#like I’m fine to the point where I feel like I don’t need a therapy session or to go up on my Zoloft dose but I’m still just feeling blah

[whovianwholikesgirls]

Got in my comfy recliner to finish this reread so I can finish the second half of the titans curse tomorrow to start the battle of the labyrinth for mine and @anything-thats-rock-and-roll’s PJO readalong

Have spent the past two and a half hours listening to Taylor and disassociating instead 🙈

[vanessagillings]

I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 10

Summary: As you grow closer to Natasha and struggle with your family past, Wanda begins to doubt your relationship.

A/N: Aaah, I think this is very long. I threw in some fluff as an apology. But remember, not everything is black and white. Also, don't hate me, I just like where this is going.

------

Natasha: You missed the inferior venacava

Y/N: Come on, it’s elementary school. Not like the teacher’s gonna notice.

Natasha: Fine, but you’re getting a B- from me.

Y/N: Professor Romanoff, you’re too strict.

As the kids enter the dining room, you put your phone down.

“Where’s Mom?” you ask them, and they turn to look at each other.

“She was arguing with uncle Pietro”

“I’m sure it’s fine” you say, placing the food in front of them. “Let’s eat and practise your presentation for Biology”

“Ok” Billy agrees.

For a little while, everything seems normal until Wanda walks in, looking ready to kill someone.

“It’s absolutely useless speaking to him” she says, walking past you and into the kitchen. You follow her, leaning against the wall.

“What’s wrong?”

“He wants to go back to snowboarding. Risking his life for what? Some likes on instagram and sponsorships? You almost died trying to save him and here I am busting my ass cleaning after him. And he wants to die”

“Why don’t I talk to him? You try to calm down and eat something. The kids were worried about you”

“I’m not hungry” she shakes her head, but accepts your hug, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“Just try, for me?”

“Ok” she nods, kissing your cheek. You smile, and take your dinner out in the backyard, where Pietro is throwing a ball for Sparky.

“My answer’s still no” he says when you drag a chair and sit next to him.

“I didn’t say anything” you shrug your shoulders, offering Sparky a piece of your chicken. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not quitting sports”

“Ok, that’s fine.”

“It’s gonna be fine. What happened that day was a freak accident. Lighting doesn’t strike twice”

“I mean, I guess. Except it absolutely can happen again. Listen, if this is your life calling and everything, I get it. Just try to understand your sister. What would you feel like if the roles were reversed? If she got seriously hurt”

“What would you do if you couldn’t perform surgery again?”

“I’d go insane” you admit. “I’m not telling you to quit. I’m just telling you to understand Wanda’s point of view. Plus, you still need to start physical therapy.”

You sit in silence for a while, eating and looking at the sky.

“I’m hungry” Pietro admits, and you laugh.

“Come on, let’s get you some food”

As Wanda prepares his dinner, you take the kids upstairs. They ask you a couple of questions about the model of the heart you helped them build with clay until they’re both yawning.

“Sleep now, boys” you close the door, watching with a smile as they’re already snoring.

Wanda is still cleaning the kitchen when you join her, and she smiles at you.

“Thank you. He’s being less stubborn now. Wants to start therapy next week”

“My pleasure. I’ll finish cleaning, go to bed” you say, kissing her temple. She squeezes your arm in thanks, but turns around as she remembers.

“Could you take out the trash?”

“Huh? Yes. I’ll do it, no worries” you answer absentmindedly, looking at your phone.

You spend a lot of time on your phone lately, Wanda thinks.

After cleaning up, you sit and practise for your own test tomorrow. Natasha told you they’ll begin to implement her mother’s technique at the hospital and you want to scrub in.

For that, you need a bunch of grapes and a sowing kit. Everytime you finish a set of stitches, you send a picture to Nat and wait for her feedback.

Nat: That one’s perfect.

You smile at that, proud of your work. You’re so busy texting back that you don’t hear Wanda come in.

“Did you take out the trash?”

“Oh, crap. Let me do that right now” you put your phone down and remove your gloves.

“Who are you talking to?”

“What?”

“I’ve been waiting for an hour for you to come to bed, and it seems like you’d rather be texting. Is it her?” Wanda says, clearly upset.

“Wanda, come on. I was practising to scrub in this week. It would be a pretty big deal if they pick me to be in the surgery”

“Please, it’s so obvious that woman will let you in just because she has a thing for you” Wanda scoffs.

“Oh, so you’re saying I can’t get in because of my skills?”

“That’s not even… you know what? Don’t come to bed”

“What?” you turn to look at her, frowning.

“You can sleep on the couch” she says, leaving the kitchen without looking back at you.

Un-fucking-believable.

Fine, whatever. You’ll sleep on the fucking couch.

You clean up your mess and finally take out the trash, going to your car for a cigarrette and a lighter.

As you sit in the porch, another text comes from Natasha.

You decide it’s faster to call her.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” she jokes.

“Nah, I was kicked out of the bedroom”

“What did you do?” Natasha asks, clearly amused.

“Why do you assume it was me who did something?” you want to sound offended, but after a beat of silence, you admit the truth. Or part of it. “I forgot to take out the trash”

“That’s not so bad”

“I guess not. But whatever, I’ll manage for tonight. Got a doble shift ahead of me tomorrow”

“Sorry, if I was there I’d be more than happy to take you in” she says in a low voice and you don’t know exactly what to say to that.

“When do you get here, by the way?”

“My flight lands at seven thirty”

“Want me to pick you up? We can have breakfast and then go to the hospital” you offer, feeling better at the prospect of having plans to catch up with Natasha.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you”

“Not at all, I’m happy to play the part of private driver”

“Will you hold a sign with my name like they do in the movies?”

“I’ll try” you laugh, looking behind you. “Alright, I’ll go get some sleep. Night, Nat”

“Night, Y/N”

Pulling out a blanket and a cushion, you lay down, sighing and trying to get comfortable. A few minutes later, you can hear Wanda going out of her study, and you stay still, hoping she won’t come looking for you.

Truth is, you don’t want to talk to her right now either.

Not after she kicked you out of the room for something so insignificant.

So, you close your eyes and try to let go of the hurt.

Tomorrow will be better.

—

Next morning, you get up at break of dawn to get changed and pack your bag for the next 48 hours. Honestly? You’re happy to be at the hospital for two days.

“Want some breakfast before you leave?” Wanda offers when you walk in to get changed, and by the looks of it, she didn’t get much sleep last night.

“I’m fine” is all you say, looking for your scrubs and your phone charger.

“Y/N” she calls as you’re about to leave. You turn to look at her reluctantly, eager to just walk out of the room. “Have a nice day”

“You too” you say, without any emotion, going down the stairs and straight to your car.

The ride to the airport lets you clear your head, and you feel a lot more relaxed when you go down to wait for Natasha.

It’s not long before you spot her, walking out and looking flawless.

“My apologies in advance” is all she says as you approach her, and you look confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Natalia, wait for me! You’re always in such a hurry” a blonde woman, younger and shorter than Natasha comes right behind her, carrying three very big suitcases. “Are you our Uber?”

“Yelena!” Natasha scolds, switching to Russian. “I’m sorry, my sister has no manners”

“Hey, no worries, it’s not the first time I’ve had siblings fighting in a foreign language” you smile, introducing yourself to Yelena.

“Nice to meet you. Thank you for picking us up”

“Are you staying for the whole month?” you comment, struggling with Yelena’s bags.

“Yes, my mother arranged for me to spend some time learning at Stark’s Hospital. I want to be a Trauma surgeon and Natasha said they have the best one she’s ever met”

“Did she say that now?” you laugh, as Natasha blushes and gets inside the car.

“Why? Do you know them?” Yelena sits on the back seat, unlocking her phone to find the address of her new place.

“Yeah, they’re ok I guess” you joke, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“It’s Y/N, you dumbass” Natasha clarifies, which makes Yelena groan and curse in Russian.

“Hey! That means bitch” you recognise it.

“How do you know it?” Yelena asks.

“My girlfriend and her brother are always saying it to each other. Living together has regressed them to their teenage years” you lament, trying not to think about them.

Yelena is restless in the backseat, asking you to change the music until you give up and hand over your phone so she can play whatever she likes.

“Have any siblings?” Natasha says, massaging her temples.

“Two half siblings but I don’t really speak to them”

“Lucky”

“Natalia, that is so rude” Yelena mutters, singing along to American Pie. “I’m hungry, can we get food before going to the apartment?”

“We’re having breakfast and then going to the hospital. That’s what grown ups do, they work even if they had to fly in the middle of the night”

“Fiiiine”

As you park, Yelena jumps out, because she wants to sit on the second floor with a view to the promenade. You wait for Natasha, and walk inside with her to the restaurant.

“So, I take it I have a new student?”

“I’m so sorry. Fury was supposed to ask you first but she’s just so damn impulsive. Please don’t feel like you have to help her in any way”

“It’s fine. I’m guessing your mother’s behind it? I don’t want you to get in any trouble. And Kate could use some friendly competition”

“I really appreciate it” Natasha smiles, and you both sit while Yelena looks out the balcony, taking pictures of the sunrise.

Yelena asks you questions about your background and work experience. You think it’s just curiosity as she’s starting her residency soon, but Natasha can tell Yelena is doing a job interview in her own sneaky way. She’s always so outgoing and charming that people have a hard time believing she can be a little shit.

“Have you ever been to Boston?” the younger woman asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“No, never been”

“You’d love it, it’s so pretty, and our hospital has one of the best Trauma centers in the country. Of course, the issue is finding the right person to run it, right Natasha?”

“I guess”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had an opening” you comment for the sake of conversation.

“Well, yes, actually. Didn’t Natasha tell you? We’re actively looking for someone” Yelena says as if it’s such a big coincidence. “You wouldn’t happen to be interested in it?”

“Sorry to say, my girlfriend would not want to move to Boston. But if I know of someone I’ll send them your way. Who was your former head of department?”

“Rumlow. You know him?” Natasha says, wishing she didn’t. He was a pretentious ass.

“Yeah, he’s an asshole. We studied together and only one of us got to go to work at John Hopkins. Spoiler alert, it wasn’t him” you brag, making Natasha smile.

“Tell me more about your girlfriend” Yelena asks, which makes Natasha flinch.

“Don’t”

“I’m just being polite” she lies, and you have a feeling it is better to change the subject. So, you ask for the check, paying for the three of you and then driving to the hospital.

“I have to get ready for the next session. Behave” Natasha says, and then turns to you. “If she’s being bad, you have my authorization to kick her ass”

“Duly noted” you wink at Nat, walking towards the ER, where Kate is already waiting with some charts for your rounds. “Morning, Doctor Bishop. This is Doctor Romanoff…”

“Belova. I go by Belova” Yelena corrects you and you nod.

“Oh, that will make it less confusing. She’s gonna be working with us for a bit. If you could teach her some of the basics of our ER I’d appreciate it”

“Oh… ok” Kate looks between you two, and then walks behind you. “Sorry, am I getting kicked out as your resident? Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all. Yelena is here to learn, as are you. There’s enough to do for everyone, right?”

You keep an eye on their interactions, noticing how Kate is a lot more uptight in the  way she keeps the ER than Yelena. The blonde moves around the hospital like she’s been there her entire life and it doesn’t come off as pretentious, but as second nature. Her mother probably always dragged her daughters along while she worked.

But, by the time there’s an ambulance coming along, you see her go into professional mode, talking to the paramedics.

“Male, forties. Fell off a ladder, was conscious but had a seizure and BP dropped” Drax says, and you move the patient to a gurney.

“Bishop? Belova?” you question them as the patient has another seizure.

“I’d administer lorazepam and rule out skull fraction and hemorrhage” Yelena says, and you nod.

“Very well. He’s your patient now” you nod. “Once you get the results, page me and Neuro”

Kate looks a little hurt at that, and you sigh, watching as Yelena stabilizes the man and coordinates with Barnes.

“She’s just here for a little while. And you need to be on your toes. ER is all about speed, Kate. Don’t sweat it”

“Yes, Doctor Y/L/N”

You pat her shoulder, going to check Natasha’s class. It’s already started and you know the exercises as she gave you an overview before anyone else. So you lean on the door, watching as everyone practises the sutures.

“Care to join us?” Natasha says and you shrug your shoulders.

“I’m on duty. Looks like your sister got her first surgery”

“So soon? Who did she piss off to get it?”

“Just my resident. That’s ok, though, I’m sure next surgery will be Kate’s” you look at Darcy, giving her an excited thumbs up when she shows you her sutures.

“Speaking of which, Fury has told me he wants Bishop and your friend Lewis in the first surgery” Natasha says and you nod, trying to hide your disappointment. “I’m really sorry, I wanted it to be you, but he’s doing us a favor with Yelena and we have to give something in return”

“I get it. There’s always a next one, right? Plus, I’m happy for Darcy, she’s an excellent surgeon and I’m sure she’ll do great” you smile at your friend. In that moment, your pager goes off and you sigh. “Gotta get back to it. See you around, Nat”

“Wait” she leaves the skills lab, following you into the hallway. Her hand rests on your wrist and you turn around.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you catch the frown on her face.

“I’m sorry, for giving you extra work with Yelena. I didn’t think… I was just saying you’re a great surgeon. If I had known my mother would do this I…”

“Nat, come on” you squeeze her hand, stepping closer. “It’s no bother at all. I’m happy to teach her whatever I can until your mother finds someone else back in Boston”

“You’re too kind. I might owe you a nice dinner after all of this” she smiles, noticing you haven’t let go of her hand.

“I’ll hold you to that” without thinking, your hand travels to her elbow and you give her a light squeeze. “I really have to go now” you say when you’re paged again. “Good luck with the surgery tomorrow”

“Thanks”

You smile back at her as you leave for the ER, finding Kate in the middle of chaos, with an accident involving three people.

“See? You got yourself at least two surgeries” you smile at her, overseeing the work. Kamala is already there, helping Kate with everything she needs.

“Heard there’s someone new” she whispers to the brunette as they stabilize a patient.

“Yeah, she’s the youngest Romanoff. I’m now competing with medical royalty for the best cases” Kate huffs, but shuts up when she catches you staring.

“She could be the Princess of Genovia and I’d still make her work for it, Bishop”

“What’s Genovia?” Kamala asks, confused.

“You’re so young” you sigh, feeling like the crypt keeper all of a sudden. “Take them to imaging and page me when you speak to Carol. I have to check on Yelena”

When you scrub in, you find that Yelena has made her way next to Tony, pushing Peter to the back of the room. It seems like she has a real talent for getting what she wants without most people noticing.

“Doctor Y/L/N, nice of you to join us. I thought you’d be with the rest of sycophants at Romanoff’s masterclass” Tony greets you bitterly.

“Doctor Stark” you try to tell him that another Romanoff is holding the suction tube, but he keeps ranting.

“Honestly, I can’t wait for this stupid training to be over. We have to pretend that we’re impressed by this, really? Stark Hospital is one of the top teaching hospitals in the continent. I’ve had applications from Yemen to study with me. I think it’s time we show the Romanoffs what it looks like to be at the forefront of innovation”

“Tony, I really don’t think we should…”

“Ugh, I get it. Natasha is your type. Redhead, green eyes, you have a crush. But honestly, I’ve known her for so long and I can tell you, she can be real phony”

“Honestly, Tony, just shut your mouth” you plead, mortified at everything Yelena just heard.

The blonde looks at you, but she seems amused.

“I agree with Doctor Stark” she says. “Natasha can be annoying. But then again, she’s my sister”

You could hear a pin drop after those words. Tony looks at you and you shrug your shoulders. It’s not like you didn’t try to warn him.

“More suction, please” is all he says, and Yelena leans forward.

“Is that ok, Doctor Stark?”

“Yeah. Peachy”

—

48 hours and six surgeries later, you feel completely beaten and ready to pass out.

The worst part is that you don’t even know if you’re gonna get some decent sleep when you get back home. Wanda texted you a couple of times, and you tried really hard to act normal, but all you want is an apology for the way she acted.

Unfortunately for those who knew you, you had a tendency to hold a grudge beyond reason.

So, you’re once again stalling, smoking outside the hospital when Natasha pulls over.

“Hey” she smiles and you wave. “Didn’t know you smoked”

“Only after a hard shift. Want one?”

“I quit last year” she shakes her head, sitting next to you.

“Congratulations. I quit every year” you joke. “Heard the first procedure went great”

“Yeah, there was a great deal of enthusiasm. Made me less reluctant to be here. And I promise you’ll be on the next surgery”

“It’s ok, I’m happy to wait for my turn. Good things come to those who wait”

“Speaking of which, what are you waiting for to go home?”

“I don’t know” you shrug your shoulders. “I just wanted a moment to chill before going back to reality, ya know?”

“If for some reason you end up on the couch again, I have a spare bed in the apartment” she offers and you laugh.

“Thank you, Nat” you watch as Yelena finally goes out to meet her sister. “Have a good night, you two”

“Bye, Y/N. Thank you for a great first shift!” Yelena says, excited. She was working as much as you did and for some reason she’s not looking disheveled or exhausted.

To be fair, you’ve been doing this for more years than her.

By the time you get home, all of the lights are out except the one on the porch. Thinking it might be better to stay downstairs, you drop your bag and plop down on the couch, like you used to do when you were living alone and came back completely spent from grueling shifts.

After a few minutes you hear someone walking down the stairs.

“Y/N?” Wanda calls and you sigh.

“Hey”

“I thought I heard you come in”

“Yeah, sorry” you sit up, rubbing your eyes. “It’s pretty late and I didn’t want to wake you up. Go back to sleep”

“Did you eat something?” Wanda ignores your suggestion to go back upstairs, sitting on the edge of the couch.

“Nah, I’m exhausted. Maybe tomorrow. Sleep is all I want now” you sink your face in the cushion, hoping that’s the end of the conversation.

“Come to bed” Wanda asks softly, her hand pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I can’t sleep without you” she admits in a low voice and you smile.

“Ok, then. Let’s go to bed” you stand up, allowing Wanda to lead you to your room, smiling when she settles next to you.

You’re practically asleep by the time your head hits the pillow, and Wanda admires your sleeping form, wishing she could know what’s going on with you.

“I love you” she whispers against your forehead as she places a small kiss there.

She wonders if that’s enough to get through this rough patch.

—

Hunger is what wakes you up. If your stomach wasn’t protesting the lack of food, you’d stay in bed for the next eight hours.

“Hey, you’re up” Wanda greets you when you walk in the kitchen.

“I’m starving” you say, going through the fridge and hoping Pietro didn’t eat everything again.

“Want me to make you something?”

“That’s ok. I’ll get some cereal” you reject her offer, though you are dying for some of her pancakes.

There’s a beat of silence as you start eating, and then Wanda interrupts it.

“Did you get to scrub in on that big surgery?”

“Nope. Guess Natasha doesn’t like me that much, huh?” you try to joke, but it comes off as bitter.

“So, we’re doing this” Wanda sighs, standing in front of you. You keep eating, looking down at your plate.

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Arguing over her”

“I’m not arguing. There’s nothing to argue about. I’m just mad and hurt because you made me sleep on the couch before a 48 hour shift over forgetting to take out the trash” you say, crossing your arms. Now you’re not even hungry.

“It’s not about the trash. It’s about how you’re constantly on your phone, or spend more hours in the hospital and how you walk  out of a freaking room with her” Wanda says, raising her voice.

“Wanda, she knows I’m with you. We barely talk about personal shit. Hell, I don’t even know if she likes women!”

“She likes you, and that’s enough for me to hate her and this whole situation”

“I have never, ever, given you a reason to doubt me or my committment to this family. I can’t control if she likes me, but what I can control is my own actions. And Wanda, I would never cheat on you. It’s not who I am” you insist. “This is the last time I will defend myself over this subject. You need to figure out if you can get over it or not, because it’s getting exhausting”

She looks at you, and you stand up, washing your dishes. As you’re about to leave the kitchen, Wanda calls for you. You’re surprised to feel her clinging to you, her hands around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry” she says against your neck. “You know how he lied to me. I guess I’m afraid it will happen again. But you’re right, you’re not him. I’m sorry, please, Y/N”

Her voice quivers as she keeps pleading and all of your defenses drop instantly. You turn around, hugging Wanda tight against your body.

“I’m here. I want to be here. I love you and the boys and this is the life I want. Don’t forget that”

“I know. I love you”

You give her a sad smile when you break apart, watching as tears roll down her cheeks.

“Maybe we could… let’s go out tonight. Have a date for ourselves. I’ll ask Laura to take the kids for the night or find a babysitter. I just want to be with you” she asks, leaning her forehead against yours.

“I’m down to whatever it is you want to do” you promise, kissing her nose. “So, we’re good?”

“Yes, detka. We’re good”

And for a moment, you truly believe this will be the end of it.

—

“Where are you going?” Billy follows you, while Tommy stays glued to his mother.

“Ask your Mom, bubs” you say, looking over at Wanda.

“We’re going to the ballet. Would you like to join us?”

“No” they both say, running out of the room.

“Are we really going to the ballet?” you say, trying to not sound disappointed. It’s not like you don’t want some time alone with Wanda, but you’re still pretty tired and if you sit in a theater for two hours you might end up asleep.

“Of course not. But I’m not telling you just yet” Wanda kisses your cheek, taking your hand so you both go down the stairs.

“Have fun tonight” Pietro waves goodbye, Morgan and the children busy with a videogame.

“Kids, come say bye to us” Wanda asks and the twins run to your arms.

“Love you. And you” you say, blowing a raspberry on Billy’s cheeks and then tickling Tommy.

“Love you too” they reply, giggling.

“Love you three” Wanda smiles, kissing them before taking your hand.

“So, when are you telling me… you’re kidding” you say when Wanda hands you a piece of fabric to cover your eyes. You scoff, but tie it, and lean in the seat of the car. “How did you know that my perfect date is to be kidnapped by a beautiful woman?”

“Well, you did tell me you like to be tied up” she jokes and you squirm in your seat. “Maybe some other time we’ll try that”

“Tease”

You try to picture the road Wanda is taking but after ten minutes you give up, leaning back and humming along to the beat of the music playing in the stereo. Thankfully it’s your Beatles playlist, as your father always made you listen to them.

“If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true, and help me understand, cos I’ve been in love before, and found that love was more than just holding hands” you sing, making Wanda laugh. Of course you know all the lyrics by heart.

“You have a really nice voice. You should sing more”

“Pass, baby. Can I take my blindfold now?”

“Always so impatient” Wanda teases you. “Fine, we’re here either way”

Cheering, you pull the blindfold down, blinking a couple of times to adjust your eyes. Looking out the window, you can see the lights of the amusement park that is close to the peninsula.

