment behind them. “Me too.”  

But the universe isn’t that lenient. Like Icarus, they’ve flown too near to the sun, and the consequences of such defiance will see their wings clipped once they crash back down to earth. He’d cautioned himself on the journey south to prepare for the blow. Peered out the grimy window of the direttissimo, knowing that when he next stands on the platform he’ll be alone. That he’ll hate it. Those rehearsals, it seems, have done little to dull the pain of what’s to come, and latent superstition has left him fumbling in the dark, regardless.

“E’ la vita,” Elio says, resorting to self-preservation as he dredges up a smile - the over-bright, false one he’s perfected through years of dinner drudgery. “Why risk it all for a bit of fun, right?”

“Don’t do that.” Apparently Elio’s not the only one who can see through a facade. “You mean more to me than some fling, and you know it.”

“But -” 

“No. Hear me out.” Earnest, Oliver smooths the hair from Elio’s temple. “These past six weeks… I don’t know how to describe how important they were to me. The freedom. The acceptance.” His throat bobs in the grey strokes of dawn. “You.”

“Me?” 

“Us.” Oliver fidgets with a loose thread on Elio’s shirt. “I meant it,” he mutters at last, winding an errant curl around the index finger of his other hand. “I have been happy here. I’ve been happy with you.” He hesitates. A quick flash of indecision. “I’m not sure I was ever really happy before you.” 

“Please don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Per carità! That only makes it worse,” Elio says, whirling away to hide in Oliver’s collar. The sour musk of sweat is soaked into the material, and he inhales deeply, hoarding every piece of him while he still can. “You are the very best parts of me,” he confesses, lifting his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do when -”

“Hey…” Oliver’s grip tightens. “Didn’t we go over this? You’ll be -”

“Fine. You said.”

“Clearly it bears repeating.” 

Elio touches his face. Watches the ripples of emotion spread out like a pebble cast into the lake. “And you?” he returns, recollecting that night on the rock. His naivety in presuming Oliver’s ghost wouldn’t always be staring out at the horizon. Rodin’s Thinker clad in billowy cotton. “You’ll be okay?”

A breath. “I’ll be okay.”

Elio’s not sure which of them he’s trying to convince, so he kisses him gently in lieu of examining it further, his stomach flipping when Oliver pulls back with an air of exquisite softness. “What time do we need to be at the airport?” he asks, seeking sanctuary in distraction. “You have your passport, sì?”

“I do,” Oliver says, studying him carefully. “The plane leaves at noon. But don’t feel you have to -” He stops. Swallows. Tries again. “You don’t have to see me off. Not if you don’t want -”

“I want.”

“Elio -”

“Non essere ridicolo. I’m coming,” he tells him, fighting a shiver as the cool breeze from the window brings goosebumps to his skin. “Of course I’m coming.” 

The relentless tick of the clock rings loud in the sudden silence, and Elio raises up on his elbow, only for Oliver to cup his cheek before he can turn towards the wall. 

“Don’t look,” he whispers, sounding choked as he double checks the time on his watch. “It’s ten minutes fast at any rate.”

“Ten minutes?” Elio laughs. Slightly unhinged. “What difference does that make? Ten? Twenty? You still have to leave.”

He detests the unspoken word that hovers between them. The entire phrase a sullen admission of weakness: you still have to leave me.

“Don’t think of it like that,” Oliver murmurs, one hand stroking the base of his spine. ”We have a few hours yet.” 

Elio sniffs. “Not like they’ll matter tomorrow.”

“Maybe not. But they matter right now.” Oliver nudges their foreheads together. “Every second, Elio.” 

“Every second, Elio,” he echoes numbly, if only to call him by his name one last time.

He’s shaking, he realises, though in all honesty he doesn’t care that his vulnerabilities are on display. That Oliver can see how lost in him he really is. That the situation is gutting him, and he’s unable to stop the bleeding. His chest feels concave. The space below his ribs too small to contain the sheer need and protectiveness that washes through him. He wants to shelter Oliver from the storm that lies ahead. To house him beneath his breast where the burdens of this world cannot touch him. Encapsulate everything Oliver is within the confines of himself, meagre as those confines might be.

But what can he do? Implore him to stay? Ask him to give up his doctorate? His career? His responsibilities? And for what? A life in the shadows? Always looking over their shoulders. Always that sense of shame.

He thinks of the pink and yellow lilies that bloom in the giardino back in B. The delicate petals that unfurl for such a brief period of time. There’s something recherché, he knows, in such transitory beauty, yet Elio’s never lacked for stubbornness. Oliver may believe his story is already written - that their destiny is forged in stone - but no one’s ever survived a freefall by continuing to spiral. 

For something so tragically temporary, their bond has left a permanent mark. And Elio? He wants to beat his fists against this odious ending until they’re bloodied and raw.

[shreddedparchment]

Tamales and Christmas Lights

12/21/2020

Pairing: Steve x Mexican American Reader          Word Count: 6,838

Warnings: light smut, talks of having kids, language, drinking

A/N: This is the first time I have ever written anything for a specific type of reader. I don’t usually write for a specific race or ethnicity because I can’t speak as to the intimacy of living in that person’s shoes. By this I mean more of a family life. I’m eager to learn but for now, I will write what I know and that is a reader of my own background. I hope I don’t alienate anyone too much and that you all enjoy the story for what it is. There is a bit of Spanish in this one, but so long as you read all of the dialogue what is said is explained in English shortly after. Anyway, I’m SUPER nervous about this one, and it’s a little on the short side but I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for your support! xoxo

“What do you do for the Holidays?”

Steve stiffens for a moment beneath you, bringing your gaze up to his sleepy face.

It’s so late and he’d only just got in an hour ago. Probably on the verge of sleep when you’d asked your quests.

“What?” There’s stress in his eyes and you’re sorry to interrupt the peace of the moment.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He rubs your shoulder, large hands trying to coax you back down onto his chest where you’d been laying with your head cradled underneath his chin.

“You’re lying. And you haven’t answered my question.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head, “Nothing. That’s what I do for the Holidays. I don’t do anything. I should probably change that since Buck is finally back. But I think I overheard Sam making plans to drag him to some party and I’m not up for that.”

“Oh…” You deflate, laying your head back on his chest but he notices the disappointment in your voice and he pushes you up again.

When you don’t move, he forces himself up, pulling back until he can rest against the headboard of your bed. You’re also made to sit up but Steve leans forward to guide you close to his body so that you’re practically straddling him.

“What did you have in mind? That wasn’t an empty oh.” He notices.

You shake your head, suddenly terrified to bring it up.

“Come on, baby, don’t leave me wondering. I’ll assume the worst.” He reminds you.

You smile, appreciating the way he reaches up to grab your chin and give your head a little shake. You probably shouldn’t like it but you love the way he makes these small gestures of possessiveness over you.

There’s something feral within you that purrs into submission when he claims you so openly. You’re his. Heart and soul. He knows it already even though it’s only been a few months of being together.

You fist his white shirt, wrinkling it as you pull him closer and kiss him sweetly despite the aggression in your hands.

There’s just something about him that makes you want to just squeeze him! Like that feeling you get when you see a tiny puppy or kitty and you just wanna hug it and squeeze it and love it to death.

He huffs a small laugh at your reaction, though he doesn’t understand it.

“What was that for?”

You lick your lips, kissing him once more before leaning back and releasing his poor shirt.

“You know you’re mine, right?” You ask him, eyes fixed on his pretty face.

You’re not a fan of the bruising around his left cheekbone, but the rest of him is just as perfect as ever.

“And you’re mine,” he assures you. “And if anyone tries to take you away…”

The implications are tantalizing but you don’t linger there. You laugh and shake your head, turning to the windows of his room to watch the heavy snowfall.

It’s freezing outside. It makes you shiver and you pull yourself closer to Steve, wrapping your arms around him by hooking them underneath his own. You ball yourself up in his lap as best you can and rest your head against his chest again as his own arms come back around you, large hands splayed out on your back as he rubs it to give you warmth and comfort.

“Why did you ask me about the holidays, babe?” he presses.

“I want to take you home with me,” that’s the truth. “My grandma has been asking me when I’m going to get married and maybe if they see I have a big strong boyfriend she and the rest of my aunts will leave me alone.”

Steve huffs another laugh, “Are they seriously asking you when you’re getting married?”

“Yeah,” with a nod, you push up again despite being completely at peace in Steve’s arms. “They’ve been asking since I graduated high school.”

“That’s odd,” he observes and you can see how it might be to others. “It’s always been like that in my family. My grandma got married when she was seventeen. Same for my mom. Had kids pretty quickly too. So, they’re kinda waiting for me to do the same. Because getting married and having kids is what I’m supposed to do.”

“Do you want to get married and have kids?” Steve’s hands stroke your hips, a small movement of passive affection.

He’s eager to give you all the touch you want in private but you know to keep things a little more tame in front of others. Steve isn’t big into the P.D.A.

“Eventually I guess. I don’t know. It’s not a question I feel like I need to answer right now. I’m a little more sure about the marriage than the kids but I’ve got lots of time to think about it.” you shrug.

“Yeah, we’ve got lots of time,” he asserts and your heart shoots into your throat, stomach twisting with fluttering wings that make it feel like you’re doing somersaults.

“We?” you smile, despite yourself.

“I wanna marry you eventually, I thought you knew that?”

“No,” you laugh.

“Oh, well now you know.”

“You can’t just spring that on me, Steve!”

He laughs now, hooking his hands behind your knees and yanks you closer. You’re right on him, and as you settle, you feel a familiar stirring between your bodies as the exhaustion of the mission wears off and his eagerness to show you how much he missed you becomes obvious.

“I think I just did,” he teases. “If you want to take me to meet your family, I am more than happy to come along. We have been together almost a year, it’s about time I think.”

“A year?” you gasp, realizing that it hasn’t been a few months after all.

Time with Steve is so much like a dream that it feels like it’s passed in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, we hooked up in that closet off the shooting range on New Year’s Eve, remember?”

“Okay, first of all, hooked up? You’re spending too much time with Sam and Bucky.”

Your face heats up, neck burning and ears probably hot to the touch as the memory of you half drunk finding Steve alone in that shooting range.

You’d confessed recklessly and Steve had practically tackled you into the wall when he’d realized you were serious, despite being tipsy.

The frenzy that had followed that first kiss had been uncontrollable and he’d maneuvered you both into the bathroom and then pounded into you with you pinned between him and the counter.

You can still remember the shock of cold smooth concrete under your naked butt.

The next day, Steve had sought you out to tell you that he liked you too and that he wanted to take you out properly and that he was sorry for letting himself get out of hand the night before.

You responded by accepting his invitation but then luring him into your bedroom to ride him until he was breathless and groaning with satisfaction and you were twitching from reaching a third climax.

Your love with Steve has always been rooted in a very physical connection but over time, the emotional depth has increased exponentially and you’re best friends now, as well as lovers.

Now he’s here, remind you of that very beginning and telling you that it’s time to meet your family?

“You don’t have to go, Steve. My grandma will probably ask you a million questions and the rest of my family will be just as nosy and loud. We can get kind of rowdy when we get all together.”

The last thing you want to do is chas him off with an overbearing family, but at the same time...you love them! If he’s going to be in your life, he needs to accept them too, right?

What if he can’t? What will that mean for the two of you?

“Growing up it was just me and my mom,” Steve explains, stroking the length of your arms. “A big family is just what I need, I think.”

You watch him as he leans forward, his lips finding that stupid spot on your neck that always makes you melt.

As his tongue darts out, tracing a small circle, you absolutely collapse against him, arms wrapping up around his shoulders loosely, eyes very slightly rolling into the back of your head.

“Are you sure?”

“So sure,” he whispers, the heat of his breath raising goosebumps on your skin.

He pulls you down against his stiffened cock and you moan as he throws you back onto the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Steve urges, reaching over to place his hand in yours so that you can stop pulling and tugging at your own fingers.

“I’m nervous,” you admit, staring at the peach colored house with bright red trimming around every window and the bright red doorway. It’s absolutely covered in lights, twinkling in different colors. Traditional tiny lights but then around the tree in the front yard are huge bulbs, green, blue, yellow, and red.

They’re novelty lights? You’re not sure if that’s what they are, but you find them silly. Your grandpa’s idea probably.

Your grandmother’s house hasn’t changed one bit since you were little. The only thing that changes are the cars parked along the street, the large rose bushes along the front porch are bare.

Several green hard plastic chairs line the front wall angled oddly as someone had most likely been sitting there last night. Aunts and uncles, your mom and dad probably talking late into the night.

Even sitting in the car, with the engine idling, doors shut tight, you can already hear one of your aunts laughing her head off inside the house. The shouts of kids playing also reach your very normal ears. Steve must be able to hear everything.

“Do you think they won’t like me?” Steve worries, and now it’s your turn to turn and soothe his nerves.

“Oh, no, Steve. That’s not why. I know they’ll love you. I’m just afraid of what they’ll say. Or that they’ll smother you. I haven’t exactly told anyone in my family that I’m dating anyone much less…”

The two of you never talk about his official title. Who he is. Even though he’s retired in many ways, he’s still the first. Sam might be Captain America now, but everyone knows Steve as the original Captain America. There isn’t a person on this planet that doesn’t know who he is.

Normally, it doesn’t matter. To you, he’s just Steve Rogers. Super soldier, for sure, but just a man that swept you off your feet with his sweetness and kindness and okay, those damn shoulders and his ass is biteable. But he’s just Steve!

