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rafor · 1 year ago

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Chapter 49 - Intercepted - The Glitch

I showed Freya how to operate a gun, a strange device for her that had been customized for our quadrupedal forms. As soon as we left the kingdom and ventured beyond our domain, we found a clear spot to practice shooting. Holding the gun felt awkward, but aiming was effortless. The recoil was mild, but the effect was devastating. Instead of bullets, the gun fired fragments of some kind of dust that it generated internally. The fragments flew at such a high speed and were so charged that they either electrocuted or incinerated anything they hit. The gun seemed to have infinite ammunition until, after countless shots, it suddenly stopped working. So did Freya's. The lights and indicators on the guns, which we had learned to read, went dark. The guns had run out of energy.

I looked for a way to recharge them and discovered a hidden tray that required a screwdriver to open. Luckily, I had one with me. I shifted back to my human shape and opened the tray. Inside, there was a dark crystal. I touched it and felt no power in it. I used my element to infuse it with energy, then put it back and closed the tray. I shifted again to my dragon form and tested the gun. It worked as before. What a terrible design for a weapon! In a battle, this would be fatal. I recharged Freya's gun as well, and then we resumed our journey.

We flew for many hours each day, heading south, until we reached the jungle. It was a vast expanse of green where rain never ceased at the equator. We decided to cross it in one go rather than go around it. But halfway through, our wings gave out, and we had to land. We searched for a safe spot and found a tree with giant leaves that sheltered us from the rain. It looked like a good place to rest, but we knew better than to let our guard down in unfamiliar territory. Our rule was to never stop in a place that we didn't know or trust. Freya offered to take the first watch while I slept for a couple of hours, but I protested. She insisted, so I relented. I lay down on the hard but tolerable ground and listened to the soothing sound of the raindrops. Within minutes, I drifted into sleep.

I was jolted awake by a noise, scanning the surroundings with a surge of panic. Freya was gone, and my heart skipped a beat. For a split second, I wondered if I was trapped in a nightmare, but the cold rain on my brow told me otherwise. This was real, and I was in danger. I checked myself for any injuries, but I was fine. She was the one who had been taken. I searched more intently. Through the dense foliage, barely ten meters away, I spotted a flash of white. “Freya?” I called out, hoping for an answer. None came. Then I saw the green scales and the large eyes that fixed me with a predatory gaze. The creature emerged from its hiding place. A green dragon, snake-like and massive, with a long tail that coiled around Freya’s limp body. She had two red punctures on her neck and looked unconscious. She had been bitten and probably poisoned. I yelled, “Let her go, right now!” I aimed my gun at the beast, but it seemed unfazed by the unfamiliar weapon. It ignored my warning and taunted me instead. I threw a rock at it, hitting the ground near its head, as a warning. I wanted it to know that I wouldn’t back down without a fight. I pointed at Freya, making it clear that she was mine. The dragon understood and spoke in a raspy voice, “Why should I? She’s such a cute and nice white dragoness. She can’t go to waste. Ehehe.” I retorted, “She’s not food. She’s my partner! You overgrown snake.” It replied mockingly, “Oh, so you’re a couple? What a sad story.” It was distracting me with its words, and I failed to notice the second one that crept up behind me until it glanced at it. Before I could turn around, it grabbed me with its jaws, sinking its fangs into my neck. It held me tight against its chest, making me drop my gun. I felt dizzy and realized that the poison was spreading through my veins. It was also blocking my ability to use my elements. I couldn’t believe that I had been caught off guard like that. But I didn’t give up hope. I drew a dagger and stabbed its arm, but it barely flinched. It kept squeezing me into its deadly embrace. So I kept slashing, trying to reach its head or neck, but I couldn’t.

With his tail still holding Freya as a trophy, the other green dragon sneered at me. “It’s over, little shadow dragon. Accept your fate.” I tried to scream, “Never, you bloody murderers!” but the dragon that was biting me silenced me with a “Shhhh.” I loathed every second of this ordeal. They were waiting for me to close my eyes, but it was taking much longer than I expected and longer than they were accustomed to. They began to whisper among themselves. “Why hasn’t he fallen yet?” one asked. “I don’t know. I bit him, I swear,” the other answered. The dragon that had taken Freya approached me. It barely resembled a dragon, with wings that looked unfit for flight and a body like a giant snake. It examined me with curiosity. “You bit him on the neck. Are you sure you still have poison left?” it questioned. “Yes, wait, let’s try again,” the other said. I saw it coming and shouted, “No, don’t you dare!” but it ignored me and bit me again. This time, its teeth pierced my flesh, and blood trickled down my neck. It was agonizing. It spat out my blood, which had turned into white smoke. It looked puzzled. “What the hell is this?” it wondered. “I don’t know. Does it hurt?” the other asked. “No, it’s just smoke,” it said. I was still conscious and watching them, bewildered by their confusion. My wound healed quickly, thanks to my healing element, which was luckily still working. It was all I had left. The dragon that had taken Freya said, “Ok, let me try. Something is wrong.” Once more, I shouted, “No, wait, it doesn’t work!” but it bit me anyway, not on my neck but near my head. Its fangs were even bigger, and they stabbed my throat like daggers. I tasted blood and something else—something salty and burning. I guessed it was the poison. Smoke erupted from my mouth.

The dragons decided to change their strategy. Their fangs and venom had failed to subdue me, so they resorted to brute force. The same dragon that had sunk its teeth into my flesh spoke with a raspy voice. “Hold him still. I’m going to crush his windpipe.” I pleaded with them, “Wait, can we talk about this, please?” But it ignored me and proceeded with its plan, while the other one pinned me down with its claws. One of them constricted my chest, preventing me from expanding my lungs. The other one then wrapped its tail around my neck and then my nose, squeezing me with such force that I heard a sickening snap from my spine. Something had shattered. A wave of agony washed over me. They had broken my backbone. I tried to move, but my body was unresponsive. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. Everything felt like it was on fire. The venom was still coursing through my veins and reaching my brain, but I did not lose consciousness. Oh no, I did not. I had an astounding resilience to everything that afflicted me. After they heard the crack, the dragons released me and recoiled in horror. “Ugh, that was awful,” one of them said. “Yeah, that’s too cruel even for me,” the other one agreed. And they left me there, lying on the ground. Paralyzed, I could only stare with wide eyes of torment.

As I lay on the ground, wounded and bleeding, one of them leaned over me and snarled, “Why won’t you die? What are you?” I spat out some blood and smirked, saying, “You’re just trying to kill a king and his queen, you fools.” He scoffed, “You are delusional and crazy,” and he was partly right. I felt a surge of madness in my veins and burst into maniacal laughter. He shouted, “Take him. We need help.” I taunted, “Oh, yes, bring me to the others. I can’t wait to see you fail to kill me again.” He ignored me and ordered, “Take his equipment too.” They stripped us of our gear and dragged us along. On the way, I saw them blindfold Freya, and then they did the same to me, but for some reason I could still see through the cloth made of some kind of leaf. My spine healed itself, and I tried to break free, but they immediately bit me, and my powers were locked again. I cried out, “Oh, please just let us go. We were just passing through.” They gave no answer. Every time I regained some strength, I attempted to fight back, but they snapped my spine again. After the second time, I gave up. I never wanted to endure such agony again.

The ordeal seemed to last forever, until at last we heard new voices. Another dragon, similar to our captors but with a different shade of green, spoke with a hint of admiration. “Oh, I see your hunting has been successful. Is that a shadow and a wind dragon?”

They answered hesitantly, “Ehm, probably.”

I seized the opportunity and said, “Oh yeah, a shadow dragon, black as the plague!”

She looked at me with surprise and said, “Oh, it’s still awake. Let me fix that.”

I shouted, “No, wait, it doesn’t work...” but it was too late. She bit me hard and wrapped her tail around my neck, cutting off my air and my movements. She snapped my spine without mercy, unlike the others, who had done it almost by accident the first time. She did it on purpose. She was ruthless. I went limp, but I was awake. She held me in her grip for more than ten minutes. She wanted to make sure I was dead, but I wasn’t. I survived. Even when I felt my heart stop beating, I was still conscious, but I pretended to be dead.

She finally released me and said, “Next time, make sure they aren’t awake. If you are so bad at doing so, just kill’em.”

They protested, “Wait, we did that, but he was immortal, I swear.”

She didn’t believe them, just like they didn’t believe me, and said, “Yeah, yeah, sure, come on, let’s put an end to the suffering of this second one too.”

I heard that, and I knew she was going to kill Freya. My heart started pounding like mad, and I sprang into action. I was still in terrible shape, but I managed to unlock the light element. I turned myself into a cloud of light, trying to reach her and do the same for her and save us both, but after a few seconds, my element failed me again, and I reverted to my form, surrounded by white smoke as parts of my body were still regenerating.

She gasped, “What the... how did you not die?”

The others said, “We told you he was immortal.”

I pleaded, “Please, please listen to me. Don’t kill her. She’s the Queen of the Kingdom of the Whispering Wind, I beg you.”

She stared at me doubtfully and then glanced at her, who was already on the brink of death.

She gazed at the severed head in her claws, noticing the distinctive mark on its neck. A jolt of recognition ran through her. She gently lowered the head to the ground and released it from her grip. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Holy queen of life, she’s... she’s..." She racked her brain for the name, then blurted out, “Queen Freya.” The others echoed, “Who?” She gasped, “Wow, you’re lucky you didn’t kill her. We’re in big trouble.” I looked at Freya, whose neck had turned black near the bite mark. She said, “We have to stop the venom before it spreads. Hurry to the village.” I said, “Wait, I can heal that. Just let me, agh.” My spine was still broken, and I felt a surge of pain. She said, “You can? Since when can a shadow dragon do that?” I said, “I’m not just a shadow dragon. Damnit.” I tried to move, but my body was paralyzed. The only parts I could control were my head and mouth. She asked, “How long ago did you bite her?” They said, “A couple of hours, maybe? It’s hard to tell.” She thought for a moment and then asked me, “Can you heal her?” I said, “First, I have to heal myself. Then, I will.” She said, “Do you think you can heal both of you in less than an hour?” I said, “If you would stop biting me, I could heal myself in less than twenty minutes.” As I spoke, one of the other dragons sneaked behind me and snapped my neck back into place with a swift motion. I couldn’t move. It was more than just a dislocated bone. My spine was shattered. It was excruciating, but after fifteen seconds of agony, I felt my body again. I said, “Oh, wow, that was the worst thing I ever felt. Thanks anyway.” He said, “You’re welcome, and I'm sorry about before. Ehehe.” The female dragon was curious and asked, “Wait, did you already break his spine?” He proudly said, “A couple of times, actually.” I confirmed, “Yeah, those two did it with their bare... tails.” She said, “Oh wow, congrats. I’m so proud of you. But can you please save your queen now before it’s too late?” I said, “Of course.” I reached for her and placed my hand on her neck. It was horrible to see the size of the wounds where the fangs had pierced through. As I healed her, I said, “You have really big and deadly fangs, I must say.” She said, “Mine are even bigger than theirs, to be honest.” One of the others said, “Oh, sister, that’s rude.” She said, “It’s the truth. What do you want me to say?”. The wound closed, and the neck returned to its normal color. The queen’s breathing stabilized. She still didn’t wake up. I shouted, “Hey, Freya, please wake up.” She didn’t respond, and I didn’t know why. The older sister said, “Let’s take her to the village. She needs to rest.” I agreed and said “Yeah, I think she would appreciate that.”. That was true. She hadn’t even rested before because she volunteered to do the first shift of guard duty.

#chapter #dragon #dragons #elements #fantasy #literature #mystery #story #poetry #adventure #the_glitch #the rise and fall of raphael

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

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Oblivious

A/N | This is just a little sweet fluff with Buckaroo. It’s also a late little happy birthday for @falcor-thee-luck-dragon! I hope you (and everyone else) enjoys!

Summary | You’d think Bucky wouldn’t be so oblivious but...he was.

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.9k

Warnings | language

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

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James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky Barnes was a man of many talents and had a vast knowledge of a variety of things. Sometimes, however, things were so obvious and clear that they went right over his head. You could hit him in the face with a 2x4 and he wouldn’t know what happened oblivious. Like the fact that you, his girlfriend of almost a year, had the strange and peculiar ability to communicate with animals. You’d never hid it, nor explicitly told him about it, thinking it would be funny to see how long it would take him to catch on. 330 days (and counting) in and he hadn’t.

Bucky grabbed his phone, scrolling through his social media feeds quickly before pulling up Spotify and turning to his secret indulgence playlist - classical Italian Opera. Yeah. It was just a thing he had happened to really like for no particular reason. The only other living souls in his apartment with him were Archie, your black and white speckled mutt and Alpine, Bucky’s snow white cat. You were currently out of town for work and had asked Bucky if he minded watching Archie, to which he had of course said yes. It was no secret that Archie loved Bucky almost as much as you and vice versa - he was the goodest boy as Bucky had proclaimed. Plus, the cat and dog got along like they were old best friends.

Trailing into the bathroom, he stripped off his t-shirt and pajama pants as Archie laid on the bed and offered him a dismissal look. Alpine was tucked into his side as she slept soundly, paying no attention to her owner.

As he turned on the shower and let the water warm up, he finished stripping off his clothes before deciding to sing along with his music as best as he could. Bucky didn’t speak Italian. It showed. But he was passionate about giving it all as he got ready to take on the day. Archie groaned as Bucky hit a particularly high note, burying his face under the soft duvet.

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“You ever gonna ask her the question?” Sam raised an eyebrow at Bucky as the two men walked alongside the creek. Bucky had decided that ice cream and a walk for Archie were called for, so he’d taken advantage of the nice weather and gone outside. Missing your company, despite you only having been gone for a few days, he’d called up Sam and convinced him to meet up. Not that it took much convincing; the men were as thick as thieves, no matter how much they denied it. Co-workers, partners - best friends.

“Umm,” Bucky’s eyes widened as he almost choked on his ice cream, awkwardly coughing to cover up his nerves. Sam just snickered in response as he realized he already had his answer. After a moment he slowly nodded, “I have the ring...it’s been sitting in the sock drawer.”

“Sock drawer,” Sam snorted and shook his head as a flush of red colored Bucky’s neck and ears, “classic. When are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky sighed as he broke off a piece of waffle cone and handed it to Archie, who had been listening in very intently, “I want to...but what if it’s too soon. We technically don’t even live together yet-”

“Doesn’t she like to spend her time at yours? She’s practically moved in...most of the stuff at your place is hers anyway,” Sam reminded him as Bucky made a small, noncommittal sound. It was true - when you’d first met Bucky his place had been minimal and bare. Now, with your time and touch, it felt like a home; a home you had lovingly built with him. Sam bumped Bucky’s shoulder with his, “just get it all done in one swoop. She’ll say yes.”

Archie made a small sound, agreeing with Sam as he rubbed his snout against Bucky’s thigh. He visibly relaxed as he nodded, hoping that this would be enough to psych him up, “I’ll think about it-”

“No thinking about it,” Sam tutted gently, “you’re going to do it. You’ve been a fool - a straight up head over heels in love fool - since you’ve met her. You’re going to ask.”

“Sam…”

“How long have you had the ring?”

“Sam.”

“Bucky.”

“A few weeks after we started dating,” Bucky cast his glance at the ground as warmth flushed up in his cheeks. He’d expected Sam to burst out in laughter, but luckily the other man said nothing, but a smile stretched across his features, “it seems so silly but you know..I just felt like I knew.”

“Sometimes you do,” Sam agreed, putting his arm around his shoulder and pulling him for a quick hug, “you just gotta do it, Buck. She won’t say no.”

Archie barked in response, looking between the two men, wagging his tail excitedly. Sam offered him a few pets before nodding in response.

“She comes home in a few days,” he couldn’t wait to pick you up from the airport and have you jump into his arms while he finally got to hold you again, “I’ve got until then to pluck up the courage.”

“Just don’t lay it on her right away…” Sam snorted as he picked Bucky running up to you immediately pouring his heart out to you. Not a good idea, “give her a moment to be calm and breath.”

“Shut up,” Bucky huffed as he finished the rest of his ice cream, “I’ve got this!”

“We’re all counting on that!”

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Bucky set the empty popcorn bowl back on the coffee table as he tried not to sniffle too loudly. His eyes were misty and burning with unshed tears as he watched whatever cheesy romance he had randomly selected. He pulled the soft blanket he was curled up in higher, savoring the fact that it still managed to have a faint bit of your smell on it. Alpine was curled up on the back of the couch, snoozing away while Archie was laying next to him, his head resting on Bucky’s thigh. He was on and off sleeping, but had peeped open an eye when he first heard Bucky sniffle.

“They’re in love,” he whispered gently, unsure if he was speaking to himself or talking to his furry companions. He was scratching Archie’s ears as he watched the scenes play out on the screen, “but they can’t be together. Their families would never allow it.”

Archie huffed lightly as he burrowed further into Bucky’s touch. It was the first time he’d seen the man get so emotional over the movie. Bucky had feelings, plenty of them, of course, but there was something about the movie he’d picked, combined with how much he was missing you that caused him to just lose it. It was like the dam had burst and his emotions were out of control.

He sat back and watched the rest of the movie in silence, a few tears running down his cheeks as he watched the love story play out. By the end of the movie, Archie was fully in his lap and Alpine was resting on his chest, “he left everything behind for her, so they could start a new life together far away. They really were next to meant to be together. It’s beautiful.”

The furry little ones were absolutely going to tell you about this.

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Archie yawned and slowly stretched before hopping down from the couch and heading towards Bucky’s bedroom. He tried to nose the door open as he learned to do, but was stopped when he found that it was closed all the way. His head tilted in curiosity and whined softly as he tried to see if Bucky was awake so he would let him in.

As soon as he did, the dog regretted it. All he could hear coming from inside was the soft sounds coming from Bucky. Soft moans and sounds and gentle whispers of your name. His eyes widened as the dog took off down the hall and ran back into the living room, flopping down on his dog bed and cuddling up to Alpine as he tried to empty his mind. All the poor dog had wanted to do was to sleep in the big soft bed - not be scarred for life.

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“Bucky!” as soon as you’d gotten cleared and walked through arrivals and gotten your single bag, you’d kept your eyes peeled for Bucky. It didn’t take long to find him, standing near the back, blue eyes scanning the arrivals with a hopeful little smile on his face. You almost dropped your bag as you ran over to him. As soon as you were in arm’s reach, you dropped everything to the ground, and Bucky effortlessly scooped you up in his arms. You threw your arms around his neck as he held you in a tight embrace, “James. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he sighed in content, happy to have you in his arms once again. Everything about you set his soul on fire, as he held onto you as tightly as possible. After a moment, he slowly set you back down, but not before peppering your face in gentle kisses, “you’re so beautiful.”

“Bucky,” you reached up and gently touched his cheek, “you’re too much. I’m so glad to be home.”

“Not quite yet.”

“Sure I am,” you insisted quietly, “I’m here with you. You’re my home, Bucky.”

The small velvet box was practically burning a hole in his pocket as you looked at him like he was everything - your whole world (he was). Unable to form a proper sentence, he grabbed your face and pulled you close to him, crashing his lips onto yours, kissing you like you weren’t in the middle of a crowded airport. He could feel you smiling against his lips, reluctantly breaking apart from you only once you were both breathless.

“What was that for?” you asked shyly, feeling your face flush with warmth as he picked up your bags for you. You were watching him with pure adoration as he reached for your hand and laced your fingers together.

“Nothing,” he shrugged softly, “jus’ missed you is all, pretty girl.”

“I missed you too, Bucky,” you promised, “I love you.”

“I love you more than all the moon and stars, pretty girl.”

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“What?” you asked as Archie came into the kitchen and sat down, watching you intently as you finished up the cookies you had been working. Bucky was busy with Sam that afternoon, so you’d decided to make a little sweet treat for both of you. You’d been home for a few days and fallen into an easy routine, having opted to stay with Bucky for the time being rather than going back to your own place, “you’ve got something to say, I can tell.”

Just missed you. I like when you’re home, you and Bucky. And Alpine.

“I missed you too, buddy,” you promised, leaning over to his head a gentle pet, “did you have fun while I was gone?”

Yes. Bucky takes good care of me. I like Alpine too. She’s nice.

“I happen to like them a lot too,” you grinned at your friend, “I’m glad you do too. I think...I really love him, Archie. I think, no, I know - he’s the one.”

He thinks so too. He told Sam you’re the one - and us too.

“Really?” you almost dropped the cookies you were plating up in surprise as you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from squealing in excitement, “you’re not messing with me, are you?”

It’s true. He’s got...well, you’ll see. He likes romance movies apparently. And singing opera.

“Oh?”

He was watching a movie. He ate two bowls of popcorn and cried. He let me and Alpine sit on him though so it was okay. He sings opera when he showers in the morning. He’s not good but he tries.

“Archie! Don’t be a meanie,” you chuckled as you tried to picture the scene. It would have been hilarious to see. You’d always known Bucky had a soft side, you just didn’t know how soft, “but I will remember that and use it to my advantage when I want to watch a cheesy movie.”

Please do. He gives good pets when he’s in that mood. He always gives good pets.

“He’s a good man,” you grinned as you reached over the counter for a good treat that you easily tossed to him, “I really love him.”

He really loves you. One night I...never mind.

“No, no,” you shook your head as you waggled another treat at him, “out with it! Or I’ll hide all of your treats!”

Fine. But you didn’t hear it from me - I wanted to sleep in the big bed one night and the door was closed and I heard him. He was...saying your name.

Your brows narrowed in confusion for a moment as you pulled another treat out and twirled it in your fingers for a moment. Then you hit you, what he had meant, “oh. Oh. That is...good to know, I suppose.”

Not for me. I just wanted to sleep, not...hear that.

“Sorry buddy,” you snorted as you handed him another treat, “that will stay between us. Besides...he still doesn’t know we can communicate. I wonder if he’ll ever put two and two together?”

You could just tell him.

“But where’s the fun in that?” you teased as the door opened and Bucky walked in, a giant grin on his face. You looked at Archie and shot him a wink before turning to Bucky, “hello, my love. You’re just in time! Cookies are done and cooled!”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Bucky came over and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before petting Archie, “I love you. Is someone here? I could have sworn you were talking to someone…”

“Nope,” you (half) lied, covering up with a brilliant smile, “just me and the dog and cat.”

“Oh,” he shrugged, thinking it was just his imagination, “what’s all this? Cookies - whatever for?”

“Just because I love you,” you grinned as Archie groaned and laid down, “both of you!”

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You stopped for a moment to catch your breath as you reached one of the peaks of the small mountain you and Bucky were hiking. It was a glorious day so you’d decided there was no better plan than to get out and enjoy nature. He had no problem at any point, even offering to piggy back you when you’d grown tired; you’d just defiantly stuck your tongue out at the super soldier and carried on.

“This view is absolutely breathtaking,” you looked over the small cliff, admiring the tranquil expanse of the woods in front of you. Bucky was at your side, his eyes on you the entire time.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a grin, “it’s pretty amazin’.”

“Bucky,” you turned around and rolled your eyes at him as he pulled you in for a kiss, causing you to break into a fit of giggles, “I’m all gross and sweaty!”

“Don’t care,” he insisted as his hands found purchase on your waist and pulled you closer against him, his lips already ghosting over yours, “jus’ want you, baby.”

“Bucky,” his name was soft on your lips, but before anything else could happen, you were stopped by a small, almost nervous little voice from up above.

Umm, hi! I don’t want to interrupt but…

You pulled back from Bucky for a moment before looking at the tree, where you found a small squirrel sitting on a branch and watching you both. Bucky was surprised for a moment but calmed when you gave his shoulder a squeeze and gently moved past him and towards your new friend.

“Hi,” you smiled at her and offered a smile, picking up an acorn and handing it over to her, “is everything alright?”

Oh yes. I just wanted to let you know there’s a big group of people coming. If you want some privacy you should go somewhere more secluded! They’re pretty loud, I don’t like big groups.

“Oh!” you giggled as you could only imagine the awkward scenario if you’d been caught, “thanks for the heads up! We’ll definitely get out of here. I’m sorry you have to deal with all the noise.”

It’s okay. I’m going back to my nest now! If you go down the hill, there’s a more private path that leads back down the mountain. There’s signs if you need them.

“Why thank you,” you grinned as you reached up and she let you pet her, “you’ve been very helpful. Maybe one day we’ll see each other again.“

No problem. I hope so too! Thank you for the acorn!

“Anytime,” you promised as she scurried away with her new treasure. You shook your head in amusement as you turned back around to Bucky, to find him watching you with wide eyes. He wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, almost wondering if he was hallucinating. Had you just gone mad and tried to speak to a squirrel? You laughed lightly at the shocked look on his features, “oh.”

“What was...what was that?” he asked as you rejoined him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His eyes were still scanning the branch the small squirrel had just occupied.

“She was just warning us that there’s a group of hikers coming our way and we should find someplace more private,” you said as if it was no big deal. It didn’t help Bucky in the slightest.

“She? A warning...how….That was a squirrel!”

“I was wondering if you’d ever put two and two together,” you laughed, almost doubling over in laughter, “I...Bucky, I don’t know how or why but I can communicate with animals.”

“You can….how long?!”

“Ever since I’ve been a child?” you held up your hands in earnest, “its something I’ve always been able to do. I don’t advertise it, obviously because people generally think I’m crazy, but I would think you of all people understand. It’s just been...fun to wait and see if you’d ever figure it out.”

“All those times…” he ran a hand over his face in exasperation and disbelief as you watched him in amusement. He was a brilliant, smart man but sometimes he was so oblivious. You couldn’t love him anymore if you tried, “it wasn’t just...a one sided conversation. It all makes sense now. Wow, that’s amazing! What a wonderful thing to possess.”

“I’ve always liked it,” you agreed, “it’s different, you know? But special in its own way.”

“Wait…” he mused for a moment, “so all those times...oh. H-how much have Archie and Alpine told you? Have they always talked to you?”

“Yup,” you crossed your arms over your chest, as you watched his neck and ears turn red, “those two in particular are very animated and over the top. They’re the worst little gossip duo. Almost like you and Sammy.”

“Of course they are,” he groaned as you reached for his hand and pulled him towards. He gave you a sheepish grin as you pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, “they told you about the movie, huh?”

“Archie,” you confirmed, “but he did say you gave him the best pets.”

“Did he tell about...oh no,” this time his whole face was a brilliant crimson, “I-I…”

“Oh stop,” you teased, “I’m flattered and honored. It’s not like I don’t do the same when I’m not with you.”

“Really?” he perked up with pride as you just nodded in amusement, “well then. Wait - did he tell you about Sam?”

“He said you went on a walk with him but that was it,” you shrugged, “nothing really. I do know that he loves you and Alpine very much. And so do I, obviously.”

“Okay,” he relaxed slightly as you took his hand and started to lead him towards the more secluded path your little squirrel had told you about. The box in his pocket was once again burning a hole, “good.”

“Everything okay, Bub?” you asked as he just nodded, lips pursed as he fell into step behind you. Something was definitely off, but you weren’t going to push him on it. If anything, you knew he’d come around and speak his mind about what was going on. He usually always did.

A silence, one neither tense nor uncomfortable, fell over the two of you as you walked down the quiet trail. It was beautiful - lush greenery and newly bloomed plants everywhere. At one point you stopped and pulled out your phone to take a few pictures of the natural beauty. Bucky had been so lost in his own thoughts, his heart practically pounding in his chest and consuming every part of him that he almost bowled into you and knocked you over.