“Oh my God! I’ve been wanting to come here for so long”

Ever since you moved to the city, you had planned to visit with Darcy but work always got in the way. You knew Wanda had come with the kids in the past and you always talked about visiting again.

“Come on, let’s go” Wanda takes your hand, and you eagerly follow her to the entrance. You walk around, pointing at all the things you want to try. Without realising, Wanda is leading you to the ride you absolutely do not want to get on.

“Nu-uh” you step back when she turns you to the Haunted House.

“Oh, come on! Please? I can never go because of the kids, and I love haunted houses. Plus it’s in a cart so we’re not gonna be chased by anything”

“People pay money to get chased?” you shout, jumping away when a group of teenagers are wheeled between the doors of the ride, screaming. “Babe, come on. I’ll do anything to skip this one”

“Please? It will be fun. Ok, not fun for you” she clarifies when you make a face.

“Give me one good reason” you challenge her. Of course, Wanda decides to pull you into a kiss, and it’s so good it takes your breath away.

“I knew being this gay would get me in trouble” you mumble while she celebrates her victory.

As you wait in line, you try to get a look at what’s inside and watch people who leave the ride, talking and laughing. They don’t seem traumatized or crying. That’s good, right?

“Ok, no, I want out” you plead the minute you sit down, and the woman operating the ride gives you a curious stare. That makes you settle, and you sink in your small seat, where your legs can barely fit.

The cart is sent through the tracks and you’re engulfed by darkness, still trying to figure out if the first thing will jump from the left or the right.

“Hell, no” you scream, feeling something in your head.

“It’s just rags, detka” Wanda eases your nerves, looking excited for the next scare.

Now that you’re also worried about whatever touches your head, you miss the dummy that pops out on your right, flailing while something that looks like sausages spills out of its chest.

“Gross AND anatomically incorrect” you shout at it.

“You’re so crazy” Wanda laughs next to you, until something else jumps from a coffin and scares her.

“Please let it be over, oh, God why are there red lights”

You are wheeled into a room full of weird looking creatures, and a spray of fake blood almost stains your clothes.

“Should have worn scrubs” you mutter.

There are a couple of typical jumpscares, like the plastic bat that falls from the ceiling, or the cackling witch that almost touches you with its decaying hand.

“Let’s never do that again” you say as soon as the cart stops, jumping out and looking all disheveled.

“Mmm, let’s try the one where you walk next time we come” she says instead and laughs when you look like you’re going to pass out.

“You’re being mean”

“I’m sorry, let’s do something you want now”

Roller coasters and other mechanical rides have never been your jam, so you walk towards the carnival games. You try your luck at the ring toss, balloon darts and the fishing game.

“Ok, last one” you say, pulling Wanda to the milk botttle toss. You’re determined to win something for her, though she insists she doesn’t need anything.

“Ok, that was very impressive” she says when you throw the ball and it knocks down the bottle at the top. The second ball barely touches the rest of the bottles and you sigh, changing your stance. Before throwing, you look at Wanda and place your cheek next to her face.

“Good luck kiss?”

Your girlfriend blushes, but kisses you and walks back as you get ready to throw.

“Babe, I did it!” you shout, lifting Wanda in the air.

“Very nice, detka” she laughs as you put her down, turning to check all the stuffed animals that she can pick from. “Oh, I want the capybara”

“You heard the lady” you say to the man in charge of the stand and he hands it to Wanda.

As you get some food, she pulls it against her chest.

“I love it”

“I love you” you smile, kissing the back of her hand.

There’s a lot to pick from, but you settle on hot dogs and fries, talking about the book and Pietro’s physical therapy.

“What about your surgery?”

“What surgery?” you say as you finish your own food.

“Do you know when you’ll scrub in?”

“Oh, no idea. I know they’re having another one tomorrow, but the Chief’s the one making the calls right now, so” you shrug your shoulders. “Alright, I’m done. Want to go on the ferris wheel before we head home?”

“Sure”

Wanda was a bit hesitant because of the height, but once you reach the top of the ride and enjoy the view, she decides it was totally worth it.

“I loved our date night, thank you” you say, noticing how she’s getting cold and offering your own jacket. “Here, baby”

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it, even if I made you go into the Haunted House”

“Darcy must never hear how much I screamed” you warn her, enjoying how she scoots closer, leaning her head against your shoulder.

The view is breathtaking and you enjoy it in silence, until Wanda speaks again.

“Our first birthday here, mom and dad took us to one of these amusement parks. We had been in the US for some months and I think it was the first time I thought we could have a normal life”

“That sounds nice. I’m glad you had them to create good memories”

“Yeah, I wish my dad was around to see the kids grow” she sighs. “And if my mother wasn’t so stubborn…”

“Uh… your mom’s alive?” you blurt out, and smack your mouth shut, mortified. “Ok, that came out wrong. It’s just, you never mention her!” you stutter, while Wanda laughs.

“We had… a disagreement. After everything settled in Sokovia, they moved back to this small farm. It was the life they had always wanted. But my dad got cancer and he made mom promise she wouldn’t tell us. I was starting my job at the publishing house and he didn’t want to… I don’t know, worry us?”

“I’m sorry, Wanda”

“So, yeah, by the time we knew it was too advanced and we didn’t get to say goodbye. I’ve had… some resentment towards her ever since. I think we deserved to know” she looks away and you let her take time to calm down.

“I get it, it happens all the time. Sometimes patients want something that goes against their family’s wishes. It’s a fine line, between wanting the best for your loved one and giving them the freedom to choose”

“Yeah. I know Pietro speaks to her because he’s a mama’s boy. But she hates flying and I don’t feel like I’m strong enough to go back to Sokovia… there’s a lot of painful memories”

“Maybe one day we can all go. Or find a middle ground. Whatever you want”

“My mom would love you” Wanda says and you laugh.

“Well duh, all the Maximoffs love me”

“Especially me” she says, kissing you softly. You smile against her lips and break apart just as the ride ends.

You agree to drive back home, while Wanda plays music from your car console.

“You have a playlist titled W?”

“Yeah, those are songs that remind me of you”

The first song she plays is Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer.

“A classic, and so romantic”

“I need to see the entire playlist” she asks and you hand over your phone.

“The password’s the day of our first date” you say. Wanda melts at that, and she’s scrolling down to check out all the songs -her absolute favorite is This will be (An Everlasting Love) by Nat King Cole- when a text comes through.

Nat: Got you a spot at tomorrow’s surgery :)

Nat: So I think now you owe me dinner

Wanda reads the text a couple of times, and her curiosity gets the best of her. To you it looks like she’s scrolling through the playlist, but she’s actually going through your conversation with Natasha.

It’s definitely more flirty on her side, but you’re not acting cold towards her. Wanda knows how friendly you can be, but it seems like on some level, you’re tethering between nice and flirty.

She doesn’t get very far, feeling like she crossed a major boundary. Your words echo back. You’re done discussing the matter and it’s all in her head.

Right?

“Everything ok? I know you don’t like Paramore but The Only Exception makes me think of us” you say, unaware of what is happening.

“Yeah, no. I think I ate too much” Wanda lies and you squeeze her leg, parking outside of the house. She lets you open the door for her and as you pay Morgan, Wanda goes upstairs to change into her pajamas.

It’s all in your head.

But when you go up, and are lookig at your phone with a smile, she has to bite her tongue and pretend like everything’s fine.

“Oop, let me answer this” you say as you get a call.

“Don’t be long” she asks, her voice small.

“Yes, my love” you wink at her. Going downstairs, you look behind you to make sure she’s not listening. “Hello? Yes. About that ring. I’m buying it”

—

Life is great.

Fantastic.

You bought an engagement ring and you’re proposing to Wanda.

As you enter the conference room for the staff meeting, you whistle, making Stark look at you.

“Someone got lucky”

“Yes, I got lucky by meeting the most amazing woman in the world” you smile, sitting down next to Darcy.

“Ugh, I hate cheerful Y/N, it makes me want to unfriend you” she jokes, but you just roll your eyes.

Chief Fury goes over the most important things for every department, and then reminds you the next surgery with the Romanoff technique is happening today, with you as assistant to Natasha.

“Oh, that’s why you’re so peppy” Stark rolls his eyes.

“Tony, don’t be such a drag. Live, love, laugh” you pat his back as the meeting ends and you run after Darcy.

“Hey”  Natasha meets you in the hall and you stop for a second. “Ready for today?”

“Yes! I just need to ask Darcy some questions” you lie. “Meet you in the OR”

You finally catch up to your friend and she eyes you suspiciously.

“Did Wanda get you pregnant?”

“That would be a dream. Our kids would be beautiful. Come here” you pull her by the sleeve of her lab coat. “Wanna ask me what did I do this weekend?”

“No”

“Darcy” you stomp your foot on the ground and she sighs.

“Fine, Y/N, what did you do over the weekend? But without the dirty details” she adds, raising her hand.

“I went shopping. Sort of. I actually made a call about something I wanted to buy”

“New toaster?”

“Engagement ring” you say, and finally, Darcy reacts accordingly.

“Oh, my God! At last! Show me!”

“Ok, so only a picture because it’s getting adjusted to Wanda’s ring size but here”

Darcy admires the yellow gold ring, white diamonds surrounding a big ruby in the middle.

“Holy crap, it’s beautiful. How are you proposing?”

“Ugh, that’s the hard part. I want it to be memorable but not over the top, you know?” you take back your phone, smiling.

“So, a flashmob is out of the question?”

“Very much so. If Wanda sees me dancing she won’t want to marry me” you joke, making Darcy laugh.

“I’m happy for you”

“Thanks, pal. And you’re gonna be my maid of honor, whether you want to or not”

“I can live with that. Congratulations to you and Wanda” she adds a little louder, because Natasha is walking towards you, and your friend still doesn’t like the way the redhead looks at you.

“Congratulations are in order?” the woman says, eyeing you curiously.

“No, she’s just joking about uh, getting a new toaster” you lie, trying to keep your proposal a secret.

“Alright then. Let’s save some lives”

“Sounds good” you smile, walking down the hall with Natasha.

—

For the first time in a long time, Wanda wishes there was more chaos at home. The silence doesn’t help with those spiraling thoughts about you and that doctor.

You’re performing an exciting surgery next to her, saving lives and doing something you’ve always dreamed of doing.

How can she ever compete with that?

Will she have to watch as you keep pulling back, until you come to your senses and leave her?

You had so much fun on your date and Wanda thought things would get better. If she hadn’t seen those messages, maybe things would be different. What would you even think if you knew she read your private conversations?

Her mind’s a mess, so much so that she doesn’t even notice someone’s at the door of your former house, knocking and looking through the windows.

The girl looks fairly young, 18 at most, so she figures it might be a college student looking for accommodation. But she’s insisting on knocking even when it’s clear no one’s around, so Wanda decides it’s better to check if she can help.

“Hello there” Wanda approaches the girl, smiling.

“Hi. I… I’m looking for my sister”

“Oh, you might have the wrong address. This house is empty. What’s your sister’s name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N”

“You’re Y/N sister” Wanda repeats, amazed. She’s never even seen a picture of the girl. All she knows are your half siblings names. “Jenny”

“Yes. Do you know her? Can I borrow your phone? I really need to talk to her” the girl says, and Wanda pays closer attention to her demeanor. She has a backpack, running shoes and a piece of paper with the address. No phone, or anything else.

It honestly looks like she ran away from home.

“Ok, sweetheart, come over and we’ll try calling her. She’s in surgery right now, but I’m sure she’ll manage to come over if she knows you need her”

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a bother, Miss…”

“Wanda. My name’s Wanda”

—

Things are going great. You look at your work and then at Natasha across the operating table.

“Almost as good as mine” she says and you roll your eyes.

“It’s pretty darn good, Romanoff”

“Fine. I’ll make sure to write those words down in my report”

Fury is observing from the corner, approving of your work as well.

“Nice job, Y/L/N. Now, I’ve heard your residents are drowning with all the patients in the ER”

“Ah, this work never ever ends, does it?” you sigh, going out of the OR as the rest of the teams cleans up. Natasha is behind you and washes her hands next to you.

“That was amazing, Nat, honestly. Thank you”

“Don’t thank me. You earned it. No one practised more hours than you did”

“I had a great teacher” you smile at her. “What’s next? Monitoring over the next 24 hours?”

“I can handle that, I know you got work to do at the ER”

“No worries, I’ll stop by later and check how everything's going” you pat her shoulder, smiling as you leave the scrub room. You hear Natasha call your name and you turn, thinking there’s something you forgot. “What’s up?”

“I… nothing. Good job out there”

You nod, and leave as you get paged a couple of times. Yeah, Fury wasn’t exaggerating, the ER is total chaos. There’s a school group fighting over a baseball match gone wrong -two concussions, a broken nose- and to top it all of, Yelena and Kate are arguing over who gets what cases.

“Ok, that’s enough. Belova, CT scans. Bishop, you’re monitoring the post op of my patient with Doctor Romanoff”

Typically, that wouldn’t be the most exciting work to do, but it’s a new procedure and Bishop’s more than happy to obey.

“Can I get the broken nose too?“ Yelena asks, dancing when you nod.

One of the guys with a concussion has a seizure, which prompts one of the teachers to scream. You have to kick everyone out, trusting Yelena will be able to stabilize him.

You lose track of time, going in and out of the ER and asking for consults with Ortho, Peeds and Plastics. It’s only after a few hours that you think about checking your phone.

Six missed calls from Wanda. Your heart drops as you call her back.

“Baby, are you ok?”

“Yes. Relax” she says, noticing how tense you sound.

“Come on, are you hurt? Are the kids ok? Six missed calls is something” you begin to ramble.

“Your sister’s here” Wanda cuts you off, figuring there’s no easy way to say it.

“Jenny? Did my mother…?”

“No, it’s just your sister” Wanda looks back, lowering her voice. “I think she ran away from home”

“Oh, shit” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “That’s just fucking fantastic. My mother’s gonna make a scene”

“I don’t think…”

“Jenny came to find me. Who do you think she’ll blame?”

Wanda stays silent for a moment. Of course it’s not your fault, but knowing what she knows about your mother, it’s pretty obvious that she’ll find a way to make you responsible.

“Can I speak to her, please?”

“Jenny, Y/N wants to speak to you” Wanda says, passing the phone to your sister.

“I’m so sorry” it’s the first thing she says, which keeps your mouth shut. “She canceled our trip, said I wasn’t going away to college that far from home. Y/N, she’s been so awful all the time. I just want to be away from her like you”

“Jenny…” you sigh. You honestly didn’t know. All this time, you thought the problem was you. You, who came to live with her new family and be an intruder into their life. The unwanted child that she was forced to take in.

“Look, does your dad know at least? I’m sure they’re worried about you”

“I left my phone back at home and took a bus”

“Ok, ask Wanda to text me your dad’s number so they’ll know where you are. I’ll see if I can get them to wait until tomorrow to pick you up, and we’ll talk when I’m home”

“Ok. I really am sorry” she says.

“I know, kid. I need to speak to Wanda again”

While she hands over the phone, you take a second to breathe, trying to ease your nerves.

“Wands, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to involve you in all of this. I’ll find a way to leave work and take her to a hotel or something…”

“Detka” Wanda interrupts you. “Stay. Do what you have to do. I can take care of things here. We’re a team. We do this together”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. We’ll see you for dinner, ok?”

“Thank you”

“Anything for you” she says with a gentle tone, hanging up.

—

It feels like it’s been a week instead of a couple of hours. The ER was packed, Natasha’s patient had some complications and now you had to prepare to face your mother.

“Hey” Wanda walks out the second she hears your car. Your face says it all, so she skips the part where she asks how you’re doing.

“They’re picking her up tomorrow at noon” is all you say, allowing Wanda to hug you, and placing your head against her shoulder. You breathe deeply, trying to ease your nerves.

“She’s playing with the twins now. Come on” Wanda takes your hand to lead you back inside, but you stay rooted in your spot.

“I haven’t seen her in ten years… I don’t even know what to say to her”

“Maybe she needs someone who listens and understands what she’s going through. Come on, you’ve got this, detka” she insists, careesing your cheek.

“Wanda, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I would have done without you”

Those words, coupled with the look of complete adoration you’re giving her, is enough to soothe her soul and make Wanda forget all those fears about not being enough for you.

Jenny’s sitting at the kitchen counter, speaking to Tommy and Billy.

“They’re very curious about your sister”

“Yeah, well, so am I”

Hearing the door close, your sister turns around, and you stare at each other for a moment. It makes your heart ache, to see her all grown up. Last time you saw Jenny she was seven.

Setting boundaries with your mother came at the cost of watching your siblings grow.

“Hey, kids” you say. Tommy and Billy run to greet you, and you kiss their heads. “My minions”

“Hi” Jenny says, standing up and looking at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble”

“Let’s walk Sparky” you propose, grabbing his leash. The dog knows exactly what that means, and he starts jumping around. “We’ll be back in a bit”

“Ok, sweetheart” Wanda smiles.

“They seem nice” Jenny comments when you walk down the street.

“Yeah, they are. I’m very lucky to have them”

“I didn’t know…”

“I know, I’m sorry. I try to keep these things to myself. Your mother would find a way to ruin it”

“Of course” she says, fidgeting with her hands.

“I spoke to your dad. They agreed to fly tomorrow and pick you up at the hospital. He wasn’t mad, just worried”

“He’s not the one I have a problem with” she huffs. “Dad’s not even happy with her, but he thinks we’ll be traumatized if they get a divorce”

Sparky wants to chase after a cat and you let his barking fill the silence for a while.

“So what’s the plan here? You want to be away from her?”

“I just… can’t breathe anymore. She’s cruel and manipulative and controling. Sometimes I feel like the only way to make it stop is by never speaking to her again”

“Yeah, that sounds familiar. In my case it was easier, she was very eager for me to leave and never come back” you point out, starting to head back home. “I don’t think that will be the case with you”

“Well, maybe I should simply stop talking to her at all” Jenny says.

“Listen, ask your dad for support. Maybe there’s a way to find a middle ground. Because it’s not an easy thing, kid. You’re alone for a lot of the time. I can try and help, but with work and everything else… leaving home and cutting her off will mean a lot of changes. That’s all I’m saying”

“I know” she nods, her voice lower than before.

“Come on, I’m starving” you open the door, letting Sparky run towards the kitchen.

Dinner is spent talking about your sister, and she’s happy to chat with the kids. There’s an awkward pause when they ask about how you were growing up.

“Guys, Jenny was just a baby, she doesn’t remember a lot. What I can tell you is she cried every time she watched Finding Nemo”

“I did not!” she snaps and you hold a laugh. “I only cried because you played it all the time and I was sick of it”

“Yeah, yeah”

“Pietro cried when we watched Snowhite” Wanda intervenes and now, you do let out the loudest lauh.

“Hey, I’m just here minding my business, why are you attacking me?” he says, though he gives Wanda a playful smile.

It’s nice to see Jenny so comfortable, and definitely more relaxed than before. But you know that’s the way Wanda can get to people. She has the talent of making you feel like you belong without trying.

As you look at your girlfriend from across the table, laughing and chatting with your sister, you remember the ring you’re getting in a couple of days. And honestly, it doesn’t matter how you propose, you just hope Wanda wants to be with you forever.

Jenny helps with the dishes, and you recognise that eagerness to be useful in the way you used to clean every surface of your mother’s house, to at least be considered less of a burden. So, you offer to split the work.

“It’s fine, kiddo” you reassure her when she protests.

“I’m almost 18” she challenges you and you let out a laugh.

“Oh, yeah, to be 18 and think I know everything. I’m your big sister. You’re always gonna be a baby to me”

You both work in silence, until Jenny speaks again.

“I remember some stuff. Not a lot, but enough to know how unfair she was to you. But you were never unkind to me. Or Zach”

“It wasn’t your fault. Whatever shit that woman had going on with me was between us two” Jenny snorts at that. “Oh, fuck, pretend you didn’t hear me curse”

“You just did again!”

“No, fuck my life, I already owe like 30 bucks to the swear jar” you hiss, making Jenny laugh again. You throw some water her way, and you engage in a soap war.

“Nu-uh, no mess in my kitchen. I like to keep it clean” Wanda interrupts, scolding you.

“Oh, babe, come on. It’s not like we’ve never had se…”

“Y/N!” she slaps your shoulder. “Do not give this young woman the wrong impression about me. Jenny, we have a full house, but I made the couch as comfortable as possible”

“That’s ok, it’s way better than a bus seat” your sister smiles. “Goodnight and thank you for everything”

“Night, kid” you say, letting out a sigh when she leaves the kitchen. You turn to Wanda, pulling her by the waist and holding her impossibly close. “Thank you for everything. You kept calm and were kind to her. I don’t deserve you”

“You make it sound like I’m perfect”

“You are” you say with complete devotion, kissing her cheek. “I’m not ready for tomorrow, Wanda”

“We’ll do it together” she kisses your shoulder, but you shake your head.

“I don’t want that horrible woman anywhere near you. I’ll come back to pick up Jenny and hand her over to the parents at the hospital”

“Come back? Are you going to the hospital now?” she says.

“I’ll be restless and overthinking… I think only work can get me through this night” you sigh.

“Ok, if that’s what you need to do” Wanda agrees, but you catch the hurt in her eyes. “I’ll go back to working on some sketches, then”

She’s about to leave the kitchen when you change your mind.

“Can I watch you work? I think that would help me”

“Yes, of course” Wanda smiles, reaching for your hand. You pause before the door, kissing her softly.

“Love you”

Jenny is fast asleep when you walk past her.

You settle in Wanda’s study, getting cozy in the small sofa while she takes a seat and works on her drafting table.

Her soft movements lull you, and before you can tell, you’re fast asleep.

Wanda watches as you rest, hoping you can finally have a peaceful night.

—

The drive to the hospital is quiet.

Wanda said goodbye to Jenny with a hug, and a reminder that she’s always welcomed in your home.

But now it’s only the two of you in the car, and you don’t really know how to comfort her.

“If I were to go to college close to Westview… could I visit? I know you’re busy with work and your family, I’m just thinking…”

“Jenny, of course you can. You heard Wanda”

“I’m scared” she admits when you park, and you stay inside the car for a minute longer.

“Look, she’ll probably blame me. So, let her. Don’t argue or defend me” you advise. “She can’t hurt me, not anymore”

Jenny nods, and follows you as you leave the parking lot. Darcy is waiting for you in the lobby.

“Hi, Jenny” she greets. Darcy’s the only one of your friends who knows your family. It was during the only time they visited on campus and Darcy made sure your mother knew she didn’t like her.

“Hey” the girl greets, shyly.

“I have to make my rounds, but Darcy will spend some time with you in the cafeteria and then you can wait in the break room”

Fortunately, the night shift wasn’t so chaotic and Natasha’s patient seems to be stable.

