#i have a young round face which kind of ruins the effect but close enough ! sooooooo glad i have a binder actually !

[tamaharu]

before -> after with that dastardly kim dokja there for size

[youarejesting]

Hope in the sheets.10

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 5k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Implied sex, pregnancy, implied reader has baby.

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Hoseok and the others were eventually led into the birthing suite; the entire place had been cleaned and only the bare minimum of staff stayed behind. They were sorting out equipment and monitoring your current state. When his eyes landed on yours he felt emotions bloom in his chest. There you were laying in the bed, a small bundle of soft blankets nestled delicately in your arms. You had showered and dressed in a nightdress that had been packed in your hospital bag. 

Hoseok’s lip curled. He was trying to hold his expression, giving you a forced smile before he broke out into tears. Holding your free arm out to him, he stumbled into your embrace kissing your forehead and telling you how much he loved you. 

His words were broken by the force of each sob. “Are you going to hold her, or do we have to hold you?” Yoongi playfully teased. Hoseok wiped his eyes taking a few shakey deep breaths trying to calm his emotions. 

When you moved the blanket to show your daughter laying gently against your chest, he was a mess once more. “Hobi, you want to hold her?”

“I can hold her?” He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. He could hold this baby, his daughter, he could hold her in his arms and she was real. 

“Of course you can hold her.” You laughed, reaching up to wipe his tears away. Hoseok remembered everything he was taught from the birthing classes, practically reciting them out loud. You placed his daughter in his arms and his bottom lip fell. 

Tears were his automatic response. There was nothing else, this miracle, this symbol of his love for you, his best and longest friend. This was his child, his flesh and blood and he couldn’t thank you enough for giving him such a gift. 

“You have to stop crying Hobi, we need a nice picture for your family.” You smiled and he tilted his head back sniffing. 

“I love you so much, and I love her, I just can’t stop crying.” The words broke again Hoseok turned to show off his daughter to his friends. They were some of the people he was closest to and when he looked at them they were all crying. Jungkook’s wet cheeks and red nose, Jimin’s sweet puffy eyes bubbling with tears, even Yoongi let out a stray sniff. 

By far it was a sight to see big burly Namjoon openly weeping like Hoseok and cooing over how precious she was. 

“Look how little she is,” Namjoon whimpered

“Her hands are so tiny too,” Hoseok said back. The two were just making it worse for each other, a back and forth of doting comments of your newborn each statement causing a fresh cycle of tears. 

The nurse who had been checking your vitals waiting to take you back to the ward rolled her eyes. “I have seen some sappy fathers but you brought a whole troop.”

“Gentleman it’s time to let mum and her baby get some sleep, the father can come back tomorrow morning any other guests can come two at a time during visiting hours.” She ushered the other six males from the room, Hoseok kissed you his cheeks were wet. 

“I don’t want to go.”

“Get some sleep Hobi, get the house ready. If all goes well I will be out of the hospital soon.” The nurse took your daughter from Hoseok’s arms. 

“Wait, can I give her a kiss?” You whispered. The nurse nodded bringing your daughter over allowing you to kiss her goodnight before she was wheeled down to the nursery. 

“Are you ready to go back to the ward? You should get some sleep. Your body will be exhausted. We will bring the child in when she is hungry.”

“Okay Hobi, I have to go rest now you head home and make the house all ready for when we come home okay.” You waved goodbye to him and watched as Jimin took his hand leading him from the room. He seemed reluctant to take his eyes off of you, his hand coming to lay flat under his heart. 

You touched your collar bone watching him mouth the words 'baseline'. It was like everything you ever wanted but such a weird and obscure way you got there. You wanted to be with Hoseok and cherish him and be loved in return, but you never thought you would get there by completely derailing your relationship and almost ruining your life. 

It was like you had to destroy what you had to build something better. It seems counterproductive and a step in the wrong direction but somehow you were able to shape the rubble of your friendship into a relationship stronger than before. 

You love Hoseok with all your heart and he only has eyes for you. It seems you were both delusional to believe that you weren’t in love. Everyone could see it except the two of you and now it was painfully obvious. 

Being a mother was kind of a shock. Scared when you woke up to cramps, only to remember you had already given birth, you were also woken throughout the night to feed your daughter. A part of you worried about taking care of someone, the responsibility setting in as being a mother was a full-time job.

“You are doing wonderful.” The nurse gave you some pain killers for your cramps, your uterus was slowly shrinking back to its regular size and you were uncomfortable. “Would you like me to get you anything?”

“I would love something to drink.” Voice hoarse from sleep, she nodded before setting off for you. You sat up watching the sunrise, your daughter sleeping soundly on the bed in front of you. She was so precious. Even with closed eyes she still wiggled and stretched her hands out to the warm glowing orb.

“Seonhee, do you like that name?” You whispered, taking out a small outfit: a white onesie with sunflowers and bright yellow footed pants with soft yellow ruffles on the butt. “Jung Seonhee.”

“Ah, is that her name?” The nurse smiled, placing some apple juice and water on the small bedside table. She sanitized her hands and began helping you with the baby's clothes and diaper, bagging the old clothes and disposing of the soiled diaper. She smiled down at the little girl in her bright outfit. “I think it suits her, Seonhee”

The doctor came by on her round, her hair pulled into a tight bun and her scrubs pastel blue with stalks. “You are looking better, how are you feeling?” There was no messing around, she was straight to business, checking for any concerns or pain. Your stomach was being palpated while she brought up things to look out for. “Ultimately if anything happens that you are unsure about, even if it is something silly like, should I have coffee while breastfeeding, call this number here, they are a great service and they will help you.”

“Thank you so much.” Taking the card you were handed and a little care package from the hospital, the nurse placed the card into the baby book which had accompanied you throughout pregnancy and after. “Am I okay to go home today?”

“You are all clear. Let us know what time you want to leave and we can have all the paperwork ready.” Pausing in the doorway, a young nurse almost bumping into her, she spun around, her coat swishing with her. “After giving birth a lot of women become a little moody, fatigued, or cry. This is totally normal as your hormones will be dropping back to a normal level. It is perfectly normal to feel these things during this time.”

“Ah, that’s good to know.” You replied while searching through the care package, glancing at some of the booklets and information sheets. There was a number for a community service where mothers take their babies to be weighed and receive checkups. The nurses had few information sessions on feeding techniques and developmental leaps. 

Looking forward to being a part of a group of new mothers, you knew you would have a lot of questions eventually. It would be nice to know if other mothers have similar concerns or effective tips for any future problems.

Hoseok arrived with a big smile, kissing you sweetly before heading over to scoop up his daughter. “Wait Hobi,” you stopped him, “I need to talk to you before you get all teary-eyed again.”

“Okay,” serious expression on his face he gave you all his attention.

“We need to agree on her name and sign the birth certificate.” The smile returned to his face, the twinkle in his eyes never dwindling since the moment he stepped into the room. “I like the name 선희 (Seonhee) written as 善 meaning Good or nice and 希 as in Hope”

Hoseok watched you write an example on a scrap piece of paper, and began nodding enthusiastically. Hands shaking the two of you eyed one another passing secret smiles, the taste of giggles on the tip of your tongue. Once the document was completed Hoseok’s hand swooped up into your hair, cradling your nape as he kissed you.

Neither lazy nor heated, the kiss was full and romantic, his lips telling a story against yours. The world stopped and only Hoseok existed. Until a shrill cry broke through the silence and the two of you apart. The cry brought with it the sound of machines and nurses walking down the hall.

“You want to go home,” Hoseok raced around the hospital bed towards your daughter, wiggling in the tiny hospital portable bassinet. His style was honestly amusing. Strips of fabric hanging from a graffitied shirt with a cargo jacket and sneakers. Strange to see him holding a baby but you loved it so much. 

Just because you were parents didn’t mean you had to get rid of everything you love. Sure you had to grow up and it was extreme. The transition you made while pregnant felt like your life was ending. That you would live to serve a tiny being. But seeing Hoseok still smiling the same, still wearing the same street hip hop style reassured you that you still had a life outside of being a mother and that would never change.

Of course, the two of you probably wouldn’t club anymore. It would be unfair if either of you went out without the other and unfair on your daughter if you were not there for her. Not to mention the cost of babysitting and the trust you would need in order to leave Seonhee with someone who wasn’t you or Hoseok.

Hoseok helped you with your bags packing the car, he had borrowed Jin’s for a smoother drive. Always thoughtful even on the littlest details. Sitting by the baby's car seat while Hoseok drove you home apologizing for every speed bump and every turn.

“Hoseok, I would like to go home before it is dark. You don’t have to drive that slow.” You laughed, he was being so serious like a knight or warrior preparing for battle to protect those he loves. In the reflection of the rearview mirror, you saw his lips twitch in amusement, the sun shining on his shaggy hair. “I love you.”

“Babe,” He whined, “you can’t say that when I am driving, I want to kiss you and then we really won’t get home before dark.”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours in the mirror before concentrating diligently once more on the road. He was singing softly to the radio as he crossed town, you must have fallen asleep as you were woken by his sweet laugh and some kisses on your cheek.

“We are home Lil darling.”

Breathing deeply trying to clear your head from your nap, as the fog in your mind disappeared your hands were secured in Hoseok’s as he helped you out of the car. Standing patiently for your body to catch up, the tender sensations in your stomach leaving you stiff.

“Seonhee, time to see your new home.” Hoseok scooped up the infant holding her to his chest as if it was the most natural thing like he had several years of experience. As opposed to this child being his firstborn. He took the soft yellow muslin wrap and covered her protecting her eyes from the afternoon sun.

Opening the door, you weren’t surprised, (mostly because you had spotted their cars on the curb) to see the boys sitting on your couch equally as excited to see you as they had been the day before in the birthing suite. Hoseok was placing your bag on the table when Seonhee started crying.

“Hey, sweetheart what’s wrong?” Hoseok patted her bottom to a steady rhythm hoping it would lull her back to sleep. Her crying continued and you felt your shirt grow damp, taking a seat you held out your hands for your daughter and nursed her while the boys kept their eyes firm on one another to respect your privacy.

“Are you drinking or are you sleeping?” You giggled at your daughter who was milk drunk. Burping her gently she wiggled releasing a few loud burps and spitting up a little onto the back of your hand and the small burp cloth you had been holding to her clothes.

“Let me take her while you clean up.” Yoongi smiled, scooping up your daughter, holding her so her head was supported, her arms and legs draped over either side of his arm. His other hand rubbed and patted her back gently as he swayed.

“You look like a squashed pie.” He smiled cheekily talking to the baby in his arms. “Cute bow shape lip from your mum, and your nose is very cute like Hoseok’s.”

“How dare you call her a squashed pie.” Namjoon tried to defend but when Yoongi turned he showed the infant, her cheek squished up against his arm, her drool slowly seeping between parted lips. “Okay, maybe a little but she is also adorable.”

“All babies look like aliens when they are born,” you grinned.

“But do you love her, more than anything else in the world?” Jungkook giggled trying to make small talk while also projecting his newfound love for such a tiny being.

“We just met, I need some time to get to know her some more.” You joke playfully curled up on the couch Seokjin handing you some dinner and a cup of tea while the boys took turns meeting your daughter.

“It says in the paperwork she can have a bath tomorrow, and that her first poo might be really yucky.” Hoseok read the take-home leaflets from the hospital and constantly checked on his two girls making sure they were both safe and sound.

“Put her in outfits you don’t care if they get destroyed,” Yoongi was singing something to the child. It was low and rough. He was talking about dreams, freestyling about how your daughter didn’t need to go to university and that she didn’t have to know everything right at this moment.  

Placing the little girl into Jimin’s waiting arms. His eyes sparkled and his lip dropped as he turned soft for the little girl.

“Hello, I am Uncle Jimin and I am going to spoil you so much.” His sweet voice gasped. He practically wiggled on the spot when she brought her fists up to her closed eyes and yawned. Taehyung was quietly snapping photos, careful not to use the flash as he didn’t want to hurt the baby's sensitive eyes, even while they were closed. He assured you, that he would get photos of everyone holding Seonhee. He had already captured Yoongi and was taking a few extra of Jimin with the small bundle.

It was honestly nice to see them all so supportive and there for your daughter. Images in your mind blooming of her first Christmas and birthday and all that would follow. Namjoon would buy her a green bike with flowers and tassels on the handles and Yoongi, helping assemble it before she woke up, attaching the training wheels for her safety.

Learning how to wrap people around her finger from her Uncle Jimin and then using it against them. She would be a dancer like her father and would light up the room. You could see her performing on a stage with the eight of you waiting with flowers to throw on stage. Maybe she wouldn’t win the first prize at her first show but they would still take her out for pizza and celebrate. Her skills would improve and the day she wins the trophy she would be lifted onto Seokjin’s shoulders. 

Not noticing you had started crying until Namjoon pulled you into a hug.  “Hey what’s got you so upset.”

“No, I am not upset, I was told that as my hormones go back to normal, I might cry and be more tired and moody and upset and I just,” Sniffing Jungkook handed over some tissues and hugging your back. The newer of the group Taehyung and Jungkook had just fit perfectly into the group, it was like they were always meant to be.

“Hey love,” Hoseok said, coming over to kneel at your feet holding your knees softly. "Tell me what made you so upset."

“I was thinking about her first Christmas and her first birthday and how you would all be here and she would be loved and…” Taking a sniff and pushing the tears from your eyes you looked up at them seriously. “You can never leave now, we are going to be one big family. I hope you know you are now each my daughter's uncles and therefore responsible to attend events. If you didn’t want to be a part of the family, I am sorry you are now my family.”

More tears shook your form. “You're the only family I have, I wasn’t exactly disowned more than I left when my mother told me not to have my sweet daughter. My precious baby deserves a big happy family and so I am sorry you are stuck with me. 

“And don’t even think you are getting out of it.” You pointed at Taehyung and Jungkook, “You are my family now. Seonhee needs lots of uncles to protect her.”

“We aren’t leaving,” Seokjin grinned, taking a turn holding the wiggling bundle, smiling for a picture, and looking at her. “She will be a heartbreaker.”

~

The first couple of weeks were a learning curve filled with broken sleep, reheated meals courtesy of Seokjin, and constant fatigue looming over your head. Jimin appeared one-afternoon Taehyung, Namjoon and Yoongi apprehended your daughter. Settling her into a baby carrier strapped to Namjoon’s chest. The thick bodyguard looked a little silly with a tiny child nestled against his pecs.

Seonhee was wearing a new outfit from her uncle Jimin. It was a sweet-footed onesie with bear ears warm enough for a day out in the park. Kicked out of the house by Jimin who stressed how much you needed a break. Hoseok was at work while you were still on leave which meant you took the larger portion of the home and baby duties.

Mostly because you were at home all day, but also not wanting to interfere with his sleep schedule seeing as he was going to an actual job that needed proper attention. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation from Jimin as he dragged you into the bathroom and started the bath filling it with a generous amount of bubble bath. It was the sleepy-time product you had chosen for your baby, emitting a soft lavender scent.

“You relax and I will wash your hair.” He smiled and he massaged your scalp to help relieve any tension, after washing out all your hair products he took your skincare products letting you lay in the bubbles as he pampered you. “You are such a good mum, you are doing amazing.”

“I hope so,” you yawned.

You stepped out of the tub, quickly wrapping yourself into the fluffy robe you hadn’t used in a while. Then sat down on your bed whilst Jimin dried and styled your hair. The others had returned, poking their heads into the room and smiling at your new refreshed look. You quickly fed your daughter while Jimin braided your hair securely.

“You rest okay, we will watch her until Hoseok comes home. Don’t worry we will come to you if we are unsure about anything and for food times.” Yoongi said playing some soft tranquil music on the small speaker by your bed. 

It seemed pointless. Laying there believing it impossible to fall asleep. As you walked past the clock reading half-past one, your stomach rumbled in a gentle protest. Before you could even think of the food you wanted to get dressed, pulling on a white crop top and a baggy overall dress. Something easy to breastfeed in. It was definitely time as your breasts were heavier with milk.

Walking out you poured yourself a glass of juice and scooped up your fussing daughter, stomach growling again. Yoongi stood up marching into the kitchen, rapidly chopping ingredients. Soon the house was filled with a savory aroma and the glorious sound of oil sizzling. 

~

Hoseok was having his first afternoon with Seonhee. You were going for a checkup. Jungkook was free and agreed to accompany you to your appointment, he almost paled when he saw the equipment on the table for your checkup. It made for a good laugh and endless teasing during your small coffee date afterward.

Jungkook’s phone buzzed and he grinned texting back quickly. “Ooh, what or who is making you smile so big?”

“Uh, I just got a funny text from Namjoon. Apparently, Hoseok asked for company so Namjoon and Yoongi stopped by the house after their errands.” He laughed, nose scrunching showing off his front teeth. “And well, your daughter may have accidentally had a poo explosion. So far from the pictures I have seen, Yoongi and Hoseok are covered in it. And while trying to help Namjoon dropped a whole bottle of baby powder and they are vacuuming the carpet.”

“Jimin and Taehyung agreed to pick up some more and I have been asked to keep you busy,” Your smile growing the more you heard, of course, they would make a mess on your first day out. Expecting something chaotic to happen but never something as funny as this. 

“I am just glad it is something like this and not that someone is sick or hurt,” You smiled while eating a strawberry cheesecake and sipping coffee. Not making any move of leaving early and relieving them of their duty. It was a right of passage and showed just how much you trusted them. Hearing that something happened and not jumping to take over.

“They said not to tell you, but how could I not?” Jungkook turned his phone showing you some photos worthy of scrapbooking, the kind you would take out for Seonhee’s twenty-first and a story she would get sick of hearing at every family gathering. “Look at them.”

“Well while they are busy, how about we go grocery shopping? I think perhaps we can make something delicious for dinner,” Standing and collecting your jacket from your chair, and leading the way. Jungkook followed listening to your concerns about your weight and figure, he assured you how good you were looking and even offered to personally train you at 21, the gym.

~

Seonhee was growing steadily. Each milestone leading into the next, she would roll over and had started to crawl. Finding herself putting things she shouldn’t in her mouth. Going back to work was hard for the first few days, leaving Seonhee at the daycare was easy but she became more clingy when she came home. It was her way of coping with the separation that came with daycare and full-time work but eventually, Seonhee got into a routine.

Understanding that her parents were always coming back made everything in the house run a lot smoother. She had a small handful of sounds, mostly eomma, appa. 

Work was a lot more tolerable and dare you to say fun. Jimin had quit his sugar baby gig and joined the company working alongside you. Sure he had broken a few hearts by canceling his service but he was happier. He never explicitly said it but you believed he was trying to be more independent and above everything else make himself more approachable to Taehyung.

Taehyung however left for a while, he had been away working with a few celebrities and luxury brands, photographing concepts, photos, and more. He had been pushing and working harder and harder as the days passed until he traveled away for his latest project. 

It was a little sad that they weren’t together but you could see the longing in Jimin’s eyes whenever he replayed Taehyung’s Instagram story. Dragging him from his desk to have lunch together and distract him from the thoughts spinning around in his head.

~

December marked eleven months since Seonhee was born. Cruising against the couch and cabinets opening things she shouldn’t. You had invested in baby locks and a small playpen. Neither really did much as she knew how to push the whole contraption across carpet and tiles to get into things. 

Mostly she would follow you to the kitchen hoping to get teething biscuits or any other treats her father would sneak her. He was never able to say no and you often found them sneaking snacks together where he would give you his big eyes and pouty lips claiming that she deserved a snack.

Christmas had your house filled to the brim with presents and boys, Seokjin was cooking in the kitchen with Yoongi’s help while Jimin and Jungkook were playing with Seonhee. Hoseok was helping Namjoon into a Santa costume in the backyard. No one had heard from Taehyung. You assumed he was busy with work and that he would be unable to make it.

There was a knock and Jungkook raced to answer it and laughed, “Finally, I thought you were skipping out on the family Christmas.”

“I wouldn’t skip out on the family Christmas, you are my favorite family,” Taehyung said handing over a suitcase to Jungkook and carrying in some bags of wrapped gifts, placing them under the tree. “Look at you, you have gotten so big!”

Namjoon Santa came in and delivered gifts and ran off getting changed only to come back and watch the gift unwrapping. Jungkook went to collect the two eldest from the kitchen, pushing Seokjin before dragging Yoongi out the two stopping in the archway.

“Hey, you are under the mistletoe!” Jimin giggled, proud that his trap had worked, he was hoping that some people would get stuck under it. “You are going to have to kiss.”

“We don’t have to, we are watching Seonhee open her gifts,” Jungkook said only to be grabbed by Yoongi who kissed the younger male and pulled away.

“Satisfied.” Yoongi turned back to the young girl opening her presents, Namjoon got her some picture books and a few educational toys. Seokjin had wrapped a small toy kitchen that was her size. Yoongi brought her to everyone’s surprise a little clam pool and some plastic toys to play with.

Jimin brought her a whole lot of princess dresses, tiaras, and fairy wings. Jungkook got her a cozy coupe red and yellow plastic car that she could push around with her legs. Taehyung handed her the small gift bag and inside was a night light that made the roof look like a galaxy and played soft music.

After Seonhee’s gifts from the boys, Hoseok brought out a box. He was struggling with it but when he opened it out popped a little dog who began licking her cheeks and wagging his tail intensely amongst the large group. “His name is Mickey.” Hoseok grinned watching Taehyung taking pictures and smiling fondly as she giggled.

Other gifts were exchanged, the most notable was Seokjin giving everyone matching sweaters with his face on it, and Taehyung’s gift to Jimin. It was a small bag and inside was the signature Tiffany blue colored box.

“You didn’t have to,” Jimin said softly and Taehyung smiled.

“I told myself I would support you, and I know you didn’t want to be treated like a sugar baby, I just told myself that I wouldn’t allow myself to date until I got you those earrings you really wanted. I wanted to give you something you could be proud of.” Taehyung explained, “And it was so hard to resist you when you kept inviting me over.”

Opening the box Jimin saw the earrings he had once mentioned ages back, the exact earrings Taehyung had handmade for him. “Now you can get rid of the ones I made you, they look horrible compared to these.

“I still love the ones you made and I will keep them forever.”

“I won’t treat you like a sugar baby anymore, I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to go on a date.”

“Well, these earrings will get you about five dates.” Jimin giggled cheekily

“Five I thought for sure it would be five and a half?”

“Five and a free butt grab?”

“Deal!”

~

The nine of you were walking through the kid's attractions at the theme park seeing some familiar faces, you were having lunch when some music started playing. It was the theme park's dance parade and Hoseok was dragged into the dance by Taeyong.

You were giggling when WinWin dragged you up dancing with you and turned to see Hoseok on one knee, a ring box opened in his hands. You felt your chest about to explode as you tackled him to the ground sobbing in his chest. “Hoseok really, you mean it?”

“Of course, I mean it, I have loved you for years.”

“I love you so much, hell freaking yes put that ring on me, quick quick.” You kissed his face nonstop giggling between your tears. He was finally able to get the ring onto the designated finger standing and pulling you onto your feet. He kissed you passionately, you pulled back burying your face in his chest squealing.

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[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader: Apocalypse - Ch 9

I'm running out of chapters that I've written, uhoh. Looks like I have hunker down and really write again.

-

You looked at Loki, then back to Tony, then did a double take and winced, “Surprise?”

“Honestly, this would happen to me.” Tony shook his head. “Really. I was having a relatively normal day in the face of an apocalypse, and now my cousin shows up with one of the Asgardians. Great. We haven’t seen Thor in ages, and just, boom. Out pops Loki. That is absolutely what I needed.” Tony started nodding as he spoke. “So what are you doing here Rock of Ages? Are you behind this weather? Global conquest, being a little shit, just ruining humanity’s day, killing for fun,” Tony held out his hand towards you, “What is that thing on his neck, did you capture him? Why are his eyes covered? Good job if so.”

“Well if you took a minute to stop talking, he could answer you.” You replied coolly.

“Is that thing on his neck the reason you wanted the cutter? Because nope, no thank you, whatever it is, it’s staying on. It looks like it’s,”

Loki stepped forward and pulled off the gauze. It wasn’t a normal step, it was a threat.

Tony looked at him and his Ironman gloves came on, hands at the ready, “Back off, I will shoot.”

“Has it occurred to you,” Loki sneered, “that things have not changed between myself and humanity since we last saw each other?”

Tony blinked taking in Loki’s eyes, “Uh, what’s up with,” he waved his hand in front of his own eyes.

“I wouldn’t know.” Loki replied, his voice colder than the outside, “I can’t see.”

“That’s part of why I asked you to come.” You piped up timidly.

Tony looked between the two of you, confusion scrambling his features.

“Please can I have the cutter?” You asked, reaching your hand out towards Tony, “look at him, those spikes are digging into his skin, he’s bleeding constantly.”

“Maybe he deserves it.”

Loki rolled his red eyes. “Oh yes, my loving father, torturing me continuously, I’m sure you would agree given your history with your oh so wonderful father.”

Tony clenched his jaw, “What do you know about my father?”

“I know a great many things about all of the Avengers. You will recall my time on Midgard when…” Loki paused and picked at his hand, “I was not quite myself.”

Tony laughed sarcastically, “Yea, we remember.”

You interjected, “And we also remember how you heroically died trying to kill Thanos.”

Loki looked up from the vague direction of his palm where he had bowed his head slightly, his blank eyes searching for your voice.

“And all the other Avengers are no saints by their own standards either, they’ve had their crimes they’ve committed in order to do good, or to come back from it and turn their lives around. Surely everyone deserves a second chance, no?” You elbowed Tony.

“He’s had his second chance.” Tony grumbled.

“When he died stopping dark elves from invading earth?” You offered.

“Ok, hello, since when are you so knowledgeable in all things Loki?”

“I talked to him, you should try it some time. When he was recovering, asked him about his life. You know, when you ask people about what they’ve been through, really listen, sometimes they share things. You could stand to learn a thing or two about people around you.” You narrowed your eyes at Tony.

Loki stood there unmoving.

“Fine! Fine! Throw in with him, betray humanity, I’ll have nothing to do with it. Take the damned cutter, but we’re hunting you down as soon as I leave. This is the last we speak.”

Loki sighed, “You really are an imbecile, Stark. Is your pride so great?”

“What?” Tony rounded on Loki, pointing a finger at him, though it had no effect.

“The monsters you humans need fear are frost giants. Those are what are hunting you in droves, and if I would stand to guess, I imagine they brought some of their beasts along as well.” Loki replied, crossing his arms.

Tony looked at you then back to Loki.

“That’s the information we were going to give you in exchange for the cutter.” You said, holding your hand out palm up.

Tony slowly set the cutter in your palm. “Expand.”

“Your cousin and I were attacked in a produce store by three of them. I am… not at my best at current, and they got the jump on me. They are also enhanced by some means, their weapons are different than normal Jotun weapons.”

“Which means?” Tony asked.

“That even if I were at my full power, healing my vision wouldn’t be a possibility. They’ve used ancient magicks, magick that goes back into the depths of time. It is very difficult to learn such techniques.”

You furrowed your brow, “Why didn’t you learn it?”

“Surely Doctor Strange would know it then?” Tony asked.

Loki sighed, “I’m very young, it takes centuries to learn and master, one has to commit fully to it. I have been working on other magical practices, so such things fell to the side.”

“You got a physics degree instead of a mathematics?” You offered.

“Essentially.” Loki turned in Tony’s direction. “That half rate sorcerer would not even know of such magick. What he knows is from books, and mostly books on Midgard. No, you need to travel the cosmos to learn this, even if he still had the time stone he would need to know where to travel, where to look, who to ask, what to seek.”

“Oh.” Tony leaned over towards you and muttered, “he’s still arrogant as hell, you really let him sleep with you?”

“Fuck, Tony, we shared a bed, and he can hear you.” You cried out, shoving Tony away. Though you were too busy to notice the pink on Loki’s face.

“Ok so fine, fine. What’s the creepy collar thing for then?” Tony asked.

“I’d rather not say until it’s off,” Loki paused, “If it can be taken off.”

“Fine, god of lies. Have at it, cousin.”

