#they better get burnt by the sun from how much it’ll shine

[rebecca--barnes]

“The sun will shine on us again”

[prof-peach]

Hello again! Thank you so much for answering my ask. I always light up when I see one of my questions on your feed. I really wish I had known about the moisture thing before, because my next door neighbor is retired and he hates rain. So much so that he has his Houndoom use Sunny Day whenever it so much as gets overcast. It’s never caused me a problem before, but Venus is not happy about the dryness. I’ve got a pot for her under shade and I’ve been misting her with a rain water facsimile that I found the recipe for online, but her movement is severely limited and she got burnt yesterday from going out in the sun while wet. My Poliwag knows Rain Dance, but the Houndoom is a retired Champion Pokémon, and he’s simply no match. I tried to talk to him about it, but he just yelled at me, said he would sic his Houndoom on me if me or my team stepped on his property again, and slammed the door in my face. So my question is, what are my options here? Am I going to have to move to somewhere else with more considerate neighbors? Can the police make him stop? The Rangers maybe? Using Sunny Day that much in one area can’t be good for the local Pokémon, right? Like I said, the Houndoom is ex-Champion, so his Sunny Day has quite the range.

Yeahhhhh people can be awful right? I had to delete my first two attempts at answering this, it was just too full of bad language haha! Don’t be like me, handle this calmly.

So first off, how he hasn’t been caught by law enforcement yet is beyond me, and now you know he’s doing this, just report the guy. He’s basically messing with the natural environment and putting stress on an ecosystem not built for what he’s throwing at it. Too much of anything, rain or shine, will be damaging to an average location. That he’s an ex champion means he will be slapped with a bigger more official punishment, usually a big hefty fine and a serious black mark on his records, and could even have his Pokemon removed from his custody for putting the local environment in danger because of his selfish actions. There’s some serious laws about using moves like that outside of battles, and doing so to purposefully control and change natural ecosystems will lead him to probably be taken to court for crimes against the environment itself. Police, rangers, gym leaders, professors, all have authority to step in, so contact the nearest ones, and be aware, he sounds awful, tell them he’s outwardly aggressive and they’ll post a strong Pokemon close to your home to keep an eye out for you, just in case he takes this out on you. If you feel you are in danger, go to a friends house and hold out there. I doubt he’d be so stupid but you really can’t judge situations like this.

Secondly, the old fart has to sleep, as does his Pokemon, so using rain dance at night with some buckets put out, or a rain collector installed, will fill up your stores, and even if he brings the sun back in the day, the night has had some cool relief from the heat, AND you end up with some rain water. If his Pokemon wakes up and repeats the attack, again, call authorities, no Pokemon that strong should be allowed to roam outside alone, Dion whatever it wants, especially if the old man is asleep. It’s dangerous to everyone to allow any species to wander around freely, especially those who affect the local environment so heavily.

If I was you I’d stand your ground, he won’t like the rain and move, he’s some ex-champ right? He can shell out money to leave, go live in the desert or something, he should have the cash after all his battle days. Not everyone’s so bold, and if you feel like leaving would suit you better, perhaps it’s time. Regardless, he’s awful, you can totally get him told off, and if his behaviour continues despite warnings and fines, he will be faced with jail time.

As for the burnt bod, don’t worry too much, it’ll repair in time, you may find bits shed and skin flakes to reveal fresh healthy growth, but it’ll take time, and a little patience.

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Just saw that I hit 200 followers! I didn’t expect that even in my wildest dreams, so thank you so much for those of you who follow me, like/retweet my posts!! 🥰

Thanks aside, enjoy this chapter! I ended up not making it as angst as I intended it to be, so lucky you!

In which she makes a friend, Part Eight

Cassian’s headache was going to kill him.

The past week had been exhausting. Azriel had left only a day ago, leaving Cassian with more work and more troubled thoughts regarding the advance of the rebels.

At least now he had something to occupy his time during his sleepless nights, preferring to work instead of simply staring at his bedroom’s wall until the first rays of sunrise appeared.

Cassian was also worried about Kaelin. The young Illyrian had dismissed Nesta’s worried look, simply stating that his hair had been bothering him and that a few bruises were common. He had only been unfortunate enough to receive most of the blows on his face.

Both Cassian and Azriel had confirmed Kaelin’s words, but he had caught Nesta whispering with the young Illyrian when they thought nobody was looking, and Cassian was starting to get worried that Kaelin was hiding something.

Nesta also occupied his thoughts. Now more than ever.

Although she had actually sided with Azriel, both messing with him non stop — Azriel’s dark humour having surprisingly matched perfectly with Nesta’s ironic one — Cassian would see how she sometimes appeared to be lost in thought, becoming a little quieter once in a while, no doubt with her mind busy with Kaelin.

Cassian had to discover what was happening. He had to make sure that Nesta’s rare and easy smiles — even the way her stormy blue eyes softened more than less nowadays — would not disappear. She deserved all the happiness in the world. As did Kaelin.

But first, he had to rid himself of the nasty headache that had been bothering him all day.

“Now I know why Azriel rubs his temple so often” Cassian thought as he made his way for the healers tents, rubbing his own temple in a vain attempt to ease the pounding inside his head.

As he walked further into the tent, the smell of different herbs assaulted him, and Cassian took a deep breath, an expecting scent he could not name laying a blanket of calmness over him, easing his pain.

“Somebody give me some salt! An evil spirit has arrived!” Cassian heard a familiar grumpy voice shout.

“I missed you too Esmée” he said, stopping near the table where the matron of the healers appeared to be making a complicate looking potion.

“Bah, missed me! You missed coming here and charming my healers to give you extra bandages to wrap your fists, that’s what happened” Esmée replied, snorting.

“You usually need to wrap your hands or else they’ll get hurt even more. Am I wrong ladies?” Cassian playfully said, winking at one of the healers, who blushed.

“Hurt hands!! As if!” Esmée indignantly exclaimed “You are one vain warrior who does it for the aesthetics in four out of five cases!”

“And stop flirting with my healers! You’re distracting them!” she added, hitting him on the head with the small wooden stick she used to grind the herbs.

Cassian gave a surprised yelp, earning giggles from the healers.

“Great, now I’ll have a pump in the morning along with a headache” he thought, massaging his head.

“Esmée” Cassian charmingly tried, giving the old female his best puppy eyes “Uyara of the healers”

“Flattery will not get you anywhere kunumim” she huffed, but Cassian could see her eyes shining with secret delight.

Uyara meant Lady, owner and even dominant in the Illyrian tong. And Cassian may use flattery, but he was no liar while doing it. Esmée was the best healer the Illyrians had. She knew secrets long lost, passed only from matron to matron of camp. And her abilities were just as legendary. She truly was the Lady of the Healers.

“This time I did not come here to ask for bandages” Cassian said “I was wondering if you had any herbs for headaches. Mine is killing me”

Esmée surprised Cassian by raising her hands and cupping his cheeks, bringing his face down so she could inspect it.

“You have dark shadows under your eyes. Your eyes are tired, and you are a little anaemic” the old healer’s voice got unusually soft, maternal concern lacing it “You work too much. Have you been having trouble sleeping kunumim?”

Cassian felt his chest tighten a bit at Esmée’s words.

It had been a long time since someone had noticed how tired he felt beneath his happy facade. Since someone had cared to stop and really look at him.

Cassian loved his family. But even around them he felt the need to keep up the appearances.

He had to be the funny one. The one always there to make sure everyone was happy and comfortable.

Cassian sometimes wanted to scream. Wanted to cry and complain.

Wanted someone to hug him and let him slip his mask off.

Wanted someone who loved him enough to hear his troubles.

But Cassian could not afford to be selfish right now.

He had a camp to take care of.

“I’m fine Uyara” smiling weakly, Cassian gently took her hands off his face, squeezing them in reassurance.

Esmée clicked her tong in annoyance, her mean and grumpy attitude back in an instant, as if she was not worried at all about him.

“Lucky for you,” Esmée said, motioning for him to follow her to the back of the tent “we have recently made some painkiller tonics”

Her next words, however, got lost when Cassian smelled that calming scent again.

Closer now, he could clearly smell lavender and vanilla, a familiar scent.

And that’s when he saw her.

Nesta, an apron tied over her dark green dress, her sleeves pushed back — Cassian caught himself staring at her bare forearms and resisting the urge to run his fingertips softly against her milky skin — and brows knotted in concentration while she filled some vials.

“Nesta, grab two of those vials and pack them for this headstrong Commander”

At Esmée’s words, Nesta raised her head and looked in their direction, stormy blue eyes widening slightly when she spotted Cassian beside the healer.

“So this is where she disappears to everyday after lunch”

Nesta quickly recomposed herself, effortlessly filling the small glass flasks and placing them in a little pouch, Cassian not taking his eyes off of her for a single moment.

Esmée huffed in approval, but when Nesta tried to hand it to her, the healer refused it.

“You also need to rest. You think I did not see you dozing off? Or the way you were blinking heavily while mixing the herbs?”

Cassian’s attention peaked at that, and he noticed the shadows underneath Nesta’s eyes. They were faint, fainter than his, but they were still there.

“I’m fine Esmée” Nesta strongly argued, not backing off.

“You’re off duties until you’ve had some sleep and that’s final” the matron replied “What’s the problem with you two and not sleeping? It’s not as if you don’t have a bed”

And before they even knew what had happened, Esmée had ripped the apron from around Nesta’s waist, threw her coat and banned them from the tent.

“If that overexcited pitanga appears I’ll let him know that you already left with the Commander” with this last warning, Esmée left them outside, both a little lost.

Nesta was the first one to recompose herself. She wore her coat and started walking back to the cabin, not waiting to see if Cassian was following her.

Which he obviously was, effortlessly catching up to her given his long strides.

“You seem to be very fond of walking” he tried, casting her a side glance.

“I have no wings” she snorted “How else am I supposed to get anywhere then?

“Is that an invitation to fly with me Ness?” Cassian said, half joking and half expectant of her answer.

He would not lie and say the opportunity to hold her close to him did not tempt him. And he would not lie further by saying he had not been dying to show her how beautiful Illyria could be from above.

“No” she swiftly cut his offer down, staring straight ahead.

“It’ll be fun” he tried again.

“What’s so fun about making someone sick?” Nesta snapped, and Cassian remembered the last time she had flown.

How Rhysand had purposely flew faster than she could possibly stomach, no doubt a petty move from his side.

“I would fly very slowly” he tentatively said “And not even that high”

Cassian only received silence in answer, but he could tell from the way Nesta was pursing her lips that she was tempted to say yes.

“It is faster this way” Cassian added.

“Fine,” Nesta finally answered, a hint of annoyance in her voice “but one smart trick from you and you’ll wake up with burnt eyebrows tomorrow”

“I wouldn’t dare and try to make Your Highness uncomfortable”

They stopped walking, Cassian hesitating to take the first step and embrace Nesta.

The same could not be said about her, however, who boldly got close to him.

“So? Are we going or not?”

“Eager aren’t we sweetheart” Cassian gathered her on his arms, Nesta lacing her own around his shoulders “If I knew you were so desperate to hold me I would have brought this ideia up sooner”

Before she could throw a barbed reply his way, Cassian opened his wings and shot to the sky, feeling Nesta tighten her hold and bury her head on his shoulder.

Siphons flashing, Cassian pulled a shield over them, the air that high up being colder, specially when autumn was nearing its end.

He may or may not have taken the opportunity to discreetly take a better look at Nesta.

At the way the few strands of her hair had escaped her braid, tickling his cheek as they were blew by the wind.

At the way she got braver and raised her head a little, her blue eyes the colour of the cloud free sky and sparkling with wonder.

“It’s beautiful” and Nesta’s voice was so soft, so full of wonder, that Cassian imagined if that was how she had been before the war. When she was human and all she wanted was to keep Elain happy and travel the world.

“It is”

But he was not looking at the view.

Was not looking at how the sun sparkled against the shiny peeks of the mountains, how the vast green forest beneath them looked like a gigantic carpet laid over Illyria.

Cassian was looking at the female on his arms, savouring every precious second of the moment and thanking the gods he had promised to fly slowly, just so he could hold Nesta longer.

Letting her go once they were back on the ground was one of the hardest things he had ever done, missing her warmth and her jasmine and vanilla scent as if he was missing one of his own limbs.

He hoped he affected her the same way she affected him.

Hoped she felt even a minuscule fragment of what he felt for her.

Hoped he had not misunderstood the way she too seemed to regret letting him go.

~•~

Cassian didn’t even have to take the medicine for his headache, that annoying pounding having disappeared mid flight.

Nesta Archeron, he decided, was the best medicine he could have.

And it seemed that luck was finally on his side, for when they had arrived and Cassian asked her if she’d like to eat something, Nesta surprisingly said yes, going as far as to put the kettle on the stove to boil some water for tea.

Feeling bashful and enjoying his luck, Cassian attempted to make some small talk with Nesta, asking her about her day, what she liked about learning to be a healer, what she thought about Esmée.

He had been scared she’d shut him out, but she answered his questions with no problem, asking him some in return.

Cassian’s day had started awful but seemed to be walking towards being the best he’d ever had, specially when he appeared in living room after a warm bath and spotted Nesta, once again sitting comfortably on the couch — one of her new books laid on her lap — hair in a simple braid and wearing that mouth watering leggings, combined with a white tunic that drew attention to her eyes.

The fireplace was, as usual, empty.

Cassian could not understand how Nesta managed to make do with only fur blankets, specially now that winter was fast approaching.

“The fireplace.... why don’t you like to light it?”

That caught Nesta’s attention, and he saw how she flinched.

Dangerous. It was a dangerous ground that he was walking on.

They had only talked about futilities so far. But to ask her something so personal, something he suspected was related to the war and her traumas...

He didn’t want to see her back to the dark and empty place she used to go when she had first arrived, eyes faraway and empty.

“You don’t have to answer that if you’re not comfortable, but I’m... worried” Cassian flapped his wings a little, an evident sign of his anxiousness “Winter in Illyria is ruthless”

“It was no different from when I was human” Nesta snapped, but her voice had a slight tremble to it.

“It is. And you...we won’t be able to go through it if we don’t have a fire burning” he walked towards the sofa, daring to sit down beside Nesta, but holding himself back from touching her hand, which clutched the hardcover of the book “Even the wards and walls here are not enough to keep the cold away. Winter at Illyria won’t be like winter in the human land. Or in Velaris”

Nesta only stared and stared at the fireplace, as if it would light up any minute. After some time, she spoke, her voice almost a whisper.

“The sound that the fire makes...when it burns...it reminds me of bones” she shuddered “Of bones breaking”

Her father’s neck.

Maybe even his wings.

He hadn’t known.

Hadn’t known and last solstice she had stayed all night, without complaining about the noise. Without asking to diminish the fire or even make it soundless — Cassian knew that Rhysand, Amren or even Mor would be able to do it. But she had not asked to. Had not wanted to appear weak. To most probably not worry Feyre.

Nesta had been suffering all this time.

Alone.

“I... I have no magic. At least not any apart from the killing power every Illyrian has. So I’m not able to make the fire soundless”

“But you could do it” he added softly “If you lit the fire with your powers... I think you’d be able to turn the sound of the wood snapping off. The fire would be yours to tame. To control”

“You think it would work?” she asked, and Cassian felt a sliver of hope in her tone.

Control. It was all about control. And if Nesta felt like she was in control of the situation, she would be able to support a burning fireplace, sound or not.

“I think you are able to do whatever you wish to, but the first step is to try”

“Grab the wood then” Nesta said.

And Cassian did. He piled the wood neatly, and Nesta moved to stand in front of the fireplace, standing her hands in front of her.

“Just like we practiced” Cassian softly said, moving behind her, his front only a couple of inches from her back “Reach deep within you for it, and then redirect it to the wood”

He could picture Nesta knotting her eyebrows in concentration, and her silver flames soon appeared on her hands.

“Good, now project them towards the fire” Cassian’s voice took the tone he usually used during training, a way to ground her.

Nesta’s flames got brighter and with a little push of arms they flew towards the wood, burning it.

It started small, but soon the fire was roaring, the crack crack of wood filling the air.

“Now turn it off Nesta”

“I-I can’t” she said, her whole body starting to tremble “I don’t know how”

“You can. And you will” he placed a hand on her lower back, like he had once done a lifetime ago in a war tent “You’re the one in control. The flames obey you and no else”

Nesta’s breath was coming in pants now, but the cracking of the fire gradually began to get quieter.

“Just like that Ness” he encouraged, daring to get a little closer, until his front almost touched her back “You’re doing amazing xe nhia”

With a grunt, the sound of the burning wood died out completely, and Nesta staggered back into Cassian’s chest, the flames around her fists also disappearing.

He held her against him, filled with awe and proud of her for meeting her fear head on.

Nesta straightened herself, turning to face Cassian, her blue-gray eyes shining with some hidden emotion.

“Thank you” she whispered, and Cassian swore he had never heard more precious words.

“It was all you” he shrugged “You don’t have to thank me sweetheart”

“I wouldn’t have tried it if it weren’t for you” she stubbornly replied “So accept my thanks and stop being so headstrong”

“Me? Headstrong?” Cassian chuckled, his arms tightening around her “Aren’t you talking about yourself Nessie?”

Nesta snorted, placing her hands on his chest and Cassian prayed to the gods that she wouldn’t notice how fast his heart was beating.

Being so close to Nesta did things to his heart.

And to other parts of him.

“Go make dinner you stupid bat” she said, pushing him away “Kaelin should be arriving, and I bet he’ll be starving after training”

As if on cue, the door opened and the Illyrian walked in.

“Hey...” Kaelin greeted weakly, and Cassian noticed fresh bruises on the kid’s face, the older ones barely healed.

“Kaelin!” Nesta exclaimed, practically running towards the young Illyrian “What happened?”

“Oh this is nothing” he shrugged, wincing slightly “Just lost at an one on one spar today”

“Kaelin...” Nesta tried to touch him, but the kid swiftly backed off, avoiding her.

Cassian saw the look of hurt flashing on Nesta’s face before she concealed it beneath a mask of coolness.

“I’ll just wash up and then help with dinner” saying that, Kaelin quickly left the room.

It seemed that Cassian’s luck could only go so far, for his worries about Kaelin seemed to have doubled.

•

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[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: I Told You So

Request: “another one!!! you and luke (and roxy) spend the weekend at a lake (he totally loves a good lake weekend i can feel it) and you warn him that he’d burn if he didn’t put sunscreen on but “no babe i’m good!” and the poor man ends up red as a lobster and nearly cries when you laugh at him as you help him rub aloe on his bright red back hehe :^)”

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @saintd0lce , @ogmilkis  @reidswords , @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave ,  @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1​ , @pinkdiamond1016

Word count:  2.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: Thank you @reidswords​ for the cutest prompt ever oh my GOSH. vacation luke is like... the dream. so iconic. i had so much fun writing this, enjoy!!! 

“W-w-wait!” you hurry out the door attempting to carry the cooler.  

It’s heavy, filled with food and drinks that’ll hold you and Luke over for the next three days.  The weight of it makes you stumble. 

At the sound of your plea, Luke steps away from the SUV, just shy from closing the trunk.  Once he sees you struggling to lift the cooler, he rushes down the driveway to meet you. 

“Here- give me that,” he takes the strap and transfers the bag to his own shoulder with ease.  

“Thanks,” you mumble, only slightly annoyed by how strong he was.  

“Is that everything?” he asks, waiting for you to nod before closing the hatchback.  “Alright then, I think we’re good to go.”

Spending the long weekend at the lake was exactly the kind of thing you and Luke needed.  With promises from Luke to leave his work phone behind, and no other added distractions that often plagued your lives, you were confident it would be a peaceful getaway. 

On his way by, Luke presses a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile.  You think that getting to be alone together was what you were looking forward to most.    

…

You get to the lake house and the sun is shining and the air is fresh and warm.  It’s a nice change from what you’re used to in the city.  

You look around at your surroundings. Situated in what felt like the middle of nowhere was the tiny lake house- it’s got a wrap around porch, somewhere you can picture you and Luke drinking coffee the next few mornings. 

“You happy, baby?” Luke asks, coming and hugging you from behind.  He sways slightly with you in his embrace, his hand placed securely on your hips.  

You nod in response.  “I’m happy.”

“Good. Let’s get our stuff out and get inside. Think it’s time we christen the place.”

You laugh and pull away, playfully nudging his shoulder. “We just got here!” you laugh. 

Luke’s already heading around the car to get your luggage from the trunk.  When he comes back around, two suitcases in hand, he just shrugs.  “You’re lucky I was able to wait this long.” 

He starts heading towards the door, and you just kind of marvel at him as he goes, grateful to have this long weekend and grateful to have Luke. 

….

You wake up in the morning to sunlight pouring through the balcony windows. Luke is standing in front of the mirror with only a towel around his hips, which is an unbelievably pleasant sight.  

You don’t even realize you’re staring until Luke says, “Good morning.” He’d caught you gawking at him through the mirror, but he turns around smiling. 

You drop your head against the pillow, keeping your eyes trained on him.  “Morning,” you mumble. “Did you already run?” you ask in disbelief. 

Luke nods innocently, his damp curls sticking to his forehead.  God, he was really something. 

You shake your head at his response, wondering how the hell your boyfriend managed to stay so motivated, even on vacation.  But you don’t ask more.  Instead you sit up in bed and rub your sleepy eyes.  “What’s on the agenda for the day?”

A giant grin spreads across Luke’s face as he pulls a pair of his swim trunks from his suitcase.  “It’s a surprise.  Get your suit on.”

The surprise turns out to be a boat that Luke rented out for the entire weekend.  After throwing on your swimsuit and packing a small tote, the two of you head out onto the water.  Luke drives the boat to the center of the lake before cutting the engine.  

It’s early, only 10 AM, but the sun is already beating heavily down.  You pull the bottle of lotion from your bag, and start rubbing it everywhere you can reach on your skin.   

“Can you get my back?” you ask Luke.  He takes the bottle from you and squeezes a fair amount of sunscreen into his hand.  He rubs it in, almost lazily, using broad circles as his palm travels up and down your skin.  When he gets to your lower back, he gives the fleshy part of your hips a playful pinch that makes you arch forward.

“Hey!” you protest, snatching the sunscreen from him.  “Okay, your turn,” you say, already squeezing some of the cream into your hand. 

“No babe, I’m good,” he tells you, shaking his head. 

“Luke-” you scorn, “you need sunscreen.”

He scrunches his nose up at you, which he knows is your kryptonite.  Anytime he did that, he knew you’d cave.  “This golden, Puerto Rican skin doesn’t burn, baby,” he promises with a wink.  

Your day on the water is perfect.  It’s split equally between lounging on the boat, swimming in the cool, refreshing water, and laughing as Luke drove around like a maniac, doing donuts in the lake.  

Currently, the two of you were laying on the seat at the edge of the boat, Luke’s arm slung lazily around you as you traced light patterns on his bare chest.  

“This would be a fun thing to do with the team,” he says.  “Have Matt and JJ bring their kids, we could rent a tube or something.”

You nod, “For sure.  The kids would love the boat.  And they’d love how crazily Uncle Luke drove it, too.”

Luke chuckles.  “Oh c’mon!  Crazy, maybe.  But fun?  Definitely.”

You can feel sweat droplets forming on your back, the hot sun relentless out on the open water.  So, you scoot away from Luke’s loose embrace and announce, “Alright, I’m jumping in again.”   

