#this is the latest ive gone to bed in weeks

[gatorbites-imagines]

Heyy!! I love your blog and writing sm!!! I was wonderomg if you'd write somethjng with top/dom reader where the reader gets godly aftercare as well.. we need to normalize giving doms aftercare!! and your writing is my greatest comfort, finally someone writes for other than petite fem readers <333

Nanami Kento x male reader

Headcanons

You never specified which character you wanted me to write for, so I just picked one I felt would give amazing aftercare. Also cuz I don’t think many people realize I write for jjk.

Sorry ive been gone for a bit, but to no one’s surprise, classes are exhausting.

There are different kinds of aftercare, so it all really depends on what kind of dynamic you and Nanami have, and what you are in need of after. Nanami being as aware and loving as he is, would have an easy time figuring out what you need.

There might be times where all you need afterwards if to be held or to hold him, to know that he’s there and that Nanami still loves you and that he liked it very much. He is also the kind of person to have set up the different snacks or drinks you could need afterwards.

Knowing Nanami, he would probably even have some kind of small fridge to keep the drinks in, if it’s a cold drink you need to help center yourself after a rougher scene. If it’s a hot drink you need, he would make sure you were alright before going to get it.

Nanami is an efficient man, so it wouldn’t take long before he’s back again, your favorite mug in one hand, and the latest book he has been reading. Sometimes its enough to just sit together as he reads and you sip on whatever drink it is you need, and other times you need to just be held. Luckily for you, Nanami is a big guy, so that can also be done with no issue.

If its been a rougher scene and you need more than just some cuddles and a snack, Nanami would also be very on top of that. There is no way he would let the love of his life feel inadequate or gross about yourself.

There might be times where you think you are a horrible person because of the scenes you two do, or because of how rough you were, which could result in you pulling away or even having dom drop. But Nanami won’t let you sink too far, always pulling you back out of that dark pit before it gets to swallow you whole.

If you needed to cry, there would be no judgement from your lover, and if you just need to be alone, he would let you do that too. But hes gonna be setting up a nice shower or bath for when you are feeling better again.

Nanami has also always been a very honest guy, and believes strongly in communication in a relationship. So if what you needed was verbal reassurance, or to know how he felt, what you did right and what you did wrong, he would give it to you.

Communication wouldn’t just be for you though, since he himself also enjoys talking it over, to make sure you guys are both on the same wavelength and enjoyed it an equal amount. Sometimes talking about it in a more strategic manner could help center you both, and stop any spiraling thoughts or feelings.

It also wouldn’t be beneath Nanami to want to give you a rubdown if you were feeling a bit sore and exhausted. Sometimes its as much for him as it is for you, since it gives him a sense of peace to know that you are there, and that you are comfortable.

He probably has a whole routine he goes through if you are feeling too drained to move, or if you are feeling under the weather. Like wiping you both down before you get into the bath together, where Nanami would lovingly wash your hair and then his own. This is also where he would make sure you both are fine physically, just in case.

Nanami would get out of the bath first, letting you just vege out for a bit, as he goes to clean up the bedroom and get some new sheets and pillows on the bed, and getting out some clean sleep wear for you both.

You may have been the dom/top, but that doesn’t stop Nanami from taking care of you, as its something he loves to do on any day of the week, and if you need it after you guys have spent the night together you won’t hear any complaints.

After getting everything ready, Nanami would go back to help you out of the water, dry you off, and get you into the clothes you are comfortable in, before you two shuffle back to your room. And of course, he’s put the good sheets on the bed.

You’ll get a nice soft blush from him if you compliment him and thank him for all his hard work. He loves taking care of you the most, but that doesn’t mean Nanami doesn’t enjoy being praised and loved on by you too.

All in all, Nanami would know multiple ways to do aftercare, and is perspective enough to figure out what you need before you do. He would also never judge you for any kind of care you might need, as making you comfortable and happy always makes his heart flutter.

[auroraescritora]

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME - PERCY/NICO AU HIGH SCHOOL - CHAPTER XVIII

Hi, how are you doing? We're finally back with the English version. I took a break from the Portuguese version because I couldn't connect with my dramatic side, so in the next few days we'll have the English version. I hope you enjoy it.

Before we go any further, I'd like to know who is still interested in this story written in English. It's more work than the Portuguese version. So, if you're still interested, vote below!

CHAPTER I / CHAPTER II / CHAPTER III / CHAPTER IV / CHAPTER V / CHAPTER VI / CHAPTER VII / CHAPTER VIII / CHAPTER IX / CHAPTER X / CHAPTER XI / CHAPTER XII / CHAPTER XIII / CHAPTER XIV / CHAPTER XV / CHAPTER XVI / CHAPTER XVII

If Nico had known, he wouldn't have gotten out of bed that morning. In fact, if he had the power, he would have gone back in time to the exact moment before he fought with Annabeth at the party and done everything differently; he would’ve keep lying to Percy, pretending that everything was fine, even if at the end of the day, it was one less problem he had to deal with. Yes, he was the only one to blame for all this, for not telling what was happening with himself at the right time and for not saying enough at the wrong time. In the end, Percy was only doing what he had asked, but in a way that Nico hadn't anticipated, taking control of the situation when he least expected it. A good example of this was that morning, a Monday like any other. Or so he thought.

Nico didn't know how he hadn't noticed these things before, how much the loneliness had disappeared with Percy's presence and, in turn, the reaction he caused in people. Nico had been back for a week or two, but it seemed like the two years abroad had never happened. People still looked at him and treated him the same way, the prejudice veiled and barely hidden for anyone to see. Was it the color of his skin? Homophobia? Or it was the fact that Percy once again ignored anyone when he was around? Was a weight Nico couldn't remember feeling before. It wasn't like he could help it or had any inclination to do so, because that morning Nico had woken up the way he had always imagined impossible, with lingering kisses and caresses that made him sigh. With tight hugs that warmed his soul and made him feel safe. Of course, all this came to a halt when they had to get out of bed and go to school and face the cruel world of teenagers. 

He barely noticed the silence around them until Nico walked in with Percy for the first lesson of the day. He only understood what was happening when he saw Annabeth at the back of the class, surrounded by a group of people. 

"Don't mind her, okay?" Percy said and brought Nico's hand to his lips.

Then, everything made sense. They were holding hands, walking around the school without a care in the world. Nico bet Annabeth was doing her best to spread the latest gossip; the popular basketball player was sleeping with the newly transferred boy, even though he was sure most people remembered him.

Nico didn't have much more time to think about what people were whispering. Percy pulled him to the other side of the room and sat with him in one of the corner desks, perfectly away and protected from curious eyes. He wished he could say he hadn't been able to concentrate in class, when in fact it was the opposite; the whispers became background noise and the next thing Nico knew, another school day was drawing to a close, Nico seeing himself in the reflection of the car window, watching the avenue full of trees and stores, the bustling commerce at that time of day.

"Are you okay?" Percy asked beside him, placing a hand on his leg as he drove towards their house, or rather, towards the Jacksons' house. 

"I think so. Can we stop by my house? I wanted to get my things.”

"What's wrong? My clothes not enough?" 

Percy was joking, of course. He couldn't go on wearing the shirts that kept slipping off his shoulders or his old clothes, even if they were in very good condition.

"Per.”

"It's all right. I'll do anything for my baby." Percy flashed him a huge smile, as if he'd just told him the best joke in the world, and Nico decided to ignore it. 

Every time he said he wasn't a baby, something happened to show how right Percy was. Staying quiet, Nico put his hands over Percy's hand and held them, intertwining their fingers.

"We're almost there. Do you want me to get it or you do it?"

It was a good question. Nico didn't want to find Hades inside the house, but it had been days since he had talked to Bianca.

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course. Whatever you need." 

So, after a few minutes, Percy parked the car in front of the house and they both stopped at the door, the doorman letting him through as soon as he recognized him. Nico didn't even try to greet the man, all he wanted was to get his things as quickly as possible and talk to Bianca if she was home. Imagine his surprise when he saw his father in the living room, sitting on the couch while reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee.

"Nico, what a surprise. I thought you'd forgotten where your home is.”

"That's funny." Nico replied. He didn't even bother to see his father's reaction, and looking ahead, made his way up the stairs. "I thought I didn't have a father."

"Boy! Come back here right now!”

Of course, it wasn't like he would obey a complete stranger. Nico kept on walking calmly, and even though he overheard Percy exchanging a few words with Hades, it didn't shake him. It was something common between them. Soon Percy was at his side again, offering him a smile and a friendly shoulder. Honestly? Nico didn't care. He cared less and less. He already had a family, and wasn't an irresponsible man who would make him feel guilty for ignoring someone who should be the first to support him. 

Without making too much of a mess, Nico picked up his suitcases, his personal belongings and some boxes that had just arrived from Italy, and walked around the room, making sure he had everything.

"Is that all?" Percy asked him, looking sad.

"The rest is in Verona. I didn't know how long I'd be here.”

"What does that mean?”

Nico shrugged and checked under the bed.

"I thought you'd be dating someone. Getting ready to get married, you know? I thought I'd come back to finish school and apologize. And then... I guess go back to Italy to help my nona.”

"Really? I mean so little to you?" Percy looked hurt, but that wasn't the point.

"I didn't expect all of this.”

Nico decided to face Percy when the silence stretched longer than usual.

"I always forget what I did to you.” Percy said.

No, Nico refused to get into this argument again. He refused.

"I mean..." Nico said, trying to change the subject. "You knew where I was.”

"I did." Percy agreed. "I was planning to go after you. After I graduated.”

"Hm." Nico muttered without knowing what to say. That was a good thing, right?

"I wanted to give you time to... live.”

"I don't think I understand.”

"I didn't want you to live wondering what could have happened without my shadow hanging over you. I know that's stronger than both of us.”

When Percy talked like that, it sounded as if they had no choice, as if they had no free will. Maybe it was. Because if Percy had shown up at his door, he would have dropped everything and said yes to anything Percy suggested.

"Sorry, I didn't want to talk about it again. Let's go, okay?" Percy said and kissed his cheek, trying to smile, before picking up the suitcases and one of the boxes, leaving him to carry the lighter items. 

They went down the stairs and there was Hades blocking the way. Luckily, Bianca was there too, she took some things from his hand and tried to smile at him, just like Percy had done, trying to comfort him.

"Nico, we need to talk." Hades said, still blocking the exit door.

"Now you want to talk? What would you have to tell me?”

"We need to talk about your future.”

"Future? As long as it's away from you, I accept it.”

"I'm your father. You owe me respect!”

"What respect?”

"Nico, please." Bianca stepped between them and, pleading with her eyes, kept talking: "Could you listen to what he has to say?”

"I'm sorry." Nico said, not feeling guilty at all. "I don't want to know about his plans for me. It's your responsibility now.”

"I know we wronged you and--"

"Wronged me?" Nico shook his head, refusing to believe it. "I love you, Bia. I really do. But I have nothing to do with the Di Angelo family. He's your father much more than mine. Enjoy it.”

"Niccolas. Obey me this instant!" Hades' voice boomed through the room, deep and hoarse, like thunder. Maybe this had terrified him a few years ago, now all he felt was a deep anger.

"What are you going to do? Hit me? Isn't that your favorite way of dealing with disobedient little boys?”

The following scene became quite a spectacle in Nico's eyes. Bianca went pale as a sheet of paper, Hades got even angrier, but the most interesting reaction was to see Percy freeze like the most perfect Greek statue. Would this be another layer of guilt for Percy to “ not try to talk to him about?”

"It's okay. Go ahead." Nico said when no one else dared to say a word. "Make sure you leave at least one mark, so it's easier to hand over as evidence to the authorities. What do you think of that?”

"You wouldn't have the nerve.”

"No? Then try your luck." And yet, when Hades didn't move away from the door, Nico was forced to continue: "Are you going to force me or are you going to get out of the way?”

"You damn--"

"Nico, leave it to me. I'll take care of this." Percy said beside him, reminding him that his boyfriend was still there. It was strange. Usually these things happened when there were no witnesses.

That was it!

"You don't have to. I know Hades will make the right decision, won't he? Especially with two witnesses present?

Nico then turned to Hades and waited. Hades might be irresponsible and violent, but he wasn't stupid. 

Still fuming with anger, Hades walked away from the door, but not before saying:

"What are you going to do? Live the rest of your life on other people's money? Begging for attention?"

"What I do is none of your business. Soon you won't have any power over me or what belongs to my mother. Say goodbye to your fortune, dear Papa.”

With that, Nico turned his back on Hades and walked out the door, never to return. He would make Hades pay for everything he had done and make him return every penny that had been taken from his mother.

***

Nico felt lucky. Really.

They got his things into the car in time for Bianca to say she would call him, enough time for Percy to close the car doors and to drive away from that house. Now, why did he feel lucky? Well, he was lucky that Percy waited until they got home to hug and try to comfort him. The funny thing is, he didn't need to be comforted. This time, all Nico wanted was to hit something to see if it would take the tension out of his shoulders. What did he do? He let himself be comforted anyway. He let Percy hug him tightly, he let Percy stroke his hair in that way that made his hair stand on end, and he let Percy kiss him for a long time.

"I didn't know. I never-- why didn't you tell me?”

"I knew you'd do something stupid.”

"He hit you! And I... I did the same!”

"I wouldn't say that. Hades has never been so talented at making me cum.”

"Nico!”

"Sorry! " He ended up laughing, feeling some of the tension leave his body. "I didn't want to be sent away because of him.”

"I'm so sorry.” Percy said, holding him even tighter. “You had to go through all of that and I never suspected. All makes sense now. You didn't like going home and avoided Hades at all costs.

"I didn't want to worry you.”

"Don't say that. Hades will never see you again. That's a promise.”

"What are you going to do?”

"Do you trust me?”

How could he not when Percy looked at him so seriously and with those intense green eyes?

"I do. You know that.”

"I’ll take care of you. And this time, I’ll make sure those people pay for what they did.”

And again, Nico thought about objecting. But if Percy wanted to, who was he to deny it? Nico knew he shouldn't like being put on a pedestal or being protected as if he were made of glass. The real problem was that he liked it, loved seeing the sense of possession that emanated from Percy. Was it even a problem when he allowed it to happen and even consented to Percy's actions? 

Tired of hesitating, Nico just agreed, letting Percy keep on with the kissing and the cuddling. The best part was when Sally arrived from work with Grover and Tyson. He snuggled against Percy's chest and allowed himself to enjoy the moment, watching the Jackson family's reaction. Well, seeing his family's reaction, because they were the ones who had offered him a home when he thought he had nothing. But, seeing them go from surprised to furious in less than two minutes was shamefully satisfying. It was something that warmed his soul and stroked his sense of revenge. Why try to fight his nature when he could have everything he wanted? In the end, Nico heard a lot of “I'm sorry” and “we'll take care of everything”, ending with “you're safe with us”.

Nico also knew that they weren't just saying that to comfort him, but seeing their faces full of affection and a sense of justice made something inside him calm down, a huge satisfaction bubbling out of him in the form of a smile. That shouldn't be too common, right? To start laughing when they showed so much concern? The truth was that Nico already felt vindicated just by the fact that someone knew what kind of person Hades Di Angelo really was.

"Thank you." He ended up saying when the family hugged him together, Sally almost crying while Grover and Tyson had a serious, neutral expression on their faces, reminding him of when Percy was trying to control himself so as not to destroy whatever he saw along the way; Percy might be the family member who showed his emotions the most, but behind the innocent and kind face it was Tyson who acted first.

Any thoghts? Thanks for reading!

[dragondrafts]

aahh hello! was really excited to find another heartsteel blog <3

ive come with a more angsty topic if you're comfy w it!

reader spending time trying to get aphelios out of his shell after finding out he'll lose his voice- (and possibly a part of after it all happens, procedure and such- taking care of him)

thank you! ^^

Hiiii thank you for the request, and I'm super happy to find fellow heartsteel fans!! I wasn't entirely clear on the prompt (and this ended up more fluffy than angsty until the end asgjhkgdh) but I hope you like this regardless ❤️

HEARTSTEEL Aphelios x Reader

♡ Prompt: Comfort and encouragement before (and a little bit of after) vocal chord surgery ♡ TW: none ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Aphelios was always a quiet, thoughtful person by nature- but learning that he may lose his voice, his central form of artistic expression, was devastating to his self-confidence, pushing him into a depressive self isolation lasting weeks

It was heartbreaking to see the brightness of his gentle face drained, the sparkle in his eyes turned from mischief to fear... so you were determined to help him through this

Phel could be very stubborn and moody, hiding himself under blankets and pillows and absolutely refusing to come out. But with lots of patience and the promise of chocolate you could coax him out

You started with inviting his sister Alune to sleepovers. Aphelios wouldn't be forced to leave the house, or his room if he didn't want to, but his sister was very good at bringing a smile or soft laugh out of him, even for just a little while

You also began to take him out on walks through the neighborhood. You pointed out the songs of native birds, shared a fresh orange carefully snatched off someone's tree, or often times just walked side by side in comfortable silence

One time, some days before the procedure, the two of you found yourselves in a grassy park to relax. Aphelios sat criss-cross with his back against a tree and you laid your head in his lap while he played music on low volume through a portable speaker

For just a moment, he forgot about his worries, his anxieties, his grief, and began to sing along softly to the music while slowly combing his fingers through your hair

You closed your eyes and listened quietly, leaving him room to have this intimate moment with his voice- what could be one of the last

As the song ended, Phel came back into the present and blinked, both flustered at his vulnerability and sad that this personal vessel of self expression would soon be gone, maybe forever- but gazing at your kind, relaxed face, he realized he could get through anything, as long as he had you by his side

Post-procedure:

Despite Aphelios' initial protest, you and Alune spoiled the hell out of him every moment after he woke up from the procedure

His bed was all set up with the softest pillows and blankets, all his favorite snacks and plenty of water next to the bed within arm's reach, and TV hooked up to every streaming service you could think of

Doctor's orders were to not speak at all for the first few days, so a notepad and pen were provided, and if he needed anything he could text Alune or your phone to get your attention

You gave him space to process things whenever he asked, but whenever you got the chance, you were by his side in bed, keeping him company, telling him about all the latest news, or cuddling and watching movies together

There were a few moments when you would be holding Phel in your arms, and you felt him shake subtly- he was stifling sobs into your shoulder

You laid there in silence, rubbing his back, being his rock while he grasped his fear and sadness

He would never admit it, but Aphelios would always be grateful for these moments you spent with him at his lowest

[concealeddarkness13]

OC Kiss Week: Prompt 5 Yearning

Content warning for kissing and very strong suggestive themes. Clothes stay on, but it’s a fade to black kind of thing. This one is from Chess’s perspective, and it includes @drabbleitout’s character named Ives! From an AU we’ve been working on, and the latest scene is here, since I have links to the other scenes on that post! Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses, and @drabbleitout (thank you so much for letting me use Ives!)! 

