#oh they kept the little things they drank sake out of to become brothers....

[rubysunnday]

driver’s licence

Dear Gentle Reader, tonight is a grand occasion. It is a rare feat for  Lady Danbury to throw a ball for the ton but it is even rarer for the Duke and Duchess of Hastings to be able to attend, what with their ever-growing brood. 

Tonight, however, Dear Reader, these two things are happening in concession. Not only are our beloved Duke and Duchess of Hastings returning to us, but the eldest Bridgerton daughter, Y/N Bridgerton for those who struggle to remember the numerous children’s names, has been seen promenading with Lord Barclay in Hyde Park. 

Perhaps tonight will be Miss Bridgerton’s lucky night and will fulfil the Dowager Viscountess’s wishes of seeing all of her children married. The Viscount Bridgerton has recently been married to, formerly, Miss Kate Sharma - a marriage that seems to be a perfect love match.

Could the 1814 season see two Bridgerton children married in a matter of weeks?

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers, 4th June 1814

If she was being entirely honest with herself - something Y/N rarely did because most of the time it meant that her mother had been right and it meant admitting that she’d been right - she wasn’t expecting to be married off anytime soon. 

Unlike Eloise, Y/N wasn’t entirely opposed to marriage. She wasn’t going to marry just for the sake of it, however. Whoever it ended up being had to be perfect and had to be someone she would happily spend the rest of her life with.

Y/N had two excellent examples of marriage to live up to. Daphne and Simon and Anthony and Kate - both love matches and both couples completely and utterly obsessed with their spouses. 

Lord Barclay had been nice to her. He’d danced with her, promenaded with her and had bought her - and her sister’s and mother - flowers. He was relatively knew to his lordship, his father had passed away the previous year and left his estate and title to his first son. 

Lord Barclay - Matthew, he’d told her to call him Matthew - had a younger brother who was nearer Y/N’s age but she hadn’t seen him anywhere in London. If the ton’s rumours were to be taken as gospel, he’d fled to America to get away from his father and his older brother.

But Y/N didn’t care about him. She liked Lord Barclay and after almost two years out in society and no sign of any marriage offers... well, her mother had always wanted to see all of her children married. 

And if he asked her to marry him - which she suspected would be coming soon - she wouldn’t say no.

But there was a niggling voice in the back of her head (one that sounded suspiciously like her mother and her brother, Colin) that kept asking if she was happy or if she was just settling. 

Colin’s displeasure and hatred of Lord Barclay was evident. He wasn’t admitting why he hated the man but every time his name was brought up or he came over to offer Y/N a dance, Colin would step forward protectively and pull Y/N away - unless another member of the family was around.

Colin was part of the reason why Y/N was having doubts about agreeing to marriage. He’d confided in her one night about how he didn’t want her to just settle and wanted her to be happy. 

But Lady Danbury’s ball was going to be the night she finally decided. Y/N could feel that something was going to happen that night. She was excited to see Matthew again and to, maybe, become his fiancee. 

It’d been a wonderful day. Daphne had joined Y/N, Eloise and their brothers for a ride through Hyde Park. They’d had picnic and then returned home to prepare for the ball that night.

Y/N had chosen one of her favourite new dresses to wear - Matthew had suggested the fabric when he’d accompanied her to the modiste to pick up some new dresses. 

She was excited to see him at the ball and talk to him. He’d been a bit distant, lately, but Y/N put it down to stress about his lordship. But there was still something niggling her in the back of her mind. And it wasn’t Colin, who was yelling up the stairs for her to hurry up. 

The dress was a beautiful lilac with silver flowers and pearls. She had her maid curl and pin her hair up with a circlet of flowers around it and wore the earrings Daphne had given her for her birthday a few months ago.

“You look beautiful, dearest,” Violet said, standing behind Y/N. 

Y/N smiled at her mother in the mirror and brought a hand to the necklace around her neck. It’d been a present from Matthew a few days ago. “It does suit the dress.”

Violet paused, looking as if she was contemplating saying something. “Y/N... are you sure about Lord Barclay?”

Y/N looked around at her mother and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Are you happy with him? You’re not just settling?” Y/N paused. She’d been so certain and now, with her mother voicing the doubts she’d been having since... well, since Monday’s Whistledown had come out and since Colin had spoken to her.

Monday’s Whistledown had mentioned Matthew and had said he’d been seen with a mysterious young woman who most certainly was not Y/N. But she’d just put it down to her being his sister. But now she wasn’t so sure. She loved Matthew, she truly did. But... it was nothing like the love Anthony and Kate had for one another or what Daphne and Simon shared.

“I...” Y/N hesitated, looking down at her shoes. “I don’t want to lie to you, Mama,” she whispered, looking up at her mother, “but I don’t know. Monday’s Whistledown has made me doubt some things. I love him, I do but... well, I doubt it would ever be anything like Anthony or Daphne both have.”

Violet sighed softly and walked over to her daughter, embracing her tightly. Y/N  hid her face against her mother’s side, suddenly overcome with emotions and wrapped her arms around her waist, relishing in the comfort and reassuring she was giving.

But as Y/N walked down the stairs of Bridgerton House, her dress trailing out behind her slightly, she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. Her two brother’s - waiting in the hallway for her - stared in awe at her.

There was something so special about a woman in love. She glowed and sparkled as if she was a star on Earth itself. She held herself in higher regard and felt like a queen. Everything seemed a little bit more okay and a little bit happier. 

Even if the doubt was beginning to seep in about whether she did truly love him.

Y/N took Colin’s arm and let him lead her to the carriage. The night was young and the air was warm. She’d never been so excited for a ball before. Kate was coming too - her first ball as Lady Bridgerton. 

Everything seemed to be going perfectly. 

Y/N tried to ignore the niggling feeling in her stomach. She wasn’t going to let it ruin her night. Even if she hadn’t heard from Matthew since Monday. And even if Colin’s mere presence was making it worse.

She tried not to make it obvious that she was looking for Matthew as they walked in to the room. But he was nowhere to be seen, despite promising he would be there. 

The majority of the night was spent on the edge of the ballroom, watching Anthony whirl Kate around the room in newly wedded bliss. Y/N danced with Simon and Benedict and chatted with Penelope and Eloise - who’d been forced to attend and was making sure everyone in a five mile radius was aware of that fact - and pretended not to be worried. 

But she was worried. Had she been so caught up with being in love that she’d missed the red signs that screamed at her to stop and re-consider. 

Anthony had noticed his sister’s increasing distress and had stopped dancing with his wife, walking over to his sister and standing next to her, shoulders touching.

“He’ll come, Y/N/N,” Anthony said, noting his sister look around the room yet again. 

Y/N nodded, not really paying much attention to him. She’d seen the pitying stares from the mothers of the ton and was beginning to dread what Whistledown was going to say tomorrow. 

Kate finished talking with someone and walked over to them, standing next to her husband. She looked at Y/N and then nudged Anthony’s side. “Do something,” she whispered, glancing at her sister - in - law in concern. 

Anthony sighed. “I don’t know what I can do, Kate.” He glanced back at Y/N. “If he does turn up, however, don’t hold me back.”

“If anything you’ll have to hold me back,” Kate replied.

Five minutes passed.

Then fifteen.

Then another five.

Benedict joined them in what was quickly becoming knowing as ‘Bridgerton corner’. He glanced at Y/N, then at Anthony. Anthony shook his head, warning him not to say anything. Benedict simply sat down next to his sister and causally flung his arm over the chair, pretending to subconsciously drum his fingers on her shoulder when he was actually trying to comfort her.

Colin came over with Eloise and Violet and soon every Bridgerton in attendance at Lady Danbury’s ball was standing in the corner, waiting.

Another ten minutes passed.

Y/N stood up and grabbed a glass of Lemonade from the table. She took a sip of the sour liquid and tried not make a face at the tangy taste in her mouth. 

Not liking the flavour of it she handed it off to Colin - her brother ate and drank almost anything put in front of him. Colin silently took it and shifted closer to Y/N, knowing his gut feeling about Lord Barclay had, unfortunately, been right.

Violet looked over at Y/N and sighed. “This isn’t going well,” she said quietly, leaning closer to Anthony and Kate.

“No, it isn’t,” Anthony replied, glowering at any one who dared approach them in their corner. 

“Oh, he’s here!” Y/N exclaimed, perking up as she spotted Matthew as he walked in the main door. “I’ll be back.”

Y/N began heading over to Matthew, weaving her way through the numerous dancers and chatting guests.

“Matthew!” She called, approaching him by the door to the garden. “Where have you been? Come on, I put you down on my dance card.”

She held out her gloved hand to him to take but frowned when he turned and gave her a frown.

Matthew shifted on his feet, an uncomfortable expression appearing on his face. “Ah, Miss Bridgerton.”

Y/N paused, dropping her hand. “Miss Bridgerton? Matthew, what is going on?”

Matthew sighed, looking as if it physically pained him to have to explain. “I don’t want to see you anymore, Miss Bridgerton. I have found another woman  - one my family approves of -”

“Your family doesn’t approve of me?” Y/N asked slowly, struggling to comprehend what was happening. “What -”

“I apologise for any inconvenience caused this evening,” Matthew said, bowing. “I wish you well, Miss Bridgerton.” 

“Matthew -” 

Y/N reached out to grab his hand but he brushed past her, walking across the room and disappearing off into the corridor, leaving Y/N standing alone in the corner, her brain trying to catch up with what had just happened.

Anthony slowly approached, having watched the entire conversation. He’d heard what Lord Barclay had said and had seen the way he stared at his sister - as if she was nothing more than an inconvenience. 

“Y/N/N?” Anthony asked quietly, putting a hand on her arm. “What happened?”

“He... he’s found someone else,” she said, her voice a whisper. “Someone his family approves of. I - what...”

Y/N trailed off, stunned and in shock. Anthony sighed, clenching his hand in anger. He glanced up at his mother, who was hovering worriedly nearby, and shook his head once.

Y/N couldn’t form the words to speak. She just stood there, Anthony's hand on her arm being the one thing keeping her grounded.

The room was beginning to whisper and point at Y/N, all wondering what had happened. Anthony noticed a few beginning to wonder over and grabbed Y/N’s hand, gently tugging her forward and to the centre of the room.

Whilst a dance was the last thing either of them wanted - it was the only way to get away from the prying eyes and the endless questions and pitying stared of the Ton. 

“Are you alright?” Anthony asked quietly, guiding her hands to the correct position and helping her take one step forward. 

Y/N, not wanting to be seen crying in the ballroom, forced a smile onto her face and lifted her head up high, breathing in deeply despite the lump in her throat and the stinging in her eyes and the urge she felt to curl up into a ball and sob. “Of course.”

Red lights, stop signs I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Every time Anthony spun her way, Y/N allowed her facade to crack for just a second. It hurt. Her chest felt tight and every breath was constricted.  Everything hurt.

He’d discarded her to the side like she was a piece of rubbish and as if she was nothing. He’d played with her and showered her with gifts and love and compliments and it’d all been a lie. 

Matthew had lied. He’d lied. 

The words rang around her head like a mantra and it was beginning to consume her. Anthony spun her out and back into him but she almost fell to the floor, her knees beginning to weaken as her body and mind caught up. 

Anthony caught her and held her up, looking down at her blank, emotionless face as she tried not to crack.

Y/N focused on each step - the way her feet rose to the tip toes and then back down to her heel as she stepped back and forth, side to side, up and down. She focused on Anthony’s hand in hers, the warmth of his palm, the familiar, comforting scent of his aftershave.

Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

The lights blurred past, the numerous people dancing around her becoming one solid merge of colour. 

She couldn’t breathe. Her stays felt tight and uncomfortable - even though she knew they weren’t. The necklace she was wearing felt like it was choking her - cutting off the air she need.

Her dress was too tight, too long, her gloves too thick and too heavy.

Sidewalks we crossed I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Y/N didn’t remember much of the dancing - she wasn’t even sure how she was moving one foot in front of the other. Anthony was watching her with concern in his eyes and was leading her and guiding her every step of the way. 

The music was too loud. The candles were too bright. Everything was an overwhelming blur of orange, red, blue and yellow. Her eyes stung as finally, her mind and body came to the same conclusion.

It was over. He was gone and she was free and her entire future was non-existent and she was alone and unmarried and free.

Over all the noise God, I'm so blue, know we're through But I still fuckin' love you, babe

The song ended and before the last notes had even faded away, Y/N was pushing away from Anthony and past her mother and Colin and out the door, running down the corridor away from everyone.

Her shoes echoed loudly on the tiles and she skidded around the corner into the room that had been set aside for the women. Y/n slammed the door shut behind her and panted and sobbed, clutching the edge of the sink tightly. 

She looked in the mirror, her breaths harsh and ragged, and clawed at the necklace Y/N ran down a corridor and into the room that had been set aside for women who need to freshen up or fix their dresses. 

She slammed the door shut behind her and hurried over to the washroom, clawing at the necklace around her neck desperate for air and desperate for it to be out of sight.

I know we weren't perfect But I've never felt this way for no one

The clasp eventually gave way and Y/N flung the necklace to the side, taking in ragged, harsh breaths as she sobbed and clutched the sink to keep standing. 

Her heart hurt. Her chest hurt. Her head hurt. Everything hurt. She couldn’t breathe, couldn't think, could barely see her reflection in the mirror.

She slowly sank to her knees, leaning against the edge of the sink as she curled up and sobbed and sobbed and hyperventilated and sobbed.

It was over. She was free and he was gone.

And I just can't imagine How you could be so okay now that I'm gone.

The door to the side room opened and Violet burst in. She took one look at her daughter - eyes red, skin blotchy, neck scratched from trying to take off her necklace - and ran over to her daughter, falling to her knees beside her and taking her in her arms. 

Y/N clung to her mother tightly as if she were her lifeline in the stormy dark sea she was drowning in. She buried her face in her shoulder and cried and cried.

Anthony stood in the doorway to the room, Colin next to him, and felt his own heart break as he watched his sister fall apart on the floor.  

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

[mooniefics]

in the grand scheme of things [ 2 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren / reader

word count : 6.2k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, eventual smut, praise kink, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warnings : contains nsfw, rlly toxic behavior

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

— originally posted 1 / 25 / 21 on ao3 —

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:  *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*

you were already halfway back to campus before you noticed your phone was missing.

you'd completely forgotten about your desire to message sasha after you stepped out of the shower, taking a good, long look at your naked body in the steamed mirror. starting from your shoulder and ending around your sternum, your skin was scattered with deep marks that you were sure would be printed onto your skin for the rest of the week, maybe even some of the next, seeing as the worst of them were accompanied by the faint bordering of teeth. you wanted to be embarrassed, ashamed, anything that showed the slightest bit of maturity on your end, but you couldn't deny the feeling like you'd gotten a weight off your chest, like you'd reclaimed your emotional freedom by getting the chance to cry it out—and get it fucked out of you, too.

the only concern you held was whether eren would ever know. zeke didn't seem like the type to kiss and tell, he was laidback and easy-going enough to let you come in his home, drown away your sorrows in his alcohol, rightfully take your side despite your weak, albeit still there, insistence for him to take the middle ground and not feel angered on your behalf. plus, you didn't really know how to broach the topic of "can you please refrain from mentioning to your younger brother that you fucked me" without completely embarrassing yourself, but your dirty little secret felt safe with him.

you didn't know exactly how you'd make it up to him, you'd have to figure out some way that was feasible for a broke college student such as yourself. although, he was making it incredibly difficult to chart this incident off as a one and done sort of endeavor when you exited the bathroom just to find your clothes, cleaned and freshly dried, neatly folded on the bed, and the ibuprofen you'd requested with a glass of water waiting for you on the adjacent nightstand. zeke was being nice—a little too nice—but you couldn't help but feel your heart skip at his apparent concern. perhaps it was because you'd been emotionally neglected for a while, or maybe it was because zeke was an impossibly attractive older man who you wouldn't think would ever give you the time of day, or maybe a combination of both.

whatever it was, you allowed that stupid, giddy smile to stay on your lips as you tugged on your clothes, gulping down the two pills, mouth uncomfortably dry until you'd finished off the entire glass in one go. you chatted with him over your plate of eggs, noting that he'd changed out his sweatpants for a much smarter pair of dark trousers, white button up ironed and pristine, brown corduroy coat in one hand and mug of coffee in the other. you quickly finished up, noting the way he kept checking the expensive looking silver watch that fit perfectly over his wrist, accentuating the fine contour of his large hands.

you couldn't say that you were thrilled by the butterflies still fluttering about in your stomach, not at all made any better when he'd once again made an attentive offer to you. "it's kinda chilly out, the jacket you brought isn't really all that suited for the weather today.. wanna borrow one of mine?"

and so you left that morning wrapped up in a leather bomber jacket that was a size or two too big, having to stop yourself from breathing in the wonderful scent of his cologne still lingering on the collar as he walked you out of his apartment, so distracted that you hadn't even bothered to check if you had all your belongings in your purse until something reminded you of your desire to message your roommate.

you'd been driving past one of the shopping plazas you frequented when you had enough time—and money—to spare, catching sight of the many drive-thru restaurants open and quickly thinking of sasha. you owed her a bit of an apology for ditching out on her last night, especially after you'd assured her you would be back in time to watch the new episode of her favorite show when it premiered, but when you'd dug your hand into your purse to reach for your phone, you came up empty.

"fuck." you muttered to yourself, turning into one of her favorite restaurants anyways to get her something.

you didn't exactly have any phone numbers memorized aside from your mother's, you didn't really think anybody did these days, and it wasn't like you could go back and wait the entire day for him to get home. so you settled on roughing it until then, hoping that it'd just fallen out onto the floor of his apartment rather than in the parking lot of his complex where it could be stepped on, run over, stolen—any myriad of things that would assure your phone-less-ness for an irritatingly long time.

by the time you made it back to campus and up to your dorm, sasha was already awake enough to immediately pounce you at the site of the paper bag in your hand, nearly crying with gratitude as she unwrapped her double-patty burger, with extra cheese, as you'd remembered her emphasizing the first time you'd watched her place her order, and two large fries on the side.

"an' yuu ev'n rem'ber'd muh ord'r!!" she spoke around large bites, practically halfway done with it before she properly swallowed. you'd never met a girl who could eat like sasha could eat.

"it was the least i could do after completely ditching out last night." you said as you settled down on your bed with a sigh, shedding zeke's jacket.

"don't sweat it, i invited meeks over so i wasn't completely alone." she assured, then froze, glancing nervously at you like she expected you to be angry.

you weren't entirely thrilled with the fact that your roommate happened to become great friends with mikasa, but it wasn't your place to tell her to stop hanging out with her for the sake of some stupid rivalry over the boy. although, the situation had changed. she'd technically "won" at the end of the day, if she considered such foul play as a win, so you guessed that there really wasn't anymore reasons for tense silences and unnecessarily aggressive glares to be exchanged any longer.

"i'm glad you had fun last night," your smile seemed to ease sasha as she bit into a handful of fries, "even if i couldn't make it."

"so what happened? you went over to talk with one of eren's other friends right?"

you'd told sasha you'd been going over to see someone who knew eren, not exactly bringing in the detail that the said individual was his brother, but it was technically true. the blurry memory of last night flashed through your head, his lazy grins, full lips kissing and nipping over your skin, fingers and cock spreading you open so perfectly for him—

"i-it was nothing..! just got kind of carried away drinking, and he was nice enough to let me crash on the couch for the night."

oh, he let you do something on his couch alright. you hoped your face wasn't incriminating you as her gaze flickered down to the jacket.

"let you borrow his jacket too?" you nodded a bit too quickly, earning a crooked, teasing smile from the girl. "anyways.. what's the consensus? figure out anything new?"

that his best friend you hung out with last night and him cheated on me. "just talked about basic stuff, nothing's really set in stone yet, still mulling it over."

she nodded, already done with her burger and working through the first carton of fries. "did you have your phone on silent? i was worried you got kidnapped or something."

you chuckled through your nose, wandering over to your dresser as you began to unbutton your blouse, jerking to a pause when you remembered the very damning evidence of your own infidelity last night. "don't laugh, ok? i had my phone on silent, we ate dinner and drank, then i passed out, and i guess it fell out of my purse or something, because it wasn't in there when i went to text you if you wanted anything to eat."

"and you still got me something.. you're an angel." you rolled your eyes at sasha's wide, adoring gaze, laughing at the fact that the food took priority over your missing phone, "do you remember the guy's number..?" she wracked her brain for a moment before smacking around her mattress, tapping into her phone, "oh! i got it! he's one of eren's friends, right? if that's the case, mikasa'll have his number for sure."

you felt your back stiffen up, biting at the inside of your lip as you floundered for an excuse. "o-oh no, i wouldn't wanna bother her.. you know we're not on great terms, what happens if she asks why you need his number?" sasha's disgruntled frown encouraged you. "if she hears that you're only getting it for me, she probably won't give it to you."

"come on, she's not that bad." you shot her a look as you pulled a set of clean clothes out of your dresser drawers, opting to change in the closet, "alright fine... maybe she is that bad sometimes. but it's not like you killed her dog or something, and plus you're, like, her best friend's girlfriend-"

"for now." you interrupted, shutting the door and putting a barrier between you and your roommate's prying eyes, "and we barely even act like a couple anymore."

"for now." sasha repeated mockingly, mouth obviously full of fries, "but anyways, i'm sure she'll do this teeny favor for you—especially if i'm asking—so c'mon, give me a name!"

you tugged the long-sleeved sweatshirt over your head, checking yourself on the mirror hanging onto the back of the door to make sure you were entirely covered. "no, sasha. she already doesn't like me enough as it is, no need for us to interact and antagonize each other even more."

you walked out after pulling on your pair of athletic shorts, loose and comfortable around your slightly sore legs, laughing softly when she stuck her tongue out at you. "fine. be like that. keep secrets from your best friend in the whole wide world."

"ha-ha." you enunciated wryly, sitting back down onto your mattress and pulling your laptop from beneath your pillow. clicking through your itinerary for the coming weeks, you internally groaned. ironic how being a psych major could make you need a psychologist yourself.

─── · 。��☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

your password had been woefully easy to guess.

he'd tried the classic 1-2-3-4, almost thankful when the text at the top of the screen prompted him to enter a different combination, but a slight disappointment came when he tried your birthday and the phone opened without a problem. he'd at least expected to get locked out for a minute or two, but there he was, scrolling with free reign through your inordinate amount of apps at his seat.

he had plenty of time to laze around, seeing as the library didn't have many patrons at the moment, plus the elevated desk concealed the fact that he wasn't truly doing anything from the average passer-by. the sense of power he felt almost made him smile. these days, everybody had everything on their phones, and it made him wonder what secrets you could be hiding in this little device of yours. it was a few generations behind, not that he expected the latest and greatest from a college freshman, but still mostly intact with a obviously aged case, a few dents here, a scratch in the metal there, small cracks webbing from the corners of the screen protector, but all and all it functioned perfectly fine.

he was tempted to snoop further—maybe scroll through your contacts list to see if you had any mutuals he didn't know about, check to see if you actually cleared your browser history or just left out all your dirty laundry for anyone who tapped into your search engine to find—but he maintained some semblance of self-control, opening up your messages app and checking to see what his brother had said.

eren <3  10:53 am hey babe where are you right now

you missed a call from eren <3 (2)

eren <3  10:57 am i know we haven't gotten a chance to talk lately but please pick up

you missed a call from eren <3

eren <3  10:58 am youre making me nervous pick up

you missed a call from eren <3 (3)

zeke couldn't help but chuckle at his younger brother's emotional incompetence. your last message had been days ago, and from scrolling back in the texts he could see how you were attempting to initiate a majority of the conversation, and the sparse replies here and there from eren were nothing short of pathetically uninterested.

zeke pitied you—the desperate, doting, undeniably adorable college girl who wanted nothing more than to make eren happy—his brother didn't deserve such devotion. even if he wasn't truly sure if eren had really cheated on you, what he was sure about was the fact that this relationship was entirely weighed against your favor.

eren <3  11:03 am fuck i know i fucked up but i didntnfucking deserve that please tell me that wasnt you fuck please fuckign pick up i love you

you missed a call from eren <3 (4)

eren <3  11:08 am did you seriously fucking shut your phone off what the fcuk

eren <3  11:10 am you know what me and armin are coming back next week we'll talk then.

that's right, he'd gone out of the country with that scrawny little blonde kid that always flinched when zeke intruded on eren's hangouts, probably on his dad's dime too. zeke scoffed to himself, shaking his head as he tapped through your text conversation, quickly finding the "delete messages?" prompt and selecting all evidence of eren's one-sided correspondence, tapping the bright red "delete all" button at the bottom of the screen, and finally blocking his number just for good measure. all your old chats were still there, and he was sure that you'd gotten used to eren not messaging anyways, meaning he wouldn't have to worry about him reaching out to you for the time being.

slipping your phone back into his pocket with a sigh, he could feel that warm, smug feeling bubbling up in his chest. he knew he was only postponing the inevitable, that you'd find out the whole, horrible truth eventually, but it was almost fun to dance around the consequences like he was doing so right now. you were fun to play with, unassuming and prim one moment and brazenly shameless the next. there were layers to you, hidden bits that he was sure that he could coax you into revealing to him, slowly but surely bare your raw, unconcealed essence.

his thoughts were interrupted by someone at the counter, a girl who looked about your age with a shirt that was far too low for the way she was leaning toward him, pushing forward her library card with a single dainty finger and setting down a small stack of books. and somehow, he was thinking about you again as he flashed a charming smile that had convinced many other women before into getting a library card of their own.

that was the difference between you and everyone else, you didn't throw yourself at him, you didn't so blatantly vie for his attention, but instead silently appealed for it with your shy glances, small shifts in your posture when he drew near, and all those pretty little sounds that he could earn with a few gentle touches in just the right place. he could feel himself stirring in his pants just thinking about last night, glad that he'd made such a good first impression on you as he swiped the girl's card and scanned her books under the sensor next to the computer.

"all set for the next two weeks." he offered a small grin, passing back her things.

"thank you," she paused, making a show of dragging her eyes down from his face to the name tag pinned over his bicep, "zeke. i'll see you then."

she bit her lip as she stepped away from the counter, sauntering away towards the door with an obvious excitement. easier girls always held a place in zeke's heart, but there was nothing like the thrill of the chase that he found in you.

he heard the quiet swoosh of the automatic doors sliding open, glancing over absentmindedly to check out the newest patron. but he felt himself perk up in his seat at the sight of you, large canvas book bag hanging off your shoulder and, much to zeke's delight, still wearing his jacket. it took you a moment to notice him, but the change in your features enthralled him nonetheless, going from bored and almost tired-looking to surprised, then flustered as you froze, wide eyes trained on him. he chuckled to himself, nodding his head at you, almost beckoning you to come, and the self-satisfied smirk that drew across his lips was impossible to contain when you actually began your quick advance up to the counter.

"z-zeke, hi. i didn't know you worked here.."

"and i didn't know you came here." he rolled his chair closer, "i thought i would've seen you around by now."

"i usually go to the library on campus, but," the way you peered around, almost looking nervous to gaze directly at him, was strangely endearing to zeke, "i was just kinda looking for a change of scenery."

"fair enough." he said, remembering the weight of your phone in his pocket, "oh yeah, i'm glad you're here. my roommate called me earlier, said he found your phone on the floor back at the apartment."

you leaned forward at the mention of your phone—the complete lie he'd come up with just now—lips parted in surprise. it looked a lot like the expression he'd envisioned when he had his arms around you last night, pressing teasing kisses over your warm skin, but zeke held off on that thought for the moment.

"ah, i almost forgot about that..! well i'm glad it was that rather than it getting stolen or something.."

he checked his watch, very cognizant of your expectant gaze falling onto him the second he took his eyes off you. "i get off for lunch in about half an hour, if it's not too much trouble we can swing by my place, then i can bring you back here, maybe get you some lunch?"

you flushed brilliantly at that, barely containing your almost giddy smile as you nodded. "yeah thanks, that'd be really great actually! but you don't have to worry about getting me lunch.. i already owe you for dinner last night."

just dinner?, he thought, internally smirking, but he kept it to himself. "don't worry your pretty little head about it," your flustered reactions were addictive, "just go have a seat over in the working area and i'll come find you after i clock out."

you nodded, offering another small "thank you" before you obediently turned to traverse the scattered expanse of tables on the library floor and find yourself a spot to sit. the next thirty minutes felt unnecessarily long for zeke. he'd answered a few phone calls, worked through recording the stack of books he'd recovered from the "returned" box when he clocked in for his shift, but ended up giving into the temptation of shelving them himself instead of handing them off to the page to sneak a glance at you.

you'd settled at a long table nestled between the large shelves, entirely alone aside from another college student that zeke recognized from the frequency of his visits, but the modest amount of seats separating you let him know that you were strangers. you didn't seem to notice him when he drifted by, headphones in, entirely focused on your open laptop in front of you, jacket now zipped up halfway. he'd forgotten how cold the library was, mostly used to it after having worked there for nearly a year, not lingering in the aisle for too long before he finished up putting away the last of the books remaining in his arms and returning to the front.

"willy, i'm clocking out for lunch, can you watch the desk?" he called out when he caught the man emerging from the back.

"yeah, yeah, i've got you. but actually come back on time, alright?" he said, tying up his long blonde hair into a messy ponytail, "magath got on my ass last time i covered for you when you were late."

"can i make it up to you with some coffee?" zeke offered, grinning when his coworker grunted affirmatively, "text me your order, i'll get it to you on my way back."

and with that, he logged out of his account on the work desktop and left the chair for willy to sit in, wandering back out onto the floor to circle back around to where you were sitting.

he alerted you of his presence with a hand on your shoulder, smiling down at you. "ready to go?"

you nodded, quickly packing your things away into your bag and following him out of the library doors to his car. he opened the passenger door for you just to see that cute smile that always seem to draw across your lips when he did something you liked, slipping into the drivers' seat and syncing his phone to the car before he pulled out of the parking lot.

"the smiths, huh?" you mused from beside him as "heaven knows i'm miserable now" played across the radio's screen.

"you still listen to them?" he asked, remembering when he'd seen you in his parents' kitchen in their merchandise.

"sometimes." you replied, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

"a little cold to be wearing a skirt, don't you think?"

"what? it's cute, isn't it?" you protested, prompting him to reach over the console with one hand to give the exposed skin of your thigh a few affectionate pats as he laughed softly.

"it is cute."

you fell quiet after that, obviously pleased with his attention but clamming up with that endearing introversion once again. he was content with watching you nod along to his playlist, smiling to yourself when something you recognized came up in the queue. the ride to his complex was short, and the walk up the staircase was silent, but he could feel your eyes lingering over him as you followed behind him, just as they had flickered over to glance at him when you thought he was focused on the road ahead. something about those tiny looks, shy smiles, the face of someone sheepish yet eager to please, it set zeke on fire.

he knew that he shouldn't be bringing you back to the apartment again, but he also knew that he had just about an hour to kill, and reiner was occupied with his own job and away once again, and you really did look great in that skirt and his jacket—

"give me a sec, i'm pretty sure my roommate put it in his room," zeke said, nodding over to the short hall across from the kitchen, knowing he couldn't just pull your phone out of your pocket right here and give it to you, "feel free to check the fridge if you're thirsty or something."

you gave an affirmative hum, wandering toward the kitchen as he turned to enter reiner's room. he was sure that his friend would throw a fit if he figured out he was in his room without his permission, seeing as he was such a stickler for personal privacy, but he wouldn't have to know, zeke was good a keeping secrets. or at least that's what he liked to tell himself, that he was good at lying and sneaking around and pretending like he wasn't bothered by things that made his blood boil, eren being a prime example of such a thing. nineteen years, and somehow in all that time he'd never matured past the age of twelve.

zeke rolled his eyes at the thought, pulling your phone out and wiping away his finger prints on the front of his shirt. the notifications from your assumed roommate were still on the lock screen, joined by a few more miscellaneous ones from earlier in the day, looking entirely untouched for the hours that it had been out of your possession. that lack of accountability he held for essentially stealing your phone eased him a bit as he ventured back out into the main space.

but he couldn't help the burning desire he felt for you when he saw you seated on the island in the kitchen, open water bottle in your hand, peering at him excitedly in expectance of your phone, jacket now hanging off of you from the warmth of the apartment. you didn't shy away like he thought you might as he approached, simply screwing the cap back on the bottle and straightened up your posture, hand outstretched with a smile on your face.