Seems like Natasha went home right after you, so she might be back anytime now. Either way, you keep working until your phone rings.

“Hey, we’re here” Jenny’s father says as you pick up the phone.

“Ok, wait outside. We don’t want her making a scene”

“Yeah” he hesitates and you know he’s just as worried. You’re about to hang up, but think twice.

“Ed, take care of them. They’re good kids”

Jenny isn’t thrilled when you come looking for her. As she walks besides you, you pull her into a hug.

“You’re a strong kid. It’s gonna be fine” you say, and she holds on to you tighter. 

When you walk out of the hospital, your eyes meet your mother’s. How you wish you could say she doesn’t scare you anymore, but a part of you will always be a kid at the mercy of her twisted ways.

Jenny looks at you one last time before she walks up to her parents. If things were different, you’d never let her go back to such a horrible environment.

You prefer to look down until they’re gone.

Which is why you never see the blow coming.

Your mother slaps you across the face and your cheek and the skin around your eye burns.

“You poisoned her against me”

Even if you feel humiliated, you laugh, rubbing your face.

“Have you tried not being a fucking monster to your kids, for once?”

She aims again, but the slap doesn’t land. That’s when you look up, and watch as Natasha holds her wrist, glaring at the woman.

“I would think twice before doing this” Natasha threatens, and you figure her hold most be doing some harm, as your mother retreats her hand.

“You’re dead to me. Don’t ever try to contact me again” she hisses your way and you want to cry with relief. That’s the best thing she’s ever told you.

“I’m sorry” Jenny shouts, getting dragged away by her mother, Ed looking pissed at his wife.

To be fair, seems like her husband hates her guts too. Not that it’s difficult to do so.

“Are you ok?” Natasha turns to you, her hand on your cheek.

“I forgot about the big ass rings she’s always wearing” you try to joke, but you’re skin is still burning and it’s hard to open your left eye.

“Come on” Natasha takes your hand, leading you through the hospital halls until she finds an empty room. Quickly checking for any medical supplies she might need, Natasha comes back to sit next to you.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m ok. Besides the slap”

“Yeah, it’s gonna leave a mark for a couple of days” Natasha mutters, checking that the skin is only a bit reddened.

“Nice. It will match the one I have on the back of my head from when she threw a glass at me” you try to joke, but Natasha stays silent.

“Can you open your eye?”

“I think so” you make an effort, blinking a couple of times. Natasha holds your chin, inspecting your pupil.

“It’s fine” she says, nodding. “We should probably put something cold so the swelling goes down, though”

“Ok” you nod. Natasha’s about to stand up when she catches the tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m here” she reassures you, holding your face with her hands.

“I failed her. I should have known… I should have stayed to protect her. But I left, because it was easier…”

“It’s not your responsibility. You were a kid too” she says, catching a tear that rolls down your cheek. “You’re kind and sweet, and a wonderful person. You didn’t let that woman poison you. That’s what matters”

Her words hit you like a wave, so you close your eyes and breath. You’re about to thank Natasha when you see it.

It’s a very brief moment, but you catch it.

Natasha staring at your lips.

Her hands are still on your cheeks, looking conflicted on what to do next. Pull apart and pretend it never happened? Lean forward and kiss you?

Natasha knows you caught her.

And you haven’t pulled back.

Pull back, pull back.

Whatever you were about to say is interrupted by your pager.

911.

Of course.

“I…”

“Yeah” Natasha nods, finally dropping her hands and standing up, her back to you. You grab the doorknob, but don’t turn it in your hands, heart still racing.

“Natasha” you say and she turns around, looking hopeful.

“Doctor Y/L/N, there you are” Kate walks in, but her eyes widen as she sees Natasha across the room. “I’m sorry, there’s an emergency. An accident in the bridge, multiple people hurt. We’re called onsite”

“Get everything ready and page Yelena” you ask. Kate nods, leaving the door open.

“I have to…” you say, looking back at Natasha.

“Be careful” is all the redhead says, smiling at you.

“Thank you. For what you did back there” you remember, smiling one last time as you leave the room.

It’s all a blur as you get ready to leave, packing bags with medical supplies. Your mind is elsewhere, especifically in that room with Natasha.

Would something have happened if it weren’t for Kate’s interruption?

“Hey” Yelena calls for you, and you snap out of those thoughts.

“Come on, you two. Lewis is running the ER; be in constant contact to alert about upcoming patients” Kate and Yelena follow you to the ambulance waiting, and you sit across from the blonde. “Alright, Belova. Let’s see what you’ve got”

--

There’s a reason not everyone can do this job.

Your team steps out of the ambulance and walks into pure chaos. At least ten cars have crashed against each other, while a bus impacted the railway. 

“Driver of the bus lost consciousness. Crashed into the rail and other cars” Clint says as soon as you come into view. “We’re prioritizing the people on the bus, we don’t know how much damage there is on the rail and it can be dangerous”

“Kate, you can handle this, right?” you say, and the brunette nods, excited at the prospect of working solo. “Belova, you’re with me”

Yelena is overwhelmed, looking around at the people who are in shock or bleeding.

“Come on, we’re here to help, not stare”

“Yes, I’m sorry”

Clint’s team is helping everyone out of the bus and you walk up to the driver’s side. A car is blocking the door and he’s still unconscious.

“What do we do?” you ask Yelena.

“Check if he’s breathing”

“He is. And?” 

“Check his pulse. Then we…”

“Immobilize neck and spine, place him on the back board and carry him out” you say. “You gotta go faster, Belova”

An EMT joins you, helping with the maneuvers until you’re out of the bus. 

“Flail chest and hypoxia. I’m starting BVM” Yelena says, pulling out the equipment. She makes sure everything is in place before the ambulance leaves for Stark Hospital.

You keep working on more people, and the less critical injuries are redirected to Westview Medical Center. When you’re almost done, Kate asks for your help and you leave Yelena checking the vitals of an elderly man.

The blonde is exhausted, leaning against the railway and watching you work with Kate. The brunette has a lot more confidence in her movements and decisions, and Yelena tries to think that some day she’ll manage to be at that level of skill. As she looks down to the bridge, she notices a motorcycle. Leaning forward, she catches sight of a leg, noticing there’s a person trapped. She’s about to turn and ask for help, but you’re doing CPR while Kate struggles to stabilize a woman. The jump isn’t that bad, so she decides to go over the railing and land on the pile cap.

“Hello? Sir?” She shakes the man and searches for a pulse, but it’s obvious by his injuries that he’s dead. The question is how to go back to the bridge now. She tries to climb back using some of the loose parts of the rail, but she stumbles, making part of the structure fall close to her head.

“What’s that noise?” you ask, looking around. “Where’s Yelena?”

As you run around, searching for her, you hear a metallic crash and the splash of water.

“Yelena?!” you scream, looking everywhere for her. You spot her windbreaker stuck in the pier of the bridge. 

“Do you think she fell in the water?”

“I don’t think, I know” you say, your heart dropping as you spot her getting carried away by the current, still unconscious. “Tell Clint to hurry up, because I really don’t wanna die today” 

“Wait!” 

But you’re already diving, and the cold water leaves you out of breath. It feels like your lungs are on fire when you gasp for air, and you have to use all your strength to not get dragged away from Yelena. Her bag is helping to keep her on the surface, though she’s not awake and you have no idea how long she’s been in the water.

It takes you a few minutes swimming against the current to reach her, and by the time you do, you’re exhausted.

“Come on, Yel” you say, keeping her head above the water. You’re not gonna be able to keep this up for much longer, and the bridge is looking further away every time you turn around.

If you survive this, you’re gonna propose to Wanda the next time you see her.

But as a wave hits you and you struggle to keep yourself and Yelena afloat, you think that’s a pretty massive if.

--

Natasha’s not a team player, that’s for sure. But the ER is a mess, and she knows it’s all hands on deck. So, she scrubs in, working with Darcy and Barnes to help everyone that comes in.

“We got the last one coming,” Darcy announces, picking up the phone. “Shit. Romanoff”

“What?” Natasha asks, although she’s afraid she knows the answer.

“Your sister, something happened… Y/N dived to rescue her, they both got dragged by the current” Darcy says, holding the phone against her ear. “Ambulance is five minutes away” 

Natasha feels like throwing up. Those are the longest five minutes of her life, and Fury joins her as they wait for them to arrive. 

“Female, twenties. Unconscious, hypothermic. Intubated and started oxygenation” Drax says as soon as the ambulance stops. Kate jumps out, running next to the gurney and holding on to Yelena.

“Kate, where’s…” Darcy says, and you jump out of the passenger seat, holding a blanket. You’re freezing, but alive.

“Here. I’m fine. She didn’t spend that much time underwater, I got to her soon” 

“We need to stabilize her and raise temperature. You, stay here and let someone check you” Darcy says when she sees you getting ready to help.

Natasha is in the room with her sister, while Fury, Barnes and Darcy work. Taking a deep breath, you walk to the locker room to find dry clothes, and hopefully get a little warmer.

You honestly thought you’d both die out there, until Clint arrived in a boat that he stole from heaven knows where. Still, it was a close call.

Hopefully, Yelena will be alright.

Once you change into some dry scrubs, you notice there’s a gash in your arm. Sighing, you walk to a supply closet, looking for something to clean up the wound. Someone walks in and you turn around when the door slams behind them. Natasha looks at you, chest heaving.

“Is Yelena…?” you fear the worst.

But she doesn’t let you finish.

Natasha’s lips crash against yours, holding you by the neck and inviting you to explore her mouth. All you feel is the warmth of her body against yours, the passion she’s pouring into the kiss intoxicating and clouding your mind. Your hand goes around her waist to pull her closer…

Wanda.

The thought makes you open your eyes, and you pull back, out of breath. Natasha’s still holding on to you, and you almost get lost on her green eyes when someone else walks in.

Carol looks between you two, and Natasha turns around, hiding her face.

“Wanda’s here”

Your heart drops. Without looking back to Natasha, you leave the room, following Carol.

“Darcy called me. I was so worried” your girlfriend launches into your arms, her face against your chest. You try to control your shaking hands, arms going around her shoulders. “I’m so relieved that you’re ok”

In that moment, you turn your bodies around and your eyes meet Natasha’s.

You feel guilt, shame. 

And something else.

A flutter in your chest at the memory of her lips on yours.

No, you’re definitely not ok.

[kurogane2512]

Did Vautour's event and interrogation in one sitting cause I'm a simp and I love her so much now 😭 This is inspired from that massage supervision incident with her😩

18+ CONTENT

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Vautour Bleu x fem!reader (Chief)

Type: Fluff and smut (Spoilers for Vautour's real name and backstory)

Vautour Bleu, a mysterious and enigmatic new Sinner you had recently allied with. Her reputation as a merchant was spread all around in the WhiteSands as a shrewd woman who’d leave no scraps and would always benefit from a deal. Eventually, you ended up making a deal with her as well, a deal that involved her offering herself to be your Sinner willingly while you promised her a future for the people beyond DisCity. Although, you let her continue her business with her caravan, she was still required to abide by some regulations as a Sinner which caused her to come to the bureau every now and then.

Today was one of those days when she was called in for some checkups and had a psychological consultation scheduled. Despite her having a fairly friendly demeanour, she still harboured some deep trauma that shaped her to be known as the ‘blue vulture’ she is today. You decided to personally attend her session today in hopes of knowing her better and helping her as needed. She was secretive about her past and deflected all the questions thrown at her, barely giving any information about herself. You had expected this, you still didn’t even know Vautour Bleu properly, there was no way you could know her past self so easily.

However, as the session continued, you noticed traces of fatigue and tiredness in her expression and eyes. You had come to recognize she was quite laid-back, but her mind was always active. This looked like genuine tiredness that you’d normally not see on her and became worried if something was wrong.

“Vautour, are you not feeling well today?”

Vautour seemed taken aback by your question and the way you gestured at her face.

“Really? What makes you say so?”

“You have got dark circles under your eyes and are constantly moving your neck. Did you have trouble sleeping last night?”

A trace of a smirk adorned her lips, her voice letting out a hum.

“Hmm, paying close attention to me, aren’t you?~”

You blushed for a moment and cleared your throat, “O-Of course, you are my Sinner, it’s my responsibility to take care of you.”

Vautour smiled faintly then tilted her head while pondering.

“Now that you mention it, I did sleep in a weird position last night. My neck and shoulders are rather stiff.”

“Oh, was the bed or pillow not comfortable? I’m sorry, I’ll have them changed immediately.”

She let out a chuckle, “No need to trouble yourself with such trivialities. The facilities were fine, I’m just getting used to sleeping in a new place. I’m not going to be sleeping in every day so it’s no point going that far.”

“It’s no trouble, I don’t want any of my Sinners to be uncomfortable.”

“Hehe, how kind you are to your Sinners, little Chief~”

She rested her head on her arm that was draped across the chair, gazing at you with a smile.

“W-Well, anyways. It seems a massage would be a good therapy for you today. If you don’t mind, I can give you a massage.”

“Oh? That sounds wonderful. It’d be my pleasure~”

You walked behind her and waited as she removed her blue coat, bringing her upper back and shoulders to view. You felt warmth on your face looking at her fair and smooth skin as she parted her thick and fluffy blonde hair to the side.

“I’m ready, little Chief~”

You snapped out of you trance and came closer to place your hands on her shoulders.

“Where does it pain the most?”

“Hmm.... just there, a little below....” she instructed as you dragged your hands to where she wanted, “Yes, right here....”

You began by applying gentle pressure at first, carefully finding the knots.

“Is this alright?”

Vautour let out a pleasured hum, “....Yes, you can go harder.”

“Okay....”

You pressed down with your thumbs near her shoulder blades, making her arch in response with a sweet sigh.

“Oh, that was good.... Yes.... just like that~”

Her voice almost sounded like a moan, instantly making you flustered but you kept your composure and continued massaging her. Your fingers traced in circular motions over her upper back while your thumb clenched in and out, making a rhythmic pattern to ease out her muscles. She tilted her neck as you came up to massage near her nape, again letting out the same kind of relaxed hums that could easily be misinterpreted. You wondered if she was doing this intentionally, or if the massage was really just that good.

“Hmm.... more in this spot....” she brought her hand to hold yours and guided you to the centre of her back, “Do it just like before, that felt perfect~”

“Y-Yes, as you say....”

Vautour gazed into the distance as her eyes became hazy, enjoying the sensations. You understood her relaxed state and decided to ask her a bit about herself, hoping to earn some answers now.

“So, your real name is Madeleine, right?”

She remained silent for a moment and contemplated her answer then decided to reply truthfully.

“Madeleine Noailles..... Hehe, it’s been more than a decade since I heard it.”

“Noailles.... I have never heard of that family name in DisCity. You lived very far away, didn’t you?”

“Mhm, on the opposite end of WhiteSands. I lived with my family- my parents and brother- and a team of kind and helpful servants.”

This was the first time you heard her speak of having a family, she had said she was alone. You wanted to know more about her family but weren’t sure if it was the right time.

“I see.... What made you become a travelling merchant in the WhiteSands?”

Vautour again remained silent and contemplated her answer.

“When disasters strike, even the noblest are forced to dirty their hands to survive.”

Of course, she answered it cryptically. It was a standard answer most outlanders in the WhiteSands would give. You waited in hopes for her to say more but she became silent and you decided to stop probing for now, patience was the key with her.

“Hmm, you are quite skilled at massaging, Chief~”

“I wouldn’t say skilled. I just spend a lot of time at my desk so I have learned some key techniques to work out the knots myself.”

You withdrew your tired hands after a while. Vautour rolled her neck and shoulders slightly before standing up to wear her coat.

“Thank you, that was wonderfully relaxing~”

“You are welcome. We can end our session for today, I look forward to our next meeting.”

You raised your arm forward in a handshake position. Her soft hand joined with yours in agreement before she traced her fingers up your arm and walked near your ear to whisper.

“Next time you need a massage, you can let me return the favour. I’d be more than happy to be of service, dear Chief~”

Her voice came in a hush, warm breath tickling your ear and making you flustered. You merely nodded at her proposition then watched her leave, your thoughts still stuck on the lingering sensations of her soft skin. You took a deep breath then wrapped up your things from the room and went back to your office. A few days passed without Vautour Bleu’s visit; her next session was scheduled for after 10 days. You continued keeping in touch with her through letters as promised and were glad to see her doing fine with her caravan, even sending more refuges your way to take care of.

It was one ordinary night when you were staying up late in your office doing paperwork as usual. The end of the month was approaching and you had to finalize the reports of all your work done in the past month, which had been quite a handful due to the incident with Desir. You leaned back on your chair for a moment and stretched out your arms, rolling your neck and shoulders and pressing down on some spots. You suddenly remembered that day with Vautour when you had given her a massage and she promised to return the favour, now would have been a good time if she was around.

A sudden knock was heard on your door followed by a familiar figure walking in, “Working till late, little Chief?~”

It felt like a miracle that Vautour Bleu was here just when you thought about her.

“Vautour? What are you doing here? Your next session is in a week....”

Vautour closed the door and walked inside, “I felt like staying for the time being, until the next session. Work has been going well lately, the caravan can handle without me for some time.”

“I see, it’s good to have you then. Your room is intact, I’ll send the cleaning staff right away to give it a polish. You can wait here till then.”

Vautour nodded with a smile and took a huff from her pipe as you informed the cleaners. She looked at the way you tilted your neck and stretched your arms, a smirk drawing up her lips.

“Need a massage, Chief? I gather you have been working for quite some time.”

“A-Ah, you are right, I have to complete many reports for this month.”

Vautour smiled wider and walked closer to you, “Seems I came at the perfect time then. Let me return the favour as promised.”

You were hesitant to agree, “I-It’s okay, you don’t have to really do it. I appreciate the thought....”

She extended her hand to hold yours, slowly intertwining your fingers together.

“I insist. I don’t like owing favours to others. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to receive service once in a while, would it?~”

You knew she wouldn’t let it go and decided to agree.

“Alright, thank you. Uh, I think we should sit on the sofa, it would be easier for you.”

Vautour nodded and kept down her pipe at your desk then followed you towards the sofa.

“You should remove your shirt; direct pressure will be more effective.” Vautour suggested.

“Uh, okay....”

You turned away from her and unbuttoned your grey shirt, leaving your black undershirt on. Vautour was about to suggest taking off the undershirt as well but held back her words for now. You sat on one corner of the sofa sideways and waited as she took her seat behind you. You suddenly became shy of her presence as she placed her hands on your back, gently gripping your shoulders.

“Uh, just around the neck area and top of the shoulders....”

She dragged her hands to where you instructed and started applying pressure, trying to feel up your tense muscles but your undershirt was making her hands slip and be unable to feel you properly.

“Remove this as well, I can’t determine the right pressure.”

You were reluctant to considering you’d left in just your bra, and didn’t want her to see your bare skin.

“Uh, it’s okay. You don’t have to do it too hard....”

“I won’t be satisfied if it’s not done right.”

She continued insisting, making it difficult for you to deny. Her face came closer and you could feel her breathe against your skin as she whispered, “Just relax, you don’t have to worry about anything with me~”

You pursed your lips then finally agreed. She helped you pull up the undershirt from your back and intently watched your naked body come in view, but the sight was a little surprising. There were some scars and faded wounds, mostly around your upper back and one near the waist. She realized this was perhaps why you were hesitant to show yourself, but to her it didn’t matter a bit. If anything, she became more impressed by you. She had come to understand you were different than the other officials, but this further proved how hard you worked to fight Mania and protect your Sinners.

She didn’t speak a word and placed her hands on the same spots again. Just when she was about to start, you hissed and recoiled in surprise.

“Sorry, your rings felt cold....”

“Oh, my apologies. Let me remove them, they will hurt you anyways.”

She took off her rings and kept them on the table in front then placed her hands on your back again, starting to rub and apply pressure. Her gaze lingered over each scar, noticing their intricate patterns while her hands didn’t stop massaging. Your skin was rougher than she anticipated, quite a contrast to her own soft and clear skin despite travelling in the barren and scorching WhiteSands so much. As she moved lower to your shoulder blades, she couldn’t help but trace a finger over the scar there and earned a shiver of surprise from you.

“V-Vautour?”

“Relax, I was merely curious~”

She continued her massage, now rubbing your shoulder blades and pressing down on certain spots with her thumbs. You let out a hiss as she focused on some hard knots, arching your back slightly from her touch. The reaction was amusing to her, but she held back her teasing for now.

“....Were you expecting something different?” the question left your mouth before you knew it, you weren’t sure why you asked that.

Vautour Bleu simply hummed, “Whatever do you mean, little Chief?~”

“The scars.... did they surprise you?”

Her hands stopped for massaging for a second before she moved them down near your waist, you also felt her lean close, so much so that her warm breath brushed past your ear.

“Perhaps, a little. But, just to assure you, I don’t find them unsightly. I know you are different from the officials at the Outland Affairs Bureau, even the FAC- that’s the reason I even proposed the deal. I suppose I still underestimated you a little.... can you blame me for that?~”

“No, it’s okay.... You aren’t the first one to be surprised. I guess I appear like someone who just sits behind a desk all day, haha~” you feigned a laugh to lighten the atmosphere but Vautour didn’t buy it. She parted your hair to the side and pressed herself to your body, placing her head near the crook of your neck and resting her face on your shoulder.

“That’s not the case. I have done my research on you now; I know all the work you have done for DisCity. It’s my own preconceptions that are a little difficult to break....”

Her hushed voice flew past your ear, sending more shivers down your body. Her hands slowly wrapped around your waist and she placed a kiss behind your ear, earning a startle from you.

“Would you like to know the real reason I came to stay here tonight?”

You didn’t expect her to bring this up but were equally curious to know hence nodded.

“I have always travelled in the WhiteSands with my caravan, staying in makeshift homes before Desir came along. In no time, I made it my hideaway and a place to call home. Whenever my wings would get tired, I’d fly to Desir. After it’s fall, I was once again on the road all the time, drifting in the endless sands. Then you took me as your Sinner and gave me a place here. It is far less luxurious than my abode in Desir, but there is a strange sense of homely comfort here. I have not stayed for long, yet I find myself yearning to come back. After all, even a vulture needs a nest to fly to at the end of the day.”

She spoke in a whisper, making her words come out in a gentle and soft tone.

“Who would have guessed a bird would find solace in a cage?~”

You were surprised by her confession, perhaps she was much simpler to understand than you thought.

“....I’m glad that you see the bureau that way, you are always welcome to come here.”