I curled up on the couch and stared at the tv, not really comprehending the show that was on. Or maybe it was the weather. I didn’t even know or really care.

Ives had had an emergency call for breaching, and he had asked me to stay behind, just in case it was too dangerous. So I was just in his apartment. Alone. Glued to my phone, waiting to hear from him.

What if he got hurt? What if he needed me? I couldn’t protect him from here!

The door to the apartment opened, and I jumped up, ready to punch whoever was coming in, but a black blur leaped at me, and I fell back on the couch as Niner covered me in kisses, whining.

Niner…it was Niner! Then that meant— “Niner, please don’t smother her.”

Niner moved back, and I sat up quickly, staring. Ives was ok. He looked a little tired, but he didn’t even look dented or hurt. It had been hours! I jumped up and ran at him, hugging him tightly as I started to cry into his vest.

“I…I was so scared! I heard nothing from you! You didn’t even message me to let me know you were coming home!”

He froze and looked down at me, hugging me back after a bit. “Home?” His voice scrubbed, and I looked up at him, trying to wipe at my eyes. “You called this place home.” He blinked and frowned a little, his eyes going distant. “I did message you. But I see it didn’t go through. My signal is gone. I’ll have to report for that to get fixed tomorrow.”

I frowned. “You should get that fixed tonight. Did you get hurt?” And I shrugged. “Yeah. Of course I did. This is home, Love.”

I felt the familiar hum of his machinery accelerate as he stared at me. “Home,” he said again in wonder. He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, pulling me closer. “I don’t think I will, little one. Because then I would get distracting messages during my alone time with you.” He allowed his hands to wander lower than was proper, but when was I ever concerned with what was proper?

I blushed and squeaked though, which just made me blush worse. “But…I don’t want you to be hurt.”

He leaned down and kissed my neck, scraping teeth over my skin, and I couldn’t help but lean my head to the side to give him more room. “I’m not hurt at all. Actually, this might be a blessing.” His voice had gone down to a low rumble, and I shuddered. “Have you had dinner yet, little one?”

My cheeks burned, and I shook my head. “But I’m sure you could fill me up.”

He leaned back and smirked, dragging his hands down my thighs so he could pick me up, and I squeaked again. I was eye level with him, and I stared into his bright blue eyes as I messed with his hair, letting that damn perfection finally become messy. He leaned forward and stopped right before he could kiss me, mouthing at my lips. “We can have a full course, if you’d like.” He carried me into the kitchen and actually fucking set me down on the counter as he worked on heating up some pizza for me. The bastard. I couldn’t believe I had been yearning to see him so much.

He cut one of the pieces and put the crust in his mouth and leaned closer to me. “Would you like a bite, little one?”

I snorted and leaned close and took the bite, but instead of just allowing our lips to brush, I chewed quickly, swallowed, kissed him like I meant it, and stole his crust too. He laughed and picked me up again, also somehow flawlessly balancing the plate of pizza and walked into the bedroom.

He sat me down on the bed and kissed my cheek as he pushed the plate of pizza into my hands. “Please eat first. I don’t want to make you nauseous.”

I smirked back at him. “But if I eat, won’t I have to wait an hour? Isn’t that the rule?”

He looked over at me with a smirk as he started working on taking off all his work clothes. “If you’re so worried, you can just relax and enjoy it once you’re done. I haven’t had my dinner yet anyway.”

My cheeks burned worse as I stuffed some more pizza in my mouth. “I might have to, since you’re so mean to me. Teasing me and not even making sure I knew you were okay.”

He nodded, taking off his shirt, and I still stared even though I had seen his chest and abs so many times. “You’re right. I’ve been terrible to you. So, let me make it up to you.”

My cheeks were somehow burning even worse, and I quickly finished my pizza as he got out of all his clothes except his boxers. He took the plate from me and set it on the nightstand, and then he proceeded to pin me as he worked on my clothes. “Let me pamper you tonight, little one. I’ve had enough of fighting and pain. Let’s have something soft and sweet.”

[ljoesmissright]

20 Followers Tag

Rules: Tag 20 Followers You Would Like to Get to Know no thanks

tagged by juliejuliejuliejulieeee aka @imchangjun 💕💕 thanks beb 

Nicknames: sel (i hate it but i still use it when games ask for my name lmao)

Gender: Female

Star Sign: Virgo/Libra

Height: 5′4.5 or 165cm

Hogwarts House: honestly don’t know

Favorite Animal: Monkeyyyys

Average Hours Spent Sleeping: 4, 5 if im lucky

Dogs or Cats: cats

Dream Trip: Swiss Alps!!! 

Dream Job: don’t got one

When I made the account: april 2011 i believe

Why I made this account: justin told me to then ditched

Number of Followers: 130-140 depending on the day

yay!!! i tag whoever wants to do it :^)

[adraughtofamortentia]

i have not slept in in.... weeks? Months maybe? And today i just blew through all my alarms and its 1pm....

[sincerelythedarkside]

Who We Are || Part V

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Dark!Reader

Summary: You know what you want out of life. You want to be loved—to be safe. You want to be taken care of and to take care of someone who will appreciate it. But you’ve been shackled, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. And your only saving grace will be enticing the dark side of America’s golden hero to want you—a game of who’s manipulating who.

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon sex, noncon/rape, somnophilia, manipulative behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark themes. Do NOT read if these are triggering for you.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: None

[Set after Civil War & the Accords were abolished]

Note: The modern world is lost on Steve Rogers LOL

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

Count: ~3.6k

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

The room felt damp and slightly cold.

"Oh, god," Blake groaned as he opened his eyes, hissing at his mild headache. He sat up, pressing his palm into his eye to relieve the pressure.

Looking around, his heart started to race. He was in a cell, kept in by glass rather than bars. There was a bed in the corner, a toilet, and a sink. Barren, otherwise. It was unnerving looking at the completely white walls.

He checks his pockets, but this phone and wallet are gone.

"Hello?" Blake called out wearily. "Is somebody there? I—I think there's been some kind of mistake."

"There's been no mistake, Blake Henley," the voice said, deep and calm. "You're meant to be here."

"Please," Blake pleaded, standing up and coming up to the glass, trying to peer out. It was dark, the only light coming from the fluorescent bulbs in his room. "I haven't done anything! Who are you? Let me out!" Blake bangs on the glass. It hardly even vibrates. It must be some kind of reinforced glass.

Blake sees something in the back, hiding in the shadows. He squints as the figure steps forward, recognizing the familiar boots and pants before—

Blake swallows hard as he comes face to face with his captor.

"Why are you doing this?" Blake asks because it's clear he's not going to be rescued. "Why has Captain America kidnapped me?"

Steve stares through the glass, eyes blank and lips pressed in a thin line.

"I don't think you're in a position to ask any questions, Blake. Let's behave and see where that gets you."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Blake is missing.

But no one suspects anything but you. Your father had said something about Blake calling in for an emergency. His mother apparently had a bad fall down the stairs, and Blake needed to fly to Washington to take care of her for a couple of weeks.

It was a plausible emergency. Blake had spoken about his ill mother who lived in Washington at one of the weekly dinners.

But you knew he was missing. Anyone who used social media would know. Facebook was quiet since Blake was more a lurker than someone who actively posted.

Snapchat, however, was Blake's go-to social media app. And they had recently launched a new feature called Snap Map.

And when you checked Blake's location...he was outside the city limits.

Another thing that threw you off was Blake's latest text to you.

Blake: I'm sure Henry has told you I will be out of town for a while. I'll probably be MIA for a while. Sorry to cancel our plans next week, but I'll make it up to you.

It was thoughtful and straightforward. Something Blake would really say.

But only in front of others. Only if it's beneficial to his ruse.

Blake was the type to like her photos or leave comments on Instagram and Facebook. He was the type to show up to her house with flowers knowing other people were home. He'd talk to her friends or family about what he could do for a date with you.

He would never text you privately something caring—because there was no need to. Blake knows his role in Henry's grand scheme.

You weren't really sure what to make of his text, but you still texted back, trying to see what his reaction would be.

You: No worries. Sorry to hear about your mom. I hope she gets better.

The only thing you could think of was Steve. You couldn't say for sure, but it was just a feeling in your gut. And you were going to test that theory the next time you saw him.

You pulled out your phone, rechecking Blake's location. He hadn't moved in a week. You hum as you begin to dial.

There was an answer after the first ring.

"Hey," Steve sounded breathless.

"Hi," you answered shyly.

"What's up?" Steve asked, and you could picture him running his hand through his hair.

"I was wondering if you were free to have lunch with me today," you ask, sounding demure and unsure.

"Yeah, of course," Steve agreed. "I'm just finishing some work up now but why don't you text me what you're in the mood for and I'll meet you there?"

"Okay," you add a tint of happiness to your tone. "I'll text you."

"See you later, sweetheart."

You hang up, feeling perplexed by Steve's insistent use of the pet name for you. It seemed that once he started, he couldn't stop. You didn't mind, though. It was just another piece of evidence of how Steve wanted you.

It was still rather early, so you went into the kitchen and saw your mom sitting there with a glass of wine.

"Hey, mom," you greeted her with a kiss at the temple.

She was startled as she looked up at you. "Oh, hey, honey. I didn't realize you were still home."

"Just for a little bit. I'll be heading out for lunch soon. It's a bit early for wine, isn't it?" You cock your brow at her.

Your mom merely chuckled and shook her head. "It's not early if you didn't sleep."

"Sleeping problems again?" You asked, thinking about why that must've been why Henry didn't come to your room last night. "You should really see a doctor about that."

Your mum nods a little tiredly but gives you a smile. "I think it's just too much energy. Maybe I should walk around the block a couple of times."

You hum, still concerned but dropping it since your mother didn't seem to want to speak about it anymore. You make yourself some coffee before going back up to your room.

It was probably still too soon, but you began to plan what to get Steve for his birthday in the next month. Getting something expensive for someone like Steve would be meaningless. You knew he'd appreciate it and treasure it since it came from you, but it would hold no meaning. He was a man who probably didn't have any problems getting what he wanted material-wise (provided he wasn't a fugitive).

So, you needed to get him things that would be more sentimental, something memorable.

You smile as you start to write down a few ideas and people to call.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve smiles down at his phone.

You've been so shy with him lately. Bashful but not pulling away and Steve couldn't help but indulge in it.

He's starting to find it harder to pay attention to Sharon or sleep with her when all he can think about is you. Steve hasn't broken up with Sharon yet. He's still thinking of how to do that. He doesn't want to hurt Sharon...

A movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention, and he looks up at the monitor in front of him. It was Blake, starting to pace back and forth again.

It had been a week since he captured Blake, but he wasn't anywhere closer to getting his answers. He just wanted to understand why you had chosen someone like Blake. He was so...bland, and whatever you shared with him was so empty.

Steve got that from rifling through Blake's phone. He's checked your texts and any social media app interactions. There wasn't anything privately spoken. Your texts with him really only spoke to arranging dates and when he was coming to your home for dinner with Henry.

Blake only seemed crazy for you publicly. Always liking and commenting on your photos or always posting to your wall. So superficial, Steve can't understand it.

So far, Steve hasn't gotten any useful information out of Blake. The young man didn't seem to know why Captain America had captured him and only kept spouting off that he could give Steve money if that's what he was looking for. The only other thing was Blake continuously saying that Steve must have the wrong person because the only thing Blake buys illegally is weed, and if Steve wanted his dealer's information, he'd be happy to give that as well.

But that wasn't what Steve wanted. He wanted to know why you had agreed to go out with someone like Blake. He wanted to know why you kept saying it wouldn't work with him.

"Please...please! Just let me out, I won't tell anyone..." Blake wails, and Steve sighs before checking the time.

He should probably leave now if he wanted to meet up with you on time.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve sees you first before you see him, and he takes a moment to take you in. You look absolutely gorgeous in your sundress as you search around for him. His chest expands almost painfully when you spot him, smiling wide as you walk towards him.

Standing up, Steve greets you with a kiss on your cheek and a hug, his fingers stroking your shoulder blades. He lingers a moment too long when he feels you shiver in his arms from his touches.

"Hey, sweetheart," Steve pulls back with a smile as he opens a chair for you to sit down. "I got us a patio table, hope that's okay?"

"It's perfect, Steve," you sit down, thanking him with a smile as he sits back in his own chair. "Was work okay? I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

Steve shook his head. "Nah, you weren't. But speaking of work, Tony's birthday is going to be in a week and I was wondering if you'd come?"

You looked surprised before shyly pinching at your earlobe. "You want me to come?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah," he smiled. "I think it'd be great for you to meet the team. It's been a while since the last of us have been really together since that night at the casino. Wanda and Vision will be visiting for Stark's birthday too."

"It sounds like it'll be a big event," you smile.

Steve nodded. "Knowing Stark? Yeah, it'll be. It'll be good for all of us. Things have been tense since the Accords even though they've been abolished."

You nod understandingly as you reach across the table and place your hand atop Steve's comfortingly. He smiles at you before he turns his hand over to hold yours.

You let the heat flood your cheeks as you give one last reassuring squeeze before letting go. Steve looks at you amusedly.

"Yeah, I mean, if you think it's okay that I come, I would love to," you clear your throat before saying.

"It's more than okay," Steve says as the waitress comes by to grab your orders. "Did you want me to come pick you up? Sharon said she had to be there early."

You tilt your head with a smirk. "That would be lovely...but I don't think riding on a motorcycle while in a dress will be good for me."

Steve lets out a laugh. "I'll be picking you up in a cab, there's no worry."

"In that case, I would be happy if you accompanied me," you teased.

Steve smiles as the rest of the lunch is smooth. He takes the time to sit there, listening to you chat and feels warm. You just talk so...easily. It makes Steve feel at ease because he's not scrambling to come up with topics to talk about.

Being in the modern world, Steve had always felt so displaced. It felt like he was constantly trying to keep up with topics. It was nice that you talked about many things, and if it was things Steve didn't know, he didn't feel weird about asking you more about it.

By the end of the lunch, you had moved your chair closer to his so you could show Steve the puppies one of your coworkers had gotten and chatted about whether dogs were something Steve or you had ever thought about getting.

It was then you had some notification come in from an icon Steve recognized. Yellow with a white ghost outline. He'd seen it on Blake's phone as he rifled through it. It didn't seem like anything but some kind of photo-taking application, but Blake did get plenty of notifications from it. Steve hadn't touched it since he was unsure of the purpose.

"What's that?" Steve asked.

"Hm?" You hummed as Steve pointed at the notification before it went away. "Oh, Snapchat? It's like a picture sending social media app. You can send people photos or videos back and forth but the other person can only view it once—or twice if they're quick enough to replay it. Once the photo or video runs out of time for viewing or you click out of it, that's it."

Steve frowned. "I don't understand. Why would you only want to be able to see a photo or video once?"

You smile at the innocence of Steve. It was amusing to see something dark lurking just beneath the surface but also have moments like these.

"Well," you giggle. "It does have many uses. Like maybe someone is sending another person a...risqué photo or video and doesn't want the other party to be able to keep it. Snapchat notifies the sender if the photo or video is screenshotted or recorded."

Steve blushed. "So...it's that kind of app?" He frowned at the thought of you using it. Were you sending Blake risqué photos and videos?

You laughed and shrugged. "It could be used like that. Generally, I think most people just use it to send photos of any kind. Their lunch, where they are, who they're with, really anything. It's popular because, in this day and age, everyone loves taking photos but not all photos need to be permanently documented."

Steve merely stared at you, and you chuckled some more.

"It's like...here, think about it like this," you say. "You like drawing, right?"

Steve nodded.

"So, do you think everything you draw should be hung up in an art gallery? Or do you have some photos that are just meant to be in your sketchbook? Maybe you show a couple of people, but there's also a chance you might throw it away after too?" You tilt your head.

The way you say it just dawns on Steve, and he nods understandingly, feeling warm as he smiles at you.

You grin back at him before you open the Snap in front of him. It was one of your friends sending you a photo of their lunch with a caption and stickers.

"Do you mind if we take a picture together?" You ask Steve with an unsure smile. "It won't circulate anywhere but it might be fun."

Steve nods quickly, and you beam at him as you lean in closer to him, holding your phone up. He's got a boyish grin while you have a peace sign up as your head is tilted towards him.

It's a great photo, showing the sunny day with a playful tone. Steve likes it because it's a memory captured of you so close to him.

"Is there a way to save the photos you take?" He asks, and you nod.

"Could you save it and send it to me?"

You turn your head to look at him, cheeks warm as you give him a nod with a tiny smile.

You send off the photo to your friend, immediately getting a chat message about what a lucky bitch you are.

"Oh!" You say as you slid your phone closer to Steve to see. "There's one more feature I forgot to tell you."

Steve watches as a map shows up on your screen with some kind of cartoonish people standing in New York and other places. Yours seemed overcrowded.

"Snapchat also has a map feature that shows other people you have added where they are if their location services are turned on. See? This is me and it shows where we are."

Steve felt his stomach drop as he stared at your phone.

Blake must've had this feature on for his phone.

The only saving grace was that the map automatically was zoomed into the general area you were in. But if you zoomed out, you'd undoubtedly notice that Blake was still actually in the state.

You and any one of Blake's friends.

That bastard.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Blake woke up startled.

He sat up immediately, seeing a brown bag he assumed food was in. He looked up and saw Captain America standing right outside on the other side of the glass.

Blake dug into the brown bag and ate the burger and fries in there before looking at the hero.

"Please...please, just tell me why I'm here. What have I done? If I've done something, I still have rights to a lawyer!"

Steve ignored the repetitive cries of the stuck up man before him. He merely pulled out Blake's form, waving it with the Snapchat app open.

"This is about mutual trust, Blake. How can I talk to you if I don't trust you? You must've been relying on your friends to notice you were still in New York instead of helping your poor mother in Washington," Steve sighed. "I had to open your 'Snaps'—that's what they're called, right? I don't think I'll ever understand this age where people feel the need to send pictures of their food, drinks, or whatever catches their eye. It's easy enough to imitate, though."

Blake's face crumpled as he realized Steve had turned off his location services and had kept up pretences with his friends.