"here you are." he said, sliding your phone into your hand, legs nearly bumping yours from how close he was.

"thank you." you murmured in reply, turning it on for a quick check of your notifications just for your eyes to gravitate right back over to him.

there was something intoxicating about the way you gazed at him, with a meek yet faintly awe-struck look that always seemed to stroke his ego in just the right place. he usually liked confident women, who were well-aware of their beauty and prowess, but there was something about the way you hid yourself away, only showing what you felt necessary but still caving when he peeled away the layers concealing yourself one by one. you weren't desperate initially, not exactly standoffish either, just the perfect balance of reserved and alluring to draw him along after you. especially how you didn't seem to shy away from a challenge such as himself, despite how easy you were to fluster.

he checked his watch before he spoke, his voice low and full of intention. "we've still got about forty minutes before i have to get back." you licked your lips, eyebrows cinching upward just the slightest bit, head unconsciously tilting upwards towards his. though the height of the counter closed an inch or two of distance between the two of you, he still stood taller than you, pressing forward the smallest bit, able to feel your soft breaths fanning over his cheek. "so, what do you say..?"

you didn't speak, only giving a small nod, and that was all it took for zeke to close the space that was barely there between you, lips melding easily over your own. you let out a small sound of surprise, sending a jolt of heat straight through him, determined to make it happen again. your hands grasped at the front of his shirt, clenching at the fabric when his own rose to grip your thighs, spreading them to accommodate his presence and urge himself even closer to you. the feeling of your bare skin, pliant flesh that his fingers sunk so easily into, the knowledge that the only thing keeping him from you was your underwear under your skirt, was enough to make him even more impatient than he already was.

"didn't get enough last night, huh?" he breathed into your ear after he'd pulled away, grinning at the sight of your shaking head and your whispered "n-no".

he maintained enough control to not mark the skin exposed by your shirt when he reached it, but still nipped with enough pressure to pull more little moans that made his cock ache in the constraints of his pants. you didn't protest when the hands on your thighs slid further inward, gasping softly when he let a finger slowly stroke over your clothed cunt.

"and i've barely even touched you.. naughty girl." the way you bristled at his shameless words was endlessly enthralling to him, "already so needy for me..."

you squirmed as he palmed you through your underwear, attempting to speak, but your words always stammered off into an incoherent whimper, hips already rutting up as subtly as they could manage into his hand. "p-please, zeke. i w-want.."

"what do you want?" he pulled away from your neck, hazy, low-lidded eyes gazing directly into your own, "want my fingers in that little pussy of yours?"

you flushed brilliantly at his crassness, but nodded all the same, following up with a whimpered "yes, please..!"

you were begging with your mouth and eyes and he'd only just started, the fact that you were so eager from just the slightest touches made him impossibly hard. he lowered himself to his knees as quickly as he could, letting your heels rest on his shoulders to push yourself up off the counter long enough for him to peel your underwear off of you, sucking air between your teeth when you lowered your bare skin back down onto the cool granite.

he loved how compliant you were, how you let him adjust your position as he pleased, balancing yourself on one hand after he'd settled you on the edge of the island. he made sure to admire the way your face shifted when he ran a finger across your slick skin, thumb drawing across your clit to tease you for just a moment before he slid one finger into you.

"fuck.." he muttered to himself, admiring how you just barely arched toward him when he curled it inside you, retracting his hand and pushing in with a second finger.

he was sure that he could watch you all day, spread out on the kitchen counter, bottom lip reddening from being bitten so firmly between your teeth, eyes glassy and completely fogged over with lust. but he knew that he only had this single hour, regretting offering willy his promise of apology coffee, but deciding to take care of what he'd started and still having time to spare.

plucking his glasses from his nose, he set them on the counter beside your phone, pressing a lingering kiss over one of the thighs beside his head as a silent way to let you know his intentions, pleased to see nothing but anticipation etched across your flushed features as he proceeded. his first lick was intentionally slow, savoring the full body tremble you gave and the flavor of you on his tongue, grasp on your flank fastening to hold you apart while he continued.

he groaned at the hand that shakily clenched in his hair, the one clasped over your mouth doing little to contain the whines and baseless pleas spilling from your lips. zeke was certain his neighbors hated him by now, but he could honestly care less about such a menial detail like that when it was you moaning loud enough to be heard all the way down the hall, solely because of him. and a part of him had to wonder if eren had ever been able to satisfy you the way he had last night—the way he was now—if he'd ever gotten to fully explore and appreciate all the little things you had to offer. his younger brother was juvenile at best in his eyes, and, as far as he knew, entirely inexperienced until he began dating you. but zeke didn't mind showing up the kid, especially not when you deserved to feel as good as he made you feel. after all, he still had just about a week until ramifications were entirely inescapable, he could keep having fun with you for those couple days at the very least.

he pushed the more complicated thoughts from the forefront of his mind, choosing instead to focus on you in front of him, eyes low-lidded and unfocused, now biting onto one of your knuckles, hips rolling into his mouth and fingers in an obvious chase for your release. he rolled his tongue across your clit in quick, ruthless strokes, grinning against you when you whined, eyes rolling back into your head as it felt back toward the ceiling, your hold in his hair almost painfully tight. he could feel the tell-tale stiffen of your muscles, curling his fingers to rub at that part that seemed to drive you wild, catching the stammered end of his name on your lips as you came.

even from his place on the ground, he could see how your chest heaved, legs still quivering, wearing an almost dazed expression until you'd blinked away the fogginess in your eyes. your sheepishness returned when you watched him lick his lips, still slick with your arousal, whimpering softly at the departure of his fingers. he adjusted himself in his pants before stepped away, allowing you to recollect yourself while he proceeded over to the kitchen sink, washing his hands and patting away the remaining stickiness from his chin with the paper towel he used to dry them, watching with a close-lipped grin as you slowly lowered yourself back onto the ground and pulled up your underwear.

he checked his watch after he'd situated his glasses onto his face, frowning. only the better part of twenty minutes left in his break. "ready to get going?" he asked, running a hand through his hair to smooth it back down, his casual tone seeming to ease you.

"mhm." you replied, straightening out your clothes and beginning to shrug his jacket back onto your shoulders before you glanced over at him, "do you want this back? i didn't mean to steal it from you.."

"keep it." he said, plucking his keys from his pocket and proceeding towards the door, "it looks good on you." he didn't even have to look back at you to know that you were smiling.

the car ride was once again mostly silent, seeing as you were tapping through your phone and looking at everything you'd missed in the time you were away from it. but when he'd pulled into the starbuck drive-thru to get willy his unnecessary complicated order and turned to ask if you wanted anything, he caught you looking at your text conversation with eren before you shut your phone off and asked for a chai latte and a butter croissant, and he felt an odd twinge in his chest as he delivered your request and his own of an unsweetened cold brew to the speaker beside his rolled down window.

was it irritation? jealousy? possessiveness? for the first time in a while, he was unsure of how he felt. it was a bit unnerving, but also fascinating all at once. he could've never expected this sort of outcome from the situation, but it wasn't entirely unwelcoming. now that he thought about it, his life had been a bit dull lately, a cyclical routine of attending his job, going out for drinks on tuesday, the occasional sexual conquest here and there with women he met but never remembered, but your call had been a break in the routine, an expected opportunity that he was determined to not let slip through his fingers. and while he would've probably just been satisfied with allowing your name to join all the others in the blurry recesses of his memory at first, he knew now that there was much more for him to discover.

so he let you finish up the lunch he'd gotten you, turning up the radio and escorting you back to the library, feeling far too satisfied with himself as he watched you disappear between the shelves, proceeding back behind the desk and setting willy's coffee down beside him. "don't get up yet, i have to piss."

he groaned frustratedly at that. "why didn't you fucking do that on your break, you ass."

"i got your coffee in the drive-thru." zeke replied absentmindedly, already stalking off to the staff bathroom in the back with the thought of you on the counter playing over and over in his head.

only after locking the door and settling on the toilet did he finally let out a heavy sigh, tapping into his camera roll and quickly finding his picture of you from this morning. just the sight of your half-exposed body made his pants feel tight once again, and he regretted not taking more photos when he had the chance, but this would be enough for now, especially with the memory of you begging for him not even an hour ago fresh on his mind.

he didn't feel any sort of shame as he unzipped his pants and pulled himself out of his boxers, the tip of his cock already slick with pre, ready for the release he'd denied himself for the sake of time—and your satisfaction, of course—the release he'd be granting himself right now, with you just a couple meters away, entirely unaware that it was all because of you.

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[moving-accounts-uwu]

Right Where You Were Meant To Be (Bucky x Plus-size!Reader)

Fandom: Marvel 

Characters: Bucky x Plus-size!reader

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, body-shaming

Story type: One-shot

Word count: 2.7k words 

Summary: Reader has a crush on Bucky the second she looked at him but she also has feelings of self-consciousness about her body and doubts she’d ever end up with Bucky or any guy like Bucky. That all changes one night at one of Tony’s parties.

(A/N: This is a cute little one-shot idea I had and just wanted to write out. I feel there aren’t many plus-size!reader stories so I wanted to make my own. I’m a chubby girl and felt like I needed some love, lmao. Any mistakes I take responsibility for, this story wasn’t beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!! Also, the gif isn’t mine, but he just looks so precious <3)

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It all started when you looked at him for the first time. He had just moved into the Tower, and you had just gotten the job as Tony's new assistant since Pepper had become CEO of Stark Industries. Because you worked in an environment with superheroes who were very fit and healthy, you had become self-conscious of yourself; whether it would be what you wore, the things you ate, or just how your body looked in general. 

Being a bigger girl, it often took a toll on your mental health when you would notice the glances, the whispering, the judgmental stares, and how shopping for clothes in your size was difficult, and it made you feel like you had to lose weight to fit in and belong. You felt alone and isolated. 

You didn't have any friends; you didn't even talk to many of your co-workers, and just kept to yourself a majority of the time. When Bucky moved in, you noticed he did the same. He didn't speak much to the rest of the team, he mostly stayed in his room, and only hung around Steve. Bucky was very fit, and his muscular body showed it whenever he wore tight-fitted clothing. You would never wear tight-fitted clothing for fear of having your plumpness accentuated.

After five months working for Tony and having a more friendly relationship with the rest of the team, you had built a few close bonds with some of the heroes. Wanda and Natasha were your closest girlfriends and would regularly have 'Lady's Nights' every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Tony, Clint, Sam, and Steve were like your older brothers and would look out for you. 

You and Steve made it a routine to do small exercise and yoga in the afternoons just after 4 o'clock. How this all started was because you wanted to accomplish small goals for yourself, as Sam told you to do to help with your mental health.

"Steve," You called out as you stepped into the Tower's gym, the one place you knew where to find Steve if he wasn't in the common room.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! What's up?" Steve turned to face you as he held the punching bag still while he watched you walk closer to him, noticing you fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

"I just... I wanted to start doing light exercises, you know, to boost my endorphins, and so I have something to do in the afternoons when I've finished with work." It wasn't a complete lie, but it just sugar-coated the fact that you just wanted to lose weight to gain confidence in yourself.

Steve had agreed to help you; he wouldn't push you too much either because he didn't want you to strain anything and not push you out of your comfort zone too much. Both of you would exercise for an hour each day in the afternoons. This routine had been going on for six weeks, and you were enjoying it. You felt better about yourself each week when you would check your progress and write down how much you lost during the week; you were more confident than you were all those weeks ago before asking Steve for help.

During one of those afternoon exercises, you and Steve were both in the Adho Mukha pose with Steve wearing his usual tight t-shirt that you swore was a size too small, and shorts while you wore a loose, black tank top, and tight-fitted leggings that complemented the shape of your plump ass. You were so in the zone that you hadn't heard the gym doors open and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you. Bucky stood behind you and Steve, him getting an eyeful of your butt while he cleared his throat to catch his best friend's attention. 

"Hey, Bucky! I didn't notice you were there. (Y/N) and I were doing some yoga, would you like to join us?" 

You. Were. Mortified. You quickly stood up beside Steve and looked down at your feet, trying to avoid looking at Bucky after having your ass practically in his face. 

"Uh, I kinda have to get ready for 'Girl's Night' tonight, but I think Bucky can keep you company." You nervously spoke, having your words jumble out quickly due to your inner-embarrassment. "I'll see you later, Steve!"

You bolted out of the gym as fast as your legs could go and made it up into your room without another incident. When you flopped onto your bed, you let out a loud, exhausted sigh before closing your eyes shut tightly. 'Why did I have to act like a nervous wreck? You didn't even let him talk for Christ's sake!' After beating yourself up over the little incident, you started to get ready for 'Girl's Night' with Nat and Wanda. 

It was two hours into 'Girl's Night' and you, Nat and Wanda had, at least, drank four glasses of Kraken Rum and about three shots of Vodka. You were more relaxed and carefree, enjoying your time with your best friends while gossiping about an episode of Criminal Minds you all saw the other day together. 

"Not gonna lie, I would love to have a man like Morgan. Have you seen his muscles? And how he kicks down doors like a badass?" You gushed.

"That is true, and I fully believe Morgan and Garcia should be together. They have chemistry and look so cute!" Wanda loved her Morgan and Garcia ship. 

"Eh, I like to have a super cute genius but that's just my opinion" Nat took a sip of her fruity vodka drink while shrugging her shoulders.

"Of course you would, you're with Bruce and that's a little bias, Nat." You gently shoved your red-haired friend playfully. 

You and Wanda giggled like school girls when Natasha scoffed before she pointed an accusing finger at you.

"Well, says you, (Y/N)! You practically drool whenever you see Barnes."

That shut you up quickly. 'How does she know?! Play it off'

"That's very funny Nat, but I don't know what you mean."

"Don't bullshit me, (Y/N). I've seen the way your cheeks get all pink and how your eyes are glued to him whenever he walks by. You're so smitten it's grossly cute." Then Wanda turned to you with a small smirk on her face.

"Maybe you should ask him to work out with you and Steve!"

Flashbacks of your embarrassment earlier that day made your face go pale. 'Absolutely not'. You shook your head furiously, staring at your two friends with fear. There was no way you'd have the guts to do such a thing, not after how you acted around him before. Plus, you didn't want him to look at you with disgust when he looks at you working out. You shake off all the negative thoughts before finishing off your last bits of rum.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Tony wants me to help him organize and plan a gala party to celebrate his newest project. And when I say to 'help him' I mean I'll be doing most of the work while he hides away in his lab with Bruce." You said before walking off and waving the girls goodbye.

2 weeks later...

You had most of the gala planned out. You had booked a cute catering company to organize some food dishes for everyone and even hired a group of people to decorate one of the large common rooms that would fit all the guests on Tony's guest-list. You had even bought a cute new dress to wear for the party. The party was starting that night at 7:30 and you would hopefully get everything done while having an hour and a half to spare to get ready. 

When the decorating and planning finished, you quickly made your way to your room and got showered and changed. You stood in front of your mirror for quite some time, nitpicking every flaw you could see, judging your appearance because you knew how the other women at the party were going to look flawless and have every man swooping in for them. A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your negative thoughts.

"(Y/n), you ready?" Wanda's voice called from the other side.

"Y-yeah! I'm coming now." You dashed for the door to get away from the mirror so you can't put yourself down even more. Once opening the door, Wanda linked your arm with hers, and both of you walked toward the elevator. 

Telling FRIDAY which floor, you both arrived just as a few of the guests were mingling around; drinking, eating, and chatting. You glanced around, hoping to see the familiar faces of your friends, spotting Sam, Nat, and Clint near the bar where Natasha was serving the drinks. Tony was standing next to Pepper and being an absolute flirt as always while Steve and Bucky were standing near a corner with drinks in hand. Before you could make your way over to the bar, Wanda told you to wait where you were while she goes to quickly touch up her make-up, disappearing before you could say a word. You stood there awkwardly and looked around, making sure everything was going swimmingly until you felt a presence behind you. A tap on your confirmed that someone was indeed behind you.

You turned around to see a group of two slender women and three muscular men staring at you with smug and cocky smiles on their faces.

"Can we get some more drinks? And make them with a little more alcohol this time." One of the men quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to scurry off to grab their drinks.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not part of catering. I'm-"

"You certainly look it though, I mean, you're not dressed like you're here as a guest. The dress you're wearing looks like the other catering staff." A woman spat, her eyes narrowed at you. You started to feel self-conscious about your outfit now, realizing the color-scheme looked very similar to the catering staff.

"Plus, the dress isn't that flattering for your body hun. We can practically see your muffin top and panty lines with how tight that dress is on you." The other woman commented while she leaned to the side to glance at more of your plush figure.

A stinging sensation began to appear behind your eyes, feelings of doubt, and an anxiety attack began to make themselves known. So looked away from the group and quickly made for the elevator, shooting Wanda a quick text saying you weren't feeling too well. 'How stupid of me to think I even looked good or that I could fit in at the party.' By the time the elevator doors reached your floor and the doors opened, hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you tried to furiously wipe them away with zero results. The tears kept flowing down as you began to walk down the hallway to your room; quiet footsteps barely making noise as they followed you. Just as your hand settled on the door handle, a warm hand clasped onto your shoulder gently. With a yelp, you spun around with a jump to look at your "attacker", only to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring at your teary eyes intensely. 

Bucky's eyes held hints of concern and worry, but it was hard to see because he was good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that your eyes were blurry from crying.

"You okay, (Y/n)? I saw you leave the party quickly and noticed how fast your breathing was." Bucky had to look down at you because he was so tall, or was it because you were just very short?

"I'm fine, Bucky. I just don't do well in crowded places or with so many strangers. I got a bit overwhelmed but it's fine now." You weakly smiled but he could see right through it, he always did.

"You had a panic attack after speaking to a group of people, and judging by the looks they gave you while talking to them, I can only believe it wasn't a pleasant conversation." Bucky then brought both his flesh and metal hands to cup your face while he peered into your eyes more. "Tell me what happened, doll." 

You sighed, you knew he wasn't going to let this go. Even though you both barely spoke to each other, he still cared for you like the both of you knew each other for years. Something about his calm voice and caring nature helped your nerves settle.

"They thought I was part of catering and asked if I could get them more drinks. I told them I wasn't catering, only for them to make snarky comments about my outfit and body. But it's fine, I'm used to having those comments made to me, I've dealt with those types of people all my life." Your hands gently held his and tried to move them away from your face but Bucky didn't budge. 

"You don't believe them, right? I mean, I think the dress looks good on you. It shows off your curves and any man who doesn't get blown away is blind."

You gave a humorless laugh and shook your head at Bucky, looking down at the floor.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me, Buck. We both know girls like me don't belong in a place like this, or a party like that. You can go back to the party, I don't want to waste more of your time." You went to turn away when Bucky held your upper arms tightly.

"Not a chance, doll. I'm not a fan of crowds myself and was about to leave the party myself until I saw you run away. I'd rather spend my time with you and making sure you don't ever think that you don't belong."

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, his stare was intense with adoration and love while you stared at him in shock that he'd want to spend time with you. Before you could blink, Bucky leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours, his arms wrapping around you and caging you into a warm and gentle embrace. Your hands rested onto his firm chest while his hands rested on your lower back, just above your butt. At first, you were in shock but then you gave in to the kiss and snaked your arms around his neck, your fingers embedded into his long hair. 

The kiss was full of passion, and so much love that you didn't think it was possible. When the need for air was too much, you both separated and looked into each other's eyes once again.

"H-how? Why me? We barely know each other!"

"Because, (Y/n), I've been smitten for you since I first laid eyes on you but didn't have the guts to tell you. Steve's been a punk and trying to get me to join your work out sessions for weeks but I was too nervous to do it." Bucky's cheeks tinted red as he chuckled.

"And why's that? I was scared that if saw me working out, that you'd be grossed out by my body." You explained, chewing on your bottom lip.

"I could never be grossed out, sweetheart. I love a woman with curves and plumpness to her. I was nervous that if I watched you work out, I would try to make a move on you too fast and scare you away. I didn't want that to happen." Bucky grabbed your chin and leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours. "And you looked downright sexy in those tights, they shape your ass well."

You gasped and lightly smacked his shoulder while he smirked at you. His playfulness coming through. You made the first move this time and got onto your tippy toes to kiss him. This is was quicker than the first but still held the same emotions. With so much strength you underestimated he had, Bucky lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he opened your door and carried you over to your bedroom. Both of you watched a bunch of movies in your room; many kisses were shared before you both passed out, cuddled up under your fluffy blankets, safe in Bucky's arms. Right where you were meant to be all along.

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

Thanks for reading!!! <3 <3 <3

[justthehiddleswrites]

Forever Hold Your Peace | Tom Hiddleston x Cumberbatch!Reader  | Chapter 2 | The Engagement

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Cumberbatch!Reader

Summary:  Tom Hiddleston dated Benedict's little sister (reader) back at Cambridge, after a bad breakup Tom and Benedict are now friends. The reader is now engaged to an American who Benedict does not trust. Ben turns to his good friend Tom to help break up the wedding and win back the girl he never truly got over.

This Chapter:  Tom attempts to make amends with Ben. Reader has some exciting news but Benedict is not thrilled. He works to enlist Tom to help break up an engagement.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slapping, cursing.

-

Two weeks after Benedict decked Tom at the event, Tom rang him to invite him for a few beers. Benedict accepted wondering if Tom was just looking for a rematch. They met in a pub close to Benedict’s home. Tom was already there.

“I ordered a beer for you.” Tom slid the glass across the table.

“It’s not poisoned is it?” Benedict sniffed the beer as if he could detect the poison by smell alone.

“Only if you are allergic to hops.” Tom chuckled. “You and your sister can land a punch.” Tom touched his nose, the bruises faded.

“Sorry about that.” Benedict mumbled into his beer.

“No, I well earned it. I behaved poorly and your sister did not deserve that.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“I was so focused on becoming an actor. I had blinders on to anyone else’s feelings. Will you please extend my apologies to her?”

Benedict nodded. “So…” he looked around.

“Friends?” Tom extended his hand, and gave a sheepish grin.

“On one condition…” Benedict took a long swig of beer. “… you never date a member of my family again.” Benedict extended his hand.

“Deal.” The two shook hands and laughed.

Two beers later, they gave goodbyes and laughed about the whole thing. Any ill will between the two had passed.

2012

Benedict groaned and rolled over in bed to fumble for his phone on the nightstand. He saw your number and hit the ignore button. Five minutes later, the phone rang again. He groaned and answered the phone.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Good afternoon to you, too. What have I done today to earn such a greeting?”

“Woke me up.”

“It’s 1 p.m.”

“I was up late shooting scenes.”

“Well suck it up, I am calling to invite you to dinner tonight.”

“Will Billy Bob be there?”

“His name is William Robert and yes.”

“Then I am not coming.”

“Come on Ben, Mom and Dad already agreed and it’s really important for you to be there.”

“So I can stab William?” Benedict rolled up to sitting.

“Be nice. Why do you always hate my boyfriends?”

“Because you have horrible taste in men.”

“What about Tom?” you asked pointedly.

“Tom is the exception that proves the rule. Besides, I didn’t like him until after he broke up with you.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“You brought it up.”

“Tower Grill, 6 p.m. wear something nice.”

“Can I bring a date?”

“Are you even dating?”

“Perhaps.”

“Is it Sophie?”

“No comment.”

“Then no, you can’t bring a date.”

“Fine.”

“How is Tom?”

“Busy. Tall. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Tower Grill.”

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“6 p.m.” you yelled into the phone as he ended the call.

Benedict tried to doze back off but an uneasy feeling about tonight nagged him.

-

Benedict sat at the far end of the table. He could barely stand William for more than a few moments let alone an entire meal. For whatever reason, he kept asking Benedict if he knew Arnold Schwarzenegger. After politely saying no about five times, he found it better to avoid him.

“Thank you, everyone for coming here tonight.” William started as he stood at the end of the table. “We have a little announcement.”

You stood up next William and gazed up to him with adoring eyes. It took everything in Benedict’s power to not roll his eyes.

“WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!” you squealed as you flashed a sparkling engagement ring. Benedict’s eyes widened in surprise. The two of you had been for just over a year.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Ben asked as he sidled up and kissed your forehead.

“Sure.” your brows furrowed in confusion.

“In private.” he tugged you away from the fray.

“What is it?” you asked once out of earshot from the group.

“Isn’t this all so sudden? I mean how well do you know Bil… er… William? You’ve been dating how long? Six months?” Ben questioned as he pursed his lips.

“It has been eighteen months. I know him better than you do, since you never even bother to take the time to talk to him! He’s trying.”

“For God’s sake, he keeps asking me if I could introduce him Arnold Schwarzenegger! Do I look like the kind of person who knows the Terminator!?”

“He is trying to show interest, you ass!” you yelled.

Benedict took a step back and waved his hands to quiet you. “I’m just saying I don’t think he is the right guy for you.”

“What the fuck do you know, anyway? Like you are some relationship expert!?” you huffed away to rejoin the rest of the family.

Benedict frowned as William slipped his arm around your waist and kissed you. William stared at Ben from over your shoulder with a sinister smirk.

Later that week

Benedict’s foot tapped against the table leg as he waited for Tom to arrive for their lunch date.

“Hey!” Tom’s voice boomed from behind him.

Benedict rose and embraced Tom into a tight hug. Tom pulled back to look at his friend and his brow furrowed. It was impossible to ignore the dark circles under Benedict’s eyes and the weary expression.

“Are feeling alright?” Tom gave a squeeze to Benedict’s arm.

“I’m fine.” he lied. He didn’t want to lay his worries on his friend first thing. “I’m going to go to the bathroom, will you order me a drink?”

“Of course.” Tom nodded and took the other seat at the table.

Tom looked over the menu when Benedict’s phone rang. He spied your name and face on the screen and smiled as he picked up the phone to answer.

“Hello darling.”

“Ben? Who is this?”

“I am wounded that you don’t recognize my voice.”

“Tom? Why do you have my brother’s phone?” you asked, flushing at the sound of Tom’s deep baritone. You were unprepared for Tom to pick up the phone.

“We are meeting for lunch, he stepped out for a moment. How are you doing?” Tom couldn’t stop smiling listening to you.

“I’m… good. Great!” you stuttered out. “I’m on the way out pick out my wedding dress.”

Tom’s smile faded. “I didn’t know. Congratulations.” He said through tight lips.

“Thanks…” you stuttered. “To be fair, it only happened this week.” you chewed on your lip as your stomach did somersaults. You reminded yourself

you were over Tom and engaged to William now.

“I wish you a happy marriage.” Tom continued. He hoped you would end the call before he said something he would regret. “I will tell Benedict you called.” he sighed.

“Thanks again Tom.” you ended the call with a sigh.

Damn that man! You thought as you hung up the phone. You were engaged for fuck’s sake! This was not the time to think about your ex-boyfriend, even if he is the charming Tom Hiddleston. You shook off the nagging ideas and picked up your purse to head to the dress shop.

Benedict came back to the table. “Did I give you enough time to slip the poison in my drink?” he chuckled but his smile fell upon seeing Tom’s dark features.

“When were you going to tell me your sister is getting married?” Tom snapped, taking a big gulp of his beer.

“How in the… um… today.” Benedict stumbled.

“She called. I answered. She wants you to call her later. Who’s the lucky bloke?”

Benedict groaned. “William Robert Harrison. An insufferable stock broker from America.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised. “Is this the guy you call Billy Bob? The one obsessed with the Terminator?”

“The same on both counts. There is something about him I don’t trust.”

“Is it the accent?” Tom chuckled.

“No. But there is this look in his eye. He is up to something. She has the worst taste in men.”

“Hey!”

Benedict waved his hands. “Present company excluded. Which begs the question why are you so upset about this?”

Tom reddened as he turned his attention to the menu. Ben’s eyes widened.

“Are you fucking joking?! When were you going to tell me?”

“Never. I missed my opportunity. She is engaged to someone else. Besides, I don’t think she likes me anymore. Not after the way I broke up with her.” Tom shot back, his glance dropping and his shoulder slumping.

Tom regretted the way he treated you that night in the pub. He had been young and stupid. Now with the sting of a few bad breakups under his belt, he was wiser and kinder.

“Then why does she always ask me how you are you doing when we talk?” Benedict took a sip of his beer, smiling as the red of Tom’s face spread down to his neck.

“Because she is a polite person. Much more so than her brother.” Tom smiled back, his body betraying his emotions.

“Nonsense. I am by far the better behaved Cumberbatch. Now help me break up her engagement.”

“Absolutely not. I won’t do it.”

“Come on, Tom. For me. For her. Where is your romantic side?” Benedict leaned in closer.

“My romantic side remembers your family’s right hook. I prefer to keep my nose where it is.”

“Party pooper.” Benedict slumped back in his chair.

“But I wish you well on your quest to destroy your sister’s engagement and love life.” Tom raised his glass in a toast.

“To broken engagements.” Benedict raised his glass.

“To missed opportunities and misspent youth.” Tom joined.

They both drank. Benedict couldn’t help but notice the pained expression on his friend’s face.

After the meal ended and Tom and Ben said their goodbyes, Benedict fished out his phone and punched in your number.

“It’s about time you called me back.”

“I was at lunch. Tom gives his love by the way.” Benedict lied.

“Oh…? Well, tell him thanks the next time you see him.” you mumbled. Benedict smiled as he could practically hear you blushing through the phone.

“Anyway, you called earlier?”

“I did?” You lost yourself in a set of deep blue eyes in your mind for a moment. “I did!” You caught yourself. “Change of plans. William’s work visa is expiring. The wedding is happening in three weeks.”

Benedict stopped dead in his tracks. “I beg your pardon?! I must have misheard. The wedding is in three weeks?”

“You heard right.” you deadpanned. “And don’t try to convince to not go through with it. I am in love with William. Nothing can change.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Not like you would listen.” He leaned against the building. This news complicated things. “Give my love to Billy Bob.”

“Wanker.” You broke off the call.

Benedict tapped the phone against his chin. He hadn’t expected the wedding to happen so soon. He would need to act fast. But he smiled at the thought of your reaction of hearing of Tom’s message of love.

“Interesting.” He hurried off to brainstorm and make plans to put the end to Billy Bob.

[beatrix-james]

I saw the scars

This is also posted on Ao3, you can read it here https://archiveofourown.org/works/29847555, I wrote this a while ago and just edited it, enjoy! 

3 months.

It had been 3 months and she had never looked more beautiful. It was her hair that had first caught his attention. Red to the average person but to him it was a plethora of different shades one could only see if they looked closely enough.

Harry, of course, had looked very closely and had therefore noticed the way that the sun danced on the strands and revealed the golden highlights hidden beneath the red.