Your family will see the title first, you’re sure of it. They’ll see Captain America.

“Are they not big Captain America fans?” his teasing is gentle and innocent.

“Steve!” you shut your eyes and chuckle, “ I’m seriously so worried.”

“I can take it, hon. I’m a big boy. Come on, let’s get in there. I wanna meet your grandma.”

Suddenly he throws his door open and steps out of the car, shutting it off as he goes.

“Wait!” you gasp, scurrying to get out with him. 

You scamper around the car until you’re beside him and take hold of his hand. He pulls you towards the door confidently but you let go of his hand and rush forward before he can reach it.

Fixing your hair, you push the door open and are immediately assaulted by the smell of spicy menudo. It makes your mouth water. The smell of spices and pine sol. Fabuloso is mixed in there too, your mom’s idea to mix the two cleansers together and use them to make a unique smelling concoction that gets the linoleum floors cleaner than if you used one or the other.

The low sofas are covered in shining clear plastic, no doubt put in place by your grandma just before all the family began to arrive. The flat screen is decorated with a simple green garland, beside the TV console is a low table where the remote sits on a lace doily, underneath in a wooden pocket are several magazines and underneath the pocket on the base of the table sits a blue round tin of butter cookies that no doubt has all of your grandma’s sewing things instead of the treats it promises.

The house isn’t big. In fact, it’s on the small side. The large master bedroom is situated at the back of the house along with the bathroom, past the kitchen where you can see the light on all of your aunts sitting around the table exchanging their respective chisme and keeping their hands busy with something you can’t see.

From the hallway to your right where the only two guest rooms are located along with a second half bath come running two of your younger cousins. They’re children still, your youngest Tia’s kids.

They don’t even notice you as you stop walking, choosing to run instead towards the back door in the distance past the kitchen, master bedroom, and bathroom.

One of your other aunts, the second oldest, turns her head as they run behind her.

“Que chingaos les dije?! Stop running in and out or I’m gonna kick your asses!” She yells at them, but the kids ignore her and disappear through the door. It slams shut behind them.

“Lulu, no les puedes decir algo?! They keep running in and out of here like wild animals.” Your second eldest aunt demands.

“They’re just playing, leave them alone.” Your Tia Lulu waves her sister off.

To your right you finally notice the centerpiece of the living room, a huge christmas tree with red, blue, and green glass ornaments. The lights are white, twinkling in different patterns, tinsel covering every branch to an obscene amount. At the top sits an old porcelain angel that your grandmother had once told you she’d received from her own grandmother and had actually been made in Mexico by some nun at an old church that had been knocked down a long time ago to make room for a cattle ranch.

The base of the tree is almost completely obscured by the dozens and dozens of presents from very large to very small. Each one is addressed to one or other member of the family. The kids especially all get gifts from each of your uncles and aunts.

You take another step towards the kitchen only to be stopped again as the restroom in the hallway to your right flushes and from inside it emerges your grandfather, buckling his belt as he lumbers out.

“Grandpa,” you call to him excitedly and he whips his head up then beams at the sight of you.

“Mijita bonita, cuando llegaste? Aye, chula…” His words fade out as he reaches you with his arms outstretched and pulls you into a quick tight hug.

His large hands pat you on the back several times before he kisses your cheek. He brings his hands to your shoulders and pushes you back a little to get a look at you.

“When did you get here?” he repeats, and gives your arms a squeeze.

“Just now,” you begin, but as you’d hugged your grandpa had turned you around and Steve moves in behind him.

He meets your eyes, shrinking a little, drawing his shoulders in to make himself smaller in the very normal person sized house.

“Grandpa, uh, I have um...this is my boyfriend, Steve,” with one arm extended you gesture towards the super soldier standing by the door.

“Steve?! ¿Trajiste un gringo?”

Your grandpa whips around, searching at average height level for the white boy you’ve brought and finds himself face to face with Steve’s chest.

He adjusts quickly, finding Steve’s face and with a gasp, he slams his hand over his heart and laughs.

“That’s Captain America!” he laughs.

The declaration brings the kitchen to a pause and like dominoes all of your aunts rise one by one, moving into the doorway of the kitchen to catch a glimpse at the commotion in the living room.

More gasps follow and soon you can’t hear yourself think as they all break into a cacophony of excited chatter.

Your Tia Lulu is the first to shove her way through, as she’s the youngest, she smiles at Steve flirtatiously before shoving your grandpa out of the way.

“Move aside, dad! Hello, hi. I’m Consuela but everyone calls me Lulu. You can call me sweetheart.” She throws out her tongue as she laughs, a clear joke but Steve good naturedly takes her hand and shakes it, a shy but kind smile on his handsome face.

“Oh my God, Tia, stop,” you plead.

“I’m just kidding, werca fregada. Don’t get your panties all in a twist.” She swats at you while your grandpa retreats to the sofa where he must have been sitting before, stuffing fives, tens, and twenties into envelopes for the kids.

Grandma and Grandpa never get anyone anything. They just put money in envelopes for the kids.

As your aunts file in, all five of them, you wait until Steve looks at you to bite your bottom lip and mouth a quick apology.

He shakes his head, setting your heart at ease as your aunts circle around him talking fast and occasionally asking him a question or two which he answers readily.

“A year.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, I’m not Captain America anymore.”

“Consulting mostly.”

“Yeah, I-I have my own place.”

“It’s a rental.”

Your aunts gasp at that in particular, “Ooh, it’s a rental. Those can be so expensive. Did you get the insurance?”

“Uh, well, no. I didn’t mean, it’s actually one of Tony’s-Stark. He had it set aside for us when he found out we were coming to visit.”

The madness reignites at the mention of Iron Man and as they plunge into more questions, your turn just in time as your mom makes her way over to you.

“Why didn’t you call me?” she wraps you up in her arms and you hug her back, holding it for a little longer than you normally would but you’ve been so stressed with bringing Steve here that you feel a relief wash over you not only because she’s there to help you, but to finally have it happening means you can stop the anticipation.

“I’m sorry, mom. I decided to get him down here super last minute and I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Where’s dad?”

“He’s out back with your tios. Drinking already,” she shakes her head but there’s no surprise there from anyone. “They’ve got the pit going. Chicken and fajitas to go with the menudo.”

“It smells so freaking good,” you laugh.

“Is he really your boyfriend? How long has this been going on? How come you haven’t told me?”

The hurt in your mom’s voice is subtle but you hear it and lament it.

“I was going to tell you. Every time I called. But at first it was too new and then after that I just didn’t know how to explain it to you. I know you hate my job. Now I’m dating a former Avenger?”

It’s her turn to look apologetic.

“Mija, you could have told me. I do hate that you put yourself in harm’s way, but that’s your job. No mom is going to like that.”

She takes a moment to glance at Steve, then with a flick of her eyebrows and a quick nod in his direction, she scoots closer, “Isn’t he like super old?”

You laugh and nod.

“He’s older than grandpa,” She laughs with you as you whisper, Steve giving you two a quick glance.

“He doesn’t look it,” your mom admits.

A tiny upturn to the corner of his lip tells you he can hear everything you’re saying.

“Is it serious?” She asks, letting you steer her towards the kitchen as her probing continues.

Inside the kitchen you find the entire kitchen table cleared of the usual place mats and ceramic Jesus centerpiece to make room for the bowls of masa, cooked seasoned pork and chicken for the filling of what will be tomorrow’s tamales.

At the stove you see your grandma a well worn lime green apron tied tightly around her waist and neck, huddled over the very tall and large pot, stirring and adding seasoning to the murky russet soup inside.

“I hope that has lots of posole!”

Your grandma turns at your voice and her face lights up.

“Mijita, chula!” she gushes, rushing forward to wrap her arms around you and kiss your cheek with a loud smack.

“Hi, grandma, I missed you so much,” you realize, hugging her tight.

“Por qué no nos dijiste que ibas a venir? Werca, cabrona!” she smacks you hard and you laugh, holding her hands as she pulls back to look at you. “You need to eat more.”

“Grandma, I’m eating fine,” you laugh, amused by the direction her thoughts go.

“She brought a boy home, mom,” your mom gives you away, then sticks her tongue out at you as she replaces her mother’s place at the pot.

“Mom!”

“You brought a boy?” she’s ecstatic! “A boyfriend?”

“Yes, he’s a boyfriend.”

“What’s his name?” she starts wiping her hands on her apron, cleaning them up to meet Steve.

“His name is Steve.”

“Es un gringo?!” her exclamation of surprise is just like grandpa’s.

“Yes, he’s white, does it matter?”

“Pos, no. It doesn’t matter, as long as he’s nice to you. Is he good to you?”

“He’s the best, grandma. He insists on taking me out every Friday to eat and watch a movie.”

Well, every Friday that you or he aren’t on mission. And it’s such a small thing but you know it’ll make her happy to know that he takes you out.

“Ooh, that’s good,” she approves. “Does he have a good job?”

“He’s a consultant where I work.”

“With the Avengers?” she gasps.

“Yeah.”

“A consultant? What does that mean? Is he a nerd?”

You laugh, throwing your head back, “He’s the biggest nerd, though he’ll never admit it.”

“Well, andale, let’s go meet your boyfriend,” she pushes you towards the doorway and you make to lead the way. “Is it serious?”

She whispers the second question, though you know that Steve will be able to hear.

Is it serious? “I uh…”

“Ayt! Don’t you all have husbands?”

Saving Steve from your aunts, your grandma moves forward and pushes and pulls and slaps them away from him, shoving them back towards the kitchen.

“Esos tamales no se van hacer solos.”

“Ow, mom! Stop hitting us,” your eldest aunt Margarita frowns.

“Magge, no te da verguenza?”

“Why should I be embarrassed?! Have you seen her boyfriend? Steve, do you like older women?” your Tia throws back at him as your other aunts push past you, patting you in the back and whispering congratulations at your luck.

“Technically I’m older,” he calls and everyone looks at him, not talking, apparently in shock at the fact that he truly is over a hundred years old.

“Oh my God, your boyfriend is Captain America?!” your grandma realizes, turning to slap your shoulder lightly for not explaining yourself.

Everyone bursts into laughter, the chatter moving into the kitchen as you join the laughter, Steve smiling from ear to ear as your mom rushes back out, eager to meet him.

Grandma pulls him into a hug and he gently returns it, smiling politely as she gushes over how handsome he is and how tall and then getting angry at you for not feeding him before admiring the exquisite shape of his body.

“Your grandpa had a body like this when he was young, mija,” grandma assures you. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Probably all the tamales,” you tease and she smacks you gently again before laughing in genuine amusement.

~~~~~~~~~~

You can’t find Steve anywhere. The kids are all inside, watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in the living room, crowded around the flat screen with expressions that range from amusement to boredom.

Mostly it’s the older kids that are tired of the claymation film. They’ve seen it every year since they were old enough to sit up.

“Should I change it?” you wander in from the front, your Tias laughing as the door shuts behind you cutting the sound off.

One of the things you’d missed was the happiness that filled the house this time of year. Even though they fight like cats, it’s cats that are sisters and love each other deep down.

They always end up laughing again eventually. 

Your cousin Claudia sits up at your offer, “Yes! Put something else on!”

“No!” the littler ones revolt.

“Even if it’s Elf?”

You stop by the TV, remote already in hand and all of their eyes light right up.

“Okay, okay, put Elf!”

Their accents make you smile. Like you, they’d probably grown up speaking mostly spanish as a toddler and then as you’d started school, English had begun to push in as your default leaving you with a heavy accent for a few years.

Now it’s almost completely gone and only emerges when you shout angrily, or so Steve says.

As the opening narration begins, you catch Claudia’s eyes and give her the remote, “Have you seen Steve?”

“Captain America?” she smirks, getting a serious kick out of your choice of boyfriend.

But you’d also seen her all flustered when she’d met him. She thinks he’s hot and honestly, he is so you can’t blame her. At sixteen, she’s lost almost all of her bashfulness.

“Yes, Steve. Have you seen him?”

“He went out back with Tio, I think.”

“My dad?!” you gasp, already terrified of what they might be talking about.

“Yeah, he looked nervous. You should probably go save him from Tio’s interrogation.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you throw at her, already moving towards the back door in a hurry.

The inside of the house is toasty warm, especially with the tamales cooking and the menudo on low heat to keep it warm in case anyone wants thirds or fourths.

“Where are you going?” your mom asks as you pass by.

She’s sitting at the kitchen table, across from your grandma talking in hushed tones.

“To get Steve, Claudia said he was with dad.”

“Well, leave them alone, I’m sure he’s being nice.”

Your grandma laughs and you shove the door open and disappear back out into the chilly winter night.

Wrapping your arms around yourself to combat the chill that begins to set in, you scan the backyard and move past your tios sitting around the clearly diy firepit one of them had built for your grandparents, each one knocking back a beer in either bottle or can.

They’re not as loud as your tias but they’re still talking loudly, laughing and then arguing over the superbowl.

“No manches, guey. That linebacker doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. He should have stayed in Atlanta.”

You tune them out as you spot Steve and your dad standing by the table of barbecue a little further out by the back corner of the chain link fence.

Steve is standing with one hand on the tongs, flipping over some of the leftover chicken your grandma asked your dad to cook since someone will eat it eventually.

They’re talking, both in deep conversation until Steve smiles and seems to relax. Your dad, who stands at five feet, nine inches in height, has to reach up to clap Steve on the shoulder then smiles too, both of them turning their focus on the chicken.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, moving towards them with purposeful steps.

Both of them look up as you approach and immediately Steve hands your dad the tongs before moving towards you and peeling off his black leather jacket.

“Hon, why are you out here without a coat? It’s cold.” he says sweetly.

He can’t feel the temperature like you can but he can tell when you’re cold.

“Dad? What are you two doing out here?”

You’re so suspicious of your dad, worried he might be saying things to hurt Steve, but both of them look happy even.

“I’m showing him how we make the chicken,” your dad says innocently.

“Uh huh...sure you are.”

“He was,” Steve promises.

“I don’t trust you,” you say sternly, using one finger to point up into Steve’s ridiculously handsome face. “You’re just trying to suck up to my family.”

“Me?” he gasps, forced innocence on his face now too.

You narrow your eyes at both of them in turn, wrapping your arms around yourself again as Steve rubs them to try and warm you up.

“Come on, let’s go back inside,” Steve urges you, then turns to look at your dad. “Thanks for the lesson, Hector, I’ll keep it in mind for the future.”

“What lesson?”

“Never you mind, nosy. Come on, before you catch a cold.”

Steve sits you on the sofa once he’s got you inside and settles in pulling you against his side then kissing your temple before turning his focus on Buddy the Elf sitting in a bathroom singing with Zoey Deschanel as she showers.

“When did you sneak off to talk to my dad?”

Eyes narrowed, you watch him for any of his usual tells that he might be lying or hiding something from you.

So far, nothing.

“I didn’t sneak off. You were busy talking to your aunt and your dad invited to show me how to make the chicken. He was nice, serious about you. He wanted me to know that he’s got his eyes on me and if I hurt you all of your uncles will come find me and castrate me.”

He smiles wide, amused by this for some reason.

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt fear like that. Your dad really meant it.”

You’re not convinced but he reaches down to take hold of your chin and force you to look at him.

“Give me a kiss, pouty.” he requests.

How can you resist? You lean up and give him a quick kiss but then the kids say, “Ooooooh.”

You turn to them and throw Claudia a pillow but she laughs and catches it, leading the rest of them into giggles.