"No...please, I'm sorry. I—I didn't realize. Those kinds of things just slipped my mind."

Steve hummed on the other side.

"I'll take your word for it because trust is supposed to be mutual, isn't it?" Steve said with a smile, and Blake nodded.

"There is a reason why you're here," Steve admits. "We're currently investigating someone. I can't share the details with you, obviously. But it doesn't look too good. Our intel came up that you're a close contact—dating."

Blake swallowed, and Steve watched the man's eyes dart back and forth, obviously trying to think which girl he was seeing could've done something so bad that the Avengers were looking into her.

Steve pulled out your photo, blown up professionally on an 8.5 by 11 paper, as he pressed it against the glass for Blake to see.

"Familiar?"

Blake's mouth stuttered, opening and closing as he stared at your picture.

"I mean, yes, but I don't know her that well!" Blake automatically admitted.

"Don't know her that well?" Steve cocked his brow. "You have dinner at her house every week. You've gone on dates, haven't you?"

"I eat with her family and I went out on one date with her!" Blake emphasized. "I don't know anything about her and I'm not supposed to."

Steve's eyes narrowed in at Blake's words. "Supposed to?"

Blake's eyes widened as he realized what he said, looking momentarily scared before remembering the situation he was in. If he didn't spill the truth to Captain America, he was going to be stuck here. Blake didn't need to be smart to know what the Avengers were capable of.

"It's an arranged marriage," Blake quickly confesses. "Set up by her stepdad. I thought the entire thing was old-fashion but he's my boss and the man was guaranteeing my whole future if I just married his step-daughter."

"Why does he want to marry her off?" Steve cocked his brow. It wasn't like you had a shortage of options. Arranged marriages nowadays, especially in New York, seemed outdated. You weren't from a prestigious family, nor were you royalty. Why?

"I don't know," Blake answered, and Steve stared at him. "Seriously, I don't know!"

Blake sighed stressfully. "All Henry told me was that if I wanted to secure my future, then I needed to marry his daughter. Henry was very explicit that I treat his daughter's boundaries 'respectfully', but he understood that I'm a young male that has needs. The marriage is strictly business and it was clear I could see other people but I needed to be discreet and keep up pretences."

Steve scrunched his nose and curled his lip in disgust. "So, you just string her along while seeing other people because she won't have sex with you?"

Blake rolled his eyes. "I think you're getting the wrong idea, pal. It's not like she's unaware of the circumstances. She's got a strict stepdaddy and she does what he tells her to do. We're both playing nice with each other. I highly doubt she feels anything for me except tolerance and maybe acceptance."

Steve stands there, taking in the information. If that was the case, why wouldn't you see Steve just like Blake was seeing other women?

This was a problem Captain America could fix.

Was Blake the best option your stepdad could come up with? Surely, he would find America's golden hero a much better option. Steve would dote on you, love you, cherish you. Bedroom activities, frankly, was none of your stepdad's business, but Steve wasn't above lying and saying nothing was happening.

So, why?

"So, if you actually want someone who knows something, maybe you should check with Henry." Blake's voice drew Steve out of his thoughts. "Although I wouldn't recommend kidnapping him as he is a notable person," Blake said sarcastically.

Steve didn't react to the tone as he turned to leave.

"No, wait!" Blake yelled. "I told you everything I know! I'm not close with her! Aren't you going to let me out? I swear I won't tell anyone!"

Steve turned back, quirking his eyebrow at the man. "As I said, Blake. There has to be mutual trust. So, I need to verify your information...and I need reassurance about your silence. Behave and we can talk about it after I check out your story."

Steve turned back and kept walking, ignoring Blake's echoing bellows.

PART VI

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Stealth Mission Part 2

A/N I finished the request, queued it up ready, and then was hit with inspiration. Since the other one is already 1611 words, I thought I would just make a part 2.

Also,

Y/n - Your name

Y/n/n - Your nickname

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Word Count: 1636

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

Y/n was going out of his mind. He had woken up in the medical bay after their last mission, totally confused. It had been a long time since he had been so seriously injured on a mission.

He went back through his memories looking for clues. He knew he had been on a mission with his team, but something had gone wrong. They had been found out and then it got hazy. The only thing he remembered with absolute clarity was getting stabbed in the side.

Y/n felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He must have been captured. But if that was true, why would they have healed him. Surely they wouldn't have bothered if they didn't have to. If they had needed to heal him, maybe they needed something from him. He must have been right when he thought earlier that they wanted information. You can't get information out of a dead man after all.

Y/n swallowed heavily. If he had been captured, and he couldn't get himself out then that would be the only way to stop them from getting what they wanted from him.

'Better to save that for when it becomes necessary.'

He glanced around to get his bearings and his eyes landed on the medical gear attached to him. That would have to go, but then someone would be alerted to his escape by the monitors changing.

Y/n felt his heart speed up in anticipation. He swore loudly as he realized that his escape was probably already compromised. He had been laying here awake for a few minutes and he knew that your vitals change when you are awake.

He ripped the IV out and pulled all the other unnamed wires and cords away from the machines. That might buy him a few minutes.

He bolted up and to the door, but just as he reached out for the handle he heard a loud click. He tried it anyway.

Yep, locked.

He spun on his heel and took in the room he was in. There, a window. His captors must be pretty sure he wouldn't wake up if they were stupid enough to put him into a room with a window big enough to escape through.

"Woah, slow your roll there Y/n/n."

The voice made Y/n spin around, but there was no-one there. He felt disoriented. The world was starting to spin again. He stumbled back from the window, he hadn't even realized he had made his way over to it, when had that happened?

When Y/n looked back up someone was in the room with him.

He stumbled back a step in surprise and cried out when he realized he had moved into someone else.

The walls were closing in now and he knew he had missed his chance to escape unnoticed.

-----------

Bucky was mad. He had been assured that there was no way that Y/n would wake up just because he had left his room for long enough to grab a quick shower and a bite to eat. He hadn't even eaten the food, planning to bring it back to the room that Y/n was still unconscious in.

He was on his way back to the room when the alarms began to go off in the tower. It didn't take long for the voice of Stark's latest AI to start talking to him.

"Mr Barnes, might I suggest you make your way back to Y/n's room? He is awake and seemingly unaware of his situation."

Bucky didn't bother responding, just dropped his food where he had been standing and sprinted for his boyfriends temporary room.

He reefed the door open and stepped in just in time to see his boyfriend spin toward him. He looked past Y/n to see Clint in the room already, standing near Y/n's bed.

Bucky stepped forward to help, but this apparently was too much for Y/n, and he swayed dangerously before loosing consciousness once again.

Bucky barely managed to catch his boyfriend before he hit the floor.

He carefully lifted Y/n up onto his bed and tucked him on once again. Then he turned to Clint for answers.

He was very aware that he was more Winter Soldier that Bucky Barnes at that moment, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The most important person in his life was once again laying unconscious on a bed in the medical bay, and it was Clint who was supposed to be watching him.

Clint swallowed obviously and held his hands up in surrender.

"I swear man, I didn't do anything. He woke up and I don't think he could hear or even see me. I was sitting there the whole time and it was like he didn't even register it."

Bucky glared frostily at him, jaw clenching tightly.

He took in a deep breath, then another. He couldn't bring himself to start yelling in your room, but he damn well wanted to.

"Maybe you should go get someone from medical to fix that." He ordered pointing at the broken machines.

Clint was out of Y/n's room before he had finished speaking.

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

The next time Y/n woke up there was a familiar face leaning from near by before he even had his eyes open properly.

"Hey"

Words were a thing right? It felt like words should be a thing that he knew how to use.

The familiar person handed him a glass of water and held on as he sipped it.

It didn't take long for Y/n's head to clear enough to recognize his boyfriends face.

He sighed and leaned back against his pillows, feeling like he had slept for the last century and like it still wasn't enough.

"Hey, just take it easy. You weren't really all here the last few times you've woken up. Just take your time."

"Ugh, what century is it?"

Bucky's low rumble of a laugh rolled over Y/n and he felt something relax inside. He knew he would be alright now that he was back with Bucky.

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

Y/n was going out of his mind. He had been on bed rest for the last week after he was well enough to leave the medical bay, and Bucky had taken that to mean that he needed waiting on hand and foot. Every time he tried to move at all, he got an attentive look from his adoring boyfriend.

"Do you need something? Should I get you something to eat?"

It was very sweet, and Y/n had been soaking up all the love that his big fluffy boyfriend had to offer, but it was starting to get old.

He was now at the stage where his body needed to start moving more, so that he could start working through the stiffness and build himself back up to where he had been before.

Unfortunately, Bucky didn't agree with him. Y/n was sure that he had been enjoying spending so much time with him and do things for him, but he was done now.

"Bucky, Doctor Cho agrees with me. It's time to start moving around more myself, or I'm going to lose these muscles that you seem so fond of. Besides, I need to start working through the weakness that stabbing caused. It's a liability out there, you know that."

That got him those dang puppy dog eyes that were the absolute worst. He must have learned them from somewhere, but for the life of him Y/n couldn't picture any of their friends ever making a face like that.

He shut his eyes and faced the ceiling instead.

"That isn't going to work this time. I've given you a full extra day, but now I need to start doing these things for myself again."

Better to keep it to himself that at some point he was going to have to go back to sparring with the others and all kinds of more dangerous things than simply getting his own food. They both already knew, but rubbing it in Bucky's face was probably not the smartest move in trying to win this argument.

Y/n was met with silence. He just knew that if he opened his eyes his boyfriend was going to be right in front of him, eyes bigger than ever.

He held out for a full two minutes more before peeking an eye open.

He was right. Bucky was standing right in front of him, but he wasn't pulling puppy dog eyes at him anymore. He had the softest smile on his face as he took in Y/n's antics.

Y/n opened both eyes fully and looked his boyfriend full in the face. Was he okay?

He went to ask him a question, but was met with a soft kiss. It was just a light brush of lips, but it caught Y/n by surprise. He melted into Bucky as he pulled him into his arms.

"I'm sorry, I know. This job that we do is dangerous, but it's something that neither of us would give up. It's a part of us, individually, but also together. I just worry. If something happened to you and I never got to see you again, I just hate that thought."

Y/n snuggled closer.

"I love you, you know that? I wouldn't choose to leave you if I had the choice."

Bucky was silent for a second and Y/n hoped he had read that right. It was the first time either of them had said anything like that, but what Bucky had said had sounded like a confession of love as much as the words themselves would have been.

Y/n looked up and was met with the biggest smile he had ever seen on Bucky's face.

"I love you too."

Neither of them were able to stop smiling enough to kiss properly, but that didn't stop them.

[andromedasstarship]

i could not choose between 77-80 so i overbearingly ask u to use each of them with spencer reid if u wish 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

80. “Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.” + 77- “If you want to leave, we can leave.”

send a prompt + character from this list! 

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings - stress?? mostly fluff 

a/n - tysm kenna for requesting this i love you and i loved writing this. i also went overboard on this one bye! ive also never posted something this long in an ask reply before so if this looks weird BYE!

Your car had long gone cold, but you still couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself out yet. It was futile to try and wrestle your emotions into a tightly sealed box; as soon as you crossed the threshold of the town-home you shared with Spencer, you knew he’d be able to read you like a book. Damn genius profiler skills.

Taking a quick look at the time you knew you had to suck it up and go inside; you were pushing how ‘late’ you could be without him worrying something had happened on your commute home. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and exited the car; taking your sweet time with locking the car behind you and digging your house keys out of the bottom of your bag.

To put it simply, it had been a difficult year. It was the final year of your Phd. program and while- all things considered- you had had an amazing time, the past few months had been both physically and mentally draining. What was once your lifelong passion had suddenly started to feel like a chore; a chore you felt you weren’t even good at anymore. Almost every day was spent either in your own classes or teaching undergrads. Almost every night was spent on the final edits of your thesis or grading work from your students. The few moments of freedom you found were spent doing the boring parts of adult life: housekeeping, getting your car fixed, calling elderly family members, etc.

Neither of you had formerly addressed it, but you knew it was taking a toll on your relationship. Spencer being busy was a constant, but it was normally balanced out by your typical 9-5 schedule. But recently, even on the nights he was home you’d be too wrapped up in your own work to even sit down and eat dinner with him. By the time you crawled into bed he’d be long asleep and in the mornings you’d been leaving for work earlier and earlier in order to get research time in at the university library. It felt like the two of you hadn’t even been awake in the same room for weeks, let alone do anything relationship-y.

Tonight was supposed to change that. Kind of. His team was having a fancy dinner to celebrate some major milestone that you couldn’t remember. It’d been on the books for months, but kept getting pushed back by surprise cases. It felt like everyone held their breath this week, waiting for a case to pop up, but instead everyone was left pleasantly surprised when no such thing happened. It was going to be a great night: classic Rossi pasta dish, all partners and kids invited. Even though the two of you wouldn’t be alone, it’d still be a perfectly good excuse to get out, put on some nice outfits and have a fun evening with friends.

Spencer had been particularly excited. The past week, you felt as if it was the only thing he ever talked about. Not that the two of you were having extensive conversations. He kept talking about how great it would be to get out of the house and how much he was looking forward to having a totally work free evening. His excitement warmed your heart.

Which is why you were taking so long to find your keys. Today had been one of the hardest day you’d experienced in a long time. The thesis meeting you had with your advisor- that you’d been staying up late every night editing for- had gone horribly; it was as if everything you prepared was wrong. Almost every student in the class you taught scored poorly on the latest assessment- on a unit you considered yourself an expert on-, something you viewed as a failure of your ability to convey the info. And to top it all off, even though you felt as if you’d spent hours upon hours working yourself to the bone the past week- in order to clear space for tonight-, you still felt as if you had piles of work to catch up on.

You knew the stress and tension of the day would read clear on your body as soon as Spencer got a look at you. And with how excited he’d been, you absolutely didn’t want to ruin the dinner. You’d hate for him to feel as if you were being selfish or that you couldn’t even prioritize him in your schedule.

You took one last deep breath, before going to put the key into the doorknob. Just as you touched the handle, the door swung open from the other side.

“Jesus!” You exclaimed, one hand clutching your chest as you nearly jumped out of your skin. In front of you was Spencer, smiling down at you with that irresistible grin of his.

“Did I scare you? Sorry. I thought I heard you car pull up earlier and when you didn’t come in I thought maybe something was wrong so I wanted to come check-”

You quickly cut him off- even though you did find his worrying a bit endearing- by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“A good song came on just as I pulled in, couldn’t just get out.” You lied, adding a small laugh for effect. It was an on brand situation for you, something certainly believable. If Spencer had any doubts, he didn’t question you, simply moved out of the doorframe so you could step in.

Inside the house, you set your bag down by the front door like you always did. While kicking your shoes off, you pulled your jacket off, smiling when Spencer had his hands already open to hang it on the rack. You knew he had that ridiculous memory- and you had a pretty set routine-, but it still made your heart swell every time he anticipated your next move and went the extra mile to be helpful.

“So, how was your day?" Spencer asked, as the two of you made your way to the kitchen area. “What’d Professor Addams have to say in your meeting?”

You clenched at the handle of the fridge, grinding your teeth before pulling the door open. When you turned to look at Spencer, you saw he made himself comfortable on one of the countertop stools.

“Went well. They gave me some uh, um, some comprehensive revisions.” You said flatly, turning back to face the fridge; missing the skeptical look Spencer was throwing you.

“That’s good?” He said slowly, before adding, “well how was class? You just wrapped up the last unit didn’t you?” You both knew he knew the answer, but was just attempting to further the conversation. Had it been any other day you would’ve found it endearing, but today just wasn’t that day.

You slammed the fridge door shut, just hard enough to be cause for concern. “I thought tonight was absolutely no shop talk. Huh? Why don’t we just start that rule now.” You said, a slight edge to your voice. It’s not his fault, it’s not his fault.

“Are you okay-”

“Yes! I just don’t-”

“If there’s something wrong, you know you can tell-”

“There’s nothing wrong-”

“Do you need to stay-”

“Stop!” You exclaimed, bringing an end to the constant cutting each other off. “Everything is fine. Okay?” You said, unable to maintain eye contact.

Spencer slowly nodded, though you could tell he didn’t believe an ounce of what you had just said. Luckily for you, he seemed to let it go, falling back in his seat.

“I’m gonna go shower and get ready and then we can leave, alright?” You asked rhetorically. When he just nodded again, you very quickly walked up to him and pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

---

The ride to Rossi’s was silent, something that normally wouldn’t have bothered either of you had it not been for the borderline argument you had in the kitchen. As you pulled up a few cars down from the house, you caught Spencer staring at you from the passenger seat, a slightly concerned look on his face.

“Stop doing that.” You huffed out, but there was no real bite in your voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked gently, reaching out to push a piece of your hair away from your face. God that was sweet.

You quickly nodded and threw a very forced smile his way, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m fine. I promise, come on.” You said, killing the engine and pushing open your car door.

Before you could fully open the door, Spencer’s arm shot out across your body and pulled the door back shut with a bang.

“Spencer!” You yelped, startled by his sudden movement. You turned and gave him a bewildered look.

“You always look over my head when you lie.” Spencer stated.

“Oh I do not-” You started, but letting the sentence fall flat as soon as you realized you currently were looking over his head.

“Your favorite song came on the radio, twice, on the drive here and you didn’t react at all either times.” He said. When you still didn’t say anything he continued. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me.”

The look he was giving you was making you feel all sorts of guilty. Of course he cared, that’s why you loved him so much. You just didn’t want to ruin something that’d been in the works for so long, all because you had a bad day.

“Spencer,” you started, giving him a very pointed look and making sure to hold eye contact, “I’m fine. Can we just go in?”

Spencer shook his head, externally searching your face for more clues while also internally thinking back to any clues from your kitchen fight. “We aren’t going anywhere, until you talk to me.” He urged.

It probably wasn’t the best move on his part, seeing as you both were incredibly stubborn. The two of you were unrelenting, both staring blankly at the other; hoping the other one would break first. After nearly 5 minutes of silence, it became very clear that neither of you were standing down anytime soon.

Spencer reached his hand out again, gently cupping your cheek; internally you cursed your body’s natural reaction to lean into his touch. “What’s going on?” He asked, voice much softer than earlier.

You were internally screaming over how caring he was. Damn him! You cursed yourself for not being able to just play the role of perfect partner for one night.

