#seriously the bed my sister's dog sleeps on is more comfortable than my bed!

[irbcallmefynn]

They need to make people sized dog beds those things are so god damn comfy

I mean yeah they're basically just giant pillows but c'mon. Advertise them as "Human Sized Dog Bed" there's such an obvious market for that.

Think about it, "What kind of person would buy something sized such that it will allow something human-sized to comfortably lay on it, whilst also being marketed as a product initially designed for dogs?"

*Note that this logic applies to all pet beds, dog beds were simply the one that sparked this thought*

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 18 ✿:+ Life, Death, and War. 

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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: MDNI, SMUT, p in v unprotected sex, pregnancy, doggy style, mention of oral, spanking, hair pulling, WAR, character death, labor, mention of forced abortion, NSFW themes, Sandor “my wife” Clegane, misogyny, angst, VIOLENCE, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, 

Word Count: 7.3K 

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The days were long preceding the war. Perhaps it was the pregnancy, or perhaps it was the anxiety of the coming war. Most likely the pregnancy. You were mostly confined to your chambers if not seated at the council table to set forth plans of war. A task not many pregnant women have done. Your belly was so swollen you could not see your toes as you looked down. Sleep was a rare thing for you to find, and nothing could satisfy your hunger. Hunger for plum cake, sisters stew, roast goose, and even dirt once or twice. As well as an unsatisfiable hunger for sex, it made you irritable and short tempered. You loathed that you’d have to suffer the discomfort another thirty days. But you would have the Eyrie in less than ten. You would birth in the Eyrie, just as your mother did. Such a bittersweetness. 

You began to feel more and more bonded with the little falcon that grew in your belly. Feeling them kick, and turn, even hiccup in your belly. Sandor tried to be by your side as much as he could. However he was the only man you trusted to ready your men for battle, so he took his position with the greatest seriousness. Though not as serious as he took his position as your husband, and father to your child. Any moment he was given he was bringing you meals of any kind you desired. 

However this afternoon was one where his duties drove him to the training yards. Lord Royce often did your bidding, sending as many ravens as the North had to as many Eastern houses as he could. 

Today, you got a response unlike the others you had gotten. It was from Lady Anya Waynwood. With your growing support against Baelish. Baelish blockaded the Vales resources, sending wheat, grains, fish, meat, and bread only to his supporting households. The smallfolk, and common born people starved with the Highborn houses that supported you. Lady Waynwood was urgently seeking your aid. 

“Mhphm.” You groaned and placed a hand on your belly as you felt a kick in your ribs. “I cannot believe it either.” You mumbled to the babe, before shrugging, “Well actually I can. Still it upsets me so.” You said narrowing your brows as you continuously rubbed your belly, pacing your room. 

You looked over your shoulder as the door to your chambers opened. Your husband hunched down as he entered through the door, too short for his stature. 

You placed the piece of parchment over an open flame, letting it burn away, “He has allowed the small folk of the Vale to starve whilst he feasts.” You said with an annoyance turning towards him. “And I have been asked to assist somehow.” 

“You slept?” He huffed stepping towards you, this scene was all too familiar now.

You looked up at him, “I did.” hardly, but you did sleep. Between the constant tending to the babe and the constant tending to the war that nipped at your heels  you found little time for such luxuries. 

“How long?” He placed a large hand on the back of your neck, halting your steps and guiding you back to your bed. 

“Long enough.” You sighed as you laid back down. You groaned in discomfort as you attempted to make yourself comfortable “Maester said-”

“Maester? You let that old greasy cunt-” He interrupted you, and you interrupted him.

“He knows best. Unless you can tell me how well my child grows in me– I am forced to allow that old greasy cunt to poke around my insides.” The thought did not please Sandor, but he chuckled lowly to himself. You rarely swore without his cock in you. But he always liked it when you did. He removed his boots, muddied from the training yards. You continued your previous remark, “Maester says that the babe strong, says it’s strong and progressing well.” You smiled softly running your fingertips along your stomach. Sandor turned away to remove his clothing. You could not see it, but the corner of his mouth slightly twitched upwards in what some would call a smile. Happy to hear the steady and healthy progression of your babe. Perhaps this one would be different from the one his mother suffered, or yours. 

As his last bit of clothing hit the cold stone floor, he was left in his small clothes. The sight made your hunger for sex rise. “Says it‘s all thanks to their father, strongest man in the seven Kingdoms.” You reached for the hand of your husband. 

As you squeezed it, he gripped firmly onto yours. Turning towards you, and laying in bed beside you. Though only late afternoon, he knew you’d only truly sleep in his presence. The weight of him entering your bed, made your body roll into him. 

He groaned softly, placing his free hand a top your stomach. “Let’s hope that’s all they get from me.” His eyes trailed down to your thighs, made more plump and lovely from your pregnancy. He grabbed hold of your inner thigh, running his hand up and down them.

It was strange. You wanted him, wanted him to touch you this way, wanted him to fuck you good and well enough that you’d not have to think of the war and the discomfort that sat on your bladder. But a bit of you, a large bit, could not allow yourself to feel desirable. Your thighs now had scars, not of battle but from your skin stretching to prepare for your baby. Your body had changed. You grabbed ahold of his hand, “Stop it.” You said with annoyance. 

He knew by your tone, it was not a tone of disgust, or unwilling, but of insecurity. “Never had an issue with it before.” He grumbled, losing his grasp on you and gently rubbing your thigh. 

You shifted uncomfortably, “I didn’t look like this before.” You looked into his deep brown eyes, as they gazed down at you.

He bit his lip, his eyes ravaging your plump form, “I like it.” 

You turned onto your side away from him, “Liar.” you rasped. 

He sighed at your unwillingness to see how beautiful you were. But seeing you in that chemise, he found himself hardening. The thin white fabric covered hardly anything at all. He admired the curves of your body, the new  “That feel like a lie?” He asked, pressing his hardened cock into your ass making him groan, and making you tighten around nothing. He grasped your chin in his large hand, forcing you to turn your head to look at him, “Don’t give a fuck what you look like. I’ll never tire of you.” he rasped into your lips. His tongue darted against your bottom lip. He pulled away from you, and his teeth grazed your ear as he whispered, “Get on top of me.” 

You felt heat rise in your body with his breath against your ear. You reached behind you, your hand roaming his hard stomach, getting closer and closer to his cock but never touching it. You knew just how to innocently tease him, “You always say a man is meant to fuck his woman.” You whispered as his mouth began to roam your neck. 

He sucked onto your sensitive skin, and it made an audible noise when he pulled away from you. “Aye. I’ll be fucking you. I just want to see you. All of you.” He kissed the skin of your shoulder as he pulled your chemise down. 

You turned towards him, “Sandor-“ you whined as you grasped hold of his wrist. 

His motions stopped, he looked at you “You don’t want it?” He was not angry, annoyed, or disappointed, simply wanted to know how to please you best in that moment. 

“I do.” You whispered, still insecure despite the encouragement your husband was eagerly bestowing onto you. 

He took your hand that held his wrist, and intertwined his fingers with yours. “Then let me serve you.”

You looked into his eyes deeply as he pressed his forehead against yours. “My body…” 

“Yes, your body.” He groaned, kissing your lips once more, he kissed you like he were drinking the finest and rarest of wine. As he pulled away he rasped, “That’s the fucking point, it’s yours. That’s all that matters. That it’s yours.” His hands grasped ahold of the pathetically thin fabric of your chemise, 

Your eyes never left his face as he tore it off your body with ease. As your breasts became exposed, his rough calloused hands grasped them without mercy. His mouth sucked onto the tender skin of your neck as his fingers pinched at your sensitive nipples.

He began to grind his clothed throbbing cock into your ass. He grabbed hold of your thigh, lifting it to give his cock better access to your cunt. You could feel the tip of his cock, warm and already leaking for you, pressing against the hot and swollen lips of your cunt. As if his cock were kissing the lips of your cunt. 

“I want it.” You moaned as you arched back into him, his lips still attached to your neck.  “I want it so badly.” You squirmed against his touch, lost in the ecstasy of your heightened sensitivity. 

“I want your cunt in my mouth,” He groaned into the hot flesh of your neck, 

You shook your head, tearing away from his grasp, and turning to face him, “Fuck I want you, Sandor.” You said as you held his face in your hands and tried so hard for your lips to catch his, desperate for any touch he’d give you. “I need you inside of me.” 

He liked to tease you, “Not sure I can give you that yet.” He said with a smirk, “I want to taste my wife first.” He rasped. 

You panted pathetically. You finally pressed your lips into his own, as you inserted two fingers into your own cunt, moaning into his mouth. He watched you in awe as you pulled your fingers out of your cunt, and presented them to him. He took your fingers into his mouth, taking in your taste. “Please,” You whimpered. 

He moaned as you pulled your fingers away from his mouth. “Fuck me,” You whispered sweetly. 

His mouth ravished yours as you practically clawed his underclothes off of his body. He pulled you off of him by your hair, “Get on top of me. I like to see your face when I sink into you.” And so you obeyed. Though you were unsure of how you’d support your weight under your weak knees long enough to ride him. But he’d thought of that, “I’ve got you,” you whispered as his large hands grasped your hips. He took you in for a moment as you straddled him, in awe of your beauty. His cock twitched beneath you as he took you in, you felt it tap at your core for just a second. You smiled at him as you lined his cock up with your wet cunt, “I’ve got you.” He whispered once more. 

You began to lower yourself, pressing his length into you. Your face contorted with pleasure and you threw your head back as you felt him pulsing inside of you. Sandor groaned in pleasure, and he ran his large hand from your throat, to your breasts, then your sides, then finally gripping your ass. “Fucking hells, woman.” He moaned through gritted teeth, his eyes unable to close for even a moment as he watched you bounce on his cock. He gripped onto your ass even harder as you clenched around him. He landed a firm slap against your ass, making you squeeze around him even harder and your eyes widened as you looked at him with surprise. “You liked that before.” 

“Again.” You moaned with a smirk, 

He smirked back at you, “There she is.” he groaned as he spanked you again, making you clench around him again, he hissed through gritted teeth. The pleasure your cunt gave was better than anything. This was sweeter than killing, this was sweeter than any wine or ale, sweeter than any whore he’d paid for. The best thing he’d ever had. 

Also uncontrollably he began to buck up into you, the head of his cock hitting your soft spot deep inside your cunt at an unforgiving speed. He looked up at your sweet face, eyes shut and face contorted from the pleasure, “Say those words again.” SPANK, “You know the ones.” he commanded through gritted teeth.

You opened your eyes, “I love you.” You moaned, “I -Ah!- Love you!” You could hardly speak a full sentence with his speed ever increasing, thrusting in and out of you. 

SPANK, “Again!” he commanded, SPANK, 

Your eyes rolled back, and you smiled as you moaned from the euphoria. “I love you,” you steadied your eyes and looked at him deeply, “Sandor Clegane-“ 

That was his breaking point, he pushed you off of him. You looked confused as he made you stand. 

Sandor walked you over to a chair in the room, but not to sit. No, Sandor began to position you, “Kneel.” Sandor commanded, and you obeyed. Kneeling in front of the cushioned seat. “Hold onto it.” He rasped into your ear as he took a hold of your hair. 

You leaned forward, laying your head against the cushioned seat, and your hands holding onto the arm rests. 

Sandor spread your legs, and you arched your back in response. Taking it a sign of your eager desire, he plunged himself back into you. This time thrusting himself in and out of you even harder, and faster. You now understood why he told you to hold on. 

One hand of his gripped at the plushness of your hip whilst the other kept a firm hold on your hair. His grip would tighten pulling your hair just the right amount. “My woman likes it hard,” he groaned as your cunt tightened around him, “I’ll give it to her hard.” He said with another firm spank. “Because she can fucking take it-“ he moaned, cunt drunk. His hand snaked around your thigh, and found your needy and neglected clit. His fingers toyed with it, pinching and circling it, finding just the right rhythm you needed. 

You moaned out louder and louder, not caring who heard you. 

You felt yourself release only this time it was different, somehow you released so much so quickly it was as if your water had broken. Only you knew it was that. 

The wetness splashed around Sandor cock making a vulgar noise as his cock continued to sink in and out of you. He’d never made a woman release like this before. He’d heard men in the kingsguard, or in brothels and taverns gloat about making a woman do what you’d just done. But he’d always believed they’d lied. 

But fuck, you did it, and for him. 

He hunched over as he felt himself cumming into you, kissing your shoulder in an attempt to mask his pathetic moans. 

“Was that wrong?” You whimpered into the cushion of the chair, too tired to get up. 

Sandor kissed your cheek, and plucked you up from the ground, carrying you to bed. “You’re perfect.” He grumped softly as he laid you into your warm sheets. 

As the both of you laid there. He held you close to his chest. You were nearly asleep when all of the sudden it came to you, 

“I’ve an idea.” You shot up in bed, no longer tired or worn out. “Write to my uncle Edmure Tully. Request his aid in feeding the small folk of the Vale. And Write to each of the largest houses in the Vale, I wish to speak to them in person.” 

Sandor covered his eyes and groaned. Even a good fucking couldn’t put you to sleep. 

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But he did as you asked. And so your uncle agreed to aid your cause as it was what honor demanded of him, and with such a great ally in such a seat of power as yourself he would do all he could to ensure your alliance was strong. Edmure sent Tully knights to deliver packages of food to the small folk of the Vale, and the many houses who supported you. All in your name. 

The people of the Vale now only furthered their support of you, and so did the great houses. Most were eager for the feast Lord Royce had created in your name. It was held in Runestone. You tried your best to wear something other than a robe and with Sansa’s sewing you managed to wear a gorgeous blue gown. 

At the table of the feast, you sat at the head of the table. Beside you, your husband, and to your other side, your brother. Lord Royce sat at the other end of the table and seated on either side of the table were heads of some of the largest houses of the Vale. Houses Belmore, Corbray, Egen, Grafton, Heresy, Hunter, Melcolm, Redfort, and Templeton. And of course houses Torrent, Longthorpe, and Borrell of the three sisters. 

You stood, raising a cup towards the heads of the great houses in front of you, “I thank Lord Royce for hosting such a feast in his home, and offering us all guestright. And I thank you all for coming here. I understand it is an uncertain time. And uncertainty can breed mistrust, paranoia, and unsteady judgment. So allow me to set your uncertainties right.” You said graciously, placing your cup down, “I am the Lady of the Vale. The King's command died with him, but my fathers did not. I am heir to the Vale, as declared by the North, Lord Royce, most of the Vales people, and my own brother Robin.” You said looking over to Robin, he smiled and nodded to you. Your voice turned slightly sterner, “I do not need any of your blessings to take these titles; however I understand and respect how long your houses have sat on this land. I want you all to know a war will be fought on these lands.” You said wanting them to know war was coming, and it was time for them to decide where they fell, “You’ve been starved. Smallfolk have been starved. I have brought you food, brought the smallfolk food, not Littlefinger, but I.” You reminded them as they ate the very food that you graced them with, “I ask for you to not forget your oaths.” You finished as you sat in your seat.

You looked around the table, waiting for someone to say something. 

Lady Waynwood stood, “Your rations have fed our people, saved some from death itself. You have come to our side, offering aid in a time of need and without us begging for it.” She raised her cup towards you, “We shall come to yours.” She said with a nod. 

Lord Belmore stood as well raising his cup to you, “Woman or no, you are the blood of Jon Arryn.” 

You looked over to Sandor, exchanging glances at the Lord's thinly veiled prejudice. Then turning your gaze back to the Lord, and smiling with a nod of gratitude, taking any support given. 

“Fuck Littlefinger.” Ser Symond Templeton grumbled as he stood holding a cup towards you, “We’ve not forgotten.” 

Lord Horton Redford stood holding up his cup, “To Lady Arryn, the mother of the Vale!” 

“Nay, the defender of the Vale!” Lord Eon Hunter interjected, as he raised his cup as well. 

And with that each of the Lords at the table stood, cups rose in honor of you. Even Lords Longthorpe, and Borrell of the three sisters stood. You felt for a moment, a wave of relief, Tyrion was wrong. You would not need to send the Hill tribes to do your bidding and perhaps you’d created peace, a new generation of unity by House Arryn and the Three Sisters. Something your father was never interested in doing. 

However, as your own brother stood for you, you looked over to Sandor who was glaring at a man down the table. Lord Torrent, Lord of Little Sister. The man sat not cheering and celebrating like the other Lords and Lady did. He frowned and ate from the food your family gave to him.

“Lords and Ladies.” You said, making them all halt their celebration, “Lord Torrent, clearly has something to say. By all means, my Lord Express it.” You said with a calm and gentle tone. However the grimace on your husband's face set a much more tense feeling in the room. 

The lords all looked towards Lord Torrent, who scoffed as he spoke, refusing to look at you, “I have something on my mind. I speak of this perversion done to this land.” He said angrily, his eyes settled onto you angry and piercing, “Never hand a wench a-” 

“Sword when she has her blood.” You finished his sentence, unafraid of him “I have heard the joke.” You said with dark eyes, your husband beside you clenched his fist. 

“Shut your mouth, you drunken oaf!” Lord Royce demanded, 

“Why should I?” Lord Torrent snapped back at him, 

“The Arryns saved you from the Starks long ago. The rape of the Three Sisters, you swore felty to her house!” Lord Borrell shouted.

Torrent looked towards you, “Your house’ done nothin’ for us.” 

“She’s fed you!” Lady Waynwood attempted to defend you.

Torrent's eyes didn’t leave you, “One meal after a generation.” 

You leaned forward, “Your house sits upon my land, if I find you are unworthy of its soil… I will shake the ground it sits on until the vermin shatter out of it.” Your eyes narrowed.

“You wouldn’t dare-“ Lord Torrent stood, 

“But I have. Did you not hear me? I have dared.” You smirked and nearly hissed at him, 

Lord Torrent, sat reluctantly, huffing to himself like a spoiled child. 

You did not release him from your violent gaze until he let out a final sigh and nodded. Silently agreeing to aid your cause. 

Now you would be able to tell Tyrion you were right, you would not need the aid of anyone to gain the sisters allegiance.  

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You did not relish in such a victory for very long however. You were soon back and seated at the council table in Winterfell.

You stared intensely out the window, unsure of the future and uneasy by the many possibilities of it. “War shall be fought on the marrow. At day break.” You declared. 

Tyrion nodded, “We’ve the support of nearly each house within the Land. The others, though few, remain neutral.” 

You contemplated as you asked, “What is our standing?” 

“We greatly outnumber the pretenders.” Lord Royce said proudly, 

“How great?” You pushed the question further.

“Greatly.” Tyrion said before continuing  “Though we set forth to accomplish a supposed impossible challenge. And one that if accomplished allows for speculation of how invulnerable the Eyrie might be.” He said cautioning you.

You raised an eyebrow at Tyrion, “Though that might be. It is a necessity.”

“But perhaps,” Tyrion attempted to continue, 

“I was right about the hill tribes, Tyrion. Allow me to handle the well being of the Vale.” You said calmly but sternly. Setting him in his place. You then pulled out a scroll of parchment, “I’ve written this. This is the plan of battle you and your men will follow.” You held out the scroll towards your husband but pulled it away before Sandor could grab it, “None of you can open it until you’ve left for battle.” They looked at you with confusion, “The element of surprise is key. If it were to be exposed all would be lost.” Sandor nodded and took the scroll from you. “I shall see you off on the Marrow then.” You said to the rest of the men in the room. 

As you and your husband walked out of the council chambers your brother caught up to you,

“I want to fight. Fight for you, and your child. For my mother. For our father.” Robin said as he walked alongside you.

You nearly rolled your eyes, and smirked at him “You believe you’re cut for it?” you asked, not halting your steps. 

“I know that I am.” Robin said confidently, 

“Or you’re young and arrogant.” You said, not meaning to be mean but meaning to convince him to stay away from the fight.

“Or I’m not.” Robin retorted, 

“Or you are.” The two of you were arguing like brother and sister. It was a new role you played being a sister, but you enjoyed it. You smiled as you placed a hand on his cheek, “You’re the last living male Arryn. It is a heavy burden you hold.” 

Robin felt himself wanting to cling to the nurturing embrace you gave him but he was no longer a child. He sighed, “Your child could be a boy-“

“A Clegane.” You corrected, “As honored as I am to bear it, they will not be an Arryn.” You said knowing your husband was there to hear it.

Robin stepped closer to you, “There is precedence for noble ladies keeping their own name and giving it to their children in order to keep their families line. Whatever child inherits your titles would remain an Arryn.”  

Sick of circling the subject, you said plainly, “I have mourned all the family I can, Robin. Do not challenge me.” You said placing a hand on his cheek once more.

“Do not coddle me like my mother did.” He said removing your hand, and looking at your husband. Sandor, the Hound, a man who was quite clearly the complete opposite of Robin,  “Your husband fights for you, so I shall fight beside him.” He said with a confident and determined nod.

Your steps halted once you reached your chambers. You looked at Robin defeated, “I cannot keep the sword from your hand either?” Robin shook his head, and you sighed  “Fine then.” 

“I will not disappoint you, sister.” Robin vowed with confidence, 

You shook your head, “You couldn’t.” You said with a smile that thinly veiled your worry.

WIth that, Robin smiled somberly and left you as you and your husband entered your shared chambers.

As Sandor closed and locked the door behind you he contemplated speaking his mind on this topic, but did anyway. “He’s not ready.” Sandor said with a sigh, knowing it would be a bad idea. 

You huffed in frustration as you threw your hands up, “He’s nearly a grown man. I cannot stop him Just as I cannot stop you.” 

Sandor stepped closer to you, placing his large hands on your sides. “Someone should be here, with you.” 

You smiled softly as his concern, “I have my cousin. I have the maester, and all the midwives a woman would care to have. Besides, it is too early for laboring.” You ran your hands down his arms, “I don’t want you to fight.” 

He shook his head, placing a hand on your stomach, “I told you I would get you that castle.”

“I release you from that promise.” You said, knowing your words would change nothing.

“I don’t. What husband doesn’t fight for his woman, for his family?” He rasped

You held onto sandors wrist, “You must come back to us.” 

Sandor nodded, knowing he could not promise that he would. 

He looked at your face, wanting to memorize every bit of you. Tomorrow war may take him from you, and he was determined to keep your image with him. He wanted to memorize every bit of you, “Take this off.” He said as his eyes trailed over your body with a lascivious gaze.

You held back a giggle as you smirked, “You want my favor before you go to battle?”

He leaned in closer to you, making you tilt your head, “I want to taste your cunt before I go to battle.” He groaned against you.

“That shall serve nicely as my favor.” You said looking up at Sandor with half lidded eyes. 

You let out a small yelp and squeal as Sandor picked you up and carried you to the bed. He would make sure that night you slept.

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Sandor had left you in your bed, naked, and sound asleep. 

He was not going to wake you no matter how many times you told him to wake you before you finally fell asleep. He watched you as long as he could before it was time for him to set off.

He believed you to be in a deep sleep, but without the warmth of your husband you woke.

So you could imagine Sandor’s surprise to see you walking towards him in the courtyard of Winterfell.

“What are you doing?” Sandor asked frustratedly, 

You responded with a matching frustration, “You know what I am doing.” 

He stepped closer to you, “You need to be in bed-” 

“I am staying here, as you have insisted once again. I cannot send men into battle without offering them my words.” You interrupted him, and leaned in closer to him, “I won’t be seen as weak again.” You told him in a whisper. He understood no matter how reluctant he might have been. 

He turned away from you and looked towards the crowds of soldiers that readied to depart for war. “Your Lady has words for you all. So fucking listen!” He shouted. 

You hid your nerves by holding your head high, “Northernmen, you march forth to fight for house Arryn. A house that has meant nothing to any of you for generations. But I have fought for your lands, your lords, and your lives. You now fight for loyalty and honor.” You knew Northerns had much less reason to aid your cause than the Valemen did, so you clung to honor. “Valemen, you march forth to fight for House Arryn. Ancient blood, of an ancient house. You fight for a rightful succession. Though none of it matters really. What matters is that your land is held hostage by a usurper. A man who drove the crown into debt, a man whose success was built upon the foundations of brothels and secrets, a man who has seen no battles, a man who has allowed your families to starve.” The Valemen began to murmur, and shout words of support, “A man who killed your Lord and Lady.” You said somberly, “You fight for liberation of your people.” You said confidently, “You set forth to succeed an impossibility. No one has ever done what we set forth to do. But the Eyrie is weakened without you all. After today, the realm will know our wrath, and will come to fear the color blue.” As you finished the men pointed their swords in the air and they railed in support. 

“Sister.” Robin said sweetly as he approached you,

You placed a hand on his cheek as you said, “Be vigilant, brother.” 

Robin hugged you quickly, too scared to let the other knights see. Once he released you he nodded and took his place on his horse. 

Your attention turned as Sandor took your hand. 

“Wife.” Sandor said, his way of saying goodbye in front of other men. 

You however would not allow him to leave without a bit of you. “My favor.” You said as you handed him a handkerchief that was embroiled with your initials. 

He took the cloth from you, looked at the initials embroidered onto it, “You already gave it-” He said, teasing you.

“Another.” You interrupted him as you took him by his cheek. You and he kissed one last time before he rode off. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Though your armies greatly outnumbered Baelish’s, he held the advantage. The Eyrie held high ground and archers. 

You knew this, and if they did not open their gates willingly, even with climbing spokes it may take a mountain of dead men to climb the walls.

Tens miles out from the battle, Jon, Royce, Sandor, and Robin opened your highly secretive plan. 

Royce looked it over, “She wants us to fake a surrender.” Lord Royce scoffed, “Is she mad?”

“Easy.” Sandor said with hard eyes, warning Royce.

Robin nodded, “We will need to take the Eyrie from the inside.” He said confidently that you knew what you were talking about, “This is the only way inside. She knows we will need an offering of flesh.” He thought for a moment and then said, “I’ll do it.”

“No.” Sandor snapped, knowing if something were to happen to Robin, you would only blame yourself. 

“Yes.” Robin said, making Sandor huffed at him, making Robin’s confidence dwindle, “I-I mean it is only that he would only believe a surrender from an Arryn.” 

“The young Lord is right.” Jon said with reluctance.

Sandor knew he could not stop it, so with a sigh, he continued “I’ll lead the men inside.” 

“We’ll be behind you.” Jon said with a nod.

Royce, though not thrilled with your plan, committed himself, “Our men will use the climbing spokes once you’ve overwhelmed them inside. Then we will open the gates.”

And with that, the plan was in motion. The battle of the Mockingbirds and Falcons began. As your men arrived at the Vale, they hid themselves behind the natural advantages of the landscape. Hiding behind large rocks on the edges of cliffs.

Only allowing Robin to move in. However your men were not far behind.

The arches at the top of the gate aimed as Robin walked towards the Bloody Gate, holding a crude white flag. Robin waved it desperately. 

“The Lady Arryn asks for mercy for her and her child!” Waving a white flag of surrender, Robin fooled Baelish’s commanding knight and several soldiers. 

They opened the gates, the commanding knight stepped out with several soldiers beside him. . The commanding knight looked at the horizon seeing no sign of an ambush, he sent his men out to investigate if they had truly surrendered. Robin bent the knee as he drew his sword and offered it. His distraction allowed for your forces to approach unnoticed. One soldier takes up the sword and inspects it, only for your own arches to ambush the soldiers. Drawing and releasing their arrows killing the commanding knight and the soldiers that accompanied him. This offered some time for Sandor and Jon to rush the gates with their men. 

Sandor and Jon along with their men proceeded to kill all of the approaching soldiers as Sandor made his way closer and closer to the gates of the moon, causing them to send out more men. As the battle continued, the archers were overwhelmed. Lord Royce’s men took it as an opportunity to climb the walls of the gates. Killing all the remaining archers. Royce’s men then opened the gates allowing the Eastern forces to charge in and cut down the remaining soldiers. 

The battle raged on, though Baelish’s forces dwindled quickly once your forces passed the gates. As the Eastern houses fight off the last of the Baelish’s soldiers, Sandor pursues the Eyrie. Cutting down each man in his path. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You looked out your window, waiting impatiently for a raven to arrive with news, any news at all. But all you saw was snow. How terrible you felt watching snow fall, knowing miles away your family fought for you.

As Sansa enters the chamber you began, “I feel like a coddled child by both my Husband, Lord Royce, and somehow SweetRobin of all… Even you.” You looked at her with slight contempt.

“All people who hold fondness for you.” Sansa said coldly as she stepped towards you. “None of us desire to see you or your child harmed.” 

You shook your head softly, “I’d not fight. Gods knows I can hardly see my feet anymore.” You said, making Sansa chuckle softly. “But I am left here, to worry, and pray that those men I entrusted with such plans do not disregard my orders and take their own.” 

“Your husband would not allow it.” She said, and you knew it was true. 

“Left here to worry for who will fall.” You said solemnly. You worried once again that you would leave without your husband, and now you worried for your brother, and your cousin. 

Sansa took your hand, “Then we shall worry together.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As your forces laid a successful siege to the Eyrie, Baelish knew his reign was over. He opened the doors to the Eyrie, stepping out of it he looked at Sandor. “I surrender.” Baelish said with a smug sigh, as if he expected to be untouched if he surrendered willingly. 

He was however wrong. Sandor marched over to Baelish. Sandor pummeled his fist into Baelish’s face. Amazed he didn’t break his jaw on impact, Sandor grabbed hold of him by his throat, 

“I take it you want to crush my skull, break my bones? Is this how Clegane’s define justice?” Baelish attempted to ask as his windpipe was being crushed. 

“Aye.” He said roughly, he relished seeing the fear in his eyes. The eyes of the man who kissed you without your say, the eyes of the man who held you against your will, the eyes of a man who forced you to drink moon tea, the eyes of a man who attempted to marry you off to the Boltons. He knew that he wasn’t his to kill. Sandor let him go, “But that’s not how your Lady defines it.” Sandor turned to the knights around him, “Put him in a cell. Do nothing until my wife takes her place here.” 

