#we deserved to see a happy uninterrupted morning after

[amc-minx]

Besides loving what CBL and SG said in the article, I also wanted a clearer close-up photo. 🤷🏻‍♀️ You’re welcome. 😁

Bianca and Marissa Get it On - SOD Article

Bianca is thrown - in a good way- when her new girlfriend, Marissa, tells her that she wants to spend the night. “She’s totally caught off guard by Marissa’s self-assuredness,” shares Christina Bennett Lind (Bianca). “Bianca is surprised that Marissa is so ready for it, so quickly. More than anything, she wants to make sure that Marissa is okay with it every step of the way.”

Marissa is not the first former heterosexual to fall into bed with Bianca, noted Lind. “Bianca’s not unfamiliar with people who aren’t sure, and Marissa is anything but not sure. It’s happening so fast and she is totally on board. I think it takes a really strong person to come out and see themselves differently, so quickly. I think Bianca really respects her.”

Sarah Glendening (Marissa) says, “I think Marissa is the kind of person who, once she makes a decision, she’s all in. And she absolutely made the decision to be with Bianca. So, for her, it’s only logical that they would take it to the next level.” Echoes Lind, “It’s a natural progression of a relationship, which is what I love about it. It’s very real.”

Lind is delighted that fans have cottoned to the Bianca/Marissa pairing. “It’s so positive,” she says of the reaction she’s received. “It’s been amazing. I don’t know what I was expecting, but what Sarah and I were really hoping to do when we started this is just be as real, as human, as we could be. It’s most exciting to me that the fans seem to be picking up on that part of this. I appreciate them noticing that, because we worked hard on that.”

After the ladies’ passion-filled evening, Marissa assures Bianca that she’s happy about what transpired. But the week is not without its turmoil; with JR’s drinking still an issue, he and Marissa resume their battle for custody of AJ.

[kasienda]

Aftermath - Ch 7: Deserving Good Things

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

Read on Ao3

Chapter 7: Deserving Good Things

The weather could not be more perfect. The grass was a luscious green, and the sky an uninterrupted expanse of blue. Nora, Ella, and Etta had spent the last two hours painstakingly following every one of Marinette’s instructions to the letter. The reception area was now a garden of color made up of table runners, paper origami birds, and crystal vases filled with long stemmed fire lilies. They were now in the process of tying orange and yellow flowers to every chair along the aisle and to the arch where Alya and Nino would exchange their vows.

“Marinette! You need to go get dressed,” Nora told her. “I promise you we’ll finish this.” 

Marinette shook her head. “We still need to check the centerpieces and the decorations at the entrance since those flowers arrived so late.”

At least the majority of flowers had arrived on time, and thank goodness Adrien had noticed they were missing a whole three sets of bulk bouquets when they started sorting them out. 

“Adrien’s already on it.”

Marinette pressed her lips together, itching to go check on it herself. Adrien knew how she wanted everything set up. He had an amazing eye for detail if not for design, but he already knew the design. She had spent hours showing him prototype after prototype. 

“I should go check in with my parents then to make sure the crepes are coming along,” she said. 

Nora glared at her. “One, your parents have catered so many events by themselves and don’t need your help. And two, Noël is already helping them.”

Marinette opened her mouth to object, but her tongue failed her. She couldn’t explain why she felt so anxious - that she couldn’t just leave before everything was just right. This was Alya’s big day! Marinette needed everything to be perfect.

“Go!” Nora roared. 

Faced with Nora towering over her angrily, Marinette went, but she didn’t see what the big deal was. She didn’t need a lot of time to get ready. Her hair was already up in intricate braids with a red ribbon weaving through her Chat Noir inspired green locks. Curls framed either side of her face and sparkling red earrings dangled from each of her ears. She just needed to throw on her dress. The only reason she hadn’t already done so with the other bridesmaids was she hadn’t wanted to spill something on the lovely black cocktail dress in a storm of clumsiness during setup. She needn’t have worried. Everything had gone smoothly that morning, but Marinette couldn’t shake the nervous buzzing on her skin. 

She needed to be adjusting ribbons or decorating cookies, or just something, anything to be useful. 

She found Alya in the park’s recreation center still in a button up blouse and jeans, adding a layer of orange glitter to the henna patterns on her feet. Marinette wished that she could have helped with the designs on Alya’s dominant hand. She loved the floral pattern with vines that Alya had chosen, and knew that in years past she could have added a layer of intricacy to it that Alya would have loved. 

But the designs that were there looked amazing. Nino would love it. 

Maybe Alya didn’t actually need her help. 

Which is why she should have still been out in the reception area, fixing up last minute details where she could make a difference. She needed to earn her keep somehow.

She turned to leave to go do just that when Alya’s head shot up.  

“There you are! I’ve been asking for you for like an hour!”

“I’m sorry! I was just trying to make everything perfect.” 

Alya smiled. “I keep telling you it doesn’t need to be perfect.”

Marinette glanced away. Maybe it didn’t need to be, but Marinette wanted it to be. Alya deserved the fairytale wedding and happy ending. And it wasn’t like Marinette was ever going to get to plan her own wedding, so she was going to pour her soul into Alya’s.

“It looks lovely. The glitter is the perfect touch,” Marinette said. 

Alya beamed, holding out each of her hands to admire them herself. “Thank you! It’s really fun. I think I might want to do it again more regularly.” 

Marinette smiled. Nino would love that as well. “What did you need?” she asked.

Alya smiled, and gestured for her to come sit next to her. Marinette complied. Alya took Marinette’s bad hand in her own, and gently cleaned the back of her palm. 

“Apparently, as one of the bride’s closest female friends, I was supposed to give you a henna pattern yesterday as well.” 

“But there won’t be time for it to stain if you do it now.” 

Alya smirked. “I guess you’ll just have to leave the henna on for the whole ceremony then.” She began tracing out dark spiral vine patterns on Marinette’s hand. The ink almost had the consistency of puff paint.

Marinette opened her mouth to object. With the henna on, she would have to be careful about touching anything, making her even more useless than normal.

“Or even just a few hours!” Alya compromised before Marinette could argue. 

Marinette forced herself to relax. Alya was supposed to get her way today. And it felt good for her hand to be handled with Alya’s gentle touch. The pattern she traced out was so pretty, and reminiscent of the floral pattern Marinette used to add to everything with one noticeable difference.

“Did you add thorns?” 

Alya smiled. “You’ve grown a bit prickly of late.” 

Marinette laughed. She supposed that was true and Alya still loved her anyway. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” 

“Of course! I don’t need anything by the way,” Alya told her, continuing to work. “I just wanted to see you, and to say thank you. My dress is stunningly gorgeous–” 

“Adrien knew the designer.”

“–and I know this whole day is going to be filled with little surprises. And it wouldn’t have happened without you.” 

“I didn’t do much. Adrien–”

Alya took hold of both her hands. “Stop. I know Adrien helped a ton and I will be thanking him, too. But more than anything about today, you introduced me to Nino. You were the one who saw him for who he was when he first lied about having a crush on me. You’re the one who made me really see him and appreciate him. And that means you’re the most important person in our story. We started with you.” 

Marinette’s eyes burned and she had to glance away. She couldn’t put into words what Alya meant to her, how grateful she was that Alya had remained steadfast by her side even when Marinette wasn’t honest or reliable, even when she could barely take care of herself. Her small part in introducing Alya and Nino was nothing in comparison to all that. Especially because Alya and Nino would have met anyway. They had all been in the same class and they were so well suited to each other. Marinette truly believed that even if she hadn’t been excited to put in a good word for Nino to Alya after hearing about his supposed crush, that even if Ladybug hadn’t locked them in a cage together, they would have eventually found their way to one another anyway.

“What is it?” Alya asked, her brows furrowed in concern.

Marinette made herself smile. Alya shouldn’t be spending any energy worrying about her, especially today. “I’m just so happy. So happy that you and Nino get to have this, and each other. There is no one else who deserves a happy ending more than the two of you.” 

“Aww! Girl!” Alya pulled her into a hug. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Marinette mumbled into Alya’s shoulder before pulling back glancing at her painted hand. “If you’re finished, let’s get you ready! I’m so excited to see the look on Nino’s face when he sees you in this dress!”

…

Marinette walked down the grass aisle littered with red, orange, and yellow flower petals. She was surrounded by Alya’s and Nino’s extended families on either side. Their families were huge, overwhelmingly so. Which she had known. She had sent out the wedding invitations and made the seating charts herself. But the reality of that many eyes on her made cold seep into her chest and her eyes turn to the floor. She wondered how many of them recognized her for the imposter that she was.

A piercing whistle from the raised dais made her look up from her feet once again. Adrien was there, at Nino’s right-hand side, his fingers still in his mouth with a proud smile. He didn’t look nervous at all. He stood confident in a deep black suit with his hair - still dyed red with black tips - done up in spikes that made him personify the fire theme better than anyone with the notable exception of Alya.

She smiled back at him with pride. Here he was positively glowing in excitement and confidence in front of all these people, most of whom he had never met. He wasn’t hiding. If anything, he was on display in a way he hadn’t been in years, in a way that had terrified him just weeks before, and he was smiling at her.

It was suddenly easy to keep her chin up. They were in this together, and had promised they would support each other through every moment to make today perfect for Alya and Nino. 

Today had to be perfect. 

She stepped up onto the raised platform alongside Alya’s sisters and opposite Nino, Adrien, Noël, and the minister performing the ceremony. Her eyes automatically swept across Nino’s accessories, checking for anything amiss. But everything was in place from his gold cufflinks to the deep orange - almost red - tie that would match the flames in Alya’s dress perfectly. She needn’t have worried. Adrien was well experienced in paying attention to the details when it came to wardrobe. 

Nino tossed her a wink, his grin was so big Marinette worried his face might split open. 

She returned the expression. He and Alya complemented each other so well, and they would be amazing together for a really long time.

The music shifted into a happy little melody played on the unusual pairing of a string quartet and an electric guitar.

Nino threw a startled glance at Adrien. “Mec! How did you know?!”

Marinette grinned in satisfaction.

“It wouldn’t have been nearly as hard if you had just told me,” Adrien griped in a stage whisper.

But his words were lost on Nino, who totally only had eyes for Alya who had just appeared at the end of the path.

Then she was moving. She was not a demure bride who took each step slowly and stately. She strode forward with purpose, like she couldn’t get down the aisle fast enough. Her dress fluttered around her in waves of orange and white like a flickering flame. Alya didn’t so much as glance at her family, friends, or her bridesmaids. Nino alone held her attention.

Their hands reached for each other and interlaced the instant they could, their smiles jubilant as they got lost in each other’s eyes.

The minister began the ceremony, but his words about love and marriage faded away almost immediately when competing against the living breathing example that stood before all of them now. There was so much care just in the way Alya and Nino held each other’s hands, tangled and interwoven together like the threads of a plain weave fabric, let alone the way they were completely lost in each other’s gaze, grinning like children released in a candy shop. 

But once Nino was the one talking, Marinette couldn’t help but hang on his every word. 

“Alya, the first day we spoke to each other, you were talking so fast, and you were loud and insistent, and oh my god, I was absolutely terrified.” 

Laughter rolled through the assembled guests. 

“And I wasn’t exactly wrong to be scared. Because of you, I have seen waaaay too many akumas up close and personal, definitely far more than I ever needed to. I have been inside buildings that were off limits to the public in the pursuit of a story. And I’ve been involved in more convoluted match-making schemes than I ever would have imagined. These are not things I would have done on my own because before I met you, I never thought of myself as a brave person–”

Marinette swallowed. She had never thought of herself as a brave person either. It had been Chat Noir who personified bravery to her, his example that she always tried to live up to. 

“–I was chill. I went with the flow. I certainly never fought for anything. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to try. But you are confident and passionate, and you care. You are never one to just sit by and let things happen to you or around you. And being around you, made me want to act, to fight for what’s right, and what’s fair. You make me truer to the man I want to be. You inspire me to be that man every day. And I’m the luckiest guy in the world to be able to call you partner.”

Alya leaned forward like she was going to kiss him, but stopped herself at the last moment - a moment of frustration flashing over her face. He waggled his eyebrows at her even as he laughed.

“Laugh at me now, Nino Lahiffe, but you’ll soon understand my pain.” She slipped a hand into her dress pocket and pulled out a little scroll. Marinette had insisted Alya have the benefits of pockets even in her wedding dress. Alya let it unfurl and it fell all the way to the ground with a dramatic thunk. 

Nino groaned even as the guests laughed once again. 

Alya looked at him seriously.

“Nino, I have to be honest. You are absolutely not the type of person I ever thought I would go for.”

His laugh was the loudest and most distinct of everyone’s. 

“You were so self conscious,” she continued, “and awkward even in the way you ducked your head. I felt awkward just looking at you! But after my best friend promised to talk you up to me, and a superhero locked us in a cage together, I was forced to spend time with you, and thank god for that! Because with you, I have felt heard in a way I never have before. I rant and I go on and on and you always listen. You have never been intimidated by me being loud or throwing myself into things. You have always been there, throwing yourself into it, too.”

His smile softened. 

“I wasn’t used to it - having someone to rely on. And being able to lean on you has been life changing for me. You are one of the most solid, reliable people I have ever met. You are my anchor. You keep me grounded. You make me slow down - sometimes to rest, other times to think - and I am better for it.”

Marinette’s eyes burned. She had a partner like that once, an anchor who made her think, a hand that pulled her up whenever she fell, and someone who held her accountable to living up to her own ideals. She hadn’t realized how precious and how rare that was.

She wished she had realized if only so she could have told him. 

“You make me feel special and important. I don’t know how I would do anything that I do without you at my back,” Alya was saying. “You’ve seen me at my worst and instead of checking out you challenge me to be better. And I know that if I ever need you, you will always step up.”

Nino surged forward at that point and kissed her. He definitely wasn’t supposed to just yet, but everyone cheered and whooped anyway. 

He pulled away and she shook her head at him, smiling indulgently.

“Just putting an end to your torture,” he replied cheekily.

She laughed. 

The rest of the ceremony passed by in a literal blur of tears. When their lips met again as man and wife and cheers erupted around them for a second time, Marinette had to look away. 

She didn’t understand why. She was so happy for them. They deserved this. They deserved this more than anyone. 

But she grieved too, craving a moment like theirs.

Her gaze fell into Adrien’s open face. He was looking right at her with a smile that made her forget how to breathe. Her stomach flipped like she was in college all over again. There was something in his eyes that felt significant - like something had shifted. Some part of her desperately wanted whatever it was. 

But her gut also clenched tightly. She couldn’t have it. She didn’t deserve it. 

And hoping otherwise was dangerous. 

She retreated from his eyes, locking her attention on the newly married couple instead, who turned to the assembled guests before making their way back down the aisle. 

Even when Adrien’s hand looped through her elbow before they followed behind Alya and Nino, she didn’t risk a glance in his direction. 

Pictures were next, and Marinette had a thousand details to focus on in making sure the flowers and accessories were just right. And luckily Adrien was such a pro at pictures, he didn’t need any direction. Not the way Nino did. Which meant she could spend most of her time directing and talking to Nino instead of Adrien. 

What was wrong with her? Why was she avoiding him? 

Adrien didn’t deserve this.  

“You’re really good at this,” the photographer commented after she had adjusted and posed all of Alya’s sisters and cousins just right. “I’m not used to having such a refined eye in the wedding party.” 

Heat surged in her cheeks. “Thank you!”

He pointed his chin towards the party. “It’s your turn. I need you in this one.” 

“Right! Of course!”

Once again, she found herself in Adrien’s hold with her heart in her throat and her legs buzzing with the desire to bolt in the complete opposite direction.

After pictures, Alya and Nino parted to head to their respective dressing rooms for outfit changes. With Adrien out of sight, she could finally breathe more easily. 

“Alya!” Nora exclaimed when they all made it back to the dressing room. “Look at you! A married woman, all grown up!” 

“Getting married is not the milestone that makes me grown up!” Alya objected. 

Ella and Etta seized her in hugs a second later. “Congratulations! You look so happy!” 

“I am happy.” 

“I’m so jealous that you get to wear multiple dresses!” Etta was saying as they helped Alya change from her fire dress to a satin green takshita accented in gold lace. 

Nino would be changing too into the ceremonial jabador. He had chosen something in orange.

Adrien had commented that they didn’t match, but Marinette had recognized the color palette for what it was - they were wearing each other’s superhero colors.

“We can unify the outfits in the accents and the lace,” she had insisted and if she had asked the seamstress to embroider the words fox and turtle onto their outfits in Arabic, it was in the lining where not even Alya and Nino would notice. 

Alya was soon decked out in Carapace’s colors still glowing from the ceremony, and they loaded her up onto an amaria, a small palanquin covered in cream colored velvet. 

Alya’s father, Noel, Adrien, and Nora - who was not going to be left out from the privilege just because she was female - were there within moments to hoist her up onto their shoulders to be the queen above all her guests.

Marinette, Ella, and Etta followed behind as Alya was carried into the reception hall, greeted by applause, cheers, music, and whistles! She was paraded around the whole hall, waving and smiling before she was finally delivered to Nino’s side who waited for her on an ornate couch. The thing was beaded! Marinette didn’t even want to think about the hours that had to have gone into creating such a beautiful piece of art.

Marinette and Adrien were amongst the first to offer congratulations to the married couple, bringing almond milk and dates for all four of them to share.

Once tradition had been satisfied, and hugs and kisses were exchanged, Marinette left the other three behind, and dove back into solving problems. She corrected an error in the seating chart that separated a mom from her children, helped Etta go to the bathroom in her big poofy flower girl dress, checked in with guests as they waited for food, sent up kids under ten or so to the buffet before anyone else was called. Once the buffet line had fully formed, Marinette joined her parents on the other side of the table to help them serve and lent a hand to her parents as they served crepes to order. 

“Marinette, we’re fine here,” Sabine told her. “You’ve been working so hard for weeks! Go dance! Please!” 

Marinette shook her head. “I need to make sure everything is perfect for Alya.” 

“I’m sure Alya wants you to actually celebrate her wedding.”

”I am celebrating, maman! By making sure everything is perfect!”

Her maman just shook her head in exasperation. 

She was distantly aware of Adrien’s voice calling for all single ladies over the sound system, but as the other half of the wedding planning team, that didn’t apply to her. And it didn’t matter because she wasn’t ever going to get married. The bouquet didn’t need to be wasted on the likes of her. Let it go to one of Alya’s sisters or cousins. 

… 

The reception continued well into the night. Even at two in the morning, Nino’s and Alya’s families hadn’t slowed down at all. People sat clumped at the reception tables laughing and telling stories over ka’ab ghazal cookies and ghriba cakes with their tea and coffee. Young children napped on a pile of giant pillows set up in the corner, seemingly undisturbed by the party going on around them, while the older children continued to chase each other around the tables. Dozens of people continued dancing, including Alya and Nino who were sending each other into dips and giggle fits constantly. 

“I never realized wedding receptions could be such a marathon.” 

Marinette jumped out of her skin at Adrien’s familiar voice at her shoulder. Her hand clutched at her chest. 

He laughed. “I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you. You okay?” 

She nodded, but her heart was still pounding like she was an animal running from its prey, and not a girl standing next to her very best friend. 

“Nino’s family’s endurance puts so many fashion galas absolutely to shame,” he continued.

“That’s not even accounting for the fact that Morrocan weddings are usually seven days long,” she agreed, still trying to catch her breath. “We’ll have to send all of society’s fashion elite to a boot camp training.” 

“I imagine the difference is actually that everyone is excited and happy to be here.” 

“The power of true celebration,” Marinette said. 

A grin lit up his face, and she once again found herself glancing away. “To that end, I was wondering if I could finally steal you for a dance before we fall asleep standing up?” He held out a hand. 

She didn’t take it. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. 

She didn’t deserve him. 

“I can’t. My parents are taking a nap break. There’s no one left to man the station.” She gestured to the crepe batter sitting in a large bowl, adjacent to a stainless steel flat cooking surface that was emanating heat. 

She expected him to object, to point out that the demand for crepes had slowed down to almost nothing, that there was other food to be enjoyed. 

But he didn’t say any of that. He just nodded, a patient smile dancing across his face.

“As long as I’m first on your dance card.” 

She grinned. “Absolutely.” 

But an hour later it was Alya that dragged her to the dance floor. 

“Wouldn’t you rather dance with Nino?” Marinette objected. 

Alya laughed, taking the opportunity to send Marinette into a spin. “One, I have been dancing with Nino. Two, I’m at this party with all my favorite people in the whole world. I want to see them! I will be spending the next six weeks with Nino on an excessively long honeymoon.”

Marinette grinned. Nino and Alya had been difficult to convince initially, but Adrien could give Chat Noir a run for his money in the pouting puppy dog act. She had no idea how he made it seem like they would be doing him a favor to go on an extended vacation, but he did, and they had eventually cracked. 

“You’re going to have such a good time,” Marinette gushed excitedly. “You have to send us all the pictures.” 

“You know we will, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“What’s up?” 

“I noticed you disappeared during my bouquet toss.” 

Marinette threw Alya into a dip. “I was just up to my elbows in making crepes.”

Alya whipped back up, immediately shaking her head. “You made sure you were up to your elbows in crepes to avoid it.” 

Marinette glanced down to their shoes. 

“Please stop worrying about me today,” she begged. “Today is supposed to be about you.” 

Alya laughed. “And it is! Did you see me carried in? People stuffing my face with dates? Nino and I dancing for hours?! I’m getting the absolute royal treatment. But that doesn’t mean it has to only be about me. There’s space for both of us.”

Marinette pressed her lips together.

“Don’t give me that look,” Alya said. “I’m not going to stop caring about you when big things are happening in my life. I will always make space for you. Always.”

She plucked a bright red flower from her hair and held it out to Marinette. Marinette took it with furrowed brows. 

“What’s this for?” 

Alya smiled. “I saved you a flower from my bouquet. You have worked so tirelessly for Adrien and then for us, so we all can be happy. I want to remind you that you deserve to find your happiness as well. And that doesn’t necessarily have to be falling in love and getting married or whatever. I just mean that you deserve good things, too.”

Marientte’s throat choked closed. She wanted to believe that. Sometimes, on an intellectual level, she even agreed. But she didn’t know how to get to a place where it felt true. 

Alya pulled her into a swing and Marinette stumbled, but Alya caught her and pulled her back in, giggling. 

“And if you don’t believe me, can you please just fake it for a while? Be nice to yourself and accept the good things that happen to you for at least this whole day? As a wedding present to me?” Alya begged. 

In spite of her feelings, which had been all over the place all day, Marinette found herself laughing, too. 

“It’s not like I’m miserable or anything!” she objected. “I’m so happy for you and Nino!” 

“Fine, but Adrien has been pouty. Apparently you declined a dance invitation–”

What? He was upset about that?

“–Can you at least dance with him once? As a personal favor to Nino and me?” 

Marinette laughed. It sounded fake even to her own ears. She didn’t even understand herself why she was avoiding Adrien. 

There was something in his eyes that was different. 

She didn’t deserve it. 

“Well, if you insist. I suppose I could spare a few minutes.”

“Great! C’mon! Let’s go find him!” Alya exclaimed, dragging her off the dance floor as forcefully as she had dragged Marinette onto it in the first place. 

Alya led Marinette unerringly through throngs of people. Marinette’s anxiety spiked as she realized Alya knew exactly where Adrien was and was taking her straight to him. It felt very planned and coordinated. 

They were approaching the door to Nino’s dressing room, and Marinette’s heart took off without her permission. She wasn’t ready. She tried to think of an excuse. Anything that was urgent and needed her attention, but she and Adrien had done their jobs too well. Everything was going smoothly. 

But Alya flipped back to her, beaming, and Marinette knew there was nothing she could say that Alya wouldn’t be able to see straight through anyway. 

When they entered the room, Nino sat with his back to them, Adrien opposite them. Adrien’s eyes landed on her and his lips stretched into the softest smile. Something in her chest squeezed. 

Why was she running from him? He was the best thing in her life. 

She didn’t deserve him. 

She glanced down at her hands. 

“Rent is paid through the next two months,” Nino was saying. “There’s two week’s worth of frozen meals in the freezer. And you have a subscription to a meal delivery plan.” 