You stepped forward and gripped the collar carefully, looking at Loki’s face intently. Unbidden, Loki’s hand reached up to grip your arm. You could feel his warm breath on your face as you looked up at him. Your eyes lingered on his thin, pale lips, his square chin and sharp nose and cheekbones. Trying not to bite your lip, you whispered, “Do you trust me?”

You could see Loki swallow before he replied, “Yes.”

Pressing the cutter on, you held it to the metal. A thin beam of energy passed between the two prongs at the end of the red tube. The cold metal hissed and screamed as the energy beam pressed against it, your hand vibrating dangerously. Loki reached up and gripped your hand, steadying it.

“Easy, love. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.” Loki murmured, the disappointment evident in his voice.

You pressed against the metal harder. The tool screeched and shook violently, threatening to slide up and down the metal columns of the collar but you held fast with Loki’s help. Your heart pounded in your chest, you knew it was going to give, you just knew it, and you knew if you pressed in on the metal too hard, it would give and your hand would fly through and strike Loki in the throat.

Pulling your hand back, you tried to keep it in place, just enough that the beam would eat through the metal but not move forward. The beam was so bright, you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t, you had to be sure you did this right.

One final ear-wrenching screech and your hand shot forward. Lightning fast, you snapped the tool off, succeeding in only grazing Loki’s throat and leaving a mark resembling a small hickey.

You let out a soft gasp of relief.

Loki pulled his hand away from yours, feeling the broken metal. He had cried out softly at the burn but compared to other pain he had felt, it may as well have been a curling iron. The tool cooled fast for safety reasons. Loki touched the cut part that slid down, one side no longer digging into his throat. With a mixture of giddy relief, he laughed.

Tony leaned around and saw the cut metal, “Well not bad me.” He squinted at the mark on Loki’s neck.

You narrowed your eyes and held up the cutter.

Tony opened his mouth to say something.

You cut him off with an angry look and mouthed, “Don’t.” Then you turned back to Loki, “How are you feeling?”

“I believe as long as it’s on me it’s going to keep working.” Loki sighed, “assuming taking it off even works.”

“Well, hey, even if it doesn’t help, at least you’ll be able to move.”

“Yes, thank you.”

And so the process continued, this time with the one by his chest. You wanted to delay the one under his chin as long as possible since it was so close to skin. Even as fast as you moved, that one would burn the bottom of his throat in a long strip before you could turn it off.

“Can you put like any nanites or something to protect him, Tony?” You asked as you struggled with the lower bar. “The last one is going to be nasty if not.”

“You know? I probably could.” Tony said thoughtfully. “But you owe me.”

“I assume you want to know what this contraption does.” Loki replied dryly.

“Bingo.”

“It makes me mortal.”

“Wait what?” Tony blanched, “Woah now, cousin, wait a minute, I don’t think cutting that off is the right idea.”

The lower bar snapped, the cutter shot forward and just in time you managed to only lightly singe Loki’s armor.

“We had a deal, Tony.” You growled.

“Nonbinding contract, oral agreements aren’t technically legally binding.” Tony replied.

Loki narrowed his eyes, looking slightly to the right of Tony. “Even without my sight and powers I am plenty lethal.”

“Yes well, I like my odds way more if you can’t go around using magic and surviving explosions and like fifty foot drops.”

“Tony! We had a deal!” You slapped Tony’s chest.

Tony looked at you stunned. “Did you just hit me?”

“Loki has been nothing but kind to me throughout the entirety of me knowing him.”

“Minus the murder of eighty-six people in a SHIELD bunker and two-hundred fifty or so people in New York plus billions in property damage.”

“As I recall, the SHIELD bunker was your director’s doing, he was the one playing with the tesseract, attempted to bury me in a last ditch attempt to stop me from escaping, failed and blamed it on me. And while I did hurt some people in New York, I do apologize for that, I wasn’t quite myself but that is neither here nor there. How is your Hulk, did the civilians he traumatized appreciate him? And the chitauri which you by now know wasn’t me. In fact, if the Hulk hadn’t shown up, you might have been better off, given the sheer amount of damage he added to the wreckage.”

Tony opened and closed his mouth pointing a finger at Loki.

“I assure you, whatever gesture you’re making at me is wasted.”

“Fine, you can use my nanites.” Tony grumbled. “You fell hard for this guy, huh?”

“That is none of your business and neither here nor there.” You huffed. As you turned back to Loki, a lingering ghost of a smile stayed on his face.

Then the nanites were on his throat and you began to cut.

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 4

Word Count: 5,762

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning and Pens

Notes: This part got a little crazy...haha! We have a lot of players involved this time, so I hope you guys like it. Feedback is always welcome. Happy Reading!!!

Day three and four in the bubble were sedate. There were a few minor glitches here and there, but not any brawls or fighting, and you weren't thrown in the pool again. You chalked it more up to the fact that the teams were practicing more and watching films so there was a bit less downtime. After breakfast on day five, you made your rounds, making sure that the conference rooms were cleaned to perfection for the lunch crowd and doing the same with each workout room. Though the latter was a bit more complex considering most of them were occupied.

Once you found everything under control, you headed over to the tennis courts and found Sidney Crosby playing on the one court with a couple of his teammates. It felt kind of wrong to just stand there and watch him, but you couldn't help yourself. He had on a pair of black sweats and a grey Pens t-shirt that clung to his body from where he was working up a sweat. His locks were shorn as if he had just gotten them cut before coming in the bubble. Every muscle was defined as he would swing the racket and connect with the ball. Automatically, your eyes went to his ass, which was just sheer perfection and you longed to feel his glutes under your fingertips. There was part of you that wished he was wearing shorts so you could appreciate his thighs as well. Your eyes followed every move that he made, every swing of the racket; step of that he took. It made you weak in the knees and your mouth go dry.

 You tried concentrating on the other players, Letang, Hornqvist, and Petterson, but your eyes always came back to Sid. It's been five days in the bubble and you'd yet to get Sid alone, as he was always surrounded by teammates or coaches. You were going to have to do something soon, for there was always the chance they could end up losing in the qualifying rounds. You waited until they finished, then grabbed the fresh pile of towels that were sitting on the outside table, and decided to take them inside the court. They normally stayed outside, but it wouldn't hurt for them to be inside the court. They were just walking out, and you used your ass to open the door, making as if you didn't know they were coming out. As the door open, you stumbled forward, only to have Sid's strong arms grab you. "Oh sorry, I didn't realize anyone was there?" You told him.

 "No, it's my fault, I should've been paying attention instead of chirping these two," Sid said, his arms still around you.

 "Anyone need a towel?" You offered with a smile and only then did his hands come off your waist, so he could grab one. The other three did as well and soon you only had a couple left. "Everything fine with your stay here?"

 "Oh yeah, we always love staying here," Sid commented and the other three agreed.

 "Whoever put these tennis courts in was a genius," Letang added.

 "Thanks, I'll be sure to mention that you appreciate my ingenuity to my bosses when I talk to them."

 "No way, it was your idea?" Sid seemed impressed and you didn't mind taking the credit since the courts had been your idea when they decided to build this hotel.

 "I've been affiliated with the company for a while, and had a lot of ideas for when we built this place."

 "No wonder they put you in charge of the place for this whole thing. You've really done an awesome job." The compliment from Sid had you blushing.

 "Thank you, if there's anything at all you need; don't hesitate to call me." You made sure that you looked Sid in the eye as you said that. Letang elbowed him at your insinuation.

 "We'll meet you upstairs," Hornqvist stated then patted Sid on the shoulder and the three left the two of you alone.

 It was a bit awkward at first, but then you broke the silence. "So are you missing Pittsburgh at all?"

 "Nah, not really. It was kind of boring quarantining alone. This is a nice change of pace." Well, at least you had your answer about if he had anyone waiting at home for him. "Are you into architecture that you had this idea of the tennis courts?"

 "I took a few classes in college. I find it intriguing. I'm by no means an architect but I have great ideas." Well, that sounded a bit conceded. "I mean, I'd like to think they are great at least."

 "Architecture has always fascinated me as well. What else did you do here?"

 "Well, the rooftop pool was, though that took a little bit of engineering. I just loved the idea of having it up there. We ended up sacrificing the indoor part to have it, but I think it was totally worth it." It was definitely a highlight of the hotel, well as long as you weren't being shoved into by a certain rat player.

 "Oh, it's definitely beautiful. I'd love to see something like this in Pittsburgh, maybe we can steal you away from here and get you to think up something for us." A cute little smirk appeared on his face and you wanted to kiss him so bad. What was it about this man that just made you weak? You'd only ever felt this way around one other guy, but that wasn't what you wanted to think about now.

 "Well, I'm sure you could persuade me if you wanted to."

 "Really?" Sid didn't seem so unaffected by you as Tyler assumed. Apparently, hockey wasn't the only think on his mind.

 "Yes, in fact…"

 "(Y/N), I need you in the kitchen it's an emergency." Logan said breathless, as he came rushing into the tennis court.

 "Sounds like you're needed," Sid stated grabbing the door and holding it open for you. "I'll let you go."

 You were seriously going to murder Logan, especially if this was like the towel incident. "Yeah, I should probably go, but if you need anything call me." You rushed out to follow Logan, plotting the many ways to kill him on your way to the kitchen. It had better be on fire. When you walked into the kitchen things seemed under control. "What seems to be the problem, Logan? Things look fine."

 "Oh, they're not though. Chef said that no one brought in the dirty dishes from conference room two and now we don't know if we'll have enough plates for lunch." If Logan made it out of the bubble alive, it would be a damn miracle.

 "Sorry (Y/N), I thought when I told him that he would go get the dishes and not you."

 "It's ok Marco." You told the chef, before turning to Logan. "Could you please go get the dishes, then bring them in here and wash them." You tried to spell it out as best you could for the kid.

 "Yeah, sure I can do that. Don't know why I didn't think of that before." You didn't know why he didn't either, but he had just effectively ruined your opportunity with Sid. At least you were able to lay the foundation so that hopefully the next time you saw him, you'd be a bit more successful. Logan scurried out of the kitchen and Marco again apologized for not being more specific with the young pup.

 Marco told you he'd keep a better eye on Logan the rest of the day so that you wouldn't have to worry about him, and you thanked the chef and went on your way. The rest of the day went pretty easy. You tried to look for Sidney but seemed to just miss him, so you called it a night and went to your suite to get ready for bed. You were just slipping out of your skirt when the phone rang. "Hey Car, I was just going to grab a glass of wine and head to bed. What's up?"

 "Well, there's a little congregation in conference room one. It's not out of hand or anything, but they really shouldn't be in there since it's all ready for breakfast."

 "So tell them to move to their floor."

 "You know me Y/N, I'm chicken shit around these guys." It was true Carly was used to saying yes with being a concierge and most of her dealing were on the phone and she could get what she wanted that way but face to face, she found it hard to say no, or in this case move somewhere else. "Besides, I don't think they're all from the same team."

 "Ok, I'll be down in a minute." You threw on an oversized shirt and leggings and headed down to the conference room. You were surprised to see that two members of the Flyers and two from the Penguins were playing cards. It was common knowledge that the two teams were rivals, but they seemed to be enjoying the game. Well, you could hear some chirps back and forth but it seemed to be in fun. "Hey guys, I hate to break up this party but you can't be in here."

 "Aww, come on, we promise to keep the fighting to a minimum." Carter Hart said with a cute innocent little look on his face and it reminded you that Tyler said to keep away from him and not corrupt the boy.

 "Seriously Y/N, it's all in good fun," Brandon Tanev echoed and you really started to wonder if everyone in this damn place knew your name. "Hayes and I have a long-standing game from when we both played for the Jets. Thought we'd get these two involved in it since we're all here."

 "I don't care if you guys play. You just can't play here." You told them as you took in the money laid out on the table as well as the hand that Hart had. You wanted to tell him to fold for his hand was shit.

 "Well, there's nowhere else this time of night." Zach Aston-Reese chimed in. He had a point, most of the common areas closed at this time of night.

 "So like what are we talking, only a few more hands, or is this some all-night game, because I may have an alternative."

 "Not all night, we've got a game in the morning." Kevin Hayes said reminding you that the two played each other in exhibition tomorrow.

 "And no one's going to flip a table or throw a punch?" Your question was definitely valid, considering how'd you seen the two teams go at each other on the ice.

 "Scouts honor," ZAR stated, though you didn't see his fingers crossed behind his back.

 "Fine, come with me." They got up and followed you out of the room. You stopped and grabbed Carly. "Are you coming?"

 "Where? And why?" She said as you grabbed her hand and pulled her along to the elevators.

 "My room and for moral support." Once inside you pressed the twenty-ninth floor. The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor first. You crossed your fingers in hopes that whoever was getting on wouldn't question the odd mix of people in it.

 Unfortunately, you had no such luck as Brayden Point, from Tampa Bay, got on, and the first thing out of his mouth was, "Umm, what's going on here?"

 "Nothing," was what came out of your mouth. While at the same time Carter Hart said, "We're playing poker."

 "Poker? You got room for another?" Point asked and it was easier to tell him yes then have him make a scene. Thankfully, you made it to your room without any more stops along the way. "Wow, nice setup you got here." Brayden let out with a low whistle.

 "Thanks, there's no poker table but you're more than welcome to use the dining room table to play. As long as you're here do you guys want anything to drink?"

 "Tell me you have alcohol?" Kevin asked as beer was kind of at a premium in the bubble. They didn't want the players partying too much so it wasn't as readily available as they would've liked.

 "Sure that's smart with games tomorrow?"

 "One isn't going to kill us," Tanev remarked and you supposed as long as they didn't get drunk it was fine.

 "I have beer and wine. Who wants what?" Four of the guys chose beer with Carter choosing water. Which was probably a smart choice considering he was probably the starting goalie for the game. Carly went into the kitchen to help you get drinks, claiming a glass of wine for herself.

 "You sure this is a good idea Y/N?"

 "No, but what's the alternative, have them cause a riot in the lobby where everyone can see?" Carly shrugged her agreement. "At least here we can control them a little bit." Or so you hoped.

 You headed back to the dining room, drinks in hand. "You two want in on the action?" ZAR asked, which was nice of him.

 "I'm sure the sakes are a little too rich for our blood," They were Carly's words but you had to agree with her.

 "We don't have to play for money," Kevin suggested and you raised an eyebrow at him. "You know strip poker and all." Part of you started to wonder if they had made this plan before they even started to play in the conference room. You wouldn't put it past them. All eyes turned to you and Carly, and you turned to her with a shrug as if to say your call. You knew she hadn't had any fun yet in the bubble, well at least not like you had.

 "Alright gentlemen, deal us in." You took a seat between Tanev and Hayes; while Carly sat between ZAR and Point. Hayes declared himself the designated dealer for the first round, saying that you'd be playing a basic five-card draw game, and that winner could choose two players to lose an article of clothing, instead of all six individuals losing clothes. He then proceeded to deal out the first hand. Best you had was a pair of nines, so you tossed in the three cards that were pointless in hopes of gaining something that would help you out. You did pick up a pair of twos but you really didn't think two pair, nines high were going to win you anything. And you were right as Point ended up having three of a kind.

 "Y/N and Carly have to lose a piece." He declared.

 "Look I have no problem stripping but if you seriously pick the two of us every time, I'm calling an end to the game and you can all go back to your rooms." You said before stripping anything off your body.

 "That's only fair," Tanev agreed. "From now on you can only ask one of the girls to take something off." It seemed a fair addendum to your original rules, which seemed to be nonexistent before this moment.

 You stripped off your shirt and Carly did the same. Carter's eyes popped out of his head as he took in your lace bra and you realized that Tyler was right; he was way too innocent for the rest of the guys at this table or even you and Carly for that matter. Hopefully, Hayes would send him off to bed before things got too out of control. "If I didn't know better I'd swear you both wore those bras on purpose," Hayes commented and you let your hand glide up his thigh before answering him.

 "Maybe we did." You gave his thigh a little squeeze and saw him jump a bit, which caused you to giggle. "Now I believe it's my turn to deal." He handed over the cards. The round went quick and thankfully Carly came out on top, so you knew that you were safe this time.

 "Point it's payback time."

 "Gladly," he announced before throwing off this t-shirt.

 "You too Brandon. Might as well be both the B's" You caught a whiff of Tanev's cologne as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. His scent seemed to be a mix of sandalwood and something purely masculine, it was intoxicating and you found yourself getting damp just thinking about what the two of you could get up to. The six-pack he sported on his abdomen didn't help your wondering thoughts any.

 "My turn," he said, palm upturned for you to place the cards into them. The smirk on his face told you, you'd been caught staring, and you handed the cards over in a hurry with a discreet cough. The third round had Carly winning again and you were hoping she was on some kind of hot streak.

 "Hayes and ZAR, you're up." She stated matter of factly and the two men divested of the shirts, leaving Carter the only one fully clothed. "I mean you're welcome to join them, Hart, if you feel left out." He simply shook his head no. "I really think you need a beer to loosen up." Carly was right and you walked out to the kitchen to grab him one. He took a long swallow and it seemed to help him a bit.

 The next round had Carter winning and the poor boy seriously looked confused about who he should choose. "It's easy Hart, pick one of the girls and one of us," Brayden told him.

 "I know," Carter said indignantly as his eyes moved back and forth between you and Carly. He seemed completely torn and part of you just wanted to take off your leggings and put the boy out of his misery, but just then he finally made a decision. "Carly, since you've been winning it's only fair." She gave him a little wink before wiggling out of her bottoms and tossing them to the floor with her shirt. Carter's eyes bugged out as he took in her thong and you heard a low whistle from Point right before she sat down.

 The deck was moved to the next person and cards were dealt. It was hard to hide your smile when you were dealt with three aces, and you were fairly confident you'd win this round; it just so happened you did. You had five guys to choose from and it was a difficult decision, but you really wanted to see what Brandon was hiding underneath his shorts, so it was a no brainer in choosing him. It was the other one that you were debating on. Tapping your finger on your chin, you mulled over your choices. "Brandon and ZAR, time for those pants to go." The problem was you didn't know which way to look. ZAR pulled the fly down on his just as Brandon yanked his down drawing your attention. There was no disguising the bulge in Tanev's boxers and you wet your lips without even thinking. He caught your attention and you swore you saw his cock twitch, but then ZAR's bottoms were falling and you took a moment to appreciate him. Both men were well-endowed and you couldn't wait to see what was underneath their boxer briefs.

 Cards were dealt again and when you looked over at Carter, you noticed the beer you got him moments ago was gone. That wasn't a good sign. Both you and Carly lost this time, with Carter coming out ahead. He looked a bit woozy after downing that beer so quickly and didn't seem to realize he'd won until Hayes pointed it out. "Hayes and Point..." he stated and before he could say anything more; all four guys were breathing down his neck.

 "What the hell?" you weren't sure who said it but it was echoed by all the guys, and you snickered before saying. "He's made his decision boys, now lose the pants."

 "But I meant to ask which one I should pick." Hart protested.

 "Too late," Carly chimed in a satisfied smile on her face. They both dropped their drawers then, each man sporting a hard-on that was outlined by the cover of their underwear. "I need more wine," Carly said and you could tell her mouth had gone dry from checking both men out.

 "Grab us another as well, would ya?" You gave Hayes a look, making sure that this was a good decision as you made your way to the kitchen. "It's fine. I swear this is the last one."

 This time Carly left you to fend for yourself as she didn't want to prance around in her thong. You were rummaging through the fridge and pulled out the five beers that you needed when Brandon came into the kitchen. "Need some help?" There was that cute little smile on his face and you returned it with one of your own.

 "That would be nice." The kitchen wasn't large and he reached around you to grab a beer that you had on the counter, effectively trapping you against it. His body was pressed against yours and you could feel his cock hard against your stomach. Your breath hitched and before you could say anything his lips were on yours. You opened right away for him as his tongue sought entrance into your mouth. Brandon was a good kisser and you found yourself reaching around to the back of his neck and pulling him closer.

 "Hey, what's taking so long," someone yelled and you pulled apart from Brandon. "Wanna continue this after the game?" He asked and you nodded your head yes, before grabbing two bottles of beer and the wine and slipping under his arm. You winked at him as you left the kitchen and could've sworn you heard him groan.

 The game started back up and this time ZAR was declared the winner. His eyes raked up and down your body before he said, "(Y/N) it's got to be you." You pushed the chair back then made a show of wiggling out of your leggings, making sure Brandon got an eyeful of your ass before reclaiming your seat. All eyes but Carly's were on you; who coughed discreetly to remind ZAR he still needed to pick someone else. "Oh um, I guess Hart by default." Carter's cheeks got red, as both you and Carly turned your attention to him, though it just seemed sort of wrong since he seemed innocent. He was definitely sporting some wood and from what you could tell he had most of the guys there beat in the length department. He hurriedly sat down as soon as his shorts were off.

 When the game resumed, it was Hayes who had a straight and won the round. "Point, since you joined the game late, I'm going with you." Brayden rolled his eyes but still stripped out of his briefs leaving him completely naked. His dick was average but still nice and you could see Carly squirming in her seat taking him in. You didn't really think Point was her type but then when you'd been in the bubble for a couple weeks like you both had those sorts of things went to the wayside. He seemed to return her interest, for as he reclaimed his seat his eyes never left hers. "(Y/N)," Kevin said bringing your attention back to the fact that you lost. "Lose the bra." You had kind of forgot that Kevin had to name another person, but you should've figured it would be you as you'd teased him earlier when you squeezed his thigh.

 "Fine," you said and you let the strap slink down your right shoulder before drawing your arm through it. You repeated the process with your left, then moved to unclasp the eye hooks in the back. Keeping one hand holding the bra together you let your other slip to the front to hold the cups, before letting the bra go. The cups released into your hands and you slowly peeled it away, teasing the boys as you did, until finally your breasts were revealed. You knew you had nice boobs. It had been commented about by almost every guy you'd ever been with, not to mention the stares you got when wearing a low cut top. Tyler had said on more than one occasion that they were perfect and he could spend hours playing with them. So when the guys' eyes went wide, you weren't surprised. It was Carter's look of shock as he downed the rest of his beer that had you suppressing a giggle. You knew he was innocent but it almost seemed too much for a hockey player to be this inexperienced. You hoped it was just the setting of the game and all. "Ok, now that that's done; on to the next hand." They seemed a bit disappointed that the game was back on instead of just ogling your boobs.

 Brandon dealt the card, the side of his hand accidentally brushing the side of your breast as he dealt you yours. It was hard not to think of the encounter in the kitchen earlier and you kind of wished this game was over and you could move on to bedroom games with Brandon. As the hand went on, you saw Carter sway a bit. "Hey Kev, you better take your goalie back to his room before he's unfit to play tomorrow." They were Points words, but he was absolutely correct as Hart was not looking good to finish the hand let alone the game.

 "Hart, you good?" Kevin asked and Carter made to put his thumb up but couldn't. "Fuck man, you're really one of those, sniff the beer cap drunks, aren't you?" Carter just smiled over. "Alright bud, time to call it a night, before we both regret this; though you owe me. Big time!"

 Hayes threw his clothes back on before tossing Carter's shirt at him, which smacked him in the face. They made their way to the door, Hayes none too happy to be leaving. "Guess this means the game is over." You said thinking to put an end to things around the dining room table and move it to the bedroom with Brandon.

 "What do you mean? It was just getting interesting." Zach pointed out, looking directly at your chest.

 "I gotta agree," Brayden added, looking over at Carly. "I have a good feeling about this next hand."

 "Don't you guys have a game tomorrow?" you asked Tanev and ZAR.

 "Yeah, that's what naps are for," Brandon told you with a little wink. "But I see your point, only a few more rounds than we'll call it a night." He picked up the cards and started to deal. They did not fall your way and this hand saw Point come out on top of everyone, which was lucky considering he was now in his birthday suit.

 "Zach looks like you're up this time." ZAR dropped his drawers without even thinking about it, giving you a nice view of his cock. It was erect, almost pressing up to his stomach. You didn't know if it was the fact that he was hard or not, but his dick was kind of pretty if that was even a thing. He sat back down before you could check it out too long, which was disappointing. Point look at Carly and said, "Your turn." There was a cocky little smirk to his face but as Carly removed her bra, she directed all her attention at Brayden.

 "You two need to get a room," Tanev said off-hand and you saw Carly cock her head as if to ask if he wanted to go to hers. Point nodded a yes, and Carly started grabbing her clothes off the floor.

 "Thanks for the game (Y/N). I'll see you downstairs." She said throwing clothes on and heading for the door. Point right behind her.

 "So, umm…" you hummed, not really knowing what to do now that you had both Brandon and Zach alone.

 "One last hand?" Brandon asked, and you couldn't really see the point of it. "If I win, I get to kiss you."

 "And if I win, I get the kiss." Zach chimed in.

 "And what if I win?" It was a valid question.

 "Then you can pick either one of us or neither of us." Brandon offered.

 "Ok, who's dealing?" You asked with an all-in attitude. ZAR picked up the cards and started to shuffle. You picked up the five cards in front of you, two jacks being dealt. It wasn't a bad start and when you got the redraw there was another one. Brandon laid down his pair of tens first, knowing that he probably wasn't going to win. Zach went next, a smile on his face that told you he'd thought he'd won with his two pair queen high.

 With a satisfied grin, you laid down your winning hand. "Read them and weep boys." They both frowned at you picking up their stuff and got ready to leave, thinking that you'd choose that option. "Oh, neither of you is not my choice." They both looked back at you, a little stunned at your statement.

 "Who's it going to be then?" Zach asked, hand still holding onto his boxers and shorts.

 "What if I say both?" They looked over at each other, a silent agreement passing between the two teammates. You grabbed Brandon's hand, then walked over to take Zach's as well, leading them over to the sofa. They both went willingly, one on each side of you as you stood there. You looked over at Zach first and went up on your toes to give him a heated kiss. He cupped your cheek, drawing you closer to him. Zach was a good kisser and you got lost as your tongue swirled with his, until you felt another pair of hands on your body, starting at your waist and working their way up to fondle your breasts. Brandon twisted your nipples and you moaned into Zach's mouth before breaking apart. Brandon turned your hips so that you were facing him, before threading his fingers through your hair. With hardly any pressure, he had you leaning into him so he could kiss you. Brandon was skilled with his tongue and you melted into him. But it was Zach's cock that pressed against your back that you felt even more. You reached behind you to palm him and he hissed out his pleasure as he dropped kisses to your shoulder blades.

 There were four hands all over your body and you weren't sure who was doing what as you felt someone slide your panties down off your legs. Brandon's mouth left yours, only to move south to your breasts, where he took a nipple in and sucked, eliciting a moan from you. Zach's fingers, at least you thought they were his, were delving between your folds. It was too much and you lost your grip on his cock. Zach pushed a finger inside you while his thumb toyed with your clit. Pleasure ripped through your body, Brandon now switching breast to give your other nipple the same lavish attention. You threw your head back enjoying their ministrations. You missed the communication between the two, but the next thing you knew was that they were lowering you down to the sofa.

 Brandon slid down to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs wide for him to go between, while Zach sat down beside you on the couch. Zach's hand immediately went to the back of your neck so that he could pull you in for yet another heated kiss. Your hands skated down his well-chiseled chest until you found his cock. Wrapping your fingers you began to stroke the length of him and he deepened the kiss.

 It was at that moment that Brandon licked a stripe between your folds. The action causing you to stutter your rhythm on Zach's cock, as your body tingled from Brandon's tongue. Two of Brandon's fingers spread you pussy for his mouth to go to town on you and you found yourself breaking the kiss from Zach. "Fuck Brandon…that feels so good," you moaned out.

 Brandon's mouth worked its magic on you, sucking and nibbling on your clit, before he looked up at Zach. "You have to taste her man, she's so fucking sweet." A quick shift in positions from the two and then it was Brandon's mouth on yours as you tasted your own juices off his lips. His hand found yours and he guided it to his member urging you to stroke him.

 Zach's fingers delved into your cunt, sliding up and down between your folds collecting your moisture. "You're so wet…I just have to taste you." He breathed out before going in with his tongue and licking at your pussy. He hummed out his approval as he continued to eat your out.