Without hesitating, you walk towards the back of the boat and dive into the water.  Instantly, your body temperature goes down, and by the time you resurface, you’re feeling tremendously refreshed.  You swim around for a few minutes before climbing up the ladder and onto the boat once again.  

You grab your towel off from the back of the driver’s seat and wipe your face.  Luke’s in the same spot you left him, except now he’s flipped so that he’s laying on his stomach. 

You walk over, preparing to lay on him as a joke to get him wet, but instead you pause when you see the state of Luke's back.  The skin is turning a bright shade of pink. 

“Baby, your back is burned,” you tell him.  

Luke grunts in acknowledgement, but makes no effort to move. 

“Luke, I’m serious, you’re really red.  We should get out of the sun.”

Luke turns his head towards you, and squints against the harsh rays.  “It’s fine, I’m sure it’ll fade.”

You roll your eyes at his stubbornness.  “Fine,” you tell him.  “I think I’m burning though, so can we head back?”

Luke sits up, nodding.  As he climbs into the driver’s seat and starts steering the boat back towards the dock, you smirk, pleased that he had given in to you. 

You can feel the itch of sand on your skin and you honestly can’t wait to get back to the house to shower it off.  

You’re under the cool water for less than a minute before Luke is climbing in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and smiling into your neck.  He smells like sweat and salt and the alcohol he’d been drinking earlier and all you want to do is kiss him.  You turn around in Luke’s arms and hug him back.  Luke’s cheeks look a little flushed and his nose is slightly red right on the end.  You poke it playfully.  

“Feeling the burn yet?” you ask. 

Luke scrunches his nose and shakes his head.  He looks stupidly adorable before pulling you closer and kissing you softly. 

…

You’re wearing one of Luke’s shirts and your hair is still wet from your shower when you wander into the living room.  Luke is sitting on the couch, one arm outstretched across the back of it as he flips through channels on the television mindlessly. 

You join him, making sure to snuggle extra close.  You burrow into his side, your arm winding behind him.  Instinctually, you start rubbing his back gently, like you did most nights, but you stop when he abruptly flinches and lurches forward. 

“Ah,” he hisses.  

“What’s wrong?” you ask, scooting slightly away from him. 

“Just stung a little,” he mumbles.  

But you frown suspiciously.  You’d barely touched him.  

“You’re burned, aren’t you?” you ask.  But Luke shakes his head. 

“I’m fine, it’s not burnt,” he argues.  You know better.  

“Take off your shirt,” you order him. 

“What?”

“Luke, take it off.”

Reluctantly, Luke peels off the fabric covering his torso, causing his flaming red, sun burnt skin to become visible to you. 

Luke groans when he sees your eyes widen, finally seeming to acknowledge that he had a sunburn.  . You’re an idiot for not wearing sunscreen,” you say. 

“How bad is it?” 

You smile slyly, your ‘I-told-you-so’ attitude coming to the forefront of your personality.  “Your golden, Puerto Rican skin is burnt to a crisp.”

…

You were in a deep sleep when you hear Luke shifting around on the mattress beside you.  Briefly, you wondered if you were dreaming, until he got out of bed altogether.  You force your eyes open, frowning to see that his spot next to you was empty.  

You find him in the bathroom, digging through the medicine cabinet.  His curls are poking in every direction, like he’d been tossing and turning against the pillow for a while. 

“Can’t sleep?” you ask. 

He shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” you say gently.  “Is it the burn?”

He nods, chuckling softly.  “Yeah, can’t quite seem to get comfortable.”

You clear your throat dramatically.  “I don’t mean to say ‘I told you so’ but…” your voice trails off. 

Luke turns to look at you, his eyes rolling.  “Go ahead,” he urges, using his hand to gesture towards you.  

“But I told you so,” you spit out quickly, the smug grin on your face spreading even wider.  “There, now that I have that out of my system, go lay down on your stomach.”

“What’re you-”

“Just do it,” you interrupt, pushing past him.  “I’ve already proven once today that I’m right all the time, so stop questioning me.”

“Thought you said it was out of your system,” Luke grumbles, but he obliges and leaves the bathroom. 

You close the medicine cabinet he was poking through and open the cabinet underneath the sink instead.  You’d put the bottle of aloe you’d bought under there, just in case.  You grab it and head back towards the bedroom. 

Luke had finally listened to you.  He was lying on his stomach, his red back facing up.  His arms were propped underneath the pillow, where his head was resting.  

You climb onto the bed beside him and, without giving him a heads up, climb on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips.  Luke was used to you crawling on top of him frequently, so he barely even reacts. 

“This is gonna be cold,” you tell him, before squeezing a fair amount of the aloe onto his skin. 

Luke hisses into the pillow, but when you begin gently rubbing it into his burn, you notice his shoulders visibly relax.  His skin feels hot against your fingertips, and you can’t imagine how uncomfortable he must be.  You continue to lightly massage the healing gel into his back for the next few minutes, spreading the aloe to as much of the burn as you could, until his breathing steadies and his eyes fall shut.  Only when you hear him start to snore softly do you finally get off of him. 

After putting away the bottle of aloe and washing it’s remnants off from your hands, you join Luke in bed.  

He’s fast asleep, finally at peace beside you.  His sweeping eyelashes and parted lips look so relaxed and for a moment, you just watch him sleep like that, unable to help the smile that spreads across your face.  Because yeah, he was an idiot for not wearing sunscreen today, but he was your idiot, and that’s all that mattered. 

[is-that-another-soulmate-au]

Sun Touched Zuko AU!!

Tag list @chaoticidiott @mypureessence @fae-tales-personal

This won't be a soulmate AU but it will be Zukka for sure.

Zuko was born sick, so sick in fact that he was going to die. His mother prayed to Agni that he would live, prayed that the sun spirit would save her first born son. In the gardens she held him up to the Setting sun pleading. The suns rays caught in the amber stone on top of the alter set for worship and moved to Zuko's eyes. His hair changed from solid black to a golden blonde, he opened eyes and began to cry. He was touched by the Sun and lived.

Ursa couldnt have been more happy, her son was alive. "My little sunshine" she whispered with tears rolling down her cheeks as she held him close and rocked him in her arms.

When Ozai saw his son's golden hair he demanded that it be dyed black, but was willing to compromise when Ursa suggested they wait until he turns 5 so that the dyes don't harm him.

The first time they dyed his hair he asked his mom why, his bright molten eyes looking at her with confusion "because your father wants you to feel safer my sunshine, people will stare at you with that bright shining hair of yours"

"Oh, okay" was his only response that day. He never questioned it anymore when they touched up his roots weekly.

After his mother left him he felt alone in the world, his dad still staining his golden hair each week with more and more ink. All the while berating him when he couldnt control his fire well. Even with being touched by the spirit and having powerful fire he couldnt manage to control it, couldnt understand how to. Until master Piandou taught him swords and he applied his teachings to his fire.

The first time he used his swords to control the fire Piandou was more than impressed "Prince Zuko! That was amazing!"

"Thank you Master, thinking of the swords as an extension helped me control the flames better" his smile soon faded when his father appeared

"Yes, great work Zuko, I am pleased to see you have learned how to control your flames, however mixing these arts in this fashion is unacceptable. Come with me"

After that he wasn't allowed back at Piandou's unless he was accompanied by either his father, or an advisor to make sure he practiced correctly.

On the day of his fated Agni Kai Zuko had just gotten his roots retouched before entering the war meeting. When his father burnt him for speaking out of term his tears felt like lava running down his cheeks. He could smell the fresh dye burning and it hurt his lungs.

His Uncle immediately took him under his wing when he was banished "Zuko, my star," his Uncle pleaded when they were at the western airtemple "i need to dress your wound, the sun spirit would not want you to lose your eye"

Zuko reluctantly let his Uncle clean and dress his wound several times on their travels until it healed and scarred over. When it finally healed over Iroh smiled "there you go sunshine" he said as he wiped the tears forming in Zuko's good eye away "do not cry Prince Zuko, you are safe"

He still dyed his roots every week to uphold his place as prince. He did not know that his golden hair was his own symbol or royalty, that the sun chose him. Sure he knew the sun saved him, but he could not understand that it was because he was chosen.

When he arrived at the South pole and discovered the Avatar, he felt a breath of relief wash over him. He was going home, but he heavily underestimated the Avatar's abilities and lost him.

Soon he started a cat and mouse game with the monk and his two southern water tribe friends. After the northpole he slacked on dying his hair, not because he didnt want to, he simply didn't have the resources to do so. So his roots started to grow in gold.

"Well your looking golden Zuzu" Azula's voice startled Zuko when he walked into the hut they were staying in.

"Azula, what are you doing here" he glared at his younger sister

"You know, im my country. We greet one another before asking questions" she responded coldly "i was just passing through"

"To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit Princess Azula?" Iroh piped into the conversation

"No wonder you two click, always so quick and to the point. Father sent me, family is suddenly very important to him." She turned her head to look out the window "father regrets your banishment. He wants you home"

Zuko was frozen in place "father regrets?"

"I can see you need time to think this through, ill be by to collect you in the morning" Azula smiled softly before a flash of worry flashed on her face for a split second as she walked out the door.

When Azula's true intentions were revealed Zuko and Iroh managed to flee from her and her soldiers. When they stopped at the river to cut their hair Zuko looked at Iroh when he watched the inky hair fall into the river "your gold hair will conceal your identity fairly well my nephew"

"Yeah, it'll hide me pretty well" nobody had seen Zuko with his golden hair before. He hadnt seen his hair fully gold since age five.

On their travels his hair grew fairly fast now that it wasnt being dyed so often. It would catch the eye of several earth kindom citizens when he passed through towns. When he and Iroh were sitting against a building with a hat in front of them a young woman approached them and slipped a few gold pieces in "I know this might sound creepy, and I'm only asking this because I cannot resist. But may I kiss your hair sir? You can say no, I won't take my money back."

Zuko flushed a light shade of pink and scratched the back of his head "uhm, s-sure?" He mumbled out and leaned his head towards her. She placed a tender almost motherly kiss to the top of his head.

"Oh, your hair is so beautiful sir, it's like a million rays of sun. I wish you luck, i can only spare a little but if you'd take these small meals Im sure they'd help you" she said while offering two wrapped meals

They accepted and thanked her with small bows "what a nice young lady, huh?" Iroh said and nudged Zuko's arm

"Yeah, she was very nice"

When Zuko and Iroh found Azula and Aang battling in an abandoned earth town Azula pointed out his hair "wow Zuzu! You look just like a star! Where'd all that ink go?" When the fight ended and Iroh was injured Zukos cheeks felt like magma was pouring from his eyes.

"Zuko, I can hel-" Katara approached them

"LEAVE!" Zuko cried out, turning to Katara with golden tears running down his face.

While on the Ferry to Ba Sing Se Zuko was angry, not angry at anyone or anything in particular, he was just angry. "Hey" the voice of a man at his right side broke his brooding "names Jet"

"Lee" Zuko muttered out how cover name

"Yknow Lee, I hear the captain is eating like a king while we're stuck eating all his left overs" he paused "want to help me... liberate some food rations?"

It didn't take much to convince Zuko to join him. They liberated the food quickly without getting caught. Zuko found himself wandering the the front of the lower deck, leaning on the railing. "You know, as soon as I saw your scar, I knew exactly who you were" he paused as he approached Zuko "youre a refugee, like me. Thing is though, I've never seen hair like yours, let along your eyes."

Jet reached out and brushed Zuko's hair out of his face. "The freedom fighters could use a starlight like you, what do you say?"

Zuko smacked Jets hand away gently "thanks, but no thanks, you don't want me on your team, trust me"

In Ba Sing Se Iroh and Zuko made a life for themselves. They managed to have their own tea shop and apartment. Things were doing great, until Zuko went after the Avatar's bison, mind you he went there originally to take the bison captive, but when he saw that the creature was hurt he sheathed his swords and removed his mask, letting his golden hair free as he approached the bison "hey buddy, are you okay?" His voice was much softer than usual "oh no, here let me help you, this is going to hurt and I'm sorry, but I need to pull out this thorn" he talked to him the whole time he was pulling out thorns, gently rubbing the fur near it to sooth him.

When he pulled all of the thorns out he took out his swords "alright buddy, dont worry about the swords, im going to use them to cut you out of these chains, shhh its okay, you're okay" he continued to talk him through each of the six shackles "there we go big guy, now you need to get out of here, go find your friends- ah! Hey!" Appa knocked him over and gave him a thanks with a big sloppy dog like lick across his torso and face before taking off.

"You did well my nephew" Zuko shot up at his uncle's voice

"Uncle?" His startled voice wavered

"Now lets get you out of here and back home." And that they did.

When they made it back to their apartment Zuko felt dizzy, he held his head in his hand "I dont feel good" he managed to get out before collapsing and breaking a vase

"Zuko!" Iroh shouted as he rushed to his nephew to make sure he didnt hurt himself on any broken glass.

In his Angst coma Sokka heard his mother singing

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me Happy! When skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you, so please don't hide my sunshine away"

His sisters voice mocked his hair "youre hair makes you look like a dandelion, a weed can't take the throne!" Her cackling filled his ears.

There was a blinding light and a woman appeared with flowing gold hair and bright fire eyes "my dear star, why do you let yourself hurt so much?"

"I don't, who are you?"

"I'm Agni my dear, you do know I chose you right?"

"Why?"

"You are special my dear, your mother made sure to get my attention and I am so glad she did" the woman spoke as she placed her hand on his cheek. Filling him with the image of her reaching out to kiss his eyes as a baby. "You are meant for great things little star." Her voice faded as she herself did

He soon woke from his coma with a fresh breath. Taking charge in making sure his Uncle's tea shop did well, and helping him where he could. However Azula soon found them and summoned them to the palace under the guise of serving tea to the king. Things didnt end well and Zuko was thrown into a cave beneath the City with Katara.

"Why would they throw you in here!" Her angry and hurt voice filled his ears as he tried not to make her feel more uncomfortable by staying as far from her as possible.

when she mentioned her mother he turned around and spoke "thats something we have in common"

"What?"

"My mother was my only source of safety... she was the only one who defended me against my sister and my father. And one day my father was ordered to... do something terrible and my mother protected me somehow, I dont know what happened but when I was half awake she told me goodbye and when I fully woke up she was gone."

When they were separated and Azula had Iroh trapped she approached "Zuko, nows your chance to come home. Help me defeat the avatar and you can come home. Without inking your hair. Isnt this what you've always wanted? You'll have your honor back, you'll have fathers love back"

And despite all he had gone through he still chose the path of returning to his father. When he did return his father wanted to dye his hair but Azula spoke up against it "father, if I may. Zuko's hair is a symbol of the fire goddess Agni, if he were to take the thrown it'd be best to show that she has chosen him"

"Yes, that is true. Alright, off with you two"

Reuniting with Mai wasnt smooth, she confessed to him that her and Ty Lee connected and while he was saddened he just smiled "I'm glad you two are with eachother, you work well"

On the day of Black sun, with the information he had learned from Iroh and armed with the fact that his father was practically powerless without his bending. He approached him.

"Zuko, what are you doing here?"

"Im here to tell the truth"

Ozai let out a snort "telling the truth during an eclipse?" He waved off his gaurds "what do you have to say"

"First of all, Azula lied to you, she was the one who shot down the avatar"

"What?! Why would she lie about that?"

"Because the avatars not dead, he's probably leading this invasion right now"

"Get out! Get out if you know what's good for you!"

"Thats another thing, I'm not taking orders from you anymore"

"You will obey me or face the consequences!" As Ozai stood Zuko drew his dual swords and took a stance

"Think again. I am going to speak my mind and you are going to listen"

He went on to question his father "you knew Agni chose me as a child and that was the reason my hair turned gold. You knew this and yet you hid that from the world, you darkened my hair for years, and you have the gull to tell me I was lucky to be born. You! The tyrannical leader set out to destroy the world. you! My own father challenged me to an Agni Kai just for speaking out of term, how could you possibly justify a duel with a child!"

"It was to teach you respect!"

"It was cruel and it was wrong"

"Then you have learned nothing!"

"No! I've learned everything, and I've had to do most of it on my own" he paused "Growing up we were taught that the war was our nations way of spread joy, what an incredible lie that was, the other nations don't love us, they fear us, and they are right to fear us, we've brought the world to an era of hate and suffering, now we need to fill it with one of peace and joy"

"Your uncle has gotten to you hasnt he" Ozai laughed

"Yes, he has, and I've come to another decision, im going to join the avatar, and im going to help him take you down."

After announcing this he turned to leave but stayed to learn about what happened to his mother

"She's alive?" He said in a soft voice as a single golden tear rolled down his cheek

"Perhaps," Ozai paused "now i see that banishment is far too small of a punishment for treason" he said as he gathered lightning and shot it at Zuko who quickly redirected it right back at him before escaping.

After finding that Iroh had broken out of prison Zuko fled the firenation in a small war ballon and followed the Avatar's Sky bison to the western air temples. Their first encounter didn't go so well and he managed to burn Toph's feet but after helping them defeat the assassin and managing to form his words more properly and giving a genuine apology to Toph he was on the team.

Some time after joining and managing to break Sokka's dad, Suki and Chit Sang out of prison they were all sitting around the fire. "So.. uhm Zuko" Aang started

Zuko turned to look at him "yeah?"

"I have to ask, pretty bunch nobody in the firenation has golden blonde hair right?" Zuko absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair at the question

"Yeah, and when you were first chasing us your hair was black, whats up with that?" Sokka added

"Oh, uh, well my hair was always dyed black because my father doesn't like my gold hair..." he paused "when I was born, I was sick, so sick that my parents thought I was going to die. But my mother pleaded with Agni to spare me, she took me to the sun worship alter in the palace gardens at sunset and held me up, pleading. When the last ray of light from Agni, my hair turned golden and I began to cry. So, in a sense the sun gave me my life"

"Like Yue!" Sokka piped up

"Like who?"

"Princess Yue! She was born sick just like you, and the moon spirit saved her. Well, she's the moon spirit now"

"Woah woah wait, is this the girlfriend you said turned into the moon?"

"Yep!"

"Well, just don't go falling for Zuko now, dont want to have your first boyfriend turn into the sun" Suki teased him

"Hey, at least I'd have a full set of spirit lovers"

Zuko's face turned beet red and the group laughed at him. Over the next few weeks of them being in close quarters Zuko found that he was growing feelings for the water tribe boy. Anytime he'd look at him he felt his stomach do a flip. But he didnt have time to think about his feelings.

Even though the sun touched prince tried not to think about Sokka on the mission with Katara, he couldn't help it. When they were returning Katara piped up "I know you like him" she paused to watch his surprised face "its okay you know, its fine if you like him. I dont have like you to let my brother like you. I may be cold to you but im not a monster like your father" she tied off the sentence by staring off "and besides, if Agni chose you, I think you would be safe for Sokka"

When they got back he heard sokka shout "You're back! Thank La youre safe!" Turning to Katara he expected to see Sokka running to hug his sister. Instead he was tackled to the ground with a hug from Sokka "how did it go Katara?" He asked from the ground while quite literally snuggling into Zuko with this hug that was still very much happening.

"I found him, and he was just so pathetic, i couldnt kill him"

Sokka then stood up and helped Zuko to his feet and placed a quick sneaky kiss to his cheek before moving to hug his sister, leaving Zuko frozen in confusion. He remained frozen until Suki came up to him "he's trying to confess silently, he's weird like that, corner him later if you want to hear an actual confession"

He however didn't manage to corner the now seemingly overly flirty blue boy until they were at ember Island. It wasnt until just before bed when Sokka was walking past Zuko's bedroom door. He reached out grabbed Sokka's shirt and yanked him into the room before slamming the door shut and pinning him to it. "What are you doing?"

"Wh-what do you mean? You're the one who dragged me into your room, what are you doing?"

"Dont play dumb with me Sokka, you've been flirting with me since I got back from my trip with your sist-"

"Actually ive been flirting with you since the temples, you just didn't notice until I kissed you"

"You mean until you missed"

"What?"

Zuko smirked "you missed" he mumbled before leaning closer "you went for a kiss but you missed"

They ended up spending the night sharing a room and a bed. When the morning sun peaked through the windows Zuko curled back into sokka who in turn pulled him closer. Both refusing to wake up until Katara knocked on the door and opened it "breakfast is ready, if you two love birds want some warm food you better hury and I better not see any hickeys"

"Ugh! Katara we just cuddled!" Sokka said as he burried his face in Zuko's hair.

Katara simply laughed "alright, but still, hury up."

When the day of the comet came and Zuko had to separate from Sokka he saw the worry in his blue eyes "Ive got this Sokka, Agnj chose me remembe, besides, I've got Katara with me and she's powerful" he placed a quick kiss to Sokka's lips "go take down those ships, and I'll see you by the timd the sun rises tomorrow."

And he was right, even though he was shot with lightning and Sokka broke his leg they both came out of the battle alive and together. When Zuko woke up to find Sokka curled up against him he smiled and let out a soft breath of pink fire. Relief.

"Woah, do that again" Sokka's groggy 'just woke up' voice rumbled against his shoulder

"Sorry I didn't mean to wake you, do you mean this?" He let out another breath of fire, this time a pale purple

"I didn't know you could do other colors of fire"

"Well, I couldn't until I went to the sunwarriors, Agni spoke to me there"

After Zuko's Coronation the firenation began righting their wrongs. It was a long struggle for sure. However two years into his reign with Sokka having practically moved in he found that he would soon have a partner to help him through these struggles.

The day had only just begun but Sokka was dragging Zuko to the turtleduck pond where they often sat together to simply relax. Sokka seemed a little antsy this time though "what's wrong Sokka?"

"Uhm, well, I have something I need to ask you," he paused and reached into his pocket while sinkning down to one knee. Zuko's breath caught in his throat as he saw Sokka pull out a betrothal becklace, the band was made with a fine red silk and the center piece was gold with a carving of a sun with a wave inside of it. "Zuko," he took a shaky breath "you've been by my side for two years now, you've held my hand through war and peace, quite literally, and you've done so while loving me whole heartedly. I can't imagine my life without you in it." Zuko could feel golden tears threatening to fall fram his molten eyes "Zuko, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" He heard himself responding before he could even think "Agni, yes Sokka, of course I'll marry you!"

Sokka moved from his kneeling position to lifting Zuko up into a kiss, holding him right under his rear. Zuko held his face in his hands as he pressed his lips to Sokka's as he was lifted up quite unceremoniously.

Once he was set down Sokka helped him put on the betrothal necklace. He reached up to touch the Golden pendant and smiled up at Sokka with gold tears falling down his cheeks.

Their marraige was held not long after, joining the southern water tribe and the firenation in a strong Union with a mixed culture wedding blues, silvers, reds and golds filled the wedding and reception as well as suns and moons.

Agni smiled down on the wedding that day, her chosen sunshine found his moon.

Yue smiled on them that night as they stood on the balcony holding one another. The boy who protected her finally found his light.

>Woo boy that was a long one! I sure hope you enjoyed it!<

[toothpastecanyon]

Deceive, Distrust, Destroy - Chapter 1

Alcor has grown up with his sister time and time again. It's a chance to relax, to forget for a little while... a chance that can easily be weaponised.

Thank you so much to @feferipeixes for beta reading this!!

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.  

______________________________________________________________

“I need you to save my daughter.”

If there was anything consistent about Alcor, it was how consistently he made the stupidest choices in the multiverse.