~~~~~~~~~~

The night grows older and everyone comes inside. As midnight approaches, the kids filter into their usual seats at the feet of their respective parents. Your six aunts and their husbands pile onto the sofas or linger in doorways, all attention diverted to the Christmas tree and the piles of presents underneath.

Your grandma and grandpa get center seating on the longest sofa, both of them ready with cash envelopes in hand for giving out as soon as the time comes.

Your dad on the other hand sits himself by the tree and while all of the adults talk amongst themselves, the kids are as quiet as they will ever be, little to teen eyes all trained on the pile of gifts.

“Mija, ven siéntate aqui. Magge, dale el asiento a tu sobrina,” your grandmother calls, waving you over to sit beside her.

Your aunt looks from your grandmother to you and then back, looking almost affronted by the request until your grandma gives her a face of deep annoyance.

Your aunt has a moment of realization, then sighs but begins to get up.

“No! Tia, it’s okay. I’ll stand. I’m alright here.”

“Don’t argue with me and get your butt over here,” your grandmother interrupts.

“She never sees you,” your tia reminds you. “Come sit here, I’ll sit on your tio’s lap.”

“Like hell you will, you wanna break my legs?”

“Callate lo sico, estupido imbecil,” she smacks him in the arm but then sits in his lap and he smirks as he wraps his arms around her waist.

Steve pushes you towards her, then leans down to kiss your cheek.

He knows you hate to leave him standing there.

“Go, sit with your grandma.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, of course babe. Go.” He kisses your cheek again then pushes you towards the sofa.

As you settle in, giving him another look of consideration, your grandma takes your hand and holds it gently plucking a smile from your worried expression.

“He’s okay, no one is going to take him from you.”

Not that you think anyone would, but it’s a common phrase among couples who are glued at the hip.

As your grandma’s old cuckoo clock chimes in midnight, your dad points at your cousin Claudia who gets up and quickly shuts off the living room light leaving all of you in the glow of the white twinkle lights.

As your dad begins to call out names, the kids scoot closer in excitement and watch as they’re each handed gifts after gifts.

Eventually the floor begins to fill with crumpled up wrapping paper and colorful bows and ribbon. Toys are yanked from boxes and the laughter begins to fill the room again.

Your aunts and uncles also get their names called and you don’t feel bad that your name is never called.

They had no idea you were coming and your Tia Magge leans towards you, “I’m sorry we didn’t get you anything, Mija. We didn’t know you were coming.”

“Oh, I know, Tia. It’s okay. I just wanted to see you all and bring Steve to meet you.”

As you gesture towards where you left him standing, you find him missing but think nothing of it as he might have just gone to the bathroom.

There are only two gifts left under the tree, one very large one which your dad calls out for your grandpa, and then he pulls a shoe sized box, wrapped in silver paper onto his lap but gestures at your grandma who lets go of your hand and begins to call names out and pass the envelopes with money to the kids.

Because you can’t stand sitting there any longer, the mess on the floor still growing, you get up and move into the kitchen.

Trash bag in hand you move back out to the living room and begin to stoop over and pick up the wrappings of all the presents exchanged tonight.

Your grandma calls out Claudia’s name and as the teen sits back down, your dad clears his throat.

“We have one more gift, and it’s for my beautiful daughter,” he says, shocking you into standing as he calls your name.

“Me?!” you gasp, completely in shock.

You hadn’t been expecting anything though you and Steve had definitely brought gifts for everyone.

Your gift had been the ability to see such bright smiles as they opened said presents.

“Here,” your dad holds it out and you let go of the trash bag as Claudia takes it from you.

With a quick wipe of your brow, you take the gift and look for a name so that you’ll know who to thank, but there’s no name.

“Open it!” One of the younger kids says with excitement.

“Yeah, rip it!” another urges.

“Rip it?” you chuckle, and rip it.

It is indeed a shoebox, but as you lift the lid and place it underneath, you find in the shoebox another box, slightly smaller, also sealed up tight this time in pink shiny wrapping paper..

“Oh my God,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

You open that box too, tossing the wrapping paper to Claudia who tosses it for you as you find yourself staring at yet another box, wrapped in green snowflake paper.

“What the hell is going on here?” you laugh again, tearing it open and finding a smaller one.

This goes on and your family laughs at you as you open box after box after box, until finally the smallest box is the size of laptop charging block.

“How the hell does anyone even find a box this small?!” you gasp, shaking your head as your shoulders shake with laughter.

You tear the last box open, discarding the bright red paper then open the top to find a small black velvet bag with a drawstring pulled shut.

“Finally!”

Your exclamation brings laughter from the room and as you pull the bag open, you turn it over since the room is in semi-darkness and you can’t see in.

Onto your palm tumbles a silver ring. Sitting on top is an emerald cut diamond, solitaire, that glimmers in the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

“What the-?” you start, but from the hallway behind your mom emerges Steve, looking nervous as fuck.

He swallows hard as he walks towards you, stopping only when he’s right in front of you then slowly, as butterflies tumble violently in your lower belly, he kneels.

“Oh my God…” you whisper, too shocked to speak any louder.

He says your name, clears his throat because his voice shakes, and you smile, on the verge of laughing or crying. You’re not sure which.

“In just about a week we’ll have been together for exactly one year, but I’ve known since you pulled that bullet out of my a-my backside and called me a big baby for whining about it that you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

“Both of us work in a very dangerous job but I don’t think I know anyone else who is as brave or strong or sure of themselves as you. I wasn’t sure what to expect from life after I gave up being Captain America.

“Suddenly there were an infinite amount of possibilities ahead of me and yet, not once did I think that marrying anyone would be the path I’d take. I’d given up on love, on the chance of a normal life, but you’ve woken me up. You’ve pulled me out of my past and with you I can see that future we talked about the other morning.

“I see my life as your husband and father to our kids laid out in front of us and I can’t wait to get started. So, I guess, I just need to ask?”

Your family laughs, reminding you that you two are not alone.

“You’ve always said that if someone proposed to you, you wouldn’t want it to be in public and well, these people are your family so they’re not public. They represent a life I would very much like to be a part of. I’ve had no one for so long, I want this family, so will you marry me? Will you let me be a part of your family?”

You’re in shambles. You’re sobbing, smiling through the waterworks as your heart pounds so hard in your chest and all of the oxygen threatens to leave your brain.

“Yes!” you gasp, and the room explodes with cheers and applause.

Steve takes the ring and quickly slips it onto your finger before rising and pulling you flush against his body. He kisses you eagerly, laughing against your own lips as you kiss him back just as passionately.

As he pulls back, an audible smack snuffed out by the roar of excitement in the room, you search his eyes for any form of doubt.

There’s none.

“Is this what you were talking to daddy about? Asking me to marry you?”

“It was the right thing to do,” Steve explains, and you feel vindicated in your earlier suspicions.

“Jerk!” you smack his chest but he pulls you in for another kiss.

The two of you share in the moment for only one more second before your grandmother is pulling you two apart so that she can hug you and kiss Steve’s cheek. Your mom is also in tears, hugging you tight as your dad hugs you both, then shakes Steve’s hand before pulling him in for a quick hug.

There’s a terrifying POP that sends you and Steve ducking from instinct, but you find your grandpa holding up a bottle of champagne.

“¿Dónde está la música? Turn on the radio! Let’s celebrate!” He shouts, lifting the bottle to his lips.

As the kids spring up and split up throughout the household to play with their toys, your aunts and uncles begin to pair off, swaying and singing at the very top of their lungs as Feliz Navidad fills the room.

Steve makes his way back towards you, swerving past your excited family until he has his arms around you again, pulling you in close until he can sway you to the beat of the music.

“I’m guessing the party is just getting started?”

“Oh, babe, you just gave them the fuel to go until the sun comes up.”

Steve chuckles leans down to kiss you again, summoning an encore of cheers.

[mythicamagic]

Yang x MC Oneshot: The Red Crane

Summary: The Lao Shu mafia boss is looking for a certain woman- his woman- to be exact. (Not as AU as you might think) Yang x Liliana oneshot.

Rated M for smut 

3,000 words

AN: Part of this was originally a rp between me and my friend LadyDiana2000, but I've reworked and extended it into a oneshot. As always you can read this on Ao3 or fanfiction.net via the same username.

Warning: Smut, and the usual themes found in Yang's route aka references to human trafficking.

The Red Crane

The State-Operated Casino in Burlone had been deemed 'neutral ground' for the three deadly mafia families constantly engaged in turf wars. The Falzones barely indulged there due to its leader's distaste, but it was frequently visited by the Visconti and Lao Shu alike, along with regular citizens.

Of course, due to its popularity, copycats popped up everywhere in different territories. Many tried to capture its feel and opulence, but few succeeded.

One such unsavoury copycat lurked in the innermost depths of Lao Shu territory, behind far too many back allies to ever be relevant; The White Crane.

A little tidbit the locals didn't know- or frankly didn't care about- was that its female staff had been provided through underhanded means. Human trafficking valued foreign girls highest, so it was only natural the casino house exotic looking women.

The gambling room was located underground in a transformed basement, drunk men observing the girls. Some were on a cramped stage as entertainment, others waitressing. This newest batch had arrived together, and after a few failed escape attempts and punishments- they'd been shaken enough to be potentially wonderful gifts or products to sell on.

Liliana had never intended to get mixed up with mafia men or human trafficking. One second she'd been enjoying Italy's fine streets, heading towards down an alley- the next…

She shuddered, wiping down a table. Rough hands had grabbed her, snatching her away. She seemed to have been a spur-of-the-moment kidnapping.

Escape proved futile from the seedy casino. Guards were posted outside, and though unsteady with too much liquor in their system, they always overpowered her.

Green eyes dimmed, hazed by the thick smog of cigar smoke.

She'd been fortunate enough to avoid the territory's overabundant drug use, but that could easily change.

I miss you, Elena, Sister Sophia. I hope the children are alright.

It felt like such a long amount of time had passed since she'd seen them- since she'd last glimpsed decent sunlight not smeared by grimy glass.

Glancing at a kiseru pipe held within an older gentleman's hand, she shook herself, continuing with the day's chores.

Have I been forgotten?

----

It's after hours and early in the morning when the owner unexpectedly asked the girls to stay. Usually they'd go to sleep after tidying up. He smiled, standing within the empty casino room. "The time has come for one of you to leave the nest, little songbirds."

The girls shifted anxiously, having sat down in a section of old chaises and lounges. "What does that mean?" one asked.

"Surely you've wondered why you were all brought in here at the same time? Staff are kept in rotation, you see. We need new faces every few months or so. It's just good business. Eventually all of you will be bought or gifted. In this case, one of you will be a gift to the Lao Shu mafia. I hear their leader is without a woman right now."

The door to the basement swung open soundlessly- a man leisurely wandering down white steps.

Liliana stiffened, becoming still as a statue.

"Ah- signore Yang. I didn't think you'd be here so early."

"Mn," a man wearing a fine green changshan ignored the owner, gaze half-lidded. He lowered himself into a seat facing the cluster of women, taking out an ornate pipe and lighting it. Long red hair spilt from broad shoulders- some strands having been tied into a sloppy braid. Liliana's fingers twitched, experiencing an urge to fix it.

"From the looks on their faces, I assume they know the situation," he drawled, flashing his teeth in a mockery of a smile, golden eyes icy cold. As the leader of the Chinese mafia based in Burlone, people knew his name, but he wasn't widely known to the public eye.

"That's the boss of the Lao Shu?" a girl, Victoria, leaned in close to Liliana.