 Brandon moved his hands to your breasts, where he pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger causing you to gasp. His head moved down to your other nipple and he gently bit down on the turret peak. You moaned out as that familiar tingle of orgasm started to hit, from the combination of both Brandon and Zach. "Don't stop…" You panted out. "Please don't stop." Zach increased the speed of his fingers as they thrust in and out of you, while his mouth and tongue flicked and sucked your clit. "Oh god…" Brandon bit down on your nipple and it sent you shattering, your legs tightening around Zach as they shook with the force of your climax. "OOOHHH," you exclaimed and you swear your moan echoed off the walls of the suite it was so loud. Both men worked you through your orgasm, a satisfied smile on each when you finally made your way back to them. "That was…" you didn't have time to finish your thought as there was a loud knock at the door.

 "Who the fuck is that?" Brandon asked in a hushed whisper and you honestly had no idea as most of the employees of the hotel would've called your phone and not come knocking at this hour.

 "I know you're in there. I could hear you." The voice said from the other side of the door and suddenly it registered who it was on the other side.

[makkoskafanfic]

KakuHidan WIP fic teaser

This is part of WIP release March! A KakuHidan one for a change.

This is a Maffia - Modern setting AU but with special powers. I planned to write something like this... oh since I first started to ship KakuHidan some 9 years ago, probably. 

The idea came up again as we were rewatching Naruto last year and I got pretty far with it, before we reached the HashiMada arc and of course all the fangirl neurons in my brain got hyperfixated on HashiMada again. 

I have almost 10K words written of it, so I hope to continue one day, and not to let it go to waste. This scene is Kakuzu’s and Hidan’s first meeting. As such I would rate it M (or a strong PG13? I don’t really get the ratings) No sexual themes at this point, but there are a bunch of people getting killed, blood, gore, violence and Hidan’s dirty mouth. 

Strange to say after this, but I had fun writing this, hope you will enjoy.

Kakuzu secured the Harley and looked at the unassuming building he found at the address he was given. While it wasn’t in the best of neighbourhoods, it certainly wasn’t in the worst Konoha City could offer either. A sign in the window announced it was for sale and the faded advertisement above the door let him know it used to be a barber’s shop. All in all, not where he would imagine some crazed prophet performing his homicidal ritual. Well, his source assured him this was the place - the man knew Kakuzu didn’t take disappointment well, so it was unlikely he’d give him anything but a hundred percent confirmed information.

He walked around the building to a small alley packed with overflowing rubbish bins to find the backdoor. He pushed on it and it gave easily - it wasn’t locked.  It opened to a small room that once must have been used by the staff. It was mostly empty now, save for the empty shelves along the walls, a small desk with some old newspapers stacked on it, the large cardboard box underneath it and for the man sitting in an old office chair with one arm broken off. He stood up as Kakuzu entered. He took in his appearance, his leather jacket, his dark jeans, his mid-calf boots, the mask covering the lower half of his face, the biker helmet under his arm and he still somehow came to the wrong conclusion. He was just as tall as Kakuzu and more obviously muscled, which probably gave him a false sense of security.

“Here for a haircut? I’m afraid we’re closed for business.”

“Wouldn’t let you touch my hair,” Kakuzu grumbled. “I’m here for Hidan.”

The man’s eyes cut briefly towards the desk, which told Kakuzu what he needed to know. 

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No? I was told I need to come here to praise Lord Jashin and see the wonders he’s capable of.” He was also told some idiotic password that he didn’t bother to remember.

“The show has already started,” the man sneered at him, “no late joiners allowed.”

“That’s a pity,” Kakuzu took the helmet from under his arm, looked at it pensively for a moment, before smiting the man down with it in a lightning fast movement. There was a sickening, wet thump as it crashed the man’s skull. He wiped the blood off, noticing it got dented with annoyance. This mission was already proving to be a headache. At least there was never a complaint from Pein when he added his extra expenses for his damaged accessories.

He pushed the desk and the box out of the way, uncovering a trapdoor on the floor. A narrow staircase led down into darkness.

“A barber shop with a dungeon,” he muttered to himself as he descended. “What a circus.”

The light seeping down through the open trapdoor quickly dimmed completely as he took on the corridor. Always well prepared, he took a small torch from his inner pocket and switched it on. There were a few side doors, but he didn’t bother with them. As he walked down the corridor, the voices coming from behind the door at the end became louder and louder. He pocketed the torch and slid it open.

The people inside didn’t seem to notice his late entry. Kakuzu did a quick count. There were eighteen of them on the floor, plus two on the low stage - a woman tied to a chair, and the man he recognised as Hidan from what Pein had shown him.

First impressions were important and Kakuzu trusted his instincts. Hidan was loud, foul mouthed as he sprouted his religious nonsense and Kakuzu was taken by the deep intuition that he, for his own peace of mind, had to kill this man. He was trouble. 

He pushed himself through the small crowd, ignoring the men’s protest that he was blocking the view. Just a few feet away from Hidan he took his time to assess his opponent. He was young, just as Pein’s file said, face smooth, his half-naked body well toned. He seemed physically strong with his lean muscles, but not a match for Kakuzu’s own might of course. He was ranting about his Lord Jashin, something about his eternal gift and punishment of heathens… he was damn noisy. His voice was a deep baritone which could have been pleasant if it was quieter and if he wasn’t working himself towards shrill yelling as he got more and more agitated. The people around Kakuzu didn’t mind though - they were murmuring appreciatively, repeating some of the phrases, like “Hail Lord Jashin”, “Bring death and destruction, oh Lord,” “I swear to murder and destroy in your name”.

Kakuzu knew he was supposed to observe the whole ceremony to see the presumed powers of this preacher for himself, but he wasn’t sure he could stand much more of this. He could just shoot Hidan and see if he died or not. Not quite what Pein wanted, but it would do the job, wouldn’t it?

Hidan's eyes swept the crowd during his speech and Kakuzu made the mistake of meeting them. The dark mass was abruptly cut short. The crowd muttered as their leader fell silent, but Hidan ignored them. 

“Looks like we have a heathen, an unbeliever in our midst today!” he glared at Kakuzu, then suddenly laughed, pointing at him. “Kill him my children, let his blood flow freely as it pleases Lord Jashin!”

How the little shit knew instantly, Kakuzu had no time to ponder as the mob closed in on him immediately. Most of them were unarmed, but he spotted a few knives and what looked like a beer bottle broken in half. He kicked the first man who reached him in the stomach so hard he flew away to collide with the edge of the stage. He crumbled to the ground there like a puppet whose strings were cut. That gave him some space to work with.

His opponents were no skilled fighters, so even with their numbers against him, Kakuzu didn’t have a hard time. The magazine of his Sig Sauer held fifteen rounds, almost enough for the whole bunch. Kakuzu never missed a shot - he liked to be effective and he hated anything to go to waste. The rest he took down by bare hands. The men managed to land a few hits, even a couple of stabs, on his arms and chest, which enraged him further. They were ruining a perfectly fine leather jacket. 

He took it off and tossed it aside quickly when the last of his attackers fell to the ground with a smashed-in face. Blood was running down his left arm from a long and shallow cut. There were smaller wounds on his chest, though they were easily to ignore. 

He looked up at the two people on the stage who didn’t join the fight yet. The woman tied to the chair - unconscious, maybe drugged, so no kind of threat, and the annoying preacher. Hidan didn’t seem to be disturbed by the defeat of his followers. He had a long, sharp pike in his hand - he pointed at Kakuzu with it and he grinned.

“Lord Jashin blessed me with glorious destruction today! All this blood and the corpses! Thank you, Lord Jashin! I’m your forever faithful follower and will sacrifice this son of a bitch to you as well! His blood will seal the sacred…”

“Shut up,” Kakuzu cut into this annoying speech, feeling the beginning of a headache forming behind his brows. “One more word of this nonsense and you’ll end up in so many little pieces even your god wouldn’t be able to tell how you looked originally.”

“How dare you interrupt my prayer, you heathen fucker?!” Hidan shrieked at him. “You’ll die in the most glorious agony!” Like the obviously brainless idiot he was, he charged Kakuzu with a shrill battle-cry of “Lord Jashin”, holding his pike in front of him as if he was some misbegotten knight on a tournament.

Kakuzu waited till the last moment before he stepped to the side, grabbed Hidan’s wrist and yanked it above his head. Despite his cruising grip, the priest didn’t drop his weapon. He went fully berserk, getting caught like this. His shoulder gave a sickening, loud pop as it dislocated, but he didn’t seem to notice the pain. He brought both of his legs up and kicked out, aiming at Kakuzu’s crotch. He managed to turn away slightly, but the impact on his thigh and side was still bruising. He grunted in pain, cursed the little shit under his breath and raised him even higher up from the ground. 

Hidan shrieked in indignation and still didn’t let his weapon go. Kakuzu had to give it to him, there was something to be said for his tolerance of pain. He caught the preacher’s free hand as he swung it to claw at his face and took a firm hold on it too. Hidan swore, but was far from giving up.

He bit Kakuzu’s neck in an underhanded move and kicked him in the knees so hard his legs buckled. He allowed them to fall to the ground, pinning Hidan underneath his heavier bulk. He clasped his hands above his head, restraining them and kneeling on his legs to immobilise him fully. The Jashinist screamed vulgarities at him, thrashing wildly as he tried but failed to dislodge Kakuzu.

“Shut. Up” Kakuzu grid out, slightly breathless as he was fighting this utter madman. “You little shit, just stay still for a…”

Hidan spit him in the face, more blood than saliva, barely missing his eye. That did it. 

Stitches came loose on the underside of Kakuzu’s wrists, allowing the secret weapon of his body to burst forward.

“What the fuck…” Hidan gasped as the tentacles wrapped themselves around his neck and squeezed. After that only unarticulated, gurgling sounds left his throat. 

While Kakuzu found satisfaction in defeating his enemies, he always killed because that was his job or because that was the fastest way to achieve his goals and not because it caused him joy. This time however he found immense pleasure in the sudden silence. It was broken by pathetic, wet, choking sounds only, then not even those as Hidan’s lungs ran out of air. His trashing slowly quieted down, but Kakuzu didn’t let go until the last twitches stopped and Hidan’s eyes - a surprising shade of violet, now that he had the chance to see them from close up - rolled up in their sockets. 

He looked quite dead, with the foam in the corner of his open mouth, with his blood everywhere, but Kakuzu checked his pulse before he withdrew his tentacles to be sure. He rolled off from the still body and allowed himself to spread out on his back for a minute. His whole body ached, his clothes were ruined and he was in a foul mood.

“I’ll ask for a pay rise after this,” he muttered to the deadly quiet room. He closed his eyes - only to open them in alarm when he felt movement from next to him. He tried to roll away, but Hidan - magically back from the dead, the pike he never let go throughout his thrashing raised high - was too close. The preacher bore the weapon down, into his heart.

“Take that you rotten bastard,” he cackled and tried to yank the pike free, probably to thrust it through his chest again. Kakuzu grabbed it and didn’t let go. “You can hope they pay well in Hell, but I don’t think Lord Jashin will be kind to a heathen shithead like you! He will torture you for an eternity and reward me, his faithful servant with…”

Kakuzu breathed through the sharp pain, raised his free hand and grabbed his slicked back hair. He sat up and dragged him back, until Hidan didn’t have any other chance but to let his weapon go, if he didn’t want to lose a handful of hair.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch, it hurts you shitty fuck! Let my hair go!”

Kakuzu yanked the metal rod out from his heart, wincing at the pain. He could feel his threads moving under his skin, stitching the gaping would back up. Losing two hearts under a week. Maybe he was getting old. 

“You should be busy being dead,” he told the priest. “And as such not concerned about your hair.”

“Fuck you, my hair looks too good to be touched by the likes of you!”

“It’s a horrible dye. This must have been a shithole of a barber shop.”

“As if you are the one to talk! When did you get a cut last time? Never? And what’s with that fucking mask? Is it the flu season or what?”

“Shut up,” Kakuzu said with resignation as he knew now it was in vain. 

“You shut up. Why are you not dead, anyway?”

“Because we are both out of luck today.”

He stood up and experimentally let Hidan’s hair go. The priest got to his feet as well, examining him with his head tilted to the side. He then looked around the room, at all the scattered bodies lying around and sighed.

“This was the best mass I ever celebrated,” he said dreamily. “Was I mistaken? Are you sent by Lord Jashin?”

“No,” Kakuzu snorted at this absurdity. “I was sent by the Akatsuki. The Leader heard of your special… ability and wanted me to recruit you to our ranks.”

“What the fuck is the Akatuski?”

Kakuzu looked at him silently, pondering the probability of someone living in Konoha and never hearing about its most powerful criminal organisation. Hidan looked honestly clueless. An immortal idiot. Wonderful. 

“A place that would offer someone like you many possibilities. You get jobs done and it will treat you well.”

“I only want to spread the word of Lord Jashin and live to please him.”

“You want people to listen to you? Or you want to kill them? The Akatsuki will help you with both.”

 “Are there more people like you?” 

“There are some… not ordinary people in the organisation,” Kakuzu said carefully. “Though not quite like me.”

“So only me and you are immortal?” Hidan grinned at him. Kakuzu didn’t contradict him - he wasn’t immortal, just very hard to kill, but he didn’t need to give the advantage of knowing that. It seemed he was being successful in his recruitment. He wasn’t quite convinced it was a good thing. “So what now?”

“I am to present you to our Leader in two days. You’ll come with me, so I can keep an eye on you till then.”

Hidan looked around and shrugged.

“It’s not as if I have any followers alive at the moment. I guess I can go and see that Akatsuki bloke with you. Who are you, by the way?”

“I’m Kakuzu.”

“Kakuzu, ehh? Is that a last name or a first name?”

“It’s a name,” Kakuzu snapped irritably. “You can call me by it.”

“All right then, Ka-ku-zu,” Hidan grinned as he dragged his name out in an inane sing-song. “I’m Hidan.”

“I know,” he sighed with resignation. “Go and grab whatever you need and let’s head out.”

Hidan muttered something about his sacrifice and went to finish the woman off, probably. Kakuzu changed the magazine in his gun and made sure that they left nothing but dead bodies behind. They needed no potential eye witnesses. He didn’t bother with cleaning up though - good luck for anyone who tried to find his fingerprints in any recent databases. 

He put on his torn jacket, re-tied his hair in its ponytail and waited impatiently for Hidan. The Jashinist reappeared at last, wearing a hooded coat, but still no shirt and a small backpack.

“I’m ready to embark this new journey Lord Jashin guides me on,” he grinned at him and Kakuzu was quite sure he was just trying to piss him on. He glared at him, but it didn’t intimidate the younger man at all.

“Let’s go then.”

[battletowered]

Anniversary

Headcanon Drabble in Leon’s “ more severe darkest day au ” verse which I’m reposting and bringing forward to this blog from the archive for the anniversary.

TW: Deals with mourning and major character death.

     Leon shifts, rolling over in bed and throwing his arm over his eyes, the first rays of the sun already coming in through his window and shining on his face. There’s a thump and a pattering sound.

      One.... Two…. Three… Four… Fi--

     There’s a trill, and the feeling of a body colliding with his own, forcing the air out of his lungs for a moment. Leon feels a muzzle nosing at the arm over his face, trying to wriggle under the weight of his arm for snuggles.

     “‘M not awake yet.” he whines, though it seems to have very little effect on the excited pokemon squirming on top of him. He sighs affectionately, giving up on the idea of getting any more sleep this morning, instead prying his eyes open and looking down at the clingy flygon that has come to perch on his chest. Leon doesn’t mind it as much as he probably should. Instead he rubs Flygon’s head while he builds up the energy to get up and be productive this morning.

      He’s got a lot on his plate today, after all, it would be naive of him to think that trying to go back to sleep would make that go away. Besides, if Flygon was awake already, that meant that the rest of his pokemon were soon to be up as well. Even Margo peers at him from where she normally slept on the edge of his bed, as if confirming that point. Flygon seemed to punctuate that point by nuzzling at his face more persistently, and Leon laughed drowsily.

     “Alright, alright, I’m up!”

-_-_-_-

     “No, Goodra, I just finished showering.” Leon ducks a slimy kiss as he works on preparing breakfast for his pokemon. He doesn’t have to cook anything (thank god), but Raihan’s pokemon all had a specialized diet and he couldn’t bring himself to change that for them when they came to live with him.

    Goodra bloops at him playfully, and Leon huffs. It was a game they played every morning, where Leon would shower and try to get ready for the day and she’d try to ruin his dress shirt by snuggling him. He ducks through her wet grasp again as he steps around her, and she follows after him, finally taking notice of her breakfast in his hand.

     Once he’s managed to get everyone fed, he opens the rear door to his home and takes a seat at his patio with a cup of tea to wake himself up. He’s been living here for a while now-- it had been maybe six or seven months since he’d signed the mortgage for this place-- but he didn’t think he’d ever quite get over how pretty the property was. It may not have been quite Postwick, but it felt like home-- several acres of land that were open until they met the forested tree line or the corral fencing he’d spent his first weekend here putting up.

     It wasn’t quite Postwick, but it was close, at least. Plus, he was just outside of Wedgehurst, he really was closer to home than he’d ever been. It might have meant commuting to get to work, but it was worth it if for nothing else than the sense of peace it gave him.

     Well. Most days. Today he can’t quite shake the little pit of dread that’s sitting in his stomach.

     There’s a sleepy bleat, and he turns his head in time to see Lanolin. She bleats again, drowsily, and then bumps her head against his, giving him an expectant look. She seems to know that something’s bothering him, and tries to nip at his hair repeatedly until Leon laughs at her insistence. She seems pleased to have gotten whatever result she wanted, and then went bounding off into the yard to graze.

      One thing is for certain, he’s never lonely here. Not the way he had been in Wyndon. His home is always full-- with pokemon and friends and family. It had been entirely overwhelming at first, but overwhelming in the best way possible. A reminder of how loved he was, and he was grateful.

     At this time normally, he’d already be at the Battle Tower, leaving at the crack of dawn to be on time, but on Amelia’s request, he’d taken the day off. The importance of the date hadn’t been lost on her, he’d noted, but she didn’t force him to talk about it, and he appreciated it.

     Things were starting to feel a little more okay, but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about. He was adjusting, he guessed. Or, at least he was adjusting better than he had been before, because his chest didn’t clench painfully every time that he thought about it, now. It was hard to avoid dealing with those feelings when every morning Raihan’s pokemon lived and worked alongside him.

      Leon is too lost in thought to react fast enough when a pair of wet limbs encircle his shoulders, and he shudders as he feels a wet plop against the crown of his head and a contented blurble.

     Goodra wins.

-_-_-_-

     A fresh change of clothes later, and Leon is finally ready to leave the house. He glances out over the yard again, where most of his extended family of Pokemon have gathered and are now sunbathing or playing. He watches Duraludon and Aegislash play-fight for a moment until Margo nudges him and chuffs.

     He pats her cheek, but stares resolutely out the window. Now that it’s come to actually leaving… he’s dragging his feet. Margo seems to be able to tell, and she nudges him and chuffs again, harder this time. He sighs, but nods, finally.

     “Alright, come on girl. It’s going to be a long ride. You ready?” She watches him for a moment, like she’s trying to figure something out, and then shakes out her shoulders and spreads her wings so that he can climb on her back. Leon has no idea what that was about.

-_-_-_-

      It’s surprising how quiet it is. He guesses it’s because, despite showing up later than he did the year before, he’s still pretty early in the morning. There’s already bouquets and balloons, but no people that he can see, and he kind of appreciates it. The gravestone has been cleaned recently, and the two cypress trees which stand next to it have gotten taller-- they’re already taller than he is.

     He tries not to think too hard about that. It reminds him it’s been two years.

     Instead, he sits, and stays for a while. Margo didn’t want to go into her ball, but since she’s not bothering anyone, he doesn’t mind. He lays against her side, tucked under her wing. The sound of pidove cooing and the distant hubbub of Hammerlocke city are almost soothing, and it fills the silence that Leon isn’t sure how to fill himself. At least this year he has enough of a handle on himself that he can bear to actually spend some time at his best friend’s grave.

     He spends an hour and a half. Some people drop by, though most are Raihan’s family coming to pay respects of their own. He trades condolences with some and shares fond memories with others. It’s nice.

     Before he leaves, Leon remembers that he’s brought something of his own as a gift. He pulls a photograph out of his coat’s pocket, protected by a waterproof acrylic frame. Leon pushes the peg down into the ground next to the stone, and then steps back to appraise the photo. He hopes Raihan would be happy to see it. It’s just a photograph of Leon in his yard, the day that Raihan’s pokemon came to live with him permanently. They look happy. Leon has a lot more that he would have liked to have brought, but he figures the grave keepers wouldn’t appreciate having to step around two dozen acrylic photograph holders when they did their rounds. It’s a shame, the picture of Goodra hugging him hard enough to lift him off the ground that Hop too was really cute. Maybe he can bring that one another time.

     Margo pulls him close to her body as they turn to the exit of the graveyard, tucking him underneath a wing in a way that she hasn’t done since he was young. Leon lets her fuss, because he knows she’s only doing it because she’s worried.

     Leon doesn’t feel as bad as he expected to. Maybe because every time he comes here it reminds him how loved Raihan was, and still is, loved. He likes to think that wherever Raihan is now that he knows that.

-_-_-_-

     It isn’t until the flight home that the grief hits him, and when it does, it hits him so hard that he’s suddenly choking around the thickness in the throat and struggling to see as tears cloud his vision.

     Margo senses his distress and brings the both of them down to rest on the ground. They’re halfway home-- she lands in the first clearing she can find and sends several bug pokemon scrambling for the brush in panic when she does. She bellows over her shoulder in concern. Leon’s grip fails him as she shifts to stand a little taller, and he falls into a heap onto the ground, shaking because he feels like he’s not able to get enough air into his lungs.

     He doesn’t know what’s set it off, but he’s so suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that he was gone and Leon had never made the time to make sure he knew how much he mattered to him. He wishes he could still tell him, but now all he can do is leave gifts as a grave and hope that somehow his message reaches him. He feels sick, his head is pounding like it’s too full and he feels like his ribs are squeezing in on him.

     Margo has to drag him up off the ground, and she wraps her wings around him the way she might for one of her clutches of charmanders and rumbles deep in her chest.

-_-_-_-

     Leon doesn’t make it home until nearly 6pm. After spending 45 minutes crying, Margo had dragged him to one of his favorite bakeries in Wyndon, apparently having realized herself that whenever Leon was feeling down he buried his feelings with sugar. He’s exhausted, and the first thing he did when he arrived home was slump down on his couch.

     He’s awake for all of five minutes before he falls asleep right there, on his own couch.

     When he reawakens, it’s nearly 9 pm and he finds himself surrounded by pokemon. Margo has her snout nuzzled against his hand which has slumped off the edge of the couch, and Flygon has perched on his stomach, curled up like a sleeping purrloin.

     Maybe he’s not okay as he should be, but he’s starting to get there.

[afni-fics]

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 11: Bleak Falls Barrow - Interior (part 2)

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 11: Bleak Falls Barrow - Interior (part 2) by C_R_Scott Chapters: 11/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read Summary:

Deeper into the Bleak Falls Barrow goes Tim and Lucien.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

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As Tim led the way further into the depths of Bleak Falls Barrow, his mind began to wander as he examined the ruins and artifacts he found with Lucien. 

"I wonder what my parents would have thought of exploring a place like this," he thought to himself as he picked up a book from a nearby table and swept a thick layer of dust from the cover. Idly, but carefully, he opened the book and turned a few pages before closing it again and offering it to Lucien. The scholar cooed over it with delight and began rambling about the tome's age, history, and how well preserved it was. 

Tim smiled sadly as his inner thoughts lingered on his memories of his biological mother and father, Janet and Jack Drake. "Mom and Dad always seemed happier when they were on archeological digs than they ever were at home in Gotham." The young man moved on a little further down the hall, zeroing in on some new carvings that were hidden behind a curtain of spider webs. "Even with the bandits and the death traps, this has been interesting and kinda fun. I wonder... If I could've spent time with them on digs like this... Could we have been a better family?"

His thoughts were interrupted when a new voice echoed from deeper down the hall. 

"Is... is someone coming? Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling?"

"Did you hear that?" Lucien asked as he put the book into his backpack.

Tim nodded as he nocked another arrow to his bow and began to follow the sound of the new voice down the hall. Once he got to the end of the hall, the serious expression on his face deepened. 

"Well, shit..."

Lucien nodded in agreement. "I suppose the ancient Nords who built that trap earlier had to get their spider venom from somewhere."

The entrance into the next large room was covered in curtains of spider webs from floor to ceiling. As Tim tried to peer deeper into the room beyond the curtains, while he couldn't see any giant Frostbite Spiders, he could see lots of web covered skeever and human sized victims littering the walls and floors along with lots of large round pods that Tim reasoned looked like giant spider egg-sacs. He felt a shiver race up his spine.

"Spiders... Why is it always spiders?"

He turned to Lucien and told him to wait there while he went to investigate. Cautiously, Tim crept into the room, cutting a small piece of webbing so he could try to slip in without alerting the creator of the web.

Unfortunately, even those small precise movements were not enough to go completely undetected. Tim froze in the shadow of a nearby pillar as a gigantic Frostbite Spider lowered itself ominously from the ceiling by a single slender web. The beast was far larger than what he'd experienced in the caves beneath Helgen. The body of the spider was easily comparable to that of a large horse, and the addition of the eight long spiny legs seemed to double, even triple its visual volume and height as it moved about the room, looking for the intruder upon its nest.

Fortunately for Tim, it was about that time that owner of the voice who's led him here started screaming bloody murder and getting the spider's attention.

"Hey you! You've got to get me outta here!" an elf trapped in a wall of webbing shouted at the top of his lungs. "Kill the damned thing before it eats us both!"

As soon as the spider turned its full attention to the elf, Tim immediately pulled the arrow back and let it fly at the spider's now exposed abdomen. Though the arachnid was clearly armored with a thick exoskeleton, from the back Tim's arrow was able to slip between the layers of the abdominal plates.

The spider gave off a horrible screech and raised up on six of its legs as it spun around to turn its full attention on Tim.  However, it got another arrow in one of the fleshy parts of its mandibles before Tim dashed off to the side. Tim knew he needed to keep his distance from the spider if he was to have any chance of killing the beast.

Suddenly, he stumbled and hit the floor hard on his left side. Tim bit back a cry as pain raced up his burned left arm. A quick look at his feet revealed a fresh glob of sticky webbing that effectively glued him in place as the wounded spider stalked toward him. Tim struggled to free himself, but it was no use! The webbing was too sticky and stretchy. He'd never free himself in time.

The spider was practically on top of him now, rising up and exposing its fangs when out of nowhere a stream of icy shards slammed against the spider from the back. The spider rose up again in pain and screeched. The momentary distraction was what Tim needed. Quickly, he pulled out one of his daggers with his good right arm and lunged upward, stabbing it into the spider's exposed sternum, burying the blade into the creature up to its hilt.

Screeching, the spider scrambled backward both away from Tim and the the constant shower of icy shards. But it was too late for it. Within moments, the giant beast fell down dead to the Barrow floor.

Tim stared at the dead spider as he struggled to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. 

"That was too close."

Tim moved his gaze and looked at Lucien. His eyes were drawn to the scholar's hands, which were covered in a sheen of frost. "That ice... was you?"

Lucien nodded as he rubbed his hands together and breathed into them to warm them. "I told you I knew a few spells. Unfortunately, I haven't had much practice using them in actual combat." As of to explain further, Lucien aimed a hand at the spider corpse and seemed to try and fire another blast of cold at it. However, whatever spell he was trying to cast seemed to sputter out at his fingertips. Lucien winced, as if he had a headache. "I'm really quite useless as a mage." Then he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a vial of blue liquid.

"You saved my life," Tim said as he pulled out his second dagger and used it to cut away the webbing at his feet. "I wouldn't call that useless." Tim tilted his head at the liquid Lucien was now drinking. "What's that?"

Lucien paused. "You don't know what a mana potion is?"