She smiled and planted more kisses along your neck, “You are exceptional, little Chief. I have confidence that you will uphold our deal and not disappoint me. And these scars? Beautiful, they show your resilience. Never see it any other way. Now, shall we continue the massage? I can feel you are still very stiff in some places~”

You nodded, “Thank you, it felt nice to hear that....”

Vautour smirked to herself then placed her hands on your back like before, pressing down on the stiff spots and massaging them. Her soft hands massaged in a magical manner, draining all stiffness and fatigue from your muscles. You sighed in relief at some places, making her intrigued. She suddenly pressed down on your shoulder blade, earning a strangled moan from you.

“Ngh-!~”

Oh, how she loved that sound.

She found out your sensitive spots quickly, intentionally pressing on them harder than usual to make you moan and whimper.

“Aaahn-! Vautour, a bit softer, please....”

She smiled, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. This will relieve you~”

She slyly leaned closer to your back, making sure you wouldn’t feel her presence. You merely felt her breath brush past your ear and didn’t think much of it. Her finger again traced over a scar near the middle before she wrapped her hand around your nape and massaged it, your head automatically arching into her palm.

“Aaah.... yes, that part pains a lot....” you muttered in breathy moans.

“Very stiff your body is....” her voice suddenly drew close to your ear, and you finally realized how close she was sitting. Her clothed breasts pressed on your back and her lips touched your ear, warm breath tingling it.

“Why don’t you delegate some work to other staff? You have an Adjutant, don’t you?”

“Nightingale already handles many things, most of this work can only be done by me....”

“Hmm, I see~” she hummed in a low voice.

She moved her hands down to your lower back and made gentle circles on your waist.

“Do you plan to work more after this?”

“Mhm, likely for an hour.”

As you spoke that, you felt her hands wrap around your waist again, but this time her fingers traced teasing patterns on your abdomen right above the waistline of your pants as if suggesting something.

“Why don’t I help you loosen up in another way then?~”

“W-What? Are you suggesting what I think you are....?”

Vautour smirked and rested her face on your shoulder, drawing her lips near your cheek.

“And what are you thinking? Do tell me, my little Chief~”

Her fingers kept teasing over your belly, tracing some of the scars and daring to go lower.

“N-Nothing, I’m fine now. Thank you for the massage, I’ll continue my work-!

“Shh~” she hushed in your ear before dragging her lips to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“You still look quite tense. Let me help you, ma chèrie~”

“Vautour.... mmh.... you don’t have to....”

Your gaze lowered to where her hands were, watching them rub up and down on your stomach while her slender, long fingers teasingly slipped under your pants occasionally.

“I want to. I have been so intrigued by you since the day we met in Desir, how I have longed to see you in this state~”

She continued whispering in your ear in a low voice, your body shivering from the sensations. You could barely resist her touch every time, it felt like she had cast some spell on you with just her presence. How could you deny this moment?

“....If the great Ms Vautour Bleu is so eager to offer her services, then who am I to refuse?~” you tried to tease back, not wanting to appear too pliable in her hold.

“Hehe, we’ll see who’s the eager one here, little Chief~”

Her fingers wasted no time to unbutton your pants, effortlessly opening them in a single tug. Her left arm wrapped around your torso to keep you in place, your body automatically leaning back at her and she seemed to welcome it. Her right hand now slipped beneath your pants, rubbing your core over your underwear.

“Oh, what do we have here? Seems you have been anticipating this with how wet you are~” she husked, feeling amused at your arousal.

“No, t-this is....” you tried to counter back, but had no excuse.

“Shh, don’t make things hard for yourself. I know what you have wanted since that day~” she lightly bit your ear, eliciting a whine from you.

You expected her to make you wait more and continue teasing you, but she already began slipping her hand in your underwear and softly caressed your folds.

“My, so wet for me already? I haven’t even touched you properly, ma chèrie. Was it the massage that made you this way, hm?~

“N-No, not the massage....mmh~”

She pulled you a little closer to herself, now making you rest on her body completely. Her slender fingers made their way over your vulva, simply touching here and there with soft motions as if caressing a delicate flower. It reminded you of the way she used to tend to the datura in her balcony, careful and lovingly. Her thumb rubbed your clit in slow circles, not giving you too much pleasure at once in order to extend the time. Her index finger now made its way over to your hole, slipping in just the tip as if to test you.

“Look, how tight you are around here.... Already clenching me when I haven’t even gone deep~”

Your eyes lowered as if on command, looking at the way her slim and long finger touched you everywhere yet nowhere at once. It was exactly her way of doing things, be it business negotiations or simple conversations. She parted your folds with her index and ring finger then finally inserted her middle finger inside, producing a squelching sound as your walls accommodated her. Your head threw back with a moan on her shoulder as she went deeper, giving her the chance to lick up your neck in response.

“That’s it.... let’s ease this tightness, shall we?~” she whispered against your skin.

Her movements were slow and calculated as she took her time to explore you inside, the tip of her finger caressing every crevice of you. She gracefully traced your walls, teasing along the spots where you gave unique reactions, but not giving them any more attention than normal. You simply yielded to her deliberately slow touch submissively, taking deep breaths to hold your composure. Vautour intently noted your every reaction, her finger consistently exploring to find your most sensitive spots all the while edging you closer to release.

“Aaah.... Vautour.... C-Could you....” you tried to tell her to finally touch you more, to do it where you want it the most but were reluctant to beg.

“Hmm, what’s that, my little Chief? Care to repeat it?~” of course, she knew what you wanted, but she was intent on making you say it.

“C-Could you.... ngh.... move t-there....haaah~”

She smirked to herself and leaned near your face, pressing her cheek to yours.

“Could you be more specific? I’m afraid your directions aren’t clear right now~”

You bit your lower lip, desperately holding back from saying what she wanted to hear.

“You know I can bring you anywhere in the world, so why don’t you help us both and make it clear where you want me?~”

If her touch wasn’t already making you overwhelmed, her hushed voice flying so close to your ear would certainly do the trick. The combined effect of them was ethereal on you. Vautour expected you to give in long ago, but she was ready to play this dance with you for as long as you wanted. Perhaps she felt excited herself, to find someone keeping up with her.

“A-Ah.... fuck.... you know what I m-mean.... mmh~”

“Tsk tsk, such crude language doesn’t suit you, ma chèrie~”

She licked up your ear again then bit it with her lips, earning a startled whimper from you. Her left hand that was patiently holding you now started travelling up to your breasts, teasing your nipples through your bra. You held your lower lip in your teeth tighter, threatening to draw blood but she didn’t let you as she swiftly held your jaw and pulled it to the side to kiss you. Your eyes widened in surprise at the sensation of her soft, plump lips on yours.

“Oh? My, you just clenched me even tighter. Hehe, was the kiss so stimulating? I merely did it to save your delicate lips~”

You looked into each other’s eyes before lowering your gaze to her tempting heart-shaped lips, passion burned inside her with the urge to take you and she kissed you once again. A smoky taste travelled in your mouth before being replaced by a sweet, cherry-like flavour. Her tongue licked up your lower lip and easily parted it to enter your mouth, dancing your tongues together in slow and intimate movements. At the same time, she didn’t forget to stimulate your insides with her finger. You didn’t realize when she slipped in a second finger, easily pushing it through and touching more places.

You moaned into the kiss from the sudden sensation of 2 fingers inside you, almost feeling a little stuffed with how tight it became. Vautour parted her lips to let you breathe, knowing she was going to make you breathless soon. Her left hand went back to touching your breasts, now slipping past the bra and lightly gripping your nipple with her fingertips. She suddenly increased the pace of her fingers buried inside you, scissoring them to touch all your sensitive spots at once. You gasped louder, tilting your head back and eyes rolling to the ends.

“Is this where you wanted me? Are you finally ready to reveal yourself, little Chief?~”

“Y-Yes.... please.... more.... r-right there!~”

You ended up begging her despite trying hard to resist, but it was no point in being stubborn. Vautour had the patience to play this game for long, you were the one on the losing end. The softness of her fingers grazing your sensitive spot was tantalizing, and her fingertips pressing as deep as they could- burying to the hilt- was mind wrecking. Your mind became hazy as you edged closer to release, chasing that sweet pleasure with her.

“Hmm.... close, aren’t you? Do you really think I’ll let you off so easily?~”

“Hng...! T-Time is essential to a merchant.... aahn.... you have more m-matters to attend to after this.... don’t you.... mmh!~”

“Hehe, while you are correct in that, you have missed one important detail in this exchange....”

She paused and came near your ear to whisper in her low, hushed voice, “When it comes to you..... I have all the time in the world, ma chèrie~”

Her words caused you to become tighter, practically clenching her fingers in a vice grip and making it difficult for her to move. She chuckled at the way your body reacted to her, finding it enjoyable how easy to bend you were yet showed strong willpower.

“Oh, seems like you want to keep me here for longer as well. I don’t mind, we have all night to spend. I can assist you with your work tomorrow, dear Chief~”

“N-No.... aaah.... that’s not what I.... mmh.... m-meant~”

“Then you should clarify.... make me understand what you want~”

She moved her fingers awfully slow now, denying the pleasure you wanted. Your body arched off as you tried to seek friction, rutting your hips into her hand to make her touch where you wanted. Vautour’s eyes hooded at your desperation, her cruel façade breaking as she felt you didn’t deserve this reprieve.

“Helping yourselves now? You know it would be so much easier if you just give in and ask for my help~”

She was right, you couldn’t continue this for long. Your vision was becoming cloudier by the minute, heart racing faster at every bump of her fingers against your insides.

“P-Please.... Vautour.... touch me more.... I need you!~”

A victorious smirk adorned her lips seeing you finally accept it. She tilted your head back and pressed her lips to yours while beginning to thrust her fingers in and out at a consistent pace. You moaned into the kiss before letting go with a gasp and whining, coming closer to release.

“That’s it, little Chief.... Cum for me, show me how you come undone~”

She kissed your cheek and down your neck as you arched up, rutting along with her fingers and grazing all the right spots.

“Yes, ma chèrie.... you are close, aren’t you? Do it.... cum for me, make a mess on my fingers~”

She encouraged you further, feeling aroused from your state. She wanted to see the sight badly; watch you crumble in her hold. You body jerked up with a loud moan when you finally released, the knot in your stomach snapping. Your essence pooled around her fingers as she kept them inside for a while, relishing the warmth of your walls and essence. She finally pulled them out with a squelch, watching as it dripped down her fingers before gazing at your defeated state.

“How delightful.... You are truly one of a kind, little Chief~”

She praised before leaning down to kiss you gently. She pulled out the handkerchief in your pants’ pocket and wiped her hand while you sat up and composed yourself, buttoning up your pants and wearing your shirts.

“Thank you, that felt really good....” you said shyly with a blush.

Vautour leaned in and placed the used handkerchief in your shirt’s pocket then gently gripped your shoulder, her face merely inches away.

“If you truly want to thank me then.... return the favour someday, dear Chief~”

You blushed more but nodded, “I promise, any time you want....”

She softly smiled then pecked your lips and stood up, putting on her blue coat again and picking up her pipe then making her way out of your office. She turned to look back at you one last time when she reached the door and saw you looking at her as well, your eyes locked in. With a simple tilt of her head and wave of her pipe, she bid farewell to you.

“Keep in touch, little Chief~” were her parting words.

[qrrieterisunnq]

Please write a John Marino smut since I miss him so much… I hope he’s fine in Utah recovering, maybe like y/n playing a nurse for him to “recover”? It’d be hilarious if he takes an extra recovery time to spend his time with his girlfriend at home🥴

Personal Nurse - John Marino

MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut — WARNINGS: sex scenes, fluff — SUMMARY: John Marino, recovering from shoulder surgery, shares an intimate moment with his devoted girlfriend, Y/N, as they reconnect physically and emotionally after weeks of tension. Their love and passion reignite, blending tenderness and fiery desire, reminding them of their bond's strength. — WORD COUNT: 3,3K

Pain is all John felt for the past few months after his shoulder surgery. His shoulder was mostly on fire, but in the last few weeks, he’s feeling less pain and feels ready to hop on the ice and play like he’s used to.

But the team’s medical staff had other ideas. “One more week, Marino,” they kept saying, like a mantra designed to test his patience. He’d spent most of his recovery pacing around his house, stretching his arm in exaggerated circles, and muttering under his breath about “wasted time.”

That’s where Y/N came in. She had taken on the unofficial role of his live-in nurse—not that she minded, really. John could be grumpy and restless, but he was also endearingly stubborn. Besides, she enjoyed the rare opportunity to fuss over him.

“You’re not skating yet,” she reminded him one morning, setting a steaming mug of coffee on the table. “And don’t give me that look. You’re still supposed to take it easy.”

John groaned, leaning back against the couch with an exaggerated pout. “I feel fine, though. Better than fine.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? You feel so fine that you don’t need your pain meds anymore? Or the physical therapy sessions I have to drag you to?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “I mean… those are helpful. But come on, I’m bored out of my mind. If I don’t get back out there soon, I’m gonna lose my edge.”

“Your edge?” she teased, sitting beside him. “I thought the whole point was for you to rest and not wreck yourself again. Do you really want to deal with another six months of me bossing you around?”

John smirked, the corner of his mouth curling into that signature grin she knew too well. “I don’t know. I think I could get used to it. You’re a pretty cute nurse.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. “Flattery won’t get you back on the ice any faster. Besides, I think you’re enjoying this whole ‘recovery’ thing more than you let on.”

He leaned closer, his good arm sneaking around her waist. “Maybe I just like having you around. Ever think of that?”

“Nice try, Marino. You’re not charming your way out of another week off.” She poked his chest gently, laughing at his exaggerated wince.

“Fine,” he sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “But only if you promise to keep me company. I’ll take extra time off if it means more mornings like this.”

Y/N smiled, her resolve softening. “Deal. But you’re still doing your stretches. No slacking.”

John huffed dramatically, sinking back into the cushions as though the weight of the world—or at least, the weight of not skating—rested entirely on his shoulders. He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, the kind that usually melted her resolve.

“You’re ruthless, you know that?” he said, shaking his head with mock defeat. “I’m out here, helpless, recovering from major surgery, and you won’t even let me slack off for one day.”

“Helpless?” Y/N snorted, crossing her arms. “You’re like a toddler on a sugar high. The only thing helpless here is the state of this house if I leave you unsupervised.”

“Wow,” he said, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”

“Good.” She grinned, standing and reaching for his arm. “Now, come on, Mr. Helpless. Time for your stretches.”

John groaned again but allowed her to pull him up. She guided him to the open area in the living room, where she’d already laid out a mat for his routine. Despite his grumbling, she knew he secretly appreciated the attention.

As he moved through the motions—reluctantly at first but gradually loosening up—Y/N caught herself watching him. Even in his injured state, there was something magnetic about the way he carried himself, all lean strength and understated grace. It was a shame he couldn’t see how impressive he was, even off the ice.

“You staring at me?” John’s voice broke her train of thought, and she realized too late that she’d been caught.

“No,” she lied quickly, turning her attention to the clock. “I’m just making sure you’re doing it right. Don’t want you slacking.”

“Mmhmm.” He smirked, rolling his shoulder carefully before shooting her a playful glance. “Admit it. You’re impressed.”

“By you? Not likely,” she said, though the corners of her mouth betrayed a smile.

“Oh, come on,” he pressed, stepping closer. “I see that look in your eyes. You think I’m irresistible.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, standing in front of her now. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and his voice dropped just enough to send a shiver down her spine. “But you haven’t exactly been rushing out the door lately, have you?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, refusing to let him get the upper hand. “Maybe I just like bossing you around.”

His grin widened, and before she could react, he’d scooped her into his good arm, pulling her close despite her half-hearted protests.

“Well,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “if I’m stuck here, I guess I might as well make it worth your while.”

“John—your shoulder!” she squeaked, though her laughter betrayed her concern.

“It’s fine,” he murmured, leaning closer. “But thanks for caring, Nurse Y/N.”

Her heart raced as his lips brushed against hers, the world narrowing to just the two of them.

Y/N tried to push away, half-heartedly, but John held her firmly—just enough to make her heart skip a beat without straining his injured shoulder.

“John,” she muttered again, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Yeah?” he asked, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers, his grin widening.

“Your physical therapist is going to kill me if you hurt yourself because of… this,” she said, gesturing vaguely between them.

“I’ll tell them it was an accident,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from her face with his free hand. “Or maybe I’ll say my nurse was too good at her job. They’ll understand.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back her laughter, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” he said softly, his voice dipping into that husky tone that always made her melt.

Before she could reply, he closed the gap between them, kissing her gently at first, then with a little more intent. She let herself sink into it for a moment, her hands resting on his chest, before reality nudged her conscience.

“Okay, okay,” she said, pulling back, her cheeks flushed. “You’re supposed to be recovering, not… whatever this is.”

“Pretty sure this counts as therapy,” John argued, smirking. “Emotional support is important, right?”

“Uh-huh. And what happens when you overdo it and have to stay out another month? You’ll drive me insane.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, leaning in again, but she put a finger to his lips, stopping him.

“Yes,” she said firmly, though her smile softened the blow. “Now sit down before I have to explain to your coach why you’re still out.”

John sighed dramatically, dropping onto the couch like a petulant child. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to ruin my perfect recovery record.”

“Perfect, huh?” Y/N shot him a knowing look, grabbing a notebook from the table. “You mean the record where you complain through every stretch and refuse to follow half the instructions?”

“Hey, I’ve been improving!” he shot back, crossing his arms.

“Sure you have,” she said with a wink, flipping through the pages. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you. You’ve still got a long way to go, Mr. Marino.”

He watched her with a lopsided grin, his heart swelling despite the teasing. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready to hit the ice again, but with Y/N by his side, he was starting to think that recovery wasn’t so bad after all.

John followed her instructions as she showed him how to do the exercise to help him recover quickly. It was clear he’s absolutely annoyed by the fact he has to do this but he followed her instructions just to watch her round ass moves with so elegancy and delicacy.

“Stop staring at my ass Marino!” she sighs turning her head around to sed him a glare.

“I am not!” John raised his hands above his head, grinning like a small boy. “Or am I?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re supposed to be focusing on your form, not my… assets.”

John shrugged, the motion slightly restricted by his healing shoulder. “Can’t blame a guy for appreciating the view during such grueling recovery exercises.”

She turned fully now, hands on her hips, leveling him with a glare that only made his grin widen. “You’re impossible, Marino. Do you even want to get back on the ice?”

“Sure, I do,” he said, leaning lazily against the back of the couch. “But I’m starting to think this rehab routine has some hidden perks.” His eyes flicked pointedly downward, earning him a sharp smack on the shoulder—the good one, of course.

“Behave,” she said, though her cheeks flushed at the blatant way he was ogling her.

“Or what?” he challenged, his voice low and teasing.

“Or I’ll make you do an extra set of stretches,” she shot back, leaning in just enough to make her point. “No complaining, no shortcuts, and definitely no flirting.”

John raised an eyebrow, his grin shifting into something more devilish. “You think you’re the one in control here?”

“Obviously,” she replied with mock authority, folding her arms.

In a swift motion, John grabbed her wrist, tugging her down onto the mat beside him. She let out a surprised yelp as she landed unceremoniously, his good arm looping around her waist to keep her from escaping.

“Guess again,” he murmured, his breath warm against her neck.

“John,” she said, half-laughing, half-scolding. “You’re supposed to be-”

“Recovering, yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “But you didn’t say I couldn’t multitask.”

Y/N squirmed, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism, but the heat radiating from his body and the way his fingers traced lazy circles on her hip made it nearly impossible.

“You’re unbelievable,” she said, her voice breathier than she intended.

“And yet, here you are,” he whispered, turning her head gently with his hand so their eyes met.

Her resolve wavered for only a moment before his lips found hers, claiming them in a kiss that was all heat and urgency. Her protests melted like snow under the sun, her fingers instinctively threading through his hair as she gave in to the moment.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she murmured against his lips, earning a chuckle that rumbled low in his chest.

“And you’re lucky I’m injured,” he teased, pulling her closer, “or I’d really show you how grateful I am.”

Her laugh was soft, but her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned back just enough to smirk at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Marino. When you’re fully healed, I’ll ensure you work twice as hard.”

John groaned dramatically, but the way he kissed her again told her he didn’t mind one bit.

“Twice as hard, huh?” John murmured, his voice dipping into that dangerously smooth tone that always unraveled her. His good arm tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Guess I’ll need you to supervise… closely.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but whatever clever retort she’d planned was lost as his lips trailed down her jaw, grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. Her breath hitched, fingers curling into his shirt.

“John,” she managed, though it came out more as a whisper than a warning.

“Yeah?” he asked, his lips brushing the hollow of her throat.

“This isn’t—” She sucked in a sharp breath as his teeth grazed her collarbone, sending a shiver straight through her. “—part of the rehab plan.”

“Feels therapeutic to me,” he muttered against her skin, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to rest on the small of her back. “Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

Her silence was answer enough, and John smirked as he leaned back slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. “Thought so.”

She glared half-heartedly, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back without missing a beat. His hand slid higher, fingers splaying against her skin, his touch both firm and teasing. “Admit it, Y/N—you like me better when I’m a little bad.”

Her laugh was breathless, her resolve crumbling with every passing second. “You’re lucky you’re injured, Marino. Otherwise, you wouldn’t stand a chance against me.”

“Is that so?” His smirk deepened, and before she could react, he flipped their positions, pinning her gently beneath him. His weight was balanced perfectly to avoid straining his shoulder, but the dominance in his stance was undeniable.

“Careful,” she teased, her voice dropping to match his. “One wrong move and you’re stuck in rehab even longer.”

“Worth it,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly. He dipped his head, capturing her lips in a kiss that left no room for argument.

Her hands slid up his chest, tracing the lines of his toned muscles before curling around his neck. The heat between them was intoxicating, but they both missed each other.

“John,” she murmured as his lips moved to her ear, his teeth tugging lightly at the lobe.

“Mm?” he hummed, the vibration sending another wave of heat coursing through her.

“We’re supposed to be taking it slow,” she reminded him, though her voice was shaky.

He leaned back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes dark and full of promise. “Trust me, Y/N. I’ve been holding back. You don’t want me to take it slow.”

Her heart raced as his lips claimed hers again, his hand sliding up her thigh with a confidence that sent sparks shooting through her. For a moment, all thoughts of recovery and boundaries vanished, replaced by nothing but the heat between them.

John’s lips moved against hers with a passion that made her toes curl. His good hand roamed her body, fingers tracing the curve of her waist, pulling her closer until there wasn’t a sliver of space left between them. His kisses were hot and insistent, leaving her breathless and wanting more.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured against her lips, his voice deep and husky.

Y/N smirked, her nails dragging lightly down his chest. “Good. Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, his lips brushing over her jaw, trailing kisses down her neck. “You do that just by walking into a room.”

