#by tipping do you mean cutting off 15% of their head every month

[mytearsrricochet]

“consider tipping 15% to your landlord on your rent every month especially if you bother them at 2 am” I would sooner tip 15% to Taylor Swift on my eras tour ticket

[i-heart-yellowstone]

14 - The Old Gang

Part 15

Raised Fair Share of Hell

Tag list @bvbwestfall @hcwthewestwaswcn @child-of-of-the-sunshine @elenavampire21 @keep-the-wolves-close @kmc1989 @tallrock35

Beth and I walked inside the bar immediately going up to buy drinks and just talk.  Taking a long drink from my beer before I sat the bottle down before my sister in law sent me a very serious look across her face.  “We need to talk about the people coming after your and my family's land.  Like it or not we all have to fight these invaders together.” 

“I agree but we need to include my sister in our conversations.” Nodding my head I knew she would fight like hell as possible. 

The bar door opened where I heard someone walking up behind me and covering my eyes where I went to elbow the person until I recognized the cheeky laugh.  “Sure been a while since I’ve seen you around here, Bonnie.”

“Evan Hunter, I can’t believe you’re still wearing the same Guns and Roses tea shirt from freshman year of high school.” I snorted out a laugh knowing he loved the band. 

Evan lowered his head ruffling my hair.  “You know I still love the band even if they ain’t current.” 

“What no hug for your old buddy?” Jake, one of Kayce’s childhood friends, came up to me carrying a beer in his hand. 

Throwing my arms around him in a hug I laughed again at his chest, happy to see him again.  “Hey Jake, ohh.  It’s good to see you.” 

“Hey Jake, I got the pool table all set up - Alissa?” Jake and I both turned our heads where I saw Kayce grab his former navy buddies shoulder until he noticed me standing there. 

I snapped sharply back at my father’s daughter. “What are you doing here?” 

“I'm here to play pool and drink beer with my friends.  I didn’t think you’d be here.” Kayce shrugged his shoulders in response. 

Rolling my eyes I pushed my way past him grabbing one of the pool sticks.  Leaning downward on the green table I got ready to shoot my shot but the father of my child sat his beer bottle in front of the tip of my pool stick.  “Seriously Kayce!” 

“I wanna talk to you.” He responded. 

Straightening my back I hit the end of the pool stick on the floor.  “Oh really cause I thought you told me to get out of your house after we had our fight.” 

“You got all bent out of shape when I told you I saw you with Ryan, remember.” 

Giving him the middle finger I got up in his face where our noses touched one another.  “You had no right to spy on us.  What I do with my life is my business!” 

“I’m still a part of your life regardless of how you feel about me.  We have a daughter together too.” 

Ewan slapped his hand on each of our shoulders changing the conversation back to the game.  “Hey, how about we start that pool game huh?” And so that’s exactly what we did: it was me and Jake against Kacey and Ewan.  Kayce and I were tied up. 

“Okay Kayce, it’s just you and Lissa.  Clutch time, man.  It’s just the state playoffs.  We’re down by six.  Eight seconds to go.  We need a 52 yard bomb!” Jake raised his fist in the air causing everyone in the crowd to cheer with him.  He glanced over in my direction where I was finishing a shot in my hands.  “Do you remember that, Lissa?” 

Sitting my glass down on the bar table I shifted my gaze to my best friend.  “Sure do cause that’s the night Kayce got me pregnant.” 

“Why don’t you go public with that shit.” 

Slowly walking up to him I pushed hair away that had fallen in front of my face.  “Oh please it’s not like anybody at this bar didn’t already know that.  I mean we all know he knocked up another girl he barely knew a few months after that when he got drunk at a bonfire-“ 

“Don’t you think that I have regretted that mistake every day of my life!” Kayce cut me off sharply. 

“It doesn’t seem that you care, Dutton.  Otherwise you would have stopped seeing her.” I snapped back at him sharply. 

Kayce dropped his pool stick on the floor stomping up to get inside my face with our noses pressed against one another.  “Oh like you mean like I should just get over the fact that you slept with another guy behind my back.” 

“It’s called a hook up, Kayce!” 

He shouted back at me.  “That doesn’t change the fact that you said you didn’t love me anymore.” 

“Hey, why don’t you just back off of her.” Ryan came over to us gently shoving the father of my child away from me. 

Kayce glared at turning his hands into fists, before he pushed him nearly into the nearest bar table.  “Stay out of this, ranch hand.” 

Ryan got to his feet swinging a fist at him yet he dodged it.  The two boys went back and forth trying to throw a punch at the other.  Ryan got some in good hits but he did manage to drop Kayce on the ground once or twice but he didn’t back down from the fight. 

I ran putting myself in front of Ryan so he didn’t get another punch raising my voice in defense. “Don’t put your hands on him - Ugg!” Kayce raised his fist up accidentally knocking me straight in the nose where I collapsed down onto my back on the bar floor.   Holding my nose I noticed some blood before the bar owner grabbed him by his shoulder dragging him towards the door. 

Ryan helped me up from the floor, not seeing some police officers coming in our direction until I caught sight of one of them take out handcuffs.  “Can I help you, officers?” 

“You’re under arrest, Alissa Dutton.” I recognize Sheriff Haskell stepping around the two officers and holding the handcuffs. 

Knitting my brows together I asked.  “Wait what.  What have I done?” 

“You took a swing at the Livestock Commissioner's son.” 

Dropping my hands down at my sides I rolled my eyes in disbelief.  “Come on, Haskell.  It was in self defense and I didn’t even actually hit him.” 

“I’m still taking you in.  And remember I can still charge you and Kayce for blowing up the old water tower.” The sheriff grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around and slapping handcuffs on my twisted arms that were pinned around my back.   The police department was convinced to drop the charges after John had a long conversation with his friend.  

Ryan called out my name with Beth running outside watching me get shoved into the backseat of the police car.  “Alissa!” 

“Beth, call my sister.” 

She nodded with a stern look on her face.  “I’ll get the charges dropped don’t you worry.” The car door shut in my face and we drove to the department where I spent a night in a small cell. 

Rubbing my eyes I woke up the next morning after hearing somebody else groaning loudly waking me up.  Pushing myself to sit up some against the stone wall I blinked the sleep from my eyes recognizing a black Cowboy laying at my feet.  Trailing my eyes upward I growled in annoyance.  “Kayce John Dutton, what the hell are you doing in my cell?” 

“I have no idea.” Kayce groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

Not a moment later the cell block door opened where a guard stepped inside and I saw my sister coming in behind him.  Scrambling to my feet I gently grabbed the bars staring at her when she stood directly in front of me.  “Alana, pay my bail and get me out of here.” 

“I can’t do that, sis.” She responded. 

Knitting my brows I didn’t understand what she meant.  “Look tell daddy I’ll pay him back for this.  Just please get me out of here.” 

“That doesn’t matter.  You’re still not getting out, not until you two settle whatever is going on between you two.” She waved her finger at me and then over to Kayce who had gotten up from the stone floor. 

Kayce came to stand slightly behind me, holding his cowboy hat in his hand figuring out what I hadn’t.  “You locked us up in here.” 

“Let us out right now.” I growled in the guards direction. 

He shook his head no where. He and my sister simply left the cell hallway.  “I’ll let you out when she provides me the bail money.” My mouth fell opened and I remained standing there almost frozen over what my sister had just done to us.  

[mrsackermannx]

Thank you for your reply. You are really kind ily 🥹🥹

Pcos is really hard to deal with. It has fucked me up so bad. From facial hair to hyperpigmented private parts, it has given me everything. I'm so fucking insecure. It's hard not to be😭 I wanna look pretty. My doc gave me heavy meds I was nauseous the whole time I took the tablet. It was hell. Besides i had severse foodpipe ulcers. Now I'm off tablet. I'm just so much so worried about my hair only. I also had to have dandruff!!! Just my life ugh. I had hair down upto my knees. I had to cut it short as it got tangled all the time and it made extra hairloss. Im jsut 18. Haven't even joined university yet. Other girls are pretty ugh. Sorry I jsut ranted. I'm tempted to just shave my head at times. I cry every night lmao.

It is kinda good to know that I'm not alone (although I hope none of us have to grow through this) and thanks for the "don't"s 🫶🫶

Do you have any scalp washing tips btw?

If I touch my head, there's no hair..it's just touching my scalp directly lol bald me

BEAUTIFUL GIRL OF COURSE! I never want my pcos girlies to feel silenced???😚😚 first of all….Oh the facial hair has been kicking my ass since i was 15 and im 21 girl 😭😭 but i will say, at 19-20 it peaked for me, i hit rock bottom and i do think that the external stress of uni pushed it but i also thing it’s a genuine like canon event for us pcos girlies, i truly believe that until ur pcos really gets you down, you can’t rise up from it. i was the biggest id ever been, lost all my hair, facial hair was insane!!

i mean this in the best way, because I’ve been there girl, i still am there, i get laser on my face and neck, i wash my hair and like it gives me anxiety just washing my hair and seeing the loss, feeling the loss of density, like you i had hair down my back my whole life and i cut it over a year ago and now it has grown back thicker at least bc mine was all straggly at the worst point😭 i KNOW your pain.

BUT everybody always told me that the older i get it will level out and trust me it does!! and it did. im 21 and things have settled, we can only go through this process. i promise you, it gets better. my hair is still thinner but it shines and i put love into it!! i oil my scalp every time i wash it, I’ve been doing it for 8 months religiously.

and girl you are pretty!! i used to read the r/pcos thread a lot bc it made me feel less alone and like, i saw a post once venting about how hard it is having so much maintenance, to wake up and have to shave your face, to be conscious, to have to cover hair loss. that constant weight of having to get up and do all these steps that you feel other women don’t. i know the frustration, i have bumps and marks and body hair that makes me sob if I don’t shave it and then I look down in the shower and it hits me. but it’s also okay to pay for the things like laser or waxing, or learning how to wax etc, we have to manage in any way, we are allowed to prioritise and do things that make us feel beautiful bc we deserve it. we have to adapt rather than hoping it might just disappear, and we have to accept it🥺🩷

but diet is huge!! at least try and have a protein heavy breakfast!! 30g of protein is such an important aim, I promise that makes such a difference. definitely try not to have a lot of sugar in the morning. i only drink water or spearmint tea. matcha tea can be good bc it’s better then coffee, but I never drink caffeine because it’s so bad for us pcos girls especially on an empty stomach!! try and eat good fats!! and also integrating exercise!! and also MANAGE STRESS BABE I MEAN IT

but you are still beautiful, effortlessly and with your ways of coping. there is nothing wrong with us!! don’t be sorry for ranting at all, i also wanted to shave my head at the height of my weight loss i had a huge bald spot and it’s still kinda there 😭 i know this shit is REAL

but definitely check in with a doctor if you can get any advice/meds that could help, maybe a birth control pill could help you but again I don’t recommend that due to my own experiences bc it gave me severe acne, migraines and other things but tbf my hair was lucious😜, pcos is a lot of trial and error and seeing what might work for you.

as far as tips go!! look into Indian/arab/ayuverdic routines on TikTok/youtube!!! look up ways to massage your scalp!!!

here are my fave creators !!

@golabbeauty on tiktok for hair loss, hair oiling, diet, she has pcos herself!

@zoeantonia_ tiktok + instagram!! pcos positivity for facial hair, bloating, skin!! she also gives great diet and workout advice and she’s amazing!!

@mila.magnani on tiktok! pcos creator amazing!!!!!!

but i want you to know that you don’t have to start everything now, that you can eat something one creator says not to!! you will find your rhythm with this! steal, twist, tailor everything you hear and see creators doing !! whether it’s making your own mixture of oils for oiling or making some kind of nightly mock tail for your hormones you’ve found!! either way i believe in you and im always here <3333 educate yourself but don’t overwhelm yourself! time is your biggest ally, my heart goes out to you angel <3

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Through the looking glass

Ya girl has not written in a long….. LONG time and of course I’d pick this to get me started again. Love love love that it’s day 15, which means there’s two! 1 and 15 are coming out together and they just so happen to be the same character what a coincidence. Anyway here ya go.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Word count: …. I wrote this in my notes app I have no idea it’s short I know that much

⭐️Day 1: Voyeurism⭐️

Eddie doesn’t know how he ended up here. Okay he does know how he ended up here he just doesn’t know how he ended up in this situation. You and Eddie had been secretly seeing each other for a couple months, every time he came over he’d climb up the tree outside your window and sneak in as quietly as possible.

Tonight he’d decided to surprise you a little earlier than you’d both planned, he was able to clean up after his set faster than he’d thought and after parking his van down the street he’d practically jogged over to your house and up the tree. What he didn’t expect when he got closer to your window was the soft little moan he heard. He froze in place, his eyes wide as he listened closer. You did it again and he practically scrambled to the edge of the branch. He peeked in through the window and saw you laid out on your bed pretty as a picture. Your hand between your soft supple thighs. Thighs that he’d dreamt about wrapped around his head, your soft skin rubbing against his ears. Your cami is pulled down as you tease your nipples and massage your breasts, your fluffy pink blanket hanging off the bed so your body is fully exposed to the cool air of the night.

Eddie roughly palms himself through his jeans trying to control it as he watches you. Your back arches off the bed a bit as you sink your fingers in and out, chasing your high. Eddie raises his hand to knock on your window when he hears angels singing, or rather just you moaning out his name, begging him to go faster. He slowly drops his hand again and starts to undo his pants, he looks around quickly making sure no one really can see him right now and pulls out his cock, the tip already glistening with precum. He spits in his hand and starts stroking himself in time with your fingers, listening to your sweet gasps and moans as you both get closer. He watches as your body shakes and your hips lift off the bed, you slap your hand over your mouth to cut off the moans and mewling before you wake up your parents. Eddie finishes at the same time, fucking into his hand knowing it doesn’t feel half as good as you do. He backs up a little bit and leans against the trunk, panting as he wipes his hand with a leaf. He stuffs himself back in his pants and gets up, a bit shakey as he finally opens your window and climbs in.

You look over to him, blissed out and sleepy.

“Oh hey Eddie, you’re a bit early” you smile at him sweetly as you pull your blanket up higher on your neck. You’d grabbed it as soon as you finished, wrapping yourself up in it.

“Earlier than you think baby girl” He says as he crawls up the bed, slowly easing your legs back open.

[blushled]

Love | Dallas Winston

MASTERLIST

other Tumblr: sunkissedspidey

taglist is open!

requests are open!

pairing: Dallas Winston x female!reader

summary: Your relationship with Dally was always weird, you weren’t dating and you definitely weren't just friends. But after he almost loses you, he realizes just how much he needs you.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), language, angst, fluff, etc.

word count: 3.7k+

a/n: Please forgive me for how gross and choppy this is! This is the first thing I’ve written in months!! Sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!

Your relationship with Dally had always been a little weird. Not by much, but definitely compared to the other guys.

You were the only chick in the group, and everyone in it had a phase at some point where they were completely enamored with you, all expect for Darry, mostly because he saw you as a little sister. But it was always special with Dally.

You had met Dally, and the rest of the guys, when you were 15, right after he had gotten back to Oklahoma from New York. You two were always close, and you were the only person he had ever opened up to, so it's no wonder that you two had lost your virginities to each other, and still have casual sex to this day. The both of you had an unspoken agreement to not tell anyone, but Soda had walked in on the two of you one time, so now it was only you three that knew the secret.

Anyways, regardless of the hours upon hours of sex that was shared between you at least once a day, your relationship was closer than anyone else in the group, even stronger than yours and Soda's, despite the fact that the two of you had been best friends since second grade.

You never really cared about the fact that Dally was sleeping with other people. I mean, it's not like you weren't doing the same thing. You'd had sex with Dally, then Soda one night after you had both gotten absolutely hammered beyond belief, and even Peter Torlini from school a few times. But it always was better with Dally. Not just because he was amazing in bed, but because you were positive that you were head over heels in love with him. And, goddamn, if he didn't feel the same way, he was amazing at faking it. Like, you don't always have that sort of connection with someone when you have sex. Your bodies became one, and you knew exactly what the other needed at that exact moment. Who knows... maybe he was just good in bed and knew what you needed because you had been having sex for so long, or maybe... just maybe; he felt the same way for you that you did for him.

***

"Fuck, Dally! Oh, my god!" You moaned out, his cock so deep inside of you that it had your head spinning.

"Goddamn," He breathed out, his face close to yours, same with the rest of his body, as he pumped into you at a fast, steady pace, a slight sheen of sweat covering both of your trembling, naked bodies. "You're so fucking good and tight for me. 'M not gonna last much longer, Y/N." He groaned out, his breathing heavy, along with yours, as he thrusted even deeper. He wrapped his arms underneath your head, tugging on your hair as you scratched down his back.

"God, please cum for me, Dallas." You moaned, his pace quickening even more so, leaving you screaming as your eyes squeezed shut tightly, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clenching so tightly around his cock that he couldn't help but cum, quickly pulling out and helplessly spilling his seed all over your stomach as he let out load, drawn out moans, before his muscles gave out and he collapsed back on top of you.

Your hands ran into his hair as he gave you another hot, passionate kiss before rolling over next to you on your bed, reaching over onto the night stand to grab two smokes and a lighter, passing one to you before lighting both of them up, as you both smoked, and exhaled, simultaneously, your brains started to feel foggy with euphoria as the nicotine began to enter your bloodstreams at the same time.

***

A few weeks later, you and the rest of the guys were sitting around, just talking about nothing in particular, only until Two-Bit brought up a fun topic.

"I got it!" He said, a large smirk on his face. "Best lay... Aaand... Steve, go!" Pointing at the brunette with both hands shaped as guns.

"Uhm... Probably Gracie. Big tits." He laughed out, a smoke in between his teeth.

Everyone erupted with laughter, Ponyboy and Johnny rolling their eyes and turning their attention to the cartoons on the small television.

"Y/N! Your turn!" Two-Bit said, laughing as he took a sip of his third beer.

"Not telling." You laughed as you sat on the countertop. You rolled your eyes heavily and let out an annoyed sigh as everyone booed at you. "Ugh, fine," You said, closing your eyes. "Uhm, I'm not saying the name, but he was tall with brown eyes, massive dick, and goddamn, he knew how to use it well, dark hair, and also the best kisser I've ever met before."

    Dally automatically knew that you were talking about it, a smirk spreading across his face as you enthused about just how good the "mystery man" was in bed.

*** You and Dally sat in your old, run down car, eating Dairy Queen and talking about nothing in particular.

"You wanna know something funny?" He asked before licking the melting ice cream off of his waffle cone.

"Always." You smirked, turning the music playing on the radio down a bit so you could hear him more clearly.

"You're the best I've ever had, too." He said, smirking as your cheeks lit up a bright pink shade at his words.

"And why's that, Mister Winston?" You laughed, your eyes meeting his again as he leaned in closer to you, using his free hand to circle around your clit over your underwear, your skirt covering Dally's hand from the wrist down, your eyes slowly rolling back as you moaned quietly into his mouth.

"That's just one of the reasons. You're so goddamn sensitive and I fucking love it." He laughed when you whined after his touched left you, a small huff of anger leaving your lips at the loss of contact.

After a few seconds, you grabbed his ice cream and shoved it in an empty cup, his eyes meeting your with confusion before you moved over the center console to straddle him, your lips immediately going to his as you grinder your hips together, small groans leaving both of your mouths. You tugged at his leather belt, unbuttoning his jeans after, sliding his boxers down, your mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock.

    He reached around your waist and lifted your tight shirt off of you quickly, his soft lips moving to kiss all over your breasts and he left the occasional hickey, his cool, slender fingers i clipping your bra, before he started kissing up and down your neck until you were begging for more.

    "Dally, please." You whimpered, your body trembling from want.

    He moved your underwear over to the side, right before his cock slammed into you as he pulled your hips flush against his, both of you letting out moans because of how fucking amazing it felt.

"Fuck, Dally! Shit, you feel so fucking good!" You screamed out, glad that it was night and that no one was around the two of you.

"Goddamn, you're so fucking tight-" He said before a groan cut him off, his hands gripping your waist even tighter, bruises sure to be left there (not that you were complaining in the slightest).

    One of his hands moved down to your clit, rubbing it in harsh, fast circles as his eyes rolled back, your head dipping down to suck dark purple bruises onto the soft, pale skin of his neck, his hips thrusting up to meet yours in sync, his cock hitting inside of you deeper and deeper with each thrust, the other of you chasing yourself highs as best as you could.

    Your eyes clenched shut tightly as you bit down on muscles of his shoulder, your orgasm crashing over you so strongly that you could barley breathe. Dally's arms wrapped around you, scratching up and down your back and you tugged harshly at his hair, knowing that he was coming close.

    "Cum for me." You whispered into his ear, biting down slightly on his earlobe, and then that was it. He came with a cry of your name and a load groan, his cum coating your walls as you clenched around him tighter, his teeth sinking into your breasts as he continued to thrust up into you until his muscles gave out. Your collective breathing was heavy as you both came down from your highs, his hair sweaty as you ran your fingers through it, the smell of sex and cigarettes lingering in the small, cramped car.

    "Goddamn," He said, laughing as you sat back, moving your hair out of your eyes. "That was fucking amazing."

    "Isn't it always?" You smiled cockily, grinding your hips once more, causing another load moan to come from Dally's throat, partially because it felt amazing and partially because he was so fucking sensitive.

    "What'd I turn you into?" He smirked, biting down on the skin of your neck softly, his perfect teeth skimming your jaw as he made eye contact with you again.

    "A sex addict." You said simply, a smile breaking across your face as Dally started laughing at your blatant tone, his head tipping up to kiss you softly and slowly.

    The two of you had made an agreement not to do anything with anyone else after a while, figuring that it would save the both of you from getting jealous because, even though you weren't official, the both of you were super mad every time you walked in on the other with a different person.

*** "Oh my god, fuck off!" You yelled, laughing as Soda had beaten you in poker for the fifth time that night, the rest of the guys whooping and cheering as you flipped them all of, taking your shirt off, a black bra the only thing covering your chest. Strip poker was a weird game to play with a big group of your closest friends, but it had been a favorite of everyone's for years. Dally stood in the corner, a cigarette in between his teeth as he stared you down, his eyes dark with oust and squinted with anger.

"Alright," You said, standing up and putting your shirt back on, boos coming from the guys. "I think that's enough for me tonight."

You made your way to the bathroom of the Curtis' house, putting your hair up in a ponytail before you washed the dark eyeliner surrounding your eyes off, using a rag to dry your face before changing into an extra t-shirt and pajama shorts that you always kept there, since everyone usually spent the night there.

You walked out into the dark hallway, making your way to the living room before Dally pushed you up against one of the walls, his lips meeting yours harshly as one of his hands made its way into your loose shorts, his long, slender figures toying with your clit as you tried your best to control the volume of your moans.

"Never, fucking never, pull that shit again. You got that? You know how fucking hot you are, and you know how those dudes think about you." He said, his voice low and commanding, but a tone of sweetness underlying in it.

You knew that he wasn't mad, he was just worried, even though there's no way in hell that he would ever admit that to anyone. He was your best friend, and you were his.

*** "Oh, come on, Dally. It's not even that bad. It's just a movie." You whined, gripping onto his denim jacket.

"It's a stupid movie." He laughed as your head sunk even lower, your lower lip stick out as you widened your eyes, your face jokingly pleading.

    "Dallyyy, pleaseee?" You dragged out, kissing his neck softly.

    "Fine. But if I hate it, it's on you." He laughed as you squealed, leaning over and kissing his cheek. And after a second you both looked at each other and then moved away, realizing that you were acting more like a couple than like fuck buddies.

    "I'm- uh- I'm gonna go home. Gotta get ready, ya know?" You said, standing up from the couch at Dally and Buck's place, grabbing your purse and jacket, and waving goodbye to the brunette that had your heart.

***

    As you made you way back over to Dally's, you checked how you looked in the reflection of a storefront window. Your tight white t-shirt clung to your body perfectly, your black ripped jeans hugged your frame, and you had on your favorite jacket. A thick, worn, black leather one that all of the guys had gotten you for your birthday after they had pooled their money together, a switchblade, a pack of smokes, and a lighter in one of the pockets. Your black eyeshadow and eyeliner was done perfectly, and was an amazing contrast to your bright red lipstick.

    "Dally!" You smiled, wrapping him in a small, short hug when we opened his door, throwing a shirt on and leading you down the street towards the drive in.

***

    "I'm gonna go get some popcorn." You said to Dally, smiling as you stood up from one of the cheap, grey folding chairs.

    "Be careful." He said, handing you some money before turning his attention to the movie that he claimed was stupid.

    "Medium popcorn and a large Coke with two straws, please." You said to the worker at the concessions stand, handing him the money in exchange for your food and drink.

    You walked out of the concessions stand, making your way back until some shuffling on the side of the building caught your attention. You turned your head, and the second you did, you instantly regretted it. You saw Dally making out with Polly Winchester, her hands running through his hair as he pinned her against a wall. His eyes met with your for a second and he instantly pulled away, his lips smeared with her red lipstick and his breathing hard.

    "Oh shit." He said quietly, walking over to you, trying to take your hands in his, put you instantly pulled away.

    "You fucking asshole." You said calmly, turning away towards the exit before he grabbed your arm, and then you snapped. "Don't fucking touch me!" You screamed, the people sitting near you turning to look at the two of you.

    "Y/N, I'm sorry." He said, trying his best to reach out for you agin until you took the top off of your drink and threw it in his face.

    "Fuck. You." You said clearly, finally being able to turn and walk away, tears filling your eyes as you walked back to your house.

***

    A few days later, practically in the middle of the night, you were sitting on your bed, a cigarette in one of your hands as you used the other to flip through your favorite book, music softly playing on your record player in the background as you tried your best to ignore the ache in your heart at the fact that Dally was practically fucking a chick against a wall right in front of you.

    A knock on your front door shook you out of your daze, ashing your cigarette before making your way down the hall to your front door. The second you opened it, your heart sank, your stomach dropping as you saw Dallas standing there, a pleading look on his face.

    "C-can I come in?" He asked quietly, his hands stuffed into his pocket.

    You didn't say anything, you just opened your door more and stepped to the side, allowing him to walk into your small house.

    "What do you want? Another pack of smokes? I have some on the counter and a Coke in the fridge and then you can go back to the drive in so that you don't have to pay." You said blankly, sitting down on your couch as flipping through a book that was on your coffee table.

    "No, I don't need any of that. I just wanna talk." He said, standing next to the couch awkwardly.

    "About what? About how you basically fucked Polly during a movie that we were supposed to be watching together? About how you ditched me to go stick your dick in some whore on the side of a goddamn building?!" You said, not being able to control your volume as you stood up looking at him, absolutely fuming.

    "Yeah, pretty much." He answered, not knowing what else to say.

    "You promised me, Dally. You fucking promised." You said, your eyes boring into his.

    "I know, but listen-" He tried to say before you cut him off.

    "No, Dally. You listen to me. You are such a lying fucking asshole! I can't believe I ever thought that we could be something other than friends with benefits." You said, your eyes becoming puffy. "Fuck you, Dallas Winston. I never want to see you again." You said calmly through your teeth, silently seething. You turned towards the hallway to go into your room, before Dally grabbed your arm, your eyes meeting his again, both of your eyes red as silent tear streamed down your faces simultaneously.

    "Please, Y/N." He said, his voice not much louder than a whisper. "Please don't leave me."

    "You've never listened to me when I've asked you not to leave... Why should I listen to you?" You asked quietly.

    "Because I love you, Y/N. More than I've ever loved anything in my entire life. More than smokes and parties and beer. More than sleep and sex and rumbles. So please, Y/N... Please don't leave. And I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

    "I love you too, Dally. So much more than you'll ever be able to know."