That was what Oz’darthic Of Shadows thought, anyway. So many times had she watched Alcor wrap himself in the body of a human child and forgo his power… it made no sense! Where was the benefit? What was his plan? He didn’t even try to mess with the lives of those around him - it was a shameful display, really.

    Shameful, that the most powerful demon in the world was so very weak. If only the tables were turned, if only she could wield the power of the Dreambender… well, those mortals down on Earth would finally get a taste of what demons were truly capable of.

    If only.

But, barring that, she had been hatching up another plan, making deals, playing muse to a few arrogant humans. All the pieces were lining up, and just now, she’s waiting to see if this last one will fall into place - or if it will blow up so catastrophically she won’t take form again until the end of the universe.

    It’s night, in front of a sleepy family house. All the lights are off, but the moon illuminates a man standing before the driveway… and the knife in his hand. His fists ball up as he passes through a flaw in the wards, unlocks the door, steps inside.

For a moment, nothing. Not a sound. Another moment, then-

A scream. Crying, yelling, footsteps rushing down the hallway. The lights flash on and something bangs against the walls, and then it’s all drowned out by him.

Even Oz’darthic flinches a little at Alcor’s terrible roar. To attack a Mizar so brazenly - she doesn’t envy the weaker demon she forced inside. She feels its soul be shredded into tortured mist, and waits with bated breath to see if she’ll be next.

Maybe he’ll think this is too suspicious. Maybe. She can feel how he pauses at how weak, how mindless this demon is - it should have sensed his mark on Mizar and left her be. Why didn’t it? And how did it possess someone? Why-

But then, to Oz’darthic’s eternal relief, a cry. It cuts through the Dreambender’s thoughts, and now he’s rushed over to tend to the helpless mortal… all according to plan.

She curls her lip at that. What a predictable thing Alcor was. No demon should be this easy to trick.

Shaking her head, she steps back into the Mindscape. That was the most important step. There’s still things left to do, portals left to finish, sacrifices yet to receive… but it’ll all fall in place in the coming few years. She’s not worried about any of that. Once Alcor shakes hands with those puny mortals, there’ll be nothing standing between them and a delicious little apocalypse of her own.

“No, can’t you see, she won’t make it to a hospital! It has to be me. I promise this isn’t a trick, she’s special to me… take my hand. Let me save her. Please.”

A flash of blue flames brings a smile to Oz’darthic’s face. It is done.

______________________________________________________________

“Maeve! What’s the ETA on that light?”

“I dunno, I just opened it up!”

“Is it just a burnt out bulb? I hope so. That’s a quick fix.”

“I said, I just opened it up.”

“Sorry.”

    Maeve rolled her eyes as she opened the casing. The wires were all lit up with a flashlight’s beam… but then it shifted away. She glanced back, and saw her brother looking up at the sky.

    “Sun’s going down fast,” he said, and flinched when she smacked his shin. “Huh?”

    “We’ll be here all bloody night if you don’t hold the flashlight steady.”

    “Oh, sorry! This good?”

    “Yeah, keep it there.” She picked up her multimeter with her good hand and leaned in. Dipper watched her for a second, tried to keep the flashlight angled over her shoulder… but his eyes kept being drawn to the sky.

The end of the world had the most beautiful sunsets. The red skies cast deep shadows through the ruined houses, through the cracks in the decaying streets, through the rows of budding crops in the field before him. A little darkness fell on his foot, and he moved it away.

You could never be too careful.

    “Stupid… fecking…”

    “Maeve?”

    “Yeah, hand me the bulb, Dipper.” She stuck her hand out. “You were right. They called us out here to change a bulb.”

    “Why do you sound annoyed?” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a quick fix, isn’t it?”

    “Yeah, it’s so quick they could’ve done it themselves!” The lights flickered on, bathing the crops in stark white light, and she threw her hands up in the air. “There, done! Four years of engineering and I’m stuck doing this.”

“Aw, it’s not that bad.”

“Aren’t you the optimist,” she grumbled. She closed the casing, and the broken bulb slipped out of her hand. “Oh, you little… ughhh.”

She reached down, behind the light, into the shadows. A part of her brain sounded alarms at that; she hesitated, and then-

    Something grabbed her hand.

Maeve swore and jumped back and the creature came with her; it was a hulking voidlike mass of spines, far larger than the patch of darkness it came from, snarling and digging its claws deeper into her wrist.

A jolt of fear ran down her spine, but it only served to steel her. Without hesitating she drew a warded knife from her belt and slashed the thing where it was gripping her - it let go with a terrible screech.

“Maeve!”

“Dipper!” She motioned at him. “Flashlight!”

He shone it right at the creature, and it shrank back with a hiss. They watched it slink back into the shadows, becoming formless as it left the light, disappearing into nothing.

Nothing, and everything. Maeve stared out into the night, into the endless darkness that surrounded their little field… and couldn’t help but shiver.

“Maeve!” A hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

She felt a stinging in her hand, and looked down. “Huh? Yeah, I’m alright.” She flexed her wrist. “Nothing seems broken. We’ll patch me up back at camp.”

“Yeah, we really should be going.” He kept his hand on her as she fished her flashlight out of her bag. “Need me to carry anything?”

“I told you I was alright, didn’t I?” She shrugged him off. “We’re done here. Let’s go.”

The two of them started making their way back, sweeping their beams across the broken road they travelled down. Grass had grown through the cracks in the tarmac, and on each side sat cars rotting in front of dilapidated old houses. Darkness loomed in those mossy windows; Maeve resisted the urge to shine her light at them, get a proper look. It was too dangerous to be distracted.

Too dangerous to do much of anything, these days.

The street opened up before them into a parking lot. Before them was one, single lit building; lights streamed out of the windows of an old Sainsbury’s supermarket, and a couple flickering floodlights lit up a patch of farmland right in front. Dipper started walking a little faster when he caught sight of the lights; Maeve rolled her eyes and followed.

“We’re nearly home!”

“Yeah, we’re nearly at camp.” She rolled her eyes. “I told them that field’s too far away. If we ran out of soil we should’ve just broken up the tarmac more, but does anyone listen to me, noooo…”

“What was that?”

“Nevermind, just grumbling.”

“Heh,” Dipper rubbed his head. “You do that a lot, don’t you.”

They crossed the parking lot, turning off their flashlights as they reached the crops. Maeve ran her palm over the leaves as they passed; it felt cool on her skin, calming.

The doors slid open as they approached, and the light and the sound of chatter put a lump in her throat. Dipper stepped through without hesitation; she took a breath, and followed.

Ding.

“There you are!”

Before Maeve’s eyes could even adjust, arms came around her. Her vision went dark as she was pressed into someone’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Squeeze. “It was getting so dark - what took you so long? You said you’d be back before sunset!”

“Hi, Mum!” Dipper drew back, a smile stretched across his face. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to stay out late. We were heading home, but-”

“Oh my god!”

She seized Maeve’s hand - Maeve stiffened at that, stepped back and ripped her hand away.

“Wait, you’re bleeding!” Her mother made another grab for it. “Just let me help, baby, I-“

“It’s fine.”

“But-“

“I said, it’s fine.”

Her mother’s face crumpled at that, and there was a pause. Dipper glanced between them, and then cleared his throat.

“Well, the crops are looking good!” He rubbed his head. “Got a pretty good look at them while we were fixing the, uh, light.” Another pause. “Ugh, you know, my head kind of hurts-“

Their mother was on him in a flash. “Oh no, are you alright?”

“I’m alright, just, you know, magic-“

“Let’s get you resting.” Their mother led him away. “I’ll get you some water, does that sound good? Alright, we’ll do that…”

Maeve watched them go, and rolled her eyes. She cast one look around the camp, at the others milling about and eating dinner, and then made her way to the near corner of the store. Some makeshift rooms had been created by moving an aisle next to the wall and divvying it up with cardboard and blankets; the closest one was hers, and she slipped inside.

It was cramped and bright - still lit by the store’s lights from above - but it was private, and she breathed a sigh of relief at that. Her hand was really stinging, so she sat down on her mattress and started digging through a mountain of spare circuit parts and screwdrivers they’d taken from a hardware store to find - aha! First aid kit.

Maeve took out antiseptic and a roll of bandages, and stopped to inspect her hand in the better lighting. There was blood, but not too much; the creature seemed to have missed anything important. All there seemed to be was a couple of claw marks, and a long scratch over the scarred stumps of her fingers, ending just before it hit her thumb.

She gave a wry smile at that as she opened the antiseptic with her teeth. At least it got her bad hand. A little spray, a couple bandages, and it’ll be fine.

Once that was done, she sat back on her bed, gave a stretch, and then relaxed with a deep sigh. She stared up at the lights, and could hear people chattering outside her room; their voices had an echo to them in the store that made it hard to hear what they were saying… but Maeve kind of liked that.

She liked not being able to pick out what people were saying, because then she’d have to think about them. She liked hearing her mother’s voice without knowing what she was saying, because whatever it was would surely annoy her, definitely ruin this nice little moment of being left alone for once.

She didn’t get many chances in the apocalypse, so she cherished every one she got.

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (Part 15)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, smut

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It was bright and early when Daphne woke up the next morning. She had things to do and no time to waste. The sun was shining through her window, the weather finally starting to get warmer. She put on some leggings with a tank top and then her zip up hoodie over it. She groaned at her hair in the mirror as she dragged her brush through the unruly locks. So many times she considered cutting it so it wasn't so much work, but she knew she'd regret it. Instead, she settled on tossing it up into a high pony and ignoring it. Her trusty backpack was slung around her shoulder and she hopped around as she put her vans on before leaving the apartment. 

She squinted slightly at the light once she got out of the building but it didn't deter her. First stop. Coffee. One large latte to go later, she was on her way to see Brett to find out what news he might have. She tossed her now empty cup in the trash can beside the station before she jogged up the steps and inside. She never checked in with the desk, she was a ghost when she was here. That's how it worked. It wasn't such a secret anymore than she was on Brett's payroll which left her to come and go as she pleased, but officially, she was never there. When she walked into the office area, Brett was sitting at his desk just like the day before. He looked like he hadn't even gone home.

"You look like shit," she mused teasingly, putting down the other coffee she'd gotten for him. His eyes lit up at the sight of it and he gave her a tired smile. 

"You're an angel," he muttered with a long pull from his drink as she sat down. The coffee at the precinct was the worst and never really did its job. 

"Any news yet?" She tried to hide the impatience in her voice but she wasn't sure she succeeded.

"Actually, we do have something. Not quite sure the full details yet though," he murmured. She looked at him expectantly.

"The people we rescued, their fingertips were burnt right off just like the last time. We can't identify most of 'em until they're fully coherent. But they're doing alright. I just can't believe the Chinese were at it again right under our goddamn noses," he fumed, taking another slurp of his coffee.

"I'm not surprised. They probably picked it back up when the heat turned off them again," she sighed. She hoped that once the victims were in a better state they'd be able to get names from them. Some of them might have family that were looking for them.

"Anything from the device?" She asked hopefully

"Yeah, actually. The Chinese requested the meet. They were pretty vague about a lot of shit but they kept saying something about the Italians having a weapon and they wanted to use it. Seemed to be brokering a deal about it. I got no idea what the hell this weapon is, but the Chinese really fucking want it and the Italians already have it. And that makes me nervous as shit," he frowned. 

It made her nervous too. What did the Italians have that the Chinese couldn't get for themselves? And why did they want it? 

"Well that's unsettling," she huffed with a shake of her head.

"Tell me about it. Good news though, that device you planted must be well hidden. It’s still live and active," he flashed her a grin and she smiled herself as she gave herself a mental pat on the back.

"Do you think it'll be useful?" She inquired.

"No telling yet. I mean mostly it'll be the kitchen staff but it might pick up something. Any other meets we might not be aware of or anyone saying something. Even something small can lead to something big, right?" He smirked, practically quoting her. It made her chuckle. 

"At least that's something. If we can figure out what weapon the Italians have we can figure out how bad this all is," she said softly. It made her nervous and she had a feeling things would get messy soon in Hell's Kitchen. 

"Here's hoping. There ain't much for you to do with the case right now but I'll let you know when we get any more information. It's just a waiting game now," he replied.

"Ah, my favourite," she smirked sarcastically, causing him to snort. She wasn't known for having patience. She liked answers and she liked them immediately. But in this case, playing the long game would be the only option to getting to the bottom of it all.

She bid her goodbyes to him not long after that before making her way back out into the sunshine. Now it was her next pit stop. A short cab ride later and she was at a very fancy luxurious home. It was more like a mansion and was three stories high. It looked like it was right out of a movie with one of those grand entrances and a water feature out front. She was well out of place as dressed down as she was but she knocked on the door anyway. She wasn't even surprised when a butler answered the door.

"Can I help you, miss?" The older man asked softly. His black and white uniform was crisp and clean and it put her own rumpled clothes to shame.

"I'm here to see Mrs Grimes. I'm Daphne Weaver," she replied awkwardly. 

"One moment please," he shut the door and she quirked her brow at how formal all this was. This better pay well. Suddenly the door opened again and he smiled at her.

"This way please. She's been hoping you'd come," he seemed a little friendlier now. Maybe it was because his boss wanted her here so he wasn't all suspicious of what she wanted. Either way, she followed him inside. He led her up the huge ass staircase, the kind that split off at the middle. Everything looked like it cost a million dollars, from the art to all the rare looking things in cabinets. She didn't even feel worthy enough to touch the banister so she kept her hands in her hoodie pocket. 

The carpet was lush and a deep purple colour and she found her eyes wandering the hallway they walked down. How many rooms does someone need? No wonder she had staff, upkeep on this place would be a ball ache. They reached a room far down the left and he knocked on the heavy looking mahogany door.

"Enter," a female voice rang out. It was slightly accented but she couldn't place it. Jeeves opened the door and gestured for her to go inside. She glanced around the room curiously as she walked in. It was a living area with a grand fire. Heavy bookcases lined the walls of the room and were filled with what looked to be antique books that Daphne found herself wanting to look at. There was a giant fur rug in front of the fireplace with velvet looking sofas set in front of it. 

That's where Mrs Grimes was sitting, looking perfectly in place for where she was. She was wearing a long black dress, heels bigger than anything Daphne could ever walk in. Her greying blonde hair was neatly coiffed and pinned up and she was dripping in diamonds. Jesus. 

"Pleasure to meet you Ms Weaver, please sit," she smiled warmly at her, gesturing to the other sofa. Daphne was half worried her vans would dirty the goddamn carpet as she padded over and plonked down. Despite it being completely over the top and not really her taste, she did appreciate however how clean and neat everything was kept. A place like this could easily fall into being cluttered and dusty but it was pristine. She supposed the staff were to thank for that. Mrs Grimes' nails were so long she doubted she could do much cleaning herself. Daphne wasn't sure how she didn't accidentally gauge her own eyes out.

"Would you like something to drink?" She asked politely. Jeeves was still hovering near the door no doubt waiting for his command. She was tempted to say yes to see what kind of beverages the other side drank, but she didn't want to stay long.

"Uh… no thank you. I'm fine," she replied with an awkward smile.

"Very well. Hammond, leave us," she dismissed the man at the door. He gave a dramatic nod before he left and shut the door behind him. She idly wondered if he ever wanted to punch his bosses when they commanded him to do things like that. She'd never be able to hold a job like that down.

"I'm glad you came, I was worried you wouldn't," the older woman started, elegantly crossing one leg over the other.

"A job's a job," Daphne snorted lightly, her hands still stuffed in her pockets lest she touch something and ruin it. Mrs Grimes gave her a tense smile, looking like it was difficult to be polite. Maybe she wasn't used to the lower class being in her home. 

"Indeed it is. Will you take the case?" She asked hopefully. 

"Yeah, I'll be able to do it. As I tell all my clients, I don't give out time frames. I never know how long it'll take me to find what I need or what roadblocks might come up. I don't appreciate impatience and it doesn't make me work any faster," she said firmly. Establishing boundaries was the first thing she liked to do. It was important. Especially with the wealthy ones as in her experience they tended to be the impatient ones with their self importance.

"Very well. I accept your terms. And please, whatever you find, do tell me," she implored. Daphne nodded, she always did no matter how shitty the information she'd gained was. Mrs Grimes stood, walking somehow with grace and ease in those monster heels as she walked over to a cupboard near the wall. She opened a drawer and came back with some paper.

"Me and my husband used to be very much in love. And I'm afraid now that I'm older he's decided to find other companions. Call me paranoid but I'm sure you understand when to look into a gut feeling," she mused as she walked back over and sat down. Daphne nodded again. Her gut was rarely wrong and it was telling her that Mrs Grimes was right.

"I want confirmation. I want to know who with and how deep it runs. If it's just physical or something more. I want to prepare myself should he try to divorce me and take what I have. I need proof," she stated seriously. Daphne's eyes subconsciously swept across the room and all the fancy things in it.

"I know what you're thinking. And I was the one with money, not him. He makes a decent amount with his job but I was born with money. This house was passed through my family for generations. Everything in it I bought. But over the years I've had my eyes opened to how greedy my husband can be. I cannot trust if we separate that he won't try to take everything from me," she sounded bitter and Daphne wasn't surprised. They definitely sounded like they had issues and once trust was gone in a relationship, everything else had no foundation to stand on. It wouldn't last. She commended the woman for thinking ahead to make sure she was protected if it came down to it. This kind of bullshit was why relationships were too much work.

"I'll find out what I can. I'll be honest, some of my methods aren't quite… legal. But it gets the job done," Daphne muttered. Things like breaking and entering were definitely illegal and then there was hacking if she ever needed to do it, which in this case might prove useful.

"Good," Mrs Grimes smirked at her. She found herself smirking back at her. The rich typically didn't care too much about how she got the information, just that she got it. Mrs Grimes reached down to her Gucci purse, setting it on her lap and she grabbed something out of it. It was her wallet and Daphne was curious what her offer would be. She hadn't spoken to her about price points yet and when it came to her wealthier clients she made a point of waiting to see what their offer would be first. Usually she’d haggle a little just because she could. They'd have the money and they wanted the information. 

She watched with a keen eye as Mrs Grimes took a chunk of money out and handed it to her. A quick count told her it was $1000 and it took effort for her eyes to not bulge out as she kept a cool calm facade.

"That's the deposit. You'll get the rest when the work is complete. Another $1000. I may give you more depending on just how much you find out," she drawled. So she wouldn't need to haggle then, this price was insane and way more than what the job would entail, but like fuck she would tell her that. She also appreciated the incentive. She liked a challenge, something to work towards. The more she found out then the more she'd get paid. 

"Sounds good to me. I'll get started in the next few days," she replied, keeping her calm demeanour and not acting like she was thinking of what she would spend her money on once she got it all. She carefully stuffed it in her backpack before zipping it back up. She almost jumped when the older woman dinged a bell beside the table and it took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes as the butler walked in.

"Yes, Mrs Grimes?" He enquired politely. 

"Please see Ms Weaver out. Have one of our drivers drop her off to wherever she needs to go," she commanded softly. Part of her wanted to protest but the other wanted to pretend she lived the fancy life, even if just for a moment. 

They both stood and Mrs Grimes took her hand in one of those fancy people hand shakes that were flimsy and light. 

"It was a pleasure, Ms Weaver. I hope to hear from you soon," she smiled. 

"Likewise," she replied, not really knowing what to say. No matter how many well off clients she saw she always felt weird and out of place interacting with them.  She followed Jeeves out the hall and down the large stairs case. He stopped when he got by the front door and picked up a phone that was attached to the wall. She stood there looking around as the man spoke in hushed tones down the receiver before hanging up and then opening the grand front door. 

"Have a lovely day, Ms Weaver," he bowed politely.

"Uh… you too," she murmured as she stepped outside. 

The door shut with a clang behind her and she was suddenly on her own outside. It didn't last long though as a large black car pulled up right at the entryway.

"Ms Weaver?" A man called out after rolling the window down. She nodded and walked over. She was getting sick of being called that name. The man hopped out, jogging over to the back of the car and opening the door for her. This really was fancy service. She gave him an uncomfortable smile, not used to this level of service from anyone. It felt wrong almost. But she slipped inside and settled in the ridiculously comfy car seats. 

"Where to, Miss?" The man asked once he was situated behind the wheel again. 

"Um… Fogwell's gym please," she murmured in response. He punched in something on the phone he was using with the GPS and then he took off. There was a reason she was dressed the way she was after all. She didn't want to think of Matt being a weird asshole the day before. As much as part of her considered not going, she really needed to train and she knew he would be there. She was too stubborn to let Matt's weird PMSing get in the way of her learning to defend herself properly. 

The drive was uncomfortably silent and she clutched her backpack on her knees. She wondered what it was like to live this life full time. She was a bitch but she didn't feel right with commanding people to do shit, even if she was paying them. It just felt off to her. Before long, the car pulled up in front of the gym. She almost felt like she should pay him or something, totally not used to this kind of exchange. As she unbuckled her seat belt, the man got out and ran around to her door. He opened it and she slipped out, swinging her bag over her shoulder. She noticed the apprehensive look on his face as he looked at the rundown gym.

"Are you sure, Miss?" He asked quietly, like he was asking her to blink twice if she needed help. She almost snorted but gave him a polite smile. She guessed his boss wasn't used to being around places like this. She appreciated his sentiments all the same though.

"I'm sure," she said softly. He nodded, still looking unhappy about it but there was nothing he could do. With a nod, he was back in the car and taking off by the time she walked through the door.

She was quiet and heard loud grunting and the hits of a punching bag. As she came into view, she saw Matt beating the holy hell out of the bag. His fists were flying, grunts and pants leaving his lips with the flurry of punches. The graceful savagery was what always intrigued her about him. But then typically he'd open his mouth and ruin it. He hadn't seemed to notice her yet once again which honestly was perturbing since anyone could come in here and sneak up on him like that. She walked over to the bench, setting her backpack down with a thud. The grunts and punches stopped instantly and the only sound that echoed in the gym was Matts heavy breathing.

"Didn't think you'd show," he said carelessly. 

"I wasn't sure either honestly. But I need to train, even if I do have to put up with your bitch ass," she muttered as she started wrapping her hands. He scoffed as he came over, grabbing his water bottle and drinking a large pull from it. He tossed the bottle down again as he made his way to the ring.

"Alright, come on then," he demanded. 

"What? I don't get to warm up first?" She asked skeptically with a raised brow. He snorted coldly and shook his head.

"You wanna know how to defend yourself for real, there is no warming up. When you're out there in a situation like this, you don't get that luxury," he retorted. She rolled her eyes but honestly couldn't argue with sound logic.

Instead, she bit her tongue as she put on the gloves and climbed inside of the ring. Matt cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as they squared off with one another. 

"Let's go," he smirked devilishly. He lunged at her but she moved just in time, twirling around as they practically traded places. They started trading blows, although his were very clearly intended not to hurt her, and she was pleased she got some good jabs in. She didn't slow down or stop this time when he deflected or managed a light shot to her side. She just came back twice as hard. She was proud of herself. Her heart was thumping away from the adrenaline and the exertion of the sparring after a while and she leaned against the ropes as they both caught their breath.

"You did good. You're getting better," he sounded reluctant to give her the praise and she rolled her eyes a little at him.

"I want you to teach me how to get out of the hold from last time," she said firmly. His head turned to her then, his hazel eyes not quite landing directly at her as he narrowed them.

"Daphne, I don't think-" he started, only to be promptly cut off.