"Yes- but I'm not sure why he'd come here himself," she whispered back, hands drawing into loose fists on her dusty skirts.

Yang watched them watch him, taking a drag from his pipe and exhaling a cloud of curling smoke. "There's not much atmosphere here tonight... give them alcohol if they want it, they look foolish sitting there empty-handed," he addressed the owner.

He nodded, "Chie, would you-"

"No," Yang cut in. "They're busy with me right now. You take their orders. Nothing too expensive, mind."

Miraculously, the owner nodded with the briefest flash of fear, clearly not wanting to displease him.

Some of the girls ordered, though Liliana declined softly, wanting her mind unclouded.

"We'd probably look less foolish if we knew what you wanted," she spoke up, thankful her voice didn't shake. "We were just told something about being 'gifted' a moment before you came in, sir."

"I see."

He'd been collected since the moment he'd walked in, but his eyes unexpectedly burned the second they locked onto her, stealing Liliana's breath. Twin hooks glinted- secured at his hip. "Well, the weaselly owner of this cesspool is going to gift one of you to me," he spoke in a rich cadence, lifting a shoulder lazily. "I'm sure he intends for me to pick at random but I'm not particularly interested in that. If you want to come with me, then speak up," he uttered, accepting a glass of red wine without acknowledging the owner.

"Get on with it, then," one of the more jaded women sneered.

Yang's eyes slide to her. He gazed silently, with such deep, cold apathy.

Like a hawk assessing prey, Liliana stilled. Those tiger-like, vibrant eyes slid shut as he smiled indulgently, "I'm going to tell you now, I cannot abide those who refuse to understand anything. For example...the position they're in," he shot the woman a deadly smirk.

He took a sip, tilting his head consideringly. "You could entertain my men and be passed around, or become my woman, and everything that encompasses."

The implication is startling. Mafia had prostitutes, but he was offering something usually reserved for girlfriends.

This grabbed the attention of many of the girls, though Liliana reddened and glanced away. "Is this a conscious choice?" Amira asks. "Do we say- Yes, I want to be your woman, and that's that? Or are there hurdles you expect us to jump through first, only to be prostituted?"

"No hurdles. That's that," he mimicked, lips curving sharply. "Mn... but it would be unfair not to warn you of my nature. I get bored easily," he drawled. "If you abandon any effort to think for yourself, if you tell me 'I don't know anything' or 'tell me everything'... I will assume your brain is mere decoration. You will become worth less than nothing to me."

"And if that happens, you won't let us go," Liliana murmured, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. She wondered how long this farce would last for, lips thinning.

Yang hummed, expression unreadable as he squinted. "You're skinny," he observed bluntly.

Heat abruptly burst to her cheeks, "I like to share my meals with other people if they ask for seconds!" she felt the need to defend.

"And you went hungry instead? What a soft mindset," he gave a mocking smirk as though unable to comprehend the notion. "I'll feed you, plenty."

The way he said it sounded strangely inappropriate, and she swiftly dropped her gaze, exhaling shakily. His aura was intense- attention feeling heavy. Her thighs pressed together.

Yang took another drag of his kiseru, seeming to enjoy himself. He suddenly noticed something, motioning to Lucrecia. "Woman. Come here a moment."

Lucrecia paled but dutifully stood, padding over with visible trepidation on her face. "Yes?"

His pipe lifted, propping up the ribbon on her shoulder, gazing at it. Golden eyes gleamed. "Are you Hui's plaything?"

She swallowed, stuttering. "I... I don't think so? I just attend to his drinks and food orders," she explained. "The ribbon is something he tied onto me- so that he could monopolise my time."

It wasn't the complete truth, Hui had propositioned her many times. Lili stiffened, gripped by something that heated her blood.

Yang hummed, drawing closer to invade her personal space. "That so?" he purred, voice dropping. "Because if you were Lee's woman, I'd take you just to piss him off," he flashed a sharp-toothed grin.

"Let her go," Liliana burst, standing from her seat. Silence filled the room immediately, her heart hammering loudly in her ribcage.

Ah...

Searing, half-lidded eyes pinned her in place, dragging sensually down her form. Sweat beaded on her brow.

"Are you going to wait around all night or will you finally voice your desire to come with me?" a silky chuckle caressed her hearing, Yang's amusement palpable.

Liliana bristled, biting her lip. Lucrecia's distressed features were enough to draw her forward. "I'm not interested in being your pawn, but yes. I would like to leave this place. Please stop toying with Lucrecia needlessly."

Releasing her friend without another word- a tattooed hand darted out.

Squeaking, Liliana felt herself be tugged down roughly. Prying her eyes open, she shifted on his lap, an iron grip holding her around the waist. Sturdy thighs cushioned her legs- his chest solid with muscle despite his tapered waist.

She opened her mouth to say more- before a mouth pressed to hers. He forced a deep, long kiss against startled lips- tongue brushing against hers, swallowing her muffled noises.

Blushing hotly, Lili tried to ignore their audience, pressing her palms against his chest and shoving to no avail. She couldn't help but return the kiss, stifling less than innocent noises.

Yang chuckled and nipped her bottom lip, scraping sharp teeth over soft flesh while pulling away. "Women usually pretend to be completely enamoured by me," he whispered playfully. "But your glaring eyes aren't unattractive."

"I'm sure you'll receive plenty of glares from me in due course," she panted, cheeks stained red. Green eyes flashed and narrowed, shakily wiping her mouth.

A slow, pleased smile curved his lips, directing his attention to the waiting owner. "I think this one will prove entertaining," he stood.

"Oh! I'm glad!" the man bowed. "Please accept this humble offering. We hope it demonstrates our loyalty to the Lao Shu."

"There's just one thing," Yang sighed with dismay, grasping the hilt of one of his weapons. He lifted it, resting the curve of the hook beneath Lili's chin, metal cool on her skin. Green eyes remained calm, gazing at him quietly.

Yang almost seemed to gentle- just for a moment- before continuing with a playful lift to his voice. "If you're so loyal to us- I assume you didn't mean to steal something that belonged to me."

"W-what?"

A disappointed look crossed Yang's cruel, handsome features. He tilted his head, earring catching the lamplight. "Now that is a pity. I half hoped you'd had the balls to do it on purpose. Never mind," his palm planted against Liliana's back- shoving.

"Wait outside."

Gaping, Liliana stumbled forward. Shooting the girls a worried look, she tried to convey her fear for them, fluttering her hand slightly.

Please get down. Duck for safety. Escape!

Some of them seemed confused, while others caught on, becoming tense.

Hitching blue skirts up and taking the stairs two at a time, Liliana hurried, flinching at a brilliant blaze of colour and light.

She glanced back just once- witnessing Yang swing his hooks down- cleaving through muscle, sinew and bone like butter. Women cried out with horror as the owner collapsed, choking on his own blood.

Fresh air caught in her throat, and Liliana breathed in greedily, lungs protesting as she kept moving.

Multiple swaths of pinks, purples and reds painted the skies, sunset a burning hue on the horizon beyond tiled roofs.

It felt so good to be above ground.

The second she'd managed to race out onto the streets- the guards caught wind of the horror downstairs, drawing their guns and descending into the basement.

Liliana steadied herself against a wall in an alley, hearing rapid gunfire.

Pressing a hand to her mouth, salty tears of relief and worry for her companions welled up. They slid down rosy cheeks, eyes squeezing shut.

She could've run. Seized the opportunity to flee due to the chaos downstairs. Return to the church.

But she knew he'd pursue her.

Hearing footsteps draw closer over cobbled ground, Liliana sobbed, vision blurry as she looked up. But...that wasn't quite the truth. A part of her didn't want to leave this person either.

Yang lowered his bloodied weapon off one shoulder, crimson staining his clothes. Not one injury marred him, as per the norm.

"T-the girls," she managed to choke out.

"It appears they made it out alive," he drawled uncaringly, stepping closer.

"You didn't have to play around like that," she hiccuped, glaring. "Pretending not to know me..."

"Since you're partly to blame for causing my boredom over the past few weeks, a little roleplaying isn't much punishment."

Lili opened her mouth to reply- only to feel hands grab her head, a mouth slanting over hers. The clang of metal bouncing against stone indicated he'd dropped his hook. Shuddering, Liliana pressed herself against him, gasping against his lips and feeling a fresh wave of tears overcome her.

Yang backed her into a wall, body caging her against it, drawing hungry lips down to her neck to place open-mouthed kisses there- biting down.

Jolting, Liliana mewled, gripping him tight. "Y-Yang," she wanted him closer, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I tore Veleno apart looking for you," he hissed in her ear, nipping it. "And some of the other territories. I wondered if the Falzones had finally stolen their precious maiden back- but no. The piss-poor, fucking White Crane 'casino' was holding you. It's precious, really."

Though he smiled jaggedly, Lili could feel his temper spike, coiling tense muscles tighter. His blood-lust hadn't been sated.

She endeavoured to sway it into a different kind of lust.

"I thought..." she mumbled, kissing his chin. "I thought you might've forgotten me."

His tongue ran over the shell of her ear, hands roaming. "Obviously getting kidnapped has hindered your intelligence. I don't let go of my things," he smirked. "Especially not a woman who can glare like a cat. Besides- you returned to me willingly, Lili," fingers marked with intricate tattoos glided over her hip. "You chose to be my woman in there. It's too late to pretend otherwise~"

Her shoulders dropped with relief. Stroking a hand through soft, brilliant red hair, she breathed in his spicy, masculine scent. Her hips bucked of their own accord, a sigh fell from her lips, feeling him grind against her in return.

"Yang-" she breathed, tugging at his hair as he sucked on her collarbone, hand worming between them. "Not here-" a noise escaped her throat, shuddering.

Tattooed fingers pressed and glided against her clit, hidden beneath layers of skirts.

Lifting herself from the haze of pleasure they elicited, Liliana pushed against his chest insistently. With a hiss, Yang ripped his hand away and grabbed her around the waist, retrieving his weapon before leaving the alley.

They didn't make it to the Lao Shu base.

Stumbling as far as the dimly lit docks, Yang tugged her beneath the harsh shade of a boardwalk. The tide was out, allowing Liliana to fall back, cushioned by cool sands.

He gripped her stockings and yanked- ripping a large seam over her sex to allow access. Liliana opened her arms- cradling him close as Yang sank inside her without fanfare or preparation. Lili gasped, wet enough- but needing to adjust to his size once more.

"Did anyone else touch you?" he breathed, eyes half-lidded yet blazing with liquid heat.

"No- no one."

"Good," their breaths intermingled. "Otherwise I'd regret killing them so quickly."

He tugged her dress down just enough to expose a breast, firm grip squeezing it roughly. The way Yang's pupils dilated with every shaky moan she gave made her want to drown him in screams. Liliana clutched at broad shoulders in a death grip as he began moving, rolling lean hips with quick, hard movements.

She hitched her leg, throwing it over his waist- back arching as nails scraped her thigh. His free hand settled at the base of her throat, squeezing slightly.

"I think you owe me an apology," he purred.

"Pardon?- ah!"

Yang gave a rough thrust- cock hitting a spot deep inside that had her choking on a gasp while he simultaneously gave another squeeze. "You know why."

Blunt teeth grit, breath wheezing as he controlled her oxygen flow, cunt clenching hard around him in response. "I'm...sorry, for leaving Lan and Fei," she panted. "I just wanted to quickly check on Luca in town- gn!"

She keened loudly as his other hand played with her sensitive nipple, and threw her head back as Yang began to kiss down her jaw.

"That's a good girl," cold fire brightened his gaze. "Apology- hah- accepted. You were probably sharing food again, hm? That's just like you."

He kissed her hard, using his grip to keep her in place as she shivered with a broken moan. He tasted sweet, rich and decadent and she needed more, opening her mouth just enough for him to force his tongue in.

Yang moved more fluidly, hips undulating against hers with deep, deliberate thrusts. Lili marvelled at his frankly dishevelled look. They never broke eye-contact, bodies plastered together as they made harsh marks into the sand.

They both breathed heavily, the air between them hazy. Lili felt herself getting close, squeezing around him like a vice.

"Liliana," Yang caressed the syllables of her name like a hushed, sinful word. He knew it affected her, and wielded it like any other weapon. "Grip me harder, Liliana. Don't you want me to feel it when you experience rapture?"

Whining, she found purchase on the nape of his neck- digging blunt nails in and dragging them down, feeling him gasp, hips spasming- knocking her own release out of her like a thunderclap.

"Yang!"

He grunted, choking on a dark laugh as he came, releasing inside her. He abandoned her neck in favour of gripping blonde hair- tugging it to yank her head back- a bruising kiss pressing against rosy, open lips.

"Never a dull moment, hm?" Yang chuckled breathlessly, eyes dancing.

Laying in a daze, Liliana could barely formulate words, feeling him pool inside her- their combined juices leaking down her thighs as he pulled out. She knew she'd just traded one cage for another. That this person- this murderer- was just as dark and terrible as the men who had kidnapped her.

And yet, whether it existed or not- Lili imagined she could see it. A fondness in his cruel gaze. She wanted to be kept by him. It didn't make logical sense, but she felt it didn't need to. Yang was a being of impulse, instinct and indulgence. The more he touched her, the more Liliana sank down into the depths of where he resided.

Red cheeks flushed a darker shade of rouge. God forgive me, but I think I'm in danger of loving this awful man.

With a sharp grin, Yang abruptly flipped her over onto her hands and knees, ripping skirts aside and raising her ass- entering her from behind.