    At this point, his hands were tangled in yours, your faces close together as you both finally admitted your true feeling for one another after all of this time.

    "You do?" He asked, shock evident in his voice. "You love me?"

    "Of course I love you, Dally. I've loved you ever since we were kids." You whispered, your lips only inches apart.

    "Can I kiss you?" He asks softly, his hands going slowly and tenderly up to your neck.

    "Please."

    And with that, you lips met in the most perfect kiss you could ever think of, like your lips were pieces of a puzzle and were made to fit perfectly together. After a few minutes it grew more passionate, more lust filled.

    His hands went down to the back of your thighs, gripping them tightly as you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist. The two of you continued kissing as he walked the both of you to your room. He placed you softly on your bed, kissing down your body as he lifted an oversized white t-shirt, that just so happened to be his, over your head. He kissed all over your chest and your neck, only stopping for a few seconds to shed off his leather jacket and black shirt, before immediately going back to your lips to kiss you as you moaned into each others mouths while your hips grinned against each other's.

    "Dally, please." You moaned, your hands smoothing over his back.

    "Please what?" He asked, looking at your with swollen red lips, a beautiful contrast to his pale skin.

    "Make love to me." You whispered, your lips close to each others until he closed the distance between your mouths.

    He kissed down your neck, chest, and stomach again as he pulled your shorts off of you, moving to kiss your inner thighs as you whined from the feeling that you missed.

    He stood up again to unbuckle his belt, taking his pants off not shortly after. You pulled him back on top of you, reveling in the feeling of his bare skin against yours. He took his length in is hands, lining it up with your entrance before stopping for a few seconds to stare deeply into his big brown eyes.

    "I love you." He whispered.

    "I love you too." You replied before you met your lips with his again.

    The second he thrusted slowly inside of you, you both let out moans at the amazing feeling. he started with a slow, tender pace as you breathed heavily into each others mouths, your eyes still staring into the others.

    "Oh my god." You moaned out, eyes finally shutting tightly as he continued to pump into you, his pace quickening as his groans started to grow louder and loader, along with your moans.

    "Fuck, I love you so-" He said, getting cut off as he groaned loudly. "I love you so much."

    "I love you too, Dally- Fuck!" You screamed, the feeling of him being inside of you so goddamn intense that you could barely speak coherently.

    And then it made sense. Every feeling that you had ever had for him made so much sense. Every time that he would look at you and smile at the completely ordinary thing you were doing, every time that he told you to call him when you got home, every time that his figures brushed against yours while watching a movie made sense. He had loved you even longer that you had loved him. From the second your eyes met his when you met, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you. He had never realized how much he needed to tell you until he almost lost you, until he realized how much he needs you.

    "Dally, I'm not gonna last much longer." You moaned, lips moving to kiss the sides of his clan shaven face and his smooth forehead.

    "N-neither am I. Fuck, please cum for me, Y/N. Please. God, I love you." He moaned before his head dipped down to meet your lips with his.

    And with a few more thrusts, you were completely spiraling underneath him, your whole body trembling as you came at this same time, his final few thrusts harder and deeper than before until he finally collapsed on top of you, his lips going to kiss your red cheeks as you both breathed heavily.

    "I love you so much. Please be mine, Y/N. Please." He said, his lips skimming yours.

    "I love you more, Dally. And I'll be yours, forever and ever and ever." And with that, you both fell asleep, all sweaty and gross. But you were sweaty and gross and happier than you had ever been before.

[sissyjamieray]

My journey into feminization how did it begin? It is difficult to pin point a specific age, but I would guess I was about 11 years old. Yes, confused by sexual urges and excitement when looking at pictures of pretty girls in magazine ads wearing only panties and bras. Mmm, then 'borrowing' intimate female garments and wearing them. Feelng the overwhelming rush of pleasure and my first orgasm while wearing female clothing. Through the years I've tried to suppress this urges to dress as a woman. Being married was so frustrating as my wife left her intimate garments all over the house. It was like being in a candy store: bras, panties, lingerie all within reach. Unable to resist I would carefully try on bra or nightie when she was out shopping. At one point she mentioned something about one nightie being worn out in the "wrong" places. But she never questioned me. After all why would her man be turned on by wearing panties? Looking back she was very smart, she knew better than to confront me head on, lol. She knew I would not admit it or make up some bullshit story. She was very subtle, one night after making love she asked me if I had any sexual fantasies, my response was no love, none that I can think of. Another time she make the following comment, " I wish I had something to poke you with". Wow, she was so close. I was a bit stunted, didn't have a good response, lol. Several months later during our forplay love making she starts licking my nipples, omg, wtf!! Do you like it she says, with her hand on my growing manhood there was no escape, no denial. You like it don't you? I said yes, grasping for air and moaning as she began to rub the tip of my cock with her finger while continuing to lick and suck on my nipples. Then she slid her hand below my balls and started stroking and messaging the area just above my ass hole. After five minutes or this action she get up, pulls off her soaked panties then leans towards me with panties in hand and whispers in my ear, ' guess what I found in your bag Jim?' I found at least 10 pairs of my panties Jim, wtf all stained with your cum! "So you like to jerk off and cum in my panties, really?" What could I say but yes. I tried to explain why but she was upset? She then took her wet panties wrapped them around my almost limp manhood and said show me how you like you jerk off im my panties! I was so embarrassed, but I was wrong to have taken her things, this was my punishment, Yes? I reached down and started stroking my cock but it was very limp by now, I could not get hard. She saw my problem and whispers in my ear, "what's the problem, sissy panty boy, can't jerk off in front of your hot sexy wife? never touch my things again!, if you do, you will never fuck or cum inside me again. Do you understand me? Yes, hon I understand, good. Now where are my panties, Uh where you put them dear, yes they are yours now. Uh, keep them clean and if you wear these out (giggle) we will go out together and buy you more. Yes, I'll let the pretty sales lady know my size and yours (giggle). One more thing, when we make love, make sure you are wearing a clean pair of lacy pink panties. You are my panty boy husband now (giggle). I guess you better learn to get excited and hard while wearing female panties or you will never fuck me again (giggle): panty boy. Next day I after work I set out the task of hand washing 'my' panties in hope of getting lucky later that evening. Ok, hot water and some laundry soap and a 15 minutes soak, rinse and then toss into the dryer should to the trick right? Right before we went to bed I quickly grabbed my panties and climbed into bed. My wife had been observing my laundry duties activities that evening and I assumed we were cool. My hopes of an evening of

having sex where dashed when she turned the lights on stating: it's panty check time, stand up and let examine your feeble attempts to clean these! Ok, I can still see your nasty stains, what temperature did you wash these in? Hot I relied, she laughed, you idiot you should have used cold, as now you've 'set' the stain and ruined a pretty pair of panties. Oh well I guess we will have to go panty shopping tomorrow. Maybe Victoria's Secret? I understand Nancy, your friend Mike's wife just started working there (giggle), maybe she can let us use her discount? She then put her hand on my softening member and said, 'well give it some thought, panty boy, good night. WTF, now she is straight up trying to sexually blackmail me and expose me really? I got out of bed headed for the bathroom sobbing, how could my sweet wife be so cruel. Fifteen minutes or so she knocks on the door, " Jimmy are you ok"? No I'm, how could I be ok when you want to humiliate me and expose my fetish to my friends? Oh you admit it now that you are little perverted panty stealing panty boy? Her words cut me through me like a knife, but she was right. Stand Jim, look at yourself in the mirror wearing my soiled panties, tell me baby who and what did I fall in love with? Then she placed her had on my limp cock and said, I love you but tell me about all your fetishes now or we are done: confess! I'm not going to play a guessing game with you understand! Sobbing, I began to spill my guys about how was molested by an older boy at 11, my Aunt confessed to dressing me as a girl when I was very young,

dressing my mothers lingerie. Yes, I've have fantasies about being fucked my a man while being dressed as a woman. With years in my eyes I looked at my wife, what she was crying too? Why are you crying I asked? I'm so sorry that so many people have hurt you babe and that you are so fucked up now. Maybe we can both get into therapy, you know get some professional help? But for this moment, let's promise to be more open and honest with our sexual feelings and desires ok? Babe I'm sorry I got do angry with you but you did sneak my panties? I had no idea that my panties turned you on so much to the point that you would willing wear them? She started rubbing my pantied cock as she spoke, you know Jim, have a little fantasy of my own. What she whispered in my ear next blew me away. Jim, sometimes I think about being with a woman, coddling and fondling each others breasts? Jim, I, I think I might be Bi? I sorry I've never shared this with you but you understand right ? At that moment, my cock began to swell, she got her answer. Now pulling my panties down she began licking the very backside tip of my cock, you know Jim, maybe I will be willing to support you, like helping you dress like a lady, apply make up and maybe if you wish be with a man as a woman. With these words I erupted a stream of thick sperm all over her beautiful face. Wow, that was fast hon, you agree with my suggestions? Awesome, now for your first lesson Jamie, lick up all the cum you sprayed over my face. Yes, play the part bitch you need to learn to love the taste of your cum. Yes, your female name is Jamie now, do you like it? That's right clean me up, good gurl. Now it's my turn to be pleasured, now be a good lesbian bitch and eat my sweet pussy, XOXO.

Chapter 2 The List

The next morning Carol, my wife was up early and out of the house without waking me. No breakfast or coffee, man that woman be slipp'in, I thought. Well, what looks good in the frig? Oh man, lookie here, a heart shaped note from wifey. [Hi Jim I went shopping with Margie this morning, not sure when I'll be back but, please pickup the following items at the corner drug store:

tampons, pantyhose, nail polish (pink), eye shadow base & palate, concealer, face primer, eyeliner (water proof), mascara, blush, bronzer, highlighter, lip gloss, cosmetic brush set, foundation, setting spray and pamprin. Jim, if you need help just ask the salesgirl in

cosmetics, you know the one you always flirt with, you know Desiree, giggle. Oh and make sure you are wearing the pink lace panties that I let in your drawer. They are yours now, Jamie. Love Carol XOXO, P.S., I've invited some friends over for dinner so please be home by 4 pm.] Groan, I HATE shopping, especially for girl stuff! Ok, so off to drug store I went, stright to the cosmetics counter, list in hand. There she was, Desiree behind the counter, may I help you, she asked? Desiree was the gorgeous offspring of Spanish and Irish parents, about 5' 9" light green eyes and light brown to blonde hair. Her makeup was always impeccable, skirts and blouse always tight and ample cleavage on display. Carol was right that I did flirt with Desiree in the past, but Carol was always with me. It was different now, I was alone and what she possibly thinking? I mean, Carol had always shopped for her own cosmetics and fem items? Looking into her eyes my mind went blank, dry mouth, etc. I handed her the list and mumbled, my wife needs this stuff and I have no idea. Sure, no problem, I can get these for. Carol is your wife right? Yeah, she was in earlier, something about a need for a change and wanted you and I to help her with a make-over surprise. I can help you with every thing on the list except the tampons, their in aisle 12. Oh, and I'll need your help with selecting the foundation shade to ensure a good color match. Ok, what ever I said, I'll be back with the wifey's tampons in a couple minutes. As I walked away, Desiree's last words, "color matching" stuck in my head... Carol's skin tone was much lighter than mine? Mmm, aisle 12, ok here we go, no idea really what to buy my wife, so many confusing choices. I must have been searching for the correct tampons for at least 15 minutes when Desiree found me. Hi, need some help? Absolutely? I have no idea what she needs. Laughing at my ignorance of feminine hygiene products, explained that Carol would at minimum need pads and most likely will need a tampon for her 'heavy' period flows. My suggestion is get her both. Is so sweet and thoughtful of you to do pick these up for you wife, I'm sure she appreciates it. Now let's go go back to the cosmetic department and I ring up your items? Sounds like a plan, I said. Ok, let's try this new foundation shade shall we? Desiree reached for my hand, this was a new level: physical contact. I could feel my heart beating faster, well if well if you have to I said? Desiree, her hand still gently touchind my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, Jim, it is necessary to be sure we get an accurate match and you do want to please your Wife don't you? Yes, of course I want to make Carol happy. Well good, smiling as she applied the foundation to my hand Desiree said, you know Jim, it's not like anyone's going to make assumptions about your sexuality. I mean, why would a handsome stud like you want to wear make up? Ok, of course your are right, I told her. Oh, awesome Jim, this color is perfect. Carol will love it.

Great what is the final damage for all this, I asked? Sure, your total comes to $75.65. Ok, wow this stuff sure adds up fast! Ok here's $76, as Desiree handed back my change she dropped a dime. Oh, so sorry, no problem I said bending over to retrieve .10 cents and at that moment exposing my pink lace thong panties in full view of Desiree. So humiliating, I was speechless. Desiree with a big smile handed me my merchandise but me close and whispered, I love a man who likes to embrace his feminine side, Carol is so lucky.

Chapter 3 - No Refunds, No Returns

So I returned home with all the cosmetics Carol had on your list. She met me as I entered our apartment with big hug, then said that she had to leave again. No big deal, but asked me to read a letter she had written to me. Ok, problem, writing letters was something we did when we first started dating. Jim, l'll be back in about 2 hours, so please read my little ' love' note before I return. One more hug as she felt up my ass for the outline of the thong panties, still wearing them I see? Good, I so happy you did, it says you respect my wishes. I am going to make you so happy you did. Then she kissed me deeply and left without saying where she was going? Oh well, now where is this letter? I found Carol's letter on my pillow, she started, my Dearest husband, tonight I will make your fantasy of being a woman a reality. Don't deny it Jim. I found your hidden stash of female undergarments, shemale porn, etc. Really, why did you NOT trust me enough with your kinky desires? No matter, I know now and I still you move than you realize. Tonight I will give your fantasy, but know this our relationship will change. The changes will be (giggle) sort of a role reversal? To start: take a nice hot bubble bath, yes use mine girly stuff XOXO. Next, use my sugar rub all over your body to exfoliate your skin and then shave all your body hair, yes lov, your arms, legs, chest, balls and ass. Next raise in with cold water

and gently dry ourself. Next, hydrate your skin with some lotion be liberal with it. Now Jim, you don't have much time left so get started. Oh, once your done with this bathing routine, look in your drawer and closet. Yes I picked out some cute girly things for you to wear love XOXO. Make sure you are wearing each item when I return? If NOT, trust me You will sorely regret it!! But I know you will be a Good girl for your wife, your Mistress now won't you? And don't act like you don't know how to put on a bra, panty hose, corset, or breast forms. Please Sissy, remember I know what you've doing when your alone and I'm at work. You see I also found your pictures lol. Well, no more secrets BITCH! I demand you to be ready for me to apply your make up and wig when I return. No excuses! Yes dear, I will be fully shaved and dressed when return. Ok, good, I will be at 7 pm sharp! Out of fear and excitement I started drawing my bubble bath. While the tub was filling I looked into the closet and drawer to see what my wife had purchased. My sweet wife had filled my drawer will so many pretty panties and bras all different styles and colours. These were all mine, really? Wow, what was in my closet? Just a quick peek, so many cute skirts, dresses and tops, all mine? Ok, time was slipping away and the tub was nearly full now. As instructed, I soaked in the fraguent bubble bath for a half hour so relaxing then scrubbed every inch of my body possible with a sugar exfoliate scrub. I then covered my body with a girly shaved cream and shaved my legs, arms, chest, groin, balls and ass. I then showed in cold water to rinse off the remaining shave cream. As I dried my body off the scent purfume and softness of my now hairless body caused me to feel so girly/ feminine, excited and horny. I resisted my base urges to pleasure myself and pushed on to getting dressed as it was almost time for my wife to return. So many panties so many choices, will of I selected a cute pink lace thong panties with matching bra and garter belt. Slipping the panties on another temptation to pleasure myself. Not enough time, 6:30 pm, still had to put on the breast plate and corset. I secured the 38 D breasts to my chest using the medical grade adhesive. Looking the mirror was a bit of a let down, so much work and I still looked like a man, a man with big breasts and small waist. I was nearly in tears when I heard the front door open, Carol would be coming in bedroom any moment and I was pretty much half naked. I quickly grabbed a blouse, skirt and heels got them on and posing on the bed, just as door opened. Knock, knock... omg Jim, Carol told me to just let myself in, that my make over project would be sitting on the bed. It was Desire, Carol WTF!! I was humiliated once again, I began sobbing uncontrollably, why Carol, why? Desiree gave me several tissues to dry tears. I don't understand, why would do this? She came closer and hugged me. I never been this close to Desiree or so absolutely vulnerable before. She knew just like Carol that I was to be a sissy no denial. Jim, she said, Carol is giving you a gift, this is what you want really. Carol loves you didn't understand or how to help you experience being a girl. I can sweet heart. Yes, Carol may have, did violate your privacy by sharing your sissy feelings with me but I agreed to help you both. She then kissed me on the lips and said go wash away those trears hon and let's transform you into a beautiful woman. Before she applied my make up she asked me to remove my skirt and blouse, something about not getting any make on my clothes, ok made sence? Desiree was wonderful explaining the fairly complicated process of applying the various types make up, contouring, eye shadow, liner, etc. I almost forgot that I was half naked inches away from a gorgeous woman. The scent of her purfume and beautiful cleavage got the best of my unrestrained manhood. Desiree noticed my problem and said, I see you are getting turned on baby? You like it that I'm feminizing don't sweety? Oh of course you do

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / Part 18 Here! / Part 19 Here!/ Part 20 Here! His POV Part 1! Here /  His POV Part 2 Here!  / Part 21 Here! < This is Part 22!>

Donate to Move to Higher Ground HERE!

Commission Info For Love Letters Here!

A/N: This has some NSFW themes, so if you’re under 18 don’t interact. 

Also the Tag list is closed, I think this is about how many people can add for this. An alternative is to follow and turn on post notifications. 

Um.. I guess this will be going on hiatus for a few weeks. I’m just busy at work, and I’m kind of out of ideas, also low engagement in the last few parts has made me feel a little discouraged.

That being said- if you order a letter with a twilight character, I’ll probably end up giving a hint for some things that will happen in the series. So if you are on the fence about getting a letter- or you just really can’t stand to wait, there’s always that option haha. 

 Anyway hope you like it ~

* “(Y/N).... what are you doing?”

* Muffled noise escapes you as you dig yourself deeper , drowning in his scent

* “(Y/N)”

* Your name leaves in a whisper and a smile curls onto his mouth

* “I mean how can you even see the television from that angle” he mumbles

* You sigh, your breath fanning across the lilac shirt he wore, you’re head firmly nestled in his back

* You’re in his room, lying beside him on his bed, essentially spooning him. The movie flickers on in front of you, you’re only half way through the first Harry Potter movie right now

* Honestly you’ve wanted to snuggle into Edward’s back for a while now, ever since you did it right before you both kissed for the first time

* It just feels so warm and safe here

* “I can hear it just fine” you mumble back. You feel the muscles in his back ripple as he shifts, your arm slinging over his chest.

* His hand covers your own. His hands so big it almost entirely envelops your own. And you can’t help but imagine what that hand would feel like in other places

* Tangled in your hair, trailing up and down your sides, under your shirt, dipping beneath the waist band of your shorts-

* Nope nope nope

* Gotta keep it PG 13

* He wants to go slow after all. Or at least you think he does. But well, you thought he might want to be with Bella

* And that was wrong

* Ugh, you want to pull out your own hair. how easy would it be if he could just read your mind and let you know-

* No it doesn’t work like that

* You sigh

* You have to put the work in if you want to make this work

* You have to communicate

* You stir besides him, wiggling you hand out of his and tapping the hard muscle of his abs

* Ugh, of course he’s chiseled like a statue

* Wait you’re a vampire, you tap your own stomach. It feels like a hard slab

* Well damn

* “Hm?”

* “We need to talk”

* “About what?” He asks absentmindedly, eyes never straying from the television.

* He must really like Harry Potter.

* “About sex.”

* He shoots right up. The remote falling to the ground with a clatter

* “Ah sorry, let me get that” he mumbles, climbing out of the bed to pick up the remote and put the movie on pause

* He clears his throat, sitting on the edge of the bed, a whole 5 feet away from you

* “So what did you want to talk about, again?”

* He seems so awkward, maybe you were right, maybe he does want to go slow

* But then what was with that “I’m not waiting for marriage” crap?”

* “I want to be physically intimate with you” you say bluntly

* Why did you say it like that? Like you’re some kind of scientist or something?

* *internal cringe*

* Not that he seems to care

* Edward’s grinning

* “Are you seducing me right now?”

* You’re not sure why but that smile annoys you

* You scoff

* “I’m trying to find out where you’re at, sexually speaking”

* He looks at the ground for several long seconds before finally meeting your eyes

* “So I um-“

* Okay you’re finally getting somewhere

* “I guess I have this kink where I like being called-“

* “No Edward not that!”

* You’re a little annoyed,

* But also a little turned on

* You’ll have to put a pin in that,

* oh boy, Edward with a kink.

* It’s probably something super vanilla like a praise kink

* or something cheesy like a daddy kink

* Like what are you, sixteen-

* Well, he technically is but-

* You’re getting off track

* “Do you-“

* how do you say this?

* “Do you want to have sex with me?”

* And it would sound like your propositioning him if you hadn’t emphasized the ‘want’

* You know he’s on the asexuality spectrum, maybe he just doesn’t feel like that for you

* You know he loves you a lot

* And wether or not he wants to have sex won’t change the way you feel about him,

* But knowing will help you manage your expectations

* “Why...why would you think that I don’t?”

* He looks almost hurt as he says it

* “We’ve been dating for two months and you haven’t made a move”

* Not after he said that thing about ‘Not waiting for Marriage’™

* You feel his hand cover your own, he’s still a heathy distance away from you

* But even just the touch of his hand on yours sends a shiver down your spine

* “How could you ever think I don’t-“ he cuts himself off

* His free hand moves to cradle your face, brushing hair away in that way he’s always done

* You sigh leaning into his touch

* “You’re so beautiful...so lovely.. of course I want to be closer to you in whatever way I can” his words leave breathlessly, and you can see he wants you just as bad as you want him

* “Then why-“

* “You live in my house,” he stresses. “You’re surrounded by my family, who haven’t been very subtle with how pleased they would be for you to join the family. We are literally never away from each other”

* “Do you want me to move back to Denali?” You joke and he laughs, amber eyes warm as he looks into yours.

* “I just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable... or suffocated.” He squeezes your hand

* “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to, for me.. or anyone else.”

* So he’s been trying to be considerate of you

* And of the living situation

* Isn’t that just so like him?

* You feel a small smile stretch across your lips, your hand threading into his hair

* “I don’t ever feel uncomfortable, not around you.”

* And it’s true, you trust him completely.

* You know he’ll never hurt you, never

* You foreheads are pressed together, and it’s only a small shift to catch his lips in your own

* Your hand escapes from his and trails to his face, your hands tipping his head back to get a better angle

* He feels so good like this

* He would feel so good underneath you, begging you to go just a little further

* “Now I’m propositioning you” you feel a small breathless chuckle escape him

* “There’s ... another reason I haven’t brought it up” he mumbles

* You hold your breath- he doesn’t have that bubbling desire does he?

* You were right, he-

* “If we did it in the house everyone would know”

* Huh?

* Noticing your confused expression he clarifies

* “Everyone would hear it happen, and everyone would know”

* Oh

* So all this times you’ve kissed-

* And that time in the car -

* Everyone knew?

* You groan covering your face in your hands, how will you ever be able to face Carlisle again?

* “Emmett would have bought us a cookie cake-“

* You raise an eyebrow and he falters

* “He would have bought me a cookie cake...it would say ‘bye bye virginity’ in pink icing” he whispers

* And you laugh

* “That’s so wasteful”

* No doubt Edward would be too embarrassed to let their humans friends eat it - which you don’t blame him for

* “Alright I’ll try to keep my dirty fantasies to a minimum” you laugh when he tugs you into his lap

* “Oh what kind of fantasies?” There’s that teasing boyish grin again

* “Please enlighten me”

* Well, it’s only right to tease him a little after all those hours you’ve spent mulling over what ‘I’m not waiting for marriage’ could mean

* “Well they all start off with a kiss, a good kiss, the kind that makes you feel like you’re just going to melt-“

* You rest your head against his shoulder, whispering into his ear

* “And then when it’s over, one of your hands is under my shirt,”

* you gently trace up his back and he shivers

* “and both of mine are under yours”

* “And then?” His voice is low, but he doesn’t dare to look at you

* You really shouldn’t tease him this much...

* but it’s so fun

* “We kiss again, my hands tracing over every inch of you, and when we stop I unbutton your shirt, trailing kisses down your neck”

* You trail a cold finger down the side of his neck

* He lets out a low sound, akin to a whine

* “And then I’ll suck here” your finger presses lightly into the hollow of his neck before repeating the process on his collarbone “and here”

* “You look so pretty with your neck marked up with hickeys, like poppy’s blooming in snow”

* You can tell he likes it by the shiver and whine

* So he likes that sensual shit huh

* You wonder what else he likes

* “And you look so pretty Edward, breathless, with that hungry needy look in your eyes just for me”

* Your hand trails down to his chest, and he trembles as your hand moves across his stomach. Resting on his lower abdomen

* His breath hitches, teeth digging into hi plush pink lip. He’s so needy, your finger trails in absentminded circles, and you swear he whimpers

* Aw so cute

* “And that’s about it” you say bluntly patting his stomach twice before moving to get off of him

* His eyes shoot open, a frown arching onto his mouth

* You hold back a laugh

* before you can fully get off of his lap he tugs you back to him

* “I see what you’re doing” he tried to pretend to be stern but you a smile twitching at the end of his lips

* “I don’t know what you mean. That’s just where the fantasy ends” you say as innocently as possible which only makes him grin

* “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been teasing you too much”

* “Hmm have you been?” You mock confusion and he laughs again, kissing the spot where your neck and shoulder meet

* “I’m sorry I got your hopes up”

* You scoff

* “My hopes weren’t up-“ Edward tilts your head towards him and you avert your eyes

* Okay they were a little high

* He pulls you into another kiss, soft and gentle

* “I promise I’ll make all your fantasies come true soon.”

* He already has, how many dreams that you never thought you would be able to have has he made come true?

* God, you adore this boy

* “But until then you’re going to have to leave”

* Scratch that

* “W-what?!”

* What did you do something to turn him off in the last .05 seconds?

* “It’s nothing personal-“

* You’re taking this very personally

* “I just need some time alone, and maybe a cold shower”

* Oh

* O H

* “R-right, well I’ll leave you to that” you mumble, clearing your throat as you move away from him, only briefly stopping on your way out

* “I’m going to take a few of these okay?” You say grabbing the other two Harry Potter movies

* You don’t wait for him to respond, leaving the room and heading to your own

* You run into Emmett who sends you a mischievous grin

* “Hey (Y/N), what were you-“

* “Nothing you would need to a buy a cookie cake for” you say, sliding into your room

* You look down at the DVD’s

* Why did you take these? You don’t even have a TV in your room

* Meanwhile Emmett’s still in the hallway

* “How did they know I was going to get him a cookie cake?”

* .

* ..

* ...

* You’re not sure where you are at first

* It’s foggy burst of green and brown

* And then you see him

* It’s Edward

* You breathe a sigh of relief moving towards him, as long as he’s here you’re okay

* “I’m sorry-“ you stop in your tracks

* there’s someone else there, clinging to his side

* “You were right- I do love her” He says and you’re confused

* The most faded and its Bella her wide brown eyes narrowed into a glare

* “Did you think you could just steal my future away from me?” She spats at you like her words are venom

* No- of course you never meant to take her place

* But you always hoped to- didn’t you?