He was still watching her hair now, 3 months later, at Quidditch practice. He could see her shouting at Mclaggen. Merlin, he hated Mclaggen. Always thinking he knew what everyone should be doing. This was their first practice together with him subbing in for Ron and he was acting like a complete twat, this was one of the reasons why he wasn’t on the team normally.

Harry could imagine the angry stare Ginny was giving him with those chocolate brown eyes. The way that the golden specks glimmered when the sun caught them. Harry shook himself back to the present as he concentrated on the practice game. 

Ginny was facing Mclaggen and the goal posts as she gave him an angry speech. He gazed on, flying in midair, at the way her eyebrows scrunched together and she gestured with her hands. He chuckled when she began pointing at her head and he heard her yell, “Use your brain you nitwit! We all know what we’re doing so leave us alone and sort yourself out!” 

Harry was still staring at her as he heard the whoosh of a bludger rush past him, straight for Ginny. He vaguely heard someone call out behind him but he didn’t stop to listen. Without really contemplating what he was doing, he willed his firebolt to go faster than the ball. He didn't really care if it hit him, he was more than used to having a few bruises, he just didn't want it to hurt her. He mentally cringed at how pathetic he sounded.

He watched as he overtook the bludger and stopped abruptly in front of Ginny. He felt a crack in his shoulder and paint shot through his arm. He looked down and thought it looked a little odd, like it was just hanging there. He winced but quickly turned, despite the terrible pain it caused his arm, to see Ginny bump head first into one of the goal posts. She stumbled a bit on her broom and lost her balance. She started flailing about but managed to catch herself quickly enough, although she still looked a little unsteady. Within seconds Harry was there. 

He put an arm, his uninjured one, around her waist to steady her and together they flew down to the ground. Once their feet touched solid ground they looked at eachother. Brown met green. Ginny's eyes seemed to glaze over slightly as she stared at him longer but then they became focused and they darkened.

"What the hell happened?" She demanded.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, searching her up down, using one arm to pat her side a little awkwardly, he had never been great at comforting people.

"Yeah I’m fine, a bit dizzy but it’ll go. Now would you like to tell me what happened?” She said, moving away from him to put her broom against a broom cupboard.

Harry would be lying if he said his hand didn’t feel a little cold from the loss of contact but he shrugged it off, "It's my fault. I knocked into you, sorry.”  He said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh stop with the hero act, you don't have to be so noble all the time, I can take a bludger, I don’t need a man to save me." Ginny said with a raised eyebrow and an eye roll.

Harry smiled back glad to see the colour returning to her face, "I know you don’t need anyone to save you but I wouldn’t have to in the first place if my star chaser had been looking around her." 

Ginny scoffed, ignoring the little fluttering in her stomach at hearing him call her his star chaser,  "Oh please you and I both know McClaggen needed to be told off. I swear that bloody boy drives me insane! Leave it to my git of a brother to get poisoned and make us use Mclaggen." 

Harry stared at her for a second before replying with a grin, "Yeah honestly, couldn't he have waited until the summer when we don't have a match against Ravenclaw? What's his problem?"

Ginny looked relieved that Harry had carried on her joke and she smiled "Well I guess we'll just have to make do with-" she raised an eyebrow at Mclaggen who was talking to a furious Katie Bell about the best way to throw a quaffle "-whatever that is." 

Harry snorted softly, getting lost in the way she ran her hand through the strands of hair that had come loose from the long plait down her back. 

Harry was about to say something when she lifted his arm and placed it on top of her shoulders. He couldn't help but wince as the pain returned to his arm. White and hot. 

He took in a sharp breath and clenched his jaw, trying not to show any other sign of pain.

"Harry? What's wrong?" She asked as she looked up at him.

"Nothing, nothing don't worry Gin let's just keep on walking." He said, giving her a small smile and closing his eyes in an attempt to block out the stabbing pain coming from his shoulder.

"Will you stop that! You're clearly in pain, for merlin's sake Harry let me take you to the hospital Wing!" She said carefully lifting his arm off her. This time Harry made sure to mask his reaction and instead he rolled his eyes at her "Look, I appreciate the concern but I’m fine, really. I think the bludger grazed my shoulder, that's all, it's probably just bruised."

"Bruised my arse, we're gonna go to the hospital Wing and if you don’t cooperate I will levitate you, do not test me Potter." She said with that fiery look she got in her eyes whenever someone- usually boys- tried to tell her she couldn’t do something or when someone challenged her to a race- Harry knew better then to do that.

Once they finally made it to the hospital wing Harry sat on one of the beds as Ginny went to get Madame Pomfrey.  He saw Ron lying a few beds down from him, his chest rising and falling steadily in his sleep. 

Harry briefly contemplated sneaking out before Ginny's words echoed in his head 'do not test me Potter'. He sat back down and waited until she came back with the school nurse.

"Of course it's you Potter. Why is it that you can't even go to Quidditch practice without injuring something." She tutted.

"Me and the bludgers- we’ve got a special connection." He said, nodding seriously at Madame Pomfrey although he snuck a wink at Ginny who rolled her eyes but gave a small smirk as well. Harry gave her a lopsided grin just as he felt a hot pain in his arm again and he closed his eyes, fighting not to wince.

"Definitely broken and the arm has detached from the socket, take off your shirt Potter." 

Harry was in too much pain to properly process what was happening as he attempted to lift his arms but he quickly realised it wasn't going to work. Madame Pomfrey huffed out a breath and waved her wand, his shirt vanished quickly. She walked away quickly to her office to grab some potions and whatever other medical aid she would need. 

Ginny frowned. There were two noticeable things she saw, one, he was very slim. She already knew that, however seeing the outline of his ribs shocked her more than she thought it would. 

Her frown deepened upon seeing thin scars along his abdomen. Some were faded and a pale colour against his dark skin, others looked newly healed. Her thoughts raced as she tried to think of an explanation for the scars but her mind kept coming to one conclusion, a conclusion that made her skin crawl, she felt a cold fury take over her as thought of what Harry could possibly have gone through. 

She knew he had had a… difficult life, to put it simply. She had seen the burns that lined his arms and the odd scar she saw along his neck or leg and of course, his perpetually bruised knees however she had never thought much of it, assuming he was just clumsy and had bad luck.  

At that moment, Harry looked up to her, face tight from the pain. He saw the expression of rage on her face and followed her eyes downward, to his stomach. 

His heart stopped in his chest as he saw what she was looking at. He panicked, no one was supposed to see them. How had he been so careless to let Ginny, Ginny of all people, see them? 

He closed his eyes and concentrated hard on the scars, imagining his skin without the blemishes. They quickly faded, leaving his olive skin smooth as it should be. 

Ginny’s eyes widened. What happened? There were scars there before, she was sure of it. She took a step forward, ready to confront him when-

"Drink this. It’s for the pain.” Madame Pomfrey handed him a steaming purple potion which Harry diligently drank with only a slight grimace. 

Madam Pomfrey traced her wand along Harry's arm slowly, a complicated incantation escaping her lips as she concentrated.  

“I've fixed the broken bones and put your arm back in place but it'll still be a little sore and I'm going to need you to stay the night here." Madame Pomfrey said while bandaging his arm and shoulder and gesturing for him to lay on the bed. 

He lay back cautiously, careful  to avoid too much movement on his arm. “This is a sleep potion, I suggest you take it, it’ll help with the healing process.”

Harry nodded stiffly, eyes not meeting Ginny. Madame Pomfrey handed him back his shirt, which he quickly pulled on and she left quickly after that.  Ginny cast a quick silencing charm around them before turning round to face him again.

“Right what was that?” She said, hands on hips.

“What was what?” Harry asked, eyes still downcast onto his hands.

“Well either I’m hallucinating or you’ve become really good at wandless magic.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw the scars Harry, talk to me.” Ginny said, voice low and gentler than before.

Harry shook his head emphatically, glasses slipping down his nose at the movement. 

“Harry please, I can help you.” She pleaded.

He cleared his throat and then finally looked up at her, there was no emotion in his face, it was a mask concealing whatever he was really feeling. “It’s nothing, really.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Was all she responded with. She needed to get to the bottom of whatever this was.

“Ginny. I said it’s nothing, drop it, please.” He spoke,swallowing hard.

“I’m not dropping it until you tell me what’s really going on.” She crossed her arms over her chest as if to show him that she meant what she said.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” He said, voice rising.

“So there is something to talk about then?” She pressed, hopeful to get something out of him. 

Ginny knew how Harry coped with grief. He shut down, getting trapped in his own head and convincing himself that every bad thing that had ever happened was somehow his fault. He never talked to anyone about whatever he was going through, preferring to take the suffer in silence option. Ginny also knew how detrimental this was to him and she was determined to not let him spiral in his dark thoughts, even if that meant getting him angry enough to shout at her.

“No- I- I didn’t mean that.” He let out a frustrated grown, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses and looking away from her.

“Just tell me Harry! I can help you.” She tried again, losing hope that he would say anything.

Then suddenly his head snapped up to meet her gaze, “Fine! What do you want me to say? My Uncle hits me? Is that it? That when he’s angry he takes it out on me? Well there you go, I hope you're happy.” 

Silence.

Harry's heavy breathing was the only thing breaking the perfect quiet, his hard gaze not leaving hers until he had finished and realised what he said. His breath hitched, hand flying up to his hair from habit.

He looked around quickly to check if Ron was awake or if Madame Pomfrey had heard him.

“I put a silencing charm around us, they didn’t hear anything.” Ginny said quietly. 

She had assumed that he had suffered some sort of emotional abuse from his home life, and after seeing the scars along his body she had come to the conclusion that the abuse may not have just been emotional, but hearing him say it still caused a physical pain in her chest.

She swallowed thickly before taking a seat at the edge of his hospital bed. There were still things she needed to talk to him about and breaking out into tears would not help either of them.

“I don’t want your pity.” Harry said suddenly, looking out the window onto the grounds. 

“I’m not going to give you pity.” Ginny said, following his gaze outside. 

His head turned to look at her immediately, brows furrowing.

“I’m going to help you.” She added, still looking through the glass.

Help him? Harry wasn’t sure if Ginny knew how much those words meant to him, even if there wasn’t much she could do. 

She hadn’t looked at him in disgust and called him weak. She hadn’t said meaningless words, ‘I’m so sorry.’ or ‘Oh no, that must be difficult.’. She hadn’t asked him to recount every time he had been punched or hit by his Uncle’s belt. 

No.

She had offered to help.

“How can you help me?” Harry asked, looking down at his bed sheets.

“I’ll help in any way I can.” She said quietly.

He let out a broken laugh although it didn't last long, “There’s nothing you can do, I have to go back and unless I suddenly lose my magic and turn normal or I don’t know become a cat, they’re not going to treat me any better.”  Even if I do turn into a squib or a cat they probably wouldn’t be any nicer. He thought.

“I’m not going to let them hurt you!” Ginny suddenly said, louder. She looked at him with a fiery protectiveness in her eyes. 

“Gin-”

“No, Harry. I know there isn’t much I can directly do but this is serious-”

“I’m fine, honestly!” He tried to reason with her.

“No you're not! They hurt you! They hurt you, and I’ll make them pay for that even if I have to do it myself, I won’t let you go through this alone anymore.” There was a fierce determination in her expression that almost made him believe it- he wanted to.

He had thought about what leaving the Dursley’s would be like. He imagined it, dreamt about it and finally, on his eleventh birthday, he thought that maybe, just maybe, his dream would become reality. 

When Hagrid had taken him away he had allowed a flower of hope to bloom inside of him, with every new part of the wizarding world he saw, the flower grew and he could almost taste freedom from the house that would never be a home to him. A house that held enough bad memories to give him nightmares for the rest of his life. A house that was more like a prison than a home.

Then suddenly, the flower had wilted. The light inside of him dimmed as he learnt that he would have to return to his prison, every year. 

Sure, it would be better than before, he could threaten them with his magic at first. But then, they found out that he couldn’t use magic outside of school. That had brought back all of the old hatred, diminishing their fears that he may turn them into frogs if they hurt him.

Then came Sirius, a new thing to threaten the Dursley’s with. But of course, that too didn’t work for long, leaving Harry defencless and at the mercy of his relatives. 

“Ginny, I understand that you want to help, but there really isn’t anything that you can do. I can leave after this summer anyway.” I’ll finally be free. He thought- well, free of the Dursleys at least, he still had other worries of course.

Ginny’s jaw tightened as she contemplated what he said. She knew he was right, but knowing that there was nothing that she could do, not much at least, ate away at her.

She hated feeling helpless. It was a feeling she knew all too well. 

After her first year and everything that happened with the diary, her family had coddled her and apologized so many times they could have written a book.

Molly acted as if she was a precious doll made of china that would break if a gust of wind ruffled her hair. She was given no chores, nothing to do, wasn’t allowed to play quidditch with her brothers, no. She was told to “Just sit there for a bit, read a book.” It had driven her insane that she didn’t have control over her life, she hated that after a year of being controlled by an evil wizard she was now being controlled by her family, even if they didn’t mean it, or even realise it.

She wanted desperately to help Harry in any way she could, big or small.

“We’ll find a way.” She spoke, looking into his emerald eyes and grasping his hand in her, “There’s always a way.”

Harry tucked his lower lip in between his teeth as he resumed his gaze out the window. 

“How- how bad is it?” She asked after a moment of silence.

“Depends on your definition of bad.” 

“Harry.” 

He sighed, turning back to her, “It’s not that bad, just a slap every once in a while, nothing I can’t manage.” He tried to keep his tone light hearted.

Ginny didn’t buy it. “You don’t get those scars from ‘a slap every once in a while.’” 

Harry looked back down.

“I’m here for you Harry, I’m not going anywhere. You can trust me.” She said softly, squeezing his hand gently.

It was something in the way she said. They weren’t just empty words that would break once he told her everything, she wasn’t going to leave him.

“It was bad.” He wanted to continue but the words caught in his throat. Ginny said nothing, only giving his hand another squeeze. 

Harry rolled his head back to the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“Sometimes they wouldn’t feed me for days. They’d lock my room and pass leftover food through a cat flap, whenever they remembered, that is. I’d have dedicated time to go to the toilet and shower, that was the only time I was allowed out of my room, other than cleaning and cooking of course.” He spoke of it casually, although admitting the words looked painful to him.

With every word that came out of his mouth, Ginny felt a little piece of her heart break for the young man in front of her. He had never done anything to deserve this life, yet here he was telling her of the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his ‘family’ 

She looked over to  him, in his blue striped hospital shirt that stood out against his dark skin. His round glasses and messy, thick hair. She saw that he was shaking as he spoke and   before she could stop herself, she leant over the bed and wrapped her arms around him, careful to avoid his shoulder. 

She didn’t think that words would have the power to convey what she felt in that moment but she hoped he understood just a little. 

He was stiff against her at first but he quickly relaxed and wrapped his good arm around her back, pulling him closer to her. 

“You’re gonna get through this, and I’m going to help you. I promise.” She whispered into his neck. 

Harry said nothing but she felt him smile into her neck.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Consequences, part 5

Catelyn and Ned decided to walk different ways after their relationship of three years, for good reasons. Ever since that Catelyn have kept a secret from him. When she one day, ten years later, decides that she should tell him they meet for the first time since the breakup. It takes them no time at all to fall back into old habits. The problem is that Ned is married, and that Catelyn is still keeping that damn secret. The only thing they can be sure of is that actions have consequences.

This feels incredibly messy, but I hope it’s worth the read. Enjoy!

“You look terrible” Barbrey Dustin said as she sat down next to her.

Barbrey disliked her for some reason she had never really been able to figure out. And it was easy to tell. She had sounded quite gleeful when she stated how terrible Catelyn looked.

“I’m aware” Catelyn said, not looking up from her phone.

Why didn’t Cersei reply when she needed her? She was usually so unnaturally quick to answer any texts or calls, but she seemed to be stubbornly set on not answering. Catelyn just needed to vent to someone, talk to someone. Get out her frustration. She had not slept a second that night. It had been very hard with everything that was spinning around in her head. It had not taken long. Only a few minutes. And then she had made sure that child number two would grow up without parents in a relationship as well. In the moment it had felt like he had no right to say what he had said. But afterwards, when she had calmed dow, she had just felt terrible. At least the baby would have a father.

“Well, what happened to you?”

“None of your business, Dustin.”

She really didn’t have patience for Barbrey Dustin in that moment. She had enough on her plate as it was. She needed no more. Sometimes she was ungodly tired of her colleagues.

“There’s no need to be rude, Tully.”

“I’m not rude.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

Catelyn had never even wanted to talk to her, she had forced a conversation upon her. She sighed and looked up at Barbrey.

“Better now?”

“Much.”

What has happened now, darling?

Finally!

Too much. Meet me after work?

Robb wouldn’t be happy with her coming home later than she had said, but she had to talk to Cersei. He had tried to get her to tell him what it was all morning. She had been up early and made him pancakes, mostly to prove to herself that she could, but also to make him happy. In a way it was a sort of apology for not letting him have a father, but he didn’t know that. And as they ate he had tried to guess what it was. He had not guessed that it was a sibling, but she supposed that was because he didn’t think it was possible.

I can’t today, I'm with the kids. Tomorrow?

Of course. Why had she not expected that? With her luck she should have seen it coming. But tomorrow was better than nothing, she supposed.

Sounds great

It definitely wasn’t great. It was quite terrible actually. She was supposed to feel happy. She was pregnant, she would have a child. Robb had been the light in her life for so long, and she would have double that light soon. But still everything felt very dark. The rest of the day went painstakingly slowly. She taught her classes, did her job. And she wanted to hit every person that smiled at her. How could they smile at her when everything was going so terribly? Of course they didn’t know about it. They had no idea about how she had started a fight with the father of her children and the only person she had ever loved. She was a sad person. When she came home she was exhausted, ready to go to bed and sleep away the rest of her life. But Robb was waiting for her in the hallway, smiling so brightly. He was almost bouncing with excitement. And for the first time that day she felt happy. It would be fine. It would be. Just Robb’s smile was enough to make her believe that.

“Can you tell me now?” he asked.

“Can I come inside first?” Catelyn said.

He unwillingly backed away and watched silently as she put down her bag and took off her jacket. Her very own little bundle of joy. Soon she would have two of them. And she looked forward to it very much in that moment. She loved her children. Both the one before her and the one she had yet to meet.

“Go to the living room, I will be with you in a moment” she told him. “I promise.”

He sighed very dramatically and made his way to the living room. She looked after him. He looked so much like her. There was almost no trace of Ned in him. He had her hair, her eyes, her face. Maybe Ned would become more apparent when he got older. She hoped not. It was a lot easier that way. And she hoped she would have the same luck with the baby. She hoped the baby would look like her too. But before she talked to Robb she had to get some coffee. She had decided that she would try to lower her caffeine intake significantly for the sake of the baby. But her body was screaming in protest. And her head screamed the loudest. She had not had coffee for breakfast and she had not had coffee during any of her breaks. Which meant a headache straight from the seven hells. Her colleagues had probably suspected something was wrong when she had not been seen with a mug of coffee at all that day. She had come to the realization that she drank a lot of coffee. But one cup couldn’t hurt. She needed that. So it was a huge relief when she finally got her coffee. Everything immediately felt a lot better. And then she went out to Robb, who waited impatiently in the living room.

“That took forever!” he whined.

She sat down and sipped her coffee.

“I’m sorry.”

“Can you tell me now?”

“Okay, but first you need to promise me that you won’t tell anyone until I say you can” she said. “Can you do that for me?”

Catelyn really didn’t want it to spread too far before she got things under control. And losing it would be even harder if everyone already knew.

“Yes, I promise!”

“Pinky promise!”

He did that and then he looked at her expectantly.

“Do you remember what we talked about a few weeks back?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“That day when you were at the aquarium with Uncle Edmure?”

He nodded.

“The day after, when you were going to bed, we talked about something. Can you remember what it was?”

Robb’s face lit up.

“Did you ask Ned to be your boyfriend?” he asked.

She had to keep herself from crying. All he wished for was a dad. And he had been so close to having one without even knowing if. Had she not said it he would have had a dad. Ned would have came to them. But then they had got into a fight instead and there had been no dad for Robb. She had ruined that for him. She had told Ned that Robb was fine without a father. But clearly he didn’t think so. Why had she done what she did? Why could she never make the right decision?

“No. It’s not that, but it’s close” she said, pulling herself together.

Robb frowned for a moment.

“Then I don’t know.”

She took a deep breath.

“You will have a sibling, Robb. I’m pregnant.”

At first he looked at her like he could comprehend what she had said. But then his face lit up once more. She didn’t believe she had ever seen a happier person. His smile. Oh gods, his smile. It could have made even the saddest of people happy. It really did put the stars to shame. She just had time to put down her mug before he launched himself at her and hugged her tightly. With a laugh she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back. Her son, her wonderful boy.

“You’re the best mom in the world!” he said. “Is it a sister? Please say it’s a sister!”

“I don’t know yet, sweetheart. It’s way too early to tell.”

“Okay. But when you know will you tell me?” he asked seriously.

“Of course. I will tell you everything as soon as I know.”

He wriggled out of her embrace and looked at her skeptically.

“But you said you needed a boyfriend to have a baby. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No. But I think we’ll be fine just the three of us.”

“I’ll help you with the baby, I promise.”

She didn’t deserve him. She really didn’t.

~*~

His blood boiled just from thinking about it. What exactly had given her the idea that it would just be fine to keep him from knowing about their child? Their son. That boy, Robb, was his son. And he had not known it. She had raised their son without him. What had he done to her that made her decide that they were better off without him? And then she had the nerve to get upset because he was angry about it. Of course he was angry about it!

“Ned? Where did you go?”

His sister looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“If I tell you something, will you promise that you won’t tell Ashara?” he asked.

He needed to talk about it with someone that could assure him of that he wasn’t being unreasonable. What if he was unreasonable? What if she was right? No, that wasn’t possible. She had no right to do that. He wondered what had been going on in her head that lead her to doing what she had done.

“Why would I tell Ashara anything?” Lyanna said. “I haven’t spoken to her since your wedding.”

“Because if you were a good person you would tell her.”

“If you want to talk to a good person you should go to Benjen.”

Benjen would have gotten Ashara on the phone in about half a second. Ned loved his little brother, but that man really couldn’t stand doing something morally questionable.

“Is that a promise of that you won’t tell Ashara?”

He had to be sure. He really had to be sure. He didn’t want Ashara to hear it from someone else. He needed to talk to her himself. Because he would not leave Catelyn to take care of that child alone. No matter what she said. He wouldn’t go into a relationship with her, he would never forgive her, but he would be damned if they didn’t share custody. The baby was his, no matter if she wanted it to be or not.

“Yeah, can you tell me now?”

“Well, first of all, I’m aware of that what I have done is not good. And I’m a bad person–“

“I get it, you’re terrible, now get on with it!”

Lyanna was always so supportive.

“Okay, I have been seeing someone outside of my marriage.”

That made his sister laugh. And he immediately felt regret over that he had said anything. What had he honestly expected? It was Lyanna, he should have known.

“I knew it would happen” she said. “It’s Cat, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“She’s the only one you would break your wedding vows for. The only one you would be too impatient to get a divorce before seeing. How long has it been going on?”

Ned Stark was apparently a lot more predictable than he had realized.

“Six weeks, I think. Or, well, we saw each other a couple of times during one week and then I heard from her again last night. And that’s where the main problem began.”

“Do tell.”

“She called me and was very upset about something. So I went to her, and I found out that she’s pregnant. And she told me that she wanted to keep it, and I wanted that too. And then out of nowhere she told me that her son, Robb, is mine.”

She had kept that secret for ten years. But he felt that he had a right to tell his sister about his son. That he apparently had.

“I thought that was an open secret” Lyanna said.

“What?”

“I thought you knew. I mean, many have figured it out. She had a baby not even nine months after you broke up and refused to talk about the baby’s father. It was quite obviously you. Still a dick move to not tell you about it though, you have every right to be pissed.”

That was a very mild way of putting it. It wasn’t like she had kept a small secret. It was a child, for gods’ sake! And he had been in that apartment, he had looked at that child, unknowing of that it was his son. He supposed the boy didn’t know anything either. The poor child.

“I just don’t understand why. What did I do that made her feel so bad that she wanted to keep our son from me?”

“You left her, Ned. You were the one who broke up with her. And then you moved. It doesn’t justify anything, she had absolutely no right to keep your son from you. And you have every right to be angry about it. But in her head it probably sounded like an okay plan. I guess she had seen the breakup coming because even I know that you fought a lot and rarely agreed on things, but suddenly just ditching her was probably not what she had expected.”

He wished he could have read her mind, just to get a bit of understanding. At the moment he didn’t understand anything at all, he just felt angry. What Lyanna said sounded reasonable, but it still didn't feel right. He had broken up with Catelyn because that had been the best thing to do for both pf them. He had loved Catelyn, but it wouldn't have worked in the long run.

For a moment he had been happy about that they would have a child together after so many years. And then he found out that she had done that to him.

“She got angry at me when I questioned it” he said. “We got into a fight. And it ended with that she told me that I am no longer welcome in her home.”

She had also said that he was a bad father. That had almost been the worst. She had no say in that when she had kept her son’s father a secret. She was such a hypocrite.

“Defense mechanism” Lyanna chuckled. “I do the same. It feels good to shift the blame when you know that you have fucked up. Anyways, what are you gonna do?”

“I will be there for my child. Robb might technically be mine, but I will never be his father. It has been too long. Catelyn said it, he has no father, and I won’t try to be something I’m not. But the baby. I will be a father for the baby. No matter if Catelyn likes it or not, this is our child, we’ll do this together.”

He would have to cooperate for the sake of the baby. Their baby. He caught himself wishing that it would look like Catelyn. She was a beautiful woman, despite everything, the baby would be lucky to have her looks.

“And what are you gonna do with your wife?”

“Divorce. Catelyn might be a mess of a woman and I don’t think I have ever been angrier at anyone ever, but she made me realize that I can’t stay in this marriage” he said. “Ashara is fantastic, but I can’t stay with her. It’s not the right thing to do.”

Lyanna smiled.

“Look at you making reasonable decisions.”

“Look at me making reasonable decisions. I will talk to Catelyn soon. When she has calmed down a bit.”

He was also angry, but he would never forgive her so drawing it out was only unnecessary. It was better to have it done quickly. The only thing he worried about was that making reasonable decisions would probably be a lot harder when he saw her again. How was he supposed to look that woman in the eye and come to an agreement about how they would do with the baby after what she had said and done?

“Good. Just to make it clear though, your wife has every right to kick your ass. You’ve been a shitty husband recently.”

“I’m aware.”

“And don’t fall into bed with Catelyn again.”

There wasn’t even a small chance of that because just thinking of her made him so angry that he didn’t know what to do.

“There’s no risk.”

“Well, I suppose that if you solved your issues there would be no problem with it. So feel free to do it after you have talked it out.”

“Lyanna!”

~*~

“Oh you look like you need some wine” Cersei said once they had sat down in her kitchen.

She did look like she needed some wine. Unfortunately alcohol brought along the risk of something being wrong with her baby. And she did want her baby to be healthy.

“First of all, it’s a week day, and drinking during week days is heavily frowned upon. Second of all, I can’t drink.”

“Are you pregnant or something?” Cersei scoffed.

It was just a joke, Cersei didn’t at all think that she was pregnant. That was what she always said when Catelyn denied a drink. But the look on her face when Catelyn just got quiet and looked at her was shocked to say the least.

“Wait, are you really pregnant?”

“Yes” Catelyn sighed. “I’m pregnant.”

"With a baby?"

"What else would it be? Of course it's a baby!"

“So are we happy about it or not?”

Excellent question. She was happy about it, couldn’t wait to have another baby. But she had made some not very great decisions and had therefore managed to get into a fight with the father. She had thought of it even more and had come to the conclusion that she was terrible. She had said terrible things and done terrible things. He would never forgive her. She couldn’t even ask it of him. If it had been the other way around and he had asked her to forgive him she probably would have committed a murder.

“We’re happy about the baby. It’s the rest that we’re not very happy about.”

“Congratulations! Okay, so tell me about the rest and why we are not very happy about it.”

“Well, I don’t think I need to tell you who the father is.”

“The same as last time, how fun” Cersei smiled.

“Yes, it’s– wait, I’ve never told you who Robb’s father is.”

Cersei laughed and shook her head. It made Catelyn very nervous. She had not told anyone. Only Ned. How did Cersei know? Had Ned actually told people? And it had spread? Oh no. Oh fuck.

“You didn’t need to, it was obvious. Were you not aware of what an open secret this is?”

An open secret? Apparently she had not been as discreet as she thought she had been. She didn’t appreciate the thought of that everyone knew though. Not at all.

“I wasn’t. And neither was he.”

“Oohhh, did you tell him?”

“I didn’t mean to” Catelyn said. “I was just going to tell him about the baby. And then he started talking about leaving his wife and I panicked and told him too much.”

“So your baby daddy is angry at you?”

“He was angry. And then I got angry back, because once more, I panicked, and in the heat of the moment I said some absolutely terrible things. So he’s not angry, he’s furious and he hates me.”

The look on Cersei’s face was one Catelyn had never seen before and that made her worried. It was bad, in other words. Very bad. If even Cersei disapproved of it, it was very very very bad.

“Yeah, that’s not great.”

Talking about it didn’t make it feel better. It only felt worse. She hated herself a bit. Why had she decided that throwing more fuel on the fire was a great idea? Why had she decided to hurt him more? She didn’t want him to hurt. She wanted him to be happy. So why had she acted like a petty child?

“I don’t even know what I was doing. I had no reason to get upset, he had every right to be angry with me. But for some reason I couldn’t handle that he told me that what I did was wrong. Even though I knew it was wrong, and I regretted it very much.”

“Might I ask about what you said to him?”

She felt herself blushing and looked down at the table. It had been terrible enough the first time, she really had no wish to repeat it.

“He accused me of having hurt my son by denying him a father, and I responded with that maybe Robb was better off that way. And he asked if I meant that he was a bad father. And I told him that maybe I thought he was.”

Cersei actually frowned when she looked up again. Yeah, she was screwed.

“That probably did some damage” she said slowly.

That was absolutely one way of putting it. Catelyn was ready to cry. She wished everything would just disappear. All she wanted was for her baby to have a stable family. A safe home where he or she could be happy. Cersei reached over the table and laid a hand on top of one of Catelyn’s.

“Are you sure of that having this baby is a good idea?” she asked and she sounded genuinely worried. “You’re not old, this is not your last chance.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I have a little less than eight months to try to patch things up with Ned enough to cooperate with the parenting thing.”

They would be no more than parents to the same child. She had made sure of that, even though it had not been intentional. And that was fine, as long as it worked with the child. She was just happy they would have some sort of contact. And she would have opportunity to try and set things right. Because she would.

“It seems very messy. Maybe a child is not really the thing you need right now. I will support you no matter what you choose to do, of course, but I want you to really think it through. When we talked about it a while back it sounded like what you wanted was a partner to have it all with.”

Or a child was exactly what she needed.

“I have thought it through. I want it. And Robb is already picking out names.”

They would work it out. They would never be what they had been before, but they could probably manage to take care of the baby. That she was sure of. Even though she wasn't sure of much else.

“Then I’m happy for you.”

The smile was back on Cersei’s face.

“Thank you.”

“Do you know what names Robb is thinking of?”

He had already decided on what it would be named if it was a girl. Sansa. And she had promised that she would make sure of that Ned was aware of that there would be no debate surrounding the name. If it was a girl her name would be Sansa. He was still deciding on what it would be named if it was a boy though. But he would pick that name too. There would be no debate about that either.