Her laugh dissolved into a soft gasp as his teeth grazed her skin, his tongue soothing the spot immediately after. He kissed lower, his hand slipping beneath her shirt to tease the bare skin of her back. She arched into his touch, her fingers sliding into his hair and pulling him closer.

“Off,” he muttered, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

She raised her arms, letting him pull it over her head and toss it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over her, drinking her in like she was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice almost reverent.

Her cheeks flushed under his gaze, but she didn’t have time to respond before his lips were on her again, searing and desperate. His hand slid up her back, unhooking her bra with practiced ease. She shivered as it fell away, his lips immediately descending to the newly exposed skin.

“John,” she gasped, her hands clutching his shoulders as his mouth closed around her nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

“Mm?” he hummed, his good hand sliding up her thigh, pushing her pants lower as he kissed his way across her chest to the other side.

“You’re so—” She broke off, a soft moan escaping her lips as his teeth grazed her skin, his hand squeezing her thigh.

“So what?” he teased, his breath warm against her skin as he leaned back just enough to slide her pants and underwear down in one smooth motion.

“So good at this,” she admitted, her cheeks burning as she met his gaze.

He grinned, his good hand tracing slow, deliberate circles on her inner thigh, getting closer to her core but never quite reaching it. “Oh, I’m just getting started, baby.”

Her breath hitched as his fingers finally slid between her legs, brushing over her most sensitive spot. He groaned softly, his eyes darkening even more as he felt how ready she was for him.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her again, his lips devouring hers as his fingers teased her with agonizing precision.

“John,” she whispered, her hips bucking slightly against his hand.

“What do you need, baby?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise as he kissed along her jawline.

“You,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need you.”

He didn’t make her wait. Carefully, he removed the last barrier between them, his sweatpants sliding off as he positioned himself above her. His eyes met hers, the intensity in his gaze making her heart race.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said softly, his lips brushing over hers.

She smiled, her hands cupping his face. “I’ll tell you if you’re not enough.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly, he pressed into her, his good hand gripping her hip as he moved with painstaking care. The feeling of him stretching and filling her sent a shiver through her entire body, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“God, Y/N,” he groaned, his forehead resting against hers. “You feel incredible.”

She couldn’t form words, her body arching into his as he began to move. Every thrust was deliberate, his pace slow and steady as he focused on her reactions. Her soft moans and whispered encouragement only spurred him on, his lips finding hers again as their bodies moved together.

Her hands roamed his back, her touch gentle yet urgent as she pulled him closer. “Faster,” she murmured, her voice breathless.

“Careful,” he teased, his lips brushing over her ear. “I don’t want to overdo it.”

“John,” she said, her tone carrying a hint of frustration that made him grin.

“Anything for you,” he murmured, his pace quickening slightly. The change sent a wave of pleasure through her, her back arching as she cried out his name.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice a low growl as he kissed her neck, his hand sliding down to grip her thigh and hitch it higher around his waist. “Let go for me, baby.”

Her nails dug into his back, her breaths coming faster as she neared the edge. His name fell from her lips like a prayer, her entire body trembling as the tension finally snapped. The release was overwhelming, waves of pleasure washing over her as he held her tightly, his own release following moments later.

They stayed like that for a while, their breaths mingling, their bodies still intertwined. Finally, John leaned back just enough to look at her, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“You, okay?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern and love.

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him gently. “I’m perfect.”

“Good,” he said, grinning as he settled beside her, pulling her into his arms. “Because I think that was the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”

She laughed, resting her head on his chest. “You’re still doing stretches tomorrow.”

“Fair trade,” he murmured, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her back. “As long as you’re there to supervise.”

[spinchip]

He keeps ending up in these situations- these soft, quiet moments with Zane where everything Lloyd wants to say is crowding behind his teeth before he swallows it all back down. He never felt bold enough to disturb the piece, or maybe he never felt sure-footed enough to navigate the conversation. The land around the topic of the Never Realm was still littered with landmines and sinkholes. Zane didn't talk to them about it.

They're stargazing. Lloyd was out here first basking in the rare alone time. He'd turned Kai away two hours ago when he'd come to check on him, but when Zane stood over him and blotted out the stars with a weak smile- Lloyd invited him to stay, and promised himself he wouldn't shelve this conversation for another day.

He's look at Ursa Major when he says it, "I'm Afraid you'll never be okay again."

There's a soft pause.

"I am okay, Lloyd." Zane reassures him in a voice that is so much more monotone than before the Never Realm, "Therapy has been extremely rewarding. I feel like myself again."

He sits up, propping himself up on arms that don’t tremble, “You’re not yourself, though.” He feels like he has to force the words out from behind the lump in his throat, “You don’t cook, or meditate, or bird watch anymore-” He stops to center himself, “...I’m scared you’ll never go back to normal.”

Zane is the quiet one this time.

Lloyd lies back down, feeling worse than before. They watch the stars trek across the sky.

“I believe this is the new normal, Lloyd.” He says very, very quietly.

Immediately Lloyd sits up again, twisting to face Zane, “How can you say that? Two months ago you were acting totally fine! Yeah, when you came back from the Never Realm you spent a whole month alone in your room... but then you were Zane again, and now- now you’re…”

“Different.” Zane finishes, “I have changed.”

“Yeah.” Lloyd turn forward, staring down in his lap.

No one says anything. Lloyd feels like he's royally blowing this conversation and making everything worse.

“...When I first returned from the Never Realm, I was... in a dark place. It was easier to hide and sort through things on my own, But I… had not dealt with it as well as I could have. After I spent that time alone and I returned to the team, once more joining with the group socially, I was still a mess. I did not know who I was, and I did not feel like anyone- not Zane, and not the emperor. So I looked in my memory banks and pretended.”

Lloyd looks back at Zane, who’s eyes are fixed resolutely on the moon and not Lloyd's reaction. “You… what?”

“I did not want to worry you. My theory was that If i acted like I was okay, I would be. I hoped I could figure it all out before anyone realized I was wearing a mask, that I could fix myself to the point where I could stop pretending.” He links his hands together on top of his stomach, “Then Cyrus Borg put me in touch with his therapist." Two times a week, every Monday and Thursday. Lloyd knew that. "She helped me realize that this act I was putting on was not a positive move for me and my recovery. It is not that I have regressed, Lloyd- i have simply stopped pretending to be who I used to be.”

“You were trying to protect us?”

There’s another pause, “It was partly selfish, too. I was… afraid. I was scared that if you and the others realized just how much I had changed, you would not see me the same. That the love you had for me would not be able to adapt to who I have become.”

“I- of course we would love you! Always!” Lloyd insisted immediately, “It’s not- I didn’t mean- I was just worried. I’m sorry.” He feels shame curdle in his gut at his earlier words, unintentionally picking at Zane's insecurity.

“I understand your feelings, Lloyd. You do not need to apologize,” He smiles softly at him and its not the same smile Lloyd is so used to, but it has its own warmth, “Change is not… a bad thing. The circumstances leading to this were, but this is what healing looks like for me at this point. I am figuring out who I am again- I do not bird watch or cook or meditate, no, but I think you’ll be surprised at how good my knitting has gotten.” He offers Lloyd another tiny smile, “I am finding my happiness again.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Zane's soft blue eyes flicker back up to the stars and his smile turns gentle, “You are always helping, even if you do not realize it. All of you are.”

[theotherbuckley]

Im in love with this fic and i need more

🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵

You're an amazing writer btw 🩷🪱

Thank you! I'm glad people are liking this fic 🥰

Here's 900 more words just for you <3

🦵 - Buck and Tommy meet at physio after the truck bombing

Tommy isn’t there at his next physio appointment — now only seeing his physiotherapist once every two weeks, unlike Buck who still has to see her every week. The session feels slower than normal; it always does when he’s alone. Bobby promised him that next time he would be able to come with, but today, there’s no one, not even Tommy, to chat with afterwards. 

Dr Mistry seems to sense his subdued mood and has taken to being far more cheerful than he can ever recall.

“Why are you so happy?” he asks, slumping down into his chair after she had given his leg a deep and rather unpleasant massage. 

Dr Mistry turns to him, shooting him a look which he doesn’t care to decipher. “You are quiet. It’s unsettling.”

Buck opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again, staring at his doctor. “Hey, I don’t talk that much.”

“You haven’t even complained one time.”

And okay, that’s fair, but still. 

“I’m just tired,” Buck tells her. It’s not even a lie. He is tired. He’s always tired. He’s just a little spacey today. He’s been feeling quite defeated lately. Sometimes, it feels like all of his hard work is for nothing. His leg still aches like bitch whenever the weather changes, and he only just managed to complete the full length of the bar unaided last session, far behind where he should have been at this point. He’s trying so hard to get better, to work again, but it doesn’t matter how much effort he puts in, it’s never enough. He’s never enough. 

And when there’s nobody with him to tell his brain to shut up, he gets stuck inside his head, and he doesn’t quite know how to get out of it. 

It’s exhausting. 

So he’s tired. He really, really is. 

It’s just a type of tiredness that he doesn’t think he can recover from. Not until his leg is recovered, at least. 

Dr Mistry looks at him for a moment, her eyes scanning over his face, hyperanalysing his expressions as though she can see right down into his soul, see all of those helpless thoughts running around in his head. “There’s doctors for that,” she says, and Buck doesn’t have to ask what she means. 

“I don’t need therapy,” Buck says back, a little too defensively. He’s probably lying, but he doesn’t want to see anyone. He’s fine. He will be. It just takes time, isn’t that what everyone keeps saying?

“It’s not healthy to keep everything stuck inside. Sometimes it is good to let it all out,” she continues, ignoring his slight outburst. 

“I have people. It’s just— It’s hard when they’re not around.”

She nods in understanding but hands him a card anyway. “Just think about it.”

He takes the card begrudgingly and sticks it in his wallet, where he knows he’s not going to touch it again. He doesn’t need help. He just needs to be able to walk— to work. He’ll be fine after that. 

As soon as he gets home, he takes the card out of his wallet and stares at it. 

And then he texts Tommy. 

Buck: Have you ever seen a therapist?

Tommy: Hi Tommy how are you

I’m great thank you for asking

Buck: Yeah yeah

Answer the question

Tommy: I have

Buck: And? 

My doctor wants me to see one

But I don’t want to

Especially not after last time

I’m not that guy anymore

Tommy: Not what guy?

Buck: Not the guy who sleeps with his therapist

Tommy: I’m not sure if I should ask

Buck: Probably best

So..?

Tommy: Therapy helped me

I wasn’t a great guy before

Buck almost scoffs at his phone. Tommy the guy who drove him home and helped him up multiple flights of stairs, whilst injured, on their first meeting, wasn’t a good guy?

Buck: You? Be honest

Tommy: I wasn’t

Turns out repressing my sexuality and listening to what my father taught me is not a good combination

Hurt a lot of people because of it

But therapy helped

I’m comfortable being myself now

Buck has to pause at that. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with it, he just didn’t really expect it. Maybe that’s not a good thing to say. He’s an ally, actually. The rainbow flag in his bio every June proves that. 

Buck: Wait

You’re gay?

Tommy: I am, yeah. Is that a problem?

Buck: No of course not! Men are hot.

Tommy: Mmhmm  

Buck: So you think I should do it?

Tommy: Do what?

Buck: See a therapist

Tommy: I don’t know, Evan

That’s up to you

But if your doctor suggested it, maybe you should listen

Buck: And I don’t need to sleep with them?

Tommy: You definitely do not.

Even after the conversation, Buck can’t bring himself to dial the number on the card. His stomach rumbles after a while, and Buck looks at his watch, mildly surprised to find it past 3 pm. He drops the card on the coffee table, and hobbles to the kitchen with his cane to make himself some food. 

When he sits back down, his mind is focused on queer history, and he finds himself googling pride and forgetting all about therapy. It wasn’t like he needed it anyway.

[lipglossanon]

Turbo Lover

∘₊✧───────────✧₊∘

masseuse!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

for the anon request who asked for masseuse Leon; I hope you enjoy it and thanks for your patience! 💜

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, fingering

not proofread ✍️

Title from Turbo Lover by Judas Priest

∘₊✧───────────✧₊∘

“Sarah swears by this place, so relax and enjoy yourself!”

You sigh, drumming your fingers on your steering wheel. After parking in front of a fairly ritzy massage parlor, you’ve been talking to you friend on speaker phone for fifteen minutes as she convinces you to actually go inside.

“I don’t know…”

“Please, you need to go get a massage; work has been stressful like crazy for you so do it. I’m telling you as your bestie.”

You laugh, “Okay, okay. I’ll go in and see what they have to offer.”

“See? It can’t hurt in looking.”

“I know. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Text me!”

And with that the resounding beep signals you’re sitting alone with your thoughts in the car. Sighing, you grab your bag and get out of the car. The front’s pretty minimalistic which seemed on brand for massage therapy you thought. 

Walking inside, there’s the generic calming music playing over the speakers with potted plants dotted all around. It smells wonderful though, like some sort of airy floral scent that you just can’t place. You make your way to the front desk and smile at the lady behind the counter. 

“Hi,” she smiles at you, “my name’s Sandy, how may I help you today?”

“Hi, I uh don’t have an appointment or anything but I was wondering if you had any openings?”

“Let me check,” she turns her attention to the computer to the side and quickly types, “looks like I have an opening with Claire in ten minutes if that’s okay?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect!” she shines another smile your way, “just fill out this paper for me stating your consent and if you have any allergies we should know in regard to the oils and lotions we use. You can also ask for a chaperone at any time if you feel uncomfortable being alone.”

“Thanks,” you return her smile, a little more at ease. 

You quickly fill out the empty spaces and hand the paper back to Sandy. 

“Great, just please have a seat and Claire will lead you back shortly. Would you like a water or anything while you wait?”

“Oh uh no but thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.”

You sit down on the nearest chair and pull out your phone to kill the time. Bringing up the ebook you’ve been reading, you easily lose track of the time. 

“I’m so sorry, ma’am!”

Your attention is pulled up to a blue eyed, handsome man standing between the desk and you, looking sheepish and apologetic. 

“Pardon?”

“Claire was called away on a family emergency, so I’m her replacement. If you’d like you can reschedule to be with her.”

You feel like a fish out of water so you just shrug, “I mean I’m fine with it if that’s okay? If I need to, I can reschedule—“

“No that’s fine,” he smiles relieved, “I just know sometimes people get upset if they come for one of us specifically and don’t get them.”

“Oh,” you place your phone in your bag and stand, “well I’m fine honestly, this is my first time here actually.”

“Really?” the smile he gives you is nearly blinding, “I’ll make sure to make it a great experience.”

“The name’s Leon, by the way,” he turns and leads you down a hallway off to the side. 

You feel a little warm as Leon walks in front of you. Since you didn’t give it much thought, you really didn’t realize you could have such a hot guy giving you a massage. His biceps stretch his sleeves while his broad shoulders and back strain against the shirt fabric. Your eyes drag from his sandy hair down to his tight ass. Praying for good luck, you just hope you don’t embarrass yourself in front of him.

Leon pulls open a door near the end of the hall and gestures for you to enter.  He follows you inside and points out where you can sit your bag and shoes. 

“I can step out if you want to take off your shirt and pants then lay down face first on the table; but, if that’s uncomfortable for you, it’s 100% fine to stay fully dressed and we can get started.”

You glance over at the massage table and then around the pretty spacious room taking in the counter full of oils, lotions, heating stones, and towels. 

You turn back to Leon to find him watching you, his face soft and earnest. 

“I think I’ll get undressed.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Okay,” he nods, “you can just set your clothes on the chair next to the table if you’d like. Then once you lay down you can pull that towel up and over your body.”

He steps out of the room and firmly closes the door. You pause for a moment and once you’re sure the door’s completely shut, you undress and lay your clothes off to the side. Climbing up onto the table, you lay flat like he suggested and lay the towel over you.

A few minutes pass and then Leon knocks on the door, cracking it open so he can ask, “Is it okay for me to come in?”

“You’re good.”

He steps in smiling brightly again. 

“Great, since you booked Claire, she usually does the 60 minute full body massage, is there anywhere you don’t want touched or injuries I should know about?”

You shake your head, “Nope.”

“Alright,” he steps out of your line of sight and you can hear him shuffling through items. 

“Just let me know if you get too hot, cold, thirsty, or just uncomfortable and I’ll do whatever I can to accommodate.”

“Thank you, Leon,” you murmur.

“Of course,” his voice is warm like his hands when they come down on your shoulders, slick with some scented oil that smells like coconut. 

He asks you simple questions as he works: what you do for work, favorite places to eat in the city, any fun hobbies in your downtime, etc. 

He pulls you into easy conversation and has lulled you into state of complete relaxation by the time he’s finished. 

He curses under his breath and you hum questioningly. 

He sounds a little embarrassed, “Well, I got carried away and lost track of time. But I swear you won’t get charged extra.”

“S’okay,” you laugh, feeling gooey and comfortable, “definitely worth it. Best I’ve felt in ages. I hope I didn’t cut into your other client’s time.”

“Oh no, I was headed home for the day when Claire asked me to cover.”

“If I would’ve known that I would’ve rescheduled,” your tone turns pouty, “Leon, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, smoothing his palms down your back, “this was really enjoyable. Most people come in and completely ignore my attempts at conversation.”

“No way,” you’re affronted on his behalf.

His hands glide down your sides making you sigh, “Yep, just not interested I guess. But you were wonderful.”

You’re glowing from the inside at his words, always a sucker for praise. 

“No, you were wonderful,” you finally get out, “I was kinda nervous. But you got a repeat customer.”

He laughs delightedly, “What a bonus.”

You giggle and squirm as his fingers dig into your lower back, “Well I can get ready and take off.”

He digs his thumbs in right above your tailbone making your hips arch up as you moan. 

Feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed, you tug on the towel, “Oh god, I’m so sorry,  I didn’t mean to—“

Leon laughs, “Don’t apologize, it happens more than you think.”

“Oh,” the embarrassment still makes you feel like folding in on yourself, wishing you were anywhere but here. 

“Besides,” he presses you flat down onto the table again, hands quickly returning to where they were, “sounded pretty good to me.”

His thumbs repeat the action, digging into the tender spot of your lower back making you keen and rock up. 

“There we go,” he coos, “just relax, I got you.”

His hands drag down to your inner thighs, massaging the muscles. 

“Leon,” you whimper making him groan. 

“I got you honey,” his thumbs glide up from your inner thighs up to your panty covered pussy, stroking your slit through the damp material. 

“Think you need an extra special service for being so goddamn sweet,” he murmurs. 

He stops to grab the band of your panties, “Is this okay?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, brain already mush and he hasn’t really done much. 

He quickly pulls your panties off, tossing them over to your clothes. Pushing the towel up until it’s pooled on your lower back, he caresses your bare skin softly. He pushes your thighs open wider. 

“Fuck, pretty little pussy, need to lick her open, see if she’s as sweet as you.”

He pulls you down closer to the edge of the table, so he can get between your legs easier. He spreads open your cunt and spits on your hole. 

You keen at the feeling and he does it again. 

“Ready?”

“Please, Leon.”

Without any other preamble, Leon buries his face into your pussy with a groan. His tongue laps up the spit to thrust it into your drippy hole. He hums and drags his mouth over to your clit, suckling the sensitive bud until you’re squirming. 

He pulls away and twists your hips, “Fuck, baby, turn over for me.”

You quickly comply, spreading your thighs again but he folds your legs and pushes them up as he goes back down on you. 

“Oh god,” you wrap your arms around your thighs to hold yourself open for him. 

He shows his appreciation for that by sliding two fingers into your wet, fluttering walls searching for your g-spot. With a sharp whine, you rock down into his hand once he finds it. 

His eyes crinkle with a smile but it’s hard to tell when he’s tonguing up into your hole along with his fingers. He pulls away and spits on your clit making your hips jump up. 

“Fucking sex on legs, coming in here all sweet,” he growls as he goes back to sucking and kissing on your swollen clit, “like I haven’t been wanting to taste this hot cunt inches from my fucking hands.” 

“Fuck, Leon,” you mewl, eyes fluttering as he rubs against the spongy spot at the front of your pussy over and over and over. 

“Want you to cum all over my mouth,” he lashes his tongue against you clit before sliding it across your pussy lips, “get me soaked.”

He sucks your pussy lips into his mouth then moves to nipping at your thigh before drifting back to your sensitive clit. 

“Fattest fucking pussy,” he groans, sucking your hard bud into his mouth making you cry out, hands shakily letting go of your legs to tangle in his hair. 

“Oh ‘m so close, gonna cum,” you whimper, rocking down into him, holding his head against your pussy. 

He groans, eyes flicking up to yours as he fingers you harder and faster, mouth never letting up as he sucks and licks over your clit. 

“Oh, oh, oh, fuck,” your thighs tense and try to close around his shoulders as your back bows, pussy gushing slick as he lets you ride out your orgasm on his fingers and face. 

You know you must be pulling his hair too hard, but you can’t stop humping against his mouth as he extends your climax with his fingers on your g-spot. Slick is coating his face and jaw when he finally pulls away, your orgasm ebbing into pleasant aftershocks. 

You laugh feeling high on endorphins, “That was amazing.” 

“Oh,” you raise up on your elbows, “what about—“

You waves you off with a grin, “What do you think I was doing with my other hand?”

You bite your lip as he stands, spent cock bobbing as he cleans off with a nearby towel. A pulse of want blazes through you. 

“Next time, honey,” he laughs seeing your glazed expression and tucks himself away. 

“Think of this as an appetizer,” he winks, helping you up and redressing yourself. 

“I’ll definitely be back,” you laugh, kissing his cheek as he holds the door open for you. 

“I hope so.”

He gives you a short wave when you make it to the end of the hallway. There’s a new lady behind the desk, Carolyn, and she’s more than happy to book you in for Leon’s next available appointment. 

[kookieskookiejar]

Alpha! Jeongguk x Omega! Reader

This is a part two of Don't Blame Me, but can be read as a standalone as well :))

Synopsis:

It's been two years since you've moved in with Jeongguk, and since then, the global tour your dance academy was on has since ended long ago, allowing you to have more time to spend with your boyfriend. However, Jeongguk still feels like the two of you have been going around in circles in terms of where your relationship is at. Should Jeongguk make a move to ask you about it? Or is he just being worried for no reason and should just let the relationship grow at its own pace?

Warnings: unprotected s*x, upcoming rut mating, marking, knotting, bre*ding k*nk, really fluffy.

A/N: sorry this took soooo long, mental health has not been looking good lately so...yeah, I hope you guys like this!

Everyday Jeongguk wakes up feeling like the luckiest man in the universe, he can’t believe it’s been two years since you’ve moved in with him.

