#you ever have those drawings that you think are gonna flop but you trust the process and then BOOM picasso?

[vcendent]

someone help me Kon is SO ✨pretty✨

[cinnamonest]

Hi weird request but what would Kaeya’s and Diluc’s s/o’s daily life be like ??? I’m really curious 🥺👉👈

No no anon not weird at all I like 👀

Tw: yandere, contains n/s/f/w

------

Unfortunately (for them, at least) they can't be with you all day, as much as they'd like to. Both have very important affairs to attend to, but rest assured you're occupying their thoughts the entire day. Diluc, thankfully (again, for him, at least) has some days where the only work he has to do is right there at home, moreso than Kaeya, but at least Kaeya gets some days off entirely.

Diluc's has more of a strict schedule. He's one to determine when you wake up and when you sleep, and he has to stay up a lot working on this or that, but even if he's staying up he'll make you go to bed on time, but a little while later you'll feel the shift of the mattress when he crawls in with you. He'll gently wake you up before he leaves in the morning, and give you just little things to accomplish. It's not immediate, but after you've adjusted to your new lifestyle, he'll give you little tasks around the place to do, cleaning things and the like. It'll take a while before you're trusted to cook things, at least those involving knives. Wouldn't want you to get any dumb ideas about attacking him or the staff.

Speaking of them, you'll never not feel eyes on you, outside of your room. Everywhere you go there's maids and other staff around, watching your every move, making note of anything you do so that they can give the detailed report they'll later be asked for. Don't expect any help -- some of them are sympathetic, but you'll quickly realize that not only are they all well aware of your situation, and not only are they all turning a blind eye to it, but they also are expected to report any instances of you trying to enlist their help. It gives Diluc an idea of how well you're adjusting. Of course, any new incoming staff will be secretly watched themselves -- any move to aid you in any way won't end well for them. In the end, hey, they all got a raise when you came in just as a way of keeping them silent, so they can tolerate the weight of the knowledge of your plight without doing anything. And you take care of some of the maids' tasks for them! Don't think they're gonna want to get rid of that.

Between assigned tasks and reading and, in his words, "approved walks with two or more staff through the vineyards for no more than ten minutes," you'll have enough to do until he gets back, which becomes earlier as time goes on. He's dropped his nighttime vigilante activities.

Now, on days when he has no one to meet and nowhere to be, and all the work to be done is right there at home, he'll keep you with him. Give you a book or a toy of some sort so you can sit in his lap while he does paperwork, keeping an iron grip on your waist. You can still do some little chores around the place after a while once you get fidgety, he likes watching it really. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around. On days like that, he tends to make everyone else clear out, or gives them the day off. He's too embarrassed to actually, you know, show human emotion around other people than you, and he gets irritated by other people talking to or looking at you. And, of course, because you'll inevitably end up bent over the desk a couple of times throughout the day.

At the end of the day, he's honestly one to really like physical affection. Just laying next to you and running hands through your hair is nice, he likes to spoon you with your back pressed against him and his hands around your waist, it feels very secure to him. Once he gets like that, he actually kind of lets go and sometimes just vents his stress and complaints, mumbling and grumbling about this or that thing that happened. It's actually really sweet, if, you know, you're at the phase of your relationship where you've allowed yourself to start becoming emotionally attached to your captor.

Kaeya's poor darling has a bit less to do. No huge pretty winery to run around in, you're more or less trapped in one room. Expect to read a lot of books in the near future. And he genuinely doesn't want you to die of boredom or anything, he will go out of his way to try and pick up things for you, not only books but also coloring books, puzzles, paper and drawing supplies, and other forms of time-occupiers. He doesn't want you going numb and unresponsive, he wants to keep your brain active so he can see all the cute smiles you have and hear your voice.

He won't wake  you up, though, you're too cute sleeping, so if you're easily woken up by him moving around, he'll briefly talk to you, tell you when he'll be back and so on. If you're a heavier sleeper, he'll just kiss your forehead and leave, maybe leave a daily note on the bedside table if there's anything important to be addressed. And your day will primarily consist of those aforementioned time-occupiers, there's not much else to do. Although, he's now taken to taking meals back with him to his own room rather than eating with the other knights, and for whatever reason seems to be taking almost twice the amount. Not that anyone cares enough to check into it. Honestly, poor darling, ya boy is whiny and an absolute drama queen. He's never had an outlet for it before, but now you get to hear all his complaints, talking about the people that irritate him, all the things he has to deal with, he gets all stubborn and pouty about it, blatantly overexaggerating everything he suffers through, hoping you'll reassure and coddle him over it, even faking dangerous occurrences or near-injuries in hopes you'll show some concern for his well-being. And then, he'll put on his daily routine of telling you how much he doesn't want to go back, hey maybe he can take the rest of the day off? Feign sickness? And the other possibilities he always goes through before you finally tell him to suck it up and go back to work.

At the end of the day, he comes back and, ever dramatically, flops down to tell you just how awful the rest of the day was, grabbing you from whatever you're doing and nuzzling into you, picking you up to carry you to bed. He's also very into physical affection! Just. You know. A very specific kind. Unlike Diluc he can't really separate the concepts of cuddling and sex and they both inevitably mold into each other. If he's gonna lay there and hold you after a long day's work, might as well exert some of that pent up stress.

On his off days, well, there's a lot more of that occurring. He's actually one who, much to your dismay, likes to stay in on off days, opting to lazily lay around, talk and talk (it's something he does a lot of, you know), and all that talking and muttering and hands moving and groping eventually progresses, peaks, and soon you find yourselves back to lazily snuggling and talking, only now naked and sweaty. And that's pretty much the entirety of those days. However, on the extremely rare and very gracious day, provided you've been exceptionally well-behaved, you may find yourself allowed to go out on a daytime excursion. Just be warned, it's only at your begging, as he'd lock you away forever if he could, and he's in a pretty pouty, bad mood the entire time. There are two ways it can turn out. One, you notice said bad mood and inevitably it ruins your own time, and you end up conceding to go back. Or, if you can ignore the pouting and cold silence and have fun anyway, good for you, but the trip will probably end faster since he doesn't quite like seeing how happy you are to be out among others.

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

part iv

~

October

We fell in love in October

That's why, I love fall

Looking at the stars

Admiring from afar

~

Hey everyone, welcome to Puck Drop Podcast. Today’s hot topic—well, it’s still the Lions. Here’s what I think. That Black Lupin two-tap was fantastic. Right, Mike?

It was, it was.

But here’s the thing—I think that’s going to make a lot of people okay with Lupin being, well, let’s be real, I might call it fast tracked to the NHL.

Fast tracked, Henry? I don’t know, the kid had all the qualifications.

Fine, fine, but I do gotta say…if Lupin doesn’t play well…what’s gonna happen then? With Coach Weasley, with Black, with the organization. I just think we’re on a slippery slope here—

~

“Jesus Christ, Pots,” Finn shouted. “Take my fucking eye out, why don’t you!”

James looked uneasily at the golf club in his hands. “Sorry. Wow, sorry.”

Logan just clicked his tongue. “I thought we were allowed to play golf because it isn’t dangerous.”

“That is why,” Finn said, and pointed at James. “Until this untamed, grass-bouncing, metal-swinging—”

“All right, all right,” Sirius chuckled.

“We’re drawing eyes, boys,” Remus said from his golf cart. He had his feet up on the seat and an iced tea in his hands.

Logan glanced at the party ahead of them. “Harzy, am I gonna have to buy some lady a cheeseburger from the clubhouse again?”

Finn just held up his hands in surrender.

“You know,” Leo said once Logan joined him in the cart they were sharing.

“Ouais, mon soleil?”

Leo smiled, eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses, then tapped his palm. “Didn’t think I’d ever find a golf glove attractive, and yet there Harzy stands.”

“Plaid pants and all,” Logan nodded.

“Those’re checkered, baby.”

Logan looked again. “Oh.” He shrugged. “Want to ditch and get a cheeseburger?”

Leo laughed. “Why did we come if we don’t play?”

Logan smiled, flipping his hat backwards and starting the engine. “To watch Harzy and Cap get competitive and James lose.”

Leo shook his head, then leaned back in his seat. “Loops, clubhouse, burgers.”

“Oh, thank God,” Remus said. “Bye, Black.”

Sirius raised his club. “Don’t you want to watch me win?”

“I am convinced this game can’t be won,” Remus said, and followed Logan and Leo’s cart in his own.

“The real win,” Remus said, squirting mustard onto his burger. “Would have been not getting up at seven in the morning to trip over sprinklers.”

“Preach,” Leo nodded. “Hey, what are you and Cap thinking for Halloween?”

Remus chewed thoughtfully. “Haven’t really started thinking yet. You?”

Logan snorted, stealing the mustard. “Knutty’s obsessed.”

“What?” Leo said. “I was a lonely rookie last year! Now I’m a…” he glanced around. “Non-rookie.”

Logan’s heart pulled at the correction. He nudged his knee against Leo’s beneath the table and felt Leo nudge back. Remus seemed to catch the brief silence.

“Watch Sirius make me dress up as the Stanley Cup,” he said.

Logan laughed. “Non, you’ve never won it, you can’t touch it. He’ll be the Cup, you’ll be him.”

Remus wrinkled his nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“I’m with Lo. He’s too superstitious,” Leo said. “No way.”

Remus gestured between them. “Three Musketeers?”

“Finn and Leo with a sword,” Logan said skeptically.

“What?” Leo smirked, resting a chin on his palm. “You don’t trust me with a sword?”

Logan snorted, pushing his palm into Leo’s cheek.

The doors to the club house restaurant sprung open.

“Victory is mine!” Finn shouted, and actually spun on his heel in a complete circle. “Victory is mine.”

Sirius slouched dejectedly into their booth beside Remus.

“Sorry, baby,” Remus laughed.

“Apparently he drinks from the keg of glory,” James sighed.

“It’s a quote,” Leo laughed.

“Muffins,” Finn grinned. “Bagels. Actually, burgers will do.”

Logan watched as Finn reached over and grabbed a fry from Leo’s plate and a bite of Logan’s burger. It was something they had started doing a lot—a public closeness they could always get away with. Finn unstrapped his golf glove slowly and close to Sirius’ face, who slapped it away.

“You’re not going to dress up as the Stanley Cup, are you?” Remus asked, turning his plate so his fries were in Sirius’ reach.

Sirius took his hat off to push his hair back before replacing it again and grabbing a fry. “Quoi?”

Remus looked at Leo and shrugged.

“Harz, do you trust me with a sword?” Leo asked Finn.

Finn smiled, dropping his voice low and flashing that crooked smile Logan had always fallen for. “You know I do.”

Logan just sent his eyes towards the sky, but his chest warmed at the smitten look Leo got, too, and he hailed a waiter for more food.

“Damn,” Finn said as their front door shut behind them. “Who said it was a good idea to go golfing in October? What do you say I mix us up some nice whiskey-warming manhattans?” He tossed his keys down and wrapped Logan up, arms around his waist and pressed a quick and hard kiss to his mouth. “Extra cherries for you, mon cherry.”

“Chéri,” Logan corrected, but he smiled into Finn’s next kiss, which was much gentler.

“Please,” Leo said, flopping down onto the couch. “That was the longest day of my life.”

“I can make it up to you with the longest night of your life,” Finn said, resting a cheek on Logan’s head. “Or we can.”

Leo smiled and stretched a little sleepily, pointing his toes. “I’ll take my whiskey first.”

Finn snorted and tweaked Leo’s socked feet. “You got it.”

Logan slid into a seat at their countertop. “Remember those ones at that bar you found in, where, were we visiting my family in Canada?”

Finn, reaching into the bar cupboard he kept meticulously organized, let out a whiskey. “I’d give that bartender anything she wants for that recipe.”

Logan sent Leo raised eyebrows, who snorted and looked back.

“Oh, would you now, O’Hara?” Leo laughed.

Finn looked up from scooping ice from the freezer. “Almost anything. Although, she was beautiful. Reminded me of this girl I dated for a second in college. Remember Hannah, Lo?”

“Oh, I remember Hannah,” Logan grumbled, and Finn kissed his fingers before reaching cross the counter to press them to Logan’s forehead. Logan just smiled—and he could smile about it now, sometimes—and patted the stool beside him with a look at Leo.

Leo pulled himself up with big eyes. “My crush wants me to sit next to him.”

Logan took out his phone with a playful glare. “You’re both sarcastic today.”

“It’s the golf,” Leo said dryly and slid into the seat next to Logan. “And you’re sweet.”

“I just like it when we all sit together,” Logan shrugged.

Leo laughed, hooking his feet around the legs of Logan’s stool to pull him closer. “How is someone so lovingly grumpy?”

“Please,” Finn said, stirring their drink. “Look at him. He uses it to get affection.”

Logan just smiled and reached for one of the crackers Finn put out before holding it up to pop into Leo’s mouth.

Finn sighed as he poured their drinks. “All right, I know golf’s not your thing. Thanks for coming with me, though.”

“Believe me,” Leo said. “It was worth it, you cocky golf glove.”

Finn snorted.

“Plaid,” Logan nodded.

“Checkered,” Leo amended.

“Ouais. Same thing.”

“No,” Finn said, looking up from their drinks, and Logan grinned, wrapping his arms around Leo’s waist.

“Non?” he asked.

Finn just slid their glasses towards them. “You’re fucking with me, Tremblay. Now, cheers to…”

Leo raised his glass, the other hand playing with the hem of Logan’s shirt. “Ring ceremony in a few days.”

Logan eyed the syrupy cherries at the bottom of his drink. Finn had given him two. He took a sip and let the thick sugar settle over his tongue.

“Can we display ours?” Finn asked, leaning his elbows on the counter. “All three in a row. I like that.”

Leo winced. “So many diamonds.”

“Why are you flinching at that?” Logan laughed.

“I don’t know, it feels flashy?” Leo took another sip.

Logan just pressed his nose against Leo’s jaw. “We deserve it.”

Leo smiled and turned into it, accepting a soft kiss.

“Jesus, Harz, how much syrup did you put in his drink?” Leo said, but gave Logan another quick peck.

“Probably not enough,” Finn laughed, and came around the counter. “I need to sit, my golf muscles hurt.��

“Right, those big things,” Leo said.

Finn just gave his own butt a tap and fell into their oversized couch. Even with all the space, they all still ended up pushed up against each other in one corner. Logan loved that more than he’d ever said out loud.

“Sweatshirt,” he said, and dropped another kiss to Leo’s cheek, took another sip of his drink and padded out of the room. He let his belt clink to the floor along with his pants and yanked his polo shirt over his head. His necklace got caught briefly in one of the buttons. He turned when two hands pressed to his hips from behind.

Leo pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then the top notch of his spine. “Want one of mine?”

Logan leaned back against him. “Ouais, thanks.”

But Leo didn’t move right away, just wrapped Logan up tighter. He pressed his nose into Logan’s neck and inhaled. Logan reached back and up, scratching at the hair that curled against Leo’s neck.

“Can I ask something?” Leo said, words muffled by his skin.

Logan stayed where Leo obviously wanted him, fingers kneading the back of his neck gently.

“Do you think coach is gonna start me?”

“In the opener?” Logan asked, and Leo hummed.

“Kasey thinks so,” he said. “Because it’s Bruins and I play okay against them.”

“You kill against them,” Logan said, and Leo finally pulled back with a last squeeze to Logan’s hip. He was quiet as he found the sweatshirt he knew Logan liked, and tossed it to him.

“Leo,” Logan prompted after he’d pulled it over his head.

“I know, I know,” Leo said, and smiled, rubbing a hand over his face. “God, I love the way you say my name.”

“And you call me the subject changer,” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“I just don’t think he will,” Leo said, crossing his arms as they walked back out to the living room. “I mean, I wish. I hope.”

Finn was sprawled out across the couch. He’d brought Leo and Logan’s glasses over and Logan took another sip of the warm whiskey before curling against one of Finn’s sides, Leo stretching his legs into Finn’s lap.

“What’s happening?” Finn asked, thumb rubbing against Leo’s ankle, knowing they got sore.

“Just thinking about the season,” Leo said. “Kasey said he thinks I’ll start. I can’t imagine why.”

Finn frowned. “Well, if Kasey was gonna be gone, he’d be gone. With the thigh, with the crazy off-season. I mean, the League’s shifting around there’s no doubt about that. I think it’s calming down now, though.”

Logan curled closer to Finn, reaching out for Leo’s foot, too, tracing the shape of the nike logo across the top of his sock.

“And Kase’s the starter,” Finn said. “That’s what the organization knows, that’s what the city knows. I…I say this with all the love for your skill, baby, but I’d be surprised if it isn’t Kasey.”

Leo nodded. “No, don’t worry, that’s what I think, too. I just…”

He trailed off and Logan gave his ankle a tug, making him sit up.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“Is this about bench time?” Finn asked.

Leo groaned. “I feel like such a fucking whiner saying it.”

“You can say literally anything to us,” Logan said, then smiled. “Leo.”

Leo just flopped his cheek against Finn’s chest.

“Maybe you’ll feel a little better once we get our rings,” Finn laughed, fingers running through Leo’s hair. “I know I will. I feel like…” Finn hesitated. “I don’t know. Every time I think about our ring, and our Cup days…I feel like I’ll never play the same again.”

Logan made an affirmative sound. “Yeah.”

“Really?” Leo mumbled.

“Nervous,” Logan nodded. “It all feels different. I thought it was Loops for a bit, but…Harzy, you’re right, I think it’s the Cup. I feel…I want it all over again, but it feels impossible.”

“I also…” Finn hesitated, stroking his hands through Leo’s hair a few more times, watching the blond curls slip through his fingers. “I loved our summer so much. I feel sort of guilty but…I miss it.”

Leo let out a soft laugh. “Thank God, me, too.”

“We get more of those,” Logan said, and it felt a little defensive.

“I feel selfish,” Finn said thoughtfully. “I have everything I want, and I want it again.”

“That’s not selfish,” Leo replied. “I think…I think that’s just human.”

Logan thought of the picture in Finn’s pocket and Harvard parties. He thought of long nights on the road, laughing with Leo over their sundaes. Logan had both wanted that over and over, but it had felt a little like poking himself with the tip of a knife over and over, too. He closed his eyes and let himself listen to them talk. Finn was agreeing, and then Leo was laughing. They ordered dinner for delivery, the Greek place down the street, and then sat in each other’s silence. Logan could tell Leo was still thinking about the season, watching the city lights out the window with Logan’s head in his lap. Logan stared up at him, at his blue eyes, dark in the dim light. His jaw would twitch every once in a while, a muscle clenched. Finn had a book open, slouched at the other end of the sofa.

Leo probably wouldn’t sleep well tonight, but sometimes Logan looked forward to their time in the dark together. Ankles tangled, eyes closed but knowing the other one was awake. They’d talk sleepily about the next day, until Logan decided enough was enough and he’d pull Leo against his chest, tucking the taller blond’s head beneath his chin for once.

Leo would hum contently. “What did I do before you, hm?”

Logan would smile. He used to listen to Leo toss and turn from one bed over, and now there was this. He loved that like air, too.

~

“Hey, rookie! Hold the door?”

Cole turned to see Thomas and his crutches, which seemed familiar now from him always sitting on the bench during practice. He was flanked by two people who could only be his parents.

His mother hit him lightly on the shoulder, laughing. “He’s got a name, Tom.”

“Hey, man, of course,” Cole said and looked down at Katie, who was holding his hand. “Gotta switch hands, okay?”

“No, I can do it,” Katie said, and flattened her back against the door. “Does it hurt all the time, Talkie?”

Thomas smiled down at her. “No, not all the time.” Thomas looked up and sent Cole one of his bright smiles. “Thanks. Sick tat, by the way. I don’t think I’ve said, but I’ve thought it.”

Cole’s hand instinctively went to his collarbone as he let the door to Olivander’s Hotel swing shut behind them. “Thanks. It’s my number.” He huffed out a laugh. “I mean, obviously.”

“I’ve been thinking about getting one,” Thomas said, and wedged a crutch under his arm and tapped the center of his chest. “Not sure where, but I like the chest as a place to start.”

Cole smiled, nodding. “I—me too. Yeah, maybe we could…like, go together, or something. I was reading some stuff about the best places, and also Nado was telling me. Well, trying to tell me.”

Thomas laughed. “Kuny kept interrupting?”

Cole laughed, too, nodding. “In Russian, though.”

“That sounds like Kuns,” Thomas said. “And yeah, man, I’d love to. Do you have any ideas?”

Cole shrugged as he and Thomas showed their IDs, the Dumais’ and Walkers chatting behind them. “Hopefully something about Lord Stanley one day, but right now…maybe something for my mom.”

Thomas nodded. “She coming today?”

Cole nodded, not able to help his smile, turning his phone over in his pocket. “Her flight was delayed but she shouldn’t miss anything.”

They walked through the lobby, joining much of the team that was already there. The large round tables reminded Cole of a wedding, and the stage was set with a podium for speeches with the numerous ring boxes behind.

“Cole!” came a familiar voice, and Cole spun around to find his mother walking through the double-doors, as if talking about her had made her appear. He wished he had that power. Blake Reyes was in her usual bright colors, her dark hair slicked up into a bun that let her tight curls spill over her forehead like bouncing bangs.