Tim suddenly became more focused on the blade as he freed his feet. "I'm guess it's a mage thing?"

"Yes," Lucien said tentative. "I forget you have no experience with magic. It helps me regenerate the energy I use to cast spells more quickly. Kind of like healing potions, but for mages. Speaking of which," Lucien pulled out another vial, this time filled with a now familiar red liquid. "Do you need this?"

Tim almost said no. However, as he rose to his feet, he felt a sharp pain shoot through his left elbow straight up to his shoulder. With a murmur of thanks, Tim took the vial and drank its contents as Lucien went forward to speak with the trapped elf in the webs. It was still a strange sensation to him, feeling the healing liquid work its magic to mend his injuries....

Or at least attempt to mend them. 

While the pain had been dulled, there was still a deep ache in the muscles of his upper arm. Tim tested his left hand grip on the blade of the dagger he tried to retrieve from dead spider. With a grimace and a sense of trepidation, Tim noticed that he just didn't have the strength to pull the dagger free, not without a solid spike of pain that forced him to release the blade before he could hurt himself further. Then he switched his hand and found he could easily remove the dagger with his right.

"Hey! Get back here!" 

Tim turned to Lucien, who now stood before an empty doorway where the trapped elf once hung. 

"What happened?" Tim asked as he sheathed his dagger and picked up his bow.

"That Bosmer bandit ran off!" Lucien said in an offended tone. "Apparently he's got some artifact that's a key to the secrets of this Barrow. Something about a claw and a door in a place called the 'Hall of Stories'. He said he'd show us what it all meant if I cut him down."

"So you cut him down."

"So, like an idiot, I cut him down, and he took off almost as soon as his feet hit the ground." 

Tim smiled reassuringly at Lucien and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry... We'll catch up to--"

Suddenly, they heard a blood curdling scream reverberate through the halls from the direction the elven bandit had run. 

"I think something has already caught up to him," Lucien remarked uneasily...

-------------------------

Warning: This is being pantsed more than plotted, and this is not beta read. We'll see where this journey takes us. Mostly I'm just doing this for my own amusement.

Note1: If you have any questions about the playthrough and Tim's feelings/experiences that aren't described in the chapters, please ask me in the comments. I'll do my best to answer your questions as best I can.

Note2: Part 2 of Tim and Luci's trek into the Barrow. Here they have their run in with the giant Frostbite Spider and "Arvel the Swift". In the first screenshot you notice the book is glowing. This is from a mod called Unread Books Glow SSE (https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/20679). This is a brilliant mod because any books you haven't read yet glow, and the color changes depending on if they're quest books, skill books, spell books, or just books for character/clutter/something interesting to read. It's an extremely useful mod for any playthrough of Skyrim!

#elder scrolls dc#fanfiction#tim drake#skyrim fanfiction#batfam fanfic#red robin#batfam#crossover#lucien flavius#wip#afewnovelideas

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Aurora James prompt: ‘You’re the best thing that ever happened to me’ ♣️♥️♠️

Written  by @evoedbd

Aurora James usually paced when she was stressed. Specifically, she paced in the dark corner where her mini bar had sat since her first night in the Mansion. Normally, she was as tightly wound as a leopard, prowling from wall to wall with her feline sharp amber eyes glowing and metaphoric tail twitching. Normally, her sheer shirts barely clung to her tight muscles, enhancing the delicious curve of her shoulders and finely muscled biceps. Which was perhaps what made it so surprising to find the air still when Lucy entered the sapphic lion’s den. She didn’t see the prowling predator, nor the sharp alertness Aurora often had when overwhelmed. Instead, the Hustler was still, her back resting against the wall and knees lifted to her chest. The Hustler cuddled her knees, keeping her eyes squeezed wilfully shut, as if denying herself sight might allow her to resist her biggest vice.

Alcohol. Even from across the room, Lucy could smell it in the air. The open bottle mocked her, lingering out of Aurora’s reach. Despite the fact it rested out of reach, Lucy could see the way Aurora’s body leaned towards the bottle, even if only subtly. There was always that pull, an allure which mocked all of Aurora’s progress. One week. The Hustler had not touched alcohol for over a week now, and the effects were so painfully clear. She trembled often, even on the hottest days. She was irritable, a starved beast snapping at anything that dared to come close. Lucy had no such fears. Aurora could bite, she could claw and scream, yet she was incapable of driving Lucy away. Not when the Californian born girl had no intention of allowing Aurora to suffer through this alone. Lucy made no effort to disguise her intentions as she strode across the room, moving until she was sitting next to Aurora, between her and the bottle.

Aurora simply sighed and let the shadows embrace her, let the artistic naked women along the walls lead her down memory lane, trying to find those rare few moments which made her feel alive, instead of just mindless pleasure. Sometimes, if she felt generous, she would try to recall their faces. Who was the first? Who really shook her world for that delicate first time? Had she trusted them? Had she begged as she made so many do since? Or, had it been Franco’s idea? Had that last shred of innocence been traded just as the rest of her was? Had he used his tool beyond the purposes Aurora understood?

Aurora was no fool, nor was she mindless. Her memory was razor sharp, at least when it needed to be. An opponent from ten years prior could return and Aurora would remember their style. How much she had taken. How to push and play the game until she had them on the edge of their sanity. A quick glance could have her memorizing and calculating in ways that left many to shame… except the Valentine Gangs Little Lamb. That gorgeous blonde with doe eyes the colour of storm clouds, and a wit that struck like lightning. The Little Lamb had a memory like a camera. She could flick through her history like a catalog, then calculate complex sums off the top of her head. Lucy Kim was the perfection Aurora had always strove to be, yet that had its downsides too. Lucy did not have the blessing of forgetting the faces of those who hurt her, even after those men were in the grave. She recalled her moments of fear with such clarity it gave Aurora shivers. When Lucy finally spoke of her nightmares, it was cold and clinical, something so far from her usual sunny personality that is still left Aurora chilled to the core.

Her head throbbed insistently, reminding her that salvation was within reach. All she had to do was overpower the lock of her muscles, or was it release them? All she needed to do was reach for that bottle and her suffering would be abated… and Lucy would let her. Oh, she knew Lucy would let her grab that bottle, would sit there as she downed the lot. Lucy would bathe her if she puked all over herself, just as she’d tenderly tuck her into the impossibly large bed. Lucy would hold her through another round of withdrawals and denial; support her as she fell back into toxic habits. But that would absolutely break the blonde. Lucy was too kind-hearted to leave, even if Aurora’s behaviours began to destroy her. She’d never abandon the older woman, never leave, not even if she was destroyed in the process. That thought hurt Aurora more than any of her physical symptoms. How could she do that? How could she break this beautiful young woman? How could she face that disappointment? It was true, Aurora had introduced Lucy to the criminal world. She had allowed the girl to shoot guns and drive fast cars. She’d taught Lucy how to count cards and cheat almost anybody at Texas Hold ‘Em. But, in all of that, Aurora had never, ever attempted to make Lucy turn evil. She’d never wanted to destroy that light within the younger woman. No matter how much simpler it would be if she had, if she’d not been lured into actually caring.

Ugh. This was a mess.

Aurora James was the Valentine’s Hustler. She drank. She fucked. She went breaking hearts who dared wish for more. She didn’t sit around talking about her feelings. Not to her family. Not to herself. And especially not to doe eyed younger women with a smile so pure it made her believe in goodness again. Then again, she had watched so many fall victim to that smile. Chance had slowly caved, unable to keep his full glare on the adorable Little Lamb. Yoshimitsu had been instantly smitten, going out of his way to ensure her comfort. Irving had opened his intelligent mind and heart, embracing the girl as his little sister. Ash offered gentle smiles and playful gestures, appreciating her almost as much as he loved her dog. Even Mateo found it within himself to soften for her. Was it such a shock that Aurora James fell victim to the Valentine kryptonite too?

Alcohol was a comfortable familiar. An orgasm was an orgasm, and she’d fucked her way through half of LA by this point. On the one hand, she wasn’t so sure that untold number was something to brag about anymore. But on the other, over half of LA had found her attractive. No, not her, what she offered. That was a confidence booster and then some. However not a single person had graced her bed since they had taken in the Little Lamb… darn it all! Aurora hadn’t even WANTED anybody in her bed. It wasn’t like offers weren’t there, it was simply that there weren’t anymore people she could reach out to for casual sex without giving them expectations despite her clear words. Without breaking their fragile hearts. She was tired of it. Tired of pretending that she didn’t enjoy curling around her lover, inhaling the scent of their hair before she even opened her eyes. Or that she had no desires for intimacy… That she didn’t need! It had absolutely nothing to do with her being tamed. Damn it all! Was the Little Lamb taking away her sex drive? Not only her desire for drink, but her addiction to sex as well?

What the actual fuck was wrong with her?

The Little Lamb was too good, to pure for the Gangster’s hands to ruin. Aurora knew this, even as she clung that little bit tighter. Was it so wrong that she wanted something good for once? That she wanted to see that smile grow that little bit more with pride? Or see those beautiful eyes soften in that unique way? Dangerous? Absolutely. Letting somebody in this close was absolutely reckless. It was allowing someone ways to destroy her, and the Valentines. It was allowing someone the power to crush her, destroy everything she was… but was it wrong?

“I need a drink.” Aurora whispered, finally letting those devastating words through her fine lips. Every word tasted foul, worse than soured wine and off juice bubbling over her dexterous tongue. The tang was unavoidable, no matter how she moved her tongue or clamped her amber eyes shut to imagine something better. Something sweeter.

“You said need. Don’t you want to drink?” Lucy’s quiet voice was so gentle, so soothing in Aurora’s ears. The Mexican couldn’t help but sigh, allowing herself to fall into the warm, waiting body offering comfort. A hug. Who could have known that a hug could cure all ailments, even if temporarily? Falling into Lucy’s arms was almost like surrendering to the warmth of a delightful bath; allowing every muscle to relax and simply enjoy the sensation. Aurora found herself drowning in the scents of expensive lotions and shampoos. They were her products, yet somehow they just smelt better on Lucy. Sweeter. Purer. Scents Aurora used to inspire seduction gave off comfort when applied to Lucy’s pale skin… how? How could the exact same scent be so different on her? It was as if none of the scents wanted to corrupt the goodness of Lucy Kim. A sentiment Aurora indulged in.

“Not anymore. It’s just…” Aurora couldn’t finish her sentence. It was just… what? Habit? Security? A way to have the years pass in a pleasant blur? Something to soothe the agony of her sordid past? Her abandonment issues? When it came down to it, why did alcohol soothe her so? For so many years it had been the balm, the remedy. It chased traumas away and kept her feeling warm and fuzzy. It added that edge of danger to her gambling, softening her just enough that her opponents provided an entertaining challenge… or at least slightly more challenge than just handing her their cash.

“Just…” Aurora struggled to find the words. Why was its burn so ineffective now? Why did the thought of it turn her tastebuds to ash? The answer was all around her, gazing at her with those loving grey eyes that stole her breath. They were twinkling, filled with so many emotions that they made Aurora’s world spin. Surely it wasn’t her head… ok, it was definitely her head. The world hadn’t looked this clear for years, yet all she wanted to admire was Lucy.  Funny how that worked.  The first time in years she was stone cold sober and the only beauty she wanted to admire was that of a breathtaking woman… not everything to change.

“Take your time, Rory. I’m here with you.” Lucy mumbled, bending down to press her lips to the crown of Aurora’s head. Honestly, it hurt, seeing Rory reduced to this. A shaking mess, a shadow of her usual self. So small and broken in the face of a crippling addiction. Aurora was so strong, lithe muscle and feminine curves which left so many in awe, yet that strength melted the instant Lucy pulled the Mexican into her lap. This wasn’t AJ, the Valentine Hustler who had bankrupted Casinos in her boredom. This wasn’t the woman who was comfortable with weapons and martial arts. This was not AJ, the woman who broke romantic hearts with her honesty and made legends with her prowess. This was Aurora. Rory. Lucy’s Rory. This was the little girl who’d been abandoned when her family was deported. This was the woman who was broken when her father figure rejected her sentiment. Broke the illusion of affection to inform Aurora she was nothing but a tool. This was the woman who was continuously discarded and beaten down whenever she dared open her heart. Yet here she was, braving heartbreak yet again, placing herself in Lucy’s unworthy hands. For once, Aurora wasn’t the one holding her wounds together. She allowed herself to bleed in the most deviating of ways. Tears of broken frustration silently trailed down her cheeks, each more potent than a bullet to Lucy’s heart.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” Lucy affirmed, as she slowly began to run her delicate fingers through Aurora’s chocolate hair, her trimmed nails scratching ever so gently at Aurora’s scalp. She cradled the Hustler’s head to her chest, allowing Aurora to nestle between her breasts. There was something so inexplicably sweet about the gesture, despite how it may appear to the outside world. Some might expect Aurora to be lewd, to nip or lick at the cleavage offered so freely. To allow the filthiest things to drop from her lips in that sinfully honeyed tone. Instead, Aurora made a soft sound, one Lucy could only classify an exhausted mewl, and snuggled closer.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Little Lamb, and I don’t want to lose any more of my life.” The muffled words came so easily once Aurora stopped fighting herself. It felt entirely too good to surrender, to close her eyes and nuzzle into the warm darkness. To feel the gentle movements against her skull. Those soft hands delicately lured Aurora from her hiding place, guiding her to gaze upwards into stormy skies. Looking into Lucy’s eyes was more blinding than gazing into the sun, even though Aurora’s vision stayed clear. She lost herself in the swirling storm of pride, filled with affection and understanding. This beautiful soul had looked into the darkness and chose to remain, illuminating shadows with a smile so gentle that Aurora felt her own eyes prickle with more unshed tears.

Lucy had been there with her through it all.  The sleepless nights, the unimaginable stomach pains and racing heart.  How fevered she’d felt, along with her increased confusion and irritability.  The terrifying hallucinations that’d had her screaming.  In that moment, Aurora swore to herself she’d never become reliant on alcohol again. No matter how many times she slipped and had to suffer through the painful process of detoxing, she planned to fight it.   Without thought, she extended her foot, allowing her toes to tap the top of the bottle.  For one terrifying moment, it tittered, almost acting as a representation of Aurora’s difficult life.  Then, it fell, crashing to the floor and spewing its poisonous contents all over the carpet.   It was freeing, even though it reeked.  She’d done it.  When faced with temptation she had found the strength to deny herself.  To turn it away.   It was a weight off her chest, even as her heart seemed to grow three sizes at the delighted laugh that escaped Lucy.   The blonde leaned down, pressing her lips to Aurora’s tear stained cheek in a loving gesture before whispering.

“I am so proud of you.”

[abizarreyodelingincident]

(LU) Ridiculous Optimization: The Art of Finding the Right Tool for the Wrong Situation

Chapter one: They're big pots, really

Wild's Hyrule was, for lack of a better word, a pain.

Now, if you were Warriors, who regularly tangled with nobles and their ilks as part of his duties, you might describe it as 'a temporary yet persistent sort of agony, so scandalous, good sirs and ladies'. Or, if you were Sky, who serenaded his Zelda with loving devotion, the description might resemble 'a land broken but resisting, a primal kingdom for the ambitious to remake'.

But the average Link was neither, and the general sentiment came out as 'Wild's Hyrule is a giant pain'. (One should recall that both Legend and Wind existed in the general sample and drastically lowered the ability to describe Wild's Hyrule in polite company.)

The weather conditions were, all in all, quite tolerable outside of the occasional lightning storms which threatened to violently roast them all (Time especially). Wild's one recurring grip being the rain making it impossible to climb cliff sides and barely-standing-towers – which, in all honesty, had become Twilight's favorite weather for this exact same reason.

The few tribes of monsters could provoke violent swearing, in good part after the Links had assimilated the color system that ruled Wild's Hyrule. (Four could never look at golden monsters the same way now.) No, no, a Link knew to adapt to their circumstances and would learn all the right tricks to fighting any sort of monster that showed up in his path.

In fact, Time had gone on record to say that he'd gone on an adventure in a much more stressful kingdom, because at least the moon was only red and not looming.

The real challenge was so many of his enemies being outright mini-bosses at least. Wind's Hero's Charm had confirmed their health being far superior to the average roaming monster, and, to the general disbelief, added that no, Lynels did not count as minibosses for some goddesses-forsaken reason.

“That's three!” Warriors called out, slashing away at one twisting limbs. “One to go!”

“Get down!” Hyrule shouted just in time for Warriors to duck under a blue-ish laser.

The two heroes felt air woosh over their backs, cold and sharp despite the explosion that ravaged a rock formation down the hill. Despite the sheer damage done, none of them gave the ruins even a passing glance. Normally, some Link like Four would wonder out loud about the marvels of technology that had led to the creations of robots as powerful as the Guardians. That would, unjustly, earn him a slap upside the head from the others who just wanted them all exterminated.

But, if anything, their mechanical structure should be glorified, as unlike almost every other enemies the Links met in their travels, the Guardians could not be further enhanced by black blood.

No, the Guardians were a special pain in the Links' anatomies all on their own.

Legend had already written down the tirade he reserved for the Sheika elders that had thought beamos weren't mobile and powerful enough in his journal. One day, he would travel to the past of Wild's Hyrule and give them all the dressing down they deserved and it would be beautiful.

Three grappling hooks latched onto the last Guardian's limbs just in time to stop it from running over the downed Warriors and Hyrule. Now, against, say, a Lynel or an Hinox, pulling such a maneuver might have given the monster pause, but the Guardian's head merely rotated and aimed its tracking light at Time.

He alongside Twilight and Sky dispersed to avoid the lightning quick retaliation and even then, Sky felt the flames lick at his heels.

Rolling away, he ended up in a huddle close with Legend and Four, behind a large, mossy rock. "You know," Sky said, nervously chatting instead of saving his breath, "they kind of remind me of pots."

Legend's eyes twitched. “Ah, yes, they're tougher than most of my bosses, faster too, shoot laser beams, but they are a little round-ish. I see the resemblance.”

"Oh!" Four exclaimed, thunderstruck. "I've got it! Cover me," he shouted to the others.  

Without even a moment's consultation, Wind and Wild both rushed out of their hiding spots and pelted the Guardian with bombs, their supplies of arrows depleted during the ambush. It only made the Guardian's base tilt slightly, though, a few seconds were all Four really needed. His hands found the handle of the cane with the ease of many adventures' worth of practice.

Not a second too soon either, for one of the Guardian's limbs had snaked through the barrage and swept Wind aside. And now threatened to grab the little rolling pirate.

Four swung the twisted branch. A staff, Wild realized as a glittering ball of energy flew off its head and struck the guardian head on. For a split second, he allowed himself to hope that it would have a bit of an effect on the thing. He'd seen (schemed for, though he never admitted it to Twilight) a Guardian struck by lightning before, and it had shrugged it off as easily as a breeze. Those things just wouldn't-

The Guardian flipped over.

Wind's shocked cursing translated the general gobsmacked bafflement of the eight heroes over five feet tall.

The Guardian landed on its head, its top carvings digging into the soil. The legs frantically expanded to try and right it, but could find no purchase. Their articulations had not been created to allow the legs to reach the head area. Combining those facts effectively condemned the feared contraction to reenact a flipped turtle's dying moments, with half the dignity.  

Wild staggered backward into Time's waiting arms. “Wh-what, I don't… how?”

“Magic,” Time replied with the air of a wise old man, “you never know what kind of stuff it can do. Also,” he cleared his throat and spoke louder, “watch out for the laser beam, boys."

Hyrule and Wind flinched back from the upside down Guardian, like kids with their hands down the cookie jar. The eye turned from blue to red.

"It only shoots in a straight line," Wild said, recovering from his shock.

The dreaded red dot stuttered in place, stuck in a very narrow margin.

“Yeah, but can't it turn its head?” Hyrule asked hesitantly, not looking away from the dot.

They distinctively heard the noise of some gears inside the thing turning, like a low-humming buzz of energy. Where the head met the body, the whirring flashed in rapid succession.

The head remained unmoving.

The other half of the guardian span.

“It's going to start flying now,” Wind said with clear apprehension.

Twilight nodded to that. The motion was eerily similar to a mad peahat preparing to soar the skies.

Legend shot them both an annoyed look. “With those legs?”

“It's a Guardian!” Wind protested. “They don't just fucking flip over and die?”

As if to punctuate the point, the Guardian's beam shot out of its frantically beeping eye. And, as if to immediately contradict itself, the beam missed them all by a mile, roughly, though it did strike on a stray lizalfos.

“Huh, didn't notice that one,” Warriors mumbled, as Legend burst out laughing at the madness of it all.  “What kind of item is that anyway?”

Four gave the twig a twirl. "The Cane of Pacci. It flips things over."

Legend scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "What kind of wizards gives their name to a staff that's good for flipping things over? I know magic-users can be lazy bastards, but that's a bit much, even for me."

Four shrugged, unfazed. "Who knows? It came in handy surprisingly often. Case in point," he waved an arm toward the flipped guardian.

A shrieking noise caught them off-guard, momentarily.

Wind had lodged a giant broadsword in the guardian's eye up to its hilt. The whirring machinery slowed, smoke leaking out of its gears and plates. If it hadn't been made completely helpless before, it certainly was now. Warrior looked inordinately fond of their young and bloodthirsty pirate for finishing off a helpless killing machine.

“Four,” Wild said, his face frozen in the most serious expression any of them (except Twilight) had ever seen.

“W-what?” Four replied, startled by the hands grabbing his shoulders.

“Name your price. Do you want rupees?” Wild asked, pulling out his slate. “Because I will bury you under more rupees than you've ever seen before.”

“Anyone else feels like that came out vaguely threatening?” Hyrule pondered.

“Vaguely?” Legend snarked, prompting Twilight to facepalm.

Wild apparently heard nothing but the silence Four was shoving his way. His voice hiked up in pitch. “Armor? I've got more sets of armors than I know what to do with them? Ancient Sheika armor? It's super mechanical, you like mechanisms, right?”

Four raised an eyebrow. “I like understanding how they work. Can you imagine me wearing your stuff? I would have trouble moving.”

“My recipe book?” Wild tried again, desperation creeping in his voice. “It's not written yet, but I can do that. Four, please?”

Twilight gasped. Hyrule's stomach loudly growled. And the rest nodded sagely. Wild truly was pulling out all the stops to get his hands on that cane, besides outright theft (which none of them were exactly strangers to).

“… No.”

The fingers let go of his shoulders, now aching from the grip.

“I thought we were brothers,” Wild whispered, leaning against Twilight for support. “Backstabbed like nothing.”

“I do actually need that item, you know?” Four replied, halfway between amused and annoyed.

"Alright, boys, no fighting," Time announced, his mouth struggling not to stretch into a smirk, "and new strategy. If we run into a guardian, we let Four handle it. All in favor?"

The surge of agreement ranged from 'mildly sorry' (Sky) to 'gleeful' (Legend, of course, and Wild).

"Oh come on!"

BONUS:

The eight Links stared at the Guardian stumbling over the fields of Wild's Hyrule whilst Twilight mimed around like a drunk puppeteer. Wind's pictograph was out and flashing the moment the herd of bokoblins shrieked in panic and fled for their lives from the clearly malfunctioning monstrosity. Wild's Sheika Slate had been given to Hyrule for the task of recording the moments whilst he mourned yet another way the Goddesses had seen fit not to help him fight off Guardians.

“Anyone else feels a little sorry for them?” Sky asked, scratching his head as the camp was bulldozed through.

“Not as such, no,” Hyrule replied without skipping a beat. He might also have a few bruises on his shoulder from their last encounter.

“How do you laser with this thing?” Twilight grumbled, face scrunched up in concentration.

“Pfft, it had to be the bumpkins that gets the power to control ancient automatons,” Legend snarked, his hat still fuming from where he had dodged the Guardian's first beam.

In the distance, the bokoblins suddenly exploded.

“Ah, unbridled rage,” Twilight deadpanned. “That'll do.”

The Links carefully took a step back. And didn't get closer until Twilight had driven the Guardian off a cliff. You never knew with the quiet ones. The second the possession was over, however, Wild broke through the ranks with a determined look, opened his mouth-

And Twilight beat him to the punch. “Your recipe book.”

“Deal.”

“YES!”

“Wait,” Four called, narrowly avoiding the death glare Wild sent him, “are you sure you won't need it when this is over.”

Twilight shrugged. “I mean, I've used it all of once after I finished the dungeon with it? My Hyrule's not exactly big on statues and contraptions to magically possess. Good food though? Not like I'll ever stop having to need that.”

“Spoken like a true bumpkin.”

Poor Legend never saw Wild leap through the air with the righteous fury of an avenging angel to defend the honor of his mentor, the best man he ever met and the soon-to-be recipient of a great deal of cakes.

NOTE:

The thought process went like this:

Tumblr post noting that Guardians look like an ancient pottery art from thousands of years ago. TLDR: The Guardians are Elder Pots awakened to take revenge on all the Links for their fallen brethren.

Guardians can't touch Link if he climbs on their head.

Minish Cap includes an item that flips pots over (to open minish gates, but shh, who cares?)

Ergo, Four can one-shot guardians.

Twilight's just there, because I took pity on Wild and the Dominion Rod is absolutely useless after its dungeon. Not like Twilight would miss it.