Your job hasn’t gotten any less busy, and Jeongguk respects that, he’s gotten busier lately too, and recently he just wrapped up a long term project, and now they’re out to celebrate with his friends, and that consists of you, his sister, Jihyo, his Namjoon hyung, and his girlfriend of two years now, yes, the resident third wheeler of the friend group is finally dating, Jihyo’s still doesn’t want to settle down yet, and that’s perfectly fine, in Jeongguk’s opinion, she needs some growing up to do before she sends someone to therapy.

To put things in perspective, he feels like everyone around him, other than his sister, have started the next chapter of their lives, okay maybe that’s a stretch, he’s just feeling a bit stagnant with you after hearing Namjoon talk about how he and his girlfriend are planning on getting a matching couple tattoo after sealing their mating mark.

Is it considered quick to seal the mating mark after two years? Maybe, but they are planning to get married next year, so it wasn’t a hasty decision, Jihyo even chastised them for making the decision only after two years, to which she deemed, too impulsive, so maybe two years is seen as hasty in this time and age, but that doesn’t make Jeongguk feel all that much better about the pace between you and him, not that he’d ever voice that out, he knows you want to take things slowly, you’ve always been a build the foundation type of person.

However, you and Jeongguk have been dating for four years now, and you haven’t brought up about the mating marks before, you did talk about it briefly, but it wasn’t even a serious conversation, although you sounded very much sincere.

So now Jeongguk’s sulking in the pub where all his friends are laughing about something they’re reading on Jihyo’s phone, absently, a pout is on his lips, and his hyung notices it immediately, snapping Jeongguk’s attention away from staring at the rustic decor of the pub.

“Hey, you’re tired, aren’t you? You haven’t been talking all that much tonight,” Namjoon points out, his brows furrowed, he’s always seen Jeongguk as his little brother, brothers from a different mother.

“Nah, I’m okay, I was just spacing out,” Jeongguk dismisses, finishing his drink.

“We can leave if you want,” you say, immediately, preparing to get up from your seat, grabbing your purse.

“Yah, he said he’s gonna buy us drinks with his bonus, don’t you try skimming out on us,” Jihyo complains, arms crossed.

“He’s tired, Jihyo ah, I’ll buy you drinks next time okay,” you promise with that sweet voice you use to get things out of both the siblings, something that Jeongguk can never say no to, to which his sister sighs, nodding begrudgingly.

“Be grateful she loves you, can’t believe my brother stole my best friend,” she says, obviously joking, and Jeongguk nods absentmindedly, letting you lead him out of the pub.

Jeongguk heads home to sleep off the fatigue, but it was probably due to his bad mood and the alcohol that made him sleepy.

When Jeongguk woke up the next morning, he was feeling hot, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary to him, it is summer after all, but what had him questioning was the fact that you were cooking breakfast in the kitchen instead of going for your morning run with Jihyo.

Jeongguk clambers out of bed, messy hair and everything, hurrying to wash up, eager to have your cooking as breakfast.

“Hey. you’re up earlier than expected,” you joke when Jeongguk wraps his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck, lips almost slobbering near where your mating mark should be.

“It’s 9.30, of course I’m up,” Jeongguk says with a whiny voice, you just love to tease him, says that he sounds and looks cute when you do, so he indulges you.

“I don’t know, I thought you’d be more tired when you’re near your rut.”

Jeongguk freezes up at your comment, he was so busy that he hadn’t even noticed his scent had some minor changes over time, and he doused himself in cologne last night, craving for the scent of fresh laundry over his natural scent, so that’s probably why his friends hadn’t noticed.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I know you’d tell me to sleepover at Jihyo’s,” you say, turning around to run your hands over Jeongguk’s arms comfortingly, the act so sweet, but it instantly has Jeongguk hard.

“But, we, what if I accidentally mark you? What if your heat gets triggered? Then we’d have to-

“Hey, I’m ready, and I’m ready to have our mating marks now, I think it’s time, if you think you’re ready,” you reassured, you know he’s wanted this for quite some time now, but you were nervous, it isn’t an easy decision, choosing to be connected to someone in the closest way possible.

“But you’ll go into heat a bit later, don’t you have any performances lined up?” Jeongguk asked, eyes darting to every corner of your face to make sure you weren’t doing this out of obligation.

“I called out of work once I realised you were going into rut, and I’m really ready, Jeongguk, unless you’re not,” you look at him quizzically, but both of you know there’s no malice behind your tone, and the slight bossiness of your tone is certainly waking him up in more ways than one.

“How long till the brownies are done?” Jeongguk asked with a fluttering heart, he loves your brownies, and making it for breakfast is weird, but you love how weird he is, and you actively indulge in his quirkiness.

“About 20 minutes, think you could make me cum before they’re done?” you ask with a challenging tone, quickly taking off your apron.

“You bet,” Jeongguk says before he wraps his arms around your thighs, carrying you back to the bedroom where he emerged from not too long ago.

Jeongguk throws you on the bed lightly, getting a giggle out of you at the bounciness of the bed.

“Let’s see if you’ll be laughing in a bit, baby,” Jeongguk teases before he captures your lips with his, his lips still taste minty fresh from brushing his teeth.

Jeongguk breaks off the kiss to take off his shirt, his abs looking like they’re sculpted by greek gods under the morning rays.

Jeongguk manhandles you onto his thighs, he’s not a horny teenage alpha who can’t control his urges, but he just enjoys the process of having your cute butt grinding on his clothed cock.

You got the message quickly, rotating your hips in circular motions, arousal dampening Jeongguk’s sweatpants once his length starts to grow under your ministrations, getting turned on by the fact that you’re the only one with this sort of power over him.

“I need you fuck me, Jeongguk, 20 minutes, remember?” you remind him after having caught a whiff of the scent of chocolate mixing with your scents.

“Yeah, sure, baby,” Jeongguk promises, tugging your shirt up to reveal your bare breasts, your nipples pebbling up from the cool air of your shared bedroom, the AC still lingering in the air after you turned it off before leaving the room, catching the attention of your boyfriend, who quickly envelopes the closest nipple he could get to, sucking diligently, his other hand occupying your other boob, twisting, sucking, and licking, your back arching off into his hold, his free hand’s fingers dipping into the curve of your back, he tightens his hold on you before he ceases all actions.

“Present yourself, baby,” Jeongguk says, his voice dropping into a lower octave, his eyes flashing red, he’s not using his alpha voice, Jeongguk would rather chop off his dick than force you into having sex with him, he just knows you get your panties drenched whenever you hear his ‘sexy voice’, as you often call it, which is why you’re quick to get into position, hands and knees on the bed with your ass perched high for Jeongguk’s taking.

Jeongguk mutters curses under his breath at the sight of you, your pretty pussy shining with arousal that flows down to your smooth thighs, Jeongguk is definitely a lucky man.

When he starts dipping his fingers into your core, you whine.

“Just put it in, Guk, I’m ready,” you complain with a whine as you wiggle your butt enticingly, and it worked like magic, his hands smacking one of your cheeks, that recoil is going to kill him.

Then you feel it, the blunt tip finally breaching your walls, if your heat hasn’t started, it definitely has, with the way you get wetter with every inch Jeongguk feeds you, your omega accommodating to your alpha naturally.

When Jeongguk finally sinks his entire length into you, your toes curl at the feeling of being full.

“Can I move, baby?” Jeongguk asks, he knows the two of you are in a time crunch, but he’d rather let his favourite dessert burn than hurt you in any way.

“Yeah you can move,” you say breathlessly, Jeongguk steals your breath away at any situation, whether it’s because he’s fresh out of the shower, dressed up for a date, or merely cooking, he looks flawless executing what he does, especially in bed.

Jeongguk starts off with shallow thrusts, biting on his lower lip at the way your walls hug him right back deeper at every movement.

When Jeongguk feels your walls finally accommodating his size, he increases the pace of his thrusts, groaning when he feels you clenching onto his length when he finally hits that sweet spot that has you whining and body coursing in pleasurable ecstasy, your back arching into his touch, the sight of your round ass catching his attention, smacking your ass, hands grasping for a bit before he lets go, choosing to make his way to your pretty little clit.

Jeongguk knows you’re close, it’s written in the way you’re gripping him in an almost death grip.

“Cum for me, baby, need you to drench this cock so I can pop my knot inside you, fill you up with pups,” Jeongguk says with a groan by your ear before he feels his knot swelling, the added girth pushes you over the edge, your body spasming as you feel your breath being knocked out of you.

Soon after, Jeongguk’s knot starts to deflate, gushes of cum spilling into your womb, and that feeling kick starts this carnal need inside you.

“Need you to mark me, Guk, I’m ready, ready to be your mate,” you confess, still clenching onto him.

Jeongguk halts his movements, but the jerk of his cock gives him away.

“Please, your omega needs you,” you plead, stretching your neck to reveal the tempting expanse of your neck.

“Baby, we should talk about this-

“No, please, I’ve thought about this for a long time now, I’m ready,” you reassured.

“O-okay,” Jeongguk finally agrees, his alpha growling in agreement.

Jeongguk continues on with shallow thrusts while he rubs your clit in quick circles when he finally bites down on your neck, sealing the two of you together, and you would’ve never imagined this feeling.

The feeling of a weight lifted off, your omega that used to feel so restless, now being a part of you and your alpha.

Jeongguk quickly laps up the wound, easing the healing process before he pulls you sideways, wrapping his arms around your figure.

You curl up next to him seamlessly, sighing in contentment.

“When we’re done eating the brownies and your heat strikes again, you have to promise to give me my mating mark too,” Jeongguk says with a slight whine to his voice, the alpha image dissolving right before your eyes.

You weren’t surprised he asked for his own mating mark, the last time you guys discussed about mating marks, he had insisted on you marking him.

“I promise, now hurry up and deflate your knot or my brownies are really going to burn,” you say with a huff.

“Hush, there’s still 9 minutes left, we can just waddle to the oven together,” Jeongguk teases, which earns him a playful slap on his butt that’s conveniently within reach.

You definitely won’t regret being Jeongguk’s mate.

[fruitcoops]

In the Beginning

Going back to my roots this year with some pre-Coops PT fluff :) This is definitely going to turn into a short series (with exceptions for Leo's birthday, of course) and I'm really excited about it! Hoping for some more time to create this spring <3 Character credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW canon injury (Sirius' ankle)

“Sirius.” Despite the whiteboard with his name scrawled next to 11:00, Remus still managed to sound pleasantly surprised. “Hi, how are you?”

“Fine.”

God, he sounded like an asshole. Remus’ smile didn’t falter. “Glad to hear it. Come on in, take a seat wherever.”

Was this it? The first test? Sirius glanced between the chair by Remus’ desk and the exam table. Hell, maybe he was supposed to sit on the stool. Was he? Was that a ‘Remus spot’ everyone else was smart enough to not even consider?

He picked the chair. Lowered himself gingerly to the cushioned seat, crutches propped on the armrest next to him. A spot on his ankle itched under the Velcro of his stiff boot.

“Thanks for making the time today,” Remus continued, as if Sirius had been any sort of friendly or welcoming. “I really appreciate it. This’ll be quick and easy—just a check-in, figuring out what’s going on and where we want to be. Sound okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Sick.” Remus dug around behind his desk for a moment; Sirius could hear papers riffling. Remus’ brow furrowed for a second before relaxing with satisfaction as he pulled a sheet free. “Alright. Sirius Black, meet your new best friend.”

Sirius blinked. “You?”

“Ha! No, I think Pots still has me beat,” Remus laughed, sliding a clipboard across the desk. He pulled his own chair around as well, even though Sirius could see him fold his knees out of the way of the desk. It couldn’t be comfortable. “I don’t like sitting back there when you guys are in here,” Remus said, as if he could read Sirius’ mind. The side of his nose scrunched. “Feels…bossy? I dunno. Can’t really write upside-down, either.”

“Ah. Ouais.”

“But that’s—” Remus waved a vague hand and picked a pen from the broken-handled mug tucked by his computer. “It’s not important. This, on the other hand, is your two-week chart. Decorate it, marry it, I don’t care. As long as you know it’s yours and can find it in that—” He pointed to a wire bin by the door. “—box. Capische?”

Sirius shrugged one shoulder and readjusted his ankle under the table. “Sure.”

“Shweet. There are some forms under the top sheet, if you can fill those out for me real quick.”

Remus stood as Sirius bent his head to write; he puttered in Sirius’ periphery, collecting tape and bandages and a handful of other things from the drawers lining the walls before moving to the exam table behind him. Something spritzed, filling the air with the faint scent of lemon. When he glanced back, Remus was wiping down the exam table with a washcloth.

The table. Of course. He should’ve known. “Do you want me to move?”

“You can if you like.” A lopsided smile found him over Remus’ shoulder. “I’m just cleaning, though. Take your time.”

Feels like I’m taking nothing but time, he thought with no small amount of bitterness. At least Remus meant well. Arthur kept telling him he could have all the recovery time he needed, but Sirius could tell he was getting impatient. He hadn’t even been allowed to think about physical therapy before the six-week mark was up. On some teams, that was long enough to justify rumors of a trade.

Ink smeared under the side of his hand. Sirius cursed under his breath and licked his thumb to smudge it off, but only succeeded in blurring it more. He gave up and scribbled it out, leaving the check mark next to the box instead. Remus’ handwriting was at the top of the page. Sirius Black, printed with a gentle slant to the right. Numbers looped, their tails snagging into one another. Sirius had never met someone who wrote their ‘2’s that way.

“Done?”

He jumped.

“Ope, sorry,” Remus half-laughed as he rolled behind his desk again. The wheels of his chair squeaked. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Sirius shook his head. “You’re fine. And ouais, here.”

“Thanks.” Remus flipped through the clipboard with easy neutrality. Sirius had expected him to take this a little more…well, seriously. “Looks good. Like I said before, today is just getting the boring stuff out of the way. Forms, building your exercise plan, making sure you don’t run screaming from the room.”

Sirius frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Hopefully, you won’t.” Remus gave him a look—a joke, he realized a second too late.

“Oh—yes, no, not at all.” Great recovery. It took everything he had not to roll his eyes at himself.

Again, Remus seemed unaffected by his awkwardness. Did he just not see it? Did he think Sirius was playing along? But Remus was always like that, with every one of them. Unflappable and infallible. The world was smooth and calm for him, like a lake on a windless day in the dead of summer. He was wearing a shirt of the same blue-gray as the pond in the park by Sirius’ house.

“How’s your ankle feeling today?”

Get out of your head. “It’s…fine.”

The side of Remus’ mouth pulled up. “Gotta give me something to work with here, Cap.”

“A little sore?”

The light caught his sandy hair as he tipped his head back and forth. “Sore how?”

“Just…” Sirius shrugged. “Sore. Like normal.”

“Stabby? Dull? Lightning-y? Can you feel your heartbeat in it?”

“Um.” The cool air of the PT room siphoned into the small gaps of his boot when he wiggled his toes. “Mostly dull. Sharper when I take the cast off.”

Remus nodded. “You haven’t been putting weight on it?”

“Non.”

“Good. That sounds about right for this point of recovery. Is it an ‘all the time’ kind of pain, or just when you do certain things?”

This was a lot more talking than Sirius had anticipated. He had assumed Remus would sit him on the exam table, poke around, and then send him off with some ice packs and stretches. More time, he said when Sirius had imagined it. You just have to give it another week or two, and you’ll be fine. A hopeful part of him figured they’d let him back on the ice as soon as the bone was healed.

“It’s sore a lot,” Sirius admitted. “The dull kind. It gets worse when I move around, I guess.”

“Even with crutches?”

“Ouais.”

“Do you sleep with it on?”

“…my crutches?”

“The boot,” Remus snorted, though it wasn’t mean. He was rocking slightly in his chair, back and forth. Sirius could see the armrests turn with each light push of his foot behind the desk. The tense thing in his belly eased. If Remus was this casual, maybe he was allowed to take some deeper breaths.

“They gave me a different one for the night,” he said. “It’s softer.”

“Are you more of a back sleeper, side sleeper…?” Remus trailed off, gaze darting across Sirius’ face, and gave a sheepish grin. “That sounds super invasive, wow, sorry. I promise I’m just trying to figure out if you’re sleeping on it weird.”

Sirius tried to school his expression. He didn’t want to know what face he had been making at Remus’ question—they knew each other well enough to not fix him with a media glare. “Uh, my back,” he answered. “Usually. The doctors said to put it up on a pillow until it healed.”

“Cool, cool, sounds good.” Remus nodded again, then drummed his hands on his thighs. “Alright. Those are all the questions I have. Any on your end? Concerns, preferences…?”

How fast can you get me out there? Something told him Remus wouldn’t have an answer he’d like. “No, I’m good.”

Remus had a dimple on his left cheek. It made a divot with his small smile. “Great. Ready to hop on the table so I can take a look?”

It took a moment for Sirius to get to his feet; he reached for his crutches, only to find Remus already holding them steady for him. He hobble-hopped the five or so feet from the desk to the exam table; six and a half weeks in, and the crutches still did their best to stymie him at every turn. Horrible fucking things. His underarms were rubbed raw after fifteen minutes. Clunky and awkward and—

“Hold on.”

Sirius paused.

Remus was frowning at his leg. “Those don’t look right.”

“Quoi?”

“You’re…what, six-three?”

“About.”

“Sit, sit.” Remus ushered him to the edge of the table, but took the crutches as soon as Sirius perched himself on the cushions. He pressed a small button near the base; aluminum squeaked as the foot shortened by a few notches. “That’s better,” Remus muttered, almost to himself. “These pads are all worn out, too. Did they give you towels?”

What the fuck? “Uh, no?”

A disgruntled exhale made Remus’ nostrils flare. He leaned the crutches against the wall with a similarly irritated tilt to his mouth. “Remind me to give you some before you go, or the tops are going to wear the hell out of your armpits. I reset the height, too. They were two inches too tall.”

“Oh,” Sirius said helpfully.

“It’s not, like, a huge deal or anything, but it’s uncomfortable.” Remus cocked his head. He regarding Sirius with a critical, but not harsh, eye. “Has your back been hurting?”

Sirius shifted in his seat. “…yes.”

“That’s probably from the height issue.” Remus’ nose twitched with clear displeasure. A pen turned between his fingers, glimmering in the pale light. Sirius hadn’t noticed the bandaid on his knuckle before. The pen stilled with a sigh, then vanished into Remus’ pocket. “Sorry, I just—Moody and I have been trying to get the guys to come in here sooner, because of shit like this. Crutches at the wrong height, no towels, not knowing you’re allowed to wash braces. You’re already uncomfortable, you know? No need to make it worse.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, god, it’s not your fault,” Remus said immediately, pumping hand sanitizer into his palm. “Just sucks that we have to ask permission. It’s not like we’re going to do anything stupid while bones are still healing.”

Sirius swung his legs up on the table while Remus rolled a stool across the speckled linoleum; his ankle twinged, but he managed to keep his wince light.

It was no use. “What was that?”

“Hmm?”

“Face.” Remus pointed at him, arching a brow. “You’re in my rink now, bud. You made a face. You can either lie about it, or get out of here on time.”

Perhaps Sirius had been a bit overconfident in how well he could hide pain. “Just sore when I lift it.”

“Where?”

“Uh. My ankle.”

“Right, I—” Remus broke off with a short laugh. “Sorry. Is there pain in other places when you lift it?”

He let Remus wave him further onto the table before answering. “I can feel it in my calf and foot. A little into my knee.”

The plastic was sticky from cleaning solution, but the cushions were perfectly firm on his lower back. He let his head rest back against the wall with a slow breath and wiggled his toes again. It was nice, being able to do that without lancing pain. Remus tapped his thumb against the edge of the table a few times before moving to stand by Sirius’ feet. “Can I take your shoe off, or do you want to?”

“Oh. Um…” He sat up further, but his fingers just barely brushed the hem of his pants. With a grind of his back teeth and a quick flash of pain, he bent his opposite knee and pulled the shoelace free. His ankle began throbbing faintly as he nudged the shoe off—sock too, thanks—and a puff of air slipped out when he finally leaned back.

Remus was watching him with a sad sort of wariness. “Can I make a request?”

You could ask me to do literally anything. “Yeah, sure.”

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

If he didn’t look so sympathetic, Sirius would have bristled. “What?”

“That—” Remus gestured at him. “Looked painful as fuck. This is an anti-pain establishment. If you think something’s going to hurt, we’ll work around it. No judgement.”

The thing was, Sirius hadn’t actually done this before. He knew where the ice packs were kept, and that the big steel container in the corner held heat pads in boiling water. He knew where the support bandages were, where Remus kept extra stick tape, and that the set of small drawers next to the desk would each be labeled with the name of a teammate so they could find specific gear. Remus had given him stretches for his sore back and arms and legs and whatever, but this—the shoes, the touching, the gentleness—there was no rulebook. No captain’s log to rattle through when he needed guidance.

“Okay,” he finally said. “That’s cool.”

“Cool.” Remus gave him that half-smile again. “Can I take your boot off?”

“Ouais.”

Remus was a lot nicer to the Velcro than he was. The rip was quieter than Sirius thought it could be, peeled off by practiced hands. He felt the pressure on his skin release immediately and took a breath at the tender feeling. Not pain, but something close. It made his heart spike every time. “Hurting?”

“Non.”

“You sure?”

“Just—makes me nervous.”

“Makes sense,” Remus agreed. “You’ve had it all wrapped up. Feels safer in there, right?”

Right. Exactly right. Something tightened in the center of his chest. “Yeah,” he said. “Something like that.”

Remus nodded. “Is it okay if I take it the rest of the way off? I can do most of the exam like this if that’s better.”

“You’re asking me a lot of questions.” He tried to sound wry. He wasn’t sure it came out that way.

“Lot of people don’t like touching,” Remus answered easily. He hadn’t moved to touch the boot again, hands flat to the maroon plastic covering the table. “I’d rather you tell me to step off now than make something hurt more.” He gave Sirius an apologetic sort of grin. “Plus, you’re probably sick of people grabbing at you. Don’t really want to be one of them.”

Sirius was sick of it. Hands and fingers and grasping through slivers in plexiglass while he was trying to move, goddamnit, when he just wanted to go back down the tunnel and finally be able to catch his breath. People grabbing him on the ice, pushing. Snape’s body against his own—a shoulder in his sternum. Fingers digging into his skin. A tight grip on the back of his neck.

“You can take it off.”

Remus had a crooked canine tooth. Had he noticed that before? “Thanks.”

Sirius’ fists clenched at the touch of warm hands on his heel and calf. It was…fucking strange, but not painful. Not unpleasant, either. Remus had calluses in the bends of his knuckles and on his palm when he carefully transferred Sirius’ foot to one hand and set the boot up by his hip.