“I’m exhausted.” You said, voice quiet. “My meeting went horrible day. I absolutely failed at teaching my students the last unit. I’ve been bringing so much work back to the house I haven’t even been able to give you a second of attention. And now we have this dinner that you’ve been looking forward to for months and I don’t want to ruin-”

This time, it was Spencer that quickly cut off your rambles with a kiss.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, as if it were the most simple thing ever

You gave him a shocked look. “Spencer, you’ve been talking about this dinner for weeks. I, I can’t ask you to put this off, you and the team rarely get time to-”

“If you want to leave, we can leave.” He said. His voice was so sincere it made the whole thing that much more difficult. He was too good.

“Spencer, no.” You said, putting special emphasis on the ‘no’. “We haven’t even walked in the door, there’s nothing to leave yet. I’m not going to ruin the dinner we’ve all been planning on for months. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”

He didn’t answer, instead pulled his phone out and quickly started to type out a text.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Rossi, I’m gonna tell him you aren’t feeling well and we can’t come anymore.”

“We’re outside his house! It’s not a big deal-!

“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner!” Spencer cut you off, giving you a very pointed look. You weren’t sure your heart could take the swelling much longer.

“Spencer, you’ve been planning-”

“I don’t want to hear it-”

“You’ve wanted to get out of the house for so long!” You stressed, giving him a ‘duh’ look.

“We can go do something else!” He replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just us, no pressure to be ‘on’ in front of anyone else.” That did sound good- No!

“I’m not gonna be the one who keeps their boyfriend away from his friends-”

“I see them every day. Every day. One dinner means nothing.” Spencer said confidently, clasping your hand tightly between his.

You contemplated for what seemed like hours; though it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.” Spencer said, giving you a very mock serious look; you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “There you are.” He said, smiling to match yours.

You turned the car on, clicking your seatbelt back into place. “So, where to pretty boy?” You asked.

“Well, I heard of this new ice cream place that just opened up. Their ‘claim to fame’ is they make over 50 flavors in store every single day. Did you know on average it takes nearly three hours from start to finish to make a single batch of ice cream? Or that when ice cream-”

You shook your head in amusement, chancing a couple glances in his direction as you were driving. You loved his excited ramblings and animated hand motions as he further explained the history of ice cream; as well as all the random facts about the place he was directing you to. As you got closer to your new destination, all you could think about was how lucky you were to, to be loved by someone who always knew just what to say.

---

permanent tags - @sunflowersandotherthings

[philtstone]

20 from the touching list and dealer’s choice for pairing!!!

#20 -- bandaging/stitching up an injury

you can also read this on ao3! this got egregiously long and i may eventually just post it as its own fic but also i have no regrets bc ive been thinking of this concept since i made this clown post like 2 weeks after fatws ended. technically part of this verse but can definitely definitely be understood just fine as a standalone. yeehaw!

"Ah ... shit."

Bucky's been in his fair share of dingy motel rooms, and this one ain't so bad as far as they go. Sarah checked for bed bugs before the kids wiped out and didn't find anything. There's a more than functional toilet, with complimentary soaps. The carpet only smells like piss a tiny little bit.

"It's got ambiance," Cass had declared at the door, ever good-natured, rubbing at his eyes exhaustedly under lopsided glasses even as he held tightly to his mother’s hand. AJ had fallen asleep in the backseat of Old June after the commotion on the interstate, and hadn't woken up even when Bucky maneuvered him out of the car and carried him the three flights up to their rented room; he'd asked, from his squished-cheek position against Bucky's shoulder, "'S'it got a TV?"

It hasn't.

Bucky keeps wanting to apologize. He's not sure what for. It wasn't technically his fault that the house got jumped by armed goons. It wasn't technically his fault that Sarah's front hallway is currently full of broken glass, or that the ever-enduring Ram has finger-shaped dents in the hood, or that they had to leave a bunch of knocked-out suits in the backyard for poor Ms. Gloria or the fuckin' state troopers to find. They were all still breathing – he made sure to stop and check. Since Sarah drove past state lines he's only had to take a second and re-anchor himself in his own body once, which is a great, fantastic improvement from the last time he ended up taking out a truckload's worth of strangers without explicit knowledge of who they were or why he had to engage with them, but God, he will be miserably, stupidly happy when they can finally get a lock on wherever Sam is, and figure out why the latest megolomanic supervillain came for Captain America’s family.

Meanwhile, there's an open wound in Bucky’s side that he hasn't noticed until now.

He’s slipped into the motel room's single bathroom, and has to crane his neck awkwardly to get a proper look at it. It's already kind of gummy. Tacky against his fingers and torn shirt. Pretty short across, though deep enough that it's clearly been bleeding sluggishly under his jacket for the last few hours. Not an active problem, though his favourite grey long-sleeved is ruined, which is annoying, and in his newfound awareness the place where the farthest side of his ribcage, almost on his back, got caught by something -- stray bullet, most likely, though that glass he was thinking of is definitely a contender – is stinging more than is reasonable.

It'll be gone by tomorrow. Bucky's already resigned himself to the fact that he's not sleeping at all tonight, so that other part's fine too.

"Bucky?"

"Uh --" He clears his throat, compulsive, straightening up to face the bathroom door and fumbling with the first aid kit he found behind the toilet basin. Sarah's quiet voice is as full and melodic as it always is. "It's -- yeah?"

Sarah says, in the same muted voice,

"Can I come in? I saw some mouthwash in the cabinet and like, I need to rinse my mouth out or I'm not gonna sleep a wink."

"Oh -- sure, I mean, of course."

She enters, soft on her feet. He hovers, trying to maneuver one antiseptic-wipe-holding hand up and around under his shirt without making too much of a big deal out of it. The angle is stupid-awkward, as if whatever did it did so out of an ironic sense of spite. He keeps his head down, and asks, matching her earlier tone,

"Are the kids okay?"

Short-form sigh, the sort she makes so often. Sarah's no stranger to complicated circumstance.

"They're holdin'. Asleep now, probably be a bit freaked out later. You know how things catch up with you."

Bucky lets out a humourless chuckle in spite of himself and nods, listening to Sarah fumble with the bottle cap, pour the liquid out, and take that kind of measured sip people do when they don't wanna make weird mouth sounds around others. She spits, quiet-like, into the sink. Rinses her mouth out. Turns around.

"God, that’s disgusting. Anyway, there's one of 'em on each bed, so I thought --"

"It's fine, I can just take the fl --"

"-- Jesus Christ, Bucky, you're bleeding!"

Her voice climbs in volume at the same time and pace of her widening eyes; in a second she is much closer to him than before in the objectively too-small bathroom, hands hovering.

"It's fine!" he says hastily, trying to keep his own voice level; the last thing he wants to do is wake the boys up after the day they've had. "Sarah, seriously, this is not a big deal. It'll be gone by tomorrow."

"How -- why didn't you say anything --"

But she's reeled it in. From shock to pragmatism in the flip-switch of a heartbeat, and he didn't even realize that he'd been worried about freaking her out until something about the practical way she's looking at him makes him sag, instinctually, against the peeling wallpaper of the bathroom wall.

Still,

"I didn't notice," Bucky admits, eyes flicking over to the stained yellow shower curtain. He tries not to grimace at himself. Sarah tucks a loose braid behind one ear and he sees her lone remaining earring glint. The other got lost somewhere, status unknown, she said in the car she didn't care much anyway 'cause they were department store knock offs from a Black Friday sale.

He had noticed when she first came in that she'd changed out of her dirty clothes, but kind of in his periphery; now that she's right in front of him, it's extremely difficult not to full-body register her silhouette. She's lost her familiar plaid and the yellow t-shirt beneath it, and is dressed in a thin camisole and old bicycle shorts she must have dug out of the Goodwill donation bags perennially stored in Old June's trunk. The camisole is a pale off-white, bright against the dark pouch of her midriff it's ridden up to expose, and the soft slopes and curves of her shoulders and breasts. The bicycle shorts are -- well.

He swallows, reaching through patchy swatches of pre-war memory to access his mother's stern voice, then his grandmother's, then the hairy-chinned nun who always yelled at Steve for being a shit altar boy, and hell, even that one Rabbi down at the corner of Fourth. Pull yourself together, Barnes.

Sarah says, hesitant, but not disbelieving,

"It doesn't hurt?"

"Not much."

Her lips purse together in a flat line and Bucky has to work hard not to stare at them. She raises a considering eyebrow. "So you were, what, plannin' on prancing around the next few days with a bloodstain under your armpit?"

"It's not under my armpit," Bucky says, maybe a little defensive. Then, "I was gonna toss the shirt."

"While you're still bleeding?"

"Mostly slowed up."

"You'll ruin the only spare clothes I could find in the trunk."

"It's --"

"Don't give me that, Bucky Barnes. You’re the one who told me we’re trying not to attract attention to ourselves. Like, I don't know about you, but I'd notice if someone walked into a Waffle House lookin' like a Tarantino film."

Bucky doesn't know if he wants to sigh or laugh.

“It is not that bad.”

“Uh huh.”

He closes his eyes, wincing but steady. Sarah usually makes him feel steady. Even with the bicycle shorts, and the dizzying proximity, she does.

"You're taking this all really well," he comments.

"Baby, I am a pro at compartmentalizing," Sarah says. "Just now? I'm perfecting a lobster mac recipe in my head."

Bucky gives in to that laugh. "I can't reach it properly," he admits.

"May I take a look?" Sarah asks. It's gentler than before. Maybe that's what gets him.

"I -- yeah. Yeah, alright."

She walks the two steps around him and he tugs the hem of his shirt to his ribcage, stays silent when the fabric pulls against torn skin. He can feel the wound, small as it is, open again when he moves. He tries to use his other arm to hold his shirt up, but nearly elbows her in the nose.

“Shit, sorry –”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll just –”

He gives up, feels his stomach flip. Before he can think too hard about it he has yanked the shirt up and off over his neck.

Sarah is silent. He keeps his eyes ahead, tense in the anticipation of her touch, in anticipation point blank. She's seen the seam, where the prosthetic meets him. This is different.

"It's not very fun to look at," Bucky says quietly. "I’m sorry if it -- scares you."

She's at his side, still, but in direct view of the faded scarring along his pectoral and scapulae, hiding the internal plating and wiring that made the first arm possible and even marginally functional. Shuri replaced as much of that as possible, realigned the whole thing so the chronic pressure lessened and the ergonomics improved. The new arm is lighter, the scar tissue rehabilitated somewhat; most of the time, any associated pain is either weather-related or phantom. He can say, truthfully, that looking at it doesn’t make him feel sick like it used to. There is a big gap between less now and not at all.

Sarah tilts her head, and there is a minute movement where he thinks she might be biting her bottom lip but can't be sure. Another braid spills over her shoulder, loose in her ponytail. She got new ones last month. They're the really long kind, hanging all the way down her back and swinging around when she moves. They're stunning on her. Everything is stunning on her. He's a fool, and it's true.

"Antiseptic?" she asks. But there isn't anything different about her voice.

Bucky clears his throat, against the ball stuck somewhere in the back. "I -- yup." He digs around through the first aid kit open against his thigh, then holds up one of the packets. He watches Sarah's full mouth twitch, and is unsure why, until she slips the alcohol out of his hand and tugs on one of his gloved fingers.

"You wanna take this off too, Luke Skywalker?"

That was courtesy of some kid at a gas station near Mississippi. So much for staying under the radar, but it's been making AJ go bonkers all afternoon, probably even a good distraction from the gunfire and very real danger, so Bucky cannot help himself, and smiles crookedly at her in response, his cheeks warming.

"Oh. Forgot."

"It's fine." He tugs the glove off his hand and hears the tear of the wrapper around the alcohol swab. "Weird seeing you with it on, though. You never wear that at home."

Home, he thinks. The concept, like Sarah, is dizzying.

"So," he manages, praying his voice comes out steady. "Lobster mac?"

"Uh huh. Key is, you never use warm milk when makin' the roux."

"Isn't that the case for any roux?"

"You really listen when I talk, huh?" And her tone's joking, but Jesus if he doesn't want to choke out the world's most pathetic yes, yes, every word when her warm fingers press over his skin and it's like every muscle in his chest jumps to meet them in response. She was in the coat closet, with the children, when a gunshot went off and shattered the porch door because he knew how to move out of its way like muscle memory. She was there when he ducked left then right then grabbed a man in the exact place required to crush a trachea but didn’t, only disarmed him and pinned him to the papered wall fast and hard enough that he’s going to wake up considerably concussed. She saw him move in precise, inhuman movements, like he has never had reason to showcase to her before. Sarah’s careful palm presses over his ribcage, and Bucky feels his eyelids flutter of their own accord.

"Anyway,” Sarah says, “your lobster's gotta be a good one."

"Of course."

"C'mon, don't be laughing. You never had bad lobster?"

"Honestly, I've only ever had your lobster."

"Okay, I see the ambiguity there --"

"No, no, I didn't mean --" He ducks his head, sure she can see him flushing, "Sarah. Ms. Wilson. You know your cooking's the best thing in all Louisiana state."

"Mmmhmmm. Okay white boy, nice save."

"So, what, no spices?"

"Excuse me," she tears a bandaid open with her teeth and his brain short-circuits just slightly, "I can't be giving away my whole recipe like that. Bad for business."

Sarah works in sure, precise movements, cleaning up the blood and covering it just enough that it won’t stain anything overnight. She is entirely practical, and efficient, doesn't press too hard, nor too soft, firm yet unquestionably gentle against his body in a way that is not really necessary.

"Shit," he says suddenly.

Sarah stills at once, thumb pressed over a muscle in his back midway through smoothing down the tape.

"What?"

"I missed therapy today," Bucky realizes.

Well; yesterday. It's well past midnight now. He looks down at her. Sarah looks up, clearly slipping into problem solving mode. She does it the exact same way Sam does, he’s noticed. She says,

"Oh! I -- well, do you wanna check in, maybe?"

"Check in?" Bucky repeats, a little stupidly.

"Like, text her, explain why you missed it, so she's not worried. I can uh, leave the room."

A beat. Two. Bucky bursts out laughing.

It’s this messy, dissolving thing, leaking out of him with an edge of hysteria, and Sarah’s not far behind.

“So she’s not worried –” he manages, half a groan, hand on his face because yeah, the boys are still asleep in the next room, and they’re here together in the single shared bathroom like an evolution of the strange domestic daydream he’s been living in every few weeks when he shows up on her doorstep. Her giggles continue, syrupy, poorly muffled, even more hysteric than his own. Maybe some of that compartmentalizing has been breached. He keeps on laughing, bent over, objectively too close to her and gasping with it. It’s only when she brings a wrist up to wipe at her eyes, still more or less incoherent, that he notices it, and reaches for her hand without thinking.

“Hey,” he says, still breathless, “Your elbow, Sarah.”

“What – oh?” Her arm’s shaking, entirely the aftershocks of the adrenaline. This is something he knows. “It’s just a scrape." Her voice shakes, with the laughter and other things. "Bumped weirdly against the car door.”

“Here. Come on, we still have bandaids.”

She’s shockingly compliant, usually so stubborn in accepting help in anything, even less when it's personal. She lets him extend her arm and turn it over, holding it carefully over his jean-covered knees so they are not quite touching. With assured movements to match Sarah’s own Bucky takes the last antiseptic packet, dabs carefully at the raw skin, doesn’t quite wince when she hisses. His right hand is large where it cups over her elbow, and he tries not to notice the kick of her pulse against his thumb, or the fact that her dark skin has erupted in warm gooseflesh, or his own unfamiliarity with administering this kind of care to another person.

“There,” he says, when he’s done, feeling a little bit like he doesn’t recognize his own voice. The bathroom is quiet around them, as if the whole world’s narrowed down to just their two and the toilet seat.

“Wasn’t very bad.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he hears himself say. “Now we’re even.”

It’s like it's trying to crawl out of his pores, sometimes, the impulse impress her. To be -- normal -- around her. She is so kind to him. All the time, like it's as natural as breathing. It is like nothing he has experienced in perhaps his whole life. She quirks a smile, pretty and softening for all that she’s just wiped the blood off his back and been chased out of her home by strangers, and he’s hit with that dizzying feeling again – the need to apologize. There’s something sacred about that house, and Sarah and her children in it. The idea of its walls being breached is terrifying to him at a conceptual level he doesn’t really know how to parse out. He thinks Sam might be the only other person who’d get it, and even then, Bucky doesn’t know if he has the guts to bring it up. Because here Sarah is, letting him touch her, and here he is, wanting. Desperately. It leaves him rudderless, and yet with every passing day feels simpler than before.

Sarah extracts her hand from his to tuck a braid behind her neck again, and to toss the small handful of bloodied gauze into the toilet. Moving on instinct, he gathers up their opened first aid detritus, picks his sodden shirt up off the floor.

"Can I tell you something?" she says, after a moment.

Bucky nods, holding his bloodied shirt close to his abdomen.

"So like, earlier today? When those guys showed up? Gotta grab Captain America's sister, whatever. You were in the backyard, remember."

"Of course."

"Painting that awful shed."

"Yeah."

"Took you thirty seconds to get from there to the front, where I was." She takes a deep breath, like she's shoring herself up to say something. He can see her chin wobble -- the slight tremble of her hand. She has to be the single most incredible person he's ever met, he thinks, and he has met a lot of people in his miserable long life. "Those thirty seconds you weren't there," Sarah says, "I was scared."

Bucky stares at her. Even in her borrowed clothes she smells of that coconut she so favours, and he can feel the puff of her breath against his bare arm, flesh and bone like any other man's. His head is still buzzing, though maybe from different things now.

He says, voice rough, “I could stay up, in case the boys have nightmares.”

“You’re thinking of my babies right now?” she asks, in a strange tone.

He should kiss her, Bucky thinks. He should pick her up and press her against that peeling wallpaper and –

“I just thought –”

“Mama?”

AJ’s voice, plaintive and carrying the edge of panic, sounds from just the other side of the bathroom door. Sarah startles; Bucky jerks to his feet and nearly knocks over the first aid kit. For a split second, their eyes lock, wide and heady and caught. Then she curses and stumbles her way out of the bathroom. Her hands close to herself again, held aloft, ready to comfort, dulled again with the mundanity of living.

“Mom –”

“I’m here, I’m here, baby, just in the bathroom. You know how folks gotta pee in the middle of the night. You’re safe, AJ. Is Cass asleep? He’s right here? Okay. Okay, we’re all together. It’s fine.”

Bucky slumps back against the wall, groaning through his teeth, feeling like he’s just been jolted out of a full-bodied dream. He scrubs a rough vibranium hand over his face, tosses his ruined shirt into the garbage can, and pulls his phone out to see if Sam’s back online. He’s not. Bucky’s phone is newly cracked in the top right corner. Sorry I missed today, he texts, to Raynor’s number. Urgent family thing. Tell you next time.