[littlebitoffanfic]

The Bear Or The Deer - part 4

Fandom: Frankenstein Character: Adam/the creation Relationship: Adam/reader Part one: Part One: https://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/188773179104/the-bear-or-the-deer

Part two: https://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/188934080699/the-bear-or-the-deer-part-2

Part three: https://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/189399728489/the-bear-or-the-deer-part-3

Sitting on the floor by the fire, you laughed as the two children in front of you fought for your attention. Glancing to the chairs, you saw Lisa and Laurence chuckling. You had grown up with Lisa, and she was the closest things you had to family. She had married Laurence and had Millie and James who were 5 years and 7 years old respectively. They loved you and called you ‘aunty [y/n]’. The family had been away for 6 month after Laurence’s grandmother passed away and they decided to stay with his mother while she grieved. Because of this, Lisa had limited information about your visitor. You couldn’t tell her a man lived in the woods by your house. You were pretty sure she would run straight home and pull you out by the ear to the doctors to get your head examined. But you did tell her that he was different. ‘Hes a lost soul without knowledge of his worth’ was how you described him, to which she responded ‘soul or soulmate’ in amongst a list of things to remember if you decided to plan a wedding. You had chuckled at her last letter but not dismissed the idea. “James ripped Lily’s arm. Look.” Millie clamber into your lap and showed you the doll, which had a small break in the seam of the arm. “oh, now we cant have that.” You took the doll then moved her off your lap to go to the window and use the setting sun to look closer at the doll. Lisa, despite being an excellent knitter, could not stitch at all. In fact, you always finished her projects for her. But as you were looking at the doll, movement from the woods drew your eyes out. Adam walked out, his eyes looking at the setting sun as he walked to your back door. You froze on the stop, forgetting about the doll in your hands for a moment. Adam was coming here. How would he react to Lisa and her family? Would he want to meet them? You certainly wanted him to meet them. They were both big parts of your life now, and you knew Lisa would like him. In fact, the family would be good for him. You were sure he had never seen how a family dynamic worked, and that most of his encounters were toxic. But you also didn’t want to hurt Adam. While you were sure Lisa and Laurance would be fine, they might freeze up, as you had the first time you met him. And the children were goodhearted, but they might be scared of him on first sight. You didn’t want to think how deeply such a thing might effect him. But that’s assuming he just walked it. You looked back to the family in your Livingroom. If they knew, and he knew, perhaps it would be better. You could ask him if he wants to meet them, and if not he could just wait till they left. But if he did, you could warn the family first, make sure they know hes not use to social interactions and about his looks. walking to Millie, you handed her the doll back and said you would be right back. Going to your kitchen, you met Adam on the porch, closing the door behind you. The second his eyes met yours, they lite up with joy. You couldn’t help but go up on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips, feeling how he shook for a moment before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you tight against him. For a moment, you forgot about your question, or the people in your home. God, you just wanted to freeze that moment in his arms. But when he pulled back, the cool evening air reminded you. “Adam, I have some visitors.” You told him, instantly seeing the reaction. He shrank away from you, letting go of you so he could step back down one step. “I am sorry. I’ll come back-“ He tried to turn but you grabbed his hand. “No, I would like you to meet them.” You smiled, tugging him to stand back up again. “Its Lisa and her family. I told you about them.” “Yes.” He answered, recognition in his eyes. He felt like he knew them, like you feel like you know characters out of a book. He had heard you recant so many stories and he saw how much you cared about them. “You… you want me to meet them? Why?” Adams eyes were filled with confusion as he looked at you. “Because you are important to me.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his hand. “But I understand if you don’t want to right now. I know ive sprung this on you.” You allowed Adam a moment to think. he hadn’t met many people in his life, and you had been the only one who had been kind to him. So you understood his reservations. But after a moment, Adam let out a shaking breath before nodding. There was now fear in his eyes as he reached out and gently stroked your face, as if memorizing your features. You smiled, leaning into his touch as you tried your hardest not to pull him inside. You needed to be tactful. You didn’t know how everyone would react to him upon first look. Lisa, you decided, would be the first to meet him. Then Laurence and then the children. Taking his hand, you gently guided him inside. Once in the kitchen, you gave him a last reassuring kiss on the cheek before leaving him to go into the livingroom. Lisa looked at you in confusion as you motioned for her to come to you. The kids were now arguing while Laurence tried to play middleman and seemed to be failing. You guided her over by the door to the kitchen, but not close enough for her to look it. “Are you okay?” Lisa asked, pressing the back of her hand to your cheek. “you’re awfully red.” “yes, I am fine.” You reassured her, silently cursing the fact that you still blushed whenever Adam kissed you. You kept your voice low, out of earshot of the kids, and hopefully Adam as well. “Listen, do you remember the man I told you about?” “Yes, the lost soul?” Lisa nodded, then her eyes darted to the kitchen door as she put two and two together. “Oh, is he here? Can I meet him?” “Yes, and yes, but Lisa.” You pulled her gaze back to you. “hes different, okay? He doesn’t look like everyone else.” Lisa tilted her head to the side. “is it bad?” She asked, now concerned. “Whatever’s different about him?” “No, it just looks… sore.” You tried to explain. His scares did look painful, and you were yet to find out how he got them. He had simply told you it was a dark truth he hoped you never found out about. “Okay, I understand.” She nods and you guide her to the kitchen. as you enter, Adam is visibly shaking but straightens up a little. He takes a step forward, wanting to show you he was interested to meet Lisa. “Lisa, this is Adam.” You introduce them. Lisa stood for a moment, frozen to the spot. Until you slyly kicked her foot and she jumped, remembering herself. “hello. [y/n] didn’t tell me you were so tall.” She smiled, curtsying to him. Adam had been so sure he knew what was going to happen. He had been so so sure. Lisa would meet him and scream, pulling you away from him as she curse him to hell. But she didn’t. She was surprised, yes. But she smile and greeted him like he was human. “I have heard a lot about you.” Adam bows, still unable to wrap his head around this. “Only good things, I hope.” Lisa narrows her eyes at you, suspiciously. “That’s for us to know.” You walked across the room, smiling widely at Adam as you did. Adam paused, seeming lost in your eyes for a moment before he smiled back, letting out a breath he had been holding. Suddenly, there was a coldblooded scream. “You ruined her!” Millie screamed out before you heard tiny footsteps running to the kitchen. Millie ran to you, crying her eyes out. “James broke her. He took her arm off!” She wailed as she grabbed your skirt in fistfuls and buried her face in it. She had even registered that there was a stranger in the room as she ran to you (only because she knew she could bend you right round her little finger and her mother would tell James off. “Oh darling.” You leaned down and picked her up. She wrapped her arms around your neck, burying her face in your neck. You looked to Adam, making sure he was okay. He stood frozen, staring at the child. It occurred to you that he might not have been near a child since he was one. Especially one how was screaming your house down. Lisa was beside you, gently brushing her hair back soothingly as she tried to calm her daughter. “What happened?” She asked. Millie held out the doll to her mother, which was now missing its left arm. “Oh dear.” Lisa sighed, about to go tell off James when she heard Laurence speaking with him. “Im sure we can fix it.” You assured Millie as she pulled back, rubbing both her eyes and hiccupping. “Besides, I have someone who can help me.” Millies eyes darted to Adam. “Can you fix Lily?” Millie held out the doll to Adam. She instantly trusted him because you and her mother were standing in the same room as him. She didn’t judge him or act fearful of him. She just wanted to fix her doll. Her eyes flicked to his scars. “did auntie [y/n] fix you?” You and Lisa froze, worried now. Millie was still so young, and didn’t understand that these weren’t things you asked a stranger. But Adam chuckled, taking the doll and looking at the stitching. “yes, [y/n] fixed me. And I am sure she can fix…” He trailed off, looking back to Millie as he gestured to the doll. “Lilly.” She called out, jumping a little in her arms while giggling. “She can fix Lilly.” He confirmed with a nod. You couldn’t help but smile at him. Balancing Millie on your hip and holding her with one arm, you reached out and took Adams hand, squeezing it. Just then, you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen and Laurence and James walked in. Laurence paused in the doorway, his eyes darting to his wife to check it was okay to come in. She nodded. “Apologies, James wanted to say something to Millie.” Laurence places a hand on James back, who was avoiding everyone’s eyes. “Its okay. Laurence, this is Adam. Adam, this is Laurence and James.” You gestured to the boys in turn. Laurence walked across the room, holding out his hand to Adam without any hesitation. Adam shook his hand, dropping yours in the process. Laurence eyes flickered to you, and you instantly saw that Lisa had told him what you had said in your letters, and he had put two and two together. James mirrored his father, shaking Adams hand in turn before turning to you. You gently placed Millie back on the ground to turn to her brother. “Im sorry for breaking Lilys arm.” James held out the arm to Millie as he spoke. She took it, sulking as she tried to match it up to the seam but nodded. James gave her a quick cuddle before turning to you. “Is Mr Adam staying for dinner?” He asked. “Are you?” You raised an eyebrow at him and the two children suddenly turned to their parents, pledging with them. “okay, okay.”  Lisa held up her hands in defeat.

--------------time skip -----------------------

Standing on the front porch, you waved to the family as they pulled away in their carriage, Laurence steering the horses while Millie and James were practically hanging out the window waving to you and Adam. The evening was lovely and once which you were so happy it happened. After a nice dinner, the five of you had sat by the fire as Lisa told you what had happened on their trip. You looked to Adam during the time, seeing he had certainly calmed down, no longer as tense as he had been. He had smiled the whole night, even during another of James and Millies argument over who gets to sit next to him at dinner. It was settled that Millie sat beside you and James sat beside Adam and you. Lily was mended and back in Millies arms before the sun fully set. It would seem Adam had two new fans. Millie had squeezed herself in between you and Adam when you were sat on the couch, while James sat to the other side of him. The two of them stole glances at his scars, but neither said much about it. Before they had left, Millie had thrown herself into your arms, hugging you. But before you could put her down, she flung herself towards Adam. You held her beside him as she hugged him as well. Adam patted her back, unsure how to respond. As they pulled away, you guided Adam back into the house. “Thank you.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you press your lips against his cheek. “My pleasure.” Adam smiled, his arms finding your waist as he pulled you closer and letting out a content sigh. Throughout the whole night, he was sure it would turn. Something would happen and they would suddenly see him for the monster he was. Yet it never did. “Im so proud of you. You did so well.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips and he melted against you. A soft groan left his throat as he kissed you, his mind lost in the moment. You stepped back, your finger gripping his collar and pulling him with you until you hit the wall. One hand rested next to your head as the other on your hip while gently pinning you against the wall. And in a moment, the kiss changed. It became sloppy and needy as Adam cupped your cheek. “its so late.” You mumbled as you pulled back for air. “Do you wish me to leave?” Adam asked, but you shook your head. “No, quite the opposite.” You giggled. Since the snowy night, he stayed once or twice a week, but nothing more than kissing had ever happened. He shared your bed, but was always entirely respectful. Not that you always wanted him to be. And after tonight, you couldn’t get the thoughts of having his bare skin pressed against yours out of your head. He had put himself in an uncomfortable position, just to please you. And he had been so great with the children that you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat at the thought of having your own children with him Adam smiled as you took his hand and slipped out from between him and the wall. you guided him upstairs and he followed you with a soft smile. Once inside your room, you closed the door behind him. Adams lips find yours in the semi darkness of the room. It was a full moon out, and the small amount of light offered a little bit of more visibility. as you kiss him, your fingers find his top buttons of his shirt. You knew you were pushing your luck tonight, and Adam had already done so much for you. But you couldn’t deny the growing need for him you felt. Cold hands cupped your own as Adam pulled back from the kiss. “[y/n].” He gasps your name, shaking a little. “Please, you must know I am not like-“ “Not like other men. I know.” You assured him. “I don’t care.” Adam pauses, blinking as he looks at you. “Adam, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” You smile, pressing a kiss to each of his knuckles. You didn’t want him to be pressured into anything. “god knows how much I want you [y/n]. but I do not want you to be disappointed or disgusted by me.” Adam whispers to you, resting his forehead against your own. “You could never disappoint me. Or disgust me. Never.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips. Adam paused, before letting go your fingers and giving your permission to continue. Slowly, you undid his shirt. Once done, you slowly trail your fingers up his front then push the material from his shoulders. his fingers played with the hem of your blouse. Pulling back from his lips, you pull your blouse over your head before looking at him. As you drop the material to the floor, your eyes find his torso. As you expect, he was covered in the horrible scars that were visible across his hands and face. raising your hands, you ran your fingers across the top of one, not touching the scar itself. Adam took a shaking breath at your touch, but as you looked up, you saw his own gaze was on your chest which was still hidden by your bra. Reaching behind you, you undid the latch and allowed your bra to fall away from your top to the floor. Adams breath hitched in his throat as you leaned up and kissed him. Pressing yourself against him, his cool skin a contrast to your own warm skin. He shuddered as you kissed him and a groan left his lips. You could feel his growing erection against your front, and you couldn’t help but moan a little against the kiss. You undid your skirt and allowed it to fall to the ground, pooling at your ankles with your underwear. As Adam realized what you had done, he mirrored you with his trouser and own underwear. Instantly, you could feel his long, hard member pressed against your stomach. You pulled him to the bed, now both completely naked before each other. pushing him back, Adam fell onto the bed, instantly sitting up so he was on the edge. His eyes were glued to your body. It allowed you to fully take in his own. Up his legs were covered in the same scars, manly around joints or midsections. He was certainly blessed by god in a certain area and he could, from what you had heard, put most men to shame. You wanted to kiss every inch of him, show him how much you loved him and wanted him. you straddled his lap and his arms locked around your waist. You could feel his member pressed against you as you gently grind against him while kissing him. His hands grip your hips, his fingers digging in as he groans and grunts as the movement. Raising yourself up,, you reach between you both and gently line him up with your entrance. As you slowly sunk onto him, you mewled in delight at the feeling. Adam seemed unable to think straight, his gaze falling to between your bodies. He watched as he entered you, leaning back on his hands on the bed to gaze at your body. When he was fully inside you, you placed your hands on his chest, steadying yourself. Grinding your hips, you could help but moan at the feeling, quickly understanding how someone could become addicted to this. Especially when your moans were met with Adams own groans of pleasure. Adams eyes found yours and they were dark with lust. You bite your lower lip and that seemed to break Adam. He sat up straight, his hands cupping your breast while his lips found your neck. You threw your head back, allowing him full across to your neck as you gently started to bounce on him, feeling him shudder and groan against your skin. One hand slipped behind you, skimming down your skin to your rear and grabbing a handful. Adam had throwing his self doubt and caution to the wind, finally able to fully let go with you once he saw you were having as much pleasure as he was. “Adam.” You moaned as he kissed up your jaw and to your lips, kissing you hungrily as you bounced. “Your lips as a sweet as nectar and your body divine as heaven.” Adam whispered to you as he broke your kiss to stare intensely into your eyes. You couldn’t answer. In fact, your mind couldn’t tie two words together as you moaned, your hips increasing their speed. Adam looked down, his gaze raking down your body to where it met his own. You allowed your own eyes to travel his body, every scar and cut making your heart hurt for him. leaning forward, you kiss down his neck and across his shoulder, paying special attention to any scars there. Adam moaned, his head falling back as he buckled his hips up to meet your thrusts with a new urgency. “[y/n]!” Adam groaned through gritted teeth, his hands leaving your breast and rear to settle back on your hips, begging you to go faster, harder. Pulling back, you placed both hands on his broad shoulder, obliging his request as you quickened  your pace. “Adam, god.” You whimper as you feel a coil tighten in your lower stomach. Sure, you had touched yourself before, more recently to the thought of Adam, but this was totally different. You loved it. Adam kissed up your neck, groaning your name against your neck like it was a prayer as he pants. You couldn’t take any more. Your orgasm hit you like you were struck by lightning. It coursed through your veins like fire as your body shook with pleasure. You walls pulsed around him, tightening around Adam as he came inside you with a lengthy groan. Adam fell back into the bed, spent inside you, while you lay on his chest. You both were panting, and your heart was beating so hard you could hear it in your ears. you buried your face in his neck, pressing soft, sloppy kisses there. Adam turned his head to you, his eyes finding your own hazy ones. He smiled at you. A lazy, satisfied yet joyful smile. “I love you.” You whispered to him, raising a hand so your fingers skimmed across his cheek. Adam reached up, pressing his hand against your own. “I love you, [y/n]. so so much.” He returned your affection, sealing them with a soft kiss. “That was a heavily bliss someone such as I was never meant to see.” “You were amazing, so I cant quite agree with you.” You giggle, pushing yourself up and off him. Adam followed you as you climbed into bed. Adam always slept closest to the door, making you feel safe and secure as you lay your head on his chest. You were about to doze off when Adam spoke. “What if I am unable to give you children?” His question was out of the blue, and you almost thought you had imagined it until you looked up and saw sorrowful eyes looking down at you. “What if I cannot do that?” “Then we can adopt. Theres plenty of children in this world who need love.” You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Have you thought about having a family?” “Until you? No. but now, I’d give everything to stay by your side. Then today, with Millie and James, I cannot begin to describe the feeling. I know it is selfish to keep you to myself, to force a child with me as a father, but I want a family with you.” Adam spoke, bearing his soul for you. “Adam, it isn’t selfish at all. And it’s a want that I share with you.” You smile, gently stroking his cheek. “I have nothing to teach, nothing to show. What could I bring a child?” He shook his head, his mind working fast against himself. His eyes left your own, looking behind you. “You could show love, and compassion. Adam, look at me?” You pulled his focus back to you. “any child would be lucky to have you as its father.” “A father.” He mumbles to himself, glancing away from you for a moment before returning his gaze. He takes your hand in his own, lowering it over his heart. “I swear I’ll protect you, stay beside you and any child of ours, biological or not.” “I know you will.” You smile, pressing your forehead against his own. You were touched by his vow. Adam, as normal, stayed up later than you. He often found himself resenting sleep, because it took him away from you for hours. Not that his dreams were without you. Adam stroked your hair, pushing it out of your face as you cuddled in closer to him. But tonight, he allowed himself to indulge in a fantasy he had rejected from his mind. He thought of a child. Adam couldn’t picture what he/she would look like, but he imagined the spirit. He thought of waking up with a little human bouncing onto the bed, shaking you awake. He thought of little footsteps running through the house. Of tripping over toys, of late nights, early mornings, tantrums, laughter. And of love.

[babaweeen]

Faith and Numbers

Korrasami 

Chapter 5

“He’s really still not talking to you?”

Korra sighs, obvious indifference spread across her face. “Nope.” Is all she offers the other girl as she relocates supplies from her locker to her backpack. 

Asami offers a solom smile from where she leans on the locker next to Korra’s. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault.” She turns away to watch the rush of students coursing through the hall. 

Korra looks up before flinging her backpack over her shoulder and slamming her locker a little too forcefully, drawing her attention back. “No. None of the blame is on you, It was my decision to ditch them three weeks ago.” 

“Yeah but it was my idea.” She replies, looking down at her feet. 

Korra’s face softens as she steps closer to the raven haired girl. “That you only had..” She pauses slightly as she takes Asami’s hand, “To make me feel better.” 

Asami opens her mouth to counter but is soon taken aback by Korra’s lips meeting her own tenderly. Korra lingers for a moment before pulling back to continue, “He’ll get over it.” She finishes with a comforting smile. 

“Spirits! You’ve known each other for three weeks and you’ve already gotten to PDA?!” 

Both girls turn to see Bolin covering his eyes. Korra rolls her eyes, stepping away from Asami, who chuckles at her new friend’s antics. Over the past couple of weeks the two of them have gotten to know the taller girl pretty well. 

Mako had been M.I.A since he ran into Tenzin on his way out of Narooks, finding out the girls had lied to him. He even stopped giving Korra and Bolin rides to school, leaving every morning before Bolin could even wake up. Asami gladly stepped in, taking any excuse to both be away from home longer and to see Korra more often, plus she liked Bolin. 

“I’m sorry to do this, but it’s time for me to steal Korra away for practice.” He says, dropping his act. 

Asami chuckles once more, giving Korra a peck on the cheek before making her exit. “I’ll be in the library.” 

“Love you sweetie!” Bolin calls out in a high pitched voice. He turns to Korra with an exaggerated lovey dovey expression, “Ugh! I miss her already.” 

Korra punches him lightly on the shoulder as she chuckles. “Shut up Bo.”

“I’m serious! She’s awesome, I may just need to take her for myself.” He says, bumping shoulders as they begin walking down the hall. 

Korra spins around, walking backwards in order to watch as Asami continues to walk in the other direction. “Sorry Bo, you can try but she’s all mine.” She continues to watch, entranced by the elegance the other girl effortlessly emits. 

“Psh, don’t underestimate me avatar.” 

To this, Korra merely rolls her eyes at her friend, knowing he’d never really do anything to hurt her. Once the girl rounds the corner Korra spins back around. 

“So, is Mako still giving you the silent treatment?” Bolin asks, irritation evident in his voice.  

“Yup. You?” She responds. 

“Yup.” 

Korra sighs. “I’m sorry Bo, it’s my fault.”

“Honestly, I don’t blame you for lying. I realise we kind of imposed on your guyses first date. Plus you apologized multiple times!” He offers. 

She sighs again, bringing her hand up to the back of her neck. “I still shouldn’t have lied.” 

“Even then, it doesn’t excuse his behavior in the slightest. He’s left us hanging for weeks, he didn’t even care if we found another way to school or not. I mean we don’t need him but it’s still uncool!” Bolin huffs, adjusting his duffle bag up his shoulder aggressively. “He’s also been a complete dick during practices, ever since he was officially named captain he’s been taking it all out on the team. Like, I get wanting us to work hard but he’s been downright mean.”

Korra’s eyebrows knit together with worry. “What do you mean?”

“Well, last practice a freshman was late because he got held back in class and Mako made him run laps for the entire practice.” Bolin exclaims in his usual dramatic fashion, throwing his hands up. “It was brutal!”

“Coach Beifong just let that happen?!” Korra inquiries incredulously.

“Sometimes she lets Mako run practice on his own, she’s had family business lately. Something about her sister moving to town soon.” He answers, shrugging. 

“Well, this is all getting out of hand. We’ve never gone this long without talking, not even after the whole Jade situation.” She says, chuckling slightly at the memory. “I’ll get him to talk to me, I can smooth this all over.” 

Their conversation is drawn to a close as they reach the entrance of the locker rooms. 

“Alright, catch you later avatar.” Bolin says before disappearing into his locker room. 

Korra sighs, deep in thought about how she was going to get Mako to listen to her, let alone offer up his own feelings. Korra felt horrible for letting the situation get this out of hand, Mako was mad at her, not Bolin and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him take out his frustrations with her on his brother. She wasn’t entirely sure how this whole thing started but she was sure that the blame was all her own. And even then, she knows it was her who made the whole thing worse by lying to the boy. 

The younger girl wasn’t usually the type to seek out forgiveness, she wasn’t even really the type to go out of her way to apologize. She was someone who held her pride close to her heart, resenting the feeling of vulnerability but the boys had always been the exception. She thought back to the aforementioned situation with Jade. 

Back when the three were still in middle school they found themselves all developing feelings for the same girl at their soccer camp. This was still at the beginning of their friendship, maybe a year in. Jade was someone who began to make her way into the threes friendship slightly, spending time with the three more often than not. She was gorgeous and sweet, beautiful fair skin and glowing apricot colored hair, it was no surprise that they’d all fallen head over heels for the girl. 

Once they’d all become aware of the feelings the three had developed they made a pact that none of them would act on them. Both because they didn’t want to lose the girl as a friend and because none of them wanted to be rejected by the beautiful girl. Though, of course, as you may have predicted, none of them actually followed it. Mako was probably the least shameless in his attempts at courting the young girl, always insisting on paying for her meals, finding every reason to grab her hand, offering an extensive amount of help on her drills to which she was all apathetic towards. 

Bolin was more sweet and innocent in his attempts, always complimenting her outfits, holding open doors, leaving hand picked wild flowers at her bunk. He’d even written her a fair amount of love letters and poems. She was always sweet with Bolin, always letting him down as gently as possible, not wanting to hurt her friend. 

Korra was perhaps the only one of the three who really tried to keep her pact. After everything she’d gotten away from in the Southern Water Tribe, she didn’t want to ruin it. She didn’t want to mess up the real connections she’d finally managed to create. Her and Jade were extremely close, she was the first person to ever open up to about her past, the first person she’d ever let herself cry in front of. The bond the two shared was special, it was effortless. 

Korra knew the boys had gone back on their pact but she didn’t care, she found it quite amusing to watch the two climbing over each other to win the girls affection to no effect. She knew the boys wouldn’t let it get between them, they’re brothers after all. She felt that things were okay the way they were. Well, until they weren’t.

It was late at night, Jade had managed to convince her once again to sneak out and practice their techniques on the empty, dimly lit field.

“She weaves right! Weaves left! Runs right through the other team's star player!”  Young Korra shouts as she runs right by Jade. “And she shoots all the way from center field aaaand……” 

Korra pauses her monologue with a huff as she shoots the ball. The two watch the ball intently, with great anticipation as they wait to see whether or not it goes into the goal. The ball goes straight in the center of the goal with a loud swoosh and Korra jumps. 

“And she scores!!! The crowd goes wild! Ahhhh.” She shouts, mimicking the sound of a screaming audience. 

Jade watches the girl admiringly as she dances happily across the field. “Alight alright, settle down superstar. Games not over yet.” She says with an amused smirk 

“Au contraire, I’ve practically got you beat!” Korra replies as she retrieves the ball from the net. 

“Confident are we?” Jade says smugly as she gets into position. 

Korra doesn’t provide a verbal response, instead she tosses the ball starting the next round. This time, Jade manages to get control of the ball, attempting to juggle passed Korra. Though the other girl is making it extremely difficult, blocking every attempt the girl makes to get the ball passed her. After a few good minutes of the two fighting for the ball Jade decides enough is enough. She begins her attempt at some complicated sike out but miscalculates, ending up entangling her legs with Korra’s, bringing them both down. 

The two laugh as they lay on the ground. “Nice one peaches.” Korra says through the giggles. Though the giggles soon die out as they realize the position they’re in. Jade had managed to fall straight onto Korra, legs still slightly entangled, leaving the two face to face. 

They lay their still for a moment, blush creeping up on both of their cheeks, staring into eachothers eyes. The two look away, faces burning, laughing awkwardly but still, neither girl attempting to move. 

Jade looks up, locking their eyes once again, this time with a new found confidence. She leans in, capturing the other girls lips into her own. It was messy and awkward and quick but to be fair, neither of them really had any experience. Jade pulls away quickly after, moving to stand and ready to apologize but is quickly stopped by Korra pulling her in once more. This time the kiss was deeper and filled with purpose, and it was all consuming for both girls. This is how they stayed for about an hour, until they heard Toza’s cabin door open.  

The next day Korra felt terrible. She had feelings for Jade but she just couldn’t go through with something she knew would hurt both boys, and that’s exactly what she told Jade. She was completely understanding, agreeing it was best for them to just remain friends. But again, they couldn’t go through with it. They managed to keep things platonic for about a week but found it getting harder and harder as time went on. After that week the two made their late night makeout session on the field a regular occurrence. And once again, things were good, until they weren’t.

About a month into their loosely defined relationship, the two were out late at night, in a heated make out session on the bleachers of their field when they’re interrupted by a heartbroken Bolin. He had been out chasing his fire ferret Pabu, who had gotten out. Before either of them could stop him, the boy ran crying back to his and Mako’s bunk. 

Mako of course was furious, he didn’t talk to either girl for days. Avoiding them at all costs and dragging Bolin with him. Bolin couldn’t even look at either of them without tearing up. Korra however was able to patch it up quickly. She managed to corner the two before practice one day and of course, they fought at first, very fiercely, but soon they all admitted to how much they’d missed each other in their time apart. The two boys got over their heartbreak and the two girls were able to finally make it official. 

They dated for the rest of summer but ended up saying goodbye on the last day of camp, knowing they had no way of staying in touch due to the fact that Jade was only in republic city for the summer. Once camp was over it was time for Jade to go back to Ba Sing Sei and the four ended on good terms. 

Korra sighed, wishing that this time would be as easy but she knew it wouldn’t be. She knew it had to be really bad for him to shut Bolin out as well.

---------------------------------------

 “Alright girls! Great hustle today, go get cleaned up and remember, if you need extra help with anything just come talk to me! I’ll be happy to schedule extra practice hours one on one!” Korra shouts as the girls begin to run off the field.

Once she sees all the girls have cleared out she begins to gather her own things from the bleachers. “Hey Captain, I think I need a little one on one training of my own.”

Korra smiles as she hears the sweet voice from behind her. She laughs as she turns to face the girl. “I thought you were going to be in the library.” 

Asami laughs as she steps closer to Korra, leaning in for a kiss. Though she’s disappointed when Korra steps back, avoiding the girl. She frowns, confused, afraid she might have overstepped.

Korra senses this and quickly explains. “I don’t think you want to do that, I’m really sweaty.”  

The girl steps back and feigns disgust before speaking again. “I was but I knew you and Bolin would most likely be starving so,” She pauses as she reveals the bag of take out from the diner down the street. “I went out and got us all some burgers.” 

Korra dramatically holds her hands over her heart and gasps. “You are too good to us Asami Sato.” 

Asami laughs, rolling her eyes at the girls playful antics. “I got an extra meal just in case Mako wants to join us.” She says slightly bashfully. 

“Oh awesome! I was planning on ambushing him before he leaves, this makes the perfect peace offering!” She says excitedly, kissing her cheek quickly and gratefully before rushing passed. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up, I’ll meet you in the quad?” She says, turning to face the girl as she continues to slowly walk backwards in the direction of the locker rooms.

“I’ll go get Bolin.” She adds in agreement, walking off in her own direction. 

Korra smiles, turning around and heading toward the gymnasium to get changed. Once she’s finished washing off in the school showers she begins to pack her gym clothes and cleats into her duffle bag. As she packs her things she can’t help but rack her brain, trying to figure out what it was that she’d actually done to hurt the boy enough to shut out the only family he has left. This whole attitude shift started around the time her numbers shifted but that information seems arbitrary. 

---------------------------------------

“Bo!” Asami yells after seeing the boy walk into the courtyard. 

The boy's smile grows as his eyes land on Asami sitting at a table, take-out bags in front of her. “‘Sami!” He shouts in response, plopping down onto the bench across. “Ooo! Whatcha got there?” 

“I figured you guys would be hungry after practice so I went and picked up some burgers.” She explains as she pulls out a meal for Bolin. 

Bolin gasps as she hands him his meal. “Extra meat, extra cheese, extra pickle, no onion?! You know me so well!” He exclaims as he reaches to accept. 

Asami laughs as she watches the shorter boy stuff as much food in his mouth as humanly possible. “I got one for Mako just in case, but I'm sure if he refuses you’d be happy to take it off his hands.” 