“I’m sweaty,” he blurted. “Sorry.”

Embarrassment flooded him before Remus laughed. “Dude, you have no idea how nasty your boys are when they roll up here. Did you know I had to send a reminder to shower before seeing me? And to wear clean clothes?”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “Ugh.”

“They don’t cut their toenails, either.” Remus’ eyes flicked up to his face, bright and teasing. “I’m not telling you who, but if you can throw a little captain-y weight around…”

“I’ll try.” It almost came out a laugh. Surprise tingled in his lungs. “But seriously, you don’t need me. They listen to you like gospel.”

“Oh, please.”

“They do,” he insisted. Remus rolled his eyes. “Non, non, I’m serious—”

“Yes, I know.”

“—fuck off—you could tell them to brush their teeth four times a day and they’d be at it. They listen to you more than me.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Remus informed him. “And I also think you’re healing really well.”

“I—what?” Sirius looked down; his ankle was back on the cushion, cradled lightly between Remus’ palms. It jolted something in him. Had his skin always been that pale? He could see the line where the boot ended halfway up his calf. His foot looked ghostly in the light and everything else looked…thin. Skin and muscle, even bone.

He propped himself up on the heels of his hands. The angry, puckered scar from surgery had faded to a narrow line. When had that happened? Surely not overnight. It had looked so ugly in the shower yesterday, which was exactly why he tended to avoid looking at it. He glanced up at Remus’ patient face. Was he grossed out? That wasn’t how Sirius’ ankle was supposed to look. The knobbly bones on either side were practically gray in comparison; they stuck out, as if someone had stuck two marbles under his skin. His stomach turned.

“Sirius?”

He hummed.

“You okay?”

The joking tone had gone from Remus’ voice. The pit of Sirius’ stomach was heavy. His ankle looked weak; his calf, skinny all the way to the weird lump of his knee. “Mhm.”

“We can be done.” Slight movement caught his attention as Remus ducked to catch his eye. There was the solemnity he had expected. It was odd to see it now. “Any time. Just say the word.”

“The exam?”

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do.” Firmness had never sounded so kind. “These first steps are visual, anyway.”

Am I done? Sirius looked back at his foot, the strangeness of it, the sickly mirror of his healthy one. “Keep going.”

“Are you—”

“I’m okay.” He mustered a deep breath. “I’m good. Keep going.”

“Okay,” Remus said quietly.

They sat in relative silence, but it wasn’t bad. Sirius was glad for a break. It was easier to watch Remus work than hold a conversation. The tenderness faded somewhat under the gentle touches of Remus’ fingertips—a tap here and there, faint pressure in the soft spots. Murmurs of feeling alright? and tell me if this hurts filled the buzzing static in Sirius’ ears.

“Ow.”

“Here?” Remus’ first two fingers hovered at the arch of his foot. Sirius nodded. “Cool, thanks. Your swelling isn’t too bad. I think I’m going to hold off on big exercises until Monday, okay?”

Disappointment, bitter and tacky as molasses. “Yeah.” He couldn’t keep the sigh out of his voice.

“We’ll get there.” When he remained silent, Remus poked the peak of his kneecap. “Hey. We’ll get there, I promise. I want you to work on the rest of your flexibility this week. Keep the boot on, but stretch out your legs and back. Your other muscles have been compensating for this and I don’t want anything to get strained.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to get you back on the ice.” Sirius could hear the but in his voice before he even finished speaking. “But I won’t rush through this and throw you out there just to get hurt again.”

Hurt again. Pain, cold and consuming, flashed in his memory. “Okay.”

“If anyone gives you shit, I want you to throw me under the bus, alright?” The last strap of Velcro fell into place. Remus was even careful with that part. The pressure on his skin was familiar and welcome. He felt a light pat to the table. “Tell them it’s all my fault. That I’m being overcautious and mean and keeping you here, whatever. If the coaches have a problem with your care, they can talk to me and Moody about it. Not you.”

“Okay.”

Remus let him get up unhindered. That was nice. Sirius was pretty sure he’d lose his mind at one more helping hand. He waddled back to the desk chair at an incline of Remus’ chin and was once again relegated to watching while Remus taped some small, folded towels to the tops of his crutches before joining him by the desk.

“You did great.”

Wasn’t that a thing to imagine. Could barely get my shoe off, but alright. “Merci.”

“It’s hard to get people to come in here and actually want to get better.” Remus scribbled a few things on the chart. His forehead crinkled in the middle with concentration. “Lotta guys think they’re fine as soon as the doctors’ visits end. But this is the part that’ll make a difference in the long run.”

The chart slid across the table, followed by a smaller, far more sparkly sheet. A smile pulled at Sirius’ mouth in spite of himself. “Gold stars?”

“Very serious stamps of completion, actually.” The corners of Remus’ mouth were tight with restrained amusement. He couldn’t keep the laughter out of his eyes. “You can pick a different theme if you want. Talkie’s got Lisa Frank, which was kind of a power move.”

Sirius snorted—it was over from there. It took a minute for them to collect themselves, and as much as he hated to admit it, he did feel better after peeling a star from the sheet and sticking it in the first box. “Regarde,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Success.”

“Perfect.” Laughter still lingered in Remus’ voice. It was a nice sound. It was nicer when he looked up and smiled, like Sirius had put one of those heating pads right in the valley of his ribs. “Alright, well, that’s all I need. We can do the same time tomorrow, or you can check out the schedule. We technically have office hours, but you can shoot me a text if we need to find a different one. Number’s on the board. Make sure you give your name in the first message.”

“Okay.” Those ‘2’s again, in green marker this time. That weird feeling in his chest was softening. “Yeah, okay. I think tomorrow works for me.”

“Awesome, see you then.”

“Awesome.” Why can’t I talk? Sirius stood and took his crutches back with a slight stumble. He hoped it passed off as broken-ankle unsteadiness, not—whatever else was going on. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when the tops didn’t immediately begin to chafe his inner arms. “Oh, wow, thanks. This is great.”

“Yeah?” He could hear Remus’ smile before he even turned. He looked pleased, fiddling with the edge of Sirius’ chart. “I’m glad. Sucks to not have what you need, and not even know it.”

“Lucky we’ve got you then, eh?”

Remus’ cheeks flushed. It was rather warm in the room. “Nah. I’m the lucky one. Best job in the world.”

“Got you beat, there.”

Another laugh made Sirius’ chest squeeze pleasantly. It was good to see Remus happy, with all he did for them. “Guess you do,” Remus admitted, then shooed at him with the chart. “Get outta here, your boys are waiting. And check the box by the door for this when you come in tomorrow, got it?”

“Très bien, Loops.”

Maybe it was the adjustments to his crutches, or the promise of something like progress on the horizon, but Sirius didn’t feel quite so awful as he made his way down the hall. He almost felt good, actually. Almost hopeful.

[hippolotamus]

another installment of what I'm calling the cleopatra series. this time from Eddie's POV because I got in my Buddie feels. part 1 here 💙

late for the love of my life | 7x06 Coda | 912 words | G

“Hey, how was it?” Marisol wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a peck on the lips. 

Eddie barely suppresses the urge to flinch and turn away. Which is maybe a tad dramatic, except for the way it isn’t. Because the past 24 hours have held more than a few revelations. None of which Eddie is ready to share. 

Despite the layers of clothing between them, his skin tingles and crawls where she touches him. If he didn’t have years of experience being exposed to fluids, substances and people he didn’t want anywhere near him, he thinks he would have wrenched away from her by now. No, he definitely would have. But he’s a professional at hiding his personal reactions, both on and off the job. 

Yes, he’s made progress in therapy, but the instincts to hide himself, to put up walls and masks, are still easily activated. Handy for moments like now, when he can’t escape his girlfriend. Or when he has to smile big for the crowd and pretend the perpetual feelings for his best friend don’t exist when said best friend barrels back into the room all lovestruck and covered in soot from his boyfriend. 

“It was good. Really nice, actually.” That much is true. Because it was. Honestly, the whole hospital room chic was perfectly Maddie and Chim. 

“Nice?” She asks in a teasing tone, squeezing tighter and clinging to his torso like a koala. 

His breathing is acceptably even but the urge to peel her off, to tell her that she should probably go home because his heart rate is skyrocketing, his fingers and toes are tingling, and he’s beginning to feel claustrophobic is anything but. His built in panic mode suspects there isn’t enough Jell-o in the universe to undo this. Again, dramatic, but he thinks he’s within his rights to think so right now. 

“Yeah, I-” He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezes his eyes shut and inhales as deeply as he can manage. “Y’know, I’m, uh, still feeling a little worse for wear from last night. I should-” He doesn’t even finish the sentence, just points vaguely in the direction of his bedroom. 

Marisol’s relaxed ‘welcome home’ look turns concerned as she furrows her brow and holds the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay? I should probably stay over in case you need–” 

“Really,” he interjects, backing out of her hold, “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off, I think. You should go. Home. To your place.” Smooth, Diaz. “I mean, because I’ll probably be restless, y’know?”

“I can sleep on the cou-”

“No,” he says more forcefully than intended. He should be grateful she wants to stay and take care of him. He should. He is. But not the couch. Not… Buck’s bed. His place. Their place.

“Oh.” She takes a step back and he should probably feel worse about the way she looks so dejected. “I, um, I understand. Talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah, talk tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow when I’ve had a chance to reset. When the twin alcohol and love hangovers have hopefully, finally died off. When I’m not seeing an endless mental projection reel of reminders like Or, y’know, you could have mine. Then why are you in hospital jail? Stay with me, Buck. Him choking on blood. You saved him. Abby. His fiancee is Abby. Showoff. My blood on him. Hey, Buck. You think you’re expendable. They’re all dead. I, uh, misunderstood the assignment. Three minutes and seventeen seconds. She sees me. It was a date. 

The front door clicks in the latch and he immediately turns the deadbolt, noting how his pulse drops to a debatably more normal range. He wants to settle on the couch, under the covers in his bed, both and neither all at the same time. In the end he migrates to the kitchen, which really shouldn’t surprise him. 

He runs his fingers over the backs of the chairs, circling around until he’s standing between the table and main counter. Am I one of the things that makes you sad? So now am I allowed to ask how you are? But you do eventually - you process it? 

Eddie turns toward the fridge, drawn to Shannon’s photo. He plucks it from under the magnet, running his thumb over the glossy print. 

“Can never quite get my timing down, can I?” He huffs out a wet chuckle. “God, I wish you were here right now. I could really use someone to talk to.” 

If it wasn’t after midnight he would probably drive himself to the cemetery to sit on the stone bench. To talk to someone that can’t talk back but would nonetheless tell him what an idiot he is. To unfairly water her grave with tears shed because he always thinks he has more time. You might have noticed I almost died. Again. And then I thought, this is it. This is the last day of my life. We’re all going to die alone. That’s what she said to me and Hen. 

Truthfully he’s not sure who he’s thinking of more — Shannon or Buck — as he slides to the floor, still clutching her picture, beginning to sob and shake as the words I love you so much flash like a neon reminder of his poor timing. Does it really matter? Because either way he’s missed his chance. 

But I guess it’s your mess now. 

Part 3 (Buck's POV)

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Recovery

Words: 796

@wolfstarmicrofic

***

TW - mentions of former alcoholism/addiction and being in recovery

***

The wedding had gone off without a hitch. Even Lily’s family seemed to be happy, which for them was nothing short of a miracle. The day had been beautiful, they’d all cried at some point and by the time they sent James and Lily off to their honeymoon suite, almost everyone was ready to call it a night.

“Fancy a walk?” Remus asked, as the last of the wedding guests stumbled upstairs. “I’m not tired yet.” Sirius nodded and they took a side door out of the hotel and followed the path down to the lake. Remus walked ahead and sat at the end of the rickety jetty, Sirius following a moment later.

“I know this is quite possibly the worst time to bring this up,” Sirius started.

“But you’re going to anyway?”

“But I’m going to anyway.” He nodded, “I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for how things ended with us. I was an absolute monster towards the end and you tried so hard to help me and, yeah, I’m just really sorry, and thank you for trying so hard.”

Remus said nothing for a while, the two of them watched wildlife create ripples on the surface of the lake, and marvelled at the reflection of the moon.

“Lily said you’re sober now.”

“Six years and four months, yesterday.” He smiled.

“Wow, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you.” Remus squeezed Sirius’ thigh affectionately out of habit, then froze. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Sirius was glad that it was dark, he knew he was blushing. “It took about two weeks before I realised you weren’t coming back and then, bam, rock bottom.”

“I’m so—”

“Don’t be. I needed the wake up call. If you’d stayed much longer I’d have destroyed us both.” Sirius looked down at the water. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” Remus said slowly. “It sounds like you’re doing really well.”

“There are good and bad days, like anything. Therapy helped a lot.” Sirius shrugged, “Another thing you were right about.”

“I feel like saying ‘I told you so’ is in bad taste.” Remus chanced a look at him and smiled.

“Nah, I deserve at least one, I reckon.” Sirius smiled back at him, taking in the way the moonlight picked out the beginnings of grey near his temples, and made his eyes seem to glow. He willed himself to look away for the sake of his self control.

“Well then. I told you so.” Remus said softly, looking out at the lake.

“Turns out I’d repressed a lot of stuff from being a kid and apparently that’s not good if you want to be a healthy adult. Yes, yes. I know you told me that too.” Remus bit his lip as he grinned and even just seeing the side of it made Sirius want. “I needed to lose you to get myself better, but it’s also the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much where I’ve been at with it.” Remus leant back on his elbows and looked up at the sky. “I was… miserable. For a long time. But I don’t think I’d be who I am now without that time in my life, you know?”

Sirius mirrored Remus’ movement and stared up at the stars. “Did you find someone?”

“To love?” Sirius nodded, “Nah. I looked for a while, had a few dates here and there, but nobody really interested me. It’s just me and my cat Peaches. What about you?”

“After I got out of self destruction mode, I didn’t date for a couple of years. I was with this guy Ed for a year or so but that fizzled, and it’s just been me for a few years now. I debated getting a cat, but it’s hard work taking care of myself, let alone another living thing.”

“It sounds stupid, but getting a cat made me look after myself more.” Remus chuckles and Sirius feels the sound in his chest. “Like I had someone else to be accountable to for the first time in ages and it made me want to do better.”

“Weirdly, I totally get what you mean.” He paused, “It’s hard to want to do things for yourself sometimes, right?”

“Exactly.” Remus nodded, “She makes sure I’m awake by 7 and making her breakfast by quarter past.”

“Still not a morning person?” Sirius knocked his shoulder into Remus’ gently.

“No,” he knocked Sirius back and laughed, “I go back to bed after feeding her way too often. She tries.” Before he could talk himself out of it, he gently rested his head on Sirius’ shoulder. “Is this ok?”

“Yeah,” Sirius’ voice was barely audible as he leant his cheek on Remus’ hair. “This is ok.”

[darth-jess]

Hi. Thanks for giving all of us pro-Jedi folk a reason to block you by entering our tag with a take that is not favorable to the Jedi.

Look. My own dislike of Anakin has *nothing* to do with the Jedi and his role in the Jedi and *everything* to do with how much he reminds me of my mom who did nothing to get over her trauma. And do you know what I’ve found has helped me with the trauma of my own childhood? Jedi teachings. Quite similar to therapy techniques.

He was given opportunities to tell them that his dreams felt real and he was genuinely worried about his mom. They were far more patient with him than others might have been.

By revenge of the Sith he was an adult who should be capable of communicating his wants and needs.

And the thing is, the Jedi as they were had been successful for millennia. They’re not going to change for one person and they would have happily let him leave.

Don’t forget that Count Dooku was still respected as a former Jedi at the start of Attack of the Clones until they had proof of what he was doing. Anakin could have walked away. He wanted to have everything he wanted and it just wasn’t possible.

I’m not gonna see any response ‘cause I’m blocking you immediately. I like vibing with my faves and jot getting into arguments, which is why the Pro-Jedi tag should stay free of people like you.

Hi Anon! Clearly you won't see this message, as you've mentioned you're blocking me. However, I wrote this post –> To The Anti-Anakin/Pro-Jedi Crowd as part of a 3 part post and this is only the second post in it.

If you would have waited (practiced some Jedi patience, maybe?) until tomorrow to block me, you would've seen my post titled, To the Anti-Jedi/Pro-Anakin Crowd, in which I defend the Jedi.

Because personally, I love both Anakin and the Jedi, and I think both are flawed and both are beautiful.

Both deserve a defense.

Sorry that Anakin reminds you of your mom, that's really rough. Jedi teachings have actually always been very helpful for me as well, as I have chronic anxiety and also suffer from trauma. I go so far as to literally tell people my religion is "Jedi" so I get that.

But my point is, we really should be able to admit that the things we love can be flawed, and that's fine. I am someone who likes to be critical of the things I love, and that often makes me love what I love even more.

As far as Anakin's communication skills go… look. Obi-Wan doesn't exactly make him feel good about opening up. Obi-Wan is basically the person who raised him, and Obi-Wan isn't that great at communicating, either. So it's not like Anakin really had a good example.

As far as the Jedi being successful go… yes, they had been successful for millennia, but this success was part of their arrogance that lead to their downfall. They had lived without the Sith for a thousand years, and they had remained unchanged for so long they did not know how to adapt to a world where the Sith were trying to regain power. The fact that the Jedi were unable to change and were too set in their ways was part of what destroyed them– Sidious knew this weakness and exploited it.

About Anakin walking away… absolutely. He could have walked away at any point. Nobody was forcing him to stay there! But, as I'm going to explain in my post tomorrow, Anakin loved being a Jedi. But he also loved Padmé. And yes, he wanted both.

I feel bad that my previous post offended/upset you, but I really wouldn't call that post anti-Jedi because I am not anti-Jedi at all. My point of all of these is you don't have to be pro-Jedi and anti-Anakin or vice versa. You can love both at the same time.

Clearly, you dislike Anakin for very different reasons than a lot of other people, and if Anakin isn't a character you like, that's fine. But a lot of people dislike Anakin simply BECAUSE they are pro-Jedi, and all I'm saying is that it isn't mutually exclusive!

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Zhihn moya -Oneshot

**I’m pulling some inspiration from a previous short story/long oneshot I wrote before.  Hope you like it!** *zhihn moya: my life Word count: 4471

Y/N first met Bucky after he’d returned to the States to join the Avengers.  He’d been rehabilitated in Wakanda, officially freed from the Winter Soldier programming.  The trigger words no longer worked.  Overall he was fine, but sometimes he wasn’t.

The nightmares never ceased, they were just…quieter now.  And sometimes he would lose track of where he was, who he was with, and have bouts of memory lapses, like he was on autopilot.  It didn’t really affect his work with the Avengers, but after a mission where he’d gone too far in capturing a bad guy, almost killing him, Sam knew he needed more help than the government-assigned therapist with a bad attitude could give.

With Fury’s help they had found a woman who had been found during an old Hydra base raid.  Y/N Y/L/N was born with the ability to read and manipulate thoughts and feelings in others, had been found by Hydra and then experimented on to see how far they could push or use her abilities.  The experiments had made her abilities stronger, and once she was found she had been rehabilitated and gone through years of therapy.  Fury figured that with a shared past with Hydra, she would be helpful in not only understanding and relating to Bucky, but her abilities could help ground him back to reality.

Bucky was hesitant when he first met her.  “I don’t need another person in my head,” he said gruffly.

“She won’t be in your head, Barnes, just helping you snap out of these lapses you’ve been having,” Fury said.  

“That’s not the point,” Bucky sighed.  He looked at Y/N.  “I’m sure you’re great.  But nobody needs to see what’s going on in my mind.”

“She was taken by Hydra, too, Buck,” Sam interjected.  “She knows what it’s like to be–”

“I can speak for myself,” Y/N said loudly.  They all looked at her in surprise.  “If you don’t want my help then I’ll leave.  I won’t waste my time fighting someone who doesn’t want or think they need me.”

“No, wait, please,” Sam said, raising his hands and then turning to Bucky.  “Can you just try meeting with her once?  For my peace of mind?  Please?”

Bucky stared at Sam for a moment, then sighed heavily and closed his eyes.  “Fine,” he said, then looked at her sharply.  “You won’t like what you see.”

“I’ve seen a lot, Sergeant Barnes,” Y/N said, her chin rising in challenge at him.  “You won’t surprise me.”

Bucky huffed a bitter laugh at her.  “You say that now.”

A week later they were in the room she was given to stay at the compound.  Y/N was sitting criss-cross on a large, comfortable chair across from Bucky who sat on a long couch.  He looked her over, analyzing and scrutinizing.  She was pretty, her curvy body reminding him of the old pin-ups that were actually curvy from his army days, not the ones the other men usually liked, even while she was covered by a comfortable sweater and sweatpant outfit.  They stared at each other for a moment, silently daring one another to speak first.  She analyzed him back, her head tilting as she watched him.  “You’re feeling a lot of things right now,” she said quietly.

“Get out of my head,” Bucky snarled.

“I’m not in your head,” Y/N sneered back.  “Feelings are just loud.”

He frowned.  “What does that mean?”

Y/N settled back into her chair, leaning her head on her hand propped up on the arm rest.  “Reading minds takes effort and focus for me.  Always has, even after Hydra experimented on me.  But feelings, emotions, they’re like…” She paused, frowning as her eyes searched the room in thought.  “Vibes, literally vibrating off people’s bodies.”

“Okay, then what am I feeling?” Bucky asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Anxiety,” Y/N replied easily.  “Worry.  Fear.  Curiosity.  Sadness.  Anger.  And…missing someone,” she said, her face softening.

Bucky’s lips tightened.  “They said you could manipulate emotions, too.”  She nodded.  “Why would you do that?” he asked.  “How would that help me?”

Y/N smirked.  “It would be easier for me to show you than tell you.”

Bucky immediately tensed.  “What are you going to do?”

Y/N sighed.  “Relax, Bucky, it’s nothing crazy or painful.  All I need to do is touch you.  Do I have your permission to touch you?”

Bucky scrutinized her, watching her face carefully for signs of trickery or lies.  “Touch me where?”  

“Preferably your chest, just over your heart,” Y/N said, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward in her chair.  “But anywhere works.”

Bucky’s anxiety spiked.  He was much more open to touching people now, but was hesitant over what she was capable of.  He nodded and she stood up, walking over to him, then surprised him by kneeling down in front of him between his legs.  His eyes widened at how close she was, his jaw ticking as he swallowed harshly, trying to keep his panic at bay.  “Relax, Bucky,” Y/N said, her voice sounding much more soft and caring than earlier.  “I won’t read your mind.  All I’m going to do is put my hand on your chest.  You don’t need to do anything but relax.  Okay?”