“Sansa, if it’s a girl.”

“Sansa” Cersei repeated. “It’s cute.”

“It is, I like it a lot” Catelyn agreed. “I think that’s what it will be.”

“Are you hoping for a girl?”

“Yes. It doesn't really matter, but Robb really wants a little sister.”

A little sister, a daughter. Sansa.

~*~

It would have been better if she had been angry when he told her that he wanted to divorce. He wouldn’t have felt quite as terrible about it if she hadn’t been accepting. She was accepting. She actually just sighed. There was nothing more about it. It only took them a few very undramatic minutes of conversation to come to the agreement that their marriage was over. Ned couldn’t really put words to how he felt. It wasn’t quite relief. But in a way it was. They had had some good years together, but he wasn’t sad about that it was over. And Ashara didn’t seem to be that upset either. But of course he had not told her about the rest of it. Because that would probably upset her.

“Well, there is nothing I can do. I’m just glad you told me before it got bad.”

It wasn’t bad. It probably never would have become bad. But at the same time they couldn’t continue. It didn’t feel right at all.

“I wish you everything good in the world, Ashara. “But I can’t give you that. So I think it’s better if we end this here.”

She looked at him and if felt like she was seeing right through him. That just by looking at him she could see everything he had done. Or maybe it just seemed that way because he was well aware of all the ways he had wronged her.

“There’s something you haven’t told me” she stated.

“Yes, there is” he confirmed. “And I want you to know that I won’t ask you to forgive me for it, because it is unforgivable.”

“It’s that red headed lady from a while back, isn’t it?” she asked. “What was her name again?”

The complete lack of anger in her voice startled him. There wasn’t any emotion at all in her voice. Just acceptance. Why couldn’t she be angry with him? It would have been easier if she had been angry with him. But she wasn’t. She seemed to handle it perfectly. She was perfect. And still he had let her down. She did deserve a lot better.

“Catelyn. Her name is Catelyn.”

Ashara shook her head and smiled. It wasn’t a smile of happiness, it was a smile filled with frustration. She was angry. That was just her way of being angry. Her rage was a calm one. A silent one. But it was just as dangerous as Catelyn’s storm.

“I should have known. The moment you looked at her I should have known.”

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“You’re an ass” she said. “I wish I could kick you out of the house right now. But I won’t, for Jon’s sake. I hope you’re happy with her though, so that this wasn’t all for nothing.”

She would definitely kick him out once he was finished. Because, gods, there was more. There was the baby. As if just cheating wasn’t bad enough. He had always believed himself to be a decent person, in the last weeks he had proven that he was a bad person and an even worse husband.

“I’m not leaving you for her, there won’t be anything between us. And I’m not done yet.”

“Are there more than her? Are you not leaving me for her, but for someone else?”

“Not like that.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

Telling her about Robb was unnecessary. That had nothing to do with it. But she would get to hear about the baby sooner or later anyway, and it was better that she heard it from him there and then. So that she could be spared from it later.

“Catelyn is pregnant. And she wants to have the baby.”

“You got her knocked up? You better take care of that child. I hate her, but if you cheat on me and then leave her alone in the mess you helped create I’ll have no choice but to kick your ass.”

He did deserve that. Very much. But he would take care of the child. It was his child just as much as Jon was.

“I will ” he said.

“Good” Ashara sighed. “At least you have some sort of redeeming feature. Gods, I wish murder was legal.”

“I don’t think anyone would blame you if you did it.”

“Probably not. So now I will take a walk to calm down a bit so that I can be sure of that I won’t kill you in your sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.”

“You do that.”

~*~

“Dad will disinherit you” was what Edmure had to say about it.

Catelyn snorted.

“I’m pretty sure he disinherited me after Robb, so there’s no need to worry about that. And I think Mom will advocate for actually letting me inherit at least something.”

Her father had not been very happy about that she would have a son even though she hadn’t been in a relationship. He had tried to bribe her into telling him who the father was and failed. But from the way he liked to spoil Robb rotten it wasn’t easy to tell his disdain for her son’s status as a bastard. Her mother had not been too hard about it though, she had actually been very supportive.

“I find it very funny that his golden child ended up being such a disappointment” Edmure chuckled.

“All three of us are disappointments, Ed.”

If anything she was probably the least disappointing of her father’s children. It was hard to believe, but she actually thought that it was true.

“The difference with you is that he had hope for you.”

“I have a finished education. That’s more than you can say.”

“I’m married. Beat that.”

“Yeah, but I have given him a grandchild and if I’m not unlucky there will be one more.”

“Outside of marriage though. Important point.”

Just as she was about to answer that the doorbell rang. She was definitely not expecting anyone so it was probably a friend of Robb’s. But the door to Robb’s room stayed shut so it seemed like he wasn’t expecting anyone either.

“Wait a minute” she told Edmure.

She went to the door, opened it. And almost froze when she saw Ned outside. She had known that he would come, but she had not expected him to come so soon. She had thought that he would take longer after what she had said and done. But there he was.

“What are you doing here?” was all she could get out.

Last time she head seen him she had been so angry that she couldn’t find words for it. But at the moment she just felt ashamed. She couldn't even imagine what he was feeling.

“You’re pregnant with my child and I thought that maybe we should talk about it.”

“Catelyn?” Edmure shouted from the living room. “Who is it?”

She turned back to Ned.

“It’s a bad time right now. Can we take it another day?”

Ned looked at her for a second.

“I would really like to take this now.”

She would have to kick Edmure out, in other words.

“Fine” she sighed.

He came inside and she went back to Edmure.

“You need to leave” she told him.

“Why?”

“Because I have more important things to do.”

That grin that she hated so passionately immediately turned up on his face. Was he aware of how incredibly punchable his face was when he did that?

“Hello, Ned!” he called out.

It took about half a second and then Robb’s door opened and he poked his head out.

“Is Ned here?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes, Ned is here” she said. “But you need to stay in your room.”

“Why?”

“We need to talk alone for a bit. You can come out soon, I promise.”

Edmure laughed as he got up from the couch.

“While he’s at home? You have no shame, do you?”

“Mom, what does he mean?”

Catelyn wanted to sink through the floor. She could feel herself blushing. If it was with embarrassment or with anger at Edmure she didn’t know. It was probably a bit of both. She had not told Edmure about the fight, therefore his... reaction. She still wanted to murder him though.

“Edmure, please, for gods’ sake” she said. “Just leave.”

He had come there to pick up a scarf that Roslin had forgotten when they had dinner there a week earlier. But of course he had stayed longer than necessary because that’s what he very often did. He just never left.

“But what did he mean?” Robb asked again.

“I meant nothing, Robb” Edmure said. “Now listen to your mother.”

That clearly didn’t satisfy Robb, but he accepted it anyway. And for that Catelyn was very thankful.

“Fine. Bye, Uncle Edmure!”

“Bye, Robb.”

And then Robb closed the door again. Edmure exchanged a few words with Ned as he left, but she couldn’t hear what it was. Probably unnecessary nonsense if Catelyn knew her brother. He was full of unnecessary nonsense.

“Why did you so desperately need to talk about this now?” she asked when Ned came into the living room.

It was very annoying that he thought that he had a right to come to her home and demand her time. Not that she had been doing anything important, but still.

“I was afraid of that if I didn't do it now I wouldn’t be able to bring myself back anytime soon.”

“And why is that?”

“Just looking at you is hard.”

She had to bite her tongue in order to hold back the ten different stupid responses that immediately popped up in her head. She had spent way too much time with Edmure.

“I understand. And I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?” he asked.

“I am. I know that it won’t make anything better, but I am sorry. Very sorry.”

It was true. She was sorry. She shouldn’t have acted the way she did and she was aware of it. But no apology in the world would make up for it. Unfortunately.

“That’s always something” Ned said dryly.

She sat in an armchair, but he seemed determined to stay on his feet.

“Have you spoken to Ashara?” she asked.

“Yes. She’s planning murder.”

“As she should.”

“As she should” he repeated. “But it’s decided. We are going to divorce.”

“Good for her.”

Catelyn knew absolutely nothing about that woman, but everyone deserved better than what Ned had given her. She was also officially a home wrecker. Maybe Edmure had a point in saying that she was a disappointment.

“I guess you will want the baby with you the first months” Ned began.

“There will be no discussion about that” she confirmed. “You can come visit, but she’ll live with me.”

“That’s reasonable. Should we take a week each after that?”

She wished it could have been some other way. She wished she could have had her daughter with her always. But Ned was also her parent. And he also had a right to see her and take care of her.

“I’ll have to agree to that.”

Catelyn really didn’t like the feeling of that they were in some sort of business meeting. Negotiating terms for an important affair. In a way that was what they were doing, she supposed. And it was very important. But she didn’t like the formality. And she didn’t look forward to taking care of an infant child on her own again. She was perfectly capable of doing it, but that didn’t mean that she would like it. She would have to though, unless...

“But what if we did something completely different?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Ned asked, sounding very suspicious.

Well, he had every right to be. He could shoot it down if he thought it was a bad idea. He probably would think it was a bad idea. He wouldn't want to be closer to her than necessary. But she could at least put forward a suggestion, there was no rule against that. 

“I know you hate my guts, but what if we lived together purely for the sake of helping each other with her?” she said, beginning to realize just how crazy he though she was. “Hear me out, I’ve done the whole taking care of a small child alone thing, and it’s extremely draining. Maybe it’s good to be two.”

“Purely for the sake of the baby?” Ned asked, and he seemed to actually consider it.

Maybe it hadn’t been a terrible idea, after all.

“Yes. Nothing else. Just to make it easier.”

Robb would love that. Living with Ned. It wouldn��t matter to him that Ned wasn’t her boyfriend, as long as he could have a dad. Ned probably wouldn’t object to that. And it would give the baby a more stable home the first years or so. It would be good for her.

“Will you give me some time to consider?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

“I suppose it’s too early to talk about the rest.”

“A bit, yeah. But at least we have a few things clear. I’m sure that by the time we can meet her we’ll have it all fixed.”

“You keep saying ‘her’ and ‘she’, we don’t know if it’s a girl yet” Ned said.

“No” she said and smiled. “But Robb and I are hoping for a girl. He has already picked a name. You’ll have no say in that.”

Ned snorted and she thought that she could see the hint of a smile in his eyes. That was always a step forward. At least he didn’t look at her with burning hatred anymore. She didn’t dare to hope for much, but maybe the future was a bit brighter, after all.

“Can I know what that name is?” he asked.

“Sansa.”

“Sansa” he said. “I like it.”

“Good. Because that will be your daughter’s name.”

“And if it’s a boy?” he asked.

Robb had wanted to pick that name too, but they had to think of the rest of thier dysfunctional little family.

“I might be able to convince Robb to let Jon pick the name if it’s a boy.”

“I’m sure Jon would be very happy to do that.”

“How has he taken it?”

She had not thought much of Jon, but she did then. And she pitied the boy. She had broken up his parents’ marriage. One day, when he was older, she would have to apologize for that. But maybe a half sibling was a bit of a comfort. Or maybe he hated it. He probably would.

“We haven’t told him yet” Ned said, and suddenly he seemed like he had the weight of the world upon his shoulders. “But he’s too little to understand more than that Ashara and I will split. It will make him upset, but it will probably get even worse when he’s older and actually understands.”

“He’ll hate me” she said.

She didn’t feel particularly sad about it, she had no relation at all to that child. But he would also have to stand out with her, because she would be the mother of his half sibling. The poor boy. She had not really reflected upon what her relationship with Ned had done to others. But she understood more and more with every passing day. And she had realized that she had been a happier person before.

“Maybe. He’ll probably hate me too.”

“I suppose it’s only what we deserve.”

“Yes.”

They looked at each other, and Catelyn found that she couldn’t quite turn her eyes away. They did deserve it. They deserved to face what they had created with their own questionable decisions. But at least they would face it together. As it was supposed to be. She did love him. But he hated her. And that was torture, but she would have to live with it. Both of them jumped when Robb threw open the door to his room and came out.

“Is he Sansa’s dad?” he asked.

Once more he was at it with not saying hello and instead jumping immediately to the questions. And he had already started referring to the baby by the name he had picked. He thought that it was more likely to be a Sansa if he called it Sansa.

“I am” Ned responded and he did have patience enough to smile at him.

“Cool!” Robb said. “Can you be my dad too?”

He just had no limits.

“Would you like that?” Ned asked surprised.

Catelyn could see exactly how much was running through his head in that moment. Did he want to be a dad to Robb? He had sounded like he wanted it. But maybe that had just been the heat of the moment.

“Yeah, I’ve never known my dad, but I think it would be fun to have one.”

Catelyn could just watch it happen, she didn’t really know what to do. She couldn’t interfere. And she really was hoping for that Ned would agree to her suggestion about living together.

“And you can take care of my mom. I think she’s a bit lonely.”

“I think your mom can take care of herself” Ned chuckled. “She’s tough.”

“Thank you for that” Catelyn sighed.

“You know, Robb. We’ll live together soon. You, I, your mom, Sansa, and every other week, my son Jon.”

She looked at him, couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Does that mean you agree with what I said?” she asked.

“As you said, it’s easier to make it work that way.”

“So I will have two siblings and a dad?” Robb asked and Catelyn was pretty sure of that he had never been happier.

He looked like he could have burst with happiness. Her little bundle of joy. She loved him so much.

“I suppose you could put it that way” Ned said.

He seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by Robb’s reaction. She didn’t blame him. Many were a bit overwhelmed by Robb. But he was also very lovable. She had never met someone who didn’t like him. Robb almost knocked her over with his hug.

“Thank you, Mom!”

“Oh my dear boy.”

She was close to tears at that point. She was quite often close to tears. She blamed hormones. Once Robb had let her go and bounced back into his room she followed Ned back to the hall.

"Don't think I've forgiven you" he said and looked at her with something she could only descibe as some sort of disdain. "Because I haven't. It's purely for  the kids."

She had not thought it to be anything other than that. But hearing it from him still hurt a bit. She could admit that much to herself.

“Would you like to talk about it?” she asked.

“No” he responded. “Not right now. There’s enough as it is.”

He was right. They would probably just fight again. It was still too fresh. And they could really do without another fight. For the sake of the kids. They would have time later. If he wanted to.

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon, then.”

“Yes.”

“Goodbye, Cat.”

Knowing that it wasn’t their last goodbye, that they would see each other often, made her more hopeful about the future. They had fucked up lots and lots of things. But maybe they could attempt to set some of them right. And, he was back to calling her Cat. Yeah, maybe things would be alright.

“Bye.”

~*~

Having a dad was every bit as fun as Robb had imagined it would be. He liked Ned very much. Sometimes he got a bit distant though, Mom said he just was that way and there was no reason to worry. Because Robb had almost thought that Ned didn’t like him. And that would have been quite terrible. His little sister was not as fun, she mostly ate and slept and screamed. She screamed really much. But she was quite cute, and she had the same hair and eye color as Robb. And they had named her Sansa, like he had wanted. So she was okay. Sometimes he helped Mom with her and that was actually a bit of fun. His new brother was okay as well. He was very shy though and he rarely wanted to play with Robb. And that was really boring. And for some reason he didn’t seem to like Mom that much. Robb couldn’t understand why. Mom said it was because Jon had a different mom than him and was sad his mom and dad didn’t live together anymore, so Robb should not be so hard on him. He wasn’t hard on Jon, he just wanted to play. But he was a bit younger than Robb, maybe he woukd be more fun when he got older. Robb hoped so. And for some reason Mom and Ned were not together. They lived together, but they had different bedrooms and they didn’t act like a couple. It was very weird. Robb had thought that they would be together since they had Sansa, but they were not. They seemed to like each other though. He had tried to ask Mom why she was not together with Ned, but she had just told him that it was hard to explain. He didn’t like it when she got all adulty and told him things were complicated and hard to explain. It just seemed like an excuse. Because she did like Ned, he was sure if it. And Uncle Edmure said so too. And he would make sure of that they got together. If it so became the last thing he did, he would make sure of it.

[dettiot]

Fic: late-night interruption 3/?

late-night interruption 3/? Author: dettiot Rating: G (for now) Summary: When Obi-Wan receives a late-night comm from Sabé, he’s not sure what to expect. But what he learns will change many lives . . . and the fate of the Republic.

Also available on AO3!

XXX

Despite her high rank and all the honors she had achieved, Padmé Amidala had experienced plenty of pain in her life. Emotional pain was most prominent: when her planet was invaded, when her people gave their lives to protect each other and her. When she had to pretend former colleagues were no longer friends when their systems became part of the CIS. When she had to lie to her family and friends. When Cordé was killed. 

There had been physical pain, as well: trudging through the desert on Tatooine. Falling out of the transport on Geonosis. Being hungry and thirsty and exhausted to a breaking point. 

But none of those events had prepared her for childbirth. 

“Breathe, Senator,” Healer Gahan said, holding Padmé’s hand. She could feel the suction cups on the Mon Calamari’s hand as she squeezed it. “Easy does it, Senator,” she reminded her. 

“I--I’m trying,” Padmé panted, trying not to lose her temper. 

She felt like her body was being slowly split in half, inch by inch. The baby was insisting on coming now, so early--was it was too early? What if something was wrong? And worst of all, Anakin wasn’t here and Sabé hadn’t been able to make contact with him. 

Where was he? 

The contraction finally eased and Padmé slumped back against the pillows, letting go of Healer Gahan’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, moving both her hands onto her extended belly. 

“It’s quite all right, Senator,” the healer said, her large, glassy eyes shining. “Your body is under great stress. But everything is going well. I’m going to review some data from your file, and then take another look to check your dilation. All right?” 

Nodding, Padmé did her best to smile. “Thank you.” 

As the healer stepped out of the room, Sabé entered, her eyes immediately locking with Padmé’s. 

“Did you get through to Anakin?” Padmé asked quickly, lifting her head to hold her friend’s gaze. 

“Not directly,” Sabé said, stepping over and picking up a glass of water to hold it to Padmé’s lips. “Drink some of this.” 

She took a sip but wouldn’t let herself be distracted from the matter at hand. “What do you mean, ‘not directly’?” 

“Your suggestion about contacting Master Kenobi was a good one--he said he would alert Anakin himself and they would be here as quickly as they could. But it will probably be about five hours,” Sabé said, holding the glass to her lips again. 

Frowning, Padmé tried to push away the glass, but Sabé insisted, “Drink a little more and I’ll explain everything.” 

Rather than argue, since it would be useless to do so, Padmé drank some more and then looked at Sabé with an arched eyebrow. 

Her friend took a seat on the edge of her bed. “I told Master Kenobi that I needed to talk to Anakin, but he wouldn’t put me through to him. So . . . I told Master Kenobi that you needed him here, because the baby was coming.” Sabé paused, then said, “I also told him that you and Anakin are married.” 

Padmé stared at Sabé, before letting out a quiet groan. “What?”

“I’m sorry! I had no idea that Master Kenobi didn’t know--I didn’t think Anakin would have been able to keep such a big secret like being married from him, especially not once you were going to have a baby,” Sabé said, sounding equal parts regretful and annoyed. 

Sighing, Padmé lifted a hand to her forehead, covering her eyes. 

“I really am sorry, Padmé.” 

“I know you are,” she said, lowering her hand and reaching out to take Sabé’s. “It’s all right. I always thought Obi-Wan should have known, but Anakin wouldn’t hear of it.” 

“I wonder why,” Sabé said. 

With a shrug of her shoulders, Padmé took a deep breath as she felt another contraction gaining strength. “I don’t know. Whenever I encountered Obi-Wan before I got pregnant, I always thought he suspected something was going on between Anakin and I. But now he knows.”

“I don’t think he suspected anything like this,” Sabé said, gesturing towards Padmé’s stomach. “Although I think he was more surprised about the marriage, to be honest.” 

That was interesting, Padmé acknowledged to herself. But the pain gripped her body again, making her squeeze Sabé’s hand tightly, and all she could focus on was what was happening to her. 

Oh, Anakin, get here quickly . . . 

XXX

Getting jerked out of a sound sleep by his master wasn’t something that happened often to Anakin Skywalker. Well, no–Obi-Wan had woken him up plenty of times, when there was a battle at hand or a mission to leave for. But having his master’s feelings reach through their bond and shake him awake?

That was new. 

Waiting for Obi-Wan to reply to his comm felt like a lifetime. And his anxieties weren’t eased when he saw Obi-Wan, who looked pale even in the blue holo-display. 

“Obi-Wan? What’s wrong?” Anakin asked, leaning closer to the display as if it would make his master’s face easier to read. 

But then Obi-Wan spoke and Anakin felt like nothing made sense anymore.

“Your baby is coming and your wife wants you there.”

Padmé? The baby? Now? That--that couldn’t be good--it was so early--but the baby! The baby was coming! They’d find out if it was a girl or a boy and finally settle the argument he and Padmé had been having. 

But--but what about his nightmares? What if--what if Padmé was in danger? How could he save her if he was on a ship hundreds of lightyears away from her? He needed to get to her--now!

Suddenly, as if a bucket of ice-cold water was dumped over his head, the worry and fear and excitement was wiped away. Because it had just registered on Anakin exactly who had given him the most important news of his life. 

Obi-Wan knew. Obi-Wan knew that he had violated the Jedi Code. Not just violated--smashed into pieces. Which meant Anakin had disappointed the man who was the closest thing to his father, brother and teacher. The last person Anakin ever wanted to disappoint. 

And Obi-Wan was incredibly disappointed. Disappointed, worried, confused. But swamping all those emotions was the hurt. 

His master wasn’t one to reveal his feelings. Even in the Force, Obi-Wan kept himself under tight control. From his earliest days, Anakin had delighted in those times he could make Obi-Wan break his rigid discipline. When he was young, it was to get Obi-Wan to laugh--really laugh. As he grew older, Anakin pushed and prodded Obi-Wan to admit he agreed with Anakin on something. No matter what, Anakin treasured seeing the real Obi-Wan, not the perfect Jedi Master. 

Now he was really seeing his master for the man he was. And that man was incredibly hurt by Anakin’s actions. 

“Obi-Wan–” Anakin said, searching for the words to make this better. To make him understand that he hadn’t wanted to keep these secrets from him, but–but Obi-Wan wouldn’t have understood. After all--he was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ideal Jedi. He gained his strength from the Force, he didn’t let his emotions sway him, he fought against attachment. He had walked away from the woman he loved for the sake of the Order. And he had watched that woman die and had just kept going, without pause . . . 

No, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have understood Anakin’s feelings.  

He would have understood, a voice in his head whispered. A voice that sounded like his mother.  

Before Anakin could mess up any more than he already had, Obi-Wan held up a hand. “Sabé contacted me when she wasn’t able to reach you. She said Padmé is receiving excellent care, but she wants you there for the birth of your child. I will alert the Council that a matter has arisen that you need to deal with. You can take the Resolute to Coruscant while I proceed back to the Outer Rim.” 

“Obi-Wan, you can’t--you’ll need the 501st in the next battle. I don’t need to take the Resolute, I can get on a shuttle and go by myself,” Anakin protested weakly, because he wasn’t sure what else to say. Not when Obi-Wan clearly did not want to talk about his feelings, even as those feelings were overwhelming his attempts at shielding. There was so much guilt and regret inside Obi-Wan . . . 

“I’m sure the Council will provide me with any necessary assistance,” Obi-Wan said. He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was slightly softer. “I will not tell them the reason for your absence.” 

Anakin swallowed. How many times had they been in this position? With Anakin letting down Obi-Wan by his choices? How many times had Anakin apologized and vowed to do better, both to Obi-Wan and himself? And yet, he kept making the same damn mistake over and over again, not trusting Obi-Wan, assuming his master, his father, would shun him for what he had done. 

Not trusting the Council, not trusting politicians--that made sense. They would punish him to exert their power over him. But would Obi-Wan really do the same? Anakin had lost track of the number of times he had thought about telling Obi-Wan the truth about Padmé, about the upcoming baby, but he had always held back. 

He had always been too scared to be honest with him. But maybe . . . maybe it was time to stop being so scared. Not when he knew--really knew--how Obi-Wan felt. 

For kriff’s sake, he was about to become a father. He--he needed to be better. And that had to start now. 

“Obi-Wan–I’m sorry–” he said, trying to inject as much sincerity into his voice as possible, only for Obi-Wan to interrupt him.

“I know you are,” Obi-Wan said, his voice still soft. “But that does not change your actions, and I . . . ”

His voice trailed off, a flash of emotion spiking through the hurt. Anakin felt his mouth go dry as he realized it wasn’t just hurt and guilt on the verge of consuming his master.

It was envy. 

Obi-Wan was envious of Anakin, for having what Obi-Wan didn’t have: a wife and soon a child. He had never realized his master might want those things, too. He thought Obi-Wan had made his peace with leaving Satine, had even accepted her loss, but . . . 

“Obi-Wan, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you–that I didn’t tell you about me and Padmé,” Anakin said quickly, the words pouring out of him, his face heating from the embarrassment and shame. “I just–I thought you’d be mad or upset and I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want to disappoint you. Or make you have to tell the Council how much I’ve messed up. But–but that was wrong of me, and I’m sorry, and–and you don’t have to tell the Council anything, I’ll comm them and tell them everything and I don’t care what happens, I’ll tell them you didn’t know anything about this, you’ll be safe, you’ll be–” 

“Like kriff you’ll do that!” Obi-Wan roared. 

XXX

The vehemence in his voice--the volume of his protest--surprised Anakin, Obi-Wan could tell. His padawan actually jerked back, shock washing through his Force sense.

To be honest, Obi-Wan was a bit surprised, too. Because this wasn’t the first time Anakin had stumbled over his words as he attempted to apologize for some action or another. There had been several times that Anakin had made promises, only to break them in the heat of the moment. But Obi-Wan knew that in Anakin’s judgement, his heart was always in the right place. 

But Anakin had never radiated such sincerity, such remorse, as he did right now. And the thought of Anakin throwing away everything in order to protect him . . . 

He couldn’t let him do that. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing a hand over his face. “Do you really think I could tell the Council what you’ve done and not fight for you to remain in the Order? I couldn’t. I would forgive you anything. And if you don’t realize that, if you don’t realize how proud I am of you, my brother . . . ” 

That was what hurt the most. That Anakin just assumed he would go to the Council, without talking to Anakin first. That he assumed Obi-Wan wouldn’t be able to forgive him for his mistakes and his choices. 

It hurt the most, and made Obi-Wan question everything that had happened since he began training Anakin. Made all those old insecurities and doubts and fears come to life again. And they were so strong, so powerful, he wasn’t able to hold them back behind the walls he had built within himself. 

Because . . . Anakin was married. He was about to have a child. And Obi-Wan hadn’t known any of it. Certainly had suspected Anakin of a partiality towards Padmé, but this? 

Was it part of being the Chosen One? To be able to make such choices, to be so certain he was doing the right thing? And was it part of being the merely competent Jedi that Obi-Wan was that when he was in the same position to make such choices, had made such a different choice--even though his heart was just as taken as Anakin’s?

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said, wiping at his eyes to brush away a tear. “I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan. I just . . . I was wrong. So wrong.” 

The guilt was rolling off Anakin in waves. It was exhausting, how much Anakin felt. Perhaps that was why Anakin was able to do what Obi-Wan couldn’t. He loved so much and so deeply, how could he attempt to hide it? 

Obi-Wan just felt so tired. Exhausted to a point where he couldn’t act like his normal self. 

“It’s all right, Anakin,” he promised him. 

Anakin shook his head. “No, it isn’t. We . . . we have a lot to talk about, I think.” 

“We do,” he said, nodding in agreement. “But . . . most of it will have to wait, of course.” 

“Until after the baby,” Anakin said, his face lighting up. It was all Obi-Wan could do not to covetously, vicariously live through Anakin’s emotions. Because that sweep of excitement and joy, with a bit of fear . . . it was enough to make Obi-Wan wonder what might have been. 

He felt so fragile. Like a fine ceramic with a hairline crack. With just the slightest amount of pressure applied in the wrong place, he might shatter, with no one to repair him. Because who would care to put back together a broken, tired Jedi like him? 

This was why he wouldn’t let himself think about his past. About all the choices he might have made and how those choices might have turned out. Because the thought of his life being better than what he had . . . it wasn’t proper for a Jedi to have such thoughts. They reflected too great an attachment to specific people, a lack of respect for the here and now . . . 

“You … you could tell the Council we both have a matter to attend to,” Anakin said quietly, hesitantly. Like he wasn’t sure what Obi-Wan’s reaction would be. 

He blinked, staring at Anakin’s blue-tinged expression. 

“So you could be there when the baby comes,” Anakin continued, taking a deep breath. “I would–I would really like you to be there, Obi-Wan.” 

Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair, feeling a knot in his chest loosen. Anakin wanted him there? Not out of pity or obligation, but . . . simply because he wanted him there?

“You would?” Obi-Wan asked softly, not sure he believed Anakin, even though he couldn’t read anything in him to make him discount his sincerity. “But . . . this is something for family . . .”

“I know,” Anakin said, looking him straight in the eye. “But you and Ahsoka and Padmé are my family. The Council can send anyone to the next battle--but right now, Padmé needs me. And I need you.” 

For once, Obi-Wan had no interest in hiding his reaction. He tilted his head to the side, smiling slowly, feeling like the bright light of hope was clearing up the dark clouds of hurt and doubt inside him. 

“You really mean that, Anakin?” he asked, because those dark clouds weren’t fully gone.

“I really mean it--of course I do, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, smiling widely. 

“Then . . . yes, all right,” Obi-Wan replied, feeling the warmth of Anakin’s Force presence sink into his bones like the sun. 

And it felt so good. To be on the same wavelength as Anakin, for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever? Obi-Wan didn’t know. He just knew he liked this feeling. 

Perhaps he wasn’t as broken as he thought he was. 

“We need to contact the Council and inform them we need a leave of absence,” Obi-Wan said. “Rex and Cody can command the 501st and 212th just as well as we can.”

“Better,” Anakin said with a grin. “They’re not half as reckless as we are.” 

Letting out a quiet chuckle, Obi-Wan nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll contact the Council. You can prep a shuttle and come over to pick me up.” 

“Sounds good,” Anakin said, his grin fading a little. “Hey, Obi-Wan?” 

“Yes, Anakin?” he asked, sensing a turn in Anakin’s mood. He was more serious, more resolved. 

“There’s . . . there’s something I wanted to talk to you about, on our trip back to Coruscant,” Anakin said slowly, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. 

Before he could assure Anakin that he would be happy to listen and help, Anakin rushed on. “I’ve been having dreams about Padmé dying in childbirth.” 

End, Chapter 3

[renlimotroll]

Darling, my dreams came true

⚠️ Warning: BL/ Personification/ Imagination/ Out of Character/ Cursing ⚠️

Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with boyxboy.

A/N: I wrote this during ungodly hours, so there might be grammar errors. I’m so stressed with work and this happened. This story was born as I was talking to my friends about my MinSiru imagines and listening to Aimer. Also, this is just my imagination, so please don’t take it seriously.

Enjoy! 🤖🐶

Love, Ren 🌻

Summary: When he’s sleep-deprived, Siruko gets weirdly affectionate, especially towards a certain green head. Everyone knows what’s going on, but of course, Siruko is the last to know about his actions and feelings.

Pairing: 🤖🐶

AU where Bintroll are still youtubers but they live in the same house.

(Story continues below)

It was a great day. The sun was shining warmly outside, and Siruko feels well-rested and refreshed. He stretches then gets up, deciding to check his notifications later and get brunch first. He can smell coffee and something delicious coming from the kitchen. With his luck, Mintosu could be cooking curry and wouldn’t that be the best brunch ever.

