#i love the wrinkles I gave tang

[countinglegoclowns]

Some freenoodles turnarounds I did for practice!!! Trying to nail down their faces in my style and get better at profiles and consistency :3

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 17

Welcome to the beginning of the end, for the next four weeks I will be putting out the last chapters of this story. It's done. And I am sorry to see it go. I really loved writing this story even if it kept changing on me and evolving into what it is today.

In this chapter we have Jason being sneaky, Wayne and a new werewolf in town.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

~

Eddie and Steve were having a quiet walk about town, holding hands and talking softly to each other sweet things.

Or that’s how it looked on the outside.

They were actually on the hunt. Wayne had been teaching Eddie how to hunt like vampire the last two years, and Steve was learning how to hunt as a werewolf and not just as a man in a wolf suit from Nancy.

What were they hunting? The manticore. Steve’s stronger sense of smell would help them track the beast down, while Eddie’s extensive knowledge of its habits and haunts would narrow down where to look.

People often assumed that Eddie was bad at facts and dates but he wasn’t. He was actually pretty good at them, his problem in school was not doing the homework. He would ace every test, he’d just forget to turn in his assignments.

Hell, his first senior year got one of the Hellfire Club members mad at him because he scored in the top ten percent of the nation on a portion of the SAT. She was averaging an A- average in the class they shared together and thought that that meant she should have gotten in the top ten percent of nation instead of him. To say that things soured between them after that was an understatement.

All this to say that Eddie was smart. Smarter than people gave him credit for and not just how he figured out the meaning behind Patrick’s attack. He knew people. Differently then the way Steve knew people, but still he was clever and quick witted.

Eddie stopped in his tracks and jutted his chin across the street. “Isn’t that Jason Carver?”

Steve looked where he was indicating and frowned. “I thought your uncle said he was sick. What’s he doing in town?”

“Uncle Wayne’s been saying that Jason is becoming more and more withdrawn since Patrick was attacked,�� Eddie explained. “He thinks he might have recommend Jason be brought to the full extent of the law, which is something Uncle Wayne really isn’t looking forward to.”

“But we’re trying to find Patrick’s attacker!” Steve protested. “I thought he would be happier that we’re trying to get justice for his friend.”

Eddie frowned, the crease between his eyebrows deepened. “I think his hatred of werewolves and vampires goes deeper than his sense of justice for his friend.”

Steve shook his head. That just couldn’t be true. He knew Jason from basketball. You wouldn’t be able to find a boy more loyal to his friends than Jason Carver. But he raised his head and looked Eddie in the eye and knew. Jason had only showed him his good qualities because they were equals.

Eddie had seen the worst of the other boy. The sneering viciousness beneath the veneer of civility that he showed to those he thought lesser than him.

“We need to find the manticore before he breaks his masters bonds,” Steve whispered. “I’m more concerned what an unbound creature like that could do to this town, over someone like Jason.”

Eddie watched Jason for a moment more. The other teen did not seem to be up to anything nefarious, other than lying to Uncle Wayne, so he nodded.

But the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the hairs on his arm stood up on end. There was a predator here. He looked around him.

“Babe?” Steve asked, reaching out to touch his elbow. “What wrong?”

“What do you smell just now?” he asked, searching the shadows.

Steve stilled. He scented the air. The wind was changing, but there!

“It’s a sharp metal tang in the air,” he murmured. “Like the scent of dried blood. It’s acrid.” He wrinkled his nose. “Foul.”

Eddie nodded. “That’s what I scented too, but now it’s gone. Whatever it was, though. It was not the manticore.”

Steve shook off a shiver that slid down his spine. “It was werewolf. But not one in my pack.”

“Banished you think?” Eddie asked as the wind shifted to carry the scent away from them. He could still feel the uneasy feeling down the pads of his feet. Whoever was out there was dangerous.

Steve tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. There’s nothing else we can do today. The rogue werewolf would have sent the manticore aground.”

Eddie nodded, the cat sìth was probably hiding the manticore’s scent anyway. “We need to talk to Wayne.”

~

Wayne listened intently to their report, soaking in everything they told him. He sat back and thought through it all.

“I think I know who the Banished you smelled in town is,” he said quietly. He handed Eddie the file he’d gotten from Sam and waited.

“Dr. Alexei Oborin,” Eddie read aloud. “That’s Nancy’s werewolf, right? The one she was sure caused a stir when she was little.”

Steve frowned. “She hasn’t told me anything about that.”

Wayne nodded like he wasn’t surprised. “She was waiting to see what that file contained. But I’m leaving it up to you if you want to share it with her. It’s has some pretty gruesome stuff.”

Steve nodded absently as he read over Eddie’s shoulder, the other man waiting until he was done before turning to the next page. No matter how much longer it took Steve than Eddie.

“The name of his bondmate is blacked out,” he said with that little frown of his that made Eddie want to bite him between the eyebrows for being too cute. “Do we know why?”

Wayne shook his head. “I’ve already pressed my source pretty hard to get the file. He could get fired if he doesn’t return it in a week.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance, but wisely said nothing.

“They were teenagers who were camping out in the woods near the pack compound,” Steve read. He frowned. “That’s strange.”

Eddie and Wayne’s heads snapped his direction.

“Look at the location of the two girls bodies...” he pulled out the photo in file and turned it to face Wayne.

Wayne looked at the picture and then back up at him. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking at, if I’m honest here, Steve.”

“It’s something I learned recently from Nancy,” he replied. “I don’t fight like a wolf in wolf form. I don’t go for the jugular for example because I know as human how easy it is for a human to throw up their arms to protect that area of the body. I knock them over first and press my weight on their chest to make it harder for them to do just that.”

Eddie frowned, but Wayne looked back down at the photo.

“Shit!”

The arms and upper torso were torn to shreds, the way you would expect from a wolf attack, but the bodies themselves were arranged to make it look it was the work of a crazed werewolf. Like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Someone moved the bodies?” Eddie reasoned. “But why would Alexei do that if he thought the kids were hunters? There would be no reason to. It was supposedly self-defense.”

“Unless it wasn’t,” Wayne said, continuing his nephew’s thought. “What if the bondmate came and rearranged the bodies to plead insanity on Alexei’s behalf?”

Steve nodded. “And then when that didn’t work, they claimed that the kids were hunters.”

Wayne rubbed at the stubble on his chin wishing, not for the first time, that he had been changed with a clean shaven face.

“That make sense.”

Eddie closed the file and looked on the front of the folder. “VHS? Video Home System?” He tilted his head to the side.

Wayne snorted, then giggled. Suddenly the stoic vampire was laughing so hard, tears of blood rolled down his cheeks. He took out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears.

“No, no,” he said around his feral grin. “It stands for The Van Helsing Society. But, dear god, I am going to use that on that bastard the next time I saw him.”

“As in Abraham Van Helsing?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide. “From Dracula?” He scooted forward to the edge of his seat.

Wayne nodded, still grinning. “The first name was changed but Van Helsing was a real person. Karl Van Helsing was the first to come up with the first policing body for supernatural beings. After the incident in London, it was pretty clear that people were going to start noticing that supernatural beings existed and he came up with The Van Helsing Society.”

“Pretty arrogant of him to name it after himself,” Steve huffed, rolling his eyes.

Eddie scoffed, throwing himself back against the sofa cushions. “Says the alpha of the Harrington pack.” Then he shook his head and muttered. “It had to be fucking cops.”

Steve just shrugged. “I never said that was also arrogant. I never understood why it wasn’t called the Hawkins Pack or Roane Pack considering being alpha isn’t hereditary.”

Wayne smiled at Steve. He had always liked him since he was a young boy learning that his parents had died. But he was really starting to like the man that boy had become, too. Because it was ridiculous that the pack hadn’t been named after the town or county it resided in.

“They are far more than just cops, Ed,” he warned. “They are a powerful group with abilities all their own. Crossing one of the Society isn’t the same as crossing a mortal or even supernatural cop, like Hopper. They are protected against possession, hypnotism, and even enthrallment.”

“Are they all descendants of the original dude?” Steve asked, pressing even closer to Eddie on the sofa. He didn’t like the sound of these supernatural cops either. Because where were they when he was being abused by the Franklins. He couldn’t even remember the night he first changed. He only remembered when he came to and he and Wayne were burying their bodies. He was just so grateful that the abuse was over that he really didn’t think of why.

But Wayne was shaking his head. “According to the records the last Van Helsing died during the oiliphéist riots of 1922 in Ireland.”

“That’s too bad,” Eddie said, cocking his head to the side. “As anti-vampire as the name has become a symbol of these days, I would still have liked to have met one of his descendants.”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve had the pleasure only once. Greta Van Helsing in 1871. She was a spitfire to say the least.”

Eddie ran his hands over his face. “Please tell me you didn’t fuck her...” he moaned.

“Not on your life,” Wayne huffed. “Even if she was immune to the whole agents and supes producing unhinged offspring, she was a lesbian and won’t have even spared me a glance.”

“Unhinged as in cool super powers, unhinged?” Eddie asked, lowering his hands from his face. “Or mental asylum unhinged?”

“Sadly the latter,” Wayne said mournfully. “The magic that they use to protect themselves from being controlled does nasty things to the natural magics supernatural beings are made of.”

“But Van Helsings were immune?” Steve asked, still pressed to Eddie’s side.

Wayne nodded. “Probably because like most things in nature needing a balance, the Van Helsings were naturally the balance to the supernatural creatures of the world. There are probably other families just like them, but Van Helsings are merely the most notable.”

“Makes sense,” Eddie said, taking Steve’s hand and giving it a squeeze. He could tell this talk of the Van Helsings was making him upset.

“In other news,” he said, “The Hughes, the Hollands, the Martins, and the Camerons are all willing to send in guards for Steve.”

“I wasn’t aware the Camerons were supernatural,” Wayne said rubbing his chin. “What are they?”

“Louie Cameron is a selkie, and Debra Cameron is a siren,” he explained. “Making their daughter Vickie one hell of a strong supe.”

Steve sat there with this confused pout on his face. “Guards? Why would I need guards?”

“I don’t trust the Pack right now,” Wayne replied. “There is more going on in that pack then meets the eye and I can’t be everywhere. Especially with Jason causing trouble in town. Patrick tried to warn me early on that Jason would try something like this, but I wanted to believe that there was good in their somewhere.”

Steve’s expression shuttered to a blank mask. “What do I do?”

“Just start hanging out with me and the others outside of the compound,” Eddie said, squeezing Steve’s hand again and covering it with his other hand.

“Okay,” he breathed. They were right, as much as Nancy wanted him to further integrate into the Pack, he needed to be on the outside to see what was going on and understand it.

And he knew the best way to do it, but it was going to take a lot of convincing. But he was up for the job.

~

Notes:

oilipheists are sea monsters from Ireland.

Cameron is the last name I gave Vickie from season four.

And the SAT (a test to determine how well you've learned your lessons over the course of the year not the college one) thing happened to me. I was doing poorly in English because of the stupid correcting sentences for grammar and punctuation bullshit (there is a very good reason I use betas) but when the results came back I got top ten in the NATION for reading comprehension. My friend in the class who getting A's in that class was so mad it wasn't her that she legit stopped talking to me because she was that sure I cheated.

Tag List: FOURTEEN SLOTS REMAINING

Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman

8- @kal-ology

[faejilly]

Shadowhunters prompt! Where the A/B/O thing means Magnus’s attempts to get Alec’s attention are really out there. Alec is charmed but baffled

so uh. I wasn't quite sure where to go with that, because Magnus & Alec's ability to try and communicate at dramatic cross-purposes is Very Them™️, but I usually think the a/b/o thing would make it easier what with pheromones and more defined gender/courting rituals? But then again it's not like Nephilim would have any idea how anyone else does things, and Magnus would be rather paranoid about crossing any lines?

Yeah. That totally works. Even if I failed to explain any of that IN THE FIC, hopefully baffled Alec is still entertaining? LMK if you want more, there's a whole lot more explanation in my head so I'm sure I can come up with something. 😅😅😅

That was Magnus.

In the Institute.

In a suit with a vest but no shirt and those boots and his hair, and Alec suddenly realized he was still standing with his arm raised from opening a door even though the door had shut behind him.

He was alone with Magnus in the Institute foyer and he was gorgeous and he smelled perfect, as warm and comforting as the incense that burned in the chapel without any of the cold tang of adamas-laced stone beneath it that always made Alec's spine straighten and nose wrinkle because that smell meant work.

Alec finally remembered to let his hands drop to his sides, and then realized Magnus had said something, and he was almost smiling and he was...

Holding out a bouquet of flowers?

Alec blinked.

"What."

He didn't manage to make it sound like a question, and he almost winced as Magnus' expression tightened, and he leaned back and he was further away and the flowers were gone, and Alec almost whimpered in disappointment.

"My apologies, of course."

And then somehow Magnus was bowing and he was even further away with a flourish of his hands and a twirl of his coat and the click of his boot-heels on the stone floor and Alec tried to reach out a hand because he still couldn't figure out what Magnus had said, he'd been too distracted by how pretty he was and how nice the flowers were but then he was alone by himself in the Institute with his hand hanging in front of him.

Again.

What.

Why.

Alec sighed, and stared up at the ceiling, as if that would give him the answer, would explain how his why are you giving me flowers when we haven't even rescheduled our date yet and I haven't gotten you anything? somehow come out as why would you think I'd like flowers despite the fact that Alec adored flowers and would love to tell Magnus that.

If he could just remember how to talk when Magnus showed up?

He'd managed to say yes when Magnus asked him out for drinks!

Only then he'd had to chase Clary and apparently Magnus thought that meant something other than literally having to chase Clary because she didn't have the sense God gave sheep.

Izzy or Jace were going to manufacture a disaster and call Magnus to clean it up just to find out what was going on between them, and Alec hated to think how much of a catastrophe they'd manage on purpose, considering the chaos they pulled off all the time mostly by accident.

He hated even more that he was half-tempted to create a disaster himself so Magnus would stop thinking he'd done something wrong and disappearing to regroup before Alec's brain could reboot after seeing him.

How the fuck was one person that attractive, it should be impossible.

Maybe he could write a letter and throw it at Magnus the next time he showed up?

He heard the door he'd come through open, and the stutter of boots as someone had to shift to avoid him where he was still standing by himself right in front of the door.

Alec sighed again. "Yes, Yoshino?"

"I was uh." Yoshino somehow still looked perfectly composed and reasonably elegant in her leathers even as she shrugged and side-stepped to get around him. "Just going out for coffee. Want anything?"

Alec shook his head. "No, thank you."

"You... all right sir?"

Alec lifted his brows at her.

"You've got that smoky cedar smell thing going on, and that usually means you're about to do something on purpose that terrifies the trainees more than their own reckless stupidity, and I just want to know if I should get some extra bold beans to stash in the kitchen for the rest of us so we can keep up."

Alec snorted and shook his head again. "I promise not to scare the trainees."

Yoshino's nose wrinkled as she stared at him. "Two bags then, got it."

He blinked, and she turned and left, and he allowed himself a grin as the door swung closed behind her. That was probably a good idea, actually. He could use the kick to help him figure out a new approach.

[ladyspaceradio]

Population: Me + You

Summary: The last thing on Ryders mind was having kids. She didn’t even have a significant other, let alone a romantic interest. However when Tann proposes something to help the colonist with repopulation efforts, asking Ryder to be the forerunner of it, she wasn’t sure how to take it. But now she's got a missing Sage, a grumpy baby daddy, a convention that might change everything, oh and she has to figure out how to tell Evfra he's going to be a father!

Warning: NSFW SMUT

AO3 LINK

                                                 Chapter One

“I’m-I’m sorry can you repeat that?” Ryder sat there stunned, eyes unable to focus on the Asari doctor whose name she couldn’t remember. 

Stepping closer, the doctor placed their hand on Ryder's shoulder. “You’re pregnant, congratulations.” 

Ryder’s head tilted to the side, glazed eyes stared at the asari though she wasn’t exactly seeing her. “I’m...what?” She breathed, mind swirling in chaos not really able to grab on coherent thought. “Pregnant.” The asari spoke slower, softer, there was a frown marring her expression. She probably wondered why the human pathfinder wasn’t jumping for joy. 

She’s gotten it wrong. Ryder clings to that thought. Because she couldn’t be pregnant. Not her. Because if she was-

Not possible. 

“That's not possible.” Ryder sinks deeper into the bed, the white paper sheet crinkles under her. She takes note that the asari is young, not even having her matriarch marks yet.

“You would think,” The asari beamed.  “Andromeda is full of surprises. We’re still looking into what exactly dissolved the blockers. Some think it's a bacteria, but I’ve been looking into those vaults. If they can make planets viable, just imagine what else they can make fertile!” Her excitement starts to dwindle as she studies Ryder’s pale face. “Erm, I’ll go get you a cup of water.”

“I can’t be pregnant.” Ryder slid off the table. Her feet feel light, and head lighter. Something turns in her stomach. “It’s not possible.” “Pathfinder,-” “Your tests are wrong.” She waved a hand. “I can’t be….” She shakes her head. The asari studies her. “If you need proof.” She opens the door to the hallway. “Follow me.”

Ryder stands in the mouth of the doorway, swaying. Her stomach twisted into knots. Lexi would probably say she’s in denial, some psychological trauma from her childhood. But then Lexi wouldn’t be lying to her. 

“Come on.” The asari smiles, it seems false, twisted in Ryders opinion. Perhaps this was just another one of Tann’s tricks. He was the reason she was here to begin with. 

He had contacted her, pestered and nagged her into this. Coming into the clinic to remove her blockers, to be a leading light for colonists to follow. 

“They need comfort to know that it's safe.” Tann folded his spindly fingers, a smile stretched across his leathery skin. “It is your job to lead them down the path of the future.”

The future.

Her eyes dropped to the trashcan by the door, she just might vomit into the bag there. 

“Pathfinder?” The asari dipped her head catching Ryders eye.

Lifting her chin she stepped forward into the dim hallways. 

                                     ----3 weeks earlier-----

The humidity on Aya was a hell of a thing. Paradise that came with a price, already she could feel the droplets of water clinging to her skin. It wasn’t that it was hot, but rather misty. Sighing Ryder ran a hand over her deflated curls and eyed the surrounding Angara celebrating with pride. Their joy, while delightful  to watch, gave her a splitting headache and rattled the teeth in her jaw from the burst of concentrated bioelectricity. This was the reason she chose to sit at the bar. 

And because Evfra was currently nursing another cup of Taavum looking spiteful.

“Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating?” Ryder leans against the bar, her tall cup of Taavum, a lovely smelling angara beverage, cupped between her hands. She knows how potent this stuff can be and has no desire to get drunk tonight. 

So she tilted her head down, letting the red curls cover her face as she studied the obviously displeased angara general who was hunched over his third glass of Taavum dissuading any of his soldiers from coming up and speaking with him. 

“I am.” Short and concise, but his sour face made him look as if he’d been sucking on lemons and not being adored by his people over what they thought was the last Kett ground base on Voeld being defeated. 

“Truly?” Ryder slides into the seat beside him, giving Roaan a small wave across the bar. “And is that true joy I hear ringing in your voice?” She puts her elbows on the counter, angling her body to look at him.

“It is...” He pauses looking at her, the dark blue of his iris look darker against the contrast of the white rofjinn wrapped and his broad shoulders. A gift from the initiative, one Evfra hadn’t enjoyed considering the small initiative logo stitched into the corner. He was likely to wear it tonight only for political gain, and destroy the offending material later. 

A pity considering how handsome he looked in it. 

“Hard.”

She blinks looking into his eyes and away from his physique. More than once Evfra had been a star player in some fantasies she had brewing in her subconscious. “What is hard?” Her voice is low and husky, she does not think he gets the innuendo.

“To believe this war is almost over.” 

Almost

It’s been three years since she killed the Archon. In that time they’ve worked together to build alliance between their people, cultivate a culture of respect and peace, and fuck the kett up so hard they wouldn’t even think of coming back for fear of getting their asses kicked again. 

“Hard to believe I slept over 600 years just to hear you bellyache about my cooking.” She tossed out, feeling a high as the slow releasing alcohol ran through her veins. 

His face contorted in disgust. “Your food is bland, tasteless, and should have been used against the kett.”

“Hey now! I’ll have you know Prime Rib is a delicacy, you should be thanking me for sharing.” She huffed out a small laugh and nudged his foot beneath the counter. “Your people have a future Evfra, and it’s thanks to you.” 

“Our people Ryder.” Evfra reaches over and touches her bare shoulder. She shivers at the power in the one hand that spans over half her back. “This is all possible because of you.”

She licks her lip, tapping the countertop. “And to think, in the beginning you stole all my credit-I’m kidding wipe that look off your face.” He’s not looking at her but rather something behind her. 

Turning her head she surveyed the crowd of angara when her eyes landed on the odd couple drawing everyone attention.  

Tilting her head to the side she watched Evfra observe the woman, who held the hand of a human male. It wouldn’t be such an odd sight except she was heavily pregnant. It seemed all the angara had taken notice. This was a rare sight considering there were delays on the repopulation efforts. Most to do with the fact that colonists wanted safety and security before starting a new family. Another part that so many families had been ripped apart by the war before. 

The woman stopped and smiled at the man who touched his hand to her expansive stomach. 

Ryder hummed softly and peered at Evfra’s face, noticing his eyes were slitted. He looked ready to shoot something. “Something wrong?” There was a noise of disgust that left his lips as he spoke. “Your people do not recluse during late stages of pregnancy?” He turned looking at Ryder, dragging his gaze down her face then form, settling on her stomach. Something fluttered inside her womb at the gaze. 

Or it was the alcohol. 

“Nah, we’re social butterflies.” She picked up her drink, sipping it, taking any excuse to not look at his face. “Not the same for your people, I’m guessing.” Now that she thinks about it she definitely never saw a pregnant angara. 

At least she didn’t think so. She knew that the angara had pouches, and that pups were small. 

“No.” He snarled, lips peeled back, his scar wrinkling under the expression. He turned back to the bar and downed the cup in front of him. 

She waited to see if he said more he just stared at his hands. Silently brooding. 

“I can’t imagine being cooped up.” Ryder swiveled in her chair grinning at the obviously happy pair making their way through the market. “I’d probably put a knife if anyone tried to cage me.”

Evfra snorted. “Like you did the Primus?” He offered. 

She pursed her lips. “Wish I did more to her.” She muttered, taking a gulp of the drink. It had a heady salty taste that ended in a sweet tang. 

Primus had been a Devil, far worse than the Archon since she had not desire to waste time gawking at the Remnant. She was pure evil, seeping a dark claws into Heleus seeking to erase everything but the Kett. 

In the end it had been her pride that led to her demise. She had wanted to see Ryder die by her own hands, for the ‘glory of the Empire.’ 

But there had been no glory in her death as she choked on her own blood watching Ryder stand over her. 

Taking another gulp of the drink, Abigail shook away the memory. Smacking her lips she looked at Evfra. “You ever just think about how you're getting older?” Eyes crinkle in the corner when his face delved into a sour expression.

“No.” 

“L-I-A-R,” She sang angling her body towards him. “You think about it. I think about, we all think about it. Its like waking up one day going, huh my life's half over and what do I have to show for it? A whole lotta nuthin’” She slapped her palm on the table. “Sure I’m the savior of the galaxy but that jazz is worth what?” “Millions of lives.” Evfra offered, looking almost amused as she swayed in her chair.

“Exactly! And do you know how many of those lives I’ve had in my bed?” She threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over her drink, if Evfra hadn’t grabbed it. “Not a one!” She sinks into the counter, both arms stretched out in front of her.

“Why would you want that many in your bed?” Evfra moves her cup to the other side of the bar. 

“I don’t want a million dicks.” Ryder grumbled, lifting her head to glare at him. “I want one. One glorious dick to be my dick forever.” 

“Perhaps you should speak with your doctor about this obsession-” He grunted and caught Ryders flailing hand as it smacked him in the chest.

She stares at her tiny hand in his massive one. Completely swallowed. She shivers at the heat radiating even through the glove. 

“No one needs a Pathfinder anymore.” She murmurs looking up at him. “And what will I do then?”

They’re both silent for a moment before he sighs. “You find something else to occupy your time. Your nose is large enough to be in everyone's business.” He’d seen how she sought out even the little task to perform. Just the other day she stopped to show a recruit how to take apart a milky way gun. 

“I have a beautiful nose.” She grunted looking at him, said nose wrinkled. Much to Evfra’s annoyance however her eyes began to mist over. “Why can’t anyone recognize that?” Her bottom lip jutted out starting to quiver. 

Evfra cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with this situation. “Your nose is the right fit for your face.” He offered.

“Really?” Ryder squeaked looking up at him. “I thought it was too big.” She touched her face and sagged. 

His hand touched her jaw, turning her to look at him. “You are perfect.”

Three words. Three simple words that came from the most unlikeliest of people. 

Ryder stared at him even after he pulled his hand back and looked away. He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable from her silence or her staring. 

“You're handsome.” She blurts as he starts to speak, her declaration silencing him. He turns to look at her, eyes roaming over her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “You are drunk.” He decides with a sigh. “I will call the tempest and have Jaal fetch you.”

“I’m not drunk.” Ryder pushed her thick hair back. “I’m high on liquid courage.” She smiles at him, though she is inclined to think she might be drunk when her mouth continues to spew thoughts from her brain. “I always thought you were handsome. Scar really adds to the good looks.” She nibbles her lips looking at him now, eyes tracing along the scar.

How many times had she fantasized kissing those twin lines that defined his features. Oh how she pictured nibbling them down to his lips that looked so plump that she knew they would cradle her own against them. 

Ryder shuddered leaning forward. He’s studying her expression when she reaches over, laying a hand on his muscular thigh.

“If you weren’t so walled off, Evfra, I’d almost suggest we hook up.” Ryder wiggles her brows.

He lets out a soft snorting chuff, his hand grabs hers and pulls it away before it could wander up to the crux of his thighs. “I think you’ve had enough.” He rasps in a husky tone, one that makes her thighs clench together as heat floods her core. “I will walk you back to your ship.” He slides out of the seat in a smooth motion that makes her head a bit dizzy.

“No thanks,” She jerks her arm out of his grip. “I don’t….I don’t want to go back there.” She curled an arm around her waist. “It’s lonely.”

They had come to Aya for more than this celebration, she’d come to say goodbye to Jaal as he and Avale were uniting their families and starting a life together. Just a few months prior Drack had left as well to be with Kesh and her second clutch of baby Krogan. Peebee had one foot out the door, Ryder could feel everyday she was itching for more than what the Tempest was doing. She knew that their time together wasn’t forever, but watching her family drift apart little by little was harder than she expected. 

Evfra was silent as she slumped down in her seat, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Let me crash at the resistance.” She grumbled.

“That isn’t something I can do.” He took hold of her arm again, and she allowed herself to be tugged out of the chair, though she misjudged the distance from her seat to the ground and landed directly into his chest with a soft  ‘oomf.’

His hand settled on the back of her neck, the other holding her arm ran down to cup her hip. She looked up at him, breath caught in the back of her throat. She was pressed tightly to his chest, breast molding to the hard plains of his, nipples stiffening as she felt a knot of arousal bubbling in her stomach. 

Gasping she watched his nose wiggle, eyes slitting as he bent his head. “You’re…”

She doesn’t think about it, in the future she’ll blame the alcohol running through her system, and the mix of Evfra’s heady scent, but she lunges, cutting off his words, smashing her mouth against his in a teeth clicking kiss that is more pain then pleasure. 

Evfra hisses, hand on her neck tangles with her hair, pulling her head back. Her lip is busted and bleeding, eyes glazed. Ryder sucked in a breath, her last bit of dignity began to shrivel as her hazy mind grasped at the lingering sanity pointing out she just kissed Evfra De Tershaav and likely ruined any type of friendship they have built over the past 4 years. 

“Evfra,” She twisted in his hold, hands pushing on his chest. “I’m-“

Her wobbly tone cut off as he bend his head, brushing his mouth against her nose, down her cheek, and ghosted over her lips. “You are too impatient, Ryder.” His husky tone sent a thrill down her spine that settled in her stomach. 

She tilted her head back trying to catch his mouth. She mewled softly when he pulled away.

“Not here.” He tugged her into his side tucking her against him, chuffing softly.

He doesn’t seem to mind her wandering hands this time. In fact she can hear the faintest sound of a purr thrumming deep in his chest. She almost calls him a pussy she’s willing to stroke when he suddenly tugs her off the main road and presses her up against the wall. 

Massive hands span over her hips as he dips his head towards hers. Letting out a sigh as their lips touch, he takes control keeping her head tilted with a fist in her fiery hair. He laps at the seam of her lips, but doesn’t go deeper despite her wiggling and whimpers of protest. 

“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me.” She gasp fingers curling around the straps laying against his chest. Her body’s pressed against his, hips grinding into his front. She makes needy keens in the back of her throat.

“Are you always this impatient Ryder?” He chuckles against her skin, lips igniting a fire beneath them.

“Call me Abigail, Evfra.” She panted against his mouth. She hadn’t the will power to extract herself from those delectable lips. Oh how she pictured kissing him! The reality blew all those lusty fantasies away. She made a wanton noise in the back of her throat as he nibbled her bottom lip. 

“Ahbee-gal” He purrs against her ear. The reverberating sound of his voice sends twings of pleasure down her spine, settling at her contracting core. He inhales deeply, chuckling at her reaction. “I’m going to ravish you.”

“Oh god yes!” She mewls  digging her fingers into his rofjinn, tugging to bring him back to her. 

He laughs, a deep throat thrum that she’s never heard before. If she had been more clear headed and less horny she would try desprately to remember the sound. Though that isn’t what is keeping her focus at the moment while ehr hands trail southward. Not that they get very far when the wall behind her suddenly disappears. 

Letting out a small wail, she nearly tumbles down to her ass if Evfra hadn’t snatched her waist. 

“Rude!” She huffed, craning her neck back to stare at the room behind her. Not that she can see much through the dim interior lighting. What she can see is a spare room filled with only the essentials. 

Of course her mind isn’t on the surrounding area long when a hot mouth presses to her shoulder sucking the the flesh there. 

“Clothing off.” She mewls hands tugging at his shirt trying to magic it off him with each tug. Why did angara clothing have so many buckles! Ryder begins to pout at the sight, muttering dark words about forbidden treasures being locked away. 

Chuffing in amusement he gently extracts her hands. “Let me.” His fingers make dizzly fast work of all the buckles and clasps. 

Hands free she starts work on her own clothing, while following Evfra as he tugs off his Rofjinn. Of course wanting to be naked soon as possible she attempts to take the shirt off without properly unbuttoning it first. 

Ryder stumbled into the bedroom door, her arms caught up in the sleeves as she tried to rip off the blouse she wore. She could hear Evfra huffing at her. Grinning she shimmied out of her shirt and tossed it onto the floor and wiggled a brow at him. 

“I would say your seduction talents needs some work.” He stated dryly folding the rofjinn and setting it aside. 

Licking her bottom lip she greedily drank in the sight of him shirtless, taking in his broad chest to his tampered waist. She especially appreciated the hard muscles that moved beneath his deep blue skin. Letting out a groan she moved toward him, hands out stretched to touch his skin. 

Catching her small hand by the wrist, Evfra let out a soft chuffing sound. “What happed to undressing?” He lifted her wrist and kissed the racing pulse beating beneath the skin. 

“I got caught up wanting to touch this perfection.” She whispered, swallowing back the saliva that built in her mouth. 

“Mmm.” He nips her skin before letting her go. “Are all humans so easily distracted or is it just you?” 

She let out an indignant huff. “Oh no it’s just me when there’s a particularly inviting male….” She steps closer, hands on his stomach stroking up and down grinning as his muscles contracted at the touch. “Needing to be stroked.”

He had scars across his skin, faded blue colors, almost white. She couldn’t resist leaning in and licking the one across his ribs. He let out a shuddering purr and yanked her into his chest. 

“Abigail.” Her name is a deep groan that leaves his mouth. 

And then he was kissing her again. Tongue sliding against her own, tangling together as his palmed her heavy breast. The skin of his palm sends electrical current through her breast, making her nipples stiffen and pleasure rock down to the clenching of her core.

Abigail moans against his mouth, enjoying the feeling of his touch too much to even notice when it became skin to skin contact. Until he breaks their kiss to pull away the tattered remains of her bra off her body. 

“Did you just he-man my bra off?” She spread her fingers against his chest, using his imposing unmoving form to steady herself. She thinks the alcohol has hit her system. She feels all warm and tingling. There’s a heat that starts in her stomach and pulses down. 

“I am unsure of your word,” He presses his mouth to her throat sucking on the skin there. “But yes, I did just rip that flimsy fabric.” He licked at the hollow of her throat, paying special attention to her jumping pulse. “I will buy you another, better, one.” 

“Mmm.” She tilted her head back, fuzzy brain can’t really focus on his words only on the sensation of his mouth making a path up her throat to her jaw, then his breath ghosted against her ear.

“Hold onto me.” He lifted her hands to his shoulders. And before her bogged mind could grasp his order he hefted her up, with one arm, wrapped around her ass. 

Squealing she hooked her thighs around those slim hips, pressing her heated core against his side. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation of his hip brushing against the wet crux between her thighs. 

Silencing her soft mewling noises he dropped her to the bed suddenly making a shriek leave her lips as she bounced against the mattress. Propping herself up on her elbows Abigail huffed at him, glaring up at his smirk. “Evf-”

Suddenly bending he grabbed the legs of her pants and yanked. Dragging them off her hips, along with her underwear. Which was left dangling of her ankle as he tossed her pants aside. They were less than flattering being the initiative issued clothing. A bland cotton cloth that  as Liam described  it, were ‘whitie tighties.’ 

If she had known the night would have gone differently she would have gotten her her red thong-

These thoughts abruptly disintegrated as Evfra lifts her ankle, looping a finger through one of the leg holes and holds the pair of plain undies up.

He drank in her scent with huffing breathes, large hands gripping the thin strip of clothing covering her soaked core. He growled as she let out a soft noise of disapproval. 

With a fangy smirk he lifted the soaked cloth to his nose. “Sweeter than pairpo.” Evfra purred, licking the panties then dropping them to finish ridding himself of his own pants. 

Abigail's eyes were glued to the movements, watching the fabric slide down his hips, lower and lower until Evfra was completely revealed to her. 

Lips parted in surprise, she stared at his cock. It was a darker blue and violet color, speckled with white across the underside of the shaft. He was thick and similar to a human male: if you didn’t count the fluttering ridges, the tapered head and bulbous base. The thing that shocked her and had her inching up the bed was that is was writhing against his stomach as if it had a mind of its own. 

Abigail didn't get to study him much before he grabbed her ankles and pulled her forward to the edge of the bed. 

Kissing each ankle Evfra placed the on his elbow, spreading her wide open for him like a flower blooming in spring. His eyes glued to her flushed skin. Pupils dilated, lips curled upward, he made a low snarling sound. 

Abigail flushed shifted against the bed feeling utterly vulnerable being spread before him like a feast. Which is how he was looking at her. She could even see him drag his tongue across his lower lip. 

“I must look alien to you.” She whispered self-conscious of her nudity. She curled an arm over her breast and sucked on her bottom lip. 

“You are….” He swallowed audibly, drawing his gaze from her pink cunt to her eyes. “Beautiful.” He purred, kneeling between her thighs. “I have never seen anything close to you.” 

“I’ve been curious,” his tone has taken a raspier note. The ‘r’s of his words dragged out in a sound that makes her shiver.  Warm hands drag along her thighs. Her muscles quiver in anticipation as he settled between her parted legs and inhales. 

Mewling she arches into him, head tossing back and forth in frustration. She wants him to touch her-why wasn’t he touching her. 

“Your kinds coupling is violent,” He strokes a hand down her skin. Petting her with the lightest touches on her stomach, hips, arms. But no where she WANTS him to touch. 

There is a tiny thought that wonders at what he’s seen to make such a judgement but it’s swept away in the tidal wave of arousal beneath his gentle touches. 

“Please!” Ryder keens softly her own hands trail up her body cupping the gentle slopes of her breast. 

He watches her but does nothing to end her torment as he speaks with slow decisive touch’s over her skin. “Your softer than any Angara I’ve been with.” As if to emphasize this point he groped the fat of her hips. She sighs as the touch, undulating beneath him. “I will not take you as your people do.” He bends tongue drags across the divot of her hip bone up the planes of her stomach. 

“Don’t care!” She cries out pinching her nipple watching him taste her skin with small licks traveling up her body. Everything throbs at the sight. She can feel herself spasm with need, a yearning to feel him slip between her thighs, to fill her to the edge of pain. To fuck her into this mattress till she can no longer move. 

“Evfra!”