“James!” it was somewhere between a groan and laugh as he caught you in his arms in order to keep you from tumbling into a bunch of bushes. You were face to face with Bucky, looking at him intently as he steadied you, “alright, something’s up. Come on - out with it. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I umm...marry me?” all the speeches he had gone over and planned wet out the window as he just stared at you with nervous eyes. You’d been so taken aback by his sudden question that you took a step back and gave him a curious expression. Bucky’s stomach was in absolute knots as he wondered if he’d just fucked everything up.

“W-what?” your voice was a small squeak, as you tried to see if he was just pulling your leg. But his gaze never wavered, “what did you just ask me?”

“I…” he stopped over a moment before reaching into his pocket with trembling hands and pulling out a small box. Your eyes widened in response as you realized that was not joking at all, further evidenced when he popped it open and showed you the ring inside. Your mouth dropped open when it all came together, “I thought the whole proposal would go a lot differently than this but umm...yeah. Will you marry me? That’s what I’m trying to ask...I’m glad Archie hadn’t spoiled that for you.”

“No,” you shook your head as you already felt tears pricking at your eyes, “he definitely didn’t. I thought he might have been holding something back, but I...I had no idea.”

“I know it hasn’t even been a year yet, but I feel like when you know someone 's the one..you know,” he admitted softly, “and I know you’re the one. The one I want to spend the rest of my life with, the one I want to call my wife...my everything.”

“James,” you looked between him and the ring a few more times before swallowing the lump in your throat, “gods, I am so in love with you. There was never a doubt in my mind that it was meant to be you. Yes, of course yes.”

“Really?!”

“Of course,” you beamed at him, “I love you, Bucky. You’re my forever.”

“Forever,” he breathed softly, “I like the sound of that.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes

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nightwishesworld · 4 years ago

Note

hello! do you think you could do a chapter with fem!reader whose afraid of thunderstorms and wakes up in the middle of the night because of it but doesn’t wanna wake alcina so she just stays awake but the storm goes on for like a week and this keeps happening until she notices and comforts you through it by like cuddles or talking you to sleep to distract you from it :)

Oh my god I hate the way this came out. My brain just could not process this for some reason. I also couldn't make it as long as a week, my apologies.

**************

One dark evening at Castle Dimitrescu a storm rolled in. Relatively speaking, it was quite harmless and most of the inhabitants of the castle were unbothered by the storm.

Except you.

Late into the evening, whilst most were asleep, the storm was at its strongest - the crackle of thunder rolling through the halls as flashes of lightning illuminated the darkest corners of the room. You were trying to sleep, honest, but just as you felt the drowsiness of rest come to take you - a loud crack of thunder would jolt you awake and paralyze you with fear.

You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing rapid.

You pulled the covers up to your chest and hugged your pillow close to your chest. Resisting the urge to run and hide in the closet like you used to do as a kid was becoming more and more difficult.

Another flash, another boom.

You knew it wasn’t logical, but you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching or jumping as the sounds of the storm roared outside. It was just so loud and you could swear the castle was shaking with it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, white-knuckling the pillow held tight against your chest and humming a song to yourself in order to distract your brain.

The sound of constant rain was suddenly accompanied by heavy hail falling, and that’s when the thoughts started charging at you full force.

What if the lightning strikes the castle? What if the castle collapsed? Did it have the right infrastructure? What if-

“Stop it, God. Stop it!” You begged your brain but to no avail. Your mind kept generously providing you with possibilities and images you did not ask for.

Another loud boom and this time you couldn’t help the cry let out before clapping a hand over your mouth and diving under the blankets.

When you didn’t hear anything for a few minutes you felt it safe enough to come out of hiding. Thankfully the vampire slumbering next to you wasn’t disturbed by your pathetic cries and whimpers. She had a rough day dealing with a very pissed off Mother Miranda and needed rest and relaxation as much as she could possibly get.

You forced yourself to lay still on your back and focus all your energy on controlling your breathing. That was the key to saving yourself a panic attack. You don’t know how long you were staring up at the ceiling, but dawn eventually came and your partner stirred from her sleep.

She would have been happy to see you if not for the redness in your eyes and puffiness surrounding them, obvious signs of lack of sleep.

“Are you alright, draga mea?” She wrapped her arms around your midsection and rested her head on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

You didn’t answer, even though you knew Alcina wouldn’t just drop the question. She was sweet and caring like that, which is probably why you never had the heart to tell her how much of a coward you actually are.

“You didn’t sleep very well, did you?”

“Nightmares,” you rasped, trying to focus on Alcina more than the low rumbling outside. “I’ll be fine after a cup of coffee.”

She looked as though she didn’t accept that answer but quickly hid any doubts behind a warm smile. “If you’re sure.”

It felt wrong lying to her. You had never felt the need to hide anything from Alcina before, but this was just embarrassing. She’d probably laugh at you told her you were still afraid of thunderstorms.

The day progressed with relative normalcy despite the occasional sounds of rumbling. Alcina busied herself dealing with the mountain of paperwork on her desk for Mother Miranda and the girls were running amuck in the basement. Depending on which room you were in you could hear their laughter below you. Their mischief down there has always been a mystery to you, even now after living in the castle a couple of years. You knew what they were doing, but couldn't fathom the idea of enjoying it so much. You did find it rather disturbing that their torturing frightened you less than a stupid thunderstorm.

You huddled in the back section of the library behind the bookshelves so you couldn’t see the lightning out the windows. The loud rumbling still had you on edge, but a good book is always a welcome distraction. It worked so well, that you didn't hear Daniela approaching. You practically jumped three feet in the air when she was stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong with you?” Daniela asked, her voice was stern, but it also had a concerning tone to it. She had dropped her bag, keeping the knife at her side. Your breathing was heavier than usual as you tried to think of what to say. It was more than embarrassing to tell Daniela the truth. You knew for a fact she out of everyone in the castle would laugh at you. "You scared me,"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Dummy, I mean what's really wrong?"

You shrug and turn the page of your book. “Nothing.”

Another boom. You couldn’t fight off flinched.

“Oh, I think I get it. You’re afraid of-”

“Don’t tell anyone.” You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes tightly. Daniela wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. You watched as she cautiously sat back down. The redhead sat in front of you, the rain somehow sounding even louder than it had before. You looked over at Daniela, feeling the embarrassment creep upon you.

Daniela started at you with a rather confused expression, resting her arms on her knees. “Out of everything we’ve been through,” she began, “everything you’ve seen us do. Everything that goes on in this castle just below your feet,” she paused. “And you’re scared of thunder?”

You sat silently and twiddled your thumbs.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you whisper. “It’s not important. You’re only going to run off and tell everyone.”

Daniela rolled her eyes and picked up her bag, headed once again for the basement. “Whatever, y/n, have it your way.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening shuffling around the library hiding from the white flashes. It was only when Daniela came to fetch you for dinner that you left. Luckily you were eating in the kitchen instead of the larger Dining Hall. The kitchen is much more manageable; marginally fewer windows to see the lightning. The meal carried on as it normally would; the girls boasted about their successes in the basement, Alcina discusses all the work she got done today and complains about the work she put off for tomorrow. It was almost enough to take your mind off the chaos happening just outside the windows. Almost.

The storm carried on just as confidently throughout the evening and into the night. It showed no signs of relenting, which in turn meant another sleepless night.

You wasted no time stripping your clothes and crawling into bed, back to the open windows. Alcina didn’t think much of it, simply chalking it up to being exhausted from the previous night’s lack of sleep. She wasn’t completely wrong, you did feel like you were ready to sleep for the next 24 hours. But you knew the storm wouldn’t allow you that luxury.

Pressure against your back and an arm wrapping around your midsection snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I hope you sleep tonight, my love.”

“Me too.”

An hour later and you were still wide awake listening to the rain being pelted against the windows. An anxious voice whispered impossible scenarios of the rain breaking through the windows and lightning striking you down in the safety of your bed. You tried your hardest to not toss and turn as to not disturb the woman next to you. She's not asleep yet, you can tell by the lack of snoring, but her breathing is starting to even out. You were curled up on your side, back to Alcina. She wrapped you in her arms, her chest against your back and arm across your waist. "Dove..." she whispered in your ear. "Y/n... "

"I'm sleeping, Al." You murmured snuggling further into the vampire’s arms, your eyes still closed.

"No, you're not." She stroked your side absently. “Are you sure you’re ok? You aren’t falling ill are you?”

You sigh. “No, I’m not getting sick. My body is just too exhausted to relax.”

Alcina hummed, burrowing her face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll stay up with you for a while.”

“You will not. Go to sleep Al, I’ll be fine. You had a long day yourself, one of us should be able to sleep."

"Why don't we go sit in the Drawing Room or the Library? I'll hold you in my lap and read to you." God no. Way too many windows. "Goodnight, Alcina." You feel her sigh against your skin, pushing a few stray hairs around. "Can I do anything?" "Stop worrying, it's just insomnia." "I'll stay up with you then. You shouldn't be up all by yourself staring at the ceiling." "I'm not alone, Love, you're right here with me. Asleep or not I'm still in your arms, and that helps a lot." You feel her smile against your neck and pull you closer against her front. "wake me if you need anything."

You actually slept fairly well; only waking up a few times to have Alcina soothe you back to sleep. Being tucked away in her embrace did a world of help, but you still woke up hours before Alcina did. Her eyes fluttered open and focus on your groggy face. She frowns.

"Did you sleep at all?"

You smile and kiss her lips. "Yes, I actually slept a lot better last night than before."

"Good," she pulls you back to kiss you again.

*******************************************************************************************

Later in the afternoon Bela and Cassandra invited (dragged you really) into the Drawing Room to play a game of cards.

Everything was going really well. You were laughing and playing with the girls like everything was as it should be in Castle Dimitrescu.

You were made astutely aware of the situation outside again when a loud crack of thunder shook the castle. There was another flash and clap of thunder, this time loud enough to make Cassandra flinch.

You abruptly shot up from the table. “Sorry. I need a minute.” You rushed down the hall into one of the guest rooms. Cassandra and Bela shared a confused glance and watched as you hurried away. They’d never seen you so flighty and nervous before. Neither could tell what was wrong.

They laid on the carpet and silently counted to sixty before following you to down the corridor.

“Y/n?” Bela softly knocked on the door. “It’s been a minute.”

There was no response. More thunder. Bela frowned. “We’re coming in, okay?”

She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/n?” Cassandra called, stepping further inside and glancing around the room. The sisters checked under the bed, then under the covers, even under the shade of the bedside lamp. Then Bela peered out of the rain-soaked window for good measure. Where else could you be?

Just as Cassandra decided she was stumped, she heard a rustling from behind her and a muffled, “I’m in here.” She turned around in confusion because the only place they hadn’t checked in that direction was…

They crept over to the closet and carefully slid open the door. The girls smiled when they found you sitting on the ground, curled up with your head between your knees. “Playing hide and seek now, are we?” Bela said. “Next round I call being the— um, y/n?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, staying right where you were. “Sorry.”

“S-Sorry for what…?” Cassandra crouched down beside you. The closet almost had enough space for the three of you to fit.

“Y/n, please. Something’s obviously bothering you, can’t you tell us?”

All three of you startled as another flash of lightning cut into the room, followed by another growl of thunder. You tightened your grip around your legs. Bela’s jaw dropped.

“It’s the storm,” she said, half a question, half a statement. “You’re scared of thunder?”

“It’s childish.”

“Oh, y/n…”

“I’m weak. Something as dumb and simple as loud noises shouldn’t make me so—”

“Y/n. Look at me.” Cassandra’s gently stern tone convinced you to move your head so your chin rested on your knees. You side-eyed the girls, trying to imitate your usual stoicism. It was difficult with red-rimmed eyes.

“A phobia doesn’t make you childish, or weak— do you know how many people have a fear of thunder, y/n? A lot of humans.”

“A lot of Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans as well,” Bela chimed in.

“And are you going to go around insulting them? No, Y/n, because that’s not nice. So don’t insult yourself for the same thing.” Cassandra waved around her index finger as she spoke. Your eyes widened and followed the movement. Both girls laughed.

“Is that what’s been giving you nightmares?”

You shake your head. “I just haven’t been sleeping; too tense.”

Cassandra giggled. “Just ask mother for extra cuddles, not like she’ll say no.”

“Or a more intimate distraction,” Bela winked.

Both sisters giggle at the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Can we sit here with you?” Bela asked, already taking the vacant spot on your right.

You shrugged— as much as you could in this balled-up position. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s ok y/n, we don’t mind.”

They sat on either side of you, Bela holding your hand, enjoying the comfortable silence that cast over you.

*******************************************************************************************

A loud crack of thunder jolted Alcina awake. Cursing to herself she eyed the clock across the room–2:06 am. Raking a hand down her face, she jolted again when another crack of thunder echoed through the castle. It wasn’t a minute later that an insistent downpour of rain started pelting the roof and windows followed by an angry howling of the wind. You stirred next to her in the bed. You were mumbling in what sounded like a mix of Romanian and English. Alcina swallowed thickly because she knew what that meant; another night terror. She laid back down and curled herself against you, cocooning herself against your back. Alcina placed a few stray kisses on your shoulders and the nape of your neck, smoothing her hands along your hipbone in the process. You calmed after a few minutes, your mumbling returning to the steadying breaths of deep sleep. Alcina sighed in relief and closed her eyes in hopes that she could drift back to sleep.

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Alcina sat up on the bed and saw you still appeared to be sleeping, though you looked somewhat agitated. She reached over and attempted to run her fingers through your hair but all that succeeded in doing was causing you to jolt awake.

You woke up with a strangled yell and starting crawling out from underneath the sheets. You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing and heart rate rapid. Alcina crawled over and realized you were having a panic attack. “Y/n, can you hear me?” You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as tears started leaking from the corners. You clamped a hand over your mouth, and Alcina realized you were trying to silence your breathing. “Honey no, don’t do that, just focus on me,” she pulled your hand away from your mouth slowly. You shook your head and tried to take your hand back. “No no no... I can’t- I-I-I can’t wake Al-Alcina,” you gasped. “It’s alright, Dove, just follow my breathing.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths to demonstrate. You started calming down slightly. “That’s it, everything is alright, just keep breathing.” You seemed to calm down more with the breathing exercises. “I’m going to get you a glass of water“ Alcina started to say, but was cut off by you grabbing her arm. “No! Don’t-don’t lea- don’t leave, please, don’t- don’t” you closed her eyes, her breath quickening again. “Sweetheart, breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Alcina took your hand and put it on her chest. “Breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Your breathing returned to normal. After sitting in silence for a bit, Alcina turned to her.

“Another night terror?” She asked. You looked away for a minute, ashamed of yourself.

“No.”

God, you probably woke her up, good job.

Alcina couldn’t keep an amused smile from forming. “Can my little dove not sleep because of the thunderstorm?”

As if on cue, a blinding bolt of lightning crackled down from the sky. The following rumble of thunder seemed to shake the castle. You let out a whimper and shielded yourself from the sky. “How could I possibly sleep when it sounds like the sky is falling?!”

Alcina hums and pulls you close against her. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy fear, Dove. It brings out the human in you.”

“UGH! Just-!”

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Another shriek, barely muffled by Alcina’s shoulder, had you violently trembling. You were barely holding yourself together.

Wracked with terror, eyes shut tightly, you found yourself unable to prevent the reflexive compulsion to cling to something nearby.

Which, in this case, was Alcina, who was left staring in shocked silence at the violently trembling form with arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She immediately wrapped her arms around you again and began rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Calm down. You’re fine,” She spoke softly, ignoring the buzz under her skin as she soaked in the unwitting embrace like a dry sponge in water. Soothingly, she rubbed up to your shoulder blades. “There we are, my love,” Alcina chuckled. “I’ve got you. Listen to my voice,” She rumbled, speaking soft but firm as the thunder forced smaller tremors through the floor. “You’re going to relax. I’m going to help you. Just lay here with me and close your eyes. I’ll hold you all night if you want me to.”

Gradually, the sound faded and petered off back into the loud patter of rain against the windows but Alcina held you tightly still. She could feel the flutter of your heartbeat against her own, almost impressed that you hadn’t passed out from fear alone.

“Why didn’t you say anything? The storm’s been going on for days now you must have been petrified.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” you mumbled into her neck. “It’s a pathetic fear I’ve had since I was a kid. I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“You think something as trivial as a phobia would make me think less of you?” She pulled you even tighter against her. You melted into her embrace. “Clearly I haven’t been a very good partner to you.”

“No Al, it’s not like that. Gods, you’re an amazing partner. It’s just my stupid insecurities. You’re all so fearless and brave. You’re not afraid of anything, and then there’s me; tiny, inferior, afraid of a little thunderstorm.”

She sighed and continued rubbing circles on your back. “I’m not fearless.”

“Yeah right,” you scoff. “What could the great and powerful Alcina Dimitrescu possibly be afraid of?”

“Death.”

You wriggled out of her arms just enough to turn and face her. “What? But, you’re immortal. Death isn’t really something you have to worry about.”

She gave a small smile and brought a hand to cup your face. “I never said my death, sweet one.”

Oh...OH

“The girls are clever, they can get themselves out of most situations unscathed, but still, we can be slain. And there have been some pretty close calls in the past. And you,” she rubbed gentle circles on your cheek. “Your death is inevitable. It gnaws at the back of my mind every time I look at you. Every time morning I have to untangle myself from your embrace I remember that one day I’ll wake up alone and wish I cuddled with you for just a bit longer."

"Al, I didn't-"

"I can't always be there to protect you, including the girls. If I could take the brunt of all conflict for you I would gladly do so, but that's unfortunately not how life works. I'm just left worrying until I know for sure you're all safe."

She hummed into your neck and kissed your pulse point. "How selfish of me, I'm supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around. If I paid more attention I would have known, I’m sorry, my love.”

“Don’t apologize, just hold me.”

Alcina kissed the top of your head. “With pleasure.”

Soon enough you did fall asleep again, your arms still clinging tight around the vampire’s upper midsection. Alcina found a comfortable enough position and allowed herself to drift away as well.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady Alcina #tall vampire lady #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

Text

Learn to Fly

CW: Self-loathing, some internalized victim-blaming, references to parental death and grief, VERY vague reference to past noncon once or twice

Note: I made a decision to switch a little of the timeline around, so Laken and Chris’s breakup at this point happens after the original conversations about the Speak Out Arc start happening but before the Olympics themselves. I’m folding this bit into the larger Speak Out Arc.

Follows Time Apart and It Doesn’t Work As Well As You’d Hoped

He curls up on the couch in the coffeeshop, sipping something warm he barely tastes. It might have coffee in it - he feels a little drowsy, and that usually happens when there’s just a little caffeine.

Maybe that’s just because he hasn’t slept since Jake was hurt, not really. And he’s slept even less since... since he and Laken broke up.

Outside, there's unseasonable heavy rain. The clouds are low and heavy, a deep gunmetal gray that blocks out the light and has the streetlights on at 9:30 in the morning. The raindrops seem less to fall than to slam into the ground with terrible violence.

The baristas talk in low voices about how grateful they are for the rain, burying the wildfires outside the city in a deluge the heat can’t overcome. Chris likes the rain, too, if only because it reflects the inside of him, suggests that the world can tell he is a storm within himself and reflects it to him.

He takes another sip.

He hasn’t showered in three days. His hair is dulled with it, like a penny left too long in the dirt. He’s dressed himself like he used to, back before when he was still learning he was a person and not a pet - in one of Jake’s hooded sweatshirts over his compression shirt, so oversized on him it’s nearly a tunic, and a pair of mesh basketball shorts. His knees still look knobby, he thinks.

He can see the ghosts of the bruises there that used to never quite heal before his Sir sent him to his knees and made new ones to lay over them. He can see a couple of scars, some from training when the baton would crack into the backs of his legs and send him dropping like a stone, some from gymnastics, some from just being a kid.

Chris’s eyes lower, to look at his own hands holding his coffee cup. He put star stickers on his nails last night, and a few of them have already peeled off. Those that remain glitter, just a little.

Something about the sight of it - the memory of when he put star stickers on Laken’s cheekbones at a concert until they sparkled under the starlight, laughing, a blur of bright eyes and dark hair - makes his throat nearly close, sends a new rush of tears to burn hot behind his eyes.

He has to close them to hold them back.

“You’ve had a hard time of late, have you, then?”

The voice is a rumble, cracked with decades of cigarettes and too much liquor, but Chris remembers it, anyway. At least, he remembers it now.

He turns to look up at the old man, in his shirt and slacks, a bit bent with age. There’s a merry twinkle in his slightly rheumy eyes, though, that shows that a young man is still there, under an old man’s experiences. There’s a slight smile on his face, warm and welcoming.

Chris swallows, struggling to find the words. They flit away from him, he has to chase them down, but eventually he manages to clear his throat and says, “I, I, um. I know you. You, you, you knew my dad.”

“I did, at that. Worked with him for years.” The old man settles onto the other end of the couch, giving Chris plenty of space, a nice wide berth for safety. “What’s got you looking like a television commercial for depression, hm, Tristan?”

No one calls him that.

Chris feels his heart twist, a little.

By the time they saw the meteor, Tris, it was already too late for anything but a blink or two. When it touched down into land, it was so big the end of it was still in space. Can you imagine anything so big? Can you?

No, Dad.

The earthquakes alone would have been immense thousands of miles away. Imagine, you’re eating leaves, living your life, and you see a shadow - and then in an instant, the world is shaking and you’re breathing glass. How does life go on after that?

I, I, I don’t know, um, um... how how does it?

It just does. That’s what’s amazing, Tris. It just goes on.

“Nothing. I, I, I broke up with my, my partner is all.”

“Hm, that nice young person who comes with you to the shops?” The old man nods, slowly. He’s got his own cup of coffee, plain black, steaming gently into the air-conditioning. Outside, the rain creates a curtain that walls them off from everything else. Chris can’t even see all the way across the street. He can barely see a woman with an umbrella racing from her car into the nail salon place off to the side.

“Yeah, them. I’m, um. It wasn’t anything they they they did.”

It’s something I did.

It’s something I am.

It’s something I’ll never stop being.

“Well, breakups do happen now and again. Usually the one who does the leaving isn’t the one who does the moping about and staring at rain, though.”

“I didn’t want to.” Chris sits back, keeping his coffee cup in one hand. The other drops to his stomach, to tap, soothing his nerves at being so close to a man he knows and doesn’t-know. His memories are there, fuzzy and hazy from being overwritten by fear and pain, but they’re there. He knows this man, Mr. Malley, who would watch him sometimes when his parents went out, or when his father needed to stop by work.

The memories are there, but they still hurt.

His head starts to throb, a pulsing pain behind his temples.

“I didn’t-... I, I love them, I d-didn’t want to.”

“Well, now, that’s a conundrum, isn’t it? Are you moving, then, Tristan?”

It hurts to hear his name, but it hurts in a way that feels good. He was that person, too, before he was Chris. He hums, low under his breath. “No. I, I, I just… you know, um, I’m just. I’m… hard. Difficult. To, to, to, to be with, to, um, to-... there’s a bunch wrong with-... with me.”

“You sound like your dad.” Mr. Malley laughs, a deep chuckle that rumbles more in his chest than out of his throat. “You know that? You sound just like him.”

Chris ignores the pain in his head and he turns, now, to look fully at Mr. Malley, blinking rapidly. “My, my, my dad?”

“Yep. Paul was a good man, and a good dad, but before he was that he was a scared boy with a baby on the way and a plan that might not work.” Mr. Malley sighs. “A scared boy who’d always had it a little rough, trying to make the world work for him when it did nothing but work against him. You were always his spitting image. He’d probably be tickled to see you still are.”

There is a sense, in Chris’s mind, of a blurry man with short red hair, sitting near him but not quite touching him, speaking with animation about how there are dinosaurs that lived closer to human beings than they did to other dinosaurs.

He remembers a man whose eyes sparkled with animated focus when he talked about the world millions of years ago, who loved him by sharing the information he held within his own mind.

He and his dad had understood each other, in ways that no one else did but his mother, and Chris was beginning to see that it had been her determination to know him that had fueled his mother’s actions, her endless support. The same way Jake and Nat were determined, and stubborn, and kept trying even when they got it wrong.

Everyone gets it wrong sometimes, but that doesn’t… that doesn’t mean they aren’t trying.

Maybe he got it wrong.

“He never broke up with your mom, but oh, he thought about it. You know, when he came to work with us, he had a plan. But plans… they have a way of going off the road and into a ditch. He worried he couldn’t make it work, he worried that it would be too hard for Ronnie to be with him and have a child, too.”

Ronnie.

Chris’s throat closes up, and he closes his eyes.

All right, Tris, I got you these so the noise won’t bother you so much. We’re going to have a good day at the parade, okay?

“Her family never liked him, for one. That’s a rough spot to be in, I think.” Mr. Malley is quiet for a moment, sipping his coffee and watching the rain fall. “Ronnie didn’t see it that way, of course. That woman was a freight train and God help anyone who got in the way. My late wife, God rest her soul, helped Ronnie with some things when her own family wouldn’t. She’d come over big as a house, eyes sparkling. You were a kicker, she used to say, kept her up all hours of the night. Just a girl, still, your mom, but she had a steel spine and she wasn’t going to live any life but the one she wanted. But your dad… he worried, that it would be too hard on her.”

“Having, um, having me would?”

“No. Having him. Paul was a smart man, you know. He knew his job would be trouble. He gave her chance after chance to go, if she wanted. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? She didn’t.”

Chris looks at his phone, lying on the little table in front of the couch. There’s some text messages he hasn’t looked at. Couple of voicemails he hasn’t listened to.

“Maybe he, he, he didn’t want to keep hurting her,” Chris whispers.

“Hurt’s a part of living, lad, take it from someone who’s given out his fair share of it and more.” Mr. Malley hums. Outside, a car pulls up, almost bumping the curb. “Perhaps you’re meant to separate from your young partner, Tristan, perhaps not. It’s like I told your dad, way back in the Stone Age. You choose if you love someone, to be sure, but they choose if they love you back. You can’t decide that for them.”

“But, but I’m-... but, but I’ve been… what I am, it’s-”

“I know what you’ve been made to do,” Mr. Malley says gently. “You don’t have to explain, lad. We knew.”

Chris’s lips tremble. He doesn’t want his coffee any longer. He sets it down next to his phone, on the little table. The baristas talk quietly about a date that one went on the night before, there’s a low sound of machinery. It all filters into Chris’s mind, a cacophony of sound he picks apart or doesn’t. Right now it’s hard for him to think around all the sound, but he tries. “Then, then, then why… if you knew, um, why… didn’t you-”

He can’t finish the question.

Why didn’t you save me from it?

“We couldn’t. It’s shite, is what it is, but we couldn’t. And by the time we could, you were with that nice young man who you live with now. I’m sorry for the time you lost, Tristan, and sorrier still I can’t give it back to you somehow. You’re your dad’s child through and through, but you’ve got your mother in you, too. You know what Ronnie did when there was something she couldn’t get through?”

Chris turns to look at this man, who knew his mother and father in ways he never could have. He swallows. “What?”