He doesn’t know why he felt disappointed that it was Ichihachi cooking, but Ichihachi-kun’s pancakes smells and looks really good so he grabs a plate and forks a piece. Siruko wasn’t aware of the knowing eyes that were watching him carefully as he prepares his coffee. Since Siruko seems to be not fully awake yet without coffee, he didn’t notice how Ichihachi, Quartet, Jiraichan and Hakotaro were side-eyeing each other in a silent communication.

After he had at least drank half of his cup and felt more alert, the purplehead finally noticed the weird atmosphere at the dining table. “What?” He asked. Jiraichan was smirking, Quartet was making weird faces, Ichihachi was looking at everywhere but him, and Hakotaro look so done already even though Siruko doesn’t know for the life of him what he has done to earn that exasperated look on his younger brother. It’s way too early for this. “What?? Shouldn’t I be receiving morning greetings instead of… whatever this is??”

“Well, you certainly have a good morning, don’t you?” Jiraichan raised his eyebrows teasingly.

“Chotto, Jiraisan,” Ichihachi warned.

Siruko was bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, Siruko-san! Good morning!” Quartet quipped a little too brightly.

Siruko glared at them suspiciously. “Good.. morning.”

“Oh for goodness’ sake!” Hakotaro shook his head and rolled his eyes heavenward. “Niisan, your shirt!”

“Aww there goes our fun.” 🐻

“Way to go Hakotaro.” 🐰

“I wanted to wait and see if Siruko-chan notices it himself.” 🐱

Siruko blinked and followed his younger brother’s words to see.. he was wearing something green. Very green. Something that suspiciously does not belong to him and very particularly belongs to someone else. His face turns bright red like a tomato.

“I-it’s not… I-I’m not… W-we’re not…!” If he could spontaneously combust like a DbD generator with a missed skill check right now, he would. Siruko instantly knew what his friends were thinking and they were wrong!!!… or were they? He’d know if something happened, right? As far as he knows he didn’t really go drinking. He was editing videos and… he does remember Minben-san not letting him drink any more Red Bull, but that was it. He did feel dizzy and queasy yesterday with his migraine, but he didn’t throw up on anyone, right? What the hell happened last night??

Hakotaro rolled his eyes so hard for the second time already even though it’s still early. His older brother was so hopelessly trying to solve what happened that he can practically see equations and formulas appearing from thin air. “Save it Niisan. We all know that–”

“Aaaaah--!” 🐻

“Hakotaro–” 🐰

“Stop–!” 🐱

“When you’re extremely tired, you go to Mintosu-senpai and do… I don’t know what to call that… skinship??” For once, the usually sure-of-himself Hakotaro was at loss for words. “You’re just so affectionate it’s so out-of-character, and you literally have to have some body part of yours touching him! You slump on his back, on his shoulder, on his lap, which, by the way, stopped being funny after the fifth time and just started to become so gross now.”

“F-fifth time??” Siruko definitely did not squeak with a high tone.

Ichihachi cleared his throat. “We stopped counting after the tenth time. And Minben-san always carries you to bed when that happens. He makes a show of complaining about it, but he drops everything he’s doing just to come to your aid.“

“T-t-that..’s n-n-not.. I- uh.. I..”

Jiraichan made sympathetic noises. “If it helps, we’re actually wondering why you can control yourself better when you’re drunk. It only happens when you’re really, really exhausted, like when you’ve stayed up for more than 30 hours.”

“I– what?? S-skinship??”

“You almost punched Quartet-san once because he was trying to make you go to bed and he tried to, and I quote your words, ‘separate Minben-san and I apart!’ ” Ichihachi supplied unhelpfully.

“I– what??” Siruko.exe stopped working and can only ask one-word questions now. It took him a few seconds to process this, and another few to actually believe it. Why are they telling him these... lies?! This can’t be true, right? And why is he only finding out about this now?! Siruko is really starting to re-think considering them his friends, because they’re enjoying this way too much, and they are set on ruining his otherwise perfect morning.

“There goes the bet.” Quartet said nonchalantly, as if talking about the weather.

“BET?? WHAT BET??” Nope, Siruko did not screech. That was a manly scream.

“We guessed you didn’t know you were doing it and we’re right.” Jiraichan explained with a smug smile. “We kinda have a betting pool as to when you’ll realize. Until your dear brother..”

“I’m just sick and tired of this, okay? It’s been a year!” Hakotaro threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Niisan, if you like Minben-san so much then just go confess to him!”

‘W-WHAT??! I-I DON’T–“

“Everybody knows, Siruko-san.” Jiraichan informed him mercilessly, like the psycopath he is. “Us, Hanae-san and the others, even the old lady in the market selling fruits. Everyone.” He put his finger to his lips and looked thoughtful. “Except Minben-san.”

“I–what?” Siruko stammered for the third time.

Hakotaro took pity on his brother, who was doing a perfectly good impression of a Magikarp. “We’re just saying, Niisan, this madness has to stop. You turn into a cuddle monster around Minben-san when you’re exhausted, and the poor man gets a heart attack every time you do. It’s driving all of us crazy, so if you really love your otouto, you’ll get over yourself and confess. Or so help me, I’ll find a locker where I can push the both of you in so you can talk about your feelings!”

“I don’t really do that, do I?” Siruko bit his lip worriedly. He went to the house of the one person in this world who wouldn’t betray him, hoping to get some clarity and possibly some remedy for this whole mess.

“Well…” Gzira look pained to admit it. “Remember when I had to stay overnight last week to help you with Hanachan’s video?”

“Yeah?” Siruko bit his nails nervously.

“You were so tired you were mumbling the theme song of Doraemon.”

“So?? That’s not weird, you know?”

There was an awkward pause, before Gzira resumed. “Backwards… you sang it backwards. It was kinda impressive.” Siruko whined like a child upon hearing that. He’s so close to having a mental breakdown. Why didn’t anyone tell him this? Friends, his ass.

“I was honestly worried and I kept telling you to take a rest, and when I woke up the next day I found out you were still awake. I had no idea what to do, you were so stubborn! So I called Hakotaro over. He said, ‘There’s only one solution to this’ then walked out. When he came back, he brought Minben-san with him.”

“Oh no,” Siruko groaned in despair, feeling his whole face and neck burn with humiliation.

“Yeah. Want me to go on?”

“Ugh.”

“You smiled at him so tenderly and hugged him.”

“No. Stop.” Siruko buried his face in his hands.

“And you called him ‘cuddliest robot ever’. And you practically climbed all over him like a koala. It was so weird I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. Like I wasn’t in the right dimension.”

“Mou, Gzira-kun!” Siruko screamed into his hands. So much for the peace of mind he was hoping for.

“Then he carried you to your bedroom. I don’t know what was weirder, you reverse piggybacking him like a beetle on a tree, or Minben-san actually letting you do that.”

Siruko sulked. No way this happened. Although, there was something he was curious about. “What.. what did he…“ he asked, knowing that Gzira would get his message.

“Okay, don’t freak out, but he did look fond. Like, he liked carrying you to bed. I don’t even think he noticed Hakotaro and I standing awkwardly at the side because he was just looking after you. He even patted your hair. He practically melted when you started nosing his neck.. eww by the way.” Gzira made a face, remembering the scene which seemed so domestic.

“Umm…” Siruko could not believe what he was hearing. He… he did that? And Minben-san… did that?

Gzira continued. “Weirdest experience ever. Hakotaro said it was a regular thing. I got surprised when he said that the only person who could convince you to go to bed when you’re past the 30-hour mark was Minben-san. He even included me on the betting pool.”

“I hate you.” Siruko crossed his arm grumpily.

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” He sighed in defeat.

“Look, why don’t you just tell him how you feel? It’s been a year, don’t you think you’ve been harboring these feelings for a long time?”

Siruko can’t even begin to imagine the horror. “No way! Minben-san… he’d never like me that way!”

“Why not?” Gzira challenged.

“You know! I’m just a regular guy! I’m not even good at anything! There’s no reason for him to like me!”

“Siruko-san…” Gzira scolded his friend tenderly. “Stop belittling yourself! You’re the smartest, kindest person I know–okay, well maybe Sensei is that too–but you’re a pretty neat person! Anyone would be lucky to have you!”

“You’re just saying that coz you’re my friend.” The purplehead pursed his lower lip out.

“No, I’m saying it because it’s true. And as your friend, I want you to stop overthinking things and just, just try to tell him what you feel, okay?”

“What… what if he rejects me?” Siruko whispered sadly.

Gzira sighed internally. He loves his friends, but sometimes they’re just… too dense. He just wished this pining would stop so they can all be happy. “You guys are so perfect for each other, you’re both oblivious idiots. Just trust me on this. Minben-san’s got it just as bad for you as you for him.”

Siruko wished he could believe him, but he just can’t. Dreams are just that… dreams. Like fairy tales are fairy tales. There’s no way that Mintosu would fall for him, and even though that thought hurts, it’s the reality. Mintosu liking him was just… a fantasy after all.

Yes, everybody was wrong. Siruko grumpily mashed his keyboard, trying to clear the level on the game he was playing and failing miserably. His character kept on dying, and it’s frustrating. Once his character got stuck somewhere between two walls, he decided to give up and shut down his computer. He stared at the black screen reflecting himself.

There’s no way Minben-san would like him. Look at him. There are big dark circles under his eyes, his hair was always messy, and he’s thin as a tooth pick. He doesn’t go out of his room that much, he’s not even that good in games, and the only thing he’s good at is maybe memory games. That’s so lame, right? Unlike Mintosu’s friend, what was his name again? Akoroshi. Now that is a talented guy. Knows English, good at singing, really good at games. It’s just impossible. That’s why he never confessed. He couldn’t even begin to compare with that guy. And what if Mintosu rejects him? Then the friendship he tried so hard to treasure will be gone, it will be awkward as hell since they are all practically homesharing, and maybe he’ll lose the only connection he has with Mintosu. So no way. He’d never confess.

It was a bit hard to avoid Mintosu because you know, housesharing, but Siruko feels like he’d done a pretty good job. He thinks he’s done really well in monitoring if he’s reaching 30 hours of no sleep or managing his exhaustion levels so that no embarrassing thing could ever happen again. He had to vigilantly avoid doing things that was second nature before, like falling asleep on Minben-san’s shoulder during movie night or hitting each other’s knees while playing Mario Kart, because they were just friends! Only friends! It was probably awkward for Minben-san to help not carry him to bed, and maybe the guy was doing it out of some friendly obligation or guilt, and Siruko never wants to put anyone in a situation like that where one forces his friends to do something for him. He keeps his distance now, toning down his actions to just behind the friendship lines, and plasters a smile on his face while pretending he doesn’t see the confused, slightly hurt looks Mintosu was showing as he avoids him.

It was almost successful and he could probably live like this for the rest of his life (hiding his pain) until his so-called beloved friends, his family even, corners him in the kitchen, the place where it all started. Siruko should seriously consider finding his own place to live.

“You’re being very ridiculous right now Siruko-san, and I don’t have much patience for ridiculousness.” Jiraichan says in a tone that means he’s about to pull out knives from his jacket. Very pointy knives that he likes using. “It’s bad enough the bet was cancelled. That was the only thing keeping me from locking you two in a vault and welding the bolt shut so you two can finally make out.” Siruko flushed red when the images came to mind, but shook his head. It was just a stupid fantasy, it didn’t make his heart clench painfully at all. Nope.

Quartetchi followed up immediately. “Sorry Siruko-san. It was fun when there was a bet in place, but now it’s just annoying. You two are the biggest pair of dense idiots in the world.”

“Look Niisan, before, you and Minben-san just irritated me when you both flirted with–”

“We do not–!!” The older brother interrupted indignantly.

“Yes you do!” Hakotaro almost raised his tone in frustration. “You bicker like an old married couple, and as much as it irritated me to see my Niisan and my senpai flirting but not even knowing they do, now it feels like whatever sanity I still had has just gone and you both are being so… so… gaaah!”

“What Hakotaro means to say is,” Ichihachi tried in a gentle tone, “you guys are playing the biggest game of chicken in the world. It was fun when we could tease you both about it and make money out of your hopeless romantic-ness, but now that we can’t, we need you to get your heads out of your asses and do something about it or we will.” He threatened calmly.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about!” Siruko raised his arms wildly in desperation, his voice breaking. Why can’t his friends just leave him and his misery alone? “Minben-san and I are just friends! What do you want me to do?!?!”

“Oh my god Siruko-san!” Quartetchi complained. “If I didn’t love you as a friend I’d bash your head in that marble sink! How can you be this dense? Aniki’s been walking around with this sour, grumpy face like someone set his PC on fire, and you’re acting like a hurt puppy! A hurt, cruelly-kicked puppy! This has to stop!”

“Mintosu-san LIKES you, Niisan!” Hakotaro emphasized on the like. “How could you miss that? How do you not see--”

“He doesn’t!” Siruko crossed his arms stubbornly. “He’d never! Why would he–”

“If you finish that self-depreciating sentence, I will take out my mines and let you explode right there!” Jiraichan narrowed his eyes. Siruko gulped.

“Okay, that’s it! I’m done. Guys help me.” Quartet suddenly hauled Siruko’s arms up, and Ichihachi grabbed both his feet and lifted it up. The Bintroll leader yelped in surprise and tried to struggle, but Jiraichan and Hakotaro glared at him with that ‘If looks can kill’ face, and he can’t really do anything, not unless he wants to drop like a sack of potatoes to the floor painfully. Jeez, the grips of these two are so tight!

They dragged him upstairs to Mintosu’s room, where he was streaming APEX. Jiraichan opened the door with a bang so loud Mintosu jumped from his seat and hit his knee on the table. Hakotaro grimaced internally, that looked painful. Mintosu let out a string of profanities that shocked his viewers.

“What the fuck’s goin on??!”

The viewers were all alarmed and the comments flew so fast in the chat stream, all wondering what happened to their favorite green robot gamer. Bloodhound died, and Mintosu had to return to the main screen. Suddenly, a purple blob was dumped into his lap and a scream of pain was heard. Mintosu winced and turned off the mic.

“What the fuck guys?! I told you not to come in when I’m–” oh. Siruko-san. Siruko-san was on his lap, grimacing in pain at being dumped unceremoniously. Mintosu’s brain short-circuited and he could only blink.

“Minben-san, my Niisan likes you. A lot. And we know you like him too. I know you think you’re being subtle when you think Niisan’s not watching, but we’re not idiots like him. We know. Everyone does.”

“I- what…” Mintosu unknowingly echoed Siruko’s words from before.

“Just kiss already you idiots!!” Jiraichan yelled with his high-pitched voice. For all his size, he’s really scary when he’s angry. “C'mon guys, let’s go!” The pink fairy stomped angrily and headed out, while the others followed suit. At least Quartet and Ichihachi had the decency to apologize. Siruko thinks he needs to find new friends, they’re so rude!

Before Hakotaro closed the door, he glared daggers at Mintosu, “Look, I can’t say I like the idea of you making out with Niisan, but you make him happy, so please keep doing so. If you ever hurt my Niisan, I know Limone-sensei and everybody else will help me bury your body where no one can find it.” Mintosu nodded, believing the younger one will totally do that. Siruko flushed red upon hearing his brother’s shovel talk.

"I’m really happy if you guys finally get together, but please remember to get your hands off of each other and keep the PDA to a minimum, at least when I’m around.” And with that, the blonde closed the door. The silence that followed was really uncomfortable, and Siruko prays, Ground, swallow me up!!, wondering if it was possible to die out of humiliation.

“So… umm…” Min-san sees the flow of comments asking where he is out of his peripheral view, but he couldn’t care less, not when the person he’s been crushing on for a long time is blushing so hard on his lap right now, and he looks really adorable. Mintosu had wanted this. For so long. If this is a prank, he’s going to kill those guys. But he wants to believe that maybe, just maybe, he has a chance.

Siruko stubbornly refuses to look at him out of embarrassment, and Mintosu just rolls his eyes, even though he’s flustered too. Whatever, he thinks, because he’s never going to let Siruko go after hearing that. He rearranges him in a more comfortable position and mutters, “Okay, before I start the stream again, I’m gonna get this out. I like you, so fucking much, so after this we’ll talk and maybe get some food. Now, stay still and stay quiet.” Mintosu shakes his head to rid of his jitters, places his fingers on the keyboard and mouse, and turns his mic on. “Sorry bout that minnasan, there was a little bit of a commotion, just the bintroll guys messing around, but everything’s fine now. Really fine!! In fact, I’m feeling so good today, I might even get diamond today! Watch out! Hahahaha!” And the fight is on.

Once or twice, Siruko tries to wriggle his way out, but frankly Mintosu feels very warm around him, and being encased around his arms just makes him feel all sorts of giddy and calm at the same time. Mintosu just growls softly when Siruko tries to move so he gives up and watches his.. wait–are they boyfriends now?– maneuver Bloodhound perfectly and get a few kills. This is so embarrassing but at the same time, it’s all he ever wanted. He’s so happy he could just burst. Part of him wonders if he’s dreaming, but that dump was really painful so this must be real. Mintosu rests his chin on his shoulder, and any disbelief of reality he has disappears quickly, because that weight on his shoulder can’t be fake. Soon Siruko feels very sleepy and warm, and even though his heart still feels like it will burst out of his chest, maybe, just maybe, he can start to believe that Mintosu actually likes him back. Mintosu is actually warm and surprisingly comfortable even though he’s talking gibberish and laughing loudly in his ear, and Siruko starts to nod off against the gamer’s chest a few times. He doesn’t understand why he feels sleepy, but he can just always blame Minben-san later.

He blinks blearily when Minben-san carefully slots him into his bed, and the green guy turns off the lights and covers them with his blankets. It smells like detergent and Mintosu and home, and this isn’t the situation he had always imagined being on Minben-san’s bed, but it’s not that bad especially when Minben-san pulls him in and drapes his arms over him for a cuddle. Minben-san without his glasses always makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter, especially now that they’re so close he can practically feel Minben-san’s warm breath and heart beating loudly in his chest. The thought that Mintosu also feels whatever he is feeling is strange but comforting.

“Minben-san,” he whispers, so as to not disturb the electric peace in the atmosphere of the room, “they said we’re idiots.”

Mintosu chuckles and Siruko really likes it when he does that. “Maybe we are. Is that why Sensei keeps telling us that?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s because we’re idiots in another sense.”

“Tashikani.”

“So… you’re not into… Akoroshi-san?”

“What? No way! Yuck! I’ve never been interested in him that way! He’s just my best friend, that’s all.” Mintosu pauses. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Mmmmmm, maybe...?” Siruko sheepishly mumbles.

“Idiot.” He flicks Siruko’s forehead, resulting into the purplehead pouting cutely. Mintosu thinks he wants to kiss him, but he’s also content with this right now. “It’s you I like. A lot.”

“Why?” Siruko sounded so unsure and lost. Mintosu hates that. He knows that the purplehead tends to be insecure sometimes, which is absolutely absurd. If he could only see that everyone loves him, he would never second-guess himself.

“I just do. Honestly, why wouldn’t anyone? You’re amazing and everything. If anything, I thought you wouldn’t like me.”

Siruko starts to chuckle and Mintosu joins him. “Okay, maybe we really are idiots.”

“Right.”

“And for your information, I like you too. A lot. Actually, maybe I love you.”

Mintosu snorts. “Okay, then ‘maybe’ I love you too.“ Siruko smiles sleepily at that, and Mintosu’s heart skips a beat or two. “You know, you actually told me these a few times before, but I thought you were just being delirious or maybe hallucinating. You’re an idiot who really needs to sleep more.”

“As if you do! You’re just as bad as me, maybe even more!” Siruko wrinkles his nose angrily, and Mintosu thinks cute. “But.. really? I said that? That’s… embarrassing! Why didn’t you say something?”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna take anything your sleep-deprived brain says seriously. Once, you talked about giant ducks and how they’d take over the world one day. You mumble so many weird things, you idiot.”

That… was definitely weird. He can’t really blame his friends for staying away from crazy, sleepy him.

“Plus, well, maybe I like sleepy, idiotic Siruko-san.”

Pink dusted his cheeks. He can’t believe that Minben-san really put up with all of that craziness, but it did lead to this now, and Siruko decides to just stop doubting everything and take whatever happiness he can get. “Whatever. Sleepy Siruko likes you too, so shut up.”

Mintosu huffs, but his fingers run through his purple hair, and that feels really good. Siruko really wants to savour this moment, but his eyes are getting droopy and he doesn’t think he can keep them open.

“Sleep.” Mintosu orders softly.

“Hmmm…” Siruko answers sleepily. “Good night Minben-san.”

Well, what do you know, dreams do come true after all.

It was a great day. The sun was shining warmly outside, and Siruko feels well-rested and refreshed. Mintosu was cooking curry while he was preparing the coffee pot. Nothing really changed after last night, they still bicker a lot and tease each other to death, but this time, there are more leaning-to-each-other and maybe more skinship between them. It was a good morning. The four other Bintroll members were watching the strange love-hate interaction with fond but exasperated eyes.

“Anyone wanna have a bet? I’m betting six months before their first kiss.” 🐻

“C'mon, give them a little credit.” 🐰

“They wouldn’t have made it if Hakotaro didn’t interfere.” 🐱

“Yeah, and I would have won the bet.” 🐻

“No, you wouldn’t!!” 🐰

“Hmm… my bet is a week.” 🐱

“Uh, no way Ichihachi! It took them a year to tell each other that they like each other–actually no, without our help, it would have taken more than a decade! You really think they would kiss in a week?” 🐰

“Yeah! Just place your own bet!” 🐱

“But–” 🐰

Hakotaro drowned them out. Sometimes it’s really tough being the only sane member of this household, but this is family, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s happy as long as everyone is happy, even though everyone is an idiot.

“Finally.” He sighs to himself, seeing his brother and his senpai smiling, and moves to break up the ongoing fight between a kiss that’s really not their business.

It was just a normal brunch in the Bintroll household, but everyone is laughing, and this is happiness. Siruko really appreciates this second family he has, and if he moves to hold Minben-san’s hand under the table, well, sue his boldness.

“Ne~ aishiteru~” he says in his heart.

[A/N: I hope you guys like it! It’s been a year since I last wrote a story and my skills are a bit rusty haha. Also, it’s my first time posting a story on tumblr! It was fun coding but also so frustrating! My good friend cm made the pic! Thanks cm! Visit me on Twitter! Anyway, have a nice day! Panyanyanda!]

🌻

Owari~

[cowboyshit]

Stay the Night

I started writing this lil ficlet awhile back, right around Revolution. I decided to write a purely smut-filled one-shot just for indulgence sake, where a FOC would basically use sex to "take care” of Adam and make him feel a little better. Since I like using FOC’s who I’ve already established whenever I can, I figured Fawna Rose from Some Real Cowboy Shit fit the bill for this one perfectly. There’s a little angst as we catch up on why these two aren’t together, but for the most part this ficlet is purely self-indulgent smut.

Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Fawna Rose (FOC)

Summary: After their initial encounter, Adam and Fawna started to get close. Close enough that she was pulled in to the storm of his insecurities and, not able to handle the idea of not being the only man in her life, they decided to stop seeing one another. However, the night after Revolution, even though Adam and Kenny won and beat the Young Bucks, Adam finds himself holed up alone in his hotel room, drinking. Lonely. He makes a stupid, drunk decision and despite what unsolved aches lay between himself and Fawna, he decides the only thing that can help him is the chance to see her again.

Rating: NC-17 (Gratuitous smut)

Warnings: Alcohol use, smut

Length: 5,982 words

Available below the cut

There was still a ringing in his ears. An ache in his chest. No matter how much he drank, he couldn’t get it out of his head. The footage on the titantron in front of him. Matt, Nick, and Kenny. All three poised to superkick him after he and Kenny won the tag team titles. 

Kenny. The man who held the other half of the tag team titles alongside Adam himself.

But it was supposed to matter that they didn’t kick him, right?

That’s what he kept telling himself. Beer after beer. Shot of whiskey after shot of whiskey. It was becoming apparent that no amount of drunkenness was going to ease what was burning in his heart and that was when, drunk, a careless, reckless, and absolutely stupid idea popped into his head.

There was a sharp and sudden clatter as his clumsy, big hand swept a little too hard and tipped one empty beer can to crash into three more, sending them bouncing off the coffee table and onto the floor below. He muttered a curse and looked at the mess, noticing a few splatters of beer had spilled out and were soaking into the carpet. Unable to care enough to do anything about it, he made a nose of discontent in his mouth that was something like a grumble and returned to what he’d been trying to grab: his phone.

The bright screen made him wince as he unlocked it, but he soldiered on, mind set on one conquest and unwilling to give in until it did what was necessary. He navigated (with difficulty) to his contacts, scrolled, and clicked her name.

FAWNA ROSE

Their last text conversation popped up, long bubbles of thoughts they’d sent back and forth over a month ago, and her last words to him shone vivid and bright. He knew what they said – he’d read this conversation enough to memorize it – but he still forced his eyes to focus and read them again.

If you can ever find it in your heart to accept my situation, I’m here. Until then, I don’t think we should talk or see each other anymore. We’re just hurting ourselves by dragging this out Adam, and it isn’t fair to either of us. I care about you.

 I care about you.

He sucked in a hard breath and held it, broad chest lifted and lungs slowly beginning to ache. His eyes ran over those four words one more time and he exhaled in a heavy, sudden breath. Too drunk to think through what he was doing he clicked her name, clicked audio, and clicked the button to call her. He held the phone against his ear and stared wordlessly out the window from his hotel room and tried to keep his breathing low and slow. He didn’t know what he was going to say when she picked up (if she picked up). He didn’t know why he was calling.

 Yeah, he did.

The phone clicked and the ringing stopped but didn’t roll into the voicemail recording. She was there on the other line, but she hadn’t said anything. He pressed the phone a little harder to his ear, wanting her close, wanting to hear her breathing. His lonely heart ached and not just for the way he missed her, but for everything. For himself. The loneliness that chased his lashing out at men he’d once called brothers. The emptiness that no amount of alcohol seemed to fill, try as he might. The sting at the words echoing back at him in real time, with Nick’s and Matt’s voices, joining that of his insecurities and making it all harder to fight and to ignore.

“Adam?” She spoke first after enough silence passed between them.

He inhaled, tried to say something – even something as little as a hello – but found his throat was suddenly too tight to work anything through it at all. That air he sucked in hitched, betraying the shaky way he was struggling to hold his composure.

“Text me your hotel and room number, okay?” There was a gentility to her tone that stung his eyes with tears and made him pinch the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb to hold them at bay. The ache inside was a chasm ripped asunder and it begged to be filled with the care she so freely gave him. “Adam?”

“Okay,” he barely managed to speak, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat after and tore the phone away, ending the call with his heart pounding hard and his inebriated mind spinning.

After sending her the hotel and his room number, Adam glanced around and lumbered to his feet. His large frame swayed with instability, but he started to snatch and shove discarded towels and clothes around the room in an attempt to tidy up. He wasn’t necessarily a slob, and it was hard to make a hotel room messy after just a day when you spent your time in it completely alone, but drunken carelessness had him less clean than he’d normally be. He knew Fawna worried about him, too. Wouldn’t do for her to come in and see a bunch of beer cans lying carelessly around.

He didn’t call her because he wanted her pity, nor did he want to be lectured.

They’d gotten close after their first encounter. Close enough that she knew what he was going through. Close enough that when he started letting the fear of everyone close to him turn on him become true, he’d taken that out on her, too. Because he didn’t like that someone he was beginning to get real feelings for was already married. Because he was already feeling inferior everywhere else in his life, and no matter how many times she explained polyamory and her unique situation, he couldn’t shake the voice in his head that reminded him with her, he’d always be second.

 Always second.

He was so tired of being second. Or third. Or fourth. Or fifth.

When the fuck was it finally going to be time for him to be first?

There was a knock on the door and Adam jerked, realizing he’d been standing in the middle of the hotel room, holding the television remote, staring off into space as he drifted in and out of painful, misery-fueled thoughts and inebriated numbness. Shaking himself back to reality he glanced at the remote, frowned, and set it on the hotel entertainment center before making his way to the door. His weight lurched and he struck a palm on the door to steady his body and keep from toppling over. It was then he realized he hadn’t thought to put on a shirt and hesitated, just briefly before he slid his hand down the flat surface to the handle, pulling it open and glancing down his front at her.

Seeing her after a month of no contact brought up feelings he didn’t have the mental stability or sobriety to process. He sucked in a breath and tried to think about what to say, but his drunk tongue took over and robbed him of the chance to save face.

 “I miss you.” His brow pinched, and he swallowed back hard.

“I know.” She said, but gently, like she was cradling him carefully, minding his current fragility to keep him from shattering apart. Her autumn brown eyes on his put butterflies in his stomach and made him sway where he stood. Did she see the way she affected him? “I miss you too.” She admitted, volume a little smaller, like she knew she wasn’t supposed to say it but understood how badly he needed to know that. He felt guilty, then, making her go against everything she’d explained to him about how they couldn’t see one another unless everyone was on-board and okay with their situation.

He worried she was going to ask him if he’d changed his mind. His bleary blue eyes jumped with sudden sharpness between hers, waiting for it.

 “Can I come in?” She asked instead, gesturing to the hotel room behind him he was blocking with his thick figure.

 “Oh, yeah.” He said quick, stumbling back and out of her way. Adam held the door as she walked inside and then turned to close it, back to her as he tried to sort through everything and get a better hold of himself. Calling her here had been a drunk mistake, but he was still too drunk to take responsibility and send her home. He had her here. He needed her.

Adam turned around, hoping when his gaze met hers, he’d have a stroke of brilliance and know just what to say. “Fawna, I –”

“Shh,” she said, effectively quieting him as he frowned in confusion. Fawna drew close enough to lay her palm over his heart, and a smile tilted the edges of her full, sinfully kissable lips. “I can feel how hard your heart is beating,” she whispered, and it sounded like a roar in his ears with the way his blood rushed.

 “Wait. I can’t do this to you.” He’d lifted his hands to pull hers off him but let his fingers curl around hers and was holding her hand between them. “I still don’t think I like the thought of sharing you, I just…” Words failed him because he knew he was wrong. He knew it was wrong to ask her to stay anyways, to let them keep complicating things because he just wanted to feel good for a minute.

He was using her the same way he used alcohol.

 “Adam, it’s okay.” She said, surprising him. He frowned at her and she slowly pulled her hand away from his. 

She pressed her fingers onto his chest and though she didn’t have the strength to physically move him, he allowed himself to be moved at her insistence and stumbled backward until she had them turned with his back pointed toward the bed. When he glanced questioningly at her, she raised one dark, shaped brow as if to say: Do you really want to fight me on this right now?

It was easy to give in since it was what he wanted. Adam let her guide him backwards until he fell on the bed, and when he tried to speak as her hands went to his belt buckle, she clicked her tongue with gentle chiding and let their eyes meet.

 “Let me take care of you tonight, Adam.” She said.

Fawna waited for his nod, and relief swept immediately through his body. He laid back on the pillows and breathed hard through his nose as she released the tension of the belt, snapping the buckle and pulling the strap through. The sound of his jean zipper tugged down overpowered the jingle of her leaving his belt undone, and he groaned deep in his throat as she slipped her fingers beneath the elasticity of his boxer-briefs and wrapped her fist firm around his cock. The blood was rushing to fill it quickly, and he pressed his chin to his chest and watched with desperate eyes as she gave him that little smile that claimed innocence even as she behaved licentiously.  