"It's fine. I need to learn and I'll get over it. I think I'll be fine this time," she urged. She meant it too. She still had lingering effects of her attack but she was feeling a little better recently. And after her and Matt's partially regrettable night together, she hadn't had a nightmare for the first night since it happened. She knew the sex had helped. Whenever she needed to feel better and clear her head, she would have sex. It's why her sister was so worried it would become a crux for her. Her sex with Matt had done wonders for her stress and anxiety over the whole thing so she felt like now was the perfect time to try to learn it. 

He was quiet for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh. He yanked his gloves off and tossed them out of the ring and she followed suit before he changed his mind. Climbing to the floor, she lay on her back and bent her knees just like the last time. As he knelt down between her legs, it was hard not to think of the night they shared together and how similar it was. 

"Ready?" He asked reluctantly. She gave him a firm nod he couldn't see but could sense and he brought his hands to her throat. Once again, he applied very little pressure but she lay perfectly still. Her heart wasn't hammering like crazy, she wasn't seeing Keiran hovering over her. She was fine. Matt stayed still as he did his head tilt thing and it took her a moment to realise he was listening to her heartbeat to check if she was okay or not. It was kind of creepy but she let it go. 

He talked her through the steps of how to get out of that kind of hold. One at a time he'd tell her what to do and correct her if she got it wrong as they did a slow mo version one part at a time to ensure she knew each step. It was more complicated than the last one but after a few step by step tries she thought she had a good idea on what to do. Now it was time to get out of it for real. 

"3, 2 ,1," he counted, preparing her somewhat so she didn't lose her shit like last time. This time he applied some pressure around her throat but it was still practically nothing. She felt his weight bearing down on her and she grabbed his right forearm with her left and then used her right hand to grip his left shoulder in a cross grip. Using her left foot, she pushed off his hip, pivoting her pelvis to the right so he was no longer directly above her. She hooked her right leg high up on his back, right under his armpit and she kept a firm grip on him as her left leg moved to wrap around his shoulder too, locking it onto her other. She grabbed his wrist, the one that was in her grip that was now at her mercy on her chest. She knew if she thrust her pelvis upwards sharply she would break his arm at his elbow. 

It had happened so fast but she caught herself before completing the maneuver and felt pleased with herself. She let go of his arm and rolled them over so he was now under her. They were both panting and she laughed lightly, feeling good she actually did it. She was a little sweaty and she looked down at where he lay under her. His brow had a slight sheen to his and his hair was doing that thing where it went every which way. His eyes were wandering as he caught his breath with a grin. She wasn't the only one enjoying their session it seemed. 

She felt his hands glide up her thighs that were around him and she'd be a liar if she said it didn't make her tingle. His unseeing eyes were burning into her, pupils blown wide. She went to move off him but he held her in place, only now she was hovering right in front of his face. One of his hands rested on the base of her neck and he pulled her down a little. She stayed still though and resisted as her lips were a breath away from his.

"We're not on the same page, remember?" She teased him, enjoying seeing him this worked up. She squeaked when her back hit the mat when he rolled them over quickly. She hadn't expected it. 

"I'm over it," he smirked devilishly at her before his lips collided with hers. 

She should have really stopped to think about it. To assess the validity of his words. But sex with Matt was something else and it made her feel amazing. All her stress and worries melted away last time. And although she knew going down that rabbit hole wasn't good with her past of sometimes becoming dependant on sex for her own mental well being, she couldn't really help herself. She blamed Matt for being insufferable and ridiculously attractive. The kiss was rough and demanding and she gave into him, moaning as he pushed himself against her through the thin fabric of their pants. He knelt up, tugging at his vest and lifting it over his head. Something dawned on her then.

"We're gonna do this here? What if someone walks in?" She snorted amused. She wasn’t one to shy away from sex in weird places but she didn't want some old dude walking in and getting a free show. He tossed his vest on the floor as he chuckled, jumping to his feet and climbing out the ring. She sat up, watching him curiously as he went and locked the door from the inside. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he prowled back to her though. The predatory grace he held, the way his sculpted body moved. In her needy and horny haze she found herself impatient for him to return and she felt like he was taking his time to tease her if his smirk was anything to go by. She pulled her shirt off and then her bra, tossing them in a heap beside them as Matt toed off his shoes. 

He knelt back down then, his hands curling her ankles and yanking them lightly. Her back hit the mat with a light thud and she looked up at him shocked before laughing. With a wicked grin, he pulled her leggings and panties off together but painfully slow and her desire was increasing with every second he made her wait for it. She wouldn't beg though. She sat back up, tugging at his shorts and he bent down, kissing her roughly as she yanked them down with his boxers. She fisted him tightly and he moaned into her mouth, causing her to smirk into the kiss. Letting go, she pulled the shorts and boxers all the way off him before pushing him onto his back. 

It was his turn to look mildly shocked and she climbed on top of him, her slick heat trapping his cock against his belly. His eyes were darting around her face and she leant forward, catching his lower lip with her teeth. He let out a long groan, arching up at her as she tugged it before letting it go with a pop. She sat up, pushing up on her knees before she gripped him and lined herself up. Without a word she sank down onto him and the pair moaned in relief. It was instant for her, that feeling of him filling her up like that. Knowing her release would come soon. She rested her hands on his firm chest for leverage as she started moving her hips. His hands felt like they were all over her body at once. Not soft or sweet, but firm and demanding and he took in every detail of her body. 

The gym was filled with moans and gasps as she rode him hard, her anger at his behaviour and the thrill of fighting with him fuelling her pleasure. She almost found it ironic that they were fucking in a boxing ring with how often they fought. He pulled her down roughly, lips smashing against hers as he ravaged her mouth. She felt that euphoric feeling getting closer, her whole body tingling in anticipation. She got faster and harder, chasing the release she was after like her life depended on it. 

"Don't stop," Matt groaned against her lips, one hand gripping the back of her neck while the other was on her ass, fingers digging into her flesh. She had no plan on stopping though. Not when she was this close. She kept up the pace and then she moaned loudly, her body tensing lightly as she clamped down around him. 

He let out the hottest fucking noise she’d ever heard a human make and it only heightened her own pleasure as she rode the waves of her orgasm. He was clinging onto her tightly, rutting up into her as he panted and then groaned, spilling himself inside of her. He relaxed instantly. Hands falling to his sides. She sat there on top of him as she tried to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair had started falling out of her ponytail. She was thoroughly fucked and in the best way. That beautiful feeling was coursing through her veins as she let the hormones and endorphins flow though her. 

She climbed off him carefully before standing up and stretching.

"I'm gonna hit the shower," she hummed sounding blissful as she scooped up her clothes. She walked completely naked to the showers and got herself cleaned up and presentable. She didn't regret it, it was amazing and she felt good now. And from the sounds he made, he enjoyed himself too. She just hoped he meant it when he said they were on the same page. 

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

Matt stood in his own shower in the men’s changing rooms as he let the cold water pelt him. His brain was a fried mess and he leaned against the cool tiles as he tried to just think clearly. He wasn't sure why he'd done it again, not after last time. He couldn’t really say what had bothered him about the fact she left last time. He'd gotten out of the shower and went to his room and she was just gone. No words, no note, nothing. He knew it had been purely physical, they could barely tolerate each other. He wasn't stupid enough to think too deeply into it. Yet it left him feeling strangely hollow when she’d just left him like that.

And then when he had turned up to work, Foggy had been acting weird. After some pressure he'd told Matt about his conversation with Daphne. Matt was pretty sure he hadn't gotten the whole story from him but the gist of her saying it was just sex was clear. And he'd told Foggy she was right. It was a one time thing because of all their pent up anger and the adrenaline from the night they'd had. He told his best friend to stop thinking about it. Yet he hadn't been able to do the same. He'd ended up texting her using Foggy's phone to see if she would be home and then he went to see her. No rhyme or reason or idea why he was going there. All he knew was that it bothered him.

It wasn't like he’d never had casual sex before, although he couldn't say it happened much the last few years. And his inability to understand why he was feeling the way he was led to them fighting again. Because she was right. But he hadn't been able to let it go. So when he left, he told himself it wouldn't happen again. She was trouble and being around her wore him out. It wasn't worth it. So how did he end up here again? Oh that's right, apparently he'd turned into a horny teenager again. A bit of sparring, feeling her body against his and sensing how happy she was in the ring really fucked his hormones over. And now here he was again. Only this time it was his own fault. She’d actually turned him down and he'd been the one to push. He couldn't say he regretted it either. It was the best damn sex he’d ever had and it left him feeling more chilled out than he felt in a long time. He'd keep his mouth shut this time and not act like a teenage girl about it. He dug himself into this hole and now he had to climb his own way out. 

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

Daphne towel dried her hair as much as she could and it left it wavy. She scooped it up in a messy bun on top of her head, a few stands framing her face. The euphoric feeling she got after sex was easing but she still felt calm and settled. It was nice, she didn't get to experience it that much anymore. She really didn't want to have to face Matt, not knowing if he'd throw a tantrum like last time. She didn't want him to read into it again or act all weird about it. It really killed the vibe and ruined her good mood. She'd tried to stop it from happening, not wanting to deal with that again, but she hadn't been able to help herself when he'd wanted her so clearly. There was something addictive about it. But now she felt dread settle into her bones as she thought about how he would react. 

She took her sweet time getting dried and dressed simply to buy herself some time. But eventually she was done and she had to leave the changing room. As she walked out into the main part of the gym, Matt was sitting on the bench tying his laces. 

"Ready?" He asked softly. No awkward questions, no anger in his voice. Maybe he was on the same page now after all. She felt relief sweep through her, allowing her to enjoy the calmness that she'd been left with after their time together. 

"Yeah," she replied, grabbing her backpack and putting it over her shoulder. 

Matt grabbed his cane where it was leaning against the wall. He was now wearing a hoodie too and he grabbed his glasses out of the pocket as he slid them onto his face. She wondered if he ever got sick of having to act blind. He was blind but not like the average blind person. He didn't really need the stick and she'd seen him 'bumping' into things like he hadn't known they were there before. When they stepped out into the sunshine, she winced and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Jesus christ! I think I've joined the blind club," she grumbled, rubbing her poor eyes. The sun just burnt the shit out of her retinas. He let out a surprised laugh, the door shutting behind them.

"Here," he grinned. She cracked a wary eye open, seeing him holding out his glasses to her, but she didn't take them.

"It's not like I need them,” he teased. It helped. She felt a little better. She slid them onto her face and her eyeballs thanked her immediately. They started walking down the street together and she glanced into a window as they walked by, looking at her reflection. She snorted at herself. Her hair, despite being recently washed and put up, was a wavy mess. Her cheeks were still rosy pink and the glasses looked weird on her face.

"They suit you," he mused playfully. She shoved him lightly, causing him to laugh when an older woman gasped at her actions.

"Assaulting a blind man in public? It's like you want to get arrested," he smirked.

"Yeah well, Foggy will be my lawyer so I'll be good," she quipped back with a grin. Now they were on the same page they seemed to be amicable after venting their frustration on each other. 

"You really think my best friend would take your side over mine?" He asked, faking being hurt as he held his hand over his heart. She stopped walking and he did the same as she looked at him.

"I hate to say it but I think he prefers me now. Not that I can blame him. You are a bit of an asshole," she grinned mischievously. He gaped at her before his hand darted out and went to grab the glasses. She squeaked, holding them in place as he tried to steal them from her face.

"You don't deserve my glasses," he snorted.

"Come on! I need my eyes, I'm not like you!" She whined pitifully. 

"And what's this?! My two favourite people, getting along nicely? Is the world ending?" A dramatic voice sounded from next to them. Both she and Matt stilled completely in a comical way before they took a step away from each other. Both of them looked caught out as they looked at a very smug Foggy.

"This is great! Better than great! I love this," he beamed like a kid on Christmas. Daphne groaned and glared at him from the glasses still perched on her face.

"Foggy, I swear! You want us to not kill each other when we're in the same room? Don't make a big deal about it when it happens," she huffed. 

"It is a big deal. You're both laughing and smiling together. This is huge. It's like a rare solar event or something," he defended. 

She resisted the urge to throttle him as Matt rubbed his temples. 

"Foggy," Matt warned lightly.

"Okay! I get it, I'm making it weird. This whole thing is new to you both and I'm just making it awkward," he soothed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"There is no 'thing'. We can't just actually have a moment where we get on with each other before you start trying to marry us off again?" She whined. 

"Marry us off? What?" Matt asked quickly, his head whipping to his friend. She snorted as Foggy's cheeks went a little pink and he shot her a glare 

"Oh, he didn't tell you he's the captain of ship Maphne?" She laughed loudly. She didn't care if Matt knew. It was ridiculous to her and she was getting payback on Foggy for being a little shit. 

"Maphne? Do I even wanna know?" Matt asked exasperated. Foggy shot her another look before standing up straighter.

"You know what, Daph, mock me all you want but this is the hill I'm choosing to die on," he pointed at her. Matt still stood there unsure of what they were even talking about. She opened her mouth for another retort that would no doubt embarrass Foggy further and also maybe make Matt uncomfortable which was a bonus, but Foggy beat her to it. 

"Anyway! I'm glad I caught you two, I have great news!" He beamed excitedly. She quirked her brows perplexed as he led them to a table outside of the cafe nearby. The three of them sat around it, Matt and Daphne watching their friend expectantly. 

"I finally asked Karen on a date!" He practically squealed. A splitting grin graced Daphne's face, unable not to be happy for him. During their many talks, he'd spoken about his feelings for the blonde and Daphne had always told him to go for it. 

"Aw, Foggy! You're growing up, I'm so proud!" She cooed, reaching over and pinching his cheek. He was so happy he just let her.

"That's awesome, man. I'm happy for you," Matt smiled sincerely.

"I know, it's great right? I just finally bit the bullet. I just decided I need to stop being such a baby about it," he explained. He had a weird look on his face though, the same one that usually told her something going on.

"What is it?" Both she and Matt asked at the same time, him clearly picking up on Foggy's weirdness in his own way.

Foggy raised a brow at them both being in sync and she made a point to not even look at Matt so Foggy wouldn't go off on his Maphne tirade again.

"Well… I just… I panicked, okay? I set it all up and she knew I wanted to ask her something. But then I'm like, what if she says no? I mean it's just gonna be me and Karen. Alone. On a date," he uttered looking like a deer in the headlights.

"That's kinda the point, Foggy," Matt teased.

"I know it is. And I couldn't back out because she was just watching me, waiting for what I wanted to ask. I honestly felt like I was about to have a heart attack and I may have asked her on a date but told her it was a double date with you guys," he blurted, barely taking a breath as he did. 

Daphne blinked at him for a moment as her brain tried to digest his words.

"You did what?" Matt asked incredulously. Foggy made a pitiful noise and she took Matt’s glasses off and set them in the middle of the table, giving Foggy a look.

"A double date? Implying that me and Matt are actually also going to be on a date. Do you see the flaw in that plan?" She asked slowly, like she was talking to a child about why playing with matches was bad. 

"I know! Like I said, I panicked and that's just the first thing that came out of my mouth!" Foggy defended with a sigh.

"And Karen actually bought that?" Matt scoffed, gesturing with his hand to him and then Daphne.

"You're kidding right? She's all aboard this ship, she was actually excited about it," Foggy smirked. She kicked him under the table and he groaned. Matt's jaw ticked as he glared in his best friend's direction. 

"This isn't a joke, Fogg. All the shit you give me for keeping my secret from her and you're just lying right to her face about this?" Matt frowned. 

"That's completely different. Your secret is dangerous. This one isn't. For all she knows it's your first date too and after that it just didn't work out. Besides, it's not like you're not getting it on with each other, would it really be that hard to just pretend to be on one date?" He pleaded, looking from her to Matt.

"Yes," they both answered again.

"Please? I really need this. If I tell her you're not going she might cancel too. You two are like a buffer, help set the scene and put her at ease. I really like her, guys. I don't want to mess things up," he begged. 

"Foggy-" Matt started sternly, only to be cut off by Daphne. 

"Fine. But you're paying for dinner," she relented. 

Foggy smiled the widest grin she'd ever seen on a human and Matt turned to glare at her.

"You've got to be kidding me," he scoffed incredulously.

"What? Didn't you hear him? He's our friend, Matt. Let's just do this for him. Besides, free dinner," she shrugged. Matt looked pissed and honestly it was a reward she hadn't expected. She'd almost forgotten how nice it felt to push his buttons. 

"This is ridiculous. You really think she's not gonna notice we can't stand each other once she's sat at a table with us for a while?" Matt glowered. He had a point but they could just try to be civil for Foggy's sake.

"You know what, Matt, I really hate to play this card but you left me no choice. You lied to me for the longest time and now I have to keep your secret. I already have to start a potential relationship with lies for you. Can't you just do this one thing for me? I never ask you for anything," Foggy muttered with a frown. 

A sly grin spread on her face at how underhand it was of Foggy. She almost felt like a proud parent as she watched a million emotions pass over Matt's face before defeat was all that was left.

"Fine. But don't say I didn't want you when this all blows up in your face. And you're paying for my dinner too," he huffed. Foggy looked more than pleased with himself. 

"Thank you! You guys are awesome. I'll even pay for your drinks if you actually try and act like you like each other and not make it awkward," he shot them both a toothy grin. 

"Hey, let me drink as much as I want and I'll make it really look like we're on a date," she smirked devilishly, a wiggle of her eyebrows and Foggy burst out laughing.

"Jesus christ," Matt muttered quietly with a shake of his head. 

"Deal," Foggy nodded firmly, "tonight at 8. It's the Mexican place near the firm," he instructed before he stood.

"Alright. I'm heading out, you coming with, Matt?" He asked, shooting his annoyed friend a look.

"Yeah. You go on, I'll catch up in a sec," he bit out. Foggy gave her a look and a smirk before he started walking away. 

"Really?" Matt glared at her, swiping his glasses from the table and shoving them onto his face. 

"What? Free food and as much booze as we want? Plus doing your best friend a solid? I know you're an asshole, Matt, but I thought you weren't that much of an asshole," she quipped dryly. He clamped his mouth shut, jaw tense as he pursed his lips.

"Fine," he stood up abruptly, gripping his cane before holding it in front of him. 

"You're doing this for Foggy. Don't fuck it up for him just because you've got a stick up your ass," she huffed as she stood up too. 

He shot her what she presumed was a dirty look behind his glasses before he started walking away, his cane swinging in front of him. His irritation about the situation only made her want to do it more. It was his own fault really for acting like such a bitch about the whole thing. He was asking for her to make it worse for him. She started walking home as a plan formed in her mind. She'd get nice food and decent booze and she'd get to piss Matt off in a setting he had to behave in. She was actually looking forward to it. 

As soon as she got home, she called their firm, knowing Karen would be the one to answer.

"Nelson and Murdock, Karen speaking," came the voice down the phone. Daphne trapped the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she tugged off her hoodie and tossed it in the laundry basket.

"Hey Karen, it's Daphne," she said casually. 

"Oh! Hi!" She sounded genuinely happy to speak to her and she wondered why she'd never bothered to speak to Karen more since she was so close to Foggy and Matt.

"I know this is weird, we haven't really spoken much. But I wanted to ask a favour since we're going on a double date," she said carefully, flopping onto her sofa.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Don't tell the guys, it's kind of weird for me. It's just… this is mine and Matt's first date too and it's been so long. I was wondering if you'd help me get ready for the date? I wanna look really good. I mean I know he can't really see, but he just somehow knows these things, right?" She grinned, cringing at how hard she was going at this. She felt a tiny bit bad at lying to her but she ignored it. 

"Of course! I'd… I'd really love that. I'm nervous too and it'd be good to just have some girl time," Karen said softly. 

"Thank you, I really appreciate this. We could go to the restaurant together when we're done," Daphne smiled pleased with herself. After exchanging cell numbers and goodbyes, Daphne sat back on the couch with a smirk. She wanted to turn heads. Not only just to irritate Matt, using her knowledge of him finding her physically attractive against him, but it had been a while since she went out. Usually she did so with a goal in mind, to have sex. And she would turn heads, a lot of them. Tonight was different but it didn't mean her ego wouldn't enjoy being looked at. It certainly would be interesting. 

[aj-writes-here]

Hello, author 💞 how are you going? Hope you're fine and healthy. So I went to the beach this weekend and all I did there was reread your texts (because they deserve to be reread and no one can deny) and get sunburned. It made me want to ask for a scenario. Could you write about levi's s/o taking care of him all grumpy for getting sunburned after a day at the beach? I think this is what they call projection, send me help😢😂 (and again, sorry for my bad english)

Hey there! I’m so so so so sorry this one took me so long! I apologize, ever since I started online classes again I have little time for everything:( but here it is and I hope you like it!  Oh, and you reread my works? I’m crying, I’m so glad you enjoy them😭💕 And please, don’t ever apologize for your English, it is great  🤗

Sunburned

Let's go to the beach, they said. It'll be fun, they said. Fucking shit, Levi thought. At this point, he couldn't remember who had the idea of going to the beach. At first he disagreed, there was no way he was going, the sand was going to get all over, and God knows what creatures were in the water or what people did once they got into the sea. However, your excited eyes were the ones that convinced him, accepting that beach trip.

The weather was nice, and the beach was quite pretty to be fair, but Levi would have rather to spent those small holidays with you and only you, but there they were. Hanji was way too excited, Erwin was looking more relaxed than the usual, and not even mention the brats that wanted to do a lot of things in so little time, at least the house you were staying was big enough not to hear their loud screams, or Eren fighting with Jean, Sasha stealing food from the kitchen and so far so on. 

That Friday, the entire day was spent at the beach, and even though you almost begged Levi to join the water with you, he refused. Honestly, you were happy with the fact that he was already there, sitting on his small area free from sand. 

He smiled to himself when you left with the plastic ball, throwing it to Hanji so all of you could play and chill for a while, but Levi started feeling his body relaxing, last night was like all the others, away from a peaceful sleep. As the heat was starting to be annoying, he got rid of his shirt and folded it tidily so he could use it as a pillow. 

Terrible idea.

By the time he had woken up, he was still alone since all of you were now playing among the waves. Levi sat up and when he tried to scratch his stomach he hissed in pain and discomfort. Was a visual effect, or his body was that red? He cursed to himself.

And he kept cursing as you laughed because he was looking like a crab. 

''Levi, do you need help?'' You asked, waiting for him to leave the bathroom. 

''I'm fine'' He replied back, and you had to contain your laughed when he walked out only in his black underwear. ''Remind me to break everyone's legs. We're not coming to the beach anymore'' 

His legs were red, but only half of his thighs were burnt, a white spot on his abdomen was left untouched from the sun since he was laying his hand on his stomach when he fell asleep, but the rest of his body was completely red.

''This is why we don't nap at the beach'' And then you laughed again as he was sitting carefully on the bed. ''They guys bought this, the guy at the drugstore said it has helpful'' You showed him the bottle in your hand, a fresh green etiquette on it. 

He clenched his teeth as he laid down on the bed, and you opened the gel bottle, letting the content drip on his legs. 

''It stinks'' Levi said, and his muscles tensed just a bit at the burning feeling.

''Don't be grumpy, it isn't that bad'' You started applying the gel on his skin softly, hoping it would soothe the pain a bit. 

''This is so fucked up'' He said again, your hands now on the red zone of his thigh.

''You don't like me touching you?'' You said in amusement ''I can call Jean and tell him that-'' He cut you off.

''No way in hell, brat.'' Levi raised an eyebrow and he looked at you. 