* The intrusive voice causes a shiver to erupt down your spine

* You walk back, feet tangling into one another

* No that’s not right, Edward loves you- this isn’t right

* That’s when you bump into something hard- immovable

* You turn to see someone else entirely

* They’re wearing a black and red cloak

* Someone from the Volturi

* You gulp hard.

* So they’ve come for you have they

* The figure moves to remove the hood of their cloak, and you feel a gasp escape you.

* It’s you

* Only your face seems...sharper somehow, even more beautiful. But in an unnatural way, devoid of humanity

* Your eyes are as red as rubies

* You fall back, your foot getting caught in a tree root

* The Volturi-you sighs, crouching down so their impassive eyes can meet yours

* “You’ve really got to get over that whole timeline” their voice is different too, an air of disappointment ringing in every word. They sound bored

* You can’t manage to string together a single thought, let alone any words

* “Well don’t look so scared. I’m here to help you know” but their smile is cruel

* “Unless you can snap out of that lovesick dream of yours and finish what you started, this is the future that’s waiting for you”

* “That’s not true”

* Carlisle saved you, Eleazer took you in, Edward gave you a new future.

* You’re never going back to the Volturi

* But the you clad in the black and red robe’s smile only grows wider

* “It’s not true for now, but how many more years do you think you can handle until you get bored?”

* “Another 20? Let’s say 50 for good measure- then what?”

* You feel like a cold finger runs down your spine, your hair standing on end

* “I think you know exactly what” the cloaked you says, their eyes are serious now as they look at you

* “You need to finish what you started-“

* Finish what? What are they talking about? What did you start?

* Noticing your confusion they sigh

* “You need to stop focusing so much on what happened in the story, and start thinking about what happened after the story”

* After the story?

* Like after Edward and Bella had Their baby?

* “Now wake up”

* The words echo in your head until you fly upright, breathing hard as you take in the space around you

* For a second you’re not sure where you are

* This is your room, at the Cullen’s house in Forks

* You’re fine

* You’re safe

* You try to regulate your breathing, attempting to calm your mind with it

* It was just a nightmare. Not that you ever remember falling asleep to begin with

* “I didn’t think I could fall asleep anymore” you whisper

* You pretend to sleep, because it feels good. But you’ve never lost yourself like that before

* It felt so real

* “Finish what I started? And then after the story-“ You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end

* There was something- something you had tried a long, long time ago-

* Back when you still lived in Denali

* An idea you had come across once- after Edward told you how painful it was for him to turn

* But how would you even go about proving something like that?

* And what’s what might have happened after the book series got to do with any of this?

* You sigh, your head in your arms. It was just a dream wasn’t it? A nightmare from your insecurities?

* If you just whispered his name, Edward would be beside you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, erasing all your worries

* “ Unless you can snap out of that lovesick dream of yours and finish what you started, this is the future that’s waiting for you”

* You gulp

* You don’t need Edward to coddle you through every little nightmare, you decide

* Turning in your bed, closing you eyes and hoping to dream a more pleasant dream this time But you don’t dream at all, tossing and turning until light filters in through the blinds

Tags:  @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796 @moose-squirrel-asstiel @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho @corabmarie @what-am-i-doing10 @alluring-venus @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse @im-tired-not-sleepy @emmettcullenisahimbo @my-super-musical-life @smolvampiregirl @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @mihikaahujaaa @werewolflover3252 @teenagezombiekryptonite @shynz @reclusive-chicken-nugget @monkeyluver4546 @wonhomarshmallow @bwbatta @bubblyabs @thatwaspossesion @helzerat @parascape @ xxxmuxxx @katrodriguez99 @leilanixx

[tpwkjerii]

strawberry kisses

you and felix have a longstanding tradition of baking the day after finals. usually, it’s the best method of relaxing after long hours of studying. unfortunately, you find yourself rather tense this time — after all, it’s always fun to spend an entire day in a cramped kitchen with your crush, isn’t it?

pairing: lee felix x reader

warnings: fluff and kissing, mild angst, reader likes strawberries (sorry if you’re allergic skdlsd), ex boyfriend (but supportive bestie) minho, reader has low self confidence :(, like two curse words, kisses!!

genre: friends to lovers au, kinda idiots to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 2.9k+

a/n: short fic for Felix hehe

Your eyes glazed over as you reviewed the last response of your final exam of the term. After two long hours of plugging equations you hardly understood into your nearly-dead calculator and speed-writing to the point where you’re sure you’ve bruised your dominant hand, you finally finished. At lightning speed, you gathered your exam papers and submitted them at the front with a quick prayer to the universe.

A few other students followed your rushed pace out of the large lecture hall, all of you eager to finally get out of the stuffy room.

As you stepped out of the packed hall and into the cooling outdoors, you checked your phone, which was filled with texts from the one person you were trying desperately to get out of your head (and miserably failing at that).

felix (strawberry head) <3

5:23 PM

did you finish your chem final ???

hyunjin and i just submitted our video for our dance performance

your editing was very good btw :D

5:35 PM

y/nnnnn you’re taking forever :(

we’re waiting at the quad for you !!

5:40 PM

*i am waiting at the quad for you

the others got too hungry and left, but i’m waiting for you!

pls hurry it’s cold :[

You bit back a laugh at his texts, his heartwarming tone filling you with a familiar fuzzy feeling. You pushed the feeling aside as you texted a reply.

y/n

5:43 PM

be there in 2 :D

You stifled a smile as you rushed towards the quad. Soon enough, you saw Felix and his bright, red-dyed hair (you first noted that it closely resembled a strawberry). The moment your eyes met his, you felt your heart skip a beat and heat spread across your face. This was the common reaction you’ve had for the past few months whenever you see Felix.

He rushed over to you with a giddy smile and his arms outstretched. Quickly, he barrelled into you and pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You took so long,” he whined, his chest vibrating as he spoke.

“I know, I know. ‘M sorry,” you responded, your voice slightly muffled by his shirt. You took a second to enjoy his hold and the comforting warmth that Felix always provided you whenever he was near. Over the past few years, you’ve grown accustomed to the scent of his sweet floral perfume, the feeling of his tight hugs, and the way he played with your fingers when he was bored.

All the things you were fond of were now extreme nuisances in your life. Not because they were annoying or because you disliked Felix, but rather the complete opposite; you were completely, helplessly, and foolishly in love with him.

“You ready to go?” Felix asked suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. He brought his arms down from around you, and you looked down at the ground as you nodded, hoping that he didn’t see the intense blush that was spreading from your face to your neck.

You are so fucked for tomorrow.

After an entire night of tossing and turning in anxiety, the next day finally arrived. To say you were nervous was a massive understatement.

The minute you woke up, you began to anxiously clean your apartment while your roommate Ryujin laughed at you. As you wiped down every visible crevice, she made sure to pester you about a “missed spot” or tempt you with sweets.

“You’ve never cleaned this much whenever Felix came over before,” she pointed out with a laugh while you wiped down the kitchen counters for the fourth time.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice uncharacteristically high-pitched.

Ryujin scoffed. “It is so obvious that you like Felix, there’s no point in lying to me,” she stated bluntly.

Your hand froze mid-wipe on the counter. You looked over at your blue-haired roommate nervously. “Is it really… that obvious?”

“Yes,” she deadpanned.

You winced and dropped your head onto the smooth stone countertop. “Do you think he’s noticed?” you moaned into your arms.

“If he hasn’t, I will personally pay for his glasses prescription.”

You whined again as you lifted your head up to look directly at Ryujin. “If he’s noticed then why hasn’t he said anything?”

She stood up as she answered, “Not sure but you could always ask him today.”

Your mouth dropped in horror at the suggestion. “I can’t tell him how I feel! That would completely ruin our friendship!”

“So you’d rather continue tip-toeing around him and never get a clear answer?” she questioned, her arms crossed.

“Yes.”

Ryujin sighed and started to collect her things. “You can do whatever you want,” she started as she placed her papers in her backpack, “but I recommend you tell him soon.” She stood up and headed for the door. Just before opening it and leaving you alone with your thoughts until Felix arrived, she turned around and said, “I won’t be home until late, have fun.” With that, she winked and walked out of your shared apartment.

You scoffed at her suggestive tone and stood upright to check the time.

10:08 AM

You gasped. Felix said he was going to arrive at 10:30, but knowing him he would be at least 15 minutes early, meaning you only had 7 minutes to get yourself together!

You cursed and rushed to your bedroom. Switching out of your wrinkled pajamas, you opted for a random hoodie you grabbed out of your closet and jeans. After you changed, you made a beeline for the bathroom and fixed your appearance. You quickly brushed through your hair and washed your face, hoping you removed all remnants of your restless sleep.

Just as you predicted, you heard four distinctive knocks on your front door right at 10:15.

“Coming!” you exclaimed as you rushed out of your bathroom.

Right before you opened the front door, you placed a hand on your beating heart and mumbled words of encouragement to yourself. Then, after deciding that you were probably taking too long, you pulled the door open.

Immediately, Felix, covered in a large hoodie and arms filled with large bags of baking ingredients, greeted you with a large grin. Like every other time, you felt your heart skip a beat when you made eye contact with him.

“Hi,” you said simply, a smile on your face.

“Hi,” he responded. He looked you up and down, asking, “Are you wearing my hoodie?” 

You paled and looked down at the large pink hoodie, immediately recognizing it as the one that Felix lent you almost one year ago when he dropped you off at the airport since you forgot yours in the car. Once you got back from your trip, you’d forgotten to give it back to him.

“O-oh,” you stuttered, looking down at the oversized sleeves. “I didn’t even realize,” you continued awkwardly. “You can ha -”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, the smile never leaving his face. He shrugged. “You look better in it anyways.”

Your mouth dropped and you found yourself unable to respond for a few moments. Felix laughed at your dumbfoundedness and gently pushed you aside to walk into the apartment. Once he set the bags down on the kitchen counters, you returned to your senses and closed the door to walk over to him.

“So, what are we making today?” you asked, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. It wasn’t an easy task to do, considering his proximity to you.

You held your breath as he grabbed your hands and looked into your eyes. “What’s your favorite fruit?” he asked excitedly.

“Er, strawberries?” you answered, tilting your head to the side in mild confusion.

At that, Felix let go of your hands and quickly pulled out a carton of fresh strawberries from one of the bags. You gasped in delight at the sight of the bright fruit and immediately thanked him.

“It’s no big deal,” he responded while sliding the fruits into the fridge. “I’m gonna eat most of the tarts and choco strawberries anyways,” he added with a sneaky laugh.

You scoffed. “You always say that but you always end up giving me the most.” You smirked at him while taking out the baking materials.

“I don’t give it to you,” he countered. “You steal them.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you told him with a sing-song tone. He laughed from your side, and you swore that you heard actual sparkles, as if he were a fairy, when he did.

You cleared your throat, hoping to rid your mind of distracting thoughts that could be potential problems during the next seven hours that Felix would be at your apartment. “So, master chef Felix,” you started, lowering your voice like a TV show announcer. “What are you going to do first?”

“Well, my fair announcer,” he began, holding up the silicon whisk like a microphone. “I think we should start with preparing the shortbread dough, what about you?”

“Ah, you are the chef. Lead the way,” you responded with a wide smile.

You both laughed together and actually began the baking. Like usual, Felix did most of the work while you played music and assisted from the side. You worked together seamlessly, and soon enough the shortbread cookies were done and strawberry jam cooling to the side.

While you taste-tested the jam, Felix began to whisk the melted chocolate, and you took this time to admire him. You stood at his side, allowing you to admire his side profile.

Felix was easily one of the most beautiful individuals you ever laid your eyes on. But his appearance wasn’t the only part you fell for �� he was one of the few people whose inside beauty matched their outside beauty.

Felix was kind, funny, optimistic, and just about every positive adjective you could find in a dictionary. After every failed test, he was there with a cup of strawberry ice cream and a shoulder to cry on. When you landed your first job, he was there to celebrate with you even when your own family wasn’t. And when you and Minho mutually broke up, he was there to give you advice as you coped with the end of your first relationship.

How could you not fall for him?

And sometimes you had the feeling that he liked you back. The touches that would linger for just a few seconds too long, the soft smiles that Chan claimed he only ever gave to you, and his late-night texts all spurned a tiny hopeful fire in you that kept your crush alive.

No matter how many times you tried to get over him and convince yourself that your crush didn’t exist, the tiny voice in your head still spoke. “But what if he likes you back?”

Now, as Felix stood by your side with a soft smile on his face while he whisked the chocolate, that voice screamed louder than ever.

And just as you gained a sliver of courage, the same paralyzing thoughts that have held you back for the past few months returned.

Felix was out of your league in every way. He was social and easily commanded the attention of an entire room with so much as two words. His outward beauty matched his insides, and everyone on campus reached a collective agreement that if angels ever existed and walked among us — Lee Felix was certainly one of them.

And those things were only the tip of the iceberg that is Felix. He was talented, sensitive, supportive, passionate, and everything you could ever ask for and then some.

You then thought back to all the people he rejected - kindly, of course - and how you matched up to them. If Felix didn’t choose to go out with all those beautiful and talented people, what on Earth made you think you would choose you?

At this point, Felix picked up on your sudden silence and how your breaths grew heavy and uneven.

“Are you… alright?” he asked carefully, his own chest beating heavily.

You stared at him, panicked that he caught onto your apprehension. “Um…” you started, trailing off as you met his gaze.

Felix let go of the whisk and grabbed your hands. “You can say whatever you need to.”

“I uh,” you started after a few moments, internally battling yourself to gain courage as you realized that it’s now or never. “I kinda like you,” you admitted quietly, looking down at your intertwined hands anxiously. You waited for him to pull his hand away in disgust and start to kindly reject you like he did to all those other people, but it never came. After a few seconds, his hands still the entire time, you looked up at him with glassy eyes in confusion.

“What?” he finally said, his deep voice softer than ever.

You looked back down at your hands shamefully. “Do I really have to repeat it?” you asked weakly. “I like you, Felix. I have for the past few months and it’s been driving me insane because it feels like my heart’s about to stop dead whenever I see you and I can never think straight when you’re with me. Apparently, it’s been pretty obvious and I really tried my best to get over it so it wouldn’t hurt our friendship.

“Trust me, I really wanted to get over it but I couldn’t, and I know you don’t like me back so it’s ok. I can deal with it on my own and you can just leave a -”

“Y/N,” Felix said suddenly, his voice firm. You looked up, tears rolling down your face as you were sure that he was about to reject you.

“Felix please don’t interrupt me. At least let me finish what I have to say,” you pleaded softly, removing your hands from his.

“Y/N,” he repeated, his voice much gentler. He carefully wiped the tears from your face and took your hands into his again. “Can I say something before you finish?” he requested.

You choked back a sob as you nodded, certain that he was just going to let you down kindly.

“I like you too, Y/N,” he said shyly, a blush spreading across his freckled face.

Your entire body froze.

“I was too scared to admit it because I didn’t think you liked me back,” he continued, the words slowly registering in your mind. “To be honest, I thought you still liked Minho.”

You blushed at his words, thinking back to all the times you would pull Minho, your ex-boyfriend, to the side to talk about Felix these past few months. You didn’t realize how it must have looked to Felix or your other friends.

“I was also… afraid of ruining our friendship, so I’ve just kept it to myself the past two years.”

You gaped at him. “Two years?” you sputtered, causing him to laugh at the way your eyes widened comically. “That’s when we first started uni!”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I was instantly attracted to the way you fought Chan on why you should be allowed to keep the minifridge in your dorm,” he joked.

You blushed at the embarrassing memory, although it wasn’t completely regrettable as it was how you met most of your current friends — including Felix.

“I’m surprised,” you voiced simply. “I didn’t think you would ever like me back.” You breathed out, your muscles relaxing instantly.

Felix grinned again and he moved slowly to envelop you in his arms. He rested his hands on the small of your back and his head on the crook of your shoulder.

“Does this mean that I can take you out on a date?” he whispered.

“Will you promise to stop taking unflattering pictures of me and sending them to me in the middle of the night?” you asked, your head resting against his and arms around him.

He sighed. “Fine,” he answered reluctantly with a whine.

“Then sure,” you responded and pulled your head back to meet his eyes. His eyes shined from the sunlight pouring through the windows and his freckles glimmered like stars across a canvas. Felix was truly beautiful inside and out.

“You have some strawberry jam on your lip,” he said after a few silent moments where you both admired each other.

“Really?” you asked. Your hand moved from his back towards your face, but Felix caught your hand in midair and returned it to its original position.

“I’ll get it,” he murmured with a gentle smile before closing the distance between your lips.

You held your breath as he pressed his soft lips against yours. You instantly recognized the strawberry chapstick he uses and the taste of the shortbread cookies. He swiped his tongue against the corner of your lip, and the sudden sensation caused a shiver to run down your spine.

You brought your hand up to his hair and gently tugged at his dyed locks. Felix brought you closer to him and massaged your back as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, your face was burning red and you were completely breathless. Felix was smiling giddily, his arms still around yours.

“I think there’s still some jam left,” he told you, not even giving you a second to respond before he pressed his lips against yours once again. This kiss was much more playful than the last as you giggled against each other in the kiss.

“Did you get it all?” you asked him, your voice reduced to a murmur as he continued kissing your lips.

He hummed, kissing you once and twice in between, before responding, “I don’t think so.”

You laughed against his lips. “Well, I guess you better get it all. I can’t have strawberries stuck on my lips all day.”

He laughed with you, and true to his words, he eventually did get all the strawberry jam off (an extra two hours and an uncountable amount of kisses later).

[stillness-in-green]

MLA May AUs (Parts 13+14+15/31)

Intro Post

5/13: where are the constellations that guide me

+

5/14: never let go of the microscope

+

5/15: we're torn apart

(Three today, just to get nicely to the halfway point. With thanks in advance to leftof and Nal for the brainstorming that led to the first and second of these fills respectively.)

—–   —   —–   —   —–   —   —–   —   —–

where are the constellations that guide me

Shigaraki.  The attack on the hospital was aiming for Shigaraki.  Which meant the heroes—or just Endeavor?  The HPSC?  But that’s just details: someone knew about Shigaraki, and that means there’s a good chance that…

Tensei isn’t picking up.  Think, Tenya, think: where was he supposed to be today?  Physical therapy?  That big meeting?  Something with IDATEN’s business side?  Should I try Mother?  Grandfather?

The city around me moans.  What’s the word—disconsolate?  That’s too poetic, but it fits; the city is heavy with emptiness, aching with it, no sounds but shifting dust and distant  shouting, voices carrying much farther, audible over much greater a distance, than should ever be the case in an urban environment like this one.

Mother isn’t picking up.  Where are they?

Could the HPSC have found the League without discovering everyone now connected to them?  That can’t be possible.  If they found the League, they found us.  But if they found us, then why hasn’t anyone found me?  Would it have been too much a tip-off to pull me?  Were they just waiting to get me on my own—?!

…Still just empty streets.  And Grandfather isn’t picking up either.  My eyes burn, but I don’t dare stop moving to peel off helmet and glasses both to scrub at them.  Do I dare stop moving at all?  Can I ever stop moving again?

Slow down, slow down.  Stop panicking.  Where do I need to be?  If the Meta Liberation Army—if the Paranormal Liberation Front has been compromised, if IDATEN has been compromised, what’s the next step?

…What do you do when the entire firmament of your life has been ripped down without anyone saying a word?

I know I shouldn’t be relying on you still, Older Brother, I know I’m meant to be training to take the position that was supposed to be yours—but please, please pick up the—

The line connects.

“If this is anyone other than my little brother, I promise on my pipes that I’m gonna—”

“Older Brother!”  The words burst out of me on a humiliating hiccough of relief, the tears overflowing.  They cut him off before he can finish the uncharacteristic threat—he must be in trouble, if he’s talking like that.  “Older Brother, I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I didn’t know!  They didn’t tell us what the mission was going to be today or I’d have reported it, I swear!  I—”

“Woah, woah, Tenya, calm down!”  I can hear the relief in Tensei’s voice as well, just a hint of it beneath obvious strain.  “Where are you?  Do you need backup, or are you in a position to provide backup?”

The routine is a lifeline; I cling to it with both hands.  There’s a mountain of questions and answers still ahead, but it starts—just like everything—with the things that are right in front of me.

“I’m in Jakku.  They’re evacuating the whole city.  Shiga—the Grand Commander is awake and fighting.  I don’t know his current status beyond that.”  And now that I’m saying the words aloud, I already know what the order will be.

“Provide whatever support you safely can.  You know what his power can do now—what it could do even three months ago.  This was a huge coordinated action.  However we can do it,  we’ve got to throw that coordination off.  I’ve gotta go.  Don’t go back to UA.  We’re heading to the safehouse in—”

The line cuts out, and the anguish and fear nearly choke me into tripping mid-stride.  But I turn towards the north and keep running.  There’s nothing to do but keep running, and figure the rest out as I go.

—–   —   —–   —   —–   —   —–   —   —–

never let go of the microscope

“A few years ago,” the girl says into the microphone, black hair shining under every intermittent camera flash, “a friend of mine was visiting my home and happened to make a comment about how lucky I was, to have my own space to practice in.  She said that when she practiced at home, the neighbors complained.  It got me thinking.  She was right—I was lucky.  To have a space of my own, to have all the resources I could ever dream of.  Even to have a quirk like mine, that doesn’t create a disturbance just by me practicing it.  So, so many other kids—other students who dream of being heroes—aren’t as lucky as I was.  They have quirks that need more education than they have access to, more space to practice with than they have available—sometimes even more food than their families can spare.”

Her face takes on an urgent, compassionate cast.  Koku watches with a critical eye, but what flaws he can find are at worst superficial—she’s talking slightly too quickly; her makeup is just a touch glossy under the key lights.  Still in middle-school, but she really is a natural.  Perhaps it’s in her blood.

“What would I have done, I wondered, if I wanted to be a hero and failed a test I could have passed if I’d had more opportunities?” she goes on.  “And isn’t that unfair, both to the heroes we could have and the people those heroes could save?  That was the idea behind Heroes Tomorrow.”

The photographers sense the moment, and lights strobe around Yaoyorozu Momo’s perfect smile.

Afterward, she and her father usher a small group of journalists and sponsors around the building—the spacious gym, the outdoor court, the library, the cafeteria, the medical office.  As they walk, they trade off talking points about their goals for the future, the benefits of funding the place, the experts they’ve consulted, the specialists they’re planning on hiring.  Koku knows several of the names, having put the Yaoyorozus in contact with most of them.

It really is an extremely clever idea, one that could, in time, become an excellent source for warriors for the cause.  It is, however, an idea that requires a certain amount of money and social cachet to push through, and that benefits from only being supported by the Hearts & Minds Party, not proposed by them.  Charity and activism may overlap, but if one is going to challenge the murky borders of what the law regards as “private property” for the purposes of the bans on meta-ability use, the beaming face of well-intentioned and somewhat ignorant wealth will run into less resistance than the well-informed but confrontational rhetoric of the determined reformer.

After the tour, Koku shakes father and daughter’s hands alike, gives them his most polished smile, and wishes them and their endeavor all the best, please don’t hesitate to call my office if you run into any trouble, and so on.  The father is magnanimous and noncommittal—he’s spent all his life in this world and knows its rhythms and rhymes.  But he’s a man thoroughly charmed by his daughter’s zeal, and she lacks his experience.  She all but sparkles at Koku’s expressions of support.

In a few years, if Koku and his people perform up to task, he doesn’t doubt Miss Yaoyorozu will be an excellent warrior herself.

—–   —   —–   —   —–   —   —–   —   —–

(Content Warning: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.)

we're torn apart

“…And that’s the size of it,” Hawks finishes, some lengthy time after he opened the topic by drawing a feather sword on Best Jeanist.  He’s sitting down now, perched at the edge of Jeanist’s couch, barely having touched the cup of tea he periodically turns in his hands.  He looks up and gives Jeanist a rueful half-smile, his eyes knowing and much too sad for a man so young.   “I promise I wouldn’t ask something like this for anything smaller.”

“That’s quite a grave situation.”  On the other couch, his hands knitted together on folded knees, Jeanist dips his head in thought.  “Do you have any guarantee you’ll be able to keep my ‘body’?  Suspended animation wouldn’t save me from an impromptu cremation.  And there are worse things they do to bodies.  I don’t want to end up as one of those tattered Noumu.”

“No guarantees, sorry to say.  Though if it helps, we think they’re having trouble sourcing more Noumu right now.  Since Hosu and Kamino, they’ve gotten a lot stingier with using them.”

“I suppose that is true.  Then, assuming you can keep hold of me, how long do you expect to keep me under?  I said before that I was to be returning to duty soon—it won’t go unnoticed if I vanish.”

“And it’s that much time you won’t be there to help people who need it, yeah.”  Hawks nods understanding.  “I didn’t like that part either, trust me.  I’m hoping it won’t be long, but it depends on how long it takes to track down the creator of the Noumu.  I need to keep in their good graces at least until then.  Ideally, we’d be able to keep you as an ace up our sleeve, if we turn out to need that kind of surprise play.”

 “Are you expecting to need one?”  Jeanist arcs an eyebrow. 

“We’re not taking any chances with the League anymore.”  Hawks’ eyes harden.  “Once we find the Noumu guy, we’ll use whatever methods we have to to sew this whole thing up.”

“Hmm.”  Though the set of his mouth remains unreadable behind his high turtleneck collar, Jeanist sounds faintly amused.  “Well, I do appreciate your choice in metaphors.”  Gaze flicking towards the floor, he falls momentarily silent.

“I can only try to keep up with your fabric puns, Jeanist-sensei,” Hawks teases, though his lowered brows still show his tension.  Then he waits.

Eyes still fixed on some point past his floorboards, Jeanist at last pulls out a comb and runs it over the top of his head, following the curve of his hair.  His other hand lifts and echoes the gesture, drawing his hair towards a familiar forward point. 

There’s a rustle of fabric and the air between them explodes with dozens, scores of red feathers, large and small, lancing towards where Jeanist sits straight-backed and unmoving on the couch.

The crack sound echoes loudly through the apartment, rebounding off of its polished floors and the clean, flat expanses of its walls and windows.

Still caught in the momentum, the feathers don’t drop out of the air instantaneously, but the contours of them go soft; the deadly precision of their lines of attack swerve and divert, suddenly as aerodynamic as any feather blown free from a bird to drift freely towards the ground.  Several of them scatter across Jeanist’s lap as, on the other couch, Hawks slumps forward.

Jeanist sighs, standing up and brushing himself off.  He crooks one finger and waves his other hand; Hawks’ body drifts forward over the carpet as all of the living room’s curtains draw themselves closed.

He steps over to the floating body as its clothes turn it upright.  Only a scattering of blond hair is visible behind the hood of the shirt Hawks wore underneath his jacket, the mottled red cotton jerked up over his head and twisted firmly awry.  Jeanist gently smooths the fabric back and looks with regretful eyes at the Wing Hero’s expression of frozen desperation, at the impossibly sharp alignment of his drooping head to his shoulders.

“I’m truly sorry, Hawks,” Jeanist murmurs.  “If I could, I would have chosen a method that gave me a moment to explain, but you were just too fast for me to give you that opening.

“If it’s any comfort, by this time next week, the League of Villains will be no one’s problem anymore.”

—–   —   —–   —   —–   —   —–   —   —–

Notes for Iida:

I said it in my first post on this concept, but the Iida family being MLA just fits. Every part of it--Tenya's militant attitude, his anger issues, Tensei's chipper instinct to make sidekicks out of vigilantes, the multi-generational hero family that for some reason all have the same quirk—clicks perfectly.