 “Ohh,” he squeezed tight passed clenched teeth, “fuck.” A quick hiss sucked air hard into his lungs as she dipped and put her soft, wet mouth over the head of his cock and slipped him down her tongue. His body tensed and his hips arched upward, greedy, stuffing more of his inches and stretching her lips wide around his girth. His fingers curled and dug hard into the comforter over the hotel bed and his eyes, wild, jumped over the top of her head and watched her please him.

 A desperate, shaking hand unclenched the grasp it had on the comforter and moved instead for her hair. He pushed the strands out of her face, wanting to have a clear line of sight to his cock bulging her cheek at the same time he felt it running between her tongue and the warm, ridged roof of her mouth, the tip pushing between the warm wet walls of her throat before she pulled back up. His groans filled the room and mixed with the little wet noises of her lips and tongue servicing his cock.

 A little pop as she pulled up off his head, sucking back the saliva that left it glistening.

 “Feels good, baby?” She purred, and Adam’s fingers slipped to frame the back of her head, curling tight around the strands.

 “Mhm,” he grumbled, nodding as he pushed her head down, eagerly wanting her mouth on his cock again.

That soft, wet tongue of hers knew just how to stroke the skin, just where to curl and flick the sensitive lip of the head of his cock, and as badly as Adam wanted to keep watching her he was victim to the way his eyes rolled back in his head. Fingers still curling in her hair – pulling the strands a little too hard, his knuckles gone white – he pushed her down further and further, stuffing his cock inside her warm mouth until her lips kissed the base. He felt her struggle to hold his cock so deep and pictured the way they’d look from the side, where he’d be able to see the bulge of its shape down her throat. She choked again, body jerking, tender, wet skin squeezing his girth and making him moan deep in his chest.

Adam’s eyes snapped forward and he released the pressure of holding her down, watching as she slipped quickly up, little bits of spit bridged between her lips and the head of his leaking, desperately red cock. As she brushed the saliva away, Adam’s eyes traced the wetness glistening over her eyes and admired the way they shone in the soft white hotel light coming from the bedside lamp. He liked it like this - lights on - able to watch and see everything.

Fawna curled her fingers around his erection and used her spit and his precum as lubricant as she stroked with perfect pressure. Adam’s chin jutted outward, jaw clenched tight as another desperate, heavy moan ripped through his lungs and pressed between his teeth. She bent and he felt the tip of her tongue run down the blood-filled veins of his shaft toward his balls, and when she latched her lips around them and sucked the tender skin of his sac he made a desperate sound and curled his fists hard into the sheets at his side. Sweat dappled his forehead, sticking his crown of blond curls to his skin.

“Oh fuck, Fawna, baby,” he panted heavy and fought to keep his eyes forward when all they wanted to do was roll back again.

“Mmm, mhmmm,” she moaned and murmured while still sucking and licking the most sensitive, pleasurably spots, fingers rolling over the tingling, needy head of his cock. She sent vibrations through his cock as she did it and caused him to glance desperately down his body toward her head bent between his legs. 

“Wait, wait,” he breathed heavily, like he’d just finished performing an intense match in the ring, his large sweat-damp and lightly blond-hair dusted chest rising and falling with staggered breaths. As Fawna slowly pulled her mouth off him and looked with confusion, Adam was sure to move quick and shoved at his denim jeans to push them further down his thighs. He wanted them off, same with his boots and socks. Once Fawna realized this she pushed his hands away - she’d said she wanted to take care of him - and undressed him herself. 

She slipped off the bed and when his glazed eyes followed her with helpless confusion she answered with a little curve to her smile and slowly started to undress herself. “Stay put,” she commanded with a sweet murmur, and practically peeled the material off her skin inch by inch until his blood was roaring in his ears and the beat of his heart was pounding distinct enough to count. His fingers curled into the reprieve of the comforter again, needing to grab something since she’d told him he wasn’t allowed to reach for her. Hungry blue eyes nearly gone black, void of any softness they could otherwise have, ate up his delectable little treat as she - at last - peeled the lace lavender bra she wore and dropped it to the side. She curled her fingers in the elastic of her matching panties and made sure to turn about as she slipped them down and off her body so he’d have ample view of her ass as she did it.

It made him growl, more beast than man. His ass clenched as his hips lifted instinctually upward, wishing they were buried between those thighs he couldn’t pull his gaze from.

When she returned to kneel on all fours between his spread legs, she bent and angled her head inward, laying a slow, lingering, sensual kiss against the inside of his thigh. She trailed those affectionate, sweet touches up his skin to where his cock jerked and twitched, so hard it almost hurt, pre-cum beading and dribbling desperately down its head.

After pausing to wet her fingers she began to service him again, being careful to let off when it was clear she was building him too quickly toward the peak. The tease - the way she edged him - was the most glorious torture he’d ever experienced. He fought the instinct to put his hands on her hair and hold his cock in her throat until he made her gag on his cum by instead bruising her body with how rough he handled her. He grabbed fistfuls of the soft fat over her hips before he ran his calloused palms down her chest and over her nipples, pinching and pulling them just enough to make her squeak in that way that made a smug grin push into his round cheeks.

His sac sucked tight to the base of his cock as she bobbed her head in a quick, rapid motion over his sensitive, throbbing head. He felt the tight curl in his abdomen for the fourth time that night and his thighs tensed, the hard muscles beneath the natural fat showing. Fawna, used to the way his body communicated during sex, popped her lips off his head just before it was too late. He groaned long and low, mixed with an almost growl-like noise of frustration as his hips arched up and his cock leaked desperately, but he still didn’t cum.

“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” His voice was strained. Weak. He was a mess of heavy breaths and a sweat-sticky body. 

And she smiled that little smile with her lips red and swollen from how they’d sucked and licked at his cock for so long. That playful little innocent seeming smile that told you she knew she wasn’t pure at all. It made his eyes dark with hunger and his fingers cramp, wanting to curl hard into her skin and flex his strength over her. She leaned back on her calves, sitting upright between his legs, and slowly wiped the little glisten of saliva and precum from her lips before she fixed her eyes on him again.

“Of course not, baby. I’m just enjoying you.”

A shiver of pleasure rushed down his spine and a flood of pride filled his body. That was something Fawna did well from the very beginning; make him feel important. Needed. She could be anywhere in the world, even back home, with her husband, but she wanted to be here, squished between his hairy, thick thighs, making him writhe and moan and nearly cum before letting off and going again, drawing everything out for as long as they physically could.

“Besides,” she said, tone playfully matter-of-fact as she started to climb up him, knees on the mattress at either side of his hips, drawing her eyes back up to his, “those moans of yours have me drenched, and you’re not going to finish until you’re inside me.” His nostrils flared, jaw clenching tight enough to make the muscle jump beneath his closely trimmed blond beard.

She pressed back on his thick cock, the head slipping between her pussy lips but not yet allowed inside. He could feel the truth - how wet she was - and it made him groan as his cock slid up with ease between them and rubbed her clit. She ran her hips back and forth, slow and languid, teasing her clit to rise and making herself whimper and moan above him. Adam’s fingers bit into her hips and drove the pace a little faster, wanting to milk more and more of those trembles out of her body and hear those needy little cries she couldn’t help but make.

Fuck, she was so wet. He could feel it coating their thighs; sticky.

Before she could make herself cum by rubbing his cock over her clit, Fawna pulled her hips up and reached back, positioning him so that when she sat back, the leaking, red head of his erection buried an inch inside her. She sank her hips slowly; down, down, down until he was comfortably lodged deep and they both stilled for a moment, adjusting to the way they breathed with shaky, desperate breaths. She ran her hands down his bare chest and started to move, rocking her body slowly to stroke his cock a few inches in and a few inches out. She was building him again, content to make his head spin and keep his only focus on the love and sex that filled the space between and around them.

The moan from his chest was deep and yearning. He arched his hips up as she sank down, and his fingers readjusted where they gripped her. He was trying to reach through fat, through muscle, to bone. She moaned and Adam felt he’d never heard a sound that made him happier. The way her cries bounced off the corners of the hotel room and reverberated back, tangling with his own passionate grunts, the shifting of their bodies atop the sheets, was driving him toward a lack of control. He wanted it all, then and there. He wanted to flip them around so she was beneath his shadow, he wanted to push his palms hard against her thighs and roll her hips up until her knees touched her temples. He wanted to drive his hips hard and fast into her over and over and over until he bruised her and left her aching for days. This possessive beast inside him was nearly impossible to deny, and his hands gripped tighter on her hips, his own driving faster up into her. He forced his eyes open, though they wanted to clench shut from the pleasure tingling through his entire body, and watched the way her face pinched in pleasure, lips caught wide open, their edges still glistening wet from when she’d been servicing his cock.

He grunted and drove his hips up harder, readjusting his grip on her hips, happy to see the red and white marks of his hands in the fat there. Would it bruise? He hoped so. He hoped she’d have the marks of his fingerprints in black and blue across that pretty flesh, and think about this moment. How good it felt to have him deep inside her, stretching her.

Suddenly, she resisted him. Before concentrating, Adam was the hive of restless need, and only forced his grip on her a little tighter, trying to make her ride him to the rhythm he decreed. But, when she stayed firmly resolute against being drilled by his pace, his eyes met hers with question. She slipped her hands down his sweat-damp chest to where he held her body and curled her fingers around them. Lifting, she pried them off her body and set them atop the comforter cushion. Her eyes met his and she smiled.

“My pace, cowboy. Remember?” She grinned as she said it, stopping him once again from getting carried away and driving them to the orgasm his cock was desperate for, twitching and leaking inside her. The breathless quality to her voice, the way she seemed to need to catch herself for a minute, was more than enough evidence to see how he’d affected her and nearly threw her off her game plan for the evening.

Adam could barely smile, every muscle tense and tight, but still flashed her an impish one.

“Can you blame me?” He choked out as she brought the pace back slow, sliding languid up and down his length, head never falling from her drenched lips. He shifted his body beneath her, peeling his skin from the damp comforter and drew a ragged, needed breath deep in his lungs. His tongue swept his lips and he took another breath, letting the tension in his muscles slowly leak out. “You’re driving me insane.”

“Aw, I’m sorry baby,” she said with a purr in her voice and a look in her eyes that said she was definitely not sorry. “But tonight I make all the rules.” She kept that pace, that way she stroked the entire length of his cock up and then down. Moving her hands to either sides of his shoulders she leaned her body over his and let him be trapped in her shadow. Her nipples brushed his chest and made a shiver ripple through his body. Every slow shift back and up of her body rubbed them against his skin and made him want to make a mad grab for them. Instead, his fingers curled desperate into the sheets where she’d placed them.

Fawna lowered, but didn’t reward his lips with a kiss. Instead she left tokens of her affection on his neck, kissing, licking, down to his chest and up the other side. She suckled, not enough to leave any permanent marks, but enough to let the blood rush hot and tingles to race up and down his spine. As she nibbled at his earlobe she whispered huskily into his ear, “I’m here to take care of you tonight, baby. I’m going to make it worth your while.” And she dropped her lips back to his neck, kissing where the muscles jumped because he swallowed so hard at her repeated promise. She lifted her mouth from his neck and hovered over him. One of her hands reached so she could gently grasp his bearded chin, tilting his blue eyes to meet hers. “That means I decide when we cum and everything we do before then.”

A shiver ripped through him like a tremble and the satisfied look in her eyes made him bite back a groan. 

The slowed pace had taken him off the edge he’d been desperately at, and Adam wasn’t sure to be thankful or to curse her. Fawna slowly sat back and his cock twitched, buried inside her. He looked up her body, every imperfection on display by the glowing lights all turned on in the hotel room. She wasn’t shy - he loved that about her - and smiled at him watching her, lifting her arms and arching her body sensually. Her pink nipples were hard, and it took everything he had not to demand she bring them to his mouth where he could suck, lick, bite and give her beard burn on her breasts. His eyes fell down them to her belly, to her hips and thighs where his greedy fingerprints were still visible on her skin and back up again. When he’d had his fill of admiring her, Fawna began to move her hips again.

Adam wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she first came to his hotel. Time seemed to stand still in this place, even though he logically knew he didn’t. Nothing existed but himself and Fawna. Not the alcohol, not the turbulence in his self-identity and his questioning of the love and loyalty of men he’d once called brothers on his tongue and in his heart. None of it. He existed only in pleasure with her rocking hips, in the pressure of her pussy wrapped around his hard, pulsing, desperate, cock, and the sore tightness of his balls sucked up to the base of his shaft, needing that final release. They were both glistening with sweat, their hair stuck to their foreheads, temples, and neck.

Fawna pressed her palms against his chest gently and lifted her hips off him until his cock slid out, patched in creamy white from her own slick. It twitched, longing for the warm home it’d been enveloped in. She didn’t rob him for long, instead gingerly moving her body so she stood bedside and reached for his hand to tug him off the bed too. The sheets stuck to his sweat-damp body, his thick figure a frame in the comforter from how hard he’d been pressing himself into it.

“What idea do you have in that head of yours now?” He asked, but his voice was roughened by the relentless continuance of pleasure and the denial again and again and again of final satisfaction.

“You’ll see,” she said, and leaned over the bed, pressing one of her forearms atop it for leverage. She reached back, hand on his, and pulled him to stumble forward until his hairy, muscular thighs pressed against her legs and his cock slipped up between her cheeks, leaving a trail of his precum and her wet. When she let his hand go it was natural for it to fall to the ample curve of her ass and for the other to join it. His fingers pressed and curled into the give of the fat there and that hungry look passed his face again.

Fawna arched her back and moved herself into the cushion of the mattress and then back, squeezing him inside her cunt with ease, as if they were pieces of a puzzle meant to fit. Adam leaned his head back, letting the end of his curls brush his shoulders, and arched his hips into her pace. His fingers slipped up the curve of her ass with the intent to tighten a grip on her hips but then, unable to help himself, he lifted his right palm and brought it down hard, open-palmed, over her ass. The ripple of skin, the soft sting of red in the shape of his hand and the little squeal of pleasure and pain she made pushed his hunger back to the forefront once more. He raised his hand and brought it down again, making the fat jiggle and the skin redden.

This time Fawna did not stop him from choosing the pace and the more she let him get away with, the more he let the hunger inside take. His hips crashed with hopeless abandon into hers in quick, needy bursts. He knew he was going to bruise her, but he didn’t care. He wanted more and more of those whore sounds to moan out of her throat and bounce around his hotel room and back into his ears, filling it until it was the only sound he could hear. 

His fingers curled their grip into her skin and used it to forcibly pull her back hard on him, to assist the thrusts as he shoved his cock needy and deep inside her. He fucked her into the mattress, one hand reaching up her back and shoving her down into it between her shoulder-blades, pushing her ass more up toward him so he could fuck her deeper and make her cry out and moan even more loudly. His name joined her cries and it made him even more ravenous than before. Sweat dripped down between his chest and still, he kept driving his hips to crash hard into hers, shoving his cock relentlessly again and again inside her red, swollen pussy lips.

By offering him the final power - allowing him to answer that needy call inside himself to be the one in control for the final act - she gave him exactly what he needed.

But he could hold off. Just long enough.

The hand that had previously pushed her into the hotel bed lifted and instead snaked between her body and the mattress, fumbling as his fingers reached with greed and without apology for her raw, raised clit. He slipped past it momentarily, almost cruel as he pushed two fingers inside her, along with his girthy cock still stretching her. A devilish grin curved the corner of his mouth at her little cry and long moan of pleasure that followed. He pulled his fingers free and used the wet he’d drawn from inside her to circle around her clit, petting her harder, synching it with the thrusts of his pulsing cock inside her. Just a little longer… just a little longer… he could hold off, he could…

“Adam!” Her cry ripped audaciously loud before her thighs began to shake and her body convulsed, the muscles of her cunt gripping tight around him. 

A low groan crawled loudly from his throat, his jaw locked and he bent halfway over her before his own body could be denied no longer. Buried inside her Adam came, decorating her insides with ribbon after ribbon of hot, sticky cum. For a long moment, almost long enough to make them look like carved statues of exhausted lovers, they stayed still like that. Adam leaning over her body, his palms flat on the mattress, her body trapped under his, their skin glistening with sweat that caught the lights.

Dragging a deep breath into his lungs that smelled like sweat and sex, Adam slowly lifted himself to stand straight and gingerly pulled his sensitive, still semi-hard cock from between her red, dripping pussy lips. She crawled onto the bed and turned herself around to look at him, that same exhausted, happy expression relaxed onto her features. Before reality could stab into this sinful haven they’d created, Adam gestured toward the bathroom with a tilt of his head.

“Want to rinse off with me real quick?”

“Yeah,” she said with a smile, gingerly moving to set herself on her feet. When she swayed, he reached out to catch her, though his reaction was a little slower than it’d normally be. They exchanged smiles, amused at how they’d thoroughly exhausted themselves.

She yawned as they padded barefoot and naked around the bed and toward the bathroom. “Is it okay if I stay here with you tonight?” She asked, and though her tone sounded innocent, as if she’d just now thought of it, Adam had to wonder if she’d planned it all along. If she’d had the forbearance to know he didn’t want to spend the night alone, and all the sex in the world wouldn’t stop that emptiness from coming to steal away his happiness as soon as she left and he was the only one in his hotel room.

He wouldn’t put it past her.

Adam pulled her by the hand to stop her from walking into the bathroom and crashed her body back into his. His free hand reached to gingerly tuck a lock of her frazzled, tangled hair behind her ear and fell into tenderly holding her face. This was what made things hard between them. The way his heart beat for her. The way it wasn’t just sex.

“Yeah.” He said, and a faint, tired smile touched his lips. “I’d like that.” He leaned down, his hand slipping to pinch her chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding her face up toward him as he brushed his lips gently against hers and then sank in for a deep, passionate kiss that’d leave them both dizzy by the time it was through.

[drowning-in-fandoms]

Seonghwa’s Memory {Pt. 2}

a/n: Hi, are you new? Well that means you are going to have to read this before and then come back :) But if you have already read the first part, I’m sooooo sorry. I know I don’t have any good excuses as its well over a month late, but like school. And I’m not very proud of this, but I’m just posting for the sake of posting. You can probably expect a rewrite later, for now I just need to get this ou of my drafts.

Warnings: mentions of death, alcohol, swearing

Pairing(s): Park Seonghwa x Her

Word Count:

“You won. Definitely.”

Her laughter fills the mostly empty cafe, startling the owner who was cleaning. “I know,” she says between giggles, “I wish I could’ve taken a picture with my phone. Sadly, it's dead. You were all like-” She made the weirdest face and made Seonghwa double over in laughter. He’s laughed more on this day then how much he does in a month. Damn, this woman was dangerous, making him forget all about work. Shouldn’t you have work right now? Your boss sent you the details for the new project and how you need to find a-

“Seonghwa?” She waves her hand in his face to get his attention. Spurred back into motion he just nods to indicate he’s listening.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Work.” work, work, work, always thinking about work. Small answers, good. She is a stranger after all.

“Oh,” sipping her mocha latte, “What do you do?”

“I’m a banker.”

“Oh.” He chuckles at her response, causing her to pout.“What are you laughing at?”

“You.” She makes a dramatic gesture of being offended. “It’s just that your responses are funny. ‘Oh’ this, ‘Oh’ that.” He teases her and she covers her face in embarrassment.

“Well, I just met you. It's awkward.”

Seonghwa leans into her and whispers, just for her, “How should I help you be more-” he lets the word slip mouth slower than the rest “-comfortable.” He expected her to cover her face again, but she surprised him by leaning in again. At this point they were breathing the same air. In and out. She searched his eyes to see if he would back out. But she didn’t find anything.  

“You could always tell me about yourself.” She leaned back in her, as did he. Seonghwa sighed, realizing that for her to trust him, he needed to put himself out there. He didn’t want to do that, make himself vulnerable, but he really wanted her to trust him.

“My name is Park Seonghwa. I’m a banker. I have a younger bro-”

“I don’t care about that stuff.” She uncrossed her arms and gently jabbed at him, “Who are YOU?”

He was taken back by her words. Who am I? Realizing he wasn’t going to answer anytime soon, she started up again. “I’m an activist. I fight for rights, especially human right violations. I fight against those obviously. I travel a lot and barely come home. Even when I do, I don’t stay at home. You can find me on the beach or at a party. I hate walking, but I hate driving. So I always bike. Always. I bring it abroad with me as well.”

“Wait, where is your bike right now?” Seonghwa was only half-listening but he did catch that part of her monologue.  

“I had to sell it.” A look of sadness passes over her pretty features. “Money has become tight, and today I just wanted to escape.” She looks at me in the eyes, “Do you want to escape with me?” Again, she has caught Seonghwa off-guard, it’s become a pattern.

“Uh, I don’t know. What would I be escaping from?”

“Life, standards that society imposes, standards that you impose on your-”

“I get it.” That last one. “I’m in.”

“This is your idea of an escape?” Seonghwa would have never asked such an incriminating question, but she said to take out his filter and that’s what he did.

“Yes, I like to walk along the beach?” He had a look of dissatisfaction on his face causing her to sigh. “You can choose what we do after, okay?”

He grumbled through the first few minutes of their walk but once she splashed water on him, it was on. Bodies sore and wet, they plopped down on the sand and looked up at the dark sky. Since they were far away from the pollution, they could see the clustered stars. And there they sat, the awkwardness and tension from the beginning, slowly slipping away.

She reaches over to her side to grab her bag, and Seonghwa realizes a little too late what she was about to do. The bag collides into his chest as she mutters, “Get up.” She looks around again and grabs her phone from the bag that currently rested against his chest. Pulling out her phone, Seonghwa dismisses it as she was checking her texts and again he was late to realize that she was taking a picture.

“Hey!” He says as he grabs the camera, she snatches it away just in time, “Tell me before you take a photo, I want you to get my good side.” Seonhwa winks at her and pumps his non-existent-bob. She playfully slaps him and walks in the other direction.

“You have no bad side, Park Seonghwa, what will it take for you to understand that?” But her words washed away like the waves on the shore.

As it was Seonghwa’s turn to pick where they were going, he thought what was a late night without some drinks. So when Seonghwa brought up alcohol, the poor girl thought he was going to take her to a bar. But no, apparently the best place for alcohol was a convenience store, and when she asked where they were going to drink the newly-purchased-beverages, well Seonghwa blanked. They ended up on the roof of an old building. Taking in the city, they drank to life.

“You know when you said escape reality, I thought we would go crazy, crash parties, take over a concert and all that.” Seonghwa started, and cut off her protests,  “I didn’t finish. Bbbbuuttttt,” dragging ‘but’ out, “This was oddly fun too. I guess not worrying about the consequences of tomorrow is freeing.”

“Boy, tomorrow is a Saturday,” she says in disbelief. “Stop getting so deep, you only had two sips.”

He just smirked and looked into the distance. As the drinks finished, they each pointed out parts in the city, where they work, or where they’ve been. Stories came to life around them, even if they weren’t accurate and they just enjoyed each other’s presence. Seonghwa was usually talkative but this was the first time someone truly listened to everything. She let him talk about his life, and he even told her about how life had become a cage for him.

“Wait, so let me get this straight, you got scared of your mom dying-”

“You put it so harshly, but yea.” Seonghwa cuts in. 

She, a little skeptic, continues, “Fine, your mom losing her job or something. So not only would you have been sad, but you would have to financially support your brother and yourself. That’s why you become a banker, because you know, money.”

“So crude, but yes. Money.”

“That’s absolute bullshit.” Stunned, Seonghwa just looks at her to keep going.

“You thought so far into the future and made horrible scenarios, and sacrificed your life because of them. Have you ever thought that this isn’t what your mom wants?” She doesn’t give him time to respond, “This isn’t the first time you’ve noticed how sad your life is, I can tell, so why don’t you do something about it? Everything that’s wrong in your life is your fault.”

She says it so blunt, that Seonghwa almost believes her. Almost. “That’s not true. My friends left me-”

“Because you kept missing the hangouts ‘cause you were so ‘busy’. “ The air quotes on busy infuriated him. Who does this girl think she is? So he tries again.

“I’m super busy because my job requires me to be. You wouldn’t understand.”

“No I wouldn’t because I do something I love and when I want to go out with my friends, I make time. Tell me, does your work control you or do you control your work? Or instead, have you noticed that you request for more work, you pursue things things that you know you don’t like, but you just keep doing it?”

He stays silent, not knowing how to respond to that “Bu-but my mom always brags about me and my achievements. That has to mean something, right?” Seonghwa is disgusted by the desperation in his voice, but he can’t stop it.

She doesn’t look exasperated, as Seonghwa thought she would, but instead she looked liked- she pities me? “Yeah, but do you think if she knew how much you were hurting inside from these decisions, would she still support them? And if she doesn’t, which is probably unlikely, is she the a person you want to keep in your life. I know she’s family, I know love her, but people are human and they can be toxic too, so sometimes you have to cut them off. Before you think about them, think about yourself. What do you need? You need to take care of yourself, because at this point who else will?”

The alarm woke Seonghwa in a flurry, drenched in sweat and no good answer to the dream girl’s question. What do I need?

The biggest piece of him believed his dream was real. But he knew the girl he saw was just a manifestation that his subconscious brain created to reset his body. It just felt so real. He sighed at that and rolled over to grab his phone. 

That simple act distracted him from the scents filling his bed and nose. Scents of coffee, the ocean, night air and cheap liquor. Scents of a dream that shouldn’t be familiar but somehow is.

[ruelmp4]

party part 2

Concept: the truth is finally revealed and maybe the start of something new?

Enjoy ((:

*This is part 2 to the last chapter and the last part!*

Your eyes rapidly blinked as you tried to focus on what was going on around you, but it was too hard. Streams of lights could be seen rapidly flashing through your vision as your feet slowly began to give out. The only sound that could be heard was the music that sounded so far away, almost strained in your ears, and the sound of your dying out voice that was crying for help. What was going on? You didn't drink enough alcohol to be this out of it.

It was as if everything was moving in slow motion as you see a tall boy burst through the kitchen, panic was written all over his face as he searched for something. But that soon changed. His entire aura changed as his eyes found you and the strange man on top of you. Pure anger was visible on his features as he runs to you, his arm pulling back before coming back to slam into the face of the frat boy on top of you. You could feel his body leave from on top of yours, falling to the side of you, Ruel's blow knocking him down.

No longer having a presence there to hold you up or the strength to hold yourself up, you could feel yourself sliding down the counter before landing on the tile floor. Your cheek collided with the cold ground, a bruise most likely forming there immediately from the contact. Pain shot through the entire side of your left cheek.

Then suddenly, a flash of blonde hair appeared in the doorway, shouting at the two boys fighting beside you. She shouted with determination but the look her eyes showed fear. Fear about the situation occurring and fear for her brother as he took a hit to the stomach, throwing him back against the refrigerator. You wanted to scream out to them, to tell them to stop but barely anything came out. But Coco did hear you as she came running over, and tries to pull you up off the ground and into her arms. "Y/N are..gonna get..alright?" her words came out detached, as your vision went in and out.

The last thing you remember was Coco and two other girls helping you off the ground as two other blurred figures were pulling Ruel off of the frat boy. His hair was a mess and he had blood running down his hairline where you can assume he had been hit. His green eyes held such anger for the boy laying underneath him but also for the guys holding him back from finishing him off. And that was when everything finally went black.

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

It felt as though you were floating through clouds as you snuggle deeper into the softness of heaven. But then reality hits, and you slowly open your eyes to only find yourself in Coco's warm bed. Your hand reached out to rub your head, feeling as if someone was playing the drums with the amp all the way up. You groaned. Stupid Y/N. Maybe you shouldn't have drunk so much last night. Wait last night?! What happened?

"There's Advil and water on the nightstand for your headache," Coco says softly from the end of the bed. Her eyes showed tiredness and her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed for days. You reached out for the Advil desperately, wanting this headache to go away as soon as possible.

"Coco, what the hell happened last night?" She sighs, pulling her legs up onto the bed sitting criss-cross applesauce.

"Y/N, it was bad. Like really bad. It all went so fast and everyone was scared and angry and it was just a lot." She tells you, her eyes glossing over as she looks out the window to try and conceal her emotions. "Ruel isn't here right now. He's..still out cooling off from last night."

"Tell me. Please."

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

Coco's POV (12 hours earlier)

The song "Like That" by Doja Cat was playing in the background as well all danced together. I'm pretty sure Y/N said something but it was probably nothing. I watched her as she squeezed through the crowd before heading into the kitchen. Oh! She was getting drinks. Damn, I should have said something! I needed a new drink.

"Heyyy! Coco!!" Turning my head back to my friends that were calling me back into the middle of the dancefloor to dance. I smile making my way there, but before I could catch up to them, someone grabbed my arm. I rolled my eyes at who it was.

"What do you want dickhead?" I glare at him before laughing at my insult, his face becoming annoyed with my attitude. I'm still not happy he brought someone here to make Y/N jealous. He made me promise that I wouldn't tell her anything about it, and I'm a pretty loyal person. Plus I wanted them to figure it out for themselves. Like Y/N, he fell for her the moment he saw her. I had no idea she had feelings for him so I didn't tell her anything. As it turns out, they both have feelings for one another, but won't tell each other. HA! How ironic for both of them. She's gonna kill me when she finds out.

"Do you know where Y/N is?" He shouts to over the music to me. Hearing exactly what he said, I decided to mess with him. I put my hand up to my ear like I didn't hear him, "What?"

"Where is Y/N?" He asks again, and once again I laugh, "What'd you say? I didn't hear you. Maybe speak up?"

"Damnit, Coco. Just tell me where Y/N is." he spits out, frustrated at my childish behavior.

I sigh, "She's going to get more drinks." He goes to walk away but I grab his arm before he leaves, turning him back to face me. "Don't even think about it. She's trying to forget about you tonight. You being the asshole you are made her upset by bringing 'Charlotte." I tell him, the name Charlotte coming venomously off my tongue.

"What are yo.." he's cut off by a quiet screaming in the background. "Did you hear that?"

I nod my head confused as to why it sounds so familiar, but that's when I hear it. The faint sound of Ruel's name coming from the kitchen.

"Ruel it's Y/N. I think something's wrong." And with that he's gone in a flash, running towards the kitchen. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I grab my hair in frustration. What did I just do?

I start to speed walk after him, but there are so many bodies on the dance floor right now. "Move, move, move! Out of my way, damnit!" I yell at this group of frat looking boys chugging beer. And that's when I hear a huge slam of something in the kitchen. Oh shit.

When I finally make it to the doorway all I see is blood and two boys fighting. One of them being my brother. "Hey! Stop! Stop fighting! For fuck's sake Ruel!" I shout at them as Ruel's head snaps towards mine, but that didn't stop the other guy. A blow landed right in the pit of Ruel's stomach before he could regain his attention back onto the shitty frat boy, and was thrown back into the refrigerator. I cringe as Ruel's body makes a dent in the front of it. A small sound could be heard from down on the floor beside them, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Y/N!

I race down to her, going to pull her up off the ground and realizing that her dress was hitched up to her midthigh and her underwear down at her ankles. Holy shit, that fucker! "Y/N are you okay? I'm gonna get you up and out of here alright?" her eyes kept opening and closing as she struggled to stay awake. Fuck, did he drug her?

"Shit Coco what happened to her?" You look up to see two of your friends leaning down to help pick Y/N up. "She was drugged I think. I don't know. Please let's just get her out of here." You guys pick her up and begin to walk out as Ruel was being held back by his shoulders by two of his friends. He's pissed.