Your hands kept roaming his body, his arms, chest, face, legs. Nothing heated or tempting, actually your moves were careful enough not to hurt him even more, just applying the gel to refresh his skin. Once you were done, you pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

''Are you feeling any better?'' You asked, laying by his side.

''It feels fresher'' Levi added, turning his face towards you.

''How can you look this handsome even when you are sunburnt like hell?'' A smile formed across your face, eyes shining when he saw you with his usual expression.

''Tch, you brat'' He was not great with compliments, so he just grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.

You were about to imitate his actin when the sound of a notification distracted you. Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you noticed it was a message in the group chat that was created to organize the beach trip, and when you looked at it, a loud laugh left your lips. Levi was going to kill Mike, that's for sure. 

''What is it?'' He asked you, trying to look at your phone.

''Mike sent this'' You covered your mouth in an attempt of stopping your laugh. He had sent a picture of Patrick Star with Levi's face. 

''That tall bastard'' He growled, sitting up again,

''No, you stay here'' You grabbed him by his shoulder and he hissed in pain again.

''Shit'' Levi whined as he laid his back on the mattress again

''It was quite creative, to be fair'' You kissed his cheek ''And I already told you you look handsome like this, so don't break Mike's legs'' You laughed again, caressing his hair.

''He is not getting away with this.'' Levi looked at you

''Leave it be just by now, Patrick Star'' Laugh took possession over you again, making you giggle in amusement.

''Oi!'' Levi said with a loud voice and giving you an angry look, eyebrows furrowed but that only made you laugh more. 

''I love you so much'' You said between giggles, laying a hand in your stomach because even your muscles were aching, that one was going to be a day worth remembering.

[mageicalwishes]

Read on AO3: Here

Rating: General Audience

Summary: Baz reflects on the events of Wayward Son, and the hopelessness he feels. "A trip to try and save him - To save us. A last ditch effort to put some of the sunshine back in to his soul. Rammed together in economy, the press of his knee firm against mine, but his mind miles away. His eyes ever averted. Touching yet so far apart. I just wish I knew where I went wrong." Carry On Countdown, Day 2 - Distance @carryon-countdown​

Tags: Angst, Heavy Angst, Relationship Issues, Book 2: Wayward Son, Distance, Carry On Countdown 2020 Day 2

Words: 1,367

I don’t know how we got to this point. To separate rooms and separate taxis. To separate lives, soon enough, no doubt. I was naïve to think - to hope for better.

We spent years separated by six inches of floor space and the pressure of familial disagreements. By stupid squabbles and punches that I wish I could take back. Years of wanting him from afar, wobbling along the line between who I should be (Who I should want), and what I really was - Pitifully in love with the Mage’s hair. With his wild curls and stubborn persistence. His splattered skin and his beaming smile (Even though it was never aimed at me).

A creature of the night in love with the sun. How hopeless it all was. Untouchable Simon Snow - How he tore me up inside.

But then came that brief, shining interlude where I thought maybe -  Just maybe  - it wasn’t so hopeless, after all. 

A Christmas Eve full of new beginnings - Rolling around on the floor of my childhood bedroom, chests and hands and lips pressed together, over and over. Fire dancing across my skin as he held me, but leaving no scorch marks. The closing of that unbearable distance with whispered confessions of truths I never dared to tell. The realisation of all my foolish fantasies. 

And later, after everything we’d been through - Everything he’d been through - that newly formed relationship remained. A weak little sapling peeking through the rubble and ruin in spite of it all, a promise of better things to come.  

Evenings spent wrapped around one another on the sofa, private smiles just for me, holding him close at night and finally easing the unceasing bone-deep chill. Touching him, kissing him, holding him, having him. Mine. Finally mine. Happy and warm and safe and loved. 

I suppose that I should’ve seen it coming - The withdrawal. The reality is that neither of us have had much experience with those marvellous states of being. We didn’t know how to be without a fight - With hope and time and security and love, on our side. We never learnt. 

In hindsight, it was foolish to think that we could build something strong - Something stable and durable - without that foundation. Without addressing … everything, both between us and as individuals.

We tried, of course - On everything, I swear that I gave it my all (And I know that he did too). 

I tried to give him what he needed. Tried to love him in a way that he could handle - That didn’t suffocate him. Squishing my feelings down as not to scare him away. Reassuring him in any way that I could that I was in it for the long run. That I didn’t love his magic, or his prophecy, or all the greatness that he was promised - I just loved him. Simon Snow. Exactly as he was. But ... I don’t think he heard me. Not really. 

He agreed to see the therapist that Dr Wellbelove recommended, in the hopes that it would help him cope, but it wasn’t right for him. 

We tried to talk. We tried to pretend that we were alright. We tried to power through. Both of us scrabbled desperately to save what we had. Nevertheless ... I suppose that Love makes a fool of us all, in the end.

It started out small - With slight hesitation when I clung to him too fervently, with stuttering breaths when I came to close, and the dropping of my hand when I held on too long - but it soon grew. 

He needed more distance, and so ... I gave it to him. 

 A trip to try and save him - To save us. A last ditch effort to put some of the sunshine back in to his soul. 

Rammed together in economy, the press of his knee firm against mine, but his mind miles away. His eyes ever averted. Touching yet so far apart. I just wish I knew where I went wrong. 

At first, I thought that it would work. 

In the heat of the desert, watching him beam. His overgrown curls tousled by the wind, that long-lost smile breaking across his face, him howling and singing under the sun. Shouting my adoration, even though I knew he couldn't hear it. Here, I believed.

Crowded up against the car door, bodies pressed together, with his hands grabbing at my hips. His lips on mine, and the world around us temporarily forgotten. Adrenaline flooding our veins - Finally alive, alive, alive. A tantalising glimpse of what could be. Here, I believed. 

“Ride with me. There are stars.” The ghost of the night that remade us hung heavy in his barely-there words - Stars. He pressed me into the truck floor with his weight, thighs squeezing against mine as his fingers slid through my hair. My throat knotted thick, as I shivered beneath him, overcome by our closeness. Desperately clutching at the heat of his skin, savouring the feel of him against me a moment longer. My cheek to his neck. His head to my chest. Hearts beating close together. Even then, in this fleeting moment, I believed.

But as the days dragged on and on, and the happy moments became long since passed memories, my hope slowly faded. And soon enough, I was forced to confront the grim reality that maybe there just was no fixing this - No matter how much I wished it so.

Locked in the bathroom, building myself up for a measly kiss on the cheek. Staring at myself blankly in the steamed-up mirror, hardly recognizing the shell wincing back at me - Nose charred, skin pale, and joy gone. Desperately hoping that my unquenchable greed - That hollow, desperate loneliness - wouldn’t mess things up further. That what was once a simple, inconsequential act wouldn’t be the straw that broke the camel’s back. “Goodnight, Simon”, I had whispered. How many more nights we’d get to spend together - That I’d be lulled to sleep by the steady huffs of his breath - I didn’t know. And I didn’t dare ask.

My chest torn and bloodied. Red staining the scuzzy motel bathtub, but too exhausted to cast a cleaning spell. My love, gawking, open-mouthed at the sight of me, hands twitching by his sides, ready to reach out - An intention gone heartbreakingly undelivered. “It’s fine, Simon. It’ll heal.” I wish we would too. 

Sobbing on the sand, the sky above us hanging dull and grey. He was trying to - I know what it was. I know what he was doing. “When someone shows you who they are, believe them”. 

Well, I’ve seen who he is - The good and the bad - and I want him no less. I’m shouting, begging, pleading for him to just understand - Giving him what little left of me there is. I wouldn’t be happier anywhere else. I wouldn’t be happier without him in my life. 

And then came Bunce, smashing into our own private storm with news of ‘Trouble’ at Watford and summoning us back home. Dragging us back into the fight. Back into the war. 

I got too close, and I burnt. We’re broken, and I don’t know how to fix it. He’s slipping through my fingers, and I’m utterly powerless to stop it. 

I’ve mastered magic - Successfully bending language to do my bidding - but I can’t find the words to make him stay. Can’t find the words to make him finally just see all that he is to me.

I’d tell him that I love him, if I thought that he’d want to hear it. If I thought those words were big enough. I’ve done it before; but only when he wasn’t listening - When he was snoring next to me, or singing to himself in the shower. From across the room, or when I’m safe behind closed doors. I’d do it right now, without hesitation, if I thought it would help. I'd mean every word of it. But ... I think we’re past that now. 

So, here I am, slumped in the back of some wretched taxi cab, with Bunce muttering soothing words into my shoulder as I sob into the sleeve of my one remaining shirt. Hopeless. Broken. Over. 

Dear God, I need a miracle. 

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Love of my Life

Ao3 link

Summary: One drink. That's all it took. One drink and Roman was calling into radio stations in the dead of night and professing his dedicated love to one Patton Baker. At least no one he knew had heard him. ...right? Pairings: Romantic royality, platonic/brotherly analogical, parental logince + parental prinxiety Warnings: Brief, throw-away mention of alcohol a few times, food mentions Author’s note: Italicized sentences are flashbacks to the night before

"Hello darling, and welcome to the Sleepless Hour with your very own Remy Crescent. May I ask what has you calling on this fine evening?"

"Oh, just the love of my life."

Roman groaned and pulled the covers over his head. The damned sun was trying to shine its way into his room, and while he normally would love to enjoy being caught in the world's biggest spotlight, he wasn't quite feeling it this morning.

Maybe it was the fact that he could hear loud whispering from downstairs, which always meant some sort of trouble. Maybe it was the fact that despite having only ONE drink last night he felt like Holy Hell. Maybe it was the fact that following the logic that one drink had provided he had publicly and proudly confessed his love to one Patton Baker.

Did he regret what he said? Of course not! But the timing and the manner in which he declared it was decidedly not ideal.

"Wow, love of your life, huh? Quite the bold statement sugar. I like it. What's got you crazed about this one?"

"Just EVERYTHING about him. I don't think I have enough time to say it all."

"Ah, why don't you give it a go anyways?"

"Dad! Better Dad's at the door!"

Roman sighed even as he smiled, pushing himself out of bed at the cry of his youngest. "You know you can't call him that until I marry him right?" He yelled back as he fumbled to get changed.

"Father, if we wait until that time, we will either be calling him 'better Dad' tomorrow or never."

"Logan!"

Roman could almost hear his eldest roll his eyes- not in disrespect, simply in annoyance that the world couldn't keep up with him. "You have a tendency to either do everything at once or never. I drew from your past actions in romantic pursuits and your general personality to make my statement, and I maintain that it's accurate."

"Yeah, well, what have we said about telling the truth in this household?"

"To squash it down unless it is pleasing and flattering to you?"

"There ya go!"

Roman could definitely hear Logan sigh at that, cut off from responding by the doorbell ringing. Virgil called up again, "Dad!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Well, first of all, he's absolutely wonderful with my kids. I've got two of them- love them as I do, that doesn't make them any less of handful."

"Oh, wild childs?"

"The complete opposite, actually. Quiet. Not too trusting. But for him... he's amazing. He's already replaced me as the favorite Dad and we're not even close to being actually married."

"Well, that's quite the start- I'll hand it to 'im. But you said you could go on?"

Roman tried not to trip too badly down the stairs. Given the disappointed stares his children were giving him when he finally ended up on ground level, he decided he hadn't achieved that too well.

"Dad, have you even heard of a comb?"

"Virgil, please." Logan chastised lightly. "He's clearly heard of a comb before. Whether or not he's attempted to acquaint himself with one this morning is up for debate, however."

"You two and your debates." Roman tsked with a smile, running a hand through his hair and trying to ignore that they clearly had a point.

Virgil tilted his head with a frown. "Is it really a debate when the answer's clear?"

Roman gasped dramatically, raising his free hand to his chest. "I cannot believe this! My own children! Sons of my loin!"

"We're adopted." Logan and Virgil replied in unison, pitch matched in tired judgement.

"I hate that you can do that."

The doorbell rang again. Roman's attention shot back towards the door. "Oh, right. Patton's here."

"I can't believe you forgot about the 'love of your life.'" Virgil teased, the smirk growing on his face making Roman's checks heat up.

"You two were supposed to be sleeping." He said immediately, the slight smile on Logan's face already clueing him into the fact that Virgil wasn't the only one eavesdropping.

Virgil shrugged. "You were loud." He said simply, sniggering. "Loud with your declarations of LOVE~"

Roman shook his head. "I can't believe I'm surprised."

"Our behavior should be relatively predictable by now, yes." Logan agreed with him helpfully.

Roman just ruffled the older boy's hair as he went by, earning himself a glare from Logan as he rushed to fix it. Roman chuckled as he approached the door.

"I could go on for eons."

"Well, babes, I'm sorry to say we've only got two minutes but if you go fast I'm sure it'll feel like longer."

"Two minutes really isn't enough time. He's too perfect. Too gorgeous."

"Oh, gorgeous, huh? Come on, love, details! Wax that poetic- I can tell you're just dying to."

Roman pulled open the door. The day was rainy, the sky grey and overcast- not that Roman noticed.

"It's not waxing poetic if it's simple fact. Patton is... Patton is literal sunshine..."

Patton was, as expected, waiting cheerfully on Roman's doorstep, mood undamped despite the fact that his clothes were not. His smile was still there, of course; it always was, bright and shiny as if he had stolen the light the sky was so sorely lacking just to brighten it.

"...his smile could light up a starless night; his eyes are prettier than the sapphires that could only dream to ever be as lovely..."

"Can I come in?" Patton asked lightly, eyes shining with mirth from behind his wiry glasses. He lifted the sealed container in his arms up just a bit, shaking it. "I brought cookies!"

"You know you are always welcome here, my darling marshmallow." Roman said with as charming of a smile as he could muster, sweeping backwards and bowing to let Patton in. Patton laughed.

"...oh, and his laugh! Like the finest silver bells ringing, like bluebirds singing on a perfect summer day..."

Patton shook himself a little, rubbing at his wet arms with wet hands as if that was going to dry anything. He glanced up from his unsuccessful work, spotting Logan and Virgil as he did so. His smile only grew.

"Lo-lo! Virge!" Patton greeted them excitedly. "How are my favorite kids!?"

"I don't know, I've never met them." Virgil answered, earning himself a 'stern' glare from Patton.

"Now, kiddo, come on. Don't make me physically fight you." He threatened. Virgil's eyes widened very slightly. He knew it was no idle threat. The last time he had ignored that warning he hadn't been allowed to escape Patton's hug for a full minute.

Terrifying.

Virgil shuffled his feet. "'m good."

"Great!" Patton exclaimed before opening his arms. "Now, can also get a hug from one of my favorite kids?"

"You're laying this on thick." Virgil mumbled before nodding his head at the container still in Patton's hand. "Are those cookies?"

"Yep!"

Virgil found himself very willing to submit to the hug in exchange for cookies. Patton didn't try to put up a fight as Virgil snatched it from him. He turned his attention to Logan instead. "And my other favorite not-son?"

"Adequate." Logan replied. He raised an eyebrow when Patton re-opened his arms. "Unlike my easily bribed brother, I do not fall to simple cookies."

"Do you fall if they're Crofter's cookies?"

"...You're playing dirty." Logan said, but his attention was clearly now caught by the treat Virgil was munching on. Patton's smile only grew when Logan glared to the side but still shuffled over, pretending he didn't maintain the hug for longer than the three second minimum before claiming his own cookie.

"My, my, you really are smitten, aren't you?"

"Please, for the love of my love, never assume I am anything less. Patton deserves no less."

"Well he's definitely batting twenty-twenty at the moment. Great with kids and clearly beautiful. Considerin' we got another good fifty seconds here, I'm sure there's something else you'd like to enlighten us on about your dearest?"

Roman smiled as well as he came to stand next to Patton. "Little sugar addicts." He said lovingly. "So easily won over. Isn't that right, Lo-lo?"

Logan briefly glanced up from what was already his third cookie. "Never call me that ever again."

"You let Patton call you that!"

"Patton brought cookies." Virgil answered for Logan.

"Well, I make you cookies, too!" Roman protested.

"Burnt ones don't count."

Roman pouted, and Patton giggled. "Come on, Ro, I'll teach you how to bake your way into their hearts."

"I'm not sure that's possible." Roman responded. "They're ungrateful."

"And he's REALLY bad at baking."

Roman pointed at Virgil. "See! Point proven."

Patton seemed even more amused. "Well, I'll teach you how to bake your way into my heart instead, then." He offered with a little wink, grabbing Roman's hand and innocently pulling him into the kitchen like he wasn't going to be the literal death of Roman.

"Everything. I could tell you about everything. He's too wonderful. And so kind. He's sweeter than a sugar high. Mischievous as an imp, though. But if any of the Fates still favor me, he's my imp."

Patton only released Roman's hand once they were both in the kitchen, quickly shifting through the pantries for the ingredients he'd need. Roman leaned against one of the counters as casually as he could while he was being useless.

"As much as I adore the idea of pretending I have a chance at baking, I know a diversion when I see one." Roman commented idly. "Any reason you needed to get away from the troublemakers?"

"I don't know what you're suggesting, sweetie." Patton replied, tone much too innocent. "I just want to bake with you! And you know what I love to do while I bake?"

"Talk to people?" Roman suggested as he pointed out the cupboard that held their bowls.

"That too! But when there's no one around, I like to listen to the radio!"

"I can already hear the choir boys singing. I know earlier you said you were nowhere near thinking about marriage, but I mean... you two seem very close. How long have you been dating? A year? Two?"

"Heh, well, technically we're not dating- considering we haven't actually gone on a date yet."

"...I'm going to have Dave give us another minute because sweetheart I must have misheard you. Not a date? Not a single one? About this man you seem willing to die for?"

"Well we have been together for six months! We're just so busy with work... we never have time for a proper date!"

Roman, oblivious, hummed in interest. "If you want, I can turn it on now-"

"No, I've got you right now, silly." Patton replied lightheartedly as he started measuring out flour, his tongue sticking out just the slightest in his concentration. Roman tried not to melt at the sight. "I was just saying that I was listening to it last night while I was baking!"

"Baking at night? And here I thought you were the responsible one."

Patton shrugged with a grin. "Couldn't sleep! And you know what they say..."

"Sweetness, I am always thinking about you. I doubt that's what was keeping you up."

Patton shot Roman a special smile that suggested a type of trickery he didn't understand before he went back to his measuring. "Maybe." He said simply before pushing on. "The music station I was listening to kept having interruptions, but that was alright. I liked listening to the people talk. Maybe you've heard of the segment- it's called the Sleepless Hour?"

Roman froze.

"Take my suggestion, hun- schedule time for one. Because as it stands, your man is either a literal angel... or you're just crazy."

"Trust me, it's both."

"So I can tell, given that, from what I've heard tonight, I doubt you dislike a single thing about this Patton."

"Oh, there is one thing I dislike about him."

"Ooooh, spill the tea, sis. Let's here perfect boy's one flaw."

"I, uh... nope. Never heard of it."

"Huh. That's odd." Patton commented, feigning casual indifference. "Considering I could have sworn I heard you on it last night."

"I... you must've mistaken voice."

"Oh, I'd never mistake a voice that indescribably pretty."

Roman sighed as melodramatically as he could manage. "Alright, you've caught me! It was late, and I was craving some proper music, unlike what the heathens had been playing. Sue me for calling in a request-"

"Oh, you were most certainly not just calling in a music request." Patton stopped him before he could continue.

"...I'll take it you actually heard more than just the very end of what I said?"

"I heard every word.”

"...Listen, I was a little drunk, you can't really take everything I said at face value-"

"One flaw, right?"

Roman looked away from Patton, scratching at the back of his neck. "Please tell me you heard even five seconds past that part."

Barely a moment later, Roman saw the blur of light blue and grey suddenly rush at him, wrapping around him and snuggling into his neck within a second. "I meant it when I said every word, love."

"Patton's one flaw is that he's not in my arms right this minute."

Roman only took a moment to collect himself before he hugged Patton back, easily pressing a kiss into Patton's curls before resting his chin on top of them.

"Much better."

"It is." Patton agreed.

"I'm sorry I sleep-drunk ranted about you and your perfection on late night radio."

"It's alright." Patton said, smiling into Roman's neck. "It was sweet. Though it was very rude of you to say all those nice things and be out of cuddling range."

"If I had been in cuddling range I would have just told you all of those things and cut out the middleman."

Patton hummed. "Is it too soon to move in?"

"With no dates under our belts?" Roman said before laughing. "Virgil and Logan would rat us out to Mr. Crescent."

"But I just want you to always be in cuddling range."

"Soon, dearheart, I promise." Roman said fondly. "For now, however, we should probably finish making our cookies so that I might pretend I can win over the favor of my children from you."

"But then I'll have to let go of you." Patton whined. "And I don't wanna."

Roman smiled as he moved on his hands, slowly rubbing calming circles into Patton's back. "You don't have to let go just yet."

"Aren't you just the biggest sap this side of the Mississippi."

"I should hope to be."

"Well, I wish you two the best of luck with your no-dates dating. Dave says I have to wrap it up here, but I'd feel bad if I didn't ask you if you had a song request in mind?"

"Nah. I'm just here to make sure everyone knows I'll never love another man as much as I love Patton."

"I think we got the message loud and clear, sugar. Still lovely to chat with you. I'll see if I can't find somethin' that's got the right tune for you two."

Whether or not the radio was on didn't matter, because the song Remy had put on last night was no longer playing, but that was alright. They had still heard it, even if separately, and the sentiment still echoed even without sound. Maybe they hadn't actually called each other last night, but that was alright too. There would be plenty of chances for it in the future.

I Just Called to Say I Love You plays

[kirikinni]

Kill Someone For You | bkdk

Summary: The hero world isn’t as spotless as they make it seem and Izuku Midoriya learns this reality just before he’s supposed to make his way to UA high but old habits die hard and there’s only so much of himself Izuku can kill off.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Izuku Midoriya

Word Count: 4k

Themes: vil!deku, izuku always returns to katsuki, katsuki soft boy, angst

Warning: blood, mention of murder, mention of suicide

“Once you get used to it, it’ll be easier.” That was always his mother’s advice, whether it came to riding his bike or controlling his quirk. Keep trying, keep pushing, it’ll become easier with time and that’s exactly what he did.

The first time was difficult, too difficult, there was too much of a mess, he threw up afterwards and couldn’t sleep for days on end. The second and third time wasn’t much better, in fact it didn’t get any easier until around the tenth time.

When he did it in one clean swipe that cut through all the necessary arteries it was easier, the blood that fell back on his face didn’t feel dirty or wrong, his stomach didn’t immediately flip. His comrades waited to see whether they would have to suffer through another vomiting session but to their surprise a smile shone against white skin.

Finally, finally it was easy. It was fun. Finally he had control of the knife.

Izuku Midoriya lost his mother a few weeks before he was set to go to Yuei High School for Heroes, she was stuck in a fire but the heroes decided it was more important to catch the villains than help the poor lady stuck in the elevator. She burnt to death, alone and screaming for her until the flames charred her vocal chords. Izuku didn’t even have a body to bury. He watched them bury an empty casket, stood next to the Bakugou’s as they lowered the casket and listened to all the crying that surrounded him.

He was glad that it was raining that day. Izuku wasn’t sure why he couldn’t cry, why he didn’t but he knew one thing. He wouldn’t be going to Yuei, his love for heroes, his admiration to the special class of society had been buried along with his mothers casket. He declined the invitations to stay with the Bakugou’s that night, said he wanted to be next to his mother. Told Mistuki he would be over the next day, promised her that he would be okay and he would call Kachaan if anything happened. She let him go with a kiss to the forehead and a packed box of food. Katsuki hugged for the first time, told him that they would avenge her death together and called him a nerd for good measure.