He sounded like a worried mother leaving her child alone for the first time. 

“Nino, I’ll be fine,” Adrien interrupted. 

“I know. I know. I just… we’re going to be out of contact for six weeks.” 

Adrien smiled. “And you deserve that time. Don’t worry about me. If anything goes horribly I am an adult and I’m not alone. I have friends.” His eyes came back to her. “I have Marinette and her parents. They live in a bakery! We’re not going to starve.” 

“Marinette is barely better than you, dude.”

Marinette couldn’t bring herself to refute the statement. If anything she thought she was doing worse than Adrien. Far far worse. Really, he had come so far in so short a time, and she was the one who was stuck unmoving. 

Alya cleared her throat. Nino flipped around and offered her a stricken look. 

“N-no offense, dudette,” he stammered. 

Alya dropped down to the couch next to him, and his arm went around her without thought even as his guilty expression remained on Marinette.

Marinette shook her head and smiled. “No Nino. You’re right. It’s okay.” 

Adrien slid to the side to make space for Marinette, shaking his head in disagreement. “No! You’re both wrong.” He turned to her. “Mari! You’ve made huge strides. You all should see what she can do in the kitchen now! And we planned this whole wedding and reception together. Alya’s fire dress! Marinette designed that!”

“Dude! Stop! I just need to know you’re–”

Alya put a hand on his knee and he cut off, burying his head between his legs. 

“We,” Alya corrected, taking over, “just need to know you’re both gonna be okay while we’re gone.”

Adrien glanced at Marinette, arching a brow. And she just knew without totally knowing how she knew that he was asking for permission to speak for both of them. To reassure Alya and Nino that they were fine! And maybe they weren’t actually fine, but they could pretend really well, at least when they were together. 

She nodded enthusiastically, waving him forward. 

Adrien nodded acknowledgement at her before turning back to Alya and Nino.

“How long have they been able to do that?” Alya asked before Adrien could speak.

“Do what?” Nino asked. 

“Have entire conversations with their eyes!"

Nino shrugged. “They’ve always been able to do that.” 

Marinette rolled her eyes. It wasn’t that big a deal. Adrien held out his hand, and hers slipped into it without thought. 

“If I might interrupt?” Adrien asked. Nino and Alya both grinned and waved him forward. “We know that you both have been supporting us in the smallest and biggest of ways over the last year and change. That you literally kept both of us alive. But I’m doing much better now. Marinette is doing much better now.” She nodded enthusiastically. “You know this. You both deserve to take a break from the kids. Please go, and do not think of us at all while you’re gone.”

“Except to send us pictures,” Marinette cut in. 

“Yeah, what she said,” Adrien agreed, pointing to her with his free hand. 

Nino laughed. “Okay. Okay. Got it. You’re both great! You can’t blame me for worrying.” 

Marinette wished he didn’t have to. So she stood up, and pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you for worrying about us,” she said into his shoulder.

“I just love you both so much,” he murmured back.

Adrien and Alya both joined in on the hug. “We love you, too,” Adrien said. “Will you now get out of here and go start your honeymoon?” 

Alya laughed, shaking her head. “I was promised a party until dawn. I’ve been told it’s tradition,” she threw to Nino. 

He nodded firmly. “It is! A very important tradition.”

“So I’m staying until dawn. And we’re all missing some very important dancing!” she said, holding out her hands to Marinette and Adrien both. 

They accepted and let her lead them all back to the dance floor. They all danced together. But after the first song, they separated into pairs.

Adrien seemed only too happy to hold her close. His hands fit on her waist like they had been made just for her. He sent her into spins and dips, and she went wherever he led, giggling and laughing, her heart pounding, but for once in joy and exhilaration instead of anxiety. He was an amazing dancer and he would never let her fall. 

Being in his arms felt like coming home. 

“I have a confession to make,” Marinette told him when he pulled her close.

His eyebrows lifted. “Go on,” he invited, sending her into a dip. 

“I cheated on you,” she said when he lifted her back up. “I let Alya dance with me earlier.” 

He gasped in mock horror. “I am betrayed!” His expression quickly dissolved into a grin, and leaned in close to her ear. “You know what you could do to make it up to me?” 

She giggled. “What?” 

“Give me the next three songs.”

It was easy to agree. It felt too good to be held in his arms. It made her want things, things she still didn’t think she would ever have. She wasn’t sure whether anyone could truly love her. Even if they thought they did, they’d change their minds once they knew who she was, what she had done, how she had failed. 

Adrien especially would change his mind when he knew how she had single-handedly destroyed the last remnants of his family.

Chat Noir would have loved her still, she was certain. What would her life be like now if he hadn’t disappeared, if they had revealed after Hawmoth’s defeat like they had planned? Would he have visited her every day when she couldn’t have gotten out of bed, read to her, learned to make cheese plates and sourdough bread? Would he be here now, spinning her in circles in time with the music? 

She would have loved him. 

But Chat Noir wasn’t here. 

Adrien was. And it was so easy to get lost in his bright green eyes that still held the same spark of something she couldn’t label, or something she refused to label because she couldn’t let herself hope.

Not with Adrien.

And so she did what she always did. After the three dances, she pulled away and made herself busy. The wedding was finally dying down as the dawn hour approached, but that meant there were so many things to be done to clean up. Coats and purses to find and return, dishes to collect and rinse, and centerpieces to break down and sort into piles. Adrien was definitely at her side through all of it, but as long as they were working, she didn’t have to look at his face and see his eyes sparkling with so much feeling. 

Eventually, even Alya and Nino had departed with hugs and smiles, and it was just Alya’s sisters, Noёl, a few of Nino’s cousins, Adrien, and her cleaning things up. 

But Adrien was having too much fun flicking water at her or throwing confetti over her as she walked from table to table collecting table runners to be remotely helpful or productive. 

“Will you stop?” she whined, but in the face of his glee she was soon laughing. “We’re never going to get out of here at this rate!” 

“Maybe I don’t want this to be over,” he said, suddenly serious.

She threw him a startled glance. “What do you mean?” 

He shrugged, and she couldn’t read his expression. “I’m just going to miss this.”

“Wedding planning?” she asked, pulling herself back to collecting discarded disposable dishes into a trash bag.

“Yeah, working with you,” he agreed, pulling the tablecloth and starting to fold it once she had it cleared. “Getting to do things and create things with you.” 

“Like we weren’t spending all our time together before?” 

He laughed. “Fair.” 

But he was right. It was different. Before they weren’t doing anything other than existing side by side. 

“We don’t have to stop,” she commented. “Got any projects you need help with?” It was meant to be a joke. She knew that besides the bakery lessons and taking her to occupational therapy, he didn’t have much else going on. Certainly nothing worthy of the name project, except maybe her. 

But he didn’t laugh. He stepped in front of her, pulled her hand away from her task at hand, and guided her gaze towards his. And this time, when he was holding her hands and smiling at her in that way, she couldn’t look away. Her heart was definitely threatening to leap out of her chest, but she couldn’t run. Not with him looking at her like she was his entire world. She couldn’t do that to him. 

“Not a project, no. But I was wondering if you might want to go on a date with me?” 

She dropped the trash bag she was holding, and stared at him in shock. “L-Like a romantic date?” 

He brought his hand to his neck. “Yeah… a romantic date, I hope. Mari, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now.”

She had already known, she realized. That was why she had been avoiding him the whole day and night. 

She wanted him to get his happy ending. He deserved it more than anyone - well, maybe as much as Alya and Nino. 

Before today, she had never thought he’d want that with her. 

He wasn’t supposed to want that with her.

His smile somehow grew even wider. “But I didn't think it was fair to ask you for anything when I was barely human. But in planning this wedding with you, I feel like I could maybe take this step with you. If you're interested?"

The problem was she was interested. It was too easy to imagine her life slipping and intertwining with his. In so many ways, they were already interwoven together.

But she didn’t deserve him. She had destroyed his life. And she was broken. 

He knew that better than anyone.

Something in his face fell, and she hated it. “Don’t let me twist your arm,” he said. “I like to think I’ve improved a lot, but I know I’m still a mess. You probably know that better than anyone.”

She squeezed his hand. He couldn’t think for a moment that her hesitation had anything to do with him. 

She had watched him work so hard, face his fears over and over, watched him heal and grow, and learn to live his life again. 

There truly was no one else in the whole world she admired or looked up to as much as she looked up to him. She had never really given up her feelings for him, but when Ladybug had revealed his father to be Hawkmoth she had buried those feelings deep. 

But she couldn’t deny that she loved him. She had never stopped. 

She reached for the red flower in her hair.

I want to remind you that you deserve to find your happiness as well. And if you don’t believe me, can you please just be nice to yourself for at least this whole day?

She plucked it out, and handed it to him. 

The day wasn’t over yet. She had promised Alya.

“Adrien, I… yes.” She was smiling. She couldn’t not smile. She looked up to him, feeling shy. “Yes, I would love that.” 

And then he was grinning - so huge and so happy with something playful tugging at the corners. For a second, she didn’t see him. She saw Chat Noir’s boyish grin beaming at her through Adrien’s smile and her heart stopped. The moment passed and her throat lodged closed. She seized him in a hug so that he wouldn’t see her tears.

Chat Noir was gone. 

Adrien was here and she loved him. And more than that, she needed him. 

Even if part of her still didn’t believe she deserved it, she had to let herself have this.

[lostnruined]

What a crazy two and a half weeks with you.

I can't help but notice that every time I'm happy and content with you, something comes along and dampers it.

I keep wondering why I can't just be happy with you without something happening ... Then I remember... I don't deserve it.

The things I've done... I don't deserve happiness uninterrupted.

You didn't talk to me during lunch today. At first I thought it was because work was too busy. But you had time to send memories and then I saw a post on x...

Conclusion is...

You don't want to talk to me.

That's okay.

You asked me something this morning. What would you do if our situation was reversed when it came to insecurity regarding another female...

I decided not to answer you because every moment where you failed to reassure me, in that situation, entered my brain.

You called me merciless then tell me that you didn't say any of this to have to make me swallow it.

How you can know me and see me, everything I have done for you and think me merciless about your thoughts and feelings... Fuck.

And now I'm remembering that a week ago you called me heartless... I don't even have words right now for realizing that.

I'm going to take a hot shower and wish I had something to make me numb for a bit.

And if you ever read this... Any of this... Just because I have these thoughts and feelings doesn't mean I didn't hear you or understand you.

It's all a small part of the things I think of after we have a mess of any kind.

And it's an unfortunate thing ... You're in a place of sadness and depression and telling you any of this... All you'll hear is me making the things you've said about me.

Which isn't the case.

I know that even when I do come to you about things... You have your own mental and emotional responses and thoughts to them that are never shared with me.

[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.4

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else. 

Chapter Four: Hope Is A Heartache: A glimpse into your past with Spencer as you tour wedding venues together. A/N: chapter titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: mild cursing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, very angsty, jealousy, this series is a real slow burn babyyy

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A/N: you guys are incredible omg!! i’d love to reply to you all under each chapter but unfortunately this is not my main account but my messages are open so feel free to say hi!! i’m so happy you’re all enjoying the story so far, honestly lost for words! 

-

It was a cold day. Cold enough to make your atoms shiver. Dark grey clouds covered every inch of the sky above, hiding the winter sun. The air was brisk. It was harsh against your skin as you got out of the car. And the unwelcoming breeze that followed made you wish that you hadn't forgotten your scarf. 

“What a terrible miserable day.” You muttered while slamming your car door shut. You ambled your way around the hood as Spencer gently closed the passenger side door. You noticed immediately how he shivered slightly when the chilly air bushed against him. A sigh escaped your lips. 

“Honestly Spencer, I can reschedule. I’m sure you would much rather spend this dull day reading in the comfort of your own apartment rather than driving around touring venues with me.” 

“If you promise we stop for coffee before the next place, then I’m all good.” He replied, mouth twitching into an awkward half-smile. 

You smiled back at him. “I’ll get you all the coffee you want doctor.” 

“One is fine Y/N.” Spencer said, the smile on his face widening. “You know there are side effects to having too much caffeine. Anxiety, insomnia, and digestive issues to name a few.” 

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. “I’ll repeat that back to you next time we’re working a case and you’re on your fifth cup of coffee in the space of three hours.” 

Spencer chuckled lightly at your response. “I guess that’s fair.” 

There was a brief moment of silence in which the two of you once again found yourselves simply looking into each others eyes. Blocking off the surroundings. Basking in the comforting warm presence of one another. Something that ever since your dinner date a couple of weeks ago happened more often than it probably should have. 

The brunette doctor enjoyed these seconds. To him, they were pure bliss. To him, these moments of uninterrupted silence said more than either of you could ever say with words. Because truth be told Spencer was afraid to talk around you in case he ever said too much.

Which is why he only agreed to tag along today because Garcia was supposed to be here. As the maid of honour she volunteered to join you today since your fiancé couldn't make it. So when Spencer approached the car this morning, noticing immediately how the passenger seat was empty, he half wanted to turn back. He only stayed because of the promise he made your dad. 

Although, he really was going to have to be careful not to slip up and reveal something he probably shouldn't.

After what seemed like eternity, you tilted your head and looked away. Palms of your hands sweating inside your jacket pockets. Heart beating fast. The cold air no longer a nuisance. 

Unknown to the brunette doctor you also quite liked these silent moments. But unlike Spencer, you always felt incredibly guilty afterward. As if you were being dishonest and misleading somehow; rather your heart was. 

With an inaudible sigh, you began making your way toward the entrance. 

“Come on doctor, maybe they’ll have coffee here.” You called out after you, and shortly Spencer was by your side once again. 

The venue was beautiful. You had only stepped in the door and already you were mesmerised. Even though the space was currently empty, you had no trouble at all visualising what you hoped it would look like on your big day. From the colour scheme, to the flowers, and the decorations. 

“I am so glad you made it Y/N!” The wedding planner, Gina, appeared as you were basking in your surroundings. She hugged you briefly before turning her attention to Spencer. “And this must be the infamous Ethan.” 

“Oh actually, no.” You cut in before Spencer could say anything. Gina glanced at you once again, one brow raised. “Ethan couldn't make it.” You advised with a timid smile. “This is Spencer.”

Gina nodded slowly. She looked at Spencer, and as she was eyeing him up you were hoping that she wouldn't recognise the name. See you have known Gina for some time now. You had initially reached out to her about a year and a half ago when you were hoping to marry the very young doctor stood beside you. 

“Well, Spencer it’s nice to meet you.” She spoke, flashing him a pearly white smile. “I’m Gina, the wedding planner.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too Gina.” Spencer responded, returning the smile. You could tell he was feeling slightly uncomfortable being mistaken by your fiancé, and you took a mental note to apologise for that in the car.

“Shall we get started?” Gina asked, turning her attention to you. “Lead the way.” You replied. 

About an hour later the tour had concluded. You made plans to meet Gina at the next venue and after getting the exact address from her, you and Spencer ambled back to the car. 

“What did you think?” You asked while hopping inside the vehicle. 

“I liked it.” Spencer responded while fastening his seatbelt. You shot him a quick glance before securing your own strap. He smiled at you. “What?” “Just checking if you’re lying.” Spencer laughed at your response. “And am I?” You shook your head. “No. It appears you are telling the truth.”

You turned to look ahead before starting the engine. Soon the two of you were on the road. 

“I think it’s more important if you liked it.” Spencer spoke. “I loved it.” “Why do I sense a but.” Spencer enquired with a soft laugh. You giggled. “But I don’t think Ethan would’ve liked it.” “Ah.” 

“You can say it.” You retorted. “What?” Spencer asked. “That he’s not here so he shouldn’t get a say.” From the corner of his eye, Spencer noticed how your grip around the wheel tightened ever so slightly.  

“I’d never say that.” He replied. 

“Now that was a lie doctor.” 

There was a brief moment of silence.

You sighed. “He promised me he’d be here. Just like he promised he wouldn't get called to work during our engagement party.” You stopped the car at a red light and glanced glanced at Spencer who was already looking at you. “So you can say it. Heck, I’m fucking thinking it.” 

Spencer swallowed. He knew he shouldn't get involved. At least more than he already was. He knew he shouldn't indulge you. And he definitely knew that he shouldn't try to steer you away from Ethan. Because even though he really wanted to win you back, he knew that was unfair to you.  

So Spencer was glad the light turned green and your attention was back on the road before he got a chance to respond. 

“You know what was odd?” He said, quickly changing the subject. “What?” You asked. “How Gina didn't try to shake my hand when we met.” He noted, and immediately you bit your bottom lip. Fuck. You didn't realise it then. How could you have not realised? It means that she recognised the name and remembered how you told her he was a germaphobe. 

“She must have just been eager to get going to be honest.” You lied calmly. 

Spencer didn't buy your excuse. “I don’t think that’s it.” He said, trying to get a reaction out of you. “It’s almost as if she knew not to shake my hand.” 

“Honestly Spencer, I wouldn't read too much into it.” You countered. “I mean we are on a tight schedu-.”

“Why are you lying to me Y/N?” He interrupted causing the air to hitch in your throat. “Just like you know when I’m not being truthful Y/N, I can also tell when you’re lying and you’re doing so right now.” 

There was no point evading him any longer. Spencer was stubborn, almost as stubborn as you, and he wasn't going to stop pressing on the matter. Plus it was time he knew the truth. After all this time, he deserved to know the truth. 

Taking a deep breath, you pulled the car over on the side of the road and cut the engine. You turned to look at the brunette doctor who was already looking at you. 

“Do you remember the last time I visited you in prison?” You asked, your voice so timid you weren't even sure Spencer heard you. But he did. And he nodded his head slowly. “Of course I do. It was one of the worst days of my life.” He responded, and you could detect the hurt in his sentence. 

“Well, uhh-” You cleared your throat. Here goes nothing. “That day I came to see you I actually, eh, well I-I wanted to ask if you’d marry me.” 

Spencer was taken aback by your admission. A puzzled expression spread across his face as his mouth parted in shock. He searched his mind for what words to say but nothing seemed quite right. You wanted to marry him? The day he broke your heart by ending things with you so abruptly, you wanted to propose? He couldn't believe it. 

Of course you sensed that he had trouble with wrapping his brain around this, like you knew he would, so you continued. 

“Spencer, I loved you so much and just like the rest of the team I knew in my heart you were innocent. I knew it was only a matter of time before you would get out.” Tears began forming in your eyes and the lump in your throat grew larger with every passing second. 

“When you were locked away, and our life together was taken away from us without warning, I realised I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you.” The salty droplets began trailing down your cheeks and along your jawline. Spencer wanted to reach out and wipe them but he couldn't bring himself to move an inch. He was completely frozen.

“But between trying to clear your name, working the normal caseload, and honestly trying to get out of bed every fucking morning, I needed help to planning what I wanted to be the most perfect day.” You paused to take a quick breath. “Which is why I hired Gina.” 

“Why didn't you say anything?” Spencer asked quietly after a moment of silence. An uneasy yet somewhat freeing silence. 

“You broke up with me Spencer.” You replied. “That day I came to visit you, before I could even finish saying ‘Hi Spencer, I missed you.’, you ended things.”

“Y/N...” He whispered, and without thinking he took your hands in his. “And I know you remember what happened after that so I’m sure you can figure out why I didn't tell you sooner.” You added, corner of your lips twirling into a half-smile. Spencer squeezed your hands and let out a deep sigh. 

“If I-” The brunette agent began but you shook your head to cut him off. “I know you only ended things to protect me Spencer.” You freed your hands from his grasp and gently cupped his cheek. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that he leaned into your touch. 

“Which is why I was never angry with you, why I never resented you. I cannot take back the words I said to you that day but you have to understand it was all the initial shock considering I thought I would be leaving the prison with a fiancé and not completely heartbroken.” 

You let your hand fall from Spencer’s face and ran your fingers through your hair. You cleared your throat. 

“I hope this doesn't change anything between us.” You muttered. “Because I like where we are now, and I would hate-” This time it was Spencer who cut you off. “You have nothing to worry about Y/N.” He said with a timid smile.

“Thank you for telling me.” Spencer added.

“It was time you knew.”

You smiled at him warmly one last time before turning your attention back to the wheel. You started the engine once again and within minutes you were back on the road. 

The two of you drove in congenial silence. As you focused on the directions ahead, feeling grateful that the brunette doctor was understanding, Spencer’s mind raced. 

He couldn't help but wonder where the two of you would be now if he hadn't been so rash - married, maybe with a child by now. He shook the thought away, it hurt too much. 

Of course back then he did what he thought was the right thing to do. He was suspicious that whoever was framing him would come after you, and he knew he couldn't risk that. He would never risk anything bad happening to you. In the end his suspicions were proved correct when Cat and Lindsey kidnapped his mom. And when that happened you were there for him in unimaginable ways, you didn't leave his side for a minute. 

He should have begged for your forgiveness the second the whole ordeal was over. He should have fought harder to win you back, especially since it didn't take long for him to admit he only broke up with you to protect you. Truthfully, he was a coward. He thought perhaps you wouldn't take him back after the hurtful things that were said. 

After all this time, he learned that you only really said what you said because you thought Spencer was the love of your life. 

“I would have said yes.” The brunette doctor whispered.

Stopping at a red light, you turned your head to look at him. A confused look gracing your facial features. Spencer cleared his throat before nervously meeting your gaze. 

“I would have said yes.” He spoke louder. Now you definitely heard him. 

“Spencer...” 

“I know it doesn't matter now, but in case you ever wondered what I would have said if you got to ask me back then.” He paused. “I would have said yes.”

“You don’t have to say that.” You muttered with a soft smile. “I’m not just saying it Y/N. I really mean it.” He emphasised and your heart skipped a beat. 

The thought that crossed your mind next was incredibly wrong. The sudden pull you felt toward the man sitting beside you was inappropriate, misguided even, however it was there. You wanted to kiss him. You really wanted to kiss him. 

Perhaps if you knew that Spencer wanted to kiss you too, you would have leapt across from your seat to smash his lips against yours. To tangle your fingers in his hair, cradle his lap, feel his hands travel up your back and hold you close.

But you didn't know. So you hesitated. And as you hesitated, you were promptly brought back to reality by the car behind you. The beeping of the horn signalised the lights had turned green and it was time to move along. 

With a timid smile, you broke eye contact and began to drive. 

Heavy-sitting silence enveloped around you. Spencer noticed immediately the slight change in your demeanour but he chose not to comment on it. 

See, just seconds ago the brunette agent noticed a look in your eyes that he hasn't seen since you were dating. A look of devotion, amity. A look that burned the hope inside of him even more. 

An image formulated in his brain. Image of you walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress, him standing at the end of the alter while your dad gives you away, both of you tearing up. It was foolish, yes. Spencer should have known better than to hold out hope that one day that image would become reality but he couldn't help it. 

And as the image became more vivid, the pain he felt in his heart grew stronger. Knowing that one day you wanted to be his forever, and now he was helping you tour venues for a wedding he didn't want to happen. The perfect image came crumbling down. Reality hit. 

No matter how much he wanted it, you weren't his anymore. 

Keep thinking about us and how things get in between But if it is love, it doesn't matter, you don't belong to me But I can't let go

-

A/N: hello friends! i hope you liked the fourth chapter!! i’d love to hear your feedback and what you think will happen next! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01​, @reverdevivre​, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy​, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne​

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​

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[guiltysecretpasttime]

bumi + lin getting caught or how everyone found out about their relationship :-))))

Title: Discretion

Note: Here’s what I have for this particular Lin/Bumi II prompt. Hope you enjoy 😊

· Pairing: Lin/Bumi II

· One-shot, post-series AU

· Rating: Teen

-----

Bumi was whistling as the hustle and bustle around Air Temple Island continued in preparation for Varrick’s wedding. Why they allowed the wedding and the party on the island, he had no idea.

He watched the tired teenagers who were hovering excitedly around the affianced. He supposed they all deserved some sort of merrymaking after what he had dubbed in his mind as the Kuvira Incident. It also was not a bad idea to have them use this time to work out their romantic entanglements, he thought as he eyed the various couples gravitating toward each other.

It also gave him a lovely excuse to meet up with his ownromantic entanglement.

The former military man faced the city pensively.