I don't have much to say on this fill in particular in terms of cultural notes or explainers, save to note that Iida being MLA is one of those places that would make a huge difference, either because of the damage it'd do to class morale for him to be discovered and taken from them, or because of the damage he could do if, for example, he'd been buzzing around the outskirts of the Shigaraki fight in Jakku taking out heroes instead of saving them.

Expect a fill for Tensei eventually.

+

Notes for Momo:

This is one of those ideas that I think would do especially well for expanding on what the ideals of Liberation are, what's worth salvaging from them versus what's been lost to zealotry and radicalism over decades of isolation and groupthink. It'd be devastating for Momo to find out that her good idea was subverted away from her by an illegal cult, but at the same time, if the illegal cult was the first—maybe even the only—group to think her idea was valid and worth cultivating, what does that say about her idea? What does it say about the society she's living in?

Furthermore, can she rescue this idea, or is it irrevocably poisoned by association? All those people Representative Hanabata introduced her and her father to—are they all suspect? How far does it go? Does she find this out herself somehow, and then has to figure out what to do with the knowledge, or does only find out after the day of the raids? Is she targeted by the arrests herself?

These questions assume that the truth comes out before she gets pulled into the MLA herself, which I think would depend on how much pushback she had to fight to get her project up and running versus how quickly the events of canon catch up to her. But seeing as she's probably within a year to a year and a half of starting UA here, and from there it's only one extremely preoccupied year until the raids, I think it's a fair bet.

This is all naked supposition, of course. Maybe there are places like this in HeroAca!Japan, totally legal and on the up-and-up. A school to prepare you for hero school exams--like cram schools! It'd fit the milieu, certainly! But I feel like we've seen just enough characters in middle school flashbacks that we'd have heard about it if it did.

Anyway, suffice to say, I have a lot of questions about just constitutes "in public" versus "in private" where the quirk use laws are concerned; see also the Kaminari fill about all those alleged jobs you can use your quirk at that we're told exist but never, ever see being performed by anyone who doesn't already have a hero license.

(P.S. Trumpet means well, at least by his own warped standards, but he'd make a good villain for Momo, and an excellent villain for a conspiracy story. I wish the canon had used him as one.)

+

Notes for Best Jeanist:

o There are a lot of ways things could have gone horrifically wrong for Hawks and the HPSC in their spy games if even a single MLA-aligned person found out about the investigation before the investigation found out about them. This is among the more drastic of such examples.

o Fiber Master is one of those quirks like Uraraka's Float that would be appallingly dangerous in the hands of someone willing to commit murder with it. That goes double when it's in the hands of someone as decisive and implacable as Jeanist; see for example Kamino, where his instincts and experience led him to attack All For One on sight, leaving the greener Mount Lady shocked that Jeanist would attack a possible civilian.

o In the manga, when Hawks visited Jeanist, they were both out of costume; Hawks was wearing a hoodie. The anime (because the anime didn't want to spend money on the MVA arc, and model sheets for characters in non-standard outfits cost money) has both of them in their hero costumes. I think Jeanist could kill Hawks with his hero costume; my alternate ideas for how this would go down (warning for a violent topic here) involved him sharpening and hardening the fibers of Hawks's bodysuit top enough to either cut his throat or jab some guitar pick-shaped wedges into several points of his spinal column. Either method would have been bloodier, though, and taken precious seconds longer to kill him.

Jeanist probably considered the spinal column thing—he really didn't want to just kill Hawks without being able to explain why—but he didn't know Hawks' quirk well enough to say whether damage to the nerves in his spine would inhibit his ability to control his feathers, so just went for the quick and clean method with the hoodie. Anime!Jeanist would have had to either take the gamble and divert ballistic feathers as best he could with his clothes/curtains or come up with a different tack entirely. This would have been tricky, since Hawks would not have been of a mind to let him contact anyone else or take a day to think about it.

o Jeanist probably feels really bad about this when Shigaraki and the League go on to stomp Re-Destro in the Deika attack, winning the Grand Commander's loyalty and making themselves more of a problem for more people than ever before. He will have to get over it. He is, at least, in agreement that the Hero System is an untenably polarizing mess, which will have to do in the absence of more substantive common ground.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.15

Stressed

01/16/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,747

Warnings: angst, jealousy, anxiety, talks of pregnancy, conception troubles

A/N: I’m sorry this came so late and that it’s taking me time to get these out. I’m writing very slowly right now and I only have my brain to blame. I’m finding it so hard to focus right now and I’m not sure why. I’ve gotten away from my usual habit of writing when I wake up and before I go to sleep. Hopefully, I’ll get back to normal soon. I hope y’all like (hate?) this chapter! Things will start to get tough from here on out. I hope y’all will stick with me through it. xoxo

“Well, I’ve got to get back to my girls. Some of them have taken to sneaking out at night in an attempt to earn their wings. If I catch them, I get to make them do whatever I want and I’m not going to lie, it’s the best part of my day.”

Hilde smiles at you, and you try to give her a returning social exchange with the same energy but your mind and eyes keep drifting back to the astronomer across the room currently chatting with Bruce and Tony animatedly about something scientific that you don’t understand.

“Are you seriously stressing about her?” Hilde asks, exasperated with you already.

“No,” you answer with your feathers obviously ruffled. “I’m not.”

Hilde clearly doesn’t believe you as she skews her lips and tilts her head.

“I’m not!”

You say it too loudly and the trio on the other side of the table turn to look at you.

“Not what?” Tony asks, brow furrowed a little with curiosity.

“She’s not tired,” Hilde covers. “How about a tour from Her Majesty?”

“Uh, yeah, I can give you all a tour of the palace. It’s really big.”

“No,” Tony shakes his head. “No tour for me. As fun as following you around while you brag about how much bigger your house is than mine sounds, I just spent weeks in the trenches and I’m going to try and get some sleep or Pepper will ground me and won’t let me come out and play. So, I think, good night?”

“Right. Of course, yeah. Estrid?” You call out to the two large open doors.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” Estrid hurries into view, giving you a quick curtsy before standing with her hands at her front.

“Can you show Mr. Stark-”

“Really?” he asks, incredulous.

“Sorry, habit,” you laugh nervously. “Can you show Tony to his room, please? And Bruce?”

“Uh, yeah. I’d love some sleep,” he nods, rubbing his chest with one hand in slow circles.

“And Bruce as well,” you nod to Estrid who gives you another curtsy.

They all begin to stand, shoving their chairs back in under the table and taking a last drink.

“And…” with odd trepidation, you look at your husband’s very recent former lover and try not to feel too overwhelmed. “Jane?”

“No, actually I was hoping I could speak with you?”

She takes a step towards you, hands pulled to her front as she fidgets with the tips of her fingers for a second then drops them at her sides.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Thank you, Estrid. When you’ve escorted the gentlemen to their rooms, come find me so that you can show Jane hers when she’s ready.”

“Very good, Your Majesty,” Estrid nods, another curtsy before she turns to Bruce and Tony who now look nervous too as they give you and then Jane inquisitive looks. “This way, gentlemen.”

As Estrid disappears into the hallway, Tony and Bruce follow slowly leaving you, Hilde, and Jane to stand awkwardly in the smaller of the two dining rooms in the palace.

“Should I stay?” Hilde wonders, inching a little closer to you and reaching out to grab your elbow.

“Hm? No. It’s okay. But if you’re going-?”

“Your Majesty,” Heimdall’s warm voice fills the space strangely washing over you with a soothing calm.

Something about Heimdall always makes you feel at ease and the night suddenly seems very bearable.

“Heimdall will be taking over your care until Thor returns, is that alright?” Hilde checks, sounding genuinely worried.

“Will I do, Your Majesty?” Heimdall asks, his voice a gentle teasing.

“Of course, Heimdall!” your huff of a laugh pulls from him a gentle chuckle and he moves around towards you to draw your hand up to his lips.

It’s a genuine sign of respect and it warms your heart.

“Alright, well, I’m off. I will see you tomorrow, Your Majesty. Jane.” Hilde gives her a nod and quickly slides from the room eager to catch her troops out of bed.

Heimdall makes his way towards Jane and as she turns to him, she smiles wide, “Heimdall, it’s so nice to see you again.”

“Jane Foster,” he says her name in full though it doesn’t sound as if he’s being formal.

In fact, they sound pretty close.

“It has been quite a while.” They hug and your heart gives a strange uncertain clench. “How are you?”

“I’m good, all things considered,” Jane says.

All things considered? What things considered?

“Yes, well…” Heimdall leaves his words hanging there, full of meaning that you don’t understand and suddenly the warmth his greeting had left you with is gone and in its place is a sense of intrusion.

Jane was the Queen they had all been expecting. Suddenly feeling dismal, you turn away from their reunion to fill up your fancy silver cup with wine and take a nice long drink.

Without turning back around to look at her because in the moment you can’t really bear it, you address her and hope that your voice doesn’t give you away.

“What was it that you wanted to speak to me about, Jane?”

Hopefully it has nothing to do with Thor or you might just lose your head a little. While a part of you would very much like to bury the hatchet and put everything that happened with her and Thor in the past behind you, in this moment, the last thing you want to do is talk about how she is or was the love of his life.

That you know, right?

This is all so fucked.

“I was actually just wondering if you had a space that I could set up my equipment? Somewhere with clear access to the sky is preferable, and lots of space? I’ll need to set up my equipment to show Thor--and yourself what I’ve been seeing the last few months.”

You can hear it in her voice that she added you as an afterthought. She came to show Thor. To see him?

You hate this sudden insecurity growing inside of you, this second guessing that didn’t even exist until she walked into your home tonight.

Are you thinking too much? Is this wrong of you? Thor is your husband. He loves you. He says it every day. Several times a day because he knows you need to hear it. He physically shows you, also several times a day if he can. Just today, in the hallway downstairs…

“Your Majesty?” Heimdall prompts, pulling you from your thoughts.

You dismiss his concern without acknowledging it because it’s in his all-seeing eyes. Instead, you focus on Jane.

“I have the perfect space. It’s a bit of a walk. I mean, it’s still on palace grounds, just a bit further up the hill behind us. But it’s an observation tower Loki was having built probably for this exact reason.”

“Perfect,” she smiles, then moves to her chair to pick up a large brown bag you hadn’t noticed she’d brought in here with her. “After you?”

Heimdall follows behind the two of you and Jane follows a step behind as you lead her out of the palace back entrance which is hidden behind a smaller room behind the throne room.

The night is chilly and you wrap your arms around yourself and regret the shorter choice of dress.

Jane also seems to shiver for a moment but her own clothes are more tailored to the weather outside than yours is. Her shiver passes.

“Do you enjoy living here?” she asks.

For a moment you don’t realize she’s talking to you, then when no one else answers, you start and quickly clear your throat.

“Yes, I do. I mean, it’s cold a lot. I’ll be glad when Summer’s here. Spring is also kind of on the chillier side.”

“Yeah,” she smiles, as if she’s been here often.

The silence after her affirmation grows tense and your heart begins to pound as your mind goes into a flurry of what she might have gotten up to here in New Asgard before you’d come into the picture.

Warmth suddenly envelops you and you turn to look at Heimdall as he places his dark cloak over your shoulders.

“Thank you, Heimdall,” you gasp, reaching up to pull the cloak around yourself more tightly.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Heimdall nods, “It’s my honor.”

The terrain suddenly grows more rugged and Heimdall is quick to offer you his arm as you adjust your steps to accommodate the rockier path.

You make a mental note to have this pathway fixed. Smoothed out and maybe even given a railing as it gets steeper.

The only thing you can hear is the sound of three pairs of feet trudging along shifting stone and dirt then a softer step as the hill evens out a bit more and becomes covered in grass.

When you don’t have to look down at where you’re stepping anymore, you look up at the tower that looms ahead.

The base is made of heavy stone, each placed with precision and reinforced with steel supports. Wooden beams line each of the corners, decorated with carved images of what you can only assume are Asgardian moments in history.

When you’d come to see its progress at the beginning of its creation, you’d recognized the images of Thor and Odin in battle just above the beam that lines the doorway.

The rest of the tower is a mix of wood, stone, and iron. The aesthetic is very much like the palace, Asgardian curves and shapes fit into more modern Norse lines.

The three of you stop as you reach it and Heimdall hurries forward to throw the large door open.

As you step through, you see that the inside of the tower has not changed much since the last time you came to inspect it.

The bottom floor is a large empty room with only a fireplace against the back wall, exposed rafters up above before the height is cut short by the ceiling.

“Wow,” Jane does sound impressed, “This is great. Is there a-?”

“Upstairs,” you point towards the staircase to the right that rises up around the side of the room. “There’s another room, smaller, but it has a lot of balcony space.”

“Great! Thanks,” she sighs with relief as if she really didn’t expect you to give her some space to work, then heads towards the staircase.

“Um, there’s no furniture in here yet. I’ll have someone bring you some tables and chairs, is there anything more specific that you need?”

Jane stops at the foot of the stairs then turns to look at you and then the space of the bottom floor.

“Would it be possible to get a bed in here? You’re right, and it is a long way from the palace. I’m gonna be in here probably all the time so…?”

You know that she isn’t asking for the impossible or anything out of the question, but suddenly the idea of making this tower her little space has a whole other life playing out in your head.

A life where you had married Thor and he had been unable to give up Jane. A life of her living here at the palace with you in her own space where Thor can come and be with her in private away from prying eyes while still giving the appearance of being with you, his Queen in name only.

“Your Majesty?” Heimdall prompts you quietly, reaching out to touch your elbow again and pull you from the pain and panic you’re trying to hide.

You force a smile, a small shake of your head, “Yes, of course. Sorry, I’ve had a busy day. I’ll have them bring you everything you need within the hour.”

“Thank you. Once I have everything set up I’ll make sure to show you what I’ve found and then Thor can um, plan for what might come?”

“Of course,” you agree, eager to get the hell out of here and back to your room where you can fall apart in private. “Now, I hope you’ll excuse my bad hosting skills, but I really am super tired and I think I’m going to turn in a little early.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! No problem at all,” Jane smiles, “Thank you for all your help. And dinner! Dinner was so good. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. I’ll let Cook know,” you nod, hoping that your smile isn’t too tense for the moment. “Good night.”

“Night!”

You’re almost grateful for the cold night air as it bites the skin of your cheeks. Anything is better than the stress you just felt in that tower.

You hear the heavy door of the tower close behind you, then Heimdall’s footsteps join your own though your heavy breathing is alone as he walks calmly beside you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Heimdall wonders, gentle and honestly concerned.

“I’m fine,” You lie.

“Does having Jane Foster here bother you? There is no need for you to worry. I have seen Thor be with many women-”

“Oh, my God,” and you can’t help but huff a laugh. “Not helping, Heimdall.”

“-and I have never seen him be with anyone the way he is with you. It’s more than just love. It's a partnership. Companionship. It’s friendship. Trust. After their initial reconnection, Thor’s trust in Jane and their courtship dwindled and as you know, by the end, it was completely gone.”

“So, what you’re saying is he’s so sure that I love him that he has no reason to worry?”

Which is true, you do and he has no reason to worry about you not loving him or falling for someone else at this point. You can’t even imagine being with anyone the way you’ve been with Thor.

“He’s not afraid to lose me?” You hate giving into these thoughts.

Honestly though, talking about them to someone will help you sleep tonight. Maybe.

“Yes,” Heimdall agrees. “And no. Even now, this very moment, all he can think of is you.”

You stop walking, stunned by his words because you’ve never asked him to look for you. You’ve heard Thor ask him to see things before, to search, and Heimdall always has. It had never crossed your mind to do the same.

Then again, this is the first time you and Thor have been apart since before you were married.

“What-You can see him?” Heimdall looks down at your feet, focuses what must be his mental eyes, and then slowly nods.

“He’s distressed at leaving you here alone, he’s finding it hard to focus on what Fandral is telling him and Fandral is growing more and more upset.”

You smile, completely absorbed by this information.

“Did he ever ask you to look for her? For Jane?”

Your words are quiet, hesitant, though your heart feels slightly more at ease by Heimdall’s reassurance.

“In the very beginning of their courtship, just after he left Earth and the bifrost was destroyed. Their love was new then. It was short-lived. Then Thor came back to Earth and they were able to be together, for a time.

“But their compatibility has always had its trials. After some time together, Thor was called back to the Universe and Jane had her own work to do. Their responsibilities have always pulled them apart and if I’m honest, Thor is the more hopeless romantic between them.”

You think about all of the small things that Thor has done for you since you came back home. The flowers, the baths, surprise dinners, the small presents hidden under your pillow or in drawers he knows you’ll get into. He’s done a lot more to show you he’s thinking about you during the day than you have and you can understand what Heimdall is saying.

You’re not so much a gift giver in love it seems, and instead give him all of the affection he’d seemed so starved for in the beginning.

“Her being here will not damage your marriage. Trust me.” Heimdall finishes.

You lead the walk again, moving slower but calmer after Heimdall’s reassurance.

“Will you come back up and check that Jane gets everything she needs? We really should have had the tower set up a long time ago.”

“As soon as I am certain you are in your quarters safe, with a guard outside your door, yes. I can ensure that she has everything that she requires.”

For a few minutes you walk in silence, at ease. When you reach the back doors of the palace however and he holds the doors open for you, you turn to Heimdall and after a quick bite to your lip, “Is he still with Fandral?”

Heimdall smiles and nods, “Fandral is yelling at him for not paying attention.”

Both of you laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s so early when you wake. It’s still dark outside and you’re almost sure that sunrise is still a few hours away.

You’re exhausted. Eyes burning as you push yourself up and the night plays itself over.

So suddenly you’re anxious again, nerves making your fingertips tingle and your stomach do an uncomfortable flip as you turn over onto your back to look at Thor’s side of the bed.

It’s undisturbed. Both pillows are still in their made up position.

He said he’d be back very late at night, early morning at the latest. You’d been hoping for the former.

With a groan, you sit up, sliding slowly down to the end of the bed and the bench where Thor sits to put his boots on.

You’re so groggy. The night was restless and you’ve really only gotten about an hour of sleep. Two at the most.

It’s stuffy in the room, the fire still burning and leaving you a little sticky from being huddled underneath a heavy blanket because you’d missed the weight of Thor’s arms all night.

The large glass doors across from you rattle from the wintry breeze outside, beckoning you forward for relief from this heat.

As you step on the floor, your body is rocked with a shiver that pushes you up onto your toes. As fancy as this palace is, you’ll have to ask Thor if it’s possible to get some heated floors installed.

Moving as quickly as you can, you don’t stop until you’re at the doors and then thrust them open and absolutely inhale the frigid late night air.

You scan the distant ocean as it spreads into the horizon, the sky it touches still an inky black with a breathtaking scattering of stars.

You can hear the Valkyrie below in their barracks and training grounds already working hard to get into shape. Hilde must have really caught them sneaking out.

Heimdall should be waiting close by. You really want to see if he has news about Thor’s schedule and if maybe he’s on his way home and just running late.

As you turn to walk back into the room, you freeze as your eyes scan the tower you’d set Jane up in.

From this angle you have a clear view of the balcony. She’s already set up her equipment. You didn’t know that you could see this well into the tower.

It’s all lit up like a beacon in the dark.

It’s an unpleasant reminder that she’s here and you make a mental note to keep the curtains drawn when you know she’s up there. Which you realize that unfortunately, will probably mean all the time.

Sighing, you move towards the door but then freeze again as Thor moves from the balcony doorway towards a large telescope attached to what looks like heavily modified computers.

He’s still in uniform, smiling. Behind him, Jane follows, arms wrapped around herself before she stops too close to Thor for your liking.

She rushes around him and looks through the eyepiece. You can see her talking away, mouth moving at the speed of light as she explains something to him, her hands flying around her as she talks, apparently the cold is forgotten.

She pulls away from the telescope as Thor chuckles then moves back inside out of sight as Thor sidles up to the eyepiece but doesn’t touch it yet.

The telescope moves, clearly Jane adjusting it from inside where she must have set up her computer equipment.

Thor takes a step back then the telescope stops and Jane flutters back out onto the balcony and gestures for Thor to look through.

He does, Jane moves in beside him, saying something that must be a whisper if she’s standing that close. He says something back.

The two of them having a pleasant conversation.

The clench in your chest feels choking.

Thor pulls back from the eyepiece and turns to look at her.

He’s too far away for you to see his expression, too small. But their faces are so close and he doesn’t pull away.

You sink back into your room, terrified to see something that will ruin the perfect bliss you’ve been in these first three months of your marriage.

Not that it isn’t already ruined. You’ve been a mess since Jane showed her face and now with what you just saw, how can you feel anything but lousy?

You don’t do what you want to do. You don’t slink back into bed and hide under the covers to wallow.

Instead you move to your closet and look for a dignified dress. Something that you can wear that will scream Queen of New Asgard but also be relaxed enough for you to work in.

You choose something with a simple cut. Long sleeves, a deep V in the front, with a loose flowing skirt but a tight bodice to match the equally tight sleeves. The color is an iridescent black that shimmers in teal and startling pink.

The color reminds you of the northern lights with a splash of the hazy pink in the orion nebula. It’s beautiful and otherworldly, and it screams Queen of Asgard in casual formal.

With the dress you move back into the room and hang it on the small stand in front of the full length mirror by your vanity before grabbing some new underwear and moving into the bath.

You ignore the large tub you and Thor have spent hours upon hours in and quickly shower instead. You emerge fresh and clean, though not exactly refreshed.

You’re stepping out of the shower when your bedroom doors open and you freeze, staring at them as they swing forward with your hands pressed to the top of your towel holding it shut.

Your heart drops when Estrid smiles prettily at you, turning around to close the doors as she greets you.

“Good morning, Your Majesty, did you sleep well?” She moves straight for your vanity to pull out the brush, pins, and makeup she usually uses on you in the morning.

She’s in here much earlier than normal and she can’t have gotten that much sleep herself. She’s so attuned to you now that you’re worried for her but also grateful.

“Good morning, Estrid,” you reply, refusing to answer her question because she’d only worry. “Did Ms. Foster get all of the things she needed in the tower?”

“Yes, m’am. Heimdall made sure that she had everything she would need for her research before he retired to stand guard at your door.”

You have an endless stream of questions about Thor in your head, things you want to ask Estrid but you bite your tongue as Estrid helps you on with your dress then sits you down at your vanity to dry your hair and work on today’s set of braids.

Time passes as she works. Time that feels like seconds to you as your mind works hard to try and reassure your heart that you have nothing to worry about, and yet, it still aches.

“You’re very quiet this morning, Your Majesty,” she observes.

“Yeah. I don’t really feel like talking unless I have to.”

“Very well, Your Majesty,” she accepts, but then after a few minutes of silence. “Are you not feeling well? Shall I send for the doctor?”

“No, Estrid. I’m not sick. I’m-shit, what’s the date today?”

Reaching around, you look for your phone to check the date.

“‘Tis the fifteenth, Your Majesty,” Estrid informs you.

“Did you forget about me already?” A deep smooth voice slides in from your doorway and you turn in search of the comfort the tone gives you.

“David!”

On your feet and across the room, David greets you with open arms. A small firm hug is what he gives you before kissing the side of your head and then pushing you back to look at you.

His eyes linger on your stomach for a moment before he frowns playfully.

“Nothing yet? I guess we’ll find out today if we’re to expect anything in the next month.”

“No pressure,” you reply sarcastically.

David chuckles, his fancy four piece navy suit a display of his busy nature. As much as he wants to visit, you know that he’s busier now with so many people wanting his services. The prestige of being the Queen of New Asgard’s lawyer has brought him a windfall.

Not that he needs it, but he appreciates the work.

“I did forget we had a testing today. Something happened yesterday.”

Your voice filters into a whisper at the end, though you’re not even aware of it.

David matches your energy, though he doesn’t whisper, he recognizes your stress and concern saturates his entire person.

“What’s happened?”

“I-” You look towards Estrid, and she’s so good that she’s cleaning your vanity, ignoring your conversation as best she can, but still. “Estrid, were you finished with my hair?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she turns to you and smiles. “Will you be needing anything else? Breakfast in the breakfast room?”

“Are you hungry, David?”

“No, I’m not. Thank you.”

“No breakfast, Estrid. Thank you. When the doctor arrives, can you show him in?”

Estrid curtsies, and without another word, she leaves you and David in the room.

“You look beautiful today, by the way,” David tells you as he moves towards the small table in the corner to sit but waits for you to reach your chair first to pull it out for you.

“Thanks, I chose it very carefully,” you admit. “Does it make me look like a real Queen?”

“You are a real Queen,” David assures you, then cocks his head as he registers your stress again. “What happened last night?”

You sigh heavily, using your nails to pick at the woodgrain of the table, shoulders slouched a little as you deflate.

“Jane showed up with Tony and Bruce,” you reveal, a shaky breath accompanying your desperate information.

“Oh? At Thor’s invitation?” David wonders, which honestly sobers you up a little from your depression.

“No. I don’t think so. I mean, Tony and Bruce were supposed to come to install a security system for the palace and I guess maybe she just tagged along?”

“And you are upset that your husband’s former lover has forced her way into your new home.”

It’s not a question. David has always been very observant and he sucks for it. Jerk.

“Well...yeah. But that’s not why-”

“Something else happened?”

David leans towards you and places his hand over yours, a soft knowing look on your surrogate father’s face.

With a quick little sigh you tell him about your stress over not getting pregnant and the pressures from the ambassadors to do that before more time goes by to secure the ties between the Asgardians to Earth. You tell him about your worries about Jane that have died down a little since you and Thor got married but have never truly gone away. Lastly, you tell him about what you saw this morning and how you’d been expecting Thor to come directly to you when he got back but clearly that’s not happening.

“Maybe I’m being too sensitive? But I mean, it’s been what? An hour and a half since you got here and he still hasn’t come to look for me?”

You reach over and rub your arm, the soft fabric of your dress pleasing but only in the back of your mind where you’re not thinking about Thor and Jane.

“If that is how you feel, then that is how you feel. The important part now is talking to Thor about it. Couples lose out when they feel about something the way that they do and then keep it to themselves. Even Gods are not mind readers.”

David tilts his head, eyes looking across the room for a moment before he looks right back at you.

“At least not to my knowledge.”

You almost smile, but the stress of talking to Thor about this is giving your anxiety a nice boost.

“What if I don’t like what he says?”

“Then you don’t like it. You cannot avoid the confrontation because you might not hear what you want to hear. That is not how a marriage, or any relationship works. In big moments like these, honesty I think is the best policy.”

He’s right of course. You know he is. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

You close your eyes and try to see Thor’s handsome face smiling sweetly at you, just as he had yesterday before he left. Instead you see him smiling down at Jane next to that stupid telescope, him chuckling at whatever she’s saying as she talks away about her work.

Two knocks to your door pull you from your stupid thoughts and drop your heart into the pit of your stomach, but Estrid peeks in to make sure that you’re okay to see her.

Suddenly, you’re dreading seeing Thor.

“Come in, Estrid.”

She moves in, behind her follows two doctors. One is a woman with a lovely heart shaped face and long full dark brown hair that compliments her olive skin. She’s wearing a sleek gray pantsuit, pink camisole underneath, and a thick black coat draped over her arm.

Her name is Amana Wilson and she has been your gynecologist since David gave you your inheritance and you were able to afford better healthcare.

The second doctor is an older man with a thick black beard streaked through with bits of gray. He glows an almost ethereal way. Clearly Asgardian. Your general caregiver since you moved to New Asgard, Doctor Alric Orvinson smiles eagerly, kindly, a pure excitement radiating off of him.

He’s always so eager to put everything he’s learning into practice.

Doctor Wilson curtsies and Doctor Alric bows before they both greet you in unison.

“Your Majesty,” they say.

David waits until you’re standing before he stands too, but then he moves towards the doors.