“My Lord,” Ser Leon said with some urgency, “It is your brother by law.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

Sandor and Ser Leon made their way to the gates of the moon. As he arrived he saw many soldiers mortally wounded from the battle. But the one that caught his eye was your brother. Robin lay with an arrow through his chest. 

Sandor looked to the healer that was standing over the boy's body, “The boy is dead.” The young healer said plainly. 

Sandor looked upon the boy, he did not know him well. But when he looked at the boy's face all he could think of was you, and how your heart would break. “Seven fucking hells.” 

“Send a Raven to our Lady.” Ser Leon said to a young squire somberly with a sigh. 

“No.” Sandor commanded, grabbing the squire by the collar, “Speak nothing of it.” He said with intensity in his eyes. If you were to know, it would be told to your own ears with him by your side.

The squire swallowed nervously, then squeeked, “My Lord-“

Sandor’s grip on the boys collar tightened as he pulled him closer, “If my wife- Your Lady hears of this from a piece of fucking parchment it’ll kill her.” His tone was raspy, dark and deep. 

The squire, though terrified, blurted out, “My Lord, a raven has already been sent.”

Sandor let go of the squire's collar, stepping away for a moment. He knew his time was running thin, he knew this news would break you. If he left now on horseback, and did not stop until he reached Winterfell perhaps he could get there before the raven did. “Give me my fucking horse!” Sandor barked as he turned back to squire.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You and Sansa sat in the council room. Waiting for news, a sign, anything. Just as you did days before. 

The wait was horrid. The uncertainty was worse. You could only hope and pray that you were not a widow. 

What you did not know was that your husband was only a few miles away on a horse charging towards you, and you also did not know that a raven had just arrived. 

As you stared out the window of the chamber, Sansa looked to you. 

“What is it like?” Sansa asked. Looking at your swollen belly. 

“Like carrying a child in your body. A child that kicks at your ribs and makes you sick in the mornings.” You said in a blunt and snarky tone, it made Sansa smile slightly. “It is wonderful.” You said more genuinely as you ran a hand along the side of your belly.

“You carry it well.” Tyrion said as he and a guard entered the room,

Sansa helped you as you stood from your seat, walking towards the council table, “Has there been any word?” You asked with furrowed brows, desperate for any knowledge. 

Tyrion and the Guard looked pensive as the Guard began to speak. “My Lady, the Eyrie has been taken in your name. Littlefinger was taken alive, he is being held as a prisoner awaiting your judgment in the Eyrie.” Sansa breathed a sigh of relief for you as she grabbed hold of your hand. You looked to her, in disbelief as a wave of relief washed over you, “My Lady, there is more.” You looked back at the guard with terror in your eyes, not wishing to hear the words you knew you were about to hear.  “Your half brother Robin Arryn was struck down by an arrow-“ Your knees felt weak as the guard continued to talk, “whilst your armies laid siege.” 

You grasped your throat, and felt yourself become breathless. “Are you alright?” Sansa asked you, placing a hand onto your back,

You ignored her question, “What of his condition?” Your voice was strained as a pain in your back began.

The man paused briefly, unsure of how to phrase his words best, “He is dead, my Lady.” the man said softly.

Your tears came, you grasped onto the table and hunched over in pain as the pain grew and grew, “Fuck,” You hissed exasperated through your tears. You grasped onto your stomach as you felt a warm liquid trickling down your leg, “The babe, the babe is coming.”

Tyrion stepped closer to you, concerned, “Are you certain? It is too soon.” 

“Fuck!” You struggled to say the words as your water broke, falling onto the floor. 

Sansa tried to take hold of you, to prevent your knees from buckling and falling to the floor. 

Tyrion turned to the guard and shouted, “Get the Maester, and as many midwives as Winterfell has!” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Once Sandor reached the Gates of Winterfell his horse was near death from exhaustion. He looked to the Guards at the top of the gates.

“Open the fucking gates!” Sandor barked, 

The guards knew who he was immediately. A man like the hound is not one that you would ever forget. 

As the gates opened Sandor grabbed a hold of the nearest guard, 

“My Lord-” The guard nearly squeeked, 

“Where is my wife?” Sandor growled, 

The guard, frightened, began “S-she has begun her labors, my Lord.” 

Sandor felt his heart drop to his stomach, and his stomach drop to his feet. He didn’t know this feeling very well, was it excitement? Fear? He did not know. 

“How long?” Sandor questioned. 

The man shook his head, “Not even an hour, my Lord… She began when she heard of her brother's death.” 

Sandor groaned, angry that he was not faster, “Fucking hells, bring me to her, NOW!” 

NOTE:

HI- i’m literally so sorry this took so long. if you girls knew what was going on in my life….. omg. anyways please enjoy !!! again i’m so sorry lol. but that isn’t stopping me from blue balling yall with the baby AND Baelish getting canned.

K love you, xoxo

Bambi

Support or Request > ♥️♥️♥️

Beloved Tags: 

@dontfollowjuststuff @merfic @broadsdrinkwhisky  @vikingswhore0

@the-queen-of-sorrows @eddiesbongwater @not-neverland06  @symonedoesart 

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@drymushroomfics @dream-a-little-nightmare @lavenderbreeze3 @hotvillianapologist

@childofheresy @xioxiol0l

[sun-marie]

I was tagged by @full---ofstarlight to do this super fun oc questionnaire! Thank you so much for tagging me <33 Since BG3 brainrot is still very much a thing I thought I'd do my two tadpole kiddos 💜

--

NAME: Zephyr Elowen Skybreeze, “Zephyr” to honor her late father, “Elowen” being her mother’s maiden name, and “Skybreeze” as her paternal family name

NICKNAME: None really, although her grandfather does teasingly call her “powder puff” from when she was a little girl 🤜🏽💨

GENDER: Cisfemale

STAR SIGN: I’m not much of an astrology person (which is ironic bc I think Zephyr is lol), but I’m going to go with Aries 🔆

HEIGHT: 5’ 5 - 5' 6 ~ish

ORIENTATION: Pan~

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: She was born in Mosstone, south of the Forest of Tethir, by her wood elf mother and air genasi father, the latter of which died before she was born. She was raised by her mother and her paternal grandfather while her paternal grandmother traveled. When she was 15 she moved with her family to be closer to her dying grandmother in Baldur’s Gate, where she continued living into the present day. Zephyr considers herself a Baldurian, a Mosstonian, and a member of the Elmanesse Tribe through her mother.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Pears, but really any pome fruit 🍐🍎🍏

FAVORITE SEASON: Winter, she enjoys the quiet of the freshly fallen snow ❄❄❄

FAVORITE FLOWER: Apple Blossoms

FAVORITE SCENT: Incense

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Tea for sure, her favorite is Chamomile (but also she is absolutely not above a good cup of hot cocoa by the fire)

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: Generally, a good solid 8, but during the course of the game she’s been having pretty bad sleep and can’t sleep for more than 3 hours without waking up :(

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs! While she likes both, she values the unconditional love/loyalty of dogs, and they are basically the only kind of animal that isn’t instantly intimidated by her / stand-offish to her.

DREAM TRIP: It’s a little corny I know, but I really do think she’s wanted to go to Waterdeep, the “✨City of Splendors✨”, ever since she started seriously pursuing a life of academic study.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 2, a comforter that remains on her bed and a smaller lightweight that she carries from room to room like a cloak lol

RANDOM FACT: Before the events of the game, she had been on a trip to the library of Candlekeep for a little over a week on an academic field trip sponsored by her (currently unnamed) monastery. It was on her way back home that she was kidnapped by Mind Flayers, and all but 2 of the tomes she had been allowed to take home with her were destroyed. Her family had expected her back in less than two days from then, only to be met with radio silence for months as every message she tried to send was shot down.

--

NAME: Ruathym Dhalmass, one of the last of the ""distinguished"" Dhalmass line

NICKNAME: He finds other people’s reaction to him being quote “one of the good ones” pretty funny because it speaks more to surfacer’s lack of experience with Drow than the quality of his moral character. He doesn't consider himself a good person and he knows Drow in the Underdark (his sister for one) who are much more “upstanding” than him. So now Ruathym being “The Good Drow” is kind of an inside joke in the party.

GENDER: Cismale

STAR SIGN: I’m gonna go with Taurus 🐂

HEIGHT: 5’ 9

ORIENTATION: Bi

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Ruathym is a Seldarine Drow, and he and his older sister spent most of their early childhood as orphans in the wilds of the Underdark after their parents were killed by Lolth-sworn extremists. Eventually, when Ruathym was about 12, they came upon a Druidic Circle consisting of a colony of Myconids and a few drow and deep gnomes. They took Ruathym and his sister in, and gave Ruathym his deep appreciation for “underrepresented” organic life such as fungi. When asked about his nationality, Ruathym usually just shrugs and says “The Deep”

FAVORITE FRUIT: Pomegranate

FAVORITE SEASON: Spring, especially during the humid/rainy months!

FAVORITE FLOWER: Sussur Blooms, though he general prefers the bio-luminescent toadstools to any flower

FAVORITE SCENT: Vanilla beans~

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: He generally prefers coffee, but finds herbal tea to be easier to make and so that’s usually what he ends up drinking 🍵☕

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 4, and that’s only if he’s forcing himself to sleep

DOGS OR CATS: Both! Ruathym is an animal lover to the core, he loves dogs, cats, hamsters, oxen, frogs, corvids, gremishkas, badgers, bears, all of them! He finds that more often than not they’re easier to talk to than people.

DREAM TRIP: Ruathym is not a very ambitious guy, if he could have spent all 500 years of his life in that tiny little Myconid colony, he would 😶 Having said that, hearing Minthara speak about Menzoberranzan does make him wish for a small peek.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1, well-worn and well-loved

RANDOM FACT: Ruathym is actually a beast on the hand drum as well as a decent lute player, but he doesn’t let anyone else know for fear it will ruin his hardened reputation 👀

tagging @glamfellens, @hajima-7 and @fiendpact! Doesn't have to be BG3 related afaik, and no pressure at all if this isn't your thing 😊

[tootiredmotel]

Electricity

Inspired by @ledzeppelinmixtape 's emoji prompt: ⛈

Read on ao3 or below / 2.3k words

It's 11pm and storming biblically when Dean and Cas's apartment goes dark.

"Great," Dean mutters under his breath. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

From somewhere else in the apartment, his roommate asks "did the power go out?"

"What do you think, sunshine?" Dean replies sarcastically.

He has a half-written essay in front of him, but he knows his old-ass computer won't last long unplugged, so he saves the document before shutting it off. He leans back in his chair, stretching for the first time in an hour and running a hand down his face. He actually needed a break from the screen, he realizes, feeling his eyes relax as he rubs them.

The steady rain and strong winds outside make an overwhelming white noise track, interrupted only by thunder that goes from faint and distant to deafening in volume. If Dean wasn't stressed out of his mind and completely exhausted right now, he might actually find this kind of nice.

"It's raining cats and mice out there," he hears Cas say, his voice now in the room.

Dean smiles, still rubbing his eyes with the backs of both his hands. "Cats and dogs, Cas."

"Right. Cats and dogs."

It’s really no use correcting him; the entire animal kingdom could be falling from the sky right now and there wouldn't be much of a difference. The winds are definitely knocking things over, and the streets will certainly be flooded come morning. Dean wonders for how long the university will cancel classes after this (if at all, the heartless bloodsuckers).

A particularly loud clap of thunder startles Dean. He drops his hands from his face and opens his eyes, expecting to see pitch black nothingness, but the room is faintly lit by the flashlight Cas is holding as he rummages through their kitchen drawers. He approaches a minute later and sets a candle down on the small table.

"Smart."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, sitting down opposite him. Dean smiles again, this time shaking his head.

If anyone ever asked him to mention one thing he likes about Cas, just one, he'd probably say how genuine Cas is, how he takes everything to heart and speaks from it as well. Dean said just one word, smart, a simple comment on the fact that it occurred to Cas to light a candle instead of wasting the battery of their one flashlight, and Cas genuinely thanked him for the compliment. He's just ridiculously cute in his earnestness.

Cas is trying to light the candle now, but their lighter is tricky. Despite living together in that apartment for a year and a half now Cas has never really gotten the hang of it.

"Here, let me."

Dean means to take the lighter from Cas and do it himself, he really does. That is 100% his intention as he reaches across the table. Except he sees an opportunity, and Dean Michael Winchester is nothing if not smooth.

He wraps his hand around Cas's, gently guiding his fingers until they’re placed just right, and the lighter clicks on with ease. Cas meets his eyes, smiling, and Dean can feel the slightest brush of Cas’s thumb against his hand. It’s a small gesture, but clearly deliberate, and it sends Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas leans away, puts the lighter aside, and starts leafing through a book he brought. Dean’s heart is still racing as he watches him.

Scratch that first thing. If anyone ever asked him what’s one thing he likes about Cas? His hands. God. Neat nails, slightly calloused palms, and overall larger hands than you’d expect. Cas is an environmental science major and he wants to get a Ph.D. in botany, so of course, there’s a small garden on their fire escape. He tends to those plants every day with more gentleness and care than Dean has ever seen, and Dean loves to watch him, even though he has no idea what Cas is doing with them half the time. He just knows that not a single one of their plants have died under Cas’s care. He names them too.

His attentiveness. That’s another thing Dean might say if anyone ever asked. Cas left to visit his sister Anna last winter break. He left Dean in charge of the plants, three of which died inside the week. (For Dean’s birthday a couple of months later, Cas got him a book. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean keeps it on his nightstand.) Dean went out and bought new ones, but he knew Cas would notice the difference, and he did. He wasn’t mad at Dean though, and he appreciated the effort, and as Dean apologized profusely over and over again, Cas looked at him in the eyes oh-so-softly and told him he was forgiven.

How could Dean possibly forget? If anyone ever asked, he’d say that Cas’s eyes are one of his favorite things about him. One of his favorite things, period. Dean is absolutely mesmerized whenever Cas looks him in the eye, and the guy loves making eye contact, which means that Dean lives in a perpetual smitten daze. He has never seen that shade of blue anywhere else on this earth. Or maybe he just hasn’t been looking, content to get his fill of that blue by staring into Cas’s eyes as much as he gets to on a daily basis.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean blinks himself back to reality. “Hm?”

“You seem… spaced.”

Dean is staring. He’s been staring this whole time. Shit. Crap.

“Yeah, um. Just tired.”

Mr. Smooth, everybody.

“Maybe you should go get some rest. I doubt the power will be back anytime soon.”

Castiel Milton, always looking out for you. It makes Dean melt.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wanna stay here with you, though, he thinks. Instead, because he’s pathetic, he asks “what’re you reading?”

Cas shows him the cover. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean breaks out in laughter.

“So you’re going into my room and stealing my shit now?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your Vonneguts.” Cas puts the book aside, an easy smile on his face. “Just wanted something light to pass the time.”

“You done with your homework?”

A soft yawn escapes Cas. “For now.”

“Dude, why not just go to sleep? You look exhausted.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Dean tries to deadpan him. He fails, because around Cas, it’s near impossible for him to not smile.

“Besides, I might be done but you weren’t.”

“And you wanted to keep me company.”

Cas shrugs as if to say I guess, but he does it with a knowing smile. The smile doesn’t falter as he meets Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t look away when silence settles between them, the only sound being the stormy white noise.

Dean is sure he could drown in that blue and die happy.

Before that train of thought gets away from him again, Dean tears his gaze away and stretches. “We should really go to bed though, I’m not getting any more done tonight,” he says as he stands.

“Of course,” Cas says, but he grabs the book again.

“You not going?”

“I want to finish this chapter.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Dean smile. Again.

“Well, g’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean thinks he detects a bit of shakiness in Cas’s voice but decides that he’s probably just tired.

He gets to his room and changes into something comfortable, the first t-shirt and sweatpants he finds as he rummages in the dark. He goes to set his phone on his nightstand and crawl into bed, but in place of the book he keeps there and puts his phone on top of– the book Cas has at the moment– he finds something else.

It’s paper. It’s folded into the form of a book, like one of those youtube craft tutorials with bad music, and it's no bigger than his own palm. The cover is handwritten, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Cas's. He smiles, expecting a prank or joke of some sort, Cas knows how stressed Dean can get with the start of the semester. However, his smile falters as he reads the cover:

How to tell your best friend you’re in love with him.

With a shaky hand, Dean opens the small book. The first page is the only one with any more writing on it, and it reads:

You leave him a note and hope it’s enough.

Dean is storming out of his bedroom (no pun intended) before he knows it. He barely even feels his feet moving, too focused on the pounding in his ears and the dryness in his mouth. He doesn’t go into the living room, not yet; his feet stop at the end of the short hallway and he braces himself against the wall. The room is spinning and he can barely breathe.

“Cas?” He chokes out.

Cas puts the book back down on the table in front of him and interlocks his fingers in front of him. He doesn’t look at Dean– Cas, who makes too much eye contact – and takes a deep breath before saying “yes?”

He’s nervous.

Dean takes a step forward, still keeping one hand on the wall just in case, and holds up the note. “What is this?” he asks, because his brain is just not there with him yet.

Cas stands, still not facing Dean. “Dean, do you know what day it is?”

He’s asking this now???

“September firs–”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Cas isn’t today the–”

“The night we met. Two years ago.”

Dean feels his brain catching up now as the memory starts coming back to him. Cas helps, starting to recount that night.

“Two years ago tonight, I was leaving my night course at the university, and it was raining. Not as bad as this,” –Cas looks out the window and lightning strikes, as if on cue– “but pretty badly, and I was an inexperienced freshman without an umbrella.”

Dean remembers. He was walking Charlie to her dorm when it started drizzling, and it was pouring by the time he made it back to his car. Dean had a night shift at the gas station and was about to head there.

“Two years ago tonight,” Cas continues, “you invited me into your car to shelter me from the rain.”

Dean saw this guy running in the direction of the men’s dorms, which were on the other side of campus. He felt bad, and he had a car, so he opened the passenger door and let him in.

Turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he’d ever laid eyes on. He was a bit awkward, but he had no filter, which made him weirdly funny. He asked about the music playing in the car and listened intently to Dean's rambling. He laughed at his jokes too.

At the end of the five-minute drive, he said his name was Castiel, and Dean asked for his number and saved it as Cas with a thunderstorm emoji. Because even if he didn’t know it yet, Dean was already whipped.

“Two years ago,” Cas says, finally looking up at Dean. His eyes are wide and vulnerable and he looks terrified and Dean can barely stand it. “Two years ago tonight, I started to fall in love with you.”

Dean can’t breathe. His ears are hot and he can’t stop fidgeting with the note in his hand and he can’t breathe.

But his feet start moving again, out of their own volition. They move toward Cas.

“If you don’t feel–” Cas starts, but Dean swallows his words.

Again, Dean’s brain isn’t all there yet, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already in it. He’s grabbing Cas’s face, digging his fingertips into the back of his hair, and the note is forgotten on the table, and thunder rumbles not that far away. He’s darting out his tongue, begging to explore Cas’s mouth as he’s wanted to do since forever, and Cas lets him. He tastes like toothpaste and coffee and honey and Dean never wants to taste anyone else ever again.

Cas is wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing his entire body against him. It’s making Dean weak in the knees but it’s okay because Cas is almost holding him upright at this point. There’s another clap of thunder, much closer this time, and the lightning probably illuminated the apartment, but it wasn’t enough to make them part. They’re moving and grasping and exploring frantically, and Dean is afraid Cas is going to disappear, or that he’s going to wake up and this will all have been another dream. But no, it’s real, and they’re playing catchup on two years worth of desire and longing and love.

They eventually pull away, breathless and giddy. The only sounds are the rain and the wind. Dean opens his eyes first, needing to see Cas and make sure this is completely, definitely, unequivocally real. Cas is smiling and taking deep breaths, and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders. He opens his eyes a second later, and even in the darkness, even with just the faint candlelight, the blue in them seems to shine. And even though there's no power, it feels as if there's electricity crackling in the air around them. It might be the storm.

No. It's the moment. This moment with Cas is what feels electric.

“Come to bed?” Dean asks, feeling brave and going out on a limb. The only way Cas responds is by interlocking his hand into Dean’s and kissing him again.

And after tonight, for the rest of his life, if anyone ever asks him “what’s one thing you love about Cas?” Dean won’t be able to narrow down an answer.

He’ll just say: “Everything.”

[londonalozzy]

Stop Pretending (TFATWS)

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst

Summary: The reader thinks she's doing a stellar job of keeping her feelings for a certain soldier buried deep inside. Turns out, all it takes is an observant new friend to begin the unraveling of her most precious secret (Spoilers for TFATWS)

Masterlist

Word: Pretence

Definition: A way of acting that is intended to deceive people.

Example: Saying that he's just a friend when he's really the love of your life.

Your POV

Being caught in the midst of war is something that I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)  know all too well. As a war vet, former shield agent, and now Avenger I'm used to being centered amongst conflict. When the fight begins within me though, a battle between what I want and what I think is right, how will I react? Will I listen to my heart, my head, or will the winner be chosen for me?

Delacroix, Louisiana.....

I love my sleep, always have, always will. It's not necessarily the comfort of the bed, the quiet or even the rest. It's the fact that I'm at peace when I sleep. My life has a tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, so anything that will put that off for as long as possible I savor.

I wish it were the same for a certain super soldier in my life. I look forward to going to bed, everything calms down then, and for most people it's the same. For Bucky however, it's when everything starts, the nightmares, the terrors, the seemingly unending darkness. If only I could take his pain away like he has with mine.

For the last few weeks, my life had, for want of a better word, been hectic. Hectic to say the least.

After the eventual defeat of Thanos and the loses we endured as a result, I thought naively that life might calm down a bit, that I'd have time to breathe, to live. How wrong I was.

It all began with John Walker being announced to the world as the new Captain America.

I was baking cookies with Morgan in the Stark family kitchen when it came over the radio. As that latest turn of events sunk in, my first thoughts were of Bucky, what that would do to him. Not even an hour later I had said my goodbyes and was on my way to help him get the shield back.

Since then even more had happened. We'd regrouped with Sam, busted Zemo out of prison which in turn ruffled the feathers of Ayo and the Dora Milaje. We came face to face with Morgenthou and the Flag Smashers, and finally witnessed the man who thought he could even compete with Steve, make himself judge, jury and most significantly executioner.

After that went around the world we knew we had to end it sooner rather than later. It couldn't get much worse than Captain America becoming a murderer. We got the shield back, which was a fight all in itself. Handed Zemo over to Ayo, to try and recompense for the distrust we'd instilled in the people who'd helped us so much. Then we travelled to stay with Sam and his family in Louisiana whilst we waited for Karli's next move.

This is where we found ourselves now, in the eye of it, the calm before the storm.

Waking up in the Wilson households guest room, I was greeted to the golden hue of the rising sun penetrating through the single glaze windows, and the melodic sounds of gulls on the hunt for their morning meal down by the docks.

Actually, no that's not right. What I could hear was most certainly not birds, and it was definitely not melodic. What were those boys doing?

Quickly and quietly I threw on the first clothes I could get my hands on and made my way downstairs towards the noise. What caught my attention when I discovered the source, was not the two youngest Wilson boys playing with our newly reacquired shield in the living room, but the super solider who was blissfully ignorant to it all, sleeping peacefully on the couch in front of them. I don't think I'd ever been so happy.

"Right you two, if you're determined to play Avengers all morning then I suggest you re-assemble in the back yard. You're gonna wake Bucky up," I whispered out in one breath, stepping between the boys, then placing my hands on their backs and tip toeing them towards the door.

"So what if we wake him up? It's gone 10am," Cass questioned in protest, pulling on his sneakers and jacket.

"Exactly! Which is why if you do as I say, I will make you the biggest plate of waffles for breakfast that you've ever seen."

The boys eyes lit up. "Can we have ice cream with it? Mum never lets us have ice cream for breakfast, and I'm sure there's a tub of Stark raving hazelnuts in the freezer," AJ clapped in muted excitement. "Oh, for God's sake.....Yes. You can have whatever you want if you get out of this house now and keep the noise down."

Once the boys were outside, I made my way over to the kitchen, stopping on the way to lean over my favourite senior citizen and make sure that he was still peaceful in his slumber. He'd never looked so relaxed, so at ease. It was a brand new Bucky I'd never seen before, a Bucky that had my heart pounding for him even more than it normally did. Not that he knew any of that.

Half an hour later and up to my elbows in waffle mix, I failed to notice my new friend and host Sarah making her way to my side at the counter, the huge smile on my face not going unnoticed. "What's got you grinning like the Cheshire cat, like I need to ask?"

"Bucky's sleeping. Isn't it amazing?" I spoke softly, bouncing up and down on my feet as I did so.

"And why is that?" She couldn't looked more confused if she tried.

"In all the years I've known him, I don't think I've ever woken up before he has. If his nightmares don't keep him awake all night, they normally have him up before the crack of dawn. I don't think I've ever seen him so still."

"Good answer," Sarah nodded in a hush, understanding why this meant so much to me, but not done yet with her morning interrogations, "Now on to my next question......"

"I'm already not liking the sound of this."

"Sleeping Beauty over there follows you around like a little puppy dog. He hangs on your every word, looks at you like you hung the stars or something. It's pretty obvious how crazy he is about you, so when are you gonna stop pretending that you're not head over heels in love with him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Wilson," I smiled forcefully, making out like the waffle maker deserved my attention way more than the conversation I was being made to have.

This was all Sam's doing, without a shadow of a doubt. He'd tried to have this conversation with me on multiple occasions and I shut him down every time. He obviously hadn't given up like I thought he did, and decided to draft in his sister. He is seriously gonna regret it when I find him.

"Sure you know what I'm talking about. Sam sees it, I don't even know you that well and I see it. The only reason Bucky doesn't, is because he doesn't believe he could ever be that lucky. You're a smitten kitten." These Wilson's are all as annoying as each other.

Knowing I wasn't getting out of this one, I grabbed Sarah by the arm and pulled her right into the corner of the room, trying my best to keep this convo as private as possible. "Look, I'm not pretending.....I'm ignoring. There's a difference."

"Care to explain what that difference is?" Sarah spoke softly, but with a sarcastic air.

Turning to look over my shoulder at the subject of our conversation, making sure he was still safely in the land of nod, I decided to just be honest. Sarah was much like her brother. Once she wanted to get to the bottom of something she wasn't about to give up.

"I love Bucky, more than I've ever loved anyone...and that terrifies me," the rawness of finally being honest making my voice shake, and tears come to my eyes. "Nat was like my sister, and she's dead. Tony was the closest I've ever gotten to having a Dad...and he's dead too. Then there's Steve, Vision, God knows where Wanda is....Everyone I love, either leaves or dies. If I admit my feelings for Buck then I face the risk of losing him too."

"Do you have any idea how crazy you sound right now? He's not going to die because you love him (Y/N)."

Silent tears were falling now. I was revealing my deepest fears to a woman I'd only known a few days, and I'm not underplaying it when I say it was like a colossal weight off my chest, a release I didn't know I needed. "Believe me...I know, but I can't take that risk. I can't lose anyone else, especially not him."

"Let's just say for a second that you're right, that there is some higher power somewhere, set on destroying everyone you love. Do you really think ignoring your feelings is going to make them disappear?" I didn't know what to say to that. "Natasha and Stark died so that everyone could continue living, and (Y/N) you're not living as long as you keep this to yourself. They wouldn't want that for you."

"But what if I lose him?" I whispered with a choked sigh.

"Then at least he'll die knowing how you felt about him. After everything he's been through don't you think he deserves to know there's someone out there who loves him like you do?"

"Of course..."

Sarah's lips pulled upwards in a satisfied smirk, wrapping her arm around my shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze, "then you owe it to yourself, and to him, to tell him the truth."

"Why do all you Wilson's have to be so clever?" I voiced in mock irritation, pushing her away from me and acting like I was annoyed she had gotten one up on me.

"I don't know," she thought aloud and with a cheeky grin, grabbing a plate to start piling on the long forgotten waffles, "I think it might be the sea air or something."

"Nah, it's in the genes," I chuckled quietly, grabbing my jacket and deciding it was time to get this conversation wrapped up. "I'll go find Sam and the boys for breakfast. Clear my head a little bit."

"You promise you're gonna tell him?" Sarah stopped me as I went to push the door open.

"I'll think about it."

3rd person POV

Once (Y/N) was out of ear shot, Sarah couldn't help but start jumping up and down in excitement, clapping her hands loudly as she did so. That went even better than she thought it would, and she was so proud of herself. Sarah Wilson could now add matchmaker to her resume.

"Coast is clear Barnes. You can open your eyes now."

(Y/N) had no idea what she had metaphorically walked into just minutes earlier, entering that very revealing conversation with her overly inquisitive host.

What drew Sarah to come down that morning was the sounds of both the front porch door opening and the smell of homemade waffles wafting up the stairs. As she entered the kitchen she was met with two sights. One being (Y/N), facing the counter and looking very smiley, the other being a wide awake super soldier who was just laying on the couch and staring at her, the sole object of his affection. Sarah could work with this.

Every time (Y/N) turned back in his direction, Bucky would close his eyes and pretend to be asleep again. He had never slept so soundly, so peacefully, thoughts of (Y/N) and his new friends filling his nightmare free dreams.

He'd initially woken to (Y/N) ushering the boys outside because she was afraid they would wake him up. He didn't want to disappoint her by proving her right. Besides, he liked just watching her move around the kitchen, completely unaware he was observing her the whole time. He had no idea about the conversation that was just about to happen.

After (Y/N) had left and Sarah had confirmed so, Bucky sat himself up, his body shaking with adrenaline and a look of complete shock fixed on his face. Had he definitely woken up, or had the whole thing been a part of his dream? Did (Y/N) seriously just admit that she was in love with him?

Bucky didn't know how to react, didn't know what to say as he looked up at a smug Sarah from his spot. All he'd ever wanted was for (Y/N) to feel the same way about him as he did about her. Now he knew that she did.

"You're welcome by the way."

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Can I have aizawa dating (without knowing) one of his student's (you can chose) older sister? Thank you and stay hydrated! 💗

• It was Bakugous sister.