He frowned as the water lapped against the shore. The sun continued to shine brightly even as the buildings at the island across showed devastation, some still slightly smoldering days after the attack.

The Kuvira Incident did put things into perspective.

Well, that went dark quickly.

He blinked away grim thoughts and focused instead on the fairy lights being hung around the courtyard.

As he decided earlier, they all deserve some merrymaking.

---

“What are you doing skulking around?” Bumi asked the lady in green, who was looking down at a kebab that had seemed to have displeased her.

Lin Beifong scoffed. “I am not.” And continued to examine the mystery meat on the stick.

Bumi sauntered closer to her, standing at her side, joining her quiet observation of the party. “What on earth did that kebab do to you?” He waved his free hand to said meat on a stick; his other hand occupied with helping him take a swig of whatever fruity punch Varrick was serving.

She bit it furiously while rolling her eyes. “It’s a bit tasteless, if you must know.”

Bumi bit back a laugh and just hummed.

While she could eat instant noodles as well as any cadet living off rations, Lin did have her snobby side to food when it comes to social events thrown by the upper-class.

“Then again, Varrick is tasteless when it comes to most things.” Lin added, her scowl scaring off a Nuktuk-attired waiter who had the misfortune of glancing their way to offer more refreshments.

This time, Bumi let out a laugh, earning him a smirk from the metalbender.

“Well, that’s true. Let me join you in disparaging the libation too – not a single touch of alcohol in this drink.”

They stood there, at the fringe of the party crowd for a while – he sipping the vile drink, she chewing the tough meat.

“They allowed you to wear that?”

It took Bumi a moment to understand she meant his uniform. “I am a retired commander after all.” That and because he did not want to be dressed in formal wear that was almost identical to what his brother was wearing.

Lin swallowed her food. “Hmm, I've been thinking of that too…”

“Me in a military uniform?” Bumi waggled his eyebrows and received a smack on his arm. “You in my uniform?” Another smack.

“Retiring.” She said it so quietly he thought he must have misunderstood her.

He briefly wondered what could have made her arrive at a such a life-changing decision. Then again, if that meant that she would be closer to safety than danger…

“I don’t see why not?” He tossed back with a grin, noting the veiled concern on Lin’s face, worried about his reaction. “As long as it’s what you truly want.”

Lin’s posture relaxed after that.

They continued to sip and eat in silence.

They saw Rohan running at the other side of the court, weaving through the people who were starting to go to the dance floor. Huan was noticeably dragged by Ikki to dance (“Kid takes after her mother, doesn’t she?” Bumi murmured in jest, only to get an elbow to his side as Lin shook her head.).

As people went over to the dance floor, it would not be long before someone noticed the lady beside him. Chief of Police or not, she always did strike quite a figure. Without all the armor (literally and figuratively), it could be easily argued the Lin could be approachable.

He stood closer at her side. He twitched his pinky finger to touch hers.

Her eyes darted to him.

The mood of the party was happy and hopeful. He knew this feeling. He had seen this before. The sigh of relief and desperation for something good after a long hard military campaign.

His face remained cheerful and proceeded to talk about everything and nothing.

Lin’s expression softened. “Want to leave the party?” Her pinky finger hooked around his.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

As always, Lin was the only one who saw through him.

---

Propping himself up on his elbow, Bumi watched her sleep.

Lin had always been a light-sleeper. He got that – living with a constant threat hanging at their back or having a long career that required alertness and rapid reaction time does that to you. That was why it never ceased to amaze him that the metalbender manages to have long uninterrupted sleep whenever they were together.

Spirits knew how much she deserved to sleep in.

He had sighed in relief when Lin said she had lied last night. She had not just been thinking of retiring from the police force – she had already filed her retirement to both President Raiko and headquarters. And, in true efficient Beifong fashion, she had secured approval within days. He did not think she had fully recovered and taking a break (albeit a permanent one) was more than needed.

His eyes traced the dark eye bags and pale complexion. The rebuilding efforts and the ton of work post-Kuvira Incident took a toll on her.

Her skin, already marred with various scars and marks throughout the years, was much too pale. Each imperfection was linked with a story. Each story building up to who Lin was now today.

Her ankle had a small scar, almost invisible unless you knew where to look, from her childhood escapades.

There was the jagged scar, stitches very much apparent on her calf from her earlier days as a beat officer.

A smattering of bruises at her lower back was still present, souvenir from being tossed off the colossus.

Her shoulder, while exhibiting any outer trauma, was still healing from being dislocated from the same scrimmage with death.

There were more across her body, but the most recent ones were those that hit Bumi the hardest.

He was the one who found the Beifong sisters unconscious in the arm of the mecha giant.

He had been beyond terrified until found their respective pulses.

He feared it would have been too late for him, for them. Then Lin fluttered her eyes open, and, despite her shallow breaths, managed to croak out in a less than acerbic tone to help her down.

He mused now in the pale daylight that he ought to have done something then, said something then. He decided to rectify that now.

Before he could even reach over to wake her up in that delicious manner he was planning, several loud knocks beat at his door. He subconsciously tightened his grip around Lin’s waist.

“Bumi? Bumi!” Tenzin.

“We know you’re in there.” Su. “Open up!”

Bumi threw a worried glance at Lin, but she was still asleep and simply buried her face closer to his chest, ensconced under his fluffy comforter and buried under his equally soft pillows. He leaned back and closed his eyes, willing their unwanted siblings away.

Maybe if I pretended to be asleep, they would leave us alone…

Knock-knock-knock! A pause. Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock!

“Bumi!”

He closed his eyes tighter.

Knock-knock-knock!

“Wait a minute, maybe it’s unlocked anyway…”

What are they talking about?

Bumi found out soon enough when the sound of the door sliding open reached his ears.

“Bumi – I can’t find -!”

He sat up quickly, making sure Lin was comfortable and quite hidden from view.

His visitors stopped at the doorway, enough to trespass but not enough to take a full scan of the room.

“Ohhh, I’m – we’re – sorry –.” Tenzin stammered, quite apologetic for bursting in his brother’s room.

Su did not have the same misgivings. “Bumi has a lady friend!”

“He does?!” A new voice called out with shock.

Tenzin and Su, he can tolerate but having the kids over – Bumi decided he drew the line there.

Fight shock with shock.

He stood up quickly, unmindful of being seen in his birthday suit.

“Oh sweet Spirits Agni! Bumi! Cover yourself!”

“My eyesss!”

The Avatar and Bolin immediately shouted over gasps of shock.

Bumi stretched languidly, pretending that nothing was amiss. He will not be embarrassed. That was their problem, they were the ones who were invading his privacy.

To be fair, he had no issues about his nudity so it was not really a big issue. It was just that with Lin in his bed – well, the situation was a bit tricky. Fortunately, her face was still hidden under the comforter. He pulled it higher, never mind that part of her leg is still visible.

“To what do I owe this wake-up call?” Bumi scratched his beard, acting as though this was a normal occurrence. He did delight in making his brother uncomfortable. They became closer in the latter years. Old habits die hard though.

“Bumi, we apologize for barging in this morning.” Tenzin was looking over his shoulder. “But could you – at least -.” He waved at the general direction of the naked man.

Bumi took his sweet time going around the room to pull on some clean shorts.

Su took this opportunity to push out the kids out of the room, who he now saw included both pro-bending brothers, Asami, Opal, and the Avatar.

“Why is the entire cavalry here?” Bumi sauntered to the door, blocking everyone’s view of the room and angling his body to stand in the way of the bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s Lin.”

A beat.

“What about her?”

“She’s missing. I didn’t know when she went home last night.” Su wringed her hands in worry. “I called her house, no one answered. We went over and she wasn’t there.”

It annoyed Bumi how they were suddenly on Lin’s case when they barely said two words to her the night before. There was bound to be a hidden agenda to this sudden worry.

“Your sister is a grown woman and she's been taking care of herself without you lot for more than a decade now.

He scanned the faces around him.

Postures stiffened, Tenzin flinched, eyes avoided Bumi’s.

Yeah¸ that’s what I thought.

Su stomped lightly. “Regardless of that,” The woman was adamant and would not back down. “We intend to go to the station to report her missing, with or without your inputs.”

Mako looked downright uncomfortable, Bumi thought the boy genuinely cared for his mentor.

“Boy, anything you’d like to add, detective?” Bumi nodded at the firebender.

“We can’t file a missing person’s case unless the person has been missing for more than 24 hours.” Mako shifted his eyes.

“There you go. Drop the matter, Su. I’m sure Lin is fine.”

Su looked like she was about to argue and Tenzin was about to say something but Mako beat him to it.

Still not catching anyone’s eyes, Mako started. “And well, what if the Chief also had a lady friend like Bumi? Or a gentleman friend?”

Bumi almost snorted.

Gentleman friend, what?

The detective was looking ill now but props to the boy.

“Lin with a special friend is highly unlikely.” Lin’s sister said decidedly, waving off Mako’s theory.

Bumi snorted now. “Right, because you’d know, ain’t it right?”

“I don’t see why not?” Suyin frowned, crossing her arms.

Moments like this Bumi was reminded why Lin still held some form of dislike towards her sister.

Asami tried to mediate. “I don’t think Chief Beifong would appreciate her private life being discussed like this.”

Bumi knew he always liked the Sato girl, he nodded and added. “Please don’t do this to try to assuage your…guilt.”

As expected, there were reactions from Su and Tenzin.

“We are not -!”

“Nonetheless, Bumi, Lin is…” Tenzin’s words trailed off and color drained from his face as he continued to look over his brother’s shoulder.

Bumi knew the moment Tenzin realized who was in his bed. He quickly slid the door closed. He tried to meet his brother’s eye, but the man was resolutely looking away.

“Safe.” Tenzin managed to choke out. “Let’s go everyone, I’m sure Lin is very safe.”

Su turned on Tenzin, obviously shocked by his sudden change. “What are you talking about, Tenzin – we -.”

“If Bumi says Lin is okay, then she probably is.” Was the simple yet shifty response.

“But we need Lin to -!”

Opal elbowed her mother gently, asking her to drop the issue. It did not escape Bumi’s notice.

There was the hidden agenda – Su needs Lin for something.

The group scurried away as both Tenzin and Mako helped herding them away from the bedrooms.

---

Bumi figured it was too early to be dealing with anything.

He rejoined a sleeping Lin in bed, who in turn, burrowed into his side.

He will deal with the real world later. For now, he will enjoy this.

---

Ignoring Suyin who was still chattering about one thing or another (in all likelihood berating him for not supporting her call to search for her sister), Tenzin mulled over his earlier discovery.

Lin and Bumi are together.

Not just together but together – together.

He wringed with his hands as they walked to the dining hall.

How long have they been together?

He had thought that this knowledge would bother him – well, it did, he reconsidered, but not for the reasons he might have initially thought of.

It was bothering him the same way it would have bothered him to see any woman sleeping with his older brother.

He had reconciled with his siblings and the Beifongs in the recent years, but some things should have remained private between them.

Like Bumi’s sex life.

Like Lin’s sex life.

Like their sex life.

Oh, how he wished he gone back to the past few minutes when he was still blissfully unaware. Or he hoped he would have already forgotten the markings and scars on Lin’s legs in order to not have recognized her in his brother’s bed.

Ah well, Tenzin eyed Lin’s family, the Avatar, Bolin, Asami, and Mako walking beside him, here’s hoping they not find out soon.

He doubted greatly that Lin would enjoy her relationship being disclosed before she deemed it necessary.

He recalled Bumi’s stance earlier, how protective he was of an unknowing Lin.

End of the day, Tenzin just wanted both of them to find happiness. He had did them both wrong in their lifetime and was at a loss on how to rectify it. The airbender had been trying in the past years, but there was only so much he could do.

Too little, too late, he always thought.

Tenzin waved at the acolytes that were leaving the dining hall. Pema sat down beside him and smiled as she handed him the platter of food. He smiled back, thinking still how lucky he was to have her by his side.

And now, by some peculiar twist of fate, Bumi and Lin found each other.

And, if, they make each other happy and content, then, Tenzin decided then and there, he will support them in any way that he can.

---

“Bro, are you going to eat that last piece?”

Mako was shaken from his reverie. Bolin stabbed the food on his plate at his head shake.

“Are you alright, Mako?” Asami was always the sensitive and observant of the group.

The firebender tossed a look at the Avatar chatting with Bolin and Opal at the other side of the table. After making sure that they were preoccupied, he turned to Asami.

Asami raised her eyebrows at him. “Well?”

“I think I know where the chief is.” He could not help but dart a wary glance at the Beifongs. “But it’s not my place to say.” Mako quickly added.

Asami leaned back at her seat and looked at him quizzically. “How did you know where?”

Mako dropped his utensils on the plate and covered his face with his hands. He was not one of Lin’s proteges for nothing.

One of his strengths as a detective is his keen eye for detail.

And details did not evade him in that brief view of Bumi’s bedroom.

It was quite obvious to him that the strewn pieces of clothing belonged to someone he had seen in attendance in the wedding reception earlier.

And that someone is his commanding officer.

---

Said commanding officer made her presence known at the lunch table that noon, surprised at seeing everyone still on the island.

That Chief Beifong was not expecting that there were still other guests at the residential area of Air Temple Island was fairly obvious, as Bumi was walking beside her, whispering at her side with a smile.

The plan was, actually, for most of the guests to have already gone their own ways but that morning’s excursion to Republic City made everyone’s itinerary delayed and their breakfast turned into brunch.

She exchanged a look with Bumi who shrugged and tried to sit at one of the empty tables unnoticed.

Now, while Mako might have been blessed with a sense of discretion, the same cannot be expected of his brother.

This became much apparent when said brother had gaped and thoughtlessly exclaimed, “Lin! We’ve been looking for you all morning – at what corner of Air Temple Island did you sleep at? I doubt this is the walk of shame.”

This pronouncement drew the attention of everyone in the hall – attention at her (their) very late entry and at her clothes which were clearly too formal for the day.

No one dared speak up as the metalbender simply glared at the earthbender, not responding.

There was complete silence in the dining hall.

…until comprehension dawned on Suyin Beifong’s face.

Then all hell broke lose.

---end---

Note: That could have probably gone better but let me know what you think. Anon, hope that worked for you (feel free to leave a note/msg :) ) Hope everyone is doing good, at least.

[ask-runaan-anything]

Runaan@NYCC 2021 AU headcanons

If Runaan actually attended in person with the characters voiced by the VA's who will attend: gosh the muns got self-indulgent, this is long

Runaan leaves home for NYCC 2021 and sends Ethari a single Pleading Face emoji every time he thinks of him

Ethari gets 2472496 Pleading Face emojis while Runaan is away

Runaan brings his favourite book(s) with him to keep him company and also for Serotonin

Rayla mentions this to Callum

Runaan is all WHy did you Tell the HUMAN

but Callum did the exact same thing

Runaan is unexpectedly supported and he's not sure he likes it

they also make a plan for what he (and Rayla) can do if he ever gets very overwhelmed

Ethari@Rayla: Rule #1 is, do not let him shoot anyone

Rayla; *very serious nod*

he rehearses what he'll say at the panel beforehand, using flash cards

and some of the cards say things like "Thank you" bc Ethari worries he'll forget

Ethari color coding the flash cards for "Social" and "Informational" so Runaan can flip through them if he's put on the spot

he also asks Ethari what he can mention about him+what's off limits bc he doesn’t want to make Ethari feel exposed or anything

Runaan: please don't have a Q&A section please don't have a Q&A section please don't have a

host: so let's open it up for a little Q&A now-

Runaan, internally: *bleep*

Under the table he starts flicking through his flash cards

he doesn't realize there's no tablecloth and everyone can see him do it

he watches the recording of it later to find all his faults but Rayla sits right next to him and she's all, "Yes yes they saw you and guess what, no one assassinated you over it, it's okay!"

Runaan goes Soft™

it's like he can feel Ethari there with him through Rayla's words

he has to thank her but words aren't his style so he offers to let her drag him out of the hotel for the first time that trip

ten steps outside and he has regretti

but he promised and his honor is at stake now so he keeps going

Rayla takes him to a bookstore

its slightly outside his comfort zone but it's quiet, and the city streets are so noisy

Ethari texted her a list of recharge spots, and one was a bookstore, with a reading nook, so she takes him there and they curl up on pillows and hammocks for a while

Another time they go out to a coffee shop at 3am

Runaan sends Ethari a Pleading Face emoji

Ethari replies with “!!” and “IT’S 3AM GO TO SLEEP YOU HAVE A PANEL IN THE MORNING”

Runaan just sends him another Pleading Face

Runaan has noise cancelling earshrooms if he needs them

Ethari wears them while he hammers

Ethari sends Runaan jokes to distract him just before his panels start

And Runaan lies down at night to talk to Ethari with his phone near his ear so it feels like back home when Ethari cuddles him

Ethari sending his own homemade "good luck" memes just before Runaan’s panel, so Runaan can fall back on showing them to the audience if he gets nervous, which he does, and they LOVE it, and Runaan is like, “I can see my husband has some support in the human lands, I'll be sure to tell him,” and the room cheers and Runaan is like "Aaaaa this is making me feel so seen but also yes, my husband deserves all the support"

Runaan sleeps surrounded by like 8 extra pillows in the bed so he can feel as snuggled as when Ethari's actually there

and one is Ethari's

Ethari lending Runaan his scarf bc it smells like him

and Runaan not only sleeps with it right near his nose but he wears it during the panel

Runaan wearing his serious face at the panel and answering hard or angsty questions, and the whole time he has earshrooms in and their lil stems are pokin out of his ears

If Runaan is here then all the other characters with VAs at NYCC are also here, so it’s a panel of actual characters

Viren using chopsticks to try and steal one of Runaan's earshrooms out of unbridled curiosity, and Runaan just. takes them away from him. without looking over. and slaps them on the table like. no, bad human, do not steal my earshrooms while I'm talking.

Claudia's flipping through a book but it's a recipe book and she's looking up mushroom soup

Ethari made Runaan an anti-dark magic charm so he's safe and no one can use it on him, so he feels safe attending the panel at all

someone asking about Lachir and Runaan just brightening

also pspsps that person is @hoothalcyon

Runaan goes off for ten minutes unprompted and uninterrupted about his moonstrider, it's about as animated and excited as anyone has ever seen him

Clauds over on the side making big heart eyes

she asks if he has a picture and he says yes and she bounces over to him and squeals loudly

Rayla texts Ethari just then and Ethari gets a FaceTime call going so everyone can see Lachir in person back home, because ofc she is fine and alive

and Lachir looks derpily at the camera like "wat dis"

She do the blep, sniffs camera, makes it smudgy

Ethari laughing and protesting off screen

the entire panel and audience is all "awwwwww"

Viren loudly demanding a cute pet so people will like him too

Runaan does a discreet lil happy stim and it's so discreet that barely anyone catches it except one or two ND's who are like aaaaa

Rayla slipping behind Viren and putting an adoraburr on his ear tho

"One cute pet, courtesy of Xadia! You've had your Adorapox vaccinations, right?" she chirps sassily

yes the pox look like adoraburrs

you are very contagious and very adorable

Janai, someone asks her about Amaya and she gets flustered and Runaan feels seen

audience question during the Q&A: Runaan, who would win in a fight between you and Janai?

Janai, immediately: Me.

Runaan: Her.

Janai flexes, literally

Runaan is happy to give her the spotlight, which is why he lied, bc ofc he thinks he could take her, he'd do it at night and he'd steal her sword first, obviously

nowhere in the question did it say "fair" fight

Amaya is in the audience and she keeps signing flirty things at Janai no matter how loud the room gets or who's asking who what, and Janai keeps getting more and more flustered and distracted

Runaan has one (1) moment where he's actually relieved his husband isn't there

Ethari would want to tease him so badly

Q: Runaan, are you a good dancer?

Runaan: I'm passable, with the right partner.

Q: So can you show us some moves?

Runaan, blushing: Distinctly not.

whistling and clapping ensue

Rayla jumps up and grabs Callum's hand and says, "I can show you some moves!"

and they dance very sweetly and cutely with some basic Moonshadow moves

and Runaan is like "I can't tell if this is worse"

Q: Runaan, how did your marriage proposal go?

Runaan, after a long flustered moment: ...Successfully. *taps his horn cuffs*

Q from someone wanting to know how to follow Runaan on social media: Runaan, you're amazing, where can we find you?

Runaan: The Silvergrove, but you can't actually-

Q: No I mean, what if we want to follow you?

Runaan: You'd need to know the key dance, and that's protected information. Also, stalking isn't nice.

Q: But you stalk people.

Runaan: *dramatic eyebrows* And it isn't nice.

Next Q: Has Ethari ever gotten hurt, and what did you do?

Runaan: *crushes water bottle*

Host: Okay another question then!

his answers would be really short if he did not feel comfy interacting, which is probably most of the time

Rayla took away Runaan's bowblade before the panel started

Runaan: but that's my emotional comfort trick weapon

Rayla: No. Ethari's Panel Rule #1. No stabbing or shooting people.

they pass a weapons display in the artist alley and someone made a replica of the Bloodborne bowblade and Runaan’s like, hm that looks familiar

Runaan wandering the con and talking to all the cosplayers with cool looking weaponry tho

he takes pics for Ethari

Runaan wandering the con and asking Runaan cosplayers, "So who are you supposed to be?" bc he genuinely doesn't know

he doesn't think he should be in the pictures for security reasons but he takes pix of Rayla posing with everyone dressed as Runaan

social media gets flooded with pix of his hair from the back though

#itssosoft trends on Twitter

Rayla sets up a pic where half a dozen happy fans get to brush Runaan's hair at the same time, and he's stuffing his face with moonberry surprise so he doesn't get nervous

it actually makes him look happy and social and Ethari is like HOW, HOW DID YOU MANAGE THIS, MAGIC

people shyly approach him and ask if he and Ethari can adopt them and he says yes

he ends up in a coffee shop zone with a couple dozen people gathered around and tells them the importance of found family in Moonshadow culture and he doesn't understand why they're all crying

Rayla teasing Runaan and telling him to tell a pirate story

Runaan is like, "Spoilers for Season 5"

some superfan nerd like mun tries to get him to admit how much he knows about Xadia and history and the show's plot, and he does that one line that all stabby people say. "I could tell you. But then I'd have to kill you."

he gets half a dozen volunteers and he is so concerned

Runaan, Protector of Secrets

Soren starts to spill about 14% of a secret and from across the entire con hall a green fletched arrow just zips by

Soren is like "You know what, never mind"

Cracky: Viren runs through the room looking for protection, and Runaan is like ugh fine who's after you this time, and Viren's all, "No one, my children are just being so silly and I just need a break for five minutes, can we please have a grownup conversation about something serious and angsty, please I’m actually begging you"

Runaan spots the adoraburr on Viren's ear and he's like, "Adoraburrs get lonely if they're alone," and he puts another one on Viren's other ear

and then a bunch more so they stack like a hairband and they're happier

Runaan just smirks and walks away

the adoraburrs start squeaking to each other and Viren is like, "Ugh, I preferred my children's terrible puns" and the adoraburrs get huffy and all hop down and abandon him

he does not in fact get adorapox because Viren believes in inoculation

some attendees would try to convince Runaan to "seek asylum" in NY and not return to Xadia or something, and he'd be like "But. Ethari."

they remind him that if he goes back he has to wait in a coin, and he doesn't get it

"Wdym. Ethari is there. Not here. I have to be there."

"BUT. COIN."

"BUT. ETHARI."

Rayla's like, I ain't Naruto running all the way back

She clicks a car fob and there's a *boop boop* noise

and this hovering coin like Tenser's Floating Disk shows up and they hop onto it and surf into the distance

Rayla shouts "SPOILERS FOR SEASON FOUR I KNOW WHO DIES AND IT’S-"

and Runaan is like "RAYLA DON'T MAKE ME HAVE TO SHOOT YOU, I COULDN'T DO IT LAST TIME AND I CAN'T DO IT NOW, DON'T GET ME IN TROUBLE I SWEAR TO THE M-"

talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, everyone hopes they come back next year too

[catxsnow]

CHRISTMAS MORNING D.G.

Request: I would like to request a soft Christmas morning with Dick where everything feels right. There's snow falling outside, nowhere to be and he's just get babied by his love, he deserves it.