“I think I’ll go have some of that breakfast you offered me,” he tells you then makes his way towards the large doors. “Doctors, I know you will give Her Majesty the best care you can offer?”

“Of course,” Doctor Wilson assures him and he leaves you with a quick wink of his eye.

“Thank you, Estrid. Make sure David gets a proper meal? No pop tarts!”

“Party pooper!” David shouts back.

Estrid curtsies, “Right away, Your Majesty.”

She leaves you quickly with a chuckle in her throat at your exchange with David.

As the door closes, you take a step towards your doctors and slowly release a held breath.

“So, what will it be today? Should I go strip or…?”

“No. Not today. Since we did a physical on you last time, we won’t worry about that during this visit,” Doctor Wilson assures you.

“Today, Doctor Wilson will be watching me take some blood and perform a pregnancy test to see if you are expecting our heir!”

Our heir?

New Asgard sees the future prince or princess to come as their own. It’s not just your and Thor’s baby. This baby, if and when there is a baby, is an entire people’s baby.

You feel your anxiety rise again. Clenching your hands, you nod and force a smile as Doctor Alric moves towards you with a large metallic box that he places down and opens.

Inside comes a rush of cold air and what looks like medical equipment used to test blood. You don’t know what it’s called and it’s super high tech. Nothing that you’ve ever seen before.

Your two tests before had been sent to labs and then you’d received the results a few days later, if they’re testing the blood here, does that mean faster results?

“So, how long will I have to wait this time then? To know whether I’m doing my job or not?”

Doctor Alric looks up at you with slight surprise and worry.

There must be something in your voice since he seems to realize what he’s said is putting pressure on you because he stands up straight and fixes his own suit jacket before speaking.

“Your Majesty,” he begins, but Doctor Wilson moves to stand beside you and places her hand on your shoulder.

“Within the hour. This is Stark tech, so it’ll be quick and accurate. Have you been stressing about getting pregnant?” She’s so much softer than Doctor Alric, but not because she’s a woman.

She just knows you better.

“Kinda hard not to with an entire planet waiting for it,” you admit. “Do you think that if-if it’s negative, should Thor and I stop trying so hard? We’re trying daily. No breaks.”

“I think the stress more than the trying will probably make it harder but you’re both healthy. It will happen. If you are tired and you think the stress is too much, then take a break. It won’t do any harm if you lose a couple nights of sleeping with your husband.”

You feel a swell of relief for this human woman who knows just what to say. You give her a sly smirk.

“Have you seen my husband? It’ll hurt.”

She laughs a quick knowing chuckle, “Trust me, you don’t gotta tell me how fine he is, Your Majesty.”

Both of you laugh a few seconds then you take the seat that Doctor Alric sets beside you and while you roll up your sleeve, he and Doctor Wilson fly off into medical jargon that you don’t understand and consequently zone out into thoughts of Thor and why the fuck he still hasn’t come to see you.

[celestialinception]

When All is Right with the World (pt.2)

Summary: When the ministry issues a call out for the proving of blood status, Fred decides that it’s too dangerous for the Reader and him to be together, leading to unforeseen consequences.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Whump, brief mentions of torture, mutual pining- with a happy ending.

With a crack, Fred and George landed outside the gates of Malfoy Manor and began pacing around to one of the servant entrances. The wind was loud, and the sound of shaking trees muffled their voices.

“Right- in and out. And we’re splitting up. We can cover more ground that way.”

George nodded, not minding that they were going to completely disregard what their father had told them. “We’ll meet back where we came in in 15 minutes. That way if she’s not there we can keep moving, and if one of us gets caught we know somethings up.”

Fred’s mouth was set in a grim line. He shook his head in assent and continued walking through the long grass, his shoulders squared.

“We’ll find her, Fred. We’ll get to her before…” George trailed off. He couldn’t complete that sentence truthfully.

George was very worried as to what he and his twin might find in the Manor. As core-shaking as the image of Y/n’s unconscious or worse, dead body, was when it came to mind, it was nothing compared to the image of his brother finding the body and losing the plot, resulting in him inadvertently killing them both.

Fred had changed since he had cast Y/n out. His old cheerful and exuberant demeanor was faded, and instead a cynical, hardened exterior had taken its place. George also knew that he rarely had a full night’s sleep, as was evident by the dark rings under his eyes and also the fact that Fred always went to bed later and got up earlier than himself. While George was externally annoyed by this new Fred, internally he was constantly worrying about when Fred would reach breaking point and snap.

Fred didn’t say a word, and they continued until they had made it through the gate and into the kitchen of the manor. They passed through the doors, finding a long hallway.

“Shout if you need.” George said.

“Yeah. You too” and with a quick nod to each other, took off in separate directions.

The scent of old drapes hung in the air as George traveled down the corridor. He checked every door as he passed by, peeking in to see if Y/n was in one of the rooms. He was desperately hoping to find Y/n before Fred did, therefore he would be able to prepare Fred if the worst had happened.

He turned down another hallway and had gotten halfway down it when a muffled scream was heard coming from a door down the hall. George took off.

He reached the door, and checking that no one was around, cast alohomora in case the door was locked and opened it slightly. He had to be sure it was Y/n before he went barging in.

The croaky voice of a girl sounded, but it was so low, George couldn’t identify if it was Y/n.

“Please… Please don’t…”

A man’s voice floated into the hallway.

“Now, now lovely, don’t be like that. Just a bit more, I mean you can’t be dead when they see ya’ you’d be no use otherwise. Just a couple more lovely litt’le markin’s for ya, and we’ll be done for the moment.” George looked through the doorway and the chilling scream that sounded from the girl twitching on the floor shook him more than he had ever been in his life.

The door banged against the wall as George threw it open.

“STUPEFY!”

Rookwood slumped over to the side from where he had been positioned over Y/n. George ran to her side.

“Y/n! Are you alright!? Come on, answer me… dammit!”

The pools of blood that were lying in the hollow of Y/n’s collarbones were seeping onto the floor. Tremors shook her body, and even if she heard him, she couldn’t even look at him. They needed to get her out of here.

“FRED! FRED! I’VE FOUND…” His voice trailed off as the form of Lucius Malfoy strode in through the door, wand pointed at George.

“Ahh, so there was a little rescue mission after all. Well, it’ll make it easier to get information I suppose. Get away from her, go on now.” Lucius nodded his head to the wall.

“Not a chance, mate.” George stood defiantly over Y/n’s body, trying to shield her from view.

Lucius sighed. “Very well then,” A groan from Y/n caused George to look around, and in the split second of distraction, ropes flew from the end of Lucius’s wand and around his body. With a flick, George was pinned to the wall.

“Now, “ Lucius stalked over to Y/n and dragged her halfway upright by her arm. As he did so, her arm made an awful crunching sound, and Y/n, in her barely conscious state, cried out. Lucius put his wand just underneath the cut under her collar bone. “If you comply and give me what I want, she can be returned to you with no further harm done and you will be permitted to leave no questions asked.” He pressed into her skin, and she groaned. “But if you don’t, I will personally make sure she dies in the most excruciatingly painful way possible. Your choice.”

The blood was dripping from her clothes now. George’s mind was racing, weighing up betraying Harry and letting Y/n die. Neither option was acceptable.

Lucius grew impatient, “Let me spur along your decision making… CRUCIO!”

Y/n’s body writhed, and her screams had him pulling frantically on the ropes that were binding him.

“Y/N! I’LL TELL YOU I’LL TELL YOU STOP HURTING HER I SWEAR I WILL TELL YOU PLEASE…”

A loud bang sounded, and Lucius Malfoy was hurtled away from Y/n into the wall across from George. Fred stormed into the room, eyes blazing. She slumped down to the ground, and George’s ropes fell away onto the floor, he rushed to her side. Fred, seeing that George had Y/n, turned back to see Lucius clambering to his feet.

Lucius turned his wand on Fred, but Fred was quicker.

“Incarcerous.” Lucius’s body was immediately seized, and with a flick of his wand, Lucius was forced roughly back into the wall, head banging on the stone. His slumped form appeared concussed, struggling to focus on Fred as he drew nearer. Fred placed the tip of his wand harshly under Lucius’ chin.

Fred’s voice was so low that George could barely hear it. “If you ever touch her again, I will ensure that you never again see the light of day.” In that moment, George was sure Fred was half-crazed, finally cracked. Fred walked over and scooped Y/n out of George’s hold up into his arms.

“Let’s go.” He nodded at George and with a crack they hurtled away from Malfoy Manor.

_____________________________________________________________

Y/n woke to the feeling of cold wind on her face. Opening her eyes, she found herself in yet another unfamiliar room and began to panic. She went to sit up in bed, but upon moving, was stopped as a sharp stabbing pain pierced through her side and shoulder. Moaning slightly in pain, she stopped trying to move and through watery eyes, settled for looking around to see where she was.

The cold air was coming through the gossamer curtains lining the open window to her left. She appeared to be in a bedroom, tucked up under covers and wearing a set of pajamas that weren’t hers. Someone had dressed her while she was unconscious. That thought almost caused her to start hyperventilating, but the sharp pain in her side reminded her to stay calm and breathe slowly.

She tried to remember how she got here. The last thing she remembered was George getting thrown into a wall by Lucius Malfoy. George. Fred.

If George was there, there was a large chance that Fred might have been nearby. Maybe they had rescued her. Or maybe someone else had helped her and the twins had been captured. She needed to make sure they were both alright.

Y/n had been positioned on her side and deduced that due to her shoulder she probably wouldn’t be able to roll over. She did need to get out of this bed though and figure out what was going on.

Very, very, slowly, Y/n began to shuffle her way out of the bed, trying desperately to silence her gasps of pain. She had managed to flip her knee over the side and land upright on the floor, and then looked up to see a familiar red-haired man slumped over the bed. Her heart began to beat faster.

Fred had fallen asleep by her bedside, the sounds of his breathing barely audible over the wind. The only way Y/n was able to tell he was alive was through the soft rise and fall of his back. She did not want to wake him however.

As much as she then tried to deny it to herself, feelings from months of missing him rushed back to her. She wanted nothing more than to stagger across the bed to him and kiss him. But she had no idea of why he was here.

Was he only there because he felt guilty? Was he there on George’s orders, only to make sure she was still breathing as a favor to him? Had George gotten hurt trying to rescue her, and Fred was only here so that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain?

All these possibilities swirled around her mind, and further convinced her not to wake him. She needed to find George.

Y/n was able to use her non-injured arm to get up onto her feet, but she was very unsteady. Her legs felt like lead, and her head began to spin as she took several steps.

She had gotten halfway across the room when a large wave of dizziness overcame her, and she tumbled right down to the floor. White overcame her vision as her crash jolted her injuries, and if the loud noise hadn’t woken Fred up, her cries of pain definitely did.

“Y/n!” Fred was at her side in a moment, carefully trying to turn her over up off the ground.

“What are you doing? You could hurt yourself even more. Dammit woman, I…” He trailed off as he saw her tears of pain.

His voice immediately went softer.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He cradled Y/n into his body as gently as possible and began to lift her back into the bed. She couldn’t help but whimper at the movements, but her vision was becoming foggier, the urge to slip into unconsciousness growing stronger by the second.

Fred managed to place her under the covers back in her original position without any more jolts. Y/n tried to look back to see his face but was immediately stopped by his hands. He came around to the other side of the bed, so she wasn’t straining.

“Trying to give me a heart attack again woman, you would think I did something horrible to you.” Even though he said it light-heartedly the truthfulness of the words still hurt him.

“Fred I…” She trailed off as tiredness was overtaking her.

“Shhh, it’s alright.” Fred smoothed her hair back off her face. “You can berate me all you want when you’ve had some more sleep. I’m going to go and get some more bandages, but I’ll be back soon.”

The fatigue finally won out and she fell into unconsciousness.

The blooming red on her bandages made Fred sigh deeply. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead before getting up and walking out of the room.

He was met by the sight of George coming up the stairs.

“I heard a crash. Is everything alright?”

“I fell asleep and Y/n tried to get up. She only made a couple steps before she fell over. She’s very weak still. I think she reopened some of the cuts. I’m just going to get more bandages.”

It seemed that the knife Rookwood had used on her was enchanted. Despite the complex spell work performed on her, Y/n’s cuts were still very slow to heal and opened at the slightest stretch. It had taken many blood replenishing potions to stop the shock from the blood loss.

George turned and walked down with him into the kitchen. “How did she react when she saw you?”

He gritted out, “She was anxious. The fall probably didn’t help that though. I don’t think she wanted to wake me.”

“She’s probably just confused as to what’s going on. It’ll get better when she understands.”

Fred turned sharply to face him,

“Will it? She didn’t try not to wake me because she was confused. She hates me. She probably couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me. I don’t blame her.”

He grabbed several bandages out of the cupboard and shoved them at George.

“Here, grab Fleur and give these to her. I doubt Y/n will want me to see her. I’m going for a walk.”

_____________________________________________________________

The next time Y/n woke, the window was closed, and the blonde figure of Fleur was setting down a tray on the side table.

“Good morning, Y/n. I’m glad to z’e you are up.”

“Fleur? Where am I?”

“Shell c’ottage. You are in ze guest bedroom. You ‘ave been ‘ere for ze’veral days.”

Y/n tried to sit up, with more success than last time.

“Days? What do you mean days? Where’s Fred?”

Fleur lightly pushed her back down to the bed.

“Gentl’y now. Or you will break open z’e wound again. He is out walking I z’ink. George is in ze ‘ouse though. It might be better if he explains it.”

“Could you get him please. I need to thank him for helping me.”

“O’f course Cherie. Just a momen’t.”

Y/n fiddled with her hands as Fleur glided out the room. At least she was able to move around without sharp pain through her shoulder blade. She must have fractured something when they had apparated her to the Manor. She looked up as George walked in the room.

“I heard someone was in dire need of my company.” George smirked

In her excitement, Y/n made another move to get up.

“George! Come here!”

“Oi don’t move now or Fleur’ll yell my other ear off.”

He picked up his pace and came to the side of the bed.

George leaned down over the bed and hugged her. Y/n was relieved to see and touch him again. After the breakup, she had not only lost her boyfriend, but one of her best friends as well.

“You should have seen the speech she gave Fred after you got up the first time. You can tell she’s part Veela, gets scary when she’s angry. Don’t know how Bill does it.”

He turned serious as he pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You alright though? You scared me back there.”

“I’m okay. Thanks for rescuing me.” She scanned him up and down, “Were you hurt?”

“Me hurt? Nah, I’m too manly for that.” Y/n rolled her eyes as she laughed, “And it was a joint effort, Fred drove the whole mission really.”

“Fred was there?”

“Yup. Stormed in and saved us both really. Lucius had me cornered.”

“Oh,” Her eyes began to swim with guilty tears. “I’m so sorry. You both could have been hurt or killed and it would have been my fault. If I had just covered my stupid bloody tracks, they wouldn’t have found me.”

She hung her head, and George put a hand on her arm.

“Y/n, it’s not your fault. We would have been in way worse trouble if we hadn’t been prepared. Fred wouldn’t have hesitated to say anything to stop you from being hurt.”

“No, he wouldn’t, I’m not worth that. He would never have picked me over Harry.”

He raised his eyebrows at her,

“Oh, wouldn’t he? As soon as you sent that Patronus, he went in, no second thoughts. It was all Mum and Dad could do to stop him from apparating off as soon as he told them where he was going. I honestly thought he was going to murder Malfoy when he came in.”

Y/n’s face betrayed that she was still not convinced. George pressed on.

“He broke it off with you to protect you, despite my saying it was a dreadful idea might I add. It nearly killed him to do it. He was a wreck while you were gone. He honestly thought you’d be safer if you were in hiding and not associating with blood traitors.”

Y/n sat back for a moment. It explained his reaction to finding her on the floor. Him coming to get her. How he had sent her away. Finding out it was only to protect her made her chest ache. It started a whole new wave of tears. All the nights missing him. Moving around listlessly around the countryside. It could all have been avoided.

She shook her head through the sobs, “He’s so dumb.”

“I told him that as well. Although it’s not his fault I got both the brains and the looks.”

Y/n laughed shakily.

“I guess I should probably go find him and straighten everything out.”

“Please do. He’s been moping around the cottage since we got here, and Fleur will probably hex him if he doesn’t stop being grouchy.”

“Alright then. Let’s go find him. Can you help me up?” She stretched out a hand to him.

“As long as we go slow and Fleur doesn’t catch us, absolutely.”

_____________________________________________________________

After spending a long time carefully making their way down the stairs and out the front door, George began leading Y/n down the beach. He had had to hold onto her tightly, as her unsteady legs coupled with the strong wind and dips of the sand had her stumbling often.

“You sure you don’t just want to wait for him to get back? It’s going to be a hell of a lot easier for you. I didn’t realise how unsteady you’d be, it’s probably not even good for you to be out here.” He looked back to the cottage.

“George, I need to see him. If you don’t want to come that’s fine, but I’m going to keep going.”

He sighed. “Bloody stubborn you are. Alright, we’ll keep going. But I mean it, if we run into Fleur, you forced me against my will to bring you out here.”

They kept walking across the sand for another twenty minutes until she saw him in the distance.

“Found him.” George looked up from his careful watch for possible trip hazards to see his brother, sitting on an aged fallen tree trunk, overlooking the bay.

Y/n had a sharp intake of breath.

“Do you still want to do this? If it’s too much we can go back.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Alright then. Fred!”

Fred turned to see them both. Although he was far away, Y/n could see his face turn to a frown. Fred got up off the petrified wood and started walking towards them. Y/n’s chest ached again as she thought of being in his arms.

“We couldn’t have just walked to him?”

“You already are looking white as a sheet, I don’t need you collapsing on me where I can’t get you into the house easily.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I’m not going to…”

The sound of sand crunching caused them to turn back to see Fred in front of them. His face was cold and he snarked at George.

“What are you playing at, bringing her out here? She needs rest, not another bloody collapse. Take her inside, now.”

He sounded so harsh, Y/n began to doubt if George was actually telling the truth. He hadn’t even looked at her. In fact, he was keeping his eyes directly on his twin, not even giving her a glance. Her fears were assuaged. If he didn’t care, he would have had the decency to look at her. Despite the cool of the wind, she felt her cheeks begin to flush in anger.

“Y/n wanted to come and speak to you. I was merely making sure she didn’t crawl her way across the sand. But now that you’re here, I don’t need to do that anymore.” He smiled and let go of her arm.

“I’ll be inside if you need me.” He began walking off back to the cottage, leaving the pair alone together on the beach.

“George!” Fred tried to call after his brother, but he didn’t listen. Fred turned to Y/n.

“You need to get inside, there’s a storm moving in. You can berate me as we walk.”

He walked a few steps in front of her, but stopped when he realised she wasn’t following. He turned to face her.

Y/n exploded as he finally looked at her. Anger and pain from all the nights spent alone burned in her in full force.

“Months! Months I have spent away from you, all this time, and all you can do is lecture me about not staying in bed. REALLY? I am so angry with you!”

Fred looked back at her, seemingly dumbfounded.

“So many nights wondering what the hell I did wrong, and all I get is a scolding. I traveled all around Britain trying to forget what you had done to me, what you had made me feel, and all I get is a “you can berate me as we walk”’?" She made imaginary quotation marks with her fingers.

"I will bloody well berate you wherever I want Fred Weasley. How dare you act as though this means nothing? I…"

Y/n went to take a step forward and lost her footing. Before she could hit the sand however, he caught her and pulled her upright. Fred had seemed to find his tongue again.

"IT’S BECAUSE IT MEANS EVERYTHING! That’s why I need to make sure you are getting inside and better!"

He was growing angry as well.

"I condemned you to torture just by being with you! You have been tortured because I did not protect you! That was my job, to protect you! AND I FAILED. I made a call and it was wrong, so don’t expect me to not try and make up for everything I have done to you, because I won’t. I am going to spend every minute of the rest of my life regretting that stupid decision, so forgive me if that guilt involves me making sure you are safe."

His chest was heaving. He dropped her wrist from where he had been holding it as his body almost began to curve in on itself.

Y/n reached up and cupped his cheek. His confession had made her begin to cry again. She took a deep breath and willed herself to keep a steady voice.

"It is not your fault." He would not meet her eyes.

"Look at me," she all but whispered to him, "Please,"

He looked back up to her.

"It is not your fault. None of this is your fault. I can’t say that making me leave was the best decision, but you cannot take this onto your shoulders. You did what you thought was best and tried to protect me as much as you could. I don’t agree with it, but I can’t allow you to take blame like that. Okay? You are not at fault for this."

All that was keeping himself up seemed to disappear as he almost collapsed and bought his arms around her, bringing her tightly into his chest. She was openly crying into his shirt, small sobs wracking her body as all the emotional pain she had felt from the last two months drained out of her.

"I’m so sorry."

She nodded her acknowledgment into his chest. They stood there, arms wrapped around the other, almost clinging for dear life. Small taps of cold began to fall onto her scalp. She pulled back slightly and looked up.

It had begun to rain.

"I need to get you back inside. I like my Y/n at room temperature, not as a popsicle."

She nodded and started trying to walk back, but her knee gave way as she took the first step. Fred caught her again.

"Remind me to kill George for letting you out here like this. Come on, I’ll carry you."

Before she could protest, he had swept her up into his arms, and was walking back to the cottage. She didn’t have the energy to fight herself and ended up leaning into him as he walked. Her heart swooped when she thought back to what he said, “My Y/n.”. Was he just saying that though or were they back together? She needed to know before she got her heart broken again.

They were nearly at the cottage. She wanted to ask him this out here before they got inside. That way she would have time to compose herself before she saw the others.

“Fred, can you put me down?” She had to talk loudly over the rain.

“We are nearly there, just hold on.”

“No, I need to say something now.” She wriggled in his grasp, and managed to slip down to the sand, landing softly as he tried to catch her.

“Y/n we need to get inside, you’re going to catch your death out here!”

“Just wait!” she turned to face him. Her voice was getting louder over the rain,

“George told me something and I need to know if it’s true. Do you love me or is it over? If you don’t have feelings for me anymore that’s fine, I just need to know. Please Fred.”

He shook his head in annoyance and shouted as lightning crackled across the sky.

“Dammit woman, I never stopped! I thought that was obvious!”

“So you still…”

“Of course I still love you!”

She reached up and crashed his lips down to hers. He immediately reciprocated. His arms circled around her and up into her hair once more, pulling her deeper into the kiss. She was soaked from the rain and unsteady as the wind felt like it was blowing through her, but it didn’t matter because he was clinging to her like she was a lifeline.

After a minute, he pulled back and picked her up again, without giving her time to say anything. He paced to the cottage's door and turned the handle, carefully carrying her inside.

As they entered, Fleur’s shrill voice began echoing around the cottage, but it didn’t matter. She looked up to see Fred smiling down at her. All was right in her world again.

[noctilucid]

DannyMay Day 15: Nature

**References my Day 4 (Stars) drabble, but stands alone.**

"Circle up everybody!" Ms. Teslaff barked, rapping her walking stick on a boulder embedded in the trail.  "This camping trip is required by the state to be educational.  Therefore, you will be given a group assignment designed to meet municipal standards."  Mr. Lancer opened his messenger bag and started passing around packets and paper bags.  A ripple of complaints and muttered curses spread out through the group.  "You will be assigned a partner, and together you will search for and identify these plants.  Bring back a leaf for each plant in the packet to receive full credit."  

Paulina grimaced and looked down at her shoes for the tenth time that day.  She had thought they'd stay close to the cabins for this trip, and her usual cute flats would have served her just fine on the broad, packed paths cut by hundreds of students' feet in the years before.  But here she was, hiking in them.  The mud was bad enough, but all the uneven terrain was putting creases in the material every time she had to put her weight on the balls of her feet.  And now she was expected to go on a scavenger hunt?  What was she, five?  

"Paulina," Mr. Lancer said with a tired drawl as he read the names written on the brown paper bag on the top of his stack, "you will be partnered with Sam Manson."  He handed her the bag and a packet before moving on to the next group.  

Uhg, perfecto.  I'm with Creepy Manson.  They did this on purpose, didn't they?  Paulina cut her eyes at Sam as she stomped over in her combat boots, looking equally thrilled.  

"How many plants do we have to find?" Sam sighed, taking the packet from her.  She flipped through the pages.  "Well, at least these are all pretty distinctive."  

"I'm sure you're disappointed none of them can lay eggs in my face," Paulina returned with an edge.  She still hadn't forgiven Sam for that incident at the aquarium all those years ago.  

Sam narrowed her eyes, not looking up from the paper.  "Spores."

"What?"

"Plants don't lay eggs.  Some of them have spores."  She folded back a few pages and held up a picture of a fern they were supposed to locate.  "This one can lay spores in your face."  

Paulina raised her hand and waved at the teachers.  "Miss Teslaff, I want a different partner!  I don't want Sam to murder me and bury my body in the woods.  I'm too pretty to die."  

"No changing groups!"  

Paulina huffed and crossed her arms.  "Tough break," Dash said to her as he and Valarie headed off on one of the forks in the path.  

"Good luck!" Kwan chimed in, who was paired with Tucker.  "Hey, you got a plant identifying app on that thing…?"

"Do I ever!"  

Danny put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder as he followed Mikey uphill.  "Try not to be too hard on her?"  

"No promises," Sam grumbled.  

Soon the path had cleared out except for the two of them and two pairs of band nerds peering over their packets together.  

"Come on, let's get this over with," Sam said at length, grabbing Paulina by the wrist and hauling her off in a random direction.  

"Ow!  Hey, get off of me!"  

Sam did let go, and then scuffled up a tumble of boulders to a trail on higher ground.  Paulina let out a dramatic and frustrated groan before following her up much more slowly.  By the time she caught back up, Sam was standing in the shade of a tree growing out of a split in the rock, studying the packet again.  

"Oriental Thuja?" she said, forehead creased.  "Why would they even put that on here?  It's not native to this area."  

"So we won't be able to find it?" How much is this stupid assignment worth anyway?

"No, it could be here, but it's invasive."

Paulina rolled her eyes.  "Don't tell me you're going to be sacrimonious about plants now too."  

"Oh, of course," Sam returned.  "Because you only like nature if it's pretty and flatters you.  You can't be bothered to learn about something complicated like an ecosystem."  She headed down the trail at a brisk walk, grabbing a sapling and using it as a hand-hold as she swung herself down another steep portion.  

"Would you stop doing that?" Paulina yelled after her, but Sam didn't slow down.  "¡Joder!" she swore under her breath.  Somehow, she was going to make Sam regret this by the end of the day.  She just had to figure out how.  

***

A brooding 45 minutes later, and Sam had found five of the plants they were looking for with little help from Paulina.  

"Next is the purple coned larch…" Sam said, more to the paper held in front of her face than to Paulina.  "We should probably go uphill to look for it…"  Paulina died a little more inside.  No more climbing hills!

"Oh, is that one of the ones that's going to lay spores in my face?" Paulina sniped as Sam strode on ahead for the hundredth time.  "I guess you would end up with some weird kinks after being possessed by an ugly plant ghost."  

"You're the one who brought up the face eggs," Sam said, nonchalant, and notably not slowing down.  "I think that says more about you than about me."  

Paulina clenched her fists.  "Ugh!  You're such a freak, you know that?"

"Aaaand personal attacks mean you have no convincing arguments left in your arsenal!  Looks like it's Sam two, Paulina zero for the day so far."  Sam was steadily moving out of range, and Paulina was forced to follow if she wanted to continue the argument.  She was busy trying to think of a better jab while watching where she put her feet, but Sam beat her to the punch.  "It's kind of sad that you're still hung up on this actually.  Move on already."