"Ah-! A-again? So soon?" she squeaked, moaning.

"What are you talking about? Playtime usually runs into a few sessions," a velvety chuckle resounded in her ear. "Now spread yourself wide, Lili. I want to feel your lungs compress as I hammer into you from behind. That sounds entertaining, doesn't it?"

Lili squeezed her eyes shut, heart thudding wildly. Trembling knees shifted in the sand, dragging apart.

Yes, it does.

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Artemis Rising

The story of a Goddess and a Demi God, star crossed lovers whose story was lost to the complexity of history. The truth is they were wronged. All because of the jealousy of a brother. Can they escape their fate in a modern age? Can reincarnation allow her to finally reunite with the ones who loved her?

genre: angst ; reincarnation/Greek mythology au ; werewolf au

pairing: Yoongi x reader; ot7 x reader ; ft: Ateez

warnings: abusive relationship, physical abuse towards reader, vengeful ot7, inaccurate description of Ateez as aggressive (they’re sweet babies I swear! But Eomma needed a bad guy), fighting, character death, of age drinking (more to be added mayhaps?)

Word count: 3197

Chapter 2

Above the moon waned, it’s glorious light barely casting a glow upon the stilled seas that would normally grace sweet Gaia’s shores.

“My child, why do you weep so?” Leto stepped from the shadows. The soothing calm that normally encased the Titan Goddess of motherhood was gone, replaced with a sense of distress and panic at the sight of her precious daughter weeping upon a piece of sea swept driftwood.

“Mother…” Artemis sobbed, reaching out to the tall figure and crumpling into her lap.

“Artemis, my darling. Speak to me. Who is the cause of your tears?”

It took the moon goddess a while to answer, so wrapped up in her grief that her entire body trembled and the moon shed a little more of its light, now barely a sliver in the sky.

“It’s O...Orion. He’s...he’s gone mother. By mine own hand…”

Leto gasped, pulling away to stare down at Artemis with wide eyes.

“The young hunter boy? The one who’d caught your eye and joined you in your hunts?”

“The very same. Oh mother what do I do?”

The night wore on as the goddess of the moon wept, seeking comfort in the arms of Leto who could only stroke her back in comfort and attempt to soothe her broken soul.

The sun began to rise, it’s golden glow muted and pale as Apollo approached.

“Son. Is this your doing?” A hint of anger leached into the benevolent Titan’s voice as she gave her only son a heated stare.

“Mother...I…”

“You knew it was him!” Artemis stood, short sword in hand as she rounded on her once beloved brother. “You knew and you challenged me anyway! All of this born of your stupid misplaced jealousy!” 

“Sister, please I just…”

Artemis cut him off, lunging forward with all of the intent of driving the golden steel of the Gods through his chest.

“Artemis no!!”

***

Panic gripped me as I lunged forward, arm outstretched as if attempting to reach...something.

I shook my head in bewilderment, hoping the motion would wake me up enough to remember the dream that had left me with tear stained cheeks and a pillow soaked in my own grief. As with every other dream of mine though, it’d faded too fast. A wisp of a thing fading away in the morning light.

I sighed, finally allowing my hand to fall to the coolness of the bedsheet. A glance beside me let me know that once again Hongjoong had woken long before me...that or he’d never come to bed as the sheets beside me were as cold and empty as always.

I sighed again, letting the loneliness of the early morning caress my cheeks and dry the tears left over from the formless nightmare. Eventually I was able to get myself motivated enough to get up and start the day. It was honestly a perk working from home that I didn’t have a specific time to get up. But I preferred working on my writing early on in the day so that I could have the evenings to myself to relax and do whatever needed to be done before Hongjoong got home.

After a quick shower and change of clothes I made my way down to the kitchen in the hopes of having a quiet breakfast.

"Miss…"

I couldn't help the squeak that left my lips when Yeosang's strong, deep voice echoed through the vast expanse of the kitchen. Eyes wide I stared at his broad back, confused as to how he even knew I was standing in the doorway. Standing at the stove was Seonghwa, cooking away in a world of his own.

At Yeosang’s acknowledgement of my presence Seonghwa glanced over to me. I couldn’t help but wither under his intense stare. A frown formed between his eyebrows as he took in the bruise on my left cheek that I’d failed to cover up with several layers of concealer along with the way I shrunk away from their combined stares.

Neither of them commented though and it came as a relief that they turned back to their respective tasks after a moment more of silence. 

“There’s omelet rolls on the way. Meat’s cooked and on the table.” Seonghwa’s words weren’t spoken to anyone but I knew they were aimed at me. Whispering out a quick thank you I scurried over to the dining table, head down and eyes pinned to the small pile of bacon sitting before me.

The rest of the meal was delivered quickly, the imposing men’s silence deafening as usual as they seemed to tiptoe around me. I’d come to expect and accept it at this point as it seemed that each of my bodyguards was absolutely terrified of reaching out to me in any way.

I could have used the comfort. Used some sort of touch or a soothing word to get through the monotony of my days. But I suppose that’s what Yoongi was for…

So I turned to him. Once dishes were done and put away I began texting him, checking in on his day, asking the usual best friend questions and hanging on to every time the phone would vibrate while I worked in the relative quiet of my little writing corner. Before I’d even realized it, the day had moved on without me.

I glanced up out of the window, startling myself at the abrupt darkness that had swallowed the day and cast the world into the deepest recesses of twilight. Somehow I’d missed lunch and dinner, and the hunger gnawed at my stomach in a way that made me nervous just thinking about it.

Hongjoong would be home by now, and the mere thought of facing him after last night set me on edge.

“Have you been holed up in here all day?”

I couldn’t help the squeak of fear that escaped me. Whipping around I stared wide eyed at Hongjoong who’d somehow walked into my office without me hearing and was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hongjoong...I...I didn’t hear you come in…” I pressed my hand against my chest, struggling to still the rapid beating of my heart.

He smirked, dropping his arms and pushing away from the doorframe. His movements were so smooth, so calculated. My gaze swept his figure as he stalked towards me like a predator, noting he was still in his business suit and tie though the latter was untied and hung loosely from his neck.

“Good. You weren’t supposed to.”

I shrunk down in my chair as he towered over me, shadows cast on his face making it hard to gauge his mood or what he could possibly want with me.

“Your meeting. It went well I hope?” No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shove the slight quiver in my voice down and I hated myself for it. Hated that his presence alone struck such a level of fear in me even without him having done anything.

“Hmm…” His noncommittal hum echoed through the room and some part of me screamed in disgust at the way my body sagged with relief when he turned away from me and moved back to the bedroom door.

“I met with a few social acquaintances of mine.” Ever so slowly he closed the door, as if shutting the world out of our conversation. It wasn’t really necessary, no one here would ever dare walk in on him without announcing themselves first. 

“Oh?” My tongue darted out to wet my lips and his eyes followed the motion almost hungrily. I couldn’t help but suppress the shudder of fear that raced through my bloodstream.

 “You’re...acquaintances with that popular boy band...yes?” I couldn’t quite tell what he was after. His tone of voice was flat, almost as if he was already bored with the conversation even though he’d been the one to initiate it.

I turned in my computer chair to face him fully, watching as he leaned heavily on the closed door and folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m friends with them, yeah. Is...there…”

The sly grin that flashed across his face set every alarm bell ringing in my head. He was planning something, and the implications could honestly mean anything but none of it was anything good.

“I want you to invite them to the party tomorrow night. Make sure they come, no exceptions.” 

I blinked, head tilting to the side as I followed his every move. He pushed away from the wall, stalking over to me slowly. It took everything in me to sit still instead of retreating back into myself as the predatory threat loomed over me in the form of Hongjoong’s imposing figure.

I stared at his chest for a moment as he pressed his hands on either side of me on the desk, effectively caging me in. When I’d finally found the nerve to look him in the eyes the fire there had me instantly shrinking in on myself.

“I want them there, no exceptions. No excuses.”

“Y...yes, okay Hongjoong…”

He continued staring at me for a long moment, face morphing into various emotions from distaste to mistrust and finally settling on neutral disgust. Grabbing my chin he pulled me close, sealing his lips against mine in some form of possessive dominance that had me melting in to him despite every cell of my being wanting to pull away and protect myself from him.

“That’s my good girl.” Patting my cheek he turned and marched off, leaving me confused and irritated with myself for the display of weakness.

***

“Hyung, remind me why we agreed to this again?” Jungkook coughed, slim fingers curled into the collar of his tie as he struggled to breathe around it.

“Because y/n asked us to, that’s why.” Seokjin growled, grabbing the young boy by the arm and twirling him just enough to reposition the tie accordingly and allow Jungkook to breathe.

“Well, I mean besides that…'' Jungkook blushed, eyes darting through the entryway and into the rest of the massive mansion. It’d taken everything Yoongi had to convince them to take their one day off to support their best friend. They’d been all for it up until he mentioned it’d been to support Kim Hongjoong’s ‘important announcement’. At that point they’d just about all gotten up and walked away until he mentioned she’d begged him specifically.

“Well here’s to hoping the food is at least good…” Taehyung muttered as he shoved his way into the entry hall and tossed his overly long coat at the poor overloaded coat rack in the corner.

“I swear if that fucker tries to make trouble for her tonight I’m going to tear his throat out.” Hoseok growled, eyes narrowed to slits as he’d just spotted the man in question.

Hongjoong strutted across the hall, disappearing through the large glass doors that led out to the lanai and the massive back yard where the main portion of the party was held.

“We’ll do no such thing.” Namjoon said. He placed a calming hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, giving the younger men each a piercing look that set them back to their relaxed state of alert once more.

“At least not until she’s ready to let him go and come home with us.” Yoongi huffed. He nodded for the lanai. “Let’s get out there, our girl needs us.”

The group complied, putting on their idol faces and smiling and waving to the small crowd that gathered as soon as they stepped out into the fairy light lit backyard. Finding her wasn’t hard. She flitted to and fro, handling one disaster or another while keeping a small smile plastered on her face as she played hostess to the hundreds of guests that’d been invited to witness whatever it was Hongjoong had planned to announce.

There even appeared to be several high ranking members of the press hanging around. Most hovering over the buffet style food tables while others interviewed various members of the staff along with guests in the hopes of getting an exclusive on what this party could be about.

“Vultures…” Yoongi muttered as he nursed the cup of punch he’d been handed by some faceless waiter.

“Aye, but they have their use. Keeps the eye on Hongjoong and off of me.” The soft voice that whispered beside him had him instantly grinning.

“Well hi there gorgeous.” He turned to her, eyes darting over her form to take in the sultry green dress she’d donned. The silken material hugged her in places that had him salivating, luckily though he was able to school his features quickly before she or anyone else could notice the hungry look he’d barely been able to control.

“Oh hush Yoongs. You know this is my least favorite dress.” She blushed, turning away from him to subtly fan the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Yeah, that may be. But anyone would be a fool not to appreciate what you’re flaunting.” He snickered half heartedly, hoping she’d take it as a joke and not as the truth he so desperately wanted to scream at her no matter who happened to be watching.

“Thank you for coming, Yoongi…” She whispered, eyes darting over to the grand stage Hongjoong had insisted be set up in the center of the garden.

“Anything for you little moon.” His words went unheard though as Hongjoong chose that moment to clear his throat into the microphone and interrupt any conversation that may have been taking place.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I’d like to have your attention for a moment if you don’t mind!”

“As you are all aware, my family has been a leading edge to our beautiful city for many a generation. My father swore to uphold the law to the best of his ability, and when he passed several years ago it left a void in so many people’s hearts. His father before him served as well, standing with his fellow citizens to fight against oppression and the government corruption that’d been keeping us all down up until his final breath.” Hongjoong bowed his head as the crowd applauded, cheering his forefathers and shouting various praises as to Hongjoong’s own accomplishments.

He held up a hand, shooting them all a winning smile as they quieted down to allow him to continue.

“Pompous prick…” Yoongi muttered, taking a sip of his punch to hide the movement of his lips.

“Tonight we are gathered here, not only in celebration, but in unity. To come together not as reporters and millionaires and chefs and idols. But as fellow citizens brought together by a single cause, to make this city great again! To make our neighborhoods safer and our children safer. To bring us all together under one unified cause so that we can make Seoul great again!”

The crowd roared to life, cheering Hongjoong’s name and surging forward to crowd the stage as he smiled upon them on like so many obedient children.

“And so!” He spoke over the cheers, somehow making himself heard despite the noise. “I’m officially announcing myself as being in the running for mayor. Rejoice! For change is here!”

The woman beside Yoongi squeaked, her face deathly pale as she seemed to be on the verge of either throwing up or passing out. Yoongi knew that look, knew the impending panic attack that came along with it and began ushering her towards the relative safety of the house.

“Yoongi I…”

“Hush little moon, let’s get you inside and away from this crowd.” His fingers curled around her arm and she seemed to want to lean into the touch, but just before they could reach the door she stopped and turned to him with a wide eyed stare.

“I...I was supposed to make sure we had more sauce for the shrimp cocktail… I...I can’t go in just yet…”

A throat cleared behind them and Yoongi instantly dropped his hand, turning to address the newly announced politician.

“Hongjoong..” Yoongi nodded, barely a jerk of his head in confirmation of the man’s presence really but it was just visible enough as to not seem disrespectful of the man’s status.

“Ah! The famous Min Yoongi!” The politician grinned, pulling his woman close and gripping her hip tightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard many good things about you from my precious fiancé.”