• He honestly didn't even make the fucking connection. He's just tired.

• You have brown hair, Katsuki has blonde hair. You curse a lot but have a much better control with your temper and youre not as hot headed.

• he didn't connect the resemblance either until he see's you too in the same room

• and he doesn't like bringing work home- especially when he gets to see you

• which isn't as often as he'd like it to be

• so he won't talk about it

• so you wouldn't know that he taught your brother

• he'll say his day was frustrating or it was good and then the subject would be changed

• Your family would know you're seriously dating /someone/

• but they wouldn't know who.

• your dad would know more than your mom would- you're closer with him

• Katsuki would also know youre dating someone, he doesn't know who, and he pretends not to care but he's annoyed he hasn't met them

• he doesn't know what they're like. They could be an asshole- he wouldn't know.

• your relationship with Katsuki is weird.

• some times he's decent- and yall act like normal siblings

• and then sometimes the two of you ignore eachother for months

• which is ridiculous because youre 26 and he's 17.

• you think he has some animosity for leaving the house and leaving him to be the only child there

• now his parents are down his back

• he might also be upset that you disciplined him a lot

• but you also comforted him when he needed it

• regardless he'll still show up at your apartment when he's fought with mom

• or he 'got bored' aka he missed you but he's not gonna say that

• if he didn't feel like spending the night in the dorms, he'd crash at your place.

• Back to the point- they don't know much.

• it's completely unknown to everyone that you're dating your brothers teacher.

• Aizawa is patient. He's so patient.

• you've been hesitant on him meeting your family (though you've been together for what- a year? Year and a half?) Because well...your family is your family.

• you don't want him to dip

• you're utterly in love with this man and you'd be htterly devastated if he left

• and honestly? He's content with how it is now.

• Him occasionally spending the night(s) ((weeks)) at your apartment, leaving work out of conversations and just enjoying company.

• you dont have to go too fast- its fine how it is now.

• he loves you and that's really all that matters to him.

• but one day, you do decide its time for him to meet them.

• it's over winter break- it's December, not long before Christmas, he'd be spending it with you this year and he should meet your family before hand.

• You guys decided breakfast was an appropriate time.

• So there you are, sitting in bed with your greasy gremlin of a man

• he's got a hand in your hair, the other on the bed on the other side of your head to hold him up.

• you were under him, licking the inside of his mouth

• that's as far as you two had gotten before there was a knock on the door.

• you looked towards the clock as he let out a small groan.

• forgive him, it'd been a solid 2 weeks since he'd seen you last and he missed every part of you.

• it was late, around 11:30, none the less you got up, pressing another kiss to his lips "I'll be back in a minute babe,"

• and off you go to answer the door

• and when you do answer you see Katsuki standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking very upset.

"Katsu?"

"I got into a fight with mom. Can I sleep here tonight?"

You nod, "yeah yeah, of course. Just text dad that you're here okay?" You step aside to let him in. "Did you walk? Drive?"

"Hung out with Ei and then drove here."

"Car out front?"

"Mhm, parked next to yours."

"Did Ei do a good job making you feel better?" You glance back at him as you take a cup out if the cupboard.

"Yeah, he did. I'm just not in the mood to go back."

"That's okay. We know how mom gets. What was it about?"

"Responsibility or some shit like that. Not exactly sure anymore."

"Katsu," you mumble, sitting a cup if tea in front of him. "You're doing fine. With everything thats going on, you're dealing with it really well. You're still just a kid, you deserve to have some fun." You kiss his forehead and he nods. "I'm gonna make sure the guest bedroom is ready, kay?"

"Kay."

• So once the room is ready, he brings his cup into the room and plugs in his phone before looking at you.

"Is /he/ here?

"Sho? Yeah, he's probably sleeping now. You'll meet him in the morning. Is Ei and his family still spending Christmas dinner with us?"

"Yeah. He is."

"Does he know how crazy we are?"

Katsuki smiles slightly. "Yeah, one of his moms is like that."

"Good, then you have nothing to worry about. Goodnight Katsuki." You ruffle his hair.

"Let the bedbugs bite, hag."

"You too, little fucker."

• Getting back into bed woke Shouta up, though he was only just drifting off.

"Who was that?"

"Brother, he got into a fight with mom. He's spending the night in the guest bedroom so you'll meet him tomorrow."

He nodded. "Can I go back to kiss you now?" He mumbled.

"Yeah, but we have to be quite now." You smile.

"You know thats one of my favorite games," he got back on top of you, moving your legs so they were on either side of his waist and he had easy access to grind himself onto your heat. You let out a sigh and his lips reconnected.

• The next morning you woke up early than you had really wanted but sometimes shit happens.

• katsuki was already up, if course he was.

• he gave you a small nod, eyes traveling to the hickey peeking out from under your robe before looking away. Gross.

• "Sleep okay?"

"Slept fine, you?"

"Mhm," you smile slightly. "Dad say anything last night?"

"He said to tell you goodnight and he was excited to see you tomorrow, but I was too lazy to get up-" his spoon clattered.

You glance back, "Ah, Katsu this is Shou, Sho this is-"

• Katsuki is 😃

• Why are you fucking here???

• Aizawa is 😌

• I'm gonna use this to destroy you

"Jesus-" Katsuki groans. "No- no no-"

Shouta rubs his face, but he's internally jumping- oh he's going to use this to his advantage.

"What-?"

"You're dating my fucking teacher?"

"Wha- oh." You snicker.

• This is gold

• This is absolutely gold

• You are going to beat Aizawa ass later though, he's totally been overworking his class

• They walk into breakfast and your parents are like ????

• "Hey isn't that-?"

"Yes." Bakugou grumbles. "Yes it is."

• Honestly they'd both use it to their advantage.

• "I'll tell my sister if you ____"

• "I'll tell your sister if you don't _____"

• and when y'all get engaged and class 1a finds out that he's going to become bakugous brother in law, they flip their shit dude.

• Because one, Eiji was the only one who knew he had a sister and that he was dating bakugous sisterb

• mans walked in with his famiky to see his boyfriend and stopped dead in his tracks.

"M-Mr. Aizawa..why are- uhm- why are-?"

Bakugou grabs his hand, nodding at his mother's. "He's dating my sister."

"He's what?" He whispered, eyes widening.

"Tragic, I know."

• One time you had to bring him something bc he forgot it at your apartment that was practically his too at this point

• and you walk in

"Hey sho, you forgot this."

"Mm, thanks."

• Bakugou drops his head to the table

"Bye Katsu," you wave and smile. "By Ei, have a good day,"

"Please leave,"

"You too Bakugou!"

• "who was that?" Mina asks

"Bakugous sister,"

"My fiance,"

They said that the same time

• All hell breaks loose

• "The fact that bakugou has a sister is processed first- "she looks nothing like you how-"

"She has my dads brown hair. I have my moms blonde hair.'

• He's bombarded with questions

• he ignores them

• the fact that Aizawa is ENGAGED to bakugous sister- now that's gold

• and he's bombarded with questions too

• no he did not know you were bakugous sister

• he met you after school started

• at a fruit stand actually

• he proposed before Christmas

• yes, he asked for your parents approval

• yes he asked for bakugous approval, he said yes

• no, he didn't have kids

• but y'all did have a cat and a dog

• No Mina, I'm not showing you a picture of them

• because Ayoma, we're in class right now

• maybe after if you guys shut up

• Anyway Bakugou is the ringbearer for the wedding 🤪🤪

• Class 1A is invited

• Mic is the best man

• Your best friend is your maid of honor

• All might officiated it

• its a good time

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (5/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

ao3 : beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

-/-

Emma likes seafood.

She likes seafood, but she mostly eats like a ten-year-old boy. Apparently, there’s a little place near her house called Granny’s where she devours grilled cheese and onion rings like arteries aren’t a thing. It makes him laugh when she tells him because she eats how he’s always dreamed of eating. The only time he ever gets the chance is when he’s with his nieces and they convince him to get them food Elsa and Liam never let them get.

She also likes 80’s music, has been working at the Blue Dog for over half a decade, prefers her kickboxing classes to cycling ones, and her favorite color is blue.

That last one was a bit of a throwaway question, but he asked it anyway. Then, of course, he made sure to let her know that his eyes were blue. He got an eye roll and a ‘shut up’ for that before she started rolling her hips again. It was damn distracting, but he didn’t stop laughing at how frustrated she was that he wasted his one personal question a day on that.

One personal question a day.

It’s childish, but he thinks it works. It keeps the line between them defined. He knows what this is, has done it enough times before to not be blind to it. They’re both visitors in each other’s lives. They have expiration dates, and when there’s an expiration date, there’s no harm in spending time together.

There’s no commitment, so there’s no hurt.

He’s not an expert on Emma Swan, no matter how much she fascinates him, but he gets the feeling she’s avoiding relationships just as much as he is. There is a past hurt there, a damned painful one, and if anyone gets that, it’s him.

But he doesn’t ask about that in his one question a day. He asks for her favorite color and food and if she’d rather hike uphill for 10 miles or swim for 20.

For the record, she’d rather hike because she could sit down and eat along the way.

“Would you look at that?” Emma says as she runs her hands under the water of the sink at the bar. “You, sitting at this bar, again.”

He slices his salmon with his knife and grins. “I tried that Granny’s place, but the food had too much grease. Met a rather charming waitress, though.”

“Let me guess. Red streak in her hair, boobs on full display, argued with the owner the entire time?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because that’s Ruby, my best friend.”

“Is she now?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Is that your personal question of the day?”

“Nope,” he says, taking a bite of his food. “I’m saving that for a later time.”

“A later time,” Emma repeats, like she’s considering the words. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the bar. “What makes you think you’re going to be seeing me at a later time? This isn’t enough for you?”

He looks around them and leans closer to her. “Too many clothes.”

Emma laughs, legitimately, and that feels surprisingly good. “I’m literally in a tank top and shorts. That’s about as dressed down as you can get.”

“I was talking about myself, actually. There are too many clothes on me, but it’s nice to know you think so highly of yourself.”

That gets him another laugh and a shake of her head, and he likes that too. He may have no real inclination to become overly attached to her, but he can at least admit to himself that he enjoys her company.

“Shut up.” Someone calls Emma’s name from across the restaurant, and she holds her arm up, putting up one finger. “I get off at The Oaks at eleven. I’ll drop by your place if I’m not too tired.”

“Why the hell are you working there so much?”

“I like the money. And, Jones, that counts as your personal question of the day. I’ll see you later...maybe.”

She grins and winks before walking away, and he swears she puts a little extra sway in her hips. Killian shakes his head as he feels his own smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What a bloody woman,” he whispers to himself before spearing another piece of his salmon.

-/-

“Right there,” she moans. “Like, seriously, right there. Don’t fucking change anything.”

Kilian smiles against her, but he’s quick to return to what he was doing. Emma’s legs tighten over his shoulders, her hands yank at the sheets, and as much as he is throbbing right now, it’s bloody glorious to have her like this. The filter is gone, so too are the reservations, and he gets a bit of satisfaction knowing this is him doing this to her.

His only skills aren’t on the football pitch after all.

He is definitely a bastard for thinking that right now, but he’s never claimed to be otherwise.

“Fuck,” Emma huffs after she comes down from her high. Her legs shiver over his shoulder, thighs tightening so all the sounds fade for a moment, but then her legs fall and all sounds come back in screaming color. “What did I do to deserve that so early in the morning?”

“It’s ten, love.”

“Yeah, that’s early on my day off.”

Killian laughs and kisses the inside of Emma’s thigh before making his way up her body, planting a final one underneath her collarbone before he collapses on his side of the bed and pulls the sheets above his waist.

“It’s not early for the rest of the world.” He smiles, which she doesn’t appreciate, and she sinks further into the bed, yanking the covers over her. He can still see her flushed cheeks and the slightest content smile on her face. “You should try it sometime. See the sunrise, dodge early morning joggers, eat breakfast at a normal time.”

“Trust me, I’m usually up early enough to want to drive into the early morning joggers while I have a Pop Tart hanging out of my mouth. My summer schedule is just...it’s different than usual.”

He has questions about that. It’s something she’s alluded to before, but he doesn’t know if she’ll count that as his question of a day.

He’s thirty-five years old, and he doesn’t know if he can ask the woman he’s sleeping with more than one question about her life. He knows he’s fucked up a lot, but this seems to be the culmination of several screw ups in his own life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on that. Well, no, he has all the time in the world, but lately, the boredom has dissipated, the loneliness too.

Lately, he’s got a damn good distraction, and he’s not about to fuck that up.

Emma flips over on her side, her hair a wild, curly mess. She used his pool last night and didn’t wash her hair after. It’s made it even crazier than usual. He thinks he likes it. Makes her seem less reserved.

His phone rings on his bedside table, and he leans over to pick it up.

“Hello, darling.” Emma’s brow raises, but he ignores her. “How are you?”

“Good,” Elsa says. “We’re all good. The girls are in the garden right now, running around and getting all their energy out. I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

“I’ve been...busy.”

Emma’s hand finds his thigh, and his leg jumps before steadying. She is not about to do what he thinks she’s about to do. Bloody hell.

“Busy?” Elsa asks, as Emma’s hand walks a little closer to his groin. “Doing what? Have you made friends?”

“Why do you always ask me that like I’m a child?”

“Because you’re basically my baby brother.” Killian laughs and then hisses as Emma’s hand wraps around him. She smirks, obviously satisfied with herself, and he knows she’s doing it for the reaction above anything else.

Tease.

He doesn’t mind.

Except this is a poor idea.

“I believe I’m actually older than you.”

“Semantics.”

He laughs again, and Emma’s hand starts working a little more. Fuck. He needs her to stop, and even though she’s doing delicious things to him, she is looking away, acting as bored as can be. And maybe she is, but then he sees one corner of her mouth tick up.

“Mum, is that Killian?” he hears Ally ask, echoed by a squeal from Sophia, who is obviously having the time of her life. There’s a bit of a shuffle, some muted voices, and then his niece’s voice comes through. “When are you coming home?”

“Hello, Ally,” he says, his voice going high when Emma moves her thumb. “How is one of my favorite nieces doing?”

Emma immediately stops and yanks her hand away, practically falling off the bed. She catches herself and kicks up, moving the comforter up and nearly pulling it off him.

“What the actual fuck?” she whispers hisses, slapping him.

He ignores her as Ally asks again when he’s coming home.

“At the end of September, sweetheart,” he promises. “I’ll come home, and then I am going to kiss you right on the cheek.”

“Ew,” she complains, and he can imagine her nose scrunching.

“I also might give you a present.”

“I like that better.”

“Good. I thought you would.” he watches Emma get up and pull a t-shirt out of a drawer. It’s an old Man. United shirt, and he pretends that doesn’t do a damn thing to him, especially since she was just working him up a minute ago. “Listen, Ally, darling, will you hand the phone to your mum? I - ”

“Sophia, that is my hat! Do not wear it!”

And then the line goes dead, and he wonders how long it’ll be before Elsa gets back to her phone and calls him back.

“You let me do that to you while you were on the phone with your niece?” Emma mumbles, pulling the shirt down then pulling her hair into a mess of a knot on the top of her head. He’s not sure if she’s annoyed or amused. “I hate you.”

“Technically, at first it was my sister-in-law,” he corrects, tapping his head.

“That doesn’t make it any better.” Emma gets back in the bed, pulling the comforter all the way up to her chin, and then she shuffles a little further into the bed before sitting up against the headboard and groaning into her hands. “I am mortified.”

“I did stop you when Ally took the phone,” he points out before pulling at the arm of her shirt. “Nice shirt.”

Killian stands from the bed and walks toward his bathroom, grabbing his briefs along the way. “It’s comfortable,” Emma says. “Is this the team you played for?”

Killian stops, the tile cool against his feet, and then keeps moving, leaving the door cracked as he gets half dressed and starts brushing his teeth. As good as it was a few minutes ago, the mood is gone.

Especially now.

How the hell does she know he used to play football? And how long has she known that? Is that why...no, that couldn’t be why, but he knows that’s why a lot of women have.

“A long time ago,” he says, spitting out toothpaste. “I was with Chelsea when I retired.”

“Is that another team?”

“Uh, yeah,” he laughs, continuing to brush his teeth but sticking his head out of his bathroom door. “You didn’t know that?”

Emma shrugs as she types on her phone. “I don’t know anything about soccer. I only know you played because Ruby internet stalked you a few weeks ago and showed me your Instagram. I literally thought you were just one of those adults who is really into his hobbies.”

Killian nearly lets out a sigh, but he stops himself and turns back around to the sink to spit again before rinsing his brush. He looks up at the mirror. His hair is disheveled, there are lines around his eyes and on his forehead, and his stubble is growing to the point where a beard is beginning to form. He’ll shave later.

So Emma doesn’t know anything about football then. Or him, for that matter. He’s not sure he entirely believes her, that she didn’t look up any more about him, and he doesn’t like that uncertainty. Usually, when he meets someone, they have the upper hand and know the surface layer of all the dirty details of his life.

They usually don’t care to find out the real stories. Not that most of them redeem him in any way.

“Not a hobby,” he says, taming his hair with his hands. “It was a damn good job.” He leaves the bathroom and leans against the doorframe. “You ever play?”

She laughs and puts her phone down. “No.”

“Not even as a kid? Come on. I hear every lass in America plays as a kid.”

“Is that your question of the day?”

Damn. “No.” Killian walks toward the bed and puts his hands on either side of Emma’s head on the headboard, leaning in close. He sees her chest rise, and he smirks. “My question is to ask you to stay in bed with me all day. What do you say, Swan?”

She sits up, and her lips lightly brush against his mouth when she talks. “You should have asked me about the soccer because I was already planning on staying here the entire day.”

“Really now?”

“If we can get crepes delivered from this place that’s, like, ten minutes from here.”

Killian kisses her, long and slow until there’s heat simmering low in his belly. “As you wish.”

-/-

Emma doesn’t come over every night. Nor does he go to her place. But it seems that way as July rolls by, full of hot days that seem to linger forever. Killian finds himself busy during the days. Emma usually has work early in the mornings, so if she’s staying over, she leaves before eight. He doesn’t know how she has time to breathe working at both the Tavern and The Oaks, but she makes it work. When she leaves, he gets up and uses the gym in the basement of the house, going through his tried and true routines before he laces up his trainers and either runs on the beach or on the sidewalks through his little area of the vineyard. He finds the sidewalks are better for his knees, so he tends to stick with that and leaves walking on the beach for his afternoon phone calls with Elsa and the girls or Ariel and Eric.

It’s a routine, one that changes during the day, but for the first time since he got here, he doesn’t hate every damn day. He doesn’t spend his time actively having to try not drink or thinking about Liam or football. He practically buys out a local bookstore and goes through the novels faster than he has in years. He visits different restaurants, museums, goes along with some tourist activities he finds online, and he explores any shop that strikes his fancy.

And while his routine changes, there is one constant: he eats a meal at the Blue Dog Tavern.

At first, he thought Emma would kick him out for it, but now, she often comes and sits with him for a few minutes or sends him a drink from her office. He always sits in Ashley’s section and lets her talk about her growing belly even if he knows little about pregnancy, and he spends at least an hour eating and watching all the people around him.

It’s a hell of a lot better than the twenty-four-hour diners with sticky floors and bad coffee.

Killian shoves his keys in his pocket and pushes open the door to the Blue Dog. Marina greets him, telling him to seat himself anywhere in Ashely’s section, so he goes to his favorite booth and settles down. He can’t see the television from it, so it’s the perfect spot to completely escape from the world with no risk of his past showing up right before his eyes.

He may be feeling better, may be able to have a drink or too at night without wanting to have five more, but he knows he’s possibly only one bad day from it all coming undone, the thread unraveling faster than he can wind it back up.

“Tea or coffee today, Killian?” Ashley asks, notepad in hand.

“Tea, I think, but not the blasted stuff you gave me last time.”

She laughs and writes down his drink order. “Do you know what you want to eat already or should I come back?”

He hands her the menu. “The daily special and a side salad.”

“Perfect. I’ll be back with that as soon as possible.”

“No need to rush,” he says, smiling. “Is - ”

“She’s filling out orders for next week, but I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Ashley winks before walking away, and Killian wonders what the hell everyone in this restaurant thinks of him and Emma. It must be peculiar, but if he’s picked up anything from Emma, it’s that she likely doesn’t share much about her personal life with her employees. She surely won’t tell him that he’s the man she’s sleeping with for the summer, but they might pick up on that on their own.

The food here is good, but it’s not every day good.

He’s finished his salad and half of his sandwich when she comes out from the back. Today, she’s already in the black dress she wears to The Oaks, and her hair is pushed back into a ponytail. She looks exhausted, and unfortunately, the reason has nothing to do with him.

“I only have a second to say hi,” she says, sliding into the booth and grabbing a roll from the basket, breaking off a piece and popping it into her mouth. “We are having an issue with our fish orders, and it’s an absolute nightmare.”

“That sounds like I won’t be ordering any fish this week.”

Emma takes another bite of her bread. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Do you want to come to my place tonight? I’m off at ten.”

“Sure.” He picks at the bread on his sandwich. “Though, the last time I was at your place, that damn crab pillow ended up in the bed, and I didn’t appreciate that.”

Her nose scrunches with her laugh. “I hate that thing too, but Ariel loves it.”

“You live in that house the entire year. Why don’t you redecorate it for your taste?”

Her shoulders tense, and she stops chewing before slowly starting again. He already knows this is going to be his personal question of the day. Sometimes she forgets about it and lets the conversation flow freely, but when he hits a nerve, she’s more on her guard.

He gets it. He can be the same way.

“Personal question,” she says, and he knows her better than he should. “And I’ve redone my bedroom and little bits in the kitchen and living room, but I don’t know. I guess I keep it how the Fishers have it because it’s their home. There are memories there, and I don’t want to take any of those away for when I do eventually get another place. It’s....it’s good to have a family home with memories.”

Killian arches his brow, but Emma looks away, picking at the roll again. He never really had a family home, not after his mum died and his dad became obsessed with using Killian’s football skills for his own fortune, but he likes that sentiment.

A family home with memories. Good ones. That would be the dream.

“What about you?” she asks, changing the subject before he can press further. “Aren’t you excited to get back to your place where all the stuff is yours? You’re living in a place that’s not your own, so I’m sure you’re ready to get back to your family.”

She doesn’t mean anything by it, but her words cut. He’s here because he lost the one person in his family who he was closest to, but he doesn’t want to talk about that, not now. This is supposed to be a good time. It isn’t supposed to be about dark histories.

“I’m enjoying my time here,” he answers honestly. “There’s this woman who is an absolute spitfire, and she’s been occupying most of my time. I’ve been, well, metaphorically tied up in bed too much to think of returning home.”

“Ha, ha,” she monotones with a roll of her eyes. “That’s not what I - ”

“Hi!”

They both turn, and Emma’s friend Mary Margaret is standing there, bouncing back and forth on her toes. “Hi, Marg,” Emma says. “You’re early.”

“I know. I got finished tutoring early, so I thought I’d drop by. I didn’t know you’d have...other company.”

“Nice to see you again,” Killian says, nodding at Mary Margaret.

“Yeah, nice to see you.” Mary Margaret seems hesitant, like she didn’t meet him weeks ago at dinner, and he wonders just how much she knows about his arrangement with Emma. From what he’s learned, they seem close, but he also knows Ruby is Emma’s more...accepting friend. “How are you?”

“I’m good, love. Just badgering Emma at work. I’m surprised she hasn’t kicked me out yet.”

“Annoy me a little too much, and I will.” Her ankle hooks with his under the table, and Killian bites his lip to keep from smiling too much. “So, what’s up, Marg? Why’d you want to drop by? Have you heard of this thing called phones?”

Mary Margaret chuckles before sliding into the booth next to Emma. Emma’s ankle unhooks from his, and he tucks his feet under the booth. “So, you know how David wants to have that big barbecue for all of our friends and neighbors?”

“Yeah, you guys do it every year because you’re insane.”

“Anyway,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, “we were wondering if we could get the Blue Dog to cater some of the sides. I know you guys don’t cater, but we could pay extra. Please.”

“You do know there are restaurants who do cater who could handle this?”

“Yes, but we love the food here. Killian gets it, right?”

“Uh, yes,” he mumbles, not sure what he’s supposed to say. From Emma’s death glare, he knows he’s chosen incorrectly. Bloody hell. “I love it.”

“Exactly,” Mary Margaret says. “We’ll pay extra. Promise. In tips so the staff can get it instead of the owners.”

Emma sighs and sinks into the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. “I need to know the order at least two weeks ahead of time, and it’s going to take me some time to figure out how much you guys need to pay.”

“Ahhhh, perfect!” Mary Margaret hugs Emma before sliding out of the booth. “You’re the best! I can’t wait to call David! Oh, and Killian, you should come too. It’s on August 14th. We’d love to have you there.”

Killian scratches his ear and nods, flashing her a tight smile. He doesn’t think Emma would welcome him at a party full of her friends, so he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable no matter how nice it might be to be in a large group of people.

“He’ll be there,” Emma says, surprising him, and he feels her toe tap his shin. “If he can make it, of course. You know, he has a very busy social calendar.”

“I wonder why that is, darling.” He winks, making Emma smile, and he taps his toes into hers right back. “I’ve heard you keep pretty busy as well.”

Emma’s mouth gapes before closing, and her green eyes widen, lashes nearly hitting against her brows. “Ass.”

“Well, I know you like - ”

“Okay.” Mary Margaret claps her hands together. “I’ve got to go. Emma, I’ll send you the menu after I talk to David tonight. And Killian, we really would love to have you there.”

“I’ll see,” he says as he fights to keep from smiling too widely. “May I recommend the cheddar bites for the menu. They’ll kill you, but you’ll enjoy it.”

“I have never once seen you get the cheddar bites,” Emma scoffs.

He leans over the table, pressing his chin in his hand and smirking the way he knows she likes. She tells him he’s obnoxious when he does it, but sometimes he can see past that hard shell exterior. “I’m full of surprises, darling.”

“That you are, Jones. That you are.”

-/-

-/-

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[jaehyunspeachparty]

daddy jaehyun 

iv.xlvii (m)

trigger warning: mentions of abortion

"Good morning", Jaehyun whispered and turned to you. The new year has started and you spent New Year's Eve alone together with your children. The twins were very sensitive to noise and you didn't want to leave them in a noisy environment with lots of fireworks. But in the end they slept through the New Year. "Good morning," you say softly and smile. Jaehyun pulled you closer and stroked your hips. You already knew where this was going, especially when his lips were on your chest. He started to moan softly before you could say anything. "What if the children come in?" You ask him quietly. Jaehyun shook his head and put his body over yours. "You ask that every time." He sighs and suddenly pulled the blanket over your body. "Do you remember when we were in the dorm? We were so horny that we used every second to sleep with each other. And when Jungwoo was in the room, we did it very slowly under the covers." He winked and pulled your panties aside at the same time. "Oh, surely he noticed." You just let him do it and thought of the time when they really always slept sneaky together. "But our children are innocent. When they ask what we do, we just say we are playing." He winked and stroked you between your folds. You press your lips together and start moaning softly. "What if I cum? You know I can't be quiet on your cock." You wink and Jaehyun has to close his eyes briefly to collect himself. Dirty talk always turned him on. "We'll do it very slowly, maybe you can suppress your moan then." He leaned down to kiss you gently. "Fuck, you're already very wet," he then stated and stuck a finger into you. Your chest rose and you couldn't wait to have his length inside you. "Are you ready?" You ask him and Jaehyun grinned. It took his cock and slapped it on your stomach. He was already fat and well blooded. His veins stuck out thick and blue and you knew him when he looked like this ... he was more than ready. "Any questions?" He looked at you grinning and you shake your head. "Then fuck me." You pull him towards you and Jaehyun began to position himself correctly. It only took 2 seconds for his tip to reach your entrance. But it didn't come to more because then the door opened. "Mummy ..." Sunoh rubbed his eyes and his hair stood up. "What are you doing?" Your son asked and came to your bed. "We cuddle," you say and put your arms around Jaehyun. "I also want." Sunoh put his hands on the mattress and looked at you two with his big dark eyes. "I'm so hard it hurts," Jaehyun whispers in your ear and sighed. "Go to the bathroom. I'll take care of Sunoh," you tell him and Jaehyun nodded. He quickly took something to cover himself then his phone and disappeared into the bathroom to jerk off. Meanwhile, you lift Sunoh up and cuddle with him. "Did you sleep well, my big one?" You ask him while you stroke his hair. "YES!" He grinned and then giggled.

In the afternoon you go for a walk with Johanna and the twins. The next few days was her appointment for the abortion and she was starting to feel bad. Thousands of thoughts were in her head, and she was also slowly noticing symptoms of her pregnancy such as fatigue and nausea. "Do you think you shouldn't tell Johnny after all?" You ask her and push the stroller with the twins in front of you. "I just can't ..." She sighed and looked into the distance. "Did you tell Jaehyun?" She asked worried and you shake your head. "No, he would be mad that I would bother him with something like that and he would ultimately tell Johnny. He doesn't even know that I'm going to meet you now." You sigh because you hate to be hiding something from Jaehyun, but if he would ask, you couldn't keep quiet. "Thanks Y/N, I know this is difficult for you." Johanna felt guilty, but it wasn't easy for her either. "It's tough I know, but I'm sure you know you are doing the right thing." Johanna nodded briefly and it was quiet for a moment. "I wish I was the person who can keep the child. But I fight so hard to be a good mother to Jaina and Jasper. But sometimes I look at them when they cry and I feel nothing. No motherly love, I'm just cold. As soon as I hear they in the morning they annoy me. I'm happy when they are with Johnny. I don't miss them either. I take care of them and everything, but I'm happy if they are asleep or not there. Something is wrong with me." Johanna suddenly started crying and you couldn't do anything other than hold her in your arms. "I've wanted kids with Johnny so badly. I always thought I'd be a good Mum, but I'm not ... I'm not ..." She kept sobbing and then began to stutter. "You are not?" You try to help her, but Johanna still found it difficult to say everything. She takes a step to the side and stares at you. "I am not like you!" She presses her lips together as if she had said something insulting. "Like me?" "Come on Y/N, you are Mother Theresa of everyone here. You already have four children, love them all and take care of them. You even take care of Chichi." Johanna sighed and her shoulders slumped. "I think some people are born with it, some are not." You smile and stroke her shoulder. "Yes, probably." Johanna smiled too and the mood was a little better now. It helped her to speak honestly with you about everything.