I look to his friends and shout over the music, "Please get him out of here and take him somewhere else. He needs to cool off and calm the fuck down." And with that, I left to take Y/N home.

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

Y/N's POV (current time)

You sit there silently twiddling your thumbs unsure of how to react to all this new information you had been told. You drank too much, a guy almost forced himself on you, there was a huge fight in the kitchen, and Ruel had feelings for you all along. So many different thoughts were swarming through your head, but only one sticking out. Ruel liked you and beat up the guy who was trying to hook up with you. You needed to see him.

"Coco where is he?" You pleaded, looking up at her. She closes her eyes and rubs her temples. "I have no idea. Last I heard they had left him at the beach where he wanted to walk to his special spot to be by himself. But no one has any idea where that is."

That's when it hit you. You knew exactly where he was. Getting up, you swayed a little, your headache pulsing painfully through your head but you needed to talk to him. Coco didn't say anything as you tugged your shoes on and ran out the door. She knew you needed this..Needed him.

When you finally arrived at the special part of the beach he brought you to one of the first summers you were there, you could see him sitting in the sand, picking it up and then letting it slowly slip through his fingers. It was something he always did when something was on his mind.

"Hi," You said softly with a sad smile, taking a seat next to him. His red and puffy eyes met yours, telling you exactly how he was feeling. He immediately pulled you in for a hug, squeezing your into his body like his life depended on it. Pulling away he begins to rant to you "I'm so sorry I didn't get there sooner. I was looking for you to tell you how I felt and Coco wouldn't tell me where you were and when we heard you screaming I- I tried to get there as fast as I could. And then I saw him on top of you and I sort of just lost it. Damn it Y/N I love you so much. I have since the day I first saw you." His eyes began to get glossy with tears and he grabs your hand and continues. "You looked so gorgeous standing there on the beach that day. And then this afternoon, Coco just had to go and say all those things about you guys going to this party and getting drunk and hooking up with guys. God the thought of you with another guy it just shattered my heart. And like the idiot I am I went and got jealous and brought Charlotte, who I don't even like, she doesn't even compare to you, Y/N."

By the end of his confession, you both had tears streaming down your cheeks. And then you start to chuckle, which turns into laughter. "You are such an idiot! I tried to make it so obvious that first summer I was here that I liked you. You brought me here and I basically told you that I thought you were cute and you said 'Okay!' and went on to talking about some surfing company you wanted a board from. So I thought you weren't interested and completely shut out my feelings. God, we're both idiots."

He just sighs and begins to laugh along with you, letting you lead your head on his shoulder. "But hey, you're my idiot. And I'm yours. I mean only if you want to. I don't wanna force you into anything."

You just shake your head and crash your lips onto his. A kiss that was long overdue. A kiss you had both been waiting for. A kiss that should have been made on this sand years ago.

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

[thtrelady]

Tiny Dancer

Read it on AO3 HERE

Minako swept into the onsen carrying a bottle of sake and three huge bags. “Where are they,” she demanded as she strode towards Toshiya. She handed the sake over to him with a slight bow.

Toshiya took the sake from her with another graceful bow before stepping out from behind his counter and leading her back into the family space. There, bundled up on the cushions in their living room, Hiroko reclined with a small bundle in her arms. Her face was drawn, but her smile was as wide and welcoming as always as she greeted Minako. Minako sank down on a cushion next to her and peered down at the little package. She gasped when a little head turned her way and large eyes blinked up at her.

“Oh Hiroko, Toshiya, he’s precious,” she said. “I brought things from tour for him and for Mari-chan. Oh! And I just finished the renovations on that studio above the bar so I’ll be starting dance classes there shortly. I know you were looking for something for Mari-chan to burn off some energy.”

--------

“Minako-senpai, we’re here!” Hiroko exclaimed as she came into the studio with Yuuri on her hip and Mari holding her hand. Mari reluctantly let go of her mother’s hand and walked over to join the group stretching near the barre.

Minako smiled and walked over to gather Yuuri up from Hiroko before going to the front of the studio and starting class with the tiny figure in her arms. His eyes tracked from her face to the small children in front of her and he buried his face in her shoulder. Minako kept holding him through the entire first part of the class, making him giggle when she suddenly whirled up onto her toes demonstrating the spin for her beginners. It was only when everyone moved to the barre and she had to make corrections that she surrendered him back to his mother.

--------

Minako rested her head in her hand leaning against the table as she drank and watched the soccer game playing on the TV in the onsen lounge. Toshiya and his friends were cheering and dancing around the room, but she was quietly waiting for the game to end so that she could claim the TV for the start of the skating program. Yuuri was sitting next to her, calmly playing with some blocks and tuning out the ruckus around them.

One block toppled off the pile and rolled out of his reach. Minako watched as the little one struggled to reach his arms further and his little face puckered up in concentration. After struggling for several moments, she could see him start to put some pieces together as he put his hands down on the edge of the table and wiggled back and forth to gather his chubby legs under his diapered butt. He rocked back and forth a couple of times and then pushed up off the ground, holding the table edge and putting his feet firmly underneath him. Minako’s eyes widened as Yuuri stood for the first time and reached out to get his block. He was wobbly, but standing.

“Hiroko!! Toshiya!!” the excited woman called out, “He did it!”

Hiroko bustled out of the kitchen with her hands already over her mouth. She was smiling so widely, but a little tear shone in her eyes when she saw her baby supporting himself on the table. Toshiya wrapped his arm around his wife as the group watched Yuuri get his block. Even the customers in the room stopped celebrating long enough for the chubby hand to wrap around the block and drag it back. 

Then, just as suddenly as he’d stood, Yuuri plopped back down on his butt, looking startled at how fast the descent had happened. His chin wobbled, but before he could start to cry, Minako had him gathered up in her arms, snuggling him close. Hiroko dropped to her knees next to them and the two women cooed and praised the baby for how big and strong he was.

--------

Mari shuffled into the class with a pout on her face. Hiroko followed slowly, bent over slightly to let Yuuri hold her finger as he toddled beside her. Minoko looked up and clasped her hands over her mouth at the sight of Yuuri’s stumbling steps.

Oh Hiroko, look at him,” she breathed out.

“Yeah, he’s getting into everything,” Mari muttered to the girl next to her at the barre.

“Brothers.” the girl grumbled back as they shared a moment of sibling camaraderie.

“Minako, watch this,” Hiroko said as she stood next to Yuuri and gently shook his hand free from her finger, “Yuuri, show Minako what you practiced with Mari today.”

Yuuri looked up to his mother and then over to Minako and Mari with his big eyes and took a tiny step back. 

“Go on, you can do it,” Hiroko encouraged. 

Yuuri stepped forward again and looking over to make sure Hiroko was watching him, raised both arms up over his head and rose up on his tiptoes, turning himself in a slow and wobbly, but very clear dance spin. Coming to stop facing Minako again, he very slowly and carefully shifted his weight to one foot and lifted the other in a tiny arabesque. 

Minako cheered, “Beautiful Yuu-kun!”

Yuuri looked up at her and stuck one finger in his mouth, chewing on it nervously as he peeked over at his sister. Mari sighed and stuck her arms out towards him. Yuuri toddled across the room and Mari gave him a hug and a pat on his head.

“Good boy, that was just as we practiced,” she said. Yuuri beamed.

--------

Yuuri clung to his mom’s hand as he used his other hand to fiddle with the hem of his shirt as they walked over to the studio together.

“Are you excited to start classes today?” Hiroko asked.  Yuuri hummed and nodded his head vigorously. He’d been asking for lessons with Minako almost as long as Mari had been begging to get out of them. Hiroko grinned down at the four-year-old bouncing along beside her.

As they entered the studio, Yuuri dropped his mother’s hand to run across the room to Minako. “Min-ko-sensei, lookit my tights!,” he cried out doing a little twirl in front of her. He pointed one foot in front of her, “And my shoes!”

“Very good Yuu-kun. You look just right for class,” she said reaching down to help tug the shirt down over his black tights. “Now go stand with Ami-chan and we’ll get started.” Yuuri nodded and looking over to the little girl in braids, walked over to stand next to her.

“Everyone. This is first position. Do your best!”

--------

“Minako-senpai, I just don’t know what to do. Yuuri’s teacher called today to say he’d been hiding the closet at school today after lunch again. And I can tell he’s been crying. But he says nothing is wrong.”

“Oh Hiroko, let me see what I can find out after class today when Yuuri’s doing his extra stretching. You may want to check with Mari-chan also. You know she watches him very closely these days since that boy shoved him on the beach.”

“Thank you. I just want to know what is going on at school and to make sure he’s alright.”

That afternoon Yuuri arrived at class as promptly as ever and immediately began stretching. Minako watched him as she greeted the other seven year olds arriving and noticed that with each arrival, Yuuri would look up and then shrink back, making himself smaller and turning away from the others. Ami sat next to him, but the others seemed to leave more space than usual. Minako tightened her lips, but she had class to run and could only watch for now.

Throughout that day’s class Minako noticed that only Ami directly interacted with Yuuri. Everyone else either ignored him completely or shot dirty looks at him. By the end of class, Yuuri had moved himself all the way to the back corner and was dancing in his own world. Minako admired his form, noting that she needed to work on his turnout slightly and that she really did need to talk to Hiroko about putting him in the advanced class even though it would be early.

“Yuuri-kun,” Minako said as class packed up, “stay a moment will you? I need to talk with you.” She noted that Yuuri startled and that his forehead creased. She also noticed a bunch of heads turn away quickly and whispers start up as the rest of the class left. Minako decided that next class was going to concentrate on plies. Lots of plies. 

Once she was sure the last of the others was out of the studio, she turned to Yuuri with her hands on her hips. Yuuri stood, not quite looking at her and shifting his weight from foot to foot. Minako sighed, “Alright kiddo. What’s the story.”

Yuuri looked up and Minako’s heart broke to see the tears in his eyes. “Hiroshi-san says only girls do ballet and he said no one should hang out with me because I’m pretending to be a girl,” Yuuri choked out after a minute of sniffling and shaking his head. “I know that’s not true Minako-sensei, you showed us all those videos!” Yuuri continued, “But they keep shoving me a school and leaving notes in my cubby.”  He ran over to his pack and pulled out a handful of notes with words like Fatty and Baby written on them to hand over to Minako.

“Oh Yuuri-kun, why didn’t you tell your mother about this?” Minako asked.

Yuuri sniffled again, “I didn’t want her to pull me from lessons and I thought if she knew they were teasing me at school she would.”

Minako chuckled, “Yuuri, I don’t think you have to worry about that, now let’s get you home and we’ll talk about what we’re going to do to handle this.” She reached out and rumpled the little boy’s hair. “Come on.”

Three days later, Minako-sensei led an intensive ballet workshop during gym at Yuuri’s school. Yuuri was the only one able to walk home that afternoon.

--------

Minako tapped her lip as the children moved through the simple choreography for the upcoming recital. It was becoming increasingly clear that Yuuri was not only the best dancer in her young group, but he was also better than a number of her intermediates. But Minako knew his body was too young to move him to harder classes. 

She and Hiroko had a number of conversations about how they could encourage Yuuri without pushing him to injury. Minako had plans for Yuuri and they didn’t involve stress fractures at eight.

Minako looked out the studio window as Yuuko bounced down the stairs from the studio and hoisted her skate bag on her shoulder to head to her skating lesson after ballet. Minako’s eyes widened with a sudden thought, there was something new for Yuuri. And he already knew Yuuko from lessons. She knew Hiroko and Toshiyo would agree since they’d just been talking about finding more activities for him just last night.

Minako spun up onto her toes in glee. “Yuuri-kun! Come with me, I’ve got something fun for you to try.” 

The little boy with the big brown eyes looked up at his sensei and reached out to take her hand as they started to walk towards the ice rink.

[captainchrisfics]

Out of Fenway Park

About: A SoCal born-and-raised reader relocated to Boston, where the very last thing she expects is to run into Chris Evans at a Red Sox game with beer dripping down her head and his hotdog plastered to her shirt. Literally, running into him, and then somehow still getting a date out of it.

Word Count: 3,365

Requested By: Anon. Thanks so much for sending this in! Absolutely love this story, thanks for giving me the opportunity to write it. Feel free to send in any other reqs!

P.S. I’m sorry but, as deeply as I love Boston, I’m just a New Yorker, posting a fanfic on the internet, asking you to forgive me for my inability to give the Red Sox the dignity of winning- feat. the best gif I could find of him repping the team

The sun was the only reason I agreed to go to this baseball game anyway and even that had failed me. I was looking forward to sitting back with its warmth washing over my skin so I could close my eyes and try to pretend like I was back on a beach in Southern California. Instead, it was borderline freezing rain and all I could think about was the ground being even muddier with the still melting snow and how I couldn’t tell if there really was rumbling thunder or if it was just the shouts of countless Bostonians surrounding me, cheering on the Red Sox. They were up against the Yankees and even I could tell it wasn’t looking good, but that didn’t dampen their home-team spirits.

My coworkers were maybe the worst of the bunch, drunkenly yelling profanities at the players while they sloshed their beers in agreement with one another’s profane criticisms of the pitcher. I was almost regretting giving up SoCal for a job offer I could hardly dream of fresh out of college with the only downside being that it was on the east coast. Anyone could’ve told you I despised the cold, being too far from the ocean, and the Patriots, maybe not in that order. But even more than that I knew I’d hate myself if I passed up this opportunity. So, without giving more thought than I maybe should’ve, I packed everything I could into three suitcases and a carry-on and moved across the country, hopes probably higher than the plane. 

Winter, however, brought me crashing back down to reality. Everything in nature either died or got the right idea to chase the sun south. I was stuck with snowbanks higher than my knees and a proper coat was nowhere in sight. Not that it mattered much anyway, the weather felt like it was freezing my bones to their core no matter what I wore. Initially, I had this glamorous idea of curling up by the window with a blanket on my lap as the fire crackled, holding a book in one hand and a hot chocolate in the other. Hitting the pavement after slipping on ice knocked the ignorantly blissful can-do attitude right out of me the first time. And the second and the third and I lost count after that.

Which is exactly why I agreed to come to this baseball game in the first place. Back home, spring meant warmer days and blooming flowers and short sleeve t-shirts. I thought I’d get to enjoy a little bit of sunlight at the very least, maybe get to finally connect with my coworkers in a meaningful way outside of asking for help to unjam the copy machine. However, the start of the season in this hell hole apparently included a lot more of the lion than the lamb and a rowdy crowd of Red Sox fans who thought it was good enough for shorts anyway and drank like alcoholic fish to top it all off.

A girl I shared the wall of my cubicle with, Alex, wrapped a lazy arm around my shoulders, pulling me too close into her Heineken haze than I was comfortable given the fact that I barely knew her. Plus, being the only sober one was never any fun. I had a feeling they only invited me under the guise of getting to know each other better considering all I’d become familiar with was the smell of their beer burps. After all, being barely of-age and the new kid made me their permanently designated driver, even though we’d taken the T here. 

“Know the difference between a Yankee and uh,” Alex paused to laugh at her own joke and let out a hiccup, “a pothole?” She was hanging onto me for support, speaking close enough to my ear that it could’ve been a secret though she was saying it loud enough for the rest of our group to hear over the boom of other fans. “I’d swerve for the hole!” 

I chuckled a little to be nice, although I didn’t think it was very funny. Our coworkers to Alex’s right, on the other hand, guffawed as if it was the most hilarious thing they’d ever heard. Preferring their reaction and acting almost in slow motion, she raised her cup in cheers of herself and simultaneously turned to the others, sloshing the frothy drink until it rained down on me.

I shot up out of my seat as the cold beer trickled down my back. Everyone paused, eyes glued to me for my reaction as I tried to maintain my temper. I used my hands like windshield wipers, tossing the liquid on my face to the floor with an angry snap of my wrists. Alex started to profess a slurred apology, but I held up my hand for an extra second or two to compose myself. “It’s...” I paused to suck in another deep breath. “It’s okay. Accidents happen. I’m gonna go clean up.” Before she could offer to help, I whipped around and jumped down the stadium’s stairs two at a time.

My cheeks were hot with embarrassment as I scanned the hall, looking for something resembling a bathroom sign frantically. People were probably busy enough with their own agendas, be it getting back to the game or buying a baseball hat, but I still felt every set of eyes boring into me. So I tried to put my head down and run to the closest restroom until I hit a wall instead. 

Literally, it sent me tumbling to the floor until I landed on my ass, melting into a messy puddle of beer mixed with my former self. Contrary to my belief, someone said, “I didn’t see you there.”

My eyes left my hands, where I’d tried to bury my face like an ostrich in the sand, to see a broad man bending down on his knees before me. He had a Red Sox cap pulled low over his face, a thick beard, and a light grey t-shirt with a dark wet patch in the middle of his chest. Must’ve been where we collided. “I’m so sorry,” he continued with the exaggerated o’s and r’s that sound like ah’s, still so wrong to my west coast ears. I spotted an empty disposable food tray in his hand and looked down to see the hotdog it’d previously housed glued to my stomach by its condiments. Exactly what I needed. 

“Are you alright?” He extended a hand to help me up, but I couldn’t move. Instead, I just sat sprawled on my butt at Fenway Park, reeking of somebody else’s alcohol, staring at this beautiful stranger. His concerned look turned a little suspicious the longer I sat there without grabbing his hand, my mouth moving like a fish out of water. All I had to say was yes or I am or something, anything really, but I couldn’t even manage a three-letter sentence.

Instead, I peeled his hotdog off of my shirt and returned it to its little white boat. “Oh, uh, thanks I guess. Or sorry, I mean.” He adjusted his hat and cleared his throat before extending his hand again. “Is there anything I could do to… help?” His eyes scanned me again as if he were sizing me up, making me even more self-aware of the awful state I was in. 

“Bathroom,” I blurted out as my mind caught up, barely able to rip my eyes from his biceps. He stitched his eyebrows together, back to confusion again, though I didn’t give him any time to ask questions before I all but snatched his hand and he hoisted me up. 

“Nice to meet you, Bathroom. I’m Chris,” he said with a smirk, teasingly shaking my hand. “You didn’t hit your head, right?” He tried to subdue a laugh, but the playful look in his deep blue eyes betrayed him as he reached to brush off my shoulder.

“Very funny,” I shot back with an exaggerated roll of my eyes, betting my smile gave me away. “As in Evans, right? You look too much alike for it to be a coincidence.”

He played with the sunglasses tucked into his shirt’s collar, probably wishing he’d kept them on for the sake of a disguise. Chris only shrugged, claiming he would neither confirm nor deny. I didn’t need him to though, I’d been stuck watching Marvel movies with my brothers long enough to recognize those cheekbones anywhere. “I’m more of an Iron Man fan anyway,” I tried to emphasize my nonchalance in the hopes that I wouldn’t scare him off. “What I meant was I need help finding the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah. Just passed one over there I think…” Chris trailed off as his eyes swept over the stadium, looking with much more of a level-head than I could. He found one almost immediately and laced his fingers between mine so it was more like we were holding hands. In a silly school-girl kind of way it made my cheeks flush, which was awfully embarrassing that, given my condition, holding hands with a cute boy was what had turned me into a tomato. Then he tugged me in the direction he came from and I wasn’t in the position to protest.

There was only so much I could do with thin paper towels, lukewarm water, empty soap dispensers, and a tide stick from a kind woman who took pity on me. Still, I spent a while scrubbing at the mustard and ketchup stains and wringing my stringy hair over the sink. It was long enough that I was more than surprised to see Chris leaning against the wall coolly. One foot was pressed against the wall and his arms were crossed over his chest while he whistled a tune.

“Is that The Little Mermaid?” I asked with a wrinkled nose, sounding more dumbfounded to hear this burly, bearded, lumberjack-looking man all but belting out Under the Sea than I was to see he’d been waiting for me.

Chris only shrugged, a crooked grin softening his features. 

“Is that a problem?” He cocked an eyebrow and flexed his arms as he crossed them as if to challenge me. But there was this twinkle in his eye that betrayed his demeanor so all I did was shake my head. I tucked some hair behind my ear as I glanced back at Chris, who looked far too satisfied with himself as he said, “Good thing since I owe you some ice cream.”

Chris started walking away, taking quick steps so long I had to take two for each of his to keep up. I called his name but he ignored me until I grabbed his hand to get his attention, which it certainly did as he squeaked to a halt. He squeezed mine before letting it go, looking at me curiously. 

I wasn’t quite sure exactly what I was going to say until it was already tumbling out of my mouth. “If anything I owe you a hotdog,” I muttered, avoiding his stare. Not that I was uncomfortable waltzing off with a stranger in the limelight, which I totally was. Not that my coworkers were waiting for me and would never believe I’d been getting ice cream with Chris Evans, which was also true. Not any of the totally valid reasons to feel a little funny about this whole thing. Instead, I insisted on buying a hotdog for a guy I was sure had more cash sitting in his bank account than I’d ever see. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, my lunch had it coming,” Chris insisted with a swipe of his hand, playfully brushing me off. “Your shirt, however, did not deserve that stain.” His pointed finger dropped to the orangey Rorschach test permanently painted just below my chest, getting a laugh from me. 

“Here,” Chris said as he untied the hoodie around his waist. I tried to keep my eyes from wandering to his stomach, where his shirt lifted a little higher than it should’ve been allowed, revealing the curve of his chiseled hips and the beginnings of a fuzzy trail dipping below his belt. “Take this to cover that up.” He handed me his sweater covered in pet hair and I slipped it on immediately, hoping it would hide my wild blush for a few seconds at least until I popped out the other side. It smelled like a dog had been curled up to it coupled with an intoxicating cologne I didn’t recognize and crisp air right before it rained.

I thanked him but Chris shrugged and puffed out his bottom lip before resuming his long strides to the concession stand, tugging me behind like luggage. “Plus, the game is already over. I don’t have to watch my boys actually lose. Maybe if you’d been a Yankees fan, I could’ve excused the whole sweeping you off your feet thing... but come to think of it you aren’t repping the Red Sox either.” He side-eyed me suspiciously without pausing until he nearly hit someone else’s back. 

“That’s an awfully nice way to put sending me tumbling to the concrete,” I scoffed, skidding to a stop at Chris’s side in line. “And sports culture is just misplaced nationalism if you ask me.” I crossed my arms to emphasize my point when I was met with raised eyebrows and a slack jaw. 

“Then what are you doing here exactly?” He asked, keeping one eyebrow perched a little higher than the other. There was something about the way he smiled at me, all genuine and gentle, and this look in his wide eyes. Whatever it was, I felt like I could tell him everything. So I did.

“All I wanted to do was sit in the sun,” I started, completely aware of how much I sounded like a toddler who missed her nap as I launched off into everything as if he’d been the one pulling up to watch my origin story with popcorn in hand. I told him about how much I missed California and how I felt like I hadn’t met anyone here who got me the way my friends did back home. And how much I loved the work I was doing, the way the end of every day left me feeling complete until I left the office, and how I didn’t think I could survive another Nor’easter for it. I spilled my guts along with the can of worms Chris didn’t mean to open as the concession line grew shorter until we were at the front. 

He ordered chocolate and vanilla cones, giving me the choice between the two once they were handed over so I thanked him.  We walked around the stadium for a while, bumping hips on occasion and crunching on our cones while we chatted about anything and everything except what I’d said earlier. That was until Chris suddenly stopped to sit on a bench, grabbing my hand to take me down with him. He cleared his throat before speaking with more of a serious air to him so I knew to brace myself for what was coming. 

“You’re young, yeah?” he asked, shoving his napkins into a nearby bin. I nodded as I sucked what I could out of the bottom of my cone, though I felt like I’d done a lot of growing up lately. “You’ve got a lot of time to figure these things out. Trust me, I know California is nice, but there’s a reason why I keep coming back to Boston.”

I thought about what he’d said for a beat or two, but I’ll be honest, it was difficult sitting next to him. It was awfully cold with the sun tucked far behind the clouds all day so I was grateful that Chris was so warm. Even his hoodie retained his heat, although I still curled up a little deeper into his side than I might’ve if he wasn’t a human radiator. “Mind telling me why?” I asked, popping the last of my ice cream into my mouth.

He shook his head as he said, “Sure, oh man. So many reasons…” I watched as his blue eyes rose as if he could see the sky through the stadium ceiling, the corner of his jaw flexing as it clenched and relaxed as he thought about it. “Other than my family being in Mass, there’s always something to do. We’ve got the best museums and such a rich history, if that’s your sort of thing,” he paused to scratch his beard as he thought a little more. 

His blue eyes nearly popped out of his head as another thing occurred to him. “The culture is something else. There’s something really special about a middle finger being a sign of affection to some poor sap giving tours in colonial clothing and everyone joining in to sing Sweet Caroline on the T on the way home from a game,” Chris continued with animated, sweeping waves of his arms, talking with a kind of passion for a town I couldn’t imagine having in my heart. He shook his head as he added, “And the food is great, too. I mean, where else do they have a whole word for cod that isn’t really cod?”

I laughed from the bottom of my stomach, where I expected a heavy pit of anxiety to be sitting at the beginning of a conversation like this. My homesickness and unhappiness here wasn’t something that I told anyone before out of fear of disappointing someone or being unable to admit my failure out loud. Chris was easy to talk to, more than a stranger usually was. Their judgment never really mattered to me, knowing that I’d probably never see them again. It wasn’t like that with him though, it was easier than that. I felt like he didn’t really judge me at all. He only tried to understand, help, and make me smile while he was at it. And I couldn’t deny a part of my heart that hoped I’d see Chris again. Not only again, but a lot.

“The people aren’t too bad either,” he smiled sheepishly, bumping our shoulders together and looking at me through his dark eyelashes in a way that made me feel like the only person here. As if I was the only one he was talking about. Chris took a deep breath that puffed up his chest, one he didn’t release until after his arm was comfortably slung over my shoulders. “Just give the city a shot, I think it’ll surprise you.”

I wanted to tell him it already had, really he had, but instead, I laughed dryly and said, “Hell, this city makes me feel like I need a shot.” I leaned my head on Chris’s shoulder as it shook with his chuckle, looking up at him to see how he rolled his eyes even though they were scrunched by his smile. 

“Know what?” he said like he was asking himself with a deep, shaky breath. He shot up from the bench as if he’d been shocked. I obviously didn’t know Chris well, but even I could tell he was nervous as he rubbed his palms dry on his jeans. “Let’s go get a drink then, instill a little Boston pride in you. There’s this great pub down a couple blocks with live music and everything. I mean, if you want to…?” He scratched the back of his head with one hand and extended the other to me with his offer. 

When I grabbed it, Chris broke out into a grin that made my stomach feel like I was on a rollercoaster. “I’d love to,” I said with a smile that barely held a flame to his. Neither of us made an effort to let go so Chris tugged me toward Fenway’s exit. As we left, I heard tens of thousands of Red Sox fans sigh like deflated balloons before the screams of just as many obscenities broke out. Probably another point for their opponents, but it certainly didn’t make me feel like I’d hit anything short of a home run.

Tags: @patzammit​ , @thegetawaywriter​ , @coffeebooksandfandom​ , @captainsteveevans​ , @intrepidandabitcrazy​ , @super100012​ , @spilledinkindumpster​

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[sympathyfortheblinderdevil]

You Never Were a Good Liar

This little blurb is in response to an angst fic request. @sebxvettel here you go!

“Tommy!” Ada knelt on the cold tile floor of the upstairs bathroom in front of the limp body of her brother.

She leaned over his pale, clammy form and grasped his shoulders, shaking him and nearly gagging as she caught a whiff of the vomit on his shirt sleeve— acrid, acidic, whiskey puke was caked on the side of his face as well because he had done a shit job of wiping his mouth. This wasn’t the first time she’d found herself in this position lately, but it was the first time she had felt scared.

She slapped his face and raised her voice, “Damn you, Tommy! You have to talk to me! Wake up you fucking bastard!”

He groaned and his eyes rolled blindly for a moment before he lost consciousness again.

Tears stung her eyes and she grunted desperately as she rolled him over on his side and bent his leg to brace him. She grabbed a towel off of the rack and rolled it to make a bolster behind him. At least he wouldn’t choke to death if he puked again.

Ada slumped against the wall and thought about dragging him into the tub and turning on the cold tap. She could get Mary to help...but Mary had been through enough. “God only knows why Mary stays here,” she thought. Tommy put her through hell with his moods. Besides, if she got him in the tub and couldn’t rouse him, she’d just have to haul him out. Sopping wet. Slippery. Dead weight. Once he was in water, he would probably piss himself too. She shuddered and prayed that he wouldn’t soil himself anyway. No, she couldn’t deal with that.

It was Christmas night and his guilt had caught up with him again. Once Charlie was tucked up safe in bed, Tommy began punishing himself. She could picture it now: he probably sat in his office staring at Grace’s picture and second-guessing every decision he’d made regarding the Italians. Her portrait loomed, beautiful and ethereal in the hall, and her perfume still drifted ghostlike into the drafty rooms of Arrow House—but the small framed photo in his office seemed to have a life of its own. That image, more than any other, tortured his tangled mind.

Tommy drank to numb the pain. He drank to forget. Night after night he fell into a stupor and shuffled off to his cold, empty bed. Most nights he was haunted by the loss of her, but birthdays and holidays were becoming unbearable. He mentally lashed himself for her death, and every holiday that he had to watch Charlie open presents without his mum rubbed salt into those wounds. Arthur and John knew he was in pain, but men didn’t discuss these things. Polly was worried, but she was too caught up in her reunion with Michael to realize the full extent of Tommy’s decline. That left Ada. Ada had become the de facto nursemaid to her alcoholic brother.

Tommy’s chest rose and fell like clockwork. Ada kept watch. She sighed and shifted her weight uncomfortably. She had stopped his drinking and helped him up the stairs countless times in the past year, but he usually stopped long before it came to this. The last time this happened was Charlie’s birthday, and even then she was able to hold him over the toilet to heave up the poison in his gut. That night, she could wake him with a cold cloth and a slap to the face. Now he lay on the floor, lifeless and pallid.

“Oh, Tommy,” she whispered. “We need you. Charlie needs you. Come back to us.”

She thought back to the night of Charlie’s birthday, again. Ada had begged him to pull himself together, to be strong for Charlie’s sake. It was far past midnight. She had cleaned up his mess and had managed to put him to bed. He was propped up on three pillows mumbling to himself, sleepy-eyed and thick tongued. Ada sat cross-legged on the end of his bed. Her hand rested on his calf, just above his ankle, and she patted it in a comforting way as she spoke. He answered her pleas in the affirmative. He promised that she wouldn’t have to rescue him again. She knew it was a promise he wouldn’t keep.

“You never were a good liar, Tom” She said to no one in particular. He was gone...passed out. He’d never remember their talk.

Ada thought her heart was broken that night. If she couldn’t convince him to clean up his act for Charlie then nothing would make him change his ways. All she could do was keep him alive until he saw sense on his own.

Now, on Christmas night, on her brother’s very uncomfortable bathroom floor, Ada made a pillow from a bath towel and lay down. As her eyes slid closed she patted Tommy’s calf. “One day you will be able to keep your promise. I love you, Tommy. Merry Christmas.”

[sennokami]

parallelism - chapter 6

ao3

The first time it happened, Mito passed it off as a fluke. He’d needed advice and she was the only married person he knew who was close to his position. The conversation had been stilted but civil, and once it was done, Mito sighed in relief and let herself forget it happened. That was what she told herself.