“Be right back,” Cole said, and Thomas nodded, tapping his shin with his crutch.

“Mom,” Cole grinned, and wrapped her up tight. He’d been taller than her for years, but it still felt strange. The soft curves of her were familiar, though. “You made it. Okay flight?”

“Yeah, yeah, read my book,” she said, and pulled back to look around. “This place is nice. How are you, baby?”

“Olivander’s Hotel,” Cole said. “Apparently different places were fighting to have the ring ceremony. I’m fine.” He shrugged. “Feels kind of weird being here.”

“Maybe you’ll be getting one of those rings next year, hm?” she smiled.

“Maybe,” Cole laughed, and then, more timidly, asked, “Dad?”

Blake’s expression tightened, eyes sad. “No, sweetheart. I…I’m sorry. He’s…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Cole gave a short shake of his head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” she sighed. “But it’s…”

“Come on,” Cole said. “I’ll introduce you to Dumo and Celeste.”

His mother grinned. “Oh, my shy boy is growing up.”

“Shh,” Cole laughed. “Don’t say that to Sirius Black.”

“Say what to Sirius Black?”

Sirius strode beside him, hand in hand with Remus. It was Remus who had spoken, and grinned now, and Cole flushed at the good-natured chirp. Sirius just offered a shy hand to his mother.

Cole had a wave of surreality wash over him for what felt like the thousandth time as he watched his mother say call me Blake to Sirius Black, who he’d had on his wall for God’s sake.

It happened all anew once they were ushered into the ballroom for the presentation of the Stanley Cup champion rings. The team and management had been called up one by one, but they opened their boxes together. Cole wouldn’t get one, but he leaned over to see Finn’s, whose mother seemed to love his own, their heads bent close together, giggling. The ring was square in shape, too big to be worn on any practical day, and covered in small diamonds, some stones colored red and black to make the Lion. The golden band was engraved with name, number, year, and, of course, champion. The word took the air out of the room.

Finn blew out a shaky, awed breath, and Cole watched him look up, something like tears in his eyes. When he followed his gaze, Cole found him looking at Logan. It made sense, and made Cole even happier for the team. Finn and Logan had probably been dreaming of this since their college days together. Cole looked back at Finn to ask him about it, when Finn mouthed something that, to Cole, looked very much like the words love you.

Cole blinked, but Finn was leaning his chair back on two legs, then, whistling two notes that got Leo’s attention. Leo, who was crying—an act that made him look even more like his dad, sitting beside him and crying, too—let out a wet laugh and wiggled his fingers at Finn which he had put the heavy ring on.

“One day, huh, Cole?”

Cole looked at Mr. O’Hara, who was smiling kindly at him.

“Oh, yes,” his mother answered for him. “One day.”

One day. Cole wanted to believe it.

~

Well, folks, here we are. We here in the studio welcome you to The Lions pre-game show. Dean, opening thoughts?

Well, we’re up against the Bruins, who had a phenomenal season last year. And, of course, we’ll see some fun rivalries tonight. Marchand has never been a Gryffindor favorite.

Is he anyone’s?

Ha, all right, there, Lee, all right. The real point is we’ll have a full stadium, and this game is ready to set the tone for the season. I’m ready, Lee, are you?

Oh, you bet.

Sirius found Remus sitting with Layla, legs swinging slightly from his perch on the PT bench. Worry tweaked through him at first, until he realized that they were laughing together.

Sirius knocked lightly on the door. “Hi.” 

Layla looked up, still mid-laugh. “Oh, hey, Cap, come on in.”

“Just wondering where you went,” Sirius said, leaning beside Remus.

Remus shrugged, looking around the room. “I don’t know, this is where I spent every other pre-game. Felt right, I guess. I was coming back soon.” He knocked their shoulders together playfully. “You left your stretches to come find me?”

Layla made a cooing noise as she opened the door. “Gotta get this to Kasey, be right back.”

Remus’ expression morphed into one of concern. “Is it the—”

Layla put up a hand to stop him. She pointed to herself. “PT,” then to Remus. “Winger.”

Remus looked sheepish. “Right. Sorry.”

Sirius sent her a smile, but looked back to Remus. Remus pulled him in closer, allowing Sirius to be boxed in by his thighs.

“It’s a big night,” Sirius said, and pressed a light kiss to his mouth. “A good night. I wanted to be by your side.”

“Bruins,” Remus whistled lowly. “Let’s take ‘em.”

Sirius laughed, squeezing his hips. “I thought you were going say you’re worried.”

“What, about an original six team?” Remus laughed. “We’re the Lions.”

“Coach might put us out there together again,” Sirius said. “After pre-season.”

Remus ran his hands through Sirius’ hair. “My mind-reader.”

Sirius smiled, leaning forward to nip gently at Remus’ lower lip. “What am I thinking now?”

“That this is not your office, lovebirds,” Lars’ voice came. Sirius turned to look, only to see that he wore his usual strangely soft-stony expression. “I believe that’d be the front of the net for you, Black.”

Remus laughed, sliding from the table. “Sorry, man, we’ll get out of your way.”

Lars just looked down at a chart he held. “Black, stay a minute?”

Sirius paused, glancing down at Remus. “Uh, sure.”

Remus sent him a quick smile and slipped out the door.

“What’s up?” Sirius asked, crossing his arms.

Lars folded the pages of the clipboard back and set it on the counter. “I was trying to get you earlier, but it says there that you utilize the sports psychologist.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah. Heather’s been a big help to me.”

Lars nodded. “I’m not here to violate any confidentiality, I just need to know if you’re still with her regularly. This chart stops a few months before Lupin left. Is that correct?”

Sirius tilted his head. “Why do you…”

“If something happens, I like to know who is familiar with her and who is not, that way I can know who I can help and in what way. Mental health is just as important as physical health.”

That made Sirius relax a little. “Not as regularly, no.”

“Great, thank you,” Lars nodded.

Sirius offered a slight smile as he slipped out the door. Lars was direct and to the point in a way that often came with a new job. It reminded Sirius of Remus’ first days with the organization, trying to be as professional as possible. It was true, he hadn’t seen Heather over the summer at all, nor too much once their Cup run had begun. He smiled a little when he realized that he missed her.

Remus was strapping his pads over his bare chest when Sirius entered the locker room. He raised an eyebrow, and Sirius flashed him a thumbs up. James was talking to Thomas as he laced up his skates, Thomas gesturing with his crutches.

Sirius, finished with his routines with his eyes passing around the room. He found himself nervous in a way he hadn’t been for a few years now. The season after a Cup win was always strange for any team. He felt the old sting of you did it once, do it again. They way he used to feel about goals—about any good thing. That it only mattered if he could repeat.

He blinked against the onslaught, it brought heat to his cheeks.

You did it once, do it again.

“Hey,” James’ voice cut through, his hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

Sirius looked over at him, panic beginning to tickle his throat. He took a slow breath through it. “Quoi?”

James dangled his phone by two fingers like an enticing treat. “Want to see Harry pictures?”

Sirius’ mouth lifted. He scooted over a little in his stall, leaning in. He put his hand over James’ and squeezed. “Yeah. Ouais, please, I do.”

They made it through four before James looked over at him, contents replacing his glasses for the game.

“You’re good,” James said. “We’re all here.”

Sirius could only smile back.

~

Remus pushed away the nerves and let the crowd wash over him as, side by side with Cole, they took their first laps around Hogwarts stadium. It was their home opener.

Remus had only dreamed of this.

“Pretty perfect,” Cole shouted over the noise, and they grinned at each other before each shooting a puck into the empty net.

Before the game could begin, they would hoist the banner for their Cup win into the rafters to accompany the two others, won in 1941 and 1970. Hogwarts dimmed its lights, Remus stood between Sirius and Pascal, keeping his muscles warm, and a video began to play on the big screen.

“You know,” Pascal’s voice filled the stadium, much to the delight of the fans. His kind face appeared on the screen in an interview chair, the Lions’ logo out of focus in the background. He shrugged a broad shoulder and scratched a hand idly through they graying scruff on his cheek. “I wait for this all my life, and then I want more,” He let out a short laugh. “I’m the old guy, non? I love to succeed with my friends, my family.”

Logan was next, green eyes shy and watchful. Looking at him, you’d never guess at the fire beneath.

“It’s…” he began, and shifted in the way he did in front of the cameras. “It means more because of our team. We were lucky that it’s mostly the same guys this year.” A smile, a glimpse of fire. “Let’s do it again.”

The stadium roared and continued to do as Sirius appeared next. They’d filmed it a few days after all of the celebrations had ended, hoping to catch everyone before they left for vacation.

“It was everything to be asked to wear the C,” Sirius said. “And this team…I’ve changed a lot with them. Each and every one of them deserves this more than anything.”

“Proud Captain!” Finn’s voice could be heard off-camera, and then Remus heard his own laugh. He hadn’t even known he was going to be a Lion at this point.

Sirius shrugged. “Ouais? Yes, yes, of course.”

James, glasses winking in the camera’s lights, talked about his family, and then the banner was being raised to the cheers of the stadium, fans pounding on the glass. Remus spared one glance to the Bruins, who had to sit silently on their bench through it all, but just smiled.

He wanted a Cup. He wanted it on the ice this time.

The national anthem played, and Remus felt Sirius’ presence close to his back, even while he watched Finn drape his usual hand over Logan’s shoulder.

“Mon Loup,” Sirius whispered.

Remus turned his head slightly.

“Love you.”

Remus smiled. The words were just breath, most likely Sirius wanting the moment to be private, to avoid the camera reading his lips. Remus turned fully around as the lights came up, just before Sirius was due to jump the boards for a face off.

“Love you,” he said, and Sirius grinned.

Bergeron won the first and carried it easily up towards Kasey, only for Olli to intercept his pass. Sirius caught it on his stick, shot it to James—

Coach called his number, along with Jackson’s and Evgeni’s.

Remus hopped the boards and the whistle blew.

“Too many men!” the ref shouted with his crossed arms.

Remus blinked, coming to a stop. He looked back towards the bench, where he was being motioned back.

“Eh, confused there, Lupin?” Marchand called, which got him a hard shove in the back from Evgeni.

“You confused,” Evgeni said in his deep voice, and the whistle blew to re-set.

Remus tried not to blush as he skated to line up for the face-off, but he was surprised. He’d looked, hadn’t he? He hadn’t misheard? It was a bad change, that was all.

Evgeni won it, but Remus flubbed his pass and Pastrnak scooped it up the ice and scored an early goal in Kasey’s glove.

Remus closed his eyes briefly, then flashed them open, hoping the camera hadn’t caught it. Hockey was fast.

Remus took a slow breath as Coach called him off the ice as quickly as he had been put on. As he slid onto the bench he felt Arthur give him a hard, encouraging thump on the back. That still wasn’t how he wanted to open his season, his career as a Lion.

“Loops.”

Remus looked up and accepted the helmet bump from Finn.

“I’m good,” Remus said. “Little startled, I guess. I’m fine.”

But he played three more shifts in the first.

The locker room was normal, buzzed off of the adrenaline, and Remus sat down in his stall, trying to ignore the way James and Sirius were dripping with sweat and he wasn’t. He sent Sirius a smile but otherwise kept his head down, not really wanting to talk. He remembered this from college. Everyone called him levelheaded, but he was as bad as Sirius was when it came to emotions on the ice—even if he hoped he hid it well.

“Yo.”

Thomas eased himself down into his stall beside Remus with a grunt, and propped his crutches beside him.

“Hey,” Remus said, then, unable to help himself—it was Thomas, after all—asked, “Did it all look as bad from the box?”

“Re, it’s your first shift of your first NHL game,” Thomas said, slinging an arm around Remus’ shoulders. “The big lights get everyone. Even Remus Lupin.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus said, running a towel over his face. “I don’t know.”

And he didn’t. He glanced towards Sirius, but he wasn’t looking at him, determinedly re-tying his skates and still talking to James. Remus didn’t want to say he’d expected some comfort, but he didn’t much like the the silence, either.

Thomas clapped him on the back. “Worry just makes it worse, yeah?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, my specialty.” He smiled. “I’ll be fine. It’s just one game. Thanks, T.”

Remus rose as they were called back out onto the ice, pushing his helmet back on and lingering a bit to take his place just in front of Sirius. He watched as Sirius hyped his team up, cracking jokes and tapping sticks. The perfect captain. Remus reached him with a strange feeling. It wasn’t until Sirius’ eyes found his that he realized he felt like he’d let Sirius down. He blinked, startled, heart beating quicker with the added nerves of not wanting to feel that way.

Sirius just smiled, softer, his smile saved only for Remus, and pressed their foreheads together.

“Love you,” Sirius whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Remus blurted, and that hadn’t been what he meant to say.

Sirius’ expression immediately morphed into one of concern. “Re, non…” he glanced at the staff lingering about.

Remus didn’t want to talk about it here, not where people could hear.

“Love you,” he said, and ducked through the tunnel.

~

Remus was ready for October to be over. He tried to breathe through it—this happened sometimes, slumps were part of hockey—but the timing couldn’t have been worse.

Marlene tried to keep him away from the worst of the press, and Remus tried not to look, but she couldn’t stop what reporters he did do media with from asking the hard questions. How did he feel about his performance? Or, the even worse occasional one—how did he think Sirius felt about it?

If someone asked Sirius that, he went back to his unreadable, stony expression and gave them nothing. Remus only wished he had such a poker face.

“Re,” Sirius called from the bedroom. “Almost ready?”

Remus took a breath and tried to push thoughts of hockey away, laughing a little at himself in the mirror.

“If you are.”

“Really really not ready,” Sirius laughed and entered their closet. He let out a groan. “I knew I was going to find this hot.”

“I am not,” Remus said. “Jeez, it’s ridiculous.” He turned this way and that, looking at his swede, fringed pants, cowboy boots, and wide brimmed hat. “The vest, too. Now you on the other hand…”

Sirius sent Remus a sheepish smile and looked down at his Captain America costume. “I was going for irony.”

“Nothing ironic about Canada’s ass.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but he was blushing as the doorbell rang downstairs.

Remus turned away from his reflection and looped his arms around Sirius’ neck for a hard kiss. “Show time, Captain.”

~

“Oh my god,” Remus heard Finn say over the kids’ halloween movie and the chatter from the kitchen as he swung the front door wide to his and Sirius’ house. “Oh my god, what is it with the PTs and the ref outfits? Remus, come look.”

Remus arrived in the entrance hall to Layla narrowing her eyes playfully—indeed dressed in an oversized referee shirt and cute, flared black jeans.

“We don’t get all the days off you guys do. Maybe its a lack of free time. Not to mention—” she rubbed her fingers together.

Finn laughed. “All right, point taken.”

“Come on in, Layla,” Remus said. “Ignore him.”

“Okay, cowboy,” Layla said, looking Remus up and down. “Damn.”

“Nothing for me?” Finn said, and spun in a slow, cocky circle, the black and yellow stripes of his costume, and his antennae bouncing.

Layla snorted, shaking her head. “What the hell are you?”

Finn looked offended. “I’m a bumble-bee. And Leo's the beekeeper, and Lo’s honey. Can’t miss him, he’s got a big, round foam honey jar on.”

“Ah,” Layla laughed. “Of course.”

“Come on,” Remus said. “I’ll get you a drink.”

Layla whistled as she followed him into the kitchen. “This house is huge.”

“Sirius bought it without a clue of what he wanted,” Remus said. “I’ve been trying to warm it up a bit.”

“It’s working,” Layla said, looking at the pictures that lined the walls. She pointed to the one of Sirius kissing Remus with the Cup. “God, I love this.”

Remus smiled, the memory flooding him with warmth. “Me, too.”

“Ooh,” Natalie, leaning back against Kasey’s chest, raised her glass to Remus. “Ride ‘em, cowboy.”

Remus fixed her with a wry look. “Are you going to say that every time I walk into a room?”

Natalie, sparkling in her finger-curls and 1920’s flapper dress, flashed a smile. “Yes.”

“She starts talking in an old Hollywood voice every time she sees me, so,” Kasey, looking broad in his old-fashioned suit, shrugged. “She’s not lying.”

Layla laughed. “I mean, I would, too, if I was dressed like that.”

Natalie grinned and walked over to loop her arm with Layla’s. “Let’s go see what movie the kids are watching now.”

“Yes,” Layla gasped. “Booze and Holloweentown.”

Remus watched the way Kasey looked after Natalie fondly as the girls disappeared.

“All good?” Remus asked, popping himself another beer.

“Hm?” Kasey looked up. “Oh, yeah. Just…looking. She’s leaving soon, for a couple weeks, to go see Alex.”

“That’s sweet. I’m sure he misses her.” Kasey came to lean against the counter beside him with a long sigh. “Sometimes it feels like all we do is miss each other.” He paused, biting his lip. “Do you…do you ever feel like you have everything you’ve ever wanted, but that you’d still change something? Like…like there are multiple versions of your life that include certain things and not others…but you’d still have everything you’d ever want?”

Remus’ smiled a little. “I…I think I’ve lived that. I lost hockey for a bit…but I got Sirius.”

Kasey smiled. “Oh, yeah.”

“Feel lucky you feel that way,” Remus said. “I’m not sure its as common as we think.”

“Speaking of,” Kasey said. “Where’s your everything-you’ve-ever-wanted?”

Remus laughed loudly. “Uh, hmm.” He looked around, not actually sure of the last time he saw Sirius. “I don’t know. You’d think I’d remember the last time I saw those spandex.”

Kasey laughed too. “I’d think so.”

Remus pushed up. “I’ll find him.”

“Let him know dinner’s soon!” Sergei called from the back door. It let cool air in from where he was checking on the ribs, Celeste beside him with a martini, seemingly inspecting his BBQ sauce.

Remus watched Sergei wave her off, claiming it was secret, before turning up the stairs. He thought for a moment before turning towards their bedroom and smiled to himself when he saw the door was clicked open.

“I thought I might find you up here,” Remus said, setting his cup down. He looked around the small room. The shelves were empty of stray photographs now. Remus had hung them up all around the house as a surprise, and Sirius had come home one day to a hallway, living room, and kitchen full of them.

Sirius looked up from where he was sitting on the bed—just where he’d been sitting that night, one year ago. He’d left his shield somewhere—no doubt with Adele—and was turning a beer slowly between his palms.

“Just thinking,” Sirius said, then motioned down at the bed. “Sit with me?”

Remus settled close to him, and Sirius turned to press a gentle kiss to his temple. “How’s the party?”

“Good,” Remus nodded. “Kids are watching a movie. Apparently Nat’s going to visit Alex. God, that’d be hard.”

Sirius hummed in agreement.

“Oh,” Remus laughed, remembering. “Layla showed up dressed as a ref.”

“No,” Sirius grinned. “God. I feel like I opened the door for you yesterday.”

“Mm. Sexy fireman.”

“Oh?” Sirius said, then took Remus’ drink from him and set them down on the floor.

“What?” Remus asked, only for Sirius to flop back on the bed, pulling Remus with him.

“My hat,” Remus said half-heartedly, watching it tumble off the side of the bed.

Sirius just made a noncommittal sound and turned on his side, pressing up on an elbow to lean over Remus. Remus reached up to twirl a strand of his dark hair around his finger. He’d left it loose, curling at his chin.

“Captain Québécois,” Remus said and Sirius just rested a hand against his chest.

“A lot has happened in a year,” he whispered, the room dim around them and the laughter filtering up from downstairs. “Do you ever feel like we’ve known each other forever?”

Sirius had said that before, but Remus loved it just the same.

“I feel like I’ve known you forever, and I’d take one more forever, too,” Remus said.

Sirius leaned down for a quick kiss. “Me too.”

Remus reached into the tight material of Sirius’ costume for his 12 pendant, studying it in the dim light. He’d almost kissed Sirius right in this spot one year ago tonight. He’d felt so confident about it, about loving who he wanted to love, about that person being Sirius. He still felt that way, and he wished he felt the same now, in the rest of his life, on the team.

“Can I say something?” Sirius said.

“Hm?”

“Opening night,” Sirius said. “You said sorry.”

Remus flushed. “I know.”

Sirius cupped a palm against Remus’ cheek. “Re.”

“That’s not—that’s not really what I meant,” Remus said, eyes on the twelve. “We don’t really have to talk about it now, we should probably go back down. Sergei said to tell you that dinner’s almost ready.” Remus tried for a smile. “He won’t share his secret sauce with Celeste.”

Sirius tilted his head, expression flickering as Remus pressed a lingering kiss to Sirius’ mouth and sat up, picking up his drink.

“Should we go down?” Remus said it in one breath, holding out his hand. “Logan’s wearing a giant honeypot and I really need a picture.”

Sirius locked their fingers together, concern still lacing his features even as he smiled. “I’ll sneak one. I’ll hand him Katie. He can never resist her.”

Remus laughed as they walked down the stairs hand in hand. “That’s true.”

Sirius pulled him back with a gentle tug before on the landing before they could rejoin the team.

“We don’t have to talk about it. And I know these games have been rough,” Sirius said, and Remus bit his lip as he looked up at him. “But I’m so proud of you. And I love you.”

Remus couldn’t help but lean back into his chest. I feel like I’m letting you down. The words echoed in his head, but he couldn’t quite force them out. I feel like I’m letting all of you down.