Izuku smiled, grateful for them. He always knew Kachaan liked him, even if he didn’t show it. Izuku laid in his mothers bed for a few hours, he laid there and counted the cracks in the ceiling, they seemed to extend and crawl across the cement the longer he stared. He wondered if he was going crazy or maybe his quirk was making him see things. Whatever the case he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the ceiling cracks until the bell rang. Izuku dragged himself off the bed and to the door.

“Hello, I have a package for Inko Midoriya. Is she here?”

“No, she’s dead. Thank you.”

Izuku carried the package inside, closing the door behind him leaving a very confused and a little scared delivery man on the other side. He sat on the floor and opened the packaging careful not to rip it, Inko didn’t like it when he was messy or impatient. It was a green onesie, Izuku smiled. They didn’t have much but his mother tried her best, she was better than those cowards who left her to burn, she deserved better.

The next thing Izuku knew he was sitting on his knees in an alleyway, soaked through to his bones, his cheeks had sunken in too far. He didn’t look much like himself anymore but it didn’t really matter, he didn’t feel much like himself either. Izuku stumbled into a bar that day, the back exit left open seemed like an invitation. The warmth inside and the soft smell of roasted nuts made his body react against his minds warnings. Izuku stepped through the door and well the rest became just details.

The League of Villains took him in, he formed a new identity, tried to help them form a better plan to attack the school, he supplied Shigaraki with his ID that was already delivered to him so he could sneak into the school. Izuku used his quirk to help hide the location of their hideout while Kurogiri snuck them in and out of USJ, Izuku became important or at least he thought he did. He mistook Shigaraki wanting his useful quirk for Shigaraki caring about him and that painful truth came to light when they met with a particular villain who would only join the LOV if they promised to help her kill a certain student from UA academy.

There were many things Izuku Midoriya turned away from, he didn’t really care much about the heroes in training, the pro heroes who suffered at the hands of the LOV. Midoriya didn’t care much about the actions and crimes they committed anymore but there was one thing he simply couldn’t excuse, one person he cared about too much, one life he refused to endanger.

There was one person he would never give up on, one he knew would become a real hero. Someone who would save people, someone who would always win and no one could hurt him, no one was allowed to hurt him so when some lowlife bank robber demanded the boys head on a stick all Midoriya could do was twist her neck so far it snapped. He felt warm liquid splash across his face, he tried to wipe it away but really only managed to smudge it across his face.

“What the fuck Midoriya?”

“She can’t touch him.”

“She was valuable.”

“I don’t give a fuck he’s off limits.”

That made Shigaraki mad, he was in charge. He was the boss but this little kid was standing here in his face telling him who he could and couldn’t kill, this kid who he took in from the goodness of his heart and taught how to kill was defying him. That was the last Midoriya saw of Shigaraki or The League because one minute Shigaraki’s hand was aimed for his face ready to kill him and the next he was stumbling through a portal.

He fell onto the pavement in an alleyway on his hands and knees, he looked around disoriented the familiar buzzing of Kurogiri’s portals in his ears. He had been saved, he had been given a chance to run, to save himself but all he wanted to do was crawl back to The League and beg their forgiveness. He sat there, knees folded into himself letting free tears fall as he felt the loss of a home for the second time. He knew he couldn’t go back now, it was much too late for him. Shigaraki doesn’t forgive insubordination, he had seen it before, he knew how it worked and he knew he was alone again.

Midoriya sat there for hours as he watched the sun set and the sky become blanketed in a darkness that hid everything from view. He crawled out for behind the slab of concrete he was hiding and stared out into the street, there were people walking around, moving along to the background tracks of the city night but he couldn’t see their faces. He could still move, if he wanted to move he would have to do it under the night. He was a wanted criminal, his face was on a different edition of every newspaper at least once a week, there were warrants out for his arrest and rewards promised for any information so if he wanted to move he would need to use the night.

Izuku pulled his hood over his head and walked out of the alleyway, stayed close to the wall and kept his eyes and ears pealed for sirens or the unmistakable sounds of heroes announcing their arrival. He kept walking, hands shoved deep in his pockets, he was seventeen years old and alone for the second time. Midoriya scoffed at how pathetic the situation was, how pathetic he was to keep jumping from temporary situations to another. He didn’t know where he was going, for the second time in his life he let his feet lead him to wherever they wanted to go. He didn’t think about where he was going until he recognized the cracks on the pavement and the pink roses that grew in full bloom next to a large tree that had seen him grow.

“Kachaan.”

Of course his feet would lead him here, of course with nothing else to do and nowhere else to go he would find his way right back to Katsuki Bakugou’s home. He wondered what he would say, what would his Kachaan say if he saw him, would he scream at him? Call the cops or try to fight and subdue him all on his own. Whatever he did Midoriya realized he wanted nothing more than to find out so he followed his feet again right up to the front steps of his house and rang the bell. Only later did he realize how week the plan was, his mom could have opened the door, his parents could’ve been at home, hell so many things could happen but these thoughts were nonexistent as Midoriya listened to the heavy footsteps approach the door.

He chuckled to himself at the cursing that came through the door, swearing he would kill whoever disturbed his sleep. Katsuki opened the door, sneer painted on his eyes and red eyes set ablaze ready to threaten whoever was on the other side until he saw who it was that it.

The minute Katsuki’s red eyes connected with Izuku’s green the fire drowned out. It was drenched with the water that pooled in Izuku’s eyes. Katsuki took approximately thirty seconds to take in the person standing in front of him, the same green bouncy curls and carefully position freckles as if they were drawn on. The same shining eyes and slightly tanned complexion, he was the same except older and taller, but the same. It took Katsuki thirty seconds to pull Izuku into himself and wrap his arms around the other in a hug.

Midoriya was stunned into silence, he had expected all kinds of violent and angry reactions, he had fully expected to be pushed to the ground, a blast of fire poised at his face but not this. Not strong hands wrapped around his body holding onto him as though he was a lifeline but it came to an end, eventually he let go and stepped back.

“Deku?”

“H-hi Kachaan.”

A few more seconds passed and it was like something dawned on Katsuki as his face changed, a sneer took over the surprise and hatred, pure unaltered hatred seeped into his expressions.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“I-”

“You here with your new fucking friends? The fucking leage of villain deku? Are you fucking insane? Are they here with you huh? Ill blast them to bits, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“N-no Kachaan they’re not here I’m not…”

“You’re not what? You’re not a fucking criminal? You’re not the one who helped organize the attack on my class? You’re not the piece of shit liar who promised we would be the best heroes? You’re not fucking what Deku?” He demanded, his hands folded across his chest. The crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, if Midoriya had the guts to look up the tears glistening in Bakugou’s eyes would have been more than enough proof that what he felt was betrayal.

“Kachaan I couldn’t not after mom, I just couldn’t” he said, his hands grasping each other tight. Midoriya didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know why he was here or what he wanted Katsuki to do.

“Fuck you Deku. What do you want? You’re on the fucking news you piece of shit, they’re looking for you. Your new friends they sold you out, offered up information about you. You’ve always been a fucking idiot, never knew how to pick friends-”

“I did it for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“They kicked me out because I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

The only sounds they could hear were the sounds of the crickets and the wind rustling in the trees. Katsuki looked at him, really looked at him and saw the thinness of his face and how his cheeks where sunken in. The darkened bags under his eyes and the scars on his hands and neck. He saw the blood smudged across the third freckle from the nose on the right, his favorite freckle on Izuku and took a deep breath. Katsuki really looked at Izuku for a few seconds before pulling him inside and closing the door.

“Stay.”

Katsuki disappeared into the house Izuku had spent so much of his childhood in, he kept his hands tied in front of him, all the charisma and confidence he had built working as a villain melting away as he stood near the doorframe too afraid to lean against it. Izuku didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t know if Katsuki was going to call the cops and turn him in or kill him all on his own. He didn’t know what was going to happen and it didn’t sit well with him but when Katsuki came back with a towel draped over his shoulder and a box of pills he was left stunned for a second time.

“Come here nerd.” He said and turned around again and walked into the guest washroom.

Izuku stared for a second before following him into the washroom. “Sit.” Izuku obeyed and sat down on the closed toilet and watched as Katsuki filled up a small bucket with water and set it down next to him. He bent down on his knees, coming to face level with Izuku. He was too close, too close for comfort and Izuku felt his breath get caught in his throat when they locked eyes.

Katsuki was the first to look away, he dunked the towel in the bucket and brought it to Izuku’s face. One hand holding his jaw in place, rough calloused hands that had been burnt over and over against Izuku’s skin. His hands, hands that Izuku always knew to be rude and violent where soft on his face as he wiped the blood away.

“Why?”

“Hm?” Izuku wasn’t paying attention, he was too busy being hyper focused on the lack of distance between the two of them, on the way Katsuki’s breathing fell on his nose and brushed past his lips, on how his fingers caught on his skin and the way his hips kept knocking against Izuku’s knees. Izuku was so focused on Katsuki that he forgot to actually pay attention to what he was saying.

“Why did you protect me?”

“You’re Kachaan…” Izuku said, as if that was the only answer necessary. It seemed obvious enough to Izuku, of course he would protect Kachaan. He would always protect Kachaan, he was his best friend, his favorite person, the only person he believed could save the hero world. Of course he would protect Kachaan.

“That’s not enough Deku, you left. You fucking ran away after Aunties- after she passed and the next thing I see is your face on the news along with fucking Shigaraki and Kurogiri. What the fuck was I supposed to do Deku?” He asked, his voice tight with pain and betrayal. He refused to look at Izuku, refused to meet his eyes.

“I- Kachaan I don’t…”

“No shitty nerd let me finish. Why the fuck would you protect me after all of that, why did you leave me?” He finally asked, looking up from the bucket. There were tears glistening in Katsuki’s eyes as he finally looked Izuku in the eyes.

“I didn’t have anything left Kachaan, she was gone, I didn’t no I couldn’t go to UA. Be around those heroes, hear their stories and pretend like I respected them. Fuck Kachaan I couldn’t be around all of them again.” He said, forcing himself to keep Katsuki’s gaze. His hand raised to grip Katsuki’s trying to steady himself.

“You had me. You always fucking had me Deku, even if everything else went to shit you always fucking had me but you left. You didn’t even try to talk to me, didn’t even stop for a second to think that you could have stayed with me. I would have fucking helped you Izuku, I could’ve helped you.”

“I- Kachaan… I'm sorry.” Izuku didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know why he came or what he wanted but he didn’t want to leave. He needed to feel Katsuki’s warm hands against his skin, he needed to hear his voice even if it was just to insult him or reprimand him. He needed Katsuki.

“Stand up.” Katsuki said and stepped back all too soon, Izuku nearly gasped aloud at the sudden coldness, nearly. He washed the cloth and hung it up to dry, washed the bucket and kept it flipped over on the counter, washed his hands and dried them on his pants. “You need to eat.”

He didn’t say much else but Izuku rose and followed him, followed him to the kitchen and stood behind him like an injured animal waiting to be saved or put down. He didn’t know and he hated it, he hated not knowing so he waited and he chewed on his lip and he dug his nails deep into his palms.

Katsuki slid a plate towards Izuku, it was simple, just a piece of bread and some meat that had been made into a gravy. Leftovers from dinner. Katsuki leaned on the counter so he was eye level with Izuku, red eyes bore into green until he couldn’t take it anymore. Izuku looked away first.

“What did you do?”

“What?”

“What did you do for them to kick you out?”

“I- I told you Kachaan I told them they couldn’t hurt you.”

“No. You had blood on your face shitstain. You did something now tell me what it fucking was.”

“Kachaan I don’t-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me Deku, tell me what you did or god help me I’ll call the cops right now. You’re still a fucking villain, I’ll turn you in and collect whatever fucking honor they wanna bestow on me.” Katsuki stopped and grabbed Izuku’s chin, forcing him to look at the blonde, “Now. Tell. Me.” He said, every word settling into Izuku like a new bullet.

“I killed someone for you.” He whispered, his lips barely open, the words barely even left his mouth and he knew he had messed up when the grip on his chin tightened.

“Louder.”

“I killed someone.” He said, finally, finally raising his eyes to meet Katsuki’s, “I killed someone for you.”

Katsuki stepped back, almost fell over his own feet and pressed his back against the refrigerator. Fear passed over his face as he stared at Izuku, poor defenseless Izuku who need Katsuki to hold his hand when they crossed the street, crybaby Izuku who cried when his ball rolled onto the street and a car popped it, stupid Izuku who hung onto Katsuki’s coattails despite being kicked to the ground over a hundred times.

“I killed someone for you.” The words echoed in his mind, Izuku’s voice on repeat as he heard it again and again. It was like it was his fault, he was the one who did it, the blood was on his hands, smeared on his face and the knife was tucked away in his pockets not the other way around.

Izuku got up and walked around the counter, he stood a few steps away from Katsuki like he was afraid to scare him. “Kachaan…” he whispered like nothing had changed, nothing was different. There where no confessions, no blood stains covering Katsuki’s favorite freckle, nothing, only Kachaan and Deku and a sandbox between them. “Kachaan I had to.” Katsuki shook his head, he didn’t want to hear anymore, didn’t want to be here anymore, he wanted to be in the sandbox again. He understood the sandbox, he understood stupid crybaby deku and powerful superhero Kachaan, he wanted the sandbox. “Kachaan she was going to kill you, I couldn’t let her hurt you. I did it for you, always for you.” He was still speaking but Katsuki had closed his eyes, he wasn’t here, he wasn’t in the kitchen, he was seven years old and he was trying to make a castle with the wet sand in the sandbox and Izuku was getting more water to help.

Izuku stepped closer, he reached out and took Katsuki’s hands in his own. He held the trembling palms tight, trying to calm them down, trying to draw out the panic and replace it with peace, with understanding. “Kachaan please don’t be afraid, I’d never hurt you. You’re my favorite person, my best friend. I’d never hurt you, I just couldn’t let them hurt you. Never you.” He spoke again, merely a breath away from the blonde, “Katsuki I love you, I would never hurt you.” He spoke, finally connecting the space between them.

Izuku kissed him, he kissed him slowly but before he could move away Katsuki kissed him back. His lips moved in time with Izuku’s and his hands wrapped around green locks, holding on tight with so much desperation, so much want and longing that Izuku could do nothing but cling onto his shirt. Izuku pushed him back against the fridge as the kiss deepened, his tongue finding it’s way inside Katsuki’s mouth, he felt his cheeks become wet but he wasn’t crying, no this time it was Katsuki. Hot tears fell from Katsuki’s eyes and the salt mixed with their exchange of saliva. Before Izuku knew it Katsuki was begging him, as much as he could without separating their bodies he was begging Izuku to stay, begging him to tell him that it was a lie, it was a joke. Begging Izuku to just be okay and all of a sudden he knew what he had to do. Izuku brought his hands up to Katsuki’s neck, caressed it slowly, letting his finger tips drape over the curves and edges and bumps. He felt Katsuki whine into the kiss but he couldn’t give in, not now. Izuku explored his neck with his fingers, eyes closed, he was feeling around in the dark on a terrain that was so familiar to him but so foreign until he found it.

“I’m sorry Kachaan.” He whispered and pressed down.

He felt Katsuki gasp at the pressure. He saw his eyes fly open at the realization and saw betrayal, hurt, anger, everything flashed by in a matter of seconds and then Katsuki Bakugou was a lump on the floor. Izuku bent down and stuck a hand under his nose to check his breathing, everything was okay, he was only unconscious, he would awake in a few hours. Izuku bent down and brushed away the hair from his forehead, he smiled at Katsuki’s peaceful face. Empty of any worry or fear, he bent down and placed a soft kiss against his forehead.

“I love you, I’m sorry.”

Those where the last words Izuku Midoriya said to Katsuki Bakugou. The next morning Katsuki woke up in his bed, he looked around, sat up and felt a stinging pain in his neck. He brought his hand up to it and felt the knot that had grown and his thoughts flashed back to the night before. A strange dream, that was all it was. A strange dream and a bad sleeping position. When he finally made his way downstairs his parents were seated in front of the television, holding hands, silent.

“Oi! Why are you so quiet? Fuckin weird.” He called out, muttering the last bit under his breath.

“Katsuki.” His mother whispered, turning around at his voice. It scared him, his mother never whispered. She screamed, she yelled and she shouted, never whispered.

“Whats going on?” He asked, his voice smaller than usual, much more unsure than usual. His neck was hurting again, he pressed a palm to the aching knot as he stared at his mothers teary eyes.

“Katsuki come here.” His father called, trying his best to keep his voice steady. His eyes where glistening as well.

“No. Tell me what the hell is going on and why you two old bags are crying like little kids.” His heart was pounding in his chest, Katsuki’s lips felt strange. They felt empty, like something was missing and while he glared at his parents he couldn’t help the panic that had started to build in his throat.

“Izuku…” his mother finally said, nothing more than a ghost of a whisper but it was more than enough. In the quiet of the house the name carried across and landed on Katsuki’s ears. He turned his attention to the TV and finally saw it. The footage of paramedics carrying out a stretcher with a blanket covering it.

“Villain Deku, original name Izuku Midoriya, found near Rising Star Apartment Complex in Musutafa City. Officials say he jumped from the terrace of building two, dying on impact. The villain was only fifteen-“

The rest of the reporter was drowned out by Katsuki’s screams. The entire neighborhood heard and the entire neighborhood knew that the angry blonde in house four had learned that his little green haired best friend had killed himself.

- 

I mean this ain’t the first time i’m posting my writing obvi but it is the first time im posting mha here so ofc it had to be angst. pls give me bnha friends okay thank you love you

[shigaraxi]

Suns Out | Shigabaku | T 

Chapter 2 of Tuesday Rates! The obligatory Beach Episode ft. Bad Lifeguards and Bad Drown Victim etiquette. Read it Here or under readmore

Tomura really didn’t want to be here.

“Don’t be a party pooper,” Toga says, rubbing sunscreen along her upper arm. “It’ll be fun.”

Dabi agrees between inflating puffs of the large beach ball. “What kind of friends-” puff “-would we be-” puff “-if we just let you rot-” puff, Tomura’s eyebrow twitches “-in your room again all summer?” Happy with the size, Dabi caps the beach ball. 

“You guys aren’t my—hey!” Dabi snickers, catching the ball after bouncing it off Tomura’s head.

“Sure man, whatever you say.”

They are at the beach and Tomura really really doesn’t want to be here. Or outside, in general. Especially not with people. Oh how he ached to be back in his air conditioned room with his blacked out curtains and computer. No, instead here he is with sweat prickling and sand sticking to his skin, sitting on a hot beach towel under this oppressing sun. Tomura glares at the wide-brimmed sun hat at his feet that Toga had given him like it personally dishonored him. Those heathens didn’t even let him have his console either.

A sunscreen bottle is tossed to him which he responds with tossing it right back harder. 

Toga catches it and shrugs, bagging the bottle in Dabi’s tote. “It’s not our fault if you get burnt!”

“Hm!”

At least they had a beach umbrella. Tomura plans on not moving from this spot.

.

Huh. It’s hard to think but there’s someone...talking? He can’t hear what they’re saying, sounding too distant and muffled to make out the words from the garble. The voice begins getting desperate, pitch heightening as it continues babbling. Tomura feels really tired. Maybe he’ll try to understand later...when the pull of his lids don’t feel so heavy—

“—LIVE GODDAMN IT!”

Tomura shoots up because what the fuck, was he just slapped?! His cheeks are stinging, he's doubling over, mouth full of salt water and seaweed. Through his hacking, he vaguely hears a Kacchan… from a very dismayed voice, followed by a hysterical laugh from whoever this Kacchan is. 

“There’s no such thing as going overboard, Deku, he’s alive, ain’t he?”

“Yeah, but—”

“But, what? I just saved his life, I’m a goddamn hero.” What the fuck. Tomura wipes his mouth. The two look at him. The blonde, Kacchan, is the one to say, “I’m your goddamn hero.”

The green haired, Deku, one jabs Kacchan in the ribs. “Please ignore him! How are you feeling? Any chest pains, tingly sensations?” He doesn’t wait for Tomura to respond, instead turning to Kacchan to say, “Go get him a towel! He must be freezing.”

Kacchan huffs and stands, leaving to presumably get a towel (Tomura could hear mild curses from under his breath as he stalks away) while Deku turns back to him. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a bit crabby, is all. He means well. I’m Midoriya and that was Bakugou, by the way, we’re the lifeguards on duty,” he says with a mild laugh. “You almost drowned on us!”

Midoriya had an arm around him, Tomura belately realizes as he rambles on some more, probably to keep him sitting steady. When he tries to lean away, Midoriya removes his arm, apologizing, “Sorry, sorry, shock can be unpredictable. Are you feeling any better?”

Now that he mentions it, Tomura thinks, wetting his lips, his throat feels like absolute sandpaper and he still feels somewhat faint. Not that he would admit it, but it's the thought that counts. Plus, even if he wanted to respond Well, yeah, I feel like shit, a towel is thrown over his head. “Oi, he probably drank half the ocean. Let the guy rest,” says Bakugou. Tomura snorts quietly, pulling the towel around his shoulders. “I couldn’t find any extra towels so I gave you mine, you better give it back.”

“I nearly drowned,” Tomura replies, voice croaky and just barely audible, as he takes the water bottle Bakugou offers him. He twists it open, dripping as much sarcasm as he can into his words, “and you care about this? Some lifeguard you are.”  He takes a sip from the bottle. God does his throat hurt.

The way Bakugou’s face scrunches in irritation almost made Tomura laugh but instead, he hides his smile behind another sip. “Listen asshole, I can put you back in the ocean and laugh as your pasty ass tries to save itself. You should be fucking thankful.” 

Before Tomura would retort, a couple voices call out for him. Dabi and Toga. They must’ve been playing one rigorous game of volleyball because they’re covered in sand and sweat.

“We were wondering where you went,” Toga says, putting the volleyball under her arm. “We thought you ran away!” 

Tomura scoffs but Toga quickly ignores him, opting to look at the other two with him, particularly at Midoriya. She steps over Tomura’s legs, looking gleeful, to get closer. “Oh, hello! Are you guys lifeguards? What happens to our poor little Tomura-chan?”

“Toga,” the ‘poor little’ Tomura warns. Dabi laughs and helps him to his feet.

Toga continues to ignore him. Midoriya gives a nervous smile as he makes a pointed effort to look at anywhere but at Toga as she skitters closer and closer. “Uh, we-er, he saw your friend struggling to swim and pulled him to shore.” At the he, Midoriya had made a half effort wave to Bakugou’s general direction, who huffs, not paying them a dime of attention. “If it weren’t for Kacchan, he could’ve been a goner!” 

Toga nods, not listening one bit. It’s Dabi who snorts at the story and upends Tomura’s head. “Nice going, idiot. Have you thanked him yet?”

Tomura scowls and huffs. While that he was a little thankful, he wouldn’t admit it to that asshole of all people. Dabi seems to get that and instead chooses to ruffle his hair with a chuckle. 

Bakugou announces his leave with annoyance.

“I should get going too,” Midoriya said not far after, probably thankful for this out from Toga’s insistent chatter, as he follows after his partner in ocean surveillance. 

Dabi throws his arms over Tomura’s and Toga’s shoulders, saying as simple as possible, as Tomura watches them go, “Welp, at least you didn’t scare them away.”