The boy nods frantically, cheeks puffed to 3 times their normal size.

Asami just rolls her eyes, amaused, as she takes one of his fries. “I don’t understand how you could eat so much and still be so scrawny.”

“Excuse you! I’m slim, not scrawny.” He says as he runs his hand over his stomach. “And what can I say? It’s a gift.”

A moment of silence falls as Bolin continues to eat and Asami opens up her robotics text book, starting on homework as she usually did when they hung out after school. 

“So…” Bolin says, pausing briefly to swallow his food. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Why is it that you and Korra are keeping this whole thing quiet? If I was the first to find my match I’d be screaming it from the top of the building…. Quite literally.” 

The raven haired girl shrugs, “I don’t know. It’s not that we’re keeping it a secret or anything, I guess we want to focus on getting to know each other before we’re thrown into the schools spotlight.” 

“But everyone will be so excited for you guys! This is the biggest thing to happen to this school since… well, ever!” He says excitedly. “Most people don’t even get their numbers until senior year, if at all! You guys will be all anyone can talk about for ages!” 

Asami sighed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I think I’ve had enough of people talking about me. It’s refreshing having someone want to know me instead of thinking they already do. I don’t want to ruin that.” She pauses for a moment, cracking a smile before continuing. “Besides, I don't think I was born for the spotlight like you.”

Bolin spits his food out dramatically, causing Asami to flinch as a chunk of lettuce lands on her shoulder. “You’re ASAMI SATO! You were born IN the spotlight! But I understand, I do have that mover star charisma.” He finishes with a pose. 

Asami carefully picks the lettuce off her shoulder carefully as a smug voice picks up behind her. 

“Asami Sato? As in billion dollar heiress of the Satomobile empire?” The two turn to see a tall green eyed girl with coal black hair tied up into a loose ponytail. Asami turns to Bolin, slightly annoyed by the boy's announcement of her full name. Bolin on the other hand is too busy scowling at the girl in front of them. 

“What’s it to you Kuvira, shouldn’t you be off kicking puppies or something?” Bolin says, taking his raven haired friend by surprise as she’s never seen him anything but sickeningly happy.

“Well I am the sophomore class president. I should know who my loyal subjects are shouldn’t I?” She retorts, moving closer to the pair, taking a seat next to Asami. 

“You’re class president Kuvira, not the freaking queen.”  Bolin spits. 

“My my, little Bolin has really grown up hasn’t he? I remember when I had to stand up to the bullies for you.” She replies with a laugh. She smirks as the boy blushes, then turns to face Asami, looking her up and down before reaching for her hair. “Well aren’t you a pretty one? Perfect posture, beautiful features, silky hair…” 

Asami scowls slightly, pulling her hair away from the other girl. “Thanks, but I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from touching me.” 

“My apologies your highness.” She replies in an exaggerated tone, bowing her head before getting back up out of her seat. “You should be more careful with that attitude Asami Sato, people might think you’re a little too entitled.” She says more venomously as she begins to walk backwards, then turning around to make her exit. “If they don’t already.”

Once the girl had disappeared into the profanity covered doors of the main corridor, the two let staleness she brought with her dissolve out of the air. “Wow. Now I see why Korra decked her with a soccer ball.” Asami says, turning to Bolin. “Can she do it again?”

Bo chuckles. “Yeah, she wasn’t always such a jerk.” He pauses looking back at the corridor she disappeared in uncomfortably. “Or such a creep.” He finishes with a dramatic shiver.

“Talk about Republic City Psycho.” Asami retorts, catching Bolin off guard. 

The boy perks up at the reference, almost knocking over his soda in excitement. “You know that mover?!” He exclaims. 

“Are you kidding me? Of course I do! I’m kind of a nut for all those old classic movers.” Asami says, matching the boy's excitement. The two begin to exchange their analysis of their favorite movers as they wait for Korra and, hopefully, Mako to arrive. 

---------------------------------------                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Once Korra had finished up in the locker room she bee lined straight for the door, knocking down a couple duffle bags on her trail. She was too eager to go confront Mako to slow down, throwing apologies over her shoulder. Her teammates simply rolled their eyes in amusement, already knowing the nature of their captain. 

“Hey Korra, wait up!” Izumi calls out as the girl rushed past. 

Pulling her hand away from the door knob, she turns to her teammate with a patient smile. “What’s up Iz?” 

“I’m sorry, I know you’re in a rush but I was hoping I could talk to you about the game next thursday.” She says a little nervously. “I know I’m not in leadership or anything but I had some ideas that I wanted to talk to you about and maybe even help push into motion -”

“Izumi!” Korra interrupts amusedly, placing her hands on the other girls shoulders reassuringly. “I’d love to hear them. Why don’t we go talk in Coach Miyuki’s office?” 

Stepping into the office, Izumi is taken aback by all the historical looking relics spread all through the room. The office is small, just about what you’d expect from a girls soccer coach. The walls are painted a deep red, worn out tapestries hanging all across them, each one painted in what looks like ancient japanese prophecies. There were bookshelves placed on both the east and west sides of the room, filled to the brim with old books and collectables. A beige couch and coffee table set placed directly to your right as you enter. 

Korra notices Izumi's look of awe as she makes her way to the very back of the office, where Miyuki’s desk sat. She took a seat behind it as she addressed the girl still standing at the threshold, “First time in Miyuki’s office I see.”

Izumi chuckles as she’s snapped out of her thoughts. “This is definitely not what I was expecting,” she says as she takes a seat across from Korra. “Are you allowed to be behind her desk?”

“Oh not at all. She’d kill me if she saw me on her back here but it makes me feel so official.” Korra says with a laugh. “So, what did you wanna talk about.” 

Izumi shifts in her seat, “Right so, I know we’re a pretty good team already. I mean I heard last year you guys actually made it to the semi-finals, mostly thanks to you and Kuvira.”

“Oh stop it, flattery will get you everywhere.” Korra interrupts jokingly.

Izumi laughs along before continuing. “ But we can always be better. I really think we need to get to know eachother better as a unit. You know, like the way we all think, I really feel like it would help us know eachother better on the field.” She finishes unsurely. 

Korra thinks for a minute. As much as she hates Kuvira, she does know her very well from their time as friends, and Izumi’s right, it really does help her while they’re on the field. 

“I think you’re right. We're all great players on our own but I think it’s time we become great players together.” Korra pauses for another minute to deliberate. “I’ll start drawing up some ideas for some group exercises and maybe t-

“That all sounds great but I actually have an idea on how we can start.” Izumi says quickly, cutting off her captain. 

“Oh, what did you have in mind?” Korra asks.

“A party.” She replies quietly.

“A... party?” The taller girl says, contemplating. “ I love it!”

Izumi instantly visibly relaxes at this, chuckling slightly at the other girl's excitement. “A party makes perfect sense. The girls would be a little reluctant at the idea of bonding exercises but this will definitely open them up.” Korra continues.

“Yes exactly! It’s actually why I came to you and not coach, she couldn’t legally condone underaged drinking but I think it's just what we need. I read somewhere that breaking the rules together boosts team morale while at the same time bringing us closer together.” She says excitedly. 

“It isn't much of a party with just us tho is it?” Korra contemplates out loud. 

“Which is exactly why I think we should invite the boys team as well. They need this as much as we do and it would be pretty cool if we were more supportive at each other's games since one of us is always there waiting for the field.” She replies.

Korra laughs for a minute. “This is gonna be such a cliche.” 

“Cliches are cliches for a reason right?” Izumi replies. 

---------------------------------------

“Korra!” 

Korra laughs as she sees Bolin jump out of his seat when she comes into view. “Settle down Bo, we don't want you throwing up that heart attack of a burger I assume you just swallowed whole.” She says as she walks up to the table. 

“Who’s your friend?” Asami asks, smiling politely at the smaller auburn haired girl standing behind her girlfriend. 

“This my raven haired goddess, is Izumi. She’s one of the girls from the soccer team.” She says dramatically as she introduces the younger girl. “And she is here, to help us plan a party.” 

Bolin instantly perks up at the mention of a party. “Lets freaking goooo!” 

The three girls chuckle at his antics, “Why don’t you take a seat next to Bolin Izumi. We have an extra burger with your name on it if you're hungry.” Korra says as she takes a seat next to Asami. Izumi instantly perks up as the raven haired girl places food in front of her and Korra.

“So it didn’t go well with Mako then?” Asami asks after giving Korra a peck on her cheek as Korra takes a bite of her burger.

“I didn’t actually get a chance to talk to him.” She replies once she’s swallowed her first bite. “But thanks to Izumi and this party idea, We’ll all have the perfect opportunity to talk to him.”

“What is this whole party about anyway? I mean don’t get me wrong I’m always down for a party, I’m just wondering.” Bolin says, turning to Izumi. 

“Basically we’re just hoping it’ll boost morale and get the teams closer together.” Izumi replies, setting her burger down to speak. “It’ll be just the two soccer teams and dates and lots of alcohol.”

[kn1ghthawk]

Good Dogs and Bad people

He couldn't go home, not back to sanctuary hills, not yet. He was already under the powerlines of the raiders camp and from up on the hill he could see some sort of building surrounding a power line. It was a sign of something being built after the bombs, a sign of life, not death. Picking down the hill assent hard and he soon found himself in a familiar army shuffle for only a few second before he felt something horrible grab him by the chest and made him go down in a tumble into the dirt. He fumbled and punched himself with a stim right in the chest, but it didn't help, it wasn't a wound. It hadn't burned like this since anchorage, hypothermia, the cryotanks. Fuck. Not counting the fucking roaches chewing down to the bone, a skeleton takes about ten years. And however long it took them to grow that big he was on ice for at least a year without people watching for problems after the others left, he only popped out from malfunction. He could have died on ice so some frostbite in the lungs is better than dead. No running until a real doctor gets a look, if there even is one. Finally crawling back to his feet, he walked to the building on the horizon. Just before the farm itself he saw something wonderful, a melon, he hadn't realized how hungry he was until he was already on his knees and bashing it open on the vine. A hand scooped up the pink pulp and crammed it into his face just as he heard the cocking of a gun. “I know they're good, but we don't take kindly to thieves. You damn well better have some caps for helping yourself without asking.” With a hard gulp, he pointed to the bag with his sopping wet hand and stayed looking at the wall of what was becoming obvious to be a ramshackle farmhouse. There was a rustle of fabric and a zipping sound followed by a retching cough. “Goddamn you, you killed... raiders? Wait, those raiders up north a spell? You, did us a favor taking them out. Oh hell, have the melon, on me! Just tell my dad you bought it. Actually, go talk to my dad anyways, he might have another job for you if you don’t mind killing these bastards.” The sound of a metal clicking, but no gunshot, hopefully meant the hammer went down smoothly as a young woman circled around into view. Vic took the peace for the chance to dig back in, making a proper slopping mess of his face as he ate a few good pounds of warm watery mash before sitting back and coming up for air. By then a man named Abernathy came around the corner and a few words were exchanged and Vic was lead through the house to the roof where he could make out an all too familiar satellite dish to the east. He knew Olivia, it was where he was stationed for six months when he came back from overseas, a cushier position as he was being discharged with honnors. He could sit and listen for Chinese broadcasts while they sent the nested boy to the front on rotation. The straight path from here to there had him passing across the red rocket, a place he had just gotten a mechanic job from leaving the army completely. They were happy to get a vet like him on the board for the sweet government bonus. It seemed like a good place to get himself situated on the way to do something dirty. It was one thing to stop the torture of the animal and fighting in self defense, but this wasn't his daughter, this wasn't Nora, this was being a killer for cash. Could he bring himself to do it? Stopping off at the rocket ended up being one of the best decisions he ever made, not only did he find a wonderful dog in need of someone, he managed to clear out the ugliest fucking things he had ever seen. Well ugly cause they looked like crawling tubes of that same blistered blubbery flesh the cow and the guy looked like. They were like some kind of giant rat with two full sets of teeth he did NOT want to let them get too close and clearing out the cave underneath rewarded him in some good but disturbing ways. He took the better part of a whole day clearing out everything from everywhere he had the strength to do so. There was enough of the machine shop and tools left for him to to what he needed to tidy up and tear apart any of the raiders gear and keep what he needed. He had two of the 10 mm pistols, 2 batons, a shotgun, and three homemade guns out of pipe and boards. He took the best parts of the three to make one and the bits he used with the other full ten to improve just one of them. He now had a pitiful rifle and his better ten in a holster on his right leg armor sewn directly into the leather plate.

It reminded him of the lead-lined leather training armor the army used, to get soldiers used to uncomfortable heavy weight and constraints of movement. Real combat armor wasn't as bad as the leathers, but the idea was to make it overly difficult so the real thing seemed so much lighter and maneuverable that the solider benefited more in the field. But as the pip boys Geiger started clicking, he might want some lead lining sooner than later. He didn't even remember when he passed out at the office desk, but the fact he woke up still here helped cement the insanity of the situation. He was going to go kill the bastards who killed a little girl who stood up to them, yes, bastards, children of unmarried mothers, sons of bitches and whores, dehumanize them. They aren't real people, its easier to kill if they aren't real people. * Keeping northeast was easy, passing across concord on the right from the hill, something to sweep back around to later. The closer they got to the dish, he took a moment to stop and pull out the rifle to start with seeing if he could get a better assessment with the scope and maybe drop a few with pot-shots. It ended up not being needed as those same ugly rats were already attacking the few scouts outside. The bad news is they were already alert and fighting, the good news is that it wasn't a human enemy so they were not looking for someone in blue suit taking them out. The one up high was the only one he had to concern himself with as the other apparently threw a grenade too close and took himself out with the ugly beast. He hit her in the leg which managed to make her loose her balance and fell down the stairs, gravity broke her neck for him. He waited a few minutes to see if backup would be coming, but nothing new emerged. Either they didn't hear in the bunker, or explosions were so common that it wasn't warranted. He seriously hoped the former for the sake of people, otherwise, what was the point of living without humanity? Slipping inside it was just like how he remembered it, except for the obvious disarray that seemed to ruin everything without maintenance. The check-in desk was still operational, on a hunch, he tried his old access but was denied, he had to hope for an easy win but that didn't seem to be the plan. He heard voices to the left so he started there, Spotting one through the window with a dog on the walkway. If his dog's prowess proved anything, the dogs were more dangerous than the people who could get a good shot off if the dogs had them busy. So he took a breath to apologize to the canine and took them out with the first shot. While the owner was still sweeping, he shot them in the shoulder and send them back into some rusted railing that gave way to let them fall below. Now they were on full alert which was going to make this a lot more painful. He moved for the bathroom quickly after switching to pistol, knowing only one entrance would limit their choices but rounding the corner put him face-to face with another shotgun. The distance was too far away for effect as they blasted buckshot harmlessly, he returned fire with the more accurate weapon and put three in the chest. Apparently he wasn't the only one with the same idea as someone came running out of the bathroom with a tire iron. Since they were running, he shot them in the leg to make them stagger and let the momentum do his job for him as they crumpled against the wall with a sickening pop against the pipes.

With the sounds of  gunfire now obvious from up high, he would have to fall back and try from around and below, perhaps even taking on any few people sent to circle behind his position. His suspicion proved fruitful as his crouched position on the stairs put him right at head level for another raider, the belts holding the cloth hood help keep it a monstrosity as the pistol pops and he moves on, now finally hearing voices of alert. He moved down to the hallways to the locker room and just barely managed to get to cover from the counter top as he saw a barrel of a mini gun bobbing through the doorway. He took a breath and changed his magazine as his pet started to snarl with hackles raised. “Just a fucking dog?” He heard a woman's voice and popped up to empty his fresh set before she could spin up the heavy weapon in defense. As soon as it was spent, he dropped the empty clip and slammed the half spent back in to take on anyone left which happened to be a screaming raider with a rifle he was more focused on using like a spear with the fixed bayonet. The dog leapt, biting into the rifle which added too much weight for him to keep the attack and exposed him to two shots that made him fall next. Fire flashed up Vics side as he took a hit to the hip, spinning him around to see a raider who had come behind him, most likely circling around the generator while he was busy with the other two. He only got one more shot before the gun ran dry. The dog gave him the precious second for Vic to pull out the rifle and fire off a wild shot into the belly, then a second and a third before they fell. He was hit and the dog was hit, but they were both alive. NO more noises, no more shouting or gunfire. Six against one and he felt he was finally finished. He fell back against the counter and took out another stimpack, putting it in near the wound to aid in pushing the round back out and one more for the dog as well, even if it was a bad graze, he didn't want to risk infection. While he tried to catch his breath to let the shock come an go, the dog licking his hand idly before it found a teddy bear to play with. When the bear was flung about, an army helmet came off its chin that banged against the locker that made Vic roll off the counter to hit the deck, only to look up at a panting companion who seemed to wonder what the human found down there. “Bad dog.” Was all he said before getting to his knees and rubbing the dogs ears. He started to do as he had done before, stripping down all the weapons and armor of the raiders while reloading his guns, coming up and down the walkways and remembering how it used to look. The odd thing was not finding the locket on anyone, an easily pocketed keepsake. That lead to going through every drawer in the the desk and cupboard with growing frustration. Had he been sent on a suicide mission or just sent out to kill some random people? It was then that he realized he hadn't checked the fuel storage, which brought him to a door in mid attempt of being picked. This brought him back before it all went to hell, a locked door is how him and nora had met. His dad had been a locksmith that fixed clocks on the side, they often fought about taking up the family business but he still knew how to twist a tumbler. It is what let him open the door for a lovely brunet stuck out in the rain and got his foot in the door for a date. The problem was the screwdriver being used to hold down the barrel was a Phillips and not a flat-head. Opening the toolbox revealed the hidden locket. Mission accomplished, but curiosity had the better of him as he tried his luck to see what was left in the locked room. There was oil on the floor and in the air, not to mention the squelching hiss of not just one of those damn roaches but it was glowing all on its own in the dark. He fired off a pot shot that hit it but sparked the vapor in the air into an intense firestorm for a few seconds as various things hiss, popped and exploded. But from out of the flames came a roach as big as a card table, seeming unfazed by the fire. Panic set in as he fired three, then three more, then the rest and it still closed the distance to bite his ankle. He could feel the cut and the blood filling his boot as he went to the bayoneted rifle leveled at him earlier and stabbed down hard, again and again as it screeched and fluttered, managing to get the blade between the wings with its shell out of the way and split it down the back. Nauseating muck exploded out the back like a boot the size of a Buick had been dropped on it as it lost the ability to move and bled out. Idle twitching was all that was left as he fell back on his ass and took to treating the wound, the boot would work as a shoe for the walk home, but it needed a patch badly, same for the armor that saved him from loosing the foot entirely. He could limp, but he couldn't run, not that he could before coming down here anyways. He used the tire iron to make an L-brace and tied it off with a harness of belts to keep his ankle straight while searching the rest of the room, he found one last solider had locked himself in to wait it all out, but he didn't seem to count on the fumes doing him in. At least they had the whole keyring for opening upstairs. 

He looked around and took what he needed before deciding it was time to reunite the family. As a cruel joke, he put the mini-gun on one of the locker doors with all the other weapons and used it as a sled to drag the weapon over hill and dale to the farm. If he was in full health he could have shouldered it, but he really didn't want to put that strain on his ankle until he had time to patch it up proper. He made it back to the rocket and stopped there for the night, unloading the weapons and breaking them down when he noticed something, The rifle he killed the big bug with had a series of scratches carved into its side with what he guessed were names:

Rad: III III III Blood: III Bloat: III III III Sting: I Mire: III On the other side of it carved into the wood was the words “dies bugs die”. Not a motto he could fault really, after his experiences so far with just one kind of ugly-bugly. Still, there was something in the quality of the wood and the way it was kept until now made it noticeably more sturdy so he spent part of the night taking apart all of the previous rifle bits to set up this newest rifle with the greatest pieces so far and a few simple adjustments he was capable of at the moment. It reminded him of his time recovering from his first flash wounds, he had been with his fellows on the front lines when someone from the treeline hurled a core into the encampment and someone shot it in midair. He only had time to assume the fetal position behind a steel shipping crate. The fission fire gave him third degrees across the side of his face and all of his right arm that had the nylon fibers melted onto his skin like napalm met a candle wax. While he was in recovery, he had optioned to use his recovery time to get schooled and make himself a better mechanic before being redeployed. He ended up in something of a M.A.S.H. Meets motor pool. As a first degree mechanic, it was his job to run 10 feet behind the real commandos in armored infantry and fix them if they fell, swapping out one limb set for another if it got damaged or destroyed. He even rigged a few high powered magnets to his own chassis to magnetize the frame so his tools stuck on the surface in easy reach. Any parts broken or bent he would ship back behind the front lines and request a new one. Now he is where all those parts went to, the limbs and bits would arrive in a truckload, they would spend hours knocking the pieces back into serviceable repair and ship them back out again to whoever made the requisition for new pieces. Not every part made it back to its first owner or battalion. But if the stars aligned, he would take any custom paint or tucked in photos and put it in the order going back out that way to try and get any sort of lucky charm where it needed to be. If there were no power armor bits to work on, laughable as that was, he would lend a hand to the gun nuts. Mostly the work was to strip broken modules down to base bits and fill crates with small mods like stocks or scopes for the soldiers to fit for themselves. It was good work that let him learn more practical applications and effective recycling that he got to use now of all places to pick apart old broken boards with bars belted to it into something far more effective. * He got some good rest and in the night the Shepard even brought him a second tire iron to make a splint on both sides of the repaired boot. He still needed a doc for the limp, but he would walk for the day. On the way back to the farm, he found out what blood and bloat stood for on the rifle. Clearly the mosquitoes the size of motorcycles and the fat flies that squirted wiggling thorny maggots were not going to be the other bugs he would meet. He made it to the farm just before sunset with the good news that the day ended with justice done. Now he had, maybe not friends yet, but people who knew him for a good deed. He gave over the raider leaders heavy weapon to the father so he could defend their farm more easily, just leveling that cannon would make the next raider think twice. The mother was willing to trade some things and explained to him the caps system this new world used. Since they all had a set number of crimps and were no longer being made, it gave the idea of a limited number of hard to reproduce items. If the paint was too damaged or a hole shot through one or cut in half, they were made worthless by anyone else. Everyone was mostly back to the barter system more than carrying bags of lightweight caps or coins. “Well what do you do with any of the old paper money in registers or on dead people?” “Same thing you would do with a good piece of cotton: Save it for the outhouse and wash it off for next time.”

[haydenbarnes]

Terminus | Self Paragraph

TRIGGER WARNING: MURDER

In the half light of the alley, Hayden’s body casts disfigured patterns on the grey walls. The only change in them is his chest rising and falling, and his hands that he hadn’t even realized were shaking so badly. His jaw stung, he could taste the metallic blood that dripped from his nose. His right eye was barely able to stay open but it had to because he couldn’t stop staring. He couldn’t stop himself from staring as the blood matted itself into his hair or leaked out onto the ground. Hayden knew he should be running right now, he should be getting to a car and driving south never stopping for anything but gas. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t even move. 

“I’m just going down to the 7/11, Riss, you need anything?” Hayden shouted as he sat on the browning, beat-up, second-hand couch and tied the laces of his boots. Since the fire, Hayden and Marissa had started to put patches over the last few years. They’d talked things out properly and had come to a mutual understanding with each other to let things die; to turn to a new chapter. It was refreshing having his best friend back. But, he was worried about her mental state, and after Scotty’s house party where she had been beaten up by some jumped up ex-business associates son he was worried about her safety too. He knew better than anyone how the past can come to haunt you. 

There was no reply to his question, he furrowed his brow. “Marissa?” He called out as he moved through the apartment towards the room she’d been staying in. His fist rattled the wood before slowly opening the door. “Riss--” he said gently as he put his head through the crack and then saw she wasn’t in. “Weird...”. He was sure he hadn’t heard the door open. Hayden went to the front and sure enough, her keys were gone. Not giving it too much more thought, he grabbed his own set and threw them in his pocket before heading out.

Phone in hand, Hayden texted whilst he was walking into the center of Dayton. Let me know if you want anything in for when you get home, I’ll be at the 7/11 in twenty minutes so you got until then. You good? He pressed send and slid his phone back into his pocket, replacing it with a cigarette and lighter. There was always a sense of satisfaction as his thumb rolled over the metal flint wheel and created a spark first time. It wasn’t as good as that first lung fill from the first drag, but it was a close second. 

For being in California, Dayton had an eery chill this late at night. The wind whipped around Hayden and caused him to pull his jacket tighter around his body as he jogged across the road onto the other sidewalk and turned the corner. He could hear the buzz of life ahead of him in the nightlife district. He looked down at his wrist; 11:09. It was the hour of the night that determined the following seven. Either you were calling it a day and heading home to bed, or you were committing to seeing the sunrise. There were no half measures in Dayton’s scene; all in or all out.

Hayden didn’t want any trouble, and he certainly didn’t want to be roped into staying out any longer than he had intended to be away from home for. He was trying to sober up a little bit, trying to stop taking the edge off every five hours which was the state he had got to before Marissa had moved in. So, he decided to take the back alley route through the club scene, a concrete maze he had worked his way around when escorting bloody, beaten and bruised patrons of The Labyrinth away from the business without drawing any untoward attention. 

He was just getting to the back of the business in question when his attention was taken away from his path by the backdoors flinging open followed by a young man being quite literally thrown out into the alley. “If you show your face in here again, you won’t be able to walk for a month! You’re being watched, dickhead.”. The venomous tones of one of Ainsley’s other henchmen spat before slamming the doors closed. The man stumbled up to his feet and staggered to the doors, smashing his fists on them. 

“I didn’t fucking cheat! Since when is being more clever than the dealer cheating?!” He shouted with pain, panic, and fear clear as day in his voice. 

Hayden sighed and shook his head, dropping his gaze and composing himself as he felt that guilt begin to flood through his body. He could deal with it when he was involved. When he was the one throwing the punches and making the decisions. When the adrenaline was coursing through his veins, causing a better high than any combination of cocaine and heroin. He could deal with it then. But, watching and hearing the aftermath of actions he too committed was almost too much. It pulled at his moral heartstrings. Especially today. The anniversary of his Father getting murdered for mistakes he made. 

“You’ll pay for this!” The guy carried on, clearly on some kind of adrenaline side effect where things were coming out like word vomit. “This whole place will pay for this! I-- I-- I’ll go to the press! Ainsley FUCKING Slater is going to be on every newspaper front page tomorrow!”

Hayden’s eyes flicked open, darkness flooded into his pupils. His chest dropped and his hands curled into fists. His jaw tensed, teeth clenched. Open the fucking doors. Bring him back in. Take him out of my reach. He prayed that if anyone was on the other side of those fire doors that they heard his threats, and would take him in for round two. Please.

“No-one fucks with a Weston and gets away with it!” 

Weston. 

Rage consumed Hayden, it was an amber that constantly burned in the pit of his stomach but the moment he heard that name it was like someone had doused it in oil and sent it blazing. His head snapped up and across to the sound of the voice and sure enough, there he was; Tate Weston, the red-head that beat up his best friend. The little brat who thought he could steal from his place of work. The fucking dead man walking who threatened Ainsley. 

“You think you’re so big and hard, don’t you?” Hayden yelled as came out of the shadows of the joining alleyway into the dimly lit backway of the casino. 

“I don’t think, I know. You think this place can stand up to the power my family has? This place won’t last a press campa--” Smack.

His fist smashed across Tate’s nose, the cracking sound of bone echoed in his ears. The red-head whelped in pain as crimson leaked from his nostrils. Hayden pulled his fist back and plowed it straight into Tate’s stomach like a hitting a train head-on. When Tate coughed, dark purple sprayed out over Hayden’s lower leg and his shoes. He staggered backward, holding a hand in the air like a white flag. “Okay, okay, okay, s-- st--” he coughed again, blood splattering up the side of a trashcan he used for support. “Stop--” Tate shallowly panted as he collected himself. 