“I’m proud of you, too,” Remus said, and despite his thoughts, his smile was real as Sirius kissed him and led him back to their family.

[sotheywrotestories]

The They Them Agenda

Request;

you know it :) maybe an enby reader x bucky? He's really confused by their pronouns and some fluffy explanation? ooooo or their first time sleeping in the same bed and maybe mentions of a binder and explaining what that is?

- @mad-malory

(Sorry this was so late)

Pairings; Bucky x Nonbinary Reader

Warnings; None, although there are mentions of a chest binder :)

***

Bucky grew up in a different time. Not that he necessarily had a hard time adjusting to modern times, but he wasn’t caught up with all the dynamics of the world.

Which is why he always thought (Y/N) was a group of people the Avengers out before Steve introduced them to Bucky.

“Buck, this is (Y/N), they’re from our downtown office,” Steve presented (Y/N) to Bucky, who, in fact, was only one person.

“Hi…nice to meet you,” Bucky grimaced. Not because (Y/N) had given him any reason to, but because he was so awkward.

“Hi, Bucky!” (Y/N) reached their hand out to Bucky. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Steve talks about you all the time.”


Bucky tried to let his genuine smile come through this time.

“Likewise…I was under the impression that you were a group..but you know how Steve is,” Bucky huffed a bit.

(Y/N) gave Bucky a rather strange look. One of those “no-I-don’t-really-get-what-you-mean” looks.

“Right…well, I’m gonna go move in.” (Y/N) turned to Steve. “Thanks for letting me stay here while we rebuild, Stevie.”

(Y/N) gave one last smile to Bucky, then went on their way.

“Buck, ask (Y/N) about their pronouns when you have the chance,” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “It took some getting used to, don’t worry.”

Bucky was even more confused. Not only was (Y/N) not a group of people, but now Bucky had to have them give him a grammar lesson? He knew he was old but it’s not like he forgot everything he learned way back when.

It must’ve read on his face.

“Trust me, Buck. Things are different now, people are different now. I don’t want you to accidentally hurt anyone just because you don’t know what’s going on.”

***

Bucky heard everyone in the tower refer to (Y/N) as if they were more than one person. Bucky wondered if there was some joke that he just wasn’t let in on.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Bucky smiled at (Y/N).

It wasn’t often that Bucky and (Y/N) really got to interact, they were both very busy.

(Y/N) spent most of their time studying and working from their room. Bucky liked to spend most of his time not being around people for as long as he could. So to see (Y/N) in the kitchen made him very excited.

“Morning, Buck! How have you been doing?”

“I’ve been good. Really good. I’ve been going to therapy.”

Why in the world would he share that with someone he’s interacted with once?

“I’m so good to hear that, Buck! I’m really proud of you.”

It sounded so earnest Bucky almost didn’t know what to do with himself. It wasn’t often people actually cared about what Bucky had to say. Nonetheless, someone he barely knew.

“I um..thank you.”

The pair shared a smile and (Y/N) went back to their tablet.

“Oh,” Bucky started. “Steve told me I needed to ask you about your…nouns.”

(Y/N) laughed a bit but still smiled at Bucky anyway.

“My pronouns,” (Y/N) gestured for Bucky to take a seat. “My pronouns are different than something you might be used to.”

“What do you mean.” Bucky took a seat.

“Well,” (Y/N) took a big sigh. “You know there’s she and he.”

(Y/N) paused and Bucky assumed he was meant to nod. He did.

“I’m not him or her. Gender is much more flexible now than it was when you were growing up. I use ‘they/them �� pronouns because I’m non-binary. Not all non-binary people use ‘they/them’, some use other pronouns and some people use Neo-pronouns.”

Bucky was trying to understand. He truly was. He was always much more accepting than anyone he ever knew back in the ’40s. It wasn’t that he thought there was something wrong with it, it was just that he didn’t understand. How couldn’t you be a boy or a girl?

“I…don’t get it,” he said with a small smile. “Were you born that way?”


(Y/N) gave Bucky a thoughtful look.

Great. He’s done something wrong.

“Gender-wise? Yes, I was born this way. I’ve been non-binary as long as I’ve been alive. Not everyone is like that. Some people discover that they’re non-binary later in their life.”

That didn’t clarify anything.

“I should preface that your gender and your biological sex are two different things.”

Oh.

Oh oh oh.

So they weren’t talking about- oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) laughed. “My gender identity is different than the sex I was assigned at birth. But- even today, you CAN change your sex to fit who you really are.”

Bucky knew a little bit about someone being transgender, it was in the crash course Steve gave him when he really started adjusting to new life in modern times.

“Right. But your gender and sex aren’t the same things.”

“Well…,” (Y/N) heaved a sigh. “Sometimes it is, some people do let their gender and sex define each other. It really depends. That’s why it’s always best to ask someone what their pronouns are before perceiving them in any way.”

It made a little bit of sense.

“So you’re not a she or a he, you’re they,” Bucky said.

“Yes. So you know…gender-neutral. I just don’t feel comfortable being perceived as a man or as a woman, I’d rather be perceived as neither.”

“Got it. So that’s why everyone refers to you as they,” Bucky nodded.

It wasn’t a hard concept to grasp that “they” could be used in a singular term.

“Thank you for telling me,” Bucky smiled. “Sorry if I slip up and call you something else, I’ll do my best.”

“Well, thank you for listening,” (Y/N) smiled. “I look forward to working with you.”

***

Working with (Y/N) turned into hanging out with (Y/N) every minute of every day. They were so easy to be around. Hanging out with (Y/N) turned into sleepovers with (Y/N), which quickly turned into a very confusing ordeal.

They had shared a bed with Bucky before, but never when the weather had been so ungodly hot. 

Tony messed up something in the wiring and now the ac wasn’t working.

“Bucky,” (Y/N) whined, drawing out the y. “Let me use your arm it’s too hot.”

“(N/N), you’ve been hugging on my arm all day, it’s not cold anymore,” Bucky laughed. “Give it some time cool off.”

(Y/N) huffed and flopped down onto the bed.

“You’ve forced my hand, Barnes, I have to remove my clothes.”

Bucky felt his face heat up. A lot.

“You’ve caught me in m master plan,” Bucky threw his hand over his face. “I really just want to see you naked.”

“Psh- men.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Do you mind if I take off my clothes?”


Bucky gulped. “Do you? Mind? Not mine. Yours. Do you mind. Like- if I see. Would you mind? I don’t mind. I really don’t. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you do mind-“

“Bucky. I don’t mind,” (Y/N) smiled. “I’ll just take off my shirt.”

Taking off their shirt, (Y/N) exposed a nude-colored strap wrapped around their body.

“Are you hurt?” Bucky exclaimed.

The piece of clothing looked very similar to the skin-color wrappings Helen would give the team when they were hurt. It’s the only time Bucky had seen anything else like it.

“No…?” (Y/N) gave Bucky a weird look. “Oh, oh no. This is my binder.”

“Binder?”

“It’s…part of being the whole non-binary thing. I’m…I really hate the way my chest looks, but I don’t really want to get surgery on it, so I wear something super tight to make my chest seem flatter than it is.”

Bucky was starting to understand that it was anything related to gender that (Y/N) didn’t like. He never thought about its physical attributes.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. Sorry if I drew attention to it.”

“It’s fine, Buck,” (Y/N) smiled. “I should’ve warned you, I can see what it looks like to you.”


Bucky was grateful (Y/N) was so patient with him while he was learning more about people being non-binary. He truly wanted to understand everything about them before he made a move on them. Though, every time he thought he knew everything, (Y/N) has to teach him something new.

“Hey, Buck? Everything okay?” (Y/N) moved closer to Bucky. “I lost you there.”

“I just…feel so bad that you have to teach me so much,” Bucky plopped down on the bed. “It’s not your responsibility to have to teach me everything.”

(Y/N) gave him a soft smile and brushed his hair out of his face.

“I wouldn’t teach you if I thought you didn’t care. I can tell you care, that’s why I teach you so much.”

They can tell that he cares?

“You can tell?”

(Y/N) gave him the softest look he’s ever seen. “Buck, you’re easier to read than you think. I’ve been waiting on you.”

“I wanted to know everything before I made a move-“

“Why would you put that pressure on yourself, Buck?” (Y/N) sighed. “You’re never going to know everything about everything there is to know, neither will I!”

“But it’s your thing! It’s your identity!”

“And it’s always changing and there are always new things to learn. I appreciate the thought, Buck, it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. But you can’t put that weight on your shoulders.”

As if (Y/N) couldn’t get any more perfect.

“So…,” Bucky trailed off.

“So…make a move you goofus,” (Y/N) smiled.

And maybe he did.

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 5: Peace of Mind

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

I've decided that when I get to a point where the "choice" is made between Liu and Lao, the stories name will change to help avoid confusion. That way you can follow either path or both. Then I will try to update those as much as I can. I know where both are going for the most part. God, I'm such a cock-tease lol.

This bit is a bit shorter than usual but I plan on updating AGAIN tomorrow! Surprise: Kung Lao will be back tomorrow. Side note: should I draw MC? Anyone into that? And as always, open to suggestions and will include any I like.

Part 4 Part 6 Chapter Index

You jumped upright in bed, the breeze from the window making your sweat covered body shiver. Wiping your face, you searched the room and found that you were utterly alone. In your mind’s eyes you could see the writhing of bodies that had woken you.

It had been a dream.

A wildly inappropriate dream.

Hands trembling, you held your head in your hands. Your face was red and hot and when you closed your eyes, you could see Liu Kang’s strong body over yours and feel his familiar hands. You blinked your eyes and kept them open wide. “Oh boy.” You laughed at yourself and then flopped back against the bed with a frustrated whine. It had been miserably difficult not to let your imagination run wild the day before but apparently all your self-control disappeared when you slept. After the day you’d had and the tension that had built like static when you were fighting, how could you be upset with yourself?

You knew Liu Kang well at this point. Well enough that his touch was familiar. It was cruel and unnecessary of your imagination to do that to you during your sleep. How were you supposed to find your arcana when your brain was made of Liu Kang spaghetti? The attractive, confident, and kind Liu Kang was your teacher and you had to find a way to set a boundary between that and whatever this was. “Calm down, Y/N.” With that you took slow and deep breaths.

Adjusting yourself on the bed you crossed your legs and closed your eyes to meditate. But your imagination betrayed you, and you could feel his breath on your neck and hear his voice in your head. Pinching the bridge of your nose you laughed at yourself but flopped again on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

This was a natural thing. To be attracted to someone you were forming a new relationship with. You were finding your footing as friends and the draw between you would change with time. Deep down you were certain it was more than that and you were dismissing a very obvious attraction between them.

No matter what it was, there was no chance you would trust your imagination to let you sleep. You would have to clear your thoughts and find some peace before you could rest again. Getting up, you changed into the red and black flowing hanfu and decided to take a walk. That would get your mind off the day before and erase the memory of Liu’s, well, everything.

There were very few others walking through the temple that late at night. You decided that you hadn’t slept for long before your dream had woken you. Not dwelling on the memory of it, you kept walking until you were utterly lost and honestly nothing had felt quite as good or wondrous in some time. Raiden’s Temple was beautiful and ancient. Exploring it made you feel like a curious child, which in your opinion, was better than a frustrated adult.

There were many sprawling hallways and you felt that this one was particularly high within the ravine. You caught sight of the night sky through an archway and leaned against the stone. A monk walked behind you with a polite bow carrying a heavy pot filled with water. You nodded in greeting and then stepped onto the platform. At the end of the short platform was a huge statue of Raiden, seated cross legged in meditation.

The sky was radiant, and you wished to be closer to it and considered the roof but instead you set your eyes on the hat of the statue. You carefully climbed up with a few skilled jumps and then sat atop the edge of the hat, overlooking the ravine. Below you could see the fight pit, but it appeared small from there.

Seated atop the statues wide brimmed hat, you got comfortable and admired the brilliance of the night sky. The glassy moon filled the night around it with brilliance, dimming the stars in its halo. Wisps of pale clouds traversed the sky as if carried by invisible birds. You could see the milky way and the sparkling of stars that you had never seen before. You couldn’t remember ever thinking that the sky was this magnificent. In those moments you felt lucky to be alive and privileged to see the world in such a way.

It seemed funny then that your home popped into mind. There had been times where you’d sat on the roof of your apartment above the dojo and watched the sky, but it had never felt like this. That life felt so foreign now that you were oddly detached from it. Hopefully, your sister was okay. Your mother had passed away years ago and your father had stayed with your sister while you took care of the dojo in his honor.

Did they think that you died in the fire? What had become of the dojo? Had any of it survived? Did they think you’d done it and murdered those men? Were you a wanted criminal now? Had Kung Lao told anyone what had become of you? You had a thousand questions for your childhood friend, but you weren’t sure that you were ready for the answers either.

“Y/N?” You sat upright and turned in search of the voice. Liu Kang was staring up at the statue curiously. You peeked over the edge and offered him a wave despite your stomach doing a flip at the sight of him. With a confident grace, he leapt atop the statue and joined you. You returned to your spot, sitting comfortably on the hat and he sat next to you. Together you stared into the starry night, admiring the beauty of Raiden’s Temple. Every so often you heard the footsteps of another monk making their way but there was little else besides Liu’s controlled breathing and the occasional shifting of his prayer beads from his hand to his wrist. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You decided to be honest. You weren’t a big fan of lying but telling Liu the absolute truth of your dream was a level of embarrassment and honesty you weren’t prepared for. “My mind and heart were all jumbled up, so I came to find some peace.”

“Did you find the peace you were looking for?”

“I did.” You decided with a smile. What you were feeling toward him wasn’t a bad thing, you’d decided. It was a conflict in your mind still, but not all conflict was bad.

“Seated atop a dangerously tall and ancient statue overlooking the most perilous of pits?”

“The view can’t be beat. And it’s private.”

“And yet I invaded your privacy as I often seem to do.” Liu turned to face you, his arm rested against one knee.

“It’s only an invasion if it’s not welcome, Liu.” You reassured him. Silence fell again but it wasn’t the warm and comforting silence you’d become accustomed to with Liu Kang. He radiated with both fire and uncertainty. “Are you okay?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He brushed his fingers again over the prayer beads. “I decided I would check on you and as I made my way, I felt that someone was up here.”

“Oh?”

“Your energy is tangible,” he said all while avoiding your eyes. Your eyebrows shot straight up your forehead.

“So, you knew it was me?” The butterflies were back. He was good at that. Liu nodded. “That’s remarkable.” So much for peace of mind. Were you ever going to manage sleep again without your renegade thoughts getting carried away? “I’m glad that you found me.”

“Your energy reminds of a shadow flickering beneath the lamplight. I’m curious. Can you sense my energy, as well?” The confidence had returned to him. There was still something beneath his confident exterior that you couldn’t decipher, and you watched his thumb carefully brush over each of the beads in his hand. “I think it could be common to sense others with a dragon marking.”

“Yes, I can.” You chose your words carefully. “I always thought that your presence was fiery, but I didn’t realize that was literal until earlier.” Liu turned to face the edge of the statue again and his brief smile faded. You adjusted to face him better, careful of your footing. “What’s on your mind, Liu?”

“You were in my dreams.” He seemed sad. Inwardly, you panicked. He’d been in your dreams too, but something about his demeanor made you feel as though it were in a quite different context. How were you supposed to process any of this? “I lost you.”

You made sure not to let the sigh of relief be audible. “You lost me?”

“Not the best phrasing but no less the same. You died.” Liu said this with such finality that it shook you, and a chill ran down your spine. “I couldn’t go back to sleep with that image of you in my head. Selfishly, I needed to see your living and breathing self.”

“Liu…”

“I know that you’re capable, Y/N. I can see why Kung Lao values you so highly. I suppose that it is natural to fear for someone that you’ve bonded with. And we have bonded, haven’t we?” You were at a complete loss for words. He’d said a lot without saying much at all and you were left to interpret it as you would. What terrible timing. Your heart was so confused. “Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong. We’ve bonded.” You decided then to confess at least part of what was keeping you awake that night. No details, just a small bit of truth. “I dreamt about you too. It woke me up and when I couldn’t find the peace to return to sleep, I wound up here.” You smiled weakly and turned back to face the sky. “I tried to meditate the stress away but in truth I’m used to meditating with you, so it brought me no peace.” Liu seemed oddly relieved by your confession. If only he knew the truth. You weren’t sure how he would react. In fact, your face burned just thinking about it.

“I assure you that I’m capable, Y/N. I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” You said nothing else on the matter. He hadn’t been in danger in your dream, in fact, quite the opposite. You sat in silence again and much to your surprise, he shifted, scooted closer and slipped his arm around you shoulder. His hands were warm even through your sleeves.

“Until you’ve mastered your arcana and healed then you are the one that we should worry about. There’s still time before the tournament, but it doesn’t mean that we will be entirely without danger.” Liu gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “The sooner you can control your arcana, the better.”

“I know that with your help I’ll manage sooner rather than later.”

“That’s a lot of faith in me.”

“In us both.” You smiled at him. He adjusted, arm falling away from your shoulder. You missed it instantly. His arms were warm and strong. “This is a hurdle we will conquer.” You turned to watch the stars again and pulled your knees closer to your chest, resting one arm over them, the other resting between you and Liu. Liu’s eyes were on you. You could feel them watching you rather than the sky. He needed to see that you were okay and that his dream was just that. Whatever came next, you were ready for it. One way or another, you would fight. Still, he did not turn his gaze and you were distracted by him. “You’re staring.” You let your gaze flitter to him out of the corner of your eye.

“You get this look on your face while you’re thinking. It’s fascinating to watch your expression shift and change even minutely.” The fondness of his voice was overwhelming. To be spoken of with such reverence made you feel better than anything ever had. “You feel your emotions very deeply. It is a gift.” He turned his gaze back to the night sky, right arm rested on his knee. His left hand then found yours between them and rested atop it.

You swore you might be blushing for the rest of your days at this rate. The fondness of his voice and the gentleness of his hand made your heart race. You supposed that when you thought about it, you had flirted on and off. At the very least you had grown fond of each other. There’d been plenty of close calls the last few days, but you hadn’t been sure if you were overthinking or not. But this moment was far more transparent. An arm around you. His hand over yours. Deliberate displays of intimacy.

You weren’t sure you could sit still much longer thinking like this, so you turned to ask him if he wished to study. Instead, you clammed up and found him far closer to you than you had anticipated. You could feel his breath, the warmth radiating from his energy, surrounding you like a distant and welcome flame. He admired your face, stopping at each of your features with his dark eyes, and then brushed your hair away. This was an intimacy that you had grown quite fond of but also it was different than before. His fingers left a ghost of a touch against your forehead and your cheek, gently tucking your hair behind your ear. The fear in his eyes had gone, the nerves and uncertainty had gone with them. All that was left to his stare was warmth and admiration.

His hand brushed against your jaw softly and then rested against your cheek, his thumb brushing just beneath your eye. He tilted you closer. Your heart stopped in your chest and you didn’t breathe for fear that it would stop him. It was a moment you never wanted to end. Eyes half-lidded you caught a glance of his lips, parted ever so slightly and nearing yours. Then a horrid crash echoed from behind the statue.

In an instant, you were apart and both sliding to the other side of the statue in search of the sound. Liu leapt from the statue gracefully and you peered over the side, catching your breath. Below you could see a monk there, speaking with Liu. There were pieces of something shattered on the ground. You carefully climbed from the statue to join them.

The monk muttered his apologies. Liu had bent down to clean up the shards of the pot that had been dropped. Water was spread over the stone floor. Your fingers were numb and the action of helping clean up the shattered pot felt surreal. Honestly, the entire night had felt surreal. From waking up from an inappropriate dream, to staring at the stars with Liu. The monk bowed his head and took the shards with him as he made his way to wherever he was meant to. You stood upright and fixed your hair. You could feel that Liu’s eyes were on you again. Even though you were no longer seated close together or even touching, the tension hadn’t faded.

“We should rest.” The fog of the moment had at least cleared, and you knew that if you didn’t go to bed now then you’d likely wind up doing something irresponsible with Liu Kang. Why were you resisting this obvious tug? It seemed oddly taboo, though you couldn’t place your finger on the reasons why. You were both consenting adults, so why shouldn’t you embrace this? Oddly enough, you felt guilty even at the thought.

These emotions were far too complex for the middle of the night.

“I’ll walk you to your room.”

“Thank you, Liu.” Together you walked through the hall of the temple and you were suddenly grateful to have him guiding you. You’d wandered so far and so aimlessly that you had no idea where you’d wound up. It would have taken you ages to find your way back. You opened the door to your room and leaned against it with a smile. “Try and get some rest, will you?”

“You too, Y/N.” He peered behind you into the room, and you followed his gaze to where the book laid on your desk.

“…did you want to read?” You were sure sleep wouldn’t come easily and Liu seemed reluctant to leave. You were reluctant to let him go.

“Are you sure? It’s late.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Liu didn’t ask twice and so you opened the door the rest of the way and allowed him inside with you. You sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, and Liu picked up the book and joined you at your side. His familiar voice was like a lullaby and only a few minutes past before you were drifting in and out of sleep with your head on his shoulder. If Liu noticed, he didn’t say anything or move you. He kept reading. Before you knew it, you were out cold.