“She went over it. Or around it. Or blew it to smithereens and went through the wreckage. Whatever it took. They tried to kick you out of school when you were a wean, she fought them ‘til they realized they’d never win against her. They tried to tell her you wouldn’t read, she told them to go, well, to go sit on a thing or two and not to tell her what her boy could or couldn’t do.”

Chris thinks of Nat sitting next to him on the floor, patiently encouraging him to keep trying to turn the letters into words, despite his headaches, his tears, his certainty he’d never get reading back.

You will, Chris. I know you will. Just keep fighting for it. They won’t take anything from you forever, I won’t let them and you won’t let them either.

Don’t let them keep you from yourself.

“They told her she’d never have a happy life, having a wee one so young, but she built that happy life anyway with her own two hands and dared anyone to try and knock it down.”

“Someone… some, someone did, though.” The gunshots, his mother’s eyes going dull and blank, her whispered I love you so much, Tris…

“Sure. Yes.” Mr. Malley’s expression goes serious, and sad. “But it took breaking into her house at midnight and bullets to stop her. You’ve got plenty of your mom in you, lad. Plenty of your dad, too, he was always a stubborn git himself. Do you love this person you’ve broken up with? Hm?”

“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation, even though his voice shakes and his heart races. “I, I, I do. That’s, that’s why I don’t want to-to keep hurting them by, by, by by being messed up from what, um, from what happened to me, I don’t… I don’t want to keep h-hurting them-”

“Let them decide how they feel about that,” Mr. Malley says, voice gentle and low. “Plenty of people are hurt and find their way forward together after.”

Jake and Kauri, laughing in the kitchen as Jake spins Kauri around in a circle, dips him backwards, presses a kiss to his nose that has him giggling.

Antoni at the stove, sighing but with a smile on his face, watching them. Being pulled into the hug not quite against his will, all three of them laughing then. Kauri bright and sparkling, Jake a deeper harmony, Antoni soft and genuine.

“Maybe it won’t last, maybe it will - but don’t let a hard past keep you from the people who love you. I’ve seen many ruined by believing you may only be loved if you’ve no pain inside you. We’ve all got pain, lad. Carrying it together’s a sight easier than trying to go it alone.”

From the car parked right outside, an elderly man unfolds himself, opening an umbrella to shield from the driving rain. Mr. Malley looks up and smiles. “Ah, right on time, must be ten sharp. That’ll be Cilly. D’you remember Cilly, lad?”

Chris looks as the man shuffles his way inside, pushing open the door. The little bell over the top jingles and the baristas cut off their conversation, standing up straight to call out a familiar greeting to a regular customer.

He squints.

“Not… not very well,” He confesses, a little ashamed.

“Ah, well, that’s not a problem. He and I’ve known each other a long time. I was an angry man for a while after my wife died, you know. Seemed a crime that I should outlive her, when Christa deserved to live to a hundred and six if she so wished. Cilly helped me carry that anger when I needed to be angry, and he helped me put it down later on.”

He gives a wave to the man - to Cilly - who looks at Chris and then back to Mr. Malley with clear surprise, then heads towards the counter to make his own order.

“Be angry, Tristan,” Mr. Malley says, a little heavily, leaning over to him on the leg as he pushes himself, with a grunt of effort to his feet. “You may need your anger, in the days ahead. But if you’ve a love to help you carry it, who wants to help you carry it and who will be angry right there with you, and you love them back… well… don’t let the wickedness of others keep you from the happiness you could have. You’ll be a poorer person for it.”

Mr. Malley walks away without another word, leaving Chris by himself again on the couch, tapping at his stomach, thinking. He keeps looking at his phone, thinking about all the texts he hasn’t read, the way he’s refused to call them back when Laken kept trying to reach him.

He leans over to reach out.

He stops, hand hovering just above the plastic with its colorful case, the sensory sticker on the back of it that Laken had bought him.

What happened after all the dinosaurs died, Tristan?

I, I, I don’t know, Dad.

Trick question, buddy. They didn’t. Paul’s eyes, bright and vibrant, gesturing to a bird in a tree nearby. Nothing stays the same and lives forever except alligators and sharks.

Right because, because they’re perfect.

Exactly. Dinosaurs died, sure, but they didn’t die, too. They just changed to suit the world after the one they knew how to live in was gone. Imagine, Tris.

Imagine what?

Imagine the world destroyed and in darkness, buried in ash. Everything you know is gone, ruined, wrecked beyond repair. And imagine… imagine that you learn to eat seeds and little mice instead of big animals and leaves. Imagine you become smaller and smaller. Imagine that your arms turn to wings, that your bones hollow out to carry you higher above the piles of ash that turn to grass and to life again.

What? I, I, I don’t, um, I don’t understand-... Dad, um, I don’t, I don’t... know what you mean.

Right, sorry. Just... imagine you’re a dinosaur.

He’d laughed. Okay.

Now imagine your dinosaur family is gone, and you have to become something else. What do you become? Being a dinosaur means dying, right?

Um. Right.

So imagine that you look at death and say, no thanks. No, you’re not going to be over. This isn’t it for you. Even a meteor the size of the entire sky can’t end you. Instead of dying out, no, you look at history, at geological time, and you say…

Paul had trailed off.

Say what? What, what do I say?

Don’t tell your mom but-... you look at the end of the world and you say... fuck this, I’m going to learn to fly.

Chris picks up his phone, finds Laken’s name and photo in his contacts. It’s a photo of the two of them together, Chris and Laken smiling and laughing as he smears whipped cream on their nose and they smear a cross of fluffy white into his forehead.

He dials.

They pick up on the third ring.

“Chris? Oh my God, Chris, are you okay? Are you-... are you okay, baby?” Their voice shakes, and he closes his eyes.

This time, he lets the tears slip out and run down his face. “H-Hey, Laken, um, I, I, I-... I’m… I wondered if you, um, if you could, uh… are you busy?”

“Am I-... Chris, where are you?”

“The, um, the coffeeshop-”

“I’m on my way. Don’t you dare fucking move.”

At their usual table, at their usual time, Cilly and Sean Malley start to talk amicably about the week ahead. But he keeps an eye on Paul’s boy, where he speaks a few sentences and then hangs up the phone, looking out the window at the rain.

It’s twenty minutes before a new car pulls up outside, and umbrella-less, the partner Sean has seen with Tristan before comes racing inside, a blur of black clothes and black hair and brown skin. Paul’s boy stands, and his partner throws themself at him so hard the two of them fall backwards onto the couch.

They start laughing, and shortly after to cry.

Their hands come up to either side of Tristan’s face, and they lean forward to kiss the scar on his forehead. He can’t hear what they say to each other, but he doesn’t need to.

Ronnie, he thinks, would like this spitfire person that Paul’s boy is so in love with.

That’s one wrong put right, at least for the moment.

One more to go.

Sean smiles and sips his cooling coffee.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

Just Go On from Kimmy Schmidt

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haus-seeblick · 3 years ago

Text

Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

Title: Backroad Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,119

Tags: First Kiss, Dean Winchester and Castiel are Alone in the Dark, Mild Angst With a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Making out in the Impala

On AO3 Here

“You’re shittin’ me, Sammy.” Dean groans and smacks the steering wheel with his palm. “There’s no room in the whole place?”

Sam’s voice floats into the Impala, high and tinny over the burner phone’s speakers. “No vacancy, Dean, I’m sorry, I checked with them three times--”

“--Nah, nah, it’s cool, we believe you,” Dean interrupts, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear so he can rub his face while steering around a bend. Cas reaches over and deftly slips the phone away, fingers pinched like he’s removing a block from a Jenga tower.

“Did you and Eileen find accommodations?” Cas asks, holding the phone out in front of him so Dean can listen in.

There’s a short pause, then: “Yeah… yeah, we did, but guys, the room is really small, like, a closet, I swear, and there’s only one bed, and--”

This time it’s Cas who interrupts. “--and you wish to engage in private romantic activities. Dean and I completely understand.”

They’re on a straight stretch of highway, but Dean still manages to swerve clumsily into the shoulder. He hastily course-corrects and bites down the urge to snap at Cas for-- for what? For talking like that? For using his deep, rough voice to say any words even vaguely related to--

No. It’s not Cas’ fault that everything he does steadily turns Dean into more and more of a creep. Dean shakes his head firmly and tunes back in to the conversation just in time to catch Sam awkwardly stumbling over his reply. Dean leans over, cutting him off with a whistle into the phone.

“We’ll be fine, little brother. Be a gentleman. Don’t hog the sheets. Girl like Eileen doesn’t come around every day.”

He can feel the bitchface radiating through the speaker and motions at Cas to hang up. Cas frowns and gravely says “Dean would like to end the conversation. Goodbye, Sam,” before flipping the phone shut. He drops it into the cupholder.

Dean makes a show of focusing on the road to avoid looking at Cas. He knows Cas is staring at him; it’s just something the guy does, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing at Dean as if the whole world isn’t flashing by outside.

Dean’s long stopped commenting on it. Let the dude stare.

He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to find a logging road or something. Pull in and hole up for the night.”

“All right,” Cas replies. He opens the glovebox and pulls out the local map they picked up this afternoon when they rolled into Matlock, Washington, to investigate a haunted post office. It was a gray, dinky, bleak town and the poor ghost lurking around the mailroom seemed more melancholy than anything. She allowed them to dispatch her into the afterlife with very little struggle; that is, after some creative sweet-talking by Sam.

Eileen had teased Sam mercilessly about it before Dean had even gotten a chance. That’s how Dean knows she’s The One.

There was, of course, no motel in town. Sam and Eileen hit the road before Dean and Cas, because Dean insisted on getting a burger for dinner at the tiny diner on Main Street (a mistake). Now he’s staring down the barrel of a night alone with Cas, in cramped quarters, on a dark backroad. If they hadn’t already driven all day to get to Matlock, Dean would push on until they found a motel with vacancies, but he’s exhausted and Cas is just human enough these days to actually be tired too.

“There’s an access road nearby,” Cas says, tracing the map with his index finger. “In a quarter mile. Left.”

Dean follows his directions and sure enough, there’s a bumpy logging road branching off from the highway, stretching deep into the pitch-black trees. Dean pulls in about five hundred feet before turning off the lights and the ignition.

It’s silent. The darkness is all-encompassing, pressing in on Dean, so heavy it’s like he can feel it on his eyelids when he blinks. He takes a slightly shaky breath. Cas is utterly still, as usual, not a single rustle or exhale indicating his presence in the gloom, but Dean feels him there as intensely as he’d feel a roaring bonfire. His heart thuds in his ears.

Why is he freaking out? He’s slept in the car with Sam a million times. But even as he thinks that, he knows, he knows, that this is different. His brain starts whirling through logistics -- who’s gonna take the back seat? Is Cas even gonna sleep the whole night? Or will he wake up and just sit there, staring at Dean for hours, inches away?

Dean needs to shut off his brain. He taps the seat and says “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” comes the immediate response, measured and reassuring. “Would you like to talk?”

Relaxing against the seat and slinging an arm over the backrest, Dean peers over to the passenger side. “Sure.”

The moon’s out tonight, far above the trees, and the grayscale of nighttime slowly bleeds into view as Dean’s eyes adjust. He can just make out the sharp angle of Cas’ nose, the slope of his chest and the outline of his hands folded in his lap. He’s always so upright, so proper. Dean wonders what it would feel like to undo him.

“Are Sam and Eileen having sex?”

Dean chokes on air. Sputtering, he braces himself on the seat and coughs until his eyes stop watering. “What?” he wheezes. “Why-- Dude, why would you ask that?”

He sees Cas turn his head to regard him. Even in the dark, Dean can imagine the piercing gaze.

“It was unclear to me what you meant by ‘be a gentleman.’” Cas lifts his hands to shape the finger quotes. “I assumed the two of them would take advantage of their privacy to engage in physical intimacy. Was your comment meant to discourage Sam from having sex?”

Dean throws up his hands desperately. “Okay-- okay, first of all, quit talking about my brother doing it. And second, no, I wasn’t ‘discouraging’ him, just reminding him to treat Eileen like a lady. You know, romance her a little.”

The darkness is a godsend as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter with every word. He’s surprised they’re not glowing. He taps the seat in a random pattern as Cas sits quietly, seemingly digesting the information.

When he responds, it’s slow and thoughtful. “In the pornography I’ve watched, the participants always begin undressing one another rather quickly. And in my own experiences, there has been very little that I would label ‘romantic.’ What is classified as ‘romance,’ Dean?”

Well, shit. The last of Dean’s composure evaporates, sizzles away like a drop of water meeting his burning face. He drops his head into his hands and groans.

Cas leans forward, his knee brushing Dean’s. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

Dean’s throat is tight, his fingers sweaty against his forehead. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to at least open his eyes against the shadow of his palms. “Uh-- no. No, Cas. You, uh-- you should be able to ask that kinda stuff. Human stuff. I get that it’s, uh-- it’s important to know. For, y’know. So you can--”

There’s a hand on his knee. A warm, strong hand. Long fingers. Weighty. Dean’s heart kicks into overdrive. He slowly, very slowly, lowers his hands to peek at Cas.

“How do you like to be romanced, Dean?”

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing in Dean’s brain. It’s a chamber of silence. A void. He stares at the outline of Cas’ wild hair, mouth slightly open.

“...Dean?” The hand on his knee shifts slightly and Dean’s blank brain runs zero interference as his own hand darts out and stills the one threatening to leave his leg. As soon as his skin makes contact with Cas’, though, everything zings back online in a rushing roar.

Play it off, Winchester. Crack a joke. C’mon. “Hah, funny, buddy, you really got me there--”

“--Kissing’s nice.”

He snaps his mouth shut too late. The words float away, unrecoverable.

Cas tilts his head. Then, slowly, very slowly, as if he’s afraid of spooking Dean, he turns his hand around under Dean’s so that they’re palm to palm. An invitation.

With a pounding heart, Dean accepts it. He laces their fingers together. His palm feels even sweatier when it’s rubbing up against Cas’ dry, smooth skin.

Sexy, Dean. Way to go.

Somehow, even though it was Cas asking the questions, he’s the one leading now, shifting closer, laying his left arm along the backrest behind Dean’s shoulders. Their faces are so close that they’re sharing air, just two shadows suspended in a frozen moment.

“May I kiss you?” Cas murmurs gently, his breath washing over Dean’s lips. It smells like rain-refreshed air, like a promise of sunshine, alleviating the weight of the darkness. Dean tentatively chases it with his tongue, wetting his lips and leaving them parted.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. Because fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long.

And Cas wants it, too.

Dean always imagined that his first kiss with Cas would be an inferno, fireworks, showering sparks, all those cliches. That it would yank him from his body and send him floating through the ether.

It’s not like any of that. It’s better. It’s real.

Cas’ lips are just lips -- a little more chapped than Dean’s used to, perhaps, but they meet his in a familiar brush, followed by the typical tentative press, leading into a hesitant swipe of the tongue.

He’s kissing Cas. Cas, who he’s built up in his head for so long as this untouchable, impossible ideal, who stormed Hell to drag him out, who smote demons with his bare hands, who is so inconceivably old that Dean should be just a speck of sand under his eternal gaze.

Instead, that same Cas is busy dragging his fingers down the side of Dean’s neck. A crest of goosebumps follow, shivers trailing down Dean’s torso, and he gasps a quivery breath against Cas’ lips. He’s not used to being led. Normally he’s the one in charge, giving as good as he gets, focused on hitting the highlights, satisfying his partner. There’s a whole formula.

He’s never trembled like this before.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth, reverent, his voice somehow gravelly even as a breath. He suddenly pulls his hand free from Dean’s and grips his bicep, dropping his other arm from the backrest to wrap around Dean’s waist. Without preamble, he twists, tugging Dean across his lap. Dean yelps and hurriedly adjusts his legs, ending up with his knees on the seat, straddling Cas’ thighs. His fingers and toes are zinging in excitement.

Goddamn. Who knew being manhandled would do it for him?

The crown of his head presses against the roof of the car and he slouches forward until their foreheads are touching. He pushes his hands into Cas’ hair.

Cas surges forward again, nudging Dean’s head to the side and pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. Dean groans, low and shaky, as Cas parts his lips and sucks a trail up to Dean’s earlobe, his tongue soothing in the wake of his mouth, dragging over every mark that he coaxes to the surface. Dean knows his neck will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he finds he can’t bring himself to care, not when Cas’ teeth are busy grazing the shell of his ear.

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, dropping his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. He's hard already, hips twitching a little, but he keeps his hands firmly in Cas’ hair, tugging the soft, thick strands, guiding Cas’ mouth back down to his neck. His pulse hammers under each press of chapped lips.

He pulls back and captures Cas’ mouth again, sliding his tongue into that wet heat. They trade open-mouthed kisses, a bit sloppy, while Cas’ hands glide up Dean’s back under his flannel. Dean’s absolutely flying, his pounding heart easily winning the battle against the tiny voice in his head dredging up reasons to stop, reasons to run.

He wants to stay .

Their kisses have escalated to a panting, frenzied give-and-take, and Dean’s tired of hunching over. He drops his hands onto Cas’ shoulders and starts leaning back over to the driver’s seat, trying to pull Cas on top of him. Cas whines when their lips separate, but he catches on quickly. A little too quickly. He grips Dean’s waist and shifts him along the bench seat with such force that Dean’s arm goes flying and his elbow smacks right into the middle of the steering wheel.

The horn blares, rending the night.

Both Dean and Cas jerk upright, instantly on high alert. Reality takes a moment to catch up with them.

Cas recovers first. “That startled me,” he says, voice wrecked.

Dean lets out a long breath. He’s still got one leg up on the seat, the other one cramped awkwardly next to the steering wheel. He drags a hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt and his eyes water.

He’s just so goddamn happy.

Cas watches him, head tilted in the shadows. Dean lets his laughter run its course, petering out with a sigh of mirth and hand slapped on Cas’ knee.

“What a night, huh?” he says.

Cas lifts a hand and strokes Dean’s cheek with his knuckles. Even after all that making out, this one gesture seems inordinately intimate. But Dean just smiles.

Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone one more time before slowly, almost reluctantly, letting his hand fall. “You need to sleep.”

Dean nods and glances into the backseat. “You do too, don’t you? At least a bit? Maybe we can both fit back there.”

They get out of the car -- the cool night air rushes into Dean’s lungs and fizzes through his chest, bringing the events of the past half hour into blood-rich focus in his brain. He steels himself for the freakout, for the doubt and the deflection, but it doesn’t come. He feels right.

They crawl into the backseat, awkwardly shuffling and shifting, ending up with Cas sitting mostly upright (insisting that he’s fine) and Dean laid out on the seat with his head in Cas’ lap.

He drops off to sleep faster than he has a long time, Cas’ long fingers carding through his hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the light that wakes him, pale gray seeping under his lashes and rousing him from a blissfully dreamless sleep. He lifts his head and immediately winces -- his neck is stiff as a board and his back aches all the way down to his tailbone. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in the car.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean twists around and peers blearily up at Cas, who’s gazing down at him with one of his rare enigmatic smiles. Dean yawns and stretches as best he can, his back popping. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting next to Cas.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas leans over and, before Dean can react, presses a warm, dry kiss to Dean’s cheek.

Sore body or not, this is the best morning of Dean’s life.

They extract themselves from the backseat and stumble into the damp early-morning air. Dean pops the collar of his flannel after a single glance into the side mirror. He’s got a lot of hickies.

They take a second to stretch (Dean admires the way Cas’ pecs shift under his dress shirt as he reaches for the sky) before sliding into the front seat. Dean backs them out of the logging road, the verdant green pines on either side nearly overwhelming his night-accustomed eyes.

Cas calls Sam as they roar down the highway again. It’s only 5 a.m., but Dean handed Cas the phone and told him to give Sam a wakeup call. The kid deserves it after a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

They pull into the parking lot of the Cedar Crest Motel just past 5:30. Dean ends up having to park on the street, though, because the lot’s at capacity, not a single spot unoccupied. He pats Baby in apology as he leaves her, and he and Cas make their way to the room number that a very irritated, cranky Sam snapped at them over the phone.

They’ve almost reached it when Dean suddenly stops dead. He grabs Cas’ arm. Cas shoots him a questioning glance.

“Look." Dean points up at the motel sign. There, huge red letters, blinking through the pale morning light, spell out a clear VACANCY.

“It’s hardly been six hours," Dean says. "No one would’ve checked out in the middle of the night.”

Suspicion rising rapidly, he strides to Sam’s door and knocks as obnoxiously as he can. As soon as the door creaks open, he reaches through and grabs Sam’s shirt, yanking him outside. Sam protests and slaps at Dean with one hand, shoving his bird’s nest hair out of his face with the other.

“What the hell, Dean!”

Dean just throws one arm up at the sign, staring at Sam with raised eyebrows. As soon as Sam sees what he’s pointing at, he shrinks into what Dean immediately recognizes as guilty little brother posture. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean and Sam, before holding out a placating hand. “I just-- I just thought, maybe you could use some time alone,” he explains hastily, backing up a bit into the room. “If we all ended up here, Dean, you’d insist that we share, you know you would.”

Dean knows Sam’s right (he’s careful with their fake money, so sue him), but he keeps glaring regardless.

“I just wanted some time with Eileen,” Sam mumbles, deflating a bit. “And I thought, y’know, with how you and Cas have been acting lately, that you’d-- uh, that you’d want some time together, too.”

Dean sputters. “Acting? We-- what--”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas says, deep voice cutting off Dean’s protests. “We had a very pleasant night.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he straightens up, a knowing grin stretching over his face. His eyes dart to Dean’s popped collar. “Oh yeah? Did you now?”

Dean shoves him into the room and slams the door shut. There. He turns to Cas, who looks amused.

“Give me at least a couple days before blabbing to my brother,” Dean says, but he finds himself smiling. Cas nods. He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, just for a moment, squeezing before letting it fall again.

“Of course, Dean.”

#suptober21 #no vacancy #gotta love some cramped car kissing #scheming sam strikes again #destiel fanfic

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

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Only For You

A/N: My first full Ron fic and my 93rd fic for Harry Potter! I’ve written a drabble before this but I really wanted to write something for Ron! So here it is! It is a load of fluff and cuteness and I hope you all like it!

Summary: introductions and discussions.

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some swearing but it’s so fluffy!!

Word count: 1.8k

“Love, I’ve met your family before.”

“You have, but you mean something more to me now.”

“Ronald, you are a sap.”

“Only for you.”

“Come on,” You chuckle, elbowing his side gently, “Let’s go meet your family.”

“Let’s go meet my family,” He sighs, ready as he’ll ever be.

Ron takes your hand in his, tangling your fingers together. A shock runs through you; thrilling you. You look down at your joined hands in awe; it feels silly, but you never thought your feelings for the red-haired man would ever be reciprocated.

For months, you pined from a distance – memorising the way he brushed his hair out of his eyes when he was reading a case file intently; heart racing whenever he gave you that lopsided smile or how it thudded wildly against your ribs when he gathered you into his arms after making a particularly strong break in a case that was threatening to go cold.

All the while he was affecting you this way; you had no idea that he was harbouring the same feelings.

The friendship that had formed in your time at the Auror office had turned into something more. You started going out for drinks more after work; destressing was your excuse but really, you wanted to spend as much time as you could with the Weasley before he departed for home.

It changed one night when instead of apparating home to the Burrow, he asked if it was okay if he stay on your couch.

The air between you changed after his question; becoming charged with the feelings you so helplessly felt for the man in front of you.

Ron never slept on the couch that night. He had kissed you outside the door of your flat and from the moment you unlocked the door, clothes were being pulled off and thrown over furniture. Ron ends the night sleeping in your bed with your head on his chest.

Six months later, Ron wants to introduce you to his family as his partner.

The Burrow has always had a warm and welcoming atmosphere. The moment Molly Weasley chose the Burrow to be her family home, her only aim was to make her home a place where anyone could feel welcome and safe.

Seven children later; this was still her main aim.

Molly beams as her youngest son walks through the door. She didn’t say it often enough, but she was so incredibly proud of him and what he has achieved at such a young age. She never expected any of her children to experience the terror and anxiety that she had experienced with the first wizarding war, but all of her children had played a part in the second war. Ron even destroying Horcruxes himself.

It made her overly emotional to think about it.

“Darling,” She gushes, embracing her youngest son, “How are you?”

Love for his mother shines in his eyes as he replies, “I’m good, mum. I’m really good.”

Molly turns his face side to side, “I think you are.”

Molly smiles at Ron one more time before bundling you into a hug. Your arms wrap around her and she squeezes you tightly. “Thank you for coming,” she whispers.

“Thank you for having me,” You reply in earnest.

Molly steps away; adjusting her pinny so it sits straight once more. She fans out her hair, “Go on – everyone is in the living room though I’m sure you’ve guessed that from the volume.”

Ron laughs as he grabs your hand leading you to the living room where the rest of his family are sat talking.

Ginny rushes to meet you when you enter; kissing your cheek, “It’s been so long since we’ve seen you!”

You nod, casting a side glance at Ron, “I know, but I plan on being around more.”

Ginny grins, glancing between the two of you, “Did he get his act together then?”

You laugh, nodding. Ginny joins you, “I’m glad he did,” She hugs you again before wandering off to find Harry.

A familiar voice whispers in your ear, “What did my sister want?”

You smirk, turning to face Ron, “She’s happy you got your act together.”

“Of course she is,” he says with an eyeroll.

“What are you two whispering about?” Fred shouts from his place on the arm of the couch.

You open your mouth to answer but Ginny beats the both of you too it, “Ron finally got his shit together; they’re here to say they’re in a relationship.”

The twins holler at Ron, smirking through their words. Ron flushes a deep red; you grab his hand, squeezing tightly.

“He got his shit together six months ago if we’re going to be accurate about it,” You state; fingers now entwined with Ron’s.

“Six months? And you didn’t tell us?” George shouts dramatically; a hand on his heart.

You snort, “We were enjoying the time to ourselves, George.”

“I bet you were,” Fred joins with a laugh.

If possible, Ron becomes even redder.

“Heard from Charlie lately?” Ron asks to divert the attention from you.

Bill rolls his eyes at the poor attempt but answers, “He’s still in Romania if that’s what you’re asking, but they’re expanding the enclosure to fit more dragons. Charlie’s thrilled about it.”

Ron chuckles, thinking of his second eldest brother, “That sounds like Charlie.”

Bill nods, “He’d have been here if he could. He’s excited to meet you, (Y/N).”

“I’m looking forward to meeting him too.”

Ron is pulled away by the twins to discuss the legality of a prank they’re thinking of enacting on a neighbouring shop. Ron’s face pales as he listens to their plan and you wonder what the scale of the prank could be. You shake your head; leaving it to Ron to best corral his brother’s adventures and schemes.

You sit down in the only spare seat, next to Bill. He smiles at you politely. “How are you finding married life?” You ask with a smile.

Bill grins, sighing like a loved-up schoolboy, “It’s great. Fleur is incredible.”

“You both looked wonderful at the wedding,” You compliment.

Bill ducks his head, “Thank you.”

You both fall quiet then; eyes darting around the room, taking in the entire Weasley family. Ginny remains sat with Harry; heads close together as they speak about something only those two are aware of. Percy and Arthur continue their debate about a new decree being brought in by the Ministry; it makes you smile as you realise how similar yet how different father and son are.

Bill leans in close, “Ron won’t take his eyes off you.”