Yoongi grunted in response. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, claws growing and sharpening in response to his growing rage. At the first pinch of pain as they broke the skin he released his fists, forcing his fingers to hang limply at his side.

“Y/n, have you dealt with the catering issues my dear?”Hongjoong turned to her, eyes piercing into her own. It was him dismissing her from the conversation.

She glanced over to Yoongi, eyes filled with apology as she bowed low to the both of them, nearly bent in half as she excused herself from the conversation.

Hongjoong watched her leave, his stare predatory in nature as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

“I heard you’re running for mayor.” Yoongi spoke quietly, knowing the puffed up man would be able to hear him over the noise of the crowd of partygoers. 

“Ah, you have?” Hongjoong turned back to Yoongi, that predatory glare still filling his eyes with an insanity that only those born to create chaos and destroy others could possess. “It’s a lofty goal I know. But I feel the need to change things comes with power. And this world could really use a little bit of change don’t you think?”

Yoongi knew he didn’t mean positive change of any kind. This man was far too prone to violence to mean anything more than chaos and destruction. 

“How does y/n feel about all this?” Yoongi casually took a sip of his drink. He angled his body away from Hongjoong slightly, eyes darting around the garden. He spotted Jimin and Namjoon heading towards y/n and a small part of him relaxed greatly.

“Y/n? Now why would her opinion matter in the slightest?”

At that Yoongi returned the entirety of his attention to the mad man. “Why...she’s going to be your wife soon. Doesn’t the idea that she’s being thrust into the limelight bother her?”

Hongjoong shrugged, lifting his glass to take a sip of champagne. “Honestly no. She knew my goals before she said yes. If she has anything negative to say about it she’ll tell me and we can address it accordingly.”

The pure menace in his tone let Yoongi know the discussion wouldn’t be very long and would almost surely end up with her gaining a new bruise or two, if not a trip to the hospital.

“For her sake Hongjoong...I really do hope you have her best interests at heart…” Yoongi turned to the man, his drink long forgotten as he fixed the man with a fierce glare.

“Because if anything else happens to her and I find you...you’ll wish you’d stayed in whatever gutter hole you crawled out of to get here.”

[prentissinred]

Already Gone pt.2

Special shoutout to @eprcntiss for the nudge to write a part two ☺️

Rated T Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss Word Count: 2k  AO3

Part One: Already Gone

Part Two: Love Me Better

Aaron closed the door to the study behind him, pretending he didn't hear that final choked sob. He blinked his own tears back; they had no place on what was supposed to be the second happiest day of his life.

She was leaving.

Some twisted part of him was almost glad. That he no longer had to walk into work and feel like his heart was being slowly carved out of his chest every time she looked at him, every time she got into her own car to return to a home that wasn't theirs. It was unfair to the point of cruelty, having to face the future he had been planning for years, ripped away in the course of an evening...only to return months later, just out of his reach.

He had grieved her, as surely as if she had died on that operating table. Grieved the sight of the diamond he had picked out on her left hand. Grieved the house they'd been eyeing, the one with enough rooms for all the plans they’d made and a yard big enough for the dog they had promised to Jack. Grieved every night of fevered touches under the covers and every night they had been too exhausted to do anything except curl against the warmth of the other.

She had eventually returned, like a phantom coming back to him. Relieved though he was that she was finally safe, there wasn't a moment where he saw her and was not reminded of every deception, every moment she had chosen to tell him that she was fine instead of the truth. Running became the only healthy outlet for the pain. And a few weeks later, it led him to a funny, kind brunette who had him smiling for the first time in over a year.

Beth. He shook himself out of the internal crisis he was having against the wall of Dave's living room. He had to find her, hold her, remind himself why he'd asked her to marry him and why it had felt so right just yesterday. Remind himself of everything good about them. Because she was good — exceedingly so. Because she was not frustrating and complicated and closed-off and asking the worst kinds of questions at the worst possible time. He jogged up the stairs to the master bedroom where she was getting ready with her mother.

“You know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.” Dave’s voice came up behind him.

He gave his friend a wane smile. "I think we can dispense with the superstitions."

"Say what you will, but I said the same thing at my first, and look how well that turned out." Aaron could only chuckle dryly in response.

Dave clapped his arm. “Nervous?”

"A little." He hadn't been. In fact, he’d been filled with certainty at the start of the evening. He tried not to think too much about why that had changed. I loved you. I love you.

"I saw Emily left.” Dave’s voice was pointedly relaxed.

"Oh?"

"Tonight can't have been easy for her." I love you.

"I suppose."

"Mmm. Anyway, I think Beth's just about ready." Dave placed a guiding hand on his shoulder. "We should head down, get this show on the road." Aaron let himself be led down the stairs, glancing back just once at the door that hid his soon-to-be wife from view.

He stood underneath the decorated archway, next to his beaming son, and faced his team, all looking at him with encouraging smiles. He tried to return them, despite the knot that was steadily growing in his stomach. The music started, a lilting, romantic track, as the crowd turned to face the house. Beth emerged, lovely in her strapless gown, carrying a simple bouquet of white roses, walking towards him on her mother's arm.

And maybe it would have been different if he had spoken to her upstairs. Or if he had never walked into Dave's study in the first place. But as Beth took her first step onto the aisle, Aaron knew with an absolute, terrifying clarity that he couldn’t go through with this. That this moment he had been picturing for so long was missing a woman who was currently making plans to leave the country.

Before he could talk himself over to the side of propriety, he walked up the aisle. The music cut off abruptly, and there was a ripple of whispers from his guests. By the time he reached her, pieces of his heart chipped away at the sight of her confused face. He held her hand in both of his and pleaded, "I need to talk to you."

She listened to his insufficient explanation, the tears welling her eyes the only reflection of the hurt he was causing her. He told her that she was beautiful and wonderful and he did love her and she had made him so happy and yesterday there hadn't been a doubt in his mind when he asked her to be his wife. She let him ramble for a while, eventually shutting him up with a cupped hand to his face. Lips pressed lightly against his cheek, then in a voice infinitely kinder than he deserved, she let him go. "I hope you get her back."

And that was it. He stood there, watching her head back up the stairs, and silently wished her every happiness with someone worthy of her.

With a deep breath and a brush over his face to clear any lingering tears, he exited the house with renewed determination to find a huddled group of guests. The only outlier was Beth's mother, who stared at him in consternation before following her daughter into the house without another word to him. At the movement, his team turned towards him, a mixture of confusion and shock on their faces — or, in the case of Dave, an enigmatic smile.

"JJ," Aaron called out.

She approached him, frown lines etched into her forehead and brows. "Aaron, what's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I need your help, please. The address to Emily's new apartment."

Understanding smoothed her features and she gave him a wide grin as she entered the address into his phone. "Oh, and would you mind watching Jack for a little while?"

"Even better, why don't Jack and Henry have a sleepover tonight? What do you say, boys?" JJ presented her plans animatedly to the two boys who had appeared by their feet. Aaron bent down to tell his son that he would explain everything tomorrow, but his words fell on already distracted ears. He thanked her and made his way to his car, the eyes of his friends on his back reminding him that this was his last chance to bring her home.

Her apartment was tucked away in a nondescript brick mid-rise. A far cry from the lush DC duplex he had spent countless nights in. She opened the door on his second knock. Dressed down in shorts and a loose shirt that hung off her shoulder, makeup-free with her curled hair pulled up into a ponytail. She looked as beautiful as she had a few hours ago. Every impassioned word he had rehearsed on his way over landed dead on his tongue, and instead, his first words to her were a brusque, "Can I come in?"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He didn't reply, pressing past her into an apartment he had never entered before. Sparse, only the bare essentials, cardboard boxes stacked in the corner. Nothing more than a passing stop, a sign that she had never really come back to them.

"You told me you love me. Was that the truth?" He stood in the center of her small living room, arms crossed over his chest, his tone more biting than he had planned.

She gaped at him, ignoring the question. "Seriously, Aaron, what the fuck are you doing here?"

He forged on, pacing small steps next to the couch, glancing up at her every few seconds. "It destroyed me, you know. Seeing your credentials open in your desk because you had run. Sitting by your fucking hospital bed because I was too late to save you. Listening to you tell me that you didn’t want to marry me. Everything we had talked about, all the plans we had, just...gone."

“Aaron. I told you, I had to." Her voice broke, but her eyes stayed dry. Aaron wondered if the two of them had shed enough tears over the other to last a lifetime. "I had to—“

“Protect me. I know. But, god, Em." He gestured between them. "We’re supposed to be a team. We work through everything, even the ugly stuff, together. You were supposed to trust that I would be there for you. Not run away, and nearly get yourself killed in the process.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is. It is exactly that simple.”

“No.” Her voice was sharp and resolute. “It isn’t. It was my fight. My past, my mistakes. If you, any of you, had gotten hurt because of that, I could have never lived with myself. You can't tell me you don't understand that."

Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose and decided to cede this particular battle. Maddening, stubborn woman.

“Fine. I accept.”

“What?”

"I accept that you did what you had to do. That you thought you had to handle it alone. I accept why you left then." He stepped closer to her and she unconsciously took a step back, nearly flush with her front door. "But why are you leaving now?"

"This again..." she sighed wearily. "Aaron, I told you. I can't stay here anymore."

"And why is that?"

He watched her nostrils flare in indignation. "Fuck, because I can't! I can't pretend anymore, I won't do it. I came back expecting my life to go back to normal. Except it isn't normal. It isn’t even my life anymore. I'm like a fucking spectator, watching everyone move on while I can’t. "

The implication — accusation — was clear, and the guilt struck hard and low in his gut. Her only mistake was thinking that he had ever really moved on.

"I'm sorry," his voice shifted to quiet contriteness. "I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me. It hurt too much to be around you. And you seemed...okay. So I convinced myself you were."

She said nothing for a while, her arms wrapping around her middle defensively. "It's okay. It wasn't your job to take care of me. You've already done more—"

"Emily, why don't you get it?" The frustration pierced through once more, coming out more desperate than anything else.

"Get what?!" she rose to his pitch.

"You're supposed to depend on me. We’re supposed to depend on each other. I know you're strong, you're so fucking strong sweetheart, but I get to take care of you sometimes too. Fuck, how are we supposed to spend the rest of our lives together if you can’t trust me enough to do that?”

She sucked in a sharp breath and her entire body, even the air around them, shifted. “Spend the rest of our lives together?”

“Of course. I thought that was fairly obvious.”

She glared at him. “It really wasn't."

“Oh. My apologies.” He stepped closer to her. “Consider this your notice then.”

He caught the way her lips turned up for a split second before she remembered herself, wanting to hold onto her heated temper for a little longer. “Where’s Beth?”

“At home, I suspect.”

“I already told Easter I’d take the job.” Her voice was just a whisper now, devoid of almost all conviction.

“What, like 2 hours ago? Call him back, Emily.”

He was looming over her, barely an inch of space between them, their eyes locked onto each other. It was a different kind of battle, the kind where victory only came when neither side backed down.

Finally — “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, I'll call him back."

There wasn't an adequate word to describe the relief he felt at those five words. Every inch of him ached to touch her, but he held onto his patience for a few more seconds, bending his head towards her and whispering, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Her eyes were closed in anticipation. "What question?" she breathed.

"Were you telling me the truth? When you said you love me?"

"Don't be an idiot. Of course I was." And she pushed up on her toes and closed the gap between them.

It felt like coming home. There were still discussions to be had and arguments to be fought as they re-learned and re-trusted. But, for now, the familiar taste of her warmed every particle in his body until he was practically vibrating with want. It was desperate and urgent, their lips and teeth and tongues clashing and biting and invading. His hands roamed the entirety of her, a need to ensure that she was really here this time. She clung to him just as tightly, pressing into him until he could feel her heart hammering away in her chest.

When they pulled apart, both gasping for the air that had escaped their lungs, he touched his forehead to hers. "In case this wasn't obvious either...I’ve never stopped loving you."

[sunsetcurve]

t... tiara thief + “have you been waiting up this whole time?”

fandom: knight squad relationships: arc/ciara, pre-relationship word count: 1,482 a/n: okay, first of all, i want to thank you for this prompt because it single-handedly pulled me out of the writer’s block i’ve been suffering for months. i haven’t completed something in a hot minute, so despite the fact that i wrote this all in one go while i was supposed to be studying for my calc test tomorrow and reading it over once was the extent of my editing so it’s probably Not Very Good, writing it made me incredibly happy. it’s so fluffy and i love writing their dynamic and just,, it’s such a great prompt for them and i hope you guys like it! dedications: tagging my dearest fellow tiara thief stans:  @ciara-knightly@perhapspearl @mistyskiesrambles @willexs @taylorswiftrulestheworld @onplanetmars @neshatriumphs @zackmartin @knghtsquad @soni-dragon @hopefulbeautifulfool @cactus-con @waterisntreal @bitchmilsky summary: In the morning, she’ll chalk it up to the fact that she’s not thinking straight. She’s too tired to think about the implications of it, too out of it to actually use her better judgement. And too lonely. She’s been Princess Angelica for days—she wants to be Ciara for a night. She misses Arc, misses having his steady presence by her side, familiar and constant and unconditional. She just wants him to stay.

It’s late by the time Ciara makes it back. The castle is still and dark and dead-quiet as she approaches her bedroom, heels dangling from one hand and the skirts of her dress pulled up in the other, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. 