[failedintsave]

I tried the MTL pairing generator for rarepair month...aaaand it told me to stay in my lane lol. And then it told me to write some Rachel/Roy Cornickleson which I just don't think I'm ready to take on 🙃 So here's some Skwistok set just before Doomstar that I've been fiddling with.

(gets just a little nsfw near the beginning)

Stages

Everyone handles grief differently.

Skwisgaar groaned as muscular arms pushed him against the wall, the reinforced metal door to his room on the submarine banging shut as they cleared the threshold. Hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place while lips and tongue and teeth worked over his neck. He clung desperately to the body pressed against him, fingers twisting in blue cotton material and yanking it upward. The mouth latched onto his throat pulled away as the t-shirt was hauled over his head and Toki's fevered eyes found his before rushing forward again, mashing their lips together with sloppy abandon. He gripped Skwisgaar by the belt, half dragging him as they stumbled their way to his bunk and collapsed. Breathing came in gasps and sighs as Toki's weight pinned him down into the mattress, the pressure both exhilarating and mollifying, an anchor to hold onto as the life he'd known for so many years turned upside down and twisted away in the wind.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of innocence, loss of trust, loss of opportunities. It was all meaningless, really. In his experience, something new always came along to fill the space so why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

Boots thumped to the floor, kicked off in haste. His shirt was peeled away before sturdy hands lifted his hips to free him of his jeans, calloused fingertips gliding back up his thighs and making him shiver. Toki climbed up to kiss him again, hungrily, as if trying to swallow him whole, their teeth knocking against each other. Skwisgaar ran his hands over every inch of skin he could reach, the hard lines of Toki's shoulders, the raised ridges of overlapping scars on his back, hip bones where they ground down against his own. Heat pooled low in his belly like magma aching to erupt. He wanted this, needed this right now, more than he'd ever needed anything in his life. How long had they danced around this, stealing moments and blaming it later on booze or post-show adrenaline, walking right up to the line and peeking over before backing away again? In the name of preserving band dynamics? A lot of good that had done, they'd still ended up where they are now, Dethklok tipping over the precipice into self-destruction.

Another loss to add to the list.

Toki pulled back, glacier blue eyes raking over Skwisgaar's features with manic light, chestnut locks of hair falling in disarray to frame his face. Skwisgaar reached up and tucked a strand behind his ear and Toki's expression shifted, the wild yearning softened into something gentler, less wolfish. He sat up to kneel between Skwisgaar's legs, hand skimming from his collar bone to his navel and leaving a trail of fire, over the inside of his thigh and dipping beneath, pausing until Skwisgaar breathed his assent, whispered his name.

Fingers tested gingerly, gradually increasing in depth and pressure before he gripped him by the waist and hauled him onto his lap. Skwisgaar canted his hips, lip catching between his teeth at the feel of Toki against him, his pulse hammering in his ears. His head angled back into the pillows and a wordless moan escaped his throat when Toki eased forward, back arching as lightning raced up his spine. Skwisgaar's fingers knotted in the bed sheets as Toki released a shuddering breath over him, rocking into him slowly, building rhythm into a steady push and pull.

Loss of professional boundaries. Definitely not something to be mourned.

The devastating sensation of fullness where they joined drove all coherent thought from Skwisgaar's mind and his eyes rolled back under closed lids, panting nonsense and expletives, begging for release. His toes curled as Toki matched stokes with his hand to the tempo of his thrusts, coaxing him through his climax until tipping over the edge after him with a whining sigh. Call and response, Skwisgaar thought dazedly as his superheated skeleton melted into jelly. When he could open his eyes again, his gaze landed on Toki's face above him, watching him with an openly heartsick expression.

"I… hads to do dat… at least once before dis ams all over." The broken whisper settled over him like a burial shroud.

Skwisgaar shook his head, holding out his arms. "Come heres."

Swallowing thickly, Toki obeyed, winding his arms under Skwisgaar's shoulders and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Skwisgaar shifted to find a comfortable position, their sweat-slick chests sliding against each other as he angled slightly onto one side, hand cradling Toki's skull to keep him near.

"Seem pretties stupids we aments been doing dat dis whole time, honestlies."

Loss of time.

Toki held him tightly and Skwisgaar felt the tremor in his grip. He rubbed his cheek against the crown of the other man's head, humming tunelessly as he waited for him to speak, knowing already the fears plaguing his mind. He'd faced them often enough in his younger days, even if the scenario now was more complicated. It was hard to compare wondering where your next gig, your next meal ticket, might come from to wondering where to go after you'd already stood at the top.

Sniffling preceded the feeling of wetness against his shoulder, Toki mumbling against his skin. "What happens now? Ams we all just gonna says 'fucks you, see ya laters' now dat de band ams done? Even now dat dey tells us we gots to plays music to saves de world?"

Skwisgaar fiddled with a strand of brown hair for a moment before answering. "Well, I don'ts know abouts all dis saves-de-woirld business. But whats I do know ams band break ups. And, euughh, ja dat ams a pretty standords opseratings procedures."

"But does it has to be likes dat? We coulds all stays pals, right?"

"Dat ams...compslickateds." He dropped the lock and let his hand fall to Toki's shoulders. "Somet'ing like dis...people tends to ezpecks yous to euughh, picks sides. It ams messy. And it never warks out, t'ings always comes apart in de end."

Loss of the longest working relationships he'd had in his life.

Toki said nothing, so Skwisgaar continued if only to fill the silence. "But it coulds be worse, you knows? We gots more moneys den god, what's so bad what cants be fixed wif dat?" The statement produced a cold feeling trickling down behind his ribs, like swallowing a heaping spoonful of snow. "Nones of it acktualies matters. Just goes on to da next t'ings."

"I just... don'ts know what to does if dere aments a Dethklok."

"Whatevors you wants! You coulds buy de whole stores of airplane models, or you coulds builds you own splasharoonies water parks. Hell you coulds probablies starts a new bands wif dose guys from dat T'underhorse group."

"No," Toki murmured, face still compressed against Skwisgaar's neck. "I don't wants a new band. Dis was da one."

The possessive satisfaction he felt at those words tied his stomach in guilty knots.

"Ja it ams was a pretty good gigs…"

Toki shifted, laying his head on the pillow next to Skwisgaar's, his forlorn gaze searching his face for answers. Skwisgaar rolled so they were laying face to face, legs still twisted under the sheets.

Not everything was tied up in the feud that caused the band to split. What if it didn't have to be a total loss? Surely there were parts here that could be salvaged.

"Okej...so who says we haves to do anyt'ings at all?"

Toki's brows cinched. "What you means?"

Maybe, just this one thing, he could keep.

Skwisgaar's lips curved with the ghost of a smile. "I's already mades it to de top, ams de fastest guitarist alives...coulds be I shoulds just quits while I gots de title, ja? Retires, takes my ball and goes home wif it."

Toki snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Builds mineself a giant house up in de mountains or somet'ing. Or travels and just fucks off on de resgiduals forever, not worries about a deadlines or demos ever again. Plays guitar just for funs."

He saw his grin mirrored on Toki's face as the other man nodded dreamily.

"Maybe you...comes wif me?" Fluttery nerves tickled behind his sternum. "If you wants to."

Toki's eyes widened. "Wait. Whats?"

Just this. He could be happy with this.

"Y-you means it? You aments just messings with Toki?"

He shook his head. "How long dids we waste before nows? For not'ing. I'm sick ofs waitings. Let's just goes."

A heartbeat passed, and then Toki's mouth was on his again. Less frantic this time, hopeful rather than desperate. He cradled Toki's jaw, taking his time as he returned his affections, deepening the kiss and tracing languid strokes over his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Their limbs wound together in a twisted bramble, bodies drawing tightly together, fitting like puzzle pieces.

A repetitive, discordant riff sounded from the pile of clothes abandoned on the floor and Toki's head jerked away. Flashing an apologetic grin, he rolled away to fish his phone from his pocket, sliding his pants up loosely around his hips.

"Sorries, be rights back!" He whispered, pressing the screen to answer. "Oh hei, Rockso!*

"Hows do you even has signals down here?" Skwisgaar called after him as he stepped into the hall, then flopped back onto the pillows to stare at the ceiling, counting the shiny rivets in the metal plating.

This was doable. Tomorrow they would bury more than just a mentor, they would lay to rest their careers as the biggest metal band in existence. The world at large would mourn their passing, but Skwisgaar wouldn't dwell on what's done and over. Not if he had new prospects to look forward to. Something always came along, and he never looked back.

"I tolds Magnus dat I woulds sit wif hims tomorrow." He heard Toki's muffled voice through the crack he'd left in the door.

A shadow passed over his thoughts at the name, like someone walking across his grave. It was uncomfortable to say the least, to have their former guitarist back in the fringes of their lives. Toki had a habit of finding friendship in questionable places, but where the clown was mostly an annoyance and sometimes a financial drain, his relationship with Magnus left Skwisgaar apprehensive. It didn't ease his mind when Toki insisted the older musician was different now. How could he know? He hadn't lived with the man, hadn't walked on eggshells during every rehearsal or songwriting session, hadn't watched as he plunged a knife into a bandmate.

But Magnus had also saved Toki with his insulin. He'd been there for Toki as a shoulder to lean on when the band had started to fall apart, too preoccupied with their own issues to spare a minute for their youngest member.

So maybe Toki was right. Things change; he'd never expected that a wedge could be driven between Nathan and Pickles far enough to end their friendship in such a catastrophic way, but here they were. And if Magnus still harbored any resentment for the band, their breakup was probably a balm to the old wound of rejection. What else could he wish on them? He was probably loving this.

The door scraped shut and Toki slipped back into the blankets gingerly, as if expecting Skwisgaar to be asleep. When he saw that he was still awake, Toki leaned in with a grin.

"Sorries...now, where was we…?" He murmured, capturing Skwisgaar's lips tenderly. "Oh ja, you was tellings me how we's gonna runs away togedders into de sunsets."

"Pfff. Dat am hardlies what I saids."

More kisses peppered his cheek and jaw. "Dats what I heards."

"Well I always knew yous was tone deafs, I didn'ts realize you ams just all de way hards of hearingks." His arm encircled Toki's back as the brunette nestled in again.

"Tells to me about wheres we gonna goes. Tells me about our house on tops of de mountains."

Skwisgaar snorted. Of the two of them, his was not the more vivid and fanciful imagination. But staring up at the blank canvas that the brushed metal panels of ceiling created, he envisioned a future for them to share. They squabbled playfully over locations and home design styles. They named off outlandish things they would fill their home with, like an even bigger ruby metronome or a trampoline room or an indoor pool shaped like a guitar and filled with champagne. They listed places they'd toured that they wanted to visit again, and locations they hadn't been yet but had always hoped to see.

"Can we gets a cat?" Toki asked suddenly, making Skwisgaar laugh airily.

"If we haves to?" He laughed again as Toki nodded against him. "But I'm not cleaningks up after it, dat ams all you, pal."

"Okei." Toki sighed deeply, settling in more comfortably. "Okei. I feels a lots less scareds now about all dis."

His hand glided up from where it had been resting at Skwisgaar's hip to lay warm over his heartbeat.

"I'll miss Dethklok. A whole lots. But now I t'inks I ams acktualies looking forwards to what comes next."

Still staring at the steel plates above, Skwisgaar grinned at the pictures they'd painted in his mind.

"Ja, me toos."

He covered Toki's hand with his own. However much they stood to lose after tomorrow, his heart felt lighter at what they were about to gain together. There was no reason to dwell on what was gone.

Everyone handles grief differently.

Laying on his bunk, Skwisgaar's eyes roamed the scuffed plate ceiling overhead, lingering on rusted rivets and water stains. The imperfections seemed to move and writhe like crawling insects under the influence of whatever handful of pills Pickles had given him. A half-drained bottle of vodka lay cradled against his chest, the mouth stoppered by his thumb. Fire burned in his belly from the alcohol, but cold fury pulsing through his veins tempered it.

He'd been prepared for Dethklok to end, had even accepted the idea that his career as a guitarist was over, diminished to a hobby. Playing guitar was his lifeblood, his purpose, and he'd been about to let that go. What had he been thinking? How had he gotten so wrapped up in fantasy that throwing away his entire self had seemed like a plausible course of action.

Loss of objectivity. Fortunately it seemed to be temporary.

He took a long pull from the bottle, dribbling a little and not bothering to wipe it away. Stupid Toki, needing to be comforted like a child with make-believe bedtime stories. He couldn't just man up and move on like everyone else, like Skwisgaar had been doing since he was a teen, finding his next audition, his next couch to crash on, his next temporary alliance with subpar musicians to make ends meet. It couldn't have been an easier landing for him either, no concerns about hunger or homelessness or deportation hanging over his head. He was set up for success and still couldn't handle it.

Fucking idiot needed so much attention, so much coddling, he'd even run straight into harm's way to try and make a friend. Of all people, he'd had to choose Magnus, that vindictive bastard. Of course he'd still been carrying a grudge, when had he ever let anything go in the past? And they'd known it.

A pair of divots on the ceiling stared back at him, one dark, one catching the light. Glaring back at him mockingly, winking at his impotent rage.

They'd known. They'd known, they knew, they knew.

Skwisgaar knew. And he'd said nothing.

Then he'd watched again, frozen, as Magnus drove a knife into someone close to him.

Skwisgaar thrashed upright, a strangled roar bursting from his lungs as he flung the bottle at the wall. He kicked at the bedside table bolted to the wall, denting it from below, then spun around to tear the sheets from his bunk and hurl them across the room. This wasn't the trade he'd prepared for, this wasn't the deal he'd made with himself.

His eyes fell on his Explorer propped in the corner. He reached for it, wrapping both hands around the ebony fretboard, holding it like an axe and swinging it against the wall. He bashed it into the floor, the dresser, screaming until his throat was raw and the guitar was cracked into useless chunks of wood and fiberglass connected by twisted strings. He dropped the pieces in a heap, sinking to the ground to lean against the side of his bed, his shoulders heaving with labored panting.

The door of his room scraped open, and in his periphery he saw a figure standing, backlit by the dim red glow in the corridor. Broad-shouldered, straight hair dangling about their head. His heart seized for a moment before the figure spoke, shattering his hallucination.

"What are you doing in here?" Nathan's gravelly voice was cautious.

Skwisgaar didn't turn, eyes still focused on the debris ahead of him. The stainless steel guitar strings seemed to wriggle like worms in grave soil, consuming the corpse of his instrument. He waited until he caught his breath before trying to respond.

"What does it looks like I'm doingks?"

Nathan shifted in the doorway. "Losing your mind."

He chuckled mirthlessly.

Loss of sanity? Maybe.

"You've been locked up in there a while. Maybe you should, you know. Come out here. With the rest of the band."

"Fucks off."

Nathan didn't move. Skwisgaar felt the urge to rage at the other man rise in him, to shout in his face, demand to know why it had taken him so long to patch things over with Pickles, why he let it go so far that he'd upset all of their lives so horrifically. But the feeling passed, his body drained from his previous outburst and from trying to filter a pharmacy's worth of substances through his liver.

"We're gonna find him, you know. Charles has people everywhere looking already."

One shoulder rose and fell in a halfhearted shrug. "Whatevers. Who cares."

They could have been a four-piece. If he really wanted to rage at someone it would be his past self. How different would things be right now if he'd never given that gutter rat a chance after missing his audition time? How much of what they achieved would they have really missed out on? How many rerecording sessions and stupid arguments and publicized blow outs could have been avoided? What would they really have been missing?

He certainly wouldn't mourn the loss of a constant source of annoyance. Of an immature tag-along with a hair trigger temper. Of a loud and boisterous whirlwind of silliness and color and sincerity.

Loss of his shadow. Loss of his muse. Loss of his best friend. Loss of his future. Loss of…

Loss of…

He couldn't breathe.

"Just leaves me alone. Please." He gritted out, proud of the steadiness of his voice as his stomach began to roil and his eyes prickled with tears.

Nathan hesitated. "Should I...close this?"

Skwisgaar nodded and after another moment the steel frame clanged shut. His vision blurred as tears welled and spilled over, his breath returning in short gasping puffs which rolled over into sobs that rattled his frame.

They'd had one day. Not even a day. An evening. Hours.

He wept until he was sick, vomiting clear liquor and not much else onto the floor next to the remnants of his guitar. He wept until his tears were spent and his head throbbed in tandem with his heart, even though he didn't understand how the muscle still carried a beat when the rhythm had been taken away.

Eventually he had nothing left. His face felt swollen, his eyes were gritty. Skwisgaar rolled to his hands and knees, avoiding the puddle of sick as he rocked up onto wobbly legs. He looked at the door, wondering if the others were still awake. If they were sitting in the lounge, drowning their sorrows. He felt like he wore a lead weight around his neck, bowing under the pull of it. It might be better just to sleep.

He turned to the naked mattress, but a scrap of blue on the floor near the foot of the bed caught his attention. A faded cotton t-shirt lay where it had been discarded. Skwisgaar stared at it for several long moments. He stepped closer to the bed, to the shirt.

And kicked it underneath the frame and out of sight before turning for the door.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of purpose. Loss of self. Loss of connection. Loss of…

It was all meaningless, really. So why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

[echo-of-sounds]

it’s my choice

-Present Mix x reader-

your dream upsets you more than you want to admit and he can clearly tell something’s wrong

He felt up her sides, absolutely flawless skin, caressing her perfect curves. Her breasts conformed to his pinching and massaging fingers. Praise after praise dripped from his mouth. His eyes consumed her. Moans deepened to groans as she lifted, slowing lowering onto him.

Heart splintering, your body jerked awake. The dream haunted you for yet another night. But it harassed your mind throughout the day, leaving you touchy and twitchy. The plague sapped any confidence.

Carefully pushing the blankets aside, you stood. Hizashi groaned from his side of the bed, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Go back to sleep, honey.”

You hurried through your morning routine and left early before he even got up for a shower.

---- Scrolling through the news showed pictures upon pictures of Heroes. They were all strong in a way you could never be. Pride held their shoulders high. Bravery cloaked their smiles. Confidence built their bodies, burst from their mouths, and dominated their competition. Those were all things you could only reach in your imagination.

You clicked out of the page and rubbed your eyes. It was beyond ridiculous. The dream was exactly that- a dream. It shouldn’t be chasing and hounding you like this. But the same question kept coming back: why was Hizashi with you?

A receptionist. You worked as a fucking hospital receptionist. No big fights. No drama or interviews or posters. The last time you really looked in a mirror, all you saw were pores, the wrong hair, and the exact opposite of the ideal body. You were just the wrong person for him.

It made you feel like a hormonal teenager, hopelessly, helplessly, stranded apart from what the focus of your affection wanted. Self-doubts should have departed once you graduated high-school. But they clung, exhausting, sucking, spoiling the euphoria of your relationship. You only wanted to be happy. And they wouldn’t let you.

A coworker called your name, snapping you from the lamenting and back into work.

---- The bedroom door opened. Footsteps approached. Arms circled your waist, accompanied by coconut shampoo. Hizashi chimed, “That smells great.”

“It’s just soup.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s still great. When’s it gonna be ready?”

“Ten minutes.” You set the spoon down. Kisses lined your neck. You shirked from the embrace, pushing his chest a little too roughly for your liking. But you still told him, “Not now, Hizashi.”

“Okay.” He gave you space by stepping back. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve said that for the last three days. Call it a hunch or something but I’m starting to think it isn’t true.”

“I’m fine.” You eased your voice, hoping it didn’t sound like the anger was directed towards him.

No response came, so you focused on cutting the carrots. A few chops later, a quiet mutter barely reached your ears, “Am I not good enough for you anymore?”

“What?” You dropped the knife and spun. The shine of his eyes dulled. No wit nor cheer remained. It hurt to see: mental uncertainness fumed to physical aches. It wavered your throat as you asked, “Why would you ever think that?”

His arms lamely flopped. “I don’t know what to think. You barely touched me over the weekend. No kisses, no hugs or hand holds. You shrug me off. You aren’t talking to me. If it’s not that, what is it then?”

He would never be anything less than perfect. Music, laughter, joy, and passion were all magnificent. It brought life into your life. He was worth every day, every hug, every celebration, everything. You couldn’t dream of vocalizing his importance in any clear way.

It was you who would never match. It just wasn’t possible. And that wasn’t the insecurities talking or the false truths anxiety told you to believe. It was a fact. Your body, abilities, and strength just could not hold up to his or anyone else’s. The number of worthier people in the world was immeasurable. You just weren’t good enough.

The doubts weighed your shoulders. Hands gently held them. “Baby, please talk to me. I hate seeing you like this.”

You shook your head.

“I miss you.”

You crossed your arms, shrugging, “It’s nothing. It’s dumb. I’m sorry, I’ll just forget about it.”

“Don’t. It’s not dumb if it’s making you feel this bad.” His hands smoothed along your upper arms. Lips brushed your forehead, repeating, whispering, “Talk to me-”

“It’s really dumb.”

“-I’m right here for you.” He kissed your temple before drawing you to him, safely securing your body against his. His chest, thin but strong, vibrated with deep breaths, enhanced by his quirk.