Tomura eyes the arm around him. “I hate you both.”

Dabi laughs as Toga sighs. “Don’t worry, you’ll see your new boytoy again.” Tomura wasn’t sure who he was referring to, Toga who was looking dreamily after Midoriya or to him. 

Actually, he doesn’t want to know.

After that, Tomura sticks to their designated area for the rest of the day. Lucky for him, Dabi was lenient enough to give him back his PS Vita console because the almost drowning victim deserved at least some slack. The towel was over his head now, covering himself from the setting sun that refused to shine over the beach umbrella (and he wouldn’t be caught dead with that sun hat). He’s tapping the keys harshly, the fighting sounds rolled on the highest setting, and he’s so incredibly close to winning, and—

“Oi.”

His thumb slips on the toggle stick, breaking his ultimate combo, and watches in disbelief as Game Over title sequences flash across his screen. He stares at the syncopated message until the device just falls out of his hands as the little loser jingle rings out on loop. He puts his face in them instead.

“Uh...hey dude.” Oh yes, the reason for his failure. The words chip out from Tomura’s mouth, each stop full of as much barely controlled anger as he can possibly fit.

“What. Do. You. Want.”

Whoever it was standing behind him shifts on their feet, the sand softly crunching beneath. At some point, his console powered itself off and it’s then the person finally states, voice awfully familiar, “I said I wanted my towel back.”

Oh, it’s him. The crappy lifeguard. “Just take it,” Tomura laments into his hands. The towel resting over his head and back is swiped, but instead of the sun heat hitting his pale back, Bakugou’s shadow saves him. “While you’re at it, throw me back into the ocean too. I can’t handle this loss..." 

Bakugou snorts. “Jesus, dude, it’s just a game. Just do it again.” 

“It’s not just a game,” he quickly retorts, raising his face from his hands to shoot a glare over his shoulder. Bakugou has a hand on his hip, towel thrown over his shoulder, as he stands looking unimpressed as Tomura speaks. “It was a speedrun. I was so close to beating my records and then you had to come here and…” scare me is something Tomura would never admit, even if his life depended on it. Except Bakugou is laughing because fuck Tomura. “...ruin it,” he finished, instead, turning back around.

However, Bakugou doesn’t take the hint and doesn’t leave. Tomura thinks he’s never hated a person as much as he does right now. To add salt to the wound, when he tries to further his point of wanting to be left alone by picking up his console, the fucking thing had the audacity to blink the red battery light and power off once again, completely dead. Tomura groans as he drops the thing again.

“There. Now you have my attention because the world is awful and hates me. What do you want?” 

Bakugou laughs at his pain. Jeez. “Deku told me to go see how you’re doing—”

“Fine,” Tomura interrupts.

“—cause he’s scared of your freaky friends.” 

“They’re not my friends,” he replies out of habit, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. Good to know normal people are scared of them, maybe they’d be left alone more. “Don’t you have an ocean to watch?” 

“Shifts over,” Bakugou answers. “I needed my towel back before I left.”

Tomura makes a half hearted wave to the towel in Bakugou’s possession with a ‘now leave me alone’ implied, but just for extra zing, because he feels festive, he says, “There, you have it. Now leave me alone.” and turns back around to slump over his knees to be left alone to his utter and complete misery. 

Except, the cool shadow covering his back doesn’t retreat. Why isn’t it retreating—wait is he still there, he can’t be that stupid— “Actually…” the shadow that will not be named because Tomura no longer cares, “there a bonfire later. You should come.”

His ears are working right, right? Like, he heard what this guy said, right? Not having any post-almost-drowning-delusions right now, right? 

Tomura turns around yet again just so he can witness his own sanity possibly failing him. Bakugou looks at him expectfully, where Tomura can only think Wow, we have the same eye color. “So?” Bakugou asks with a raised brow.

He puts it rather eloquently actually, answering, “Uh.” 

A beat passes.

“Did I break you? Did I just break this nerd?”

If anyone asks, this redness in Tomura’s face is from sunburn and sunburn only. Oh he can already hear Dabi’s snickering and Toga’s gushing as he clears his throat, wetting his lips, looking somewhere decidingly not at this rude lifeguard who he begrudgingly admits saved his life. “Uh,” Tomura says, “are you—? Are you being serious right now?”

“Yes, you loser.” Tomura can already hear the amusement in his voice. He has to be fucking with him.

But…

Well...

“Yes?” He said tersely. Then quickly adds, “if it's not lame or anything, I can… I can go.”

Bakugou snorts but, when Tomura looks at him again, he’s smiling. 

Okay, maybe beach day wasn’t that awful of an idea, afterall. 

--

OMAKE: 

“See,” Dabi said as he pats Tomura’s sweet little sunhat covered head as he pulls the brims down to hide his very ‘sunburnt’ red face. “I know my friends better than they know themselves. You totally had a thing for him.”

“Shut up,” he mutters dejectedly into the straw. 

Dabi only laughs because he knows under that hat, theres a dumb smile plastered on there.

[fly-flower-fanfics]

Lost Memories

Peter Parker x Male Reader

Warnings: None

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Peter," I greeted as I made my way through the living room. "I'm heading out to the café to grab something. Would you like anything?"

Peter looked over at me, giving me a small smile. "No, it's all good."

"Would you like to come along?" I offered. "You needn't if you don't want to. I know you're doing something." I gestured to the television that he was watching. "I just didn't know if you wanted to get out of the tower for a little while."

He shrugged and shut off the tv. "Ah, sure. The episode was over anyway." Peter grabbed his jacket and put it on.

The café wasn't that far away, and it wasn't uncommon for the two of us to go there. Peter was my best friend, and the two of us were inseparable. There was basically not Peter without me and no me without him.

My feelings had grown past a friendship, though, even though I was embarrassed to admit it. I hated seeming like one of those cliché type of people. Especially since the two of us were men. I didn't even know how he felt about gay couples.

Our short walk was filled with light conversation, talking about what we had done that day. It was a lazy day for the Avengers. No one needed capturing, Loki was behaving himself as much as he could, and the world seemed peaceful for a change.

It was barely two in the afternoon, so the sun was shining bright in the sky. The trees swayed peacefully in the wind, and I couldn't help but smile. It was a beautiful day to be spending with the most beautiful person I knew.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" I asked Peter for what was probably the tenth time.

Peter laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. I don't need anything."

Once I reached the counter, I pulled out my wallet. "Hi, can I have a hot chocolate and two blueberry muffins?" I glanced over my shoulder at Peter. "You're getting something anyway because I don't wanna sit here by myself and look dumb while you sit there with nothing."

I paid and stood off to the side to wait for my drink. My eyes scanned the small place before settling on a man that I wish I would never see again. The stark red hair against his black clothing was enough to give away who he was. But he turned to kiss his new boyfriend, showing me more of his face.

My heart sunk, and I turned my head away. I immediately felt like today was one of the most disgusting days ever. As I took my drink and the two muffins, I moved to a corner booth. I made sure to sit where my back was facing him, even though I could no longer see him. He'd probably left by now or something.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked, reaching across the table to place his hand on top of mine.

"Hm? O-oh. Um, yeah."

"Who was that?"

I sighed, dropping my eyes back to my hands where Peter's thumb was gentle stroking the side of my own. "That-that was, um, one of my exes. His name's Ina. He-he was my first serious relationship." A dry laugh left my lips. "After all these years, you'd think that he wouldn't sour my mood the second I laid my eyes on him."

"I'm sorry," Peter said quietly.

I just shook my head. "He didn't do anything bad. He was a decent boyfriend. He-he just... up and left. I didn't get any reason; I didn't get any closure. And to this day, it breaks my heart when I see him because all the memories we had fill my head and... how am I supposed to know what he actually meant and what he was faking?"

I removed my hands from underneath his and gave him one of the muffins. I didn't want to talk about Ina anymore because I already knew I was on the brink of tears. I was over him, truly, I was, but the knowledge of never gettin g answers or closure still burnt a hole straight through my heart. Endings were always something hard for me to grasp, but it was even harder knowing that the end was never explained.

I cleared my throat as I looked up at Peter. His eyes were soft and full of concern. I really just didn't want to talk about it though.

"I'll cry if you don't eat that," I said and pointed to the muffin that sat untouched in front of him.

Peter looked down at it before smiling. "alright, alright."

I took a sip from my drink, trying to ignore the heavy feeling on my heart. "Any new news to share? Anything interesting happen lately?"

"No," he answered. "But Mr. Stark won't stop teasing me about the person I like."

I set my drink down, my hands pressed flat against the table. "Oh? Is she nice? Pretty? Totally worth it?"

Peter laughed and took a bite of his muffin. "Yeah, he is."

I nearly choked on my own spit. He? Did I hear him correctly? Did he just say he? Did that mean I eventually may have a chance?

"Tell me about him! Spill. Spill it, Peter Parker."

A blush heated up Peter's cheeks as his eyes dropped to the muffin that he was now picking at. "Ah-ah, well, he's nice. And he's funny. And he's absolutely adorable. He's-he's quite handsome. I could stare into his eyes all day, ya know?"

The longer Peter talked, the larger my smile got. I knew that there was no way in hell that he was talking about me, but I wanted Peter to be happy, and it sounded like this man — whoever he was — clearly did the job.

Peter finished wish a large smile, his face flushed red. "I-I'm sorry."

"No, no. He sounds wonderful. I'm glad he makes you so happy. When you finally ask him out, you better bring him around so I can meet him! I need to see if this man is going to meet my standards for you," I replied with a smile.

Peter just shook his head slightly as he looked down at his half finished muffin. We finished our snacks and headed out of the café once more. My day had gotten a little bit brighter after listening to Peter ramble about his crush.

"Do you like anyone?"

I turned my attention back to Peter who was leading me towards a park. I felt my own cheeks heat up as I shrugged.

"Yeah, but I know that he doesn't like me back. He likes someone already, ya know? And I'm happy for him. Sucks cuz it isn't me, but if he's happy, then I'm happy. I've always wanted what was best for him anyway."

I shoved my hands into my pockets, letting my eyes roam around once more. The sun didn't seem as bright as it did before, and the trees seemed to be a bit more droopy. I took a seat on one of the red swings, scuffing the tips of my shoes against the dirt underneath me.

"Do you want me to tell Tony to shut it for you?" I asked, snickering to myself.

"Oh, he already knows who he is. Mr. Stark would never let me hear the end of it if you said something to him about it.

"That's what best friends do though," I said as I pushed myself backwards on the swing, causing it to move. "Stand up for one another. Only I get to make fun of you for the man you're in love with."

Peter laughed and followed suit, allowing himself to swing. "Does that mean I get to make fun of you?"

"No," I relied, smiling as I closed my eyes. "He's much too pure for that. He's too soft and sweet for anyone to make fun of him, even you. Sorry, I don't make the rules, Pete."

We swung in silence for a little while, small talk filling it every now and again. I didn't want to go back to the tower, but I wasn't sure if the others would somehow need us. Eventually, we got off the swings and headed back into the direction of the tower. We'd been out for about an hour and a half, and I guess that that was long enough.

"What do you do if you're afraid that asking him out would ruin something great you already have?" Peter asked me as we entered the elevator.

"Well... you never know. If that something great is already pretty strong, you two should be able to get over it and move on. It'll be a little awkward at first, but it should eventually go back to the way thing were. You never know if you don't try."

My own words repeated themselves in my head. You never know if you don't try. I closed my eyes and tucked my lip between my teeth. I wouldn't ever know if I didn't try. The soft rumbling of the elevator was all that I could hear, and somehow, it felt encouraging.

"Peter?" I asked softly, looking over at him.

He turned his head to look at me. His hair was fluffed out from the wind, and it looked utterly beautiful. His eyes were so perfect, twinkling softly like they held starlight inside of them. His lips were a light pink, slightly damp from him running his tongue over top of them. His cheek bones were totally kissable.

I shook my head out of the trance-like state I was in to finish what I wanted to say — or try to.

"Peter... Peter, you don't know anything unless you ask or try. And I've lost out on so many opportunities because I was afraid to ask or do. And I'm tired of that." I adjusted myself so my whole body was facing him and not just my head. "So I'm going to go for it." I took a deep breath. "I love you, Peter. You're the man I'm in love with. And I know you like someone already, but I want you to know that I love you. I'm in love with you. And god, it's probably selfish of me to say this now... I just want to tell you, to say, just in case I ever get the chance to be with you."

Peter looked back at me, turning himself to face me. A small smile formed on his lips as he enveloped me into a hug.

"I love you, too," he whispered. "I'm not in love with anyone else other than you."

"I-I thought-"

"I know," he reassured me, leaning his forehead on mine." I know. But I'm in love with you. And it's you that I want."

I could feel his warm breath over my face. It was driving me incredibly insane. He loves me. He loved me. I pressed my lips against his, holding him close by the sides of his unzipped jacket. His hands gripped my hips as he returned the kiss.

The elevator dinged, signaling we had reached Peter's floor. He held my hand and pulled me out of the elevator with him.

"I wasn't done kissing you," Peter mumbled with a blush, leading me back to his room.

As soon as he closed the door, he pulled me up against him and kissed me again. His lips were so soft, softer than I thought that they would be. God, he was so damn perfect. His hands traveled to my waist, pressing our bodies closer together.

"I don't think I'll ever be done," I admitted once he paused for air.

"I'm okay with that."

[olivcrfm]

oliver & margo’s playlist @ofmargos IN THE PRESENT WITH YOU.

I’m sitting on the balcony of my college dorm, and I see her. She’s carrying a heavy box, but she has the biggest dorky smile on her face. I wasn’t sure if I was in love with her before, but I am now.

campus by vampire weekend --- “i wake up my shoulders cold i've got to leave here before i go i pull my shirt on walk out the door drag my feet along the floor i pull my shirt on walk out the door drag my feet along the floor then i see you you're walking cross the campus cruel professor studying romances how am i supposed to pretend i never want to see you again? how am i supposed to pretend i never want to see you again?”

diane young by vampire weekend --- “nobody knows what the future holds on said it's bad enough just getting old live my life, they say it's too fast you know i love the past, 'cause i hate suspense if diane young won't change your mind baby baby baby baby right on time.”

nancy from now on by father john misty --- “ooh, flowers and bows milk and honey flow just a couple states below ooh oh, hook me up to the tank and roll me to the door i'm going where my body leads me i can fend for myself with what looks i have left i'll put away a few and pretty soon i'll be breaking things i have of you.”

take a walk by passion pit --- “all these kinds of places make it seem like it's been ages tomorrow's sun with buildings scrape the sky i love this country dearly i can feel the lighter clearly but never thought i'd be alone to try.”

mykonos by fleet foxes --- “the door slammed loud and rose up a cloud of dust on us footsteps follow, down through the hollow sound, torn up and you will go to mykonos with a vision of a gentle coast and a sun to maybe dissipate shadows of the mess you made.”

down in the valley by the head and the heart --- “call it one drink too many call it pride of a man but it don't make no difference if you sit or you stand 'cause they both end in trouble and start with a grin yeah they both end in trouble and start with a grin we do it over and over and over again.”

the girl by city and colour --- “i wish i could do better by you 'cause that's what you deserve you sacrifice so much of your life in order for this to work while i'm off chasing my own dreams sailing around the world please, know that i'm yours to keep my beautiful girl when you cry a piece of my heart dies knowing that i may have been the cause if you were to leave, fulfill someone else's dreams i think i might totally be lost you don't ask for no diamond rings no delicate string of pearls that's why i wrote this song to sing my beautiful girl.”

all i want by passion pit --- “all i want are hooks to hang your flowers from and paper to write letters on 'cause you're all i ever have, it's all i'll ever have when we wake up you engulf me in your love waking up is always still, it's all i'll ever have, it's all i'll ever have and all you need is someone new she's what you can't see the things you think you'll never be that's all i'll ever have, it's all i'll ever have i get the notion that i'm almost there i get the notion that we're getting closer and with one motion it could all go wrong if i'm emotional it'll ruin it all.”

she moves in her own way by the kooks --- “so at my show on monday i was hoping someday you'd be on your way to better things it's not about your make-up or how you try to shape up to these tiresome paper dreams paper dreams honey so now you pour your heart out you're telling me you're far out not about to lie down for your cause but you don't pull my strings 'cause i'm a better man moving on to better things well, uh-oh, oh, i love her because she moves in her own way well, uh-oh, oh, she came to my show just to hear about my day.”

first day of my life by bright eyes --- “this is the first day of my life swear i was born right in the doorway i went out in the rain, suddenly everything changed they're spreading blankets on the beach yours was the first face that i saw i think i was blind before i met you and i don't know where i am, i don't know where i've been but i know where i want to go and so i'd thought i'd let you know yeah, these things take forever, i especially am slow but i realized that need you and i wondered if i could come home.”

green eyes by coldplay --- “honey you are a rock upon which i stand and i come here to talk i hope you understand that green eyes yeah the spotlight, shines upon you and how could anybody deny you i came here with a load and it feels so much lighter now i met you and honey you should know that i could never go on without you green eyes honey you are the sea upon which i float and i came here to talk i think you should know that green eyes you're the one that i wanted to find and anyone who tried to deny you must be out of their mind.”

40 day dream by edward sharpe --- “i been sleepin' for 40 days and i know i'm sleeping 'cause this dream's too amazin' she got gold doorknobs where her eyes used to be one turn and i learned what it really means to see ah, it's the magical mystery kind ah, must be a lie bye bye to the too good to be true kind of love oh, i could die oh now i can die oh i've been sleepin' for 60 days and nobody better pinch me bitch i swear i'll go crazy she got jumper cable lips she got sunset on her breath now i inhaled just a little bit now i got no fear of death now.”

when my time comes by dawes --- “so i pointed my fingers and shouted few quotes i knew, as if something that's written should be taken as true. but every path i had taken and conclusion i drew would put truth back under the knife. and now the only piece of advice that continues to help is anyone that's making anything new only breaks something else.”

where are you now by mumford & sons --- “it came to the end it seems you had heard. as we walked the city streets, you never said a word. when we finally sat down your eyes were full of spite. i was desperate, i was weak i could not put up a fight. but where are you now? where are you now? do you ever think of me in the quiet, in the crowd?”

ho hey by the lumineers --- “i belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart i belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart love we, need it now let's hope, for some 'cause oh, we're bleedin' out.”

m79 by vampire weekend --- “it's gonna take a little time while you're waiting like a factory line i'll ride across the park backseat on the 79 wasted days you've come to pass so go, i know you would not stay it wasn't true, but anyway pollination, yellow cab.”

giving up the gun by vampire weekend --- “your sword's grown old and rusty burnt beneath the rising sun it's locked up like a trophy forgetting all the things it's done  and though it's been a long time you're right back where you started from i see it in your eyes that now you're giving up the gun.”

ends of the earth by lord huron --- “out there's a land that time don't command wanna be the first to arrive no time for ponderin' why i'm-a wanderin' not while we're both still alive to the ends of the earth, would you follow me there's a world that was meant for our eyes to see to the ends of the earth, would you follow me if you will have a say my goodbyes to me.”

all the pretty girls by kaleo --- “all alone, alone again no one lends a helping hand i have waited, i have waited takes it's toll, my foolish pride how long before i see the light i have waited, i have waited for you to lay me down.”

there she goes by the la's --- “there she goes there she goes again racing through my brain and i just can't contain this feeling that remains there she blows there she blows again pulsing through my veins and i just can't contain this feeling that remains.”

simple as this by james bugg --- “tried absolution of the mind and soul it only led me where i should not go oh and the answer well, how could i miss something as simple as this? something as simple as this? i've been falling crashing breaking and all the while you were stood here waiting for me girl.”

falling slowly by glen hansard --- “i don't know you but i want you all the more for that words fall through me and always fool me and i can't react and games that never amount to more than they're meant will play themselves out take this sinking boat and point it home we've still got time raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice you'll make it now falling slowly, eyes that know me and i can't go back and moods that take me and erase me and i'm painted black well, you have suffered enough and warred with yourself it's time that you won.”

[kiruuuuu]

Kapkan/Glaz sequel in which the Spetsnaz go swimming and some... get wetter than others. (Rating E, explicit, ~4.2k words) - The sequel to this oneshot!

.

Glaz’ pencil travels over the thick paper, leaving behind graphite traces which form a whole not yet, but soon. His mind’s eye is closed as he draws exclusively with his physical ones, captures shadows as he sees them and dips and valleys the way they appear before him. Over the soothing practice, he forgets all about the oppressing heat reigning unchecked once more – a few weeks, they were graced with respite from this British record summer, but now it’s returned full force and with a vengeance. Still, it’s easy to leave it behind when he can focus on his favourite hobby. Even if his teammates make it mighty difficult to concentrate.

“Make sure to get me from my best side”, Tachanka rumbles, self-satisfied with the attention he’s receiving.

“Bird’s eye view?”, Fuze guesses from the pool, shit-eating grin immediately extinguished by getting dunked underwater by Kapkan.

“One more unqualified comment like that and I’ll demonstrate why my nickname during training was freight train.”

Their bickering has been going on all day, fuelled by frustration over the heatwave – not even the trip to the SAS-owned pool has managed to lift their spirits significantly. They’re more prickly than usual instead of just lethargic and Glaz knows exactly why. “In German, they’d call your best side your ‘chocolate side’. Marius told me when I sketched his Magpie”, he informs the other three, hoping to defuse the situation somewhat and maybe even switch topics.

“Any side of his is his chocolate side”, states Kapkan, deadpan, and finally allows Fuze to breathe again. “If you didn’t get it – I’m talking about your lovehandles.”

“Shut up or I’ll shove that pool noodle where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Glaz sighs inwardly. He’d been looking forward to lounging by the pool in peace, dip in and out to cool off and get some exercise without ending up panting like he’d just run a marathon, and maybe catch a few glimpses. Just a few. He asked about sketching and stormy eyes locked with his for a split second which felt like forever, and Glaz’ mind already provided ample inspiration, excuses for a specific pose, daydreams and a whole lot more unbidden imagery… but then those grey irises slid away again in disinterest. Whether feigned or not, Glaz couldn’t tell.

Tachanka was the one who volunteered eventually, and instead of relaxing around the people he knows best in this passionless country, Glaz is now stretched out on a chair by the side of the pool, studying the old man’s physique and listening to the other three bicker.

“You can try. I’ve seen you in the water once, and you swim the way you fight – like a tank.”

Kapkan probably thinks his derision comes across as good-natured mockery instead of biting venom. He’s lucky they all have thick skin or one of them would’ve retaliated much more harshly than they tend to do, and a pissed-off Spetsnaz is nothing to scoff at. He has these days when he sharpens his claws on them, like an animal: honing his fangs on his kin, and though he recoils upon a pained sound, he’s planning his next attack nonetheless. Glaz has noticed this since day one – Kapkan carries himself like a predator, watching, assessing, waiting.

He takes himself much too seriously, but a personal jab with no harm intended only would serve to rile him up further instead of prompting a relieved smile.

“I was carrying all my gear. I’d like to see you try to continue your water ballet with Glaz on your shoulders.”

“Hey, you don’t get to watch the show and complain about it!”, Fuze protests. He’s been vainly attempting to gain the upper hand for half an hour now and really should’ve known better than to ask Kapkan of all people to help him improve his hand to hand in water. They all know Kapkan is merciless and not above humiliating his opponent, as showcased by the fact that Kapkan’s hair isn’t even wet and Fuze must’ve swallowed a litre of chlorinated water by now.