He smirks leaning over her. “Responsive.” He stops her hands gathering both wrist. “Much better then the vids.” He murmurs softly against the swell of her breast. She’s holding her breath, nearly vibrating with wanton need.

A small thought bubbles in the back of her mind, that she’s edging the point of no return. That this was going to be a bad idea that spirals into a pit of despair if she didn’t stop. But that little bubble popped the moment his tongue sweeps out against her pert nipple. 

Crying out she arches into him, hands twist in the hold that has them. “Sensitive.” He growled lapping at the pink nub, circling it with the tip of his blunt tongue. Her toes curl at the feeling, his tongue had a texture to them and seemed to vibrate against the peak of her breast. 

He nibbled down the slope of her puffy breast, switching to lavish the other with attention. 

“I like how soft you are.” He growls squeezing and molding the breast to the palm of his hand. “How incredibly soft.” His mouth seals of the taunt peak, making her arch up into the sucking of his hot mouth.

He’s making a wet slurping sound while he suckles the peak of her nipple. His hand spanning her ribs moves down her side, cupping her rear that is pressed against his clavicle bone, which she’s been rutting unconsciously again.

She let out a moan as his finger slid along her cunt. He let out a rumble, seemingly surprised at how wet she was. Abandoning her breast with gentle kisses he travels down her stomach. Stopping to lavish attention to each of her small scars, freckles, and stretch marks. He grins at her as he nibbles her hip bone.

“Your scent is driving me wild.” He noses her red curls purring when she jerks against his hold. “It always drives me wild.” He lets out huffs parting her lips and stares at the pink clutch dripping with arousal. “I have longed to taste.”

“E-evfra.” Abigail wiggles in his hold, mind hazy with arousal. She mewls, trembling in anticipation. He seems to be taking his time savoring her scent that has her flushing with embarrassment. That doesn’t last long when he opens his mouth and licks along her slit with a decisive stroke. 

She mewls softly, hips jerking against his mouth. His spans a hand against her stomach, keeping her in place while his tongue makes feather soft touches across her cunt. It was light and gentle touches that were driving her wildly mad.

Thighs kept spread with his shoulders, he had full control of her body. She let out a deep cry, body shuddering. “Evfra!” She grabs his sheets jerking up into his mouth, trying to grind into him. 

He lets out a purr, vibrating that tongue against her clit that sends her spiralling down. Eyes rolling back as a slow building orgasm trickles into her system. Every muscle in her body quivers beneath the slow lazy licks of his tongue. Gasping, her knees fall open, hips ground up into his mouth. Rocking in time with his broad strokes. 

“Evfra, Evfra evfra.” She chants feeling the burn of overstimulation but she can’t stop rocking into him, can’t stop the second orgasm building as he audibly gulps at her cream. She lets out a sharp yelp when he presses a thick, blunt, finger into her weeping entrance. 

“Look at how you grasp me.” He purrs. “Greedy.” He sinks his finger deeper into her swollen, pink, clutch. Cooing at the way she grips his digit. Like a hungry mouth suckling him back in. 

Moaning, her head tossed side to side as he filled her up, opening her wide with slick wet noises as he moved his finger inside of her. It had been a long dry season since she last been with a man. At the moment she couldn’t even remember it, only what Evfra was doing to her body as he shifted pulling her hips higher. 

Nibbling her outer lip he thrust his finger deeper, both groaning as he did. “So soft.” He rasped. “How can any male leave this body.” His eyes met hers. “I’m going to make you sing for me.” 

Singing wasn’t what she felt her throat was doing. Opera more like it as she shrieked at the powerful orgasm that made her body arch and clench. She practically bowed off the bed while her vision went dark. All the while she could feel him still working his finger deeper into her cunt while loudly licking up the cum dripping out of her. 

“Stars.” He rasped  looking at her flushed body and shaking limbs. 

Abigail certainly felt like she saw stars as she went limp against the mattress. Her body jerked against him as he withdrew his finger. Drowsiness edged into her consciousness as she stretched languid. 

Of course two orgasms later and Evfra was nowhere near done with her. He chuckled as he kissed up her body, saying hello to the girls before he was fully looming over Ryder. 

“I hope you aren’t about to fall asleep.” He nudged his nose against her chin, urging her thighs to wrap around his waist. 

“Mmm.” Ryder cracked an eye open suddenly far more awake as something rolled against her sensitive lips. Breath hitched when he nudged her entrance with the head of his cock. 

“Oh!” SHe gasped as the odd sensation of being filled by something that wasn’t entirely human. 

Thighs quivering against his hips, she attempted to roll away from the burrowing entity that was Evfra’s cock, only to feel the first set of ridges slip into her and go completely still. She was instantly melting into a puddle of pleasure as they rowed against the walls of her. Especially tickling her g-spot. Making her clench around him with a groan. 

Scar wrinkled he closed his eyes holding her hips, soft a mewling noise left his throat. “Stars.” He looked down at her then, eyes slitted. “The way you grip me…” He rubbed the mark he left on her skin, breathing hard. 

Drool was dribbling out of her mouth while she gazed up at Evfra, hips rolling against the thick cock. Toes curling, heels digging into his back to spur him on. But Evfra seemed determined to drive her mad. He moved in a slow pace, until he was completely sheathed within her warmth. 

“Tight.” He growled against her skin, he was making many marks against her collarbone, sinking his fangs into the yielding skin. Ryders own nails were clawing at his back as she felt the bulbous base popping into her cunt. 

“Evfra!” She cried so sweetly, tears leaking out of her eyes as he began to pull out of her at the same slow pace. He could feel her climax as he pushed in, feeling the way her walls clenched and pulsed, beckoning him to seed her. 

How he thought of her swollen with his child, like the human he saw before. His lips peeled back in the though as he pulled her hips flush against his, sinking into her depths. A hand span up between the valley of her bouncing breast and lay over her vunerable throat. 

She gasped, tilting her head back giving his hand more room as he cupped her throat, thumb stroking over her racing pulse. She murmured how she couldn’t give him another one. But she would-oh she would cum again on his cock, and he would fill her womb with his seed. And once she was limp beneath him he would slide down her body to taste their coupling, coax yet another orgasm from her. 

Maybe then he would let her rest, but he would spend the night between her thighs.

“You’re a treasure.” He bent over her, hips gliding along her thighs, sticking to the steady pace. Those ridges rubbed against her walls. He can feel the tells of his own climax coming as the ridges began to row, seeking to interlock with a female angara’s grooves. They would become thicker as he climaxed, ensure that none of his seed escaped. 

He watched as Abigail’s green eyes widen at the feeling, her wet lips parting with a soft ‘Oh!’ as a shudder rocks her body. She orgam’s against him, he can feel her soak him as a wordless cry escapes her. He growls bending down to capture her lips, sinking deep into her cunt as spurts of his seed coat her womb.

-----Present-----

She chewed on her nail, biting into the skin but not breaking it. 

How did one tell the grumpy resistance leader that his one night stand led to a new life? 

She hadn’t even seen Evfra since then. Much less spoke to him. Her hands threaded together behind her head as she let out a low sigh staring at the screen of the empty email. Twice she started typing, both started with an apology neither made past the second sentence. She wanted to be a coward, send him an email, throw the proverbial ball at him and wait. 

Turning in her chair she pulled out the glossy black and white photo. Though it was hard to discern what exactly the picture was, she could make out the small pea like blobs in the photo as her children. 

Multiple...

She shuddered, a sour taste filled her mouth, her stomach rolled. Taking gulping breathes she warded off the nausea. Apparently the Doctor, Y’lusia, Sara remembered her name after leaving, said she was in 10  weeks along. Funny considering she’d slept with Evfra 3 weeks ago. But Ryder hadn’t said a word, just numbly taken the photo. 

Y’lusia informed her that she would be sending the file over to Lexi, who was her main doctor, but thought it best for her to set up another appointment at the clinic to see a specialist. She wouldn’t be returning to that clinic, Ryder thinks with a bitter expression. 

It was a shame Lexi was attending the Nexus seminars at the moment, and Harry was acting at the Tempest replacement. 

Gave her plenty of time to avoid, ignore, this predicament a little longer.

::Ryder, Director Tann wishes to speak with you.:: SAM popped up at his router, to the left of her elbow. She let out a low noise of discomfort thinking about talking to him.

“Any way I can put him off?” She leaned back into the chair, putting the ultrasound photo into a draw where it was to be forgotten for a time. ::I can tell him you are occupied with personal matters.:: SAM offered. 

“Uuuugh no,” She stood and pulled her hair back into a bun. “It will only make matters worse.” She stood and looked at the Orb. “How do I look?” ::Like Abigail Ryder.::

She snorted softly. “Remind me to have Jaal teach you some sauve lessons SAM.’ She took a few breaths shaking her hands out. “Maybe I should change.” She glanced down at her sweat stained sleepshirt. She hadn’t bothered dressing, as there was no one needing her attention. They’d just gone to Eos, dropping Peebee off. 

It had been a sad, and regretfully sober, party for Ryder. While Peebee bounced around the remaining tempest crew wishing them good tidings, Abigail had been preoccupied with thoughts of what her future was now going to look like. 

Groaning she tugged her shirt off and ambled over to her messy wardrobe. She shifts and sniffs each article till she finds a decent one and tugs it on. It's here she glances at the mirror and frowns as the material stretches thin across her abdomen. A hand settles across the swelling between her hips. 

Letting out a slow sigh she turns away from the mirror quickly and heads to the door. 

She is lucky that she can play it all off on the removal of the blockers for the time being.  

“Ryder,” Tann’s eyes blinked one just slower than the other. Abigail tilted her head to the side, was it old age? Perhaps he was having a silent seizure. She almost wanted to call a doctor just to end this meeting.

“Tann.” She says his name in a slow draw, blinking her eyes one just slower than the other. 

“I see you have gone into the clinic, I will be setting up a meeting for you on Nexus, we’ll get this ball rolling. Addison will be in touch shortly, she’s eager to begin this campaign. The colonist need something to look towards.” His babbling seemed to cause the spiking ache behind her eyes. One that had her stomach turning. “Mmm.” Ryder replied, rubbing her temple. “I’ll be stopping at Aya first.” She had to speak with baby-babies-daddy about something. 

Like the very impeding existence of being a baby daddy.

“That’s perfect! I’ll send the reporters there,” Her stomach drops as she tries to speak but Tann prattles on regardless of her protest.  “Good scenery, the angara are good place to start. Being all about family as they are. It will be a good start, very good Ryder,” She wonders if good was the only vocabulary he knew when he waves his hand in a wide arch.  “I will let Addison know. Tann out.” 

Then he was gone, and she was left there, feeling bamboozled. 

How did my life become this?

She sucked in a sharp breath a gurgle logged in the back of her throat and she stumbled away from the vid coms racing to the crosswalk where she jumped down and shoved Liam out of the way. 

“Hey!” He hollered. “I have to piss.” 

Ryder didn’t answer as she bent over the sink and vomited.

“Never mind.” He backed out of the bathroom and turned away.

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[butternuggets-blog]

OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW BETTER

@baldwin-montclair @adowobsessed @sylverdeclermont @nicki-mac-me @thereadersmuse @kynthiamoon @adowbaldwin @profoundme444 @beautifulsoulsublime @lady-lazarus-declermont

Part Fifty-Two

Summary: Baldwin de Clermont manages to upset an ancient hag. He wakes up.. different.

Also on Ao3

Baldwin opened his eyes.

Baldwin closed his eyes.

The city burst into life beyond his window.

It was like being a newborn again. Baldwin gripped the bed sheets and concentrated. Slowly, so very slowly, he brought his senses back into balance until he could breathe again.

Immortality took a little getting used to after a year without it.

He sat up slowly, uncurling as he did so, and took stock of his surroundings. He could hear two steady heartbeats in the living room beyond.

He paused nervously.

An instinctive need to consume failed to appear.

Baldwin let out a relieved sigh.

His hand brushed Liv's side of the bed and the heady scent of black tea and honey settled in the air around him. An unfamiliar ache settled deep in his bones, his skin tingling and weightless. Slowly, reverently, he breathed in again.

Liv had smelt of pollen and potting mix, or handmade floral perfume from the moment Baldwin met her. He had sprayed himself with the bottle of Liv's "scent" she had gifted to him on Valentine's Day whenever he felt lonely; he had had no idea how close it was to the real thing.

Baldwin slipped out of bed in a silent daze, padding softly barefoot down the hall. He paused at the corner of the living room and-

Oh.

There was sunshine in her eyes.

Morning light streaming in from the window reflected off two small slivers of gold in Liv's pupils, making them glint and shimmer.

Her hair was the same rich chestnut brown it always was, but now he saw there were lighter strands, natural highlights that made his head spin.

There was a light smattering of freckles that began at the nape of Liv's neck and dipped down over her shoulder. The smell of black tea and honey was much stronger now, but the syrupy sugar notes gave way to the peppery scent of geranium.

Bergamot. The metallic tang of lightning on the wind just before a storm. Good loamy soil, and the soothing snap of peppermint.

Fennel and clover and rose, and other subtler, deeper layers of spice that made Baldwin's toes curl into the carpet.

‘Hey.’

Baldwin felt the whisper as well as heard it, and he realised with a start that he had moved so that his face was now pressed against Liv’s shoulder. He blinked.

‘I love you.’

Liv smiled and- oh gods- Baldwin wanted to savour that expression forever.

‘I love you too.’

Gingerly, so as not to wake him, Liv pressed Baldwin’s unresisting hand on top of Hugo’s sleeping head. He peered down over her shoulder at their sleeping son, and carded a finger carefully through his hair.

‘His hair’s like yours.’ Baldwin mumbled, in wonder. It was too; though lighter by a few degrees, Hugo’s hair was the same dark chestnut as Liv’s. The movement on his skin brought him slowly round; Hugo blinked awake, yawning, then focused on his father and smiled.

A memory of the Mediterranean rose unbidden in Baldwin’s mind. He smiled back at Hugo, and he let out a loud, pleased shriek. He waved his fists, clenching and unclenching his fingers, and the scent of warm milk, freshly-baked bread, and green apples wafted up.

‘You’re both perfect.’ Baldwin wrinkled his nose at his suddenly teary eyes. Liv pressed a kiss to his cheek, and stood Hugo up so he could pat his father.

Author's Notes

A witch's power and their scent are two different things. For example, Marthe described Diana's power as "sweet and clear, like Spring", but her scent is willow sap and chamomile.

Liv’s power smells like tulip and marigold, and her scent is as described above.

Diana described Jack as smelling of warm bread when he was a child, so I think that’s sort of the default setting for babies in the ADOW universe.

[britishassistant]

Eurydice and Izanami Didn’t Complain Half As Much

The human won’t take the bed.

Beel’s honestly begun measuring his interactions with the human by what it won’t do more than what it will.

It won’t eat or drink anything other than bottled water, even when its movements are growing so slow and sluggish that it makes Beel’s belly rumble both in commiseration and with the promise of easy (if unsatisfyingly stringy) prey. It’s been nearly two weeks already— it frightens him how easily it can deny itself, even when Lucifer forces it to sit with them at breakfast, lunch and dinner, scowling down at the table full of food but not eating any of it.

It won’t stop trying to escape the Devildom, slowly driving up Lucifer’s blood pressure with every attempt to slip out of the House of Lamentation, to scale the fences at R.A.D., to run away when escorted into town. It even tried to escape when he threw the fridge at Mammon for his pudding and it missed and went through its room, using the confusion of the fight to jump out of the now broken window, only for his eldest brother to materialize outside and use it as a projectile to knock him and Mammon out of their brawl.

And now it won’t take the bed.

Instead, it’s trying to curl up on the floor under the couch, without even a pillow.

“I can take the couch.” He tries again. “You have the bed.”

The human snorted. “Did you not hear me the first time? I don’t want the bed or the couch. I want to sleep here.”

“On the ground.” Beel says doubtfully.

”Yes.” 

“In your uniform.” Beel eyes the wrinkled skirt and shoe’d feet of the human.

“Yes.”

”Without a pillow.”

”...Well I won’t say no if you have one to spare.” The human admits grudgingly. “But I’m sleeping here, and that’s final.”

Beel puzzles over this statement. “Are you going to try to escape during the night if you sleep there?”

There’s a suspiciously long silence. The human won’t look him in the eye.

”...no.” It says, unconvincingly.

He thinks he’s starting to understand the twitch that’s been forming in Lucifer’s left eye. Does this human not know the meaning of taking a break? It’s like dealing with Belphie’s stubbornness when it comes to waking up or getting out of bed, but in reverse.

”Fine.”

The human’s face brightens for the first time since he’s met it. “Finally, at least one of you lot is sen—“

Beel sweeps all the sheets and pillows off his bed onto the floor, and goes to the cupboard and pulls out the extra bedding to add to the pile.

”Whaaaat are you doing?” The human asks.

”Sleeping here.” Beel says innocently, trying to get comfortable on the padding he’s laid down, creating a sort of nest for himself between the couch and the door. One that the human won’t be able to pass without risking stepping on him if they try to sneak out. “And that’s final.”

The human looks almost comically offended, staring at him in open-mouthed indignation.

It huffs and snatches a pillow from his pile for itself, turning it’s back on him with purpose, like Asmo in a snit. “Whatever. You get the lights then. I can’t sleep unless it’s dark.”

”Sure.” He replies agreeably, standing to flick them off and grinning where the human can’t see him. It’s kind of fun messing with them, maybe even more fun than teasing Mammon or the angel chihuahua. The absent-minded thought wanders through his brain, wondering if this would’ve been what Lilith would’ve been like, if she’d survived the fall with them. She always got pouty when she was teased too.

Then Beel realizes what he’s thinking, and the gaping maw of guilt in the pit of his stomach becomes unbearable. The smile drops from his lips as he flicks the lights off.

He rummages in his drawer until he finds what he’s looking for. He munches on his sandwich as he fumbles his way back to his bed for the night.

”Are—are you seriously eating again?” The human’s tone is incredulous.

”I’m hungry.” He mutters darkly, polishing off the last few bites and ripping open the packet of chips as his stomach gurgles again.

The gurgling continues even after the pangs in his stomach have stopped. 

Beel’s lived a long time. Long enough to be able to distinguish and recognize each of his stomach noises telling him what he’s hungry for.

That was not his stomach noise.

”...”

”...You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

The human shifts in the dark, little more than a shapeless mass under the couch. “I’m fine. I’ve dealt with worse for longer than this.”

Beel...doesn’t know if he likes the sound of that. “If you’re hungry, you should eat.”