Hayden’s hands were shaking as it began to physically hurt to hold himself back. “Is that what Marissa said to you?!” He yelled. “Is that what she begged after you hit her the first time?! What about the second?! What about when she was laying on the floor and you laid your foot into her ribs for good fucking measure!” Hayden’s powerful voice boomed off the metal in the passageway. “I should kill you!” He swallowed, taking another step to Tate. “I should fucking kill you!” 

Tate took a staggered breath before pushing himself up to his feet and squaring up against Hayden. “Yeah? Well th-- then why am I still alive?” He bit back through gritted teeth before making the last wrong decision of his life; fight back. Tate’s arm left his stomach and pulled backward before springing out to the others' cheek, sending Hayden’s head flying right. He staggered on the spot to keep himself from falling and after regaining his balance was able to get another hit on the bartender, cutting up through his jaw and eye socket. 

The darkness completely shrouded Hayden. It consumed and took over him like a deadly virus, attacking every last good morale in his body. His mistakes had already cost his Father his life; was letting this rich kid go free going to ruin another person he cared about? Yes. It was time he took his own action, wasn’t it? He needed to make sure he wouldn’t speak to the press; that he couldn’t speak to the press. The was a primal sound that came from deep within Hayden’s stomach, a growl that took him back to the dark ages. 

He grabbed hold of Tate’s collar. There was a rasp as the material ripped under the pressure of his grip. There was a ringing in Hayden’s head from the blows the ginger had managed, but that was all that was in there. Everything else was silent; focused on the task. There was no moral dilemma, no attempt to hold his thinking to account. He was going kill him. 

Tate must have been able to see that in his eyes because the man suddenly changed his tune. He started begging, but Hayden couldn’t hear what he was saying, it was like he was speaking underwater or through soundproof glass. Hayden pulled his fist back and delivered a strike. Then another, then another until he was pounding at Tate’s face, breaking every socket and bone structure it held. His own knuckles popped at the force, the pain coursing through his arm but never slowing him down until the collar he had been holding onto snapped and Tate’s lifeless body fell to the ground in a heap. Hayden’s foot slammed into his chest before he stumbled backward, eyes open wide.

                                                             Everything stopped.

In the half light of the alley, Hayden’s body casts disfigured patterns on the grey walls. The only change in them is his chest rising and falling, and his hands that he hadn’t even realized were shaking so badly. His jaw stung, he could taste the metallic blood that dripped from his nose. His right eye was barely able to stay open but it had to because he couldn’t stop staring. He couldn’t stop himself from staring as the blood matted itself into his hair or leaked out onto the ground. Hayden knew he should be running right now, he should be getting to a car and driving south never stopping for anything but gas. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t even move.

“Move... C’mon... Move...” He finally snapped back to reality, dropping down beside Tate’s face and taking it in his hands. Hayden tried slapping his cheeks, he lifted as much of an eyelid as he could find among all the blood and swelling. There was nothing. No movement, no pupil dilation. Hayden grabbed hold of his arm, his heart smashing against his ribcage as his fingers wrapped around his wrist. “C’mon, c’mon-- you bastard, c’mon,” he muttered as he tried to move his fingers around to find a pulse. 

                                                                   Nothing.

Hayden swallowed but there was nothing but blood to go down. His mouth was dry. His skin faded color and-- Fuck, he was going to be sick. His feet stumbled over themselves as he made his way quickly to a nearby trash can, pushed the lid off and threw up into it. What the fuck had he done? What the fuck was he going to do? He can’t go back to prison. He can’t go back to the East coast ‘cause he’ll end up like fucking Tate. Think. Think... Ainsley... This is her place, right? She could-- she could do something, right? Anything? Dylan... Dylan knew the streets, she knew Dayton, she knew the cops... 

He nodded to himself as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and fumbled over the keys. He pressed Ainsley’s name and put the phone to his ear as the dialing tone came on. He paced. He made the mistake of looking back to the lifeless body and almost threw up again. Fuck. FUCK.  

“Ainsley?” He practically whispered when the woman picked up the phone. “I need you-- I need you to fucking get Dylan, and-- Ainsley, just fucking listen to me! I need you to come to the back of the casino. I-- Ainsley, he’s fucking dead.”  

                                                                                            He’s fucking dead.

[freddiedearfriend]

Plus One - A Night at the Fandom “Secret Santa” Gift!

This is my gift for @brianmays-badgers​ for @dtfrogertaylor​‘s A Night at the Fandom event! This story ended up quite different from what I set out to do, but I’m kind of into it. It’s less “enemies to lovers” like I intended and more “Reader is a badass who doesn’t take shit from men.” I hope you like it! 🐛💖

Plus One

Gwilym Lee x F!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Rating: Explicit

A/N: No offense to any Caitlins out there! Also, this is actually the first fic I’ve ever completed (let alone posted online) and I have no beta reader so I’d love to hear your honest opinion, criticisms and all! Like for real, I know I have a lot of room for improvement so I’d love to hear what you liked and what you think could be better. 

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It had been a while since you felt so relaxed. School was just as busy as always, but you had been feeling especially tightly wound lately, unable to shake the tension that seemed to permeate your entire being.

But now, for the first time in weeks, you felt like yourself again. Dancing always seemed to have that effect on you. Some god-awful remix of an Ariana Grande song was playing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had just enough alcohol in your system to make you feel relaxed, loose, but not out of control. You didn’t remember exactly how you had arrived at that point, but that didn’t really bother you.

You were dancing with someone, but it was dark, and everything felt a little blurry in a pleasant way, and you couldn’t see who it was. You could certainly feel him, though, your bodies pressed impossibly close together as you moved to the music. Large, strong hands held your hips, which you swayed back and forth to the beat of the song. You sensed the pulsing presence of the other clubgoers around you, but the warmth radiating from your partner overpowered the usual stuffiness of such a crowd.

You sighed, tossing your hair back and running your hands up your partner’s torso, feeling the muscles underneath his (admittedly slightly sweaty) shirt. You brushed his chest with your fingers before sliding your hands up to grasp his shoulders.

Your partner leant down, whispering in your ear. His hot breath, smelling slightly of beer, made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It was oddly pleasant.

“This isn’t real.”

You looked up, slightly confused. All of a sudden, the club’s strobe lighting was too bright and disorienting, and you became acutely aware of the blood pulsing throughout your body. You still couldn’t see your partner’s face.

“What?” you shouted over the music, your own voice echoing loudly in your ears.

Your partner gave a throaty chuckle, and you slowed your dancing a bit, feeling as if you had just realized something important. You couldn’t conclude what it was, though; the alcohol was causing your brain to lag and keeping you from finishing the thought.

This time you saw as the shadowy figure of your partner, who stood well over a foot taller than you, hunched over considerably to speak to you again.

“You really think this would ever happen? Can’t you see who I am?”

You suddenly felt too sweaty, standing still in the middle of the dance floor as you tried to focus on the man’s face. Your eyes worked to adjust to the dimness being constantly punctuated by obnoxiously bright flashes of light, and eventually you were able to make contact with a pair of bright blue eyes staring down at you.

“There she is. Hello, Y/N.”

You startled awake, frantically fishing around in the sheets for your buzzing phone. You found it and snoozed the alarm, grimacing at the bright screen and the ungodly hour it displayed. “Fucking hell,” you groaned, turning over and pulling the covers over your head. You cursed your past self for thinking early-morning training for basketball would be good idea, a way to get more involved at school. Now that the time had come, you decided you really couldn’t care less about team building.

When your alarm went off for the second time a few minutes later, you took a resigned breath and dragged yourself out of bed.

This wasn’t the first time you had dreamt about Gwilym Lee. In fact, the dreams had been increasing in frequency lately, making you more and more irritated and tense as the weeks went on. As if you needed any more reason to hate him. He had ruined your life.

Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. Your life was still going on relatively smoothly in most respects. But for the last few weeks you really had felt quite on edge, and Gwil was to blame.

It all sounded rather cliché when you thought about it. He was the freakishly beautiful British cousin of one of your classmates, visiting America for an acting apprenticeship and breaking the hearts of nearly everyone he encountered in his tragically short time there. Of course, he just had to get all chummy with your friend Joe, meaning you had to be around his pretentious ass constantly. (You were not going to let the presence of this interloper stop you from hanging out with one of your best friends.) And, the cherry on top of this disgusting shepherd’s pie, it was rumored that he was hooking up with Caitlin, a former friend of yours with whom you weren’t on the best of terms. None of this was helped by the fact that you weren’t exactly known for keeping your feelings to yourself, so everyone involved was aware of your varying levels of annoyance with both parties. The entire situation seemed like it could have been the plot of a bad romantic drama or young adult novel.

You just wished all of this could have waited until afteryour birthday. Nineteen isn’t usually one of the big birthday milestones, but you had been deathly ill last year on your eighteenth and had been planning to make up for it this year—and make up for it big time.

With the help of your parents and a distant yet generous great-aunt, you were able to rent out a barcade downtown for the evening. The place was a bar and was meant for adults, but also had laser tag, a bouncy obstacle course, and a wide variety of arcade games. When open to the public it was twenty-one and up, but they allowed minors at reserved events. You had sent out the invitations before Gwil showed up and stuck his stupid, chiseled jawline in your business, but you invited pretty much everyone he knew and it would be odd—and frankly, pretty rude—if he just wasn’t allowed to come. So he would be there.

All you could do was plan to keep your distance and hope that things went off without a hitch tonight.

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Despite every cell in your body crying out for you to go back to sleep, you made it through the early morning training as well all of your classes. After your last class, you went back to your dorm room and took a quick power nap before it was time to get ready for your party.

Since your party would involve some rather physical activities, you decided to forgo a particularly elaborate or high-maintenance look, instead putting on minimal makeup, your favorite pair of black jeans with a nice blouse, and a simple half-up, half-down hairstyle. You put in a pair of silver hoop earrings and some black velvet flats and admired yourself in the mirror. You looked damn good.

Your friend Lucy picked you up in her car and you rode to the barcade together. You had about half an hour to get things set up before other guests started arriving, and you puttered around pouring snacks into bowls and hanging streamers.

You were standing and chatting with Lucy when people began to show up.

“Wassup, Y/N!” Joe, always one to make an entrance, greeted you loudly. You quickly set down your paper cup of lemonade before Joe gave you a huge hug, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around.

“Looking incredible as always! Feel old yet?”

You laughed and half-heartedly adjusted your hair and top, pretending to be annoyed. “Please, Joe, I’m a year younger than you.”

Joe gave Lucy a quick hug in greeting before turning back to you. “Yes, and I’m telling you from experience, it really starts to hit you around nineteen. My back is killing me as we speak!” he said rather cheerfully for someone who was allegedly in pain.

“Whatever you say, old man.”

“Well hey now, you know what they say about respecting your elders.”

“Yeah, right. You already convinced me to let Gwil come. Don’t push your luck. You’re gonna keep that Laurence Olivier wannabe in check tonight, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joe replied, straightening up and giving you a salute. “No impromptu soliloquies will be performed tonight if I can help it.”

“Oh god, I would die,” you laughed and rolled your eyes. “Although if he did that then I would have a great excuse to kick him out.”

Joe gave a goofy grin but then spoke with a more serious voice. “Y/N, I know you’re tired of hearing it, but he’s really not that bad. When you get him alone he’s much less…”

“…of a huge douchebag?”

“Well, for lack of a better word, yes. In fact, I really think he acts so weird around you because he—”

“Oh god, Joe, don’t even try to give me the ‘boys pull your hair because they like you’ thing. That’s so second grade.”

“Okay, okay,” Joe put his hands up in defense. “All I’m saying is…he does talk about you a lot. And it’s not all bad.”

You gave a dramatic sigh, wanting to end the conversation. The truth was, the fact that Gwil talked about you when you weren’t around piqued your interest, but you didn’t want Joe to see that. “Oh great, that makes me feel much better. Whatever. I don’t want to spend any more energy talking about him. Let’s get this party started.”

“Great. That’s the spirit. Now, can I interest you in a round of Whack-A-Mole?”

“Oh, absolutely. You’re on.”

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Soon enough the party was in full swing, and you were making rounds, checking in with as many people as possible to make sure everyone was having a good time. You had just joined in a heated debate over which of the university’s physics professors was the best when you felt someone tap on your shoulder.

“Y/N, can I borrow you for a moment?” Joe was behind you looking almost sheepish, an expression you were not used to seeing on your normally boisterous and confident friend. You excused yourself from the conversation and walked a few feet away to talk with Joe in private.

“Okay, please do not freak out right now, but I have to tell you something,” Joe said carefully, his arms held in front of him, fists balled up nervously.

“Uh, okay, but you’re making it sound like I’m definitely gonna freak out right now,” you replied, looking at him with your brow furrowed in confusion and concern.

“No, it’s, well it’s not really that big of a deal, it’s just…Gwil brought Caitlin.” Joe muttered quickly, cringing as he tried to gauge your reaction.

Without thinking, you whipped your head around, scanning the room for either of the offending parties. You looked back at Joe, plastering on a fake smile so as to not appear as surprised and angry as you actual were.

“Of course he fucking did. Bastard. Where are they?”

“I swear he never mentioned it to me, when I told him he could come I never mentioned bringing a plus one. I’m so sorry, Y/N, I should have been clearer. I didn’t think—"

He looked so guilty and sad, and you just couldn’t be mad at that face. You sighed. “It’s okay, Joe, it’s not your fault. You just assumed he would have common sense and ask before bringing a guest, but they must have different party etiquette across the pond, huh?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m gonna make it up to you. I’ll take you for Chinese, just the two of us.”

“That does sound pretty nice. We haven’t been to Lucky Kitchen in a while.”

“Great, then it’s a plan. But hey, just ignore those two and enjoy your party, okay? You deserve this.”

“Thanks, Joe. And thanks for telling me, at least I’m prepared to run into either of them now.”

“That’s my girl,” Joe said, patting you firmly on the shoulder. “Now get back to your adoring fans.”

You chuckled and flipped your hair over your shoulder dramatically, turning back to the conversation you were having.

But you found it a little hard to focus on the discussion now. You were on edge, desperately trying to keep eye contact with the people you were talking to rather than checking your peripheral vision for your unwanted guests. Eventually the group you were chatting with decided to start a game of laser tag, and you enthusiastically joined in, letting the thoughts of Gwil and Caitlin’s presence run off your back.

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Several intense games of laser tag and a Dance Dance Revolution tournament later, you were warm and happy and still mostly distracted from the presence of your two uninvited guests.

Then it was time for cake. The lights were dimmed, and your friends and family began to sing as the cake was brought out, sparklers in place of candles. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands. It was one of the most unique and beautiful cakes you had ever seen.

You had planned on just getting a few sheet cakes from Costco, since they were cheap and actually not half bad, but your parents insisted that they had it covered and surprised you with a huge custom cake from a bakery in town. It was four tiers, alternating chocolate and vanilla, and the entire thing was iced with a mint chocolate chip buttercream frosting and covered in white fondant roses.

You made a mental note to write that great-aunt a thank you card.

After everyone had gotten at least one helping of cake, they began to return to the games or sit in small groups in conversation. You stood near the table where the cake was, taking everything in. You were definitely started to lose steam now, but you mostly just felt pleasantly sleepy as you gazed out over the room. You had had a pretty perfect night so far. Then a nearby conversation brought you out of your daze.

“Like, who wants to play fucking Whack-A-Mole at an adult’s birthday party? I’m surprised this many people actually showed up.”

You recognized that voice immediately. Caitlin. An old friend-turned-frenemy-turned-full-on enemy, a voice you just couldn’t seem to get away from ever since elementary school.

“And she was actually, like, crying over the cake. Like are you kidding? Get a grip.”

You were too shocked to even be angry at first. You pulled out your phone surreptitiously, opening your conversation with Joe and sending him a text.

Omg, Caitlin and Gwil are talking shit

Almost immediately, you received the read receipt and then Joe’s response.

Not if I can help it

You stared at your phone, confused. Joe was nowhere to be seen, let alone do anything about this. You were typing out a response suggesting as much when you heard his voice—but not directed at you.

“Hey Gwil. Caitlin. How’s it goin’?” Joe was sweaty and attempting to catch his breath, clearly having just come from the bouncy obstacle course. He took a swig from a water bottle as he walked up to them.

Oh, no,you thought. What are you doing, Joe?

“Ugh, fine,” Caitlin replied to Joe. “Not really understanding the whole ‘adults playing arcade games’ thing but whatever. At least the cake was good.”

Gwil snorted. “Yeah, would help if I had something to drink, too.” God, he was so fucking arrogant. You couldn’t stand it.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Joe said cheerfully, “I’m having more fun than I have in long time. Nothing like some friendly competition to take your mind off midterms coming up. Come on, go through the obstacle course with me. Just once. We can race!”

Gwil seemed to perk up a little bit at this suggestion, but Caitlin quickly shot it down.

“Huh, yeah, thanks but no thanks. I’d like to keep at least a little of my dignity tonight.”

Joe frowned at her. “If you don’t like any of this stuff, why’d you even come?”

Oh god. Now he was really going to start something.

“Duh, free food. Free cake. Chance to make fun of Y/N. And I just couldn’t let this one go all alone,” Caitlin giggled, bumping Gwil with her shoulder. Gwil didn’t seem to share quite the same level of mirth, however, and you followed his nervous gaze to Joe, whose eyes were quickly narrowing.

“First of all, Gwil here was never told he could invite anyone. He wasn’t technically invited himself. Second of all, Y/N is my friend. And if you’re going to talk shit about my friend and her bomb-ass party, I’d rather you do it somewhere else.”

You started wracking your brain for ways you could infiltrate this conversation, get it to end without revealing that you had been eavesdropping. You texted Joe, telling him to call off the dogs, but he either didn’t feel his phone vibrate in his pocket or he was choosing to ignore it. You didn’t realize you were staring until Gwil’s eyes met your own and he smirked, prompting Caitlin and Joe to look over at you.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Gwil crooned, his eyes locked on you as you dragged yourself over to where they were, attempting to look as if you had just casually walked by.

“Y/N, hiiii!” Caitlin said sweetly, a distinct change from the sardonic tone she was using just seconds before. “Oh my god, what a great party. That cake was just to die for.”

“Oh, I’m soglad you’re enjoying it,” you replied through gritted teeth. “Isn’t this place just genius? It’s been so long since I’ve played arcade games like this.”

“Yes, well, it is kind of like Chuck-E-Cheese for adults, isn’t it?” Caitlin’s voice seemed to raise in pitch with every word.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, fake smile still plastered on. “Yeah! It’s so nice to still be able to relax and have fun every once in a while, isn’t it?”

Gwil and Joe were following your conversation like a tennis match, sensing a rising tension in your seemingly friendly exchange.

“For sure. Thanks somuch for the invite,”—don’t remember sending you one,you thought— “but unfortunately Gwil and I have to get going now, don’t we babe?”

Babe? So they were using pet names now? You wanted to vomit.

For once in his life, Gwil seemed hesitant. “I, uh—”

Joe cut in. “Aw, that’s too bad. Well, it was great to see you guys! See you for frisbee tomorrow, Gwil?”

“Uh, yeah, but—”

“Well, it was great to see you, Y/N. Happy birthday!” Caitlin practically squealed as she walked away, pulling Gwil by the arm.

Joe waved at them and began to pull you in the opposite direction, but you caught Gwil glancing back at you as they walked toward the door.

“God, Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to hear that. Fuck, I’m a terrible friend, aren’t I? I insisted on letting Gwil come and he just had to go and bring her, and then they have the nerve to say that shit right in front of you? I’m gonna kill him—”

“Joe. Stop. Breathe. It’s not your fault. If we’re going to blame anyone, it’s gonna be Gwil, ok? He knows how I feel about Caitlin and was still selfish enough to bring her along. That’s fucked up, but you didn’t know he would do it.”

“I know, but—”

“Joe, let’s just forget about this for now, okay? I’m gonna enjoy the rest of my night, not spend it being mad at Gwil.”

Joe took a deep breath. “You’re right. God, you’re too good for us, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m very aware.”

Joe laughed. “Okay, okay, your majesty. Now may I request a rematch of air hockey?”

“Hell yes. You are going down, Mazzello.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After you had beat Joe savagely at several raucous games of air hockey, you snuck away for a breather. You were leaning against the bar, casually scrolling through Tumblr, when someone disrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N? Can we talk?” A British accent. Of course. What was he still doing here?

“I’m not particularly interested in anything you have to say.” You kept your eyes glued to your phone, but you weren’t really looking at it anymore, mainly wanting to appear indifferent to Gwil’s reappearance.

“I know. I just want to tell you that I’m sorry I brought Caitlin tonight. I…didn’t mean to start anything, I just…”

Any attempt to ignore Gwil went out the window. You put your phone in your pocket and looked him in the eye. Fuck, he has beautiful eyes. “You just what? You just thought it would be a great idea to bring the person I dislike the most to a party you weren’t even technically invited to?”

“Well—”

“Oh yes, please. I’d love to hear whatever convoluted justification you’ve come up with. Let’s have it.”

“I know it’s stupid and immature. I’m kicking myself for thinking it could ever work. But…well, I thought you might be…jealous. I thought maybe you would, I don’t know, be angry enough at her to want me for yourself. Or at the very least pay attention to me.”

You stared in disbelief, mouth ajar.

“God, I know, it sounds absolutely mad when I say it out loud. Look, I’ll drop it now, I just hope you understand that I’m really sorry.”

“You…are interested in me.”

“Um, yes.”

“Like, you like me.”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“And when being condescending and arrogant didn’t work, you thought you would use my ex-friend to piss me off, and I would end up wanting to be with you to get back at her.”

Gwil was silent.

“Where is Caitlin, anyway? I thought you left with her.”

“She did leave, but I told her I wanted to stay. She got mad. She left without me.”

You stared at him for a minute.

“Jesus…you’re even more of an idiot than I thought you were.”

Then you grabbed him by the hand and dragged him into the back room behind the bar.

“Wha—where are we—”

You shut the door behind you and backed him up against it.

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

“Wait, you—you want—”

“God, yes, you stupid, beautiful piece of shit.”

Gwil seemed to suddenly snap out of his confusion and into make-out mode, putting one hand on the small of your back and one on the back of your head, pulling you up onto your tiptoes as he leaned down to kiss you. You put your hands on either side of his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks. His lips were warm, and you could faintly smell his cologne.

After a long few minutes of making out, you slid your hands down his chest and began to undo his belt. Gwil pulled back and put his hands over yours.

“Wait, you—are you sure about this?”

You looked up at him.

“Oh, I am absolutely sure. I know exactly what I want to do with you.”

Gwil shuddered and took his hands away from yours, reaching up into your shirt to undo your bra as you finished undoing his belt.

You moaned into Gwil’s mouth as your lips met again, his thumbs gently circling over your nipples.

You jerked Gwil’s pants and underwear down over his hips and pulled out his dick.

“Aaahhh…oh god,” he groaned, clearly trying to be quiet.

“That’s good, huh? I’ll make sure you feel so good,” you purred.

Gwil breathed heavily as you worked his cock, fumbling to get into your pants as well. Once he succeeded, he stuck his hand in, gasping at what he felt there.

“So wet, oh god.”

“Mmm, yes. Because of you. You made me this wet.”

Gwil clumsily crashed his lips back into yours as he began to rub your clitoris with his fingers. The other hand remained on your breast, brushing over your sensitive, aroused nipple.

You began to rut into his hand, a little embarrassed at how close you were already but wanting to come quickly. You were sure your guests were having a great time, but you wouldn’t want anyone concerned about your absence.

“Faster, Gwil, please.”

He began to move his hand faster, but you slowed yours down. “Mmmph, Y/N. More,” he said gruffly.

“No. Not yet. Make me—ah!—make me come first.”

Gwil’s hand practically vibrated off his body as he moved his hand firmly against your clit. You buried your face in his chest as you came, thrusting erratically against his hand.

“God…yes…so good…” you gasped in between breaths, riding out your orgasm until you couldn’t take any more, pulling Gwil’s hand out of your pants. You looked up at him with hooded eyes and guided his hand toward your face.

“Now, let me taste it.”

Gwil stared with wide eyes and put his fingers, dripping with your come, up to your mouth. You sucked his fingers clean, finally speeding up the hand you had around his cock.

“Oh Jesus, that’s hot.”

You smiled coyly, watching as Gwil’s face and neck began to flush a deep pink.

“I’m—I’m getting—close—”

You took your hand away suddenly.

“Now. You’re going to finish the job.”

Gwil stared at you dumbly.

“You heard me. You’re going to finish yourself off alone, in the utility room of a barcade, and walk out of this party alone. And then maybe you’ll remember this moment before you decide being an asshole to another woman is going to make her want to be with you.”

Gwil shuffled to the side awkwardly as you opened the door, staring at you in disbelief as you strolled back out to the bar. With a contented smile on your face, you headed to the bathroom to freshen up before enjoying the rest of your birthday party.

END

[musicprincess655]

Atsushi blinks his eyes open, wincing at the crick in his neck. He uncurls from the ball he had to sleep in to fit on the chair. It’s better than the floor, but only marginally.

They all agreed yesterday that he would stay with the Akutagawa siblings. Even with the murderous intent growing in Akutagawa’s eyes, it was still preferable to going with Dazai and Chuuya. For one, they didn’t have the space, and for another, they fought like cats and dogs.

“Why do they live together if they hate each other so much?” Atsushi had asked Akutagawa. Akutagawa had just rolled his eyes at Atsushi.

“They’re married,” he snapped. Atsushi had decided he didn’t really want to know. 

It isn’t like the Akutagawa siblings have all that much more room, though. They’d taken a larger room in the underground bunker – Atsushi thinks it might have been a bank vault, once – but at the cost of taking most of the storage. The room is covered in shelves holding all manner of strange items, everything from books to spare machinery bits to gear to things Atsushi can’t even identify.

Because the siblings, Dazai, and Chuuya are all part of a smuggling ring. Atsushi hasn’t quite gotten all the details, but the four of them steal just about anything they can get their hands on from No. 6, and that’s how they make their living.

It’s a life, or so Atsushi supposes.

The cluttered room means there’s not much room for furniture, though. There’s the skinny twin bed Gin uses, the couch that’s nearly as wide that Akutagawa sleeps on, and a pair of chairs that have seen better days. Between one of them and the floor, Atsushi took a chair.

He’s starting to think he might have been better off on the floor.

Both siblings are already up, already sipping at mugs of what Atsushi thinks might be coffee, based on the smell.

“Do I get a cup?” Atsushi asks, voice cracking with the sleep that hasn’t quite left his system yet.

“If you make it yourself,” Akutagawa says. “The kettle’s behind the last bookshelf. Don’t touch anything else.”

Atsushi glares at him, but doesn’t say anything. Despite Akutagawa’s desperate need for an attitude adjustment, he did save Atsushi’s life. And then gave him a place to stay. Even if it was only because Dazai told him he had to.

Dazai and Akutagawa’s relationship is something of a mystery. There’s strain, that’s for certain. Akutagawa doesn’t hate Dazai, though. If anything, Atsushi thinks Akutagawa is trying to win Dazai’s approval, and Dazai doesn’t seem to want much to do with that.

It doesn’t quite make sense to Atsushi. Akutagawa is so quick to hate Atsushi, for reasons Atsushi can’t fathom. He hasn’t done anything, after all, and when they were kids, Akutagawa seemed to tolerate him just fine.

There’s history between Dazai and Akutagawa, and Atsushi can’t help his curiosity.

There’s a lot Atsushi doesn’t know about Akutagawa, actually. He only just learned that Akutagawa has a sister. Why he was arrested, why he’s keeping an eye on No. 6, why he stays so close when the safest place for him would be far away from here…Atsushi doesn’t know the answers. And not knowing is not something that’s ever sat well with him.

“So how does all this work?” Atsushi asks. He mixes hot water with instant coffee and hopes it’ll taste okay. He sips it as he walks back up to join the siblings. It’s not the best, but it seems effective. “The smuggling business, I mean?”

“That’s not your concern.”

Akutagawa isn’t even paying Atsushi any attention. He’s flipping through a book. Gin almost looks like she’s meditating, staring blankly at the wall while she sips at her coffee. She’s pretty without her mask on, which is a comment that would probably get Atsushi murdered twice.

“I still want to know,” Atsushi insists.