They were breaths that didn’t care about your moods drops; A chest that rebounded from your uncomfortable shoving; Arms that ensured you were stable and desired; Kisses that cherished your skin, your imperfections, your stiff and withdrawn lips.

You didn’t deserve him. Yet your name was so sweet whenever it sprung from his mouth- more so when he lulled it in your ear. “What’s going through your head? Talk to me, baby.”

The melodic pet name caved your hold. You mumbled into his shirt, “I had a dream…”

“About?” he hummed, stroking your back.

“You cheating on me.”

“I would never do that.”

“I know. I trust you… but I keep thinking about how… plain I am. I want to think it's just doubts and insecurities talking but I can’t get them to go away, Hizashi. I love you but I also feel like you deserve someone… better than me.”

He pulled back, cupping your face. Water wet his eyes as he sighed, “I love you so much. You know that right?”

You nodded.

“There are thousands of people in this world and I’m not with them because I don’t want to be. I want to be with you.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re my baby and everything I want.” He kissed your nose. "You're perfect for me.” He kissed your lips. “And you’re far from plain. Just last month you tried to convince me to go skydiving.”

You dryly laughed, “No one wants to go with me.”

“Before that, you dragged me to the zoo so you could spend two hours gawking at the tigers.”

“They’re pretty.”

“So aren’t you,” he assured, kissing you again. “You’re stunning. I mean it when I say I want to be with you. You don’t get to decide you’re not enough for me. It’s my choice and I love you. Besides, you’re one of the few who’s willing to deal with me all the time.”

You wiped your eyes with a smile. “I am.”

"You are," he laughed. “Please don’t hide from me. I’m here to fight that small, little voice in the back of your head.”

The squeeze that’s throttled your heart finally loosened. Confidence seeped back into the empty spaces. It was warm and sweet and perfect. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for loving you.” He lightly tugged the bottom of your shirt, grinning wide. “Can I show you just how much I love you?”

“The soup’s almost done,” you denied his offer. His bottom lip stuck out so you promised, “After you can.”

“Good.” He smooched your cheek loudly.

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Long Nights - part 7

Neil x Reader

Chapter 7: Wicked game

(see chapter 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: it’s time to come back to life, and sometimes it involves Neil dragging you to a social event

warnings: 18+, language, alcohol mention (beer is considered alcohol, right?)

author’s note: 3k words. It’s not exactly what I had in mind for that chapter, but they have a mind of their own, as always. 

Almost there.

The song for this part is Stone Sour - Wicked Game (acoustic, live)

Enjoy and let me know what you think, please? All feedback is greatly appreciated.

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas​ @neutron-stars-collision​ @ergunbilge​ @invertedneil​ @wanderedaway​ @i-wanna-b-yours​ @wonderwoman292​ @buckysgoldenheart​ @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver​ (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

It didn’t matter how many times you saw him do that, the effect the sight had on you was pretty much always the same. Filling your mind with thoughts that were quite counterproductive, one could say.

The veiny patterns covering hands and forearms. The long fingers running through the buttons. The tilted chin, extending the neck, drawing attention to that impossible jawline. The slight pout. The brows drawn together in concentration--

You smacked your tongue and shook your head

“Y’know what, those shirts of yours are so rude, but the way you wear them, the rolled-up sleeves?”

Neil looked at you through the reflection in the mirror, puzzled. “What about them?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely disrespectful,” you sighed heavily and leaned against the door frame.

Playful lights danced in the blue eyes. “Oh yeah?” he teased, giving himself a final glance-over before turning to you. “And what you’re gonna do about it?”

“Nothing,” - you shrugged, crossing your arms - “because you insist on dragging me to a social event.”

The faint resentment ringing in your last words didn’t get lost on Neil.

“So boring of me,” he said as he closed the gap between you, trying to keep a straight face. He put his hands on your waist and smirked. “But maybe after that we can come back here and continue the conversation.”

As you fixed his collar, a shade of smile hid in the corner of your mouth.

“Really wanna listen to me listing all the things that drive me mad about you, huh?” you asked smugly, gliding your fingertips along the delicate stripes of the greyish beige shirt.

Neil’s thumbs brushed over your hip bones as he hummed, “I have a feeling it might lead to a rather pleasant conclusion.”

When you let out an amused scoff, his lips captured the snarky comment that was bound to follow. He pulled you closer and lifted you up, and the next second you were sitting on the edge of a vanity cabinet, breathless from the kiss, tugging at the striped shirt.

A buzz right next to you.

You jumped, startled, and glared at the phone. “Is it too late to tell Matthias the Uber driver that we’re not going anywhere?” you asked without too much hope as you nuzzled your face to Neil’s neck, breathing in his scent, unwilling to let this moment end too quickly.

Neil chuckled and stroked your arms. “Come on, it’s gonna be fun.”

You still didn’t know where he was taking you - he’d assured you that it would be casual, and that was basically all you cared about. He knew you enough, and you trusted his judgement, after all.

“It better be,” you pouted, pulling back, but as soon as you met the bright blue eyes your heart sang in your chest. After spending all that time in the darkness, not sure if you’d ever see his face again, you caught yourself taking an extra second every now and then, just looking at him. How the light played on his features, now soft in the elaborately illuminated hotel bathroom. How his lips curled whenever he found your gaze. How utterly stunning he was.

Smiling gently, you ran your fingers through Neil’s disheveled mane, taming the blonde mess if ever so slightly.

“Let’s not keep Matthias waiting, then,” you sighed and slid off the cabinet.

-------

The afternoon was quite warm for late autumn. As you were arriving at your destination, you watched the sun shining through the scarce leaves left on the trees, adding vibrance to their colours. Too mesmerized to pay attention to the route, you recognized the place only when the car stopped. The training site. You turned to Neil in confusion, but he just wiggled his brows and proceeded to thank the driver and got out of the car. You followed him out and right through the gate of the now-empty paintball outdoor facility which served as a front for the agency’s base, hidden a bit further inside the forest.

“Picking up something on the way?” you asked, matching his pace as you strolled towards the training grounds.

Neil shook his head and smiled mysteriously. “Not really.”

“Alrighty then, keep your secrets,” you snorted, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t we a tad overdressed for a little playground fun, though?”

“A rematch?” he pondered and smirked. “Didn’t plan on that, but it’s tempting.”

Indeed. “I’m kinda out of shape, but keep those baggy trousers on and I’m game - wanna beat you fair and square again.”

Neil let out an exasperated huff. “Baggy?! They might be a bit loose but --”

You giggled at his offended expression as he got busy looking down at the target of your remark, ready to defend his fashion choice. Your laughter was enough to stop Neil in his tracks, and when he met your playful gaze, he reached out and drew you into his arms for a tight hug. After a brief moment of perplexity, you eased into his embrace, moved by the force of sudden affection.

When he pulled back, you touched his cheek. “What was that for?” you asked, searching the blue eyes, but finding nothing but joy there.

“Being cheeky.” He scrunched his nose while tapping the tip of yours. “And brilliant,” he added, and for a second you were sure there was something else he wanted to say; instead, he laid a gentle kiss on your lips. “And maybe stalling a minute longer before I’d have to share you with all these people.”

You gaped at him, about to ask what people, but Neil already grabbed your hand and led you around the corner of the building - and you heard them even before you spotted them.

“Oi, there they are!”

“Finally!”

“We’ve just considered sending a rescue party in case you got lost in the woods!”

The unexpected eruption of cheers and greetings made your fight-or-flight reflexes kick in, but as you instinctively took a step back, Neil squeezed your fingers reassuringly.  

A split-second exchange of looks.

All right?

When he saw your tiny nod, he let go of your hand, focusing on the team gathered at the makeshift chillout zone. “Not everyone has your poor sense of directions, Seb,” retorted Neil, flashing his teeth in a grin.

The young man’s protests got drowned in laughter as you approached the group together.

"Luckily not the case with our rogue here,” said Ives, elbowing his way in between other people. He shot you both a disapproving look, toned down by a smile dangling in the corner of his mouth. "Really, roofs? Didn't know you had it in you, mate."

"Me neither,” admitted Neil, going in for a clasp of hands and a brief hug. “When I saw that gap, I was sure that was it. Someone convinced me otherwise."

“The secret is to avoid looking down,” you shrugged, meeting the commander's amused gaze.

"Thanks for bringing our favourite nerd back in one piece." As Ives extended his hand, there was something serious about his expression, mixed with a sense of relief, and you realised he must have been in the response team Neil had called for help.

“My pleasure.” Beaming, you shook his hand. “Thanks for providing backup.” And scraping me off the pavement.

Neil’s gasp was almost theatrical. He smirked and nudged Ives lightly. “Aw, I’m your favourite?”

“Careful, that privilege may be revoked any minute,” grunted Ives in a weak attempt at keeping up appearances, but he couldn’t fool anyone. Now that you had a chance to observe them in the after-hours situation, the bond between the two men was clear as day, and your heart warmed up at the thought.

Waving back at Mahir, you scanned the group for other familiar faces. Wheeler, a couple of people you recognized from the HQ halls, and a bit isolated from the others - the big man himself, manning the barbecue station.

Overwhelmed by the attention you got from the team, you excused yourself and walked up to The Protagonist. You couldn’t help but smile at the confident vibe he radiated with as if he spent every weekend doing nothing but this.

“So dad of you, boss.”

He flopped a sizzling piece of meat to the other side, glancing at you humorlessly.

“How are you feeling?” he asked with polite concern.

“Grand, healed up nicely, thank you.” You circled your shoulder and grinned. “Not in a marathon condition, mind you, but that’s not exactly new.”

“That’s good, Neil was worried about you.”

Not sure if it was the lack of eye contact or something else in his presence, but you decided to stop ignoring the gut feeling.

“You don’t like me,” you said, tilting your head. A mere statement of the fact; you weren’t hurt, only curious. “It’s okay, you don’t have to, just been wondering why.”

TP sighed heavily. And when he finally met your gaze, the dark eyes were sad, only deepening your confusion.

“I’m sorry.” Then something cracked and a shiver ran down your spine, because suddenly, in front of you there was a man who’d seen a lot, suffered too much, and cared even more. The weight of it all slumped his shoulders, and for a short while, he seemed almost helpless. Taking a quick look at the hollering group, he sighed again. “It’s not your fault, it’s--“ he hesitated, searching for the right words. As he found them, there was no sign of the vulnerability from a moment earlier. “It’s a stressful business.” He sent you a crooked smile. “And I’m still mad about that watch.”

The lie was obvious. But the things you saw in his eyes made your chest clench painfully, and…did you really want to know?

Besides, that might have been a truce offering, and you weren’t bent on holding a grudge. Not with him, anyway.

“Hey, wasn’t it technically your idea?” you grinned, shrugging off the weird sense of dread.

A smile finally reached the dark irises. “I guess it was,” he admitted and patted you on the arm. “There’s some beer in the mini-fridge, could you --”

“On it.”

When the clank of bottles sealed your peace treaty, you caught Neil’s happy stare. You pointed at the beer in your hand in a question and he nodded, so you grabbed one more and joined him and the others.

That unfortunate mission must have been some sort of rite of passage in these guys’ eyes because out of the blue, you were no longer an outsider. The Cavalry accepted you with open arms as one of their own, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. It was a nice feeling, though. Like you belonged. You saw some curious glances, but they came from a good place, and even the suspicious voice in your mind gave in under the cordial, jovial energy of the group.

Soon enough, you were joking with a young medic, having a balancing stand-off with Wheeler, or listening to crazy stories from some old operations, until everyone had enough booze in their systems that allowed them to direct some of the questions to you, as well.

“So is Neil a decent locksmith now?”

You puffed out your cheeks in a musing grimace, but when you spotted Neil’s raised brow, you started laughing. “I’d say even more than decent. Honestly? I don’t think there’s much more that I can teach him, he needs to polish his skills in real life now.” Mocking a teary sniff, you added, “They grow up so fast!”

Nobody would know that you did so while actively ignoring a faint sting in your heart.

You refrained from meeting the attentive blue eyes, though. Just in case.

“Oh cool, then what about a little contest?” Seb clapped his hands cheerfully. “You versus Neil, we could time you, and to make it fairer we could put a blindfold on you --” as he stopped for a breath, he realized - with some help from Wheeler’s elbow to his side - the slight faux pas.

But you barely acknowledge a curse and a mumbled apology cutting through the awkward silence, too busy exchanging amused looks and stifled giggles with your student.

“Neil, would you like to explain?” you asked, schooling your features.

He bowed his head as if he was accepting a great honor. “Gladly.” Neil took a deep breath and his eyes lit up. “See, my dear friend, had you known anything about lockpicking, you’d learnt that sometimes it’s easier to do that with, for example, your eyes closed. You need to listen to what the lock has to say because it’s all about feedback--”

You watched as Neil gave a full lecture, citing your own words from what seemed to be a lifetime ago. He did it with passion and understanding of the craft you’d never dreamed to see in someone else, and yet was so familiar when it came to him. Absentmindedly, you placed a hand over your chest, as if it was enough to stop it from bursting.

You couldn’t be more proud.

Neil finished his rant and looked at you, only to be met with all the appreciation and validation in your gaze, and he beamed even wider.

“All right, damn, we can cover Neil’s eyes then,” sighed Seb, a total resignation in his voice sparking a roar of laughter from the group.

----

As much as you enjoyed the energy of the team, your social batteries were getting drained, and you needed a moment for yourself before you could carry on.

Walking right outside of the periphery of light from the garlands, you let your gaze slide across the training equipment, now barely visible in the moonless night. The leaves crumbled under your feet as you smiled at the memories. Maybe one day you would actually complete the full run? You pulled on the sleeves of your sweater, hiding your hands from the cold evening air.

“Mind if I join you?”

You glanced over your shoulder at Neil, keeping his distance, ready to give you space. With him, it was always in the details he’d picked along the way, effortlessly weaving them into everyday life. “Not at all.”

Neil perked up and joined you in the shadows, inhaling deeply.

“Funny how the scent of the forest changes with the seasons,” he mused and you grinned, turning his way.

“That’s what I call a pick-up line,” you snickered and drew a long breath. “But you’re right, it’s too easy to forget that once you become a permanent city creature.”

He chuckled and lightly rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked softly, fixing your oversized scarf.

“Yeah.” You brushed your cheek against his fingers, longing for his touch, now that you were somewhat hidden from the prying gazes. “You?”

Neil moved closer and wound one arm around your waist, then cupped your face gently, pressed his forehead to yours, and murmured, “Now I am.”

You hummed happily and slid your hands under his open jacket, resting them at his chest, and closed your eyes. Only then realizing how tense you were, you relaxed in his embrace, savoring his closeness. A steady heartbeat under your palms. The warmth carrying undertones of Neil’s cologne. A featherlike graze of his thumb over your cheek. His nose nudging yours.

But soon enough, you had to break a stolen moment. Trying to stifle a yawn, you hid your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“Oh, my poor baby,” he cooed, biting back a giggle. “That tired?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled against him on the verge of another yawn.

“Sure you are.” He kissed your temple. “The party’s almost over anyway, judging by decreasing amount of idiotic ideas per hour. Gonna call us a cab soon, all right?”

As you nodded, Neil tightened a hug and reluctantly let you go.

“Be right back, I’ll check if there’s any coffee left,” you said, gesturing towards the tables with beverages.

As your luck would have it, there was just enough for one sip.

A sudden sneer was enough to wake you up, though.

“Hell froze over.”

Mahir walked up to the mini-fridge to grab a beer and you met his mocking stare with furrowed brows.

“Vincent must be chattering his teeth now,” you joked, unsure where the conversation was heading. “Why?”

Mahir scoffed at the remark about your old associate, but he was still studying you closely, confusing you further. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Dude, you’re killing me today,” you sighed, wiping a hand through your face. “Thanks, but what for?”

“You and Neil?”

And when you shot him a puzzled look, he waved his bottle at the place where you stood together a moment before.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, you deadpanned, “Oh.”

Bloody hell.

“I thought you weren’t doing the whole love thing anymore.”

The pulse pounded in your ears, although not loud enough to tune out the sirens blazing in your head.

No.

It came out harder than you felt it. “I’m not.”

No, no, no, no, no.  

Mahir grimaced doubtfully. “Uh-huh.” He looked over your shoulder at the team gathered together in the distance and raised a brow. “Does he know that?”

You couldn’t force yourself to follow his gaze. The panic drained your face of all colour, and that was enough of an answer for your friend.

“I see.” Mahir shook his head, losing the enquiring manner. His features softened as he patted your arm. “Neil’s a good guy.”

Please, no.

“They always are,” you choked out bitterly.

Not again.

“You know what I mean,” insisted Mahir, searching for your eyes.

That the history was not gonna repeat itself?

...or that he didn’t deserve any of it?

“Yeah. Maybe.” You faked a smile. “Excuse me.”

Pushing past him, you went inside the building. You needed to be alone.

Oh, the irony.

Weeks of deliberately avoiding the topic. Tricking yourself into thinking that you can keep it casual. That it didn’t matter that much. That it was nothing but a self-indulgent fling.

You couldn’t breathe.

Lesson learnt, huh?

Barging into one of the restrooms, you got to a sink. Clenching your hands on the cold ceramic, you fought nausea tearing through your body.

Pathetic.

The gasp for air turned into a sob.

...and then everything went quiet.

You raised your eyes to the mirror.

Your reflection was staring back at you with determination.

It was time.

(next chapter ->)

[kiara-carrera]

permanent ink

note: this is set the day after this drabble i did, but also set in that quick little sad montage in s2e1 when jj gives himself a stick and poke. this is probably gonna be reworked once i actually get to season 2 just for any context issues i run into later on, but the bulk of this is canon for them, my tiny lil babies. none of this is really season 2 spoilers tbfh, but also just know this is set in s2e1. also v unedited.

pairing: leah thompson x jj maybank

cruel summer, season two

When Leah woke up, it was to the sounds of chickens clucking somewhere in the distance and to the dull throbbing of her side against an uncomfortable surface. Even before she could adjust to being awake, even before her eyes could flutter open to assess her surroundings, there was no doubt in her mind that she was at the Chateau, on John’s uncomfortable ass pullout couch.

And then there was that pang in her chest at the thought of even just his name. None of this was right. None of it made sense. It seemed as if everyone around her had just accepted the fact that the Phantom had gone down and wrecked, that John B and Sarah had been lost to the sea. That they weren’t just gone for a bit of time, but forever. 

And yet something in her just wouldn’t let the information click, wouldn’t let the all too apparent truth win the battle with the denial warring through her mind. Grief was something that Leah was slowly realizing she wasn’t capable of stomaching, her brain reverting back to the denial stage like a broken record.

It didn’t make sense. The truth was too much to handle, too much to rationalize. To Leah, it didn’t make sense that the same fate that had befell the father had occurred again for the son, like some sick and twisted tragedy. These were the things that existed only the the thoughts that she shoved down and down, deep where she hoped they would never resurface.

They always did.

She let a groan escape her, an annoyed and frustrated little noise, as she rolled onto her back, eyes still squeezed shut as she considered praying to a god she didn’t believe in to let sleep take her. If not for refuge from all thoughts of John Booker Routledge for another moment, but to get away from the sounds of those fucking chickens.

“Sleeping Beauty finally awakes,” someone said from beside her, a snarky yet somewhat joking tone laced into the words.

Her eyes snapped open as she flailed a bit against the couch, heart jolting in her chest. She managed to sit up a bit before her eyes landed on the source of the voice. A somewhat amused JJ was sitting across the room, legs crossed and his foot in his lap, a pencil dangling precariously from his fingers. 

Memories of the night before slowly came crawling through her mind, sitting on the dock, silent tears streaming down her face under JJ’s arm. They’d sat there until at least two am, mostly in silence while passing a beer between them. She wasn’t sure what had happened after they came back in the house, laying back on John B’s couch the last thing she could remember before she must have fell asleep.

“Jesus Christ, JJ,” Leah breathed out, hand running over her face, her heart galloping in her chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

JJ snorted. “Geez, good morning to you too, sunshine.”

“Fuck off,” she groaned, letting herself flop back onto the couch. She could hear him laughing as she pulled the pillow out from under her head to shove it over her face — it was way too fucking early to be dealing with this.

Look, she wasn’t saying that being around her best friend was awkward, because it wasn’t. At least, she was doing her best to make sure it wasn’t. But there was always that little nudge at the back of her mind, always trying to get her to work through whatever the fuck she was feeling, because it sure as hell wasn’t normal friendship shit.

She spent an inordinate amount of time trying to convince herself that nothing had changed, another round of denial in her life, but really, what was she going to do? Have feelings for JJ? Her best friend? And do what with that, exactly? Dig herself into a friendship ruining hole? Tell him? Hope he’d, in some fucking weird twist of fate, feel the same? The same JJ who’d never had an actual relationship and flirted with basically anyone, including her, even though with her it was always jokey?

Yeah, fuck that.

But that didn’t make this any less awkward in her mind. Last night had been a bit easier, despite the influx of grieving, but she’d been able to ignore that and just be with JJ without wanting to completely bury herself in a hole and never come out.

And there was also the fact that she told him she’d go to Yucátan with him, that she’d pretty much go anywhere with him, regardless of anything. Yeah, that wasn’t something they were skirting around lately. Well, she figured they’d be if she had completely just left that conversation in the back of her mind. 