That provokes a bitter laugh. “Ha! Words of an adult who’s never gone without.”

He scowls at its shape in the dark. “I’m always going without. Nothing keeps me full. Nothing makes me full. I can eat and eat and eat, and I’ll still be as hungry as I was when I started. But even eating a little when I can is better than not eating anything at all.”

He can smell it, the human’s scent almost choking at this proximity. It’s odd, a spicy, rich scent like cardamom studded pork with an undercurrent of something...not quite right to it. Almost curdled, somehow.

Beel’s mouth salivates, no matter how many chips he tries to fill it with. His stomach and tastebuds can handle any food, no matter how long it’s been left out to sour. In some cases, he finds it improves the flavor of his meal. He’s never eaten a living human that’s smelled spoiled before though.

He wonders what it tastes like.

”Well if you can find me some human food that I know won’t trap me here for all eternity, then I’ll eat.” The human growls back. “Or, even better idea! Just stop wasting everyone’s time and send me home altogether! Then you and your brothers and me and mine can all live happily ever after the way we were meant to. Out of each other’s hair.”

Oh.

Oh.

“You have brothers?” He tries to keep the tremble in his voice under control.

Tries not to picture Belphie, miserable and alone and lost in the human world, fighting with all the impotent ferocity of this human to get out, get out, get away, get back to him.

He misses Belphie. He misses Belphie.

The human shifts again in the dark. If the light under the door from the corridor could pass Beel’s bulk, he thinks he’d see it glisten off it’s wet eyes peering at him. “Well. One biological one. And an adopted one, and an adopted sister who’s his biological sister, but it’s. Complicated.”

Beel contemplates this. “Siblings are siblings. We’re not all related by blood.”

“I know that.” The human snaps, sounding oddly irritated. “It’s just...are they your adopted siblings if you and your best friend kinda adopted them together? Like, Shio and Asahi call us all ‘big brother’ and ‘big sister’, but who do we say has custody, really? Cause they love him and he really loves them, and they’re so good for each other, and I don’t wanna take that away from him, but...”

Beel doesn’t quite understand the thread of this complaint. Not in the least because his best friends have always been his brothers and sister, no matter how much they drive each other up the wall.

“Is your best friend not your brother too?”

There’s a sharp crack.

“FUCK!”

Beel’s salivating gets worse at the sudden iron tang of blood.

“Are you okay?” He asks, as he desperately tries to swallow it back down, standing to go grab some more food and maybe a towel for the human.

There’s a pained groan. “Y-yeah. Just...tried to sit up. Forgot about the couch.”

“You can still take the bed.” Beel points out, warring between trying not to breathe in through his nose and get ambushed by more of that delicious scent and keeping his mouth shut enough not to drool all over himself.

“No, I’m sleeping here, fuck off.” The human grumbles petulantly. It yelps a little when he throws the handtowel at it.

Beel inhales gratefully as the scent is finally muffled somewhat.

“And no. He’s not. My brother, that is. He’s my best friend.” The human said, as if the distinction was somehow important.

“…What’s the difference?” Beel asks, confused.

The human sighs explosively, as if this is a monumental chore he’s forced on it. “I-I don’t kn—! You’re related to one and not the other?! I just—! Are your brothers seriously all you have, because if so, you need to get out more, you know that?! Find people who won’t belittle you every damn second of the day. Get more healthy relationships, or all that jazz. Fuck, I don’t know, I’m not a therapist!”

Beel chews on the first mouthful of his second bag of chips as he digests this tirade. Apart from the insults towards his brothers, the meat of their argument about the difference between “best friend” and “adopted sibling” seems to be centered around the idea of the relations between both? But technically, one wouldn’t be any more related by blood to an adopted sibling than they would be to a best friend (a fact that Levi has tried to impress upon him many times when trying to explain the ‘ships’ in some cartoon or another), so what’s the distinction…?

Something clicks in Beel’s head, as he momentarily halts in chewing his ninth serving of chips.

“Oh.” He says, swallowing his mouthful. “Are you in love with your best friend romantically or something?”

There’s a moment of silence.

Then the human explodes into a flurry of noise, sputtering and swearing and near-shrieking unintelligibly, it’s scent growing stronger as blood and adrenaline pumps through it on what smells like double-time.

Beel has no idea what the big deal is, as the human lobs the pillow he gave them in his general direction and misses by a mile, but that certainly explains a few things.

He tilts the end of the bag up towards his mouth as he reflects on how whiny Asmo will be once he learns the real reason this human has been ignoring him so throughly. It almost makes him want to hold off on telling his brothers, but the idea of all the colors that Lucifer could turn, knowing precisely why the human won’t play his and Diavolo’s game, makes it far too good an opportunity to pass up.

Lilith would’ve loved something like this, a story of “true love” and “star-crossed romance”. Belphie will find it hilarious when he gets back, a human trying to defy the forces much greater than it for something so fickle and fleeting.

In the moment, Beel just tries to tune out the human’s shouting as he rolls over to get some sleep.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

I'mma be selfish and ask for two if you're still taking sensory prompts 26 and 32 with either Steve or Ransom.

A/n- You get a mini one after the first, because it was a thought that wouldnt leave my mind. 

Sensory Prompts

26. The smell of Cologne/Perfume on warm skin

32. The smell of blood

You stood between Steve's thighs as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet, his hands sliding up and down the back of your thighs as you sighed looking down at him. “You're really sure about this Steve?” You wrinkle your nose, your fingers trailing along with the bristles on his jaw. “Because once I start, there is no going back.” 

He gave a soft chuckle, tilting his head to press his lips against your fingers, and arched a single brow at you. “Doll, it grows back. Mine faster than most. I have to look presentable for the video, plus I gotta wear the cowl for it. I gotta look a certain way. I promise, I will grow it right back.” He took your hand pressed against his face and  let his lips rest against your wrist, the scent of your perfume swirled in his senses warmly. Your skin was warm to his lips as they pressed his promise to your wrist, his way of securing what he said for you. 

The images the perfume brought to his mind was entirely a sinful delight to the super soldier. Memories of you underneath him, your fingers clenching the taunt muscles of his back as he surged into you, making you cry his name out with a “Fuck Steve.” Your nails would drag down his back leaving deep welts till you dug in again, whimpering out a plea of nonsense. 

“You my good girl Sweetheart” He would grunt above you, and you would nod teary eyed, your lips swollen from demanding kisses and teeth pulling out more of those moans from you. “no no Sweetheart, let me hear you.” 

Your voice would crack slightly chanting his name, and it would mingle with the smell of heated sex and your perfume rubbing into his skin while he pinned you to the mattress, loosing himself in you. 

You huffed a bit drawing him from the memories your perfume brought him, and he lifted his gaze to you, seeing that you still weren't entirely on board with this. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, you let your hands move to brace on his shoulders, wondering if a pout would make him change his resolve. It was so incredibly rare he let the hair on his face grow out, even though it was the look he knew that could drive you feral . He saved it, a weapon in his arsenal to bring you down. When he came back from weeks away, he wouldn't bother shaving before heading back to your tower apartment. Steve would sneak into bed, traveling up your body with a hunger that blew you apart, unable to be put back together till he had his fill. It would leave burns for days against the inside of your thighs and along the softness of your belly.

“I Promise?” He tried again, and you relented with a sigh, muttering under your breath while you held out your hand for the shaving cream. 

“You are making me butcher and I don’t appreciate it Steve Rogers.” you shook the canister, and squirted a hefty palm full to spread it on his face. Steve's hands continued up and down the back of your thighs, once in a while giving a firm squeeze at the bottom of your ass before resuming. You set the can aside and washed your hands before picking up the razor. 

“I really do promise Y/N.” Steve said gently while you eased the razor along his jawline, a movement you were familiar with as you’ve done this whole dance with him more times than you could count, biting your lip while concentrating. 

“Mmhm” You hummed as if you didn’t believe him while tilting his head to catch the angle correctly. He was easy in your hands, tilting back and forth as your fingers pressed to certain spots, catching hints of perfume that was making him dizzy with lust. 

“Fuck baby, you smell so damn good.” He rumbled and you chuckled softly as you tilted his head the other way to continue, halfway done now while the razor swiped away his bristles to show soft cheeks and strong jawline that tensed now and then. You smirked a bit to yourself, knowing he was trying to hold back his arousal. 

You smirked down at him, feeling like it was payback for making you have to shave off his beard, that was just starting to get full again. You draw the razor along the last stripe when your hand slipped and you felt it nick him sharply. He hissed through clenched teeth as the red marred the perfect white of leftover shaving cream. Your mind pushed back your joy and guilt riddled you as you pulled away. “Oh shit Stevie, I’m sorry.” you gasped as you went to grab a towel to press against the side of his face. 

“Doll, hey it's okay.” He reached up to take the towel from your hand and dabbed it against his face. “By far the gentlest injury i've endured.” He winked and you pulled back to let him take over. Your nostrils flared as the sharp iron tang from the bit of blood filled the small bathroom. It had been ages since you had done that, and you felt all the more guilty for it, especially since you had given him such a hard time before. 

Steve moved to a stand, tilting his face back and forth while running a palm along his cheeks a moment. “Smooth as always Doll.” Turning back to see your expression, and widened his eyes. “Doll, sweetheart its all okay. Be healed before I even leave the house.” He assured you, and he drew you into him. 

“I know, but damn it, I haven't done that in ages.” You wiggled the tip of your nose at him, and he shook his head with a laugh. 

“It happens Doll, but you know what. You can make it up to me. I still got an hour before I have to leave.” 

“How's that?” You ask, and he suddenly scooped you up, making you yelp while he left the bathroom. 

“Let me love on you till I gotta leave.” 

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

Steve followed the dark hallway, lights flickering above him as he held his shield before him. The comm in his ear buzzed with other team members checking in. Sam’s voice spoke his name, trying to get him to check in, give his coordinates. “Steve, Man come on. Dont make me send Nat in there to get you out.” 

His hand lifted to press against it. “I'm fine, get the team on the quinjet. I will be there in a moment.” 

“Steve-” Sam started, knowing that he wouldn't pull out even when he should. But Steve knew he was close, his enhanced senses picked up something the others couldn't possibly know about. The scent of your perfume. So distinctly you, Steve didn't even hesitate. He knew without a doubt you were here. And he wasn't about to leave you again. 

It was getting stronger the further down he went, speaking to Sam. “I'm not leaving her behind.” 

“Just be careful Steve… you don't know how she's changed, what they might have done to her.” 

You changed? Never. You were Steve’s girl, that one constant in his life. He steeled himself at the last door, hearing something clang behind it. He pushed the door open, the shield still held before him protection. 

The hell he walked into, he wouldn't forget it. You had a knife fisted in your hand, blood was so overwhelming all over the room, assaulting his senses that he almost couldn't smell your perfume anymore. So strong Steve could just taste metallic on his tongue as his jaw dropped in shock. 

The agent was pleading when you twirled that knife in your grasp and plunged it as hard as you could into his chest. You lifted your arm and wiped at the blood that squirted on your face, tendrils of hair curled around your face when Steve uttered your name. 

“Y/N?” 

Your eyes snapped up, almost snarling as you reached down to wrench your knife from the agent's chest. “Who the hell is Y/N?”

[dewitty1]

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor

birdsofshore

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: First Time, Clubbing, Coming Out, Drunken Confessions, Kissing, Muggle Life, Antagonism, Sexual Tension, Smut, Voyeurism, Frottage, Rimming, Anal Sex, Jealousy, Dancing, Inspired by Music, Virgin Harry, Experienced Draco, Homophobia, Semi-Public Sex, Pining, Muggle London, London Underground

Summary:

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

Excerpt:

The door banged open and a wave of cool air hit Harry in the face. Someone was standing at the sinks and there was a leap of recognition in Harry’s chest; it was Malfoy, looking at himself in the mirror. Malfoy didn’t look to see who had come in, but carried on watching his reflection. Harry thought of another time that he had walked in and found Malfoy standing like this in the toilets. He almost welcomed the thought that Malfoy might turn and hex him again. But this time Malfoy wasn’t crying; instead, he was staring at himself with a knowing smile. In fact, Malfoy looked as if he loved what he saw, and Harry’s first thought was that he couldn’t blame him. If Harry looked like Malfoy, he would also spend a lot of time admiring himself, he suspected, and then wrinkled his nose at his own thought. He didn’t mean— It wasn’t like Harry thought Malfoy was particularly good-looking or anything. It was just that―

Perhaps Harry made some sound, because Malfoy turned around. He looked surprised, but only for a second.

“Potter.”

“Malfoy.”

“I knew you’d be back.” Malfoy tilted one hip and leaned against the sinks in an elegant slouch. His eyes were ringed with make up again, a smoky-grey colour which made his irises look even paler and more silvery. His hair was longer than he had ever worn it at Hogwarts, hanging loose around his face and falling across one eye. His trousers were obscenely tight, his shirt as thin and gauzy as the one he’d worn last week, and he wore a string of beads looped around and around his neck. He looked… he was so lean, and his face was so sharp, it gave him a kind of hungry look. Or maybe that was just the way he made Harry feel. Malfoy looked blatant, that’s what it was. Just standing there, looking like he did, so obviously wanting to be looked at.

“I’m just leaving,” Harry said.

“Didn’t find what you were looking for?” Malfoy’s face was so fucking infuriating. Like he knew something that Harry didn’t. Harry wanted to turn and walk out. He wanted to get hold of Malfoy and push him against the sinks, shake him till his teeth rattled. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted, but he tried to meet Malfoy’s challenging stare evenly and not show how disconcerting the whole thing was. How unnerved he felt, to see Malfoy standing here, looking so dauntless. Looking so queer.

“I was on my way home. I only came in for one drink.”

“Funny place to come… on your own, for a drink.”

“Look, Malfoy, I don’t know what you’re getting at. I fancied a drink, now I need a piss, and then I’m going home.” Harry moved towards the urinals, hoping Malfoy would take the hint and bugger off.

“I saw you watching me. Last week. When I was with that Muggle.”

Harry turned around again. Malfoy’s smile was disgustingly sly. Harry felt his hand twitch towards his wand. He was itching to wipe that expression off Malfoy’s face. “No you didn’t.” It sounded feeble, like a retort a six-year-old would throw in the playground.

“Oh, come on. You couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

“Merlin! What do you expect? You were right out in the open. Everyone could see you.” This wasn’t entirely true, but… Harry glowered, remembering how shameless Malfoy had been.

“But not everyone was staring like they’d never seen anything so fascinating in their whole lives.”

Harry tried to keep his voice steady. “I was wondering what the fuck you were doing in a Muggle bar, wearing make-up and a see-through blouse, to be honest, Malfoy.”

Malfoy’s eyes widened, then he laughed. “I think we both know exactly what I was doing. I plan to be doing it again quite soon, in fact.” He turned back to the mirror and fiddled with the button on his shirt. “Let’s face it. We’re all looking for the same thing in this place.”

Speak for yourself, Harry thought. He wanted to tell Malfoy that he didn’t know anything about Harry or what he was looking for, but his throat felt tight with anger and he felt like he might lose his temper quite spectacularly if Malfoy didn’t piss off out of here right now.

“Well, have fun, Potter.” Malfoy gave himself one last look in the mirror, and smiled. “See you again, no doubt.”

The door swung shut behind Malfoy, and it took Harry a moment to remember what he had come in for. As he turned to the urinals and undid his flies, he wasn’t expecting to find that he was half hard.

(•‾⌣‾•)و ̑̑♡`*✧ ✰ ｡*

[the-caffeine-hero]

More Than Enough

Kurapika x Reader - Angst with a (sorta?) happy ending? - Crossposted on AO3!

It was late, the night air piercingly quiet as it always seemed to be on the nights you spent alone. It was to be expected, of course, when you stopped to consider who you shared your living space with. You have known Kurapika for what seemed like a lifetime yet it had only been a short two years. Although, the young man you had met those two years ago was not the same man you now know. While you have heard the whispers between friends that he had grown to be more handsome and intriguing, and I suppose you wouldn’t disagree on the handsome thing but you missed the boy you originally knew. You never failed to notice the markings of overworking and stress that painted the blondes face. You would consider yourself an expert on the said face, you hesitate to admit it but you spend more time that anyone should staring at his face. Some would say that you harbored a small (immensely large) crush on the Kurta but you tried your best to not think about it too much. It wasn't as if you were shy or would rather that he make the first move, rather you had a very early realization of the slim chances of a relationship with him. The possible romantic relationship seemed to be a disaster waiting to happen so you held your tongue. That thought aside, you loved him despite his, unfortunately, self-destructive tendencies and dedicated revenge plans. You were just as happy to spend what little moments you could with him. That was more than enough.

If almost like waking up from a deep sleep, you were pulled away from your thoughts by the clicks and twists of the front door unlocking. Kurapika trudged up the stairs at an almost snail pace. He gave you a small smile as the two of you made eye contact, then retreating into his bedroom. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in once the blonde had passed you. Your heart ached for Kurapika. This wasn’t the first time he had come home this way. It wasn’t always this way, but recently it had only become worse. More late returns home, fewer hours of sleep, and one-word conversations. Your lips pursed as your head fell back against the couch. Were you wrong to be worried? Against your better judgment, you moved to follow him. While you knew there were no romantic ties, you still were one of his friends. You had a right to be at least a little concerned. His bedroom door was closed which was unsurprising. Even at the best of times, Kurapika was a very private man. Your fingers lingered centimeters from the door, your next steps uncertain. While your worries seemed valid to you, you still felt an invisible roadblock stopping you from knocking on the door. It was quite possible that Kurapika would welcome the company but he also could very well want some time alone. You took a breath, grounding yourself as you let your hand connect with his bedroom door, your knuckles making a soft rap on the door. You had no idea what you expected but it wasn’t to find yourself coming face to face with the blonde man.

“Should you not already be in bed?” Kurapika asked as he leaned his head against the doorframe. You smiled softly at him as your eyes met.

“I could say the same about you. I’m not keeping you am I?” You asked, your fingers twiddling with the hem of your shirt. He gives you another small smile, just like the one from before.

“No, you’re never a bother.” He stated almost matter-of-factly. This left a quick yet somehow agonizingly slow silence between the two of you.

“Can I come in?” You asked, breaking the stark silence. He nodded at your request, moving away from the door, allowing you to enter. Every time you saw his room you felt a tang of disappointment. It was barren save for a bed, a closet, and a bookshelf. You knew that Kurapika was not a materialistic man by any means as well as his stay not being 100% permanent, yet you still hoped to see him settle in just a little bit. Kurapika sat down on the bed, his eyes trailing your own as you looked around the room. As your eyes locked, he opened his mouth to speak. You were quick to cut him off before even a single sound could escape his lips.