When you slowly got home, Johanna stopped and suddenly hugged you. "Thank you for being there for me. Without you everything would be much harder." "No problem. I'm always there for you." You hug her tightly and try to give her as much comfort as possible. And suddenly Johanna became very gentle. "Sorry I'm so emotional. Probably the pregnancy hormones." "Pregnancy Hormones?" Johnny suddenly came out of your house and spotted you both. Johanna gave her a startled look and you couldn't say anything either. "What's going on here?", Johnny asked a little louder now. In the meantime Cujo ran out of the house to greet you and for this reason Jaehyun ran after your dog and he was also surprised to see you with Johanna. "Oh, hi Johanna," he greeted her uncertainly. "Johanna, what's going on? Why are you talking about pregnancy hormones?" Johnny was really angry now and he wanted an answer. "It's nothing ..." Johanna tried to lie, but he no longer believed her. "I heard what you said. ARE YOU PREGNANT?" Johnny almost screamed in anger or maybe in panic. However, from the noise, Kiwoo wakes up and starts crying. "Maybe we can go into the house and sort it out in peace?" Jaehyun helped you with the stroller while you pick up Kiwoo and hug him. You all go into the house and Jaehyun now also took Geon, who was still asleep. The children were all still playing in the living room and Jasper slept in the bed where the twins actually sleep. You sit in the kitchen and Johnny was really upset. Kiwoo was already grabbing your chest and indicating that he was hungry. And you had no choice in the midst of this drama to bare your chest and nurse Kiwoo. But Johnny and Johanna are used to it now. Jaehyun placed Geon next to Jasper and then came to the table too. "So what's going on?" He asked and saw Johnny and Johanna look at each other. "Is that what I think?", Johnny then asked and Johanna nodded. "Say it!" Johnny wanted to hear it with his own ears. Johanna looked at you and tears stood in her eyes. "Everything is fine," you say gently and stroke her hand. She nodded and you could only guess how bad she was. "I'm pregnant." It took Johanna so much courage and strength to tell him. "WHAT?" Jaehyun was totally surprised, but Johnny had another question. "From me?" "Of course from you. I don't sleep around with anyone that easily." Johanna felt offended by his question. You could see her chest move up and down. Her breathing was heavy and she didn't know how to react. "Okay okay. We should see how we do this. When is your next check-up?" Johnny was already making plans in his head, but Johanna quickly got him out of his thoughts. "I can't. I'll have an abortion. I'll have the appointment in a few days. Y/N is with me." Johanna tried to stick to the facts, but she couldn't look her ex-husband in the eye. "You want to have an abortion?" Johnny was shocked, he hadn't expected that. "Yes...." The first tears rolled down her cheek. "If I didn't meet you here by chance, you would never have told me, would you?" He asked and Johanna nodded. "WHY?" He punshed his fists on the table and Kiwoo became restless again. He started to cry and you didn't know why he was so sensitive to sounds. "Johnny, please ..." Jaehyun noticed that the children were getting restless and would like to talk it down as quietly as possible. "I just don't get it, it's our child." Johnny started to cry too. "I think we'll leave you alone", Jaehyun then says and you join him. Together with Kiwoo you go into the living room, where the children played or slept. "Mummy, I want to cuddle too." Sunoh came to you and lay down on your lap. He was having jealous phases again and wanted all your attention. "My big boy, I've been snuggling with you all morning." And don't even have sex because of it. "Again," he said, grinning. "Mummy will cuddle you later. Play with Jaina and your sister," Jaehyun said seriously and you could see that there was a lot on his mind. "Noooo." Sunoh defied and you stroke his head. "Okay, then lie there. But Daddy and I need to talk." Sunoh nodded and lay down on your lap. "What do you want to tell me Jaehyun?" You knew just by his look that he didn't like any of this. "How could you keep that to yourself?" "Because it's Johanna's business." It was very easy. You knew it was hard for her. It was her choice and you just wanted to be there for her. "But Johnny has a right to know." "He knows now." The conversation annoys you now, it wasn't your concern. "You should have said it," said Jaehyun then and looked at you seriously. "Jaehyun, this is not our fight. Do you want to fight now?" You got louder and snippier because you didn't want to interfere too much. But Kiwoo was restless again. He stopped drinking and started crying. "My little one, what's the matter with you today?" You stroke his cheek and he looked at you with wide eyes. You don't know why, but whenever you look at your children in such a moment, you became very calm. "I don't want to argue. But if you had an abortion ..." "I'm not Johanna," you interrupt him. "I'm just saying I understand Johnny in that case ..." Jaehyun tried to speak calmly, but you didn't want to argue. "And I understand Johanna in that case." In the moment you look into the kitchen and see that Johanna was crying. It was enough for you now, you didn't want to leave her in so much stress. So you got up and went to the two. "Johanna, is everything okay?", You ask her and Jaehyun followed you. "Yeah, I just have to go home." She got up and wiped away her tears. "Shall I take you home?" You ask her and she shook her head. "Thanks for everything Y/N." She hugged you tightly and then ran out of the house. You and Jaehyun look at Johnny and don't know what to do. "She still wants to have an abortion ..." he said and was just desperate.

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 5

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,569

Warnings: none

A/N: Let me just thank you for your support, it’s so heartwarming and I love you so much. I’m sorry this chapter is so long, I have no idea how that happened. I hope you enjoy this :’)

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

After you agreed to move in with Bucky and become a full time artist, everything started to move incredibly fast. The dinner went well, you worked out the details of your contract with Sam and Nat who didn’t seem surprised that this was happening.

You left your job almost overnight, only giving them two weeks’ notice. They easily found a new breakfast attendant and you even trained your replacement. You emptied your locker, returned your name tag and your master key, and went on your merry way.

Now you were on your way to Bucky’s apartment, a suitcase full of clothes between your legs and another full of administrative papers, beauty products and whatnot between Natasha’s legs. She had insisted on coming with you to help you get settled. You didn’t own furniture or anything that required her help so you figured she just wanted to make sure Bucky was treating you right.

He had already transferred your monthly allowance to your bank account, which prompted your bank to call you. They wanted to know where the 5 thousand dollars came from and you told them it was a gift. “If your friend’s looking for new friends give them my number, yeah?” the man on the phone told you.

The rocking motion of the train had a soothing effect on you, almost lulling you to sleep. You let your head fall against the window and played one of your favourite game –people watching.

There was a man reading a newspaper, standing with his feet apart as if the cart was one giant skateboard. A woman was putting on makeup, another was playing a game on her phone. The woman sitting next to you was wrestling with her toddler who wanted to snatch your scarf. It was a quiet day.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Natasha asked, her face as cold as stone.

“’Bout what?” you replied in a sleepy voice.

“About your crush on James.”

“I don’t have a crush on Bucky.”

As soon as the words passed your lips, a tiny, sticky hand landed on your jaw, making a wet slapping sound. You blinked hard, your eyes trained on Natasha who was now openly smiling at the toddler next to you.

“See? Even the baby knows you’re a liar,” she said, singing the last word.

You turned your head to look at the baby and saw him put his fist in his mouth, his eyes bright and wide. With a happy squeal he launched himself at you again, smacking you in the face. The mother apologized and held her child against her chest, softly admonishing him to stop throwing himself at strangers. You felt that. He spent the rest of the ride looking at you.

“So, really, you’re going to move in with a man you have a massive crush on, and we’re not even going to talk about it,” she pressed on.

You huffed, wiping baby goo from your cheek with your sleeve. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“And you’re the bone.”

You got off the train and walked to Bucky’s apartment, your suitcase rolling behind you. Natasha was silent next to you, something that almost never happened. You counted your steps in your head, waiting for her to speak.

“You didn’t have to move out of my apartment.”

22 steps. That’s how long Natasha managed to stay quiet for. “Of course, I had to. I’m not going to do Brooklyn-Chelsea every day.”

When Bucky had offered his guest bedroom, your first reaction had been to politely refuse. Bucky seemed like a nice guy, but what if he had a glass cage in his basement? What if he trapped you there and commissioned paintings to you? Psycho killer, qu'est ce que c'est.

Then he opened up about his past, his insecurities, and it made you long to hold him. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, the kind that only come from an unprotected heart. You realized there was more chance of you hurting him than the opposite.

“You’re the one who organized this whole thing,” you reminded Natasha.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you had a crush on him. And if someone tells Okoye this was my idea, she’ll kill me.”

You turned to her with a not-sorry smile. “Yup.”

Your big sister was like most big sisters: extremely protective. When your mother had to work late, she was in charge and she took her role very seriously. You were nine when she finally got her driver’s licence, and that day she graduated from sister to mother. Eat your vegetables. Did you do your homework? I know you didn’t brush your teeth.

Okoye was loyal, protective, intimidating, and never afraid to speak her mind. When she decided to join the Dora Milaje, you thought the job was perfect for her –the king’s bodyguard, now that’s something you’d like to put on your resume.

“Do you want me to stay tonight?” Natasha asked as you got inside the elevator.

“Why are you so worried?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed her back against the wall and shrugged. “It’s always been you and me. Since first grade.”

You returned her sad smile with one of your own. “Heckle and Jeckle.”

She barked out a laugh at the memory. It was the nickname her father had for the two of you. It used to be a popular animated cartoon in the 50s. It was the story of two talking magpies who were always getting into some kind of trouble.

You stepped out of the elevator, still arguing about which one of you got to be Jeckle, the less problematic of the two, when you noticed that Bucky was patiently waiting for you by the front door. He didn’t say anything but there was an amused smile on his face.

He let you put your suitcases in the guest room near the kitchen and told you that he had to run a few errands, giving you a little privacy. Natasha hung up your clothes in the wardrobe while you unpacked your other stuff and put them away in the drawers of your dresser.

It didn’t take you long to unpack. When you were done, you threw yourself onto the bed, watching Natasha. You were excited to sleep in a real bed, you couldn’t stop running your hands up and down the comforter.

“Jeckle,” Natasha said, looking at the mostly empty wardrobe. “You need new clothes.”

“Ugh, yes,” you groaned from the bed.

When you were a teenager, you used to spend every weekend at the mall with your sisters and Natasha. Your wardrobe wasn’t big enough to fit all your clothes and your mother often asked you to get rid of the things you didn’t wear anymore. You never did.

Then life happened, and you didn’t have the energy or money to go shopping anymore.

You went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Bucky’s fridge was even bigger than the one you had at work, and it was full of food in neatly labelled rows of Tupperware containers. The one in front of you was labelled ‘baby carrots’.

“Neat freak alert,” Natasha commented, peering over your shoulder into the refrigerator.

“Stop it.”

You took a bottle of water and sat at the kitchen island while Natasha continued investigating his kitchen. Bucky had several gadgets that few people had in their kitchen like a cutting board with suction cups on the bottom and nails on top to hold the food in place while slicing.

It was obvious that he liked to cook, and for some reason it made you smile. You pictured him cooking for one and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. It was a sad mental image and you shook your head to get rid of it.

The front door opened and you lifted your head to see what Natasha was doing. She was holding Bucky’s meal plan, perusing it intensely. Bucky entered the room and greeted you with a smile before he made his way over to the fridge.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked.

Natasha waved the meal plan in your direction mouthing ‘it’s laminated’ while Bucky retrieved a bottle of water for himself. You gestured wildly at her to put it back down.

“No, I’m good,” you replied with a slightly crazed smile. He looked between you and Natasha with a frown. “Natasha was about to leave.”

“Was I?” she replied, tilting her head.

“Yeah, you have stuff to do, remember?” You gave her a pointed stare.

“No.”

You widened your eyes at her and moved your head in the direction of the hallway that led to the front door. You tried to be discreet but you knew you weren’t fooling anyone. She watched you, unfazed.

Luckily, Bucky came to your rescue.

“Thank you for coming all the way out here, Natasha. Do you want me to call you a cab?” His tone left no room for discussion. You hid your grin behind your glass.

“That won’t be necessary,” she replied without looking at him.

You walked Natasha back to the front door and opened it. She glared at something over your shoulder and you turned to see if Bucky was there. He wasn’t.

“Wait, I forgot to tell him that if he hurts you I’ll kill him.”

You grabbed her by the shoulders when she tried to move past you. “I think he got the message. Thanks for coming with me. I’ll call you tonight.”

“You’d better,” she warned with a slow nod.

When you returned to the kitchen, it really dawned on you that you were alone with Bucky. He glanced up at you while he was going through his mail. You took your seat and nervously looked around the room. It was too quiet, you didn’t like it.

“I like your friend,” he said, grinning. “She seems very protective of you.”

“She is,” you sighed.

An uncomfortable and strangely melancholic silence hung between you. You were both afraid to say or do the wrong thing. You felt like you didn’t belong there; like a patch sewed on a worn out pair of jeans, mending holes.

“You ok?”

You looked up at him. “Yeah, I just feel a little awkward. I’m... not sure what you want me to do now.”

“Nothing,” he said, rounding the kitchen island to sit on the stool next to you. His eyebrows were pulled together in concern. “This is your home. You can do whatever you want.”

“It doesn’t really feel like my home.” You shrugged one shoulder. “It kinda feels like I just unloaded my crap in your guest room, which is exactly what happened.”

He observed you a moment. “Well, make it your home. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here.”

“So,” you glanced at him sideways. “If I bought a few things to make this place more... homey, you wouldn’t be mad?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled up as his smile grew. “I’m begging you to make this place more homey. It’s really boring, isn’t it?” he said, looking around the kitchen with a comical frown.

You chuckled. “No, it’s not. Well, maybe a little.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” he said with a laugh.

Bucky watched you with his cheek in the palm of his hand. Your eyes were moving around the room, making mental notes of the things you wanted to add. He smiled, the sparkle was back in your eyes.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, straightening up.

He left the room for a second and came back with his hand hidden behind his back. You looked at him with a playfully suspicious frown as he approached you. You followed his movements closely, your frown deepening when he placed a little white box on the kitchen counter.

“Open it.”

You removed the lid and pulled out a set of keys, undoubtedly the keys to his apartment. The keychain was gleaming the light; a small silver angel that fit snugly in the palm of your hand.

You barely managed to croak out a thank you before you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. His body tensed instantly and you were about to apologize when you felt his arm wrap around you.

You felt pressure build in your throat, a tingling sensation in your nose, and tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck. The last thing you wanted was for him to catch you crying over a set of keys. Though deep down it wasn’t about the keys, it was the accumulation of pent-up emotions and the realization that you were now completely free to follow your dreams.

You released him but he was still hanging on to you. Tight. His heart was beating fast against your chest. He was a lonely man craving human interaction. So you closed your eyes and rubbed your hands up and down his back –gently and out of sync. After a few long minutes, he untangled himself from you.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “C’mon, there’s something else I want to show you.”

“Another gift?” You sighed his name when you noted the guilty expression on his face. “It’s too much.”

“It’s a practical gift, hardly a gift at all.”

He took you upstairs to the room that was now your studio. The room hadn’t changed since your last visit, except for the easel placed in the centre. You entered slowly as if you were approaching a frightened mythological creature. You ran your fingers along the wood, your chest tight with the heft of your emotions.

You hadn’t seen one in a while, and now it was right in front of you, beckoning. “Show me how you feel,” the easel said. “Show the world what you’re made of.”

“Thank you so much,” you said, your voice soft.

“I thought it was the perfect housewarming gift for you.”

You turned to him and smiled. “It is. I already bought everything I need. Paint, knives, brushes, canvases... an easel. Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to buy me one. It’s good to have more than one though. Online shops are a bit impersonal.” You walked toward the door where he was waiting. “I miss the smell of art supply stores. It’s so intoxicating, it really gets the creative juices flowing.”

“What does it smell like?”

You closed your eyes and tried to concentrate. “It’s a mix of paint and paper, a woody pencil-sharpening smell mixed with chemicals and ash.”

“Sounds relaxing.”

“It’s heaven,” you said with a dreamy sigh.

Bucky gave you a fond smile and glanced at the keychain still in your hand. “So that’s where angels come from, uh?”

You laughed and pushed his good shoulder playfully. Ever since that fateful day when Bucky asked you out for coffee and you mistook his business date for a romantic date, you learned not to take the things he said too seriously. Bucky was a nice guy, a bit of a flirt sometimes, but his intentions were clear. He wanted a companion, not a girlfriend.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a flash, you went to your room and rearranged a few things while Bucky stayed in his office. At dinnertime you set the table while he finished cooking. You sat in front of a bowl of homemade soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

After you had practically licked your bowl clean, Bucky leaned back in his chair and watched you with a grin. You felt a little embarrassed. You wiped your mouth with your napkin, trying to look a bit more well-mannered.

“It was really good,” you said.

“Thank you. I gotta say, I was tired of cooking for one. It’s not fun.” He put your empty bowl in his and carried them to the sink. You gathered up plates and utensils and followed him. “You’ll have to tell me what you don’t like.”

“As long as you don’t make me eat broccoli ice cream, I’m good.”

He laughed, remembering your conversation from a couple of week ago. “I don’t think I can stomach it either.” He handed you two small plates and two forks. “I bought a cake. I thought we could celebrate our first day together. Is it creepy? I can’t tell.”

“No, that’s a great idea!” you laughed. “You’re making me feel like it’s my birthday.”

You carried everything to the table while he opened the fridge and retrieved a large pink cardboard box. He balanced the box in his hand, a sharp knife sitting on top. “I’m surprised you didn’t bake it yourself,” you said, picking up the knife.

“Dessert isn’t my forte.” He opened the cardboard box, revealing a three-layer red velvet cake. “I’m too much of a perfectionist. I can make pretty decent pies but sponge cakes are hard to control when you only have one hand.”

“We can bake cakes together if you want. I’m clumsy as hell but I’m willing to learn.”

“That’d be nice,” he replied with a smile.

It was, without a doubt, the best cake you’d ever had in your life. It was incredibly light. The chocolate and vanilla burst in your mouth, mixing perfectly with the bitterness of the buttermilk.

“Red velvet is my favorite,” Bucky said, licking his fork. “Blueberry cheesecakes are good too. And Blackout cakes, umm, so good. Except fruitcakes,” he said, his mouth twisted into a downturned grimace. “Fruitcakes are the devil.”

“You’ve got quite the sweet tooth.”

“You have no idea,” he said, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

After a minute of silence, you said, “The last time I ate red velvet cake, my sister had put too much white vinegar. It was disgusting but we didn’t want to hurt her feelings so we ate all of it.”

Bucky chuckled. “How many siblings do you have?”

It was a standard get-to-know-you question and you knew he would ask it at some point. Yet, it made your guts twist in pain. It was a question you always dreaded because you didn’t have a clear answer to it. Should you leave Pietro out? He was gone but he was still your brother.

“I, uh,” you mumbled, staring down at your half-eaten slice of cake. “I’m not sure what the answer is.” He frowned at you, confused. “Do you... do you count the ones you lost?”

Understanding flashed in his eyes and he gave you a patient smile. “Yes, I do.”

You met his eyes and tried to smile, though you were pretty sure it looked more like a grimace. “I have four siblings then.” You took a forkful of cake and chewed slowly, allowing yourself a few seconds to clear your thoughts. Without success.

“I was adopted,” you revealed. His eyebrows rose in surprise but he let you continue. “We were all adopted. My mom lost her husband when she was young. They wanted to have a big family but they were too busy working. They both had very demanding jobs.”

“What did they do?”

“He was in the military, and she was the co-founder of an extra-governmental military counter-terrorism and intelligence agency.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Bucky chuckled.

“You should hear their name.” He gave you a ‘go ahead’ look. “It’s the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.”

You watched Bucky process the name, waiting for the moment realization would dawn on him. Then his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? Your mom’s the co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D.” He stared at you, his mouth wide open. “Your mom’s Peggy Carter!? Jesus Christ,” he sighed, shaking himself out of his stupor. “When we were kids, me, Stevie and a couple of other kids pretended to be secret agents working for S.H.I.E.L.D. We even had a name: the Howling Commandos.”

You screwed your eyes shut, a smile breaking across your face. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, embarrassment colouring his face. “I dunno why I’m telling you this. Please, don’t tell your mom.”

Your laughter died down, and you continued smiling at him. He was cute when he was flustered. You smothered that thought as soon as it materialized.

“I didn’t know she had adopted five kids.”

“Yeah, I guess her job as the co-founder of one the most important secret agency gave her the freedom to adopt without having to wait.”

“Do you get along with your siblings?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, kinda. Scott, my older brother, is a few years younger than you. He’s really smart but he’s a big goof. He left for San Francisco when I was a kid. My sister, Okoye, left when I was 19. She’s King T’Chaka’s bodyguard.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” you chucked. “The twins are only three years older than me. We were really close, but then Pietro,” you took a small pause, “he, um, he died and, Wanda, she couldn’t stay anymore. It was too much, y’know. She went to Sokovia -where they were born- and she never came home. Last I heard, she was backpacking through Europe.”

“You still have your mom though,” Bucky said with a warm smile.

“She’s in London,” you said, smiling even though you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep yourself from crying. “She’s in a nursing home. She was diagnosed with a form of dementia, something similar to Alzheimer. She has no idea who I am.”

You tried to speak in a normal, detached tone but your voice wavered and you fought not to cry. Bucky reached for your hand, your nails had left half-moon indentations in your palm. Wordlessly, he smoothed his thumb over your palm, inspecting the damage.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice soft.

Until now it had never occurred to you that you had never said those things out loud before. Natasha knew because she’d been with you through all of it. She was your best friend, the only person who hadn’t abandoned you yet.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d met someone new, someone you felt comfortable enough to talk to about your family.

You didn’t want to end the day on a sad note, so you pulled yourself together. You straightened up, wiped your eyes and sniffed back the tingling feeling in your nose. Bucky seemed to notice that you wanted to change the subject because he let go of your hand and picked up his fork again.

“So,” you said after clearing your throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“It’s a serious question and it’s important that you tell me the truth.”

Bucky flinched, his throat working as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I promise.”

You took a deep breath and rotated your head left and right, working the kinks out of your neck and back. Then you levelled him with a direct stare.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

Bucky recoiled as if he had misheard you. He looked momentarily startled by your question before he burst into laughter. When your face remained stoic, he realized you weren’t joking. “Oh? Umm, I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He seemed lost in thought for a second. “I like blue.”

“Which blue? Navy? Tiffany blue? Sapphire? Baby blue? Teal? Duck-egg? Turquoise?” you enumerated them quickly.

“Just...blue?” he replied carefully. You took a deep breath and released it slowly, shaking your head. “No, wait,” he added in a hurry. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration while he was trying to come up with a better answer. “The color of the sky when a storm is brewing. That’s my favorite color.”

You smirked. “Poetic.”

“Well, I’m a writer,” he replied with a lopsided grin. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Oh no, you can’t ask me that. I’m a painter, it’s like asking a parent who their favourite child is.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded, waving his hand to dismiss the question. “Let me ask you an equally important question.”

“Oh, boy,” you laughed.

The warmth of his laughter was reassuring. It made you feel at ease, calm. What you hadn’t realized yet was that you weren’t trying to change your personality to please him. You were yourself, flaws and all.

“When you read a book, how do you keep track of your reading?” he asked. “Do you use a bookmark? Receipts? Candy wrappers? Book ribbon? Do you fold the corner of the page? Do you leave the book face down or memorize the page number? I need to know.”

You didn’t have to think about it. “Dog ears.”

“Oh, God, you’re a folder.” He stared up at the ceiling and sighed heavily. “I think I got you all wrong. You’re not an angel, you’re a little demon.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line to hide a smile.

He quickly gathered up the dirty plates and carried them to the sink while you remained seated at the table, laughing. You turned in your chair and saw him fill the sink with hot water and suds. What kind of millionaire doesn’t own a dishwasher?

“I bet you also write in ‘em,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a hint of a smirk.

“No, I would never,” you said, joining him at the sink. “I like books that look old though. Cracked spines, folded corners, tea or coffee stains.”

“Please, stop I’m going to hyperventilate,” he joked.

You chuckled. “Do you a have a towel?” you asked, giving him a little tap with your hip so he would scoot sideways.

He let go of the knife he was washing and pulled out a towel from the cabinet under the sink. You were a bit in awe of the way he cleaned everything with only one hand but you didn’t want to sound condescending so you kept it to yourself.

“What’s the point of having books if they look like nobody’s ever opened them?” you said. “I want to know my books had a good life before I bought them. I want to know they were loved. Sometimes when you love something, you mess it up a little.” He rinsed a plate and handed it to you. “I bet you have one of those sentence pointer bookmarks.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and you cursed yourself, thinking you might have hurt his feelings with your little teasing. His meal plan was fucking laminated, of course he had a sentence pointer bookmark. When he spoke, you felt like you could breathe again.

“I do have a bookmark. My niece made it for me at school. It’s pink and it has a braided pink and purple ribbon. No sentence pointer.”

His rueful smile and slightly red cheeks made your chest warm. You had to remind yourself that Bucky wasn’t flirting with you. He was just being nice.

“I’m jealous,” you said. “I wish I had one.”

“That can be arranged,” he nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in a pensive pout.

You wondered what this would look like if someone were to enter the room right now. They’d see you and Bucky, standing side by side at the sink as though you were the protagonists of a Norman Rockwell painting called ‘Domestic Bliss’. You wanted more days like this one.

“Yeah?” you breathed out. “You sure?”

“Anything for you, angel.”

Part 6

[missscarletta7]

The Broken Crown- Chapter 2

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

Hello! Enjoy chapter 2!

OoOoOo

"Keep spendin' most our lives, Livin' in the gangsta's paradise,

Tell me why are we so blind to see,

That the ones we hurt, are you and me"

~Gangsters Paradise~

1919

"Mags." Was the first thing the young girl heard as she was gently shaken awake, "Go lay in your bed, eh?"

Upon half-opening her eyes, she saw it was Tommy who had been talking to her. Maggie only then realized she had fallen asleep sitting upright. She responded by rubbing her neck and slowly nodding. Clumsily she got off the bed with her journal in hand.

It was early. The exact time she wasn't sure, but sunlight wasn't streaming through the window yet. She entered the quiet hallway, navigating herself to her bedroom in the darkness. When she opened her door, she discovered a figure standing in the middle of the half-lit room changing clothes.

"There you are," Ada whispered out, shimming out of her slip, "Was wondering what happened to you."

"Slept in Tommy's room," She explained, yawning lightly. "Just get in? What time is it?"

Her sister nodded as she continued to change into a nightdress, slipping the fabric over her head. "It's just past four." She informed as the younger girl motioned her way around her sister to flop onto the bed, making it creak from the force of body weight.

"How was your night?" asked Maggie, moving to make her head more comfortable on the old shapeless pillow.

"Romantic." The older girl hummed, sliding into bed next to her sister. "I've never felt this way about anyone."

Maggie turned her body on her side. "Wish I could put a name and face to this mystery man." She watched her sister's eyes flash with guilt. At the realization of her thoughts were now said aloud, regret formed in the pit of Maggie’s stomach.

"I promise I'll tell you sooner than you think, I just-" Ada didn't have to finish the sentence for Maggie to understand what she was going to say: 'I just can't deal with our brothers if they find out '.

"I know Ada," was the last thing the sleepy girl said before closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep.

Eventually, she woke up again around seven in the morning. Carefully, she got out of bed trying not to wake up her sleeping sister, and dressed accordingly in one of Ada's old dresses. She also made sure to pack her journal into her book bag before making her way downstairs. Once in the kitchen, she saw Tommy reading the paper and Finn eating his breakfast.

"Morning." She said, grabbing a bowl and spoon to scoop mushy porridge out of a metal pot, which was sitting on top of the only working stove burner. Polly had most likely prepared it for them. "How did you sleep?"

Tommy knew that question was directed to him, "Better than I have in weeks." This made his sister smile as she sat down in the chair next to him. "Your writing has improved. But then again, I haven't heard you share your work since you were twelve. Pol says you won't even share with her or Ada. Why's that?" He was genuinely curious.

"I don't think it's ready to be shared yet," Maggie shrugged.

He peered at her as he set the paper down onto the table, "You shared last night."

"Only to put you to sleep." She countered, bringing the spoon to her mouth to consume the beige-colored substance.

"Going to have to sometime," he spoke sincerely. "How else are you going to become a writer, eh?"

He was right, she knew that, but right now, her writing felt sacred. As if her words were only meant for her. She was still coming face to face with a paradoxical problem. Every time she would write something down, it would instantly not be good enough. The pages of her journal seemed to have more scribbled-out lines than actual words. She just couldn't explain this feeling properly, and if she couldn't express her feelings in words, how could she write? No, sharing her words would only lead to not being understood. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the opening and slamming of the front door.

"Tommy!" John angrily stormed into the kitchen, "It's Danny! Those fucking Wops got a hit on him."

Tommy answered back by pushing himself out of his chair and hurriedly following his brother out of the home. Finn quickly tried to follow, but Maggie grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, "Let go Mags!" he cried out.

Maggie sighed, "C'mon, let's get you ready for school." Finn could only respond with a groan, allowing his sister to lead him upstairs.

OoOoOo

The next day, a smiling Maggie was squished between John and Finn in the family car. She could barely move without hearing a complaint from John, but she didn't care, she was too excited. They were all on their way to the fair, which had been set up right outside of Birmingham. It had been so long since she had been to one. They were almost there, and she could see the big red and white striped tent peaking over the trees in the distance, so she was confused when Tommy parked the car in a clearing that was still a good distance away.