Then he came back a second time, this time to drop off a bag of oranges. Mito had been alone in the house practicing her calligraphy and Madara was there, knocking on her door, holding up oranges when she answered. Bought too many, was his excuse. Doubtful and bewildered, she accepted his oranges. She ate them alone. They’d been perfectly ripe.

The third time, he came at night and his offering was sake. They sat on the porch and talked about politics in the capital while not looking each other in the face. He left once they exhausted the topic, leaving only ash from his pipe.

Mito, despite her misgivings, was curious. It was her natural way to be curious. Uzumaki genes, her father always said. They were all born with a double dose of nosiness.

It wasn’t like she forgot how their first meeting went; from the second they clapped eyes on each other, Madara had glared at her with so much hatred that she’d went to bed that night with a warding seal drawn on her wrist. After that meeting, they avoided each other until they found an equilibrium where they never saw each other except from a respectable distance. Now, he was suddenly trampling all over that armistice.

From what Mito could tell, there was a pattern to his visits. He always came unarmed, for starters. He always brought something. And he never came by when Hashirama or Tobirama were nearby. It didn’t make them friends, but Mito could see an olive branch when it was this obvious.

It was nearly midnight when she heard that telltale knock. Mito didn’t get up immediately, spending her time finishing her brush stroke, and he didn’t knock again. Only when she was satisfied with her seal did she rise and open the screen door for him.

Madara held up a bottle. “Plum wine.”

“I have cups.” Mito brought them out and Madara uncorked the wine and poured for both of them. They sat down on her porch an arm’s length apart.

The wine was good, at least. Mito didn’t hide her blatant examination of him while Madara steadfastly stared straight ahead, his mouth thinned and – shit, she was tired of whatever this was. Mito liked to think that she was patient but she wasn’t ever-lasting.

“What I don’t understand is why the hell you’re doing this.”

Madara stared at the pond. Hashirama had dug it out himself, saying now you won’t ever be far from the water, haha, and she’d laughed along with him. The pond was small, stocked with itty-bitty fish, and nothing like the raging whirlpools of her home. His expression was furrowed as if to prove that he really was concentrating on the moon’s reflection.

“You’re going to have to answer me at some point. Or else this can end now.”

Madara looked up at her, clearly annoyed that she wasn’t a member of Hashirama’s school of practice where men got to brood in silence and say one-word replies. “I’m trying to be better,” he grunted reluctantly. “To you.”

Mito arched a brow.

“You’re Hashirama’s wife,” he said. “And I… I am Hashirama’s friend.”

She wasn’t very impressed by the tacit confession that he would’ve continued to be an ass if she wasn’t married to Hashirama, but she wasn’t really looking for more either. She shrugged. “Alright.”

Madara cleared his throat. Oh. He was going to keep going. “And I am sorry for being rude. When we met.”

He really made simple conversation feel like pulling teeth. Mito considered taking the bottle and just draining it. “I don’t accept.”

Madara’s head whipped up. “What?” he said incredulously.

“I don’t accept your apology,” she repeated, tilting her tone the way she did when she wanted to mock her siblings without being obvious.

He opened his mouth, clearly about to say something sharp, but caught himself at the last moment. Mito enjoyed his visible struggle. “Why not?” he finally demanded.

Mito snagged the bottle and drank, since she was already dropping her manners anyway. “Because I don’t think you’re being sincere. Because you’re obviously trying to accomplish something. Because I just don’t like you. I don’t know what this is and I don’t really care, but apologies are supposed to be sincere.” Mito drank again. “So if you want me to accept, you’re going to have to try harder.”

Through the corner of her eye, she watched Madara’s jaw set. He was going to storm off now, she predicted, Madara was a proud, impatient man who rarely slowed down long enough to realize that he’d done something wrong, much less apologize. Her flippant disregard for his attempt was going to piss him off enough to make him leave -

Madara twisted towards her. He sat down in actual seiza, back straight, hands flat, and his expression as hard as stone. “I am sorry,” he said forcefully, “for treating you the way I did. It was disgraceful. I was disgraceful. You don’t have to accept this, but I want to at least say it.”

Mito stared. Glanced into the bottle. Madara, apologizing! She’d have to check the sun tomorrow to make sure it still rose in the east. Maybe one of her seals had finally gone haywire as her sister always predicted and Mito was in some parallel dimension. When Madara looked like he might continue, she held up her hand. “That was a little better. But – why?”

“I just told you -”

“I don’t buy it. You and Tobirama fight all the time and he’s Hashirama’s brother.”

Madara’s frown became a scowl. It pulled down his face, made him look older. “Do you think I should apologize to him?”

“You’re ignoring my point.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might just feel sorry?” Oh, there was some bitterness there. Mito peered at him. Hashirama wasn’t slumping around like a sad flower, so they couldn’t have gotten into a fight recently. But wait – he was moping a lot more. It wasn’t post-argument moping, it was more…

“Your marriage,” she said, nodding firmly. Yes, Hashirama’s moping was more… existential. He only got that way when he met a problem that couldn’t be solved by smiling – or by strength. Of all the powers in the world to drive him into that state of mind, she could name only one. And he was getting married very soon. “Let me guess – this you turning over a new leaf? Become a new man for your bride?”

Madara’s expression flickered. He hid it impressively fast but Mito grew up on the ocean. She knew something about mercurial forces.

“The village… has to unify, if it wants to survive past this stage. And personal grievances must be set aside. It wasn’t the marriage itself, but it has. Made me think.”

Her father used to say that marriage always changed men. Some of them really shaped up, became actual adults that could be trusted alone with a seal matrix. Or they just regressed and became boys with a mother they were allowed to have sex with. Out of them, there was that small handful who looked like they’d rather be anywhere but there, hiding winces when they looked at their wives.

Mito dropped from her porch. “Spar with me.”

She could feel Madara’s stare burning a hole in her back. “What?”

“You said you wanted to apologize, right? Well, this is your chance. I was always curious, with your reputation and all, about what’d be like to fight you. So. Let’s go.”

“Here?” She heard Madara getting up. “Now? It’s not -”

Mito looked over her shoulder. No matter how reluctant his words were, she could read his body like a book. He was tense as a bowstring. “Please. I’ve always wanted to hit you.”

She’d spent all this time wondering why he kept looking anywhere else but her. No matter how much Madara tried to look submissive, no matter how much he apologized, he always looked in a different direction when he did it. Now, though, he was finally meeting her eyes and they told her all the truths his mouth wouldn’t. 

He was angry. Raze the land, salt the earth angry. That sort of rage couldn’t be put out by apologies and gifts. No matter what he said, he came here looking for only one thing and Mito was done and tired of beating around the bush. 

Madara snorted. The moon hit his face when he hopped off the porch, bringing out the blue of his hair. “Funny. I could say the same.”

Mito had just enough time to bring her arm up to block his overhead axe kick. It rattled her down to the bone. She slammed her knee up, but he caught it and twisted. Mito followed the motion, her heel flying and missing when he bent backward.

She begrudgingly had to admit that he earned every bit of his reputation. Madara fought beautifully. Like he’s dancing, was what Hashirama used to say, back when they were still at war. Did you see? Not a single motion wasted.

He drove his elbow into her shoulder. Mito punched him in the ribs. Neither of them used chakra as they fought. They said nothing. He kicked out her knee. She clawed his face on the way down. The moon witnessed them fight uncaringly.

Mito grabbed his fist but it was just a feint. He swept low and kicked out her feet. She didn’t collapse, catching herself, but went still when she felt his hand on the back of her neck. One squeeze and he’d crush her spinal cord.

That was fine. Mito hadn’t expected to win anyway. Her hair had come loose from its braid. His yukata was half-open from where she’d grabbed it. They were both breathing hard. She’d hit him several times and she was satisfied with that. He’d be bruised come morning.

“I know you look at him,” she said, still bent. “You’re very obvious.” Madara squeezed warningly. She ignored it. Madara was angry? That was fine. She was just as angry too. “You want to hate me? Go ahead. I would’ve married him anyway.”

She’d been nineteen, the same age as Hashirama. It was a match that made itself, one of Ashina’s daughters for one of Butsuma’s sons. It revitalized their old alliance, preserved their trade agreement, and any new Mokuton users would surely be half-Uzumaki. Mito read the marriage contract herself. It fucking made sense.

She didn’t stop there. “Honestly speaking, I have no idea why you’d get married. It has to be making you miserable. But then again, talking to me has to be making you miserable too. You’re trying to become a better man? Hah.” Mito laughed. Madara let her go. When she looked up, his eyes were bleeding into the Sharingan.

“You don’t even love him,” he accused. He took a step back from her, his hands clenched into fists. She imagined her blood on his white hands. He was probably imagining the same. “Ten years you’ve been married, and you don’t.”

“Cry me a river. I did what I had to do.” Mito stood up and fixed her yukata. She didn’t fix her hair. “You know, I think I get it now, what you’re getting at. You can’t have Hashirama and you can’t blame me like you want to. You can’t blame him either, because he always wanted peace with you. So you’re angry and you have no one to blame but yourself. So what do you do?”

Madara bared his teeth at her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s right. You man up and punish yourself. How do you do that? By doing the one thing you never, ever wanted to do. You find some poor girl and you find a reason to marry her.”

“Shut up.”

Mito looked into his face. He was a hair away from breaking and they both knew it. She could back down now and he could pretend he wasn’t picturing her dead. They could go back to circling each other.

Mito curled her lip. Fuck no. Enough of the bullshit.

“You probably tell yourself that you’re doing it for a good reason. It’s for the village, or it for making things right. But you’re so shit at it! Even when you’re trying, you just keep breaking things. And you know what? I don’t care! I’m not the one who did this to you. You want to be unhappy? You want to be miserable? Fucking fine, go ahead, and do it the hell alone.”

“Shut up!” He lunged for her. His hands closed around her neck and that was it. Mito activated the seal that she’d prepared years ago after the first time she saw his eyes and the hatred in them. Chains exploded from her back and wrapped around his arms as her hands lit up, the seal matrix growing.

The sharp swell of chakra burned through her pathways and her eyes were being filled with red eyes with spinning wheels but fuck it all; Mito grabbed his stupid hair and kneed him one last time.

-

Tobirama reacted first. He reached the windows in time to see a swell of chakra from Hashirama’s home. A half-second later, Hashirama smashed through the same window.

The house was untouched but the back garden was ablaze. Hashirama smothered the flames, his chakra pushing away the smoke, and he found them both, Mito and Madara, collapsed in a ring of blackened grass.

-

“It wasn’t an ambush.” Tobirama sat down across from his brother, his arms crossed. Neither of them had slept a wink in the past forty-eight hours. “There was a bottle. Cups. They must’ve been already sitting together before they fought.”

Hashirama didn’t say anything. He’d spent the most of the last twelve hours assuring every clan in the village that it hadn’t been an attack, or the start of a civil war. The Uchiha were livid. The Uzumaki even worse.

“As far as I can tell, Mito used a seal on him. It seems to be a chakra suppressant. It explains why he’s still sleeping.”

Hashirama blinked hard. He never liked staying up but he had before, staying awake for days and days to fight or run or heal, and he’d never felt this way back then. Before, it’d been sleeplessness out of necessity, born from too much adrenaline. Now, he was so tired that he couldn’t sleep.

“Mito’s case is easier. Her chakra pathways show clear signs of disturbance. Probably he used the Sharingan on her just before she knocked him out. It’s all just recovery now.”

Tobirama was waiting for him to speak. Hashirama flexed his fingers and looked for the right words, but for the first time in his life, he was coming up empty. When he didn’t say anything for a long time, Tobirama sighed and put his hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” his little brother said. “Just. Go sleep, anija. I’ll take care of this.”

Hashirama let Tobirama guide him to the little cot in the corner. He laid him down, brushed his hair back, and tucked him in, and Hashirama closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The hours squeezed on by. He didn’t sleep. Below the earth, he felt deep roots groan.

-

Morning came in a shiver of gold, dawn’s silence split by birdsong, and he sat by Mito’s bedside, fresh flowers in the vase on her nightstand. Morning glories. They were her favorites. He’d once asked her why and she’d smiled her slow and knowing smile.

Because they’re blue like the ocean. And because they don’t last very long.

Mito’s face was peaceful in her sleep. She never had dreams. They’d been one of the first things she got rid of after learning how to tattoo seals on herself. She’d offered the same to Hashirama and he’d refused. It made his nights a lot less peaceful but that was a small price to pay to never forget.

Madara used genjutsu on her. From what the medics who’d already treated her could tell, it was a strong one to knock her out this long. Her brain activity had spiked abnormally, and then went low. Resting. They’d let her sleep, just to make sure the genjutsu’s aftershocks wore off, and now she was due to wake up.

Hashirama brushed his thumb over her smooth brow. Green chakra seeped from his hand into her head, soothing the aftermath of looking into the Sharingan. A minute passed. Her eyes fluttered open.

Mito stared at him for a few seconds, her pupils focusing, then she frowned a little. Blinked hard. “Hashirama.” She didn’t sound surprised.

“Good morning.”

“Ugh.” 

She sat up with a grunt, ignored his attempt to make her lay back down, and grabbed the glass of water that he’d prepared. She drained it quickly, then wiped her mouth. Hashirama watched to see if there was an unsteadiness, but she seemed to be holding out. Uzumaki were built tough. When he offered her the hair tie he was holding, she bent her head to let him tie her hair. She’d always hated having hair in her face.

Hashirama swept her hair up into a bun, careful to not pull out any knots. “How’re you feeling?”

“Damn awful.”

“Thought so. You’re cursing a lot more.”

 “Where is he?”

Hashirama hesitated. “In bed, same as you. He hasn’t woke up yet.”

“Huh.”

She didn’t look sorry. Hashirama couldn’t bring himself to be surprised. The years taught him a few things about his wife; Mito didn’t intend to regret a single thing she did, ever. Push her into a corner and she’d go down hitting everything she could reach. It was maybe why she and Madara got along so poorly. They were very similar people when it came down to it.

“Will you tell me what happened?” he asked gently. Technically, you weren’t supposed to push a genjutsu victim right after they woke up. It could trigger a resurgence. Hashirama, however, wasn’t feeling patient.

He wasn’t dumb. Or blind. Madara had always disliked Mito and she’d returned the favor. He’d always thought about trying to do something about it – make them spend time together, make them see how similar they were – but he’d just never had the time. The opportunity. Hashirama often felt like a little string holding together a team of raging horses that wanted nothing more than to run away from each other. It was always like this: he pulled the village together and Madara and Tobirama would start fighting. He’d paid them attention and Mito would be angry. He spent time with his wife and the village was on fire all over again. It was never-ending, a vicious cycle where all the important things in his life clashed. And he was just – he was just so damn tired of it. Was it too much to ask, for all the people in his life to just get along?

“Mito, can you actually tell me what happened?”

“Madara and I had a disagreement. So I finished it. We’re finally even now.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

Mito gave him a shrewd look. It was one of the things that Hashirama hated most, because all three of them, Mito, Tobirama, Madara, all of them, had the aggravating habit of thinking too hard and saying too little, right up until they reached critical.

“You wanna know why?” Mito handed him the glass. Hashirama went to the sink to refill it. “Isn’t it obvious by now? It’s always the same thing with him.”

“What is that?”

“You, obviously.”

Hashirama paused. The glass overfilled. Spilled over. He stared at the water running over his hand, thinking, me, me, Madara was talking about me, until he blinked and realized he should probably stop wasting water. He handed the wet glass back to her. He tried to keep his face neutral but from the looks of it, he probably was failing.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she demanded.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Look. It wasn’t – it wasn’t like he was ignoring it, or her. What he had with Madara, what they were doing with each other – it was complicated. Difficult. He himself didn’t know what he was doing half the time. All he knew was that he just. Cared. He cared a lot. He wanted to keep Madara close and Madara sometimes didn’t stay close and that made it even more complicated. Right now, though, what he did know was that he couldn’t sit down and spill his guts to Mito, because you couldn’t just tell your wife that your best friend getting married made you unspeakably jealous.

“God, Hashirama. Enough.” Mito put the glass down firmly. “You know what? I’m going to go say this now. Neither of us are stupid. The man’s obsessed with you. He’s always been.”

“It’s not obsession,” he protested, but Mito wasn’t having it. She leveled her finger at him. “You’re not helping either,” she said, low and accusing. Hashirama blinked, not expecting her to turn on him too.

MIto forged on. “I’ve been thinking about this – all of this. Where the hell did it start?” She began to tick off her fingers. “One, it starts with you two having another damn fight. Then, two, the Hyuuga come and Madara gets engaged to one of them.”

Hashirama bit the inside of his cheek, familiar jealousy raising its head inside his chest again.

“Three, you two stop fighting, but not really, because Madara just starts ignoring you instead. And you? You mope.” She made it sound like a heinous crime. 

He wanted to defend himself, but he couldn’t really find the words to. She was right. Mito usually tended to be. Fighting with Madara always made him queasy inside. Everything just felt worse when Madara was angry at him.

“He’s an idiot, but you know what? So are you. Both of you are just – just so damn stupid. You started this whole thing because you couldn’t leave him damn well alone and now he’s sulking about what that means, and it makes sense now, why you two fought for years after your fathers died.”

Hashirama’s head whipped up at the same time the floorboards under his foot cracked. He reigned himself in just in time before he did more damage, but the snap of wood seemed to echo. Don’t get angry, he told himself. She’s frustrated too. And she’s recovering from genjutsu. Aggression is common.

Mito didn’t even flinch. She’d never flinched when Hashirama’s chakra flared. It’d been part of the reason why Hashirama began to really like her back then. But this was still a low blow. She wasn’t involved. She couldn’t bring up certain things.

“You’re going to stress yourself,” he said. “Your mind was put under a lot of pressure during the genjutsu, you need to rest -”

He jumped when Mito slammed the glass again. It cracked. “Don’t you dare start with the medical spiel,” she snapped. “I watched Uzushio burn for seventy-two hours. I had time to think and you’re going to let me finish. Back then, I thought Madara was being unreasonable! I thought that he was the one who needed to back off! But no - you're the same. You know what this is? Both of you, pissing and moaning because you can’t stand being replaced.”

Hashirama rocked back, as if slapped. Replaced? He wasn’t doing anything like that.

He was just – worried. He was concerned. He wanted the best for Madara, that was all, he wanted him to find someone he could actually be happy with. He wanted him to be actually understood. Madara, more than anything, needed that. Someone who saw past his harsh face, who wasn’t afraid of his temper; someone who knew how kind he was, how good he could be, someone who’d feel every bit of admiration and reverence Hashirama felt looking at him.

“I live with you, Hashirama.” Mito swung her feet out and stood up. She had to grab the wall, but she raised her hand when Hashirama rose to help. “You should see your face whenever his marriage comes up. You’re always talking about Madara finding someone who’ll understand him, but really, you just want him to always come to you.”

He felt like he was balancing on the edge of an epiphany. One a long time coming.

“Mito, I -”

I – what? What was he trying to say? Somehow, I’m married to you was the only thing that came to mind. It was inane, it was off-topic, but it felt like he should be telling her that, telling himself that. They were married. He was her husband. He couldn’t afford to let himself think about what she was saying. But Mito was sharp. Had always been sharp. She could always see right through him, just like Madara, and damn it, she was right. 

Hashirama remembered being nineteen and scared shitless. He remembered the girl sitting in front of him, equally scared. He didn’t know her and he didn’t want to marry her, but doing it had been a little easier if he kept thinking about all the ways she was just like Madara.

Mito stopped in front of him. He blinked. When had she gotten there?

She put her hand on his shoulder and held on tightly. “Hashirama,” she said, her voice firm, “for all our sakes, I think you’re going to have to decide what the hell you want.”

“... you,” he said lamely. It came out rehearsed.

“I think we’re a little too old for that now,” she said, not unkindly. “Madara was right about one thing. We’ve been married ten years, and we don’t even have a kid to show for it.”

She was still in the papery little hospital gown and her face was pale, but she held herself proudly, chin jutted out. He remembered what he’d thought earlier: Uzumaki were built tough. And he’d been wrong, because she was involved. She probably had been since the second she came into his family. And instead of drowning in that storm, she’d  waded right through, her head held high. Of course. She was from Uzushio. She grew up swimming inside of whirlpools.

Mito left him there, like he was the patient and she was his doctor.

[loki-fanfic-whore]

Consumed ch.1

Loki tries to help the newest Avenger with her control over her powers and her self-esteem

Taglist: @drakesfiance

Warnings: negative thoughts and head space, a lot of self doubt, anger issues, possible triggers, possible sexual situations

Chapter 1: Breathe

You could feel your thighs trembling. The fabric growing wet from your sweat. Languished panting fell from your pink lips and flustered face.

"Ah-Loki-we need to stop p-please." The way his name rolled from your tongue caused your core to tighten. Long slender fingers wrapped around your waist hoisting you up higher in the air.

"Hold it! Feel how shaky your muscles are? You are growing so strong." He spoke softly teasing you as he let go of your waist, your full weight on your toes and hands again as you stayed in the arched back bend. Your long hair enveloping your huffing face.

Loki walked to the table in the room and turned the music to the next song, chill slow music courses through the air as you cry out collapsing onto your mat. You could feel your muscles tingling at how long you had held the agonizing pose.

Loki chuckled and pulled the curtains open, flooding the room in light. You had stayed a crumpled mess on the floor. Letting your dark hair curtain your shamed face. You could hear his fluid movement through the room until you felt his hand brush the hair from your face.

"Honestly, little flame, how will you be able to keep up with the stamina of a God if you cannot even keep yourself up?" He teased cruelly as his green eyes drank in the sight of your pink cheeks and ragged panting. Your own eyes dilating at the musky smell of him.

"I do quite well in combat thank you. And I assure you my stamina is no concern of yours. I simply asked you to help me become limber and agile. As to keep me from becoming too clumsy on the field." You retorted sitting up. You swept your hair up into a high bun, but felt a few missed pieces falling back against your cheek and down your back. You pulled your top off to expose your chest, enveloped in a dark black sports bra and lightly sheened in sweat. You had always been heavier, but you had tried to embrace your curves after years of fighting it. You knew your limits and knew they were higher than many your size. You giggled softly as Loki blushed for a fraction of a second and looked away clearing his throat.

"What is wrong 'my prince'? Do you suddenly see something not to your liking?" You teased back before standing and stretching. You used your shirt to wipe the sweat from your forehead before continuing the stretches.

"Of course not. You are simply different than the women of Asgard. You seem....healthier..." he flustered for just a moment and you realized he was referring to your weight. You had caught him selecting his words carefully as to not offend you.

"Oh my God! Loki did you just call me fat?!" You feigned anger as you threw your sweaty shirt at him. He stood and looked at you angrily.

"How dare you put words into my mouth! You are a mortal and I am a God! I will not have it!" He started as he approached you menacingly. You rolled your eyes as he began acting childlishly.

"I think we have trained enough, since you want to act that way. Good night 'my prince'." You spoke curtly just as he got close enough to touch you, you turned and quickly left the room. You knew if you had stayed it would have ended up with the two of you fighting or fucking.

You had never actually fucked him before but the sexual tension between the two of you was so palpable you couldn't see how he hadn't just taken you by now. You refused to make the first move since this God was known for having a silver tongue.

You made your way quickly to your room and closed the door. You stripped the rest of your clothes off and made your way to the bathroom starting a shower. You looked at your body in the mirror as the water heated. You had rolls and stretch marks, scars and bruises, your nipples pierced and a tattoo of wisps and lines down one of your hips. The pattern was a symetrical mandala and helped to calm you, but all your mind went back to was Loki's remark that you weren't like asgardian women...you could only imagine large perky breasts and smooth skin in varying paleness...small waists and large child bearing hips...all of these women throwing themselves at the god... your heart sank as you tore yourself apart mentally. You stepped into the shower and scrubbed the day away, you had just finished washing your long dark hair when the alarms blared and you sighed. Quickly jumping out and toweling yourself you headed half naked into the living room.

"Whoa! Hey Embers, can you like not be completely fucking naked here for our brief?" Tony spoke as he waved a clinking scotch glass in his hands. You flipped him off and sighed.

"Yes because we all know I decided today was the day I would grace you with my delicious flesh." You half spat back.

"Sister Ember! My brother and I would greatly enjoy that view!" Thor roared in laughter at his own joke as he clapped Loki on the back hard enough to cause him to snarl. You had decided not to give Loki the pleasure of meeting his eyes drinking in the sight of you more than half naked.

"Is this important enough for me to stay here or can I go put on underwear at least?" You found yourself impatiently tapping your hand on your folded arms. You could feel stray water dripping down your various body parts.

"For fucks sake go get dressed! I can't have everyone focusing on their blood rushing from their heads because-!" You didn't wait any longer you quickly moved down the hall and back to your room. You stripped the towel off and grabbed your clothes. Black, all you ever wore was black due to your abilities. After donning panties and a bra you quickly pulled on black pants and a tanktop. You decided to leave your hair a watery mess around your face.

As you walked back you could hear Fury scolding the group and briefing them at the same time.

"These motherfuckers aren't very smart, but the issue is they have so many they will overpower you. I need you all to go in, get the fucking box, and get out. Stealth is key, so be fucking quiet!" He stood straight as you returned and stood silently listening.

"That's all. Get dressed and go. Dismissed." He spoke loudly as he pushed past you and out of the room.

You looked to the shocked room and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" You asked as Natasha swallowed silently.

"Uh-...well we need to go...and you...you need to-" she began but was stalling looking for anyone to help.

"Sister Ember!" Thor piped in, there was that fucking nickname Tony gave you...itll never leave apparently.

"You are to stay here with Loki and watch him while we go retrieve a box!" Thor grinned oafishly as you looked to the trickster God who refused to look up.

"Why must I stay?" You found yourself becoming defensive.

"Well...for one you are explosive... two you arent... quite adept at extreme cardio." Tony chose his words carefully and you scoffed, you could feel the heat beginning in your fingertips and climbing up your arms. Looking down you could see the black webbing up your pale skin.

"What the fuck is with all of you!? I know I am fat!" You cried the black was traveling faster now. It was in your bloodstream boiling you alive. The black had covered your hands and wrists and was quickly consuming your arms, you were sure your feet and calves were black as well.

Tony stood and moved towards you followed by Thor and clint.

"Please try to relax, I am sure Tony didn't mean it that way!" Natasha called out, but all you could feel was the extreme heat radiating off of you.

"Reindeer Games, we could really use your frosty powers." Tony called out as he tried to take your hand only to have you wrench your hand out of his.

"Don't touch me! I know you all look down on me! I can't control this! I can't help what happens! I don't look pretty or skinny or anything like any of you!" You were shrieking now, the black was consuming your ribcage, and had traveled up the side of your face, your eyes were dilated and becoming more and more black,soon you wouldnt be able to hold back.

A freezing cold hand clasped onto the back of your neck and gently held you snapping you back to reality as you gasped and shivered. You couldn't see who it was but by the widened eyes of the others you knew it was Loki in his Jotun form. You felt the heat beginning to cool as he enveloped you in a hug from behind.

"Shhhh, just breathe little flame. no one thinks ill of you. Tony is a twat. I,for one, think you are beautiful." You could hear his hushed tones and even if he was lying you knew him to be the God of lies. Slowly the others backed away as the blackness on your skin receded. Loki pulled you backwards down the hall and into your room. He released you and sat you on the bed.

"Why on midgard would you think that way about yourself?" He asked gently as he also turned back to a pale cream color. You kept your eyes trained on the floor.

" all my life...I've been ran, trained and pushed harder than any other due to my size....never for benefit...it was always out of malice to break me...to try to show me what I cannot do...you heard Tony...even you said I wasnt like your asgardians." You felt yourself begin to crumble in the depth of the reality. Loki took your face into his hands and shushed your mind with his seidr.

"I said no such thing little flame. I said you weren't like them. That is a compliment to you. The women from my home are not as beautiful as you." You let out a small sigh as you felt his thumb brush your cheek. You were crying again, your emotions running freely now. You were always like this after an outburst. Volatile is what everyone had called you. A liability.

"Stop it darling. I can hear you putting yourself down. Dont think like that." He spoke gently as he made you stare up into his green eyes.

"Just focus on your breathing and listen to me. You are still so young and need to just become aware of your abilities. In time I have no doubt you will be stronger than any of us, myself included." He smiled and released your face.

"...thank you 'my prince'... even if you are silver tongued." You spoke hoarsely. Loki sighed and paused looking at the door, his back to you.

"Rest little flame...you need to sleep after such an ordeal." and with that left the room.

You tossed and turned trying hard to sleep only to finally drift into a nightmare.

Fire, ash and embers fell from the sky raining all around you as you shivered. You were a small child, possibly 10 maybe younger. Your house had burned down leaving you in the snow shivering with your arms clasped around yourself. You could see him...the monster...the man who forced his imprint onto you. Who made you who you are. His body was covered in an inky black substance that dripped and oozed from his skin and mouth. Everywhere it toucbed began to catch fire and burn away. While trembling in numbness and fear you watched as his arms reached out and plucked you from the snow. You screamed and kicked as the black ink flowed onto your flesh like liquid, but it wasnt on your flesh...it was under it...you felt boiling heat consuming you as you screamed and kicked. The man's dripping black eyes shined in the burning carcass of the house.

"Let it consume you child. Let it have all of you." His voice was smooth and deep but only made you fight harder. You could feel the black ink splatter your face from him speaking.

Your eyes shot open as you sat up groggily. Your head was pounding and you could smell smoke. Jumping from the bed you ran down the hall

"Loki!" You screamed as you looked for the source of the smoke.

"What?! What is it?" Loki turned to look at you as you stood panting in the kitchen. He was standing holding the toaster angrily, smoke billowing from it. You felt the tightness in your chest ease as laughter escaped you. Relaxed laughter flooded the air as you watched Loki turn back to the toaster and curse it. You could feel the tension slip away almost fully as you pushed the God out of the kitchen and threw the now ruined toaster away. You made food for the two of you and sat a plate infront of the sulking Loki.

"I made you steak and potatoes....I figured you'd enjoy it more than burnt toast." You snickered as he scowled at you. You smiled as Loki pouted but still ate every bite of food. You found the silence kind of relaxing as your mind wondered.

How were the rest of the team doing? When would they be back? You felt your mind reaching darker depths. You remembered your dream and it got you thinking about your parents.

"Little flame?" Loki spoke gently sitting properly. He had an empty plate infront of him, but had no intention of leaving the table. Your pet name being uttered snapped you back to reality causing your eyes to flick to his.

"Hmm?" You half purred.

"...Tell me what is weighing so heavily upon you? What is consuming you?" He spoke softly but his stare deep and almost primal.

There was that word again...consume...

Loki swallowed saliva as black flashed through your veins quickly, just barely visible under your skin. If he had blinked at the right time he would have missed it.

"What is consuming me?" You repeat as you feel a hot flash travel up your body.

"I-I don't know what it is...I...I lost my parents and I was just a child and a man-or-erm a thing that looked like a man tied me up. He flooded me with...this." you held your hand up which was numb, your fingertips black which faded downward on your hand into your creamy skin.

Loki looked deep in thought for a moment.

"May I try something little flame?" He spoke casually as he gently scooted away from the table.

"Let us go to the training room...I need to be sure you will be willing and alright." He spoke calmly but you could feel your own heartbeat pick up. The inky black feeling in your veins. You pushed yourself from the table and followed him into the training room. He closed the blinds which left only the white artificial light cascading down on you.

"Trust me little flame." He spoke gently as he moved quickly towards you and began circling you. Your heart beat was throbbing in your ears now. You felt bile in your throat.

Loki's eyes flashed a deep green and he spoke again filling the deafening silence.

"I need you to strip down...."