Warning: fluff

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope everyone has a wonderful day today! Sending my love to every single one of you :)

Word count: 1.4k 

Dick Grayson loved to spend Christmas mornings with you. From the moment that he woke up to the moment he went back to sleep - he loved the entire day with you. It was the only day of the year that it seemed he could go uninterrupted with you and he put good use to it too.

It was cold that year in Gotham. The snow that never seemed to end, frigid winds that always had you pulling him a little closer at night for warmth. Christmas day was no different. Snow fell from outside your apartment's windows. Dark, gray skies allowed for your small tree to shine bright in the cramped space.

The presents that were once perfectly wrapped under the tree were scattered around the living room. Dick, as always, managed to find a way to spoil you. He didn't care about the value of the gifts, just the sentiment behind them. Besides, being with you was all that he could really ask for.

Some cheesy Christmas movie played on your TV, but at the moment your attention was solely on Dick. He laid in your arms, snuggled into the crook of your neck where his warm breath sent chills up your spine. Without even needing to see his face, you knew he had that loving smile plastered on it.

He was already half asleep once more. Between your fingers massaging at his scalp and the warmth of being in your arms he was ready for a nap again. It had been an early morning too, Dick had woken you up just past the crack of dawn with excitement of finally being able to give you the gifts he had been so desperately waiting for.

"We can go back to bed, babe," You chuckled as he hummed with content. The couch was far too small for the both of you but he still managed to trap you on it every other day. "You seem tired."

As if he wanted to defy you, Dick popped up. He no longer looked exhausted but rather full of energy once more. December always reminded him of his time with his parents and the circus. The extra bright lights, joyful music - not to mention there were always more people at their shows.

As hard as his first holiday season without them was, he was sure as hell glad to have you to enjoy them with now. Every year it brought out the kid in him and it was always great to see him filled with so much joy.

"Babe, if I go back to bed now we're not getting back up at all," Dick joked. He pecked your lips before climbing off of you completely. His hand extended to grab yours - and just to get the warmth of him back - you accepted. Dick twirled you around to the music playing from the TV.

He swayed you around the living room, one hand on your hip and the other enclosed in yours. After all the years of being in Bruce's home, Dick had perfected the art of slow dancing. As cheesy as it was, you were glad that he had the skill for moments like these. Just the two of you, and nothing but an intimate moment.

As the song came to an end, Dick dipped you. He brought your lips to his when pulling you back up. He tasted of the hot chocolate that he had made for you both earlier. "Pretty out there today, huh?" you asked. The snow fell in large flakes, covering everything in its path white.

"It is," Dick agreed. He wrapped his arms around you from behind so he too could appreciate the view. It wasn't much, but it was your home. "However, I'm far more glad to be here inside with you where we can be nice, warm, and cozy." He kissed the side of your face. The hoard of blankets on your couch proved that.

There was a plethora of blankets everywhere. Your living room, bedroom - hell there was even one in your kitchen half the time. Dick loved to pull you into him and cocoon the blankets around you both. He had you snuggled up against him that morning with three extra blankets covering you both.

He was stuck between wanting to get up and a deep desire to hold you for several more hours. After several kisses and promises that you were his for the whole day, he allowed you to get out of his arms and the intense warmth of your bed.

"Do you think I can pull off making Alfred's candy cane hot chocolate?" Dick asked, pulling you out of your thoughts of your morning with him.

As much as you loved him, whenever he tried to mimic a recipe of Alfred's it always ended in failure. However, you weren't particularly in the mood to visit the big bat and his manor that day - which meant one of two things: let Dick try to make it or get no hot chocolate at all.

"Give it your best shot, my love," you reluctantly agreed. Dick kissed your cheek once more and dragged you to the kitchen. The two of you rummaged through your cabinets to hopefully find the right ingredients to make it. Although it probably wasn't what Alfred used - Dick threw it all in a pot anyway.

His phone buzzed - probably a text from the big man himself. Dick asked you to check it as he (struggled) to make the drinks. Just as you expected, it was a text from Bruce wishing you both a Merry Christmas. You tossed one of the Santa hats resting beside you over to your boyfriend and put the other one on.

His chin rested on your shoulder and a huge grin was plastered on his face as you got ready to take a photo of you both. As soon as the flash of the camera was gone, Dick peppered your face with kisses. "Hey, come on. I'm trying to send this to Bruce," you giggled at his distraction. "Awe, look how cute we are."

"You're the one making us cute, babe."

"Oh shut up, Grayson," you rolled your eyes at his flirting. Before he could distract you again, you send the picture off and wished Bruce and Alfred a Merry Christmas back. Dick still rested against your shoulder, arms tightly around you. "I hope Damian likes the gifts we got him."

"He will," Dick assured. He was close with his youngest brother, and by that point, he knew that the new Cheese Vikings game was going to be the best gift he was going to get. Besides, Damian would love anything that came from either of you. "So will Bruce, and Alfred, and everyone else we bought for - now stop worrying. We're supposed to be enjoying today."

"I am," you spun around in his arms. Any moment with Dick was an enjoyable one - especially on days like those. You kissed him once more that morning, showing off your love for him in ways that words simply couldn't. "I love seeing you happy like this, you know."

"I'm always happy when I'm with you," Dick told you. He opened his mouth to speak once more but a smell had caused you to cut him off.

"Do you smell something burning?"

"The stove!" Dick panicked. He completely forgot that he had turned the stove up to high to get the hot chocolate heated. Lumps of melted chocolate stuck to the bottom of the pot and the milk that was in it was tinted dark from being overheated. As upsetting as it was that your drink was ruined - it came as no surprise. "This was not my fault! You distracted me."

Your mouth fell open in shock. Your fault? As if. "Look at that you've ruined Christmas, Dick," you joked. Dick set the pot back on the counter and reached his arms out to grab you. Thankfully, you expected him to pull this kind of move and ran out of the way just in time. You stood on the opposite side of the tiny island as him.

In one swift move, Dick leaped over the counter and captured you with ease. Your laughs echoed through the apartment. They stopped when Dick's playing ended and he pecked your lips.

"Don't worry babe, I know how to save our Christmas."

[ithebookhoarder]

Could I get something for valentines day to do with the Shelby gang? I really don't mind what or who. I just feel like I need a little love for the day...

Valentines Day Head-Canons for the Shelby Family

A/N: Of course you can, anon! Hope you have a great day, whether you’re celebrating or not. It’s just a day, really, so I hope this cheers you up ;) Sending so much love x 

Masterlist:

Arthur: 

This man would be nervous as hell that he’d mess up valentines day with you. He’s not exactly known for being the romantic of the family, nor does he have the sophistication of his younger siblings. In fact, he’s sometimes surprised you’re even with him at all. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try, though. Oh no, this man is going all out for the day and nothing is too much for you. He’ll have asked everyone, and I mean everyone, for advice about what to do to make the day special. 

He’s not a many of many words so he lets his actions do the talking for him, giving you a massive bouquet of flowers as he comes to collect you for the evening. 

“Arthur, they’re beautiful. You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for me. I mean, you even got orchids - my favourites. How did you know?”

“I remember you told me before, eh? When we were at that place down in London. The one with the fancy window displays.”

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

But that’s Arthur. He’s utterly head over heels for you, which is probably why he turns bright red as you kiss him on the doorstep before hurrying back inside to put them in some water. 

He’d also make sure to open every door for you the entire night, refusing to let you even lift so much as a finger. 

In fact, he even pulls your chair out for you in the restaurant he’s taking you to, glaring at the waiter who was going to do it, in a clear sign to back away if he wants to escape with his life. 

“Arthur. I saw that. Behave.”

“I’m on my best behaviour, love. Promise.” 

“Oh really? What a shame, as I had kind of hoped you wouldn’t be, considering that I’m wearing your present underneath this dress.”

Arthur almost combusts there and then. 

Screw dinner - he wants to devour you and only you. Maybe that’s why he practically drags you out of the door at the end of the night, making you laugh as you hurry after him, the two of you fumbling with each other like horny teenagers.  

Needless to say, you spend the rest of the night wrapped in a tangle of limbs, lost in an haze of pleasure as you gift one another with your bodies. 

John:

Now, considering his kids and the fact they are more than a handful, he knows just how important time spent with just the two of you is. That would be his first and biggest gift, getting one of the family to agree to watch the hell spawn long enough for you two to spend some time alone together. 

It’s just you and him for 24 hours of uninterrupted bliss, with no crying children or screaming babies to think about. 

True, it would be weird at first to have the house so quiet, but that’s exactly what you need for you and John to just talk to one another about anything and everything you’ve missed over the past few weeks. After all, he’d probably have been so busy with work he feels like he’s hardly seen you recently. 

He’s also remarkably in-tune with you and knows exactly how to spoil you rotten. 

“You do so much for me and the kids, it’s the least I can do, right? You deserve the world, but I guess I’ll have to do, eh?”

Who knew John Shelby was such a softie?

He’d have the day mapped out down to the finest detail: Breakfast in bed? check. A hot bath with wine and candles? Check. That new dress you had your eye on when you last went into town? Check. Making love for hours on every surface of the house? Triple check. 

He knows how lucky he is to have you and would spend all day making sure you knew. 

“At this rate, we’ll be having another little one to be bribe Polly to watch next year.”

“John Shelby! I swear to god I am not having another baby-“

“So you want me to put my clothes back on and not fuck you again?”

You wisely say nothing and kiss him instead. 

“As I thought.”

Tommy: 

Considering how busy he normally is, the only gift you could ever want from him was that of time. Time away from the stresses of the company or his family and their never ending messes. 

It’s why you’re eager to subtly remind him about the date every chance you get in the weeks preceding it. 

Little do you know, he’s perfectly aware of the day. In fact, he has plans of his own cooked up for the both of you… you just didn’t need to know that yet. 

It makes the surprise all the more satisfying as he wakes you early the morning of, peppering you with kisses and encouraging you to get dressed. 

“I thought people usually tried to get people undressed on Valentines day?”

“Patience, love. It’s worth it, I promise.”

You laugh and trust him, unable to deny him anything when he looks genuinely happy for once. That in itself is a gift, as is the chance to spend the day riding with him around the estate you called home. 

Tommy is happiest on horse back, and you grin as you eye him clambering on his horse out front. 

You’re quick to follow, not surprised to see he’d had your horse readied too. He really had thought this out, down to the route you take. 

“This way, there are no phone calls or fucking distractions,” he explains, relieved at the utter delight in your eyes. “Not unless one of the staff want to grab a horse and come find us. Good luck to them.”

“They’d need it, especially if they’re stupid enough to risk me shooting them for disturbing us. They’d be idiots.”

Tommy laughs. 

Eventually, he’d stop you both, just on the edge of the woods, revealing the next surprise as he pulls out a blanket and basket (prepared with Frances’s help, of course). 

“A picnic, Tommy?” 

“I told you it was a surprise.” 

It’s the best surprise as you both sit there, drinking and laughing as the sky turns dark. 

That’s when he lights a fire for you both, letting you huddle close by the flames, eyes gazing at the stars above you. 

You listen to him telling you all about the constellations and the stories he learned as a child. The sound of his voice is heavenly and you could easily listen to him all night. 

So much so, you’re quick to wish the night would never end, letting you two stay like this, wrapped peacefully in each other’s arms forever. 

Finn:

This literal angel is sweet as hell. Like, you better be prepared for the hand made card he’ll have made you… with Polly’s help, of course. He isn’t a hundred percent sure his spelling would have been right otherwise, but for you he’s willing to make the effort to try and write it for you. After all, you’ve more than likely been trying to help him learn to read and write since you started seeing one another. 

“Aunt Pol… is heart spelt with two t’s or one?”

“One, Finn.” 

“And does angel have a j in it?”

“No, Finn.”

Everyone else thought it was adorable and proof that he truly does love you. They’ve never seen him work so hard on anything in his life. 

Your own card is much simpler, because you wanted to make sure he could read it without too much difficulty. You also may or may not have got a bit carried away with drawing hearts and other sketches to fill it instead of trying to use long and complicated words about how much you loved him. 

However, neither one of you seem to care. You’re too happy with the cards you receive to care about your own possible mistakes. 

You’re also too busy admiring how much of an effort each of you made with your outfits for your date. Sure, it was just drinks and dancing with some of the other teenagers in Small Heath (basically Isiah and his girl) but you’d both gone full out for the occasion. 

“Is that suit new?”

“Maybe… John helped me pick it out. Why? Does it look stupid?”

“No, Finn Shelby. You look incredibly handsome,” you beam, toying with his lapels before linking his hand with yours. “I’ll be the luckiest girl there tonight.”

“And I’ll be the luckiest man.”

Oh yeah, you two are reals saps, just as most young lovers are. You’re all nervous glances, laughs and touches as you two dance the night away. 

It would also be the night Finn kisses you for the first night, summoning the courage to do it as he drops you off back at your house, just a little after curfew. 

It’s worth the risk and as you kiss him back he swears he’s flying the rest of the way home. 

Micheal: 

Micheal has had his plans in place for weeks, making sure every little detail would be perfect for the two of you. He’s honestly looking forward to it, enough to welcome his mother’s advice as she throws suggestions and tips at him the week before. 

“Women like to feel special, Micheal. What about getting her a necklace? Or some chocolates? Fancy ones from France or something.” 

“Mum, thanks, but I’ve got it covered. Promise.”

“Are you sure?”

Micheal laughs and tries not to be offended at her obvious doubt. Then again, he’s not always had a track record of being the most romantic or thoughtful with women. Still, he really cares about you and he’s determined not to mess this up. 

It’s why he’s chosen the perfect place for you two to spend the evening together: your place. 

He’s determined to spend the time just the two of you, and what better way to impress you than cooking dinner for you? 

With the bottle of champagne he brought and your favourite records playing in the background, you’re quickly at ease, grinning as you watch him effortlessly chop, dice and season the dish he’s chosen. 

How is peeling a potato so sexy when he does it? 

It’s honestly impressive, but also because he’s putting so much effort into it which is a nice surprise. As is the way he dances around the kitchen with you whenever there’s a pause in the recipe or a particularly good song comes on. 

You’re surprised at his soft singing voice as he holds you, humming along. It’s rare he allows himself to be seen in such a way, relaxed with no one to judge him for being soft or a little off key.   In front of the other Shelbys he’s normally desperate to impress them, trying to be tough and nonchalant.

However, you know deep down he’s still the country boy you fell in love with when he first arrived in the city.  

By the time you’ve finished dinner, the candles have almost burned out and you know where the evening is headed as you both start to scurry off to your bedroom. 

Ada:

Ada is probably the most relaxed of all the Shelby bunch when it comes to special occasions. This is Ada we’re talking about. She’s also probably the most sane of the bunch, so she knows how to act like a normal person. 

She doesn’t need anything big or fancy as a gift or some elaborate plan to make her fall head over heels. 

A day in the park, with Karl holding both your hands as you walk to the duck pond, is enough to make her look at you with utter adoration in her eyes. She loves how well you both get on, becoming a little family of you own. 

It’s why it’s no surprise you all have dinner together, with Karl helping to serve you as your two favourite people spoil you rotten. You normally eat together most days, even if Karl doesn’t normally wear a suit or call you ‘madame’ every time he passes you something like a mini waiter. 

Ada smirks at the sight, informing you it’s all Karl’s idea - as is the card he thrusts upon you.

“I made the card myself!”

“You did? Wow, Karl. Look how amazing it is. I love the glitter on the heart.” 

“I knew you would. Mum didn’t think so but I won.”

The look Ada gives you makes you want to laugh until you cry as you clearly sense the frustration she must have suffered in the pursuit of Karl’s artistry. It also explains why you’ve been finding glitter everywhere all week. 

“Well, I love it. Thank you - both.”

You press kisses to both of their cheeks, grinning as Ada purred something about giving you her card later once Karl’s in bed. You’re eager to return the favour, impatient to give her your own card and gift. 

It’s a framed photo of you all, taken one day when you’d all been at the local fair. 

The sight of it is enough to make Ada watery eyed as she gives you yours, watching as you unwrap it and gasp in delight. 

The book is the next in a series you’d recently started and fallen in love with. However, you were pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be released yet. 

“What can I say? Perks of having a librarian girlfriend with exclusive access to advanced copies we’re supposed to be holding on to until next month. I borrowed one and I’m sure they won’t notice.” 

“Ada Shelby. You stole a book for me?”

“Borrowed. Not stole.” 

You don’t care, too overwhelmed to do anything other than kiss her passionately. 

[miscellaneous-bnha]

Poly! Ghosts Hawks/Shouto x Fem! Reader

Commissioned by @bobawithpomegranate

CW: Nothing too bad. Strangers to friends to FWB to lovers, Some light angst, happy ending, Shouto eats Hawks’ cum to prove a point, Hawks and Shouto throwing shade at each other, spitroasting, reader is constantly overstimmed at the end --------------------------------------------------------

Your quirk quite literally made you see dead people.

Thankfully, you don’t actually have to see what caused their death, but rather during their best moment before their passing.

Your ability to interact with them, however, solely depends on their state of mind during their passing.

For people who were in grief over their passing, they were often too hysterical to communicate with.

People who’d come to accept their passing were easier to talk to, but touching was relatively impossible because they were on their way into transitioning into another life. Their energy was too little to physically interact with.

People who weren’t in grief over their passing, but still struggled to accept it would be able to make physical contact with you as well as avoid the hysteria.

In other words:

You hadn’t expected to literally run into pro heroes Hawks and Shouto

3 months after their supposed passing.

You were skeptical because no bodies were ever found.

But now you knew.

And it was awkward.

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

“So…” you slide into your apartment with the ghosts of the former(?) pro-heroes shortly behind you, “you died during the last villain attack, then?” Hawks shrugs.

“Technically, yes, but also no. Do you remember what the villain’s quirk was?”

“To make people ‘disappear’ or something?”

“Yeah, something like that. Come to find out, their quirk turns people into ghosts. We don’t actually know if we’re dead or alive.”

“That would explain your continued existence then.”

For the next several hours, the three of you talk about the possibilities, but with no safe way of testing any of your theories, you opt to just giving them a space to stay, even if they don’t actually need it.

The next morning, you thank your lucky stars that you don’t have work, considering you would have been 4 hours late by now. You’re also slightly unnerved to find the both of them watching you.

“Sorry, but there isn’t exactly a whole lot we can do anymore. Watching you make funny faces in your sleep is the best we have.” Todoroki shrugs as you sputter indignantly,

“I don’t make funny faces.” “Sorry to tell you, but he’s not wrong. Your face is pretty funny.” you glare at the winged pro,

“You’re not helping.” He shrugs,

“Never said I was trying to.”

You decide to let them pick a Netflix show to leave on overnight, making sure it would continue to run for several hours uninterrupted as you slept.

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

the show they ended up coming to agree on was some weird trashy reality show.

You didn’t even know it’s existed.

But that’s ok

You didn’t need to know.

Watching them float around your apartment and explore was… a little unnerving, to say the least.

Considering this was your private space and all

But they were good company

Hawks talks a lot about how he misses fried chicken, and that you should eat some for him every time you try and get food together

Only to be interrupted by Todoroki

Honestly, you thought it was to be like “leave her alone and let her eat what she wants”

But then boy really was out here like “she should eat cold soba for me instead”

Like wow, thanks.

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

“C’mon, mini Endeavor! Don’t be so cold.” 

‘Wow, talk about shots fired.’ you raise your eyebrows, turning to Shouto

“Call me that again, and I’ll roast you alive you KFC reject.”

‘Oh yikes; returned serve.’ you look at Hawks from the corner of your eye.

“Oooh, feisty kitty. Little calico catboy. Besides, we’re ghosts; I don’t think you can kill me like this.”

‘Saucy. Pro Hero Hawks confesses to knowing what catboys are.’ you bite your lip, raising your glass to take a sip.

“Test me again and you’ll find out, Red Robin.”

‘He’s got you there.’ you nod to yourself.

“Fair enough.”

It’s silent for a moment; you set your glass down and look up just in time to see Hawks smirk.

“If it makes you feel better… your dad tastes about as awful as he acts.” It doesn’t make Shouto feel better, but it’s good to know that the most damage he can do is strangle Hawks.

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

“They’re good company” you decide

But you’ve been pent up for almost a month now, and you decide that you’re almost horny enough to rent a hotel room to ‘solve your problems’

But you don’t because that’s a little weird

That doesn’t stop you from fantasizing though.

You don’t expect them to be watching you in the morning one day

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

“I thought I put Netflix on for y’all.” You turn into your pillow, groaning quietly as your legs and back stretch.

“We were watching it…” Todoroki starts,

“Then a certain little missy started making noises.” you grunt, perturbed.

“Okay, so I sleep talk. What about it?”

“I don’t know if you could call that *sleep talking*, per se…” You peek an eye open at Hawks, squinting when you notice his grin, “What do you think, catboy?”

“Definitely wouldn’t call it sleep talking.” He says from the other side of you. You don’t expect the small smirk on his lips, nor do you expect the way he stares at you so intensely.

“What… do you mean…?” you shove yourself further under your sheets, heart rising up into your throat.

“Sounds like someone’s a *little*...” Hawks looms over you, lips next to your ear, “pent up.”

You shiver hard, but cough and try to save face.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” you grumble, closing your eyes as if you were trying to go back to sleep.

“I bet if we take those pretty panties of yours, they’ll be soaked right now.” Hawks presses, eyes growing hungrier.

You flounder for a moment, and that’s all it takes for Hawks to make his move.

“Do you want some help, birdie? Want me to use my fingers on that pretty little pussy?” You shudder and whine, growing embarrassingly wet,

“I bet you’re just dripping from the thought, aren’t you?”

“Sh-shut up…” you spit weakly, pressing your thighs together.

“C’mon, why don’t you let me help?” His hands are slapped away before they can pull the sheets from you.

“Maybe she doesn’t want you to touch her,” Shouto slides his hand down your back; before you can whine in protest, more than willing to follow through, he continues.

“Maybe she’d rather have a real man touch her, not some ‘Original Recipe’ asshole.” You laugh into the pillow despite yourself.

Even now, Shouto somehow manages to make this into some strange competition they’ve been having, but you don’t complain when two pairs of— admittedly cold— hands pull away the sheets.

Especially when you’re no longer finding yourself in need of a hotel room.

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

Somehow, you end up being Friends with Benefits with both of them.

Though they only ever used their fingers and mouths on you, but you weren’t going to complain

“It’s the least we could do, since you’re giving us somewhere to linger and free entertainment.”

Or so they said, anyway.

Somehow they learn just when you’re in desperate need of their touch before you even walk in through the door, almost instantly tugging you in and throwing your clothes off.

Despite the strange circumstances, you end up growing closer to the both of them over time

Part of you dreads the day you figure out how to reverse the villain's quirk

Assuming it’s possible

Not only were they both the best bed partners you could ask for

You genuinely enjoy their company and shady banter

But in moments when you’re all huddled up on the couch, watching yet another trashy reality show

You forget they’re ghosts in the first place

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

“God, I can’t believe Jasmine.” You scoff, throwing a piece of popcorn at the TV.

“Right? Paula didn’t deserve that shit. That girl is a queen.” Hawks grumbles in agreement, groaning when the interviewers cut to Jasmine.

“Agreed. Paula is queen.”

“It’s a miracle the two of you haven’t completely fried your brains watching this.” Shouto rolls his eyes, reading a book you brought home the other day.

“Shut up. You’re just mad Bernadette got voted off last week.” Hawks throws a kernel at Shouto, but— expectedly— it goes right through him.

“Bernie was the only decent girl and you both know it.” He glares, borderline pouting.

You smile, bittersweet. You grab the kernel that phased right through Shouto and continue watching the episode in silence.

You’re too lost in thought to notice the way they look at you.

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

At one point, their words and touches become so much sweeter, even outside the bedroom

When, however, is a question you couldn’t even begin to answer.

Some days, you wake up to the two of them brushing your cheeks, your hair.

Shouto grabs your hand gently, planting a soft peck on it with a quiet ‘Good morning, sweetheart.’

Hawks following up with a kiss to your  temple, “how’d you sleep?”

Other times, they would greet you at the door, asking about your day as they helped you out of your coat, taking your bag from you.