Arthur spoke up at once, "Thought you said we were going to the fair"

"Yeah, what are we doing?" She asked nervously, leaning her elbows against the front seat.

"We have business first. C'mon, bring your wits." Tommy said getting out of the car with John and Arthur following. He glanced over to his younger siblings noticing they were trying to do the same. " You and Finn stay by the car."

"Seriously?" She just wanted to have a normal day at the fair with her family. Was that too much to ask?

Tommy pointed at her to emphasize. "Stay by the car, Mags."

"What business?" Arthur questioned.

"That's the Lee family," She heard John say.

Great the Lees, thought Maggie sarcastically, as she sank into the seat. Though she did perk herself up when she saw a familiar face walking towards the car.

"Hi, Johnny!" She smiled and waved at the man.

"Well hello pretty lady," Johnny Dogs greeted as he approached the car. "Tell me, have you seen a lass named Maggie?" The teasing tone of his voice was prominent. He had not changed a bit in the four years his presence had been absent.

The girl giggled slightly at his antics, and with a playful air replied, "I'm Maggie."

"You canna be her." He overly acted out in disbelief, "Last time I saw her she was but a child!"

"Hang on a minute," They all heard Arthur say, "You're not swapping the family car for a bloody horse!"

Johnny turned around and quickly walked up to the oldest Shelby, "Of course we're not swapping it. Huh? That would be mad!"

"We're going to play two up," Tommy explained, handing a coin over to the family friend.

"Jesus." Arthur breathed out anxiously, as they all watched the pair toss their coins into the grass and lean forward to get a better view. Silently, Tommy handed over the keys to the car, much to the irritation of the eldest, "I knew it. Tommy, you bloody idiot!"

"Shut up Arthur. I won," Tommy told him, "I promised Johnny I'd let him have a spin in the car if he lost." He watched as the relief washed over his brother's face but was interrupted by collective snickering. He turned to the three men dangerously, "Are you Lee boys laughing at my brother? Are you? Eh? I asked you a question!"

"Tommy! Tommy, c'mon it's just a craic." Johnny reasoned, trying to keep everyone calm, "Get your family out of here and go enjoy yourselves at the fair before they start a war." Johnny then turned to the Lees, and Maggie was able to make out most of what he said. It had something to do about the grandfather she never met before one of the Lees replied, "Yeah, but his mother was a Diddicoy whore."

That had done it. Whipping his weaponized hat off of his head, Tommy slashed at the man's face. Arthur and John quickly joined in. Blood could be seen gushing from their faces as they all yelled obscenities at one another. Finn looked in awe at his brothers, his gaze never wavering from the fight, but Maggie felt sick.

OoOoOo

An hour later they had finally reached their original destination. Looking and walking around the fair was an amazing experience. The many rides, animals, oddities, and food all in one place were a wonderment to the many families that came out from all over the area. Yet, Maggie's level of enthusiasm was less than what Tommy had expected. She couldn't shut up most of the way there, now she was as silent as a stone.

"What's the matter with you, eh?" Tommy questioned as they walked around the fairgrounds together, "Did you want to take a spin on the big wheel ride?" He pointed up to the giant machine with carriages that slowly spun in circles.

She asked quietly, "Did you have to hurt them?" Sure, Maggie knew what her brothers did. She would be naive if she said she didn't, but she had never been a witness to it. The violence that she had often heard others speak of was now forever ingrained in her memory, becoming a standard for their future offenses. "The Lee's." She clarified although she was certain he knew what she was talking about.

"They were disrespecting us Mags," He explained as if she were younger than Finn. "You heard them."

Tommy had always tried to keep her in the dark about their business practices, which was easy when she was younger. Unlike Finn, she had always kept her nose in a book, never really paying attention to the transgressions of her siblings. But now she was beginning to notice and was starting to ask questions he'd rather not answer.

"You couldn't walk away?" Maggie inquired, looking towards anywhere but his face.

He remained silent for a moment before stiffly asking, "Do you want to get on the fucking wheel ride or not?" That was Tommy-ese for 'drop it', so she did, and added herself to the growing line. Tommy followed her lead, standing behind her he pulled a cigarette out to smoke as they waited.

Maggie was quiet the entire duration of the drive back home. The setting sun rays peeked through the gray smog as they entered Small Heath, they all noticed the place had been trashed. Broken and ripped furniture looked like they were just tossed in the streets and all those who watched the Shelby car roll slowly down the street managed to give them all a dirty look.

Arthur was the first to speak up, "Now, what the bloody hells been going on here?"

OoOoOo

Apparently, from what she gathered it had been the new copper that had been behind the trashing of their neighborhood. Maggie and Cara walked through the crowd, as they recounted the events of each other's day. Thankfully the Ryans dress shop had been spared from the destruction and Maggie told her friend everything about the fair, excluding the violent beginning of course. In front of them stood a pile of portraits that had been gathered from around all the homes and businesses of the community. Once they were lit on fire, familiar faces were lit up as well to contrast the darkness. They both soon saw Ross with a crowd of men, most likely coworkers from the BSA. Once he saw them, he waved them off and began moving toward the girls.

"Are you ever going to tell him?" Maggie asked her friend, as they watched the young man weaving his way through the crowd of people.

"I will!" Cara defended before adding, "Eventually." Maggie tried to hide her smile.

"All right ladies?" Ross greeted once he was near enough.

"So, what's all this about then?" Cara questioned somewhat flirtatiously, pointing at the heap of portraits.

"Ask Mags," Ross replied, sending the dark-haired girl a smirk, "It's her brothers that have organized all this, went 'round taking everyone's pictures."

"Oh right, because they run everything by me first." she joked, causing both her friends to chuckle. Cara soon took over in leading the conversation, but Maggie was only half paying attention. Curiously, she watched as Tommy spoke with a man that she had never seen before. He must have felt her gaze because he found her face in the crowd, causing Maggie to quickly divert her stare off her brother. Ross then pulled out a flask from a pocket inside his dark coat.

"Care for a swig?" He asked them, shaking the container slightly. Drinking alcohol was something she had never really made into a habit, for her it was only for special occasions. Without hesitation, Cara took the silver flask from his hand and drank a few gulps before passing it on to Maggie. Maggie glanced back to her brother, who was no longer watching her, but instead had gone back to his discussion with the man who was now writing something down on a pad of paper.

She grabbed the small open bottle in her hand and raised it to her friends, "Cheers." The liquid burned in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow. She coughed at the sensation, making Cara laugh as she took the flask back in her hand, downing what was inside again. The small group of friends joked and drank for the next hour or so, as the flames of the bonfire created a comforting warmth over the burning expressionless eyes of his majesty the king.

OoOoOo

After drinking so much during the bonfire, Cara must not have been feeling too well because she didn't show up to school the next day. Not only that, but it also seemed as though Finn decided to skip again. So unfortunately for Maggie, she was fated to walk home alone. Slung over her shoulder was her book bag which carried a few books, pens, and her journal. As she walked past the first alleyway, she felt a presence quickly appear next to her.

"In need of some company?" Ross asked, tossing his finished cigarette onto the pavement.

"That would be nice." She smiled up at his tall frame, which had a good five inches on her.

He motioned to the bookbag that rested on her shoulder, "Let me help with that."

"I can carry it myself." She calmly asserted, which made the young man grin.

"Now how would it look to all these people around us if I didn't help you with that, Hm?" He waved his index finger around to point at various people going about their day, "Word will get back to my mum, and she'd beat me for not being the gallant gentleman she raised. And you'd be responsible for that. I'm only trying to save you from a guilty conscience later on."

She supposed she shouldn't let that happen. With a small smile, she passed the bag to him which he took gladly.

"Last night was fun, eh?" He continued, slinging her bag over his shoulder.

"It was," she replied, allowing her mind to wander through the fresh memories. "Though I think Cara had too much fun."

"Sounds like her," he snickered out, "Never scared of fun."

"What else do you think about her?" The dark-haired girl pressed.

"Who, Cara?" He asked and Maggie nodded. "I dunno." He shrugged, adding, "Nice I suppose."

"Oh c'mon, you have to see the way she looks at you" Maggie alluded.

"Never noticed." He admitted, looking uncomfortable.

She knew she couldn't push the matter any further than that. It was time to change the subject, "How's work?"

"Factory is on strike again." He answered her, appearing more relaxed, "Freddie thinks we should be compensated more. Guess we'd need that in order to make up for the wages we've lost."

She couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Of course, Freddy had something to do with this. Though she always admired her brothers' old friend for sticking to his beliefs, she silently judged anyone whose beliefs ranged on the spectrum of radical. "Freddie needs to be more careful. As do you, he's going to get everyone in some serious trouble."

He smiled at her worried words, "He'll be fine. I heard from other workers that he skipped town after the raid. As for me, I think that a bit of trouble is the only way to get what you want."

They had just turned onto Watery Lane, their pace began to slow until they eventually stopped just across the street from the front door of her home. "You didn't have to walk me all the way home, you know," she told him as he handed her book bag back.

His hazel eyes meet her blue ones, "I'd do anything for you, Margaret," he declared seriously. She couldn't help but think that there was a hidden meaning in his words. Was she reading too much into this? He must have meant that as her friend, right?

"I-," she started.

"Maggie!" Tommy's voice rang out.

Maggie turned her head to see her brother as he made his way toward them. The girl's heart clenched at the thought of what he was going to do. Her mind had quickly jumped back to the memory of yesterday, the slashing, the anger, the blood. She glanced over to Ross, whose expression went from nervous to stoic in a matter of seconds.

"Go inside," Tommy instructed once he stood close enough to the two teens.

"But-"

"Now Mags," he commanded with a low voice. Coolly, Tommy took a drag from his cigarette that was resting in between his fingers, not taking his eyes off Ross.

With a huff and a final look towards her friend, Maggie bid him farewell before swiftly walking toward the front door of her family home. Once the dark-haired girl was out of earshot Ross apprehensively spoke, "Mr. Shelby I- I was just walking her home, I wasn't trying to-"

"I know Ross," Tommy assured the anxious young man, tossing his finished cigarette to the ground. Pol had told him that the young Murray lad had helped look after his sister while he and his brothers were away in France. Had even heard a rumor amongst some of the younger men in the betting shop that he knocked the shit out of another boy who was sniffing around Margaret. If that was true, Tommy felt indebted. He was a busy man, so he cut to the chase, "You beat a bloke that was giving Maggie trouble?"

Ross modestly nodded at his question. "You're a good lad." The gangster commended, passing the young man one of his cigarettes from its silver metal casing. He also lit a match to assist him with lighting it. "Is your Uncle Ian still living in Dublin?"

Ross had to admit, he wasn't expecting the line of questioning to head in this direction. Nevertheless, he nodded once again, removing the rolled tobacco from his lips to allow a puff of smoke to escape from his lungs. The young man's confusion ceased when he watched Tommy pull out two pounds sterling from his pocket. Ross’s eyes couldn't help but widen at the act.

"Good, I want you to do me a favor. Call him and tell him to ask around all the local pubs in town if they know anything about a barmaid named Grace Burgess." As much as Tommy wanted to say he didn't care about this new woman who had found herself working at The Garrison, he needed to know exactly where she came from and if she was telling the truth. Digging out another pound he said, "Here send this to your uncle too."

"I will Mr. Shelby," he assured, accepting the coins in his outreached hand.

Tommy turned away and began walking toward his home, without looking back he added, "Welcome to the Peaky Blinders, Ross."

OoOoOo

When Maggie entered her home, she found Polly sitting in the kitchen reading a newspaper and drinking tea. "Hello, love. How was school?"

"Fine." She replied curtly, dropping her book bag onto the floor beside the table. She immediately moved to the window, looking out just in time to see Tommy lighting a cigarette for Ross. Relief washed over Maggie, this conversation thankfully seemed as though it wouldn't involve fists... or razor blades.

Polly's eyes were now on her, "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." Maggie tore herself away from the window to sit down opposite her aunt, pulling out her journal and pen from the book bag next to her feet. Tommy ended up entering the kitchen not two minutes later.

"I hope you didn't tell my friend that you'd hurt him." Maggie told her brother much more boldly than she felt, "He was just being kind."

He stared at her for a moment before replying knowingly, "Now why would I hurt my newest recruit." With that, he exited into the betting shop closing the doors behind him. She gapped, still looking at the shut doors trying to process how Tommy could ever involve her friend in whatever schemes he was engaging in.

Her emotions must have shown all over her face because her aunt chuckled slightly. "I wouldn't worry too much about your friend," Polly told her eyes still on the black and white paper. But Maggie couldn't stop herself from slumping into the old wooden chair before she continued writing, ultimately stopping when she felt her sister's presence enter the room.

"Good of you to join us," Polly said to Ada from behind her newspaper. "Where have you been all day?

"In bed," Ada replied. "Couldn't sleep, then I couldn't wake up, then I was cold, and then I had to go for a wee. Then I was with this bear on a boat, but that was just a dream, then I was hungry." Maggie looked up from her journal once again to see that Ada took the empty seat between her and their aunt with a massive slice of bread with a jar of jam in hand.

Maggie looked pointedly at the last of the bread that she had made recently, "Jesus Ada, save some food for the rest of us."

Ada stuck her tongue out, before looking at her aunt, "Why are you reading the paper?" Ada inquired.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Polly questioned back, picking up her teacup.

"I've never seen you read the paper. I've only ever seen you light fires with them." The older Shelby sister continued, taking a bite of her food.

"BSA is on strike" Polly explained, "The miners are on strike. IRA are killing our boys, ten a day." Though when Polly stopped talking, she continued to stare at Ada eating.

The older girl soon noticed her aunt's gaze. "What?" She asked in between her chewing.

"Stand up," Polly commanded.

"Why?" Ada questioned.

"Just stand up," Polly ordered standing up herself, eventually Ada compiled, "Side on," Polly added and Ada motioned her body to face to the side. Maggie was taken aback when Polly suddenly cupped one of her sisters' breasts.

Though Ada was much more reactionary, "What are you doing?!"

"Ada, how late are you?" Polly asked seriously and Maggie couldn't stop her mouth as it fell open slightly.

"One week." Not too bad, Maggie thought. "Five weeks," Ada amended. It wasn't ideal, but maybe she was due any day now. "Seven, if you count weekends." The girl corrected herself once again.

"Holy Fuck, "Maggie shook her head in disbelief.

Ada seemed desperate for this not to be the reality, "I think it's a lack of iron. I got some tablets." She explained to them, as Polly sat back down in her chair.

"But they didn't work." Their aunt concluded.

Ada too sat back down, "No."

Maggie gulped at her sister's answer and looked to her aunt, watching Polly as she took a deep breath. The thought process could not be seen on her face, but the young girls knew that the situation was being meticulously addressed in her mind. "Get dressed. We're going to the midwife. Let's just make sure you are before anyone makes any rash decisions."

Ada nodded, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. Maggie's heart clenched, and moved her hand over her sisters, squeezing it slightly. Whatever was to come, they would weather through it together.

[bokunosimpfiction]

Familiar!Heisenberg x Witch!Reader Pt.1 of 2

Summary: Your wolf familiar Heisenberg is a nuisance, as always.

No triggers! :)

             Mia looks down into her cup of tea. The cup was shallow and wide, with several golden rings, getting progressively closer as they reached the edge of the cup. Steam rose from the water, bringing the chamomile aroma up into her nose. She looks over at her husband and smiles, softly. “Ethan, we need to gift her another tea set, they only have the tasseography set we gifted them when they moved out.”

             You give a hearty chuckle. “I only use these when you come around, the set misses you very much.”

Ethan smiles at you, rubbing the back of his sleeping baby with his hand. “Witches-ware tends to do that, miss the ones who owned it before, hence why I’m not very for giving a new witch used goods.” He gives a jokingly stern look to his wife before he continues. “But Mia insisted.”

“Well, they haven’t smashed them yet, so I think I made the right call!”

You bring a cup from another set up to your lips and take a sip, pinky out just to poke slight fun at her. “I think you’re familiar is rubbing off on you, Mia,” you say, “you come into my house, complain about my tea-set and not even mention that I used fresh Blood of Hestia and Elf Leaf to make the tea you’re currently drinking.” Ethan tries so hard not to laugh at her, knowing a smack on his forehead would follow shortly after. “You know, I’m sure if my familiar was here right now, I’m sure you’d kick him with your new heels on the way out the door.”

Her eye twitches slightly, “Alcina isn’t that bad, is she Ethan?”

He sighs. “I think the only reason she tolerates either of us is because she likes Rose. She’s more Rose’s familiar than she is either of ours.”

“Well at least our-“

“Rose’s-“ You correct.

“Well at least Rose’s familiar doesn’t track in di-“

Her statement is interrupted by your familiar, in human form, bursting through the door and ducking under the frame. He’s covered head to toe in dirt, more mud caked on his boots frosting on a cake, holding various plants in his thick-gloved hands. As soon as the door opened, you could see that feral grin spread across his face, his fangs visible. “I’ve brought the plants you asked for.”

“Excuse me Mia, Ethan.” You rise from your seat to greet your familiar and remove his hat and glasses from his head. His salt and pepper hair and wolf ears are visible. “Hello, Karl.” You place a hand on either cheek and go on your tippy-toes, and he leans down so you can place a curt kiss on his forehead. “Someone went rolling in the mud on their way back.” You too have a cheeky grin on your face.

“Can’t help myself, it’s in my blood.” It’s not “blood” so much as nature, rescues do that,

“I know.” You made it a point to keep your hands on his cheeks. The well-needed attention made him burn like a fever. “You got the eyebright and Dog Berries?”

“Ran into some lion’s teeth and-“ He stops and sniffs the air for a second before turning to Mia and Ethan. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Winter’s and their little dew of the sea…” He goes to step further into the house, but you place a firm hand on his chest. It only stops him because he lets it.

“Take your shoes off and put the herbs in the sink before you greet the guests.”

His expression of smug joy deflates for a moment. He, just like his blood sister Alcina, had taken an extreme liking to Rose. Although his was in a more, “uncle who encourages bad decision making” rather than a genuine care-taker kind of way.

You turn back and seat yourself on the stool again. “I’d apologize about that, but I love him far too much to feel bad about getting up mid-conversation to welcome him home.”

Mia smiles into her teacup but startles and almost spills it on herself when she hears you turn around and yell, “when you’re done bring a stool from the island and come sit with us.”

“Really?” Ethan deadpans.

“Yes, really. He’s very fond of you, did you know he-“ you’re interrupted by him plopping the metal stool he levitated over at the round table and him hastily sitting his ass down in it.

“So, how are the Winter’s doing?” He immediately turns to Rose. “And how’s little Rose doing too?”

Upon hearing his voice, Rose eye’s open, and she looks up at him, and reaches out her little hands. He reaches his freshly washed hand out and lets her grab his index finger. “I’d die for you, kiddo.” He has an uncharacteristically soft smile across his face. Rose giggles and the rest of his features visibly melt.

“Don’t tell her that too often,” Mia jokes, “she just might take that seriously and use you to do something devious.”

“Nothing she does will ever be devious, she’s far too sweet,” he says, “you have an angel in your arms, and not even the cruelest of hearts will change that.” And then he turns and continues to coo at the baby while you and the couple talk about various things.

Eventually, it’s time for them to go, and before they do, Karl practically runs to his workshop. “I have a new toy for your little dew-drop!”

“Dew-drop?” Ethan repeats softer.

“It’s his little nickname for the baby,” you clarify, “because her full name is Rosemary, and you can also call rosemary dew of the sea, and since she’s so small, dew-drop.”

Mia looks down at the baby. “That’s so cute-“

“And we are never calling her that.”

Karl is back, holding a small toy car, painted bright colors, not a sharp or small piece in sight. “I made her a toy car.” He approaches the couple and hands the toy car to Mia, who is holding the scones she came to pick up, while Ethan is holding the baby.

“We never have to buy her toys because you make them all.”

“That’s why I make them, so she knows each one is made with love.” He grins like a puppy that didn’t get caught for chewing the table leg. It’s almost disarming.

Ethan looks like he’s going to barf. You’d smack him if he wasn’t holding the baby. “Well, we’d best be heading out,” he says, and turns and opens the door without being prompted, “we have to walk Alcina.”

After the leave, Karl turns to you. “Alcina is a 9’6’’ tall woman, the only parts of the walk she’ll have issues with is going in and out the door. Fucking super-sized bitch,” he grumbles to himself, heading back to the kitchen to open the refrigerator door.

“Are you hungry?”

“No, just bored.” He closes the door again and wanders into your now open arms.

“You were out in the heat for a few hours, maybe you should take a nap.”

“And you were slaving away in that kitchen making that batch of soap for god-knows how long.”

“I’ve been working on that since five in the morning, so about six hours now.”

“We should both take a nap.” He’s already dragging you to the shared bedroom before you can complain.

“You’re sleeping at the foot of the bed, wolf-boy.”

He blatantly refuses, and instead makes himself comfortable, holding you to his chest like a stuffed animal. “I prefer holding you much more.” It’d be sweet if it weren’t so taboo to let him push you around like this.

“I own you, we both know this.”

“Sure you do,” he yawns, “you let me sleep in your bed, eat at the table with you, go grocery shopping with you-“

“I treat you like a person instead of property, I get it,” you grumble, “I love you, and clearly you’ve let that get to your head.”

He goes uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. “You love me.”

“Of course, I do, not quit talking before I kick you to your own bed.” He does, in fact, have his own bed, that he fits in just fine, that he’s used exactly once. It was his first night here, and he slept for three hours before crawling into yours after three hours because he had a nightmare. He’s never slept in it again. Bastard. But you never really blamed him, you rescued him and his siblings, and their owner was an absolute shithead.

“You’d never.” He places a kiss on the crown of your head. “You love me too much.”

“Weren’t you the one who suggested we nap together?”

“It was you.”

“Goddamn it.”

He squeezes around you tighter, and by the time you fall asleep, you feel his breathing in your ear. You spoil him far too much, to the point where people think you are lovers. Perhaps it’s because you wished you could be, sometimes. It’d be funny, to see how that’d play out. It’s not as taboo as it used to be, but still very much frowned upon. For good reason too. While he isn’t bound in servitude like familiars were long ago, like he was with his previous master, the power imbalance is much too large for you to feel comfortable with it.

He depended on your magic to stay alive, and while he could rely on the magic of the earth, it just wasn’t the same as a witch that cared about him as much as you did. His telekinesis was so much stronger since he moved in with you and got a sudden intense boost just recently.

It’s because you loved him.

Fuck.

[hargrove-mayfields]

for @magellan-88!

When Hawkins’ class of ‘85 graduated high school, Billy was the first to take off, halfway back to San Francisco before the caps even touched the ground.

Everyone gave hats off to him for being one of the few who’d ever make it out of the dying ghost town that was Hawkins, but as much as he hated that place and all its confines, he felt like he had left behind a lot.

The job wasn’t what he really wanted to do anyways, his house, when he was still staying there, was cramped, and after only a couple of months, the town had no sentimental value to him. The only thing he couldn’t help but feel bad about ditching, and that amounted to a whole lot of regret on his part, were the people.

Not the girls who swooned over him or the half made friendships he’d been neglecting since they formed anyways either, but he had his little sister, to whom he promised he’d drop everything and come back the second she said the word, and he also had Steve.

His relationship with Steve was a little blurrier, the two of them had gotten to the point of calling each other friends just after Christmas, best friends by the time Neil kicked Billy out for nothing but turning the big one-eight in april, and he was left crashing on the Harrington’s designer couch until he was free to leave Hawkins.

That’s where Steve would’ve ended the story at least, but as for Billy, he’d fallen ass over tits in love for his best friend in a matter of a smoldering gaze at a Halloween party.

Of all the many things he regrets about his short time in that cramped little town, he’d have to say the biggest was not having worked up the courage to fess up about his little crush before he skipped town to live it up more than two thousand miles away, mostly because that had been the only of his mistake he never took any time to resolve.

So it was that when Steve, apparently completely forgetting about the existence of time zones, calls him up at five in the morning to ask if he could come out to visit his new place in the golden state in a few weeks, Billy senses a pretty big opportunity.

What Steve had always done when Billy was staying at his place was cover the couch in the upstairs foyer, as he was made to call it, in layers of spare pillows and blankets, making it up like a bed for him. If he could, he would’ve let him have the guest bedroom, but that was out of the question when every other night that Steve’s parents were home, they argued and John had to take the spare.

But Billy doesn’t have a spare room, and he isn’t too sure about doing the same for Steve in his new apartment.

The problem isn’t that he can't, he has a brand new couch, bought from an actual furniture store instead of an old busted up one at thrift (or that he brought in off the curb and said was bought at thrift) and it’s even got a pull out to make things easier. He’d spent too many dozens of nights on Steve’s couch, staring up at the way high ceiling and wishing he had the guts to make a move, that he doesn’t think his yearning heart can take being just down the hall from him again, especially not with the promise that in a few weeks time, there’d be that vast, looming space between them again.

So he’s settled on it, Steve is going to sleep in his bed. He’s just gotta find a way to get him there, and that’s simple enough, he just has to pretend there’s nowhere else for him to sleep.

Now, he’ll admit that his plan on selling that idea is shaky at best, but Steve is bone tired when he gets there a few days later, his first time flying and dealing with jet lag taking everything he has out of him, so really, he’s looking to crash as soon as they get up to Billy’s apartment.

Only, he notices immediately that the couch isn’t set up like a bed like he usually would have done it up, and he looks to Billy with a slight tilt of his head, confusion in those big puppy-dog eyes.

So Billy answers, trying not to be too smug about it, “Sorry man, couch is out of the question.”

“Why?” Steve asks, then thinks better of it, knowing Billy’s history, “Actually, hold that thought, I don’t think I want to know.”

That makes Billy laugh, makes him remember why he fell in love with Steve in the first place too, “Nothing gross this time, s’just brand new. Can’t have you drooling all over the furniture that cost me two months of rent.”

“Right. So.. where am I going to sleep then?”

“I’ve got a bed, Steve.”

“Well duh, but I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”

“I didn’t say that. You’re not the only one with a queen sized now. I got room for two.”

“But.. is that going to be weird?” Steve asks, shifting on his feet, like the suggestion makes him uncomfortable, and Billy almost backs out then, lies about how he was just messing around to test Steve, but he sticks to his guns, saying, “Only if you make it weird. Don’t have much of a choice anyhow, unless you want to sleep in the bathtub.”

Steve insists on arguing though, “What’s wrong with sleeping on the floor?”

“Dude, this is a shitty ass apartment. I live here and I don’t even know half of the nasty shit that’s been on this floor.”

“Fine, just as long as I have a place to sleep.” Steve half-mumbles, cut off by a yawn, obviously too tired to keep pressing the issue.

He saunters off to Billy’s room not too long after that, not even changing out of his clothes before he’s throwing himself face down in his bed, leaving Billy to do his entire nighttime routine while Steve makes himself right at home, assuming that after brushing his teeth and putting his hair up, changing out of his jeans and triple checking that the doors and windows were locked tight, that’d be enough time for Steve to fall asleep.

That however, does not happen to be the case.

Billy knew from sleeping just down the hall from Steve’s bedroom that he snored like a motherfucker, and from the times he had fallen asleep on the basketball bus after a game that Steve never stopped moving in his sleep, but he was truly not prepared for how difficult it was for Steve to get to sleep in the first place.

He understands it, he remembers how hard it had been trying to relax in the silence that surrounded the country, and since that was all Steve was used to, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that the sounds of the city were hard for him to tune out and just sleep.

What he doesn’t understand is how Steve doesn’t wear himself out tossing and turning, and after at least an hour of it, Billy’s got to wonder if this is a princess and the pea type situation, some messed up spring in his mattress making this arrangement not proper for the royalty at his side.

Billy can tell he wants to talk, from the way he keeps feeling Steve’s eyes on his back, the tapping of his fingers against the headboard, which, if they got to talking he might not even need part two of his plan, but Steve doesn’t ever say anything just sighs with every chime on the clock, another hour he can’t get to sleep.