And it was clear he’d more than likely taken it as a friendly yeah, I’m totally down for just fucking leaving my entire life to go somewhere with you thing considering he hadn’t brought it up once. Which was kind of shocking because while some people tended to write him off as an idiot, he was oddly perceptive when he needed to be. And yet somehow he hadn’t noticed her speech leaned more on the side of weird, cringey, cliche teen rom-com movie bullshit rather than friendship.

God, she hated her brain.

Leah let out another groan, deciding to take initiative to not be a complete fucking weirdo around JJ because fuck, they all needed to stick together now more than ever, and so she promptly chucked the pillow off of her.

Normal, she could do that. And then she truly focused on him as she turned onto her side again, picking up on how he’d fallen silent. The pencil was now held tightly between his fingers, a crease between his eyebrows that was born of pure concentration as he poked at the skin of his lower calf with the needle he’d fastened to the writing utensil.

Oh, great, he’d set up an impromptu tattoo parlor while she was sleeping, that wasn’t concerning at all. And — was he wearing fucking overalls?

Christ, of course he looked good in overalls. Just fucking spectacular. 

“Stare any harder and I’m gonna start charging you by the minute, Lee Lee.”

Leah’s eyes snapped up to meet his once again amused expression, not having noticed how her gaze had seemingly just zoned out at the sight of him. She could feel heat coursing up the back of her neck at the embarrassment at being caught, not even caring at the use of that god awful nickname 

“Nice overalls,” she told him, sarcasm all over her tone. Inside, she was cringing. Nice job, Leah, draw attention to another thing you don’t want to think about, fucking brilliant job, she thought to herself, but her mouth was already going again before she could just, y’know, shut the fuck up. “Is there a barn raising I don’t know about?”

JJ narrowed his eyes at her, playfully brandishing his pencil at her. “For all you know these overalls could have gotten me the best handy of my life once.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, rolling her eyes at his cocky grin. “Please, no one gets laid wearing overalls. And what the fuck are you even doing right now?”

“Stick and poke,” JJ said matter-of-factly, raising his eyebrows before promptly sticking himself again as if to prove his point. He barely so much as hissed at the stab of needle, tugging his teeth between his lips for a moment as he focused back in on his work. “Kie showed me how to do it.”

“Please tell me you at least sterilized the needle.”

Not even looking up from his leg, he gestured the pencil in the direction of the table beside him. “What do you think the lighter is for?”

Sure enough, his light was discarded beside him. That didn’t do much to make her feel better, though, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “Considering it’s you? Anything from smoking a J to arson, probably.”

“Haha, real funny, Lee,” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he continued to stab at his skin. JJ was silent for a moment before asking, “Want one when I’m done?”

If you had told her she’d be waking up to her best friend wearing overalls and offering to give her a tattoo in John B’s living room, she probably would have just stayed asleep. She wasn’t really sure how to tell him she didn’t exactly trust him to stab her multiple times with a questionable looking needle ... and dear God, she didn’t even want to consider what he was possibly using as ink. So she opted to go for the slightly less scathing remark.

Leah sat up a bit, supporting herself on her elbows. “Do you have another needle?”

“Uh...” JJ paused, glancing around the table. “That’s a negative.”

“Then at the risk of getting an infection, I’m gonna pass.”

“I could just do the lighter thing again,” he offered.

Leah sighed, running a hand through her hair as she sat up fully, legs swinging to hang off the edge of the couch. “J, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t even know if I trust that you sterilized it right the first time.”

“Ye of little faith,” JJ cried out in offense, once again brandishing his pencil at her. He jokingly narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re wounding me here, Lee. Total lack of respect.”

“I’m sure your big ass ego will get over it,” Leah retorted, shaking her head at him with a laugh.

They lapsed into silence again, JJ continuing to prick his calf with a steady hand and an oddly intense air of concentration. Leah reverted back to just watching him quietly, resting her elbows on her knees and dropping her head into her waiting hands. This was probably the most still she’d ever seen him as long as she’d known him, bar when he was passed out asleep.

Compared to last night, the JJ she was seeing now was doing a pretty bang up job at holding it together. Or, at least, pretending that he was. They hadn’t said a whole ton last night, but Leah knew as well as she knew the sky was blue that JJ wasn’t doing okay. 

The open (and most likely empty) can of beer on the table beside him only solidified that thought.

She wanted to comment that giving yourself a tattoo after drinking was very much not recommended, a know-it-all tone ready to join the factoid on her tongue, but she wasn’t sure how many buttons she’d be able to push before it’d turn into an actual argument.

And fuck, if there was one person she didn’t want to be on the outs with any time soon, it was him.

So instead, she kept her mouth shut, letting her eyes trail across his furrowed brow and the tongue poking out from between his lips in thought. From where she sat, she couldn’t see what he was etching into his skin and while she wasn’t really supporting the impromptu DIY tat, the suspense was starting gnaw at her insides.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she was up and crossing the room. JJ didn’t even bother looking up as she approached him, his attention only being hooked when Leah pushed a few of the things on the table aside before boosting herself up to sit on it.

He looked between her and the table a few times, before a laugh escaped him. “Sure, just make yourself at home, why don’t ya? You’re lucky I’m done,” he told her, setting his pencil on a bit of the table not occupied by her.

She shrugged, taking the opportunity to look down at his skin. Turning her head to the side so that she was actually viewing the tattoo the right way, she couldn’t help but feel a tug in her chest once it clicked for her.

P4L was scribbled into the skin in JJ’s all too familiar handwriting, thin and somewhat crooked lines formed into a tiny brand of Pogue status. More than that, it was a sign of friendship, of family. In a world of haves and have nots, they had each other. 

A soft smile pulled at her lips, corners turning upward as she looked at it with an equally soft gaze. “It looks good.”

JJ flashed a weak smile. He cleared his throat and the words he spoke were joking, a clear shift for the conversation to go somewhere less somber, less intense. “You jealous you’re not a true Pogue, Lee?”

Leah’s brow knitted together in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“No tattoo, fake Pogue.”

“I don’t remember that in the Pogue friendship rulebook.”

“Just added it,” JJ shot back, a smug little look in his eyes.

She couldn’t help but snort. “Great, I’ll be sure to tell Pope about the new mandate so he can promptly shit his pants at the thought of getting a tattoo with a needle duct taped to a pencil.”

“Nah, Pope’s got guts,” JJ countered but all it took was one raised eyebrow from Leah for his statement to fold like a cheap suit. “Okay, yeah, he’d freak.”

“Ya think?” Leah asked with a laugh, her eyes bright with amusement. She took another glance at his new tattoo. “It really does look good, though. If I actually trusted you to permanently alter my body with a needle, I might’ve reconsidered.”

She expected JJ to scoff and go on another rant of how she was insulting his honor or something, but all she was met with was JJ staring intently at her, lost in thought as he mulled something over. That creeping feeling filled her chest as he looked her over and she had about nine thousand guesses for what could possibly be going through his head as she grew a bit nervous under his gaze.

None of those things were JJ going, “Got an idea,” while reaching around her for something on the table.

She watched on in quiet confusion as he retrieved a Sharpie from behind her, waving it around a bit like he’d just won a prize. There was a devilish grin on his lips as his eyes trailed over her before zeroing in on her arm. JJ didn’t bother with niceties as he pulled her arm from her lap, tugging it towards him and flipping it palm side up.

“What are you ... ?” Leah asked, trailing off as she let him all but manhandle her arm.

“Shh, genius at work,” he told her, pointing yet another writing utensil at her in a mock threat. He took her wrist in his hand, using the other one to push up the array of beaded and string bracelets crowding her arm. 

Pulling the Sharpie’s cap off with his teeth and spitting it out to the side, JJ’s brow furrowed in concentration as he put the marker to her skin, leaving black ink in his wake. Leah already knew what he’d be writing, but still she found herself watching intently as his chicken scratch scribbled across her skin, as if he’d suddenly depart from being sentimental and draw a dick on her arm or something.

He pulled back after a moment, gently rubbing his thumb just under his masterpiece, and he grinned at her, the first real smile she’d seen from him in days. It reached his eyes, the blue of them clear and bright and just ... happy. He looked happy, even if this exchange would only last for another few moments, and it made Leah’s heart do a funny little flip in her chest.

At the risk of making eye contact with her best friend for longer than necessary, the kind of extended look that would risk awkwardness and things Leah was far too sober to think about, she averted her gaze.

Written in what honestly looked like some of JJ’s best handwriting, P4L inked her skin, a small and semi permanent declaration of her Pogue status. A tiny laugh escaped her, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she looked it over.

“There, now we match,” JJ told her. 

She looked back up, eyes locking with his. Dimples showing, JJ was still giving her that smile, that goddamn smile that only ever worked to make hers grow wider. The same smile that had, as of late, made her feel slightly dizzy, like her once perfectly structured world had gone just a hair off-kilter and metamorphosed into something else. And it wasn’t helped by the fact that, though there was no reason for it, he was still holding onto her wrist, callused fingers hot against her skin.

Her heart did that funny little flip again, just once more with feeling. Leah out a breath, nodding just a bit. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Teenage Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: this is LONG so please dont let this flop

prompt: y/n is 12-16, takes place from Avengers 1 to Avengers 2

The Early Years (1) The Intense Years (3) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

starting out with tony powering stark tower with clean energy:

it was very late, you were supposed to be asleep

“what are you doing up, missy? it’s way past your bedtime”

“it’s my fault, i let her stay up to see her dad’s big achievement” -pepper

just vibing on the couch with absolutely no intention of sleeping anytime soon

you really did take after your dad

“how was the show, sweetheart?”

“uh, cool?”

coulson showing up when he did

you were excited bc you knew he had to be there for superhero stuff

“hi, agent coulson!!”

“hey there, kiddo!

BEGGING to come with your dad

“no. absolutely not. there is absolutely no way im letting you get involved in any of this”

you got involved

but like, not the whole “im a 12 year old superhero” involved

“y/n, sweetie, this is dr. banner, you’re gonna be his assistant in the lab!”

“—what?” *bruce utterly shocked*

talking that man’s ear off oh my GOD

he taught you a few things along the way, though

it ended up being very educational

“yeah i built my own suit! it’s definitely not as cool as my dad’s...and he put a bunch of safety controls on it. obviously, i could bypass them and do whatever i wanted, but it’s best not to break his trust, you know?”

“you are astonishingly wise for a 12 year old”

bruce being kind of scared around you because he thinks he could hurt you

also scared you might hurt yourself on the scepter

CASUALLY talking to the rest of the avengers

“so, you’re stark’s daughter? now i’ve met three generations of starks.” -steve

“oh, wonderful, there’s a smaller one!” -thor

“hey, y/n, it’s good to see you again. still practicing those moves i showed you?” -natasha

listennnn as you got older you started to exert more of your father’s personality traits

you developed his sarcastic and occasionally ill-timed humor...and

YOU WERE COCKY AS FUCK

“i mean, i’m not saying that i’m better than you but i know you’re thinking it”

when the helicarrier was attacked nobody really knew the correct way to protect you

“dad? dad??”

“right here, y/n, come with me”

tony brought your suit for emergency purposes

“you put this on and you stay here, understand?”

oh, another thing you got from him? NOT LISTENING

helping where you could, the first step to becoming a superhero, right?

being really upset when coulson died

but understanding that it was apart of the job

going back to new york for some alien ass kicking and having the whole team check on you every thirty seconds

“y/n, how’s it going?” “stark junior, are you doing okay?” “need any help out there, kid?”

“you guys don’t have to babysit me” “i’m still kickin’ it, thanks”

tony calling right before he went through the wormhole

“hey sweetheart, just gotta let you know that i love you and i am so proud of everything you’ve done”

the avengers holding you back from him when he fell back to the ground because you were unreasonably worried for obvious reasons

“is he breathing? steve? steve, let me see him! JARVIS, are you there?”

falling on the ground and hugging him (with your clunky-ass armor still on)

“hey! yeah, i missed you too”

*clink clink* pat on the back

schwarma stop

“you’re gonna eat it and you’re gonna like it”

having your own input on the stark tower remodel

taking a slight pause for random stuff

you’ve definitely drawn his mustache/goatee on your face before

“please tell me that’s not permanent marker”

“it’s permanent marker”

you and pepper doing mother/daughter things for bonding (but you and her already had a great relationship)

unreasonable amount of cussing from your father has rubbed off onto you and now he doesn’t notice when you say bad words

natasha taught you how to shoot so that was cool

“if i can shoot a repulsor, i think i can shoot a gun”

“whatever you say, baby stark”

obviously the team is just a bunch of protective uncles and an aunt

“i miss [insert avenger here]”

resume to iron man 3

just tinkering in the shop with pops

“are you sure that’s safe, dad?”

“duh, why wouldn’t it be safe?”

you were right and it was not safe

sometimes you proved your dad wrong and it made him happy?

“well would you look at that, you’re right”

learning how to help your dad with his anxiety and panic attacks

the house in malibu got blown up and your dad disappeared

you were benched by pepper effective immediately

“don’t you think it would be better if i were still out there? someone has to be out there and...i don’t know, protect the people?”

“y/n, please, you’re still a kid. i can excuse fighting aliens but i draw the line at terrorism”

“you can excuse fighting aliens??”

pepper sent you to a different house and hired a...babysitter

zip zip zip its AOU time yall remember the beginning of that at the hydra base

*explosion* “oh, shit! didn’t mean to do that...”

“watch your language, y/n!” -cap

“don’t tell my daughter what to do!”

having an external monologue that everyone just kind of rolls with

“glad i put a heater in this suit” “anyone up for burgers?” *humming Eye of the Tiger*

going back to the lab with tony and bruce and being very uncomfortable with the idea of ultron

“okay dad, you know how im usually right?”

“lighten up, kiddo. remember what i taught you about trial and error? this is a learning experience”

*bruce and you side eying*

“i’ll ground you”

“what?!”

“kidding, im kidding”

a lot of kid jokes from other partygoers

“isnt it past your bedtime”

“very funny”

actually dressing up nice for a change, as opposed to an oil-stained band tee

but then ur outfit was ruined because you had to shoot murder bots :(

“not cool! i designed this room!”

tony still got all the blame for ultron while you and bruce went 😬

tony made a joke about ultron being your brother and you didn’t talk to him for hours

“oh, come on! you have to learn to laugh at your mistakes!”

“poor choice of words, stark” -literally everyone

🎶getting to see your worst feaaar🎶

which was a mixture between tony not surviving the wormhole and being abandoned and vulnerable again

your phone got confiscated “because of ultron”

meeting wanda and pietro on better terms

“you are stark’s daughter?”

“um, yeah, that’s me. i sincerely apologize for anything he’s ever done wrong while i’ve been alive”

actually getting along with them (plus you were in a similar age range)

“uncle rhodey!!!”

“staying out of trouble, i hope?”

“define ‘trouble’”

okay okay, enough of that. besides a few robots hitting you and you hitting harder...and ultron taking a couple personal jabs at you after accessing some of your social media accounts...it went back to normal(ish)

you made a friend of wanda and visited the avengers compound weekly and helped with training

and nat gave you some spy pointers to help you if you ever found yourself without the suit

when you left the compound after thor that day, you had some nice father/daughter time

“why don’t i give you a driving lesson, yeah?”

“you’re gonna trust me to drive this thing?”

“sure, why not?”

you drove very fast, wonder where you learned that from

he was clasping onto the seats and whispering curse words

“next time, you can drive with happy”

[paperpocalypse]

don’t trust your feelings.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 46. Giving them a back massage when they flop on the couch or bed.

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 1,291 words

Warning: Swearing

“Why the hell are you here?”

“Thought I’d drop by for a visit.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

You look at the knife and then at him, and your lips twitch. Whitney Houston – hell, you used to never shut up about her – sings from the unfamiliar record player on his dresser; Diego glances at it with narrowed eyes. So that’s where the music was coming from. You must have brought it with you. Why? So that he knows that it was you who broke into his room?

I know that album, he thinks bitterly, keeping the knife firmly in line with your face. It’s your favorite.

“Aw, c’mon, Diego.” You stand up, raising one hand in surrender while the other reaches for the knife in your shoulder. It makes a dry, scraping sound as you pull it out, like a spade leaving a sandpile, and you toss it onto the desk nearby. “Don’t tell me you didn’t miss me at least a little bit. It’s been eight years.”

Yeah, eight years. Fuck you. Diego keeps his breathing steady, ignoring the twinge in his side and the thumping in his chest as he makes his way down the stairs. “And whose fault is that?” he says.

It’s a rhetorical question, of course. You both know the answer, and he expects you to defend yourself with the same kind of shit you pulled when you were part of the academy. Go ahead, he thinks. Act like nothing’s wrong. Blame your uncle’s crackpot ideas.

Leave without warning. Who gives a shit anymore?

But you do none of those things. Instead, your gaze flicks away from the quiet venom in his voice, and you stay silent for a moment. His frown deepens.

“I was scared,” you eventually reply. “Ben died and I got scared, okay? So when Uncle said it was a sign we had to leave, I convinced myself that he was right again.” Your hands clasp behind your back, a familiar gesture that makes him think of times long past, and it gets to him more than he would like to show. “I’m sorry for not saying goodbye.”

You’re sorry. Diego holds your gaze for a moment longer, jaw tight, then lowers his knife. He thinks of the day he realized you weren’t coming back. Then he thinks of Ben’s funeral, and he puts his knife away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, less biting this time.

You smile derisively, but he can see the relief in it as well. “Uncle didn’t let me. You know how he was.”

“Was?”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh.” He pauses in the middle of removing his tactical harness to glance at you. “… My condolences.”

You shrug. “It’s fine. I didn’t realize how much of a controlling bastard he was until he kicked the bucket,” you mutter, and he hears the record player stop as you lift the needle and turn it off. “And now I’m here.”

This time, Diego really pauses. The way you say it sounds like – “What, you’re moving back here or something?”

“Yep.” You lift your hands in a celebratory gesture. “Surprise.”

—

And just like that, you’re back in Diego’s life like you had never left.

It’s ridiculous, really, how quickly you slip into the cracks and crevices of his routine again. What’s worse, it feels natural. So he resists it at first – takes the back door when you have a match at the gym, throws his knives through the crack in the door whenever he comes back from patrol and hears a record playing. Talks to you with clipped tones and cold words.

But … he never tells you to leave. And you keep visiting. And by the time January rolls by, he realizes that the bitterness he’s tried to hold onto has become something else.

“Don’t you have a shift in a few hours?”

You’re nodding along to yet another Whitney vinyl when he walks in, lounging in the beat-up chair between his dresser and the desk with a newspaper in your lap. At the mention of work, you just sink deeper into the cushions and shrug.

“Yep,” you say.

The boiler room is a lot warmer than outside. He can already feel himself start to sweat. Diego removes his patrol gear and reaches back to pull one of his sweaters off, and his muscles ache in response. Goddamn it. It’s been like that the whole day, after that match with Sinclair the night before. He peels off the grimy article of clothing and rolls his shoulders.

“Didn’t anybody ever tell you that pulling all-nighters isn’t healthy?” He tosses his sweater aside and heads to his bed, falling back onto the mattress with a grunt.

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Vigilante.” The chair squeaks, and he turns his head to see you approaching the bed. “Here, turn over.”

“Why?” Nevertheless, he does as you say.

“So I can massage your back.” You usher him closer to the wall and put one knee on the edge of the bed, hoisting yourself onto the mattress. He tenses when you lean over and press your hands into his shoulder blades. “Shit, man, I’m not gonna kill you. Relax.”

“You couldn’t if you tried,” he mutters, then hisses when you knead a particularly sore muscle. That felt good.

You chuckle and move downwards. “Hey, I’d get a few hits in,” you retort as you work. “But you always were the better fighter, huh?”

“I had to be –” Your knuckles dig into his lower back – “unf. God. Not everyone’s a human punching bag like you, [Y/n].”

“The best offense is a good defense.”

“It’s ‘the best defense is a good offense.’”

“Your dad told you that, right? I remember.”

… Dad did tell him that. He’d forgotten. Diego scowls and doesn’t reply.

You put your whole weight into the base of your palms, swinging one leg over his lower back to kneel above him. “Uncle always told me the other one because of my powers. Guess we grew up with different philosophies.”

“Yeah, well, both of us got screwed over either way.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” His irritation fades a little bit when your voice softens.

You spend a few more minutes massaging his back. Diego closes his eyes and keeps his mouth shut, save for a relieved exhale here and there, listening to the ancient hum of the boiler and the upbeat tune of the next song on your record. He wonders how many times you’ve done this.

He wonders who you may have done it for.

But before he can think about it too much, the record player sputters, and whatever atmosphere that had begun blooming as soon as you had touched him disappears.

“Ah, shit,” you say wryly, moving off him. Diego groans as he props himself up onto his elbows, watching you turn the record player off. The sudden absence of music brings a frown to his lips. “I guess that’s a sign I should get going.”

“Thought you didn’t believe in signs.”

His words come out in a rasp – and in the midst of sliding the record back into its sleeve, you stop, a strange expression flitting across your face. “Shit, you’re right,” you remark after a second, perplexed. Then you chuckle. “I guess that was my uncle talking.”