Then he straightens up, rolls out his shoulders, and pads his way into the bedroom, ready to fold himself into the scuffed fold-out chair in the corner and keep watch on the door until morning.

[afterhoursfic]

Hey! Its been a while. Lost the password for my first account- Guess I'll start off with a prompt! Jaskier and Geralt have just left Posada, but every time Jaskier runs off with someone he comes back with a strong scent of desperation, not to mention he covers himself even when he's getting into the bath before Geralt, and Geralt can't figure out why. That is, until he walks in on Jaskier changing. (1/2)

(2/2) Jaskier's cock is small. And Jaskier is humiliated, and Geralt is... Turned on?? He honestly thinks it's cute, Jaskier's size, how embarrassed he is by it. So, Jaskier is pent up of course. When the witcher asks, he can't exactly say no to fucking. He just wasn't expecting Geralt to be practically worshipping Jaskier, thanking him and praising him for letting him touch him and telling him how cute his cock is. Tbh just a praise fic ive been meaning to prompt someone with for a while-

.

I’m sorry this took forever and if it’s not exactly like you asked but I really tried tog give off the whole Geralt loves Jaskier’s little cock vibe so hopefully you enjoy it!

.

They’d only been together for two weeks and Geralt had already lost count of how many times Jaskier went off to an alcove or alley with someone. He would be jealous if it wasn’t for the fact that almost every time he came back desperate, edged with just a bit of hurt, and reeking of quickly dissipating arousal, which doesn’t help Geralt’s own need.

At first, he thinks it’s some sort of game? Kink? Whatever it is, and just something Jaskier does, which is to torture himself and Geralt too by proxy, until he gives himself the best orgasms ever apparently, because there are very few occasions where Jaskier comes back, loose with a carefree smile and just oozing satisfaction as if he hadn’t felt it in a decade.

Those are the times Geralt is jealous and he’s half tempted to ask Jaskier how he does it until said bard walks, well storms into their room, the familiar stench of hurt, arousal, and longing soon clouding up the room.

He asks Jaskier if he’s alright of course because he’s not an asshole all the time, but like all the times before Jaskier shrugs him off and tells him he’s fine as he makes a beeline for his bags and the waterskin which contains half a bottle of wine.

They sit there for a few long minutes, Jaskier steadily drinking as Geralt turns his attention to the noises of the town filtering from outside just to distract himself when suddenly Jaskier moves, putting down the waterskin and stretching before he starts undressing.

“D’you mind?” Geralt doesn’t have to ask, he just turns to the bath in the corner of the room, the water stone cold, at least until Geralt flashes igni at it, and he watches as Jaskier sinks into the hot water with a groan and his back turned to him as usual.

It’s not odd per se to want a bit of privacy, but they travel together so it’s inevitable that at some point they’ll get to see everything, hell it was probably the second day they knew each other when Jaskier watched him strip naked to bathe in the river and he earned more than a few compliments. Jaskier was private and that was fair enough, but he’d always shriek and cover himself as if scandalized if Geralt even so much as glanced his way whilst he changed or tried to take a peek.

It was odd though that Jaskier would turn his back to him to get in the bath, only to then turn to face him, if he were embarrassed about his body then why show it off now? All he had to do was sit up in bed and he could catch a glimpse if he wanted, but to each their own. Clearly, Jaskier had no intention to talk about whatever was bothering him for the hundredth time already and so instead he settled back into his bed and left it be for now.

.

He left it for about a day before they were pulling into another village and saw Jaskier charm and flirt his way around the tavern, reeking of arousal, and he pointedly looked away when the woman dragged Jaskier into a backroom already heavily making out and using his hands to work on the ties of her dress whilst her free hand was palming at his cock.

Resigning himself to a night alone Geralt ordered another drink and reached a hand down to shift his cock a little from where it was pressing hard and insistent against the laces of his trousers. It was going to be a long night, especially with the smell of Jaskier’s arousal lingering in the back of his throat.

At least that was until the woman all but charged out of the backroom, her hair loose and dress falling off of her shoulder as Jaskier raced out a second later trying to do up his laces as he tried to catch up with her. Once she’d barged through the front door, Jaskier gave up the chase, staring forlornly at the closed door as if hoping for something else to happen, and after a long moment when it didn’t, he turned and went upstairs to their room, and Geralt briefly noted that burnt, frustrated smell Jaskier seemed to carry more and more these days and he thought he finally knew why.

Seemed to him that Jaskier didn’t have all the prowess he liked to boast about given that this seemed to be a common occurrence. It’s not like Jaskier was a bad lover, he’d heard the bard get a woman off several times on just his tongue, a lot, so much so he felt like he was lacking in the bedroom sometimes, and yet his latest conquest had stormed off and left them both unsatisfied.

He was just drunk enough that he was willing to go for answers, hell if he was desperate enough he’s sure he could talk Jaskier into a mutual hand job, anything to beat the monotony of jerking himself off quietly under the covers every other night.

So, he downed his drink in one, stood up on legs far too steady for what he was about to do, but he was just desperate enough to do it anyway.

For once being a witcher was actually helpful, it meant he could go up the stairs without being heard, so when he barged through their bedroom door, he was met with the sight of Jaskier stood over the bed, whining as he jerked his fist frantically.

Geralt felt his mouth dry at the sight, but he only had another second to savor it before Jaskier was jumping back, hand leaving his cock to try and grab the blankets and cover himself. It was too late though, Geralt couldn’t help the way his eyes shifted to see Jaskier’s cock hard and red, and no bigger than his middle finger, and yet Geralt couldn’t hold back the curse that fumbled out of his mouth as his cock twitched at the sight.

“Fuck Jaskier, this why you can’t get laid?”

“I can get laid just fine, witcher” He watched as Jaskier fumbled his hands in front of him to try and cover up, not that it mattered at this point, he could see the flush on his face, the sweat beading at his temples and smell the mix of arousal and embarrassment all in one. Despite all of this Jaskier was still hard though, shuffling on his feet as if that would help him somehow and Geralt’s mouth watered at imagining the taste of it on his tongue.

Despite the way he tried to hold himself he could hear Jaskier’s jackrabbiting heartbeat, but he didn’t bother mentioning all the times Jaskier had come back to their rooms stinking of arousal, frustration, and embarrassment and being all around unsatisfied because it wouldn’t help him here. Instead, he took a step closer, licking at his lips to taste the arousal in the air as he pointedly looked at Jaskier’s cock, safely hidden behind his hand now and he’s sure he looked desperate as he looked back up into Jaskier’s eyes.

“Can I jerk you off?” His voice is small as if he’s unsure with himself, and he supposes he is, it’s not like he’s ever propositioned Jaskier before and he doesn’t know how he’d take the rejection, if they could even go to being friends afterward.

“Is this some kind of joke, because it’s not very funny”

“Of course not, but you’ve got such a pretty little cock Jaskier, let me get you off, please” They stood staring at each other for a moment before Geralt took a step closer and when Jaskier didn’t shy away he took another step and then another until they were stood directly in front of each other “Say no and I’ll stop, but please let me touch you Jaskier, let me look after you”

He let out his breath when Jaskier nodded his head once, collapsing to his knees immediately and watched Jaskier stumble back a step clearly caught unawares, but then he’s looking up, watching Jaskier’s face as he pulls the bard’s hand away to replace it with his own, pressing his thumb against his slit to coat it with pre so he could slick his hand over his cock.

It was only when Jaskier leaned forward to rest a hand on his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed and a low moan leaving his mouth that Geralt looked away, licked his lips again as he watched his whole fist cover Jaskier’s dick, and started to use just his index finger and thumb to jerk him off so that he could see the slick head of his cock past his fingers and drip pre all over the floor.

He leaned forward to lick off a drop threatening to fall, his tongue just brushing the tip of his cock and caused Jaskier to shudder violently and groan, a testament to how long he’d gone without another’s touch, and he barely restrained himself from putting his mouth over his cock then and there.

“Can I suck you Jaskier? Please let me get my mouth on you, need to taste you, see if you can reach the back of my throat-“

“Yes, fuck yes just do it” He almost didn’t recognize Jaskier’s voice, but he didn’t dwell on it, just pulled his fingers away so he could swallow his cock in one, groaning as he felt the tip just brush the back of his throat, and the salty taste of pre on his tongue before Jaskier’s cock jerked once and with a shudder he came.

Geralt easily swallowed it and kept licking at his slit until Jaskier’s nails started to dig into his shoulder, then he pulled away just enough so he could suck the head of his cock a little bit longer, a spare hand going to roll Jaskier’s balls in his hand, squeezing them just a little to coax a weak spray of come in his mouth before Jaskier grabbed his hair and pulled him off. They both ignored the fact that he whined, although he’s sure Jaskier won’t remember it in his pleasure addled brain.

“Fuck me?” He watched Jaskier blink once, then twice as he tried to think over an answer, all whilst Geralt wrapped his fingers around his cock again, ever so slowly moving them whilst he pressed kisses against the tip, down to his balls, and then back up to his hips. It served its purpose of getting Jaskier hard again, he’s sure the bard’s been neglected enough that he’ll be shooting off like a teenager all night. “You want to get your cute, little cock in me? Bet I don’t need much prep, you could just slide in now if you wanted, do you want to? Want to finally have a hole to fuck?”

“Fuck- Geralt I swear if this is-“

“No, no, just need your cock in me, want to come just on your pretty cock, please Jaskier”

“Fucking hells yes, get on the fucking bed before I come again, want to be in you when I do” Geralt didn’t waste a second, using his reflexes to good use as he stripped off his clothes to lay on the bed, and frankly it showed how desperate Jaskier was to get his cock in something because he didn’t even complain about not getting to undress him. There were plenty more nights for that but right now he needed Jaskier’s cock in him and he needed it now.

Although Jaskier probably could just slip his cock into his hole with just a bit of oil, that didn’t stop Jaskier from making quick work of teasing him open on one finger, just one so that he could just about feel the stretch of Jaskier’s cock when he pushes in. Maybe in the morning he’ll wake up early and stretch himself on his own fingers before sitting on Jaskier’s cock to see if he could feel it, and the thought had him moaning and stretching his legs open wider to get Jaskier closer to him, to tell him to get on with it.

Then Geralt was shoved on all fours, his chest pressed into the mattress and he held his breath as he waited to feel when Jaskier would push in. He couldn’t help himself when he looked over his shoulder just as Jaskier was slicking up his cock and lining up with his hole “It’s alright if you’re little cock slips out, I know you can’t help it”

“Shit” That was all he said before Jaskier started pushing in, Geralt could feel it stretching him open a little and he groaned as it pushed deeper until it nestled just below his prostate like the continent's best tease. Jaskier didn’t even have the patience to build up a rhythm, just began fucking with abandon, and thankfully his cock hadn’t slipped out, yet, but Geralt knew he was close, could feel his cock twitch inside him, and hear the groans building in his chest as Jaskier rode him closer to orgasm.

Geralt just clenched around his cock as hard as he could, heard the catch in Jaskier’s breath and the stuttered gasp as he bent over his back and came, still quickly fucking into him until his orgasm ebbed and it was nothing more than the slow drag of Jaskier's cock in his hole, brushing against his prostate on every thrust that had him tense and his own cock leaking onto the sheets beneath him.

“Come on Jaskier, I know you’ve got more than that, finally got someone you can fuck with that pretty little cock of yours, don’t you want to use it?” He was answered as Jaskier just groaned a low yes, feeling him snap his hips against him and hearing the slick squelch of the come in his hole as he set a quick pace, his cock twitching to get hard with every thrust, and Geralt couldn’t help but groan as he rolled his hips back to meet him “That’s it Jaskier, just like that-“

He was cut short by his own groan and Jaskier’s curse when on the next thrust Jaskier pulled out too far, cursing as he fumbled with his cock, smearing it across his ass down to his balls until finally, he managed to get enough control to push it back into his hole, Jaskier’s fingers gripping his hips hard as he started fucking him again.

He was right, Jaskier was eager and pent up enough that he shot off like a teenager for hours, fucking him as a man possessed, and Geralt was lost in it, Jaskier’s cock brushing his prostate with every thrust and left him groaning as Jaskier milked his cock dry. The sheets below him soaked in sweat and come and left him clenching his jaw to stop his snarls escaping, all whilst Jaskier moaned above him, pressing messy kisses along the line of his spine, his neck, until they both were drained physically and metaphorically and collapsed onto the bed in a sweaty heap.

The smell of their come and sweat strong but not as strong as the waves of satisfaction rolling off of Jaskier, of the fatigue and arousal deep in his skin, and he knows in a few hours they’ll be doing all of this again, but at least now he won’t have to scent the burnt edge of frustration to him anymore. All he had to do was get on his knees and give Jaskier his pick of holes and if he were lucky maybe one day, he could get Jaskier on his back so he could milk his cute little cock for hours, or maybe edge him if he wanted to get him as desperate as he was tonight. Either way, he let sleep take him, bone tired as he was if he was going to have the energy to ride Jaskier’s cock in the morning.

[jincherie]

florescence | iv

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 5.1k+ ❀ — rating: sfw ❀ — warnings: a pinch of angst... oops ❀ — notes: fiddling and editing, i felt that i needed to expand this bit more so i added some context and cut the end scene off to make the feature of the next chapter

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 16.11.2019 // masterlist || prev. | next.

"You're not going to be returning to a happy audience, y/n."

Startled from your position where you are crouched tying your shoe, you look up and take in the sight of Changkyun's feline form leaning against the wall beside you, white-tipped tail flicking idly behind him. Somewhat amused yet chagrined since you know exactly what he's talking about, you let out a sigh and finish tying your shoes before rising to a stand, dusting your hands against your jeans.

"I know," you respond, somewhat dryly. The cat hybrid is a little too smug for your liking, having been privy to the problem that's been making itself known in your life this week. "I can't help it though. If they want to keep eating pancakes and meat dishes then they gotta put up with me leaving the house for work. I need food tokens because that's capitalism, babey."

The hybrid snorts, rolling the ring over his lip with his tongue before deciding to deign you with a response. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone else refer to cash money as food tokens, but you know what it has a nice ring to it, so I'll let you have that one."

"Thanks for the charity," you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. The kids that had been under your care for the evening are fast asleep in their beds, so you don't have to worry about them catching you leaving and throwing a tantrum. Their mother, a lovely woman who works as a secretary to the CEO of one of your local well-established businesses, has already returned home to thank you and pay you. Staff meetings that run late into the night are particularly gruelling for her, and you made her promise she was going to get some good rest before she retired. Changkyun, the household hybrid who has too strong of a personality to ever be anything but the only hybrid in the house, has followed you out to the front door, and is making the most of his remaining time to bother you to the best of his ability.

"Have they told you why, yet?" Changkyun seems unwilling to let the previous topic go, persistent in his efforts to pull the latest information from you. Begrudgingly, you play along and give the nosy cat what he wants. He's awfully invested in your current affairs for some reason, probably because he'd been nagging you to get hybrids of your own for so long and now you'd finally ended up with some, to his glee.

"No," you huff. Your eyes slide away from his form, falling upon one of the lovely paintings displayed on the walls as you pout. "They haven't said a word, but they're still acting the same."

You don't like the look that enters the hybrid's sly eyes. "I can help, you know." He takes a step closer, leaning forward with a shit-eating grin. "I know what's bothering them. Just let me--"

"Rude cat, if you know then why don't you tell me!" you protest, poking his chest in a manner more playful than anything. "And stop trying to rub on me, I know what you're doing. They were really grumpy with me after you did it the first time so don't think I don't see you trying to stir the pot, cheeky cat."

Changkyun grins, eyes closing in his mirth as he steps back with his hands up in surrender and lets out a laugh. "Ok, fine! Take all the fun out of it! Live without ever knowing the truth, see if I care..."

You roll your eyes, knowing he's still playing with you. "Right, well, I'm going to go before you somehow manage to indirectly upset my hybrids even more. I'm watching you, Changkyunnie."

At the appearance of the nickname you've given him, the hybrid can't help but let out a purr as he laughs and bids you farewell. "Bye! See you next week! I wonder if you will have sorted out your little problem by then."

It's very tempting to flip him the bird, very tempting, but somehow you manage to restrain yourself and you think it really is a testament to your willpower. You bid him farewell and make a quick escape, mind a little hung on his words as you make your way from the house and down the path to where you parked your car.

Will you have resolved this "little problem", as he so blasély put it, by this time next week? You aren't sure, but to be honest you are a little doubtful. Why? Well...

You’re unsure if anyone ever took the time to try and explain the concept of working and jobs to your two hybrids.

You say this because you kind of assumed that they’d know what you mean when, barely three weeks after you brought them home, you told them you were going off to work and wouldn't be back until later—except it quickly became clear that was not the case and they did not, in fact, know what you meant. You’ve been growing closer and closer each day that passed and despite what their guidebooks said, they aren't continuing to act as withdrawn as they had been and aren't refusing to let you close. You’re overjoyed, of course, at the development, but you had no idea it would mean they would get so clingy.

Somewhat disgruntled at the turn of your thoughts as you climb into your car, you recall how it had all gone down that first day you'd returned to work. “What?” Seokjin’s voice climbed in pitch as he looked to you in alarm, attention torn from the pancake batter he’d been stirring. You showed him how to make it without help the other day and ever since he’s been trying to perfect it on his own. He blinked like he couldn’t believe what you just said, and you swore you could hear a hint of fear riding in his tone. “You’re what? You’re leaving? Why are you leaving?”

“I have to go to work,” you explained clearly, a little amused and endeared at the fact he’d evidently thought you’d be at home with them all the time. “I need to make money to pay the bills so we can keep living here and making pancakes, you know.”

When you brought the hybrids home, you’d immediately taken some time off work—you know how critical the first few weeks are in establishing comfort and an environment and dynamic where they feel safe. You suppose you never paused and thought about whether they realised you’d have a job that you would have to return to at some point. Perhaps this was your fault.

“Wh—do you have to? Do you have to go?” He was still holding the wooden spoon he was stirring with, looking at you with wide eyes. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to,” you affirmed, sending him an apologetic look. You almost forgot Taehyung was in the kitchen with you until you felt a tugging on your shirt and looked to the stool where he was perched and—oh, no, he was giving you the puppy eyes, the most potent pair of them you’d ever seen in your life.

“Hey, don’t give me those eyes, mister puppy.” You reached and booped his nose; his cheeks flushed and his ears lowered. “I won’t be gone long, you’ll survive.”