It isn’t until three in the morning rolls around that Steve finally conks out, Billy himself still barely awake enough to shoot his shot, draping himself over Steve and pulling him close before he has a chance to roll over onto his front again, falling asleep with his crush in his arms.

~~~~

The sun’s not up yet, and the clock’s too blurry to say exactly what time it is when Steve wakes up again, realizing after a few minutes that he’s hot as hell, and didn’t immediately start tossing and turning again, which, once he’s actually woken up enough to think, he discovers that the only reason that is is because Billy is pressed against his back, his arm thrown over his side, spooning him and basically keeping him held there in place.

Steve at first tries not to think about it, the whole, sleeping in the same bed as the person he deliberately never did that with to avoid facing his feeling, and just get comfortable with Billy all cuddled up to him, but he’s a front sleeper, and Billy is fucking hot in more ways than one, so when it’s evident that’s not going to work, he clears his throat, announcing into the silence, “You’re smotherin’ me, Bill.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath behind him, like Billy had just woken up, and a soft little hum of a question, “Hm?”

“You’re like, on top of me, man.” Steve informs him, like he didn’t notice he was half laying on him, but Billy answers bluntly, voice all tired and scratchy, “Don’t care.”

That sort of confuses Steve. He’d been expecting an apology, for Billy to roll over and them to pretend this never happened in the morning, and it’s got his mind, and his heart, racing a mile a minute, because Billy isn’t the only one with a helpless crush, there’s a reason Steve flew 2,000 miles just to see him.

So he asks, before he can lead himself on, “Just to be clear, is this an accidental thing that only isn’t awkward because we’re friends or is this like, meaningful?”

Billy just hums, pulling him even closer, making Steve feel small, “Go to sleep, Steven.”

“Okay.” He tries to, shoving his arm under the pillows and shifting under Billy’s weight so he’d be comfortable enough, but it’s just nagging at his lovesick brain, “But seriously man, I don’t know what I should take away from this.”

Billy sighs softly, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, maybe because he was tired, maybe because Steve was being Steve, “Look, you’re in my bed, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, because of the couch, I thought you were just a cuddler or something.”

“Nope. This was all by design.”

“So then the couch..”

“Was perfectly fine, yeah. Damn thing even has a fold out.”

“You did this on purpose?”

“Thought I made that pretty obvious.”

Steve pouts, sitting up so Billy has to let go of him, “Well if you’re so annoyed with me, I’ll just leave you to get back to sleep.”

“Oh no. It’s much too late for that. I’m thinking we’re going to have to find another way to spend the time now. And, well, since you’re already here...”

[basicjetsetter]

Part II

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death, Depression, Triggering Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt

▹ Words: 3k

▹ A/N: ATTENTION! This is an emotionally heavy part. Please DO NOT READ if you know you will be affected. For those struggling with depression, I see you, I care for you, and I love you. You’re not alone and you are undeniably worthy of love.

-Five Years and Twenty Nine Days Later-

You don’t want to get up.

Your phone’s alarm clock is rounding on its tenth circuit, if your counting is correct… and there’s a good chance you blanked out for fifteen minutes while watching a strip of sunlight lethargically inch down your blanket to the foot of the bed, so your number may be off by six or seven.

It’s not that you’re tired or anything, or maybe you are and that’s beside the point. It’s just that your bed is far too comfortable for your own good and you know today is Saturday, the busiest day at Hal’s Diner, and it just so happens you’re scheduled for an 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. brunch rush. If you had a choice, you’d stay in bed.

But you don’t. And you’re running twenty minutes late… for the fourth time in two weeks.

I’ve got you.

Shut the fuck up.

You wearily snarl, snatching your pillow out from under your head and slamming it against your face, uselessly stuffing it over your ears as if that would somehow miraculously block out the words. 

Usually, the voice stayed quiet. After three years of the repeated promise drifting around your brain like a lost ship at sea, you had finally figured out how to anchor it to the deepest, darkest, most unchartered recess of your mind. Every now and then, though, they’d find a way to rattle the chains, just to remind you of their eternal presence, but it never lasted long. You didn’t acknowledge them anymore. They no longer fooled you.

But, twenty-nine days ago, something reinvigorated the voice, giving them a renewed sense of purpose and a reason to break free.

Twenty-nine days ago, on the exact anniversary of their disappearance, everyone came back. 

Out of the blue, in the middle of the day, all of the people Earth mourned for five years reappeared to a very, very stunned world. Celebration rocked the streets of New York and all over the globe. Lovers lost returned. Mothers. Fathers. Sisters. Brothers. Babies. Friends. They all came back. And the voice in your head broke free of its chains, rampantly bouncing around your mind as if they were on pure steroids, ready to charge forward and find the one your Destined Words belonged to. 

Everything reverted back to normal.

Except, besides your newly released Destined Words, nothing changed for you.

You weren’t there when… when your best friend rematerialized in your previous apartment. You moved to a smaller, modestly priced place six blocks away. It was great for what little money you had, and your landlords, a lovely couple that always leaves you a present outside your door for Christmas and birthdays, were generous enough to accommodate for your lack of funds.

You just couldn’t keep your parents’ apartment. Not when you knew they weren’t coming back. 

No one ever speaks about the casualties of the ones lost that day, the ones who perished from the effects of the blip. For a long time, you just couldn’t cope with the fact that a swerving hit from a rogue truck whose driver turned to dust was all it took to take your parents away. But you had to move on.

Ever since that day five years ago, you’ve been on your own.

You’re sure your friend tried looking for you by now, continually calling up a retired cellphone number, searching through deleted social media accounts, maybe even asking your old high school for your whereabouts to no avail. Even though you’re not far from home, she’d never find you. 

You don’t want to be found. You like being alone.

With a great, gusty sigh, you roll out of bed, grab some clothes and undergarments, then pad to the bathroom, ignoring the chiming circuit of your alarm clock. It can wait. You go through the motions: washing up, putting your hair in its regular bun, brushing your teeth, and staring at your unaged face in the spotted mirror.

It’s not vanity, though it’s common knowledge that your features will be impervious to aging for a long while. You literally haven’t aged a single day since the blip.

It was an intriguing phenomenon after the first two years. Everyone your age who had heard their Destined Words but had yet to meet their Soulmate just stopped aging, and when the younger generation hit the age of eighteen, they stopped aging as well. For some, like you, the effect was felt rather than seen. Ever since the string inside you snapped, you knew that cosmic time would stand still until you connected with your other soul. You’re not holding your breath for that anytime soon.

As you step out of the steam-filled bathroom, your alarm blares out its last chime before switching to the Vmm Vmm Vmm of an incoming call.

You pick up on the sixth ring. “Good morning, Hal.”

“This is the fourth—”

“The fourth time. I know, I know. I’m on my way.”

Hal grunts into the receiver, “Don’t get smart with me, little lady. Just because you’re my best server doesn’t mean I won’t fire you.”

That’s precisely what that means, and he knows you know it. You blow out a sigh, “I’m seriously almost out the door. Like two steps.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, a hint of a grin in his quizzical noise. “Well, hightail it, would’ya? The joint’s packed already and I need all hands on deck, so scoot.”

“Scooting,” you confirm, snagging your bag off of your sofa and grabbing your keys. “Who’s with me today?” Please don’t say Wendy. Please don’t say Wendy.

“Chris and Wendy.”

You groan as you shut the door behind you. “Come on, Hal. She’s dead weight in the morning. I might as well be working with a zombie in an apron.”

Hal grumps, “At least the zombie gets here on time.”

“Have you had coffee yet? You’re not you when you’re decaffeinated.” It’s true. Even with your truancy, Hal wouldn’t hold it over your head more than twice. He’s usually as chipper as a dog in a dog park at this time, bustling and joking up a storm.

He takes a loud sip, then says, “We’re slammed, is all, and I’m missing my best hand.” Two disgruntled heys ring in the background and Hal immediately issues apologies. “Just get here, will ya?”

Before you can remind him again that you are on your way, he disconnects the call.

You’re wondering if it’s too late to go back to bed.

The little, infamous family diner is only seven blocks south of your apartment building, a nice walk when the weather’s good and a pain in the ass when it’s not. You used to enjoy the quiet mornings and the stillness that came with it, but ever since things went back to normal, you can’t survive the walk without a pair of headphones jammed in your ears and your music’s volume turned all the way up. Everyone’s just so… loud.

Thankfully, today, the walk is a straight shot and you’re in the doors within fifteen minutes.

It’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals. Worse, it’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals and being stuck with the task of serving them.

“Look who’s finally decided to show up,” Wendy chides, stifling a yawn as she shuffles to a table and places down three menus. She’s twenty-two years old and likes setting your teeth on edge.

You deadpan, “Did the cat drag you in from the front door or the back?”

“Knock it off, you two,” warns Chris, walking by with two arms balancing four plates of the Sunrise Breakfast Special. He looks at you, then jerks his chin back to the kitchen. “Boss is about to blow his top.”

Nodding, you make your way to the back, giving a small wave to some regulars. Out of breath and sweat running down his reddened neck, Hal is moving like a man caught in a whirlwind, flipping eggs and pancakes and sausages and hash browns and bacon while checking orders and filling plates. As soon as he hears the kitchen door close and sees you, he visibly sags in relief.

“Don’t bother clocking in. Just put your apron on and get out there.”

You nod. Set down your things. Put on your apron. Arrange a plastic smile.

Go through the motions.

It’s all the same thing every single day. Wake up, work, school, sleep. Repeat. Unlike the other constants, school is something you’re temporarily trying out. It wasn’t your original plan, the whole four years to a bachelor’s degree, then some more years for a master’s. You gave that up long ago. Right now, you’re just taking a free weekend art class at a community college. Oddly enough, it’s something you’re beginning to look forward to on Saturdays and Sundays.

Work, while you’re great at what you do, is never a highlight. 

Hal was right. The diner is slammed, and you’re swept up in the current of rude, demanding customers, snide remarks from Wendy, cheerful shrugs from Chris, and barking orders from Hal for six whole hours. You work through your two fifteen-minute breaks. No one reminds you. You slip on spilled hash browns. No one helps you. You bring back a plate three times to satisfy a customer who kept finding fault with their eggs. No one thanks you.

Everything is back to normal.

I’ve got you.

“Fuck off,” you snap, slapping a hand to your mouth when you see the elderly woman you’re serving knit her brows in revulsion. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m-I’m sorry, I was—”

She stands and marches out of the diner before you could explain, snatching her ten-dollar tip off the table.

“… talking to myself,” you finish under your breath.

She’s the last of the brunch rush, leaving only the regular afternoon crowd and a few stragglers. The clock near the cash register reads 2:13 p.m.

You brush off the disappointment of a lost tip and head to the kitchen to grab your things and leave, Chris and Wendy following you. Hal’s two other workers, the ones here till closing, cover the floor well. Not like they had much to do.

Hal is whistling a jaunty tune when you walk in, stopping to salute you, Chris, and Wendy with an exhausted grin. “Nice work out there, you guys. See you tomorrow.”

Wendy is out the door the instant she clocks out.

Chris catches your arm as you grab your bag from your small locker. “Hey, um, I sort of heard your little outburst, and I was wondering if you were okay.”

You nod, gently shrugging his hand off. “Yeah, it’s just a tip. I made enough.”

“No, not that,” he shakes his head, clearing his throat and pushing a hand through his choppy beach-blond hair. He ineptly bends his head down a little, getting close enough for a private conversation you do not want to have. “It’s just… you’ve done that before and I just want to make sure everything’s alright with you.”

You can’t put the plastic smile back on, he’s seen it too many times to know it’s not real, so you half-heartedly grin. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, anytime. Hey, so, me and a couple friends are hanging out tonight. There’s gonna be a music festival in Cunningham Park. Wanna hang?”

Chris tries this every week. At first, you thought it was his bashful attempt at asking you out, but he’s a happily taken man with a big heart and a lot of friends. Every customer he meets, boom, they’re friends and soon loyal customers of Hal’s. It’s a gift. You just wish he caught your not-so-subtle hints of evasion.

Tonight, though, you had the perfect excuse. “Can’t. I got class.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “On a Saturday night?”

“Yeah. It’s a free course. Get it where I can take it, you know,” you awkwardly laugh, hoping Chris wasn’t offended as you take a couple of steps back towards the exit.

His smile doesn’t falter. “Maybe next time, then.”

Not likely. “Sure, yeah. See you later.”

You duck out before he says goodbye, dashing out the front door and speed-walking home.

I’ve got you.

I’ve got you.

I’ve got you.

You stop dead in the middle of a sidewalk.

Where did that come from? It’s never said it three times in a row before. Does… does that mean something?

Your breath quickens at the thought, and you spin around, scanning the vacant street. You’re the only one occupying the sidewalk, you and a curious squirrel sniffing at the crisp air. There’s not a person in sight. When you’re certain you’re in the clear, pivoting a glance around one more time for good measure, you pick up the pace, practically running the rest of the way home.

Once you’re in your apartment and the door shuts, you desperately whisper to your mind, “Don’t say it anymore. I don’t want them, okay? I don’t want a Soulmate.”

Nothing.

“I know you hear me,” you bite out aloud, forcefully shoving back the urge to yell. “Stop saying the words.”

Still nothing.

Silence rings hollow in your mind like the voice is waiting for your temper to cool down. Like it knew it upset you and felt chastened enough to back off and take a time out in a corner.

You stand immobile in the middle of your cramped sitting area. Tense. Waiting. Waiting longer than you care to admit. The urge to fight deserts you as quick as it comes, but you’re still standing there with your fists balled up, feeling more and more defeated as the minutes drain away.

The voice isn’t going to leave you alone. You know that. It’s here to serve one purpose, and the only thing holding it up is you. You’re meant to meet whoever those words belong to… but then what? They magically fix you? They love you back to normal? Five years ago, you may have believed they can do that. But, the problem is, you’ve gone through enough life-altering events in the last five years to last you a lifetime, and this one person, this person destined to pair with your soul, won’t be your wave-of-a-wand solution.

You just want it to stop.

I’ve got you.

A lone tear slides down your cheek as you trek to your bed and climb in fully clothed.

For a long time, you simply stare up at the ceiling as the tears leak out the corners of your eyes. You make no noise, and your chest doesn’t jerk up and down with sobs. The tears gather, and then they fall. Gather and fall. Gather and fall until there are no tears left. You continue staring at the ceiling.

You think back to the days when those godforsaken words and the future they foretold brought you happiness. What a wonderful promise, pairing with someone who will always be there for you in some capacity and will instantly love you. You can’t recall any Soulmate story not working out. Maybe they just never speak about it. Why mar the fantasy?

The sun dipped below the horizon a while ago, and now the moon shines bright in the night sky. You missed your art class.

Your body is as stiff as a board when you sit up. There’s a tight pounding in your forehead, either from crying or lack of food, but you aren’t bothered enough to deal with it. Instead, you move to the only window in your room and pull back the curtains to gaze at the stars. Not many are out yet, but they glitter like gems around the moon, and the night sky nears a lovely shade of midnight blue.

The sight is so pretty; you find yourself grabbing a couple of paint bottles, brushes, and a small canvass, then heading out of your apartment, walking up six flights of stairs to reach the roof.

It’s quiet when you get up there, save for the noise of zooming cars below. The first time you came up on the roof, just out of curiosity, you loved how solitary it felt, loved the view overlooking the building-strewn skyline and the overall height of the complex. It became a nice place to visit when you wanted to be by yourself.

You walk over to the edge of the building, sitting your supplies down on the ledge, then look up at the sky for the best angle to capture the moon and the stars.

The sky is vast. So endless. So open. So free. You stop scoping out for the perfect angle and just admire the shining moon when your eyes land on it. It’s waning, only a sliver of its surface visible as it prepares to transition into a New Moon. Then you gaze at the stars as they dimly twinkle back at you… like they can see right through you.

Like they can see your sadness.

You step closer to the ledge, each step laden with the weight of smothered grief. You lost everyone. Your parents. Manda. She’d never recognize the person you’ve become.

You step onto the ledge, not looking down but up, trying to memorize the image.

You lost your Soulmate. That broken string in your chest never felt the same, even after everyone came back. Maybe you were too far gone for any connection.

You turn around. You’d thought you’d feel numb, but acceptance fills you. It’s okay to let go.

You lower your eyes, slowly lean back, and let gravity take over.

Air sails past your ears in a rush as you fall, and you can’t really focus on anything except your erratic heartbeat. You don’t struggle as your body wants. You just fall and wait.

And then, in a sudden flash of red and blue, you’re propelling sideways and swinging upwards, a strong arm pressing you against a hard chest.

“I’ve got you.”

As soon as he said the words, you knew who they belonged to, as if you knew this entire time. Even with the mask covering his face, you knew. But it still doesn’t stop you from incredulously saying, “Peter?”

His masked face snaps to yours. A small part of you tries to pin his surprise on you correctly guessing his identity, but something bigger assures you the reason for his alarm is a match to your own.

He knows you’re his Soulmate.

...

Part III

[redmaneroster]

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [4-5] [6] [7] [8-9] [x]

PART 10 – Domestication

Yang blinks awake. She wonders why her pillow is so dense until she realizes that she's patting down Jaune's chest. Her hand is dangerously close to his waistband.

She wants to move but can't. Below her, her hands run through the threads of someone's dark red hair. Ruby wriggles at the touch. She'd come back a week earlier. In time for the dance but she'll be gone again when it's over.

It's like her baby sister is slipping out of her hands. She wants to scream and shout. To demand that Ozpin give her back… but he wasn't the one who could make that decision for her. Her dad had made it clear, Ruby is the only one who gets to choose, and she chose Ozpin.

She dreads to think on what Ruby's actually chosen. What she'd picked over everything else. Her friends, her family, her team, maybe even her dreams of being a huntress.

Yang bites her lip. Ruby isn't a huntress-in-training anymore either. She's licensed and fully-fledged. Has jobs and is on record as the youngest to join an academy and the youngest to graduate.

Peeling back her bangs, Yang spots the scar running along her forehead. It's deep and an ugly pinkish-red. Jaune asked where she got it. She'd gotten too close to a behemoth and got clipped trying to dodge its tusk. She'd killed it, somehow. She wouldn't tell how, just that she did. If she really tried, Yang could probably extract the story from her; global secrecy or no. But she can't. Won't.

Suddenly respecting her privacy feels like a vice on her lungs.

Ruby grabs Yang's hand suddenly. She's still and her breathing is rapidly pouring out of her, but then Ruby tugs the arm into her chest and nuzzles into it.

It's like they're eight and ten again, when Yang would spend the day working herself to exhaustion to make sure Ruby had a fulfilling day, only to collapse in her arms. Then and only then did Yang permit her little ten-year-old self to breathe, rest easy, then finally sleep. She recollects it like a blur of sweat and aches she was entirely too young to have, but now that they've passed, Yang can hardly remember what any of those pains felt like.

How differently could things have gone if she'd had a father and mother to tend to them instead. Maybe not long enough to mind Ruby themselves, but at least long enough to rub her hair and tell her she did good at the end of the day.

Calloused hands run through her hair. She looks up to see Jaune spying her out of one eye.

"You're getting that scary, thoughtful look on you again." Not quite the loving encouragement she'd expected, but close enough. "I'd warn against developing some early wrinkles but I can't help but feel they'd look good on you too."

She laughs. "You can't be serious. Were you checking out my mom?"

"Pfft! Sure. Let's go with that." She rolls her eyes. He ruffles her hair. "But in all seriousness, you can't blame a guy for admiring that kind of craftsmanship." His thumb runs slowly down her cheek. "They chiseled you out good. You have all their best parts."

She blushes but pushes the feeling down. "God, Jaune, were you checking out my dad too?" she teases but her eyes widen at his brief pause. "Oh my god."

He waves it off. "It's nothing like that. Despite looking like he could bench-press a truck, your dad still manages to look the least threatening when he's got some alcohol in him. I had thought that the day I'd meet my girlfriend's dad, I'd be most worried about being hated. Instead, I ended up worrying I'd just disappoint him. Like making him sad was worse than getting him angry."

"Yeah, Dad's got a wounded puppy look on him. I think it's why Zwei listens to him all the time. Like he even makes the dog feel responsible for keeping him happy."

"He's a dangerous man."

"I hope the title is hereditary."

"Ha! What was that you said on our first date? You could total a car, or something? I think that qualifies as dangerous."

"Hm… Is that a turn on or does that make you afraid? Both, maybe?"

"I think I'd qualify as crazy if it was both. Do you qualify as crazy if you're still into me after that?"

"We could be crazy together." Her fingers run circles over his abs. "I could live with that…"

Ruby curls up and covers her ears. "Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross!"

Yang ruffles her hair. "Good morning to you, too,"

"Sleep well?" Jaune asks.

"Too well…" Ruby grumbles. "I don't think I could go back to pillows ever again. Maybe I'll sleep on Zwei or something… No, that doesn't feel right…"

Yang pulls her head up, inching enough along Jaune's chest to rest her head up against his chin. "I think it's the company. Missed your big sister that much, huh?"

Ruby's nose scrunches. "Yeah, I do." She crawls into them and snuggles in. She takes Jaune's hand and tugs on Yang's till they're hugging her now. "I'll miss you all so much when I'm gone…"

The way she words that digs a pit in Yang's chest. She squeezes her a little tighter. Her chest feels hollow for a little longer.

Ruby pulls out and Yang lets her go, but she jerks back a bit cause Jaune hasn't let go. "Sorry…" Jaune says. He looks like he wants to hold on.

"Don't be." The softness of her hands press warmly over his, and her smile shares its qualities. "I'd miss me too." She means it like a joke but it stops showing on her eyes and a frown worms its way into her cheeks. "I have to go get ready."

She glances over to the rest of the bed. Only Blake is there, her back turned to them. "Pyrrha's probably waiting for me downstairs. I'll see you two tonight, alright?" When she's pulling fresh clothes out of her travel bag, she calls out, "If Blake gets up, tell her we'll see her on the bullheads and grab a bite in Vale if she's late!"

JNPR's bathroom door shuts behind her. The door feels tiny from where they are, on the opposite side of a giant bed in the RWBY dorm room. Its distance echoes with the thrum of the muffled shower.

Jaune pulls Yang up and against him. "Sorry about this. I know you were looking forward to going with me."

"You shouldn't have to feel sorry for giving my sister a good time," she says. He can tell that she means it. "She's going to miss you too, and this might be her last chance to feel like a normal girl for a change. Besides, it's only sophomore year. We'll still have plenty of school dances to go to."

"I guess… Save me a dance?"

"I think I'll need a little more than one."

The distant pattering of the shower is notable when it stops in the quiet of the twin rooms. Jaune eyes Blake and realizes that her bow is on. "Didn't Blake stop wearing that?"

Yang shifts over his stomach and realizes how broad her outline is. "I don't think that's her."

They share a look before poking her in the head.

Ren groans and swats his hand away. He wiggles out and takes off the wig he's wearing, scratching his head.

They snort. "That's a good look for you," they say, realize they've said it at the same time, and high-five.

He groans again. "That's never not going to be weird."

"Not as weird as you in a wig," Jaune says.

Yang notices he's in Blake's pajama top too, sagging off his shoulder since it's so much smaller. "…Or in her nighties."

"It's called a jinbei." Ren shakes his head. "Before you ask, I lost a bet."

Jaune shrugs. "We figured. Not like we expected you to wear that for fun or anything."

He pulls on the delicate fabric. "Aside from the wig, it's very comfortable."

"Oh, I'll bet."

Ren rubs his eyes. "Jaune…"

He throws his hands up. "I'm kidding! … Not really. You want one in your size?"

"…Yes." He blushes which is weird cause Ren doesn't blush. But he does and it's adorable. They snap a picture. He can only summon the energy to scowl for a breath's length. "I should get going too."

"Why are you up so late anyhow?"

He blushes and he doesn't bother answering. They don't need one anyway.

-0-

The echoed bass of this year's dance bounces off the walls of the hallway just outside of reception.

Yang hasn't been on a dance floor in months and now the sounds feel alien. She used to attribute clubbing as a part of her, even as a freshman who could pass for eighteen. Breaking it down, it's clear that she only went out there to have fun. And she's been having a lot of fun elsewhere this year.

"I don't really wanna go in there," Oscar says beside her as they make their way to reception. They're both wearing green, to match hues with her eyes and to contrast his. "I'm starting to get dizzy on just the sounds of it."

"You get used to it," she says. "It's mostly just sensory overload. Just let it sink in and you'll hardly even register the music. It's meant to be white noise anyway so no one has to talk in silence."

"So it's, what, a social tool? Like a distraction?"

"Most of partying is. For all the awkward folks, it means they can hide behind something else while they get their wings. For the rest of us, the ones who've got it down, it lets us keep going. Longer than the night sometimes."

"I never thought of it that way."

She pats him on the shoulder. Even in flats, she's so much taller than him. "Try not internalize it too hard. It's easier when you're letting a conversation happen instead of trying to force any advice you hear into it."

"And if I end up in awkward silence with someone?"

"Then maybe you aren't talking to the right people. Take Ruby for instance." She points ahead of them, at Jaune and Ruby dressed in red together. They're talking and laughing. "You ever have a conversation just stop when you talk to her?"

"Yeah."

"Then she isn't the right people." She catches Ruby's glare but she goes back to Jaune pretty quickly.

"Uh… Oh! You're joking!" Oscar exclaims.

"Whoa! Hey! Don't take me seriously all the time. Half of me is comedy."

"It's often bad!" Jaune calls back.

"Shut up!" Yang giggles. "I have the worst boyfriend," she whispers loudly. Jaune pretends to be wounded by it.

"So…" Oscar rolls his hands. "I'm getting mixed signals here. Is it okay to have awkward silence?"

"Yeah! I mean… I guess had a bad example. It's okay if a conversation stops, but not when it drops."

He squints. "I feel like you're deliberately confusing me."

"I'm just not the most articulate person. Not like I learned to be social on a quotable handbook or anything. So when you talk to someone on something you're interested in, like, say, coffee –"

"-Or milk."

"Or milk. Yeah, let's got with that. Say you like skim milk – you monster –" he laughs cause he does, "then you know you've found someone you can talk to if they don't try to derail the conversation once they find out."

"Cause I brought up skim milk?"

"Cause they're still interested in talking even after you mention it. Someone you can talk to might agree and keep at it, or disagree but wants to hear your side of why you like it so much. Someone you can't talk to will try to change the topic after finding out what you like or not about something."

"I thought it was all about finding things in common."

"I think it's just as interesting if you don't. I hate Seven Rapids cause they're all noise and not even music to me, but that's precisely why Jaune loves them. Jaune and his sister used to be afraid of thunder, so when a storm hit their hometown, it was the only band they could listen to on the same pair of earphones without having to block out the other ear with something."

"That doesn't sound like he particularly likes it either."

"But it's a story I wouldn't have heard otherwise if I switched gears! Now we know each other a little better."

The bass thumps in their ears after they sign on in the registry and come through the doors. Blake is already dancing with Penny, Sun and Pyrrha are expectedly missing, and Nora is a having a subdued moment with Ren by the punch bowl.

"Ruby?" They're instantly stopped by Cardin Winchester of all things. His date, Velvet, trails behind him and crashes into Ruby first.

"You're back!" Velvet cheers. "For how long?"

"Not very," she says sheepishly.

"That big a deal, huh?" Cardin guesses. He continues before she can get uncomfortable. "We missed you at Leadership. Jaune cried."

Jaune rolls his eyes and lets it be… For an entire second. He punches Cardin in the arm and they laugh.

"I missed you guys too. Even the class. Ugh! Can you believe I miss waking up early for class?"

"I miss that feeling too," Velvet agrees. "When you're Juniors and Seniors, you lose half your classes and you're not even expected to attend most of your sessions. We're usually out on the field taking low threat missions. Even a noisy classroom is quieter than the woods."

Ruby rubs the back of her head. "I kind of know what that's like now, actually."

Jaune and Yang trade looks. Oscar tries not to look them in the eyes.

"We should get going," Cardin says, reading the room. "We'll catch up later." Velvet takes him by the arm and waves off.

Ruby, like Oscar, doesn't look them in the eyes either.

"It's okay!" Yang says soothingly, her a voice a titter with a laugh. "We won't pry. Just happy you're here."

"C'mon," Jaune says, taking Ruby's hand, "let's see how well Oscar taught you how to dance."

Ruby slaps a hand to her lips, trying feebly to hide her blush. "The punch bowl first, please. If it's spiked, I can pretend to be good at anything."

"Not a chance," Jaune teases. He kisses Yang on the cheek before leaving her with Oscar.

"He really is the worst," Oscar says, sarcasm bleeding off his cheek. "He's so sickeningly sweet. Wanna trade dates? I'd take him."

Yang slaps him on the back. "Ha! That's the spirit. I can see you're getting more comfortable."

Oscar shrugs. "I think you're just easy to talk to. We should go, too. I'm starving."

-0-

Ruby might have been right about the punch. Nora is loud and all over the place, but Oscar remembers a few stories about her and asks, "Is this how she normally is?"

Ren laughs, it's quiet and patient. He sounds older than he looks. "I don't think she qualifies for normal."

Nora crashes into a few people he doesn't recognize but they laugh and stand her up. They're all friends here. Or maybe Nora just has that effect on people.

"Here." Ren is standing in front of him with a plate of sushi, a black dip of some sort, and what looks like green clay. "Try one of these."

"You ever have these in Mistral?" Yang asks.

"Only the cities. Funny how my first time with it will be in Vale of all places."

Ren demonstrates with chopsticks, expertly grabbing the rolled sushi, dipping, then grabbing a dab of the clay before inserting it into his mouth. "Now you try."

Oscar takes a fork, stabs the sushi, dips it, end curves the fork's teeth into the clay-like thing, and shoves it in his mouth. He can only register Ren's panic when it's already too late.

"You took too much wasabi," he breathes.

Yang is already grabbing a cup from the punch bowl. Oscar's mouth explodes in heat. Then the rest of the night is a blur.

-0-

Ruby was right. Someone did spike the punch.

By now it's too late and they devolve into a flurry of laughter and dancing. No one seems to care that there's suddenly alcohol present, but a cursory glance reveals that the staff isn't even present. Coco does mention seeing Ozpin and Glynda alone in the plaza, and much of the staff was huddling in the dark trying to eavesdrop on them. Seems mischief is ageless.

Jaune and Yang don't dance. Ruby is too important for them to let the night be about them, so they dance with her instead. She's at least thankful that Jaune chose to lead her in a slow dance. She doesn't think she can keep up with him otherwise. Yang, on the other hand, is an expert on matching her pace. She's her big sister after all.