“Kurapika, I am worried about you.” You stated abruptly. The blonde gazes at you with knowing eyes as he sinks deeper into the mattress.

“There is no reason for alarm. I am quite alright.” He responded with the words he knew youtube wanted to hear. You feel your lips press tightly together before you speak again.

“I don’t believe you, Kurapika. You’ve been overworking yourself and pushing everyone away recently. I know that not everything is okay.” You responded, your words flowing steadily like a waterfall. You take a seat next to Kurapika on the bed, your hands reaching to capture his. You feel a slight blush crawl it's way up your neck at the action.

“I’m not trying to say that you have to stop. In fact, I admire your dedication more than words could ever describe but don’t you think that you deserve a chance to feel good and for once not weighed down by such a heavy responsibility?” You ask, your mind running a million miles a minute, Anyone close to Kurapika knew that his mission was a sensitive topic and you couldn’t help but pray that he knew and understood that you didn’t mean for your words to come across as unsupportive. Granted, you would not call yourself supportive as you couldn’t help but notice the negative effects that that revenge had on the blonde. You could never fully understand the pain he felt but you understood why he had such an immense desire to fulfill his plans. Who wouldn’t want an answer for such terrible actions? You could feel the blondes fists clench at your words. The stark feel of the flexing of each finger against your own caused your heart to jump.

“Weighed down?” He said, the words almost hissing from his lips. “You have no idea what being weighed down is like. The atrocities that I have seen.” He continues, his voice rising slightly as he averts his eyes from yours. You felt the tips of your fingers being to resemble static while you try to gently hold the young man’s hand. The two of you had always had a mutual understanding of each other's emotional boundaries. You tended to wear your heart on your sleeve in most situations, and for what may seem surprising to some, Kurapika was an excellent listener. He on the other hand was the expert in bottling up each and every emotion. While you undoubtedly respected that but you also knew the immense damage that could cause in someone.

“You know that I would never try to stop you or stand in your way. I never want to downplay how hard every single day is for you or am I trying to pretend to be able to understand the pain or challenges you go through. I just…” You pause, your hands moving to caress his face, your thumbs shaking as they swipe across his cheeks. “I don’t want to see you throw your life away. The path you're on isn’t a safe one. What good is revenge if you die?” You stammer out, your hands falling from his face to a resting position in your lap. You hesitated to make eye contact with Kurapika as you could already see the faint rim of red in his irises from the corner of your vision. Before you could speak again, Kurapika let out a sigh and stood up, softly walking to the door, opening it without a word. You tensed up at this action, that static feeling traveling from your fingertips to all over your body. You stood up, your legs slightly shaking as you walked towards the door. You couldn’t work up the courage to look him in the face as you walked through the doorway. The moment you passed through, the door shut behind you softly. For a moment you were dazed. What did this mean? Was he angry with you? While Kurapika had been known to be a hot head sometimes, his friends generally were not the subjects of it. Your body shivered at the thought of being on the receiving end of that temper. You steeled yourself, shoving the thought from your mind as you disappeared into your own bedroom.

As you fell back into your bed, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that rattled through your mind. Was something wrong? Everything seemed bad, but could things be worse? Your thoughts traveled to what life was like without Kurapika’s presence in your home. It was a temporary arrangement when your roommate moved out. He needed a place to stay while he took care of business in the city and you happily offered the spare room. You would have been overjoyed to have him stay forever. You knew that was impossible but it never stopped you from thinking it. You shifted in your bed, the sheets wrinkling around you. Perhaps you were overthinking? Was it better to be safe than sorry? Against your better judgment, you slipped off of your bed to return to the blonde's side. You didn’t necessarily feel any guilt but you swallowed your pride and opted to apologize for the press on such a sensitive subject. Kurapika’s door was slightly ajar when you returned to it which was a cause for concern. You gently pushed the door open to see what little evidence of Kurapika in the room was gone. Not even the few books that normally say upon the bookshelf were there. They were gone as if the man was never there. You quickly slipped your way down the hall, nearly tripping down the small staircase that led to the front door. As if this moment was scripted in a film you saw Kurapika. He had one hand on the doorknob and another holding a suitcase. Your eyes widened as the two of you made eye contact. The blonde looked the same as he did when he first arrived home. There was not a single trace of anything other than those familiar overworked eyes.

“Where are you going?” You asked with hushed breath. The blonde only could look at you. The world was once again that familiar and lonely quiet. “Kurapika, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just worried.” You began to ramble out, the words as shaky and unsteady as an earthquake. “You know I love you. I just want to see you happy and I know you won't truly be until you complete your mission but I am scared you won't live to see the end of it.” You continued, rattling off every thought your mind could produce. Your brain felt the pull of a sort of fight or flight mode. The static had once again returned to your body, your teeth chattering as you felt thick tears roll down your cheeks. Your gaze fell to the floor as you felt your hands clasp tightening together. You feared the blonde had already walked out the door when you heard the thunk of the suitcase on the floor. Your head snapped to look at Kurapika. His face had not changed, not a single muscle had moved. “Are we not friends anymore? I promise I’ll never bring it up again.” You say, a slight hiccup in your voice. The blonde stiffened at the question.

“It is not as if we are no longer friends. I fear that I cause you distress. I am not suitable to be sharing this space with you.” Kurapika explained, his voice oh so calm. You blinked, the remaining tears escaping your eyes. Had he not been upset with you? Granted, you had thought that it wouldn’t be the case but his actions up until this point seemed to say otherwise. “I greatly appreciate your support to me but I believe that it would be best for you if I took my leave.” Kurapika continued, not hesitating to also add on that he would transfer you some Jenny to cover his portion of the rent until you were able to find a replacement. You gazed at him, your eyes still wet from the sudden wave of tears. The blonde went to pick up his suitcase but you quickly grabbed his hand with your own. Your eyes met and you wondered if yours reflected the same look of loss that his did.

“Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.” You whispered, your voice hoarse. You felt his thumb gently move across the top of your hand. Normally, a soft action like this directed at you would cause an immeasurably large grin but now it seemed to just live to taunt you as his thumb left your skin feeling like pinpricks.

“I grew angry at you for worrying for me. You do not deserve such a cruel action, especially in your own home. I apologize but this is for your best interest.” He repeated again. You felt as if your head was caught in a whirlpool, your hand still tight around his. How could you possibly imagine a life without him in it? Your mind flipped through each happy memory that the two of you shared. What was your favorite? Perhaps it was the time you first dragged him out to a new and popular restaurant that had just opened downtown? You had told him that maybe some high profile guests would be there and how it couldn’t possibly hurt to check it out. The two of you never did find anyone of interest other than each other. A three-hour meal with Kurapika felt like a blur as you became enchanted by every word that escaped his lips. Maybe you favored the time you caught him reading a very old and weathered copy of Dino-Hunter? He had offered to let you borrow the book if you were interested but you opted to sit by his side and read along with him. There were small notes in the margins written in Kurta and he explained what each one said, you even learned a couple of words by the end of the night. There were plenty of wonderful moments just like those that meant more to you than anything. His presence in your home was what allowed you such treasured interactions. Only you could say you experienced such things with him. Maybe it was selfish but you weren’t ready to give up the chance at more. You took a deep breath before you directed your eyes to stare deeply into his own.

“Kurapika, I love you. I love you more than a friend. There is nothing that you could do that would make me not love you. You being in my life is the thing I am the most thankful for every single day. I just want to continue spending my days with you at my side. I understand if you do not reciprocate my romantic feelings towards you, I know that you have a lot on your plate but as a friend, could you please stay?” You asked, your voice sturdy. It was now or never. You never imagined that you would confess these feelings to him in a situation like this. For once, the lapse in conversation was not quiet, rather you could hear your heartbeat as it thumped strongly against your chest. You didn’t fail to notice the look of shock that took over the blonde's face. If you weren’t in such a heated moment, you may have wondered how he didn’t pick up on these feelings earlier.

“I was not aware that you had such feelings for me.” He stated, the shock laced in his voice. You could only stare back at him, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for his answer. “I apologize but I still do not believe my presence in your life is good for you. You said it yourself, the path I am following is not safe, meaning that I would not want to wrap you up in it.” He explained, the false calm clear in his voice. You took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Kurapika, I don’t care what path you’re on. I just want to walk that path with you. Would I prefer you not to die? Yes! That doesn’t mean that I would just give up on my feelings for you. I have fallen in love with you despite your flaws. Please...just tell me yes or no.” You responded, your exhaustion apparent in your voice. How much more did you need to do so that he would understand your love for him? You could see him shift in his spot and you wondered if it was nerves. Did Kurapika ever become nervous? “You don’t need to reciprocate but I only want to know if you will stay with me. Even as a friend I would be more than happy. I promise I will throw the romantic love I have out the door. It won’t be awkward for either of us.” You reassured, hoping to pull his answer out. Without a word, Kurapika picked up the suitcase once again. Your breath hitched in your throat. Was he going to leave? Much to your surprise, the blonde retreated up the stairs. You hesitantly followed him up as the two of you returned to the bedroom that you, not less than an hour ago, had exchanged your intense words. He sat down in the exact same spot he had before, and you followed suit. It was like a strange dance the way you responded to each of his movements. He turned his body to look at you and you couldn't help but wonder if this action was his version of an answer. Before you could speak up, the blonde quickly tugged you into an embrace, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. At this moment you inhaled sharply, your hands slowly moving to wrap around his body. If you weren’t paying attention you would have missed the words that slipped from his mouth, muffled by the contact of your skin.

“Thank you.” He muttered, his lips grazing your neck. You couldn’t help but feel confused but you didn’t dare to interrupt this moment. You pulled your body away from his, catching his eyes for a moment where you couldn’t help but notice the red that spilled into the whites of his eyes. For once, the red was not from being a Kurta, rather it was from the tears that now made a home on the shoulder of your shirt. You shuffled yourself under the covers as you gestured to him to do the same. He compiled without a word as he slipped under the covers and back into your arms. Perhaps you would talk more in the morning but for now, you held him close to you as you patiently allowed the tears to fall from his eyes. The two of you were as close as two separate people could be as your legs intertwined with each other and your arms tightly wrapped around the other's sides. You felt his head lay against your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair, noting that it had gotten longer than normal. You pressed your lips against his forehead, pressing a kiss to it gently. Your lips ghosted the skin before whispering to him a soft goodnight before closing your eyes, assuming that he would do the same. The two of you drifted off to sleep listening to the rhythmic beat of your hearts intertwining. You would ask him in the morning more, but for now, this was more than enough.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

Drabble- Fuck Off, Clown

Summary: It’s Halloween, and Jamie’s outfit isn’t quite to Steve’s liking. Warnings: Non- some bad language...some almost smut, but nothing major...and a Super Soldier with coulrophobia... A/N: So if you all remember in Phobias, Steve admits to Katie he has a fear of clowns. I do as well, so this came out of a little fun chat with my Evangers (you know who you are girls) as a further expansion on the incident referred to in The Devil Wears Nada. Takes place during the 5 years post Snap. Hope you enjoy!

October 2022

“All set?” Katie asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs as Steve walked back into the hall having loaded their bags into the car. They were heading off to Tony’s lake-house for a few days where he was throwing a bit of a Halloween party, nothing major but it was a chance for the kids to get dressed up in costumes and eat a load of candy whilst the adults could kick back and drink. Katie was looking forward to it for two reasons. Firstly, it was always nice to gather together with friends and family, well those of them that were left post snap-it made her feel normal, and she could push that persistent feeling of sadness that seemed to manifest on a daily basis, back down into the depth of her mind. And secondly, she was a little excited because she had no idea what Emmy or Jamie’s outfits were going to be. Emmy had asked a month or so ago if she could be in charge of getting the pair of them costumes and Katie had agreed, simply handing over her card when she wanted to order whatever it was off the internet. She’d even resisted the urge to check her statement to see what it was as Emmy had demanded she didn’t try and find out. Katie had a sneaking suspicion that Tony had also been involved in these costume choices, as the last time her brother had been over a few weeks ago, the pair of them had been huddled on the large arm chair, sniggering as they looked at something on Tony’s phone. With that in mind she was expecting Jamie to come down in some form of Iron Man or Captain America costume and she had every intention of filming Steve’s response.

“Yup. Locked and loaded.” Steve nodded, dropping a kiss to her cheek. As soon as the kids are ready we can go.”

“No rush.” Katie shrugged, looking at her watch as they walked into the kitchen. “We don’t need to be there for a few hours.” She wrinkled her nose and slapped at Steve’s hand as he went to peek under the foil wrapped plate on the side. He sharply withdrew it and grinned at her.

“Tell me that’s a pie.”

“Apple and pumpkin, but it’s for the party.”

Steve pouted and she laughed and jerked her head behind her “There’s another there as I knew you wouldn’t be able to wait.”

“You-” Steve pecked her lips “-are” another peck “-the best.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere Captain.” She smirked as his lips hovered over hers, before he deepened the kiss slightly, both his hands sliding down to give her ass a playful squeeze before he stepped back and walked over to his coveted prize. Steve peeled back the little cloth that was over the top and gave a little groan that was positively sinful as he inhaled the smell.

“Don’t eat that straight out of the pie dish.” Katie warned him as he made his way to the freezer for the ice cream, “I was gonna cut a few slices for the kids to munch on the way.”

“Then they can get their own.” Steve grumbled a little, but he grabbed a plate none the less.

“Oh yeah, where from?” Katie asked, her hands on her hips.

“Don’t know, don’t care…” Steve muttered as he cut himself a huge slice of the coveted pie. He ladled a generous amount of vanilla ice cream on top then carried it over to the breakfast bar, sitting down as Katie gathered the rest of the food items she had said she would bring which included a huge dish of Mac and Cheese that she’d coloured green with food colouring, spaghetti and meatballs that were supposed to be worms,  cinnamon and apple cookies in the shape of pumpkins and a batch of home-made raspberry and cherry gin which had been done using the raspberries and cherries from the brambles and trees in their small orchard at the bottom of the garden. She began packing it all into a hamper as Steve took the first bit of his pie and gave another groan.

“You know…” he swallowed, waving his fork at her as he gave her a playful grin “I think this pie is actually better than sex.”

Katie looked at him, arching her eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“It’s a very close call.” He nodded.

“Well maybe I should make you a pie once a week instead of letting you get me on my back.” Katie looked at him, closing the lid on the basket and pushing it to one side, leaning over the breakfast bar.

“Ok, first off we have sex way more than once a week.” Steve pointed his fork at her “and second-“ his eyes glinted cheekily “-you’re not always on your back.”

“True.” Katie pursed her lips and reached for his fork, snatching it from his hand “But if you think I’m baking a pie more than once a week you’ve got another thing coming.” She used the fork to take a piece of the sweet treat along with a large blog of ice cream and shoved it in her mouth, closing her eyes. She moaned a little, ensuring that the noise that left her throat was as sinful as she could make it, before she opened her eyes and used her thumb to wipe at a little trickle of ice cream in the corner of her mouth. With her eyes locked on Steve she sucked her thumb clean and smirked a little at the familiar glint of dark in his eyes that he always got when he was turned on.

“You’re lucky you’re the other side of the breakfast bar.” He leaned forward a little, elbows resting on the marble surface, his voice a low timbre that sent those familiar sparks up Katie’s spine.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Katie asked innocently, ignoring the sudden flutter she’d felt between her legs at his tone.

“Because if you weren’t you be in my lap right now testing my theory.”

“Shame…” she nodded, looking around. “I mean it’s not like you could reach and drag me over it or anything.”

“Well I could…” Steve agreed “But there’s a piece of pie in the way. And it’s too good to waste.”

“You’re a jerk!” Katie shook her head as Steve laughed, before he leaned back in the stool and patted his right thigh

“C’mere pretty girl.”

Katie grinned, the sound of him calling her pretty girl always did things to her, as did the soft instruction to ‘come here’ in his Brooklyn accent. She rounded the bar and he reached out, easily pulling her onto his lap so she was perched sideways, legs hanging over the side of his right thigh as he curled his left arm around her waist, right gently resting on her thigh. Katie’s right arm slid round his neck and he titled his face to look at her.

“Just for the record you taste far better than any pie you make.” He grinned and Katie’s mouth fell open at his dirty comment.

“Steven Grant Rogers!” she snorted, slapping his shoulder slightly and he laughed, his hand on her thigh tightening its grip slightly, fingers curling round the toned muscles which were evident once again due to Katie having started training again. Steve actually kind of missed the softness that she’d had since having Jamie but he was damned if he was going to tell her that. As long as she was comfortable in her body that was fine by him. He leaned towards her slightly, his nose bumping hers a little as she gently trailed her hand over the nape of his neck, nails scratching just below his hair line above the collar of his black sweater.

“Love you.” He said gently, his lips brushing hers and she smiled, her fingers tanging in the hair at the back of his head.

“More than apple pie?” she teased and he chuckled.

“Infinitely Mrs Rogers.”

“More than Mac and Cheese?” Steve hesitated and Katie scoffed “Rude.” Before he laughed again and pressed his lips to hers.

“For the record I love you more than anything.” He smiled “Well, apart from the kids.”

“I’ll accept that exception.” Katie chuckled, he mouth finding his again. The kiss deepened, Katie letting out a soft sigh as his tongue brushed against hers, tasting the apple pie and Ice Cream he had been eating before. Steve’s hand skated up the outside of her thigh coming to rest on her hip, finger tips brushing the strip of skin where her top had ridden up slightly as her own hand fisted slightly in his hair. Completely lost in one another they almost missed the little footsteps coming down the stairs and the giggles in the hallway. Almost, that is. Steve’s tuned hearing heard it first and he pulled back, looking at Katie who grinned.

“Play your cards right we can finish this later.”

“At Tony’s?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged “Won’t be the first time we fucked in his spare room.”

Steve snorted at her and patted her ass as she hopped off his lap.

“Mom, Dad!” Emmy called “We’re ready for you to see us!”

“We heard!” Katie called back as Steve stood up, grabbing his plate of pie. He took another bite before he wandered into the hallway where he collided with Katie who had stopped dead just outside the door. Frowning he looked up and stopped dead.

A clown.

His 2 year old son was dressed as a fucking clown. And not just any clown, which would have been bad enough, but that bastard clown from IT. The film he refused time and time again to watch because of said bastard clown…which was now stood on the bottom step of the stairs holding a red balloon.