Bucky tried to steady his breathing, nodding as his hands clenched on top of his knees.  Y/N gave him a reassuring smile, then slowly lifted her left hand toward his chest.  He watched her, his eyes flicking from her face to her hand repeatedly.  When her palm settled over his heart he tensed again.  “I won’t hurt you,” Y/N whispered.  His eyes focused back on her face.  Her eyes were kind, soft, and she was looking at him like she could see right through him, being able to read him without even trying.  Sam and Fury had said she had been used by Hydra, just like him, that she understood.  He blinked rapidly and nodded again.

Her hand pressed into his chest a little more firmly, and after a moment of silence Bucky felt a strange sensation.  He looked down and saw her palm glowing, and he gasped as he felt a warmth spread where her hand laid on his chest.  It felt like honey, oozing through his skin slowly and then seeping into his veins, firing synapses along its path.  It enveloped him, almost tingling when it reached the top of his head.  Bucky sighed heavily, his head hanging down, his hands unclenching.  The worry, fear, anger, all the things she had said he was feeling all slipped away from his mind and his heart, the anxiety being replaced by the warmth.  It felt like…peace.  Calm.  It felt like the first time he’d been able to relax after overcoming the Winter Soldier programming.  Like the times he and Steve had been laughing at baseball games.  It felt like she was injecting him with the opposite of all the emotions he felt before.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but after a little while the feeling began to recede just as slowly as it had come.  When the warmth returned to under her palm and the glow fizzled out it was like he woke up, his eyes snapping open and seeing her again.  Y/N was crying, and it took him a second to realize he was crying, too.  He also didn’t realize that his metal hand was holding her hand to his chest still.  “I’m so sorry for all that they put you through,” she whispered, her hand turning over in his metal one and holding it against his chest.  “So much pain.  You didn’t deserve that.  But I need you to hear me when I say this, okay?”  Bucky absentmindedly nodded as she stood up on her knees to be at eye level with him.  “No human being could have withstood all you have,” she said quietly, her free hand moving up and wiping away his tears.  “You are stronger than you know, Bucky, in mind, body and spirit.  I can feel it,” she tapped her fingers against his chest.  “Your mind will be in a state of healing for the rest of your life.  But your friends, your chosen family, will always be there to pick up where your mind leaves off.  And I…I will be there for you, if you let me.”

Bucky stared at her in amazement.  He sniffed and swallowed harshly, nodding at her hopefully.  Maybe she would be able to help pull him out of his head when he got lost on missions.  She smiled at him, and he had a feeling that she would very quickly become his favorite person.

***

“Miss Y/L/N, an urgent call incoming for you from Sam Wilson,” Friday’s voice chimed overhead.

Y/N frowned and looked up at the ceiling.  “Answer,” she instructed, and listened as the phone line opened up to frantic breathing.  “Sam?” she called out.

“Y/N!  Thank god,” Sam panted.  “Something’s wrong with Buck.”

Her eyes widened.  “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” he said, sounding like he was exhausted.  “We were almost done and then he just…shut down.  He looks like,” he paused, and she could hear him audibly gulp.  “He looks like the Winter Soldier.”

She gasped.  “Has he done anything?”

“No, he’s just standing there, with that staring problem,” he said.  “So far he’s done as we asked, but if anyone gets close to him he reacts defensively.  Forcefully pushing us away.  It’s like he’s waiting for something.”

“Are you almost here?” Y/N asked, getting up and pacing her room as she thought through a plan of action.

“10 minutes away,” he replied.

“Okay.  When you land, let him get off first, and follow him to see where he goes.  Then we can figure out what to do next based on what it is his subconscious mind is directing him to do,” she said firmly.

“Okay,” Sam said, sounding appreciative that at least somebody had an idea of what to do.  “We’ll see you soon.”

“Good luck,” Y/N said.  She tried to calm herself.  Panicking would do nothing to help fix the situation.  They had come a long way over the past year since she’d come to the compound to help Bucky with his mind issues.  But every once in a while there was a hiccup like today.  They would all have to tread carefully to find the best way to help him through this episode.  He would be kicked off missions again for a while, she thought, which he would love and hate at the same time.

Ten minutes later she got a text from Sam.

Just landed.  He’s on the move.

She waited, sending him a thumbs up emoji.  

Heading to the personal rooms.

She tried to even her breathing.

Passed his door, I think we’re coming to you?

Y/N frowned at the text, then a few seconds later heard a knock on her door.  She looked at her door in shock, slowly walking over and unlocking it.  She opened the door and peeked around it to find Bucky standing there, ramrod straight with a frown on his face.  But his expression didn’t meet his eyes.  They looked empty, devoid of emotion.  This wasn’t Bucky.

“Bucky?” she whispered.

He didn’t respond.  “We’ve had to use the word ‘Soldat’ to get him to respond,” Sam said quietly behind him, looking ashamed at even having to say it.

She nodded and looked up at him.  “Soldat?” she asked.  His eyes looked down at her, the only part of him that was moving other than his chest as he breathed.  “Mission complete,” she said, unsure of how to proceed.  

He still didn’t move, just watched her intently, before his lips parted.  “Zhihn moya,” he murmured with a slight nod. Joaquin took a step forward.  “Maybe if we get a Russian speaker–”

Bucky whipped around, punching Joaquin in the stomach with his flesh hand, sending him flying back into the wall opposite Y/N’s door.  Sam raised a taser at Bucky while Bucky backed up and covered Y/N with his body, his metal arm protectively holding her behind him.  She gasped at everything happening so fast, her hands reactively holding onto his metal arm.  “Soldat!” she cried out, and he barely turned his head, glancing at her before glaring back at Sam.  “It’s okay,” she said, reaching one of her hands up to his shoulder, trying to pull him away.  “They’re your partners.  They aren’t here to hurt you, or me.”  She looked at Sam who sighed then reluctantly holstered the taser.  

“I think you’re his new mission, Y/N,” Sam said, turning back and checking on Joaquin, who had the wind knocked out of him.  “He’s not gonna hurt you.  But if something happens you tell Friday and we’ll come running.  Use your abilities on him.  Wake him up.”

She nodded, pulling Bucky back another step.  She and Sam exchanged a knowing look before she closed the door, enclosing her in with the Winter Soldier.  Bucky’s stance didn’t let up at first, until he could hear Sam and Joaquin move away from beyond the door.  After a few minutes he stood straight again, turning and looking at her.  His dead eyes scared her, and she tried to think of what to do next.  He seemed very protective of her, so she decided to play into that.

“Thank you for protecting me,” she said quietly.  “Your mission is complete now.”  He didn’t respond, just staring at her.  She was normally able to feel his emotions easily, but now it was just…silent.  She had never come across someone who felt literally nothing.  Y/N took a deep breath and took a step toward him.  He watched her as she took another step, then reached a hand up toward his face.  She went slowly, not wanting to spook him, and when her hand cupped his cheek he merely blinked.  Confusion rolled off of him in waves, and she felt a little comfort at finally feeling something from him.  “Would you like to sit down?” she asked, her other hand gesturing to her bed.

He frowned, more confusion bristling under the surface.  His eyes snapped to the bed then back to her.  Y/N frowned then remembered, sighing heavily.  “Sit down on the bed,” she instructed.  His frown relaxed and he immediately walked over to her bed and sat on the end of it, waiting for her next instruction.  Y/N rubbed her face tiredly.  This was gonna take a while.  She turned to face him, looking him over for any injuries from the mission.  She couldn’t see anything, and took a step toward him.  “Take off your tactical suit,” she said firmly.  

Bucky started unbuckling and unzipping everything, focusing on the task until he was able to strip it off and set it down on the floor, leaving him in a black undershirt and his pants before looking up at her again.  She slowly approached until she was standing right in front of him.  His confusion came back mixed with a hesitation that made her heart break.  She kneeled in front of him like that first day when she had worked with him, then looked up at him.  “I’m going to touch your chest,” she said in forewarning.  He didn’t react, but she could feel his heart rate spike, the hesitation getting worse.  She slowly raised her right hand and set it over his heart, his chest slightly flinching at her touch.  She swallowed harshly then let her power flow through her hand.  She could feel his panic as his eyes flaked down to her hand and back at her face in alarm.  She gave him a small, reassuring smile.  The power flicked its way over his body, his eyelids fluttering as it relaxed him.  A small flicker of something in his eyes gave her hope.  It looked like recognition, and his frown returned as he stared at her, his left eye slightly twitching as his mind worked to try and figure out what was going on.

Y/N sat up on her knees, her left hand reaching up toward his face.  “Feel, Soldat,” she instructed him.  Her left thumb settled on the spot between his eyebrows, her left index finger on his temple as her other fingers and hand settled on his face.  Both those fingers started to glow like her palm, and they both gasped as her power injected itself into his mind.  Y/N closed her eyes and searched through his head for Bucky.  It felt like she was clawing through old memories, haunting images of blood, pain and death intermingling with old days with Steve, Wakanda, Sam and her face popping up more often.  She couldn’t help but smile as she dug through until she came across, at the center the spider web of synapses, the huddled body of Bucky, shivering and crying as his one arm covered his head, his left metal arm missing.

“Bucky,” she called out to him.

He froze, slowly raising his head until he could see her, his eyes wide as he choked back a sob.  “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” she said, crawling toward him.  There was a strange pull at her ankles, like something was trying to keep her away from him.  She reached her hand out.  “Come back to me, Buck.”

Bucky crawled to her, losing his balance with only one arm, reaching his hand out.  “I don’t know why I’m here.  I don’t know how he pushed me back.”

“You did nothing wrong,” Y/N said, her fingers barely skimming his fingertips.  “We’ll figure it out together.  But first you have to come back to yourself.  Come back to me.”

The thing at her ankles tried to pull her back more harshly, and she had to concentrate her power more and push forward, kicking at whatever it was.  Bucky gritted his teeth, his fingers gripping her more firmly.  With a big burst of energy, Y/N used both her hands to pull his hand, and he flew up toward her.  She embraced him, wrapping her arms and legs around him.  What felt like a pull in her gut sent them both whooshing back to the present until she gasped and opened her eyes just as Bucky did the same.  Her hands were still where they’d been when she entered his mind, but now Bucky’s body looked sweaty, his face red with effort.  His wide eyes stared at her, his panted breaths fanning her face.  His metal hand was holding her right hand over his heart again, his flesh hand gripping her wrist near his face tightly.

“Y/N?” he rasped.

“Yes, it’s me,” she nodded, her hand on his face moving to cup his cheek comfortingly.  “You’re back.  It’s okay, I’ve got you.”  His eyes flicked back and forth between hers for a moment, like he couldn’t quite believe it.  The hand holding her wrist let go and shakily reached toward her face.  She let go of his face and moved that hand to cup her cheek, nuzzling her face into his palm.  “You’re here.  I’m here.  You came back to me.”

Bucky’s face fell, and he broke down crying.  He fell off the bed and kneeled with her, hugging her close to him with his arms around her waist, his face nestled into the crook of her neck.  Y/N held him, twisting her body so that she was leaning against the end of the bed while sitting on the floor, making him sit with her like she was cradling him.  His legs curled up tight at her side as he held her, crying hard against her shoulder as his hands fisted her shirt at her back.  “I thought I had gotten rid of him,” he sobbed.  “Why is this happening to me?”

Y/N felt herself crying with him, turning her head to kiss the side of his head.  “I don’t know Buck,” she replied quietly.  “But we’re going to figure it out together, like I said.  I promise.  No matter how long it takes.  You will heal.”

He cried harder at her words, his tears dripping down her chest.  Y/N continued to hold him, rocking back and forth as her fingers ran through his hair.  She started to hum a song from the 40’s she had heard him listen to repeatedly.  She didn’t know how long they stayed there, but she wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Miss Y/L/N, Sam Wilson would like a progress report.”

Bucky flinched at Friday’s voice interrupting their moment, and Y/N sighed before looking up at the ceiling.  “Just tell him Bucky’s back and I’ll talk to him later.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bucky sighed, reluctantly pulling away from her.  “I’m sorry,” he said, sniffing and wiping his face as he got off of her.  “I’m sorry for all this.  I’ll go, I just–”

“Don’t,” Y/N said quickly, taking his hand.  “You can stay here as long as you like.”  His jaw ticked, his eyes filling with tears once again as he peered up at her.  “What you just went through was traumatic.  No one expects you to just shrug it off and go on with business as usual.  Stay,” she urged, squeezing his hand.  “Rest.”

Bucky blinked rapidly, more tears falling as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

***

Later that night after Y/N had made sure Bucky was fed and showered before settling into her bed, she held him against her chest as he started to fall asleep.  He kept jerking awake, afraid of slipping back into the Winter Soldier, but she kept reassuring him she would be able to feel it if it happened and wake him up to help him out of it.  She mulled over the events of the day, coming up with a game plan of how to handle his treatment in the coming days.

“Bucky?” she whispered.

“Yeah?” 

“What does zhihn moya mean?”

He stiffened then looked up at her curiously.  “Why?”

“I heard it recently and was wondering what it meant,” she said, trying to play it off as a simple question.

He stared at her, his eyes softening.  “My life.”

Y/N inhaled shakily then nodded.  “That’s beautiful.”  She broke eye contact with him and moved his head back to settle against her chest.  She didn’t need to talk about that with him right now.  She contemplated what that meant.  He had recognized her even within Winter Soldier mode, and something within even the emotionless husk in his brain told him that she was something special that needed to be protected.  “My life,” she thought, a small smile spreading on her face.  

***

Bucky woke the next morning against the comfiest pillow he’d ever felt.  He snuggled further into it before realizing the pillow was moving…breathing.  His mind struggled to catch up to what was happening as he slightly pulled away and looked up to see Y/N, her face smooshed into her pillow as she breathed deeply through her mouth, her eyes moving behind her eyelids as she dreamed.  He smiled, taking a deep breath and burrowing back into her chest.  Her sleep dress had shifted in her sleep, revealing quite a lot of cleavage to him that he tried to ignore as his arms tightened around her.  He was still exhausted from the events of the day before, of which he was desperately trying not to think about.  He just wanted to be present, right here and now in this moment of calm and peace.

It was still dark out when he awoke, and he used the cover of darkness that most people wouldn’t be able to see in to look her over.  The sleep dress was hiked up to her hips, her legs tangled with his under the covers.  His metal arm felt from her lower back over her hip, hiking her leg up over his hip more comfortably.  As that hand moved back to her lower back, pulling her lower half closer to him, his face pressed against her chest, nuzzling her breasts until he could get comfortable.  At least, that was his reasoning behind him being a creep in the moment.  They had been close before, falling asleep in the same bed after she had helped him with hard days, but never like this.

Bucky was extremely appreciative of her saving him yesterday from the Winter Soldier.  As invasive as it had been for her to have to dig through his mind to rescue him, he couldn’t describe the elation he’d felt at seeing her face in the deepest, darkest recesses of his head.  He absentmindedly kissed the swell of each breast, his lips skimming over the skin of her sternum up to her throat.

Stop it, she wouldn’t want this.

She shifted against him, her breathing quickened and her hand in his hair scratching at his scalp.  Y/N hummed, holding his head against her neck.  “Buck?  Are you okay?”

He silently cursed himself for waking her up.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No,” she said, clearing her throat before pulling away just enough to look at him.  “It’s okay.”

He shook his head and shut his eyes tight, unable to meet her kind eyes.  His hands tightened in her shirt.  “I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

She was quiet for a moment, then her hand moved from his head to his chin, pulling him up to look at her.  He didn’t dare open his eyes, afraid that he would see her disappointment in him.  Instead he felt her breath fan over his face, then the brush of her lips against his.  His eyes snapped open at that, his eyes flickering over her face, blinking rapidly.  “I can feel you,” she smirked at him.  “I like you, too.”  He let out the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, a small smile pulling at his lips.  “Though I think we should take things slow,” she added with an arched eyebrow at him.

Bucky chuckled and nodded.  “You’re right, as always,” he agreed, nuzzling her nose with his.

“And don’t you forget it,” Y/N said, nuzzling him back.

“Never, zhihn moya,” he replied cheekily.

Her smirk softened to an adoring smile.  She dipped her head down and kissed his lips softly.  Bucky inhaled sharply as their lips finally met.  It felt so easy, all the pent up emotions and worry all for nothing.  He hummed as he kissed her back, deepening it as he angled his head slightly, but not pushing for too much more.  When she pulled away to look at him again she sighed happily.

“My life.”

[whatmitskisongarethey]

In honor of the book of bill, my first post will be bill cipher!

I’ve assigned him “Should’ve Been Me”. The song’s upbeat sound, the drums and bass paired with the… I think it’s a piano on some sort of synth setting? It all sounds very 80’s and reminds me a lot of Bill. It’s kind of chaotic if you really listen - sometimes the sounds meld together. Now, let’s get on to the lyrics! Mind you, I haven’t fully watched Gravity Falls in years. I was like 12 when it came out. So I’m still trying to remember everything about Bill’s character lol…

Bill is a very lonely triangle. Even though he had friends and family at one point, there’s nobody he can reeeally talk to (‘and I found I had no one to tell’). What is the strange serenity / overwhelming clean feeling that he can’t tell? I interpreted it as the power he gets especially during Weirdmageddon. The freedom? The chaos? Not sure.

These verses remind me so much of Bill and Stanford’s relationship in the book.

“You wanted me but couldn’t reach me” Ford referring to bill as his muse, once getting along with him (maybe a bit too much. what the hell happened on karaoke night?!) but now not being able to reach him. He is too far gone.

“So I went into your memory, relived all the ways you still want me” There’s a point in the book where Bill literally possesses Ford’s mind (‘went into your memory’) and makes him do crazy shit. Bill also speaks directly into his mind, making him think that he has nobody except him, (‘relived all the ways you still want me’ needed me!!) threatening him, typical crazy ex stuff.

I interpreted the girl as being Mabel. He directly says in the book that he relates to Mabel as she’s an agent of chaos. (‘When I saw the girl looked just like me’)

He however feels pity for Mabel and Dipper. Well, maybe not pity. I don’t know if he has the capacity for that. He at the very least acknowledges them being kids going through all these traumatic things. (‘trying to find their way out of a maze.’ the maze being the struggle to survive, as shown by all the timelines where they don’t live.)

These lyrics were harder. Who has power over Bill??

The axolotl! I interpreted the hand as being the axolotl placing Bill in therapy. (‘a labyrinth, where I’d be stuck a while’.)

Repetition is big in Mitski songs. We see that Bill kind of goes crazy, repeating “I’m fine”, (‘it should’ve been me’) almost as if to convince himself.

I interpreted these final lines as being his cry of jealously, in a way. It should’ve been me, my plan for the world. Me! ME!

Here are my second and third choices for Bill:

Thank you all for reading. Do you agree with my choice? Do you disagree? Let me know!

[dandylion240]

“I don’t understand why this is happening all of a sudden,” Kade said, giving his daughter a perplexed look. 

“It’s not all of a sudden,“ Brooks cried, his face red from trying to make himself understood. 

Grant sighed “we know this transgender thing is popular right now but we thought you were smarter than that.”

“It has nothing to do with how smart I am or how popular it is. It’s about how I feel.” He took a deep breath “you don’t understand what it’s like to wake up every day and know you’re in the wrong body.”

“Does this have anything to do with you liking that girl?” Turning to his husband, Kade asked “what was her name?”

“It has nothing to do with her,” Brooks glared at his parents. 

“We understand if you’re uncomfortable coming out as a lesbian,” Grant assured her. “It hasn’t always been easy for your dad and I being a gay couple. But you don’t have to do something so drastic to appear normal.”

The shock of his dad’s words left Brooks speechless. His mouth dropped open but no words came out. How could his parents think he wanted to be transgender for appearances? Tears rolled down his cheeks “you don’t understand.”

“We understand that you want to erase the little girl we love and cherish out of existence,” Kade was just as tearful as Brooks was. 

“Do you think if it was a choice I’d choose this?” Brooks said. “I’d do anything not to feel like this. To feel normal. To wake up and look in the mirror and be happy with what I see. But I don’t. I hate what I see.”

“If you feel like that then why didn’t you tell us,” Grant asked. “We would have gotten you help.”

“It’s not a mental disease,” Brooks cried.

“I read something that therapy has proved useful in helping some people to accept who they are,” Kade said. 

“I know who I am,” Brooks said, looking between his parents.

“You’re our beautiful daughter,” Grant said before Brooks could continue “we’ll get in contact with a therapist and you’ll see we’re right.”

“But…” Brooks sighed “fine.” He pushed his chair away from the table wanting nothing more than to be alone and hope for the ground to open up and swallow him.

Rose walked into the kitchen just in time to hear her parents discussing Brooks. They looked up at her with expectant eyes “what?” she asked, wishing she hadn’t wanted a snack before going up to her room.

“What do you think of Brooks wanting to become a boy,” Grant asked, patting the chair next to him indicating he wanted her to join them.

“Um,” she looked around her like she hoped the house would spontaneously combust. 

“She must have confided in you,” Kade said. “Help us wrap our heads around this.”

She moved forward with small hesitant steps. Sitting down across from her parents she made a point of checking her phone, hoping for someone to call her. 

“Is she doing this to get back at us,” Grant forged ahead. “Is she mad at us because we insisted she get extra help when she starts university this fall?”

She gave her dad a ‘what are you talking about’ face. “She was hurt that you didn’t think she could do the work…”

“Of course she can do the work,” Kade protested. “We just thought she needed a little boost, you know with her dyslexia.”

“Does she think being a boy is going to help her studies,” Grant asked.

“What,” she couldn’t help but burst into giggles “no. She might be confused but she’s not delusional.”

“I’m not confused,” Brooks shouted from where he stood by the refrigerator. 

Rose jumped to her feet “I didn’t mean … .It’s not what it sounded like.”

Crossing his arms defensively around himself “so I didn’t just hear you say I was confused?”

“Well,” Rose’s face twisted, “I meant the situation was confusing.”

“Don’t be mad at your sister,” Grant said, “she was just trying to help.”

Brooks shrugged, glaring at his sister. “Yeah right. Helping.”

“I am,” Rose cried her cheeks burning “I was trying to explain and I,” she sighed “I didn’t do a very good job.”

Moving towards his daughter Kade put a comforting hand on her shoulder “I think you’re right. Brooks is confused. Once she goes to therapy she’ll feel better.”

Slamming his water bottle down on the counter, glaring at his family “I’m not confused. I know what I am, whether you want to believe it or not.”

“Brooks,” Rose called after him “I’m sorry.” But Brooks was already halfway up the stairs with no intention of stopping.

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