Ignore the bastard, then. Diego shifts slowly, unwillingly, into a sitting position, and draws his eyes over the map of your face. You stare back. The record fits snugly underneath your arm. The boiler hums.

“What?”

He doesn’t think about it for another second.

“You can stay,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows. But then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face, and Diego commits it to memory.

“If you insist.”

[randomingoftherandomness]

idk if you are still taking wenzhou au req but if you're can you please write about when in episode 10 wkx is brothel being sad and getting, zzs barges in just when he has finished his monologue and the their night turns out completely different 👉👈

A/N: I’m gonna keep the rest of this under a cut but know that it is 🌶🍋 This is way longer than I expected it to be... I’m sorry if it reads a bit OOC?

--

His last companion of the evening slumps to the ground unconscious from the drink and yet Wen Kexing can do nothing but sigh at her and all her lovely friends.

He will contend himself with being alone in a crowd. As he always has been.

There is much on his mind and even more for him to consider moving forward, but before those dark, swirling thoughts in his mind can take form and root, the doors to the room swing open with a dangerous crash.

“Ah Xu?”

His Ah Xu steps into the dim light, eyes flashing with undisguised murder. Even with the distance between them, Wen Kexing can smell the wine on him. The way his eyes alight on each of the ladies on the ground spoke of nothing but undisguised malice. The sight of it sends shivers up his spine.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, going to a stand. 

For a beat, Ah Xu gapes and blinks at him, before closing his mouth and gesturing at the women, the drink, the food. “What’s all this then?”

Frowning, Wen Kexing steps forward, but still keeping a careful space between them. He weighs the shapes of the words he takes to utter. “We were having an argument. I thought...”

“You thought?” Ah Xu huffs. “Is a man like you capable of thinking?”

The comment cuts deep and Wen Kexing has enough liquor on his lips for it to light a fire in his veins. He turns, moving to leave when Ah Xu catches him by the arm. It takes him a beat but he manages to weave together the semblance of a smile when he says, “You should let me go, Ah Xu. I’m most afraid of clingy men, don’t you know?”

If he had hoped that would work, all it does is have Ah Xu wordlessly dragging him along out towards another room in the inn. It’s smaller, with candles unlit, floorboards coloured silver in the light of the moon, and though the moment he closes the doors behind them, he lets go of Wen Kexing, Ah Xu stays close.

“I... I can’t sleep.”

This soft admission sparks the flight of a thousand butterflies in his chest. Even as he tries to stifle the glow of happiness that radiates through the hollow nothingness in his being that has lasted from the moment they exchanged those angry words, he is helpless in the wake of his Ah Xu’s eyes on him.

Being at the centre of that man’s attention is all he had thought of, all he had wanted for the brief time they’d been together. And yet, now that he has it, all he wants to do is shy away.

What sort of secrets could this man glean from him? What sort of truths would he willingly offer up just to have the joy of being in his orbit?

Wen Kexing swallows down the breath sticking high in his throat. 

“Did you miss my playing that much?” He deflects with a gentle laugh, taking a fortifying lungful of air. “Have I spoiled you that much already?”

“Don’t play around, Wen Kexing!” Ah Xu hisses, reaching for his wrist and holding fast. “You... You infuriate me. Everything about you... All of you! You and your secrets, and all your hidden schemes! I never know what is the truth, I never know what is real or a mask with you--”

“I never lied to you, Ah Xu!”

“You say that but how can I trust you when chaos follows you like a shadow!” Ah Xu shakes his head, stepping up until they’re but separated by the shadows of their faces in the night light. “I can’t figure you out. And it scares me.”

Wen Kexing ducks his head, keeping his face from his sight. Gentle fingers cup his cheek, drawing their gazes back to each other. “Ah Xu...”

The pressure of a thumb to the corner of his mouth stops whatever else he has to say. Ah Xu’s eyes are bright in the dark; two guiding lights that he cannot help but follow. Even if they lead him right to his ruin. 

“You are a mystery I could spend the rest of my life unravelling.”

The first meeting of their lips is a breathless gasp, a painful bite of teeth to flesh; a messy slide of tongue to tongue, a play on dominance. His hands find hold firm on Ah Xu’s waist, sliding higher up his back when they pull away for a beat, before diving right back into each other. 

Stumbling steps take them to the bed, graceless touches reach for belt and cloth, rejoicing in every inch uncovered between them. Wen Kexing holds him close, surrendering to his Ah Xu with worshipful whispers of his name to his brow, his cheek, the spit slick seam of his lips.

“How do you want me?”

How? Wen Kexing softly chuckles, giddy at the unexpected amusement that bubbles up in him. Brushing his fingers through dark hair, he pulls him back down, drunk on wine and kisses. “I want you in every way you will share with me. I want you, just you.”

The prettiest shade of pink colours Ah Xu’s cheeks and Wen Kexing gives in to the need to trace the arc of his cheekbone. “I am yours,” He murmurs. “Yours to keep, to dispense with however you choose. Yours, alone.”

They fall into each other, moving to divest the rest of their clothes, only for Ah Xu to stop him right before he can take off his inner shirt. He pulls back, uncaring of this pause and ready to agree to anything he may ask of him. The night is warm and Wen Kexing drinks in every measured stretch muscle flexing under his touch as his Ah Xu moves between his thighs, hair pushed back in sweat tangled rivers. He engraves the sight of him into his mind; the proud bearing, curve of his cock rising from a thatch of wiry pubic hair. A bright grin flashes as he licks his lips and Wen Kexing shivers in anticipation. Clever fingers draw his half-hard cock into his hand, slowly stroking it. 

Wen Kexing watches, heart hammering a jackrabbiting beat as pleasure strikes up his senses, thighs falling further open for Ah Xu to hook his legs over his hips. There is a press of something warm and hard against his balls. This, like this, there is no mistaking what will be happening.

“Then, tonight, I’ll have you like this.”

He has to close his eyes when he feels the velveteen heat of Ah Xu’s mouth around him; thinks he must have died and gone to heaven at the almost expert way those fingers prepare him with oil that he hadn’t been aware was there. He has to hold back the moans that leave him in increasing desperation as he arches off the bed when Ah Xu begins to piston and scissor his fingers.

Irrationally, he feels suddenly jealous of all the lovers Ah Xu has had before. He feels a burn of jealousy so fierce it almost eclipses any sense of sanity he still clings on to. He wants to kill them all. Every single person who has ever known Ah Xu like this, every single person who has had this pleasure wrung out of them in this exquisite way, he wants them dead.

He feels his leg being stretched higher, a gentle brush of a kiss to his ankle. It anchors him to the present and Wen Kexing reaches out for Ah Xu, elated when he comes willingly. 

“Ready?”

Wen Kexing can only nod. Holding on tight as he feels himself being spread open, the blunt press of a cockhead, the bright flash of pain of that first push going in. It has been awhile and Ah Xu proves himself a considerate lover as he waits for him to adjust. “I won’t last long,” He admits in a rush, exhaling in stuttering hiccups against salt damp cheek. “I can’t--”

“Just let go. Just trust me. Let go,” Ah Xu hushes, bringing their brows together. “I’m here.”

He loses time to the rocking of their hips, the way that this feels too close to lovemaking. He keeps his hands in Ah Xu’s hair, breathing in the scent of his sweat, his skin on his tongue. 

“Ah Xu...” He sighs, mouth parting as he lets himself fall off the precipice of his desire. 

The thoughts running in his mind quiets further with every trembling roll of his hips chasing the pressure of Ah Xu’s thrusts as he rides the wave of bliss. Distantly, he is aware of the moment Ah Xu stops and reaches a hand down to pull himself out, stroking himself off between Wen Kexing’s thighs, slick painting his ass cheeks a pale glistening track.

A mark of who he belongs to.

Wen Kexing doesn’t fight it when Ah Xu crawls into the space next to him on the bed, flopping down inelegantly with a huff. “I’ll get up to wipe us off in a minute,” Ah Xu promises, throwing a leg over him. “I just need to rest.”

Wen Kexing smiles, brushing back his hair from his face. Those beautiful eyes are closed, breath already slowly evening out. Will Ah Xu regret this in the morning? He finds himself almost wishing he wouldn’t. Gently stroking those beautiful shoulders, he swallows down all the wants and what-ifs. “Take all the time you need.”

[fandomsfeelsandfanfics]

Pillow Talk/// Sirius Black x Reader

SUMMARY: Sleeping with each other turns into pillow talk which turns into something more.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNING(S): implied smut but that’s it

A/N: this is something I've wanted to write for a min so here it is.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

   Sirius flopped down next to you on the bed. His breath fanned over your shoulder as he sighed pleasantly. You looked over at him out of the corner of your eye, not daring to fully take him in.

   His full eyelashes rested on his cheeks that were still slightly flushed from your...previous activities. He had a vague, sort of far away smile playing at his lips. His hair was all over the place and a few strands were pressed against his forehead. You had half a mind to brush them away, then you’d have access to kiss his forehead.

   For a moment you let yourself play with the fantasy of running your hands through his hair. You’d touched his hair before, of course. You’d pushed it away when it was getting in your way and you’d pulled it. But maybe it would feel different if you slowly let the waves slip between your fingers, running your hands through his hair slowly until he drifted to sleep. Maybe...

   You cleared your throat to bring you out of your delusions. What you and Sirius had wasn’t about the sweet, romantic moment. It was about the lonely nights and moments where he needed you and just so happened to have his dorm room all to himself. That’s all. 

   You threw your legs over the side of his bed and his arm slipped from around your waist. He stirred slightly making an attempt to say something but it came out as more of a grunt.

    You got up, searching the floor for your skirt. When you finally spotted it and started pulling it up your legs, Sirius sat up and asked, “Woah, woah, where are you going?” 

   You turned to look at him. He was sat up and his sheets were pooled around his waist, exposing his bare torso, in all it’s effortlessly muscular glory. You pretended to search for your shirt just to keep yourself from staring. 

   “Uh...NEWTs are coming up, I was gonna hit the library.” You saw your shirt sleeve poking out from under his bed and reached for it. He reached out to grab your arm and you looked up at him. 

   “You can do that later. C’mon lay here with me for a minute.” You stood up, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?” 

   “Nothing, I just didn’t take you for the cuddling type of guy,” you teased. 

   “Well, that’s because you never asked. I’ve been told I’m a great cuddler.” He opened his arms and beckoned you towards him. “C’mon.” 

   Merlin, how nice that would be. Wrapped up in Sirius’s arms under a quilt that you could only guess was made by Mrs. Potter and that you knew for a fact was incredibly warm. 

   You crossed your arms. “I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to be at the Quidditch game?” 

   Sirius waved his hand as if batting that thought away. “Nah, I’ve been to a thousand Quidditch games. I can miss one.” 

   “What about your dormmates? Surely, they’ll be back soon.” Sirius sighed. 

   “No. James is playing Quidditch and he’ll probably be celebrating with Lilly after that. Remus is finishing up some Transfiguration homework. And Peter is following James around or something, who cares. Are you out of excuses now?” You could read the frustration on his face. 

   A small smile tugged at the side of your mouth. You put your hand on the bed and leaned down closer to him. “I don’t know. Give me a second to come up with one.” 

   He shook his head. “Alright.” He rolled away from you in the bed. “You take your time, I’ll be here waiting.” You smiled at him. 

   “Fine,” you mumbled. He took a peek at you, over his shoulder.

   “What was that,” he asked. He was smirking. You knew he’d heard you, he just wanted to hear you say it again. 

   You brough your leg up, resting your knee on the bed, and reaching over to shove him. “Move over.” 

   He made room for you in the bed as you crawled under the covers. As soon as you were in the bed, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. He was warm and he smelled like smoke and something sweet, that you couldn’t quite place. Your hand came up to absentmindedly run along his stomach and chest and he made a barely audible sound deep in his throat. 

   You let out a breath and practically melted into him. You could allow yourself this, maybe just for a moment. You could pretend that there was something real between you and Sirius. You could hope that maybe tomorrow when he saw you in the halls there would be more than just a passing glance or small talk. You closed yours eyes and nuzzled into his chest. 

   “So, what do you wanna do after Hogwarts?” 

   You opened your eyes and looked up at him. “Hmm?” 

   “Got any plans for when you’re out of this place?” Well, how’s that for more than small talk.

   “What the hell is this, Black? Now we’re doing pillow talk?” You poked him in the stomach and he laughed before swatting your hand away. 

   “I’m sorry for trying to get to know you.” 

   “I think you know me pretty well.” 

   “Oh come on, just because I’ve seen you naked doesn’t mean I know you. I mean, what are your hopes and dreams? Where do you see yourself in 20 years?” He was starting to sound more like a job interview. You chuckled at that thought. “What?” 

   “Nothing. Okay, lover boy, I guess I could see myself working in the Ministry or maybe teaching here. You?” 

   “I dunno. Auror work sounds nice. But...” He looked down at you, suddenly serious. “Don’t laugh.” 

   You met his gaze. “I won’t.”

   “Seriously?” You’d never seen Sirius shy before. He’d never been afraid to say or do anything, but now he looked down at you with this vulnerable look in his eye and you realized you really didn’t know him at all.

   You reached for his hand under the covers and when you found it, you wrapped your pinkie around his. “Seriously.” 

   He took your hand into his and intertwined his fingers with yours. “Okay. Well, all I’ve really ever wanted to do was travel. I’ve always felt trapped. I wanna see the world, meet new people, really live. Maybe I’ll leave magic behind for a while and find something else.” 

   There was a light behind his eyes as he talked about it. The room was silent for a moment as you just stared into his eyes. You could get lost in them. Brilliantly grey and deep. 

   “What?” You blinked, drawing your attention back to him.

   “Sirius, why would I laugh at that?” He smiled easily. 

   “My mom used to say it was stupid.” Your hand came up, resting on his jaw. You closed the gap between the two of you, kissing him softly. He leaned into you, taking you all in. 

   You pulled away, just enough that your lips were barely ghosting against his. His hand brushed against yours on his jaw. “What was that for?”

   “I’m sorry about your mom. I think that’s brilliant.” Your thumb ran along his cheek slowly.

   “Don’t worry about it. My mom’s a hag.” You laughed and he joined you. “I got out of there in time, I just hope it’s not too late fo Reg.” He brought your hand to his lips and absentmindedly kissed your knuckles. 

   “What about you, love? Got any family trauma you wanna let me in on?” You tensed slightly at his petname. This all felt a little too good to be true. It felt almost like a dream. 

   His face looked sweet and his eyes. Those damn eyes. You rolled over in bed so that your back was to him. He wasted no time wrapped his arms around your waist and putting his head behind you on the pillow. “You don’t have to talk about it if you want.” His hand came up to rub up and down your arm. 

   “No, that’s not it. It’s just...is it love now?” You heard him laugh behind you.

   “Would you prefer baby or sweetheart or honey pie?” He kissed your shoulder  and laughed again. You could feel his laughter vibrate in his chest as his chest pressed further into your back. 

   “I would prefer (Y/N),” you replied flatly. 

   “Alright, I get it. Not into pet names. That’s alright, I like saying your name. (Y/N)...it’s beautiful.” You sighed. “What?” 

   “Nothing, just...nothing.” His arms tightened around your waist. 

   “So...back to our pillow talk. Are you seeing anyone?” You almost laughed. 

   “Excuse me,” you murmured.

   “I mean, we didn’t exactly say we were exclusive...” You couldn’t quite read his tone and you didn’t want to look over your shoulder at him. You didn’t know where he was going with this, but you didn’t like it. 

   “Hmm.” You scooted your hips back, wiggling against his crotch. “The only person I’m currently in bed with is you.” He groaned slightly but then he abruntly grabbed your hips to stop you from moving.

   “As much as I would love to do...that. And trust me, I really love it,” he chuckled. “But I’m being serious. What are we?” You sat up, looking at him.

   “Sirius, what the hell are you talking about?” 

   “I’m talking about us.” He paused, looking at you. “We’ve never really talked about it.” 

   “I don’t know, Sirius. It’s kinda hard to tell what the hell we are when you only act like I exist when you have a hard-on.” 

   “Woah! That’s so not true!” Your eyes widened. 

   “Oh really? So that’s why you only want me around when no one else is around? Why we have to sneak around and barely ever talk to each other when we’re not in your bed?” You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to respond. 

   “I...I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was that big of a deal.” You huffed, throwing the covers back, and getting out of bed.

   “Well, it is.” You reached for your shirt and then spun back around to him. “I’m tired of being your damn secret, okay?” You buttoned your shirt as quickly as you could but your fingers couldn’t seem to move as fast as your mind. “Merlin!”

   You didn’t even realize Sirius was out of bed until he was standing in front of you. “(Y/N), calm down.” He grabbed your hands. You stared down at your hands in his. His were so much bigger than yours but somehow, they seemed to fit together perfectly. “Calm down.”

   You tore your hands away from his. “Don’t tell me to calm down! You think you can just string me along until you decide we can get serious? What so you can just move on to the next girl?” His mouth fell open in shock. 

   “Listen, Sirius, I’m done. Done being your little fuck buddy or whatever the hell this is.” You went back to your shirt.

   “No, I totally understand what you’re saying. I get it. But for the record, you were never my secret.” You gave him a look of disbelief. “Really, I never shut up about you. Sunrise to sunset it’s just (Y/N). (Y/N). (Y/N). You can ask anyone. You are literally all that’s ever on my mind.”

   “You’re so full of shit.” You tucked your shirt into your skirt. You walked around him, avoiding his eye by pretending to search the floor for your tie. 

   “I’m telling the truth! I tried to play it cool, for you because I didn’t know if you were ready.” You scoffed, throwing Sirius’s pants over your shoulder in hopes of finding your tie. 

   “Yeah, didn’t know it was that much of an honor to be seen in public with you.” Sirius followed you around the bed.

   “That’s not what I’m saying at all. You weren’t exactly making any attempts to make us ‘official’. Every time I would try to come up to you after class or in the halls you would turn and walk the other way or tense up or you wouldn’t even spare me two words. It seemed like the only time I could ever get you to even look at me was in bed.” 

   You stood up and turned to face him. “Because that’s the only time you wanted me!” 

   “I want you all the time! I want you! I want to be with you! Okay?! I don’t know how else to get it through to you, I love you!” You stopped in your tracks, all thoughts of finding your tie abandoned. Slowly you stood up and turned around to look at him.

   “Love me,” you repeated, just above a whisper. Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes.

   “Merlin, you’re dim. Do I need to spell it out for you?” You didn’t respond. All you wanted to do in that moment was take him in. 

Sirius Black, notorious heartthrob was looking at you with the sweetest eyes you’d ever seen. He looked so perfect, so fragile he might break if you said the wrong thing. Sirius Black, leather jacket-clad bad boy, who apparently had a thing for cuddling and pillow talk. And you. Sirius Black, who loved you. 

   You couldn’t help but giggle. His eyebrow immediately shot up. “I just confessed my love to you and you’re laughing. What’s so funny?”

   “It’s just,” you managed to get out between laughs, “you aren’t anything like I thought you were.” He crossed his arms defensively. “For the record, I think I love you too.” Or at least you were starting to. 

   Sirius looked shocked, that’s the only way you could’ve described it. His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open for just a moment, then a smile spread across his face. “I...okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you to say that. Um, okay.” He giggled slightly like he couldn’t help himself, then he cleared his throat in an attempt to keep some handle on his composure. 

   “So, I totally hear what you’re saying about not sneaking around and being more than...well, whatever it is that we are. So what do you say I take you out?” He rocked back and forth on his heels and stared at you expectantly. “I mean, we don’t have to if you’re not-” 

   Before he could say anything, you practically leaped in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. His hands scrambled to find your waist and he pulled you closer to him.

   By the time, you came up for air you were both breathless and a little more than elated. “Geez, (Y/L/N), at least buy me dinner first.” 

   “Very funny,” you mumbled before pecking him on the lips again. “Pick me up in an hour?” 

   “Yeah totally.” You pulled away from his embrace, straightening your clothes. You spotted your tie out of the corner of your eyes and quickly grabbed it before heading for the door. 

   Before you left, you took one more chance to look at Sirius, only to find him staring right back at you. “I’ll miss you,” he practically whispered.

   “Yeah, I’m sure you will. Bye honey pie.”

[enbies-and-felonies]

Heather

@illavarasi @lemontarto @clearlykeefitz @book-limerence @sprintingkoala @anna-without-an-e  @everyonehasthoughts @ultralazycreatorfan @vibing-in-the-void @impostertamsong @littlemisscupcake @keeper-of-the-lost-queers @dragonwinnie @an-absolute-travesty @callas-starkflower-stew

~writing strike is over~

Summary: Fitz watches as he slowly loses Keefe, based off of this post.

warnings: internalized homophobia, swearing, general angst (and a rant that ties in heavily to current events) and caps (yelling)

~I still remember, before I brought her to the cities~

He was beautiful. Fitz had told a joke and now Keefe was laughing, and he was beautiful. Fitz wondered why his father had glared at the two men they had seen kissing at the Atlantis tea shop they had been visiting that evening. Kissing Keefe would have felt so. Right.

But he was only thirteen, so what did Fitz know?

~you and I together / you said we’d be forever, and I had hoped it was true~

“Another pair of crush cuffs,” Keefe said mockingly, but his smirk betrayed his words.