You sit up straighter; eyes finding Ron’s from across the room to find that Bill was right. Ron was staring straight at you with an awed look on his face. He knew how well you got on with his family; had met them when you became friends through the Auror Office but now seeing you interact with his siblings as his partner, it made it all the more extraordinary.

You smile shyly at the red-haired man who had stolen your heart within the few first weeks of meeting. Your heart stutters as Ron sends a wink your way and you have to resist the urge to giggle.

Bill snorts under his breath, “School children, I tell you.”

You glare playfully at the eldest Weasley sibling, “I’m sorry who was it that was just gushing about his wife.”

Bill opens his mouth to retort but wisely closes it again. “I thought so,” You quip with a smirk.

Ron makes his way back to you; perching on the couch arm, “Bill not annoying you, is he?”

You chuckle, “Never.”

Ron goes to reply but is interrupted by Molly entering the living room announcing that food is on the table should anyone want any. You rise from the couch, pecking Ron’s lips before leaving for food.

-----------

You apparate back to your flat late in the evening; your hand still tangled with Ron’s. He lets you go when you land back into your living room. His hands come up to frame your face, kissing you soundly for what feels like hours but is only minutes. You smile into the kiss; happy for it to be just the two of you again. You loved his family – adored them even, but you liked to end the night with Ron alone.

Ron parts with another quick kiss to your lips that has you chasing him for another. No-one affected you quite like he did, and he revelled in that fact.

Ron discards his jacket, toes off his shoes, and walks the few steps to your bedroom and throws himself on the bed with a sigh.

You laugh as you lay down next to him, commenting, “I don’t think that went badly.”

Ron shakes his head, “I don’t think it did either.”

“So what’s with the sigh, Weasley?”

“I think mum is going to be buying more bridal magazines.”

“What?” You ask, mouth dry.

Ron sits up, “Not like that! We aren’t ready for that yet! Mum thinks she can see into the future, and she really did adore you tonight. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was already searching for the gazebo to put in the back garden.”

“Yet?”

“What?”

“You said, ‘we aren’t ready for that yet’. Are you going to make me honest, Weasley?” You ask, a teasing note to your voice.

“It’s only been six months,” He laughs awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, Ronald. I’m not asking for a ring; I’m just taking the mick.”

Ron relaxes slightly, “I just didn’t want you to think I was planning for something when we’ve only been together six months. We don’t even live together.”

You bend down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Calm yourself. I don’t expect anything right now.”

“But you do eventually?”

You shrug, “I’m not sure. I’m just happy to be with you right now.”

He tucks his hands behind his head, “I’m happy to be with you too.”

“My parents were together for shorter than that before they got engaged,” You comment in a matter of fact tone.

Ron raises an eyebrow, “I never knew that.”

You shrug, “It’s why I’m a hopeless romantic, I think, Ronald. I’ve seen their love grow and wouldn’t mind some of my own.”

Ron lays down on his stomach, resting his head on his arms, “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head, “I saw your mum and dad interacting tonight too, Ron. If we’re as happy as them and my parents in the years to come then I think we’ve done something right.”

“In the years to come, aye?”

You roll onto your side, “What? You can talk about our future, but I can’t?”

Ron shifts so he faces you, “No, talk about it all you want but don’t be put off by my smile.”

You groan, “You’re an absolute sap, Ronald Weasley.”

Ron’s arm circles around your waist, pulling you closer to him, “Only for you.”

*******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton

#ron weasley x reader #ron weasley #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley reader insert #ron x reader #ron weasley fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #hp imagines #ron weasley imagines #ron weasley one shot #ronald bilius weasley #ron weasley imagine

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marveldc-imagines-hub · 4 years ago

Text

Subtitles: Episode 4, We Interrupt This Program

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: [Y/N] is still recovering from one of the worst migraines they’ve ever had and they have the scars to prove it… Wait. Those scars weren’t there before and they certainly weren’t from passing out on the sidewalk a few days prior!

Word count: 9,361

Warnings: Mentions of (not super graphic) death and mental illness. Also Reader being just a little horny on main, but what’s new; almost 9.5k words and they’re simping for most of them. Lots of dorky fluff and also talking about insecurities.

Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend

~~~

In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, voices were conversing.

“[Y/N] [L/N]…” one started.

[Y/N] [L/N]. Age twenty-five. Born to Killian and Alice [L/N] in [city, state] but Dad wasn’t in the picture. No siblings, no living relatives. They wanted to go to school for botany but Mom was diagnosed with early-onset dementia while they were still in high school, so they changed their career path to neurology in hopes of finding a way to help her. She still lives in their hometown.

“Oh, wait,” another voice chimed in, almost indistinguishable from the first, “I know this one. Oh, God.”

[Y/N] was an Honors student, at the top of all their classes. A degree in neurology with phytotoxicology on the side. They took an internship in Europe one year and somehow found themselves in Sokovia. HYDRA was still laying low at the time, caught wind of them.

“Wait,” a third voice, this one easier to differentiate from the other two. “They’re HYDRA?”

The second voice responded, “Former.”

[Y/N] had no idea what they were getting into. HYDRA, always good at hiding in the shadows; they brought [Y/N] in under the guise of an assistant job studying new forms of neural regeneration. A job that paid well enough to live comfortably and even send a little extra home, while developing something that just might solve all their mother’s problems? It was a dream come true.

Fortunately for HYDRA but unfortunately for [Y/N], they were very good at their job too. They helped HYDRA develop all kinds of nasty stuff. Nanobots that changed brain chemistry, near foolproof brainwashing tech— They even helped develop special toxins, one of the world’s deadliest poisons. All the while, thinking they were doing something good.

“How is that possible?” the original voice asked. “How could they have been so oblivious?”

“One-track mind?” the second voice offered, “Plus misinformation on HYDRA’s part and ‘routine health checks’ with something a little extra mixed in.”

“They were tested on?”

“A victim of almost everything they’d helped create, except the fatal stuff and anything that would disrupt business as usual. IVs and shots full of toxins, nanobots being released into their room while they slept.”

The third asked, “What changed?”

“Wanda.”

[Y/N] stumbled upon Wanda and her brother by pure accident. They’d been late that day and in their hurry, ran through a wrong door to where HYDRA was keeping Sokovian volunteers for testing. The twins were the youngest in their group, [Y/N] was only a couple of years older and the youngest in their division. It was a match made in heaven, really.

“Try hell,�� the first voice suggested with a scoff.

The other voices offered their murmured agreements.

“So they knew each other,” the third voice said, “Before.”

That’s when [Y/N] started pulling at threads and HYDRA’s costume began to unravel; their one-track mind had switched gears. There was something too weird about the whole thing, these Sokovian civilians had stories that didn’t line up with [Y/N]’s own.

“And they believed them?”

They believed Wanda. She and her brother were just two more Sokovian citizens suffering at the hands of war and wanting to help their people. They had no reason to lie. They had more reason to be honest to [Y/N] than HYDRA ever did, actually. It was just a bonus that for Wanda and [Y/N], being around each other was like being a moth drawn to a flame.

[Y/N] may have been naive but they were far from stupid. When they figured out what was going on, they wriggled their way deeper into HYDRA’s ranks under their own disguise of loyalty. They became a full-fledged HYDRA agent, tasked with assisting in neural and poisonous weaponry. They weren’t able to protect Pietro and Wanda from testing, obviously—not that Wanda would have let them; she and her brother still believed they were being tested on for the greater good—but they did their best to stay nearby and keep the Maximoffs’ sanity intact for as long as they could. They even managed to save a couple of the other test victims by injecting them with temporary poisons that lowered their heart rate to the point of appearing dead. When the bodies were dropped off, the poison wore off not long after and some of the victims were able to escape. No side effects to be seen.

“I have a question,” Original voice said abruptly. “Why do we know this much information on one person? Like, this is some in-depth, intimate stuff. Why do we know that [Y/N] and Wanda had the hots for each other since day one?”

Second voice answered, “We’ve done extensive research on [Y/N]. The result of an investigation on the person who caused the apprehension of an entire faction of HYDRA after successfully poisoning them.”

The tests that were done on [Y/N] were not without their outcomes. They gained the ability to transform almost any matter into almost any other form.

“Huh,” Third voice hummed, “That reminds me of a series of disappearances a few years back. One house was replaced by rose bushes and another—get this—burned down because the roof had been turned to lava. Whoever it was, they either stopped on their own or died. What were they called?”

“The Alchemist,” Second stated simply, much to Third’s dismay. “And those were incognito HYDRA agents.”

After Pietro died and Wanda disappeared—not really disappeared, just left with the Avengers—[Y/N] had a choice to make. They were far too deep into HYDRA’s work now, the awful things that they had done were beginning to weigh on them, as Wanda and her brother had been just as grounding for [Y/N] as [Y/N] had been for her. After she was gone, they had a hard time dealing with the horrible business going on around them. So they did what they knew how to do; they mixed up a combination of poison and nanobots.

[Y/N] had fully committed to perishing with the rest of their coworkers but apparently, the poison hadn’t been quite strong enough. They’d made a miscalculation in a time of poor mental state and woke up the next day to hear that not all of the HYDRA agents had died either. At least the survivors had been taken in for the time being but that just wasn’t enough for them; they’d had a right to be concerned too because HYDRA had a habit of getting themselves out of sticky situations. This case was no different.

[Y/N] most likely felt responsible for having a hand in HYDRA’s dirty work, for not doing more, and they must have felt even more responsible when they learned that HYDRA was a much bigger problem than they could have ever imagined.

First blurted, “Well, what happened next?”

Second answered, “They went after agents until they got caught, the only way they knew how.”

The second miscalculation that they’d ever made got them caught. The agent put a gun to [Y/N]’s head and pulled the trigger.

“So are they dead too?” First asked. The voice seemed to quiver.

The third voice hemmed and hawed a bit before saying, “They must have, with the way all this weirdness had been going. Oh my god, poor Wanda, not one dead partner but two—”

Second spoke over the other two voices’ rambling, forcing them to calm down and listen. “They didn’t die, though, they—”

The voices started cutting out like the dream was a TV program being interfered by a poor connection and static.

“—Found by—Barely alive—Hospital—Braindead—Westview—Find a doct—”

Suddenly gunshots sounded, one followed by several more, and the darkness cracked and shattered, revealing blinding light behind it. A silhouette walked silently through the wall of light; it was Geraldine—no, Monica—poised with a gun in the outfit she helped deliver Maximoff twins in. As she walked forward, crossing from a plane of burning white to one of void black, the image of her warped and distorted until it changed. Monica, looking much more modern, in a uniform that included a bulletproof vest and a lanyard with S.W.O.R.D. printed at the top, moving carefully towards a broken and bleeding body on the ground with another in a heap behind her. The image distorted and changed again, and the first body was sitting on their knees and looking up defiant defeat. The person they were looking at was no longer Monica but a bulky figure in a dark outfit with straps in the form of an H across their chest, the body that had been laying in a battered pile behind Monica just a moment earlier. The H-adorned assailant held a still-raised gun to the kneeling person’s forehead.

[Y/N] could only spit at their feet before another gunshot sounded and the image disappeared to black.

You woke up sweating and choking on your breath. Your brain, throbbing with a pain that shot through it like a bullet, didn’t register fast enough that you were standing instead of laying down so when you flailed, you threw yourself off balance and fell forward. Catching a quick glimpse of your surroundings on your way down told you that you were somewhere outside and that it was the dead of night. You tried last minute to brace yourself for a concrete-laden impact.

You were instead greeted with soft fabric and arms wrapping tightly around you.

“Goodness, [Y/N], are you quite alright?”

You squinted at the striped sleepwear for a moment before looking up where Vision’s worried gaze and whirling irises were waiting for you; it took your eyes a moment to fully focus as the pain in your head faded but left a faint ringing behind. Then you looked around at your surroundings; not only were you outside but you were standing in Vision and Wanda’s driveway. Your gaze settled on a particular section of the house’s exterior where you vividly remembered a vaguely human shape exploding out of its walls.

You were standing in the exact same place you had been when it happened.

“[Y/N]?” Vision said again, drawing your attention back to him.

“Oh, cosmo, I’m sorry,” you said but your throat was too dry and you had to stop and clear your throat halfway through. Being in Vision’s arms, you were keenly aware of the fact that you were both in your bedwear and that yours had been sweated through. You slumped against him, partially to hide your embarrassed face but also because you felt like you hadn’t slept at all.

“Vis?”

“Yes, my favorite teacup?”

You snorted softly at that. “You don’t even drink tea.”

“Oh, I know,” Vision lilted back. Then he nuzzled his face into your hair. “I do like the patterns and the daintiness of them though.”

That time you laughed a bit. Feeling his warm breath against your scalp and his strong arms holding you safely in place against him, you almost instantly melted into the embrace. You wrapped your own arms around him and pressed your face into his chest. “What are we doing outside?”

“Ah, yes, about that. You appeared to be sleepwalking again.”

You groaned. “Again? This is a nightmare.”

One of Vision’s hands moved to run itself through your hair and down your neck. “That accident you had the other day certainly did a number on you.”

The accident. In other words, that time where you walked off in the middle of a conversation with Vision, Agnes, and Herb to mumble at a wall and then faceplant onto the sidewalk. Not only was your nose still recovering but your mind and dignity as well.

“The only time I’ve slept well since is when I fell asleep on your couch,” you whined. Then you lowered your voice and grumbled into Vision’s chest.

Vision chuckled. “What was that?”

You looked up at him and scowled. “The four of you are over here in your stupid, big, warm, cozy house. Meanwhile, I’m across the way, alone and uncomfortable, with only Bernard to keep me company. Bernard’s terrible company.”

“Truly,” Vision agreed, grinning slightly. He loved your strange, cute, not at all challenging struggles.

The both of you turned to give the lawn ornament in question a pointed look. Bernard seemed to glower back.

“Well,” Vision said as he pulled away from you a bit, “why don’t you come inside then? Wanda’s up with the babies anyway. You might as well join us, especially if it means you’ll be able to sleep better.” Not taking no for an answer, the synthezoid was already tugging you towards the lit-up porch.

You were too tired to argue and, quite frankly, you didn’t want to, so you allowed yourself to be pulled along as you admired the soft cotton of Vision’s matching pajama set.

“Oh, my.”

“What?” You looked at Vision’s face again only to catch him staring at a spot above your eyes. The porch light glinted off the gem embedded in his own. “What, do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Vision responded slowly, “but you must have done something to it. You have quite the scar.”

Your eyebrows raised. You moved away from him to look at your reflection in one of the windows and surely enough, you had a raised scar on your forehead, near your hairline. You gingerly pressed your fingers against it; it certainly wasn’t new.

A seemingly random thought popped into your head. Is that… a scar from a bullet?

“What on earth did you do to yourself?” Vision asked. Him walking up to stand directly behind you and press his hands to your neck, under the collar of your shirt no less, was more than a little distracting. “You’ve got one back here too.”

You reached back to where Vision was touching and when he removed his fingers, you could feel a similar scar at the base of your neck.

You thought again, Bullet… exit wound…?

Something about the dream you were having earlier called out to you but you couldn’t remember anything about it. When you tried to think about it further, the excruciating pain came back in waves and you had to steady yourself on the windowsill to prevent yourself from collapsing.

“Huh,” you said instead, “I have no idea.”

“They don’t hurt?” Vision questioned. “They’re not just… odd raised bruises perhaps? Welts maybe?”

“No, I don’t think so. They don’t hurt at all, though.” To make a point, you pressed down hard on the raised scar on your forehead, watched the skin turn a few shades lighter before releasing the pressure and dropping your hand again. Under the thick, stiff tissue, you barely felt the pressure at all.

Vision thoughtfully hummed, placing his hands back on the curves of your neck; you prayed to whatever deities existed that you didn’t make any sounds you’d regret.

“Well,” your partner said, “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

A pause. Your eyes stayed trained on the window’s reflection, specifically where you could see Vision’s fingers gently cupping your neck.

Then he abruptly leaned down and pressed a kiss on the scar tissue, missing a pulse point by a hair. “We should head inside then.”

You had to take a solid minute to recover from the shockwave of tingles that briefly made your veins turn into lightning. Then you shuffled after Vision into the ever so inviting house.

Stepping out of chilly darkness and into a home of cozy furniture and warm light that turned the entire place a golden brown felt like walking into another world. An extra added layer of comfort to the usually perfect home was the slight disarray of baby equipment almost everywhere that wasn’t the floor itself, most of which you had gone out and bought during the babies’ day of birth and all of which Vision and Wanda appreciated; somehow, you had prepared for the babies’ accelerated growing on a panicked whim better than the Maximoffs. Tiny baby blankets and stuffed animals were strewn about and each visible part of the house—the living room, the dining area, and the kitchen, although the kitchen was partially blocked off by a drying rack of baby clothes and swaddles of various patterns and sizes—had a designated Baby Tray. These trays, perched on whatever flat surface had been previously free of decor or clutter, held bottles, nonperishable treats, diaper-changing equipment, teething toys, a mini first aid kit for each, and other useful trinkets; the new parents had apparently completely forgotten that almost all their house’s rooms were openly attached to each other and that, if one singular Baby Tray was designated to the dining area, it would take the same amount of about five steps to get to it from either the living area or the kitchen. It was almost comedic, the number of baby care items that were laying anywhere but the floor or in proper storage because, according to Vision, god forbid something gets a speck of dust on it and have to be washed or, according to Wanda, one of the babies be without their favorite toys easily accessible at every given moment. The only thing allowed to touch the ground, aside from feet, was a playpen that now replaced the usual coffee table in the living room area and a play mat in the babies’ room with its attached toys for the twins to play with. A final touch to the hominess was the soft light that you could see streaming out of the baby room’s open door, and the gentle voice of Wanda, singing a Sokovian lullaby, fluttering out of it.

It felt like coming home.

Vision stepped away from your side to clean up somewhat, picking up a few toys and folding baby blankets and onesies to move them aside in case you wanted to make yourself comfortable on the couch. Standing inside now, you could much better make out Vision’s dark blue terry robe over a pair of bright yellow pajama pants that no doubt had a shirt to match hidden beneath dark blue fabric. The yellow of his pants matched the yellow gem that was embedded in his forehead, glittering with an unused power that you had yet to experience and that felt warm whenever you went to place a kiss on it. Poking out from the hems of his robe and pants were perfectly human hands and feet, despite their deep red color that matched the rest of his body; you found the continued presence of fingernails when not in his human disguise—absolutely unnecessary to his design, he’d pointed out when you initially asked about them—weirdly cute and continuously felt the urge to grab nail polish and paint them to match either the color of the gem or the same silver as the plating that started at his scalp and trailed down beneath the collar of his shirt. You briefly wondered how far that plating traveled across his body before mentally kicking yourself.

The greatest thing about this still-fresh reveal of Vision’s inhuman identity—aside from the fact that he was no longer hiding something important from you, obviously—was that you now knew that he wasn’t just difficult to make blush but rather he quite literally couldn’t blush. You wondered what else he could and couldn’t do, only to mentally kick yourself again.

I can’t tell if I’ve gotten worse or better since I’ve started dating them, you thought.

Oh, your brain responded on its own accord, so much worse.

Shhh!

Vision was still puttering why while you stared and inwardly argued with yourself. At this point, he’d cleaned up most of the chaos and moved the stuffed animals and now-folded blankies to sit neatly on the dining area table.

“Vis,” you said.

Before you could continue, the man perked up and looked in your direction. “Yes, duck?”

You blinked. “You make my heart go rainbow-colored. Anyway—” You broke off into a laugh when Vision went flustered, his hands flapping about while he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “Did I win this round?”

Sometimes Vision got into the habit of ending all of his sentences around you and Wanda with a pet name. When you had first noticed this feat, you’d decided to start doing the same, just to see what would happen. He noticed and began purposely doing it back, where he had previously done it unintentionally, and now doing the occasional back-and-forth conversation that ended in pet names more than punctuation was somewhat of a competition between you two.

Vision scoffed at you, picked up a plushie, and tossed it at you. “Not fair!”

Being in the house that was beginning to feel more like home than your own, around your partners and their sweet baby boys, seemed to shield and reenergize you from the exhaustion you felt after first waking up that night. You caught the stuffed animal, a plushie of a wizard, grinned and tossed it back at him.

“Oh,” Vision chirped, catching the plush wizard again, “I see how it is.” He puffed out his chest and gave you a warning, albeit amused, glare, then picked up a couple more plushes. In a lower, sort of growling voice that made your heart leap out of your chest and into your stomach, he continued, “If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you shall get.”

You yelped as he started in your direction and dived across the front of the couch to get some stuffed animal ammo of your own. He nailed you in the foot with a cream-colored bunny and you returned the favor with a plushie of a witch in a red dress after taking cover behind the playpen. Now each of you was standing where the other had previously been, with you poking your head over the playpen’s sheer wall and Vision slowly pacing around the back of the couch for his second lap. You pulled the playpen with you with one hand as you moved away from him and the two of you began circling each other.

Oh, if Wanda could see her partners now.

“Oh, Wanda—” you started to stand, only to get smacked in the face with a blue teddy bear; luckily, it was of the very soft variety. You stared at Vision in disbelief.

Vision stared back, eyes bulging, unsure of whether he should apologize or prepare for an attack. He was too torn to do either, though, and had to scramble back to avoid an onslaught of stuffed bullets flying his way.

Still aware that it was very late at night, your war-cry was softened, “Revenge!”

Then your attack quickly diminished, partially because you were running out of ammo and Vision wasn’t throwing anything back and partially because Vision was now floating off the ground and heading towards you, arms full of said ammo.

Wow, didn’t know it did that, you thought randomly, eyes fixed Vision floating in general, before specifically fixating on the devilish grin he wore while doing so. He looked like a very handsome, well, vision.

A handsome Vision, if you will, your brain offered. You almost snorted before remembering you had not yet moved to avoid Vision’s floating plushie attack. You stumbled backward and scrambled out of the living room just as Vision started throwing.

“No no no no no nonononono—” You were choking between laughter and squawking as you got up and began running down the hallway to save yourself. “Not fair, not fair not fair, not fair—!”

You ran past the baby room and caught Wanda mid-turnaround, saying, “What on earth is going on out there?” You reeled back to pause in the doorway, caught a glimpse of the babies in their one large crib, smiled, went to pant out an answer—

Only to feel arms wrap around you and drag you back down the hallway. You started to shriek, then forced it into a startled laugh as to not disturb the babies, and flailed around in Vision’s arms as he lifted you off the ground. It was brief, though, because then your struggling caught Vision off balance and the two you tumbled to the ground. There, you both harmlessly pummeled each other until you both were out of breath and snickering, and you somehow ended up with his top half under you but his legs pinning down your own.

“You can fly?” you bubbled. You grabbed his face and squished his cheeks in your hands. “What the hell?”

He laughed and nodded, and one of his hands caught your own. He glanced up at you as he kissed your palm and replied, “Yes, just a little.”

“Just a little—”

“And his wife can move things with her mind, like the crib she just finished rocking to put the boys back to sleep, and if she has to do it again because of her partners’ roughhousing…”

You and Vision quickly disentangled yourselves from each other and looked up at Wanda, whose face said serious but whose eyes twinkled with amusement and who looked no less terrifying in a pale pink, puff-sleeved nightgown.

You got up and straightened your clothes, with Vision following closely behind. “I will very happily take over the next shift because I started it and I’m very sorry.”

“What? Nonsense, [Y/N], I threw the first stuffed animal.”

“I threw it back,” you pointed out.

“Neither of you better have thrown and hit something,” Wanda warned.

You glanced at Vision for confirmation; you didn’t exactly see much when you were chucking plushies aplenty and then running from your flying boyfriend.

Vision nodded. “Nothing at all, although I did make the evaluation that we do have a plethora of plushies and baby blankets.”

“I thought I was the one who pointed that out when you first gave me the shopping list, but okay,” you huffed under your breath, then grinned with Vision lightly bumped you with his hip. “So, the babies having a bad night?”

“Actually, they were apparently worried about you,” Wanda said.

That made your head do a confused tilt. “Me?”

“Ah, yes,” Vision nodded, “We fell asleep with them in the living room and Billy started crying. We woke up to figure out what was wrong and Wanda saw you standing outside.”

Wanda added, “Tommy started crying shortly after I walked to the door with him like he wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Aww,” you cooed, peering over Wanda’s shoulder to see the babies. She stepped to the side so you could walk in and shuffle over to the crib, and she and Vision stood nearby as you crouched down to brush a hand over their little sleeping heads. You continued, much softer this time, “Were the boys trying to make sure I was safe? Are they my little protectors? My little superheroes?”

Tommy gurgled happily in his sleep. Billy remained quiet but his head leaned into your hand.

You looked up at their parents with big, awestruck eyes to see them leaning comfortably into each other, watching you with the same level of affection you felt for them and their babies.

“Heroes indeed,” Vision said. He walked over as you stood up again and lightly rocked the crib; Wanda strolled over to join the group. He continued to the twins in baby-talk, “But no hero-ing until after college, my little honeydews. For now, leave the protecting to your parents.”

“Especially this one,” Wanda chirped, making her way over to your side and slipping her arm around your back. “They’re a handful.”

You faked a gasp, “I’m a treasure.”

“You’re a putz,” Wanda said simply, with a smirk and a light pinch to your hip.

You gasped harder and stared at her with utter betrayal.

“A goof,” Vision chimed in. He slipped his own arm around you, the final piece of your three-person puzzle.

You gasped harder still— and almost choked on air. Then you looked to the babies. “Bullies! Bullies, both of them! Billy, Tommy, you must protect me!”

Very enthusiastically, neither baby did anything.

“I’ve been betrayed yet again,” you cried, not too loudly, though. You slumped against Vision and Wanda’s waiting arms. “Betrayed by my own brood!”

“Your brood?” Wanda questioned, quirking a brow. Vision was giggling softly at your other side.

“Yes,” you whispered, looking at her with wide, distraught eyes, “My brood. My pack. My murder.”

“Your what?” Vision said.

“It’s a group of crows,” you explained under your breath, before slumping down farther and continuing your distraught monologue. “I’m all alone! Oh, the horror—”

“Well,” Wanda said, “We’re supporting you very well a family that has completely abandoned you.”

You flopped your head back in her direction. You were so far to the ground now that you were practically on your knees, only your arms and shoulders being held by Wanda and Vision. You traced fingers lamely across each of their arms. “So strong, those who once held me…”

The married couple exchanged an amused but mysterious look.

“Wanda, darling,” Vision said, “They seem to have gone delusional.”

Wanda nodded sagely in response. “Clearly lost their mind.”

You squinted, glancing between them. What were they up to?

“To the ward with you,” Wanda suddenly announced.

Then you caught a red glow by your feet, but not fast enough before you were swept up into the air on a cloud of red mist. You burst into startled laughter but quickly slapped a hand over your mouth so you didn’t wake up the children. Once you relaxed—enough to stop laughing anyway, not enough to not be freaking out about being magically escorted out of the nursery—you waved your hands through the red; it felt like waving your hands through the open air. The only thing actually felt was the pressure on the back of your body that was holding you afloat and carrying you out of the room, but when you tried to balance on it and move to a different position, all you did was squirm and twist awkwardly in the air before flopping back down. You craned your neck, mostly to make sure Tommy and Billy hadn’t woken up from your outburst, but you only caught Wanda, hands glowing red, following you out of the room and Vision trailing after wishing his babies a goodnight.

You looked back at the ceiling for a moment. After you heard the nursery door shut, you asked at a normal volume, “I’m not gonna fall, right?”

“Not unless I let you,” Wanda reassured you. You couldn’t see her but the teasing tone of her voice made you imagine her with a smirk. A smirk, narrowed eyes, her pretty nightgown floating around her, magical powers that she could definitely use to crush you if she wanted to and you’d probably thank her if she did.

Wow, okay, I either need to confess my sins or go to sleep.

“Why?” Wanda asked suddenly.

“Why what?” you choked back, heat rushing to your face. Surely, she couldn’t read your thoughts…

“Why ask if you would fall?”

Oh.

“Oh.” You started flopping around in the cloud of magic, testing the proverbial waters; you were being taken to the living area now. You heard both Wanda and her husband laughing from beneath and behind you when you settled again.

Vision asked through chuckling, “What could you possibly be doing?”

You suddenly flung yourself to one of the magic surrounding you, thinking maybe you would fall through, but the magic held. You huffed and laid back again but not before you caught a glimpse of the couch that you now hovered over. You grasped at the magic again, watching it wisp through your fingers but feeling nothing at all. “This is so cool.”

Wanda’s voice was softer when she spoke this time. “You think?”

You couldn’t hold back the disbelieving laughter that bubbled up. Suddenly breathless out of sheer excitement of learning more about the people you cared for most, you sighed, “Wanda, baby, you must know that you’re amazing.”

Then you squawked as the magic suddenly disappeared around you, but instead of falling straight to the couch below, Vision flew up to catch you. He held you bridal style as he gently dropped back to his feet next to the couch, grinning—he very rarely just smiled, it was always a big, happy grin when it was directed at you or Wanda or the babies—and giving you a peck on the forehead when you stared up at him, doe-eyed.

“Got my own Superman, too,” you said, “Damn.”

Vision plopped you down on the couch. “Who?”

“Comic book character,” you responded with a wave of your hand, “Doesn’t matter. You’re far better looking than him anyway.”

You shifted a bit to get more comfortable and watched as glowing red magic started swirling all around you. The magic was misty, red around the edges and glowing orange-white in the center, picking up the scattered toys from your and Vision’s scuffle and tossing them into the playpen, pulling said playpen out of the way and sliding the original coffee table back from its place against the wall, picking up any other stray blankets or baby items and placing them neatly out of the way; it also straightened out Vision’s robe and ruffled your hair. Part of the magic moved out of your line of vision, so you twisted to follow it and saw it taking the baby clothes off the drying rack to fold and put on the counter next to it, then continued watching as it folded the rack itself and moved it out of the way.

Wanda was now in your sight again too; she was standing still, palms up with magic flowing outward from the red clouds around them, and looking around to see if there was anything else she needed to put away. She was also blushing, from you calling her baby or saying she’s amazing, you couldn’t tell. After staring for probably way too long, probably looking at her with the same starry-eyed, dopey look that a teenager had at their first concert or after a first kiss, her gaze flitted to yours and made a nose-scrunching face at you before finishing her magical cleanup and making her way over to the couch as well.

You slumped back in the pile of throw pillows behind you, covered your face with your hands, and flutter-kicked your feet few times. “This is so cool!”

You felt a nudge at your feet and you raised your legs so he could sit, then did the same with your head when you felt Wanda’s hand brush across your forehead. When they were both seated, you laid your legs and head on their respective laps and the three of you settled into the comfortable position that had been adopted long after your relationship had started.

That is until you quickly sat up again. “Is that how you unpacked your house so quickly?”

Wanda smiled and nodded. She rested a cheek in the palm of her hand, endeared by your wonderment towards her powers.

“Is that you unpacked my house?”

Another nod.

“And the magic show was real— Wait.” You scowled. “But all the pulleys and stuff.”

“That was, ah, my bad,” Vision offered with a raised hand.

“Covering for him actually using his powers,” Wanda explained.

“I knew the mirrors didn’t make sense with you putting your hat through your body!” you exclaimed. “So flight, super strong, and… not sure what to call that last one. What was with you that day, by the way? You acted drunk, but you can’t get drunk!”

“I swallowed some gum,” Vision muttered, glancing away and rubbing the side of his neck. His other hand waved towards his torso as he continued, “It got all… stuck. Gummed up my gears, if you will.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at the pun. You snickered at it.

“I had to magic it out of him,” she added.

Your gaze flitted back and forth between your two superhuman partners multiple times as you took in the information. Because you were sitting between the two, this involved the turning of your head various times, which made your head swim a bit. You almost wished that they were both sitting to one side of you.

Instead of suggesting this, you settled your gaze to stare aimlessly ahead and said simply, “I’m dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar people in the world. How the hell did I manage that?”

“Charisma,” Vision offered, even though you and him both knew at this point how you’d weirdly creeped on him at the office the first day the two of you met.

“Sheer force of will,” Wanda suggested, but you guaranteed she was remembering how, for the few dates you went on with them, you’d had to be reminded that you were actually on dates and that they weren’t just casual friendly hangouts.

You looked between them once more and then you wished you had suggested they sit to one side of you. Despite their steady, comfortable voices, Wanda was in the process of hiding her flustered face behind the curtain of her hair and Vision was chewing on his lip and couldn’t seem to keep his hands and feet from tapping away.

“Okay,” you said after a moment, patting your thighs to do something with your hands. “I’m grasping that you guys don’t agree with me here. Wanda, go sit by him so I don’t get whiplash from trying to look at you both.”

You and Wanda quickly switched places. You sat cross-legged on the couch to face them and Wanda and Vision shifted around to sit in a way that allowed them to face you without one blocking the other. After a moment, you waved your hands at them; the cheery air has since faded into something more somber. “What is it? Tell me why you get all quiet like that when I tell you, with evidence, why you’re the actual grooviest people I’ve ever met.”

There were a few more moments of silence before Vision went to speak first, which surprised Wanda. She looked at him, eyebrows raised high on her forehead, and lightly grasped his wrist.

“Vis?” she murmured.

He sighed softly and placed his other hand over hers. “Oh, it’s really nothing dear, I promise. It’s just… Well, you’ve heard how the people of the cul-de-sac talk about us sometimes.”

“Mean girls,” you grumbled under your breath with a nod, “the lot of them sometimes.”

Wanda seemed to suddenly sag with sadness and both you and Vision reached over quickly to hold her.

“Oh, darling,” Vision said, “It’s not your fault—”

“That’s not true,” Wanda whispered.

“It is true,” Vision said, and this time he said it with a fierceness that was familiar to you, whenever Wanda was being treated poorly by people like the Queen of the Cul-de-Sac, Dotty, or when Wanda decided to get down on herself. He grasped her shoulders tightly, squeezed them until she looked up at him. “Wanda, darling, love, I didn’t exist before I meant you. I mean, I did, of course, I did, but I was just this strange, non-human, non-machine thing that was just… kind of… there. It was you that gave me an existence, Wanda. You made me human.”

Both you and Wanda stared at him, surprised. Wanda stared because she obviously didn’t fully agree with his opinion of her. You stared because of course, you were dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar, and most romantic people ever.

Get yourself a man like that, you thought. Then after a moment, Wait, that is in fact also my man.

“And you—” Vision said, turning his head in your direction.

“Oh, I’m next?” you stammered. “I thought it was Wanda’s turn.”

Vision still held Wanda but also reached over to tightly grasp your hand and bring it to his mouth. “I just wished we could have confessed to you sooner. I just hate, hate, hated lying to you and now you’re involved with all this too—”

The synthezoid with the English accent looked up at you with eyes begging forgiveness as if he’d committed one of the worst sins imaginable. You let out a hoarse laugh and ran your thumb across the side of his hand.

“I’m sorry,” you said, still chuckling as you wriggled closer to your couple, “but as much as you might like to think you’ve subjected me to something I didn’t sign up for, I’d like to point out that I’ve been about a month ahead of you. I was here before you.” You felt a nagging urge to look at Wanda and repeat the last sentence, and there was something extra special about saying it that second time like there was a double and then a triple meaning behind it, but the way you both furrowed your brows afterward made it clear that neither of you really knew what those meanings were.

Not yet, anyway.

You cleared your throat and removed your hand from Vision’s grasp to place it on the back of the couch. “I moved into this town with no husband or wife, no family, nothing but a pile of letters and a new deed to a new house that happened to be the smallest in the neighborhood. My first week here I told one man in front of the entire night watch that I thought the joke he made about his wife was distasteful, and then the week after I tripped and spilled wine all over his wife. Agnes brought because she thought I’d be a form of entertainment and we somehow ended up becoming friends over a flask that she hid in a pocket sewed into the inside of her skirt.” You offered a look to Wanda again while you mentioned that Agnes never thought your “for the children” jokes were all that funny, though. “I’ve dealt with the comments and the rumors and the ‘what’s wrong with them, they don’t have no kids!’ People are weird and they’re mean and they’re fun and they suck. You want human, dude? You got it. If I was still bothered by comments that are nothing but a bummer, I think I’d be trying a little bit more than wearing clothes that I enjoy over the clothes that are expected of me, telling Dotty she needs to stop being awful before she gets frown lines, or, you know, pining over two people—a married couple nonetheless—until I somehow seduced them with my staring at them from around corners and just generally horrible, awful attempts at eye contact.”

The married couple in question chortled at that.

You used your hand on the back of the couch to hoist yourself up on your knees so you towered over Vision just slightly.

“Here’s the thing, sunshine,” you continued, “I’m not in your boat on this one, you dorks, you’re in mine. I was here first and I don’t give a fuck.”

Wanda gave a sudden laugh. “What language.”

“Has he not told you about the time I said ‘Fuck you’ to a plastic bird in my garden?” you asked. “Multiple times? His name is Bernard and he’s plotting to kill me, I swear.”

Wanda’s troubled expression was split by a wobbly smile.

You threw up your arms in the dramatic fashion that you knew the two people in front of you loved and hollered—then quickly quieted back down to not disturb Billy and Tommy in the other room—“All this for my rambling putz ass to say, who cares about what’s outside this house! You two, and your kids, and I are the only people that matter here. Here being the house, Westview, whatever! Everyone else? Nonexistent.