And suddenly, all he could see was that damned clown at Coney Island chasing him through the stalls, Bucky’s laughter echoing in his ears…and then that fucking mirror maze where he’d had the panic attack as he was surrounded by them.

The plate holding his precious pie slipped from his hand and dropped to the tiled floor, where it broke into 3 pieces, its contents splattering all over the grey slate.

“Woah, Dad…didn’t think it would be that scary!” Emmy grinned from behind Jamie as she stood in her outfit, which was a superb replica of the Wicked Witch of the West complete with full green face-paint and a broomstick.

Katie looked over her shoulder at Steve and she could see from his face that he was really struggling to keep it together. Trying not to laugh at the expression of sheer horror on his handsome features, she clamped her lips together and turned to Emmy.

“Your dad’s…” she took a deep breath, trying not to laugh “He’s scared of clowns.”

“Oh…” Emmy frowned “Uncle Tony said he would love it.”

“I bet he did.” Steve bit out a little harshly and Emmy looked at him.

“Are you mad?” she asked and seeing the look on her face Steve inwardly cursed his phobia and his damned brother in law.

“No, honey…” he shook his head “Not at all…you both look…” he trailed off.

“Daddy, look!” Jamie grinned, and he jumped off the bottom step “Balloon!”

He toddled over towards Steve who automatically took a few steps back and Jamie stopped in front of him, right by Katie’s side, a confused expression crossing his painted face. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, pal…I gotta…” Steve exhaled “I gotta put some stuff in the car so we can to go to Uncle Nee’s ok?”

“Kay…” Jamie said a little quietly.

Katie watched, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter as Steve went to move round Jamie, turning sideways so he could keep his eyes on him, before he pushed past Emmy and bolted up the stairs taking them 3 at a time.

The hallway was silent bar the sounds Lucky was making as he cleaned up the remnants of the pie on the floor, not wanting to miss a single crumb of his human food treasure.

“Em, why don’t you two take Lucky and go get in the car, we’ll be out in a little moment.”

“Ok. Come on Jay!” Em said. She grabbed his hand but Jamie, clearly now finding the reaction his dad had as amusing, turned to his mom and made a little growling noise at her. Katie gave a fake scream and jolted back, causing Jamie to cackle a little, tilting his head back in mirth before he toddled after his sister.

As soon as they were out of sight and earshot Katie started to laugh. She laughed so hard that she had to retreat to the kitchen to sit at a chair. She doubled over, clutching at her stomach, trying to gather her breath as the tears poured down her face. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the image of Steve fighting the urge to punt his own son into another room out of her head.

Eventually she managed to sort herself out enough to grab her phone and swiped over to the number she wanted.

“Hey Kiddo.” Tony greeted

“Tony, you…” she started to laugh again “You better be able to run fast because Steve…he’s…”

Tony chuckled “he liked the costume then…”

“Tony he freaked.” She laughed “Like, seriously…poor Steve. I expected like a full Captain America outfit, not that!”

“Well, on this occasion the Spangles just weren’t enough”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He conceded “Did you get it on video?”

“No.” Katie sighed “I was going to but when I saw Pennywise on my damned stairs I knew what was gonna happen so…”

“Shame.” Tony sighed, “We could have played that back later. For science.”

At that point Katie looked up as Steve walked into the kitchen, glancing round.

“He’s not in here…” She chuckled and Steve glared at her, before he gestured to the phone.

“That Tony?”

She nodded.

He reached out and snatched the phone off her, “You’re a dead man.” He growled down the handset, and Katie could hear her brother’s roar of laughter before Steve hung up and tossed the phone down onto the table.

“Calm down!” Katie laughed, standing up “Steve, it’s just a costume.” “Katie, they freak me the hell out!” he shook his head “You don’t…” his hands dropped to his hips and his head dropped “Did you see his face when I backed away?”

“Oh, he’s fine!” Katie said, rubbing Steve’s arms “He couldn’t care less.” Steve took a deep breath and she looked at him “Do you want me to get him to change?”

Steve shook his head “No, he was so pleased with himself…plus, I don’t fancy that particular tantrum now do you?”

“Not really no.”

Steve shrugged “Then I guess I’m stuck with it. Come on, let’s get gone. Sooner we get there the sooner I can carry out my threat to kill your asshole brother.”

Steve grabbed the food hamper and headed out to the car with it, settling it onto the trunk of the car as Katie got into the passenger side. Once Steve finished his usual checks to ensure the door was locked, he climbed into the driver’s seat ant they set off.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah buddy?” Steve asked, glancing in the mirror automatically and once more was confronted by that fucking clown. He swallowed and turned his eyes to the front.

“No scared, daddy. I not real clown.”

Katie chuckled as Steve pulled out of the drive onto the road. “I know pal, but it’s Halloween. Everyone gets scared at some point.”

Jamie nodded, accepting his answer and turned to look out of the window. As they approached a junction, Steve checked the mirror again and then sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re gonna hafta drive.” He looked at Katie.

“What?”

“I can’t do it.” He shrugged “Every time I check the mirror, all I can see is…” “Are you being serious?” Katie looked at him.

“Absolutely.” Steve unclipped the seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

And right then Katie vowed that if Steve didn’t kill Tony, she was gonna.

[detective-giggles]

Sandwich Dismissed

Up until recently, my friend had the only fic in the Rafael Barba/Sandwich tag on AO3, so I did a thing. Thanks to Sarahcakes613 for the beta, and thanks to @teamsladsandgents for coming up with one of the scenarios!

Warnings: None, just a few swears.

Word count: 2500

Pairing: Rafael Barba/Sandwich. Disclaimer: it is Pre-Barisi, so while there’s no explicit Barisi content, it’s strongly hinted at.

 Monday:

Rafael took a quick peek as his phone lit up with a text.

Carmen: Your lunch is on your desk. Thanks for letting me sneak out early today, See you tomorrow!

He glanced at the clock and grinned. They should be breaking for lunch soon and then he could go back to his office and have his sandwich.

Not just any sandwich, but his favorite sandwich from his favorite deli. They closed unusually early for a restaurant in the city, so he was rarely able to make it after work.  It had been months-maybe even a year since he had one last. Just the other day the DA had lunch catered for a meeting and, as luck would have it, he hadn’t been able to get his hands on one of the little sandwiches.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about it, however, and quite frankly, it was distracting.  Rafael had walked in this morning, handed Carmen a twenty and told her if she could have a sandwich waiting for him when court recessed for lunch, she could have the rest of the day off.

As soon as the judge dismissed them for lunch, he jumped up and grabbed his attaché case and turned around... right into the defense.

“Mr. Barba!”

“Counselor Henderson. You here to take a deal?”

The attorney shook his head. “Not exactly.”

“Then I’ll see you in an hour. Excuse me.”

“You’re going to want to hear what we have to say.”

“I don’t think so.” Rafael motioned with his hand. “If we’re talking, we’re walking. Let’s go.”

Counselor Henderson laughed but followed Rafael out of the courtroom. “They won’t run out of coffee downstairs, Mr. Barba, and I have an innocent client. I think you can spend a few minutes hearing what we have to say.”

“I haven’t seen anything that points to your client’s innocence and I’m not interested in any uncorroborated-” Henderson thrust a manila envelope towards Rafael and he grabbed it with a sigh. He could feel photographs inside, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Come on, Mr. Barba, let’s chat. Maybe you can still salvage some of your case against the other two defendants.”

Rafael rolled his eyes and tried to ignore his growling stomach as he allowed himself to be led into a conference room.

Tuesday:

“I don’t know, Liv… I just…” Rafael shrugged. “I’ll think about it,” he promised.

“Don’t think too long. But it’s kind of obvious when you finally notice it. You can’t un-notice it.” Olivia gave him a look and then pulled her phone out of her pocket, firing off a text.  

“Lovely,” he muttered. The elevator doors opened, and he filed out, followed closely by Olivia.

“I’ll be over in a second,” Olivia said, nodding towards the bathrooms.   Rafael nodded and paused at the vending machine just long enough to grab a bag of pretzels, the perfect side for the sandwich he hoped was waiting for him in his office.

“Mr. Barba, your lunch.” Carmen handed over a small cardboard box in the deli’s signature lavender.

“You’re the best, thank you.”

“Do I get to leave early again?” she asked.

Rafael shook his head. “Not a chance!” Her laughter followed him into his office.

He made his way to his desk, setting the pretzels and sandwich down, and peeled off his jacket, hanging it neatly. Rafael dropped into his chair and stared at the box for a moment, an 8 written in messy handwriting in the corner, and under that, XTRA PICK. His mouth watered at the thought of the sour tang from the house-made pickles and he couldn’t wait any longer, tearing into the box.

A wave of disappointment hit him when, instead of a large Ciabatta roll, he saw rye bread. “Oh no… no no no…” he whined. “Carmen!”

“Rafa? What’s wrong?” Olivia took a seat across from him and watched as he carefully picked the top piece of bread off and groaned. Carmen popped her head into the doorway.

“They gave you the wrong sandwich.”

“No! It’s a number eight! With extra pickles just like you asked for.”

“I know that’s what the box says, but that’s not what’s in the box!”

Carmen and Olivia exchanged glances, “I can go get you another?” Carmen offered, although they all knew she had more important things to do then run around and fetch his lunch.

Rafael sighed with defeat, “No, thanks. We don’t have time; we have to get over to the precinct by one.”

“So you’re not going to eat the sandwich?” Olivia clarified, leaning in to see what was inside the box.

“Nope.”

“Oooh. What kind did they give you?” Carmen asked, walking over.

“A Reuben.”

“Wanna split it?” Olivia offered. Rafael sat back and pouted as he watched the ladies divide the sandwich and they each took a bite.

“Oh Rafa, this is really good,” Olivia murmured, “you sure you don’t want some?”

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. That sauerkraut is making my office smell.” He griped, wrinkling his nose.

Carmen headed towards the door, “I’ll get you another one tomorrow,” she assured him. “And I’ll check it before I leave the deli!”

 Wednesday:

Rafael made his way across the room and poured a fresh cup of coffee. He paused to take a couple of large gulps, and then topped the cup off again.  He set it on the conference table next to the purple box. Carmen assured him it was correct today, but he popped the box open and sniffed; his mouth watered as he inhaled the slightly spicy scent from the meat’s marinade. Rafael pulled the sandwich out and peeled back the paper, flattening it to make a makeshift plate on the table.  He carefully pulled a thin slice of meat off the sandwich and popped it in his mouth, moaning softly.

“You okay over there?” Carmen asked, poking her head in.

Rafael scowled at being caught. “Yes, thank you,” he reached into his wallet and pulled out a couple wrinkled bills. “You heading out for lunch?”

“Yes. I’ll be back before your meeting.” Carmen turned to leave, “Oh, and this vending machine hasn’t been filled yet, you’ll have to go to the eighth floor for pretzels,” she called over her shoulder.

“Damn it.” Rafael grabbed another sliver of meat and headed for the elevators.

*** Five minutes later, Rafael was back on his own floor, his little bag of pretzels in hand. The door to his office was opened, which was odd, he could have sworn he had pulled it shut on the way out.  As he got closer, he could see movement inside, and he rolled his eyes.

”You’re early,” he grumbled. He entered his office and tossed the pretzels on the table.  

John Buchanan looked up, his eyes wide with mock surprise. “Am I? Ooooh, and I interrupted your lunch too!  It’s okay. Take your time. I’ll wait.”   He smirked, not taking his eyes off Rafael.

“Outside?” Rafael gestured to the row of chairs in the hall. Buchanan was 45 minutes early, obviously a tactic to annoy the ADA. Rafael sat slowly, he didn’t particularly want to eat with an audience, but he also knew they’d be arguing for a while.

“Oh, no. Don’t be silly. Enjoy your lunch, it’s fine.” Buchanan looked around and feigned excitement when he spotted the newspaper with a picture of his client on the front page. “I can occupy myself with this.” He grabbed the paper, shaking it with a flourish. His hand hit the coffee cup and, before Rafael could react, his sandwich, the table, and his pants were covered in the brown liquid.

“Fuck!” Rafael hissed and jumped up. Luckily for him, it wasn’t as hot as it could have been - the drink had cooled considerably in the time since it was poured.

To his credit, Buchanan actually looked mildly embarrassed. “That… was not intentional,” he stated, although he made no effort to actually apologize or attempt to help clean up.

“I’m going to need you to wait outside while I…deal with this.”

“Right. Yeah, I can do that.” He stood and crossed the room slowly, shutting the door behind him.

Rafael grabbed the garbage can and sighed as he shoveled the mess into the trash, mourning his third sandwich of the week.

 Thursday:

Rafael tossed his pen on his desk and rubbed his temples. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His head was pounding, and he was no closer to finishing his opening statement than he had been three hours ago.  He opened his eyes and realized Sonny was staring at him.

“What?” Rafael snapped. He sighed, muttering an apology.  

“Let’s take a break.  I can pick up lunch for us? And some coffee, of course. Or just the coffee, if you’d prefer.” Sonny teased, flashing a dimpled smile.

“No, thanks, Carisi. Carmen should be bringing my sandwich in a bit. I didn’t realize you were staying so long. I can text her and have her bring you something too?” Sonny was helping him (on a day off, nonetheless) so the least he could do was be polite. And he definitely didn’t want to look up all this case law on his own tonight. If the extra help only cost him a sandwich, it would be a cheap trade.

They heard a knock on the door and looked up, Rafael motioning for Carmen to come in.  “Mr. Barba, your sandwich. Good afternoon, Detective.”

“Thank you, Carmen.” She set the box on the corner of his desk and quickly left the office, shutting the door behind her.

“Look, Barba, so I was thinking…” Sonny started. He crossed the room and was at Rafael’s side in a couple of quick strides.

“Oooh, that’s dangerous.”

“Haha,” Sonny rolled his eyes and perched on the corner of Rafael’s desk, “Seriously. I’ve been thinking and I wanted to ask-” Sonny shifted, suddenly anxious, accidentally nudging the items behind him. As if in slow motion, Rafael watched in horror as the lavender box tumbled to the floor.

“You.”

“I, uh… Oops?” Sonny slid off the desk and stood quickly, walking around to inspect the damage.

“Please tell me my sandwich isn’t all over the floor?”

“I could. Tell you that, I mean. But then I’d be lying and…” Sonny swallowed hard and knelt down to pick up the scattered pieces of Rafael’s lunch. “I’m sorry, Barba. On the plus side, no aioli got on your carpet. That would leave a nasty grease stain...” he paused, “Barba, are you okay?”

Rafael laughed, harder than Sonny expected for someone whose lunch was currently inedible, “That…is just my luck. Do you know how much money I’ve spent this week on lunches I haven’t gotten to eat?”

“Um, no? How many sandwiches are we talking?”

“Four.”

“Oh, shit. Barba. I’m really sorry. I’ll go get you another one right now. It’ll take twenty minutes, tops.” Sonny grabbed his coat.

“No, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind. You can get a little hangry and I don’t want that on my conscience when you walk into the precinct later.”

“Carisi, I’m not actually angry, so stop talking while you’re ahead.”

“Yeah, okay. But I really am sorry,” Sonny sat down at the table and grabbed another book, “I promise, your next sandwich is on me.”

 Friday:

Rafael sighed, relieved, as he made his way into the deli with fifteen minutes to spare. “Hi, Can I get a number eight, please. Extra pickles and cut in half. To go.”

The teenager behind the counter looked bored as she tapped at the screen. “$12.95.”

Rafael slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his suit and froze briefly when he realized the pocket was empty. He shoved his hands into the front pockets, also coming up empty. “I, uh... sorry, I don’t...” he tapped the front and back pocket of his pants-no wallet.

He felt his inside pocket again and groaned, hoping he hadn’t dropped it somewhere. He could already feel his temple throbbing at the thought of having to go home and cancel all his credit cards and replace his license.

“$12.95.” The girl repeated with an eye roll.

“I heard you the first time. Clearly, I’m having an issue.”

“Apple-pay?” She suggested.

“What?” She tapped the machine in front of Rafael and he shook his head. “No, I don’t Apple-pay.”  He closed his eyes. The last time he saw it was earlier today when he had given it to Carmen to purchase some flowers for his abuelita. She always locked it in his top drawer when she was done and in his haste to get out of the building he must have forgotten to grab it.

Rafael dropped his head in defeat. He couldn’t make it to his office and back before they closed for the evening, and even if he could, his key card to get into the building after hours was in his wallet.

“So, do you still want the sandwich or what?”

“Yeah, he’ll take the sandwich.”

Rafael didn’t need to look up to know it was Sonny standing next to him, handing some cash across the counter, telling the girl to keep the change.

“Carisi, you didn’t have to do that.”

Sonny shrugged, “but it was my fault your last sandwich didn’t work out. Luckily, I decided it looked really good while I was picking it up off the floor.  My debt to you is now repaid.”

“My hero.” Rafael grinned.  The pair stood in silence for a minute.  “I guess it would be pretty rude if I didn’t ask you to join me, wouldn’t it?”

“Nah. Rain check?”

Against his better judgement Rafael asked, “you... you don’t want to have dinner with me? Isn’t that what you were going to ask yesterday? In my office?”

Sonny looked surprised. “I would love to,” he admitted. “But I know that you want nothing more than to go home with your sandwich and your obscenely expensive bottle of scotch and forget about this week. If we ever have dinner...together... I want it to be because you want to and not because you feel obligated to. Go home, enjoy your sandwich, and I’ll see you Monday?”

“Thanks, Sonny.” Rafael watched as the detective flashed a quick smile and exited the deli. Maybe, someday soon, he’d be spending some extra time with a blue-eyed detective. But for tonight, it would be just him and his sandwich, and he was just fine with that.

Taglist: @itsjustmyfantasyroom

[deafmatteo]

Is deaf Matteo a picky eater? I suddenly thought about him and David having a faux scuffle about not eating something David made for him. "I love you, but I refuse to put myself in mortal danger by eating THAT"

I hope you feel better 💚

thank you, i’m feeling a lot better! i firmly believe matteo is a gremlin for food but he’s texture picky. he would never put himself in mortal danger for david but for laura??? he lives for his sister-in-law’s approval. also c/w for gagging

“No.”

“Matteo.”

“You can’t make me eat that.” Matteo stared down at the plate in front of him with disgust, nose wrinkled and arms folded over his chest. David sighed and pinched the base of his nose, knowing that it was a lost cause. They didn’t often fight—neither of them would even call this a fight—but both of their stubbornness often led them into petty disagreements.