Oscar doesn't get to dance with her either but he's fine with that. What he isn't fine with is being completely hammered by one watered-down drink. Yang thinks its funny how similar he is to Jaune but the similarities end there. He gets swung around by Nora on the dance floor and the alcohol doesn't help.

Remembering this night mostly comes out as a thousand flashes. Their scrolls roll the whole night, and the photos flood the memory banks like they'll struggle to remember this night when it's over. Which doesn't happen because the alcohol doesn't make them drunk. Unlike Oscar, all the alcohol just serves as an excuse for everyone else to let loose.

Joan shows up in a dress and everyone has flashbacks of first year. Ruby jokes loudly about Jaune filling the dress out real well this time and most people momentarily forget that Jaune has a twin sister.

Somewhere down the line, they pour out of the dance and sing off-key in the garden, count stars in the courtyard, and then they're out on the roof where half their class has turned up for a grill off.

Jaune and Nora get so into it that they're scared out of themselves when Cardin shows up in an apron and a grill of his own. Yang remarks that Weiss would have loved the smell.

Oscar kisses Penny and Ruby doesn't know what to do with that. Yang lets her figure it out cause she's growing up and she can ask her whenever she's ready.

Nora's corsage gets caught in the wind somehow and Ruby jumps into action. She weaves through the crowd in a stream of red and rose petals. She's over the railing and she shows no fear as she leaps off the edge and curls over the shattered moon with the pink flower in her hands. Her smile is stunning, her confidence brimming off her cheeks.

Jaune and Yang hold hands at the sight. She's a burst of beauty that steals hearts.

There's a cheer when she effortlessly blurs back and falls into the crowd. She doesn't think what she does is anything special, but it is. She is. And everyone knows it.

And just when their spirits are highest, it rains.

Ruby doesn't leave the roof when it does. Her friends stay with her, Jaune and Yang especially. The look in her eyes tells them that she's barely holding something back.

They stand with her, letting the chipped pieces of them fall apart together so Ruby doesn't feel like she's alone. She tells them she's afraid. They tell her they are too. But fear doesn't get to take residence, it doesn't get to loiter and sink into the upholstery. They'll kick and scream until it's gone cause they never go down without a fight.

It sounds like they're all struggling blindly, but Yang tells her that defiance is only the first step. And that also makes it the most important.

In a moment of solidarity, Ruby screams at the top of her lungs as the rain hides her tears and her friends drown out her pain with defiant roars of their own.

And in the next she's on a bullhead, barely out of her dress, and she disappears in a sea of stars.

-0-

It's the weekend again, and Yang convinces Jaune to come to the apartment for the day. Walking back into it feels like a lifetime has passed him by. There's a layer of dust on everything and he resists the urge to wipe it all down. He can't spend the one day they're here this month cleaning. Maybe next month when he's got the lien to cover his half of the rent.

No, that's an excuse. He could just as easily ask for an advance on his allowance or pick up an extra mission to cover the gap. He wanted to push them both to stay in the dorm, but when Yang pushes passed him with a box full of last night's freshly developed photos, he can see the forced curl of her cheek that's just a little too wide.

Ruby's been again for a week. She might not come back. Yang needs a breather to reconcile with that.

She plops the box down on the coffee table as Jaune sorts out their dinner across the room in the kitchenette.

"Anything good?" he asks.

She waves a photo in the air. "You in a dress!"

"Ha, well… Wait, no, I didn't do that this year! That's Joan!"

"Pfft! Not when I post it and tag you. I expect continued confusion from the campus."

"Yang…"

"C'mon, it's funny!"

He tosses an orange in a basket and reminds himself to eat it later. It's not gonna stay ripe if they leave it behind. In his head, it suddenly sounds like a shitty metaphor. "You're allowed to be sad about Ruby leaving, y'know?"

She chuckles and whips back to him. "So are you."

He doesn't know how to answer that. He spent a lot of that night dreading her leaving but he hadn't expected her to up and go before midnight even hit. It's still jarring, unreal even. Like he could walk back onto campus and bump into her, cause that night was a blur and he might have just dreamt it ending the way it did.

A hip bumps into his, and he drops the pork chops back onto the counter. Yang doesn't look sorry but she hides her face in his chest and he lets her hold onto him.

"It feels like I'm still halfway down a landslide. With my parents and uncle are off to god-knows-where, and Weiss and Neptune fighting for the soul of her company, it felt inevitable that Ruby would just… follow after. And it's a little scary, y'know? I don't know when all of this stops. I don't know if I'm gonna keep losing people." She doesn't cry, but her chest feels tight. "It's like I'm either waiting to see who's next or if I'm gonna crash when I hit the bottom…"

She'd been putting up a strong front, but her bravado feels like it's slipping, and she already feels like it's going to break her. Finding JNPR had stemmed the tide. She even thought she might stop slipping altogether but then Ruby comes and just goes into the night…

Jaune's pulls out his scroll and she can hear him clicking. She only then realizes that his other hand is squeezing carefully on her waist.

"What are you doing?"

"Finding people."

"What? Who?"

He brings the scroll close to his face. There's a call and it goes through almost immediately. It's a voice she doesn't recognize but she can guess who it is. She's already familiar with the stories about her.

"Hey, runt!" comes a woman's voice. "Caught me at a good time. Coral's burning the eggs again and she could use a few pointers from her big brother." Yang can practically feel her wink.

"It's nice to see you too, Sable. You're the eldest in the house now, don't you know how to cook it?"

There's a snort on the other end of the line. "Please. Wouldn't know my way around the kitchen unless I crashed a car into it. And even then I'd only familiarize myself with the quickest exit."

Jaune groans. "You can't keep getting take-out and engorging everything your pit crew gets you. One of these days you're gonna regret never learning from mom. At least Coral's trying."

"Well, Coral doesn't have a job."

"Hey, I totally have a job!" a muffled voice shouts.

"And besides, the track keeps me busy."

Yang mumbles into Jaune's chest. "That sounds like an excuse to me…"

Jaune laughs.

"Jaune… who was that?"

"She's the reason why I called you in the first place." He's already propping his scroll up against a bundle of uneven loaf.

"Ooh! Do we finally get to meet this elusive girlfriend of yours?"

Yang sucks in a breath. It feels like she's stepped into a different space altogether and she's nervous now for very different reasons.

"Girls, this is Yang."

"Hi there." Yang hopes she doesn't sound awkward.

On the screen is a set of huddled blondes all crashing to get a view through the screen. In the middle is the cheeky one she guesses is Sable. Unlike her sisters, her hair is red fading into blonde tied in a braid over her shoulder. "Hey yourself. I'm Sable. I heard you're good with bikes. We should talk. Grease monkey to grease monkey."

Another blonde in a bob cut and glasses pushes into her cheek. "God… hi. You're so pretty. Are you sure you're a huntress? Jaune, please don't let this be a prank." She seems all over the place.

"That's Coral," Jaune supplies. "Don't mind her. She'll make proper sentences when she starts calming down."

A dark-skinned girl with dirty blonde hair is pushed into view. Yang remembers Jaune mentioning having an adopted sister with dirty blonde hair. The dark hues accent her and it's all the more stunning when some of the white strands she has makes it clear that all that hair natural. "Ahem, I'm Dahlia," she says with the tiniest smile. She looks fourteen but she doesn't sound it.

She tilts her head to the side revealing another fourteen-year-old hiding behind her. "And this is Liona."

"Uhm!" Liona nearly screams, "H-hi!"

"Is she alright?" Yang asks.

Sable waves it off. "Oh, it's nothing really. She's just -"

"See?!" Liona points at the screen, looking at the other girls. "It's another blonde! The curse is real!" And she's gone.

Dahlia sighs and gets up. "I'll go after her. It was nice meeting you, Yang."

"She's polite."

Sable shrugs. "Grew up in a strict house. We're still trying to shake it out of her but enough about that, why don't you tell us how you got all that hair to behave? Mine spazzes out if I don't tie it down and there's only so many ways to tie long hair before I have to cut it down."

Yang starts going on about products she uses and Jaune slowly starts slipping away. There's an excitement brimming off her cheeks, a confidence to bury any embarrassment she might have had. It's like she's not even here anymore. She's in Clove with his sisters.

He feels a tightness on his wrist. Yang gives him a dangerous look. "Oh, no way, buster. You're staying here so I don't collapse in on myself." She tugs him in and wraps an arm around his.

They're shocked when another voice comes in. "We'll aren't you two cute," says Helia, Jaune's mom as she peeks over Sable's shoulder.

The afternoon is a blur of conversation. Bikes and Cars are both similar and different enough that Yang and Sable get along quick with always something interesting to add.

Coral has a distinct fascination with Yang's hair and has non-stop questions. It's got loose strands and is the furthest thing from perfectly straight but Yang makes it work somehow and Coral has an intense need to know how. Jaune just calls it Xiao Long magic.

Liona and Dahlia, despite being respectively excitable and largely subdued, ask Jaune and Yang both about being huntsmen. Yang catches the way Dahlia's eyes go a little wide at the excitement and terror of their stories, and Jaune never fails to point out every time Liona chews her lip like she can't decide if being a huntress is for her. He lets her sort it out until she's ready to talk about it.

The only sister Yang hasn't met yet is Cori, the second eldest, and that's cause she's in Atlas. Jaune notes that she's keeping an eye on Weiss and Neptune for them. They stop the conversation when Sable tells her that they're really allowed to talk about it.

Helia – she still insists on Aunt Hess but Yang's still getting the hang of it – reminds them that they promised to have dinner with her and her husband.

And when it's all over and they wave their goodbyes, Yang's eyes are as bright as she remembers. "I wanna meet them," she says when they're on the couch.

"This summer then. I was planning on coming home. Sable might have to run a summer circuit for her sponsors but she'll still catch us. And Cori will be there for a week. We can even get Saph to come join us."

"Yes. That. Please?"

He pulls his scroll off the coffee table. "Alright, alright. Calm down. It's happening. Let me just drop Cori a line so we can figure out when it's best."

She hugs him. "Thank you," she whispers.

"For what? I only called up my sister."

"For this. Them. All of it. I really needed to get out of my own headspace."

"Back to Remnant?"

"Not quite. It still hurts. Just a little. I can't shake the feeling."

He gently pushes her away, grabs her waist, and thumbs her cheek. "Maybe a classic distraction will suffice."

She giggles. Her cheeks are warming up. "I missed this. Just you and me."

They press their lips together. She pulls him down with her against the armrest of the couch.

While he's holding her steady by the waist, her own hands can't seem to settle anywhere. One minute she's clutching the back of his head grabbing a fistful of hair, the next she's tugging on his shirt and stretching the fabric. Now she's on his neck, pulling him in.

He loves the way she tastes. Practically devours her lips until he coaxes her into his biting his.

He gasps and that hungry look in her eyes tells him that wants him to sing for her. His eyes are dangerous in response, pulling away only to bury his face in her neck. She shuts her eyes and expects him to bite, to mark her like they do every time, but he's suckling and her skin feels like it's getting more sensitive.

"Ah…!" She bites her lip. She wants him to keep going but she also wants him to do more. Her fingers curl into the back of his neck. Arching her back to the sensations bursting from his ministrations, she hisses before whispering, "bite me."

She can feel the way hot breath pouring out of his nostrils as she says that. You're a dangerous woman, he'd all but said. And with the look he gives her in the periphery, she can't help but feel him saying it with his eyes. He bites down and her back arcs again. Its soft and he's suckling at the same time. She wonders how that would feel on other parts of her body.

When she's curling into him, she gasps as her limbs act without her consent. Her arms wrap around his shoulders and her legs bend and clasp around his waist. She's already off the sofa and hanging off of him entirely.

"Yang…" he breathes. They pull back enough for her to see the manic look in his eyes. There's nothing coy about it. It's just hunger. Need. And after everything they've been through, she knows she wants it too.

He's looking down at her as he settles his breathing and lays her back on the couch. She doesn't let go, only now his weight is on her. As meek as she looks, he has to tell himself that she can take it, but the innuendo sparks dangerous images in his mind. It doesn't help that she's a hot, sweating mess.

She feels him pull a tent in his pants. It's nothing new. She'd even teased him about it now, but it's not out of place here.

Daring herself to look at it, she spies it in the space between their legs. It feels taboo to even bear witness, but in her half-hearted attempt to look away, she instead finds the tear in his shirt just at the collar. She doesn't know if she caused it, somewhere in all the tugging and moaning, it must have happened. In the afternoon sun, it's a clear sight line from his chest to his stomach. Sweat trails down there too and it drives her wild to follow it down.

His hand settles experimentally on her belly.

She looks up at him. His askance stare and bated breath do not need words. She nods.

It trails carefully downwards, delicate even at the shallow scratch of his nails. It feels like he's uncoiling tension bundled in her abs, and every line is a full, happy sigh sung from her lips.

He can't stop staring at his hand as it seems to go on forever over the valley of her stomach. A hand is on his cheek. He meets her eyes and she seems to dare him not to look away from her. Her other hand wraps around his wrist and guides it till snags at the hem of her shorts.

His breathing betrays him. It's practically telegraphing the tremors dancing in his chest. He doesn't want to scare her. The way she jumped back the first time they got this close still sends the wrong kind of shiver down his arm like he might burn her if he tried.

But she isn't afraid. Her eyes are half lidded, her breath staccatos but its even. Her hand tugs at his wrist again.

He undoes the button.

She gasps.

His finger traces the zipper.

She bites her lip.

A hint of panic settles in cause he needs to see what he's doing but he can't look away from her. She has no trouble staring at him herself. It's like she's in a trance and all she's interested in watching is him. So he swallows his fears and kisses her again. Her lips are welcoming but her tongue is a tidal wave that swallows him whole.

It emboldens him. Lets his fingers push passed the zipper and straight over the thin bit of cloth behind it. The fabric is like his own. Nothing special. Plain and normal, and makes him laugh against her lips and she laughs with him.

Her hand pulls his wrist over her crotch. His fingers graze the unshaven hairs down there. Then she lets go of his hand and trusts that he'll figure out the rest.

He does.

His hand is so much larger than her own. That's what she first thinks when his digits span over her southern hairs and inch its way down. He has to pull his chest away from hers to get an angle that doesn't twist his wrist, but she doesn't stop moaning into his mouth.

A heated line draws sidewards from his hands, like her legs are tugging closed along the path his hand into her mound. She welcomes it. There's no alarm bells in her head. She wants to bring him there and trap him

She's okay with this.

And when his fingers smooth over her entrance and finds exactly where to make first contact, her heart's already ramming into the walls of her chest. She wants it. A bite of his lip. Bodies press firmly together. She's already trapped him down there.

She wants it. She wants it. She wants it!

Yang pulls away. He's shocked out of her nethers. His fingers are still wet.

"Yang… I'm – I'm sorry, I –"

She closes into him and shoves his damp hand into his mouth. "How do I taste?" she asks, voice hot on his neck. Inside, she's screaming because it would have been sexier to taste it herself. Then again, she isn't sure she wants that.

"Like you," he breathes against the back of her neck.

She laughs. "What's a girl supposed to take away from that?"

"Because like everything else about you, it makes me want more."

The hammering in her chest has evened out. "I want this. You. All of it."

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing. I'm not scared. I don't even know why I was in the first place anymore."

"Is that what happened? Did it bother you? Not knowing why?"

She doesn't need to answer. Instead she pulls away, kisses his lips, and tells him, "The Aries."

"My car?"

"Yes. Could you go and get the installment cleared and… maybe grab us dinner? Please?" She doesn't want to have to say that she needs a bit more time to figure this out, but he's already kissed her and is at the door.

"Later?" he asks.

She nods, a giddiness worming its way into her cheeks. "Later. I'll be ready when you come home."

He loves that look on her. He'd kiss her again if he didn't have to go.

-0-

Blake gets a call from Yang. She has to pull away from Ren and Nora on the beanbag. She's barely dressed as it is (Nora's slovenly habits are starting to rub off on her) and she isn't sure she's ready to answer any questions Yang might have about what's going on between them.

"Yang?"

"Blake! Uh… did you just get out of bed?"

She glances at her roommates. Nora's waggling her brows and Ren has that tiny smile of his that is somehow far more embarrassing. "Something like that. What about you? Do I even need to ask about the fresh hickey?"

Yang is silent for a moment. "I almost had sex with Jaune."

Her eyes widen hysterically. "Almost? What happened?"

"I needed to sort some things out." Her eyes narrow. "Look, we're gonna meet again in an hour or two, but before then, I need to bounce the last few months with my best friend."

Blakes gives her a good-natured sigh. "Fine," she says with a smile she can't stop, "give me the whole story."

"It all started on the day I was born."

"Yang!"

"I'm… I'm only half joking."

-0-

It's sundown when he gets home. He half expects scented candles, ambient music, thick makeup, and lingerie. But there's none of that. She isn't even in the living room.

"Yang?" he calls out.

His scroll pings.

"Take a shower in the guest room and come meet me in your room, please?" It reads. He takes off his jacket and pulls off his shirt when his scroll pings again. "If you love me, you'll come in only towel. So please love me."

He sprints into the shower.

Minutes later he's mostly dry and standing in his own living room, staring at his bedroom door like it'll fall on him if he even dares to come in to see his probably barely dressed girlfriend.

He knocks.

A moment of silence, but it is quiet enough to hear her take a healthy breath before she gives him a nervous "I'm ready!"

He expects a mountain of nerves. Maybe even another try at the lingerie with a bit of snide confidence beneath a toothy grin. But when he opens the door, he finds a gentle smile sitting up in an igloo of blankets. There's no put-upon anything here. She's not trying to be enticing, or trying to get a rise out of him,

He can only call that look honest.

"Are you cold?" he asks.

The question shocks her into laughter. Cause he's fresh out of the shower and she's been cozy in these sheets for the better part of an hour now. "No, no, I'm plenty warm."

"Could be warmer," he says. He doesn't intend to flirt but it's already out of his mouth and she's matching the nervous, embarrassed smile on his cheeks.

"Maybe. Why don't you come here and find out?"

With the towel wrapped firmly around his waist, he locks the door behind him and crawls onto the bed. He doesn't get any closer though.

Now that he's up close, he can see the silhouette of her bare legs just between the sheets. One of her hands comes out to pull both sides of the sheet together while the other comes to reach for him.

He takes her hand, bare knees touching.

"Hey," he says. And it's goofy, and so like him that it blossoms something in her chest.

"Hey, yourself." She calms her own nerves again and he loves the way the shape of her straightens like she's conquered something again.

He's staring and he knows it but the moonlight is sinking in through the gaps in the blinds and he swears her hair can put gold to shame.

"I've figured out why I was so afraid before," she says.

"Of getting intimate?"

"Yeah…" Her hands are sweating. Her gaze is locked to their hands. "I've already shown you so much of me. I've carved out my deepest fears and fed them to you like I was trying to stuff you full. Cause I didn't like having them in me. Like mom, and us, and Vytal, and now my team… When I'm with you, I already feel exposed. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with showing you all these sides of me but…"

She looks up at him, and their eyes meet. "I still have secrets." She says it like an apology. "But I'm not about to share my every thought but I find myself speaking my mind around you all the time anyway. I've been open but it's like I can't hide anything from you." She inches closer and her hand on the blankets tightens. "And this? Us? It's like I'm showing you all that's left. I'm no prude. I don't mind showing you a little skin."

He laughs. She doesn't wear much to bed. Not that he does either. "You never really seemed concerned about it, yeah."

"Yeah, but… doing this means I'm giving you something I can't take back or keep for myself. What I'll say or do when we do it will be new secrets and they'll be yours and… I was afraid of that."

Was, she said. He focuses on that.

His fingers run over her knuckles. She fixates on the way his hands are trying to hold her without getting any closer.

"What changed?" he asks.

"You… you showed me that you were just as scared." She remembers the way he was breathing only hours ago, staring down at her like he was scared of hurting her if he kept giving in to what she was offering. "It was like a hundred little things. Adrian, Terra, wanting to ruin your hair like an idiot for me…"

He scratches the back of his head. "I thought I was keeping a brave face on that one."

"Please. I love you but there's no way you were going to be comfortable looking an idiot again no matter how much you say it wasn't going to bother you." She sighs. "It's funny how that made me love you more."

Her smile falls away. "When I was younger, I was used to affection. It was like I had a mom and two dads. They'd dote on me and sing my praises like I could be nothing but spectacular. I couldn't go a day without being smothered by someone's love… Then… Then I lose Summer and dad shuts down. Qrow would try to be there for us and did everything he could while he was around but he always had to go to work. And I kept thinking if I was feeling like this, how did Ruby feel? How much did she feel that she was missing out on? So, I smother her with enough love to make up for everyone else, but every time I did, I was reminded of how much I missing for myself."

"And then we happened and it's not all the making out, or the cuddling, or the hickeys. I was afraid I'd have to give up this apartment cause I was overstaying my welcome, but then you smile at me and… Jaune, do you remember what you said to me that day?"

He's been flush this entire time. "I, uh, no, I don't."

"You told me it was already decided. Like I belonged here and that I never needed to work for it even if I tried my hardest to prove that I did. I didn't need to earn a place here. We were friends and you thought that was already enough."

He squeezes her hand. "It goes both ways, y'know?"

She squeezes back. "Tell me."

"I hated this apartment. When I first got it I thought I'd just bought myself a hole I could hide in while I drown myself." He eyes the walls, and even in the dark he knows where he'd had to plaster over cracks he'd punched into. "And it wasn't like I had anywhere else to go so I couldn't leave. I thought I'd maybe show up at the clubs and find someone else to warm my sheets, but even when I got propositioned, I couldn't dare to drag anyone else into what I'd put myself through."

"Then you showed up and I forgot what those nights even really felt like. It was just you, tearing every sordid, manic page out of my book and putting yourself there instead. It isn't just Terra you replaced it was… everything else. No more cold nights, broken sinks, or empty bottles. Even when things are quiet in the morning, it was nice to remember someone else was there that I had to wake up. It was nice knowing I had to cook for two. It was nice knowing that whenever I had to go out and do something tiring, or frustrating, or stupid… there was always someone waiting for me at home."

He lets go of her and makes for the vanity. A drawer is tugged open. Yang recognizes it as the one Jaune uses to hide the previous tenant's wedding ring box, but that isn't he pulls out of it. It's his flask. He sets there in full view of her. "I haven't needed it in months."

There's warmth against her skin. Even back then he said that she couldn't fill the gap of every torment but there it is. Definitive proof that she has. And it isn't just that she's done it, or even that she's done it for months, but also that she hasn't noticed. That the part of him with doubts has quietly slipped away.

And it's the same for her.

When he's back on the bed, she slinks her hands away into the blanket, clutching its two halves.

She's surprised at how easy it is to pull them apart and show him all of her. That doesn't mean it gets any easier with the way he stares at her. Yang has to resist covering up again.

His eyes trace the length of her arms down to her toned, steady legs. Back up to her abs and the swell of her breasts, to the soft coiling of her shoulder blades into her neck. This woman is built like a brick house and he loves every inch of her.

She'd already been staring at most of him before the towel on his waist slips away. The broad stroke of his arms, the wound tightness of his chest, his abs are pulled taut but his navel looks soft and boyish between the strong ridges. His legs are thin but muscled. She never knew she could appreciate the curve of a calf before but his legs help make him tall and it looks like she can dine on its width.

He crawls towards her and she welcomes his look of uncertainty as if it was her own. She falls back onto the sheets, prepared for him. One hand on her belly, the other pressed firmly over her beating chest. He doesn't move in to kiss her. He's stopped and staring somewhere on her breast. She almost cracks a joke about it but his hand comes up suddenly and runs along her skin.

"What happened here?" he asks.

There's the shadow of a scar beneath her left breast. She's surprised he can even see it in the low light. "Accident. I crashed my bike one night when driving home back to Beacon. It was… it wasn't a very good night. Assholes just drove on by and didn't bother checking in. Everyone sees an armed huntress and they think I can everything handle my own. Never mind that I was bleeding and calling out for help."

His eyes narrow. "People in this city suck."

"C'mon, they're not all bad. That boatman's pretty nice."

"Tackle."

"What?"

He snorts. "Yang, that's his name. Tackle. You're telling me we spent two weekends with him and you don't even know his name? You remember the old guy who sells dust? You meet him every month. His name's Shop and he's Tackle's brother."

She's laughing. Mostly from embarrassment. Mostly. "And how do you know this?"

"I talked to him?"

She shakes her head. "Y'know what, nevermind. I'm lying back here naked and you've got me thinking about old men and their equally old brothers."

"But hey, not so nervous anymore, right?"

He's right. It's so much easier to just talk to him. "Yeah. Much better tha-a-anks~! Jaune!"

His head's below her breast, kissing along her scar. He's doing it so softly that it tickles. "J-Jaune! Ha ha! What are you doing?"

"Kissing it better," he says matter-of-factly.

"Quit it! Ha ha! It tickles!"

He pulls his lips off her and leans over her, resting his forehead to hers. "No more bad memories. I'll rip out everything from before and give you something new everyday."

She nudges her nose to his. "Everyday?" she asks softly.

He shrugs but he means it. "I'm exaggerating but I'll try."

She runs a hand down his cheek. "Why do you always gotta do that?"

"Do what?"

"Just… be real with me? Some guys just stop at the sweeping romantic gesture."

"I think I'm incapable of being anything else with you at this point."

"Scary," she teases. "Jaune Arc, ever exposed. How will I ever contain myself?"

"Shut up."

She shakes her head meaningfully, something beautiful dancing behind her eyes. He tells himself it's love. "I can't. Words are all I have when I can't do anything with my hands."

He kisses her knuckle, its strength softening at his touch. "And why don't you?"

He's flush against her. Her knees curl around his waist. "Because I won't be able stop myself if you let me."

"Don't stop," he whispers. "Show me everything."

Her hand braces against the back of his neck.

He sucks on her lower lip. Then he does the same to the other.

She moans and it's raw and animalistic, but it's a symphony in his ear.

-0-

Yang plops onto the sofa next to him. "If this takes any longer, I'm going to tear my hair out."

Jaune takes a sip of his apple juice and eyes her passed the glass. She's been stressing out all afternoon. "I don't think you've failed enough tests to warrant a failing grade. Didn't you pass the exams?"

"I'm not worried about failing." A pause. She doesn't look at him when she admits, "I need to get a B."

His brow creases. "You only need to not fail to be a huntress."

"Yeah, but they don't let you be a teacher or a coach without at least B."

"You wanna be a teacher?"

She scratches her head. "No? Yes. Maybe. Look, I wanna have my options open."

He sits closer. She can feel his warmth on her hip. "Is this cause of what Qrow said yesterday?"

"Mom, actually. We were talking about how she wishes she was home and worrying about cracking an egg right instead of trying to crack open a conspiracy."

She doesn't need to tell him more. "Yang, our kids will still love you if you're not home all the time."

"But I'd like to be home all the time. I hate the idea of being gone for months and… ugh, look at me. Losing my mind on imaginary children."

"You're thinking ahead. It's what a leader does. I like to think it's what a Xiao Long does too."

Yang rubs her arm. "Yeah… leader." With both Weiss and Ruby officially off the campus roster, Yang had been voted as the new leader. It's strange having to trade teammates with JNPR every once in a while to get teams of three, but they're always all together now anyway. Still, the title hangs over her head and she's trying her best.

"You'll get used to it. Leadership isn't a hard class and you'll only officially start taking it next year."

"But sitting in it makes me think a lot. I didn't think a class with no grades could be so stressful… I mean, maintaining team psychology? I didn't think Ruby had to consider our wellbeing all the time, and now that I do, I feel like we all take our leaders for granted."

He puts a hand on her shoulder. "See, this is why we don't talk about Leadership outside of class. You gotta detox. What would you like?"

She tosses her scroll onto the coffee table. "These grades. I get this out of my system, and I can start worrying about everything else."

He claps his hands and gets up. "Okay, bubble bath, massage oil, scented candles, and cake it is."

She gives him a wiry smile. "Thank you…"

"What kind of cake?" he asks when he's sifting through the cupboards in the kitchen. "I can whip up the chiffon and icing real quick if that's what you're after."

She picks her scroll back up and thumbs through her messages. She goes through a backlog from Ruby. She met up with Weiss a few days back and the photo of them together (and Oscar getting along with Whitley in back) always manages to curl a smile into her. Among the images sent, she finds another with Weiss alone in her room. Neptune's not allowed to get close just yet but she's wearing the aquamarine necklace her got her for the proposal.

"I'm thinking Red Velvet," she calls out to him. "Maybe you can experiment again? I'd love to help you try."

"Nah, not this time. I couldn't get the red velvet to mix right even with Ren's help. I'll need to pick a lesson with mom when we get to Clove so I can get it down."

She gets an image from Blake. She's having afternoon tea with her parents. Ren and Nora are with her. Ren seems right at home with Kali, and Nora seems to have gotten Ghira to laugh. Somewhere in the background, Sun's teasing Ilia about someone on her scroll. She's turned a shade of pink, which does nothing to hide her blush. Looks like Sun managed to find her a girlfriend after all.

"We can do a different cake then," she tells Jaune.

"It's okay, I'll just order again." He already has his scroll up. "But we're getting three little boxes. I'm not letting you engorge the whole thing again."

She snorts. "You can't stop me from snacking."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yang, one of these days I'm gonna have to buy a padlock for the fridge."

"Like a padlock would stop me."

His hand slaps the counter. "Okay, no bubble bath, and no massage then."

"Fine. Little cakes. But you know I can just order more, right? It's a joint account after all." It was her mother's idea to help them balance finances between them. It managed to get Helia Arc to talk to Raven. They get along. Yang doesn't know what do with that.

"Please don't do anything crazy with the account. It's the last installment for the car."

"Which I'm helping you pay for. I deserve a treat."

Jaune stops what he's doing and just stares at her. She's not normally this difficult. Or difficult at all, for that matter. "Yang, are you messing with me?"

She peeks back gives him a sheepish grin from behind the couch. "Yes? C'mon, you know I love you. You like eating them with me anyway. You need to get your head out of the rain too." Because their new tub is big enough for two, the massage is always the kind with a happy ending, and she's pretty sure the scented candles are just a silent joke between them at this point.

He comes around to sit next to her again. "I'm not the one worrying about her grades."