Paulina gritted her teeth as the angle of the slope forced her to grab a muddy point of rock to haul herself up with.  "Would it kill you to apologize?  ¡Dios mío!”

"For what?"

"For harassing me with a starfish, Miss Don't-Be-Cruel-To-Animals!"  She stood up and tried to wipe her hand clean on a tree trunk.  "And I mean a real apology, not that stupid letter the teacher made you write."  

"Oh, yeah, to be clear, I didn't mean that apology letter."  

"It was clear," Paulina said, quiet and venomous.    

"I hope you shredded it or something.  I'm kind of embarrassed to have my name on the bottom of it."  

"I threw it in the fireplace as soon as I got home that day."  

"Well, that's a relief," Sam said with a performative grin.  "And no, after what you did to Danny, you'd better believe I'd eat a hot dog before I'd apologize to you."  

"I only went out with Danny to get under your skin!"

"Exactly."

Paulina's hands spasmed between gestures as she tried to collect herself.  "Did you ever think that maybe, if you weren't such a self-absorbed piece of shit, maybe your friends wouldn't get hurt as much?"

Sam's face went blank for a telling second before she focused back on the paper.  Paulina was a little surprised that jab had worked, actually, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  She couldn't think of anything to follow up with, so she decided to allow the silence to be her victory.

And she's back to climbing again.  Someone kill me…

They had almost reached the summit of the hill they were on— Paulina was debating to herself whether it was tall enough to be considered a mountain— when Sam finally found what she was looking for.  The tree she was examining was scrawny and gnarled, squeezing its roots into the veins of available soil, and it was barely taller than they were.  

"I think this is it.  The needles look the same," Sam said, holding up the page for comparison.  "It would help if the picture wasn't in black and white, though."

Paulina cast a glance over the diagram and the plant in front of them.  "No, it doesn't have the little cones," she grumbled.  I swear to god, if we have to climb any higher…

"This one's pretty young.  I don't think it's old enough to have fruited before.  They take a couple of years to get established."  

"Well how can you tell if this is the right one?  There's a thousand different Christmas trees on this hill, and they all look the same."  Paulina shook her head.  "You know, whatever.  Let's just take a branch and go—"  She sputtered to a stop as Sam pushed the packet and paper bag full of samples into her hands.  Paulina adjusted the materials in her hands and watched as Sam stooped down, fished in her combat boot with two fingers, and pulled out something long and thin.  She pulled off the makeshift cap, revealing the stubby tip of a well-used oil pencil.  

Kneeling in front of the tree, Sam drew some intricate shape on the trunk with the dark blue pigment, then murmured something Paulina didn't catch.  In the shadow of the trees branches, Paulina saw the symbol glow faintly green, and the same light snaked up the tree along the ridges in the bark until it reached the closest branch.  With a quiver, the end of the branch put out fresh needles and then a tiny purple cone.  

"See?" Sam said, breaking off the end of the branch.  "Perfect match."

Paulina gaped like a fish. "You— Holy shit, you—"  Magic.  That was honest to god magic!  Paulina felt lightheaded.  She had been… dabbling.  Combing the internet and old bookstores.  At first, she had hoped to find a spell that could summon a ghost, or anything else she could use to get Phantom's attention.  But as the weeks had stretched into months, she had become desperate to find any scrap of genuine magic.  And here it was.  

"Are you— is that Wicca?" she finally managed.

Sam shook her head.  "Semitic Neopaganism.  There's a difference."  

Paulina paused to think on it.  Could I learn Jewish magic if I'm not Jewish?  Would it even work for me?  She chewed on her lip.  What am I saying?  There's no way Manson would teach me anything in the first place.  Then Sam started speaking softly, and Paulina had to shake out of her thoughts to catch it.

"I did think about apologizing," Sam said.  "Properly.  I was… kind of a mess in fifth grade.  Um.  And sixth and seventh too, actually."  Her eyes remained focused on the pine sprig in her hand as she spoke, slowly rotating it between her fingers.  "I've never liked you.  But that didn't make it right for me to pick on you."  She stood up and took back their paper bag, tucking the sample inside.  "But then you pulled Danny into it.  So, I'll never apologize."  She finally looked up and met Paulina's gaze.  "And neither will you."  Paulina opened her mouth to retort, only to realize that Sam was an image of perfect calm.  It was not an accusation, not a barb, just a statement.  And Paulina had no idea how to respond.  "We're both petty bitches," Sam continued. "It's in our natures.  So… let's just move on."  She extended a hand to Paulina.  "Deal?"  

The offered hand was stiff and formal, as if this were a business meeting rather than two sweaty girls talking on a hiking trail, but Paulina saw an earnestness in it.  Slowly, she reached out and slid her own palm into Sam's.  

"Deal."  She watched Sam for a moment, her unwavering gaze, the ridiculous purple contacts, the stillness which had come over her, like a stone come to rest.  Not sophisticated or refined, as Paulina sought to be, but… very Sam.  Very self-assured, in a way Paulina pretended not to admire.  "We don't like each other."

"Naturally."  Sam released her hand and turned to head back down the slope.  

"But we… don't hate each other either.  We just... are.  Now."  

Paulina saw the little quirk of a smile enter Sam's lips.  "Yeah."  

"And maybe… we can talk about magic sometimes?"  She shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "Like, over text, so nobody gets the wrong idea?"

Sam chuckled.  "Yeah.  That sounds fun."  

A smile crept over Paulina's face in spite of her attempt to hide it.  Oh, what does it matter?  Sam's not looking at me anyway.  She gave herself a moment to squeal silently in her head.  Real magic!  She'd found someone who knew real magic!  She shook her head again.  Of course it would be Manson.  Of course.  

She picked up her pace, in spite of her sore feet, in spite of the damage she was doing to her shoes, to catch up to Sam.  It was easier going downhill.  "What do we still have to find?"  

Sam extended the packet to her, pointing to one of the plants.  "Just two left, lady fern and honeysuckle.  They both like to grow near water, so I saved them for last.  We can head down and check the creek on our way back."  Oh thank god, we're almost done.  Paulina leaned in to get a better look at the fern diagram.  "You know, there's a spell I've been working on that uses ferns.  Maybe we should grab a couple extra?"  

Paulina squealed out loud this time, and clapped a hand over her mouth.  "Sorry," she mumbled through her fingers.  "Solemn.  Solemn goth witch."  She folded her hands in front of her and tried to look composed.  Sam laughed.  

"Nah, you don't have the wardrobe for that.  Go on, be as pink as you'd like."  She stepped down a bank of tree roots and held a branch back for Paulina to follow in her wake.  Paulina paused in surprise before accepting the gesture.

This will take some getting used to.  

[thebakingqueen5]

KW 2021: Height Difference

Day 1 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Height Difference!

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 1: Height Difference. It’s his 14th birthday and Aang is feeling frustrated. Katara wants to help and Aang confides in her about some of his insecurities.

Word Count: 2.2K

After a long day of festivities, night had finally fallen across the Fire Nation palace, and Aang and Katara were ready to head to bed and get some well-earned rest.

The couple had just finished up at the banquet and silently walked through the dimly lit halls to Aang’s room so as to not alert Katara’s overprotective brother. Though they had merely been cuddling the last few nights before sleeping, Sokka would surely throw a fit if he knew that they were sharing a room at all, hence a bit of secrecy was needed.

At last, they arrived- the third door on the right in the central wing of the palace had been designated the Avatar’s quarters since as early as Kyoshi’s time. It was a fair distance away from the rest of the bedrooms in the west wing, and it also had far more extravagant commodities with its own mini-courtyard and balcony, giving the pair plenty of space to get away from the rest of the world and simply enjoy being with each other.

“Today was fun,” Katara sighed as they finally entered the room, taking off her shoes at the entrance and immediately going towards the inviting bed.

She let herself fall onto the soft mattress, groaning softly as her limbs were finally able to relax after a long day of dancing, cooking, and celebrating for the airbender’s 14th birthday, while Aang gently closed the door with a soft thump.

“Yeah,” Aang chuckled as he joined her on the bed. He pulled some of the thin cotton sheets over them and then curled up next to her on his side.“It sure was... something.”

The waterbender shifted slightly to allow her boyfriend to rest his head in the crook of her neck and absentmindedly traced the outline of the blue arrow on his head while he closed his eyes in contentment.

“Something?” she questioned. Katara furrowed her eyebrows, her movements faltering. “Did you not have fun, Aang?”

The airbender winced when he heard the twinge of hurt in Katara’s voice. She hadn’t been trying to make it sound that way, but she had been planning the event for weeks and naturally was a little offended by the implication of his words.

“Oh. No, sweetie, I didn’t mean it that way. The party was amazing! The food, the drinks, the music, everything was spectacular. You did an amazing job, and it means a lot to me that you care so much.”

Katara let out a quiet breath of relief, resuming her gentle touches to his tattoos.

“Of course I care, sweetie. You’re my boyfriend, and I love you. That’s why if you didn’t like it, I won’t be mad, really.”

Aang tilted his head up and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “That wasn’t it, I promise. I just… I had  a bit on my mind today.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked him tenderly.

He sighed and buried his face in her neck. “I guess... it would be nice to get it off my chest. It’s not like anyone else would get it anyways.”

The waterbender gave him a curious look, silently encouraging him to continue.

“It’s so stupid, but I heard some nobles talking when I stepped away to get us some water. They just kept going on and on about how much of a child I was and how I’m too young and too scrawny and too short for you, and, well, they’re right!”

He turned his body away from her now frowning face and pulled the blankets snug around his body like a protective cocoon.

“You’re almost 16, Tara,” Aang murmured. “A young woman in every sense of the word. Spirits, you’re of marrying age in a month! Me? I’m just a loser kid you found washed up in an iceberg. How could I ever be deserving of you?”

“Oh, Aang…”

She shifted onto her side as well and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back and listening to the rhythm of his breathing.

“Those nobles are utterly ridiculous. First of all, it’s only two years! What difference does two years make in the long run? It doesn’t, that’s what. My parents were four years apart and were the happiest two people in the world! A gap of two years is insignificant,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Second of all, sure we’re young, but considering that we saved the world even younger, I think it’s safe to say we’ve matured beyond our years. We’re certainly old enough to know we love each other, and that’s all that matters.”

“Doesn’t change the other part though,” Aang muttered in response. “Spirits, I’m 14 and barely the same height as you. A little shorter if we’re being honest. It’s so annoying! Why can’t I just grow up already?”

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t mean for this to come off the wrong way, but why do you care about that? What difference does it make?”

The airbender remained silent for a few moments and pondered her question, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“The monks had always taught me to judge people based on the content of their character, not their exterior, and to draw satisfaction from being self-assured, rather than care about what other people thought. And in most cases I feel like I do that pretty well, but…”

“But?”

A subtle pink tinted Aang’s cheeks and he took her hands in his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

“You’re different, Katara. You’re the one I love more than anything, the one I would do anything for, the one whose opinions, thoughts, and feelings mean the world to me. You’re the most amazing person on the planet, and you deserve someone worthy of you. Look at Haru and Jet! They were both older and taller and so even something as small as noticing the height difference when we’re dancing kinda hurts. It just feels like I’m the odd one out. I know that’s silly but-”

The waterbender cut him off and shook her head.

“It’s not silly, Aang. Believe me, I’ve felt the same way more times than I’d care to admit. But, in the end, none of that matters. I love you. I chose you . You’re not just my boyfriend, you’re my best friend."

He turned back around to face her and swept her up in an embrace, mind immediately put at ease by her words.

“Plus,” she continued, “So what if you’re a little shorter than me now? You’ll grow in no time. Quite frankly, I’ll miss being taller than you when you do.”

The airbender quirked an eyebrow. “You’ll miss it?”

Katara chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead, right at the tip of his arrow.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “I will. Being able to do that, not having to look up or go on my toes trying to kiss you, I won’t be able to do all that forever. Things like kisses, hugs, they’re a lot more… accessible with our current heights.”

“Hmm,” Aang hummed. “I guess I never really thought of it like that. I still want to grow taller of course, but when you put it like that, I might miss this a little bit too.”

“Let’s not get too carried away with the future, okay?” Katara laughed. “We have our whole lives ahead of us, let’s just stay in the present- the present where I love you, and you love me, and nothing else matters.”

The airbender grinned with her, pressing his forehead gently to hers.

“I like the sound of that. Thank you, sweetie. For listening, for the reassurance, just everything. It means a lot.”

“Of course, sweetie. I’m always here.”

Katara pressed a sweet kiss to his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck as Aang returned it, pulling her closer to him. They broke apart after a few seconds and grinned like idiots at one another. There was silence, but it was comfortable. The two didn’t need words, they were just enjoying being with each other.

“It’s getting late,” the waterbender murmured after some time. “We should probably go to bed.”

“Probably,” Aang whispered back, unable to take his eyes off the angel in front of him. With a flick of his wrist, he put out the candles that had been lighting up the room and settled into his pillow as Katara drew closer to him and interlocked their fingers.

“Good night, Aang. Love you,” she said, beginning to drift off to the dream realm.

“Love you too, Tara,” the airbender yawned. “Sweet dreams.”

One year later…

“Happy birthday!” the room chorused as Aang blew out all his 15 candles.

The airbender grinned and began to cut the apple cake- an ancient recipe of the Air Nomads recreated by some of the top chefs in the Fire Nation as a gift from Zuko.

“Thanks guys!” Aang laughed. “Man, it’s crazy to think that the war has been over for a little more than two years now.”

Katara smiled and leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“We’ve all done a lot of growing up. We’re older, more mature-” she gave Aang a quick look from head to toe. “ Taller .”

He chuckled, pulling her close to him and peppering kisses all over the top of her head. She was right, of course- as if triggered by their conversation that night, Aang had grown rapidly over the next year. A month later he was the same height as her, two months following he was comfortably able to rest his arm on her shoulder, and now, a year later, he towered above her with her eyebrows barely at his chin.

“Ugh,” Sokka groaned. “Give it a rest you two. The oogies are out of control! Spirits, you act like a newly wedded couple still in the honeymoon stage half the time.”

“Oh, leave them alone, Sokka,” Suki chided. “It’s his birthday! Let’s give the lovebirds some alone time. They’re just kids, they’re nowhere near that yet.”

“Yeah, haha, absolutely not,” Aang nervously laughed as the other couple exited the room. The stone pendant in his pocket began to feel like poisonous lead weighing down his vision for the hopefully not-so-distant future.

“You never know,”  the airbender heard Katara mumble, so quiet he wasn’t even sure she had actually said it. “Sometimes things will come when you least expect it.”

He stood there blankly for a moment, brain struggling to process her words and had just opened his mouth to ask her what she meant (she couldn’t possibly be talking about what he thought she was… right?) when she decided to speak up instead.

“I can’t believe you were ever nervous about staying short, sweetie,” Katara quipped, her eyebrows raised teasingly.

Aang merely blinked at the subject change, promptly concluding that the last thirty seconds were simply a figment of his imagination, and sheepishly scratched the back of his head in response to her comment.

“I guess it was kinda silly, huh,” he laughed. “Look at us now.”

The waterbender pouted, going up on the balls of her feet and craning her neck to gaze up at him. “You’re too tall for your own good. I miss when you were shorter and I didn’t have to tilt my head every time just to look at you.”

“Oh c’mon, it has its benefits.”

He gave her a quick look to warn her for what he was about to do, and with one swift motion, Katara was suddenly off the ground and in Aang’s arms bridal-style, her arms around his neck and their gazes interlocked.

The airbender touched their foreheads together and gave her a cheesy grin.

“I couldn’t do this before, now could I?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at her.

“No,” Katara smiled, her head tilted as she looked at him endearingly, “I suppose you couldn’t. And I certainly won’t be one to complain about you holding me more often.”

Aang laughed and carefully set her back down, hearing the growing volume of the room next to them. He quickly grabbed the two full glasses on the table and handed one to the waterbender.

“Here’s to hoping you’re the one who grows by next year so my neck isn’t always sore from looking down at you,” he said as he held his drink up.

Katara gave him a dry stare before rolling her eyes and smiling.

“Cheers.”

The two clinked their glasses and turned to face the door behind which the rest of their friends had already begun to celebrate.

“Shall we?” Aang asked as he held out his arm to her.

“We shall,” Katara responded, accepting it. “Happy birthday, Aang.”

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Kinks

The Devil Wears Nada

Summary: Steve’s fed up of getting cock blocked during what was supposed to be bit of alone time and would make a deal with the Devil herself to get some alone time with his wife… Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT- (NSFW, 18+) Like seriously, if you’re under 18 get off my blog.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: This is possibly the filthiest thing I’ve ever written...and I’m not even sorry. It follows on directly from Bumps In The Night which was written by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ as part of Stark Spangled Banner’s Birthday Party. Give it a read, its wonderful!

SSK Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

 Katie and Steve headed back inside, Katie diverting into the lounge to go and retrieve the candy off the kids before they ate too much of it in one sitting. Steve had to snort at the various cries of protests that rang round the lounge and his wife’s stern voice telling the three children in there that she didn’t care if it was Saturday, they weren’t consuming enough E-numbers to fuel an army before bed. He made his way into the kitchen and was completely unsurprised to find Bucky already had his head buried in the fridge.

“Make yourself at home.” He deadpanned and Bucky looked at him, thrusting a beer in his direction. “Gee thanks.” Steve’s dry sarcasm still present as he looked at his friend who was offering him his own fucking beer. Bucky grinned and shrugged as he passed one to Sam as well as he strode into the room, the three men popping the tops. Steve took a long pull from his as he eyed Bucky “Why are you here?”

“Rude much?” Bucky asked, his eyes still checking out the contents of the refrigerator. “We were concerned uncles…you weren’t with the kids.” “They were with Emmy and Queens” Steve arched an eyebrow “Perfectly safe.”

“They showed up on Tin Man’s doorstep.” Sam grinned “We were halfway through studying a couple of files and they basically swamped us and said it was their last stop of the night. Bucky thought it would be fun to come back with them.”

“To bug the crap out of me or…”

“I wanted candy.” Buck shrugged.

“Then you should have gone Trick Or Treating.” Steve replied “And let’s face it, with a face like that, who needs a mask?”

“Ouch, Stevie…” Bucky looked at him as Sam chuckled in the background, before he turned his attention back to the fridge “Oooh, your Missus made a cheeseboard.”

“What are you a fuckin’ mouse?” Sam asked as Bucky pulled out the platter, setting it on the side.

“Just ‘cause I appreciate the good things in life, Seagull and you can’t.” Bucky shrugged, unwrapping the film from the cheese. “You know, Steve was just like this growing up.”

“Yeah, well, now I have better taste and I’m also big enough to kick your ass so stop eating my food and go home before I throw you out.”

“What’s got into you?” Bucky looked at him.

“You’re disrupting my plans.” Steve said simply.

“What pl-ooooooh!” Buck’s question morphed into a noise of acknowledgment as he looked at his friend “Then you should have taken advantage of the empty house earlier.”

“School boy error, Cap.” Sam smirked and Steve let out a growl of frustration.

“Well our various attempts to were thwarted one way or another, and now you two punks are ruining it again.” Steve glared at them “Put the cheese back and piss off.”

Bucky smirked. “Imma tell Katie you’re being nasty to me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes knowing full well the soft spot his girl had for Bucky and Sam. If she got so much as a sniff he was being a bit of a shit to either of them he’d be in for it. “You wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t what?”

At the sound of his wife’s voice Steve jumped and turned to see her clutching the huge bowl that had previously contained their candy by the door and now sported the combined content of their kids’ bags, Harry toddling behind her, his eyes fixed on the prize.

“Oh this is gonna be good.” Sam smirked, leaning off to the side unwrapping a Reeses which he pulled out of his pocket, slowly chewing as if watching a movie.

“Hey Doll Face” Bucky grinned at her “Steve won’t let me eat the cheese.”

“Ignore him, you help yourself Buck.” She waved to it as she passed Steve the bowl of candy “Stop being so moody, stick that up high somewhere.”

“You know that won’t stop Jamie, Rori or him don’t you?” Steve looked at her as she picked Harry up who watched shrewdly as his dad placed the bowl on the top shelf of one of the cupboards “All 3 of them had scaled the refrigerator by the time they were 2.”

“No but it might delay them enough for us to catch them.” She shrugged, her eyes moving to Bucky who was eating a block of cheddar like it was an apple “Buck, do you want some crackers or…”

Bucky nodded but Steve cut him off. “No he doesn’t.”

“Yes I do.” Bucky smirked as Katie looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow at his unusually frosty nature towards his friends. She set Harry down on the counter by Bucky who grinned at the toddler, offering him his hand in a hi-five. Harry grinned and slapped his Uncles palm before he looked at the cheese.

“Absolutely not pal.” Steve said to him and Harry looked up.

“Dinosaurs don’t eat cheese.” Bucky shook his head at Harry who stared at him and blinked before he shrugged.

“But I hungry.”

“You can’t possibly be.” Katie looked at her son

“I am Momma.”

“Now look what you’ve done.” Steve glared at Bucky.

“Me?” Bucky scoffed, his mouth full “What did I do?”

“Set him off, look, why don’t you go and eat Jen’s cheese?” Steve asked and at that there was a pause before Sam, Katie and Bucky all burst out laughing. Steve groaned “Ok, that came out wrong.”

Sam snorted “that’s what she said.”

Katie laughed harder and Bucky grinned, swallowing his mouthful as Katie headed into the pantry. “Innuendo aside, I can’t. She’s got something going on at the coffee shop. Bunch of teenagers doing Halloween activities or something, I don’t know. She won’t be free until later.” He turned to Katie as she walked back in, handing him the box of crackers and he thanked her “So I thought I’d come see my best friends for a beer seeing as it’s not even half 8 on a Saturday yet.”

Katie smiled at him “You two are always welcome here, you know that. Isn’t that right Steve.”

Steve fixed a smile on his face and glared at Bucky who was positively beaming at the fact he knew he was being a cock-block. “Course it is honey, course.”

“Right my little Jurassic baby…” Katie picked Harry up and he giggled, the hood of his dinosaur costume falling over his eyes. “Bath time.

“No bath Momma” he shook his head furiously, looking up at her as she pushed the clothing back off his head “I have one tomorrow.”

Katie looked at him, “Your face is filthy.”

“Wash my face then.” He looked at her and Katie raised her eyebrows and looked at Steve who chuckled.

“Wanna help me out here daddy?” Katie asked and Steve looked at his son.

“Ok, how about momma washes your face tonight but you’re having a bath first thing in the morning.” Steve looked at Harry as his son considered it for a second. It was late after all. Skipping bath night one evening wouldn’t kill him.

“Deal” Harry nodded, holding his hand out. Steve shook it as Bucky and Sam both gave snorts.

“You need a hand?” Steve asked.

“No, I got it.” Katie shook her head “I’ll get him sorted. You can send Rori and Jamie up in 15 though.”

“Sure.” Steve nodded.

“Say goodnight Harry.” Katie said, turning round so Harry could see Sam and Bucky.

“Goodnight Harry” he grinned, before he cackled at his usual joke. The tot had no idea why it was funny, but when he had first said it, it had cracked both Katie and Steve up so now he seemed to say it every night. Bucky and Sam obligingly laughed as Steve dropped kiss to his son’s head, before pecking Katie’s cheek as she carried him out of the kitchen.

**** Half an hour later, after Rori had done one final parade around the kitchen in her princess cat outfit, beaming when Bucky had declared her the “prettiest kitty cat in all the world” and Steve had once more told her “no, you can’t have a real cat”, all 3 kids were clean and in their rooms. Harry and Rori were both tucked up in bed, lights off, whilst Jamie was watching TV with a warning from Steve that he had 30 minutes before it was time to turn it off. Steve knew Jamie would listen, it was part of the deal that he got to have a little time like that in his room as he was the eldest one now. Jamie took it seriously, knowing full well that abusing said privilege would mean it was revoked just as it had been a few weeks months when he’d been giving Steve some serious back chat and cheek. Steve had sent him to his room and Jamie had simply shrugged responding sarcastically “Fine, I’ll go watch my TV, what a huge punishment.” Steve had seen red and headed straight into the garage before coming back with a pair of pliers. He’d walked straight into Jamie’s room, cut the plug off the TV leaving his son staring at him, open mouthed as he breezed out of the room with a simple “watch it now, smart ass…”

The 4 adults were all sat in the lounge, sprawled across the various sofas with a drink each as the fire roared giving the large living room a cosy, homely feel. Stark was stretched out on the rug in front of the fire, snoring slightly, and the stereo was on playing a little background music whilst the rain pattered against the large ceiling to floor windows. Steve adored this time of year for precisely this reason. Katie snuggled under his arm, her back resting against him as she lay stretched out down the cushions, his arm looped around her crossing her chest. The hand that wasn’t holding her wine was gently rubbing over his forearm, her nails softly skating across the skin. Steve dropped a kiss to her head as they both listened to Sam who was recalling how Bucky had ended up with a load of candy stuck on the hand of his metal arm without realising, which he had then stuck in his hair when he’d run his hand through it.

“He cried like a bitch when I was pulling the gummy bears out.” Sam grinned and Steve tipped his head back, a huge laugh rumbling through his chest as Bucky glared at him.

“Punk.” He looked at Steve who simply smirked and took a drink from his bottle

“You know, I gotta say that these kids take it to the next level nowadays.” Sam swallowed a mouthful of beer. “I mean, some of those costumes are awesome. We saw a really cool Iron Man who had the reactor in his chest all lit up.”

Katie smiled “Yeah, Tony does seem to be a popular choice.”

“We got a Captain America.” Steve offered, not one to be out-done and Katie smirked to herself, “And by that I mean when it was me, or I was it, whatever. He may or may not have gotten extra candy.”

Sam and Bucky chuckled and Katie sipped her wine before she tilted her head back and looked up at Steve.

"At least we got no clowns this year..." Katie smirked and at the mere thought Steve shuddered and Bucky let out a huge snort.

"What...you're scared of clowns?" Sam looked at Steve but before he could answer Bucky jumped in.

"He ain’t just scared man, he's petrified. When we were about 8 and my folks took us to Coney, this guy dressed as a clown tried to give Steve a balloon and he ran away, but the best thing was…” Bucky leaned forward, his words coming between his howls of laughter “this clown kept doing it up until Steve was about 18 because he was so small and looked like a 10 year old.”

“Fuck you.” Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky as he and Sam fell about laughing. Katie kissed his arm and sat up, pointing at Bucky.

“Stop making fun of him…he was cute when he was a smol bean.”

“Thanks sweetheart.” Steve grinned, pressing a kiss to her head. 

“Coulrophobia” Sam nodded sagely, “Quite common actually.”

“I’m not surprised.” Steve shook his head “They’re horrible. I mean, who on earth ever thought they were suitable as entertainment?”

"I dunno, it was kind of entertaining when Jamie dressed up as one.” Katie smiled and Steve physically shivered at the mere memory of that particular Halloween.

“Wait, what?” Bucky asked, looking at Katie and Steve groaned as he steeled himself once more to be the brunt of a joke.

“You seen IT?” Katie asked, “As in the newest one?”

Bucky nodded, grinning “A particular favourite of mine and Jen’s….although last time we watched it we kinda got distracted.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Katie snorted.

“Don’t wanna know,” she shook her head as Sam Hi-fived Bucky “but anyway, we had a Halloween party about 9 years ago at Tony’s. Emmy asked if she could be in charge of hers and Jamie’s outfits so we said yes. Little did we knows she’d had a little help from my dearest brother and just as we were about to set off…” she snorted and started to laugh “they come down the stairs and Jamie’s dressed in the BEST Pennywise outfit I’ve ever seen.”