“Please, just one bite?” David looked exhausted. There was a part of Matteo that wanted to back down and console him but he didn’t. Instead, he kept his arms folded over his chest and glowered at the meal.

“I’m not saying that you have to eat it all, Matteo. Just try a bite, please? Laura made it.” Ah. There it was. David was never the type to force Matteo to eat anything so this was out of the ordinary. Matteo thought about how David probably scrunched his nose when Laura brought over the extra meals, rambling how she made sure to make more for them. He probably hugged her and thanked her and then grumbled to himself about having Matteo eat it.

He wouldn’t call himself picky, per se. He would eat almost anything that would fit into his mouth, given it was the right texture. And this? This did not look the right texture.

“It’s got mushrooms, doesn’t it? Laura likes mushrooms.” David sighed. Although Matteo didn’t hear the sigh, he could read David like an open book and he knew that there were mushrooms in the dish. He picked up the fork and poked around at the edges of the bowl, wrinkling his nose.

Not often was it that he tried new foods but he hated the idea of disappointing Laura. With his free hand, he pulled out his cochlear implant and hearing aid, dropped them on the table and squeezed his eyes shut. Then he shovelled a spoonful into his mouth.

He gagged. He didn’t mean to; the food tasted delicious but the slimey, unfamiliar tang of mushrooms against his tongue ruined the whole dish. When he opened his eyes, David was staring at him with a mixture of amusement and fondness.

“Your sister is trying to kill me,” Matteo grumbled, pushing the bowl away and getting up to grab a glass of water. His tongue hung out of his mouth and he panted, refusing to put it back into his mouth until it was cleared. The mushroom taste had long gone but he could feel it.

David snaked his arms around Matteo’s waist and gave his shoulder a quick kiss as a thank you. Matteo merely huffed in reply.

“Proud of you,” David mumbled against Matteo’s shirt. He would reiterate it later that night, when Matteo could hear him, but for now, he kept his arms wrapped around Matteo’s waist and lips pressed against the top of Matteo’s spine.

[khazadspoon]

if you felt so inclined, perhaps a little genderfuckery story with tang fan in drag and sui zhou enjoying it?

i love it. ok here goes, with the general acceptance that Tang Fan is pretty fluid with his gender presentation though still goes by he/him pronouns, and even if Sui Zhou gets a lil confused at times he is still supportive and just love him hubby

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

It wasn’t unusual for Sui Zhou to come home and find Tang Fan in some new outfit, not after all the madness of dealing with Li Zilong. They both had more time, energy, and money to indulge in their passions (when they weren’t indulging in their passion for one another) and Tang Fan had decided dresses and makeup were his. 

“Guangchuan!” Tang Fan cried with a bright smile, one hand delicately holding a round fan. He was wearing an almost golden yellow dress with sheer white sleeves covered by a pale blue bijia, the fabrics shimmering in the lamplight as he turned to stand. The dark tresses of his hair were gathered up in a bun at the base of his skull and pinned with an ornament he had bought several weeks before. It wasn’t ornate, not made of gold or jade, but with the dress and the subtle makeup it made him look like a wealthy and happy wife. 

“You’re back early - were there no dastardly criminals to chase through the streets?” Tang Fan asked, tiptoeing across the room to drape his arms over Sui Zhou’s shoulders. 

Sui Zhou shook his head and pressed a kiss to his lover’s cheek. “No criminals tonight, or at least none out in public.”

It might have seemed strange to many others, but Sui Zhou had truly become to love seeing Tang Fan in his various costumes. Seeing the joy that filled his face when dressing, the colour that rose on his cheeks when Sui Zhou complimented him, and the general relaxing of his demeanour was something Sui Zhou enjoyed immensely. 

Tang Fan hummed in delight as he settled against Sui Zhou’s chest. He sighed deeply and clicked his tongue, presenting his neck for more kisses; Sui Zhou gave them willingly. 

“Then I suppose you’ll have more time to cook this evening..?” He asked softly, the tone of his voice higher and breathier as he arched into Sui Zhou’s touch. 

He couldn’t help but shake his head at the words. One thing that had never changed in his love was his appetite. Mind already cataloguing the ingredients in the kitchen, Sui Zhou huffed and nipped at the delicate, jade-pale skin beneath his lips. “If you insist.”

Tang Fan pulled back and grinned, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Oh, but I do insist. I’ve been alone all day, no one but myself to entertain me! And we both know you are most talkative when you are cooking. I need the stimulation.”

He laughed, a short huff of breath as he brushed a stray lock of hair from Tang Fan’s pink cheek. His thumb pressed against the red of Tang Fan’s lips, enjoying the stuttered breath that fell from them as he did so. “Then by all means, let me stimulate you.

Tang Fan gasped and slapped at his chest with one bunched up sleeve. “Guangchuan! You are so forward! Go and make dinner, before I take a bite out of you instead.”

Sui Zhou laughed again, louder this time, and ducked his head to hide his blush. He reached out and smoothed the sides of Tang Fan’s bijia before holding his hips and leaning forward. 

They kissed, slowly and gently, warmth blossoming between them like a pot of water placed over a low flame. Sui Zhou loved those kisses. He loved them more with the scent of sweet perfume lingering around him, the faint smudge of red left behind when he pulled away. 

“As you wish,” he whispered against those lips. 

Tang Fan sighed happily and suddenly darted away. He grabbed at something from the table and took Sui Zhou’s hand, leading him to the kitchen with an excited skip in his step. The sound of his bare feet against the floor brought a smile to Sui Zhou’s lips. 

“Lao Pei brought another Wolf Peach today, he said it’s from the West and definitely not poisonous! Could we try simmering it in something, maybe a pork bone broth and some spices...”

Sui Zhou tuned out some of the chatter as he began to roll his sleeves, but the sound of Tang Fan’s voice soothed him nonetheless. He enjoyed cooking, but he enjoyed it more with the bluster of his lover’s voice and the steady warmth of his presence. 

Home was only home when they were both there, after all.

[starrosefics-archive]

Treasure Bin- Chapter 1

Summary: MK hears about his great-aunt’s passing, Macaque gets back in contact with some old friends, and MK gets a call from his sister.

Notes: @watermelonjuicee wrote a fic based on one of my posts and I’ve been riding that happy high since yesterday. Go check it out.

Prologue

-_-

MK woke up to come down to a quiet restaurant.

That wasn’t unusual at the early hour and Tang only on his second bowl, he had been finding out. He had been falling asleep faster at night, which had been allowing him to wake up earlier. It had been agreed that this was due to his increased physical activity as the Monkie Kid. (Pigsy, much to his delight, had been giving him bigger portions of food to help.)

But this was a different silence. He opened his mouth to ask when his eyes landed on the newspaper. Tang grabbed it, but it was too late.

WEALTHY SPINSTER PASSED

He froze, heart not sure whether it wanted to sink or start running like a rabbit. He knew the woman that the article was talking about. 

For a moment, MK was back to feeling a wrinkled hand run through his hair, an aged voice cooing You’re our most precious treasure, starshine-

“-MK.”

It was Pigsy’s voice, calm and certain, that drew him back. MK tried a shaky smile. (The chef noticed the shakiness and added it to the mental list of ‘reasons to look up therapists’.) “Sorry.” He nodded to the article. “Great- She- dead?” Tang, thankfully, understood.

“Three days ago.” He thought before offering the article, relief passing over his face when the younger man shook his head. “They kept it secret until she could be buried.” Pigsy snatched it away, crumbling it up and throwing it at the recycling.

“C’mon kid, it doesn’t matter. Kitchen.”

“Yes sir.” MK said, thoughts already moving away from his former family and to helping Pigsy prepare.

Well, his thoughts attempted to move away.

He was stuck puzzling over Great Aunt Tetra all day. He greeted Mei when she poked her head in, did deliveries, and took orders, but it was all on autopilot. Sure, he didn’t like the woman- no. Dislike wasn’t the word to describe it. But he had known her.

Eventually, he had some free time to slip away to Flower Fruit Mountain. As he climbed the peak, he considered every angle until his brain landed on one question.

How was Bao taking it?

-_-

Princess Iron Fan was careful.

Being careful was often the only thing saving you from the forces of Heaven or whatever came. That was the lesson she had taught Red Son. So, as the world changed, both of them were careful with money. Both of them were careful with resources. And Iron Fan, most of all, was careful with places.

The small palace that the Demon Bull family now inhabited was the same palace DBK had lived in centuries ago, back when they were preparing for his strike against the Monkey King. The same strike that ultimately landed him under a mountain. His wife and son had lived there for a few years before moving to the city, but Iron Fan had been careful to keep a few servants in the hidden complex to keep it updated.

After the mess that the last lair had been left in, everyone was glad for that one.

Especially Red Son.

He sat in his room, staring at a bracelet. It was a cuff bracelet, made out of gold with one small ruby. The jewel itself matched the headband of a certain boy. He twirled the piece absently, considering the implications that hadn’t filled his head when he had started crafting the gift.

There was a knock on the door. Red let out a yelp, trying to both stuff the bracelet into his pocket and scramble off the bed. "Come in!" He managed out eventually, smoothing his shirt down.

The door opened, revealing a servant. He straightened, trying to look like the cool and confident prince he was. “Your parents request your presence.” they said with a bowed head. Red Son nodded, not trusting his voice.

He stalked out of his room, keeping his head high. It was probably to talk over plans, he supposed. There had been some silent agreement to not talk about the White Bone Spirit at the moment. But his thoughts kept wandering.

To his enraged father.

To the cry of traitor.

To MK-

A chuckle broke him out of his thoughts. Red Son looked around, confused and a little wary due to the said spirit. There was a tap on his shoulder and he let out a shout. On instinct, his fist slammed out before slamming into a hand. There was another chuckle.

“Jumpy, kid?”

He drew back. “Macaque.” he said, giving a respectful bow of his head. The dark-furred immortal chuckled, eyes glowing. “Excuse me. I...”

“We weren’t expecting you here, Macaque.” His mother’s voice broke the tension as she strode down the hallway, his father following. Her face was frozen into one of politeness and he couldn’t blame her. Given his and Monkey King’s past...relationship, it was hard to determine if he was now friend or foe. “What brings you.”

Unannounced was the word Iron Fan didn’t use.

“Iron Fan!” Macaque said, striding forward to meet her. He grabbed her hand to press a chaste kiss to it. “Can’t a guy come visit some old friends?” She drew her hand away. “Anyway, I’ve heard about your difficulties.”

“There are no difficulties at the moment.” his mother said stiffly.

Macaque chuckled. “Denial. But I’ve brought all of us a chance.” He pulled out a jar, full of what Red Son could only describe as slime. “One of the few sorceresses in the world left us three days ago.” Everyone stared at the information as Macaque swirled the jar. “But she did manage to leave us this.” He snapped his fingers. “And we still have a guide.”

Out of the shadows, probably carried by one of his shadow clones, a girl tied up was thrown. She looked to be a few years older then Red, dressed in a teal sweater and white leggings, and covered in soot. She also looked completely pissed. Macaque stepped forward, ignoring how she was struggling against her bonds, and pulled out the gag.

She coughed, clearly getting used to the freedom of speech, before ignoring everyone except Macaque. “I told you already, I have no idea exactly what that does! It could make the Monkey King loopy or it could kill him! It could blow us up! I! Have! No idea!”

His mother grabbing her shoulder stopped the struggles. “Ah ah ah! Except you do!” Macaque pulled out an aging journal. He paused. “Excuse me, I’m being rude. Everyone, meet the Monkie Kid’s older sister, Bao.”

MK had an older sister?

“And you better not touch a hair on his head!” Bao yelled, struggling against her bonds again. “Look, I might know what that stuff is supposed to do, but I have no idea if it does and you f-”

Macaque pulled out his staff.

She went silent.

“This stuff,” He explained to his audience, holding up the glowing jar. “Is a special spell that her great aunt developed. For lack of a better word, it’s a virus that loosens their controls, like under the influence of alcohol. Which means that they’re easy to catch and control.”

Red stepped forward, considering the jar. “And what do you want?” he voiced.

Macaque grinned harder. “Simple. To work with you to create a trap for both Wukong and MK. She,” Bao grunted as he gave her a kick. “Is the current owner of a huge warehouse full of magical artifacts. Artifacts that will be useful to you and...” He leaned forward, eyes lighting up. “Especially to the brat. I get Wukong to undo whatever that monk did to him. You get MK-”

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

“SHUT UP!”

“Shutting up.”

“As I was saying, you get MK for whatever you want.” Macaque said, smoothing back his hair from where it had fluffed up. Red Son's thoughts whirled, all circling around the bracelet in his pocket. He didn't move, however. Instead, he watched his parents before Iron Fan finally nodded. “Great! As for you!”

Bao winced as he reached...to untie her. She blinked when the bonds came loose and he pulled out a phone. “Call your brother. I told you, you’ll come with us but at the end of it, you’re going free.”

She glared but typed in the number.

-_-

“My great aunt’s dead.”

Wukong let out a yelp. MK couldn’t blame him- it had come out of nowhere. They were in the middle of after-spar meditation, but he couldn’t keep it down. “I...” the immortal said after a moment. “I’m sorry- wait, no. Your great aunt, from what I saw, was a bitch.”

“I know!” MK said it in a burst. “God, I hated her when I left. But she’s still my blood and I...I don’t know? Feel sad?” He stood, starting to pace. “She thought I couldn’t do a thing for myself, just because I couldn’t do magic like her or Bao or my parents! But she...I don’t know.” He sat back down, staring at his hands. “She still loved me. Kinda.”

His mentor stared before letting out a sigh. “Kid...you shouldn’t think about this. You left because she was your family and she was unhealthy. You shouldn’t let the family part weigh you down-”

There was a ringing. MK pulled out his phone. The number niggled at his memory, but he didn’t remember where. With a shrug at Wukong, he answered. “Hello?”

“Star- MK?”

“BAO?!” On instinct and encouraged by Wukong’s frantic waves, MK moved to end the call.

“Wait, wait, wait- I left!”

He paused. “What?”

“I left Mom and Dad. And...that’s why I’m calling you. Auntie left the shop to me.”

He blinked before moving forward. “That’s great. But I don’t want you in my life, so...”

“I want to make amends.”

He paused again. “What?”

“I...I’m calling. Because I want to make amends.” The words were awkward and the silence was long. Long enough that MK could barely make out a few taps, repeating over and over again. “The White Bone Spirit’s still loose, right? There’s some artifacts here that could help you.”

More tapping. A pattern, repeating over and over again.

“Okay.” MK hadn’t realized he had said it before Bao was talking again.

“Great! That- that’s great! Most of it is in this other warehouse, down north, but Auntie had a portal. I’ll leave instructions and I’ll meet you there, cool?”

He nodded before realizing she couldn’t see. “Yeah. Cool. Bye.”

“...Bye. Dress up warm!” Then the call was over and MK was left staring at his phone. Wukong let out a whistle, startling his student.

“Well, that was a trainwreck-”

“Bao’s in trouble.”

[starsfic]

Treasure Bin- Chapter 1

Summary: MK hears about his great-aunt’s passing, Macaque gets back in contact with some old friends, and MK gets a call from his sister.

Notes: Reposted from my old blog. @purble-turble

-_-

MK woke up to come down to a quiet restaurant.

That wasn’t unusual at the early hour and Tang only on his second bowl, he had been finding out. He had been falling asleep faster at night, which had been allowing him to wake up earlier. It had been agreed that this was due to his increased physical activity as the Monkie Kid. (Pigsy, much to his delight, had been giving him bigger portions of food to help.)

But this was a different silence. He opened his mouth to ask when his eyes landed on the newspaper. Tang grabbed it, but it was too late.

WEALTHY SPINSTER PASSED

He froze, heart not sure whether it wanted to sink or start running like a rabbit. He knew the woman that the article was talking about.

For a moment, MK was back to feeling a wrinkled hand run through his hair, an aged voice cooing You’re our most precious treasure, starshine-

“-MK.”

It was Pigsy’s voice, calm and certain, that drew him back. MK tried a shaky smile. (The chef noticed the shakiness and added it to the mental list of ‘reasons to look up therapists’.) “Sorry.” He nodded to the article. “Great- She- dead?” Tang, thankfully, understood.

“Three days ago.” He thought before offering the article, relief passing over his face when the younger man shook his head. “They kept it secret until she could be buried.” Pigsy snatched it away, crumbling it up and throwing it at the recycling.

“C’mon kid, it doesn’t matter. Kitchen.”

“Yes sir.” MK said, thoughts already moving away from his former family and to helping Pigsy prepare.

Well, his thoughts attempted to move away.

He was stuck puzzling over Great Aunt Tetra all day. He greeted Mei when she poked her head in, did deliveries, and took orders, but it was all on autopilot. Sure, he didn’t like the woman- no. Dislike wasn’t the word to describe it. But he had known her.

Eventually, he had some free time to slip away to Flower Fruit Mountain. As he climbed the peak, he considered every angle until his brain landed on one question.

How was Bao taking it?

-_-

Princess Iron Fan was careful.

Being careful was often the only thing saving you from the forces of Heaven or whatever came. That was the lesson she had taught Red Son. So, as the world changed, both of them were careful with money. Both of them were careful with resources. And Iron Fan, most of all, was careful with places.

The small palace that the Demon Bull family now inhabited was the same palace DBK had lived in centuries ago, back when they were preparing for his strike against the Monkey King. The same strike that ultimately landed him under a mountain. His wife and son had lived there for a few years before moving to the city, but Iron Fan had been careful to keep a few servants in the hidden complex to keep it updated.

After the mess that the last lair had been left in, everyone was glad for that one.

Especially Red Son.

He sat in his room, staring at a bracelet. It was a cuff bracelet, made out of gold with one small ruby. The jewel itself matched the headband of a certain boy. He twirled the piece absently, considering the implications that hadn’t filled his head when he had started crafting the gift.

There was a knock on the door. Red let out a yelp, trying to both stuff the bracelet into his pocket and scramble off the bed. “Come in!” He managed out eventually, smoothing his shirt down.

The door opened, revealing a servant. He straightened, trying to look like the cool and confident prince he was. “Your parents request your presence.” they said with a bowed head. Red Son nodded, not trusting his voice.

He stalked out of his room, keeping his head high. It was probably to talk over plans, he supposed. There had been some silent agreement to not talk about the White Bone Spirit at the moment. But his thoughts kept wandering.

To his enraged father.

To the cry of traitor.

To MK-

A chuckle broke him out of his thoughts. Red Son looked around, confused and a little wary due to the said spirit. There was a tap on his shoulder and he let out a shout. On instinct, his fist slammed out before slamming into a hand. There was another chuckle.