It’s not the muscle-aching, satisfying sort of tired that always comes after a long day of training or a successful mission, though—it’s the kind of weariness that’s accompanied by flashes of irritation and leaves her feeling more than a little drained. Not for the first time, the itch of resentment towards her Princess duties crawls under her skin. She should’ve spent the last few days on a daring quest with her squad, not faking smiles through ball after ball. But it’s the height of trade season; they have appearances to keep and responsibilities to fulfill. There’s a whole mess of politics involved that she’s slowly familiarizing herself with, getting comfortable with her position. And yet she misses the tension of her bow, the adrenaline rush of a fight, the thrill of a good adventure—and she misses her team.

They should be back by now. She was supposed to meet them in the training yard tonight, but the party ran long and she couldn’t pull herself away, so she’d had to cancel at the last minute. They’re meeting at the Tasty Trunk first thing in the morning to catch up over breakfast, but still, she’s half-tempted to take her passageway into the squad room and see them right now. 

But it’s late, and they’ve just gotten back—they’ll all be asleep. 

Ciara huffs a minute sigh and pushes open her door. She should get some rest, anyway, so she’ll be ready for training in the morning with a slew of excuses about her miraculous recovery from an illness that didn’t really exist. When she sees her bed, another wave of tiredness hits her full-force; she’s almost ready to throw herself under the covers without even changing out of her gown.

Except she can’t. Because there’s a figure slumped in the armchair by the balcony.

Her hand goes instinctively to her side, before realizing that she’s not in her gear and therefore doesn’t have a weapon. Mind whirring, she weighs the risk of transforming in front of this person—but after a moment, she realizes that they haven’t moved. She shuffles her feet to get a better angle, and moonlight spills over a head of blonde hair, rumpled clothes, and a dark green shoulder pad.

“Arc?” Ciara hisses.

“Wh—” He jerks awake, falling right out of the chair. His sword is still sheathed, but it hits the floor with a clang, and the sound rings through the room and makes her wince. His head jolts around before his wide eyes land on her. “Ciara! Hey, hi! Fancy seeing you h—here,” he finishes around a yawn, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

“You’re in my room,” she says pointedly. There’s a part of her that thinks she should be annoyed, that she’s tired, and he scared her, and the noise probably woke half the castle, but in truth she’s just happy that he’s here. She would never say it out loud, but seeing him makes something in her chest swell.

“Hmmf...touche.” He smacks his lips, clearly still half-asleep even after being startled, and Ciara registers that he’s streaked with dirt and dressed in his gear.

“When did you get back?” she asks as he pulls himself into a sitting position and redoes the top few buttons of his shirt.

“A few hours ago.”

“Have you been waiting up this whole time?”

Arc rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, and the gesture is so painfully endearing that Ciara feels herself melt a little, a rush of fondness surging through her. “We were s’pposed to meet up in the training yard,” he says, and yawns again. 

“I sent you a mirror message that I couldn’t make it.”

“Well, yeah, but I had to come chew you out in person for bailing on us.” He pouts, nothing serious behind his words, and Ciara finds herself lifting a hand to hide her giggle.

“Oh, yeah? Chew away.”

He fixates her with his drowsy eyes and says, with the utmost sincerity, “You suck. And—and I hope you find dragon dung in your pillow.”

She laughs openly now, the happiness and easy comfort of seeing him pushing away every negative emotion from the night. “Just say you missed me,” she grins teasingly.

“I did not.”

“Mhm.”

“I hope—I hope Sage covers you in unicorn poop again. I hope someone steals all of your tiaras, even the sparkliest one. I hope your snack catapult breaks.”

She gasps. “Take that back!”

“No. You deserve it.” He gives a little self-satisfied smirk, his eyes fluttering shut. It’s obvious that he’s just about ready to pass out again, and as Ciara tries and fails to stifle a yawn she remembers that she’s not that far off either. She moves to nudge him with her foot.

“C’mon, get up.” 

He groans and swats blindly at her. “I can’t. I’ve lost that ability. Also, my back hurts. Your chair is not as comfortable as it looks—false advertising.”

“I didn’t ask you to sleep there,” she snorts, kicking him again. 

Arc blinks his eyes open at last and lifts a hand into the air, looking up at her expectantly. She rolls her eyes and takes it, hauling him off the floor. “Idiot,” she grumbles, though she can’t keep the affection out of it. 

“Your idiot,” he responds without missing a beat. Distantly, she thinks that she’s going to wonder over that line again and again when she’s not so sleep-deprived. In the moment, though, it just feels right.

“M’kay, I am going to bed,” Arc announces blearily, and starts making his way to her passageway. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You don’t have to go,” she says, and then bites her lip. Maybe if she had an ounce of impulse control left over, she would’ve stopped herself, but she doesn’t. 

He stops in his tracks and turns to her. “No offense, but I think the beds in the squad room are more comfortable than your floor, if only by a little—”

In the morning, she’ll chalk it up to the fact that she’s not thinking straight. She’s too tired to think about the implications of it, too out of it to actually use her better judgement. And too lonely. She’s been Princess Angelica for days—she wants to be Ciara for a night. She misses Arc, misses having his steady presence by her side, familiar and constant and unconditional. She just wants him to stay. The words stumble out: “My bed’s big enough for both of us.”

He blinks at her. Tilts his head, like he’s trying to tell if she’s serious or not. He opens his mouth and then closes it, rubs at the inside of his eye with his fist, and then says finally, “Are you sure?”

She shrugs. “As long as you’re out by morning, or my dad will flay you alive.”

“I’m not afraid of your dad.”

“He’ll call my sister.”

He winces. “Okay, her, I’m scared of.”

Ciara laughs a little and holds her hand out to him, palm-up, and he slips his fingers between hers and lets her tug him towards her bed. He strips off his vest and his shoulder pad and sheath, and she takes the tiara off her head and lets her hair loose from its updo. She doesn’t have the energy to change out of her dress right now, just aches for the warmth of her covers and the softness of her pillow.

When she turns back around, Arc is staring at her. There’s exhaustion still worked into the corners of his face, but there’s something else, too—a sort of softness behind his eyes, a little burst of affection.

She smiles to herself and crawls into bed, burrowing into the sheets. “C’mon,” she tells him quietly, patting the empty space beside her, and he hesitates for a moment before nestling into place.

His whole body goes limp almost instantly. “I’m going back to my thieving ways for one last heist,” he mumbles, muffled by her pillow. “I’m stealing your bed.”

“Not allowed.” He’s warm and soft beside her. She presses close to his shoulder, her eyes slipping closed. “You smell like sewage,” she hums.

“Fought a troll.”

“Did you win?”

“Duh.” His breathing slows, and she matches its pace without thinking about it. She feels light and safe and floating, and she’s barely half-awake when his quiet voice breaks through her haze again. “Ciara?”

“Hm?”

“I did miss you.”

She nuzzles into his chest, warmth flooding through her at the knowledge that she’ll wake up next to him. Even as she’s drifting out of consciousness, she feels herself smile. “I know.”

[astarryon]

Promise Me

Red is a Wondrous Color

Warnings: Gentle jealousy

Chapter Summary: Spencer knew he started wearing scarves for a reason.

Masterlist

Chapter One: You’ll Always Have Me

It isn’t often that Spencer is left feeling powerless.

It happens on occasion. As unfortunate as it is, it’s a hazard of the job and comes with the territory, and, more out of necessity than anything else, Spencer has gotten very good at recognizing that there will always be those certain situations that he can’t control. His genetic predisposition to schizophrenia, always dancing at the back of his mind, the possibility of what awaits him in the future a constant taunt he’s never quite been able to ease. That nasty drug habit he’d picked up all those years ago, one he hasn’t acted on since finally getting clean but that his nerves always ache to feed when he gets just a little too stressed to cope. Those particularly difficult cases where the unsub turns out to be little more than a kid and he can’t seem to find the right words to get everyone out of a hostile situation safely, the results of which usually manifest in someone who the world didn’t try hard enough for dying right in front of his eyes.

But just because it doesn’t happen often doesn’t mean it never happens, and as Spencer wraps his scarf around his throat before exiting Quantico into the abnormally wintry air, his eyes fall upon your form standing in the distance, and — not for the first time where you’re concerned, though recalling how many times it’s actually happened is just a little too embarrassing to stomach for the night — he stops dead in his tracks in awe.

Red is Spencer’s favorite color on you. It’s taken some time for him to figure that out. Flashy as it is, you never have the chance to wear much of it in the field, which is a loss he takes the time to mourn whenever he recalls the team’s last Christmas party at Rossi’s, when you’d been clad in a dress of silk and crimson and insisted he sway along to Billie Holiday with you in the living room despite his meek protests. Something about that dress brought out the rose blush in your cheeks, set your eyes off with mischief and delight, made the fringe of your lashes appear that much darker. It also made his mind wander with thoughts he’s still not entirely sure he’s allowed to have, so he’d gazed at you as respectfully as he could and tried not to focus too much on the feel of your breath against his neck.

It’s a wondrous color, red. An enchanting color.

And you’re wearing it now as you stand with your arms crossed over your chest to serve as protection from the cold, though he’s not really sure how much that’ll help with the expanse of your legs, moonlit and glittering, bared to the wind. You’re also bawling your eyes out, and it’s noticing this that finally stops Spencer standing there like an idiot with his mouth hanging open and starts his feet carrying him toward you at a pace that would make Morgan proud.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, and he immediately has to squash the urge to kick himself. You’re standing here, alone in the cold, dressed like that and openly sobbing. It doesn’t take a profiler to see that nothing is okay for you right now.

Your eyes widen at the sound of his voice, and he might take the time to marvel at how cute you look when startled if he wasn’t otherwise preoccupied with concern for your well-being. “Oh,” you breathe, hands instantly reaching up to swat at the tears trailing messily down your face. It won’t do you any good, not with the black streaks of mascara staining your skin, but Spencer knows enough not to point that out. “H-Hey, Spence. I thought you’d have gone home by now.”

“Yeah, I was supposed to,” he responds, trying for a kind, reassuring smile and remaining unsure of whether it actually appears. Try as he might, he can’t bring himself to care. He doesn’t want to pretend not to notice your pain, even though he knows you probably rather he do. What he does want is... something he doesn’t think he can have. “I got a little caught up going over my closing report. What about you? You left a couple hours ago, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you sniff, and Spencer is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to reach up and wipe the rest of the tears from your face himself. “Um... I had a date, actually.”

“Oh,” he says, making a concentrated effort to keep his voice light. “And you... came back to the office?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, though it comes out more as a garbled choke. “Yeah, I guess it didn’t go so well. I was going to go home, but at some point I turned around and kind of just... ended up here.” You shrug, your eyes falling to the ground, and Spencer follows your gaze down to your red toenails, gleaming in the lamp light and contrasting starkly against the black of your strappy heels. “I just didn’t think I could handle being alone right now. So.”

It’s difficult not to make assumptions in that moment, and though he tries, he feels his chest swell with an inappropriate surge of protectiveness. Again, it doesn’t take a profiler to read the implications of this situation, or to know that something has to have gone terribly wrong in the three hours since he’s last seen you. He can’t do much about the crying — he’s never been good with tears, no matter who they’re coming from — but his mind tumbles violently with the possibilities of what all could have gone wrong on your date, and his limbs itch to track down whoever’s responsible for getting you to this point of emotional distress and... and... telling them off with some strong vocabulary at the very least.

But there’s no use in that. He can’t change what’s already happened, and he doubts you’d let him go and yell at whoever’s done this to you. Anyway, you’re standing here in front of him, wide eyed and shivering. He might not be able to do much about the crying — he might not even be able to do anything about the reason for your crying. But... maybe there’s a chance he can soothe the pain, at least a little.

“What about you?”

Your voice startles him out of his reverie, bringing him back to full consciousness of the situation at hand, and he’s embarrassed that he’s gotten so caught up in thoughts of defending you that he actually has no idea what you’re asking him. “Me?”

You nod, a wobbly smile edging at the corners of your ruby red lips. So much red. It really does suit you wonderfully. “Yeah, you. You don’t have any plans tonight?” He furrows his brow, searching your face for any hint of your meaning. Three seconds later, and his obvious cluelessness manages to pull a more substantial laugh out of you. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Spencer. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I didn’t,” he defends, and it isn’t untrue. Morgan spent the whole day detailing his extravagant plans for the night, Will had sent in quite the rose bouquet for JJ, and even Hotch had been quite a bit more preoccupied with his phone than was typical. Valentine’s Day. Reid knows it’s a special day to the calendar, but it doesn’t hold any significance for him. “But, no, no plans. I was actually just on my way home to skim over Dante’s Inferno.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in a sarcastic manner, and Spencer’s just relieved that he’s managed to cheer you up enough that you let your eyes wander back to his face. “What is that, like, the sixth time this week?”

He shrugs a shoulder, unsure as to the reason for the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. “Classics never get old.” And then, because he’s an idiot with an ironically one track mind where you’re involved, he adds, “I... like your dress. You look really beautiful tonight.”

“You’re sweet,” you murmur, unsuccessfully attempting to conceal another sniffle. Not at all, actually. ‘Sweet’ implies deception. ‘Sweet’ makes it sound like he’s just trying to soothe your ego with flattery, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s not saying it because he thinks you want to hear it, he’s saying it because it’s the truth and he knows it like he knows the sky is blue and the earth is green. He wishes he could convince you to see it that way. “Shame it’s going to have to go to waste, huh? Guess there’s always next year.