It felt so domestic, so peaceful, so *loving*

 you were afraid of it shattering like glass under a sledgehammer

But as they say, all good things must come to an end

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

“Good morning, hummingbird.” You groan when Hawks presses a kiss to your eyelid, warm fingers tracing over your cheek.

Warm?

You open your eyes, whipping your head to look at the winged hero, “Hawks? You’re warm??”

He grins, pretending to be bashful, “Oh, why thank you! I’ve been told I’m rather nice.”

“No no no, you’re warm. Not cold.” You grab his hand and inspect it, thumbs pressing into his palms. He grunts,

“Well, now that you mention it, the room *is* a bit cold.” You hardly pay attention to him though when you’re suddenly stumbling out into the living room.

“Shou? Shouto?” You find him sitting on the couch. He looks up from the book, shocked.

“Yes? What is it? Are you okay??” He stands, meeting you halfway as you press your hands to his cheeks.

“Warm…” you whisper, heart thumping painfully in your chest.

“Well, at least your left side is.” You pull your hands away from his cheeks as he looks at you baffled, then to Hawks.

“Is everything alright? What’s going on?”

“I think… I think you’re human again.” You laugh humorlessly, and they look at you skeptically.

“Human? How? We didn’t do anything.” you give an exaggerated shrug,

“I don’t know, but how else am I supposed to explain your temperature.” They stay silent. You expect them to.

A pregnant pause, then you let out a shaky breath.

“I gotta call someone…” you tug at your hair, “Before someone finds out and I get accused for kidnapping you both.”

“Well, let’s not be too hasty, I mean” — Hawks shrugs— “everyone thinks we’re dead anyway. Wait and see if we stay warm.”

“And if they find out you’re here? Then what?” You grimace, more at the idea of them disappearing than the consequences, but you also knew that you wouldn’t be able to financially handle the backlash.

They both stay silent, Hawks giving you a shaky smile. “Then… just a couple of days. Just to make sure we’re actually back.”

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

The next two days were unbearable

The tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife

The timing of the universe must have been lined up for this very moment, your first two days off in months leaving you stuck between them on the couch

Nobody said a word, not even when Bernadette made a surprise comeback in season 9

Thinking about constantly being alone again made your heart turn to ice 

But as it stood, all you had connecting you was the ghosting quirk and your FWB relationship

But as quick as it came, it was gone

The number of officials flooding your apartment and interrogating you was overwhelming, but Hawks and Shouto were quick to step in and explain

At least, everything they could anyway

According to the association, they couldn’t squeeze anything out of the villain responsible for changing Hawks and Shouto into ghosts

But once they confirmed that you were not a threat, they left you with a “light” warning

In other words: “Stay away. You’ve done enough”

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

Your house was so quiet, yet the T.V was on, your phone playing music, trying desperately to distract yourself with the book Shouto was reading. Nothing worked.

You still felt the way their presence lingered, practically permeated the room. You couldn’t sleep in your own bed anymore, sheets feeling far too warm. Sitting anywhere other than the middle seat on your couch made you feel like you were taking up someone’s space. Your kitchen seemed to have just a little too much space to move.

Two months pass since they’ve left, and it never seemed to get better. Rather than stressed, you just felt... tired. You wanted to feel anything but tired, but the echoes of their banter only reminded you that they were gone…

And you were alone once again.

You had no way of contacting them, and they were probably far too busy with the press to even think about the nobody girl who found them wandering.

Days blended together until it all came falling down. You fell into watching the news, the tabloids all celebrating the return of their favorite heroes Hawks and Shoto. Even Endeavor seemed uncharacteristically floored to see his son alive and well.

You laughed bitterly; ‘I would bet money on the fact that he probably rolled his eyes when he saw his father.’ wry smile on your lips.

Maybe another cup of coffee would be worthwhile.

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

You told yourself daily to just get over the unrequited feelings, yet you still yearned to see them every day.

You wished it were easier to pretend they were never here at all

Especially when they did it so well.

Though you supposed it was all the hero work talking.

You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the last season you’d been watching with them, memories still too fresh even if it’s been more than a couple of months since you touched it

Netflix did a wonderful job at reminding you constantly

Eventually, you stopped watching netflix too

But couldn’t bring yourself to stop paying for a subscription, naively believing they would be back to continue as if nothing changed

You loathed it

Yet it was the only illusion you had left

Until it wasn’t an illusion anymore

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

It’s half passed one in the morning when you hear a knock at your door, frantic and desperate. You stumble out off the couch, nearly ramming your body into the door in an attempt to peek through the peephole.

You couldn’t believe your eyes when a flash of crimson feathers crossed your vision.

You yank the door open, wondering if this was some sort of cruel dream when you’re brutally reminded that it’s not, and that Hawks is-- indeed-- standing in front of you. In the flesh.

“Hey birdie.” he starts, looking far too exhausted.

“Hawks…” you whisper breathless, lungs rattling in disbelief when you inhale.

“Yeah… it’s me. The calico wanted to be here too, but his dad wouldn’t let him out of the house.” he smiles, strained.

“Shouto… wait, why are you here?” you glance around his form nervously, expecting to see blood. He swallows a thick lump,

“Can’t a bird just come say hello?”

You wheeze, smile more like a grimace, but you step aside and let him in. He walks around, more than well acquainted with every corner. Fingers running over your furniture, as if he were still trying to feel the memories that lingered.

“S’ colder than I remember.” he whispers and you nod,

“Yeah… Heater broke some time last month. Still waiting for the landlord to get back to me.” he doesn’t reply, staring at your bedroom door.

It’s painfully silent, but you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you say something now. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, not with his back facing you. Then he turns, and suddenly you’re far too aware of all the words he has to say to you.

For the first time in months, you feel like you’re burning alive.

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

By the time Hawks was through with you, the sun was high in the sky.

You didn’t think you’d be able to say you got dicked down hard enough to stay stuck in bed, yet here you were

Stuck in bed

His fingers run through your hair, sweet words of adoration leaving his lips with every kiss he presses to your skin

You can hardly believe that Hawks is still here

Even after he’s spent all night and all morning fucking it into you

You don’t remember the number of times he’s whispered how much he’s missed you

How much he wanted you

How much he needed you

Yet here he was

Fingers rubbing into your skin how badly he needed you to be real

The blissful illusion broken by sharp knocking on your front door

Yet Hawks-- or rather Keigo, as he insists-- still smiles

“Hope you’re not too tired, birdie… Your day’s only just begun.”

You don’t know if you should be afraid or not.

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

“Shou--!” you’re cut off when he practically scrambles into your bed, lips smothering yours.

“Fuck, I missed you baby.” he growls against your lips, ‘I’m a little pissed the Chick-fil-a wannabe got to you first though.” “You’re still on that, huh.” Hawks muses, lazy grin on his lips when you squeal at the cold air hitting your skin, blanket gracelessly thrown to the side by the half-and-half hero.

“And you made a fuckin’ mess, asshole.” Shouto grumbles when he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, forcing your legs open. You can feel the way Keigo’s cum drips out of you, making you flush in embarrassment.

“Don’t… don’t stare, dammit.” you cover your face, knowing full well that he would never let you push his head away.

From experience, of course.

“Ruined such a pretty little pussy... “ you hear him mutter before his tongue is licking a wet stripe up the length of your pussy, circling around your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You’re still so sensitive, and you almost howl in sweet agony from the way your clit throbs and stings from the overstimulation.

“Whoops, can’t have you alerting the neighbors now can we?” Keigo says as he sits on the bed next to your head, stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

You can tell he’s only pretending to play it cool, his wings puffing out impressively the longer he watches your face twist and your eyes cross, moaning and humming around his fingers. You feel cold fingers press into you and you gasp, the temperature shock making your clench harder around them. “Oops, sorry. Should have warned you.” Shouto hums, not sounding the least bit sorry. His fingers press and coax the deepest parts of you, massaging your gummy walls. You arch and cry out, thankful that Keigo’s fingers were capable of muffling your noises.

“Geez, you’re wasting all my milk there, kitty cat.” you can hear the shit eating grin on his face, but it’s quick to drop when Shouto’s suddenly licking and sucking, slurping obscenely before pulling away and giving Keigo an unamused ‘meow’.

Keigo doesn’t respond, too shocked for his usual witty comebacks, but that doesn’t deter Shouto from trailing his warmer fingers up your body, pressing over your stomach.

The contrast between his cold fingers prodding around inside you and the warm ones pressing down on your tummy makes you breathless, cumming with a squeaky moan, thighs shaking around Shouto’s head. He chuckles, amused at the way you clench around his fingers, coaxing you through your orgasm until you slack against the bed.

You’re suddenly turned around, head hanging off the edge of the bed, still lying flat on your back.

“Wha…” you slur, attempting to look at Shouto who’s climbing on the bed, pulling your legs over  his hips when suddenly Keigo’s standing by your head, leaning down and planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Think you can take us both at the same time, hummingbird?” his cock is in his hand, stroking lazily. You swallow, chewing on your lip before nodding slowly.

You weren’t actually sure, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“Atta girl…” he praises, stroking your cheek gently before pressing the tip against your lips. You give it a cheeky little kiss to mask your own nerves, tongue poking out to tease him before your mouth drops open into a moan, the feeling of Shouto filling you up immediately distracting you.

“It’s not nice to tease, baby.” he teases you, hips smacking into yours rudely. You choke when Keigo fills your mouth, fighting to relax your throat.

You’re thankful that he’s at least taking some care to help support your head and neck, but your thoughts are quick to drift away as Shouto stuffs and stretches your cunt, nothing but grunts and hums leaving you as Keigo slowly fills your mouth.

“God, what a pretty sight birdie. Your little throat flexing around my cock.” he mutters, hand caressing the front of your throat, squeezing gently. You try to focus on keeping your breathing even, but it’s hard when Shouto continues to insist on fucking you so roughtly.

“Your cute little cunny looks so small, stretched around my fat cock baby.” he groans, only taking a short moment to savor the way his cock looks covered in your juices and some of Keigo’s leftover cum, almost immediately slamming into that spot that has your eyes crossing, stars flashing across your vision.

You lose complete track of time as they take you in every which way until suddenly you’re waking up, clean and tucked into bed. Hawks sits on your left, Shouto to your right. Hands caress your body sweetly, whispered words almost enough to distract you from the aching pain in your body.

“Sorry, sweetheart… we got carried away” Shouto kisses your knuckles gently, eyes gentle compared to the ferocity they had before.

“It’s been so long since we’ve been able to see you, touch you… I thought I was going to go crazy,” Keigo follows up.

You don’t think you could talk even if you tried, so you just squeeze their hands. They squeeze back silently, all three of you basking in each other's presence.

Something tells you that they won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

[queenofspades20]

Every Time You Leave

Synopsis: Steve Rogers and Reader are engaged. Steve has been on a longer mission and Reader misses him.

So, been thinking about writing this for awhile. This was inspired by Every Time You Leave by I Prevail. I just love this song. This was supposed to be something short and ended up as over 3k words (whoops). This is not suitable for those under 18. This is my first time writing smut, so sorry for any awkwardness. Did not originally intend on writing smut, but it just kinda happened.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, cursing

Word count: 3.2k

This is the song: https://youtu.be/5KDR0M-Edrg

Y/n and Steve were sitting on the couch together, watching a movie. They were at their home about 15 minutes from the compound. They had moved there a few months ago after Steve proposed. Steve wanted them to have their own space. Y/n was cuddled up to Steve, his arm around her shoulders. They had a blanket draped over their laps. Steve had just gotten back from a 3 week mission a few hours ago. Y/n had missed her fiancé fiercely. She couldn’t stop looking up at his face, still not believing he was finally home.

Steve had a soft smile. “You’re staring, Sweetheart.”

“Can’t help it. Missed you so much. I always feel like a piece of me is missing while you’re gone on missions.” Y/n felt tears burning in her eyes. She placed her head in the crook of his neck and hugged him tight.

Steve felt his heart break. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Y/n quickly looked up, sensing his distress. “I don’t say it to make you feel bad. I know it’s your job and I am so proud of all the good you do. And, as long as you love what you do and it makes you happy, I support you 100 percent.”

Steve placed a kiss on Y/n’s forehead. “I know. And I want you to talk to me when you’re feeling like this. I just want to know how I got so lucky as to have such a wonderful woman like you.”

Y/n snorted. “I think I’m the lucky one here. As that guy at the Apple store said,” Y/n leaned back to gesture at Steve. “Specimen.”

Steve started uncontrollably laughing. “I wish I never told you that story. That was so awkard.”

Y/n’s eyes sparkled at Steve’s laughter. “Seriously, Steve, you are kind, smart, funny, and just all around wonderful. Part of me wishes to go back to the 40s to slap some sense into those girls for never giving you a chance. But, their loss, my gain.”

“You’re just saying that because you love me. I wasn’t much to look at before the serum.”

“Uh, Steve, I saw pictures. You were gorgeous. Your smile and eyes are my favorite features of yours. Those girls were too stupid to see the amazing guy you are.”

Steve felt his cheeks heat up. “Yup, I’m the lucky one, Doll.” He quickly pulled her close and started placing numerous kisses all over her face. Y/n squealed and squirmed.

“Steve!” Y/n yelled, laughing.

The blanket fell to the floor as Steve maneuvered them to laying down on the couch, with Steve hovering over Y/n. He grabbed her hands and held them above her head. He looked down at her with a smile. Y/n moved her leg so it was hitched onto Steve’s hip.

“Kiss me,” Y/n said with love in her eyes. She was smiling softly.

“With pleasure.” Steve leaned down and touched his lips to Y/n’s, softly at first. The kiss quickly became heated, Steve still holding her hands above her head with one hand. He moved his other hand along her body. Y/n let out a little moan and ground her hips against his.

Steve gripped Y/n’s hip and let more of his weight fall onto her. He broke the kiss and started kissing down her neck. When he found her sweet spot, Y/n started to let out a loud moan. She quickly bit her lip to keep the noise down. Steve moved his hand to cup her jaw, his thumb pulling her lip from her teeth. He looked deep in her eyes, his desire darkening his eyes.

“I want to hear those moans, Baby girl. Don’t hold back.” He quickly went back to her sweet spot, determined to make her come undone. His hand made its way down Y/n’s body and moved to her ass. Steve ground his hips into Y/n’s, nipping just under her jaw.

“Fuck, Steve.” Y/n moaned. “I need to touch you.” She tried pulling her hands from Steve’s steel grip, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Not yet, Baby. I wanna make you feel good,” Steve asked, his lips next Y/n’s ear. His hand moved to the front of her shorts and slipped in, reaching down into her panties. His finger slipped into her folds, feeling her wetness. Steve groaned. “Already so wet for me.” His pointer finger teased her clit, sending electricity through her body.

“Steve!” Y/n panted. Her hips bucked up into his hand. “More, please!”

Steve slid his finger into her heat. His palm rubbed against her clit. “More? How many fingers can you take?” Steve asked as he slid another finger in.

“Oh fuck, Steve!”

“So tight around my fingers.” Steve started to pump his fingers in and out. Y/n’s hips moving with his hand.

“Steve please! I need you.” Y/n begged. Steve’s scent filled her senses. He kissed her while rubbing against her G-spot. “Please! I can’t wait for you.”

Steve let go of her hands, reaching down to take off her shorts. Y/n immediately put her hands in his hair, pulling him close for a desperate kiss. One of her hands reached down and undid his pants, reaching in to pull his cock out. She ran her thumb over his tip, spreading the precum that had dribbled out. Steve ripped her shorts and panties off quickly. Y/n gasped at the action.

“Steve! I liked those shorts!”

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He hitched her leg over his hip and guided his cock to her slick heat. His cock nudged against her clit. They both moaned at the feeling. With one quick thrust, Steve sheathed himself into Y/n.

Y/n’s back arched into him, her fingers clawing down his back. “Oh my God, Steve!”

Steve stayed still for a few moments, letting Y/n get used to him. She clenched her walls to let him know he could move. Steve started a slow pace, quickly gaining speed.

“Harder, Steve! Please!”

Steve started thrusting harder at her pleas. “Like that, Baby?”

“Oh God, Steve! Just like that!” Y/n threw her head back in pleasure. She moved her hips to take him deeper. “You feel so good!” she moaned out.

“Am I filling you up, Baby? You missed my cock?”

“Yes!” Y/n could feel tears filling her eyes, overwhelmed by how good Steve felt in her.

“Fuck, Y/n. I’m not gonna last long. You feel too good.” Steve reached down and harshly rubbed circled on her clit to bring her to her high. His pace stuttered slightly, signaling how close he was.

Y/n could feel the pressure building. “I’m not gonna last much longer either, Baby.”

With three more thrusts, they came together, Steve’s cock shooting hot spurts of his seed deep inside Y/n’s womb. Y/n could feel him twitching inside her. Steve crashed his lips to Y/n’s, his tongue immediately entering her mouth. He slowed his hips down to draw out the pleasure. They broke the kiss, looking into each other eyes.

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Steve. I feel bad for asking this, but maybe no more missions for maybe a month? As much as I enjoy our reunion sex, I would like to have more time with you, especially since we’re supposed to be planning a wedding.” Y/n felt shy in asking.

Steve felt guilt settle in his stomach. “I’m sorry, Darling. I know I’ve been called away a lot lately. I’ll make the request first thing tomorrow.”

“I don’t want you to get into trouble and I know you’re valued. I just, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I won’t get in trouble. This last mission was pretty hard on me. I think with how hard I’ve been working, I deserve some time to spend with my amazing fiancée.”

Y/n threw her arms around his shoulders, her face in his neck. “Thank you, Steve. As long as it won’t be a problem.”

“Of course it won’t. They’ll understand. Now, let’s head to bed, shall we? I think I need a few more rounds of reunion sex.” Steve nipped just below Y/n’s jaw.

“You read my mind.”

Steve pulled out of Y/n and stood up. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to bed, where he made up for his absence several more times.

The next morning Steve walked into the compound, looking for Tony. He had a speech ready to explain why he was taking time off. He had figured since everyone knew he and Y/n were getting married, taking some time to just stick with training and not going on missions for awhile would not cause any problems.

As he walked into Tony’s lab, Tony looked up from where he was sitting. “Hey Capsicle. I hope you brought your suit, we leave for a mission in 4 hours.”

“What are you talking about, Tony? I just got back yesterday. I can’t go on another mission right now.”

“Sorry, Fury’s orders. Last minute thing. We’re all ordered to go.” Tony paused, seeing the distress on Steve’s face. “I know you just got back. If it makes you feel better, this mission is only supposed to be a few days.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel better. When was anyone going to tell me about this mission? Am I really needed?”

“Unfortunately yes. And Fury told us about it last night, but we knew you were home with Y/n and didn’t want to disturb you. Give you at least one night uninterrupted.” Tony approached with a manila folder. “Here’s the mission brief.”

Steve wiped his hand down his face and took the folder. “How am I supposed to do this to Y/n? I promised her I would take a break.” He flipped through the pages in his hand, seeing that he was, in fact, needed for this mission.

Tony looked at his friend. While he normally would make a sarcastic comment, he didn’t feel like kicking Steve while he was already down. “We’ll try to keep the mission as short as possible. I suggest you run home to get your suit and break the news to Y/n.”

“After this mission, I’m done. No more missions.”

Steve felt his stomach drop. He couldn’t get Y/n’s face from last night out of his head. He knew she wasn’t going to be happy. Steve made his way home. As he walked up to the front door of his and Y/n’s home, Steve felt nothing but dread. He didn’t want to disappoint her. Steve opened the door, hearing Y/n in the kitchen.

“Steve? Is that you?”

“Hey, Baby.” Steve walked to the kitchen. Y/n was placing a tray of cookies on the counter.

“You were gone less than an hour. Did you decide to take the day off altogether?”

“I, um. I don’t know how to tell you this, Baby.” Steve couldn’t look Y/n in the eyes. He felt so horrible.

“What is it?” Y/n looked at Steve with concern. She moved near him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I leave for a mission in a few hours. I walked in to tell them I was taking time for us and got handed the brief. I have to go.” Steve felt miserable.

Y/n blinked away tears. Trying to keep her composure, she looked at Steve’s face. She could see how upset he was. “Oh.” Y/n tried not to sound too disappointed. She didn’t want to make this harder for Steve than it already was.

Steve felt his heart break. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry. I know we had that talk last night and I’m already disappointing you. I’m so sorry.”

Y/n could feel Steve’s tears drop onto her head. She hugged him back. “It’s the life of a superhero. Sometimes your life isn’t your own and you have to save people.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.” Y/n lifted her head. Steve still couldn’t look at her, so she put her hands on his cheeks and moved his head so she could look into his eyes. “I can’t say I’m happy you’re leaving so soon after just getting back, but I know it’s part of your job. I know you don’t want to go.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Steve, it’s not about deserving. I love you. And like I said last night, I support you. How long will you be gone for this one?”

“Tony said a few days. We’ll try to get it done faster.”

“Well, as much as I want you back with me sooner rather than later, please be safe. Don’t be reckless because you want to come home. As hard as it is when you’re away, I don’t know if I could handle it if you never came back. I’d lose a piece of me that I could never get back.”

Steve smiled softly. “I’ll always come home to you, Doll.” He kissed her softly. “I gotta get my stuff,” he said sadly.

They let go of each other. Steve went into their room to pack his bag and suit up. Y/n turned to the cookies she had made as a surprise for Steve that night and put some in a container. As she was finishing up in the kitchen, Steve appeared in the doorway. Y/n stared at him, trying not to cry. She made her way over to him and pulled him into a hug. Steve buried his face into Y/n’s neck.

“Promise me you’ll be safe.”

“I promise.”

“Just a few days?”

“If not sooner. I’m so sorry.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Y/n said as she looked into his eyes. “You have a job, a very difficult job. All I want is for you to be safe and to come home to me.”

“I will.” Steve pulled her in for a dramatic kiss, a tradition they started after Y/n had commented that she loved the idea of a big Hollywood-style kiss. Steve started doing a dramatic kiss when he left and when he came home. As always, when he pulled away, Y/n had a big smile on her face.

“I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Steve left and made his way to the compound. He boarded the quinjet with his teammates.

 Two weeks later, Steve still had not come home. Y/n was worried. Since the whole team was on the mission, she had no one to call for news. And Steve also didn’t have access to his phone, per usual.

“A few days my ass. I swear, I’m going to punch those assholes for lying.” Y/n had taken to pacing in the living room. Even though she had work to keep her busy during the days, at nights, she couldn’t help her thoughts running wild. She had no idea if Steve or the team were okay.

Though she had been okay for the first few days Steve was gone, the longer it went without word from him, the harder it was to sleep or even eat. Y/n knew she had probably lost a couple of pounds. She would eat what she could but just couldn’t eat a full meal. Her stomach was in knots with stress. Looking at the clock, Y/n saw it was late. She decided to just go lay down, even if she couldn’t sleep. Y/n grabbed one of Steve’s shirts to sleep in and crawled into bed. She pulled Steve’s pillow closer to her body and spritzed some of Steve’s cologne on the pillow. It helped having his scent near her, even if it wasn’t anywhere near as good as the real thing. Y/n felt the tears come, as they did every night. She was so caught up in her crying, that she failed to hear the front door open.

Steve was exhausted and pissed. He couldn’t believe that the mission took so long. Luckily, the mission was successful and the worst injuries were some cuts and bruises. But all he could think about was getting home to Y/n. He had already spoken with Fury and Tony, who agreed to give him two months of guaranteed no missions, so he could spend quality time with Y/n. When he walked into their home, he could hear Y/n crying in their bedroom. Steve never felt so horrible as he did in that moment. He set his gear down and started stripping off his tac suit as he made his way to the bedroom. He was so determined to get home to Y/n, that he didn’t shower or change. He walked over to the bed and sat down, startling Y/n.

“Steve!” Y/n sat up and moved to pull him into a hug. “What the hell?”

Steve held her tight, moving her body to straddle his, so he could hold her as close as possible. He could feel her tears on his chest. “The mission went sideways. Our intel wasn’t good. We got what we needed done, but we had to get the proper intel first before we could move in. I’m so sorry. We couldn’t get word out.”

“Were you injured? Was anyone injured?”