“Also, just to clarify,” you paused to wave your arms around, gesturing at the entire house, “Love it here. Love this shit.”

You suddenly caught Vision’s slacked jaw in your hand and gave him a peck on the cheek. “This face? Love it.” You moved to peck a spot of silver on his skull. “Love this too.” You pecked the gem on his forehead and swore it glowed brighter in response. “Love this.” You pecked one of his ear plates. “Love these goofy things.” You pecked the tip of his nose. “Love this and the fact that you have it even though you don’t technically even need to breathe. Oh, speaking of which!”

You lifted one of his hands with one of your own and tapped on his red fingernails with your other. You caught a glimpse of his face now that yours wasn’t directly in front of it and noticed him trying to hold back a giddy smile—and failing—while he watched you from underneath red lashes; your whole body would have tried to twist itself in knots under that look if you weren’t too busy swearing to kiss those eyelids and lashes too, at another time. Instead, you pecked each fingertip of the hand you were holding. “Love these ‘useless to my design’ things too. You know what, just speaking of hands—” You dropped Vision’s hand, which made itself to your waist as you went to grab Wanda’s; you were vaguely aware that you were practically leaning into their laps at that point but that could be dealt with when you weren’t trying to make a point.

When you went to touch her, she let you hold her wrist but quickly squeezed her hand into firsts before you could hold it like you had with Vision’s. She was looking away.

You pressed a kiss to her whitening knuckles. “Wanda.”

She looked at you, her perfect face distorted by a deep sadness that almost shattered your heart on the spot. She tightened her first further. The deep emotion appeared to make her slip back into her natural Sokovian accent when she spoke again. “You don’t know the pain it’s caused.”

“I’ve done my fair share,” you affirmed even though you weren’t quite sure why. Then you kissed her knuckles again. “And maybe I don’t, but I know what good it’s caused, that you have.”

Her face twisted into an ugly grimace. She asked hoarsely, “Like what?”

“The first time I saw your face, I wanted to go to space, grab the moon, shrink it down—so it looked like one of those cool little lava rocks, you know? But prettier—and get it put on a ring,” you offered, then kissed the back of her hand and whispered, “and that’s after I found out you were married to a very attractive man too…”

Vision snorted. Wanda cracked the smallest of smiles.

You whispered lower, “And I may or may not have even been interested in marriage before that…”

That time Wanda rolled her eyes; you smiled and grabbed her other clenched hand to share the attention with. You continued, “You’re also so nice, like so nice. You are so kind and care about what people think so much, it’s almost buggy—and bordering on self-destructive but that’s not what we’re talking about— And I sort of get it now, you know, but wow, making your magic show worse for the sake of people’s sanity? Wouldn’t even be on my radar.”

Another little smile.

“I’d be like, ‘Who wants to see me turn this entire table into a rosebush! Dotty’s rosebush specifically; Dotty, I stole your rosebush.’ I actually did steal a rose from her bush that day.”

Wanda blinked and you noticed the lines of her expression weren’t as deeply etched into her face anymore.

“That was Dotty’s?”

You grinned and nodded, then kissed both of her hands. “Also, I love your hair and the way it perfectly frames your perfect face, and I love your little nose scrunches, and I love your eyelashes and the way you look at me from under them sometimes, and I’d kiss all those things but I’m not going to because I gotta get these stubborn, always-working, never-wanna-take-a-break, always-somehow-perfect-nails-having hands to relax before they hurt themselves even though it’s very clearly hard enough to make who woman who owns them do the same. Oh, I did I mention that smile—hoo, Wanda, that foxy smile…”

Wanda was blushing now and bringing up her smile made it happen again, just slightly. You took advantage of the moment anyway and flung yourself back onto the couch with a hand over your heart. “Be still, my pounding heart!”

Vision, who was watching by your and Wanda’s sides, laughed a bit. Wanda herself rolled her eyes again; the smile didn’t disappear afterward.

You sat up again and pointed at Vision, now that he’d brought attention to himself again. “And I don’t know whether you heard any of the stuff this guy said! You made him exist? You made him human? What? You two also do this thing where you just look at each other and have a whole conversation, I don’t know if you guys know you do that or not. You do, though, and I don’t know if either or both of you are psychic but if you are and still love me? With my unhinged brain? Migraines and all? I wouldn’t understand, even if you explained it to me.”

Vision offered, “Neither of us is psychic but anyway, please continue.”

“Have anything to add?”

“You’re doing wonderfully.”

“Thank you.” You looked back and Wanda, noting that her face had almost completely softened now, as she was too busy being flustered to be sad at this point. You quickly scooped her hands before they could curl into fists again placed kissed on each of the crescent moon-shaped marks now dug into their palms. “Your magic rocked your babies to sleep. Your magic cleaned up all their and put it all in one nice, neat place. You floated me around the house with your magic and even protected me from falling when I was wriggling around up there; bet that was fun for both of you to watch. Vision said earlier that that was your job, to protect me, and while I don’t fully agree because I consider it the other way around, is that not what you did?”

“I thought it was cute,” Wanda replied softly to the second to last sentence you said. She watched as you gave her hands a few more pecks.

“So, you agree then,” you said, “that your magic protected me and also made me cuter?”

She laughed and the sound made your heart soared, performing an aerial performance in your chest. She tried to wriggle her hands free from you but then you scowled and tucked them protectively under your chin.

“Gotta say it. Gotta say your magic made me cute.”

“I’m not saying that.”

You shrugged and got comfy, laying your head in her lap with her hands still hidden. “Have to. Otherwise, no hands for you. Oh, did I not mention how good you are to your kids yet? You’re so good—”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Wanda forfeited through a wet laugh. Hearing said laugh, your head shot up in concern, but the woman was smiling as she snagged your hands back; what she chose to do with them next was grab your face and place a kiss directly on your mouth.

It was quick and soft and sweet and absolutely none of that prevented the fireworks that went off in your skull and your chest and your stomach and your veins that made tingles shoot all the way down to your toes. She pulled away as quickly as she had moved in and you blinked; your brain was still short-circuiting, like a robot—like a Vision with his gears all gummed up, and your dazed brain thought that was a very funny connection, so it repeated the joke verbally.

Luckily, Vision was close enough to the level of dork that you were and he laughed at it with you.

It took a deep breath and a head shake to de-gum your brain—if only Wanda could magic that—but after the excitement wore off, you felt sleepiness start creeping in and decided to make your final push. You curled a hand around both of your partners’ necks and brought their faces closer to nuzzle your noses together; they responded by each of them wrapping an arm around your waist and returning the affectionate action.

“So, in conclusion,” you stated, which caused Vision to laugh lightly and Wanda to grin just slightly, “I love both of these perfect faces.” You kissed each of their noses. “And these funky, magical brains.” You kissed Wanda at the base of her hairline, then Vision just below his forehead gem. “And these equally funky, magical hands.” You grabbed the hands not looped around your waist and kissed the back of them. “And both of those babies, and this house, and y—”

You sucked in a sudden breath to stop yourself so hard that you almost choked and you reeled back to the other side of the couch only to drag Vision and Wanda with you. The three of you tumbled into a flustered heap on the couch and over their shoulders, you could see early morning light filtering through the windows. This barely registered, though, as you were too busy focusing on the fact that you almost L-worded them on a silly, tired whim.

Despite the awkwardness of the moment and the unspoken words, no one made a move to remove themselves from the warm, cozy entanglement. One of both Wanda and Vision’s arms was pinned under your back, keeping them solid in place against you while simultaneously and successfully enveloping you in between them; your own arms, which had instinctively wrapped protectively around their shoulders in the tumble, kept them in a similar state. Wanda’s hair fanned found and covered the three of you like a blanket, and you were keenly aware of her breath softly wafting over the exposed skin of your neck from where her head now rested on your shoulder. Vision’s rested slightly lower, on your chest, and you felt a quickened pulse where his gem pressed into your neck, but you couldn’t be sure whether it was yours or his.

You stared past their shoulders and watched as sunlight shone through the curtains and dappled the ceiling. You tried to figure out whether you were stupider for stopping yourself from finishing that sentence or for not saying it at all.

Then you felt a kiss being pressed to your clothed shoulder.

“You’ve said so many things that you’ve loved tonight [Y/N],” Wanda murmured, her hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. “What’s two more?”

“I—” you started, then bit your tongue again. There was something about saying that phrase that made you worried; you felt like if you said it now, the happy little world you lived in would begin to crumble, like it would all end far too soon. You sighed softly and said instead, “I don’t know how I would live without you.”

There were a few moments of silence where you watched more sunlight filter in and wished you could take it back because what a way to talk a big game and then not follow through—

Then Vision’s head appeared above you and he pressed a dizziness-inducing kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, he nuzzled your nose with his own as he murmured, “I love you too.”

In almost the same moment, Wanda was mumbling the same phrase against your jawline.

Sleepy and hazy-brained you couldn’t do much else but stare at Vision like a lovesick puppy that struggled to say that L-word, then snuggle back down with both him and Wanda when they relaxed against you again. That seemed to be the last of what needed to be said, though, because everything was cozy and warm and golden brown in your home again and, one by one, the three of you fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, you heard the vaguely familiar First Voice finish chewing something and then go, “Aww…”

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pfft-yikes · 4 years ago

Note

I can't find the anon button so i volunteer as tribute-- top shino vs. bottom shino? Shino trying kinks with s/o? thank you monarch, mighty delicious bones.

I’m back with a request that has been sitting in my drafts for quite sometime now! Sorry about that @boneeating--baastard ;;

Anyways, this will be pretty long: I hope the length helps makes up for my horrendous post gappage ^^;;

*tw!*

- if harder kinks/BDSM aren’t your thing or make you uncomfy, I would skip this particular prompt. Enjoy!

Top!Shino - NSFW

Shino is very quiet mostly because he gets interrupted or ignored all the fucking time, so it made you wonder if things would be like a silent in the streets freaky in the sheets sort of thing

It’s definitely that and then some ♪

When you first started dating, obviously he wasn't gonna flat out go "Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I'm kinky husband material and will make you beg for me to touch you"

In fact, saying such a sentence would be quite embarrassing

He didn't want to push that on you though, or scare you with kinks he likes or wanted to try

However, this changed one night

You were staying over at his place during his off day; you'd already slept together before so it wasn't a big deal or anything

One thing led to another and next thing you know, you're both going at it

Something seemed different though, with both of you. Maybe you never noticed it before, but

..was Shino holding back.?

I mean to be quite honest, you’d gladly do it whenever Shino wanted to, however he wanted to

Y-You just never openly said this

And another thing; you're way too turned on right now, more than usual

Oh n o

✨ Ovulation ✨

You've never done it when you were ovulating!! You really didn't want your inner sluttiness to come out, Jesus ChriST-

..B-But..I want more..

You tried your best to hold back, but all of a sudden you find yourself staring Shino in the eye, wriggling around

"S-Shino.."

"..D-Do me more..Fuck me so hard that my pussy memorizes your shape..p-please?"

??!

"..I won't hold back anymore, then."

All of a sudden he slams himself into you, sending jolts down your spine

You can't help but turn into a moaning mess in front of him, scrambling to grab whatever you could on the bed

He grabs your small wrists with one of his big hands and pins them above your head

He lifts one of your legs up and places it on his shoulder, pushing himself deeper inside you

"..Tell me what you want. I know you have ideas in that cute head of yours."

"P-Pull my hair..c-choke me.. I'll do anything you want..I want more.."

He stares at you and caresses your face, running his thumb over your cheek, then your lip

"Is that really what you want?"

You lick his thumb and look up at him;

"Yes, sir."

Shino.exe has stopped working

He moves his hand to your neck, careful to lightly squeeze your arteries and not your throat

He feels your pussy throb and squeeze him harder, making him groan

"You're so eager. Cute."

He flips you over and pins your arms behind your back with one hand while grabbing your hair with the other

"Arch your back for me, sweetheart. I want you to feel everything."

He pounds you deep, making your legs shake

You had to have came at least 4 times now

Shino starts groaning more, and you feel his dick twitch inside you

"P-Please cum inside me..I want it so bad.."

"You really want me to take the condom off and do that? What an interesting request."

"I'm on birth control.. Please..?"

"Please what?"

"P-Please, sir?"

"How naughty."

He kisses your back while he slips himself back into you, raw this time

"Mm, fuck.."

He feels amazing inside; his dick is so warm.. Why didn't you get on birth control sooner?

His thrusts get faster and harder, putting you over the edge once more

He cums inside you, filling your hole up until it spills out

You thought that was it, that it was satisfying enough to stop

But you both sensed it wasn’t.

All of a sudden Shino picks you up off the bed and slams his hands on top of yours against the wall

Without missing a beat, he slowly pushes himself into you while licking your ear

“Let’s see how well your birth control works, darling. Keep your hands on the wall.”

Shino firmly plants one hand on the small of your back and gently reached around and placed his other hand’s fingers in your mouth

He starts picking up the pace, going deeper and deeper

Your head feels so light; it feels so good it’s dizzying

Shino notices how shaky your legs are and mentally captures this moment, chuckling a bit to himself

He turns you around to face him, and lifts you up, tucking his arms under your knees

He kisses you so deeply that the kiss itself could make you cum at any moment

You wrap your arms around him as he slams you down onto his dick, both of you getting close

Shino groans in your ear, pushing you to the edge

He feels your walls convulsing, and releases more hot liquid deep inside you

He carries you to the bed: you lay there shaking, while he holds you and plants small kisses on your hands

"Shino?"

Oh god she hated it

"..Hm?"

"..C-Can we try bondage next time? I-I have other ideas too, i-if you want to try them.."

Heart eyes for yOoOoOuU-

"Of course. Let's help you to the shower for now."

Bottom!Shino - NSFW

You two have been getting more comfortable with each other, both in bed and in general ever since you guys stopped holding back

There’s been a lot of experimenting throughout the last few months, just as promised

In fact, Shino probably knows you better than yourself in some ways now

You learned a lot about him as well in the process too; however

It’s still a bit difficult to read him, he’s very good at keeping a poker face;;

There is..s-something you could try, if he’s okay with it of course..

E-Even if it’s embarrassing for you, it’s for a good cause!! Understanding how to read your significant other is important for a healthy relationship!

The weekend rolls around, and you mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to do on your way to his place

Shino opens the door before you even knock

“Oh, hello Shino! Did I make you wait too long?”

“Of course not, I just knew you would be here soon because of my bugs. Come in.”*

*This is a half truth; in actuality he was simply really excited to see you after that bullshit mission with Naruto and Kiba and couldn’t sit still

You go inside, give Shino a hug and quick peck on the cheek, and say hello to his contained bugs

They were really happy to see you

You spent the afternoon chatting about what’s new, and listening to him vent about being stuck with the two idiots again during his last mission

After helping him in the kitchen with dinner, you decide that now is as good a time as any to prep for spending the night

“Shino, I’m going to go take a quick shower, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll be checking on my beetles.”

...She was acting fidgety when she was grabbing a change of clothes from the dresser.*

Yes, you have your own drawer of clothes at his house uwu*

He glances towards the drawer in question

But..I don’t want to mess with her things. Hm...

The water just stopped, so I’ll just wait until she comes back.

While Shino contemplated why you were acting sus as fuck in the bedroom, you were trying to calm down before you finished drying your hair

Feeling a bit nervous, you walk out of the bathroom sporting a simple oversized t-shirt and some baggy shorts

Shino looks at you, and gives you a kiss on the back of your hand when you sit down on the bed next to him

Oh thank God, he doesn’t suspect anything

“You seem anxious.”

So that was a fucking lie-

“I-I’m not really-..I-I mean, it’s just that-”

...

“I was wondering if..m-maybe we could- you know..d-do it.?”

“..? Of course we can. I wouldn’t refuse.”

Shino gently lifted your chin and gave you a simple kiss, slowly deepening it

You could feel yourself getting dizzy, but remembering what you had planned brought you back to your senses

You gently lean on top of him, pushing him back onto the bed

You look at him, and nervously say

“C-Can..can we try something different.? I kind of want it to be a surprise, so.. I-I guess what I mean to say is, d-do you trust me?”

Shino gives you a small smile and nods

“Of course.”

“O-Okay then; please, t-tell me if anything is uncomfortable, or if you want to stop, alright?”

“Mhm.”

With that, you grab his hands and start kissing him once more, slowly moving his hands above his head

You take his shirt off, and right after his arms get free from his clothes-

-you proceed to tie his hands together with a pre-knotted silk.

“...So..This is why you’ve been anxious.”

“W-Well, that’s..part of it..

What does she mean “part” of it?

You take your baggy clothes off, revealing black lingerie you hid in your bag, then straddle your tied up partner

“Oh. I..didn’t expect that.”

Drats, he’s still composed as hell! Time to start kicking things up a notch

Shino was not, in fact, composed at all

At least not internally; his heart couldn’t handle this sort of pleasant view

He didn’t think you would take this sort of initiative

You proceeded to leave hickeys all over his neck and chest; he’s always so covered up that it’s not like anyone besides you would see them anyways

You kissed your way down his stomach, and felt how hard he was

You pull down his pants and eagerly caress his dick, planting a small kiss on the head

Looking up at him, you drag your tongue up his shaft and swirl it around the head, slowly taking it in your mouth and sucking

She did not just do that-

While I’m tied up.

You noticed how he seemed to want to buck his hips the deeper you took him in your mouth

You looked up and noticed him turning a light shade of pink

You wondered if you could..

All of a sudden, Shino flinches

!? Did she just..s-start deepthroating me.?

He couldn’t help it; Shino brought his tied hands down and grabbed your head, thrusting his hips against your mouth

You heard his breathing get shaky, and all of a sudden you felt his hot load in the back of your throat

“! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

Shino looks down to see his girlfriend with tears streaming down her face, staring at him while she swallows what’s left of his cum

“Y-You..”

“Hey, Shino..”

You crawl on top of him, rubbing your pussy on his dick

“..Cum for me more..”

Oh my god, she’s completely turned on. It’s like she’s a totally different person..

You lean back and slip him inside you

You let out a moan, and you feel him throb inside you

Oh..he must like hearing me moan

You started to slowly pump yourself up and down

He started thrusting himself into you, wanting to pick up speed

..but you kind of felt like being a brat ✨

You stopped, then started grinding, swiveling your pelvis in circles

He seemed..irritated?

“So, you decided to tease me..”

All of a sudden you feel yourself fall backwards, and find Shino hunched over on top of you

Looking at the silk around his hands, he seems to have wanted to pry himself free a few times..it’s kind of..c-cute..

He kisses your neck, nipping you here and there out of frustration for not being able to grab you

You turn yourself around, pushing your ass against him in this huddled doggy position you both found yourself in

You can feel how warm he is, and notice how much his dick is twitching; you’re more than positive he wants to stick it back in

You slowly push yourself back onto his dick, mewling at the sensation

You can hear Shino release his breath above you, as if he was holding it

Noticing that his hands are right in front of your face, you grab the silk-

And pull his weight forward while you thrust your hips back

“Hn..! W-What..”

Did he just kinda moan??? ✨

You start quickening your pace, causing the man looming over your body to swell inside you

You slow down, and crawl out from under him, leaving his dick agitated

“Leaning over for so long probably isn’t very comfortable when you’re restrained like that, right?”

Shino sits up, a bit confused about what the fuck you’re talking about; He honestly wasn’t even thinking about it because of how good you felt

“I..suppose.”

You crawl over to him and wiggle yourself between his arms, straddling his lap

“This is better, don’t you think? Now I can kiss you all I want!”

“..marriage..”

“Hm? Did you say something Shino?”

“No. This is nice; I get to look at your cute facial expressions while you’re in my arms. I like it.”

..h-he still finds ways to embarrass me even in these situations;;

Shino chuckles to himself, seeing you turn a bit red

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours, progressively making it heavier and hotter

Without even realizing it, you find yourselves grinding on each other, you both getting slicker the longer it goes

You finally lift yourself up, and push yourself onto his throbbing dick

You both pant out of relief, and ease yourselves into a steady pace

You don’t even care about the fact that he’s thrusting himself into you, that you aren’t in as much control anymore

You both just really need to feel each other

“I can’t..resist anymore..Sorry, sweetheart.”

You feel Shino grab hold of your hips; you forgot that the silk hardly made an impact on your size differences

Then without warning, he slams himself deep into you, causing you to dig your nails into his back

You can’t help but cling onto him, grabbing a fist full of his hair

Shino groans into your neck, sucking and biting your skin

He feels you cum, your legs shaking

The sensation of your walls squeezing his dick is too much; his cum is so hot it feels like you’re melting on the inside

He came so much that it’s practically dripping out of you

You untie his hands, and he instantly holds you close to him.

“I’m surprised.”

“About?”

“You taking this sort of initiative. I didn’t expect it.”

“But you found out I was up to something before I even did anything, silly.”

“I didn’t know you’d do this though. But it was cute. I like seeing another side of you.”

With that, you both goof off and cuddle for a while; bath time can wait just a bit longer

I hope you guys enjoyed it! I might put up a poll to see which character out of my requests to do next, I don’t want to put out too many of the same character at once;;

Until next time! ✨

#headcanon #headcanons #x reader #shino aburame headcanons #shino aburame headcanon #shino headcanon #shino headcanons #shino x reader #shino aburame x reader #shino aburame #shino

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potter-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

George Weasley Dating Ravenclaw!Reader Would Include...

- George loves to take photos of you

- Like absolutely adores it

- His side of his dorm has at least ten different pics of the two of you taped to the walls

- Fred never misses an opportunity to taunt George for this

- “Jesus, George, you’d think you’re an obsessive stalker with the amount of photos you have of Y/n. Kinda of concerning…”

- George brings you home for Christmas break

- Molly adores you- like is way more excited to see you walking through the front door, rather than her actual children. “Y/n! Oh, Y/n, dear, you look beautiful! Come inside! Out of the cold you go- I’ve got a warm cup of tea waiting for you, dear.”

- Fred would walk in behind you rolling his eyes mumbling, “Good to see you too, birth giver. I missed you as well, love you too.”

- Pulling all nighters with him

- Some were for studying, some just to spend some more time with each other, and some because you two couldn’t seem to uh, ‘fall asleep’ or rather, keep your hands off one another

- If you didn’t know how to already, George would teach you how to play Quidditch

- You’re typically the little spoon and even though he’d never mention in aloud, he secretly loved when you were the big spoon

- When you first started dating, George’s friends would tease him for being with a Ravenclaw

- They classed you as a stereotypical Ravenclaw, before even speaking with you

- Fred reassured them they’d like you but Ron was skeptical

- Mostly because he couldn’t understand why a Ravenclaw was dating his brother

- Although you were a true Ravenclaw at heart, that didn’t mean you were a bookworm ‘nerd’ who only cared about school and had your nose to the sky

- Most Ravenclaws you knew were more honest that stuck up, you had a tendency to say exactly what you thought

- And George loved this

- He had never met a girl like you before- one who served it the teasing and flirtatious wilderness right back to him

- He’d plan extravagant jokes with his twin to try an woo you

- Your friends would giggle and whisper whenever George came around, all staring at you knowingly

- They had all placed bets on how long it would take George Weasley, the jokester Gryffindor, to ask you, the clever and competitive Ravenclaw, out on a date

- It only took about two weeks after that for him to make the first move

- After Potions class, George would walk with you in towards the Great Hall, complimenting you the entire way

- You two would sit together, much to your surprise and by the end of the meal, he would ask you out on a proper date for that weekend to Hogsmeade

- He’d buy magical eternal flowers at Hogsmeade on your first date

- Flirting doesn’t die down with George just because you’re a couple

- If anything, he becomes cheekier and touchier

- He isn’t huge on PDA, but he likes when you sit on his lap in the courtyard or either of your common rooms.

- PDA for the two of you is more hand holding, forehead kisses, arm around your shoulder, small pecks, tight hugs before class, etc.

- Snape had scolded the two of you more time than you could count “There will be no embracing of any sorts outside, or inside my class, Miss. Y/l/n and Mr. Weasley.” “Yes, professor. We’re sorry-” “No we’re-“ Having to drag George away before he gets you two into more trouble.

- He’d call you sweet names like; love, darling, princess, and angel (His favorite name to use in the bedroom.).

- But his absolute favorite nickname for you is “little Ravenclaw”

- He loves buying you maroon presents

- He likes to think he’s secretly converting you to a Gryffindor, but he knew you had too much pride for your house and would never fully switch to his side

- You two will play childish games like hide and seek around the castle during the weekends

- It’s more fun when you include your other friends

- But when it’s just you and George playing

- The game typically ends with the two of you half naked in an empty classroom

- Walks behind you up the stairs so he can pinch your butt “George- knock it off!” “But it’s so cute and I wanna touch it.” “Not now.”

“So you’re saying there will be a later, right?”

- Studying together

- Despite common assumption, George Weasley is exceptionally brilliant

- You two have competitions on who can score the highest mark

- George was usually a point or two away from you but it didn’t stop you from gloating

- “Ha, ha, Georgie. Take that! Now you owe me a back massage and a butterbeer this weekend!” “I can give you more than a backrub, darling.” “George!”

- Sneaking him into the Ravenclaw towers past curfew

- He loves that you are willing to break rules for him

- It exhilarating to you both

- You’re very close with his friends- especially Fred and Hermione

- Fred and George would convince you to help them with pranks, little at a time

- But soon enough

- You’d basically becoming a trio

- They’d find a way to drag you into planning and executing nearly all their pranks with them

- It made you extremely nervous at first

- You had never been in real trouble before, and it wasn’t something you desired

- But George would reassure you constantly “Love, you don’t have to help if you don’t want to, we won’t be upset. But if you do, I won’t let anything happen to you or let you get caught. I promise, darling.”

- And he never failed to keep his word

- Until one day

- There was one time, late winter of your final year

- Fred and George were readying to leave Hogwarts to open their shop, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and had invited you to join them

- You contemplated the thought for a week before deciding to finish off the end of your year, then move in with George and his brother once summer came

- The twins’ pranking antics had grown more intense since Umbridge arrived

- Everyone despised her- well except the Slytherin’s who she favored

- The twins’ landed themselves in detention with her on more than five occasions and they had enough

- Late one Saturday in February, Fred and George had enchanted a portal swamp outside Umbridge’s office door, a spell you had taught them

- Right as the swamp appeared, footsteps began to approach quickly from behind

- Fred darted left and George took off after him, both assuming you’d follow

- But panic hit and you ran in the opposite direction, smacking right into Filch, Umbridge emerging not long after from the other corridor

- You were caught red handed, Umbridge took the wand in your grip as enough evidence to prosecute you

- George had reached the end of the corridor when he turned around and realized you weren’t behind him but by the time he and Fred stealthily snuck back to Umbridge’s office

- The door was swinging shut

- And the once bubbling green swamp was gone

- Not long passed before George could hear your voice and his chest stiffened at once

- The twins hid behind a wall, until George ushered Fred off to monitor the hall leading towards their common room

- Ten or so minutes passed until the door squeaked open and you quickly rushed off, salty tears threatening to spill over your eyes

- George yanked you softly from behind a wall before you could make it up the first step of the shifting stairs

- You hissed in pain when his fingers unknowingly wrapped around your fresh wound “Ow, my hand- George it hurts.”

- His eyes would widen, then soften with comfort as he studies your hand “Darling, I’m so sorry. I should’ve taken the fall- I should’ve realized you weren’t following us and went back sooner. I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

- You’d cry, not because you were mad at him or blame him but because of the never ending burning sensation in your bloodied hand

- You’d reassure him and insist it was your own fault

“I froze, Georgie. I’m the only one to blame. I don’t know why I didn’t go the same way as you guys, I just got scared of getting caught… and now this happened cause I was dumb.” “You’re not dumb, darling, don’t say that. I promised to never let you get hurt because of one of our pranks and I broke that promise. Umbridge is a cold bitch, I can’t keep putting you in these risks situations and letting you get hurt.”

- He’d sneak you into his dorm that night

- None of his friends would oppose, especially after hearing about what happened

- Fred and Lee slept on the large couches in the common room so the two of you could have the night alone

- George is an amazing cuddling partner- like the best

- You two would lay in his bed together, snuggled under a stack of blankets

- He’d convince you to wear one of his Gryffindor shirts

- Then take a picture of you in it when you weren’t paying attention to tease you with

- “I’m going to show this to all your little Ravenclaw friends to show them that you’re really a Gryffindor!” “Am not! I’m a Ravenclaw-“ “I’m gonna put some Gryffindor inside of you tonight, princess.” “You dirty bastard! Don’t you say that in front of any of my friends, please, I’m begging you.” “I’m sure they already know, love. It’s not like they haven’t heard us before.”

- You would get annoyed beyond beliefs after being with George for years and your friends still confusing him with Fred, or assuming they were the same person

- You loved Fred, but you were in-love with George, and there were many differences between them besides your relationship status

- Fred was the friend who could cheer you up, listen to you rant, help you get revenge on a professor for poor marks, hangout with you, give you advice, and all the great qualities that a best friend should have

- But George Weasley

- George was all of the above and more

- He had a different thought process- slightly different mindset than his twin

- You loved the deep, intellectual conversations you could have with George

- One moment you two would be discussing the purpose of life and the origination of languages

- Then the next you’d be debating over the worst flavor of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans

“George, how you can you even argue this? You know vomit and rotten egg are the two worst flavors!” “Vomit, yes. Rotten eggs, no. I’d take that over earthworm. Now that one is bloody disgusting!”

- There was a connection- a magnetic pull that drew you and George together

- He understood you on a more personal level than any other person you knew

- There were secrets he’d share with you late at night that not even Fred knew

- Like how he wanted to be a Mediwizard up until his fourth year

- George would bring you books he’d read on break for you

- You two liked to start a book together right before break, then finish over break and talk about it once you returned to each other

- Fred would tease George relentlessly for reading over the holiday break “God, next thing I know you’re going to starting knitting sweaters with each other and painting your nails together.” “Jealous, Fred? A shame you can’t find an intelligent girl of your own but don’t be made that I have.”

- George will write you letters when you’re away for each other

- He’ll do cute little things like send a single dainty flower that he picked from his mom’s garden and seal it inside the envelope

- His favorite to gift you are lilacs- the smell reminds him of you and is comforting when you’re gone

- He’s always been a bit more in touch with his emotional side than his twin

- But you loved those differences

- You two hard a pretty serious relationship from the start but that didn’t mean you weren’t playful

- Both George and you knew you wanted to spend forever together the first time you walked through Hogsmeade together

- And neither of you wanted to waste anytime fooling around when you knew what you wanted

- George is a honest gentleman, always putting your needs first

- Even after you leave Hogwarts with the twins

- With all his busy work and the booming business and success of the shop, you assumed your time together would be spared

- It was in a way

- But George always put in the extra effort to keep the spark alive

- Before opening the shop, he’d usually try to set your alarm clock back three hours in hopes of you getting the extra sleep he knew you deserved

- Sometimes it worked, but other times you’d meet him in the shop at open with a smug smile on your face “Love, you should be asleep! You’re too clever, little Ravenclaw.” “You still call me that, even after all this time?” “You’ll always be my little Ravenclaw. I could never love another.”

- He’ll surprise you during work with random sweets, sentimental cards, picking you up lunch and a coffee/tea, and buying you flowers

- George can be extremely sweet when he wants to and for you, there is never a moment where he doesn’t

- The two of you would get married shortly after the second war ended, not that anyone was surprised.

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bastard-of-the-barrel · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, odd request but could you post the scene about where Kaz faints in the prison truck? I lost my copy of the book and I really wanted to read that scene today

The hinges held.

Another shout in Fjerdan, more footsteps. Then the crack of the reins and the cart surged forward, rumbling over the road. Inej let herself exhale. Her throat had gone completely dry.

Kaz took his place beside her. He shoved a hood over her head, and the musty smell filled her nostrils. He would put his own hood on next, then lock himself in. Easy enough, a cheap magician’s trick, and Kaz knew them all. His arm pressed along hers from shoulder to elbow as he locked the collar around his neck. Bodies shifted against Inej’s back and side, crowding up against her.

For now they were safe. But despite the rattle of the wagon’s wheels, Inej could tell Kaz’s breathing had got worse – shallow, rapid pants like an animal caught in a trap. It was a sound she’d never thought to hear from him.

It was because she was listening so closely that she knew the exact moment when Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the Barrel and the deadliest boy in Ketterdam, fainted.

---

The money Mister Hertzoon had left with Kaz and Jordie ran out the following week. Jordie tried to return his new coat, but the shop wouldn’t take it, and Kaz’s boots had clearly been worn.

When they brought the loan agreement Mister Hertzoon had signed to the bank, they found that – for all its official-looking seals – it was worthless paper. No one knew of Mister Hertzoon or his business partner.

They were evicted from the boarding house two days later, and had to find a bridge to sleep under, but were soon rousted by the stadwatch. After that, they wandered aimlessly until morning. Jordie insisted that they go back to the coffeehouse. They sat for a long time in the park across the street. When night came, and the watch began its rounds, Kaz and Jordie headed south, into the streets of the lower Barrel, where the police did not bother to patrol.