“Jumpy, kid?”

He drew back. “Macaque.” he said, giving a respectful bow of his head. The dark-furred immortal chuckled, eyes glowing. “Excuse me. I…”

“We weren’t expecting you here, Macaque.” His mother’s voice broke the tension as she strode down the hallway, his father following. Her face was frozen into one of politeness and he couldn’t blame her. Given his and Monkey King’s past…relationship, it was hard to determine if he was now friend or foe. “What brings you.”

Unannounced was the word Iron Fan didn’t use.

“Iron Fan!” Macaque said, striding forward to meet her. He grabbed her hand to press a chaste kiss to it. “Can’t a guy come visit some old friends?” She drew her hand away. “Anyway, I’ve heard about your difficulties.”

“There are no difficulties at the moment.” his mother said stiffly.

Macaque chuckled. “Denial. But I’ve brought all of us a chance.” He pulled out a jar, full of what Red Son could only describe as slime. “One of the few sorceresses in the world left us three days ago.” Everyone stared at the information as Macaque swirled the jar. “But she did manage to leave us this.” He snapped his fingers. “And we still have a guide.”

Out of the shadows, probably carried by one of his shadow clones, a girl tied up was thrown. She looked to be a few years older then Red, dressed in a teal sweater and white leggings, and covered in soot. She also looked completely pissed. Macaque stepped forward, ignoring how she was struggling against her bonds, and pulled out the gag.

She coughed, clearly getting used to the freedom of speech, before ignoring everyone except Macaque. “I told you already, I have no idea exactly what that does! It could make the Monkey King loopy or it could kill him! It could blow us up! I! Have! No idea!”

His mother grabbing her shoulder stopped the struggles. “Ah ah ah! Except you do!” Macaque pulled out an aging journal. He paused. “Excuse me, I’m being rude. Everyone, meet the Monkie Kid’s older sister, Bao.”

MK had an older sister?

“And you better not touch a hair on his head!” Bao yelled, struggling against her bonds again. “Look, I might know what that stuff is supposed to do, but I have no idea if it does and you f-”

Macaque pulled out his staff.

She went silent.

“This stuff,” He explained to his audience, holding up the glowing jar. “Is a special spell that her great aunt developed. For lack of a better word, it’s a virus that loosens their controls, like under the influence of alcohol. Which means that they’re easy to catch and control.”

Red stepped forward, considering the jar. “And what do you want?” he voiced.

Macaque grinned harder. “Simple. To work with you to create a trap for both Wukong and MK. She,” Bao grunted as he gave her a kick. “Is the current owner of a huge warehouse full of magical artifacts. Artifacts that will be useful to you and…” He leaned forward, eyes lighting up. “Especially to the brat. I get Wukong to undo whatever that monk did to him. You get MK-”

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

“SHUT UP!”

“Shutting up.”

“As I was saying, you get MK for whatever you want.” Macaque said, smoothing back his hair from where it had fluffed up. Red Son’s thoughts whirled, all circling around the bracelet in his pocket. He didn’t move, however. Instead, he watched his parents before Iron Fan finally nodded. “Great! As for you!”

Bao winced as he reached…to untie her. She blinked when the bonds came loose and he pulled out a phone. “Call your brother. I told you, you’ll come with us but at the end of it, you’re going free.”

She glared but typed in the number.

-_-

“My great aunt’s dead.”

Wukong let out a yelp. MK couldn’t blame him- it had come out of nowhere. They were in the middle of after-spar meditation, but he couldn’t keep it down. “I…” the immortal said after a moment. “I’m sorry- wait, no. Your great aunt, from what I saw, was a bitch.”

“I know!” MK said it in a burst. “God, I hated her when I left. But she’s still my blood and I…I don’t know? Feel sad?” He stood, starting to pace. “She thought I couldn’t do a thing for myself, just because I couldn’t do magic like her or Bao or my parents! But she…I don’t know.” He sat back down, staring at his hands. “She still loved me. Kinda.”

His mentor stared before letting out a sigh. “Kid…you shouldn’t think about this. You left because she was your family and she was unhealthy. You shouldn’t let the family part weigh you down-”

There was a ringing. MK pulled out his phone. The number niggled at his memory, but he didn’t remember where. With a shrug at Wukong, he answered. “Hello?”

“Star- MK?”

“BAO?!” On instinct and encouraged by Wukong’s frantic waves, MK moved to end the call.

“Wait, wait, wait- I left!”

He paused. “What?”

“I left Mom and Dad. And…that’s why I’m calling you. Auntie left the shop to me.”

He blinked before moving forward. “That’s great. But I don’t want you in my life, so…”

“I want to make amends.”

He paused again. “What?”

“I…I’m calling. Because I want to make amends.” The words were awkward and the silence was long. Long enough that MK could barely make out a few taps, repeating over and over again. “The White Bone Spirit’s still loose, right? There’s some artifacts here that could help you.”

More tapping. A pattern, repeating over and over again.

“Okay.” MK hadn’t realized he had said it before Bao was talking again.

“Great! That- that’s great! Most of it is in this other warehouse, down north, but Auntie had a portal. I’ll leave instructions and I’ll meet you there, cool?”

He nodded before realizing she couldn’t see. “Yeah. Cool. Bye.”

“…Bye. Dress up warm!” Then the call was over and MK was left staring at his phone. Wukong let out a whistle, startling his student.

“Well, that was a trainwreck-”

“Bao’s in trouble.”

[mxvladdy]

A Break

Part Duo. Some fluff, some plot. I guess? I just like writing this one. 

Chapters: 1-2-3-4

Two

Hanzo left later that evening with a chaste kiss and a promise to call when he could. You watch him go, waving him off from your little balcony stopping only when he became lost in the sea of people below. The gold of his ribbon disappearing in the blur of faces and colors. Alone again you flop down onto your bed staring watery-eyed up at your ceiling fan. The quiet around you no longer the comforting kind, his soft-spoken presence a larger comfort then you thought. Already you missed the feel of him draped over you in bed, his gentle snoring in your ear.

Glancing at your alarm clock you debate whether it was worth it to get up and do something with your evening or just call it an early night. Fuck it. You were gloriously sore and sleeping sounded amazing right now. Work could wait for tomorrow. Laziness winning over you rose kicking off your leggings slipping under the covers of the freshly made bed, courtesy of Hanzo. Stretching out on his side of the mattress you reach out to your bedside table, fingers ideally pulling Hanzo's latest gift to you.

The metal of the pendant was cool to the touch. The light silver chain of the necklace shone brightly from the twilight outside. Thumbing over the tiny owl impression on the drachma you smile longingly. Slipping it over your head you tuck the coin under your shirt.  

Greece. What an adventure.

You wished he could have stayed longer this time to talk about his travels. Greece had been a place you dreamed of going when you were younger, but gave it up to get your career off the ground. That was your life now, bookkeeping and payroll. Our business needed you more than you needed to travel. Perhaps one day you could feel confident enough to leave the shop for a world tour. Or maybe even a romantic getaway with Hanzo, see if you were really compatible.

Admittedly your romance had been a whirlwind from the start. A drunken kiss with a handsome stranger that should have led to nowhere but a musty motel room followed by an awkward goodbye. But instead, you woke up with his number and a promise of an actual date. Half a year later Hanzo had a drawer of clothes and a toothbrush in the bathroom. Snuggling in deeper under the sheets you yawn clicking off your lamp drifting off with your phone clutched in your hand. You sleep peacefully wrapped in your boyfriend's warm floral scent till a light buzzing wakes you. Your phone vibrates, the light blinding you when you unlock it. Not that you care.

Hanzo (3:14am): 

Shuttle just landed. Be safe for me.

You (3:14am):

Always will :*

And you too please! I find myself rather attached…

Hanzo (3:16am): 

Ha. I will try not to freeze to death.

Hanzo (3:16am): 

Perhaps you could warm me up next time?

You snort wrinkling your nose at his flirting.

You (3:16am):

Yes sir! But it’ll cost you

Hanzo(3:20am): 

A price I will willingly pay.

Hanzo(3:22am): 

I must go, I’ll call when I get the chance.  

You (3:23am): 

Goodnight! Miss you already

You wake late the next morning groggy but warm, tangled in the sheets. Alarm screaming obnoxiously close to your face. Blindly, you swipe at the phone silencing the noise and rise. Waddling groggily you head to the bathroom to get ready for the day. You arrive an hour late grinning ear to ear. Your friends and employees glancing up smirking at your poor excuse for calling in sick yesterday. You let them work heading to the back to get your workload started for the day. Setting up in the back of the store in your favorite corner you look over your new assortment of dried leaves, flowers, and fruits.

The background noise of the shop and quiet music overhead lulling you into a comfortable trance. You hum under your breath pulling your scale closer to you blatantly ignoring Tabatha. She circles you like a hawk, keen eyes looking for any opening to start grilling you. The heat of her gaze latching on to the blemishes and love bites you didn’t even bother hiding. Placing your pestle down you sigh turning to her. “Ok. Ok. Lay it on me girl.”

Tabatha moved in fast plopping down next to you grabbing your pile of dried lemon rinds. “In all the time I have known you I’ve never seen this.” She starts shaving the rinds down smaller. “You skipped work, unannounced. During peak season!” She rounds on you dumping the shavings into their allotted jar. “I’m so proud!” You laugh tension you hadn’t noticed you were carrying in your shoulders dissipating. “I’m serious!” She continues. “All this time and I’ve never seen you finally blow off some steam till he showed up.” Tabatha smiles and leans closer flicking a soft curl ticking your ear. “You know you have to bring him around for drinks and leftovers sweets. Shit, the rest of the team wants to meet him too! Your pictures don’t do him justice.” You nod promising to ask next time he came to visit.

The rest of the day moved on from there at breakneck speed, the front portion of the shop bursting with patrons. The back with employees running about, fresh herbs, pastries, and coffee carafes in hand. The din of your business running smoothly a comfort to your frazzled mind. You finish your newest blend with a flourish, sprinkling dried ginger into the jar closing it with a satisfying ‘snap’.  

“Yo Boss! Can you cover the front while I take my break?” Switching places you wish your employee a good break. Perching at the register you make small talk with a few regulars as the evening lull hits. Greeting a cluster of teenagers as they entered you pause mid conversation taking in the new customers coming in behind them.

Oh. Well, this was rare. Omnics came in from time to time sure that wasn’t unusual. You make it a point to welcome everyone equally, as did your employees. But omnics always came in with human companions or solo to pick up an order or gift. And they most certainly never glowed. You eye the two curiously. The green one wandering aimlessly picking up different jars of teas and homemade jams before being over a display case of brightly colored macaroons. The other taller one was dressed in baggy pants merely looked at the counter before making eye contact.

“Ahh~ greetings.” He spoke. His voice, while naturally monotone it held an underlying tone of levity. “I wish to inquire about your tea selections. I have heard you have a unique variety.”

“Oh course!” You blush embarrassed that you were caught staring. “We have a small selection of in house blends, but the bulk of our products are sourced from fair trade shops from India, China, Japan, and Africa.” You recite by heart pulling out your display tray. The omnic looked down at the cards reading each selection as you described them nodding along patiently.

“What a peculiar name?” He picked up your latest custom blend. Southern Dragon. “How do you come up with the names?”

“I let my staff pick and vote on names. But this one-” You smile softly popping the tin open. “I named after someone.” The tea itself didn’t look like anything fancy sure. The blend of reddish-brown sticks looked like something someone could scoop up outside, Tabatha had joked about it often. “ Hojicha, roasted in house with dried ginger and imported nashi pear. This is the first season we are caring it as I like to buy fruits only when in season. It isn’t one of our most popular yet, but many customers have appreciated the mild caramel flavor and slight sweetness of the peaches and gentle tang of the ginger.”

“I see, that sounds very pleasant. I would like a bag of that and perhaps the sharp lemon for my pupil.” You nod scooping out the desired amounts into two small bags weighing them swiftly.

“And anything for you?” You smile less genuinely at the smaller omnic as they all but swaggered over. You had felt his gaze the whole time you had been chatting.

“Hmm.” They leaned on your counter visor not leaving you, long metal fingers clicking on the marble counter top. “I’d take a small shortcake and a three-pack of macaroons, the matcha ones; if they come with your number.”

You freeze choking on your smile, even the other omnic seemed surprised.

“Genji-”  

“We have our business number on the bottom of our boxes and bags, and a popular online storefront.” You ring him up quickly handing him his order.

“Mmm. I was hoping for something more...personal.” They continued voice dropping low into a slightly clipped purr.

“No.” You cut them off quickly, smile gone. “I have a boyfriend.”

They gasp in mock shock. If they had lips you were positive they would be stretched into a shit eating grin. “What a lucky man.” They tip heavily turning without another word to the door, phone out texting animatedly. You look blankly at their abandoned companion waving a hand uselessly at the door.

“I apologize. He sometimes forgets himself. I hope my pupil didn’t offend? I would like to return at a later date.” They bow low in compensation. “I will have him apologize properly when we meet again.”

Meet again… You jerk your head awkwardly still processing what in the world just happened.

“Woooow,” Tabatha drawls wrapping an arm around you watching the two take their leave, the taller one levitating the moment they were outside. “ Wow . Popular with all types huh? Thought I was gonna need to come in here an’ knock heads.”  

“Please,” You scoff recovering to wipe down the counter. “That has to be one for the books, right next to that time I fell in the school fountain at graduation. All white- like a dumb ass.” Tabatha howls with laughter already walking back to your shared office.

“A beautiful day in history. But damn that green one was mighty pleased to hear you were taken.”

“Ha-ya.” You frown rubbing your arm. Now that you think about it it was kinda weird. Perhaps they were a friend of Hanzo’s. He never spoke of omnics, cowboys and old vets, but you would think highlighter green would stick out.  

Tabatha came back talking to the last of your closing staff noticing you were still looking out the window. “Hey- you ok?”

“Yea-yea. Just thinking about it now.” Your friend frowns discarding her armload to lead you back into your office dropping you in your chair.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. But how ‘bout you get started on the paperwork, and I’ll cover the front in case they come back.” You agree already pulling a stack of orders to you booting up your computer. You get a few hours of work done in peace as your employees filter out for the night, bidding you and Tabatha a good night. With a huff she collapses to the couch watching you work for a moment.

“You forgot didn’t you.” Hmm? Tabatha meets your blank stare dark brows raised into her hairline prompting you. Blinking you try slyly to look at your calendar. Was it someone's birthday? Anniversary? “ Gurl ." She jokes. "Dick that good you forgot whine and cheese night?” Oh. Oops. 

Whine and cheese night had been a tradition since grad school, then when you went into business together. Every last Sunday of the month you two had a few too many drinks and bitched about anything that came to mind that month. Tabatha chortled grabbing your keys and turning off your monitor. “Good thing I remember. I got some new vintages and some fancy cheeses I stole from my girl’s fridge.” She leads you out of the shop locking up the building pushing you out into the brisk night air. You walk the short distance to your flat listening to her talk rapidly about her upcoming trip with her girlfriend to France. “Handsome take you anywhere yet?” She asks finally taking a breath at your front door.

“Does the city fair count?” You ask flipping on the lights to your kitchen. You glaze at your friend's face. Clearly it did not. “He isn’t around often enough to do something like that. Not that I mind,” You add quickly trying to get your piece in before she decides to cut in, her frown growing. “We had plans to rent a beach house for a weekend but he had an emergency at work. After that, we just do stay in dates or stuff around town.”

“What, he always on call or something?” Tabby flops hard onto your floor pillow kicking off her shoes. “Or like too afraid to tell his boss off?”

You snort passing your lounging friend an overfilled glass of zinfandel. “Bit late for the background check ain’t it?” She accepts the wine gracefully wiggling deeper into the cushions stealing your remotes. “Besides, I like just having lazy days here. He travels a lot for work so I’m sure that gets exhausting. I doubt a road trip would be relaxing for him. I like just having him here even if it is to just sleep.”

“Rrrriiiggghhtt. ‘Sleep’ .” She snorts looking wholly unconvinced as you settle into your favorite recliner sticking your tongue out teasingly. The two of you get lost in your favorite show then, talking on and off between mouthfuls of pizza and chips. “So-” Tabatha rises a few hours later popping her back. Eyes going to the liquor cabinet dramatically. “Wanna bring out the good shit and tell me all about your impromptu to vacation day?” She wiggles her brows, popping the cork out of your favorite gin bottle pouring you way too much. Downing your first glass in one you hunker down for a long night.

For the second night in a row, buzzing wakes you. The vibrations sharp and rhythmic against your thigh. Groggy from booze and gossip you dig around your chair. “‘Ello?” You mumble wiping drool from your cheek.

“Ah. My apologies-I forgot about time zones. Would you like me to call you back.” Hanzo. You perk up a little stumbling over your passed out friend to your bedroom door.

“No-no. I wouldn’t want to miss this.” You beam rubbing the sleep from your eyes clicking your door closed softly. The haze of the day prior leaving you with his smooth voice, his soft chuckle in your ear made him feel like he was there. The warm presence on your back instead of your sweat-soaked tank clinging to your frame.

“The same can be said for me- but I really should let you sleep. I merely wanted to hear your voice before my… shift started.” Faintly you could hear the sounds of laughter and clinks of plates in the background.

“Where are you?” You ask beyond curious, hoping for a satisfying answer. He paused again, the sound of merriment and chattering fading into the background. “Breakfast and a shift change. It was my turn to cook along with a friend. He had an idea for a 'traditional American breakfast'. It is very hearty, the others are excited. I expect I'll have heartburn for the next week now.”

“Aww! You’ve never made me breakfast!” Ah shit. “Not that that’s a problem!” You backpedal. “Life is hectic and we both have hard schedules.” Silence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Hanzo shushed you gently over the phone. “No, you are more than within your right. I do not do all that I would like with you, yet you set aside time for me every time you can.” You snort into dead air. It wasn’t that hard for you, Tabatha all but forced you to take weekends off from work.

“It’s ok. Don’t make it feel like a duty, love. I just… wish we could do more couple like stuff you know?”  You twine your fingers feeling childish for even complaining.

“I understand that feeling, I have been neglectful. Allow me to make it up to you?” You hum faking thinking hard on your answer. “ Darling.”   Your chuckle behind you hand practically hearing the pout on his elegant face. He continues with a huff. “After this assignment I’ll ask for personal leave. A few weeks perhaps? We can do whatever.”

“I like the sound of that.”