“Just a few cuts and bruises, but nothing serious.”

Y/n cuddled as close to Steve as she could. After a few moments, “Steve?” Y/n sounded hesitant.

“Yes, Darling?”

“I, um. I was wondering, did you, um, did you ask to get some time without missions?”

Steve pulled back slightly and smiled at her. “I have a guarantee of at least two months without missions. They will have to do it without me. And I’m taking the next week off so we have time together. No work. Even if you can’t get that time off, I’ll be here, waiting for you every evening.”

Y/n smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “Good. I can at least take tomorrow off. I’m sure we both need some rest. I couldn’t really sleep without you here.”

Steve’s face fell, which Y/n rushed to assure him not to feel guilty. “Baby, don’t feel guilty. You couldn’t help what happened with the mission.”

“Still…”

“No, Steve. I’m just happy you’re home. That’s all I really wanted. What do you say we take a nice hot bath, cause, Sweetheart, you kinda smell.”

Steve looked a little sheepish. “I just wanted to get home to you. I didn’t shower.”

Y/n laughed. “I kind of guessed, as you’re still wearing your tac pants. So, what do you say? Bath?”

Steve just stood up, supporting Y/n in his arms. He carried her over to the bathroom. He set her on the counter and turned to start the bath. Y/n reached around his waist and undid his pants, helping him out of them while the tub filled with steaming water. Y/n grabbed the lavender bath bomb from the jar she had on the counter and dropped it in. Steve then helped her out of her clothes. Once the tub was filled, Steve stepped in and sat down. Y/n stepped in and settled with her back against Steve’s chest. Steve’s arms came around her and held her close.

“I missed you, Y/n.” Steve placed a kiss on Y/n’s temple.

“I missed you too, Steve.” Y/n leaned her head and kissed Steve’s jaw. “My missing piece is home.”

[pen-paper-and-ink]

Champagne Problems

Chapter One

Masterlist

Rowan Whitethorn hated the sound of his alarm.  The blaring sound would wail and wail and wail until he finally was awake enough to turn the stupid clock off.  When he finally got around to doing so, he already decided that the day was shot to hell. He was way too hungover to get up this early, or to get out of bed at all, but he knew we couldn’t bail on his plans for the morning.  

           Taking a morning run was usually Rowan’s favorite time of the day.  It was a habit he had kept for around two years now, and he did not plan on breaking it any time soon, even with the news he received the previous night. Every morning he met Aelin on campus by the library so they could start their five-mile run and hopefully they could both relieve some the stress the upcoming day was sure to bring.  

           Aelin was Rowan’s best friend, but he had been seeing her less and less the last few months, as she spent more and more time with her boyfriend.  Rowan didn’t mind Sam, he really didn’t, but he missed the uninterrupted time he spent with his best friend.  This now made mornings his favorite time of the day, because it was just him and Aelin and the ground beneath their feet.

           Rowan groaned as he got up, and slowly shuffled his way through his room, pulling on a t-shirt and athletic shorts, while blinding reaching into his dresser for socks so he could put on his sneakers. He finally made it out of his apartment, water bottle in hand and slow walked down the block to where he would meet Aelin for their morning run.  The pounding in his head made the walk a million times longer than it usually was, but he powered through.  He knew he needed to put his best foot forward today, or Aelin would surely leave him in the dust.  

           The walk to the library thankfully woke him up and he was antsy and full of jitters as he finally made it to their meeting place. With the events of last night fully on his mind, he was jumping in place fully ready for the run to soothe and and hopefully empty his mind from the news he received.  Rowan had half a mind to start the run now and leave Aelin behind, but he knew he couldn’t, he would regret missing their time together, and it would seem suspicious, and the last thing he needed to do right now was make Aelin suspicious.

Rowan’s mind flashed to the night before.  Sam, Lorcan, Fenrys, Conall, and him all went to a local bar to get a few drinks after finishing their math final.  The school year was coming to a close, it was also their senior year, though Rowan was already enrolled into the masters program come next semester. He was riding high, he was ready to graduate, and excited for the next step in his schooling, it also helped that he was among friends and ready to celebrate.  They had a few rounds, when they finally got to talking about their plans for after graduation.

Fenrys and Conall still had another year to go, but decided to finish up their math requirements early, but were excited to talk about their plans for the upcoming year. Lorcan already had a job lined up, and they all new Rowan was excited about starting his masters program.  Then it finally came around to Sam, they all new Sam was also going to be starting his master program the next year, but it was when he began talking about Aelin, Rowan finally felt sick.  Sam planned to propose come the end of the school year, before he started his masters program.  He was going to ask Aelin to marry him.  Rowan knew he should be excited for his best friend, but instead he felt sick.  His skin felt too tight, and it was hot in the room, but he nodded his head encouragingly.

It took some time for Rowan to figure out that he was in love with Aelin, he hadn’t figured it out until six months prior when they were joking on her couch watching some shitty movie, but by that time she was already with Sam and seemed happy, so he kept the words down. Until last night, Rowan had always held a shred of hope that Aelin’s relationship with Sam may not last, that he would be the one to marry her instead, but as Sam showed him the ring, he knew his hope was pointless. Aelin would marry Sam, and be blissfully happy, which she deserved but it didn’t make Rowan hurt any less.

Rowan was finally startled out of his thoughts as Aelin came bounding down the sidewalk, flashing a cheeky smile as she called out to him.  

“Hey, Buzzard! It seems like your lost in thought.” Rowan tried to smile, but he knew it came out more like a grimace.  Aelin just laughed and said, “looks like someone had a little too much to drink last night.” As she winked.

Rowan finally replied, “can we just get going now,” he sighed.  Aelin just shot him a smile as she bounded off, having no idea what was actually on Rowan’s mind as he worked to catch up to her.

*This is my first fic, so any advice is much appreciated.  Thank you for reading ;)

(this is based off the song Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift)

[lizacstuff]

SCK episode 46 asks!

Hi folks, below the read more you'll find a smattering of asks about this week's episode as well as a few spoilers for 47.

Good asks this week:

(under the cut)

Anonymous asked: this may be superficial of me, but why are they dressing Serkan in such ugly tops? they finally brought Eda's hair back but now this

BWAH! You're not wrong. You know what I'm wondering, if they've put him in some of those outfits because they are showing his suburban dad side? It's kind of a subtle nod to him embracing father hood and a different way of life? He's now all about running around the yard after his daughter and not about what he looks like when he's being SERKAN BOLAT, FAMOUS BUSINESS MAN and WORLD'S BEST ARCHITECT.

Also, Eda's hair, thank goodness they let that go once the flashbacks were over and we didn't need something to distinguish between then and now! Those curly bangs were not it.

Anonymous asked: They built up the Edser chemistry soooooo well throughout the episode... for that ending? Who decided to cut it there?! The scene was BEAUTIFUL I’m actually upset lol. are not we going to see any more? I’m not asking for a sex scene, I wanted to see THE moment they decided to get back together (the tattoo line doesn’t do it for me) - a few words, tears as they embrace, him walking through the door as she closes it, one passionate kiss, something! But it doesn’t feel like a cliffhanger that continues next week. I’ll be so underwhelmed when they cut to the morning after and we have to infer that they got back together overnight *sigh* if they were allowed 1 kiss only, id rather it have been here instead of ep 2

We do deserve to see how they reconcile, that should be one of the biggest moments of the season after 7 episodes of build up to it.

90% of final scenes in this show have continued uninterrupted the next week. To me there's no reason to think the next episode won't pick up right where this one left off. Crossing fingers!

Anonymous asked: It just hit me that Serkan is the “Kiraz” for Kemal - but Kemal actually missed his child’s whole 35 years 😬 this is an interesting turn of events. Also that line Serkan said about how fathers should love their child’s mother and how he didn’t have that with his own parents....but his real dad does love Aydan, more than she deserves haha.

Oh so true! Kemal really does love his mother more than she deserves! How he puts up with her, I don't know.

The parallel between Serkan/Kemal and Kiraz/Serkan is strong and I hope it gives Serkan some perspective when he starts grappling with this knowledge. I'm sure it's going to be very disconcerting for him, because while he expected to never see his father again, Alptekin is still his father. He's still the man who raised him and formed him into the man he is. Serkan still runs the company he founded and bears his name.

I don't expect any of that to change, but hopefully he can forge a separate relationship with Kemal that might fill some emotional holes that he has and bring him some peace.

None of that even contemplates how Kemal will feel, thankfully Aydan didn't willfully hide the truth from him. How awful to realize you lost 35 years.

We aren't there yet, but I wonder at what age with Kiraz learn the truth, that her dad is not an astronaut, that her parents went through hell with with cancer and plane crashes, and that her father didn't know of her existence until right before they met?

Just something to think about.

Anonymous asked: i'm so happy for hanker, don't get me wrong, and i'm also so happy we get "together" edser for so many episodes until the end, but i'm already tired of the constant "hanker improvising" comments i know i will be seeing. not that they don't improvise in some scenes, but i just know that every romantic edser scene is gonna be analyzed to hell bc ppl want to look for hanker in them. like there's no possible way that ayse, the writer ppl hate the most, could write any romantic scenes.. nope no way!

Yes, this is one of my pet peeves, I can't stand the "Edser left the chat" and all the "that's Hanker, not Edser" type conversation. it's so invasive and most of all disrespectful to not only the writers, but Hande and Kerem and all the work they pour into bringing Eda and Serkan to life.

One of the things in fandom that sets my teeth on edge is when folks take some interpretation of the character by the actor and then decide because it wasn't "scripted" (pro tip the vast majority of physical movements the actors make are "unscripted") that it must just be the actors themselves and have nothing to do with the characters. What an embarrassing and naïve assertion. Actors literal job is to take what's on the page and then translate that. So, no, OF COURSE, every look and touch is not scripted. The actors interpret how their characters would think and feel, and what they would do in given moments and then do those things.

Eda is not touching Serkan's arm just because Hande can't hold herself back from touching Kerem. Puh-lease, they are professionals. Grow up.

However, having said all that, I do think there was one scene that seemed to be very improvised this episode. The bean scene in the grocery store did feel like them just eFFing around. LOL.

andhewonherheart asked: @andhewonherheart: SCK promo department is best and worst all at the same time, cause giving away the last (cliffhanger) scene in fragman is just cruel. But based on the next week’s fragman thing happens that we we think happens *wink*

Hee! So true. The thing I'm grateful for is that in season 2 not one fragman has made me dread the episode, I think there was at least one fragman an episode from 29-37 that was hella upsetting.

As far as I'm concerned these fragmans are doing there job, making me want to watch.

I am really excited for Serkan planning how he's going to ask Eda to marry him, I wonder what Kiraz's reaction is going to be. So far she's been their very own cupid!

Anonymous asked: I didn't find it surprising that Serkan removed his tattoo as soon as Eda left. His logic is always out of sight out of mind though it doesn't work. He did the same when he broke up with her when he found out about the death of her parents. He removed all of her belongings. But their memories are too strong and enough for him to continue to remember her.

Truth! Will he ever learn that it's never going to work? He'll never be able to erase Eda, she has left an indelible mark on his soul. Let's hope he's never faced with that situation again! From here on out, he and Eda are together, a unit, and will live a long life together and in love.

Anyone have any guesses where Eda's tattoo is? Will we find out or will it remain between the characters.

Anonymous asked: I've seen some people say that Edser are getting married now way too fast and to that I just have to laugh lol. First there were complaints we don't have happy Edser and now when we do, of course there's something else. These two have had a rollercoaster of a year when they first met and a five year separation.. they've been through the dating phase, the engaged phase.. of course they'll head straight to the altar! It's not like Eda's plane proposal and that first wedding wasn't rushed either!

I'm on team head straight to the alter! No more waiting. They've had terrible luck, so they just need to tie the knot and make sure there are no easy outs.

As for people who think it's too fast, they don't even know the storyline yet, I swear there are folks who complain just because that's their personality and they're never satisfied.

Anonymous asked: From some of the spoilers of BTS pics, and the fragman we got, I was just reflecting on this season and Turk romcom dizis in general and I just wanted to say how LUCKY we are to see Edser married (again, from spoilers) and with a kid on screen for more than just 10 minute at the end of the finale. Like, it is really rare and as much as people have nitpicked on this season in general, I feel like watching these last episodes have been such a breeze after the last arc of S1.

Oh agreed, I think these episodes have been very enjoyable. The writers are giving me exactly what I want from this show. Comedy, UST, romance with a little light angst thrown in now and again. I would rewatch this season a dozen times before even thinking about watching anything from the 30s.

We are very lucky that we've got to see them as parents, and actually forming their family. We've gotten so much domestic goodness so far and we still have a ways to go. I'm very appreciative of this season and that Ayse came back, got rid of the constant ridiculous melodrama for melodrama's-sake and is telling a very human story about family and love persevering.

Anonymous asked: the last scene gave me chills for some reason. you could actually see eda fighting her head and her heart and deciding to take the step (metaphorically and physically!) towards him for good. i wanna SUE whoever decided to end it the ep there though.. it was actually cruel. also looking at the next frag.. it makes my heart soft that in the flashbacks we see serkan pushing off their wedding bc of his fears and now he can't propose and get married fast enough.. can't believe we're really getting it

I know, it's almost surreal at this point. Since we're near the end we know it's for real and won't be ruined by psychos or awful family members or terminal illness. I just hope that they give us an emotional scene when they get married, whether its just them or the whole cast is there as guests, after everything they've (we've) been through we need to see them both feeling that moment and reveling in it.

FYI - I'm out of town next weekend, so I may be slower than usual in replying to asks and in posting gifs of 47, but I'll get to it all eventually!

[couvers]

4 & 9 for the dialogue prompts with percabeth !! any time period works<3

4. “Stop laughing.”

9. “This is your fault.”

It had been Percy's idea. He should have known it was a bad one, though he wasn't quite sure he could completely call it bad. His bad idea had resulted in uninterrupted Annabeth time, which alone should have made it a good idea.

That time had become increasingly difficult to come by since graduation, between Percy's intensive training schedule and Annabeth focusing on getting Piper through the breakup. Sometimes, lately, it felt like they were living worlds apart. Percy didn't begrudge Annabeth the fact they had less time for each other, especially since it was mostly because of him and she'd already taken the entire summer off just for sake of being around to support him, and he knew they'd get through it once his competition season ended, but he really did miss her.

Relationships were a two way street, though, and Percy wasn't about to let a pesky thing like always being sore and exhausted get in the way of his making an effort, because Annabeth had made a massive effort the last few weeks – basically living at his beck and call even while also balancing Piper’s needs; waking up to see him off every morning even on the mornings she was exhausted from having her sleep interrupted by Piper’s nightmares; doing chores for both of them while he trained so he didn't have to worry about anything when he got home at night.

On his way home the Friday before he and Annabeth would be leaving for Omaha, Percy had the perfect opportunity to make that effort, because Piper intended to stay at work late making up for what she’d missed after her emergency trip to Malibu. Percy also knew Annabeth was still a little shaken from Luke’s surprise visit the night before, no matter how hard she tried to put up a strong front. Hell, he was still shaken over that visit. They both needed this time alone together.

Confident in his plan, Percy stopped at the store to pick up a few things he knew they didn't have at the apartment, but would need. Getting Annabeth and Piper’s pantry in working order had been a massive task over the last few months, a constant work in progress that had him at the store more often than should ever be necessary. It didn't take long, though, and soon he stepped through the front door to discover her sprawled out on the couch, looking like an absolute vision in his NYU Swimming hoodie and a pair of shorts.

Before Annabeth could even get the question out, Percy held up his bag from the store and said, “Let’s bake cookies.”

“I don’t feel like burning the apartment down tonight,” Annabeth replied, staring at his bag in much the same way someone would look at an active bomb timer. She wasn’t too far off the mark, honestly.

“I will make sure you don’t burn anything down,” he assured her, kicking off his shoes and dropping his duffle bag by the door. Piper was probably going to yell at him for it when she got home, but that was a problem for later. Hopefully by then they would have cookies to placate her.

When Annabeth continued to stare at him and the bag with plain disdain, he lifted it again, shook it, and curled his bottom lip into an exaggerated pout. “Please?”

“That’s never worked when Piper’s tried it on me and it’s not going to work when you do it, either,” she said, but it was a lie. He’d seen Piper’s pitiful expressions work on her before and he could see her resolve wavering right there on the couch, too. A second later she groaned and set her phone on the coffee table. “Fine.”

Her mood improved quickly once they were in the kitchen. There were countless excuses to touch her, which Percy had been counting on, and Annabeth didn’t mind him wrapping his arms around her from behind and directing her hands as she measured ingredients based on the recipe from his mom on his phone. About halfway through preparing the dough she got overheated and peeled off her (his) sweater, and Percy had the added bonus of enjoying the view of her in nothing more than a dark blue camisole instead. He seriously loved his girlfriend in blue, and it matched perfectly with the shade their hands turned when they added a few drops of food coloring to the dough at the end of the prep process.

Once the first batch had been put in the oven, Annabeth and her blue hands started munching on leftover chocolate chips, tossing the occasional chip in Percy’s direction to catch in his mouth. Most of them landed on the floor, so he decided to give up on the game. Instead he crossed to where she leaned against the counter. Percy used his blue hands to lift her onto the counter and they wasted the last few minutes of bake time enjoying the hint of chocolate on each other’s lips instead.

“No, forget about them,” Annabeth whined when he pulled away at the sound of their timer going off.

“That’s how you burn the apartment down, Beth,” he replied with a throaty chuckle, though he wasn’t too happy about the interruption, either. She stuck her tongue out at him.

Percy placed the first batch on the cooling rack and slipped the second batch into the oven, not at all surprised that Annabeth remained seated on the counter behind him, just watching. Her arms were around him instantly when he returned to her, and this time they spent the whole eight minutes of bake time on hungry lips, teasing tongues, and wandering blue hands. For the first time in his almost twenty-three years of life, Percy felt like cookies baked too fast. He definitely wasn’t ready to pull away from her again when the timer went off a second time.

“Can we try them yet?” she asked, once he’d set the second batch to cool, still watching from the counter.

“An hour ago you didn’t even want to do this,” Percy reminded her, testing one of the cookies from the first batch with his finger to make sure it had cooled enough. In his eyes, the cookies looked just about perfect. Sally Jackson would be proud, and he had half a mind to take a picture and send it to her. They had talked at length about the sorry state of Annabeth’s kitchen experience.

Annabeth nodded, not even bothering to deny the truth, and kicked her heels against the cabinet beneath her. “But I did do it, so now I deserve to reap the rewards of my hard work.”

“Your hard work? I did most of the work here,” he objected, though he picked up two cookies and came to stand between her dangling legs. This time there would be no timer to call him away, and he definitely looked forward to enjoying the taste of their cookies on her mouth.

“My hands are blue,” she told him, snapping one of the cookies out of his hand. “I earned this.”

“Don’t worry, I’m an expert at washing food coloring off skin,” Percy replied, smiling when she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. Neither of them bothered to say another word before biting into their cookies.

He really wished he had not bitten into that cookie. Overpowering just about every other flavor was salt. Just salt. Like the whole cookie was salt and nothing else, not even chocolate chips. Both of them choked on their bites, faces scrunching up in twin expressions of disgust. Percy had time to run to the trash to spit it out, but Annabeth had to spit the thing straight into her hand. As she slipped off the counter to dump her handful of half chewed cookie in the trash, Percy went to the fridge for a bottle of water and guzzled half of it down.

Annabeth immediately reached for the bottle as soon as he’d finished taking his first drink, following his example, and it was then Percy burst into laughter. She shoved his shoulder gently as swished a little water around in her mouth and he laughed harder. “Stop laughing!”

“What did you do?” he asked, getting another shove when he continued to laugh.

“Me?” she replied, pointing to herself and shaking her head. “This is your fault.”

“You were the one who measured everything out.”

“You were supposed to be watching me so this wouldn’t happen – and stop laughing.”

Percy couldn’t have stopped laughing if he wanted to, and he kind of didn’t even want to. “I just don’t understand how you got so much salt in them.”

Her eye twitched, the adorable and sexy little twitch that had entranced him the first time they’d spoken months before and had only become more endearing with time. Annabeth tossed the emptied plastic bottle at him and turned on her heel to storm away. “This is why I didn’t even want to make the stupid cookies!”

“Beth, wait,” Percy called after her, easily catching up to her two step head start. He slipped his arms around her waist from behind and held tight, her halfhearted struggle to escape no use and only making him laugh more. “I’ll bake another batch for you. You can just sit and watch from the counter.”

“It’s too late,” she grumbled. “You ruined cookies.”

“I’ll make dinner, too,” he continued, leaning down to press his lips against her neck. The first time he’d made her eye twitch like that, he’d had to walk away. Now when he did it – and he did it pretty often – he got to enjoy the process of appeasing her, and the exceptionally good mood that always followed.

Annabeth considered his offer carefully, tilting her head to the side to allow him better access to her neck in the meantime, which he took full advantage of. “On one condition,” she decided.

“What’s that?” Percy asked against her skin, a smile pulling at his lips.

“You have to wear your apron,” Annabeth said firmly.

His smile grew a little wider. “That’s not much of a condition.”

“Only your apron,” she amended, her voice smug and taunting, a challenge to test his resolve. It seemed they’d transitioned from eye twitching mad to exceptionally good mood unusually fast that evening.

God, did he love her.

[queercapwriting]

I haven't seen a good Fitzskimmons in a while, so if we could get something with them Cap that'd be great. Maybe juggling the holiday traditions Fitz and Simmons are used to with the desire to create new ones for Skye/Daisy whose upbringing didn't really lend itself to great holiday memories?

It was her first Christmas season with the team, and she felt more out of place than usual.

“Why is Fitz...” Skye tilted her head, unsure how to finish her question. Apparently, Simmons didn’t find that unusual. Of course she didn’t - completing someone else’s sentences was completely normal for her. And there she went.

“Locked in his bunk with a great big Do Not Enter sign on it, blasting heavy metal Christmas music?” Simmons supplied. 

Skye squinted and bit her bottom lip. “Yes?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him. It’s just something he does every holiday season. He used to transform his room in the Academy into a little Santa’s workshop. The things he invents during the holiday season... One year, he made me a self-sustaining...”

Skye lost track of Simmons’ excited stream of words and stories and memories.

She didn’t have anything like that. And Fitz-Simmons already had their own holiday traditions, it seemed.

May and Coulson probably did, too.

Best if she just left well enough alone.

So she smiled and nodded and acted suitably impressed when it seemed appropriate.

Skye didn’t realize that Simmons noticed. No one ever had before, so why should anybody now?

Skye didn’t realize that Simmons cracked the holiday lock on Fitz’s door (she might be biochem, not engineering, but she knew how to apply Skye’s algorithms when she needed to) and sat on his bed, patiently ignoring his red face and stammering so she could explain that they needed to make extra sure that Skye feels welcome during her first Christmas on the bus.

And Skye had no way of knowing that Fitz’s eyes had lit up, because he was already on it.

She had fully prepared herself to wake up on Christmas morning in a certified mood. Fully prepared herself to put on a fake smile as she watched everyone else do their thing, then throw herself headlong into some assignment that could definitely wait, but that she’d treat like it was the most urgent thing on the planet.

She had not, in any way, prepared herself for Fitz-Simmons to wake her up by pounding on her door, shouting about Christmas and Santa Claus before rapidly descending into a loud discussion of the physics of reindeer-led sleighs and faster than light travel.

She yanked her door open, not caring that her hair was a mess, not caring that her t-shirt was rumpled from sleep, not remembering that she had only boy shorts, and no pants.

“The one day off we’ve had in centuries, and you’re waking me up because - “

“Because we have all these presents for you, Skye!” Fitz said, Santa hat yanked down over his ears, remote controls in his hands, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jemma tugged her into a tight, full-bodied hug that made Skye gulp and - she couldn’t help it - rest her cheek on Jemma’s shoulder, just for a second, just for a moment.

She didn’t know what to say as Jemma took her hand - she gulped again - and dragged her through the bus to where Fitz had set up a massive tree overnight, stacked high with gifts, a full quarter of them for Skye.

A fully functional, impeccably accurate model of her van. (From Fitz, with proud support and car nerdery assistance from Coulson.)