Bucky’s face split into a huge grin as Katie continued to laugh, shaking her head. “So he’s toddling towards Steve and his face…” she stopped talking, as her laughter was now uncontrollable and she shook her head and Steve sighed.

“It’s not funny.”

“It is.” She stuttered, wiping her eyes. She took a deep breath “You stood there stock still, this look of utter horror on your face and I knew you were fighting the urge to turn and run…”

At that Bucky and Sam both burst out into laughter and Steve shook his head. “He was so upset when I wouldn’t pick him up.”

“You stopped the car at the top of the street because you couldn’t drive as you kept seeing him in the mirror…” Katie howled, tipping her head back in absolute, unadulterated laughter and Steve shook his head.

“You heard Sam, it’s a phobia…” he looked at her “I can’t help it, any more than you can about spiders.”

“Horrible eight legged bastards.” She shuddered as her laughter died down and she glanced up at him winking, as her voice dropped. “But you know the way to my heart…”

“Kiss you often, fuck you well, feed you snacks and kill the spiders.” he intoned, grinning as she chuckled “I know Doll, I know.”

**** Despite his best laid plans going to shit, Steve had to admit it was a nice evening as all 4 of them chatted and laughed but by the time Bucky and Sam left some 2 hours later, Katie had already gone up to bed about 15 minutes prior saying she was tired which meant Steve was now very doubtful he’d be fucking her well at all. Cursing Trick Or Treaters, counter surfing dogs, hungry babies and cheese eating, beer drinking friends he cleared the empty bottles off the coffee table and dumped them in the recycling before he let Stark out into the back yard so he could do his business. Steve stood watching him, the cold October air biting at his skin a little as he glanced up at the now clear sky, the rain having stopped roughly half an hour or so ago. He couldn’t believe it was November tomorrow. Another year almost done with. They were flying by, far too quickly for his liking. This year had marked 7 years since they’d reversed the snap and it still seemed like only yesterday since he’d walked away from it all and passed the shield to Sam, settling down into the domestic life he’d never dreamed in a million years he’d get. He was jerked from his thoughts when Stark walked back up to him, nudging his hand with his cold, wet nose and he smiled, petting the dog’s head as he walked past him into the little laundry room and sat obediently waiting for his paws to be dried. Steve shut the door, locking it and then towelled the dog down before the tan and white mutt shot off through the kitchen and into the hall. Steve heard his collar jangling as he bounded up the stairs to Jamie’s room whilst he himself made his way through to the lounge. The fire was still going, but he knew it would die down over night and he was just moving the grate to the front of it to avoid any embers spilling onto the floor when his ears picked up footsteps on the stairs. He instantly knew they were Katie’s and found himself smirking a little. Maybe he was gonna get a little frisky after all. And then he heard her walking across the hall and frowned, because it sounded like she was in heels.

“Honey?” he called, standing up straight and turning to see his wife leaning against the door frame, one arm extended above her head, the other hand falling to her hips as she looked at him, biting her lip. Steve felt his mouth drop open as he took in her appearance. She was indeed wearing heels, a pair of sparkly, high heeled red Jimmy Choos- her “Ruby Slippers” as Rori dubbed them, and his eyes scanned up her bare legs to the hem of the sheer, red negligee which finished mid-thigh. He could see the outline of a pair of matching, red lace panties underneath as he continued to take in her appearance. The top of the garment was low cut, her cleavage amplified somewhat as her breasts swelled over the lace cups and he swallowed as he felt his cock twitch whilst he simply stared at her, slack jawed. Fuck, she was the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his entire life and when she did stuff like this…Jesus.

He glanced at her face, her hair falling over her shoulders in waves and it was then he noticed that on the top of her head sat a pair of fake red horns. Steve’s mouth curled up in sinful grin as Katie gave a dirty giggle, her green eyes sparkling with mischief as Steve strode towards her purposefully, one thing on his mind.

“Read to sell your soul to the Devil, Solider?” she asked and Steve let out a chuckle as he stopped in front of her, his hands gripping her hips

“I sold it to you years ago, Doll.”

She grinned at him as he pulled her closer, his fingers curling against her gentle curves, tangling in the soft material of the negligee as he dropped his head to hers, kissing her deeply. Her hands smoothed over the top of his grey Henley coming to rest on his chest as he curled one arm around her waist, pulling her closer. At the feel of her pressed against him, Steve let out a soft moan

“God I’ve been waiting for this all night” he mumbled and Katie grinned against his lips.

“Well like I tell the kids, a little patience goes a long way Stevie.” she purred and Steve shrugged, his hands dropping to the back of her thighs as he easily lifted her, her heel-clad legs wrapping around his waist.

“And as you know when it comes to you baby girl, I have very little self-control.”

“Don’t I know it, there’s reason we have 4 biological kids.” she pondered for a moment and Steve laughed as her lips met his again and her hands raked into his hair, her nails biting gently against his scalp.

With steady strides, Steve carried her over to the spot in front of the fireplace where he gently set her on her feet and knelt in front of her. The light of the fire cast a bronze glow against her smooth skin and taking his time to simply enjoy the moment, his hands traced up the back of her calves to her thighs, his touch feather light as he reached up to her ass. He gave her flesh a squeeze before pulling her forward a little and her hands reached out to rest on his shoulders for support as he pushed his head under the bottom of the lace garment, nose skimming along the waistband of her panties. He peppered hot, open mouthed kisses across her soft skin, before he dropped his head lower and nudged his nose over her covered mound. She whimpered a little as he brushed her nub and her hips moved forward, seeking him out.

“Now who’s impatient?” He looked up at her and she glanced down, arching an eyebrow.

“It may have escaped your notice…” she took a deep breath “My self-control is also pretty non-existent around you too.”

“Well, I’m not one to keep a lady waiting” Steve smirked and in a swift movement he hooked an arm round her waist causing her to shriek a little before she laughed as he deposited her gently on the rug, caging her with his arms. He glanced down at her, brunette waves fanning out over the light grey and black of the soft tuft wool and leaned down, his nose nudging against hers.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” she frowned a little, as Steve brushed his lips over hers.

“Good, now remember that. Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Katie barely had time to register what he said before he’d moved down her body, hands skating up the outside of her thighs where his fingers bunched in her panties. With a sharp tug he’d snapped the elastic and tossed them to one side, grabbing her ankles and moving her feet so they were planted on the floor, the heels she was wearing caused her pelvis to raise up off her floor slightly. Without another word he pushed her knees apart and his mouth was on her, and he wasn’t holding back.

Katie’s body jolted as she let out a soft sigh of his name which was laced with satisfaction as he set his mouth to work, devouring her with the enthusiasm of a man starved, which in all fairness he was. He was low key horny around her all the time and he’d been sporting a fucking semi pretty much since the first time they’d been interrupted that evening. Having her so close yet out of reach all night so to speak had driven him wild.

His tongue licked, and lapped, flicked and curled over and over and Katie’s groans and pants grew louder and louder as he worked her into a frenzy. She curled the fingers of one hand into his hair, the other gripping at the rug underneath her as she arched her back even more, pushing herself against his face as her head began to spin. The contrast of his short beard scratching at her sensitive skin to his soft tongue and mouth was sending her entire body into overdrive and Steve could tell. He gently grazed her bud with his teeth, inserting 2 fingers inside her, both actions causing her hips to violently buck, her nails dug further into his scalp and he gave a chuckle which vibrated against her clit causing her to groan loudly.

“Jesus Christ Steve…” she panted, looking down at him. He peeked up from between her legs, a cheeky glint in his eyes which shimmered in the light of the fire, full of a blaze of their own as he continued, his tongue flicking at her entrance, before he sucked on her bud and then she was gone. Her legs trembled as her hand pulled his hair, almost to the point it was painful as she gave a loud cry, her other hand reaching to his head as she used both to push him away from her sensitive sex. He moved his head back but his fingers stayed exactly where they were, curling against the soft sponge of her walls as she clamped down around them, giving a little groan as she did, her legs flopping down flat on the floor. With a smug sense of satisfaction at having undone her to the extent he had, Steve pushed himself up, wiping his wet face with the back of his forearm and crawled over her, cupping her cheeks, kissing her again, his tongue tangling against hers. Katie moaned wantonly into his mouth as she could taste her arousal as his mouth dominated hers before he pulled back, his thumb and forefinger gently gripping her chin making her eyes open and lock onto his.

“On your knees sweetheart.” His tone was low as he used his Captain’s voice to issue the instruction, telling her not to argue. Not that she would, as mouthy and stubborn as she was this was the one area of their relationship in which she was always willing to surrender to him completely. With a graceful movement she pulled her legs back towards her and turned her body, rising to her knees, palms planted on the floor.

Steve pushed the waistband of his sweats and boxers down before he moved his hands to her hips, pulling her back with a swift action, placing one palm on the base of her back. With the other he took his throbbing cock in his hand, gave himself a few quick strokes before he lined himself up. With a snap of his hips he buried himself in her heat, balls deep, jolting her forward. The rumble from his throat slipped out of his mouth at the relief of finally being inside her, drowning her cries out.

His pace was relentless from the outset, just as it had been when he’d worked her with his mouth and his hands gripped her waist tightly as he drove in and out of her over and over, in fast, deep movements, pulling her back onto him with each thrust he made. He watched her face as her head fell forward between her arms, her bottom lip clamped between her lip, eyes closed in pleasure, those dirty little noises she made joined the sound of skin slapping skin as he did just as he’d said he was going to do, and fucked her hard.

It was raw, animalistic even, and a far cry from the usual way Steve liked to love on her but hell, it felt just as good to Katie as anything he ever did and after a particularly deep drive she cried out, fisting her hands into the rug, as she felt him bend over her, his large frame crowding hers from behind.

“God you feel so good baby…” he groaned, his chest was pressed to her back, his mouth nipping at that spot on her neck as she felt the heat pooling in her belly again. In an almost automatic movement, her head rolled to the left, allowing him access to her neck where he nipped and sucked at her skin, her gasps growing louder as he continued to thrust. “So fuckin’ good…”

As he spoke, Steve reached up and wrapped one large hand around her neck, tipping her face round to his so he could kiss her. It was all Katie could do to kiss him back, allowing him to control the pace as she was completely gone, the sensations lancing through her body had left her totally pliant to his ministrations.

“Captain…” she panted softly against his mouth as Steve gave an almost pathetic whine at the sound of that name slipping from her throat as he continued to push into her, driving deep before he stilled, his hips flush to her ass. Katie gave a squeak as he rotated his hips, letting go of her neck and pushing himself back up as his hand slid down her body, between her legs drawing a long wail of delight from her mouth as he fondled her bud, “Shit…I’m…Steve I’m gonna...”

“Go on, come for me baby…” he hissed, his jaw clenched, the sweat beading on his brow as he rutted forward again, once more grinding against her “Give it to me, let go…”

With a last, loud, filthy lament she came, hard, her knees almost buckling, but Steve’s arm quickly looped around her waist holding her up as she blissed out completely, the entire world fading around her as she felt nothing but the familiar hot, warm pleasure as her abdomen contracted and relaxed as her walls spasmed around him over and over.

“Good girl.” he praised as he continued thrusting through, the heat in his own belly now beginning to spike even more, “Such a good girl for me.” Katie preened at his praise, relaxing slightly as he bent over and kissed her neck once more, picking up the pace slightly. And then, she pushed back suddenly catching Steve off guard, sending him sprawling onto his back. She went with him, his cock still stuffed inside her, her back sliding on his chest as he continued to fuck up into her, his knees bent, feet flat on the floor. Katie’s head fell back against his shoulder, her face tilting to kiss his as she lay on him, legs spread, feet planted either side of his hips. His hand crept over her stomach, dipping into her folds as his fingers and palm furiously toyed and played with her, brushing against his shaft as he rocked in and out of his wife.

“Steve…” she whined “I can’t…it’s too much…” “You got one more in you.” he all but growled, “I know you do. And I’m taking it, whether you want me to or not.”

True to his word he continued his unyielding assault on her senses and before long her breathing had risen and his name was slipping from Katie’s lips in that familiar staccato pant. She gave in, and this time the climax almost feeble but still just as pleasurable as she fluttered around him. At the feel of her round him, and the sound of the exhausted, sultry groan she let out into his hear Steve was done for, and with a final, violent buck upwards he came, biting down gently on her shoulder, muffling the noises of satisfaction and pleasure that rolled from the back of his throat.

The pair of them lay still, chests heaving  and Katie licked her lips, eyes closed as she waited for her body to gain some form of control over itself. After a little while, she felt Steve’s hands gently slid up her side to the outside of her arms, giving a gentle rub as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“You ok?” he asked.

Katie hummed a little and grinned, tipping her face round to look at him “I’ll say…that was…”

“Yeah…” Steve nodded, the pair of them chuckling. “It was worth the wait.”

Katie’s head lolled back against his shoulder and she closed her eyes again. Not wanting to move just yet, the feeling of her lay over the top of him whilst he was still buried inside her was too nice, Steve wrapped his arms around her front as he shifted slightly so he could press a kiss to her lips. She wiggled her hips a little and he gave a low grunt at the sensation and he looked at her as she arched an eyebrow.

“You want more?” he asked, his voice low and she fixed him with a look that was half suggestive, half apprehension as to whether she could actually take anymore. Steve grinned and pressed his lips back to hers, the kiss deepening as he felt himself starting to grow hard inside her again, and just as he had pushed her up into a sitting position, backwards on his lap, the security system sounded and the front door clicked open.

Katie’s head turned back to look at him over her shoulder, both faces sporting expressions of utter horror as Emmy and Peter’s voices drifted up the hall.

“Shit…” Katie jumped up, glancing down at herself as Steve scrambled to his feet, tucking himself into his pants, hastily yanking at the crotch in an attempt to make them a little less snug, so to speak.

“Give me your shirt…” Katie hissed and he reached over, grabbing a fistful of it in his hand. Yanking it over his head he tossed it to her and she shoved it on over her skimpy little outfit, before she kicked off her heels, and she’d just smoothed her hair down when the door to the lounge opened. Emmy and Peter stopped dead. Peter hastily turned away as Emmy’s eyes roved over Steve’s shirtless form, then to Katie who was stood in his Henley which thankfully was big enough to cover her body down to the middle of her thighs, hiding the red lace garment underneath. Whilst they might have hidden their modesty for the most part, there was no hiding the fact both of their faces were flushed with exhaustion and sexual gratification…nor was there any disguising the fact Katie was stood with her legs crossed in a desperate attempt to stop Steve’s release from dribbling down her leg. And then just to make it even more obvious, Katie’s shredded red lace panties were dumped in the middle of the floor right by her discarded heels…

“Jesus Christ…” Emmy mumbled, backing out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Katie and Steve glanced at one another, and Katie burst out laughing at the look of utter horror on Steve’s face.

“Cheer up Steve…” she patted his chest “Could have been worse.”

“Seriously?”  he blinked “What could be worse than basically being caught in flagrante by our daughter and that boy?”

“Ok, first off, his name is Pete…and actually I can think of a few things.” Katie shrugged, bending down to pick up her shoes and her destroyed underwear “Had she come in like 2 minutes earlier she’d have caught us in a much more compromising position…or even worse than that, we could have walked in on her.”

“Doll, just don’t!” Steve held his hand up, giving a groan.

Katie laughed and made her way to the door. “I’m going upstairs to clean up and get in bed, can you bring me a bottle of water up please?”

Steve sighed and nodded, watching her go. Taking a deep breath he wandered into the kitchen were Emmy was stood scowling, leaning against the kitchen counter as she glared as his topless form, Pete hastily averting his eyes.

“You two are disgusting.” Emmy shook her head “It’s bad enough hearing you in your bedroom but…fucking hell Dad!”

“Watch your mouth Emily.” Steve said sternly as he felt the heat rising in his neck. He made his way to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water before he straightened up. “We weren’t expecting you back so early.”

“Clearly.” Emmy arched an eyebrow.

“You know what?” Steve’s temper flared a little “This is mine and your Ma’s house, and well, frankly, we’ll do what we want, where we want.”

At that Peter gave a little cough and pushed himself up off the counter, “I’m gonna…yeah…” he said, pointing to the utility room door “I’ll be in the cabin Em.”

Neither Steve nor Emmy paid him any attention as he scuttled off, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Dad!” Emmy spluttered, her face in her hand as she shook her head “That was so embarrassing!”

“Well it wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs for us either you know Em!” Steve groaned “Like, seriously, why did you even come in here anyway? You don’t need to come through the house to get to your annex!”

“We were hungry.” She whined, “Mom said she’d leave us something in the fridge although frankly, now I’ve lost my appetite.”

Steve wiped a hand over his face before he shook his head, taking a deep breath “I’m gonna go up to bed. Can we just forget this happened, please?”

“I’d love to.” Emmy practically growled as she made her way towards the rear of the kitchen. “God, I need to scrub my eyes with bleach…once you’ve finished using it to mop wherever you were…you know.”

Steve arched an eyebrow and that little devil on his shoulder reared his, or her as the case may be,  head and he couldn’t help the sarcastic response as it flew from his mouth “I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I’d need a lot of bleach to wash down each surface of this house I’ve had your mother on.”

Emmy’s mouth fell open and she looked at him, before she let out a loud groan. “You’re disgusting. Like, I can’t even…”

She shook her head and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. Steve shook his head, watched as the security light clicked on whilst she stormed across the back garden to her little annex and with a chuckle he made sure the door was locked and turned off the lights.

All in all it had been a damned good day now he thought about it. He’d carved pumpkins with his kids, seen them all have a great time, eaten Italian, drunk beer, chatted to his friends, fucked his wife exceptionally well and now embarrassed his eldest.

“Mission accomplished…” he snorted to himself as he took the stairs two at a two, padding across the hallway and entering his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

[illfoandillfie]

please give me Anything himbo roger i need this like perhaps... him being obsessed with eating pussy? pls? - cloud anon

I’m so so so glad you requested more himbo rog because i love any excuse to write him lmao. This is a bit of a long one, certainly well over blurb length but what are you gonna do. I just have a lot of thots where himbo rog is concerned and then there was that convo a little while ago about dressing him in a maid uniform and I had to use it in here. 

warnings: smut, hypnosis & bimbofication, dom!reader, fingering, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, a little bit of spanking, a little choking, a very brief mention of public sex, free use (perhaps leaning ever so slightly into consensual non consent), humiliation and degradation

Blurb Advent: Day 15

Future Management Series (all my bimbo/himbo writing)

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini  

The costume shop was quiet when you entered it, one of the fluorescent lights at the far end flickering. The lady at the counter looked up from her magazine, her gaze lingering on Roger for a moment before she looked back down.

“What was the theme again?” you asked Roger as you flicked through a rack of women’s costumes.

“The letter M,” he replied from one of the other racks.

“How did Freddie pick that?”

“Dunno, you’d have to ask him. Bigger question is what are we going to wear.”

“What about Mickey and Minnie Mouse?” you shrugged.

“That sounds easy. And we’d look cute as fuck.”

“Sorry, hun,” the woman at the counter piped up, “Sold out of them two days ago.”

“Rats.”

“Mice, love,” Roger teased poking his tongue out as he went to check out another row of costumes, “We could make them from scratch I suppose.”

“Left it a bit late though. We’re meant to have them by Saturday.” You headed to the counter in the hopes that the woman there would be able to speed things up, “Do you have any other costumes starting with M then?”

She sighed as she were being interrupted in a very important task before putting down her magazine and pulling out a binder full of lists of stock. Flicking through it she located the section with M. An awful lot of it had been crossed out.

“How many people are invited to this thing? And do they all shop here?”

He shrugged as he joined you at the counter, “Roughly half of London if his last party was anything to go by. What are our options?”

The women smiled at Roger, her attitude becoming much friendlier now that he was involved, “Not a lot I’m afraid. We’ve still got a Mummy, as in Ancient Egypt, ummm, a Maid, as in French, Marilyn Monroe, Mary Poppins, a Monk, Mrs Clause, Medieval Princess…”

“Looks like you’ll be easy to sort out,” Roger said to you, “not much in the way of mens costumes though. I’d be an alright Mummy I guess,”

“Sorry, should have specified. It’s a women’s costume that one. Very sexy,”

“How do you make a Mummy sexy?”

“Strategically removed bandages. I can show you if you like,” she said this last part to Roger, suggestion dripping from every word.

“What about the Monk?” you suggested.

“Ehhhh,”

“Beggars can’t be choosers Rog.”

“Alright, it’s the backup idea. Would I be able to fit in any of those other costumes though?”

The woman thought about it, giving Roger a once over as if measuring him with just her eyeballs, “The Maid maybe. Think we should have one large enough.”

“Alright I’ll try that.”

“And I’ll go Marilyn Monroe?”

“You as Marilyn? Oh there’s a joke in there somewhere…something about How To Mary A Millionaire?”

You shook your head at him, “Just go and try on your dress,”

It was a good thing Roger had no qualms about cross dressing because the maid outfit fit perfectly. One look at Roger’s legs in the short, ruffled skirt had your mind whirring with ideas. He bought both your costumes, adding in a maid’s headband and fishnet stockings for himself and a blond Marilyn wig for you. And on Saturday night you watched him don the outfit once more, struggling to keep your hands off him. Without you knowing, he’d gone and bought himself a pair of simple black heels, explaining that if he was going to do it he might as well do it properly. Unfortunately for you they just emphasised the shape of his legs in the fishnets and made his hips sway as he walked.

 The party itself was fun but you constantly found yourself zoning out, thinking about what you’d like to do to Roger before he got out of the dress.

“Love?” he asked, making you blink yourself back to the thumping music and loud voices, “You alright?’

“Fine,” you nodded.

Roger frowned and grabbed your hand, leading you away from the main throng of people, “You’ve been zoning out all night, are you sure you’re okay? Haven’t had too much to drink or anything?”

“No, it’s fine. Someone lit up a joint before and I must have breathed in some of it without meaning to.”

He gave you a look like he knew there was more to it.

“Also, maybe I can’t stop thinking about trancing you in that dress.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened and if it hadn’t been as dark as it was you would have seen a light pink stain creeping up his neck. He glanced around and then pulled you off down the hall and towards an even quieter spot, “and um, what might that look like?”

“I don’t know, got a few ideas,” your breath hitched as Roger pushed you into a dark corner of whichever room you’d ended up in, “like the idea of you on your knees. Bet I could see your arse if you leaned forward enough.”

Roger attached his lips to your throat, oblivious of if anyone else was around.

“Maybe spanking you or edg – ” you were cut off as Roger kissed you full on the mouth, his hands already working at getting his underwear and stockings down far enough to get his dick out.

“We’ll continue this conversation at home,” he said as he lifted you up, pushing your back against the wall as he moved your underwear aside.

 It took a couple of days for the topic to come up again but Roger was still just as into it as he had been at the party. He’d clearly been thinking about it too because he had almost as many ideas as you did and for a week or so you discussed it on and off. It came up intermittently, sometimes a single idea out of nowhere.

“What if you tranced me and made me think I was your maid or uhhh servant? Maybe like acted really strict? Or mean even?”

“What about I get a bell to ring to get your attention but use the hypnosis to condition you to get hornier when you hear it?”

Or sometimes it was more of a conversation with each of you building on what the other said.

“What do you think about exploring that free use thing we talked about a few months ago? Like me just having you how I want and when I want.”

“Would that require a more extended hypnosis? A whole day maybe? More?”

“No I don’t think so. I mean, maybe longer than the usual couple of hours. An afternoon? Not longer than a day though, I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that to you.”

“Then yeah okay, we did agree it sounded hot in a non-hypno way so mixing them together should work. Um, what about that pegging thing we tried?”

“You wanna do it again?”

“Yeah I think so. Again, it was pretty hot last time so doing it while I’m hypnotised can only be better, right?”

“Are you sure? We’re both pretty new to it.”

“Yeah I’m sure. I really enjoyed it,” he laughed nervously, “and I would have suggested doing it again anyway, this just seems like a good excuse.”

By the end of the week you had a pretty solid idea about what you were both looking for from the scene and what you’d both feel comfortable doing. And you arranged it so you were both at home on Friday, free to spend the morning relaxing and the afternoon playing.

After an early lunch in which you made sure to mess up the kitchen, Roger went and changed, once again putting on the dress, fishnets, hair piece and shoes. Only this time he wore one of your thongs, sheer black, underneath and a butt plug you’d picked up for him, complete with a pink jewel on the end. For your part, you dressed in one of your work outfits with a grey pencil skirt and white blouse, hopeful that it would make you seem more authoritative. Roger did a little spin for you when he was dressed and then sat in one of the kitchen chairs so you could talk him down into his trance. The scenario you’d agreed upon had him believing he was your silly brainless maid, hired to do whatever you asked. The sound of your bell meant you had another task for him, but it also made him extra horny. So horny in fact that he’d have trouble remembering what he was meant to be doing. As you dropped him deeper and he relaxed more, you noticed his legs spreading further open, making you laugh to yourself. Finally you rang the bell to wake him.

Roger grinned at you from the chair, “What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Your first job of the day, Dummy,” you said, putting on a stern voice that left no room for argument, “is to dust off the bookshelf in the living room. It’s filthy up there.”

“Where?”

“Through this doorway,” you pointed and he dutifully stood up and began to walk toward it.

“You’ll need a duster,” you reminded him.

“Oh! Of course, Ma’am. Umm….”

“In that cupboard,”

Roger nodded, cheeks pink with embarrassment and retrieved the feather duster.

You followed him out to the living room, watching his skirt bounce with each step. He started off with the shelves at eye level, humming to himself as he brushed the duster over them, but soon had to move on to the shelves higher up. You perched yourself on the couch, acting as if you were reading though your eyes were on Roger, watching as he wobbled on his tip toes, his skirt riding up. You rang the bell and Roger jolted, looking around for you as he bit his lip.

“Yes Ma’am?”

“I think you might need to stand on a chair, Dummy. It doesn’t seem like you can reach the top shelves.”

He nodded and hurried to retrieve one, nearly running in his haste to please you.

The chair was a stroke of genius on your part. It gave you a good view up his skirt as he happily continued his dusting, especially when he leant over to get the far end of each shelf without moving his chair. You could clearly see the pink jewel every time and it made you eager to get him onto the next task. With another ring of the bell Roger jumped down to the ground and hurried to ask what he could do now.

“My shoes,” you said, pointing at the heels on your feet, “they need polishing. I want you to spit shine them for me.”

Roger blinked at you.

You clicked and pointed at your shoes again, “On your knees. C’mon, I’m not paying you to stand around and look pretty. Lick my shoes clean.”

“Yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am,” he bowed his head and dropped to his knees where he stood, crawling over to you.

“Good Dummy,” you said as he trailed his tongue over the toe of your shoe. You’d wiped down the shoes earlier just to make sure Roger wouldn’t pick up any germs from them, but he was too brainless to notice they were already clean, enthusiastically licking at them. You made it clear you were watching him closely though. Midway through the second shoe you saw him brush his hand over the front of the skirt and stopped his shoe shining.

“I’m sorry, Dummy, is this making you horny?”

“Yes, Ma’am, it is,”

“Show me how much,” you wiggled your shoe under the hem of the skirt and pressed it lightly up, rubbing the toe against his crotch, “Hump my shoe, Maid.”

Without any more encouragement he began doing exactly as you’d asked, dragging his clothed cock along the top of your shoe, letting his eyes shut as he bit his lip.

“Alright, enough.” You pulled your food free and held it out in front of you, “Is it my imagination or did you make a mess on my shoe?”

He tilted his head to the side.

“I think you’re so fucking horny you’ve got precum all over my shoe. Is that right?”

“I don’t know,”

“Well,” you grabbed him by the hair and pushed him over the streak, “clean it up and tell me.”