To your complete and utter surprise, Taehyung pulled away and angled his body in the opposite direction, effectively turning his back to you and rolling his eyes. You were left gaping at the uncharacteristic show of attitude. He… just rolled his eyes? At you? What…

Seokjin decided to pursue a different avenue in the hopes of persuading you to shirk your responsibility and stay. He droped the spoon into the bowl and rounded the counter in a few large steps, moving quick and taking your hands into his hold. He whimpered sadly, already making a very strong argument. “y/n, please don’t go.”

You were weak-willed when it comes to these two hybrids, as you quickly found out, but it is because of how much you care for them that you were able to resist. It wasn’t without another half hour of whining and clinging that you were able to leave the house, though. You work as a nanny for a select few affluent families, so its not like you’re working fulltime office hours, and most importantly you’re always going to come back. You have no idea why they’re so opposed to the idea of you leaving at all when they’ve shown they understand your reasoning…

The previous days you’ve come home after work, you’ve received a fair spread of responses. At first, they clung to you. When you came home after that first day of work (mind you, you were gone barely five hours that time) from the second you walked through the door, your two hybrids all but tackled you and stayed firmly attached to your side for the entire night after that. If they could, you were sure they’d shackle you to them.

The night after that, the reception was a little different. They were upset that you’d left again, and proceeded to let you know—for about the half hour that they could last without cuddling on the couch, that is. All you had to do was pull pudding out of the oven and your treason was forgotten, hybrids by your side and pressed against you once more. This, understandably, lulled you into a false sense of security of sorts. Perhaps they’d get over it soon?

Nope. The days after that, they switched it up in favour of something they seemed to think would be more effective. You’re no stranger to the cold shoulder, and usually quite sensitive to it, but to be honest… their attempt humoured you more than anything. The visible conflict in their expressions every time they attempted to brush you off is probably what was funniest. Every time they ignored you, or didn’t respond, it went against their nature and their usual urges. They’re soft, cuddly boys, you’ve found. And they might be grumpy, but even as they’re trying to make a statement, they can’t help but long for the way things usually are. Their cold shoulder usually lasts about an hour, and then they break. Nowhere near long enough to really have an effect.

But by today, when you arrive home from the job with Changkyun, you think it’s beginning to wear on you a little bit. When you ease the front door open, banging your toe on the frame and letting out a curse in the process, no one comes to greet you. The house isn’t empty (you can hear them scuffling about in their room) and the lights are on, but still, it feels… a little lonely. You huff, slightly grumpy that they’re still throwing a tantrum over this. As much as you try not to let it show, it is frustrating. You have to work! It’s not something you can simply stop doing because you want to, or your hybrids want you to.

You halt in the hallway to the kitchen, making yourself pause and take a breath. You’re frustrated and a little grumpy, yes, but you don’t want them to pick it up. They’re sensitive to these things, you’ve found. You watched a video on Facebook about kittens that made you cry the other day and barely a second after the first tear touched your cheek had Seokjin almost broke down your door, worried to high hell and back because he smelt it and thought something was wrong. You’ve been very careful since then, not wanting them to feel upset or uncomfortable as a result of your own emotions.  

Once you’re sure you’ve collected yourself enough, you continue into the kitchen, placing your bag on the table as you walk past. Humming and knowing that the quickest way to get them out of their mood is food, you open the fridge to stare inside, hoping an idea for dinner will come to you like a vision from above. Your fridge may be many things, but it’s not prophetic, and currently it’s not stocked with much food either. Huffing, you close the door with a little more force than necessary and turn away, wincing at the following bang. Hopefully the eggs are ok.

You’re not much in the mood to make a big meal tonight, so you make the executive decision to pull the tortellini you’ve been craving from the freezer and set it on the bench. Begrudgingly, after a moment of consideration, you pull out a few vegetables to add to the sauce mix. You suppose you better put some effort in, since you’ve already chosen the lazy meal.

True to character, as soon as the tortellini begins to cook in the pot and the smell begins to permeate the air, you hear the sound of light footsteps creeping down the stairs, attempting to go unnoticed. You wonder if they underestimate the extent of your human hearing, or if they’re just really bad at being sneaky.

They don’t go into the kitchen straight away, but they go to the living room, as close as they can get to the source of the smell without giving in and talking to you. You roll your eyes, partly amused and partly miffed. You suppose this is how it’s gonna be.

Considering how easy of a dish it is, it doesn’t take you long to cook and serve it. Instead of calling them to the kitchen to grab it, you slip out of the room and make you way to where they’ve started watching Netflix, next to each other on the couch.

Whether they don’t hear you coming or are still hell bent on ignoring you, you’re able to sneak right up behind them, the back of their heads peeking just over the back of the couch. Your hands slip forward, fingers weaving through the silky locks atop their head and ruffling them. Both hybrids jerk, Seokjin letting out a surprised yelp as he turns partly in his seat to shoot you an alarmed look.

The tension in their forms melts away in the next second as the tips of your fingers and your nails lightly drag across their scalps, brushing just barely the bottom of their ears. You think you hear a sharp intake of breath, surprisingly from Taehyung’s direction, but can’t verify it before your hands leave the top of their heads and your smiling at them as they turn to face you.

“Dinner is ready, bubs,” you say, somewhat humoured by the visible conflict on their faces—they manage to settle on remaining disgruntled, though, much to your disappointment.

They rise from the couch, pouting, and follow you to the dining table. They seat themselves without another word, and as soon as they see you reaching for your fork and taking your first bite, they follow suit. You think they plan to stay silent throughout the entirety of dinner, but you manage to wear them down enough that Seokjin lets slip a few sentences of how their day went and what they got up to. Aside from that, dinner passes quickly and somewhat tensely. It’s an odd tension, though, as though it’s not yet fully formed and kind of incomplete. Like there’s a lack of conviction and commitment to it.

As soon as they’re done eating, like the sweet boys they are they take their dishes to the kitchen, rinse them off and load them into the dishwasher along with the other containers and utensils used for dinner. You rinse your own bowl as well once done and pop it in with theirs; without even a glance in your direction, Taehyung adjusts it so the fan won’t hit it and then slides the full drawers in, placing a dishwashing tablet in and turning it on. Efficient; he certainly wastes no time about it.

Already even before this point, you knew that they were going to try and bolt the second they could—and it seems your predictions come true, as the second they hear the dishwasher turn on and begin its cycle, the two of them are inching towards the edge of the kitchen, barely an ounce of sneakiness to their name. Fighting a sigh, you dry your hands before taking a few steps and using them to definitively grasp their own. As you lace your fingers together, the two hybrids freeze, Taehyung shooting you a wide-eyed look and Seokjin faltering in his stride.

"Will you two stay, if you're not too tired?" You ask, a shred of vulnerability more than planned making itself known in your voice. "They added some movies I really like to Netflix, and I really wanted to show you. I thought we could watch them together...?"

You can tell the second you look at Taehyung's face, his features softened and eyes shining, that he's given up giving you the cold shoulder for the night. Seokjin's slumped shoulders, tension having fled at your words, also tell you that he's on the same page as his brother. You brush your thumb over his hand and feel his grip tighten as he turns to you, smiling slightly.

"Of course we're not tired yet, what did you want to watch?"

You spend the rest of the night curled with them on the couch, tension long gone and only warm affection drawing the three of you together, and can't help but think maybe this was the last of their protests. They're sweet, these boys, and you know part of the reason they're upset is that you're leaving when they want you to be here, spending time with them.

But alas, it is not to be, and your optimism is quickly shot down.

Their reaction to your continued absence during the work days persists. Each morning you wake and get ready for work, your two hybrids are there almost every step of the way pleading with you to stay, offering any bribe they can think of onto the table to aid their bid—cuddles on the couch, snacks, movies, naps. Admittedly, each day it gets a little harder to steel your resolve and actually go to work, but you try not to let them see that they’re gradually wearing you down. They’re too endearing for their own good—it probably isn’t healthy for them to have you as wrapped around their fingers as they currently do.

At this point, you get the sense that it’s not just one, but a number of reasons at play that make them so averse to you leaving for work. It occurs to you that they’re probably still a bit insecure, given their background and the fact they haven’t actually been here that long. But at the same time, it feels like it’s also more than that.

You work as a nanny and babysit children, but since you work for families who are usually perched on the upper echelon, it’s not uncommon for you to be spending a lot of time in proximity to other hybrids as well. Ever since they were first created, hybrids have been a symbol of wealth and affluence. Despite much more of the middle and working class having them as companions these days, in a sense that earlier attitude still stands. A few of the families you work for have hybrids, two of them having more than one. Thankfully, none of them mistreat their hybrids, in actuality you were surprised upon first working for them to find that they’re treated almost as well as the children are. It makes you happy to see such a shift from the common attitude, and the hybrids themselves are all so lovely that even when the kids have crummy days and want nothing more than to throw tantrums, you have no complaints.

Despite just over a week and a half of avoidance about why they’re so grumpy, it seems today is the day you’re finally going to gain an insight into the cause of their behaviour and push your hybrids over a line you didn’t even know was there until they cross it.

It’s a Friday where you’ve just arrived home after working with one of those families with multiple hybrids, that you seem to push your own over a line of sorts. You’re a little tired as you come through the door, eagerly slipping your boots off and hanging your bag and jacket up. Neither of the hybrids come running to greet you, as they might have done before you ‘betrayed’ them and started leaving the house for work. You’re less amused than you might have been in days prior, and more pouty—ever since they started cuddling you you’ve grown addicted, and you miss the warmth and affection when you’re away.

Well, you suppose today you’ll either have to go find them or let them gradually come to you.

Humming to yourself, you bring the take-away boxes of stir fry the family had been so kind to share with you into the living room, plopping them on the coffee table with some cutlery. They tinkle and clank together obnoxiously, as most metal items do, and you open a box and sit back, waiting for the sound and the smell of meat to rouse the hybrids from wherever they’re hiding.

You don’t have to wait long—Taehyung is the first to appear, his eyes lighting up on instinct the second he sees you, before he catches himself and smooths his expression, averting his eyes to the food on the table and taking one of the boxes and some cutlery. Even when he’s pouting, he can’t stand being too far away from you; he perches on the cushion next to you, but as far away as the armrest will allow him so that he can still let you know he’s not happy you left this morning. He’s so cute, sitting there and pouting as he shoves stirfry in his mouth, you can’t even find it in yourself to be annoyed at his childlike behaviour. The two of you eat in silence until Seokjin comes, the male’s soft footfalls announcing his presence before the sound of his inquisitive sniffing does.

You look up as he enters the room, curious to see if the fox hybrid will continue giving you a weak attempt at the cold shoulder as he has been for the first hour or so after you get home every night. He does, but when you give him a pleasant greeting with a bright smile you can see his resolve waver. He grabs his food and cutlery and sets up on the couch adjacent to this one, pointedly avoiding your eyes lest his resolve completely shatter. There is a small amount of tension in the air but you decide to let them finish their meals before you address it. Enough is enough but you’re all also hungry.

The second both of them are done and sitting back in content, you stack the boxes and push them further into the middle of the table so they don’t tip. Your movement brings you closer to Seokjin, and he sniffs subtly before his nose wrinkles and his brows draw down harshly. He doesn’t say anything, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip instead, but you catch it nonetheless.

Curious at the reaction and knowing (hoping) you don’t smell bad, you turn to Taehyung and lean closer experimentally to see if he will give a similar response. He does, still not looking at you—surprise filters through you when you see his features twist into a scowl. Wow, this past week you’re really seeing a new side to the shy baby, huh?

“Alright, what is it?” you ask, throwing the question into the tense air before either of them can bolt and fester with whatever mood they’re in. “Why are the two of you so upset and why do you pull that face when I get close? Do I stink?”

To his credit, Seokjin appears a little sheepish at being called out, cheeks flushing with brief embarrassment—Taehyung on the other hand remains steadfast and petulant, crossing his arms. His ears are lowered and still, he refuses to look at you.

“…No,” Seokjin answers you, eyes flicking away. He’s pouting, tone bordering on a grumble. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

You blink, surprised at the sass and distance he’s suddenly putting between you. It didn’t take you long after they arrived to realise that Seokjin preferred open communication and honesty, but had a little trouble working up the nerve to say things sometimes and hence stayed quiet instead. But this time he’s fibbing to you, brushing it under the rug and attempting to dismiss it when you can see something is up. You can’t help but wonder what brought that about.

“Oh?” you say, turning your gaze to Taehyung—the action makes you catch him while glimpsing at you and he rips his gaze away, cheeks flushing as he scowls more. “It’s ‘nothing’ that has the two of you so grumpy?”

Seokjin’s brows drew together, lips tugging down into a frown. Your words seem to set him off a bit, as he’s suddenly on the defensive. “No.  Maybe. What do you care? You’re never here anymore and you—you probably don’t even care about us anymore. You’re too busy caring about—about other h-people. Whatever.”

Your brows shoot up as he stands suddenly, Taehyung following suit—you can tell that Seokjin wants to stomp off and keep being dramatic by ignoring you, but he can’t seem to make himself skip saying goodnight to you. So he says it, but makes sure to imbue it with as much sass and attitude as possible. “Goodnight.”

Completely taken aback, you watch as they file out of the living room and no doubt go to make their way upstairs to their room. You’re not angry, but you’re definitely a bit confused and feel a little guilty, among other feelings that quickly begin to make themselves known. The two of them know that you look after children for your job, and when you told them it didn’t seem to make them bitter or envious—it seems more than a little out of character for them to be upset that you leave them to babysit kids now.

You’re actually a little hurt, if only because you’re also confused and have no idea why they’re acting this way. You have no idea, and they won’t tell you—you could probe further, press harder, but will that make them tell you, or will it push them further away? You don’t want to risk upsetting them more, and if that’s a possibility you don’t think you could make yourself follow through with it.

Sitting there on the couch, completely alone and very aware of the absence of their warmth, your chest aches a little. You’re new to this, you don’t know all the things a new hybrid owner probably should, and it shows. Your first instinct is to focus on them—what is their problem?—but now that you sit here and ruminate a little, you realise that this is more than a little bit your fault. If you were a more knowledgeable owner, then surely you’d have at least an inkling as to what is wrong. But you don’t, you’re so painfully in the dark it’s shameful enough to make a fresh wave of guilt course through you.

You need to find out more, research a little, but you’re not sure where to start. You have no clue what is bothering them in the first place, and even less idea as to how to solve it. Deep in your thoughts, you rise and begin tidying up after dinner in a bit of a haze. You almost drop the cutlery on the way to the kitchen, but manage to catch it just at the last second. After cleaning what you needed to, you made your way to your bedroom and curled into the bed, a frown tugging your lips of its own accord. It takes you a while to settle down and fall asleep as your mind races and leaves you in its wake. You really hope this whole thing doesn't go on for too long, because it's only been a single night that they've ignored you like this and it sucks.

The next day after you work-- a different house to yesterday, one with two male hybrids of the labrador variety-- the reaction is much the same, if not worse. They don't even come out when you call them for dinner, having arrived home early enough to actually make it today. At some point, they come out and take their plates of food, but you miss it, which you're quite upset at yourself for. The first and only time you see them that evening, is by chance as you emerge from your room after a shower and catch a glimpse of them scuttling back to their own. Their dishes are on the kitchen bench when you go to fetch some water, and it makes your heart twinge a little. They're really not going to talk to you at all? You don't think you're doing anything that bad! You have no choice but to leave for work, you need income so you can support yourself and now them. It's not something you can just drop and never deal with, and you have a feeling they know that and yet... something is upsetting them. You just want them to tell you, so that you can try and fix it however you can.

That night, you contemplate knocking on their door and seeking them out, and even get all the way to the closed door of their room before you halt, hand in the air. Ultimately, you can't make yourself do it. Perhaps, if they want to be alone, then leaving them alone is best. Heart hanging heavy in your chest, you turn on your heel and silently make your way to your room, but not before you utter a soft "Goodnight, boys." knowing that no matter how quietly you say it, they'd still hear it.

Your mood is looking like it's about to quickly spiral, so in an effort to prevent it you find yourself in the middle of a self-consolation session. Tomorrow you don't have any work, a day off you've been looking forward to, so surely that will cheer them up and make them emerge from their shells? You miss them, and as you curl into your bed once more without the lingering warmth of their usual cuddles that you seem to have grown accustomed to, you feel lonelier than ever.

You really hope that tomorrow, things will turn around a little.

a/n: i hope u enjoy it n please let me know what u think! the next part is already partially done so it shouldn’t be too long before the next part is out! hurray for the academic year ending here !!

masterlist || prev. | next.

[peter-pan-hoe]

Old Friends Pt 1

Guess Who’s Back Bitches

(Sorry for calling you bitches im just very excited. I love every single of of yall and Im so happy you guys have stuck around during this ridiculous hiatus and i hope to be posting more soon. I just got off my ass today and was like “Alright ya cow its time to write” and i did. Here is the oldest request ive had waiting in my inbox for literal years im so sorry this took so long. Here is part one of what will hopefully be a new series. I’ve taken it in a different direction to start with but i will be swinging it around to meet the request in later parts. So happy to be back. Ive missed you. I love you. Here we go xx)

“So like maybe Peter, y/n, an all the lost boys are having this huge dinner, hanging out and that, and then somehow, for revenge, The Dark One sends one of Peter’s old lovers to the island. That night Peter sneaks off to greet the girl who is STILL in love with him, maybe she puts him under her spell to forget about the reader and then they like almost do da nasty or something and I guess I can leave you to the rest.”

Requested by @bellakae

Warnings: swearing, legit like one f-bomb

I did my best to make Y/N gender neutral but being a cis female I may have missed some gender identifiers when editing and I apologise 

tag list:  @dina3s @just-meh-and-me-dogs @xcastawayherosx @lexymeg

sorry to anyone i forgot. I couldnt find all the asks or my updated tag list. Comment bellow or dm me if you want to be added to the tag list xx

 Every time there’s a new batch of lost boys, or ever just one, to arrive on the island, we have a welcome feast.

The hunter and forager boys gather as much stuff they can find and the cooks put together a huge meal. Given out of the 47 of us that there’s only 6 cooks, we usually have some extra to help out.

When there’s a big group it’s usually because Peter went to the mainland to find boys and bring them here because they weren’t happy at home.

There was that time that 5 or six boys rocked up because they made their way here together.

But if it’s just the one boy, they’re the believers. The ones who wished their way here.

This time around however was because Peter had gone to the mainland.

He usually seemed very happy whenever he came back.