“Well it... doesn’t have to,” he stammers. “Go to waste, I mean.” He’s not sure where the bravery for his outburst comes, and he doesn’t particularly care to pursue figuring it out. His senses are screaming at him, going into shock with the sudden uptake in adrenaline pumping through his body, but he only swallows and forces himself to finish. “Not if you don’t want it to.” You only blink at him in silent confusion, trying to puzzle together his meaning. His heart hammers against his chest so hard it’s a wonder you can’t seem to hear it. “There’s a planetarium in town that’s staying open late for the night. When you lay back in the seats under the projector and look up at the stars you lose your central sense of gravity and trick your body into experiencing a floating sensation. It can be kind of off putting at first, but it helps to hold onto something. Which—“ He should really quit while he’s ahead —  “you could hold my hand. If you wanted to. And we could, we could go to the planetarium. Together.”

He watches as you blink, once, then twice, then three times, and all the while his heart’s pace never deadens for even a moment. When your eyes finally focus back on him, eons have passed and stars have expanded into supernovas, all within a few short moments. “You’re… Spencer, are you offering to take me on a date?”

Yes.

No.

... Yes.

The wind picks up suddenly, ruffling your skirt in the breeze, caressing the loose tendrils of your hair. The scent is so intoxicating that it nearly stops Spencer from noticing you shivering once again, and before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s unwinding his scarf from around his neck and taking a confident step toward you.

“Well, it’s like you said,” Spencer responds, wrapping the scarf over your bare shoulders. It’s grey wool and it doesn’t match your dress in the slightest, but he likes seeing you in something of his, and he especially like the way you instantly curl into the garment, inhaling his scent as deeply as he’d been inhaling yours off the breeze. “I don’t have any other plans, and it would be a shame for that dress to go to waste.” He offers his arm for you to accept, unable to pinpoint where this sudden burst of confidence is stemming from. He almost wishes Morgan were here to see it. “Would it make a difference if I promised to have you home by midnight?”

Again, you’re silent, save for another bout of sniffles. Spencer is horrified to see fresh tears brimming in your eyes, coupled with a wobbly frown, and is met with the sudden fear that he’s managed to screw this up — because he always screws things up for himself, even when he’s not trying and even when he’s actually just trying to find more reasons to smile. He’s made you cry now, too, which makes him no better than whichever monster ruined your night in the first place. Any second now you’ll recoil from his offer and tell him to get lost, at which point he will only be able to clutch his wounded pride, and—

You nudge his arm aside and barrel forward to wrap your arms around his middle instead, clutching him close and tight and squeezing just enough to make him feel like an offered lifeline. Well. If you hadn’t been able to hear his heartbeat before, there isn’t any way you don’t hear it now.

“I love you, Spence,” you murmur into his shoulder, and he’s so mesmerized by the perfect fit of your cheek against the base of his throat that he almost doesn’t totally register what it is you’ve just said. “I don’t tell you that near as much as I should.”

Butterflies. You’re prompting butterflies to flutter through his stomach. Like he’s nothing more than a twelve year old schoolboy with a crush on the sweetest girl in class.

“Let’s get going,” he chuckles, smiling down upon you with fondness as he steps back and winds his arm around yours. Huh. Maybe Valentine’s Day shouldn’t be so easily written off after all. “We don’t want to keep the stars waiting, do we?”

“No,” you laugh — actually laugh! — as you rest your head against his shoulder. “I don’t think we do.”

And as the two of you walk down the street, arm in arm, excitement and giddiness charging each and every one of your steps, Spencer can’t help but ponder the fact that he’d left work expecting one sort of inferno for the night and stepped out only to find himself engulfed in a different one entirely.

It’s almost kind of poetic.

—

Chapter Three: In the Name of Dry Shoes

[easily-infatuated23]

Truth or Dare? (George x Reader x Draco)

Part One: The Party, Part Two: The Agreement

a/n: i’ve had the idea for a love triangle in my head so thats kinda what this is. if you want a part two or different characters in a triangle let me know!

pairing: George Weasley x Reader x Draco Malfoy (platonic! Hermione, Ron, Harry, Fred)

word count: 2k

warnings: underage drinking, *mudblood* 

summary: After receiving an invite to a Slytherin party, Reader and her friends play a game of truth or dare with the added stake of Veritaserum

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had heard the rumors about the Slytherin parties but this was ridiculous. The common room was a strange mix of expertly decorated and completely trashed. These exclusive, Slytherin only, parties had been a mystery to most of the school except for a few rumors. The first was that everyone would get wasted beyond belief, seemingly obvious but a rumor nonetheless. The second is less of a rumor and more of a warning, emulating from even the inner most circle of Slytherin royalty; don’t play truth or dare. The game had a history of going nuclear and destroying friendships, self esteem, anything and everything. Once, a game had apparently gone so badly that Pansy Parkinson avoided Draco Malfoy for a month. The girl who would latch herself to him and not let go, actively avoided him. We never figured out why.

“I bet he finally told her that he can’t stand her” Ron joked. “That’s not exactly a secret Ronald, he tells her he hates her almost as much as he says it to me!” Hermione quipped back. The scene in front of me now, confirmed this warning of the parties going nuclear. No one was sure who sent out the invites but one morning at breakfast, a select few Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff students got mysterious green envelopes containing a piece of parchment. On the parchment were three things, a time, a place, and a sentence with instructions. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I sat in the Gryffindor common room, all surveying our letters. I held my letter up, dumbfounded at its implications. “Did we really get invited to a Slytherin party?” Harry asked. Hermione bit her lip, deep in thought. She was clearly running through the different scenarios that would occur if we went. “It appears so” I replied. “9 o’clock, Slytherin common room, knock three times” I read aloud. “Blimey” Ron muttered. “I don’t know if this is a good idea” Hermione said finally. “It’s probably a really bad idea but I have to admit, my curiosity is getting the better if me” I said. We all shifted uncomfortably, the other three clearly feeling the same way. Just then Fred and George sauntered into the Gryffindor common room. “Ah I see we weren’t the only ones to receive these” George said, pulling a green envelope out of his pocket. “We are definitely going” Fred added. “But with the sole purpose of planting some epic pranks around the common room” he smirked. I rolled my eyes. “That settles it then, we all have to go and restrain these two from doing too much damage” Hermione decided.

That night Hermione and I were talking as we got ready in the dorm room. I pulled on a pair of blue skinny jeans and a black crop top that exposed my whole back, the fabric was only held together by a few skinny elastic straps. Hermione applied some tinted chapstick as I finished lacing up my Doc Marten’s. There was an air of excitement but also nervousness in the room. At 8:45 we met the boys in the common room. I couldn’t help but notice their stares linger on my back as I walked past, all except for Ron. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Hermione.

“Right so ground rules,” Hermione began as she paced back and forth. “Don’t get too drunk, don’t do anything stupid, and don’t play truth or dare”. As she said the last point she looked me directly in the eyes. I shook my head and giggled slightly. “I’m sorry Hermione but if it comes up I’m gonna do it. Back in elementary school and especially during the summer with my muggle friends it’s like my favorite game to play.” She eyed me suspiciously. “Don’t worry Granger, if it comes up I’ll play with her to make sure she doesn’t do anything too stupid” George said, flashing a smile and winking at me. I smiled then rolled my eyes. “Lets get going before we change our minds” I said, pushing a decidedly paler Ron outside of the door.

Once we got to the dungeons, we paused. The twins looked at each other and smiled, hands in pockets. “Ready Fred?” “Ready George!”. Fred then stretched out his hand and knocked three times. The door swung open and we were hit with the sounds of loud music and laughter. We entered into the common room and were greeted with the sight of people dancing and grinding as well as people making out on the leather couches. A glint of platinum blonde hair caught my eyes from across the room. Draco Malfoy. He was surrounded by his posse of pure-blood assholes when he turned and saw us standing by the entrance. He smirked and turned, making his way towards us. “Well look who it is.” He said, his eyes not leaving Harry as he scowled. “Potter and his little friends actually came, even that stupid mudblood” Pansy added, reclaiming her spot on Draco’s arm. I could tell the boys were all about to pounce with anger so I quickly stepped in front and faced them. “Come on guys, let’s go get a drink. This ferret and his cockroach girlfriend aren’t worth it”. I turned back to face the two Slytherins before leading my friends to the drinks table. As I had turned, I couldn’t help but notice that Draco’s gaze had softened a bit and he was staring at me. I brushed it off as I grabbed a cup and filled it with firewiskey before pulling out my wand. I muttered a spell and the liquid turned clear. “What did you do to your drink?” Hermione asked, trying to forget the awful thing Pansy had called her. “I never liked firewiskey, vodka has always been my preference” I replied. She shrugged and poured herself some water.

I love dancing at parties. There is something about being tucked between sweaty bodies and moving without a care in the world that was freeing. I was holding Hermione’s hand as she watched in horror at some of my moves. “Just let loose and pretend that no one is watching,” I started, glancing over at Ron who was sitting on the outskirts of the dance floor. “Or that just one particular person is watching” I giggled. Hermione looked behind her, seeing Ron staring at her. She blushed and hit me on the arm. “It’s not like you don’t have your own watch party. I swear half of the guys in here have their eyes glued to you.” She wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t care. I came here to have a good time and that’s exactly what I was having. Then, the music slowly faded out and Draco stood up from his place on the couch. “I think it’s time we play a little game of truth or dare” he said. His posse snickered while Pansy just crossed her arms and scowled. “I’m gonna go get a refill” I said to Hermione, quickly filling up my cup and joining a growing circle of people. In the game was Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Harry, Fred, George, Ron, Me, and a very uneasy Hermione. The game began pretty tame, consisting mainly of people being dared to drink more or admit which professor they thought could ‘get it’. It was fun, but not the scandalous game I was hoping for.

“Lets make this a bit more interesting” Draco said finally, pulling a small vial out of his pocket. “Whats that?” Harry asked. “Blimey, that’s Veritaserum” Ron answered. “I am not doing that” Hermione said. “Then just watch Granger, don’t be a buzzkill” Pansy said. I shot her a look, she rolled her eyes and looked back at Draco. “Who’s brave enough?” Draco said suggestively, waving he vial around the circle. “I’m in” I said. The whole circle looked to me, surprised. “Are you sure, you could end up telling us your deepest darkest secret” Draco replied menacingly. I sat forward and held my cup out. “I’m an open book Malfoy” I said, raising an eyebrow. The whole circle oohed excitedly, the drama they had wanted was finally beginning. “I’m in too” Pansy said defensively. “Alright fine” George said. “I won’t let Y/N go down alone”. There was a small chorus of groans as the rest of the group (minus Hermione and Ron) agreed to have a few drops added to their drinks. I smiled. Now the game was really beginning.

The questions again started out tame but really started to ramp up. “So,” I began, scanning the group, trying to decide who to ask. “Malfoy, truth or dare?”. He smirked. “Truth”. I thought for a moment. “Do you actually hate Hermione or are you just jealous that she’s smarter than you?”. The group oohed in anticipation. “I hate that she is as good at magic as she is even though she’s muggle-born, but her as a person I don’t hate”. He looked side to side, clearly a bit embarrassed by his answer. I was surprised. Not only had he admitted he didn’t really hate Hermione but he also said ‘muggle-born’ and not ‘mudblood’. “Y/N truth or dare?” Draco immediately asked. “Truth” I said, taking another sip of my drink. “If you had to hookup with anyone in this room who would it be?”. I paused, looking around the room. There was silence as the anticipation for my answer grew. “I don’t know” I replied. “There isn’t just one that I can pick, so, any volunteers?” I finished suggestively, laughing as I took another sip. When my eyes raised back up to the circle, my jaw dropped. Two people had their hands raised, as if they were answering my jest about volunteers seriously. I gulped. It was Draco and George.

The room fell silent as the two slowly put their hands down. “Well, I hadn’t anticipate that but I appreciate the enthusiasm boys” I joked, trying to relieve the tension. “I think it would be best if we left now” Hermione said suddenly. She grabbed my hand forcing me to stand up. “Come on guys” she said, nodding her head at the rest of the Gryffindor’s. We all stood up but before I could get to the door Draco grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to him. “So, was I on your list?” he asked, a slight smile forming on his face. “The serum has worn off just enough that I don’t think you’ll be getting that answer tonight” I said. “When you are ready to answer that, I’ll be waiting darling” he said. He started to lean in as if he was going to kiss me, but George stepped in between us and pushed Draco back. “Watch it Malfoy” he said, a touch of anger in his voice. “Back off Tweedle-Dumb, you’re just mad because you know she wouldn’t choose you over me” Draco rebutted. What is going on? Were George and Draco really fighting over me? I stepped between the two boys. “Lets all just calm down-” I started. “Would you?” George asked, looking me directly in the eyes. “I - uh- I..” the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I looked at both boys. “It’s hard to say, I would have picked either of you, honestly. But this is just getting a little out of hand, we are all a bit drunk so let’s just get out of here and forget about it” I said. “Oh no,” Draco said. “This is just the beginning. I’m gonna get you Y/N. You won’t be able to stop your self from falling in love with me” he smirked. “Not if she falls for me first” George interjected. I lifted my hands up defensively and walking backwards. “This is not happening… this is not happening…this is just a dream” I repeated, slowly exiting the common room. The boys were still standing facing each other, glaring and bickering. “Well, someones popular” Fred said putting his arm around me as he led me away from the dungeons. I looked at him and then at Hermione who was staring at me with a worried expression across her face. “This is gonna be hell” I said. “Yes, yes it is” she said, allowing her self to chuckled as she linked arms with me and led me back to the dorms.