The most souped-up laptop she could ever imagine (and she imagined a lot), completely customized to her, down to her preferred typing patterns and with a keypad molded to her own hands. (From Fitz, with enthusiastic input from Simmons.)

A perfectly rendered painting of what the night sky(e) would look like from LA, without all the light pollution. (No one took credit for this one, but May actually smiled, like fully smiled, when Skye looked at her with tears in her eyes).

“You’re part of the family now, Skye,” Fitz told her when he tugged his own Santa hat off her head and placed it on hers.

“No escaping it now,” Simmons added.

She spent a good part of that morning crying alone in her bunk. From happiness, for once.

+++

It was another few years before they were all able to celebrate Christmas together again. 

When Jemma first came home from Maveth, she’d hardly been up for a romantic dinner alone with Fitz, let alone a whole Christmas celebration with the family.

On Christmas Eve, Simmons shared a quiet glass of wine with Daisy, and whatever else she and Fitz did to commemorate the evening, Daisy had no clue.

She had fun with Hunter and Bobbi and Mack - it was warm and it was sweet and it was family - but she missed Simmons. She missed Fitz.

She wondered, though she tried not to, if their first Christmas together had also been their last.

If the universe had been so cold to Fitz-Simmons that they’d only ever be each other’s warmth. If Daisy had no other part in it.

But then the next morning came. Christmas morning.

The knock on her door was soft and tentative.

Jemma.

Daisy almost tripped over her blankets to answer quickly. She could never get to Jemma quickly enough.

“Daisy,” Jemma said, the name still feeling new on her lips. But Daisy had meant what she’d said - Jemma really could call her whatever she wanted. “Merry Christmas.”

She held out a mug of cocoa, topped with so much whipped cream that Daisy couldn’t help but smile. Even with everything that had been going on, Jemma must have noticed how much more into sugar Daisy had found herself, after everything with her parents.

“Merry Christmas.”

Daisy thought that maybe their eyes lingered together for a moment longer than they normally would, a moment longer than someone else might consider appropriate.

“I made Christmas pancakes. For you, and for Fitz. Do you want to come back to our room? Share them with us, before Fitz eats them all?”

For you, and for Fitz. Our room. With us. Daisy’s head spun.

She cleared her throat. “What are Christmas pancakes?”

“The greatest pancakes ever to exist, Daisy!” Fitz called from down the hall.

Jemma giggled softly. Once again, she held out her hand for Daisy. Once again, Daisy took it.

Once again, Christmas felt like it could be... home.

+++

“My father didn’t believe in holidays, not really,” Fitz told Jemma and Daisy. After the Framework. After all the torture and all the death and all the... all of it. “Celebrating was a womanly activity,” he said. His eyes were far away.

Daisy met Jemma’s eyes. Tears were burning there - Fitz was learning to talk about his father, but slowly. Slowly. Jemma’s hand absently traced the spot on her leg where Leopold - where Fitz - had shot her.

Fitz noticed. He knelt, immediately, and replaced Jemma’s fingers with his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Daisy had lost track of the number of times he’d apologized. 

“I was only in there for a day, and I did terrible things too, Fitz,” she reminded him.

She brought her fingers to his chin, tilted his head up so he would look at her. She glanced at Jemma - she was still new at this. At all of this. At figuring out where she fit in their relationship, in their love. She’d been especially nervous about it, around the holidays. Figuring out where she fit, how she fit.

Was Jemma the only one allowed to comfort Fitz, like this? But Jemma smiled and took Daisy’s free hand.

Fitz looked up at her like his life hung on her next words.

And maybe they did.

But he didn’t let her speak them. He’d told her and Jemma, so many times, that comforting him wasn’t their job. Not about this. 

They tried, anyway, and they did, anyway.

But he tried, too.

So he tilted his head so his lips kissed her palm.

“It’s Christmas, Daisy,” he smiled, with his eyes more than his lips. He kissed Jemma’s leg once more before he stood, and offered them both his hands. “My point about my father wasn’t to get lost in the past. It was to a build a future. Our future. He didn’t believe in holidays, but I do. Because you deserve them, Daisy. For yourself. And with us. So...”

He led them both off the Quinjet. He and Jemma had refused to tell Daisy where they were going, or why they were dressed so damn warmly.

Daisy gasped when he opened the bay doors.

He and Jemma had brought her... Christmas.

An immaculate igloo, big enough to fit Daisy’s entire history of crowded rooms with no real connections, complete with a smoking chimney that spoke of a warm fire inside. Two massive evergreen trees on either side of it, all strung with softly glowing white lights. A field of uninterrupted snow, as far as her eyes could see.

She didn’t ask how he’d managed to engineer it all.

She didn’t ask why he’d done this for her. He’d already said - he thought she deserved it.

When Mack emerged from the igloo, mugs of cocoa in his hands and Yo-Yo and Flint trying to get reindeer antlers on his head, May and Coulson next to them, it occurred to Daisy that FitzSimmons - her FitzSimmons - weren’t giving her anything she didn’t already have.

The three of them made a family together long ago. They just wanted to make sure she always knew.

Fitz held her hand while Jemma kissed her lips. Deke whooped from somewhere behind Mack. Flint snapped endless photos mid-laugh, because he’d never gotten over the whole idea of cameras. May tossed a snowball at Coulson, who promptly fell into a heap of fresh snow.

Home. FitzSimmons had brought her home for Christmas. 

And for maybe the first time, she didn’t question it.

[silverarmedassassin]

Home for the Holidays (2/2)

Bucky x Reader | Word Count: 5,661 | Warnings: None

A/N: Here is part two! Thank you to those who humored me and read this little mini story! Part 1 can be found on my masterlist, which is conveniently pinned to my blog 😬

This is part 2 to my holiday submission for @wonderlandmind4​‘s fall/winter writing challenge. My prompt was: Character B is very enthusiastic to introduce character A to all their traditions, but tries to be sensitive when A seems like they’re struggling to fit in/enjoy themselves.

Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics​

“You’re going to love it here,” you announce as you take the exit to your small hometown. The drive out of the city had been relatively quiet, the playlist you’d crafted specifically for the trip was only briefly interrupted a handful of times by you pointing out a landmark or attraction tied to childhood memories. Normally, silence on a road trip would make you uncomfortable, but not with Bucky. In the few months you’ve known him, you’d come to understand he was a man of very few words most of the time, so you rarely felt the need to fill the empty space with senseless words.

You’d gotten to know him a lot better in the few weeks leading up to Christmas. He had been making an effort to spend time outside of his apartment more, which often meant he would come down to yours to share a meal or watch a movie. It was nice, getting to spend so much uninterrupted time with Bucky and, if the offhand comments that Sam had offered the handful of times you’d seen him coming and going, Bucky was enjoying the time too. If anything, it was helping him open up again. And, if that’s all you could offer your neighbor, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, instead he continues to look at his window at the passing landscape. Driving home has always been one of your favorite things to do, as the concrete jungle of the city slowly tapered off into nothing but dense forest, hills, and nature preserves. As much as you loved where you were in life now, there were always moments in time where you questioned why you’d ever decided to re-root yourself in New York City.

Once off the interstate, it doesn’t take you long to reach town limits, and it’s only a few short minutes of driving to reach your parent’s home. As you pull your car into the drive, you see Bucky tense out of your peripheral. You’d had a feeling the reason he was being so quiet today was because he was nervous, but this subtle action reaffirmed that.

“My dad’s not home yet,” you state nonchalantly in an attempt to ease his anxieties a little. “It’s just my mom home. I told her to be on her best behaviour, so you don’t have to worry about a million questions.”

Bucky glances over at you and the look in his eyes tells you that statement has eased him just a little. The fact he was so nervous to meet you family made you feel bad for even inviting him in the first place. But you knew he didn’t have anyone, as Rebecca’s family was going on a cruise, and Bucky had shared Sam was spending the holiday with his mother out of state. Despite your wanting to help him feel less alone during this awkward time of transition and settling, you felt guilty for bringing him all the way here.

Before you can let that guilt settle uncomfortably in your chest, you pop the trunk and jump out of the car. You’re only going to be home for four days, as Bucky didn’t want to stay away for too long and you wanted to use the extra time off of work to finally finish making your apartment feel like your home. Due to that, you both only had a small duffle of clothing, so unloading your things was quick.

As you lead Bucky up to the front door, you’re suddenly reminded to alert him of one tiny detail that might make him uncomfortable. As you turn to tell him, the front door of flings open and your mom comes barreling out, arms wide open. “I forgot to tell you,” you say, voice slightly muffled by your mother’s arms, “Mom’s a hugger.”

“Oh hush,” your mom says as she pulls away from you, her sights already set on Bucky. “Everyone needs a good hug.”

That night, Bucky had an easier time falling asleep than he ever imagined. New places, mixed with the fear of having one of his nightmares typically kept him up, if not all night, into the wee hours of the morning. The non-prescription sleeping pills Sam had suggested, mixed with the calming effect you seemed to have on him, were likely to thank for the early night. He isn’t surprised, however, when he startles awake around three in the morning. As he sits up in bed, sweat-drenched hair sticking to the sides of his face, he tries to remember what exactly the dream was about. It was another little something Sam and the others had suggested he do, something about acknowledging the things that hurt us most or something.

After a few minutes of sorting through his brain and trying to pin-point exactly what was the cause of his sudden consciousness, he gives up. Bucky decides that, instead of attempting to fall back to sleep right away, he would refill his glass of water and attempt to clear his mind of any lingering shadows.

Your home is quiet, a kind of peace settles over the entire building that no place in the city could ever harness. He thinks that maybe one day he’ll retire, move someplace quiet like this, maybe have a family of his own. Bucky pauses slightly in his descent of the staircase, caught off-guard by his own thoughts. He’d never been one to think about the future, not since he woke up in it. Just living to see the sunrise over Manhattan another day was enough for him. But his mind hasn’t quite been the same since you came along.

As he rounds the corner into the kitchen, he expects to find it devoid of others, but instead finds your mother sitting at the small kitchen table you’d all been sitting around just hours before, laughing and sharing a lifetime of memories with an outsider.

“Trouble sleeping,” she asks without looking over to where he’s standing. Instead, she raises a steaming mug to her lips and takes a tentative sip.

“Ye-yeah,” Bucky says, voice still thick with sleep and disuse.

Your mom hums as she looks over to him, profile lit effortlessly by the early winter moonlight streaming in from the back door. “That’s nothing a good cup of tea can’t help fix. There’s still water in the kettle if you’d like.”

Bucky watches her a moment longer before accepting her offer. She directs him on where everything he needs is located and, before he knows it, he’s sitting down across from her, his own warm mug full of a lavender and something concoction. If anything, at least it smells good.

“I’m really glad Y/N brought you along, Bucky,” your mom says as she takes another sip of her own tea. There’s a glint in the corner of her eye that Bucky can’t quite place, and it admittedly makes him a little nervous. “I do have to admit that her father and I were a bit shocked when she said she was bringing someone home. And then finding out that someone was a...well, you. I guess you never expect your own kid to get mixed up in the affairs of a superhero,” she chuckles to herself.

Bucky takes a large drink of his tea, instantly regretting it as it burns his throat the entire way down. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. When it had sunk in that he was going to be visiting you home for Christmas, meeting your parents and seeing your hometown, it made him anxious. He remembered that, back when he was still the punk who ran the streets of old-time Brooklyn like he owned the place, when a girl invited you to meet her parents it meant you were going steady, or at least headed in that direction. He knew things had changed a lot in terms of dating and relationships in general between men and women in the eighty-odd years he had been under, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this - spending one-on-one time with his beautiful downstairs neightbor’s mom - still held the same implications as it did in the forties.

“I, uh,” Bucky isn’t sure what to say. He doesn’t want to make it sound like he is disinterested in you, he knew that you talked about him in some capacity with your mother, afterall. But at the same time he didn’t want to sound too overzealous on the off-chance that this entire trip meant nothing other than a friendly visit for the holiday. “I’m really thankful you opened your home for me.”

Your mom takes Bucky off guard when she snorts out a small laugh. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to...Listen, I don’t know exactly what is going on between you and my daughter, but whatever it is, it’s really good for her. Y/N is, as you’ve likely picked up, a giver and a caretaker. She never asks for help when she needs it, and rarely accepts it when it’s offered.

“She took the whole Snap thing pretty hard, harder than she let on I think. That’s when she really threw herself at taking care of others, so much so that she forgot to take care of herself sometimes.” She pauses and looks intently down at her mug. “Y/N needs to be taken care of sometimes, too. And, whether you know it or not, I think you do that. I haven’t seen my daughter this happy in a long time. So of course we would open our home for you. Now and whenever you may need it.”

Bucky’s unsure of how to respond to such a tender sentiment, but the way your mom is looking at him tells him no response is needed. It’s a look, he assumes, only a mother can give. One of knowing and mystery and tender loving. One that she so openly offered to him, a stranger, an intruder in her home and holiday season. He realizes then that, everything he’s gone through, everything he’s ever done both voluntarily and not, doesn’t carry as much as he’s been thinking. That, despite it all, maybe he is more than what HYDRA made him and that he is deserving of the good things that have come to him in recent weeks.

“Well, Bucky,” your mom says as she takes one final sip of her tea. “I’m going to try to get some sleep. I suggest you do the same. Christmas Eve is kind of a big deal around here. You’ll need the energy, especially if you want to keep up with Y/N.”

Bucky quickly learned that when your mom said that Christmas Eve was a big deal, she meant it. You had come knocking at his door a little past seven this morning, telling him that, if he did not get up, you would not hesitate to grab a handful of snow. Despite the too few hours of sleep he ended up getting and the desire to hide away just a little longer before facing your entire family again, Bucky pulled himself out of bed and plastered a smile on his face.

The morning passes in a flurry of Christmas activity. Cookie dough is beat and patted and molded into festive shapes while various Christmas melodies flowed through the home. It was tradition, you had said as you deposited a fresh batch of snickerdoodles into the oven, that Christmas Eve morning was reserved for baking and eggnog making and singing out-of-tune to Christmas songs. So, you taught him how to use a rolling pin properly, showed him the perfect amount of pressure to put on the cookie cutters, and even scolded him when he took a spoonful of dough all for himself. The uncooked sugary goodness was just as good as he remembered.

As the last of the cookies are placed on a rack to cool, and the eggnog is nestled neatly into the fridge to chill, Bucky feels his back pocket start to vibrate. His heart drops momentarily when he pulls his phone out and sees Sam’s name scrolling across the screen. Sam only called for two reasons: Avengers business or to coax him out of the hole Bucky sometimes digs himself into, and only one was pertinent to the situation at hand.

Bucky excuses himself and steps out onto the back porch where he can talk in private. “Is everything okay,” Bucky asks in place of a proper greeting.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas to you too, bud,” comes Sam’s witty response. Bucky has never wished to reach through a phone and slap the grin he just knows Sam is wearing right off his face. “I was just calling to see how things were going.”

“They’re fine, Sam,” Bucky huffs out, crossing his metal arm across his chest. “I made cookies for the first time, I think.”

Bucky can’t help but crack a smile when Sam starts to laugh on the other end. “That must have been a scene. I would tell everyone not to eat ‘em, though.”

The easygoing banter continues for a few minutes before the topic shifts to how Bucky is really doing. He shares his past day - because really he’s only been away from the city for a little over twenty-four hours - and Sam updates him on the goings-on at his own family gathering. Bucky listens intently while watching a pair of cardinals take turns pecking at the bird feeder hanging just beyond the porch and the sunset looming just beyond the yard.

“You sound really good, Buck. I’m real happy this neighbor can look past your shitty moods and spend time with you,” Sam says before saying his goodbyes. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to hear from him. It was one of those little things that reminded him there were people out there that cared.

Instead of going back inside right away, Bucky decides to stay out on the back porch a little longer to enjoy the view of the setting sun and the tranquility that comes with being out of the city. It was rare that he found himself in a place as quiet as this, with a view unobstructed by skyscrapers. He wanted to savor the moment a little longer, appreciate the things he hadn’t realized he’d been missing for all these years.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” While lost in reverie, Bucky hadn’t heard you join him on the porch. He looks over to find you standing just to his left, already focused on the view. He admires the way the last rays of daylight streak across your face, takes in the way it makes you look like you’re lit from within by some ethereal, otherworldly energy. And maybe you were. After all, you’d somehow found a way to look past his flaws and broken pieces and settle yourself deep within his bones, whether you knew it or not.

“Yea, it is,” Bucky replies without taking his eyes off of your face. He’s not sure if he means the sun or you.

You look at him, then, the softest smile he’s ever seen planted on your face. He notices that under your left eye is a streak of flour that had found a home there at some point throughout the day. Without much thought, Bucky makes to wipe it away. “You have a little...” when he swipes his finger across the soft skin of your cheek, he swears he hears your breath hitch in your throat, but he tries not to think too much into it. He had unintentionally used his left hand, after all.

You both stand there like that for a moment, his thumb still lingering just under your lower lashes and you looking at him like he was the one responsible for this sunrise and sunset every day. The spell is broken, however, when a winter breeze blows through, causing your to shiver and curl in on yourself for warmth.

“Hey, so, if you’re up to it, we still have one more Y/L/N tradition that we have yet to complete.” You wait for a reaction, and Bucky’s not sure what you were looking for, but when he doesn’t say anything, you continue. “The city goes all out with the lights each year, and we usually go downtown to look at them. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. It’s usually kinda busy, and I know it’s cold and-”

“I’d love to,” Bucky smiles, and when he sees the unparalleled joy that spreads across your face, he knows then that he would say or do anything to be the reason for that look over and over again.

It’s just beginning to flurry when you make it to the main drag of your little hometown. Your parents lived just far enough away to feel like a quiet neighborhood, but close enough that you could easily walk downtown without immediately regretting your decision.

It comes as no surprise when you find the wider-than-normal sidewalks in front of the neat row of old storefronts crowded with other residents bundled up in their winter’s best. Despite the shoulder-to-shoulder situation in some sections of the street, you didn’t mind the crowd one bit. The unique and beautifully decorated window displays and intricately lit buildings and trees made the awkward shuffling and getting elbowed by strangers worth it.

At some point, you get separated from your parents and, when you turn to see Bucky’s reaction to the spectacle, you find he’s a good two couples away from you. You decide then that the only way you’re going to avoid being separated from anyone else is by looping your arm through his. He doesn’t fight it, and there’s only a slight moment of stiff awkwardness before he relaxes his arm and allows you to guide him through the crowd. Your cheeks hurt from the genuine smile on your face, and your throat is already feeling the effects of the amount of talking you’re doing. You have to point everything out to Bucky, though, from the horrifying, oversized light-up tooth the town’s dentist has put on display since you could remember to the ever-changing elegant light show that danced across the courthouse. You’re so enthralled in making sure you share every last detail of this special tradition that you fail to notice the way Bucky has closed in on himself.

Despite the glistening lights and the way the moonlight was catching on the large snowflakes as they fell, the light that usually shown in Bucky’s eyes had dimmed to barely the flicker of a candle. The smile that graced his lips was for your benefit and only appeared when you looked back at him to ensure he was still listening to you. As much as he loved watching your enthusiasm seep out of every pore, and enjoyed hearing the way the pitch of your voice got just a bit higher when you spotted something you especially enjoyed, Bucky wasn’t having a good time. The crowd, despite living in New York City, was making him nauseous. Every time he let you pull him down a side street, each seemingly smaller than the next, you felt the knot that had settled in the bottom of his belly tighten just a little bit more. At least when he was in the city, he felt comfortable, knew his way around most of modern-day Brooklyn, and had identified the perfect escape routes just in case a situation went south. Luckily, he’s never had to utilize such routes. But here? The place you were so excited to show him, share with him was foreign to him. The idea of not knowing what waited beyond each turn of the corner, who stood watching through the windows above the quaint storefronts took him back to his time on the run, back to when his days were filled with strict, careful routine, and he felt he was living on borrowed time.

“Earth to Bucky,” you laughed as you waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked a few times, pulling himself back to the surface before he could drown in his thoughts. You were looking at him, obviously waiting for an answer to a question he didn’t hear. “Where’d you go?” you laughed, blissfully unaware of the demons that were creeping in the shadows of Bucky’s still fucked mind.

“I, uh, got caught up in the lights, I guess,” he replied lamely, flinching when he realized just how stupid the answer sounds. He watches as an array of emotions flick across your eyes; amusement, questioning, concern. He had to look away before you could settle on a look of pity. Bucky couldn’t handle that.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your probe, pulling him off to the side of the walkway into the entryway of one of the many buildings. “You don’t look so good.”

Bucky felt like kicking himself, wanted to scream at and scold his fragile mind for taking the joy and excitement you had been exuding just moments ago and turning it into worry, pity, anything but what you deserved to be feeling right now. “Bucky, please tell me if something’s wrong.”

He takes a breath before looking down at his snow-covered boots. “The crowds, being in an unfamiliar place...I still have problems with that, I guess.”

Your face falls even more at that. “Why didn’t you say something? We could have gone back home ages ago. Or not come at all. Or, or…”

“Y/N, it’s fine. Really. This is a tradition; I didn’t want to ruin it.”

You cross your arms and pout at that. He’s waiting for you to stomp your foot, much like Becca used to as a child when something didn’t go her way. The thought of his sister stings a little. She would have loved something like this, Bucky thinks, and that makes his uncomfortableness even more of a nuisance. He’s alive and able to see crazy Christmas displays and enjoy the things children growing up when he did couldn’t experience, yet here he is, broken and wishing he was anywhere else.

You pull him from his revere again when you start to tug on his metal arm. “Come on,” you huff, not out of annoyance or anger, but something else he can’t quite put his finger on.

“We’re not going back to your house,” he says, digging his heels into the concrete. This causes you to stumble a little and let go of his arm. “Please, don’t let me ruin this for you. I’ll be fine.”

“The only way you’ll ruin this is if you continue to be miserable while walking around. This is the same display as last year anyway,” you shrug. “I think I can skip one year.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, just looking at each other before Bucky sighs and relents. You loop your arm through his again, this time holding it a bit firmer and closer to your body, and begin to worm your way through the crowd. The further you get from the downtown streets, the quieter and emptier the sidewalks became. It wasn’t long before it was just the two of you walking along in silence. Despite the crowd-less walk, you don’t drop his arm.

“I’m really glad you came with,” you whisper after a few minutes. You’d lead him down the long route to your home, both for the fact it was sparsely traveled by foot and because you weren’t quite ready to lose the closeness of holding Bucky’s arm. “Even if I made you uncomfortable.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you think he’s retreated back into wherever he goes when he’s feeling stressed, but then he replies. “No, thank you. This is obviously a special holiday for you and your family. And here I am, intruding.”

You snort and bring your free hand up to wrap around his metal forearm. “You could never intrude, Bucky. I enjoy spending time with you.”

Despite the chill in the air, Bucky has never felt as warm as he does when those six words leave your mouth.

When you return home, boots are quickly shed and coats are hung neatly in the closet. Bucky stands quietly by the door, waiting for your lead. Despite your efforts of making him feel comfortable in your home, his movements were still shy and timid as he glided over the hardwood floors.

“I’m going to finish putting the dishes away,” you say after a moment and nod towards the T.V.. “You’re more than welcome to turn something on, I’ll only be a second.”

Bucky nods his head and watches you disappear into the dark kitchen. He waits until the clatter of pans and ceramic bowls reaches his ears to head up to the guest room. He didn’t feel much like socializing anymore. The day, despite its laid back approach and festive touch, had been both mentally and emotionally draining for him.

Bucky gracelessly flops down onto his back on the borrowed bed. He’s contemplating sending a message to Sam, maybe do that video chatting Wanda enjoyed so much but he loathed. He needed the comfort of home, the familiar to drag him from the hole he could feel himself sinking into. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t even enjoy himself on Christmas fucking Eve. He sighs as he flips onto his side and listens as the faint sounds of you puttering around the kitchen, his enhanced hearing allowing him to hear your humming of a Christmas song he can’t quite place, travel up the stairs and wrap him in a warm embrace.

He’s not sure when he drifted off, or for how long, but you pull him back to the surface of consciousness with three soft knocks on the cracked bedroom door. “Bucky?” you say softly, not daring to enter his space without an invitation. “Is everything alright?”