Well no less happy than usual.

He wasn’t sad or angry or quiet like today.

When he returned early this morning with the latest group of boys, he came into our shared hut and stared out the window until morning.

Usually if it’s a late night he would have woken me up to say he was back.

He hadn’t needed to wake me up this time as him simply entering the room had roused me. But he didn’t even look over at me as he walked passed our bed to his little seat on the window sill.

I figured something must be up so I sat up and pretended I hadn’t heard him come home.

  “Oh hey,” I said, faking a yawn. “When did you get back?”

He looked at me with a forced smile.

  “Just a little while ago,” he hopped down from his perch by the window and came to sit beside me. “Did I wake you?”

He gave me a gentle kiss on the head and the leaned down to untie his boots.

  “No I don’t think so,” I lied and shook my head. “I just woke up and you were there,”

He didn’t say anything as he kicked of his boots and put his feet up on our bed.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked. “You seem a little distracted,”

  “yeah I’m alright,” he sighed. “Just ran into an old friend while I was out getting the new boys,”

  “Okay 2 things,” I started. “First is, how are the boys? And how many? And the second thing, was this old friend still a friend or are you not on good terms?”

  “They boys are good,” he replied with a stifled yawn.

I could tell he was very tired, but not his usual physical exhaustion. He seemed tired in his mind.

  “I brought home 14 boys,” he continued. “The youngest 7 and the oldest 17,”

  “That’s a lot,” I said sadly. “All those boys – a 7 year old – lost and lonely,”

  “Mmm,” he nodded in agreement.

  “So what about your friend?” I pressed carefully.

I don’t want to upset him.

  “I’m not really sure,” he sighed. “We didn’t end on good terms but she seemed happy to see me. She even wanted to come back here with us,”

This answer surprised me.

  “She?” I asked nervously.

  “Yeah,” he looked at me apologetically. “Clara. An old… partner of mine,”

  “Partner as in lover?” I asked. “I don’t mind you talking about your ex’s. I’ve got some too y’know,”

I tried to lighten the solemn mood with a giggle.

  “You mean I’m not your first love?” he feigned shock, gasping dramatically and putting his hand over his heart.

  “Oh but you are the truest,” I collapsed into his chest with a laugh.

He held me tight as he lay back on our bed, so I was leaning back onto him.

  “But yes, to answer your question,” he said as he absentmindedly played with a few strands of my hair. “Clara was my old lover. She was someone I met a long time ago,”

I thought about how things would have been with Peter and this Clara.

  “Did she live here like me?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Like I’d told him, I don’t have an issue with him having past lovers. I mean who doesn’t?

  “No,” he said quietly. “We weren’t really bonded like you and I are,”

  “So how did you see her?” I asked as I reached up to brush some of my hair back.

  “Made more trips to the mainland I guess,” he shrugged. “I still only picked up new boys once a month but I went to see her weekly,”

  “But you two weren’t romantically affiliated?” I questioned.

  “Well I wasn’t,” he admitted with a guilty face. “She was very emotionally invested in our… relationship. Whereas I was not,”

  “Oh Peter…” I sighed. “Did you break her heart?”

  “I guess,” he shrugged again. “She started getting really clingy. She didn’t want to come here. I never really found out why but she insisted that our meeting were to take place on the mainland. She began asking me to stay for longer periods of time. Once to the point that Felix came to find me because Neverland’s weather started to turn to a freezing winter. She’d convinced me to stay for weeks at a time more than once,”

  “But she was the only one romantically invested?” I reiterated.

He gave a solemn nod.

  “That’s fucked,” I lay back in the bed and yawned. “How did the encounter go this time?”

  “She seemed the same,” he said carefully. “Like she didn’t even remember that we ended badly,”

  “How so?” I pressed.

  “I came across her in a town market and she ran to me like she was so happy to see me,” he continued.  “She ran to me and wrapped her arms around me like she used to when we hadn’t seen each other for a time. I’m not sure she even realises how long its been,”

He became quiet, thinking.

  “How long has it been?” I could feel my eyelids getting heavy and my voice came out as almost a whisper.

  “Thirty odd years or so,” he brushed some loose hairs from my face, just touching for the sake of touching. “But she left so quickly this time I didn’t even have a chance to ask her why she seems this to be like this. She just said she had errands to run and had to go. That she would see me soon,”

  “That sounds ominous,” I mumbled.

I was processing as much of this as I could in my tired state. I suppose Peter could sense that I was barely awake.

  “Go back to sleep, love,” he kissed my forehead. “We can talk more about it in the morning. Sleep Y/N, we have a big day of celebration to prepare for tomorrow,”

He didn’t have to tell me twice as id already started to drift off from him gently stroking the side of my face.

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Bakugo x reader where he’s a single dad and just started dating again so he’s nervous the whole time between you and his daughter

Bubbles

This was his third date he had gone on that Izuku set him up on. ‘This one is different’ he said . They were all ‘different’ and all not worth his time. These dates not only needed to impress him but his daughter, Thea, too. And he was not going to bring some random woman around his daughter every friday night. Fuck no. Thea was his life, she had just turned 7 and still had no quirk . He accepted it , he was relieved actually, he did not want her to have his quirk.

Thea was the opposite of Bakugou, she was quiet and had gotten timid after her mom walked out. She already felt weird being quirkless and not having a mother just added to it. She was different to the other kids.

The weeks went on. And every Friday night Izuku got an earful over the phone about his latest matchmaking . “No, I'm done Deku. This is bullshit.”

“Kaachan maybe..”

“I said no.”

“Just one more . Kaachan please. I promise on All Might.”

Bakugou was quiet for a minute , his eyes wandering to Thea, she was asleep on the couch hugging one of his gauntlet pillows. He squeezed the phone turning away. “I'm going to beat you to a pulp if this is bullshit, Deku”

“You wont regret this Kaachan.”

Bakugou hung up and walked over to the couch hunched over. He picked Thea up bringing her to her bed.

••

It was actually not bad. You laughed at his jokes, agreed on a couple things. And could even throw his attitude back at him. He even smirked a smile halfway through the date .

Bakugou gave you his number and instead of giving Izuku a earful he just went home, relieving Kirishima of his babysitting duties and snuggled his daughter on the couch.

Bakugou was a little calmer now that he met you, his patrolls went smoother and he did not scare any of the kids when he picked Thea up from school.

You also sent him funny memes during the day and his angry react made your whole day. He sent you one back one day though. It was a cat and a microphone was being held to it and it said ‘Sir? Are you aware that you are a cat?’ And the bottom picture was the cat but surprised. The amount of heart emojis he got back made him crack a smile and take a screenshot.

••

After the fifth date he decided to have a talk with Thea about you. He picked Thea up from school putting her on his shoulders and walked the long way home.

“Daddy the house is not this way” she tapped his head.

Bakugou held her legs tight , he was nervous, and blinking. “Thea, stop hitting my head. I need to talk to you about something.” He turned into the park sitting on a bench putting Thea on his knee.

“Is it about my quirkless-ness again?”

“Thea.. no.” He brushed her ashy blond hair back and pulled off his emergency hair tie on his wrist, he fished her hair back while he talked. “Being quirkless is perfectly okay. But we need to talk about something else.”

“Kay.” She pulled a strand of hair forward and Bakugou pulled it back , she pulled it forward again and Bakugou tipped her chin to him , eyebrow twitching. She giggled grinning at him.

He groaned, pulling the rest of her hair back. “Ive been dating, i'm sure you know by now.”

“When Uncle Kiri comes over right?”

“Yes” he gave her a high ponytail and ran his fingers through it to help straighten it. “I've been on a couple dates with one girl. And it's been going good, i think.”

Thea watched her father with huge eyes and it just made him squirm all over. “Thea, do you want to meet her?”

Thea looked down at her hair running her hands over it thinking. Bakugous throat felt like it had not had a drink in weeks and his heart felt like he just ran a 10k AND fought a villain all on the same day. It was a very hard question, this was his daughter. His only happiness in this stupid world.

“Daddy?”

He blinked and pulled her close. “Yes Thea?”

“I .. wanna meet her but.. i'm nervous.”

“Nervous about what?”

Thea looked up at her father, the Number 1 Hero in the world. Mr Ground Zero himself. Feared no villain, the man who left his mark on UA with a smile on his face.

“Will mommy get upset if i like her?”

Everything felt like it crashed down for Bakugou at that moment. For a second it felt like he could not hear anything, could not feel anything. He was numb.

“Daddy?” She poked at his chest.

Bakugou glanced down at her and wrapped both arms around her a little too tight. “Thea, mommy is..” fuck.. he laid his head on her shoulder listening to her talk. “Mommy does not write to me anymore, is she upset ?”

He straightened out sitting her on his knee facing him, took in a deep breath and let it go.

“Mommy moved on Thea. She did not want to be with us anymore.” He wanted to die. “I was waiting till you were older but.” He rubbed her cheek. “Mommy is a villain now , that's why she has not written you any letters, Thea.”

“But mommy was a Hero..”

Bakugou got up with his daughter in his arms. “I know Thea.” He rubbed her head , his ears ringing from her sniffling. “I know.”

••

The next few days were hard for both of them. Thea was not taking the truth well and Bakugou slipped back into his angry ways. He stopped responding to your texts and it worried you. So you showed up at his route with a bento and forced him to sit down for a second to eat.

“Tell me what's up Katsu.”

“My daughter, shes fine with meeting you , but then she asked me if it would upset her mother.”

The little cat cookie fell out of your chopstick and you just stared at him.

“ so i had to tell her the truth about her mother.”

He snatched the chop sticks digging into the bento.

“Katsuki.. she's quirkless right?”

He looked up and you wiped his chin for him.

“Yes.”

You looked down at your hand watching the little bubbles float out of it, your attention was brought back to Bakugou when he grabbed your wrist making a big bubble burst.

“If you dont want to then we -“

You shook your head . “I want to meet her. I want to help. Anyway i can.”

He leaned on you groaning and you fed him the cat cookie. “This is all too much for a kid her age.”

“You're telling me..” he spat out pulling you closer.

••

The day finally came and Bakugou was pacing around his living room while Thea was on the couch coloring . He was a nervous wreck. Did he still have time to back out?

The doorbell rang.

Fuck, guess not.

Thea looked up from her Heroes coloring book and Bakugou stomped to the door letting you in and leading you to the couch to sit . Thea never took her eyes off you but she did scoot to the far end of the couch, slip off and go behind her father's legs.

“Hey, no.” He moved and Thea followed him making him groan.

“Thea?” You said getting off the couch and kneeling by the little girl. “Its nice to meet you, my name is y/n”

She peaked and Bakugou moved back grabbing her shoulders and crouching down to hold her.

“Your.. Ms Bubble…” she quietly said.

You smiled holding a hand out to her. “I am! Its nice to meet you!”

Thea reached out and Bakugou watched closely only for Thea to turn away and hide in her father's neck. Bakugou was about to get angry but you held both hands up mouthing ‘ its okay’ to him.

Bakugou eased up and rubbed his face with his free hand giving you a long stare.

You sat down criss cross and motioned for Bakugou to leave. He gestured to his daughter and you made a fist punching your palm quietly. He grinded his teeth at your cheap threat and got up walking into the kitchen, hands in his pockets.

Thea got half way to the kitchen when a bubble got her attention, she held her hands out catching it and looked back at you. You smiled and made a few more watching her walk over to you and sit down.

••

Thea did not say much and she did not have to. Her sitting with you was a big first step, for everyone. She sat with you for a couple hours, watching you make bubbles and letting her stack them into a tower. Inch by inch she got closer to you but still had her guard up .

It was maybe a half hour later and the house had bubbles everywhere. Thea was sitting in front of you with a bubble in her hand and you had her hair in your hands making it into a braid. Bakugou was at the kitchen table watching completely dumbfounded. You stuck your tongue out at him.

[presumenothing]

Would you ever write uhhhhh Wrath!Riza AU?

your brain, anon. i like it

-

aqua regia (for destruction, ice) // AO3

Not all that burns is fire. 

(Or: Riza becomes Wrath.)

-

i. 

In another world Riza Hawkeye might have asked the Flame Alchemist to burn away the circle on her back, might have looked at those scars in the mirror and pretended they could lift any of the weight from her shoulders.

In this world that is the least dangerous of everything Wrath carries: a stone at her core red as her eye behind the rifle scope, as hands complicit in plans to burn up this country tearing the heavens from their sky.

She cannot walk away from death as easily as Lust or Envy can, but when the elixir had slid into her veins Riza had burned from the inside and Wrath had walked away with that fire still in her veins, always searing beneath skin that she doubts mortal flame can scar.

(“Now hold still, dear girl,” the scientist had said, gold tooth gleaming dull in lab-light, “it’ll hurt worse if you struggle,” and Riza had remembered Berthold Hawkeye saying the same thing to Wrath at ten and fifteen and eighteen, red on her skin red underneath red burning its way into her heart, and it had been a lie then too.)

.

ii.

Wrath is angry at everyone and everything at once; furious at the ones who had found a cadet with steady hands and steadier soul and saw fit to unmake that, at herself, at those who knew how blood-drenched this country was and kept painting it anyway. The first time she had seen Roy Mustang again she would have snapped his neck clean in half if not for the knowledge of how valuable State Alchemists were in the chessboard of this country.

(That, and her own distaste for the heat of blood over her own hands. Riza has heard enough from Father and the other homunculi to surmise that the previous incarnations of Wrath had loved blood like the edge of a blade freshly sharpened on diamond.

But she is a sniper – the best markswoman Amestris has ever seen, even before they gave her an eye that could see through anything. Why else would they have chosen her?)

She is the Hawk’s Eye, the Fury of Ishval, hell and its woman scorned all in one, and she makes it known in constellations of bullets and impossible shots, precise and deadly as any alchemist’s array.

Riza had been angry too, when she had let herself be, but hers is a cold ire, locked beneath glaciers and the burn of frostbite.

Wrath makes no such pretences. Wrath answers to a dead woman’s name, and Officer – Lieutenant – Major Hawkeye holds her anger boiling right under the surface, scalds her hands in it and fires the next shot.

.

iii.

Roy Mustang holds her at a careful arm’s length.

It might’ve been offensive if it weren’t so ironic. He of all humans should know what it means to hold flame in your hands: let one weakness slip and fire would burn it right through like so much dry grass.

Then again, maybe it’s that same familiarity that breeds wariness. Riza would hardly know. Fury is not the absence of fear, but in her case it’s fairly close anyway.

Either way, it’s the same distance that prevents Mustang from recognising Wrath’s work in doctoring the Elric brothers’ documents a whole two decades older. 

He decides to take Havoc with him, citing something about the persuasion of fellow Easterners; Riza remains in East Command and doesn’t wonder how he will react to finding out that the alchemists he is looking to enlist as human weapons are just barely a third his age.

Not even half of hers, unless you counted the several years since she had become Wrath. 

Company for you, Riza thinks none too quietly, and Wrath bristles, shoving her away to wrest back control.

(Riza lets her. This is exactly the duty she’d been assigned – locating potential sacrifices among the State Alchemists and beyond, so there’s not even any insubordination for Wrath to report, even if she won’t realise until much later how spot on she’d been to find one who’d already been through the Gate.

For now she listens to the Flame Alchemist’s empty-handed return from Resembool, hears him say with seemingly unwarranted certainty I saw the fire in his eyes, and this time she does wonder how he can notice that yet miss the same thing in hers.

Riza knows what she sees in the mirror, after all, even if she always has one eye hidden behind a false lens and swept fringe.)

.

iv.

Wrath, unsurprisingly, finds the Fullmetal Alchemist an absolute riot. 

Eight pints of unrefined rage wrapped in red with the volume cranked up to fifty percent past maximum, and if you had asked anyone at all to name one person in this room who might be the personification of fury itself – well.

Edward Elric gets angry in a way that neither of them know how to be. Riza runs cold where Wrath veers hot, but it’s always controlled, the reins another line in the delicate balance between them; in contrast Edward is an explosion, angry and incandescent with it, and sometimes Riza almost wishes they were like that too.

(No you don’t, Wrath mutters over the scratch of a pen.

Riza blinks and sighs, blacking out a line of expletives about Hakuro and the latest shitshow he’d thrown at them; homunculi weren’t much for paperwork. It’d make some things easier, you have to admit. He gets things done.

Like getting himself nearly killed three separate times in a week, ooh, aren’t you supposed to be babysitting the sacrifices, Wrath? I’d like to see them doing it–

Riza doesn’t sigh again, but it’s close.)

Neither of them feel particularly bad about keeping silent over the Elrics’ search when she’s sitting right here, but on Riza’s part it’s mostly because she’s seen enough to be certain that Edward at least would never use a Philosopher’s Stone if he learned what had gone into its making.

Wrath is just looking forward to the day he does find out. Now that’ll be something to watch.

.

v.

She meets Greed walking down a hallway one afternoon, nodding cordially at the flurry of salutes as he passes each of his people.

Wrath doesn’t miss a beat with her own salute. “Your Excellency.”

“At ease, Major,” the Fuhrer replies with a wave of his hand, but he slows down anyway. “I hear young Elric has made some – acquaintances, shall we say, from Xing with exceptional sensing capabilities. He does collect the most interesting people. I’m impressed.”

“Fullmetal doesn’t take kindly to being called young, sir,” Riza says. “I did hear the same, but I haven’t had the chance of meeting them yet.”

(Not for the first time, she wonders why they had thought it a good idea to put Amestris and all that it represents in Greed’s hands. If humans are possessions to be had, what stopped him from deciding that he’d rather keep it all for himself in the end?)

The Fuhrer smiles, benign as any lethal poison. “Let me know if you’d like some time back in the East, I’m sure your grandfather would enjoy a visit too.”

“I have my duties here, and I’m afraid I’m not much of a chess player. It would only bore General Grumman.”

Wrath’s hands do not tense at her sides, but only because they’re both too disciplined for that. Her aim is every bit as true as his swords, and she might not be able to die and walk away unscathed but neither can Greed; how dare he, Riza thinks.

How dare he, Wrath seethes in agreement, and perhaps it’s time to let some things slip to the Elrics after all.

(She is angry at them, for taking this entire plan one-and-a-half steps closer to fruition, but Riza is angry at everyone; this is just par for the course.

The difference is that she is even angrier for them. Riza barely remembers her mother, and if Berthold had still been alive Wrath would have killed him anyway, so she cannot honestly say that she understands the Elrics in that regard.