“No one would pay money to watch you drown for an hour, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t move so much”, Glaz mutters and instantly regrets drawing attention to himself, because even Fuze and Kapkan cease their wet struggling to regard him curiously.

Tachanka is the one who seems to say what everyone’s thinking: “You’re suspiciously quiet today, lad.”

That’s just my seething fury coupled with the frustration of being disappointed every day, no worries, Glaz thinks and unconsciously glances over at Kapkan, who returns his gaze calmly. “I’m concentrating. Besides, shouldn’t we go back? Our hide-and-seek excuse won’t buy us another hour.”

It’s become an inside joke at Rainbow at this point – an unspoken yet silently agreed upon rule states that once a month, each team is allowed the claim to wanting to improve their navigational skills and sense of perception by utilising the natural terrain of the English countryside. In short: they tell Six they’re basically playing hide and seek so they can go out and do whatever for a few hours. The GIGN have used it to bake a surprise cake for Harry (whose vegan lifestyle makes it difficult to buy cakes for him), the Americans snuck off to Skype with their families on Thanksgiving, and the Germans prepared a barbecue plus an improvised bouncy castle for the 15th of October, when Rainbow celebrates six birthdays all falling into the same week. And today, the Spetsnaz used it to splash around in the SAS-owned pool on base.

Time well spent.

“You’re right. Don’t forget to clean up or it’ll draw suspicion”, Tachanka reminds them and rises from his sunbed like a corpse from a stretcher, complete with groans of the dead and joints popping. “I’ll even help, that’s how refreshed I feel.”

“And the fighting was my idea”, Fuze chimes in between coughs, cheeks reddened and looking wholly miserable, “so I’ll do it.”

Next to him, Kapkan is unfazed by their tussle and surfaces from the pool not even out of breath, rivulets of water running down his torso and making his skin glisten in the indirect sun beams falling in from the skylights. He’s… distracting, and therefore Glaz reacts entirely too late to his teammate joining him and pointing at the sketchbook in his lap. “Can I see?”

Unfortunately, he’s dripping all over it or else Glaz might’ve considered his question, but he’s had one too many books with him out in the rain or the snow and knows how ugly the damage looks on the pages afterwards, so he nearly flings it off into the distance with how vehemently he yanks it aside, and merely hisses a curse in preparation of telling Kapkan off for being this careless.

It’s just -

The only thing that leaves Glaz’ lips is an English: “Fuck me.”

And, well. He overheard someone else use it, probably Twitch or IQ when they burnt their hands, and then he noticed others saying it and though it’s been dancing on his tongue for days, apparently now his brain decided it was time to finally birth it.

Kapkan looks like he slapped him.

“Watch the fucking language”, Tachanka admonishes him with a wide grin. “Someone might think you’re an actual adult, Glazkov.”

His cheeks are killing him, they’re hotter than the air outside and getting flustered now will certainly look suspicious. “Just be more careful. Okay?”, he mumbles into his beard, directed at a thunderstruck Kapkan whose expression is inscrutable.

“You two can go ahead, we got this”, Fuze informs them and this seems to tear the very wet and almost-naked man in front of Glaz out of his stupor.

“Oh, I – I can take over for you. I’ll clean. You go.”

And now Glaz really wishes he had slapped him. What a perfectly obvious excuse to not end up alone with him. Before he gets a chance to drop a cutting remark of his own, Tachanka voices what everyone’s thinking: “You shit in somebody’s cereal, or why don’t you want to go back to base? You need to be forced to tidy usually.”

Fishing for justifications, Kapkan lamely defends himself by claiming he still has something to make up to Fuze – which is likely, yet no reason for him to choose cleaning over lazing about some more – and Glaz has to fight the urge to strangle him. That is, until he realises two can play this game.

“I’ll stay, too”, he announces and suppresses a laugh at how quickly Kapkan’s head snaps in his direction. “I can let my pages dry out in the sun. We’ll see you in half an hour.”

“And this why you’ve always been my favourite. Show me your masterpiece in a bit, alright?” Tachanka slaps him on the back approvingly and then heads off in Fuze’s company, the two of them discussing actual strategies about fighting underwater instead of beating the Uzbek up unhelpfully.

A stony silence settles in, making Glaz’ stomach cramp. The other Russian towels himself dry while he puts the chairs away and gathers the supplies they’ll need – there’s not much to do, the pool is being used daily and as long as they mop up all the splashed water, they should be good. Everything is done wordlessly, fuelling the awkwardness causing Glaz to drop whatever he’s holding twice, and it keeps getting worse.

Why have you been avoiding me, he doesn’t say, though he really wants to. We can pretend nothing happened. We can go back.

He could. With difficulty, but he could. If only he knew what was up. But working up the courage is impossible, he’s failed for weeks already and with a friendship on the line, with possibly more -

Kapkan chuckles. The low sound manages to pierce the spiral Glaz is sending himself down and interrupts his thoughts. “They really do have fucking pool noodles here. What on earth do they do with these?”

The supply closet indeed provides a variety of colourful foam noodles, even a deflated alligator and a beach ball. It seems they aren’t the only ones to use this facility for purely recreational purposes. “All I’m picturing now is Seamus wearing floaties.”

His comment earns him an amused snort and the ice is finally broken. They share a grin and Glaz’ relief must show on his face. “I almost want to go back in and ride this crocodile.”

“Or go dive for some of these rings.” Suddenly, Glaz gets an idea when he spots a hoop, reminding him of a dolphin show he once saw. “Hey, you think I could jump through this one?”

“No way. You’re too fat.”

Hilarious. He rolls his eyes. “You wanna bet?”

“Easy. Take a running start and jump through without touching the edges, you win. Otherwise, I win. I’ll even hold it up for you.”

“What are the stakes?”

This is where he wanted to land and Kapkan gladly followed him, possibly knowing full well where this was headed. They eye each other up. “A favour”, Kapkan suggests and couldn’t have been more vague.

Even so. Glaz likes where this is going. “Sounds good. Let’s do it.” He rids himself of his shirt and places all valuable belongings safely out of reach, encouraging Kapkan to do the same, and then walks a good distance away from the pool where Kapkan is standing, holding up the hoop expectantly. And it’d be so easy to win the bet and be owed a favour – so many possibilities. He’d be hard pressed to choose and already, his imagination is providing idea after idea, one more tempting than the next…

Then a whole other prospect enters his mind. It’d be even easier to lose. And end up at Kapkan’s mercy.

He starts jogging, building up speed, gaze fixed on the hoop until Kapkan’s is as well, the other man waiting to see whether the object will wobble from impact, no matter how small, ready to pass judgement on whether he won or lost -

- and then Glaz collides with him and shoves him into the pool.

The splash is extremely satisfying, almost as good as Kapkan’s brief grimace of surprise, shock, and betrayal as he sails through the air, flailing. Glaz almost laughs, gets out a bird-like noise of entertainment before it devolves into a shriek as Kapkan shoots back out of the pool like a crocodile himself, having spotted his prey by the shore, and the next thing Glaz knows are hands around his calves – no, one hand, the other somehow manages to land on his ass but the result is the same, they yank him in together with his previous victim.

Compared to the suffocating humidity outside, the water is refreshingly cool and punches through his consciousness like a shot of caffeine injected directly into his bloodstream, yet what makes the experience all the more powerful are the strong arms enveloping him in a tight embrace. Too tight, he was half on an exhale when going under and wants to swim up but Kapkan doesn’t let him, cradles him close and makes no move to swim to the surface, so Glaz starts struggling. Panic sets in and when he reaches down to pinch Kapkan’s inner thigh as hard as he can, large air bubbles escape the other man’s mouth. At least it’s successful: they rise.

“Fuck”, he spits out when he can breathe can, coughs and coughs into Kapkan’s face because suddenly, he’s too close and did he just try to kiss Glaz while he’s still recovering from nearly drowning? “What are you -”

It was a mistake putting his hand anywhere between Kapkan’s legs. The iron grip around his wrist hurts, even underwater, and his hand is uncomfortably pressed against the other Russian’s swimming trunks. Glaz moves his fingers to not cramp up and oh, hello. At least this time Kapkan’s dick isn’t being shoved into his face. The next attempt is successful and cold lips move against his, hurried, forceful, and then Glaz’ back hits the side of the pool with Kapkan’s body caging him in.

He should’ve known it would be unceremonious like this, the byproduct of a struggle, a line crossed stumbling instead of deliberately stepping over it. “Ask me”, he gasps and gives in, obliges: his fingers wrap around the flesh swelling despite the coolness of the water and he deepens the kiss. But not for long. He won’t be the passive party in this, and he demonstrates it by biting down on a lower lip.

“Like that”, Kapkan purrs against his chest and begins moving his hips against Glaz’ hand, the motion slow and almost sensual. He’s in a world of his own, thinking he’s won a prize of, well, something, thinking he’ll finally get… what? An awkward handjob by someone he was too cowardly to ask outright?

“Ask me”, Glaz repeats with more emphasis and feels his own body react. And how could it not, with a body mirroring his own in strength and build, with Kapkan panting in his ear and forcing his fist to remain where it is so he can fuck it. His fury has evaporated, was probably fed by the underlying anxiousness of quietly getting rejected, but now that it’s quite obvious Kapkan wants the same thing he does, all that’s left is stubbornness. That, and the desire to make Kapkan admit it.

He’s a match, though. Just as pig-headed.

And so, when he still hasn’t said anything else after more aborted kisses, Glaz tightens his grip, tightens it until Kapkan goes very, very still. His eyes are gorgeous up close. Glaz wants to feel him inside so badly, he momentarily forgets what he was doing and revels in the fantasy until a tongue dragging over his mouth catapults him back into the present.

“Suck me”, Kapkan whispers amid the soft gurgling of the waves they’re producing

Jesus fucking Christ. Glaz twirls them around with an annoyed sigh and, while wrestling the other man out of his shorts, hisses: “Why’d it take so fucking long?” All that Kapkan offers is an uncertain look as if he had mild doubts about what he just demanded, but they seem to dissipate as soon as Glaz lifts him out of the water. “Lie back.”

Wordlessly, Kapkan obeys, sits down on the edge, lower legs still dangling in the water, and leans backwards, propping himself up on his elbows so he can watch. His cock is proudly jutting straight up into the air, wet and dark and delicious, and in one fell swoop, Glaz captures its head between his lips.

They don’t have much time. He’ll have to make this quick.

Under the taste of chlorine, there’s skin and Kapkan, and he savours the taste on his tongue as he swirls it around the tip generously. Having draped himself over his friend’s thighs, his weight holds Kapkan down which turns out to be necessary as he’s pushy. His hips twitch and tilt, try to thrust upwards further into Glaz’ mouth and as if that wasn’t bad enough, there’s a hand on his head pushing down.

Somehow, he manages to free himself and glare at his dishevelled friend, flushed and beautiful and flustered – and if it was any other situation, one where time wasn’t of the essence, he’d let Kapkan do whatever he wants. But not now. “I’ll bite”, he warns him seriously, “stop that shit. Behave.”

A curse is his response, but Kapkan obliges and withdraws his arm, and then throws his head back with another swear as Glaz swallows him whole. The flesh is piping hot and rock hard, just like Glaz’ own, and he sucks it down like it’s made of sugar, opens his throat, lets the tip hit the back of it. It pains him that he can’t relish in finally doing this, but hearing all these surprised grunts and sharp breaths has its own merit – not even the cool water can calm the vicious pulsing between Glaz’ legs and he idly tongues the ridge of Kapkan’s glans, wondering what it’d feel like inside him.

When he gets down to business, he can feel Kapkan’s muscles twitching and drinks in every hiss whenever he sucks hard. He’s not teasing anymore, instead bobbing his head in a relatively fast rhythm, using his tongue to exploit that sensitive spot on the underside and massaging the balls with one hand, squeezing out moan after moan. Kapkan is loud, much louder than he expected, and very appreciative. He seems to melt under Glaz’ ministrations and actually relaxes into the stimulation which is, well, lovely, but not goal-oriented. They need to be back in twenty, maybe fifteen minutes. And thanks to Glaz’ stunt earlier, they’ll need to clean up a second time.

He pulls off the cock in his mouth with a wet noise and once again addresses his friend: “Come on. I want to feel you pulsing in my throat.”

It’s more forthright than he’d normally be, but circumstances necessitate it. Not like Kapkan seems to mind, if the scandalised yet intrigued expression is anything to go by – he also tenses up noticeably as Glaz takes him back in to the hilt, stomach muscles fluttering and contracting when Glaz reaches up to gently rub over an erect nipple. “Filthy mouth”, Kapkan rumbles and lets out an echoing moan when his nipple is twisted between two fingers. He’s so hot. Glaz wishes he could blow him for hours, but alas. “Never would’ve guessed you’re that perverted. Go deeper. Yes.”

Glaz nearly chokes himself on Kapkan’s dick with no regrets and increases the tempo, sucks even harder and deprives himself of oxygen, and the pay-off is worth it. With another loud groan, Kapkan shudders, his entire body going taut, and his cock throbs in Glaz’ mouth, shooting out bitter liquid in spurts, in time with soft rolls of his hips. He finally made him come, finally blew him to completion and it was everything he hoped for. Watching Kapkan’s expression slip from need to utter bliss is as satisfying as he’d hoped, and he gladly swallows around the erection clogging his throat.

When he pulls free again, his friend is lying flat on the tiles, breathing hard and contemplating existence. He looks shattered, more spent than after a training session and Glaz would really like to hug him. Instead, he instinctively reaches down and grabs his neglected cock, harder than it’s been for weeks (since the day he made an implicit bet with Kapkan and went to bed early, dreaming up scenarios similar to this one). Right in front of him, a naked Kapkan is recovering from what looks like to have been a mind-blowing orgasm, and as Glaz takes him all in, marvels at his form, the softening dick gives a last feeble twitch.

Shit.

Okay, he’ll be quick.

He discards his own swimwear, just leaves it floating away, and lifts himself out of the water. Kapkan has barely time to react before Glaz is straddling him, trying not to cream himself from the skin contact alone, and as revenge for all the shoving previously, Glaz guides one of his friend’s hands between their naked bodies. “Do it”, he prompts quietly, desperation colouring his voice and Kapkan must’ve noticed or else he might not have complied so fast. Calloused fingers close around Glaz’ shaft and dear god, this will be an embarrassingly quick affair.

Kapkan wastes no time and jerks him fast from the get-go, almost brutal (probably how he himself likes it and the thought causes Glaz’ knees to go weak), and it’s not only water droplets hitting Kapkan’s flat belly now. The sudden intense stimulation has Glaz whimpering and fighting it, wanting more or maybe less, who’s to say – certainly not his short-circuited mind. He barely has the brain capacity left to suck Kapkan’s other middle finger into his mouth but he does notice his friend’s eyes darkening upon the realisation.

When the finger enters him, he buries his face in the crook of Kapkan’s neck and moans. He imagines it’s Kapkan himself, pictures them rolling around on a mattress with all the time in the world, harsh thrusts and nails raking over his back and Kapkan stares into his soul as he pumps load after load into him, and Glaz is moving his hips now, grinding down against Kapkan’s hand and he doesn’t care how fucking needy he must seem because he wants this. The hand on his cock is merciless, the speed unwavering and it’s flirting with being too much – there’s vague pain there but isn’t that normal, where Kapkan is concerned?

The digit inside buries itself even deeper and brushes over his sweet spot which he rewards with a whine, so Kapkan does it again and again, and with several weeks’ worth of anticipation, with the memory of a hard dick poking his cheek, with Kapkan’s taste still on his tongue, Glaz is shoved over the edge. He shivers violently, isn’t even sure what kind of noise escapes his lips as his climax shakes him to the core, traps him in ecstasy for half an eternity during which he’s hardly aware of anything around him – and when he realises he’s coming all over Kapkan’s chest while his friend is milking him expertly enough to prolong his orgasm, it’s another half. Kapkan lets him ride it out and brings him down gently, doesn’t overdo it and withdraws when Glaz puts a hand on his wrist.

Glaz’ relief is overwhelming and lasts throughout his afterglow: a minute or two during which he sits up, calms his racing heartbeat and inspects the mess he made on pale skin before him. They finally did it. And Kapkan doesn’t even look like he regrets it. He… looks like nothing, really, expression empty as he doesn’t even move to wipe the semen off him, and doubts slowly begin to overtake the pleasant exhaustion in Glaz’ bones.

“Can I kiss you?”, he asks meekly and feels silly, perched on top of another man who had his finger inside him mere minutes ago, and yet he’s not confident enough to just lean down and do it.

Kapkan examines him attentively. “Don’t make this weird.”

“You made it weird a long time ago.”

Visibly uncomfortable with the topic, Kapkan drags him down with enough force to make their teeth click, and though the angle is odd and their noses are in the way, the gesture counts. Glaz feels his muscles relax during the brief kiss and smiles as he comes back for air. When Kapkan smiles back, the fact that they still have to clean everything, including themselves, and that they’ll be really late with no excuse at all loses its threat.

They shower together, joking some more about the SAS operators’ pool habits, and then quickly sweep the floor once again. Stepping out into the blinding sunshine is like running into a wall, the heat is unbearable and tiring. Glaz almost wants to fall asleep standing up.

“Just so we’re clear, you lost that bet”, Kapkan tells him, blinking into the brightness instead of looking him in the eyes. “So you owe me a favour.”

Glaz’ lips curl into a grin. “Of course. You only need to ask.”

And while Kapkan doesn’t respond, there’s a certain glint in his eye which is full of promises and reassurance.

[fockmeuprealgood]

The Bird’s Song - 6

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x OC

Warnings: violence, romance, slow burn, fluff, ptsd, angst

Description: Adelia is near the end when the Avengers save her from a Leviathan compound. She gets thrown into the world of superheroes when the Avengers try to figure out who she is and why she was a prisoner in the first place.

________________________________________________________________________

I sat on my new bed and towel dried my hair. I was wearing a generic Avengers tee shirt and gray sweat pants that were a little too baggy and hung low on my hips. Discarding the towel next to me and I picked up the brush that I had found in a drawer in the bathroom and ran it through my hair. I was disturbed by a light knock on the door.

I looked at the small digital clock that was on the bed side table, and it showed that about two hours had passed since I was first left alone. I got up and opened the door to Tony. He was here to get me just like he said he would.

“You ready to go?” He said looking at my sock covered feet.

I stepped around to the other side of the bed and slipped on my shoes. I walked back over to the door and gave Tony a nod. He motioned with his fingers for me to follow him and he started down the hall back to the elevator.

We eventually made our way down a few floors and entered a large workshop. A few days ago, I had learned from Sam that Tony was an Avenger, but he didn’t have any enhanced power. He wore metal weaponized suits and called himself Iron Man. Now I was looking at these suits up close.

Different models of his suit lined the one of the walls. Along the other walls were metal shelves and storage cabinets. There were also long tables that provided more than enough space to work on a couple different projects at a time.

“Why’d you bring me here?” I was curious to what Tony wanted from me.

“I have something else for you to and fix.” He stated. He guided me over to one of the workspaces. Sitting on the table was a compact, metal disk, it was a little large than one of Tony’s hands. Tony bent down at tapped the middle of the device, it quickly jumped to life and expanded into something that looked like it could be worn.

“This here, is an aerorig, it’s like a self-propelling, compact jet pack.” He explained. “We got it from some friends in space.” His last sentence confused me even more, but I didn’t bother asking.

Tony continued. “What I need you to do it figure out how to repair it, if you can. One of the rocket thrusters on the back has been all out of sorts.”

He stepped back after placing the object into my hands. I examined it and looked back up at him. Him seemed to understand and answered my question before it was even asked.

“And no, I can’t fix it. Don’t have the time, I have other things I need to worry about.” He said and waved his arm at his suits along the wall. “You have all the tools you need right here, and if you need me, I’ll be...right over here.” He walked over to a cluttered table on the opposite side of the room and plopped himself into the chair next to it. “Take all the time you need, kiddo.”

I took that as my que to start working and I was a little glad he was done talking. It was a little too much sometimes.

I slowly placed myself into the chair next to the station I was given. I picked it up again and found the rocket thrusters Tony was talking about. I grabbed a small flashlight that was amongst the tools next to me. I shined the light inside of the gadget and examined the insides of each thruster.

Inside the left thruster was a burnt and frayed piece of wire. It was no wonder Tony said that it was acting finicky, next to the wire the wall of the thruster was fried, it would need to be cleaned and have some of the metal replaced before it got any weaker.

I quickly got to work, picking up different tools to cut out the damaged parts. I measured new pieces and lined them up next to the old pieces I had taken out. One by one, I carefully placed each piece into its spot and welded the metal pieces together.

Once I checked my work and was satisfied, I brought the aerorig back over to Tony. I placed it in front of him and gave him a small grin.

He gave me a questioning look. “You’re done? It's been like, 15 minutes.” He said glancing down at his watch. I looked over at the clock that was on the wall and sure enough, it had only been 15 minutes since I first sat down and started working.

“I’m done.” I reassured Tony and walked back to my table, replacing myself in the seat. I watch as he placed the aerorig around himself and stepped onto a platform that was on one side of the room. He clicked a button that was on the chest piece and the gadget hummed to life. A blueish-white light glowed from the back of the pack where the rocket thrusters were.

Tony’s feet pushed off of the platform and he began to hover in the air. He looked weightless as he tested out the aerorig for a few moments. He slowly brought himself back down and shut the device off. He clicked on it again and the machine peeled itself off of his body and formed back into the small metal disk I first saw on the table.

Holding in his hand, Tony stared down at it. I watched him walk over to a shelf on the side of the room and place it amongst other odd-looking devices. He then sat back down in his seat from earlier and spun back to look at me. He leaned on the table next to him and placed his chin in his hand as I stood there awkwardly.

“You want a job kid?” His question cut through the silence, catching me off guard.

“What?”

“Do you want a job here? Working for me? Cause you clearing have a knack for this sort of thing.”

I gave him an unsure look as I rubbed my arms. “I don’t know Tony.” I said nervously.

“It’ll be here, in this workshop, with me. No other people unless we want them here. I’d be giving you small projects to keep you busy.” I contemplated the offer.

“C’mon,” He continued. “It’ll be fun. What'd ya say?”

“I guess so.” I gave up, knowing that’d he would probably hound me until I gave in. I had learned Tony had a habit of doing things like that since I’ve been here. This would be better than sitting alone in my room, mindlessly watching tv.

“Great you start today.” He began grabbing more objects and placed them on the workspace I now occupied. He told me that these too also had small problems that needed to be smoothed out and I got to work again.

I hadn’t noticed that Sam had shown up until he cleared his throat at the door. He was holding a plate with a sandwich, chips and a brownie placed next to it.

“Just checking up on you, do you know how long it took me to find you? I checked at least three different floors before I ran into Pepper and had to ask her.”

I giggled a little and thanked him, placing the plate next to the tools on the table. I managed to remember to eat my lunch as I worked.

By the time I finished the projects that Tony had given me the sun was starting to set and the plate Sam had given me was emptied a while ago. I looked at Tony, who was deep in thought at he worked on the glove of one of his suits. Not wanting to disturb him, I found a small note pad and pen. I wrote a note saying goodnight and place it next to the pile of finished gadgets.

I slowly headed back to my new room, feeling exhausted from the work I did today. I was excited to get change my clothes, crawl into the new bed, and call it a night.

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Chapter 6! I promise Bucky is going to show up within the next few parts, I’m getting to it. Thank you for being patient and reading my work!