“Tired, I guess,” Bucky says as he pushes himself to sit up. As he swings his feet over the side, you push the door open a little more so that you can see him.

“There’s a...We have one more tradition that I’d like to share with you, but I wanted to do it separately.” You timidly step further into the room, arms held behind your back. “We usually share one present on Christmas Eve. Typically pajamas, sometimes just a gag gift. And I, uh, I wanted to make sure you were included this year.”

Bucky watches you carefully as you make your way to sit next to him on the bed. As you settle in on the mattress, you rest a neatly wrapped package on your lap. He watches as you run your hands along the paper in a nervous attempt to smooth out the nonexistent impurities. When he finally looks up to your face, he finds that you are already intently watching him, your gaze unwavering as his meets it.

“But I don’t have anything for you,” he nervously blurts out. He can feel the heat of embarrassment as it creeps up the back of his neck when you offer him a soft laugh.

“That’s not the point, Bucky. Just...here.”

You shove the gift into his hands and, as he examines it, he can feel you practically vibrating with the excited but nervous energy you’re not giving off. This was always the worst part of receiving gifts - having to open them in front of the giver. It always made Bucky a little anxious, worried that he wouldn’t deliver the expected or desired reaction. He smooths his hands over the silver paper a moment longer before he digs a finger into a seam in the wrapping. He’s slow to unwrap your gift, a part of him wishing that you hadn’t gifted him anything at all. Bucky didn’t have anything for you, and, the more he thinks about the fact he showed up to a holiday without even a small gift for the one who invited him, it makes him want to leave and never show his face around you or your family again.

When the wrapping is finally discarded, a brown leather book sits firmly in his lap. His name, his full name, is expertly embossed across the front, and the corners decorated with a simply but intricate design. When he flips it open to the first page, a set of familiar faces are smiling back up at him. His ma, dad, and himself with Becca tucked neatly in what he remembers to be a soft yellow blanket - the photo of when they brought her home, the first photo he saw when he visited her just two short months ago.

“I wanted to give you something special, meaningful,” you say when Bucky looks up at you. “Your family helped too. They gave me copies of your old pictures, provided some of their own.”

Bucky looks back to the book as he continues to flip. He watches himself grow older with each turn of the page. Pictures his ma had taken, some from school, even some from his time as a Howling Commando. Articles, magazine clippings, and copies of book pages filled the middle of the book, all about him, praising him for what he did and what they thought he lost his life doing. He can feel tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes as he looks over previously unread words of kindness, admiration, and sadness, all for him.

He doesn’t think he could feel any fuller until he flips to a hand-drawn picture of himself and Bridget, signed sloppily but in the most loving way. He can’t help but let out a watery laugh, and he can hear you add your own chuckle. “She was very excited when I asked her to contribute. That little girl loves you so much already, you know?”

Yes, Bucky knows. He knows his worth in this world now, thinks he’s finally found his misplaced spot in this place in time, and it’s all thanks to you. His chest grows tighter the further he flips in the scrapbook. Pictures of his sister when on her wedding day, when his first niece was born. Graduation photos, birthdays, and family get-togethers just because all were documented for him to see, for him to live through these pictures because he wasn’t around to bear witness in person.

When he gets to the very last pages, he pauses. A face he hadn’t expected to see smiling back at him was tucked neatly in this book, and it filled him with a warmth he thought his poor, frozen bones would never feel again. A picture of you and him on the day of Becca’s funeral, all smiles despite the somber day. It looks like you’re mid-laugh and had only just looked at the camera in time for the photo to capture your face. He’d almost forgotten that a family member - name and relation lost to him at the moment - had insisted on getting pictures of all those in attendance, had mentioned something about never seeing each other outside of things like these so he had to take advantage. He was glad that cousin or nephew or third-something-twice-removed had pestered them into taking it, because, despite not wanting to look at his broken, mismatched self, you were there shining brighter than he thinks he’s ever seen any star.

“Bucky,” you whisper, clearly unsure of what to make of his silence.

“I...I don’t know what to say, Y/N,” Bucky swallows the lump in his throat in an attempt to keep the tears that have begun to swell in his eyes from coming out in his voice. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me - done for me, actually.”

When he looks up at you, he tries to blink back the tears but it causes them to spill down onto his cheeks instead. “Oh, Bucky,” you gently laugh and raise a hand to wipe away his tears. When your hand makes contact with his cheek, however, you realize what you’re doing and make to pull it back. Bucky, however, is quicker and places his flesh hand on top of yours to hold it firmly to his fuzz-covered cheek.

“I lied,” he whispers and you give him a concerned and questioning look. “Earlier. I said I didn’t have a gift for you, but I do.” As he’s speaking, he slowly begins to lean in closer until your face-to-face, only a breath away from one another. “Only if you want it, though.”

You nod and bring your other hand up to fully cup his face as he closes the space between you, gently connecting your lips. It’s a slow, chaste kiss that has him craving more. More of the feel of your soft lips against his, more of your breath catching in your throat, more feeling your eyelashes butterfly across his own as you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against his. He opens his eyes slightly to get a peak of you. You’re already looking at him, a smile spread across your lips.

In that moment, he wishes he had the ability to read minds so that he could know exactly what you were thinking. Before he has the chance to say anything, you’re leaning back, this time pressing your lips more firmly against his own. If it weren’t for the fact he was so enraptured in the essence of you, he would be embarrassed by the low groan that rumbles deep in his chest. He feels your lips perk up into a wider smile before planting another quick peck to his lips before pulling away so that you could look him square in the eyes.

You brush a lock of his hair from his face and tuck it behind his ear before whispering, “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

[wide-eyedscottishlass]

Scarlett and the Professor - a lazy Sunday morn

[continued from]

moodboard by @strangelock221b​ 💙  

Scarlett flipped onto her side, instinctively turning away from the sunlight filtering through her closed lids. The silk sheets cocooning her were slick and cool, but the sun had warmed her face enough to awaken her senses. In moments more, she breathed deeply--taking in the heady scent of all that sex, that astonishing, wicked, glorious sex--and gave out a purr of satisfaction. She was smiling before she even opened her eyes, remembering herself--happy and sappy and deeply in love.

“Ah, at last,” he chuckled; she heard not only his genuine amusement, but the crinkle and flip of some large pieces of paper. Newsprint? A newspaper than. Scarlett smiled into her pillow; of course he would prefer paper over the digital version. True hedonist that he was, Hennessy would always opt for the most tactile sensations.

“There’s my little sleepyhead,” he added with true affection, so that she popped one eye open and then the other. Hennessy sat up against the headboard, a couple of pillows propped behind him, bare to the waist. His long legs stretched out before him, covered in a pair of dark grey, silk pajama bottoms, and his feet were also bare. Scarlett sighed softly; when even his feet appeared to her as sexy, it must certainly mean there was no saving her from the beautiful fall she was taking.

She reached up to check the tangle of her hair, blinking at the strong sunlight filling the room. “Mmmmm...why didn’t you wake me?”

He flicked the top of his newspaper down to the crease, favoring her above his reading glasses with indulgent mirth. “My darling Scarlett, you needed your rest, of course. My fault too, as you were rather spent by the time I finally let you sleep uninterrupted.” His grin was smug, yet still she saw his genuine fondness for her, weakening her heart all over again.

“I’m not spent now,” she urged him, shimmying close enough to lay her hand on his bicep.

He pursed his lips, his eyes widening, “Well, haven’t you learned your lessons well! And now looking for extra credit...”

Scarlett batted her lashes and replied breathily, “Extra, extra...Hennessy.” She had already come to love how he looked when she dared call him by name.

His mouth dropped open as if to respond, but he was interrupted by the loud buzz of a text alert on his mobile. “Hold that thought, little lamb,” he commanded, “And I promise to give you all the attention you so deserve.” Hennessy took a perfunctory look at his phone, them jumped up from the bed, taking giant strides to the door. He turned back her way, eyeing her as though he saw right through the sheets, while his smile grew salacious. “Mmmm...mmmm...mmmm! You could almost make a man forgo his other hungers, Scarlett. But we don’t want out breakfast growing cold now, do we?” He dashed from the room.

Perplexed and a bit stymied--god, how perfectly divine he’d looked framed in the doorway, all firm, warm flesh, so srtong and long and lanky, that all she wanted was to mold her body to his as she lay beneath him--Scarlett turned onto her back and gave a long, languorous stretch, waiting upon his return. She heard his heavy front doors close and then imagined him taking two steps at a time back up to his bedroom suite. The mouthwatering scents of fresh pancakes and bacon preceded him into the room.

“Voila! Here’s my version of breakfast in bed.” Hennessy seemed very pleased with himself and with surprising her, crossing to the bed and setting down two plastic sacks filled with cardboard containers. He put a smaller paper bag on his bedside table, which turned out to hold coffee and orange juice.

Scarlett’s stomach had begun to rumble the moment the aromas reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything in over twelve hours. She scooted up against the headboard, keeping the sheet decorously across her breasts, while Hennessy took his place beside her and began to dole out their meal. “There’s bacon and sausage, darling. Wasn’t sure you had a preference, but there’s more than enough of both.” There was plenty of syrup and butter, too, and a container of sliced and sugared strawberries, along with whipped cream, to top the pancakes. And a heaping serving of cheese-topped scrambled eggs.

She tucked in with relish, and Hennessy laughed good-naturedly at the evidence of her hunger, the smile lines beside his pale blue eyes (Scarlett sighed inwardly; they always look so astonishingly pale in strong sunlight!) grown dearer than ever to her heart. Since the moment that he’d taken her in full, she’d already stopped herself from saying that she loved him a half dozen times--and he was making it very hard for her to continue to suppress that urge.

“What?” He asked, around a forkful of pancakes and eggs. He must’ve have seen a flicker of that thought cross her face.

“Oh...ah...nothing...really,” she fibbed, lowering her eyes so he wouldn’t read more, “I’d been hoping to make some scones this morning---but this...this is so much better...”

“It is, isn’t it!” He hummed a jaunty tune as he set himself a second serving of everything. “But please don’t be too disappointed about your scones, love. The morning paper and breakfast takeaway in bed is a Sunday ritual I will never go without, come hell or high water.”

“Of course...” The danger of him guessing how soft she was for him seemed to have passed for the moment.

“But if it would make you happy, we can have them with tea this afternoon. Or failing that, another breakfast morning. Would that work for you?”

“Oh, yes,” she nodded, happier at the implication that there were further breakfasts together in their future, than for the promise of the scones themselves. “Whatever you want...darling.” His smile was pure sunshine as he leaned in and kissed her mouth, before returning to his meal.

After they broke their fast, he had her in the shower, amid a thick wall of steam created by the dual showerheads--taking her with such a stunning ferocity that he left her filled with speechless bliss, and legs shaking so badly that she had to lean on him for several minutes until she felt strong enough to support herself. Though he was both amused---his low rumbles of laughter at her very flattering reaction had echoed all around them---and highly satisfied, he also became the soft, solicitous lover in the aftermath, smoothing gentle hands upon her wet hair and scattering loving kisses on her face, murmuring endearments against her skin.

’My darling...my angel...my lovely, little lamb. My sweet, sweet Scarlett...’ Spurring her to ask herself: how can he see to my needs this way and still not know he owns my heart?

Why, he’d even stepped from the shower first--telling her to just hold on a tic--grabbing a thick, thirsty towel to swaddle her in before he wrapped one around himself, and then had guided her to sit on the padded vanity stool next to the long bathroom counter. Never having observed a grown man in his morning ablutions, Scarlett found herself fascinated watching him run gel through his thick, dark hair, trying to get it to behave as he preferred, and then lather up and shave. Shaving with meticulous care, the quiet scrape of the razor against his skin reminding her that this was all very real. That this complicated, brilliant, perpetual temptation of a man had welcomed her not only into his bed, but into the privacy of his home and the rhythm of his life. 

The air was soon rich with his scent--Bleu de Chanel--as he applied a generous dose of aftershave. When he grabbed his toothbrush, he turned to her with a grin, “I’m almost all set, love. Then you can have the room to yourself to do...whatever it is you do to keep yourself looking so...hmmm...scrumptious.”

Scarlett nodded, though she would have been just as content to simply watch her magnificent lover--her private Hennessy--in the domain which reflected exactly who he was, going about even his most ordinary tasks. Her heart was so entranced now that she wanted to memorize his every detail. 

He gave her another toothy grin, then strode over to deposit his towel in the hamper, casually revealing the full glory of the form she had come to worship. He flashed her a wink when he caught her staring-- she just couldn’t help herself, and odds were he knew that. “You might want to suit up, darling. It looks to be the perfect day for a swim.” Then he was out the door, leaving Scarlett to daydream her way through her own morning toilette, wondering what new lessons Hennessy might have in store for her. Eager to learn--and even more eager to please.

               ____________________________________________

Scarlett had plaited her damp hair into a Dutch braid, draped across her shoulder, hoping to keep her hair tidy if they did end up taking a swim. She slipped into a modest tankini with her denim capris over that, and then grabbed her rucksack before she headed downstairs. If Hennessy was busy--she’d noted he had taken his newspaper to wherever he’d gone off to--she had a bit of actual course work to do. Sketches for a study of the natural world, prep for an end of term project--a large, landscape painting in the artist’s choice of medium, along with a portfolio of drawings and any other work she did towards the completion of the final piece. She’d found the seeds of inspiration in Hennessy’s wild-grown garden, as well as in his serene shingle of private beach, and she was keen to make a start. 

She found him with his paper beneath the patio umbrella, with an iced pitcher of lemonade, one empty glass and one half-full, upon the wrought iron table. As he had advised her, he was clad in swim trunks and a matching, athletic fit surf tee. In blues and sea greens of course, the hues that not only dominated his casual color palette, but flattered him perfectly. 

Scarlett set her bag on one of the spare chairs, poured herself some lemonade and then topped off Hennessy’s glass. He thanked her before turning his attention back to the crossword puzzle he was working on. “You do them in pen?” she observed.

“Is there any other way?” he had narrowed his eyes while he was trying to work out a clue, rhythmically tapping his ball point pen on the glass table top. “Six letter word ending in k-a...an exclamation...hmmmmm...” 

She couldn’t resist chiming in, ‘eureka’ just as she began to set out her supplies, then pulled her sketchpad from her rucksack. 

“Eureka, indeed,” he chuckled, glancing over to watch her preparations. “And what’s this, little lambkin? Another hidden talent?” 

“Depends on what you would consider talent, Professor,” she stated modestly, “I draw a little, I paint a little. Always looking to improve.” She opened up to the middle of her sketchpad, several pages past the drawing she had indulged in the previous afternoon, meaning to avoid him catching sight of it. 

“And what sort of things give you inspiration, my dear? People, places...things, mayhap?” Hennessy’s curiosity had been piqued, and he was craning his neck to get at least a little peek. 

”Well, yes, of course,” she teased innocently, not ready to volunteer a thing, while setting the edge of her pencil onto the rough surface of the blank page. There was the scrape of chair legs dragged across the calypso coral stone beneath their feet as he drew nearer, and soon he’d made it impossible for her not to acknowledge that he was leaning in close, laying his hand on the back of her neck, toying with the few stray hairs that had escaped her braid. Scarlett turned her head slightly, just enough to see Hennessy from the corner of her eye, catching enough of him to recognize the mischievous glint in his. “What,” she asked quietly, realizing that she would accomplish nothing until she had at least humored him.

“Just curious, darling.” He ran a single finger across her bare shoulder and down her arm, a sure and pleasant distraction, softening her resolve. “I think you’d like to show me your work. Wouldn’t you, Scarlett?”

“I suppose,” she replied with a sigh, though she remained uneasy about how he would react to the liberty she had taken, of sketching him. 

“Always my good girl.” He brushed a quiet kiss upon her cheek and then rested his hand on the center of her back, waiting patiently as she flipped back to the opening page. 

“Some of these are incomplete,” she noted, “Mostly just for practice, or because I haven’t decided yet what other elements should be part of the composition.” Scarlett could feel his eyes study the page she had revealed, a very flawed study of the little cottage of her youth. “And of course, there’s a lot of trials and error.” 

“That’s home,” he observed, sounding more fascinated than such a simple thing usually allowed for. 

“Uh-huh.” Encouraged by that sign of his sincere interest, she turned a few pages more, where her work depicted rustic exteriors of her native Scotland, and several sketches of the village-side inlet that she would forever think of as her own. Next came several studies of a sunny, seaside bay, ringed to the beach’s edge with one and two story buildings set very close together. To the last of these, she’d chalked in traces of color--vivid blue for the water, pale pastels on random buildings--and had treated the sketch with a fixative to keep the chalk from rubbing off.

“These are lovely, Scarlett,” he exclaimed, absentmindedly massaging the stretch of skin between her shoulder blades. His touch felt blessedly cool on her sun warmed flesh.

“You needn’t sound so surprised, Professor,” she replied coyly, so that he chuckled and laid a kiss on her shoulder.

“I’m not, darling. Truly, I’m not.” He drew a deep breath, then added, “Though I’m curious about where these are from.”

Scarlett paused a moment, recalling those endless, sunny days and balmy, starlit nights. “They’re from my time in Mykonos, at the end of my gap year.”

“Clearly, you found the place enchanting, my dear. Why, it nearly leaps off the page!”

She watched his profile as he leaned in for a closer look. “Do you really think so?” How happy it made her to see his enthusiastic response!

“Absolutely,” he assured her, giving a low whistle of appreciation, “And if I had to guess, I’d say that you were at least a little bit in love with the place.”

“I...I was...” she breathed softly. And with a beautiful young man there. My dear Benedicktos.

Inevitably, the next series of sketches raised Hennessy’s curiosity even further. “And who’s this?” Scarlett heard a trace of judginess creep into his voice.

“Oh...um...an artist I met while I was there...” Artist, sculptor--and if only our stars had aligned properly, he would have been my first. My first lover.

“I see...” And surely Hennessy could see her true feelings for her Bene, pictured in the loving way she had drawn his lines and angles. One page was filled with thumbnail sketches of just his face in profile. She had worked a couple of those into larger versions, and chalked color onto them as well. They showed a thick, unruly crown of dark, windswept curls. Smooth, well tanned skin and a sensuous looking mouth. And eyes of pure sea green.

“I think you were at least a little bit in love with this boy, too,” he observed quietly, and he gave her a beat to respond, though she could not for the lump in her throat. “Weren’t you, Scarlett?”

She took a deep breath, gathering her composure as well as her wits; she would not share that golden time with Hennessy. Not yet, anyway. “I suppose I was, at least a little bit...but then, it’s easy to fall in love in a place like that...”

“I suppose it is, little lamb. And lucky boy he must’ve been.” To her wonder, his smile felt a little false. He couldn’t possibly be jealous, she told herself; doesn’t he realize I’m his completely? 

She tried to turn rapidly over the following pages, but Hennessy stayed her hand, determined to see the full story. Scarlett had draw Benedicktos sitting shirtless and cross-legged at the water’s edge. Standing and gazing out at sea, watching the sun set. Smiling vibrantly, cheeks creased with rows of dimples, while he appeared to be laughing. The last sketch showed him shirtless again, his smile softer but no less dazzling, as he stood in the prow of a fishing boat, a tall line of verdant cliff tops in the distance, the blue of the sky just a little lighter than that of the Mediterranean. 

Her teacher had gone silent as she flipped past the last page in that series and put the pad down. “Hennessy?” She placed her hand on his, where it rested on the table. “That was years ago. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime--once I got home, my mother fell ill for some time, and...and we fell out of touch right away.” He nodded and smiled, but she felt she needed to offer more. “That’s how holiday romances go, right? Golden but fleeting...” And now my heart belongs to you. Forever, by the feel of it. 

“Yes,” he nodded again, and she wondered if he caught the flavor of that thought, for he raised her hand to brush his lips against her fingers. He studied her face a moment, and his sunshine smile returned. “But I want to see them all, darling. You do have quite a talent.” 

And so they continued. Hennessy laughed genially at her studies of her little black kitten, Chaucer, ranging across her book shelves, warming himself on her laptop keyboard, and curled into a fluffy little ball upon her bed pillow. “I swear, he really did all those things,” she confided, glowing a little in the face of her lover’s generous regard, “It’s like he owns the place now, and I’m just the guest.” 

Hennessy clucked his tongue. “Bosh. We’ll see who runs the place when I come to visit. My will is certainly far stronger than his.” 

A little thunderstruck, she asked him breathlessly, “You’d come to see me at my flat?” 

“I don’t see why not,” he grinned, and then seeing what it meant to her, he issued a hasty disclaimer. “Of course, that’s no promise it’ll be any time soon, my dear. Timetable to be determined.” 

“Oh, absolutely,” Scarlett nodded, doing her best not to seem disappointed. It was too much, too soon to have expected, anyway. 

At last they arrived at the sketch, the one over which her anxiety had been gradually growing. The moment of truth. She averted her eyes at his sound of surprise, as he stood up and took the pad right out of her hand, to finally exclaim, “Well, I’ll be damned!” In the brief silence that followed, she could hear the thump of her own heart, hoping against hope that he had meant that in a good way. “Scarlett...darling...when did you do this?” 

She finally raised her eyes, to find such an open, soft expression on his features that her heart just about skipped a beat. “Yesterday. After I...left you in the study...”

Hennessy crooked his trademark, honest half-smile her way. “This...this is really good, my dear. And I have to say...quite...flattering.” 

Scarlett was memorizing the look of genuine wonder in those eyes that had the power to command her and cajole her. Frighten her for breathless moments, and just as effortlessly mesmerize her. Fancying that someday soon she’d capture the chameleon beauty of those eyes in this particular moment, in charcoal and in chalk, so to frame them and keep them well beyond the days when his interest in her finally waned. “I just drew the truth, my jo,” she shrugged, “Exactly as I saw it.” 

His mouth hung open as he reached to brush back some strands of hair that had fallen across her forehead, then stroked his thumb across her cheek. “You have a true artist’s eye, love.” His voice was the velvet caress she had come to crave. “And your romantic nature shines through in...all of these pieces. I am both flattered and honored by this...gentle version of me. By the beauty you’ve rendered to even my most...jarring...defects.” 

She bit her lip, and could only bow her head in thanks, else her voice might break with the tenderness he stirred her to. Jarring defects. His mysterious scars. How she ached to know their origin, and to give him comfort for whatever pain he’d suffered from them--though she knew she could not, should not, ask. But at least she knew she’d touched his heart in their regard, and that would have to be enough for now. 

Still tracing her cheek, Hennessy moved into a crouch beside her. The heat had brought a ruddiness to his face and the bright sunlight allowed her to study the soft smattering of freckles across his skin. Scarlett had a moment to think about how very much she’d like to capture this look on him, deciding that her Prismacolors colored pencils might be best, before he moved in close enough for kissing. “Would it be too vain of me to say that sketch is my favorite, darling?” 

“No. Not at all,” she breathed, contemplating how she might express on paper, the perfection of his cupid’s bow, the temptation of his tender lower lip. Even unto the wee scar that couldn’t mar it’s beauty, and which she had already tasted countless times, and hoped to taste countless more.

“Perhaps someday you’ll sketch me with the passion you expended on your Greek boy.” He was teasing her, of course; he had to be. He couldn’t know she was thinking exactly that. “In fact, I would enjoy that very much, Scarlett. To have you ply your...talent...on me.” 

Hennessy’s breath was on her lips now, the promise of his kiss achingly close. She shut her eyes, panting in anticipation. “Yes...on me, sweet Scarlett. On me, and me alone.” She whimpered beneath the searing power of his kiss, as though by accepting it, she’d made some sort of Faustian bargain--and thus he had claimed yet another piece of her soul. 

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tagging: @strangelock221b​  @ben-locked​  @ben-c-group-therapy​  @thelostsmiles​  @splunge4me2art​  @humanbornarchangel​  @tsukuyomi011​  @ravencatart​  @doctor-stephenstrange​  @letterstosherlock​  @emilyinnj4real​  @aeterna-auroral-avenger​  @frowerssx2​  @groovyfluxie​  @candie-girl22 

(And yes, my friends, I promise there will be watery fun to come in the next installment *grinning wickedly*.)