“Just because Dazai let you stay here doesn’t mean we have to work together,” Akutagawa snaps. “And I’d really prefer not to.”

“So, what, you just want me to sit around here?” It comes out hotter than Atsushi intends. Akutagawa raises a single nonexistent eyebrow – had he shaved them off? Atsushi remembers him having eyebrows at fourteen.

“Quietly, if that’s possible,” Akutagawa says, returning to his book. Atsushi wants to throw it away from him. He squashes that urge down.

The door swings open. Atsushi tenses, but neither Akutagawa nor Gin reacts much.

“Hope everyone’s decent and caffeinated,” Dazai says, strolling in. “Atsushi-kun! How are you settling in?”

Atsushi throws Akutagawa one more baleful glare that doesn’t even make it past the book in front of his face.

“Fine, I guess,” Atsushi says.

“Good! I’m here to offer you a job.”

Dazai looks entirely too pleased with himself. Atsushi isn’t sure whether he’s trustworthy, but he is the one that insisted Atsushi stay with them, and it’s a damn sight better than chancing his luck with the West Block. He might just have the kind of face that’s hard to trust because he’s so good at controlling it.

Atsushi has no real reason to believe Dazai isn’t genuine.

“A job?” Atsushi asks. He was just asking for something to do. And he’s never been the kind of person that takes to sitting still all that well. Maybe a job is just the thing he needs. “With the smuggling business?”

“In a way,” Dazai says. “It takes all kinds to make this work.”

“You’re introducing him to her?” Akutagawa asks. Atsushi blinks at Akutagawa. Her? Who is she?

“I think they’ll get along marvelously,” Dazai says.

“She’ll eat him alive,” Akutagawa says, and he looks inordinately pleased. Atsushi’s just getting annoyed by the extensive round of the pronoun game.

“Come on, then, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai says. “I’ll introduce you to our spymaster.”

That’s more than enough to get Atsushi moving. If there’s anyone who can answer his questions, it’s a spymaster.

“What kind of person is she?” Atsushi asks as he and Dazai walk. He’s picturing an older woman, greying hair tied tightly in a bun away from her face, kimono perfect and spotless, a katana on her back.

“She’s fairly unique,” Dazai says. “Most people have a hard time getting to know her, but she can be perfectly sweet if she thinks you’re worth her time.”

Atsushi updates his mental picture to include more lines around a tight mouth, an expression beaten into a face that’s seen too much shit. She must be a woman to be feared if even Dazai speaks of her this way.

“And she’s your spymaster?”

“She’s good at collecting rumors, anyway,” Dazai says. “There’s not a word of gossip in all the West Block that doesn’t pass through her doors.”

They’re approaching what looks like a ruined hotel building. Atsushi winces. It looks haunted, or at least, it looks like it’s in danger of crashing down.

“She lives here?” Atsushi asks.

“She sure does,” Dazai agrees. “Welcome to the hotel.”

There are dogs everywhere. It’s the first thing Atsushi notices. Dogs of every shape, size, and color lay in the yard, or play with each other, barking in a way that is happy. Probably.

The second thing Atsushi notices is a young girl standing in the doorway, watching them with dead blue eyes.

“Kyouka-chan, meet Nakajima Atsushi-kun,” Dazai says to her. “Atsushi-kun, this is Izumi Kyouka, resident master of whispers.”

Well. At least Atsushi got the kimono right.

“Who is he?” Kyouka asks, no inflection in her voice. Despite the bright color of her eyes, they seem to suck in light. It’s almost like Kyouka doesn’t feel human emotion, more robot than person. And in a world like this, that’s entirely possible.

“I figured he could help you out,” Dazai says. He either doesn’t notice Kyouka’s coldness, or he doesn’t care.

“I don’t babysit,” Kyouka says.

“It’s not babysitting,” Dazai says at the same time Atsushi bursts out “I don’t need a babysitter!” Dazai pats Atsushi on the shoulder. “He and Akutagawa don’t get along. But he’d still like to make himself useful.”

Atsushi doesn’t point out that he could get along with Akutagawa just fine if Akutagawa would stop threatening to kill him. It’s been four times already, and they’ve been reunited for just a day.

“He can wash the dogs,” Kyouka says. “If he’s bad, he’s not welcome here.”

“Perfect,” Dazai says. “Atsushi-kun, do your best.”

With one more clap to Atsushi’s shoulder, Dazai turns and leaves. And Atsushi has to somehow make peace with this new person.

“Uh…” he tries to start. Kyouka turns.

“You wash the dogs,” she says. “They’re filthy. I can’t rent them out like this.”

“You rent them out?” Atsushi asks.

He rolls up his sleeves, following Kyouka to a fountain in the middle of the courtyard. It doesn’t seem to have running water, but Kyouka uses a water hose to fill it up. Atsushi doesn’t know how people out here can have that so far from the city, but there’s also a shower in the bunker where the Akutagawa siblings, Dazai and Chuuya live, so maybe human ingenuity is just something to be respected and feared in equal measures.

“For anything people need,” Kyouka confirms, voice still a flat monotone. “Some people want the protection. Some people just want the warmth. I don’t usually ask. They tell me anyway.”

Kyouka’s quiet, that Atsushi knows already. He can easily see her listening in, unnoticed by those around her. If there’s a perfect person to play spymaster, it’s someone as easy to overlook as Kyouka.

Atsushi gets to work scrubbing at the dog. He may have been a detective in No. 6, but that came with a fair degree of physical labor, and Atsushi is stronger than he looks. The dog tries to pull away, but Atsushi grabs it by the scruff of its neck, holding it still while he soaps it up.

“Do you really not get along with Akutagawa?” she asks. There’s a small amount of emotion in her voice this time.

“That’s not my fault,” Atsushi says. “He doesn’t want to get along with me.”

Atsushi doesn’t say it, but he also can’t help remembering how easily Akutagawa slit that police officer’s throat back in No. 6, and how he’d berated Gin for leaving the other alive. What kind of person felt such little remorse for taking a life?

“He doesn’t care about anyone who can’t benefit him,” Kyouka says. “They can die, for all he cares.”

That’s certainly true. Atsushi remembers when there were other emotions in his eyes, though, when he teased Atsushi for roaring like a tiger in a typhoon and let Atsushi bandage his wounds and hold his hand, let Atsushi watch over him and protect him.

What happened to the child Akutagawa used to be?

“I guess it’s a kill or be killed world out here,” Atsushi says. Kyouka nods.

“Only the strong survive,” she says. “That’s the way the world works.”

“Or the people who work together,” Atsushi counters. “I can’t believe that people have to kill to stay alive. If that was true, nobody would care about each other, nobody would love. We’d just all kill to be the strongest.”

He doesn’t mean to go on a rant at Kyouka, but instead of telling him to shut up, she considers him carefully.

“Do you know why I deal with dogs?” she asks. “Why I only barely work with people?”

“You like dogs?”

“Dogs don’t betray you,” Kyouka says. “They’ll protect you, and they never leave you behind. They’re better than people.”

“You might be right,” Atsushi agrees, using the hose to spray the dog down. “But I think everyone still has value. I think that’s something you get just by being a person. Maybe if we all knew that, the world would be a better place.”

“You’re a strange one, Nakajima Atsushi.” It’s strange, but she’s the first one to call him by his real name other than Dazai. When Atsushi meets her eye, there’s emotion there. She looks like a regular teenager that way, kimono and all. “I’ve killed thirty-five people. Does that make you hate me?”

“Did they deserve it?” Atsushi asks. He can’t condone murder, but at the same time, a girl as young as Kyouka has to have a reason. Right?

“I didn’t ask,” Kyouka says. “I was just doing as I was told.”

“Told? By who?”

“Someone who’s not welcome in my life anymore,” Kyouka says. Atsushi knows better than to ask. “Does that make you hate me?”

“Do you want to kill anyone?” Atsushi asks. Kyouka’s eyes blink open wider, as if she’s never been asked such a fundamental question. How is that possible? What kind of life has she led?

“No,” Kyouka says softly. “I don’t want to kill anyone again.”

“Then that’s what matters.”

“But I’m good at killing,” Kyouka protests. “It might be the only thing I’m good at.”

“You seem to be running a successful business here,” Atsushi says. “So that’s at least two things. And I’ve never seen someone tie a kimono as perfectly as you. So that’s at least three. Sounds like you might be good at plenty of things.”

Kyouka’s eyes are blown wide now. Atsushi lets her sit with that, washes three more dogs before she finally speaks again.

“You’re not bad at that,” she says. “You can come by a few times a week. It’s better to rotate when they get washed.”

“I’ll do that,” Atsushi says. “Kyouka-chan, what do you like to eat?”

“To eat…?” She sounds faintly surprised at having been asked. Atsushi smiles. If Kyouka is this easy to get along with, it shouldn’t be all that hard to get used to working with her. “Boiled tofu. And sweets.”

“I’ll bring you some,” Atsushi promises.

“How will you manage that in the West Block?” Again, that surprise. Has no one really treated Kyouka like a person? Like a girl with wants and needs and emotions?

“I’ll figure something out,” Atsushi says. After all, he does know a smuggling ring.

“You have to keep promises,” Kyouka says, but something else breaks in her blue eyes, an emotion that Atsushi hasn’t seen since he left No. 6.

Kyouka believes in him.

[andwhatdostarsdobest]

raspberry i love you’s [t.h]

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: talking about the tensions within relationships

Summary: Is love always enough? The beginning of relationships are so exciting but how do you make them last?

Word Count: 4.2k

Prompt:  ‘Remember when we were kids and every I love you was true.’

This is my submission for @tom-holland-and-textposts writing challenge.  Flashbacks are in italics.  Thanks @uglypastels for reading through it and giving me the confidence to post

happy reading, lovelies 

masterlist

Time doesn’t hold back anymore.

You tilt your head to the right where your husband is crouching down, trying to pull the zipper up on your daughter’s coat. In your haste this morning you grabbed the one with the zipper that sticks. His cheeks grow hot with the effort, the red flush mingling with the lines that are now burrowed deep in his forehead and around his eyes. The once smooth face of a young man was irrevocably changing. The face that you fell in love with. You knew it was happening to you too. That’s what time does. It changes you into unrecognisable people, for better or worse.

That’s what most mornings are like, impatient. Rushed through to make sure everything was done in time for the start of the day. No time for stolen moments, secret kisses, shy glances or whispered I Love You’s. Just life and its fast-paced ways. Not that you were unhappy with it, but something had recently been playing on your mind. The question, is love always enough? It dances around your mind. At first you didn’t pay it no mind but then you started noticing things. Only small but still significant you thought.

Like the way his eyes no longer linger on you for a few extra seconds when you are getting changed. Like how he has stopped saying ‘finally I’m back home with my beautiful, Y/N’ and now just says ‘hey’ when he walks through the door. Like how seconds turn into minutes turn into hours when responding to a text.

Like how his I love you’s become less frequent.

All relationships have ebb and flow, whatever type they are. You can get complacent with someone but that just means you have to work harder to keep them. People always talk about the spark dying out as their reason for ending things, really that’s their excuse for not trying hard enough or not wanting to. No relationship is completely plain sailing, more of them would work out if they were.  So then, how do you know when your own relationship is going through one of these moments of blandness or if something bigger is on the horizon? Is love always enough?

 Contemplating this question, you can’t help but miss those early days. When love was all you needed and that bond felt invincible. When you first meet someone it's like a seed just beginning to sprout or a fire that's caught its first flame. Limitless potential. The mystery is part of the excitement. Everything is new and as such you pay extra close attention to it, memorising every little detail. Watching the way his body dances before you, the gentle roll and flex of the muscles along his back. How you could hear his breath catch in his throat when you locked onto his eyes and teased him mercilessly. Your skin burning at every graze of a fingertip as you could feel the energy transferring between the two of you.

Senses heightened and both on your best behaviours.

He was still beautiful to you but sometimes you both got lost and distracted with other things. You skip over those little details, time no longer allowing you to breathe them in.

Tom was still struggling with the zip, exasperated grunts filling the porch.

“Daddy, hurry, we’re going to be late,” your daughter whines.

“I’m trying,” Tom huffs.

With one final, triumphant tug the zip glides up the jacket, but the force takes Tom by surprise and he falls backwards, landing on his bum.

“Oww," he grumbles. He sits for a second rubbing his tailbone, his features screwed up as he waits for the pain to subside.

That kind of thing used to make you smile, his awkwardness, the clumsiness that comes with being such a goofball. But right now, you feel yourself checking your watch, impatient for them to get going.

People had always said that when you have kids every other part of your relationships takes a hit, you can’t spend as much time together, you start to dislike each other more and more, the love you have for each other is now channelled into your baby. You never believed them, there was no way you could ever stop loving your wonderful husband, Tom. And you didn’t. You knew that. But why did everything feel flatter these days, not bad, more like the sentimentality had been sucked from it.

You guess everyone experiences these times, where things feel uninspiring.

Relationships are multifaceted, they are like a story, with a beginning, middle and end and no one knows how to write the middle.

“What’s the matter, mummy?” Annie is staring up at you with the same brown eyes as Tom, the perfect shade.

You smile at her, softening your eyes and running a hand over her hair, “nothing, darling.”

“Good.” She pushes past you.

“Because we need to go, daddy. I don’t want to be late.” Annie pushes Tom trying to get him back to his feet, her minimal force having no real effect, but Tom playing up as if she the strongest person he’s ever met.

“Okay, okay,” he clambers to his feet, over dramatically rubbing his lower back, “even though I’m so injured and barely able to move.”

“No, daddy.” Annie places her hands on her hips, pouting.

You should be enjoying this sweet moment, but time was really playing on your mind.

Tom lunges forward and grabs your daughter round the waist and starts mercilessly tickling her.

“Stop,” she squeals.

He pauses and looks into her eyes, grinning, “alright, but only because we need to go.” He boops the end of her nose and she giggles.

“Come on then,” he reaches out his hand, which she takes, a great big grin spreading across her face.

Then he turns to you, puzzled at the expression that meets him.

Tears start to cloud your eyes and you try to blink them away discreetly.

“Love?” His voice is quieter. Annie looks between the two of you, still gripping Tom’s hand.

“Remember when we were kids and every I love you was true,” you blurt out.

You don’t mean to say it, but you do.

 It had reached that part in the evening where booze was being absorbed into people's bloodstreams and their inhibitions were lowing. A medley of 80's hits blared from the speakers and drink sloshed up the sides of cups as people begun to cut loose. No more so than Daniel, a particular brash co-worker of yours who was currently standing in the middle of the room, arms flailing with a recklessness that was kind of concerning and very telling of his desperate need for all attention on himself.

No matter how bad these parties got, and they got bad, you never felt exasperated at the thought of them. That was all thanks to Tom. He was your best friend. You could tell him anything. And he was your chance at respite in moments like these. Any moment he would find your eyes in the group of intoxicated workers and pull this face. A face you knew so well. A face that meant, ‘well this is crazy, but kind of funny too right?’

As if he could read your thoughts, he locked on to you with his beautiful brown eyes. His smile lines drawn down and eyebrows pulling together, the face. You returned his look with a little chuckle. Taking this as his queue, he started ducking and diving through all the people who stood between the two of you. Everyone was still contently watching Ethan make a tit of himself, sipping on their own drinks, leaning into their buzzed hum.

You watched Tom as he came towards you, watched as he intently tried to avoid everyone, considerate even when they weren’t. He glanced at you for one second sending sparks filtering through your body. Unfortunately, it was the wrong second because your most grumpy co-worker stepped back and Tom walked straight into him. You saw his face drop, his hands come up to his chest, half-formed stutters fell from his lips as he attempted to calm the storm cloud- that’s what everyone in the office called Hudson, he could ruin even the sunniest of days with his rumbling temper. For some reason, you thought may have to do with his constant pranks and joking around, Paul thoroughly disliked Tom. He found any excuse he could to erupt at him. That poor boy. But you had to admit it was rather funny to watch Tom squirm to the side, lost for words for once. He didn’t find it so funny, for obvious reasons.

After a string of apologies Tom managed to escape and practically ran towards you, blush still coating his cheeks, a slight layer of perspiration clasping at his baby hairs. He really didn’t like confrontation. He reached out his hand, fingers sliding across your bare arm, to reach safety sooner.

As he drew up in front of you, you noticed how the light reflected off his eyes, highlighting flecks of tawny swimming in hickory pools. And the artificial hum of the office lighting coated his skin making him look warm and inviting. Your gaze dropped to the hand resting on your arm, noting the vibrant purpling of the knuckles, fresh bruises from his boxing training the night before.

You both stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, not needing to speak, just connecting silently.

“You want to go someone else, hopefully quieter?” Tom asked.

You titled your head, unable to hear him over the deafening music and merriment around you, “huh?”

Tom leaned in closer, the faint smell of mint on his breath, “somewhere quieter?” he tried again.

That time you heard him, “oh yes, definitely.”

You had something you had been meaning to tell him all day. He’s the first person you thought of when it happened. He was always the first person you thought of.

“Great, go to the roof and I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”

One eyebrow raised, you asked, “why, what are you doing?”

Tom took a quick glance around the room before returning his gaze to you, “there is just something I have to do.”

Biting down on your lip, you cross your arms, “why are you being so secretive, Holland.”

“Nothing,” he breaks out into a smile, which you mirrored, “now just go.”

He started gently pushing you towards the door, but you dug your heels into the ground making it as hard as possible for him. Giggles now escaping from both of you.

“Come on.” His hands slid down to your waist and despite the laughter, you felt them there, pressed into you, a cold force covering your flesh. You didn’t want to notice them, but you did. His hands glided to the small of your back, applying more pressure, edging you closer to the door.

“I’m not going until you tell me what mysterious things you’re planning.”

The crinkles under his eyes grew deeper as he only responded with a curious smile.

You swivelled around, his hands still on your back, that force still at the forefront of your brain.

“Please, Tom, please,” you mock beg, “best friends share everything.”

He sighed.

“I’ll tell you when I get to the roof, how about that?”

“Perfect,” you beamed.

“Well go on then.” He removed one hand from your back and gestured behind you, nodding in the same direction with his head.

Putting your hands up in surrender you walked the last few steps to the door backwards, winking at him before turning on your heel and heading for the roof. Curious about what he was up to but more than anything just excited about getting to spend time with him and only him.

As you opened the door to the roof the icy breeze pushed against you and caused the breath to get caught in your throat. You wished you had brought your jacket. It’s not like you to forget something like that, you were just too excited. From up here you could see across the whole city, the fluorescent glare from the buildings, red and green flashes mixed in. But if you left the buildings behind, above were a canopy of luminous stars that materialised among the vast ocean of blackness. The moon, a complete orb resting in the sky, so large tonight you were sure you must be looking at it through a magnifying glass.

Some people would say this was a romantic view.

And there’s only one thing that came to mind when you stared at it.

Bang!

You spun around to see Tom bent over, holding onto his shoe.

“Ow, my toe,” he sniffled.

His brown curls that had been so neatly piled atop his head where now flopping down in front of his eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” You offered an outstretched hand, which Tom took, and you feel it again. The force.

This wasn’t the first time you had felt the ‘force’, you had just always tried to push it down. Tom was your friend and that was all he was ever going to be so there wasn’t any point in worrying about it, right? Recently it had been harder to remember that as everything he did caught your attention and held it.

Swallowing down the thought, you helped him to his feet.

“Thanks,” he mumbled as he dusted off his jacket.

“So, what was this surprise then?”

Tom bit his lip as he stood up straighter.

Did he seem nervous to you? Maybe just fizzing with a nervous energy.

Tom reached behind him and pulled out a cardboard box.

“Wait here,” he instructed.

“What do you mean?” Your palms started to sweat.

“Just wait here,” he titled his head, “please.”

You reluctantly nodded, and Tom made his way to the middle of the roof. He had his back to you, so you couldn’t see what he was doing, despite your attempts to peak around him.

“Okay, you can come over now.”

Tom stepped to the side revealing what he had been setting up. A blanket was spread out on the ground and in the middle was a pizza, the lid of the box pulled back. Standing next to it were two drinks, a pile of napkins, and a further pink box, this one much smaller than the pizza with the lid propped open too.

“This was your secret?” you questioned, “you were getting us a picnic?”

Tom scratched the back of his head, eyes drifting to the ground.

“Yeah,” he hesitated, “are you hungry?”

You broke out into a wide smile, “starving.”

You clamber onto the blanket, settling in and grabbing one of the pastries from inside the pink box.

“What are you doing? You can’t start with dessert,” Tom cried, reaching an arm out to stop you.

“You know,” you waved the pastry at him, small flakes breaking off and drifting onto the blanket, “you could do with rebelling a bit more.”  

Tom’s nostrils flared as he rolled his eyes, “as you wish.” A slight flicker at the corner of his mouth.

He flopped down onto the blanket, plunging his hand into the pink box and picking up the other raspberry crown.

“Cheers.” You both brought your pastries together pretending to clink them before taking a bite. The pastry was so buttery and soft, the jam sweet but with an edge of tang to it. It was the best jam you had ever tasted. You couldn’t help it, you didn’t even think about it.

“This is so great,” you mumbled through a full mouth, “I love you.”

And that was it.

That was the first time you told him you loved him.

Back then neither of you fully understood the type of love but you meant it all the same.

 "Hey, mine still do," Tom said, his tone low, slow like he was holding back.

You take a deep breath.

“I know, but I think sometimes we don’t put the same meanings into those words anymore. Maybe if you say it enough it starts to lose meaning.”

Tom simply blinks at you, clearly not expecting this conversation. Perhaps that was a good thing, it meant he wasn’t thinking about it right.

“It doesn’t have to lose meaning.” He swallows. “Has it lost meaning for you?”

“No, no,” you quickly respond. “No,” you say almost to yourself this time.

You know you still love him, you’re just wondering where all the secret kisses went. Or more, the meaning behind them.

So, you say, unable to keep it all to yourself anymore, “you used to pull me into a room for a stolen five minutes even though we worked in the same office.”

“You think I don’t love you because we don’t have time for secret little rendezvous?” Tom asks.

“I never said I thought you didn’t love me.”

You knew all your words were coming out wrong. You want to make Tom understand.

“Mummy, daddy,” a little voice trickles into your conversation, “do you not love each other anymore? Are you going to break up?”

Annie was sucking her thumb, something she hadn’t done for a year. This was bad. God this was a terrible time to talk about this. Why were you so selfish.

“No, no, darling, of course not,” you and Tom both said.

“We do have to go though,” he directs towards Annie.

He pulls her towards the door, picking his keys up from the windowsill before undoing the latch. They both step outside before Tom turns his head.

“We’ll talk when we get back, yeah?”

You nod meekly, unsure of whether this was the right thing to do at all.

  “How long have we been talking?”

Muffled sounds from the other side of the phone filled the room, everything else around you so still. The sun long since dipped in the sky.

“Six hours.” Both your voices were heavy with drowsiness.

“Really, has it been that long.” You tried to stifle a yawn.

After telling Tom how you truly felt about him, you felt freer. Able to let him into every part of you and you knew he was more comfortable too. You could feel it in when he put his arm around you, when he laughed with you, when he stayed on the phone with you for six hours without once suggesting that you should both go to bed. The effortlessness of the conversation made sense to you. It was how you felt when you first met him. Like he was the one who could keep you at ease.

“Mmm, I guess it has,” he said, now trying to stifle a yawn himself. “Are you tired yet?”

“No,” you lied.

You had made the mistake of lying down on your bed about an hour again. The soft silk of your pillow and the warmth of your duvet had instantly made you drowsy. You wanted to stay up all night to talk to Tom, but your body had other ideas. You knew you should go to sleep, after all, you had work in the morning, but everyone knows that people start to spill all their secrets at two am and you were only half an hour off.

There was one secret you were hoping Tom was keeping close to his chest but that was just wishful thinking. Just because you felt something doesn’t mean he did too.

“Y/N,” Tom’s groggy voice came through the phone.

“Mhm," you replied, your eyelids weighing more than you ever remembered.

“Just checking you are still awake.”

“Course, stay awake-” For a moment your head lolled onto your pillow, sleep circling in your brain.

You jolted up, rubbing your eye lightly, “mmm, stay awake all night.”

A crackled chuckle came from Tom.

“Whatever you say, love.”

As much as you fought it, you could barely keep one eye open now.

And as sleep pulled you into the world of impossible dreams you thought you heard three little words echo from the phone. A soft voice whispering, ‘I love you’.

 You slump down onto the stairs, letting your head fall into your hands, wishing immediately that Tom was back here in your arms. You want to run your fingers through his hair, tell him all about your day even though it’s only just beginning.

The love wasn’t lost between the two of you, you just have to make sure the other person knows that. To tell them every once in a while.

***

Did you ever have those moments where you are drawn out of where you are? Not to say you aren’t still present but more that you can see the picture like you are looking in from the outside. A moment of pure bliss, where you are hit with all your emotions at once. The moment when you just look at someone’s face and your heart floods with warmth because you know you love them. Everything feels good in that moment, everything feels light, feels calm.

Well as you threw back your head, laughter erupting from you, you had one of those moments. Snapping a mental polaroid that you would later scribble the three big words on, in a black felt tip marker.

Tom sat opposite you, his tongue caught in between his teeth as he choked back his own laughter. His hoodie was pulled down over his palms, so he could dab at the small tears that were starting to trickle down his face.

As you watched him you were overcome with a simple love, an untarnished love, a wholesome love. No complications. It fizzed throughout your entire body and you felt content, more content than you could ever wish to feel.

Tom’s hand on top of yours brought you back into the present. He had inched closer to you as he was laughing. You weren’t sure if he had done it on purpose or not. Should you follow suit and close the gap further? Pretending to shift in your seat, you scooted a little closer to him.

“I can’t believe you actually said that to him.” Tom’s eyes were wide with amusement.

“I just wasn’t thinking,” you said, biting down on your lip, mildly embarrassed.

Tom didn’t seem to notice, he just inched closer. His nose practically level with your own.

“Oh, you weren’t thinking, were you?” he teased, eyes flickering down to your mouth, then back up to meet your eyes.

You smirked, not because of the story but because you knew what was coming.

His lips brushed against yours, so faint you were almost not sure if they were really there. Then a hand rested on the back of your head, a light pressure tempting you forwards. Your lips met again, this time a little harder and you fell into the kiss, small giggles exchanged between you.

Your fingers danced around the drawstrings of his hoodie, trying to find their own place in this moment.

Sighing deeply into his lips, “I love you” slipped from your own.

You hadn’t meant to say it. But it felt right. It felt exciting. You really did mean it. You really loved him.

 You weren’t sure if you should even cry, you didn’t know what any of this meant. You just want to see Tom. As if he could read your mind the door unlocks.

“Y/N, where are you?” He sounds spirited.

“Here,” you call out, unsure of what to make of it. Now unsure of how to act around your own husband, feeling awkward at the thought of talking to him. Now that you had said it aloud it all seems so silly.  

Tom follows your voice into the kitchen where you are sitting at the breakfast table, your hands wrapped around a mug of lukewarm tea.

Tom looks positively gleeful when you say, “hi.”

“I got you something,” he said.  

You hadn’t noticed how one of his arms was held behind his back until he brought it forward, a pink box in it.

You look quizzically at it, not understanding straight away.

Gently, he places it on the table and flips open the lid. Inside lie two freshly baked raspberry crowns, the pastry golden and the filling shiny with glazing.

“I was thinking about what you said throughout the whole drive and I miss putting in maximum effort too.”

You knew this feeling was only a temporary one because as you stare at Tom in front of you, you couldn’t imagine your life being any different and you didn’t want it to be.

“Do you remember the rooftop picnic, the first time we had these?” Tom pulls out a chair next to you, his hand finding your knee and cupping it firmly. Your hand automatically goes to his.

“I do,” you say.

“That was the first time you told me you loved me.”

“And I meant it.”

Tom’s hand drifts slightly further up your leg. The force.

“And I still do.”

Tagging a few peeps: @thelazypangolin @mysteryavengers @tomhollandthirst @anxieteaandbiscuits @rachramblesstuff @h-osterfield @hazsterfield  @whyistomholland