They slept beneath a set of stairs in an alley behind a tavern, tucked between a discarded stove and bags of kitchen refuse. No one bothered them that night, but the next they were discovered by a gang of boys who told them they were in Razorgull territory. They gave Jordie a thrashing and knocked Kaz into the canal, but not before they took his boots.

Jordie fished Kaz out of the water and gave him his dry coat.

“I’m hungry,” Kaz said.

“I’m not,” Jordie replied. And for some reason that had struck Kaz as funny, and they’d both started laughing. Jordie wrapped his arms around Kaz and said, “The city is winning so far. But you’ll see who wins in the end.”

The next morning, Jordie woke with a fever.

In years to come people would call the outbreak of firepox that struck Ketterdam the Queen’s Lady Plague, after the ship believed to have brought the contagion to the city. It hit the crowded slums of the Barrel hardest. Bodies piled up in the streets, and sickboats moved through the canals, using long shovels and hooks to tumble corpses onto their platforms and haul them out to the Reaper’s Barge for burning.

Kaz’s fever came on two days after Jordie’s. They had no money for medicine or a medik, so they huddled together in a pile of broken-up wooden boxes that they dubbed the Nest.

No one came to roust them. The gangs had all been laid low by disease.

When the fever reached full fire, Kaz dreamed he had returned to the farm, and when he knocked on the door, he saw Dream Jordie and Dream Kaz already there, sitting at the kitchen table. They peered at him through the window, but they wouldn’t let him in, so he wandered through the meadow, afraid to lie down in the tall grass.

When he woke, he couldn’t smell hay or clover or apples, only coalsmoke, and the spongy rotting vegetable stink of garbage. Jordie was lying next to him, staring at the sky. “Don’t leave me,” Kaz wanted to say, but he was too tired. So he laid his head on Jordie’s chest. It felt wrong already, cold and hard.

He thought he was dreaming when the bodymen rolled him onto the sickboat. He felt himself falling, and then he was caught in a tangle of bodies. He tried to scream, but he was too weak. They were everywhere, legs and arms and stiff bellies, rotting limbs and blue-lipped faces covered in firepox sores. He floated in and out of consciousness, unsure of what was real or fever dream as the flatboat moved out to sea. When they tumbled him into the shallows of the Reaper’s Barge, he somehow found the strength to cry out.

“I’m alive,” he shouted, as loud as he could. But he was so small, and the boat was already drifting back to harbour.

Kaz tried to pull Jordie from the water. His body was covered in the little blooming sores that gave the firepox its name, his skin white and bruised. Kaz thought of the little wind-up dog, of drinking hot chocolate on the bridge. He thought that heaven would look like the kitchen of the house on Zelverstraat and smell like hutspot cooking in the Hertzoons’ oven. He still had Saskia’s red ribbon. He could give it back to her. They would make candies out of quince paste. Margit would play the piano, and he could fall asleep by the fire. He closed his eyes and waited to die.

Kaz expected to wake in the next world, warm and safe, his belly full, Jordie beside him. Instead, he woke surrounded by corpses. He was lying in the shallows of the Reaper’s Barge, his clothes soaked through, skin wrinkled from the damp. Jordie’s body was beside him, barely recognisable, white and swollen with rot, floating on the surface like some kind of gruesome deep sea fish.

Kaz’s vision had cleared, and the rash had receded. His fever had broken. He’d forgotten his hunger, but he was thirsty enough that he thought he would go mad.

All that day and night, he waited in the pile of bodies, looking out at the harbour, hoping the flatboat would return. They had to come to set the fires that would burn the corpses, but when? Did the bodymen collect every day? Every other day? He was weak and dehydrated. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. The coast seemed so far away, and he knew he was too weak to swim the distance. He had survived the fever, but he might well die out here on the Reaper’s Barge. Did he care? There was nothing waiting for him in the city except more hunger and dark alleys and the damp of the canals. Even as he thought it, he knew it wasn’t true. Vengeance was waiting, vengeance for Jordie and maybe for himself, too. But he would have to go to meet it.

When night came, and the tide changed direction, Kaz forced himself to lay hands on Jordie’s body. He was too frail to swim on his own, but with Jordie’s help, he could float. He held tight to his brother and kicked towards the lights of Ketterdam. Together, they drifted, Jordie’s distended body acting as a raft. Kaz kept kicking, trying not to think of his brother, of the taut, bloated feel of Jordie’s flesh beneath his hands; he tried not to think of anything but the rhythm of his legs moving through the sea. He’d heard there were sharks in these waters, but he knew they wouldn’t touch him. He was a monster now, too.

He kept kicking, and when dawn came, he looked up to find himself at the east end of the Lid. The harbour was nearly deserted; the plague had caused shipping in and out of Kerch to grind to a halt.

The last hundred yards were hard. The tide had turned once more, and it was working against him. But Kaz had hope now, hope and fury, twin flames burning inside him. They guided him to the dock and up the ladder. When he reached the top, he flopped down on his back on the wooden slats, then forced himself to roll over. Jordie’s body was caught in the current, bumping against the pylon below. His eyes were still open, and for a moment, Kaz thought his brother was staring back at him. But Jordie didn’t speak, he didn’t blink, his gaze didn’t shift as the tide dragged him free of the pylon and began to carry him out to sea.

I should close his eyes, thought Kaz. But he knew if he climbed down the ladder and waded back into the sea, he would never find his way out again. He’d simply let himself drown, and that wasn’t possible any more. He had to live. Someone had to pay.

---

In the prison wagon, Kaz woke to a sharp jab against his thigh. He was ice cold and in darkness. There were bodies all around him, pressing against his back, his sides. He was drowning in corpses.

“Kaz.” A whisper.

He shuddered.

Another jab to his thigh.

“Kaz.” Inej’s voice. He managed a deep breath through his nose. He felt her pull away from him. Somehow, in the cramped confines of the wagon, she managed to give him space. His heart was pounding.

“Keep talking,” he rasped.

“What?”

“Just keep talking.”

“We’re passing through the prison gate. We made it past the first two checkpoints.”

That brought him fully to his senses. They’d gone through two checkpoints. That meant they’d been counted. Someone had opened that door – not once but twice – maybe even laid hands on him, and he hadn’t woken. He could have been robbed, killed. He’d imagined his death a thousand ways, but never sleeping through it.

He forced himself to breathe deeply, despite the smell of bodies. He’d kept his gloves on, something the guards might have easily taken note of, and a frustrating concession to his weakness, but if he hadn’t, he felt fairly sure he’d have gone completely mad.

Behind him, he could hear the other prisoners murmuring to one another in different languages. Despite the fears the darkness woke in him, he gave thanks for it. He could only hope that the rest of his crew, hooded and burdened by their own anxiety, hadn’t noticed anything strange about his behaviour. He’d been sluggish, slow to react when they’d ambushed the wagon, but that was all, and he could make up some excuse to account for it.

He hated that Inej had seen him this way, that anyone had, but on the heels of that thought came another: Better it should be her. In his bones, he knew that she would never speak of it to anyone, that she would never use this knowledge against him. She relied on his reputation. She wouldn’t want him to look weak. But there was more to it than that, wasn’t there? Inej would never betray him. He knew it. Kaz felt ill. Though he’d trusted her with his life countless times, it felt much more frightening to trust her with this shame.

The wagon came to a halt. The bolt slid back, and the doors flew open.

#six of crows #kaz brekker #leigh bardugo #grishaverse

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baubub · 4 years ago

Text

Mornings with Dr. Reid

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Word count: 1134

Summary: Reader and Spencer spend the morning together.

I awoke to none other than my genius beside me. Not an alarm waking me up but the gentle light coming through the curtains. Looking next to me, gazing at his features I moved a caramel lock of hair away from his eyes. I couldn't help but soak in how amazing he looked. No crease between his brows, frown on his lips, or concentration in his eyes, just a peaceful look that I knew would only exist when he slept. I traced down his adorable button nose, perfect cupid’s bow that adorned his lips, and jaw that could get glass. I pulled my hand away resting it on his chest as he stirred in his sleep while simultaneously pulling me closer to him.

These were the moments I enjoyed most with spencer. no chasing serial killers, no telling families their loved one was killed, or any of the other things we dealt with at work. Right now it was just him and I absorbing each other's warmth. Laying my head on his chest I listened to his heart beat, thinking how incredibly lucky I was to be loved by Spencer. That he let me love him. How did we get so lucky to find eachother in this crazy stupid world? If I asked him he would probably give me some statistics about compatibility or something which I would easily listen to.

I slowly got up, pulling his arms from around me to lay on the bed. He groaned,

“Leaving me so early?” His voice was entirely too deep for his normal self. But who was I to deny how sexy his morning voice was?

“I was just going to get you coffee, darling,” I said while sitting down next to him, running a hand through his messy curls.

“Mhmm, that feels so nice,” he grinned. I placed a kiss on his nose.

“So does that,” he said as he grabbed me and pulled me down to him, wrapping his long arms around me. I squealed with glee as he peppered kisses across my face while tickling my sides.

“Dr. Reid!” I squeaked.

“Oh don’t Dr. Reid me this early or i’ll have to do something about it,” he said with a hint of mischief in his eye. I quickly got up, racing to our kitchen to retrieve our favorite mugs. I could hear the pitter patter of his footsteps chasing after me.

“Where are you going young lady?” He questioned with a hand on his hip. He looked too good to just have woken up. clad with just his boxers I could see his perfectly toned body down to all his little beauty marks that marked it.

“Like I said I was making you coffee until you rudely attacked me!” I said smirking while turning around to start making a pot of coffee.

“Attacked you?”

I pretended to hold a phone to my ear “Yes officer this man just appeared in my apartment and started a tickling attack on me! Very rude I know, so why am I making him coffee?”

“Officer, I would like to answer that question for you,” Spencer said, taking the fake receiver of my hand and putting it up to his ear. “Well you see my amazing partner here just adores me so, can’t help but love me I think,”

“It’s true. I do love him officer,``I spoke into my hand. We looked at eachother, love seeping through our eyes and pouring into each other.

“I love him,” I whispered into my hand.

“I love you too, angel,” He whispered to me. I leaned into him, running the back of hand across his cheek while putting the other on his chest. His hands landed on my waist pulling me closer, as I brushed my lips across his I felt him intake a breath, like we hadn’t kissed a million times before.

“You have morning breath, love,” He whispered into my mouth. I shoved him away,

“Ugh, you ruin everything!” I said while turning back to the now ready coffee pot. Pouring some into our mugs and putting sugar in Spencer’s and cream and sugar in mine, I turned back around and handed him his mug.

“Here Mr. Perfect,” I said with a smirk, ignoring his grabby hands and making my way to the couch.

“I have morning breath too, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” He said sitting next to me pulling me onto his lap.

“Well now we have coffee breath together,” I smiled at him. He just looked at me with his big hazel eyes. Just looking at me like I was everything.

“You’re my everything, you know that?” He said to me.

”Oh baby, you’re mine too. I love you so much, all the way to Neptune and back a thousand times over,” I said to him as I cupped his cheek. He leaned into my touch, eyes closing in the process.

“I wish we could do this every morning,” He whispered.

“Just think, when we’re all old and wrinkly and we live in our little cottage by the sea we can do this all the time,” I said to him.

“What about our kids?” He asked.

“They’ll be in college or something they won’t care what their old parents are doing,” I responded.

“I can’t wait until we have our own kids,”

“Spence, you know we’re only 25. We have our whole lives ahead of us. Let's focus on the BAU first, okay?”

“You’re right I just can’t wait until we have a family,”

“Me too,” I said as I leaned in to kiss him. His coffee breath met mine as our lips locked. I could feel his love pouring into me through the kiss. He jumped when we heard one of our phones ring.

“Well there goes our morning, baby,” I said pressing my forehead to his.

“It’s okay, we have plenty more waiting for us in our cottage,” He said with a smile that plastered across his face.

“Let’s go save some people okay, love?”

“You bet,” I said back to him as I found my phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi my ray of sunshine I unfortunately need you and Spence to come in for a case. It’s pretty bad.” She said with a sad tone in her voice.

“Okay Penny, I’ll see you soon lovebug,”

“Pen says it's a bad one,” I said to Spencer as we both went into our room to get ready for whatever case was waiting for us at the BAU.

“We can do this angel, as long as we have each other we can always do it,” He exclaimed as he scooped me up into his arms in a giant hug.

“Let’s go kick some butt!” I yelled. Spencer laughed.

“Haha okay baby,” He smirked.

#spencer reid x reader #dr reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer x y/n #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds fluff #reid fic #spencer reid fic

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iflostreturntosteverogers · 4 years ago

Text

If You Love Her

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, EraserMic, Ejiriou Kirishima, Hitoshi Shinsou, Kazuya Yamazaki (OMC), Hanta Sero (Mentioned), Mina Ashido (Mentioned), Denki Kaminari (Mentioned), Izuku Midoriya (Mentioned), Shouto Todoroki (Mentioned)

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, Grief, Little Smidge of Fluff

Word Count: 2278

Beta: @sorenmarie87

A/N: Lyrics used from the song If You Love Her by Forest Blakk

Masterlist

Katsuki hums as he prepares breakfast for the two of you. You lean against the doorframe admiring him in his hero costume. “Just gonna stand there, Firework? Or are you going to come kiss me good morning?” He smirks over his shoulder at you. You push off the door frame and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He sits his knife down and turns in your arms, cupping your face and kissing you. “You know you could’ve slept in right? UA is on holiday.” You shrug.

“I couldn’t sleep. I’m a little anxious this morning for some reason. Plus, I wanted to see you before you left for patrol.” Katsuki squeezes you hard before letting you go and turning back to his task. You grab your favorite mug and start to pour yourself a cup of coffee when his voice stops you.

“Don’t drink coffee if you’re anxious. You know it makes your heart race. There’s tea in the cabinet. Do you want me to stay home with you today?”

“Thank you. No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine, Kat, I promise.” You reach up on your tiptoes for the tea on the top shelf. You had a sneaking suspicion that Katsuki liked to place things you used regularly up out of your reach so he could grab it for you. He chuckles and grabs the tin, placing it in your hands. “Thanks.”

“Welcome, babe. Breakfast is ready, but I’ve gotta take mine to go. I’m running late for a meeting with Deku, Shouto, and Kirishima before our patrols.”

“Be safe, Kat. Come home to me.” He leans down to kiss you and presses your foreheads together.

“I will. I promise.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most, Firework. I’ll be home for dinner.”

The envelope in his pocket feels like lead as he sits through the shitty meeting Deku is leading. The truth is he’d woken up with anxiety too. Terrified about the future and what would happen to you if he was gone and wasn’t there to protect and love you anymore. It’s not like hero work was exactly safe. There was always that risk. They had already lost friends and comforted significant others at burials. Kirishima nudges his leg. “Hey, man. You good?” Katsuki looks around and realizes the meeting room has emptied, leaving him and his best friend alone.

“Just thinking about Denki and Shinsou. And Sero and Mina.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s been what about a year since Sero was killed?”

“Mhm and only a few months since Denki. Fuck, man. Feels like forever ago and yesterday at the same time.” Kirishima’s eyes fill with sadness thinking about their fallen friends.

“Yeah. Listen, Kiri. I need you to do something for me.” He pulls the envelope from his pocket and holds it out to him. “If I- if I ever die, I need you to take care of her for me. Make sure she lives her life, man. Don’t let her shut down and her light die. She’s too bright for that, man. You protect her. You have to help her keep going. Make sure she falls in love again. And when she does, you give him this.” Katsuki’s voice cracks, thick with emotion.

“Katsuki, I-”

“Promise me, Ejiriou.” Katsuki shoves it at him. Eyes desperate and pleading.

“Of course, Katsuki. I promise.” He pulls Katsuki into a hug, a move that would’ve earned him an explosion to the face years ago. They stay like that until Katsuki’s calm and in control again.

“Let’s get out of here. I need to blow something up.” They both let out watery laughs and stand.

“You know everything’s gonna be fine, right?” Kirishima places his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking about how wrecked Mina and Shinsou were. Hell, they still are. We’ve done our best to be there for them but Shinsou shut down and pushed us away completely. He blocked everyone’s numbers, except Y/N, but she’s his sister. Mina tries, but we all know she can’t even look at us anymore, because she just sees the one who’s missing. I have to make sure someone takes care of her. For my peace of mind.”

“That makes sense.” They slip their comms in their ears and leave the conference room. Kirishima stops by his desk to store the letter while Katsuki texts you. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

Their patrol goes slowly. Katsuki just wants to get home to you. It’s hot as hell and quiet on the villain front. The only thing they’d done was rescue that dumb cat from a tree. “Dude, one more quiet block and I’m calling it a day.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I think we can let the sidekicks handle the last couple hours without us.”

You stand at the kitchen counter chopping vegetables for stir fry. The news drones on in the background as you make dinner. Katsuki had checked in multiple times and said his day was boring and long, so you figured you’d make his favorite food and you guys could have a movie night. Your phone starts buzzing in your pocket, but as you reach for it someone bangs on the door. “Good grief.” You lay the knife aside and wipe your hands on a towel. “I’m coming.” The banging continues, growing more frantic. “Jesus, I’m coming. Chill.”

Time slows in that moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Katsuki’s picture on the news screen and turn. The doorknob jiggles as the person gives up on knocking and resorts to their key or picking the lock you don’t know. “Pro Hero Dynamight was killed moments ago in an attack. He and his partner, Red Riot, were on their way back to their agency when they were ambushed by a group of villains.” You stop dead in your tracks. The door opens. “Dynamight was dead by the time sidekicks and backup arrived. Red Riot has been rushed to the hospital. Dynamight was ranked number two behind Pro Hero Deku and leaves behind a wife. Japan thanks you for your sacrifice.” Your knees buckle, but arms wrap around you, keeping you from collapsing completely. Katsuki was dead.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” A familiar deep voice rumbles in your ear. Aizawa holds you close as you sob into his chest.

“Daddy, he’s gone. Katsuki’s gone. I can’t do this without him. I can’t!” You cry and scream on the floor in your father’s arms. Hizashi arrives moments later, hitting his knees and wrapping you both up.

Everything is a blur after that. People are in and out of your house. Arms hold you, but they’re the wrong ones. Someone shoved a cup of tea into your hands that went cold a long time ago. You shiver at the cold emptiness that has seeped into your bones. Hizashi wraps a blanket around your shoulders and kisses your forehead. You don’t acknowledge him nor Aizawa when he tries to coax you into eating some food. “Baby, please just drink some water then.”

You fall asleep on the couch late into the night, because you can’t bear to sleep in your bed without him. Your dads sleep on the couch opposite you. They’re curled protectively around each other, having been reminded once again that time is short and how lucky they’ve been.

Katsuki’s service is beautiful. People from all over the country come to say goodbye. Your dads hold your hands, while Kirishima, Deku, and Todoroki speak about their friend. It takes all your strength to stand at that podium. “Most of Japan knows Katsuki as Pro Hero Dynamight. The explosive, sometimes crass hero who never backed down whether in battle or simply in the way he spoke. I knew him as the love of my life. He never held back in loving me. He put things on top shelves that I couldn’t reach just so he could get them down and then kiss me. He loved to cook and has made breakfast for me every single morning since we began dating our second year. Katsuki was incredibly caring, even if he wouldn’t show anyone. I love you more, Katsuki. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live without you.” You break down as you address your lost love. Hizashi realizes you won’t be able to move on your own and walks up to you.

“Come on, baby. Come back and sit down. You did so well.” He places his hands on your shoulders.

“I can’t, Papa. I can’t do this.” Tears flow freely down your face as you grip the podium.

“You can. One step at a time.” You let go and lean against him as he leads you back to your seat. The service concludes just after sunset. Fireworks fill the sky as tribute to the explosive hero.

Kirishima sits at a table in the cafe, enjoying the beautiful weather and cherry blossoms. You make your way over to him. “Thanks for coming, Kiri.” He stands and pulls you into a crushing hug.

“Of course I came! How are you? You look great!”

“Thank you. I’m doing good.” You smile and he pulls your chair out for you. “I actually asked you here for a reason. I-uh, I’ve met someone. His name is Kazuya. Kazuya Yamazaki. He works at UA teaching Hero Ethics. He’s incredibly sweet and caring. He’s compassionate and understanding. He’s not Katsuki, but I love him. I miss Katsuki so much, Kiri. I still love him. I’ll never stop loving him.” Tears come to your eyes when you mention your late husband. Kirishima smiles.

“Sweetheart, that’s awesome. Katsuki wanted you to live life after he was gone. He wanted you to find love again and be happy. He made me promise that I’d take care of you and make sure you lived and moved on. He’d be so proud of you.” He hands you a napkin to wipe your tears away and chuckles. “Do I get to meet him?”

“That makes me feel better. And yes, you can. We can do dinner at my house this week and I’ll introduce the two of you. Until then, let’s order some food. I’m starving.”

You order and catch up with each other. When you start to leave he hands you an envelope. “Give this to him.” You look down at it. Written on the front is “To the Extra that loves her after I’m gone” in Katsuki’s handwriting. You hug it to you.

“I will.”

You close your car door and take a deep breath. Kazuya makes his way over to you and the two of you walk silently to Katsuki’s monument. “I wanted you to come here for a reason. Today at lunch Kirishima gave me this.” You show him the letter in your hands. “It only felt appropriate for it to be read here.” He takes the letter from you and you both sit in the grass with your backs against the cold marble. You lean your head over onto his shoulder as he reads.

“To the Extra that loves her after I’m gone. Extra?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, “that’s just how Katsuki was. Keep going.”

“If you’re reading this shit then I must be gone, but it also means that she’s found happiness and love again. That’s all I want for her. She deserves the world. But if you’re going to love her there’s some things you should know. If she gives you her heart, don't you break it. Let your arms be a place she feels safe in. She's the best thing that you'll ever have. She always has trouble falling asleep, and she likes to cuddle while under the sheets. She loves Pop songs and dancing and bad trash TV. There's still a few other things. She loves love notes and babies. And likes giving gifts. Has a hard time accepting a good compliment. She loves her whole family and all of her friends. On days when it feels like the whole world might cave in, stand side by side and you'll make it. She's the best thing that you'll ever have. She'll love you if you love her like that. Kiss her with passion as much as you can. Run your hands through her hair whenever she's sad. And when she doesn't notice how pretty she is. Tell her over and over, so she never forgets. Make her breakfast every morning, because she hates mornings and it makes her happy. Don’t let her drink coffee, it just makes her anxious. Buy her flowers and candy and those dumb stuffed animals she loves so much. Make her smile every chance you get because it is the most beautiful thing in the world. Love her. Love her more than anything else in the world. Don’t let her be sad over me. Make sure she shines. Her light is so bright and warm. Take care of her for me. -Katsuki Bakugou”

You wipe tears from your cheeks. “Oh, Katsuki.” Kazuya wraps his arm around you and lets you cry on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, sweetheart. There’s no reason to be sorry. He was your first love, your husband. You are allowed to still love him and to still be grieving him. I know there’s room in your heart for both of us.”

“Thank you. Even after ten years, it still hurts and I still miss him.”

“And that’s okay. Why don’t we go to the market and buy some flowers, so we can freshen up his arrangement? And then we can go home and you can tell me more about him.”

“That sounds great.”

Tags: @fictionalabyss, @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers

#bnha katsuki x reader #Katsuki Bakugou #Angst #my hero academia #fluff #sad #kirishima

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yemilnisu · 4 years ago

Note

I feel you too! when I’m on a road trip, my mind keeps on wandering 🙋🏻‍♀️

Can I request for Iwa? I miss this guy so much 🤧 Hmm.. where his gf is asking him a lot of questions because she saw him with a girl and it bothered her, Iwa became annoyed and it lead to a fight. U can change the scenario if u want hehehe sucker for angst to fluff here. Thank you!

Have a safe trip too!

nisu entries:

hi, bub! I apologize for the late response. I changed it a bit because I’m an idiot and taught that in the timeskip this was Iwa’s job ksjsjs I hope you’ll still enjoy this :>

DOUBT

Synopsis: there’s always something that will make you question your faith to your partner but the question is would the both of you work it out or break it off?

Pairing: gym instructor!iwaizumi x fem!reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Having a professional gym instructor as your boyfriend is fun. You get to go to the gym as much as you’d like and you can stay as long as you’d like and you also get a hot instructor to guide you with no fees needed, just give him all your love and affection afterwards and it’s all good.

But there’s always something that you hate about his job. All these girls can take advances towards your boyfriend. Especially this new girl that seems to take her advances to the next level and you watched as your boyfriend seems to enjoy his time with her.

The girl glanced at your direction, scanned you from head-to-toe and leaned towards your boyfriend’s ear and whispered something. The lad seems to become a little flustered for the reason that his cheeks flushed red then he peered to your direction, when you the two of you made eye contact, he weirdly avoided your gaze.

You waited patiently for this last session of his to finish, either listening to some music or simply scrolling through your feed but your mind was wandering somewhere else, whether what the girl’s relationship with your boyfriend was or what they were talking about earlier and right now. You trust your boyfriend with all your heart but the way his cheeks grew the hue of pink, made you question some things...

When the two of you got home, you contemplated on whether you’re going to ask him or not. Thinking he might get mad because that just means that you don’t trust him the same way he does.

But you can’t help it the memory of him blushing because of some other girl seriously made an impact to you. If he doesn’t love you anymore and find other girls attractive, you want to hear it from him.

“Uh, Hajime, who is she?” you asked trying not to sound like the ‘possessive’ girlfriend. You knew that it was his job and that was his client but you just can’t help to hear what she was to him.

“What do you mean?” he replied and quickly putting his attention back to what he was doing. He was arranging his schedule for tomorrow and he needed to finish it as soon as possible because a lot of people wanted to have a training session with him.

“The girl earlier...” you muttered under your breath as you sink into the couch, fidgeting with the hem of your shorts.

Iwaizumi’s gaze didn’t left the screen of his computer when he sighed, “you need to be a little more specific.” He knows you were beating around the bush and in that moment he was a bit irritated about it. Can’t you go straight to the point and tell him what’s on your mind? He’s a little busy you know? He really wanted to finish this ASAP.

You peered at your boyfriend and he side-eyed you, waiting for your response. “The one wearing the cyan sports wear,” you lisped.

“You mean Irina?” he admonished. “She’s the new client. Why?”

“And? Is- is that all? I mean- how would you describe her...?” you stuttered out as you swallow your nervousness to what his answer might be down your throat.

“She’s kinda cool I guess? She’s the funniest client I had,” he gushed. You were about to say something but the ringing of his phone cut you off. He looked at the caller id and answered the phone. “Hello, Irina?”

Iwaizumi stared at you for a second before standing up and walking to the balcony of your shared apartment.

You gawked at his back while he hold his phone close to his ear. Why doesn’t he want you to hear their conversation? Is it that personal? He said she was just his client but why would he be talking about private matters with her? Did he lie to you? Why would he lie to you?

You came back to your senses when he turned around to look at you, you avoided his gaze and stood up to walk to the bedroom. It was 10 pm so you decided to sleep already. You knew he would stay up until late at night arranging his schedule because that’s just how well known he his in this field.

An hour already passed by but you were still awake. Shifting your position every so often, trying to find yourself a comfortable position. But it was not that you’re not comfortable, the bed was soft, the blanket wrapped around you in such a cozy manner and the air conditioner was at the right temperature. Everything was perfect but those were not the reason to your problem, to why you can’t sleep. The problem was your constant overthinking about what happened and what Iwaizumi said earlier.

He said she was cool? And even funny? When a person finds someone funny they’ll get attached to them right? So does that mean sooner or later, he’ll get attached to her? What about you? What will happen to your relationship?

You wanted to talk to him but doing so might be his chance to break up with you. You felt hot tears stream down your cheeks and you slowly drifted into slumber.

When you woke up, the other side of the bed was already empty. You didn’t see him sleep beside you nor wake up beside him, it made your heart ache. Your guess is that he already left for work. You were disappointed, did he really forgot what day it is?

When you lift the covers off of you and placed your feet at the floor, the usual cold, hard floor felt soft. You caught sight a trail that is made of red flower petals. When and how did those petals come from? Did you slept at the wrong house?

You followed the trail trying to avoid stepping on anymore petals even though it was soft and the sensation of the sole of your feet with the mushy petals was adequate, you felt bad for stepping on them.

When you reached the end of the trail you were at the living room. There was fairy lights everywhere and the coffee table was full of snacks and sweets you love. There was also a fort made out of blankets and pillow, it looked extremely comfortable that you wanted to lay on them right that instant but there was still a lot of questions on your mind. Who made them?

You felt a presence behind you and you slowly turned around. There stood the culprit holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Happy anniversary!” Your boyfriend beamed. He gave you the bouquet and you confusingly accepted them.

“I thought you forgot- how did you even get them? These are so rare,” you were completely astound as how he got the flowers you were holding. You leaned forward to sniff the bouquet and the aroma from it lingers through your nostrils was so relaxing.

“How could I forget? I spent all night trying to move all the schedules I had today,” he grumbled but he wasn’t mad about having to move them, he was mad he didn’t spend anytime with you yesterday. “I had some help from Irina,” he observed your reaction when he mentioned that name once again.

He knew you were significantly vigilant about the girl. He knew how extra fidgety you were last night and how you sunk into the couch when you asked about her but he can’t tell you anything or it will ruin the surprise. “You see, it turns out that she owns a flower shop and to my luck they have the flowers you adores so much,” he explained.

“Oh? I didn’t know talking about flowers can make you flustered?” you bleated. Iwaizumi was confused for a second but it quickly turned into a smirk.

“Oh, so you were watching,” he snickered. It wasn’t his intention to make you jealous but he’s getting so much amusement from it. He wanted to tease you a little more but he didn’t because he knows that there’s a 50 percent chance it will turn into an argument and he didn’t want to risk it, he didn’t want to ruin you guys’ anniversary.

You bit your bottom lip as you just exposed yourself. Your heart was pounding out of your chest when he answered, “Who wouldn’t? When you’re talking about the person you love.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and tried to observe his expression.

“Yes, dummy. We were talking about you,” he bloated. You can feel the side of your lips arc upwards but you stop it before your boyfriend notices. “She said how lucky I was to have you and how extremely patient you were because you waited for our session to finish. She even said to never let you go because you were the type of girl that is one of a kind,” he elaborated.

You can see that he was sincere. Iwaizumi was never the type of guy to give you long paragraphs or tell you long speeches of how much he loves, he thought that those things are just too cringe for his liking and you completely understood. Even though he wasn’t the type to get cheesy with you he never fails to show how much he loves you.

Like he’ll try to fix his schedule just so he can pick you up and drop you off work, even though you have told him countless of times to not do that, he’s still doing it well you can’t really talk him out of things when he sets his mind to. And when he canceled all of his session for two whole days just so he can take care of you because you weren’t feeling well. That’s how the Hajime Iwaizumi shows affection, your Hajime Iwaizumi.

“And I don’t plan to. I’ll never ever let go of you, Y/n,” he continued, staring deep into your eyes and slowly leaning forward.

“You’re just saying that,” you huffed and shoved him the bouquet. You were completely messing with him. The look on his face when you pushed him away was priceless. His eyes wide open from your sudden rejected and lips slightly parted.

Before you can even take a step away from him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer by the waist. You always knew how to tease him and Iwaizumi doesn’t mind, he doesn’t mind being teased by you. He found it kinda hot, how you can easily piss him off just because rejected his kiss or his hug. Only you have that kind of power and affect on him. “I don’t think so, princess,” he murmured, his voice deep and raspy. He leaned towards your face and kissed you slowly and with so much affection.

This time you let yourself smile. Who knew even after years of dating Iwaizumi never fails to make the butterflies in your stomach go feral.

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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years ago

Text

the great trial part six

summary: This was meant to be the easy part. The part filled with brightness and love. The war was over and you had the love of your life all to yourself. No more Baatar, no more secrecy and no more lies. But with the calm comes the realization as all the adrenaline finally leaves you. Now you know, this is the hard part.

a/n: you can really tell I needed to be held while writing this. Thank you @medeliadracon for being the best editor/beta reader ever

word count: 7.9k

3. Tell your partner why you love them.

Spring is near its end, the days have grown hotter as the sun beats down on the metal city. And with the end of spring comes a special day, your birthday. In the last few years, it was nothing big, Kuvira would usually promise you something great one day like an elegant necklace or first edition books. Those three birthdays spent with her felt strange and hollow. You knew each time she got so caught up in it all that she forgot. Two days before your last birthday you even heard Bolin remind her.

And whilst she's no longer constantly busy with the task of uniting the Empire, you didn’t think she’d remember. You also didn’t expect the guests that arrived later that fateful day.

When you wake up, feeling slightly excited about the day, you wake to an empty bed. At first, that familiar feeling of panic (smaller than any of the others before) tightens around your chest until your gaze drifts to the open door. The morning light shines through the sheer curtains you had installed in the living room and casts Kuvira in an angelic glow.

Her dark hair has been braided, the style reminds you of the day you met. She’s sporting a pair of shorts and a large sleep shirt of yours (it used to be your dad's) along with a pair of the knitted socks you got for Winter Solstice. You bite your lip at the sight as your heart slowly begins to beat at its normal pace again.

Slowly sitting up you stay in bed with the blankets covering your lower half as you grab her pillow and hug it. Your chin rests on top of it as you watch your lover make you breakfast. Even if she doesn’t remember, this is already better than your last three birthdays.