But Edward rages at the universe demanding equivalency from it while Alphonse aims cuttingly sharp remarks and wonders about his humanity in the next breath. They would be furious if they knew, anger burning hot and frigid cold, and she is Wrath and Riza Hawkeye and both and neither – this, she understands.)

.

.

+1.

“There was something I’d wanted to ask of you, after Ishval, if – things had been different,” Mustang finishes blindly in more ways than the literal, and it’s irritating what a production he can make out of not saying if I hadn’t mistrusted you.

Riza’s fringe is properly out of her eyes for the first time in years, not that he can see it, and she’d walked away from the Promised Day essentially unscathed but the Philosopher’s Stone is gone now along with Wrath; if she did ask the Flame Alchemist to burn away the circle after regaining his eyesight it would even scar over properly.

She won’t. She knows she won’t. 

Wrath had known it too. Riza still hasn’t quite parsed the jumbled impressions of those last moments, but above all of it there had been mirth. Amusement, because they had both looked at Riza’s soul unfolding around them and recognised the anger there that was hers. Had always been, only shut away and sunk deep in ice. 

If she has any fire in her veins now it is only proverbial, but she is still the Hawk’s Eye, the Fury of Ishval, and there’s more than enough left to burn the next person who tries to lay hands on her.

She looks at Roy Mustang now and continues to not snap his neck because he might be the best hope for this sorry excuse of a country, and anyway if she strangled an injured man in his hospital bed Wrath would laugh at her from another plane and say told you so, he had it coming.

“I’d rather you continue not asking it, Colonel,” Riza says, controlled as ever, but the anger is her own and she relishes the cold-hot burn of it. “I was Wrath, sir, consider yourself lucky that I didn’t let my finger slip on the trigger anytime during Ishval.”

Mustang winces, like he’d managed to avoid consciously putting it together until this point. “I suppose that, ah, rather answers it anyway. So that’s a no to supporting my bid for presidency?”

“That depends on your plans. Which you can tell me about after I’ve returned from my month’s worth of personal leave,” she adds pointedly, and turns to go instead of adding that Greed’s not exactly a high bar to beat anyway. “Have a speedy recovery, sir. Good day.”

Mustang’s expression as the door closes suggests that he’s actually okay with having a second-in-command that has been angry at him for years, and she’s… not sure what to do with that, really, but maybe she can work with it. Maybe.

(Fury is not the absence of fear, nor a dearth of kindness; the Elrics are proof enough of that. Riza knows what she saw in the mirror this morning, familiar and foreign all at once, and she’ll just have to figure out the rest from there.

Perhaps she’ll drop by Resembool and stay for a bit. She’s not angry at anyone there, not anymore – it might be a nice change of pace for once.)

.

.

.

EDIT: NOW WITH ART FROM ART

(more fics here)

oh boy. this was literally stream of consciousness on my part with even less planning than usual, impossible as that sounds – all i knew i wanted was for wrath!riza to be much more like greed!ling than wrath!bradley, because otherwise what would be the point. 

but then even as i was writing i realised how many people riza would have reason to be angry at, justified or otherwise: roy for the whole flame alchemy thing, the elrics for getting into this mess, even grumman for leaving her with berthold if he’d even suspected what was going on (and for the record, wrath would 100% killed berthold on riza’s behalf if he hadn’t already been dead)

and then i dithered on how to finish this (and indeed whether to finish it at all, i was tempted to throw hands after the second to third sections) but then my three brain cells summarily went GIVE RIZA HAWKEYE AGENCY GIVE IT BACK TO HER and fuck yeah i agreed. so here we are. in this verse roy never asks her the whole “guard my back but also shoot me if i go wrong” thing, because it’d just be… utterly ridiculous, in context, and also it’s possible that riza ends up leaving the military entirely or goes to support olivier for fuhrer instead. wrath would certainly appreciate the hell outta that

anyway this is a mess and probably the most ooc riza i have ever written but i hope y’all enjoyed it anyway

title notes: aqua regia aka regal water, a nitric/hydrochloric acide mixture so named by alchemists for dissolving noble metals like gold + a bit cribbed straight off robert frost

[anythingandeverything1d]

Kicks and Catch Ups

Chapter 1: Congratulations Chapter 2: I’m having your baby Chapter 3: Plum Sized

It had been a few months since Harry moved in, and well things were not as great as the idea had originally seemed. You loved Harry, but he was being difficult to work with on a lot of levels. One being Luke. Harry and Luke did not get along in any kind of way. Harry thought Luke was trying to take his place and make moves on you. You were laying in bed while Harry was downstairs writing and your brain was thinking about the fight that had occurred a few weeks ago.

* “Harry I’m going out to lunch with Luke and then we were going to go look at some baby stuff. I should be home later okay?”

“Whatever.” Harry sighed rolling his eyes. You groaned and walked over to him.

“Harry, remember when we agreed to talk things out not hold them in? You need to tell me if somethings bothering you...”

“You want to know what's bothering me? How about the fact that you are trying to hold onto this-this fling or whatever the two of you had while I was gone. You go out with him all the time and he's coming to all our appointments and now he's taking you shopping for OUR baby? If you want him, have him but I’m out.”

You sat on his lap and held his cheeks in your hand. “Haz the only one I want is you. Luke is just my FRIEND. That’s it. He's going to be like an uncle to the baby and I want him to feel involved in everything. There is absolutely nothing going on with Luke and I. I promise.” You kissed his lips softly but he wasnt having it. Luke happened to walk in that moment as well.

“Hey beautiful ready to go?”

Harry shot him a wicked glance and pushed you off his lap, standing to walk over to Luke. You ran up behind him and pulled him back. “Harry. Harry look at me.” He slowly turned and you reached your hands around his neck and kissed him softly. “I love you.” you whispered. 

Harry sighed and kissed your cheek. He then grabbed your coat and helped you into it. Looking at Luke he threatened, “Make a move and I will destroy you.” You smacked his arm in response. He dramatically kissed you again before whispering “I love you” back. “Take care of my girl.”

“I always do.” Luke smirked and held out his hand. You were annoyed with everything happening here so you brushed past it and walked to the car. In the car Luke decided to play it up. “Why are you even with him. He’s a fucking asshole. He’s just going to leave you when the baby gets here, go back on tour, fuck another random bitch at a bar and leave you AND your baby here and heartbroken. I mean seriously (y/n) how stupid are you with letting him back in like this. He’s a possessive and manipulative dick.” You looked over at him with tears in your eyes. He knew he had over stepped but said nothing. 

“Let me out of the car.”

“What? No. That’s ridiculous.”

“Luke let me out now.” 

“(y/n) I’m not going to just let you out of the car.”

“Stop and unlock the door. I want out now.”

“Youre being dramatic-”

“LET ME OUT.” you were crying now and Luke saw that the argument was over. He pulled over to the sidewalk and you jumped out. “Don't call me until youre ready to apologize.” You slammed the door shut and started the walk back home. It was chilly that day so you had called Harry, who had immediately come to pick you up. You cried in his arms about everything Luke had said and how you were afraid he was going to leave you and the baby. 

“I’m not going anywhere. If I go on tour, you and the baby will come too. We can make this work love I promise.” *

You shook your head and cleared the thoughts. Luke hadn't come over or called since. Harry had been a little better since then, more supportive, a little less jealous, and overall more like the Harry you had originally fallen in love with. When Harry moved in the two of you had agreed not to date or make something of the situation. You wanted to feel everything out, work on the problems that you had before and see where you were at. You still weren't dating or ready to be dating, but you were in a much better place. Besides the arguing- but being stuck together for long periods of time would do that to you. Harry was currently writing and working on his second album which meant that he was working all the time. He would spend hours upon hours in meetings with other writers. You loved that he was doing what he loved but you also wished he would be a little more present in the baby preparations. Helping with the nursery, purchasing clothes, all of that. 

The one person who had been way more supportive was Anne, Harry’s mom. She was even throwing you a baby shower this weekend with the help of Gemma, his sister. You were excited, you just wished Harry was too. You climbed out of bed and wandered downstairs. Harry looked up and smiled as you approached. He grabbed your hand and pulled you onto his lap. “Want to hear what I’ve been working on?” You nodded and smiled. He held up the page of lyrics and began singing. “I’m in my bed, and youre not here, and theres no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands, forget what I said, Its not what I meant, And I cant take it back, I cant unpack the baggage you left, What am I now? What am I now? What if I’m someone I don't want around? I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling, What if I’m down? What if I’m out? What if I’m someone you won't talk about? I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling” He looked at you and wiped a tear from your eye.

“That’s beautiful H”

“It’s how I felt...you know...after we broke up. I regretted everything...I wanted to make it up to you but I didnt know how. I guess this little one is to thank for bringing you back into my life.” You were crying harder now. Harry hadn't really expressed any emotions like this in a while especially about him leaving. “Don't cry (y/n)...I’m sorry. I shouldn't have-”

“No.” you wiped your eyes and smiled. “I’m glad you are talking about it.” You kissed him. “I’m really glad youre back in my life Harry. I really missed you.” You laughed and wiped his tears.

“Now you’ve got me crying.” He laughed and kissed you. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed making him jump a little. “Harry its happening!” You grabbed his hand and positioned it on your stomach where you had just felt a kick. The baby had been very active lately but Harry always seemed to miss the kicks. He still hadn't felt one. You moved his hand around. “Come on little one...” You watched Harry’s face as the baby kicked. His mouth dropped open, a smile formed, dimples and everything. He was crying harder now too. You laughed, “That was a good one.”

“I think that was a futbol kick” He laughed. You wiped his tears and touched your nose to his with a smile. “God, this little one is going crazy right now.” Harry was in awe. He kept touching your belly and talking to it. 

“I think our little one likes your singing..” 

He smiled and started singing, “Lately I found myself thinking, been dreaming about you a lot, and up in my head im your boyfriend, but thats one thing you've already got” He smiled at you. “Come on (y/n), I know you know the lyrics.”

“He drives to school every morning, while I walk alone in the rain, he’d kill me without any warning, if he took a look in my brain.”

Harry chimed in, “Would he say he's in L-O-V-E? Well if it was me then I would, I would, Would he hold you when youre feeling low? Baby you should know that I would, I would.” You laughed as the baby did another big kick. This is exactly what you had imagined being pregnant with Harry would be like. Someone knocked at the door and you jumped up to get it. 

“Hey” Luke was standing at the door with a shy smile and a bouquet of flowers. 

“Hey.” You said back.

“Can we talk?” You nodded and let him in where he followed you to the kitchen. Harry rolled his eyes and got up to leave. “No, Harry wait. I wanted to talk to both of you.”

You sat down next to Harry and Luke sat across from you. You all just stared at each other for a few minutes before Luke sighed. “I’m sorry. My behavior was embarrassing and out of control. (y/n) what I said to you...I’m so sorry. I never should have done that and Harry? Man I’m sorry I didnt give you another chance when you came back. Look okay, (y/n) youre my best friend, like my little sister. I didnt want to see you hurt the way you were when he left the first time.” He looked at Harry and shook his head. “Harry you don't deserve her. She's the purest, kindest, and best person I know. But youre still here, youre still trying and I respect that. I hope you work everyday to try to deserve her.”

Harry nodded. “I don't deserve her. Youre right there. She's incredible and the things I’ve done...” you squeezed his hand gently. “Ive been working on making myself better for her. I don't want to hurt her or the baby ever again. I respect you caring for her, for looking out for her, and for being there when I wasnt. But I am back now so I just feel like you were trying to out do me when I was already trying so hard.”

Luke nodded, “I’m sorry man, I overstepped. It won't happen again.” He looked back to you. “(y/n) I overstepped our friendship boundaries and Im sorry. I shouldn't have done that.” 

“Its okay...I know you were trying to help..”

“I was but I said some things that never should have been said. I don't know anything about the two of yours relationship and I’m not sure I really want to” He laughed and smiled at you, “But I really really miss you. Can we fix things?”

You got up and hugged him tightly. “I missed you too.” Luke smiled and held out his hand to Harry.

“Truce?”

Harry nodded and shook the hand. “You should stay for dinner, I’m sure theres a lot to catch up on.” 

Luke smiled and nodded. “Is that the latest picture?” He looked at the fridge where the ultrasound pictures were hanging. 

“Yeah thats from yesterday.” You said walking over. “Finally entering my third trimester..”

“Thats so crazy...it looks like an actual baby now. Is it? Did you find out the gender?”

Harry walked over and shook his head, “We decided to wait..Im pretty sure its a girl though.” Luke laughed.

“What do you think?” 

“I think its a boy.”

“So you both think its something else. Who's gonna be upset when they are wrong?” He asked laughing.

“Harry.” You wrapped an arm around his waist and smiled.

“Probably me.” He agreed. “Ive always wanted a girl. Plus I just think a mini (y/n) would be adorable.”

“It would for sure. I think its a girl too but only because I know (y/n) wants a boy.”  Luke said laughing. You rolled your eyes and smiled. This is how things should've been the whole time.

“So I’m starving...what’s for dinner?”

“What do you want?” Harry asked.

“Yeah youre the pregnant one. What sounds good today?”

“Well honestly pickles and peanut butter sound really good.”

Harry gagged and Luke laughed. “That sounds absolutely disgusting.”

“If thats what you want babe...” Luke shot Harry a surprised glance.

“No..thats not fair to the two of you...how about pizza?”

Relief flooded both of their faces and they nodded. “I’ll order.” Harry said grabbing his phone and leaving you and Luke alone in the kitchen.

“So how have you been?” he asked.

“Good. I mean I’ve been really tired a lot but I also haven't been sleeping well so thats probably part of the problem. I just cant get comfy at night and when I try to sleep the baby gets all active and awake.”

“Well thats no fun. How have things with Harry been?”

You sighed sitting down and rubbing your belly. “We have really good days and some bad days. Things have gotten a lot better lately and today was kind of perfect. I think he's settling back into the idea of everything.”

“Are you and him....you know..a thing..or dating..or what's going on there.”

You bit your lip, “I don't know exactly... I mean I want to be more but we originally agreed just to see what happened..but now? I just feel like I know Harry’s the one. I know I’ll never love a guy the way I love him. And I want things to work with us and the baby. I want us to be a family. I just don't know where he stands.”

“Have you asked him?”

“No...I just don't want to ruin what we have already.” You decided you didnt want to talk anymore about this so you changed the subject. “How’s the girl you've been going out with?”

“She's good. Yeah, I really like her. You’ll have to meet her sometime.”

You smiled. “I’d love that. We could double date. That could be fun!”

“Maybe.” He laughed shaking his head. “That might be a little weird.”

“Why?”

“Because one, youre pregnant and two your dating Harry Styles, and three your pregnant with his baby. That’s a lot for any normal person to take in.” he laughed.

“I think we should go for it.” 

“We’ll see.”

Harry walked back in with a smile on his face. He kissed your head and sat in the chair next to you. “What are you two laughing at?”

“I want us to double date with Luke’s new girlfriend.”

“Oh that would be fun.” Harry nodded. 

“I don't know.” Luke said laughing more.

“The pizza will be here shortly. Luke if you want to call and invite her over..”

“No-No thats okay..”

“No, Luke invite her! She's probably upset you cant hang out tonight because youre here..”

“Eh..I mean are you guys sure?”

You and Harry nodded. “Go for it.”

You smiled and clapped your hands together. “Yay! Its been so long since we've done anything like this!” Harry smiled and nodded looking down. 

“I should probably put on clothes.”

Luke nodded and you laughed, “I don't know H, you look pretty hot to me.” You wiggled your eyes and kissed you while laughing. 

“How hot?”

“Okay gross.” Luke chimed in breaking up the moment. “Aren't you pregnant and like not supposed to get all like that?”

“You mean horny?” Harry asked laughing. “I mean if anything (y/n) has been way more interested lately than before. Our sex life is kind of killing it right now.”

Luke shuddered and you laughed as he looked you up and down. “How exactly does that work with the...with the belly and the baby?”

“Oh trust me Lucas, its a lot hotter than youre imagining.” Harry laughed as he walked upstairs to put on a shirt.

Luke was still grossed out by it but picked up the phone and read the text he got. “She's going to come..”

“Yay! I’m excited!” you groaned. “Ugh this baby definitely makes things interesting.”

“You good?” Luke asked concerned.

“Yeah, sometimes it just kicks against my bladder and you know.”

“Know what?” he asked confused.

“Sometimes I just pee a little.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“Thats disgusting. Okay please don't bring up youre baby sex life and pee problems to Maddie.”

You laughed. “Oh the baby is kicking again want to feel?”

He nodded so you grabbed his hand and placed it where the baby was kicking. He felt it and jumped back. You laughed. Harry’s reaction was adorable, exactly what you had expected him to act like. Luke’s was not. Luke seemed a little grossed out by the baby kicking. He said he was good when you asked if he wanted to feel again which only made you laugh harder. A knock at the door broke the laughing and Harry who was already walking down the stairs answered it. 

“Hey.” He said with a smile. The girl looked a little taken back and you walked forward.

“You must be Maddie?”

“Yeah..” She was still looking at Harry surprised.

“Luke’s inside, come on in. I’m (y/n).” she shook your hand with a smile and looked down at your belly but didnt say anything. “This is Harry.” Harry smiled and waved hi before leading her into the kitchen to where Luke was waiting. 

“Mads Hey!” He walked over and gave her a hug. “Sorry I assumed it was the pizza or I would've answered the door. Well I guess you've met (y/n) and Harry?”

“Yeah.” she smiled at him. She was probably thinking why he didnt warn her Harry Style was going to be there as well. “Its nice to meet you.” 

“The pizza!” Harry shouted running to the door when someone knocked. A few minutes later he came back carrying a few boxes of pizza and breadsticks. “Dig in everyone.”

Harry made you a plate with 4 huge pieces of pizza and you laughed. “Haz, I don't need that much..”

“The baby needs to eat...shes going to be a futbul star remember?”

You just laughed and took a bite. Dinner flew by, you and Harry were asking Luke and Maddie all kinds of questions about their relationship. You liked Maddie, she would keep Luke in his place and challenge him a bit which is what he needed. After dinner they excused themselves and left. Luke hugged you tightly whispering goodbye to the baby and then shook Harry’s hand. Maddie waved goodbye. You and Harry were left. You hugged him tightly and smiled.

“What?” He asked looking down at you, his green eyes sparkling.

“I’m just happy.” you answered. “I’m happy with our relationship...I’m happy that Luke is back. All of it.”

“Im happy too.” Harry kissed your nose and smiled. “Luke may not be that bad after all.”

---

Kind of a short chapter, but I hope you enjoy! Stay tuned for the next one!