Roger whimpered as you pulled his hair to move him where you wanted but thanked you for helping him and confirmed you were right. After that you felt he deserved a reward so you readjusted yourself, pulling your pencil skirt a little higher up your legs before you rang the bell again.

Roger groaned quietly at the sound, his breathing a little harder than before and then sat back. His eyes fell to where your skirt was gathered against your thigh as you crossed your legs.

“What now Ma’am?” he watched closely as you recrossed your legs, “Is there something else you’d like me to lick?”

“I don’t know. Is there something else you’d like to lick?”

He nodded, eyes still firmly on your thighs.

“Aren’t you just a pathetic little slut.”

“Am I?”

“I’m afraid so. Do you understand why?”

Roger nodded, still staring at your crotch, and then shook his head.

“Oh Dummy. It’s one thing to be my good little maid and eat me out when I tell you to, it’s entirely different for you to ask to do it. Do you see how slutty that makes you?”

Roger tilted his head and then shook it.

You tutted at him and knocked the bell as if on accident.

He whined at the sound.

“Crawl to the dining room. I want you to wash the floor in there.”

“But…please? I want to lick you soooooo bad and I’d be so good at it.”

“Careful, Maid. Now crawl.

“Yes Ma’am.” Roger dipped his head in apology and began crawling to the next room.

You stepped around him to retrieve a bucket of water and a cloth, placing both on the floor of the dining room where he stopped, “You know what to do.”

He looked at the bucket and back to you, confusion written all over his face.

With an exaggerated and exasperated sigh you handed him the cloth and, taking hold of his wrist, plunged his hand into the warm water. He gasped as you then wrenched it free and dropped it to the floorboards.

“Scrub.”

He nodded, looking mildly upset and dragged the cloth slowly over the floor.

You watched for a little while before coming up behind him, “Put your back into it, stop being lazy.” you pressed his upper back with your foot to make him bend forward.

His neck and face were bright pink, though it was hard to say whether it was arousal or embarrassment that was making him flush more. He did as you asked though, scrubbing the floor harder. You stepped behind him again, admiring the view and occasionally reminding him what you expected. After you felt you’d watched him struggle enough you stepped up behind him again. He pushed the cloth harder, expecting another reprimand. Instead you trailed you hand over the curve of his arse, pushing his skirt up higher.

Roger stilled, though you heard him whine softly into the floor.

“You’re doing a very good job, Dummy.”

He gasped when you suddenly spanked him but he pushed his arse back against your hand.

“You want another?”

He shook his head but kept pressing back against you.

“But I think you do,” You gave him another spank, “Now keep being good and see if you can earn some more.”

He nodded and smiled, though there were tears in his eyes, and then returned to scrubbing the floor.

 You let him go for a while, stepping out into the other room to calm down and get ready for the next part of the plan. You could feel your wetness pooling in your underwear with how turned on you were at ordering Roger around and how much he was enjoying it. Originally you were going to make him wait to get you off until after you’d fucked him but perhaps you could have your cake and eat it too. All the same you headed to the bedroom to gather the strap and dildo you’d bought when the topic of pegging had first arisen between you. You grabbed them and the lube and then put them down again as you considered your next move. The conclusion you came to was that there wasn’t much point having a desperate bimbo toy if you were only going to deny yourself. Roger came as much as he wanted when you were the one under his influence, so why shouldn’t you do the same. You quickly shimmied out of your underwear, and then picked everything up again, dropping it on the couch in the living room on your way back to see how Roger was getting along. He was still scrubbing though he’d spilt some of the water as he’d moved the bucket, the top of his dress wet in patches. You pulled out one of the chairs, standing in front of it as you rang the bell, and watched as Roger squirmed at the sound.  

“What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Come here.”

He immediately dropped the cloth and crawled towards you.

“Good Dummy. Need your fingers to make me feel good.” You rucked your skirt up and dropped onto the seat, placing one leg up on the table.

Rogers eyes lit up and he leaned forward as if to lick hungrily along your slit.

You grabbed his hair and held him back.

“Ma’am?” Roger whined, struggling against your grip with his tongue hanging out, desperate to reach your cunt.

“I said fingers, slut.”

Roger whimpered again but brought his hand up, trailing his fingers along your slit.

“That’s right Dummy. You’re gonna finger me and make me cum and you’re going to keep your eyes up here so I know you’ll behave yourself.”

He nodded rapidly, his eyes on yours, “You’re wet,”

“You know how much I like watching your cute little arse work. C’mon, finger me,” you instructed, waiting until he’d sunk one digit into you before continuing, “Love seeing you with that pretty plug. Makes me want to use you.”

“Ma’am can I…?”

“I didn’t say you could talk. Focus.”

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled his finger out and pressed it back in.

“You look confused Slut. What’s the matter?”

“Is this good?”

You smiled indulgently at that, half convinced he’d been about to ask to eat you out again, “So good Dummy. Add a second finger.”

He did as you asked, automatically curling them against you as he pulled them out.

“You’re such a good, obedient servant.” You relaxed back into the chair, letting Roger find a good rhythm.

He was quiet for a bit, concentrating, and then “Can I lick you now?”

You made a tutting noise, “I thought you understood your position.”

“Pos-tition?”

“I guess I have to explain it again then. I don’t care if you like licking cunt, this isn’t about you. You’re my maid. Your job is to serve me however I want, remember? I don’t care if you want something different. You’re mine to use how and when I want. Those were the conditions I hired you under, do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am,”

“Are you sure? Then why haven’t I cum yet?”

Roger kept his eyes locked on yours as he sunk a third finger into you, pumping them faster and bringing his other hand up to rub your clit.

“Better,” you managed to get out, though it was much breathier than you’d intended.

Roger poked his tongue out between his teeth as he put all his energy into pleasuring you. You let your head drop back, rocking your hips in time with his thrusts as he sank his fingers deep into you, his other hand firmly occupied too. He slid his thumb between your lips and up to circle your clit, spreading your arousal over your cunt. The mixture of sensations sent you over the edge without too much delay, your legs clamping shut to keep his hand where you wanted it until you’d come down. Afterwards you made Roger hold his fingers up, cleaning them off with your own tongue. He whined and pouted as he watched you lick up your juices, so desperate to taste you for himself. You gave him a small concession though, grabbing his cheeks when you were done to force his mouth open. He looked confused as you brought your face close and spat onto his tongue, your saliva tinged with what you’d just licked from his fingers. But he thanked you with a big smile and a small hum of satisfaction as he swallowed it.

“What now Ma’am?” he asked softly, sitting up straighter and glancing at the bell.

You bumped the bell against your palm as if in thought, watching Roger wince with each ring, “The kitchen needs a tidy up. Go in there and wipe down all the benches for me, okay? I’ll be back soon to check on you.”

Roger nodded and walked on unsteady legs back through the house. You followed him, needing to point him in the right direction a couple of times, and then continued on to the living room to collect your supplies and remove your skirt. It took you a little while to figure out the harness. Last time Roger had helped you get set up so doing it on your own was a little confusing. You took a breath and reminded yourself you were a smart and capable woman and that you could figure out a simple sex toy on your own, and eventually got it on right. When you were comfortable you popped open the lube and spread more than you thought you’d need along the shaft of the toy. It still felt a little bizarre to look down and see a penis, even if it was obviously fake. The first time you’d tried it on you’d wondered aloud if the work you did for those living rough would have been easier to achieve if you had a real one and Roger had suggested you wear it to work one day and find out. You’d laughed at how ridiculous that was and the memory made you chuckle again as you double checked everything was in the right place.

Roger was in the kitchen when you arrived, standing at the bench with a cloth in his hand, humming to himself, though he seemed to have forgotten what he was meant to be doing. You stepped behind him and ran your hand up the inside of his thigh, over the stockings.

The humming stopped and he stilled, “Ma’am?”

“Bend over.”

He did as you asked, his chest and arms leaning on the bench.

You felt him up, letting your hands roam under his skirt, brushing over his cock and along his thigh and over his arse, making his shiver and whine. “Good thing this dress is so short, Dummy. Makes it so much easier for me. And it makes you look like a slut. You’re very hard by the way, does that mean you like it when I tell you what to do?”

His voice was soft when he spoke to the bench top, “Yes, Ma’am,”

“That’s good because I like telling you what to do. And you should be happy to know that I’m wet from watching my brainless maid working all day.”

“I am happy!”

“You are?”

“Mmhmm. Maybe I could help you Ma’am, I love cunt so much.”

“Aww Dummy,” you cooed, stroking your fingers through his hair, “That’s sweet of you to offer but it’s not what I want right now,” you took the fishnets in both hands and tugged until a rip formed right along the back, “For now I want you to stay bent over for me so I can use you. Just like I talked about before, remember?”

“When you said I’m yours to use how you want?”

“You do remember! Good boy!”

“And you said, ummmm,” he gasped as you moved his underwear aside and began slowly working the plug out of him, adding lube to make it easier

“Go one, what else did I say?” you asked as you pushed the plug back in, fucking him with it, adding more lube as necessary.

“Umm, you said they were the,” he stretched out the word as he thought hard, “oh! The co-com-bit-ons and that its, umm, my job to serve you?”

“Very good! That was so much to remember, I’m very impressed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dummy. I think I’ll have to give you a reward for remembering it all so well.”

Roger looked over his shoulder at you, grinning, “Thank you Ma’am,”

“Alright, turn back around, I’m still going to use you. Because….?”

“Because I’m yours?”

“Good boy,” you pulled the plug free and placed it on the bench beside you. Squeezing some more lube onto your fingers you began spreading it over his arsehole.

“‘s cold,” he said softly to the bench.

“I know baby, but it won’t be for long. And I gotta make sure there’s enough so that I don’t hurt you. And then you’ll be all ready for my cock.”

Roger nodded, flattening himself on the bench as you lined up the tip of the dildo and slowly sank into him.

Roger made a high pitched keening noise and you reached out to stroke his hair again as he adjusted.

“You okay, baby?” you asked letting the stern act drop for a moment.

Roger nodded, “yeah, ‘m okay. Just feels funny.”

“But good though?”

“Mmhmm. Good.”

“Good. I want you to like it. It’s more fun when you do.”

“I do!” as if to prove it he pushed his hips back, making you sink a little deeper.

“I can see that,” you laughed, “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay Dummy, and you’re going to enjoy it, right?”

He nodded, whining as you pulled your hips back slowly and then thrust forward again, figuring out your rhythm and adjusting to the sort of muscle movement it required. As you got more comfortable with it you let yourself be a little firmer, grasping Roger’s waist and fucking him harder, drawing more gasps and whines and moans from him. You varied your speed, sometimes faster and sometimes slower, keeping Roger from knowing exactly what you would do next (and giving yourself a break every so often). He’d taken your instruction to enjoy it to heart though. His fingernails scraped along the top of the bench as he tried to ground himself, rocking his hips back against you whenever you slowed.

“I want you to cum, Dummy. Rub your cock through your pretty sheer panties.”

“Th-through?”

“Over your panties.”

“Um,”

You stilled your hips and pulled out of him so you could grab his hand and lift his skirt, placing his palm over his cock, “now rub.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he began to stroke himself. His hand stilled as you plunged into him again but a warning word made him remember what you wanted and he shakily followed your orders as you fucked him hard.

“How does it feel, Maid, being used for my entertainment?”

Roger babbled something incomprehensible in response. You couldn’t tell if it was just noise or if he’d been trying to form words but it was hot either way.

“C’mon, show me how much you like being my pretty little fuck doll. Be the pathetic little slut I know you are, and cum.” You panted between the words but Roger didn’t seem to notice or if he did he didn’t care. It must have sounded authoritative enough because a few seconds later he was moaning, his fingers twitching and legs shaking as he came. You slowed to a stop and replaced the dildo with his plug again before fixing his underwear and smoothing down his skirt.

“There, all pretty again,”

“Thank you Ma’am,” he sighed.

You patted his head, “Finish up cleaning off the benches in here and I’ll have another job for you.” You walked off, releasing a long breath once you were out of his hearing.

 In the time it took you to get out of the harness, put your skirt back on, throw the dildo into a sink of hot water and relocate the bell, Roger achieved very little. He hadn’t moved from where you’d bent him over though he had stood up and grabbed his cloth again, drawing circles with it over the benchtop. When you came back to get him for his next job he was shifting from foot to foot.

“What’s the matter, Dummy?”

“Nothing,”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded though he didn’t meet your eye.

“Tell me.”

“My panties…”

“Aww, is it a bit uncomfortable?”

He nodded vigorously.

“Well maybe I can distract you.” You rang the bell and watched as his eyes glazed over and his hips jolted. “The bed needs to be made Dummy. Go on, off you go.”

He nodded and hurried off, his heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, his step awkward as he squirmed in discomfort. You followed him and showed him where to get a clean sheet from, watching as he pottered around the bed pulling off all the bedding, throwing them into a pile on the floor. Putting a new fitted sheet on the mattress seemed to be too hard a task though. It was almost cartoonish how much he struggled, placing the wrong corner of the sheet on the wrong corner of the bed and then somehow repeating the same mistake when he tried to turn the sheet around. He wouldn’t stand still, uncomfortably dancing around in his cum soaked underwear, getting more and more frustrated as the corner he thought he’d got on flew up when he tried to fit the next one. Every so often you jangled the bell under the guise of getting his attention to give him a helpful tip or reprimand him for taking so long, but it had the added effect of turning him on more than he already was, his face flushed and his eyes begging. You let him continue for a few minutes and then, when he next turned in response to your bell, you surprised him by pushing him onto the mattress.

“Ma’am?” he asked, voice trembling as you positioned yourself on his thigh and pushed his dress up.

“You made such a mess before, didn’t you? Ruined your panties and I’m afraid it’s spread to your pretty dress,” you showed him the patches on the inside of the skirt from where it had rubbed against the sheer fabric of his knickers and been stained. “Lucky for you I like messy little sluts. And” you palmed him roughly, “I think you like it too. Already hard again?”

Roger shook his head but tilted his head back and whined.

You placed your hand over his throat, “Don’t lie to me, Maid. I can see it; I can feel it. You’re a dirty little slut who gets off on being my property. My dumb little fuck doll.” You punctuated the last sentence by grinding against his thigh with each word, squeezing his length through his stained underwear. “I’m going to make you cum again now and if you’re good I might see about letting you eat me out. I did promise you a reward earlier,”

“Please,” Roger whimpered, “I’ll make you feel so, so good.”

“I know, Dummy. But not yet.” You squeezed his throat at the same time you rubbed your hand over his cock, choking off the moan that had begun to build. Roger squirmed under you as you wanked him off, cooing at him about how pretty he looked and how wet it was making you. Each stroke along his shaft was accompanied by a breathy whine or moan, his head tilted back and his eyes fluttering shut. It was always fun to watch Roger be pushed towards release when he was tranced. It was fun when he wasn’t hypnotised either but there was something about taking his brain away that made him more animated and vocal. He babbled at you again, his hand grabbing your wrist as he got closer, his back arching as he tried to buck his hips up into you.

“Good boy, good Dummy,” you praised him as he finished, able to feel the warmth of his release fill the material again as you kept stroking him, milking every drop you could. He whined loudly as he became more sensitive, but you kept toying with him until tears began leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Alright, Dummy, stay there while I take my skirt off.”

Roger remained lying where you left him, so you gave him a soft kiss and wiped away his tears, praising him a little more, before you swung your leg over his face and finally let him have what he wanted.  

 It was as if you’d told him he’d won the lottery. He just about cheered as he thanked you repeatedly and then wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull you down onto his tongue. You had to stick out an arm to try and steady yourself as he devoured you, excitedly tracing your lips with his tongue, sucking them into his mouth. He hummed and whimpered against you and used his hands to encourage you to rock yourself against his mouth, spreading your wetness across his face. At one point, so giddy with joy, he giggled, and you jolted at the bizarre tickling sensation of his breath. But that just seemed to spur him on as he licked and sucked every inch of your cunt he could reach. You weren’t sure if his end goal was to make you cum or if he just got very excited and enthusiastic about pussy but, either way, the result was the same. It was impossible to hold back your release as his tongue slid along your folds and his lips latched onto you. He hummed as you gasped and tensed above him, refusing to stop until you pried his hands from your thighs and let yourself fall back to the bed. He pouted as if he wanted to throw a tantrum at having his favourite food taken away, but you managed to make him smile by telling him how incredible you felt and how good he was.

He let you lie down next to him and listened quietly as you talked him out of the trance, reminding him who he was and the reality of your situation. You waited as Roger opened his eyes, stroking his hair back from his face softly as everything returned to him.

“Wow,” was the first thing he said, “That was,” he cleared his throat and pushed himself to sit up, “that was something.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, a very fun something,” he hurried to clarify so you wouldn’t worry, “I take it you enjoyed yourself too?”

You laughed and nodded, “Definitely. This is going to sound bad but I like being mean to you.”

“I get it,” he leaned over to kiss you softly, “I like being mean to you too.”

“And the pegging and free use stuff? All of that was okay? How do you feel now?”

“Oh, better than okay. That was brilliant. We’re definitely playing with them more in the future. Bit sore now and I really, really want to get out of this thong. Also take the plug out.”

“I can arrange that. D’you want some help with the plug?”

“Yes please.” Roger shifted onto his stomach, trying to relax so you could peel off the underwear and slowly wiggle the plug out of his arse, “Add these knickers to the list of ones I’ve ruined though.”

“That’s only cause I get such a kick out of making you cum in your pants.”

He hummed, wincing a little as the plug slipped all the way out, “y’know one of these days I’m going to wake up from a trance and decide to gag you with whatever underwear you made me destroy while I keep eating you out. I still have a bit of a lingering need to have my head between your legs and I do so enjoy overstimulating you.”

“Save that for a special occasion,” you laughed, giving his bum a tap to let him know he could roll over, “C’mon, shall I run us a bath?”

Roger nodded and let you pull him up, kissing you softly before he stood on slightly wobbly legs followed you out of the bedroom.

[astromechs]

keep whatever it is (that's compelling you on)

HERE IT IS, my matrix resurrections spec fic, completed and in under the wire before the trailer! i think i'm ready to quit fussing over this, and i'm really excited to get it out into the world!

also here on ao3!

01.

Every single morning, Thomas A. Anderson is jolted awake at approximately 8:15 AM by the shrill of the same alarm, shovels in the same shitty cereal before stumbling into one of the same five shitty suits that he has to remember to get dry-cleaned, takes the same seat on the subway on the way to work — where he sits in the same chair for eight hours straight with minimal breaks, staring at his computer screen (or, more often, out into nothing) until it’s time to take the same subway back to his shitty apartment, order from the same rotation of shitty takeout, and find some mindless, banal distraction while he ignores texts that don’t even matter anyway before he falls asleep to eventually wake up and do it all over again.

It’s nothing special — just the average life of an average mid-grade programmer at the average tech conglomerate. Comfortable, sure, and a dream many would kill to achieve; he knows this, knows this every time he passes the poor old woman who’s feeding pigeons in her ratty coat from the battered metal bench on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building. He slips her whatever spare change he has on him — a $20 bill, on the days he’s lucky, but often less than that — and, without fail, she always accepts, with a warm smile and kind eyes that seem to stare right into his soul, seeing the deepest parts of it.

Like she knows him. And that’s what’s weird.

He tries not to put too much thought into it, because, honestly, he tries not to put too much thought into anything at all; he’s found that to be the most effective way to navigate the machine that systematically runs his rhythmic, mundane life.

But even so, there are things that he knows he can’t shake.

One afternoon in late February, when the cut of the wind had not remotely suggested that spring would just be a month away, he’d passed the woman on the bench as always, but he could’ve sworn that the whole flock of pigeons scattered on the sidewalk at her feet had frozen for a split second. Like they’d been… glitching. In a blink, everything had returned to normal, and he’d spent about three days (and three sleepless nights) trying to convince himself he’d been seeing things, that he’d just been spending too much time actually working on his assigned program for once and that maybe he should take some of his accumulated vacation days? And the following week, he had, but….

No time off to try to clear his head would ever change the fact that this hadn’t been an isolated incident.

Because sometimes — he swears he sees pieces of code fall through his field of vision; a blink and then they’re gone, but it happens too often not to be a pattern, and no matter how much he might want to for the sake of his own sanity, he can’t just brush that aside. Sometimes, flashes come to his mind like barely-remembered dreams, in idle moments and just on the edge of the line that separates sleep from waking consciousness, so real that he knows they’re memories. Dark tunnels that haven’t seen the sun for centuries. Cold, so cold that no amount of warmth, human or otherwise, can really combat. Running, desperately bounding up the fire escape to the third floor of a rundown motel, three men in sunglasses and perfectly-tailored suits in close pursuit, his heart pounding in his ears so loudly he can barely hear the phone ring from Room 303, the place he has to get to, because everything depends on it. A barrage of bullets in his chest, one right after the other, back slumping against the wall as his heart gives out, vision fading to grey and then to black, but a voice, reaching through it all to call him, tether him….

Neo.

There are things that he knows he can’t shake, and sometimes, he thinks he had another life. Another name.

Another purpose.

He’s haunted by the ghost of it.

It’s the second of April — at least, that’s what the screen of his phone tells him, because otherwise he wouldn’t know, or care to know. A Friday, and all the faceless commuters are packed like sardines into this subway car, headed home for weekends that are sure to be as inconsequential as his own. Today, he has to stand holding the rail for the ride home; a woman trying to juggle both a baby and two bags of groceries had just barely managed to stumble onto the train before the doors had closed, and he’d sprung up, more than glad to give up his seat to someone in greater need.

She tries to thank him, profusely and repeatedly, but with where he’s standing, he would have to twist to keep facing her, so, with a nod and the barest hint of a smile, he turns away to spend the trip the way he always does: in solitude.

The route back to the station just down the block from his apartment building is never smooth, by any stretch of the imagination, but today, it’s bumpier than usual; the train car jerks and jostles, until, eventually, it sends him colliding into back of the passenger standing next to him.

He’s just about to stammer out some automatic, awkward apology, but then —

Blue eyes meet his, clear, crisp blue, and a jolt strikes him right to the core.

He thinks — no, he knows, he knows — he’s seen these eyes.

Neo. In the darkest corners of his mind, the voice whispers again.

Time freezes, glitches, around him, around him and this stranger with familiar blue eyes. He sees the light leave them, and then come right back. He sees warmth, what something is telling him had once been the only thing able to keep the cold of the real away; that warmth spreads through now, to the tips of him, and he has a sense, one he doesn’t entirely understand, that something has just clicked into place.

Behind sunglasses, another pair of eyes watches them from across the car.

“You all right?” Neo.

He sees brows knit in concern, and for the first time, he pays attention to the face that the eyes belong to. Probably the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in… more than one life, he’d have to guess, is now in front of him; he isn’t so detached and disconnected that he doesn’t notice that. Her short dark hair is cut into a severe bob, and she’s dressed in black from head to toe — from her coat and gloves, to her boots. It suits her, somehow.

After a beat, he finally remembers to speak. “Yeah. I — sorry.” The subway jerks to a halt; he glances up, and adds quickly, after clearing his throat, “This is… my stop. Excuse me. Sorry.”

Pushing past her, pushing past everyone in his way, he disembarks to the station, and when his feet touch solid pavement, he takes off at a sprint. Up the stairs (third floor… Room 303….), down the sidewalk (agents, just behind… he can beat them, if he just runs faster than he ever has…), not stopping until the mundane certainty of his shitty apartment building is within his sights.

Just before he makes it safely inside, he catches a glimpse of the old woman on the bench watching him, her smile wider than he’s ever seen it. Maybe, even, almost inhumanly wide.

10.

Her name is Natalie.

That’s what he learns about a week later, when he bumps into her again in front of the grocery store on the corner down from the subway station, the one he always chooses out of convenience. Quite literally; he’s distracted, disconnected, and before he even knows what’s happening, he’s collided with another body, contents of the two bags under his arms spilling out onto the sidewalk. His apologies are hurried and stammered, but her hands are gentle as she moves to help, brushing his more than once. Her smile is soft when their eyes meet.

Over the next several months, he learns a lot of other things, too.

He learns that she takes her coffee with cream and no sugar, and that she always leaves the barista a generous tip. He learns that she’s a genius with tech, better than him and his two computer science degrees and half-cushy corporate job could ever hope to be, and has his whole apartment practically rewired in an hour one day. He learns that if he’s quiet and still, her black cat has no qualms with being his friend. He learns that her lips curve up in just a certain way and her eyes crinkle when she’s just about to laugh.

And he learns that kissing her feels like coming home, as familiar and peaceful as it is new and strange. He learns that with her, coming together, becoming one with another person, is like nothing else.

For the first time in what he can remember, he knows what it feels like to be alive.

(Only it isn’t… is it? The first time. Somehow, just like he knows that he sees the same person walk past him twice, like he knows that those glitches start happening on a near-daily basis, like he knows that the old woman on the bench is smiling at him more broadly than ever….

Their lives have collided, and given each other meaning, purpose, before.)

11.

In his dreams, he sees a city entirely built from light. Spires touch the sky like fireworks, blindingly bright, and with every step, flames ripple out from his feet, making the next one all too clear.

Inevitable.

This is where his path had always led.

In his dreams, he can’t see her face. He can only hear struggling gasps for breath, and a voice that only grows shakier. He can only feel the metal that pierces her stomach, the blood that pools on her shirt. The faint heartbeat he can do nothing to restart.

Inevitable.

(You were right, Smith. You are always right.)

He wakes with a start, drenched in a cold sweat (as cold as their last kiss), gasping for breath. Next to him on the bed, Natalie stirs and shifts closer; when he reaches out a tentative hand, lets his fingers graze over her stomach, she’s warm.

His eyes scrunch tightly shut. Code falls behind his lids like the rain that patters against the windows outside.

100.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary on this day in early fall. A breeze rustles the trees as they walk hand in hand through the park, and provides the first hint that cooler weather is on the way. Children’s laughter from the nearby playground fills the air. Dogs chase each other on the grass. Natalie sips her coffee, cream with no sugar; they enjoy the contented silence that falls between them, only punctuated by her soft smile.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary — except for everything that is.

They meet each other’s eyes, her blue to his brown, and in an instant, everything changes.

It’s hard to tell who sees it first, but — the flash of recognition envelops both of them. Vague memories, the ones that have floated over him like a constant cloud, just out of reach, are in his hands, in his brain, in his heart. He’d had another life once, another name. And it’d been —

“Neo.”

She whispers it on an awed breath, tears forming in her eyes. The coffee cup slips from her grasp, long since forgotten; she lifts that hand to his face, fingers tracing the rise of his cheekbone.

Tears swim in his vision, too, tears and strands of code, falling. Falling. Nothing makes sense and yet everything makes sense, no more so than when the name falls out of his mouth, the last piece of a particularly jumbled puzzle: “Trinity.”

But a thousand words he doesn’t know how to say don’t even begin to get a chance to form. He feels the eyes watching them more than he sees them; both hands drop to his sides, and he tenses, ready to fight.

He’s barely aware that the old woman who’s usually on the bench near his apartment building approaches on the sidewalk. She looks between them, nods, and:

“They’re coming, kiddo,” she tells him, voice severe, with none of her usual warmth, as she grips his arm. “You need to run.”

101.

At sunset, a man in a white suit, tall and imposing, joins the old woman on a park bench near the playground, but says nothing; from all appearances, it looks as though he barely acknowledges her at all. They remain, just like this, as people filter out one by one under the steadily darkening sky, returning to their lives.

They always remain through every iteration, the Mother and Father of the Matrix.

Preoccupied with purpose and the inefficiency of wasting time, as is his programming, the Father is the first to break the silence.

"I informed you it was a dangerous game.”

The Oracle says nothing in response.

She merely smiles.