"And I'm not the one stressing about his car," she counters. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

Leaning back into the cushions, he loses any desire to argue. "I took good care of it…"

"I know you did, so it's not your fault. Just you wait. The mechanic will be back with a message for you any minute now to tell you it was a nothing issue and they can fix it in an afternoon."

She's on her inbox with Jaune now. They hardly send messages anymore since they're together all the time so instead they send each other the pictures they take so they always both have copies. They had a mission at the ruins of Glenn, a dinner date by the docks, drew on Ren's face while he slept, spent an afternoon hanging photos off strings on the ceiling, visited Cardin in the hospital (he's got a cool scar along his arm and neck now), took a hike in the woods, and there's a dozen more photos of them cozying up in the apartment. These have just been in the last month, too. With summer coming, they'll have enough photos to hide entire ceiling at the dorm.

Jaune leans over. "Why am I Hummingbird in your contacts? I thought I was Vomit Boy."

She snickers. "Well, you know how Blake's books have all those fancy words for sex? Like the word vagina is somehow too crass for 'erotica'."

He squints. "I already don't like where this is going."

"So we got to talking and she mentions how, in her latest book, the vagina substitute is flower, and what comes out is nectar."

Jaune buries his head in his hands. "Oh my god, Yang…"

"And with the amount of time you spend down there…"

"Yang!"

"Did you know that hummingbirds can consume up to eight times their weight in nectar? Those are rookie numbers. They should probably take notes from you."

He grabs her face and presses his forehead to hers, manic eyes meeting hers. "I love you, but if you have an off switch, you have to tell me."

She looks down and up at him again. She points to her lips. "They're right here, lover boy."

He pulls back and looks between her lips and the coy look in her eyes. "I… no." He huffs and crosses his arms. "Not doing it."

This throws her for a loop. "What? Why?"

He glances back at her. She wants it just as much. Now he's the one being coy. "Cause this is funny."

"Fine. Why don't I send Blake a few of these little facts. She's started writing and I'm sure she could use some our juicy details."

"Yang, no."

She's already typing down on her scroll. Jaune crashes into her and they fall back onto the arm rest. For a moment they struggle as Jaune tries to reach for her scroll until Yang decides to slip the device into the back of her sweater. If he goes for it, he'll reach have to reach in closer and their faces are already close enough as it is.

"And it's gone!" she cheers. "I mean, feel free to try for it again but there's enemy territory down here."

He thumbs over her cheeks. "Fine. You win." He says with a chortle. "I swear, Yang, you're impossible."

"And yet you have me anyway."

Their lips press together warmly, making them meld together into a host of mewls and hushed laughter.

Their scrolls ping. They go completely ignored.

-END-

And that’s it! I hope you liked it! There’s a sequel coming down the pipeline but for now I have a major Dragonslayer story to work on elsewhere on my ff.net and ao3 accounts. Maybe I’ll post a link here to it when it comes out.

That said, thank you to everyone who gave this story their love. I would not have made it this far without your support. Thank you. :’)

[91percentpynch]

the cut that always bleeds - kevaaron au pt 3

kejerejean stans? this one is for you. no seriously this one is out of jean‘s point of view? cuz honestly i love that hoe so much. as always get your tissues ready guys. this is actually kinda long? and a mess? and no one beta read it so if there are mistakes or it doesn‘t make sense i‘m sorry!! this is not that sad? tw: mention of murder, mention of physically hurting someone, mention of stabbing, mention of the nest, mention of trauma

check this out to find the other parts:)

Jean has always been a light sleeper. He had to be in order to survive the horrors of Evermore.

So naturally the sobs - as silent as they might have been - woke him up. His eyes opened at once, he sat straight up. Almost automatically he got to his feet and left the room to get to Kevin.

After all, comforting Kevin was like breathing to him.

Jeremy followed Jean, because he would always follow Jean. Jeremy was like a moth and Jean was the light. Wherever he went Jer would follow.

So they went to Kevin‘s room. The striker laid in his bed, curled up, phone in his hand, uncontrollable sobs escaping his mouth.

„I see you took the call this time“, Jean said, surprisingly gentle.

„I wanted to end it. I wanted to have a clear cut. So tell me, why does the cut still bleed?“, Kevin whispered, his voice barely audible.

„Because it‘s a cut that always bleeds“, Jeremy told Kevin as he came closer, carefully and ever so gentle placing his hands on the other boy‘s back.

„He said he wants me to come back to him“, Kevin whispered while holding onto himself as if to try to stop himself from falling apart. „He told me he misses me. That he only gets high when he misses me“

It was quiet in the dark room, shadows were dancing, just as Aaron and Kevin used to dance in the dead of night underneath the night sky.

„You did the right thing Kev“, Jean replied in French while he got into the Bed behind Kevin. Just like they used to do in the Nest.

When Kevin was in his arms he began to hum a French lullaby into his ear.

Jeremy joined them after a second of admiring his beautiful boyfriend and the broken boy in his arms.

„Dude, do you want something? Hot coca? A special Knoxian hug? Us to get Andrew to gut that bastard? Wait, hold on. I forgot. Twin brother. Well, I can gut him for you? Andrew and this is a word by word quote told be once ‚You‘re like a little unicorn in a world full of wolfs with razor sharp teeths, learn to gut the wolfs, stay safe‘, so he taught me how to stab someone? Yeah okay that is not the topic right now, I can still gut Aaron though. I mean Andrew would try to hurt me, but then again I‘m his best friend so he does not have the rights to gut me, right?“, Jeremy offered him a toothy grin, while his hand wandred to his neck rubbing it nervously.

„Can you please not gut him? First of all: Andrew already tried to choke me once when Josten was in danger and I told them where he was, cause apparently yOu DoN‘t KeEp ThOsE tHiNgS tO yOuRsElF yOu FuCkInG mOrOn. I think you do keep those things to yourself if the other option is to get fucking murdered by the mafia??? But what do I know, am I right? After all I‘m just a narcistic, Exy-obsessed asshole without a personality. Bonus I have anxiety, panic attacks, probably depression and I‘m unlovable“, Kevin mumbled into his pillow, the voices of the other foxes, of the other teams inside of his head.

„Did they tell you that?“, Jeremy asked, not quite able to hide the sadness and pain in his voice.

„Doesn‘t eveyone think that?“, Kevin asked. „I mean I think they tend to forget that the woman who gave birth to me, the last woman who geniuely loved me besides maybe Abby, invented the job. I think they tend to forget that the fucking mafia killed her when they found out I‘m not theirs by nature, so the only solution was apparently fucking murder. Then they kidnapped me, brainwashed and tortured me to the point where all I knew was Exy. Oh and maybe they also tend to forget that Ravens were only ever allowed to do Exy, if you were privilegded enough sleep, and do more Exy“

„Kevin you are so much more than that“, Jean whispered into Kevin‘s ear while pressing him against his chest. Just as they used to do in the Nest. „I might be mad at you, because you left me alone with those psychopaths. I used to think you didn‘t care about me. But you were just like me, okay with less scars and less you know. However I cannot say I wouldn‘t have done the same. I understand you now, Kevin. And please, please stop saying those things. And now let us cuddle you and let Jer go through his ridiculous post break-up list. We‘re gonna cuddle you and all you have to do is trying to fall asleep. Used to help me when I was alone at USC. Could only sleep properly when someone held me. Well, Jeremy. Tomorrow we‘ll shove unhealthy food down your throat and watch Downton Abbey or whatever those historcial dramas you love so much are called. While stroking your hand or whatever you‘re into big boy. Afterwards we‘ll take the dogs out and force you to watch the fucking sunset. And I‘ll hold your fucking hand“

Kevin supposed the middle of the night was the time of long lost truths. „Okay“, he mumbled while he moved closer to Jean. Replacing his smell with Jean‘s. It took him a while to fall asleep but he managed.

At the same time Jeremy said „Mi amor, I love you, I really do, but that was literally the most romantic thing you said in the past two years? That is way more romantic than ANY date you ever planned for me? Rude? The audacity?“

„Moi soleil, you don‘t have the ‚cult kidnapped me and tortured me‘ card you can pull, you get the bonus treatmeant of any other people. Besides I literally have matching tattoos with you? I drew you like multiply times? I wrote like a dozen poems and at LEAST one short story? I wrote you a fucking lullaby? You have no right to complain right now, or you‘ll loose your kissing privileges and I give them to Kevin“

„Eww gross“, Kevin mumbled.

„I don‘t remeber you saying that back in the Nest“, Jean replied, poking his cheek.

Kevin didn‘t have the energy to answer. It was a long day. Sleep could have him for the day. Death’s little sister might claim him for the night.

This night he dreamed about Aaron. Strong arms around his waist. Golden eyes locking with smaragd ones. They were on some lonely beach, kissing lazily while the water kissed their feet. It was a beautiful day. Not as beautiful as Aaron, but then again nothing would ever be as beautiful as this specific piece of art. Everything was alright. Everything was good. Why couldn‘t it be the real Aaron and the real Kevin on that beach.

At about noon Kevin woke up to a drooling Jeremy on his stomach and the smell of waffles and soft French swearing in the kitchen. Softly Kevin woke Jeremy up.

„Sorry I always end up on weird angles and drooling on random guys. Jean used to get so mad when I fell asleep in his lap. But you can‘t take him serious when he looks with you with heart eyes trying to be Mad, can you? Anyways we should probably go to him and help him? Oh wait hold on a hot second there. I‘m banned from the kitche, so we can sleep? Right? Right?“

„I hate to break this to you Jer, but it‘s noon. So, no we cannot sleep. You can choose my clothes, though. I know you love going through my stuff and playing dress the doll, Kevin Day edition“, Kevin almost smiled at Jeremy, when he looked up at him pouting.

Then he remembered another blonde boy, pouting at him when he told him no. Another constellation of freckles around another, straight, perfect nose. Sinful lips softly turned up, trying to look mad. Hazel eyes instead of ocean blue ones. Messy blonde curles, instead of soft badly dyed ginger ones. Strong arms instead of lean ones covered in flower tattoos. God, Kevin missed his Aaron.

No, not his. Not anymore

„Okay, but you have to wear to fab outfit I‘ll throw in your face“, Jeremy gave him another easy, toothy grin.

Slowly the other boy got out of bed and went over to the cabet. Slowly Jer went through Kevin‘s cloths. After a while he slowly turned around, holding a jersey that is obviously by far too small for Kevin in front of his face. „What is that? Why do you still have his jersey? Babe, you gotta get rid of that, rather sooner than later“

Jeremy had the weird habit of calling his friends babe, baby, dude or bro. Before Jean he called his boyfriends bro or dude as well, but Jean was so confused by it he quickly stopped doing it.

„First of all: I‘m a weak ass bitch, it smelled of it. And secondly maybe I wanna stab it once I‘m over the phase where I‘m like madly missing him?. I‘d just put it into a pillow, stab at it like a maniac and then set it on fire. I didn‘t grow up with a psychopath as my supposed best friend for nothing Jer“

„Okay? Well I got your clothes. And you‘ll look amazing, cause it‘s the FOX ONSIE I GOT YOU!!! I‘ll wear my onsie as well, and I‘ll force Jean to wear his one as well!! Much fun!! Much wholesome!!“

So that‘s how Kevin Day, queen of Exy, landed sandwiched between his childhood crush and long life crush on their couch, watching Downton Abbey with a plate of waffles on his lap. This was nice. He might had actually enjoyed it, if this wasn‘t his and Aaron‘s show. They used to watch it, cry over it together, make out while watching it.

Thank God didn‘t actually touch him while watching Downton Abbey, he was good at daydreaming. Kevin would just had preteneded that it was Aaron and he thought him breathing Aaron‘s name was the last thing any of them needed today.

After their Downton Abbey marathon they ordered pizza, against Kevin‘s better judgement. Another traditon Kevin shared with Aaron. At finals Aaron would often forget to eat and Kevin was too big of a mess to be bothered to cook so he would end up ordering something every single day and feeding it Aaron while he studied on the floor. Occasionally he would earn a soft kiss, growing hungrier when the night grew darker. God Kevin missed the soft lips on his own.

Kevin would have enjoyed the beach, wouldn‘t he be dressed in a fox onsie, holding hands with a 6“5 guy who looked like he both could and would kill you in a unicorn onsie holding two tiny dogs in his other hand and with a 5“4 dude in a matching unicorn onsie with two dogs that were almost bigger than him.

At least this didn‘t remind him on Aaron.

Well, actually. The way the ocean softly kissed the sand, reminded him of his dream. And of the endless trips to the beach, sleeping in the car, Aaron on top of him. Lazy kisses and warm hugs. It was the first place Aaron took Kevin after their rehab. It was the first night they spent together, as sober men. Well, not sober per se. But drunk and high on each others love. It might had been the most painful memory of the day. God he missed those strong arms around his waist.

Nontheless the pain got less, he felt almost numb. Kevin liked feeling numb. Nothing hurt when you feel numb.

The sunset was beautiful. It reminded him of golden hairs, freckles standing against golden skin, soft lips at his ears, his neck, the corner of his lips.

„Aaron you‘re supposed to look at the sunset, you shithead“, Kevin used to smile down at him. „But I‘m already looking at the most beautfiul thing this world has to offer“, Aaron replied smoothly, locking eyes with Kevin.

When the moon took the place of his long lost lover they decided to go back.

It was safe to say that no one dared to think that someone would wait for them there. Especially not the one person they tried to avoid by all means the entire day.

„You said to stop calling. Never mentioned face to face conversations“, a husky voice said. And Kevin‘s world stopped.

[adamfoolcry]

Troublesome (Part III)

part I, part II, part III (2) - coming soon

pairings: Maneater/Partygirl!Reader x BoyfriendMaterial!Jungwoo, Maneater/Partygirl!Reader x FirstLove!Hendery, BestCousin!Sicheng, Bestfriend!Lucas

pairings: 18+

warnings: consumption of alcohol, swearing, explicit language

genre: comedy maybe even a crackfic, smut, fluff, and a teeny tiny pinch of angst

summary: Your relationship with Jungwoo is moving fast except for one part, your sex life. You didn’t know you signed up for the nunnery when you agreed to dating him. Oh, and Lucas your best friend is transferring to Korea.

word count: 3,438

chinese slang: meimei = little sister, gege = older brother, baobei = baby

a/n: I always forgot I have this in my drafts nyways there is no smut here and jungwoo barely appears. Here is the third installment of my crackfic:Troublesome.

"Mèimei no you're not moving in with Jungwoo. Don't even try I won't ever allow you to." Sicheng's eyes were hard he was already set to stone. Yes, it is nice that you have finally decided to pursue a serious relationship since your first one but isn't living together too much of a stretch.

"As if that will stop me Gege. Go worry about your relationship I heard Jiwon is complaining about your lack of sex drive." You are already packing your things at your dorm when Sicheng stormed in with angry livid eyes going on and on about that moving in this early in a relationship is too fast. You have been dating Jungwoo for three months now and everything is going smoothly. Your ears are ringing from his sermon and Sicheng won't shut up.

"Shut your yap Sicheng gege! I know you care about me but if you won't support my decisions then get the fuck out of here." You shouted at him. Sicheng was so astonished it has been a while since you raised your voice at him. Jungwoo entered the room unaware of what's happening.

"Princess you finished? Oh Sicheng hyung why are you here?" Jungwoo looked at Sicheng confused. You would have never guessed what will happen next Sicheng have never been a person capable of hurting any living creature but he leaped at Jungwoo punching the other boy's cheek.

"How dare you Jungwoo! How can you tell her our boy talk? We swore an oath!" They both stumbled down to the ground Sicheng straddling Jungwoo's waist pulling his fist back for another punch aiming for Jungwoo's jaw.

"You don't know how powerful she is hyung." Jungwoo made a makeshift shield using his arms attempting to block Sicheng's upcoming punch.

"No gege! Not my baby's face don't ruin his face!" You shouted at Sicheng. Sicheng slowly put his fist down and got off Jungwoo's waist.

"Whatever do what you want to do mèimei. I am tired of taking care of you." Sicheng said resigned knowing he can never stop you because of how stubborn you are.

You quickly rushed to hug Sicheng from behind proclaiming your undying love for him. "I love you so much gege you know that right." Jungwoo stood up from where he is situated on the floor and joined the group hug, hugging Sicheng from the front.

"Get off me man." Sicheng said irritated. Jungwoo pried Sicheng out of your embrace and replace Sicheng's position circling his arms around you. You giggled at how silly Jungwoo is. He looked down at you and asked. "Why didn't you help me when Sicheng Hyung is beating me up?"

You looked at Jungwoo your eyes glinting with menace. "You two looked like the main characters of a BL series it's so hot."

Both men exclaimed mortified.

"Princess!"

"Mèimei!"

In the end, it was Sicheng and Jungwoo who did all the work packing up your things and moving it to Jungwoo's apartment while you order them left and right. Jungwoo was so tired that after setting up everything he fell to the bed out of exhaustion straight out of the shower. You pout beside him you have prepped yourself with your high-end lotion and even waxed your coochie one week prior to the move for the most-awaited sexy time but ever since Jungwoo asked you out, you two have never done it and he won't even let you see his dick. Yes, he was superb in fingering and eating you out but you're really high maintenance. Before this relationship, you go around the town thrice a week with different flavors. How can he neglect you like this? You shook his arm timidly.

He opened one of his eyes and turned his face sideways to smile at you. "What is it, Princess? Why are you grumpy?"

"Jungwoo why do you deprive me of your allegedly self-proclaimed big dick?" You pouted at him.

"Good things to those who wait Princess. Come here hug your baby. I am so tired we have to convert the other room into your walk-in closet because you own too many clothes." You snuggled beside him wrapping your arms around his chest.

"Why do you own so many Halloween costumes?" Jungwoo asked you confused.

"That's for roleplaying stupid." You rolled your eyes at him.

"Then why is there a guadatema onesie I don't think my dick will react to that." Jungwoo announced incredulously.

"That's my pajamas!" You slapped his chest.

Today is your fourth month anniversary and you are getting tired of Jungwoo not initiating sex. You can't take this anymore you have been practicing celibacy for four months now you didn't know you signed up for the nunnery when you got into this relationship. Jungwoo always looked so hot especially when shirtless yes he doesn't have a six-pack but he's lean and well-muscled and holy shit his v line coupled with his height. Every time you see him shirtless you are sure you like a dog with rabies salivating at the sight of him. You don't know if he is teasing or he is that oblivious. Sicheng called you and waved his hands up your face seeing that you are not listening to him anymore.

"Mèimei did you understand what I said?" Sicheng asked you.

"Yeah yeah." You brushed him off. "We will fetch Lucas at the airport next week. He will be transferring next sem at our university and will be staying at your apartment." It's not that you are not excited to see your bestfriend again but there are more pressing matters like you going crazy because of your nonexistent sex life.

"Gege did I gain weight?" You asked Sicheng to which he answered with a shake of his head.

"Did I become less attractive?" You asked him again.

"Mèimei what is this about? This is the first time you have been insecure." Sicheng asked you seriously.

"It-has-been-four-months-since-Jungwoo-and-I-started-dating-and-he-never-initiated-to-have-sex-with-me." You let it all out in one breath embarrassed that you are confiding to your older cousin. Sicheng laughed so hard that he was clutching his stomach.

"So ironic that you a man-eater choose a monk for a boyfriend." Sicheng continued laughing even clapping his hands looking like an overexcited seal.

The three of you are standing at the airport waiting for Lucas. You even prepared a poster for him your arms are getting tired of holding it up but you decided to endure it. Jungwoo hugged you from behind placing his head on your shoulder most likely bored from waiting for 45 minutes.

"Princess so tell me something about Lucas." Jungwoo asked out of curiosity.

"He is our giant baby. For context, he's taller than you. He is always full of energy and is such a sensitive soul despite his appearance." You look at Jungwoo listing Lucas' good points.

"Should I be worried it sounds like he's an old flame?" Jungwoo replied scrunching his eyebrows.

"Yeah he is but it didn't work out." Jungwoo looked at you shocked. You snickered he's so cute. You can't help but press a kiss on his cheek.

"You should actually be worried Jungwoo there was a time that even I feel like a third wheel whenever the three of us go out and that was after they decided to be just friends. The two of them are so alike.” Sicheng fueled Jungwoo's worries. Just as Sicheng finished his sentence you saw Lucas running towards the three of you leaving his luggage and sprinting in your direction.

"Baobei!" Lucas shouted opening his arms. You rushed towards him breaking free of Jungwoo's hug and letting your poster fall to the floor. You leaped onto his arms and he lifted you into the air, spinning you around your joyous laughter filling the place. To everyone else watching it's like a scene taken out of romance movies where the two lovers reunited again after having been separated for a long time even the crowd was taking pictures and videos because of the sweet encounter. Jungwoo's jaw almost fell to the floor. This gorgeous man is your bestfriend and also your ex-boyfriend he didn't know he signed up for more trouble when he asked you out.

Sicheng sighed "See what I mean. Don't even try to separate them tonight." Sicheng then proceeded to fetch Lucas' luggage pushing it towards the parking lot.

"Come on you three it's getting close to midnight." Sicheng shouted. Needless to say, Jungwoo went home to your shared apartment alone you decided to spend the night at Sicheng's he wanted to stay with you but you told him that you will be not sleeping and most likely visit a club or two with Lucas.

It was just like the old times when you and Lucas are younger after visiting a club, you two will drive around at the wee hours of the morning grabbing fast food and talking just about everything. It feels comfortable with him but this time neither of you are trying to fill a gap in each other’s hearts. Lucas parked Sicheng's car at a secluded parking lot with a beautiful view of the night sky. The two of you sitting on the hood of the car eating burgers and fries.

"So I heard from Winwin ge that you are in a serious relationship now with that guy Jungwoo." Lucas broke the comfortable silence looking at you his stare questioning.

"Yeah Yukhei can you believe it? and I am so happy. I like him a lot like a lot, a lot." You smiled at him and Lucas smiled back at you. This is Lucas' genuine smile, not the one he throws at potential one night stands he reserves it for his most cherished persons and that includes you.

"I see baobei then there are no questions needed." Lucas reached out and held your hand in his. You are so lucky to have Lucas who supports you unconditionally.

"What about you Yukhei? Tell me do you still pursue casual relationships?" You asked him.

"I actually stopped when you left me in Beijing to study here. With you and Sicheng gone I was so lost and sad. Sleeping with girls didn't help in fact it made me feel crappier so I decided to stop it altogether." Lucas confessed looking down as if he was ashamed of himself. You tried to comfort him leaning your head on his shoulder and drawing circles with your thumb at the back of his hand.

"Don't worry you're here now whenever you feel sad or disheartened just call me and I'll cross the high heavens and lowest depths of hell just to get to you." You poked his belly with your index finger.

"Don't make me cry baobei." You heard Lucas sniffling his tears.

"Even now you're still a big baby Yukhei." You laughed at him. The night sky is so beautiful and you have never felt this happy in a long time.

The next day Sicheng arranged a welcome dinner on behalf of Lucas of course the two of you are fashionably late. Sicheng, Jiwon, and Jungwoo are already at the restaurant waiting for you and Lucas to arrive. You made your entrance at the restaurant your arm looped with Lucas' facing each other talking animatedly and laughing. It was as if the two of you are in your own little bubble. When the two of you reached the table you went to where Jungwoo is and sat beside him. His arm automatically circling your waist as he press a kiss on the side of your head.

"Awww so sweet." Lucas teased you and Jungwoo. He was sitting on the opposite side besides Jiwon.

"You're just jelly Yukhei." You stuck your tongue out at him. Everyone laughed at your retort. The food arrived and the conversation was flowing steadily there was a continuous stream of laughter. Lucas using his charms threw a joke one after another paired with his comical facial expressions and broken english phrases. Sicheng and Jiwon bid goodbye first and left earlier the three of you stayed at the restaurant.

"By the way man did I tell you how I met ________?" Lucas started rubbing his palms together his lips forming an evil grin. You kicked Lucas under the table trying to stop him.

"So it goes like this I met _______ at a club she was having a catfight with another girl who is accusing _______ of sleeping with her boyfriend. They were clawing each other’s' face off basically it was chaos the crowd even formed a circle around them as if it was a live wrestling match betting on who's gonna win. Then-" Lucas stopped his narration and started laughing so hard wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. You started kicking him harder under the table.

"She puked at the other girl I swear everyone was so mortified. I even recorded it on my phone. _______ went viral and was banned at that club." Lucas continued laughing you quickly got of your seat and placed your hands around Lucas' neck intending to choke him. Jungwoo had to pry you off Lucas to make you stop. Lucas was coughing so hard.

"What was that for baobei?" Lucas started rubbing the part where you nearly asphyxiated him a handprint evident on the skin of his neck."Seriously man how do you deal with her?" Lucas asked Jungwoo while trying to clear his throat. Jungwoo just shrugged and looked at you lovingly.

You decided that if Jungwoo won't take matters into his hand you will have to seduce him. You pampered yourself with your one hour self-care routine and wore your white off-shoulder dress showing just the right amount of cleavage that makes you look like a greek goddess.

Jungwoo just got off work from where he was interning at and he just wants to end the day by cuddling you on the bed before going to sleep. When he entered the apartment door he was surprised to see you waiting for him, dressed up so prettily. He smiled he was so lucky to have you.

"Princess you look like an angel." Jungwoo said admiring you.

"You look like a CEO, who fucks his secretary." Did he hear you right? Jungwoo was shocked as you made your way to him like a predator hunting its prey. He was in trance it was as if someone glued him to that spot as he watches the subtle sway of your hips as walk you towards him.

"I can be your secretary." You look up at him sultrily, pushing him against the closed apartment door as you kiss him deeply. You got so impatient to touch his bare skin so you work on untucking his white polo from his slacks. Your greedy little hands roaming under his shirt heating up his skin. Jungwoo pulled your bare thighs around his waist carrying you to the kitchen. He placed you on top of the counter and you pulled him closer wanting to feel his growing bulge against your core. Jungwoo broke the kiss placing his forehead on yours.

"Princess, what brought this on?" He asked breathless tucking some stray strands of hair behind your ears.

"Just because. Do I need a reason to kiss my boyfriend?" You asked him as you press a short kiss to his lips. You started pressing kisses on his jaw at the same time palming his hardening cock. "I want you to fuck me Jungwoo." You stated boldly and Jungwoo moaned closing his eyes in pleasure.

"Princess stop please." Jungwoo placed his forehead on your shoulder trying to control his desire. Your body instantly went cold you can't believe what you have heard. You slid down the counter and Jungwoo reached out to hold your wrist but you moved your hand away.

"Are you disgusted with me Jungwoo? Is that why you don't want to have sex with me? Cause I've been sleeping around before our relationship." You accused him livid; hurt pouring out with every syllable.

"Princess I would never be dis-" You didn't let him finish you turned and walked away from him heading towards the door.

"Princess don't leave let me-" That was the last word you heard from him slamming the door closed at your shared apartment. You ran as fast as you can to the elevator. You drove to Sicheng's place where he and Lucas were having a movie marathon. You stormed to the sofa where they are sitting. Sicheng and Lucas already know that you are in a bad mood just by the sour look on your face.

"Oh oww someone's in her period." Lucas teased you.

"You two go get dressed we're gonna fvcking drink our ass off." They were left with no choice knowing not to oppose you when you get into one of these moods or else you will throw the biggest tantrum that will be the cause of complaint filed by Sicheng's neighbors against him.

Three Jack Daniel's later and an assortment of cocktail drinks littered on the table you are occupying the three of you are utterly and devastatingly wasted. Even Sicheng who has the highest alcohol tolerance is starting to giggle at every little thing you and Lucas are saying.

"Jungwooss thinkss thad I have STDs he dont wanna banggg mee someboddy hang me." You say in a slur. "I am the most top one pretty." Sicheng just giggled again in response.

"Nahhhh you using condomms right? We the advocates of safe sexxx." Lucas shouted the last sentence catching the attention of other bar-goers. Sicheng dialed Jiwon's cell.

"Babbbbyyy I am soo drunkk!" Sicheng can't help but giggle on the phone. Jiwon asked where he is concerned about Sicheng's state of drunkness. After making fun of yourselves for another fifteen minutes Jungwoo came to the rescue before the three of you could make any more scene. Jungwoo attended to you first kneeling so that he'll be at your eye level trying to gauge how far off drunk are you. Your vision is blurry but still seeing him concerned for you makes you forget about the fight you had earlier.

"Hey Handsome why are you here?" You smiled and proceeded to caress his cheek with your fingers.

"I am looking for my girlfriend. She's mad at me -" Jungwoo seized your hand with his pressing his cheek further into your palms looking at you pleading eyes." and I already miss her."

"Take me away then." You throw your arms at Jungwoo's shoulders.

Jungwoo started carrying you in a bridal position. You circled your arms around his neck and leaned all your weight to him causing Jungwoo to almost lose his balance. "Princess don't do that we'll fall if you do that again." You burrowed your head deeper to his neck littering kisses at the juncture where it meets his collarbone. Lucas who was mostly talking to himself and shouting at no one saw that you are being taken away. In his drunkness he didn't recognized that it was Jungwoo and thought you are being kidnapped. He forced himself to catch up with Jungwoo walking in long strides almost slipping a few times due to his dizziness he pulled at Jungwoo's shoulder strong enough to make Jungwoo face him with you slumping in Jungwoo's arms.

"Hey Pervert! Where are you taking Baobei? You have to go through me first." Lucas took a deep breath dramatically as if gathering strength and got into a fighting stance like Bruce lee boucing on the balls of his feet, flinging his arms periodically jabbing into nothing.

"Yukhei my luvvvvv save me from this godawful creature." You dramatically put the back of your hand at your forehead speaking in a theatrical voice playing along with Lucas' delusions.

"Baobei I am coming I'll-" Lucas shouted attracting the crowd's attention. Jungwoo interrupted him before he makes an even bigger scene. "Lucas man, it's Jungwoo. _________'s boyfriend."

"Oh" Lucas was suddenly dumbfounded. "Hi, man nice to meet you I am Yukhei but you can call me Lucas. I am _______'s bestfriend." Lucas scratched his head and smiled sheepishly before passing out on the floor. Jungwoo sighed with Sicheng giggling by himself at the table like he was exposed to some substance to Lucas passed out on the floor he didn't know that liking you would be so troublesome. Jungwoo looked at you in his arms as you scrunch your nose in drunken slumber. Even when you reek of alcohol he found you endearing.

"You're so lucky Princess that I like you a lot." He said as he kissed your scrunched up nose

a/n: Check out my other works for NCT here:masterlist.

part III (2): It was a peaceful morning until someone shrieked so loud that even the neighbors occupying the other units was startled. It was Sicheng who produced that godawful noise finding that he is naked in bed with none other than Lucas who was equally as naked as him sprawled at the other half of the bed. Lucas drowsily opened his eyes seeing Sicheng on the other side of the bed clutching the bed sheets at his chest looking as if someone has harrased him. He looked down and saw that he was only in his underwear and also screamed his lungs out despite having a deeper voice it was as if some girls were having a screaming contest. "What did you to me Winwin ge?" Lucas asked horrified. "What do you mean? I should ask you that I woke up with no clothes on?" Sicheng pointed at him accusingly. "Did we-" Lucas swallowed and looked at everywhere but at Sicheng.