You don’t know how long you sit there and dreamily watch her but you do know that when she finally catches your gaze, most of whatever she’s prepared has been set on a tray. “You're meant to be asleep,” she says in defeat.

You bite your lip as your smile widens at her words. She grabs the glass of mango juice she was in the middle of filling when she finally felt your eyes drilling holes into her backside and places it on the tray with everything else.

Kuvira grabs the metal tray by the handles and carefully walks over to your bed. You place her pillow down and scoot over until your back hits the headboard. You help her set the tray down, not wanting to stain the sheets if anything were to spill. Spirits, you want to cry, not because of anything bad, but simply because you can tell how much effort and time was put into the meal at hand.

There’s a stack of apple pancakes with a cinnamon mixture drizzled on top, the pad of butter is half melted and you notice the little pitcher of syrup set beside it. There’s a small bowl of chopped fruit along with a few pieces of perfectly cooked crispy bacon. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Gulping you look into her eyes and say “you surprised me.” Slowly, afraid of knocking over the tray you pull her close so you can softly kiss her. Your hand is on her shoulder as hers are holding her up on either side of your legs. She’s leaning over the tray as she kisses you back with such gentleness that it makes your heart clench at the love you're currently feeling.

Kuvira reluctantly pulls away, ever since that night a month ago that ended with you sobbing she’s tried to keep either of you from getting carried away. She wants you so bad, but it’s not time, and she won’t risk the delicate balance that the two of you have recently found.

“Happy birthday.” Tears well up at her words as you let out a wet chuckle. Every little problem has momentarily vanished in this sweet moment. She reaches her hand up to gently wipe at the tears, if not for your smile she’d be worried that you were upset.

“Thank you….” You look down at the meal before you as you pick up the fork laid out on a napkin. “This looks amazing, Kuvira.”

You eat in peaceful silence and Kuvira moves around so she’s sitting beside you and has her chin resting on your shoulder with her arms wrapped around you, your back pressed against her chest. The pancakes are heavenly and you thank whatever force compelled Kuvira to start cooking because this is the best thing you’ve ever eaten.

“Do you want a bite?” You cut a piece off for her and lift your fork. She shakes her head.

“It’s for you.”

“But have you eaten anything yet?”

“No, but I’ll eat something after.” You raise your fork to her lips anyways, and she sighs before opening her mouth. It’s weird feeding her but you kind of like it, once she bites the piece off you lower the fork you watch her reaction. You smirk when she groans at the taste and before you know it she’s reaching for your fork again. “Hey wait!”

“That’s amazing and I made it, so I deserve more!”

“It’s my birthday breakfast!” You're both grinning from ear to ear as she tries to take the fork from you. There’s a dip in the bed as you both continue to struggle over it, she’s beginning to win and there’s this smug look on her features.

Suddenly her eyes widen as she looks behind you but before either of you can stop whatever it is she sees the sound of Lily gobbling said pancakes up fills the room. Turning slightly so you’re no longer facing Kuvira you see that the plate has been licked clean as Lily stares at you both, her tail viciously wagging back and forth.

“Well it looks like neither of us is gonna eat them,” you say, it’s still for a moment before you laugh and Kuvira joins you. Perhaps some other day you would have scolded her but right now you're too happy to care.

You split the bowl of fruit and bacon between the two of you and make Lily lay on the ground to keep her from stealing anything else. Her long snout is raised in the air as she sniffs the bacon that you feed Kuvira.

“What do you want to do today?” She leans back a bit and loosens her hold around your waist. You bite your lip as you try to think something up, growing up your parents would make a picnic and take you across the street to your favorite place on earth where you’d eat amongst the flowers and spend the day basking in the sun.

Unfortunately with your house arrest that isn’t possible. Someday you’d like to spend it that way again but with Kuvira there as well and Lily napping in the sun beside you all. But today, after everything, you just want it to be as peaceful and relaxing as it possibly can.

“I just wanna listen to the radio and cuddle you.” Kuvira warms at your words, that’s a plan she can get behind. So you both force yourselves out of bed and place the tray in the kitchen. You turn the radio on as Kuvira lays down on the couch, turning the dial so the volume is lowered a few notches you climb onto the couch and lay between her legs. Resting your head on her chest, you sigh happily when her arms wrap around you.

The afternoon is peaceful and sometimes one of you breaks the silence to say something in hushed voices. The windows and garden door are open, which allows a cool breeze to flow through the room and graze your skin. You're just about to fall asleep when someone repeatedly knocks on your door.

“The fuck?” Kuvira groans out. She had fallen asleep some time ago and is being rudely awoken to the knocking. Your parents aren’t meant to come over until dinner time like Kuvira and your father planned, and from what she can tell it’s only midday.

Reluctantly you extract yourself from Kuvira’s hold and head over to the front door, by now the knocking has thankfully stopped. Sleepily rubbing your eye with one hand and you open the door with the other. Once the person on the other side catches who is greeting him he pulls you into a hug so tight it causes you to wheeze.

“Happy birthday!” Bolin lets go of you, causing you to stumble back two steps. Kuvira’s eyes widen as she sits up and watches him place his hands on your shoulders with a grin. “You’re one year older!”

“You… Remembered?” Your brows are raised in surprise as you notice the large gift bag behind him on the floor. Meanwhile, Kuvira is debating going to hide away in your room, not because she’s scared of Bolin but because this is your day and last time they spoke he didn’t hold back his hatred for her.

“Of course, how could I forget one of my best friends' birthdays?” You step aside to let him in, so he grabs the bag and makes himself at home by placing it on your coffee table. Kuvira stands so she can swiftly excuse herself but stops when Bolin sends a forced smile her way. “I thought I’d come to visit Zaofu and see you, plus I missed Opal.”

“How is she?” You’re not a massive fan of Opal ever since Kuvira told you about how she acted during her brief time away, but you know she means the world to Bolin just as Kuvira does to you. You walk over to Kuvira as you notice her eyeing the bedroom door and snuggle into her side, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Bolin seems surprised at the open display, to be fair he found out about the two of you right before he escaped and has never witnessed the two of you share so much as a hug. “She’s doing pretty good, she’s really happy to have her family all back together again.”

You know that’s a slight dig at Kuvira but try to ignore it, at some point you’ll pull him aside and ask him to ease up on her, for you. “Are you… Do you wanna stay for lunch?”

To be honest the both of you probably would have slept through lunch but with the arrival of Bolin you may as well eat, three bites of pancakes with some bacon and fruit doesn’t last as long as one would think.

“Totally! We have so much catching up to do anyway.” You help Kuvira heat up some of last night's dinner along with sprucing it up with spices and some homemade bread that she made the other day. Bolin sits at the table and watches the two of you move throughout the kitchen peacefully.

You both are so used to this that by now you know when to hand the other a utensil or keep from bumping into each other while moving around. He never thought he’d see the great uniter in a kitchen, especially in pajamas no less. Kuvira’s hair is a bit of a mess from the nap and is half out of her braid, not that she notices and you're wearing her white tank top with light blue pajama shorts. Both of you are sporting socks and are the picture of domesticity.

He notices how healthy you look. Those years on the train were slowly killing you, your lack of appetite and resigned demeanor had made you gradually disappear, it seems like he watched your soul float out of your body sometime after the engagement.

But now you’ve gained back the weight you lost, your cheeks are full again, hair shiny and you’re… Smiling. He’s seen you smile a lot, but he realizes now they must have all been fake because this one is so obviously genuine and nothing like the others. When Kuvira passes by you, a hand grazing your back to let you know of her presence you peek at her with a look so full of love. He wonders if Kuvira knows just how much you love her. It must be a lot by the way you seem so relaxed beside her.

Lily trots in from the garden where she was most likely barking at anyone passing by and immediately decides that she must sniff this new person. She shoves her cold snout against his arm and Bolin jumps in shock, a yelp escaping him.

Both of you look up at the sound and when you see Lily inspecting Bolin you snort. “That’s Lily,” you begin to plate the now warm kebabs while Kuvira scoops the Papaya salad into three bowls. “She likes if you rub the backs of her ears.”

“You got a dog?” Bolin eyes the two of you, more so Kuvira than you. Kuvira has a dog? He must be having some kind of fever dream because nothing seems correct right now.

“Yes…” That’s the first thing Kuvira has said to Bolin since he stepped through that door. To be fair her heart is pounding as she waits to see his response. You mean too much to her to mess up right now. She can’t ruin another one of your birthdays by starting a fight with your best friend.

“Well, that’s cool! Y’know I might need to use Lily as an excuse to get one myself, but maybe a smaller one because I’m not home a lot and I could carry a small one around. I don’t think I told you but I work for Zhu Li now.” You bring the plates over to the table and help Kuvira with the bowls.

The last of Bolin’s words perplexes you. For the most part, you’ve been sheltered from the outside world and its news since the hospital. The last you heard about Zhu Li was her marriage to Varrick.

She sent you a letter letting you know and saying she wished you could have made it, but she understood that you couldn’t. “What do you mean? She isn’t Varrick's assistant anymore?”

“Oh wow you’ve really-” Bolin takes a bite of his kebab and his eyes widen at the explosion of flavor in that one bite of meat, “been left out of the loop huh? Also, this is really good.”

“Thanks,” Kuvira says softly. Another shocker for poor Bolin, she made this? What other weird things has she been getting up to ever since she tried to enslave them?

“Well,” Bolin brushes off Kuvira’s words, and you sigh to yourself. “Zhu Li ran for president of Republic City and won.”

“What?!” Your eyes widen, you drop your fork back into your bowl and stare at Bolin. “Really?”

“Yeah, and she’s ten times better than Raiko. I’m… Well, I guess I’m her assistant now, so I don’t really have much time for myself anymore, but it’s a fulfilling job.”

You reach under the table and search for Kuvira’s hand. Your fingers brush against hers before wrapping them around hers and softly squeezing. You know she must be uncomfortable right and you’re so grateful. This can’t be easy for her.

“How did you manage to sneak away to Zaofu then?”

“Oh she gave me the time off when she heard it was your birthday, even gave me a gift to give to you from her and Varrick.” Oh wow, if it’s from the both of them it will probably be something fancy, but knowing Zhu Li it won’t be too over the top whereas if Varrick was in control of it you’d probably have something that could be seen from a mile away.

“I hope I can see her again sometime, Varrick too.”

“I’m sure if you ask she’ll find some time off. You mean a lot to her after everything.” After helping her escape, is what he doesn’t say but it’s what everyone knows. Escape from Kuvira.

“So what are they like as a couple? It shocked me when I got that letter.” And so Bolin goes on one of his tangents about everything regarding the couple.

Apparently, they both knew about their soulmate bond from day one but Varrick had assumed it’d be one of those rare cases where the love they felt was platonic instead of romantic. But he was just shoving his feelings for her aside, and she had assumed it was platonic as well seeing as he was her boss.

Little did either know how wrong they were and spent all of those years together slowly, inch by inch, falling in love with one another. It’s actually kind of romantic, they were if anything, friends before lovers. Sometimes you wonder if that's how it should be.

After everything you feel like just jumping into a relationship with someone you don’t know because of words on your skin seems a bit hasty and rushed. To become friends first, to slowly get to know another allows them to learn if they are right for each other.

Just because the universe has chosen you as soulmates doesn’t mean you have to date them, many people, those who don’t feel romantic attraction towards others, form deep friendships with their soulmate. And others leave their soulmate because, even though their bond is deeper, the other may still be bad for them. You wonder if you would have left Kuvira if you weren’t so stubborn.

You understand that at times the universe doesn’t choose correctly but you think it did for you. Perhaps at first, she wasn’t good for you but the woman she’s grown into these last few months (almost a year) is thoughtful, caring, and handles you with the utmost gentleness as if you're porcelain. It’s a transformation unlike any other. After that first kiss, it was almost always rough and fast, you had gone further into the physical aspects of your relationship far before you even knew the basics about each other. She was all-consuming in a way that slowly sucked the life out of you but now she’s slowly filling you back up and replacing the cracked pieces of your heart. Pieces she broke.

“I’m so happy for them, I know Zhu Li seemed worried about Varrick’s reaction to her return,” you reply after he’s done regaling you of everything regarding the couple. It makes sense now that you think about it.

You think back to the day you helped her escape as you handed her the battle plans for Republic City and how you asked her if you thought a soulmate could forgive the other over a great betrayal.

“Do you think, what with the deeper bond and all, someone can forgive their soulmate if they betray them?”

“I hope so.”

Whilst you were panicking over Kuvira, she was probably panicking over Varrick. Then you think about now, about the therapy sessions and the months of not talking, of not touching. The fighting and tears. There wasn’t much for Kuvira to forgive but there was so much for you to forgive. How do you answer your own question when you still aren’t so sure?

“Oh, the trip back to Republic City whipped him into shape, it made him realize how much he loved her.” By now you’ve all finished your food and Kuvira gets up to collect all the plates. When she passes by you gently grab her wrist to slowly pull her down and leave a quick peck on her cheek.

She can’t help the slight flush that dusts her cheeks as she stands back up after the kiss and heads to the sink. You just want to try and let her know how much you appreciate her right now, how you see the work she’s putting in.

Bolin gets up at the display and heads over to the coffee table where he left the big, dark blue bag. He brings it over to you and sets it down on the table with an excited grin.

“Okay, so this-” he pulls out a perfectly wrapped medium-sized box, “is from Zhu Li. I thought you could open it first and then open mine.”

He's like an over-excited toddler as he sits down beside you. Kuvira watches from the kitchen as you tear into the wrapping paper, it falls to the floor in small heaps that she knows Lily will try to chew.

You rip off the last piece of paper to find a black box staring back at you, sliding it onto the table you gently pull the lid off. The first thing that catches your eye is a thin metal bookmark that resembles a flower with its stem. There're words engraved onto the side that read ‘Bravery is often found in the quiet ones’.

You think back on last year, it was a terrifying time but the two of you, the quiet ones, were braver than anyone could imagine when it came down to it. That night helping her escape made you feel like a hero in a novel, well up until the adrenaline wore off on the ride back to Zaofu.

Together you took out a general and six guards. She destroyed the mecha suits and you destroyed the weapons. At the moment you didn’t think of yourself as brave or courageous. You were simply trying to right the wrongs of your past, trying to finally be the person you hoped to be.

Biting your lip to keep from crying you lift the bookmark to show Kuvira “now you can stop yelling at me about our books.”

“You practically mutilate them with that awful dog-earring,” she retorts. She can see the glisten in your eyes, but she’s too far away to see the words engraved. Kuvira doesn’t comment on it as you blink a few times to wash them away before carefully setting the bookmark onto the table.

Pulling your gaze away from the bookmark you look towards the box to see what else is inside. There’s something wrapped up in silver tissue paper so you swiftly pull it off and are met with a sight that has you giggling. In your hands is a book titled ‘Communication for Dummies’. There’s a card that slips out of it, it’s small and white, and when you open it up you're met with Zhu Li’s neat handwriting.

The bookmark is to help remind you of your success,

The book is to hopefully help you find peace.

I miss you and hope you’re having a very happy birthday.

Thank you for everything,

Zhu Li Moon.

You gently place the card on top of the book and put all three items back into the small black box before placing the lid back on. By now Kuvira has walked over to help you pick up the wrapping paper, which you pull yourself away from the box to do. When you hand her the fist full of paper in your hand, Bolin slides the bag your way.

“I can’t wait to see your reaction,” he places his chin in his hands as he leans forward in his seat. He’s practically vibrating with excitement so to help calm him down you happily open up the bag and pull out all the tissue paper he stuffed inside.

Your fingers graze across the smooth fabric and you gently grip the material to pull it out of the bag. In your hand is a mint green halter top made of stretchy fabric, with furrowed brows you pull out the other item inside that’s a pair of matching mint green pants made of the same material.

“For when you start dancing again,” Bolin happily explains. You look down at the clothes, before you’d always just wear a tank top and sweatpants like most of the girls there but some of them, the ones who had been doing it most of their life had special outfits for practice. “I thought the best dancer I know should have something to practice in.”

“Bolin…” You want to remind him that you aren’t a dancer and haven’t practiced with a teacher in four years. Looking at the top in one hand and pants in the other reminds you of that first day sparring with him on the train, how he believed in you and your dream.

“There’s one more thing in there.” You bite your lip and gently set the clothes down, at the bottom of the bag is a silver shoebox. Using both of your hands you carefully pull the box out of the bag and set it on the table, Bolin sets the bag on the floor for you and watches as you carefully lift the lid.

Inside is probably the nicest pair of dance shoes you’ve ever seen. Made of soft black leather with laces down the center they have a strong grip on the soles and you run your hand over the bottom of them before looking back up at Bolin.

“The lady at the shop said those are best for the flying stuff, that’s what you wanna do right?”

Flying stuff, a wet laugh leaves your lips as you vigorously nod. Unshed tears glisten in your eyes as you think about how sentimental this all is. For the last few years, you’ve felt forgotten and unimportant, like if the wind finally carried you away no one would notice. Today feels slightly overwhelming all of a sudden as your grip on the shoes tightens.

“Are they not the right kind?” Bolin’s voice drips with concern and all you can do is shake your head as you try to calm yourself down. A few tears trickle out from the corners of your eyes and you let out a deep, shaky sigh.

“No these are perfect, thank you.” He stands from his chair and pulls you into his arms, the shoes get squished between the two of you but you don’t care. Neither of you notice as Kuvira slips into the bedroom, this feels deeply private. She suddenly feels like an intruder in her own home and sits cross-legged on the bed with her sketchbook in front of her as she waits for him to leave.

When Bolin pulls away from you, he notices the absences of your lover and lets out a sigh of relief, sitting back down in the chair he helps you put all the gifts back in the bag for now.

“Are you happy, Y/n?”

“Huh?” You furrow your brows as you wipe away the last of your tears, you feel slightly silly for crying but you know he doesn’t mind. He witnessed you cry a lot on the train.

“I mean it’s not like before? You’re happy, and she’s finally treating you right?” Oh. You think back on the times you’d start to cry during sparring sessions, he’d always ask if you wanted to stop but you’d simply press on. It felt better to punch away the tears than wallow in them.

It is better, you think. You’ve known for some time that you both have made vast improvements and it makes you so happy to know that your relationship won’t remain such a toxic void, slowly sucking the life out of you. There was still so much left to do though.

“I am and…” you smile, “she is. She’s been really amazing these last few months.” Bolin feels a sense of relief in your words. You were like a sister to him and it made him feel so much better to be returning to Republic City knowing you were alright.

“Y’know I expect you to start writing to me, I can’t just come up to Zaofu every few months to make sure you're still alive.”

You laugh at that. Grinning you playfully let out a dramatic sigh “I guess I can fit that into my busy schedule.” Both of you talk for a while, he tells you more about his job and you inform him of the thrilling development of your plants which has him laughing with how hard you try to make it sound interesting.

Eventually, though he has to go. Apparently, he and Opal have a dinner date that he has to go get gussied up for. When you lead him to the front door he pulls you into a tight hug just like the last one, only this time, you’re able to wrap your arms around him too. You stand like that for a minute before he finally pulls away from you, opening the door for himself he looks at you one last time.

“If you ever need someone, I’ll come as fast as I can, okay?” You nod, to be honest, you had momentarily forgotten about how much Bolin cared for you. It's comforting to know he still cares about you after this year apart during which you’ve stayed with someone he hates.

“I know, thank you, Bolin.” He offers you one last smile before leaving, the door softly shuts behind him, and once more it’s simply the three of you in the apartment. Lily is napping on the couch and the bedroom door is shut, you know Kuvira snuck off at some point so you leisurely walk over. Upon opening the door you find her sitting at the center of the bed, hunched over with her charcoal pencil in hand.

“Hey,” you lean against the doorway with your arms comfortably crossed over your chest. She looks up from her sketchbook at the sound of your voice, a soft smile creeps its way onto her lips. “How’s the sketch going?”

“I’m almost done, ‘started working on it yesterday, so I’m mainly shading right now.” She sets the pencil down and pushes some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “How was your time with him?”

You slowly walk over and climb onto the bed, you steer clear of the book and make sure not to look down at it as you sit beside Kuvira. Your fingers run through her hair, from her nap most of it is out of the braid and she hasn’t tried to fix it. You love her like this, when she looks so relaxed and happy. “It was nice, we mainly just chatted about our lives since we last saw each other. I missed talking to him.”

“Those were some nice things you got.” Kuvira looks down at her sketchbook and picks up the pencil to twirl between her fingers.

“They were, I wasn’t expecting that though.”

Kuvira sighs, raking a hand through her hair she looks at you out of the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry I can’t get something like that for you today.” Or have ever given you something like that, she thinks in a self-deprecating manner.

She thinks of all the empty promises on all your other birthdays, the way she’d mention one day showering you in jewelry once it was all over. You’d always tell her you didn’t need fine jewels, just her, but she still feels like a bad girlfriend for not having all of that and more to hand to you on a silver platter.

“Kuvira…” You inch closer to her until your knees are touching the side of her leg, one of your hands helps tilt her head towards you so you can look into her eyes. “You could hand me a wilted flower and I’d love it.”

She rolls her eyes at your words, but you pull her face closer until your noses are touching. “I’m serious, I’m really happy with how today has gone, I don’t need anything. All I want is to spend the rest of the day relaxing with you.”

“I do have something…” She replies softly. You tilt your head in question and watch as she slowly extracts herself from your hold before moving over to her nightstand. She fishes a stack of papers out of her drawer, with her back turned to you, she rearranges them and makes sure none of them have been bent or smudged.

Kuvira is nervous, which shocks her because she’s never really been nervous. The few times she has, she realizes it’s been about you. With a final exhale Kuvira turns around and sits in front of you. Your knees are touching, you can’t see what's on the papers as she holds them close to her chest.

“It isn’t a ruby necklace or golden ring but…” Kuvira thickly swallows as she slowly lowers the papers, you bring your hands up to carefully take them from her. “It’s all I have to give to you.”

A gasp escapes you at the sight before you, the first paper is of a panda lily, the lines are uniformed and perfected, there’s not a single flaw in sight, not even the shading is shoddy. “These are from the past couple of months, it starts with my first few drawings and ends with the more recent ones.” You’ve never heard her sound so nervous before. She tucks her hands between her thighs, her whole body tense as she watches you silently inspect the first drawing.

Biting your lip you carefully set the first drawing down, afraid of ripping it. The next three are all of different kinds of flowers, you realize they are flowers your dad often brings over to the house. Each one is as perfect as the last, these can’t be her first few because this looks amazing, then again it seems everything Kuvira does is amazing.

The fifth one is a bit different, it’s of you, sort of. You can tell she had a harder time with this one, instead of having the sharp defining lines and perfect strokes it’s a bit softer, you can see some smudge marks around the hair but it’s still you. You’re looking down with your hair pushed behind your ears, it’s a side profile.

“That’s not the best of them,” she admits. You shake your head, delicately as if scared you’ll break it your fingers graze across it.

“I love it.” The lump in your throat slowly grows as you sift through the stack. Slowly it’s less perfect, less inanimate and lifeless, and rawer. There’s a drawing of Lily on her back with her tail wagging that you know you’ll have to frame.

There’s one of your parents, it looks like something similar to Winter Solstice as they sit next to each other with glasses of wine in their hands. Your dad has his arm slung over your mom's shoulder as both are laughing. There are finger smudges on the corner of it and you can see the happiness in their expressions.

Next is you and your father filling dumplings, he��s staring down at you. You're grinning from ear to ear as you stare at the half pinched dumpling in your hands.

Then it’s you and Lily with her sitting on your lap, your arms are wrapped around her body with your eyes close, head resting against hers. The drawing makes you feel cozy and loved like you're experiencing the moment she captured on the piece of paper.

There’s two left. The second to last one stuns you, your grips on the papers tighten just a fraction as you stare at yourself sleeping. Your hair is sprawled across the pillow, you have a hand tucked under your head with the other outstretched, most likely trying to reach for her. There’s this content look on your face, a slight smile and a scrunch of the nose. Your shirt has ridden up and bunched just under your breasts, the curve of your body on display as the blanket rests at your hips.

“When did-”

“Three weeks ago.”

You nod, wetting your lips, you feel tears well up in your eyes, you can’t tear your gaze away from the drawing. Your heart swells with love for this talented woman sitting across from you. Is this what you look like in your sleep? Is this what Kuvira sees when she wakes up in the morning?

“You just looked so peaceful,” she admits anxiously. She keeps looking at you and then the paper, there’s one left, it’s recent but it’s different from the rest. This is based on an old memory, and she doesn’t know what you’ll think of it,

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe out, your voice shaky. This is too intimate to frame, you’ll have to get some kind of book or folder to hold this and any future ones for safekeeping. You aggressively wipe at your eyes, afraid of the tears dripping onto the paper. Carefully Kuvira extracts her hands from her thighs and brings them up to pull your hands away from your eyes, gently she wipes the tears away for you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re not sad right?” You shake your head in her hands, and she lets out a sigh of relief. “Well, there’s one left.”

Thickly swallowing you nod before cautiously setting that drawing on top of the rest. Her hands move to run through your hair as you look down at the last one. You still in her hold at the image in front of you. Unlike the rest, which are clearly drawn from memory in house arrest, this one goes far back. It’s something you haven’t thought about in years, it’s of you dancing in the studio with the metal flower underneath you, petals open to reveal you mid twirl.

You look different, younger, and stress-free with a determined expression. You vaguely remember doing this, it wasn’t part of the routine but something you sometimes did when you thought you were alone. Clearly, at some point, you weren’t as discreet as you thought with your private practices.

Eager as ever you’d come to the studio an hour early sometimes to warm up before everyone else slowly trickled in. You’d run through the stretches Suyin taught you then practice any moves you felt insecure about, which was honestly all of them. The metal flower makes you flush as you remember your night with Kuvira, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at it without feeling slightly scandalized.

That was your first time, first kiss too. It was overwhelming but also so perfect, she cradled you between her hands like you were a delicate spring flower and watched you come undone so many times before deciding to show you how to pleasure her. You were exhausted when you both finally collapsed in a tangled heap and finally knew why everyone seemed obsessed with sex.

“Y/n?” This time tears do fall onto the paper and you mentally scold yourself, you offer a weak smile as you let her wipe away the tears.

“These,” you place one hand on top of the pile, your other delicately holding the last drawing, “are the best gifts I have ever received.” They beat everything you could ever think of. These are things you’ll hold onto for the rest of your life and will show your grandkids.

You’ll cherish them for the rest of your life, even the less personal ones because it’s something she made, something she deemed beautiful enough to share with you.

Kuvira doesn’t believe you. She’s sure your parents have spoiled you with amazing gifts growing up and can’t help but believe these drawings to be some kind of a cheap cop-out. But that smile of yours as you continue to softly cry has that self-deprecating voice quieting down.

“I wanted to talk to you about something, it’s one of the things on Dr. Hanika’s list.”

You hum in acknowledgment of her words as you pick up the stack from the bed and carefully clutch them to your chest. It seems stupid but these drawings make you feel more loved than you’ve ever felt before.

“I know you can’t say it to me yet and I don’t want to pressure you.” I do wish you’d say it back, she thinks. “But I wanted to tell you some reasons I love you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at her words, but she presses on. “I know we’ve had a rough start and I know I’m to blame for it but I do mean it when I say it to you. Because…” she takes a deep breath, “you are so sweet and caring, you treat everyone kindly but aren’t afraid to fight back when necessary. I watched you stand up for what you believed in last year and you did it so fiercely, without a doubt in your mind it seemed.”

“You take care of those plants like they are newborn babies, so delicately that at one point in time I was jealous of the attention you gave them,” you can’t help but giggle at that, and she smiles. ”I used to get so excited when I thought about you growing up, I wondered what you’d be like, would you love me back? And then when I was sent here I gave up on the idea. It didn’t seem like I was meant to be loved by someone like that.”

You move one of your hands away from the stack of papers and gently cup her cheek, she leans into your touch. Her heart swells when she feels your thumb gently graze her cheekbone.

“I didn’t make anything easy and I think that was partly because I believed you were too good for me. I felt like a fraud at times but you’d always pull me out of my thoughts.”

“You’re the only person who can do that. I think I’ve remained sane for so long because of you and I know if you weren’t there I would have gone through with my plan. I don’t know what would have happened but I know it wouldn’t have been anything good.”

She wets her lips. “I love you even though you over-salt your food, even if you snore into my ear at night.-” You flush in embarrassment, your face tilting down, but she needs to look into your eyes for this, they help calm her. So she gently places her finger under your chins and lifts your head back up.

“You might be a bit messy or destroy our books, turn the music up too loud at times or drag mud through the kitchen but those are the kinds of things that make you who you are. Even if they drive me up the wall at times I still love them because you wouldn’t be the woman you are if you didn’t…. Take up most of the couch when we’re sitting together.”

You can’t help how nice it feels to stretch your legs out, you think. By now there is a stream of tears racing down your cheeks and dripping off your chin.

“I love you because for some reason, despite me pushing you away all those years you’ve stayed. Everyone else ran away when it got tough but you didn’t even though you should have.”

“I don’t think I’ve mentioned how grateful I am that you’re giving me a second chance and I hope you know that I really am trying. Not because I want things to go back to the way they were or because I want specific things from you,” like sex,” but because I love you.”

You can’t speak right away, that lump in your throat keeps you from forming any words as you continue to quietly cry. You know your face is probably red from crying and that you are such a mess. Reluctantly you set the stack of paper down to wipe away the tears. You take a deep breath to try and calm down, it works, sort of.

“I know you can’t say it yet and that’s okay, but I wanted to tell you this and…'' one of Kuvira’s hands slid down to yours, she laced her fingers through yours and offered a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry for being a piece of shit for so long, and I’m sorry it’s taken me four years to give you a decent birthday.”

“It’s okay…” you choke out.

“No it’s not,” she quickly replies. Kuvira knows how you don’t like to hurt other people’s feelings, including her own. Sometimes you’ll swallow your own feelings down for other people, she’s witnessed it far too many times.

You guys sit like that for a few minutes while you calm down, spirits you’ll have to put a cold towel on your face after this. She breathes in time with you in hopes of helping you calm down, it helps as she exhales with you then inhales. You could have used this all those years ago during one of your breakdowns on the train.

“I do…” love you, ”and one day I’m gonna say it back but right now just know that I do.”

It’s all you can offer, your voice is scratchy since your throat hurts from crying so much and it makes you cringe a bit to hear. Kuvira nods, she understands. That selfish, impatient part of her is internally yelling to finally hear it again, but she squashes it down.

The rest of the afternoon is spent in each other’s arms, you fall asleep at some point and awaken to Kuvira gently cupping your cheek. When she tells you your parents are in the living room it surprises you, she lets you slowly get dressed as she leaves the room to go back to cooking with your father. When you look in the floor-length mirror in the bedroom you let out a content sigh as you brush your hand over the sundress you’ve chosen. Your hair is a bit frizzy, but it’s nothing your parents haven’t seen.

When you finally leave the bedroom your parents cheerfully greet you with bone-crushing hugs as they rejoice at your presence. Both of your parents immediately keep up the tradition by retelling the story of your birth which has Kuvira awkwardly staring at the cutting board as she tries to bite down a chuckle at the funny parts.

Wine glasses are pulled out, bottles popped and when the food is finally ready you move to the dining room table. It’s loud and boisterous and very similar to Winter Solstice except now the topic is solely you. It has you blushing, your head in your hands as Kuvira gets to find out about all of your embarrassing toddler stories.

“How old was she?”

“Four.”

“She was four when she got a toilet seat stuck around her neck.” Spirits, you gulp down some wine. You can’t be too mad though because Kuvira is laughing, there’s a massive grin on her face. She loves this and hopes your parents never run out of stories to tell her.

As they begin to tell the story of your first day at school your eyes meet from across the table. Their voices slowly fade away as Kuvira offers you a loving smile that you easily return.

One day you’ll say it back, it’ll just take a bit more time. And at this moment you have a hard time not mouthing the words to her, but you’re not ready. You won’t push yourself again, so instead, you simply enjoy this moment, this quiet bubble you’ve momentarily created.

Today has been so perfect, it feels like one of Kuvira’s drawings, like it can’t be real. If you blink it’ll be gone, so you simply enjoy the moment with all three of your favorite people surrounding you.

She may have messed up your past birthdays, but today might just be the best day of your life and you didn’t even have to leave the house for it. All you can do is hope for more mornings spent laughing in each other's arms and days where you can simply be lazy, especially as a major change comes barreling towards you.

#kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira #kuvira fanfic #lok #lok fanfic #legend of korra #tgt #the great trial

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