Fitz rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna wear them anyway, I don’t like her.” He didn’t like any of the girls.

“Well why not?! I’m sure-” Keefe paused to read the cuff’s, “-Azula is a darling girl.” 

“I couldn't care less. Girls are too... complicated. I’d much rather just hang out with someone I already know I like.”

Keefe flopped onto the bed beside him, “Like your best friend? Who got you all the ladies to begin with?” He turned over to his side and waggled his eyebrows at Fitz, who rolled his eyes in response.

“Girls break people’s hearts. They leave.” Fitz said. Not my heart, he thought.

“Well, I’ll never leave you, Roy. We’ll be forever besties.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

~ only if you knew, how much I liked you / but I watch your eyes as she / walks by ~

“So Foster was obviously not sleeping, like she always does, and I-” 

Keefe was rambling about Sophie, and Fitz’s heart was breaking. It was breaking and it didn’t matter because he was gay and he could never have been with Keefe anyway, but why did Keefe have to love her? Why couldn’t he just stay with Fitz forever?

“-but I guess it didn’t matter because after that she looked at me with those doe eyes, and Princey? I think- I think I might be falling for her.”

~replacing me in your mind, smile brighter than the sun in the sky / she’s got you mesmerized, while I’m crying~

“Hey Keefe, do you want to hang out tonight? I got this super cool elixir from Dex, and I want to see how it turns out. It would be perfect for pranking your dad.” Fitz smiled hopefully. Sure, Keefe liked Sophie, but they were still friends, they could still-

“Sorry Roo, another time? Sophie and I, and Linh and Marella, are gonna go to Atlantis to check out this hair stylist. Sophie wants to see me in braids, and I don’t trust Biana with my lovely locks. I didn’t get this head of hair by trusting lesbians with it after all.” His eyes twinkled like they always did, and Fitz swallowed hard to ignore the twinge in his chest.

“No problem, Keefe. Another time.” His eyes prickled as the imparter went dark.

He wondered if Keefe remembered letting Fitz place a misshapen flower crown on his head after Fitz had painstakingly done small braids in his blonde hair. He wondered if he even cared.

~Why would you ever kiss me? / I’m not even half as pretty~

Fitz breathed in the sweet smell of Panakes flowers as he held Keefe’s hand, their fingers loosely linked.

“Hey, let’s dance.” Keefe tugged him to his feet, and Fitz dragged his gaze away from the stars.

“Why?” He asked, laughing, “We don’t even know how to.”

Keefe only grinned in response, so Fitz rolled his eyes and stood, placing his right hand on Keefe’s left shoulder and blushing when his breath hitched as Keefe placed his hand fully on Fitz’s waist. His ice-blue eyes twinkled and he smirked.

“I’ve got you, Roo.” He whispered, and Fitz let his heart race as Keefe pulled them close together, chests brushing, the side of his cheek brushing against Fitz’s ear.

And they danced, swaying gently back and forth, the only music the in-sync beating of their hearts.

Eventually Keefe drew back slightly, just enough to look Fitz in his teal eyes.

“May I...?” He whispered, breath feather-soft against Fitz’s lips. Keefe’s grip tightened on his hip as Fitz nodded, and he leaned in.

The brush of his lips was like a memory, and Fitz found himself closing his eyes as his heart burst into a thousand different colours of love and wistfulness and he felt complete and shattered at the same time-

He blinked as he woke up. A tear slid down the side of his face. He shut his eyes tight, trying recapture even the slightest moment from the dream, but it was gone.

~you gave her your artwork, its just pen and paper / but you like her better / (I wish I were Foster)~

“You’ve been pretty quiet lately, Wonderboy. What’s up?” Keefe lay on the floor, legs swinging as he sketched something. Fitz looked up from his book ‘Wuthering Heights’ (a human book that so far had been nothing but depressing) and sighed.

“I haven’t been sleeping well, and I don’t know why.” Half-truth, since he really hadn’t been sleeping well, but he knew exactly why. Just like he knew Keefe probably wouldn’t push it.

Or maybe he didn’t, because the next words out of Keefe’s mouth were, “Really? There seems to be more on your mind than just that, Roy.” He looked up from the paper and blew a strand of hair from his eyes.

Fitz closed his book. Convincing Keefe was going to be harder than he had assumed.

“I guess... I don’t know. I’m just...” FUCK FUCK FUCK, WHAT SHOULD HE SAY?! 

“I’m worried about the future. I mean, how is being thrown into one of the biggest historical upheavals going to affect us? We’re just kids!! But we’re being expected to fight these people, and the adults around us don’t even help us the way we need them to?? Years from now, will it even be over? Why do WE have to be the ones to change the world? 

“They don’t give us authority, but they burden us with responsibility. Do they honestly think it won’t affect us? The world is going to hell and we’re still expected to do good in school and keep our heads down like it isn’t OUR future that’s being shitted on. Like the people who have the power to do something aren’t sitting on their ASSES doing absolutely fucking NOTHING?!

“People can make as many fucking jokes about us being lazy, when in reality we’re fucking world weary at an age where we’re not even old enough to fucking DRINK.”

Damn, maybe he was better at covering the real reason for his sleep than he thought... At least this part wasn’t a lie.

“Fuck, Fitz. That’s heavy...” Keefe rolled over and sat up, “That’s what’s going on? Fuck, if I knew that I wouldn’t have teased you about it.”

 He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but the words changed before they came out, “I kinda feel the same way. I just don’t know what to do about it, so I make jokes. It doesn’t always help, but at least I don’t have to face the fear that.... well, y’know.”

They sat that way for a long, silent stretch before Fitz cleared his throat.

“Whatcha, um- What are ya drawing?”

Keefe looked at Fitz’s eyes another long second before picking up the piece of paper and studying it. “It’s a drawing for Foster. It’s when we rode on Silveny to heal her abilities. I figured it’d be a good gift since I plan on... I mean, I’m gonna try to ask her out.”

Oh.

Fitz forced a smile, “It looks good,  Keefe. She’ll love it.”

“You sure?” It was one of the only times Fitz had seen Keefe nervous, and for a moment Fitz was tempted to shout ‘NO, of COURSE not’ and jump across the room before tearing it to shreds, but then he was overcome by guilt and he nodded.

“I’m absolutely sure, Keefe,” He stated, voice thick, “Cognates, remember?”

Keefe took a deep breath, “Yeah, thanks Wonderboy.” He smiled and tucked the picture into his pocket.

Fitz turned back to his book, the tears in his eyes blurring the words into a mess.

~ Oohhh, Oooohhh, wish I were Foster~

She said yes. Of course she said yes. Keefe was perfect for her, and everyone could see it.

And Fitz was happy for them -they were his two best friends!- he just. Wished that it was Fitz that Keefe had been happy with. Wished that it was him that he had loved.

[cycat4077]

When the Time is Right

Summary: Is it time to take your relationship to the next level?  Set at the start of S18 - roughly August 2016. Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Mature themes...of the NSFW variety, some cussing, fluff, feels, etc. Words: 1927 AO3 here

Technically part 12 in the Changes verse, but can act as a stand-alone.

Consider this a Valentine’s day themed thingy even though it’s set in August 🥰

"It's weird I guess," you say in between sips of tea, "how some parts of our relationship have happened so quickly, like meeting his parents right away, while other parts of it aren't rushed at all. For instance, the two of us were complete idiots and it took a couple of months to formally say ‘I love you’." The admission makes you chuckle, but as you look up from your drink, the devious grin pasted across your friend’s face tells you that she’s hung up on one small detail.

"You guys haven't done it yet, have you?" blurts Sydney, sitting wide-eyed across from you on her sofa.

You're normally a pretty private person so you can't help it when your cheeks start to burn, effectively giving away your secret.

"You haven't!" she exclaims, eagerly setting down her teacup, ready for details.

"Syd!"

The blonde raises her arms in mock defense. "Hey, hey! There's nothing wrong with it but it's kind of a rarity to not be in each other's pants by now!"

You grow even more self-conscious, tracing the rim of your mug handle as a distraction.

"Listen,” Sydney begins sternly, “he's super nice to you and charming and sweet, so I just wanna make sure he's not -"

But you interrupt her before she can make the accusation. "Sonny isn't like that," you state, adopting a firm tone of your own. "We just haven't gotten there yet...there's been no rush. I feel totally comfortable around Sonny and he's never once made me feel like we should be doing anything."

"Good," she asserts. "I just want to make sure you're not being played because the good ones are really hard to find."

Ever since you met in college, Sydney has been fiercely protective of you, and clearly that side of her is something that's never changed. Despite her thirst for details, you also know that you can truly trust her so you suppose there's no harm in opening up a little. "I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about it,” you confess sheepishly. “I went on the pill not long after we started dating because you never know, but our lives have been so busy and messy. Especially this summer. We've had our ups and downs - some beyond our control and some were issues that we've worked out together. I really feel like we've come out of it stronger and the more we experience together, the more I’m certain that Sonny is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Sydney cracks a goofy smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Corny. I know," you wave dismissively, "but I can't help loving him more and more each day. Our relationship is so special to me and personally, sex is one of the most intimate things a couple can do. It's about love. So, waiting for the right time isn't a big deal. If anything, it will just bring us that much closer."

"Girl, you're crazy lucky!” chimes Sydney, affectionately. "And there's nothing wrong with waiting to bang. You remember me from back in the day and how I had my fair share of ‘promiscuous encounters’. Actually, with Geoff..." Sydney's eyes narrow as she recollects her ex, "fuck, do I wish we had waited! He said all the right things and made all the right gestures. Our relationship moved so fast! We hit the milestones at a hundred miles per hour…and I believed it! But then the cheating started. When I found out - and I still feel this way sometimes - when I think about having slept with him, I feel so dirty and cheap." She ducks her head and you can tell that the wound still smarts.

"You can't blame yourself for his behavior!" you rationalize, wishing your friend wouldn't be so hard on herself.

"I know! And I don't, but it's that shame and embarrassment of knowing I was so foolish to believe there was love there. Even the thought of having given myself over to him in that way makes me wanna upchuck. Hell, those one-night stands where the guy dips out as soon as he finishes don't feel as cheap or degrading. So, hon, there's nothing wrong with the pace you're moving at. Believe me. Maybe if I had waited longer with Geoff, his true colours would have shone through earlier..."

"It's in the past, Syd," you reason, "and you know what is special about that? It goes to show you how much you can trust and love someone. And even though Geoff was a total asshole, there's gonna be a guy out there for you someday who will be worthy of all that."

Sydney smiles despite herself. "You're a total sap, you know that, right?" You grin at her and nod proudly. "But I love ya for it." She then leans across the sofa and gives you a grateful hug. Parting, Sydney continues. "You'll know when the time is right," she reassures you. "You may talk about it or it may just happen, but you and Sonny are the mushiest, most in-love couple I've ever seen, so I know you'll be just fine."

-x-

Nights in with Sonny are the best. Lately you both had been so busy. Sonny was working overtime on top of double shifts, while you were occupied with perfecting your new course curriculum before the semester started.

When the two of you were finally able to have an evening off, you'd find something to eat and just lounge on the couch; maybe pop in a movie and sit snuggled up together. You didn't need to be doing anything in particular to enjoy each other's company.

Sometimes though, those cozy moments strayed towards other forms of physical affection. To put it in simple terms: you’d make out…And tonight happened to be no different.

"This movie's dumb," grumbles Sonny, leaning his head on the back of the sofa.

"Yep," you agree, staring blankly at the tv screen.

Sonny then turns his face towards you, offering a cheeky grin. "At least tha company's good."

You flop yours in his direction. "I suppoooose so," you tease with a roll of your eyes.

Sonny pouts and you laugh at how ridiculous he looks. When his put-on expression doesn't crack, you decide it's time to steer the evening towards a more preferable form of entertainment. "Y'know, if you don't stop making that face, I'm gonna have to wipe it off you myself." There's a deliberate hint of suggestion in your voice and you bite your lip to make your intentions crystal clear.

With a gleam in his eye, Sonny playfully deepens the curl of his frown which obviously leaves you with no choice but to reach out, nab his jaw and pull him to your lips. His arm encircles you and his hand presses against your back to coax you near. The quick peck blossoms into several more deep and passionate kisses; the two of you barely able to spare a breath in between.

As things continue to heat up you climb over and straddle Sonny’s lap. To your delight, this move elicits an 'Mmm!' of pleasant surprise from the Italian detective’s throat. Your hair falls over your shoulder as you peer down into his swirling blue eyes. "Hi," you grin quietly.

Sonny stares up at you in wonder. His hands fix themselves to the small of your waist. "Hey," he returns softly as the corners of his mouth cradle a gentle smile.

You hold his gaze a moment longer, soaking in the view. You're still in awe that the man before you is all yours, but as you lean down to capture his lips, you're reassured of your reality. Sonny mirrors your every move, matching your passion. The kisses grow even more heated. Your fingertips work at his silver temples while Sonny's hands burn up your skin where they've snuck themselves beneath your shirt. A gentle but firm squeeze is all it takes for your hips to involuntarily grind down against his.

Suddenly, Sonny raises your bum off of his lap. "What's wrong?" you ask with worry.

He shuts his eyes reluctantly before opening them to you, brow furrowed and expression vulnerable. "It's just...well, if we keep this up..." He winces and his cheeks turn pink.

You shift your knees on the sofa to steady yourself and raise your own eyebrows in understanding. "Oh," you say, growing quiet and nervous. The two of you never did get around to a discussion on taking things further, which left you to wonder where Sonny stood on the matter.

Ever the gentleman, he delicately tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "I just don't know if we're ready for...this."

"Babe," you sit back on his thighs, rubbing your palms soothingly along his shoulders. "Do you want to wait? I know your beliefs are a little firmer than mine."

"Nuh-no! It's not that!" he exclaims. "I just don't wanna move too fast for you!" Sonny too, turns timid as he speaks.

You can't help but smile down at him. What had you done to deserve such a sweetheart? You recall the conversation with Sydney from a couple weeks ago. She was right.

"I believe in love," you breathe, running your thumb tenderly along his cheek, "and I love you more than anything."

"I love you too, doll," echoes Sonny, the confidence returning to his voice.

You kiss him again. It's long and lingering, reigniting the flame between you. Sonny draws you to his chest and you link your arms behind his neck. "I want this, if you do," you speak in a soft voice.

"I want this too. I want you...so much." The reply is almost a whisper, his lips mere inches from your own.

Emboldened, you withdraw and stand up, your skin tingling where his fingers brush along your waist. Never breaking eye contact, you reach out your hand. Sonny accepts and you lead him to the bedroom.

-x-

The next morning you awake to orange licks of early sunlight flickering through the blinds. Sonny's arm surrounds you, clutching you to his bare chest. His heavy breathing sounds beside your ear and you think it impossible for life to be any more perfect. You snuggle your naked form closer into his, wishing to stay in his warm embrace forever.

Then Sonny begins to stir. "Mornin' beautiful," he says, Staten Island accent heavy with sleep.

"Morning," you turn over in his arms to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He releases you, propping his head up on an elbow. "Last night was..."

"Wow," you finish with a flirtatious grin.

Sonny sighs dreamily, "yeah." He then takes a finger and beings tracing light circles over your exposed shoulder. "Kinda wish we'd done that sooner." His tone is husky but his eyes are filled with affection.

"We've got our whole lives ahead of us, Sonny," you offer before delicately sweeping a piece of his hair away from his forehead.

You watch his blue eyes soften and crinkle at the corners. Dimples form from his smile. But instead of answering, he simply leans forward and kisses you.

Last night wasn't just physical; you found a whole new connection with Sonny. One deeply rooted in attraction but brought to life and nurtured by love. It was like you were completely in synch, giving and taking from one another wholly and completely. And, as you once again melt into his kiss, you know that everything had worked out just as it was meant to be.

---

Part 13 here!

A/N: I really love this fic. I've had it in my drafts for a long time and I really wanted to find the perfect place to add it into the series. I'm no expert but it kind of ticks me off how the media portrays physical relationships to be the holy grail...like it's a make or break type thing or that people need to be physical to fall in love. So, I tend to gravitate towards character-couples who do the opposite...and to me, Sonny seems like the type who values an emotional connection over a purely physical one. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed reading this fic! The last paragraph is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written!

[palettepainter]

Coming out

A quick message before you get into the story - I really wanted to do something for LGBT cuz I always end up forgetting or not having time to finish any drawings, most of the time I just do art about my OC’s and what their cannon sexualities are - but this year I wanted to do something a bit more serious, if that makes sense I’ve always been told by parents and friends that as long as you are coming out to people who you trust and people you know who will support you, then in the end, everything will be fine. I’ve always thought that if I where to ever be bisexual, gay, asexual or any other LGBT term that I would be comfortable to open up to my family. My preferences for who I like romantically aren’t really something I think all about that much. I’ve never dated and thus far all my luck with crushes and boys has just been really bad - and as someone who was and still is incredibly shy about dating and pretty much anything romantic I’ve learnt to not rush into things, I’ll find out who/what I like in time Now that I’m older I’ve been thinking more on it, and though I don’t want to go too deep into this stuff since it is personal, even with a supportive family I still have that fear of talking about these sorts of things. I wanted to write this story to show that even despite the fact someone may have a supportive family, supportive friends or even just that one supportive person in their life - overcoming that hurdle of fear and exposing a part of yourself that is so personal and dear, is terrifying. It’s a big relief to finally talk about these things yes, especially if you’ve been forced to shut these kinds of things away (in which case I hope you are in a happier healthier environment). But even with that in mind it can be hard for anyone to open up about these things, even those who know they’re in a safe environment and know they have family to support them. I don’t know if I got that message into this story, this is my first time writing something that tackled LGBT this seriously so I hope I was able to do it right. Okay message over ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A story between Jaakuna (Comoress x Kashu, oc) and Jizuko (Monoma x Pony) Jaakuna in my cannon NGAU is gay, whereas Jizuko is bisexual. Jizuko if the first person Jaakuna comes out to, and Jizuko is fiercely supportive. So here’s a little coming out story between my OC’s!~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jizuko had been happily doodling away idly in one of her notebooks when the door to her room suddenly opened, and none other then Jaakuna stepped inside. She rose a brow, watching as he stepped inside without a word and bumped her door closed with his heel “Ever heard of knocking?” She asked, brow cocked as she moved her head up from her notebook “I could have been changing or something” Jaakuna, still not saying a word, walked over to her bed, sat down, and then let his body flop backwards against the mattress. Jizuko rose a brow further, examining his face, though his gaze was skyward there was something distant about it, as though he was lost somewhere deep in thought. She titled her head, nudging his shoulder with her foot “Hello? Gunna answer me??” She asked, honestly not caring about her previous questions, but now just curious to see if he’d speak. Jaakuna behind closed doors with close friends, to her, was a much more quite and chill person, but that aside, he was never totally silent. When she got not response, she put down her notebook and shuffled on the bed, sitting cross legged besides him while she hugged an one of her many plushies to her chest “..You wanna talk about it?” She asked, resting her head a top of her toys. “Mngh..” Jizuko moved and picked up another one of her plush toys, and placed it ontop of Jaakuna’s chest, where his hands reached up to hold it, lazily running his fingers through the soft felt - something she’d learnt he liked to do with her toys and pillows, but something he’d always deny when she asked about it. “Something happen??” She continued, arms returning to her own plushy “...I think I might be having a mid-life crisis” Jizuko blinked “..Well, that’s something” she clarified with a slow nod. Jaakuna replied with a small hum “...Wanna talk shit about it?” She asked innocently Many where surprised when Jizuko would say Jaakuna was one of her closest friends, the two couldn’t be more opposites if they tried. Jizuko was small and dainty looking, she liked cutesy things, her dorm itself was full to the brim with things that she loved: manga volumes, cooking books, plush toys and pillows, all the listed items for a typical ‘cute’ person. Jaakuna was dark and grumpy, often brooding in the corner silently or cussing out something or someone. Years ago, Jaakuna would have been someone she would avoid in the hallways - but beyond that edgy shell was a genuinely sweet and caring person. Jaakuna was caring, very caring, perhaps cared too much about his close friends. Deep down he had a big heart, but like many typical boys, he struggled to verbalise those feelings, and thus ended up getting angry. Jizuko and him shared a connection with that, both cared a lot for friends and family, and yet both felt as though they could only be heard by yelling their opinions. Their bond was what Jizuko would call special - Jaakuna had let his walls down a few times, letting her see him at his most vulnerable. She felt flattered he trusted her enough, and in turn she never told a soul what he would share with her - what he told her would stay with her till the day she died, Jaakuna had made her promise that. “Mngh..” Jaakuna all of a sudden looked..she couldn’t put her finger on it. He hugged the plushie to his chest, peering away from Jizuko. “Uh..it’s kinda complicated..” he started “Yeah, a life crisis usually is” Jizuko reasoned Jaakuna’s cheeks flushed a light pink, Jizuko quirked a brow but didn’t comment on it, not yet at least. Finally Jaakuna sat up, toy still held to him. He rubbed at his neck with one hand “I’m..kinda struggling with this one, more then the others I’ve had” “Well, are you gonna bitch about it or not?” Jaakuna gave her a look “Whaaat! It’s your fault for getting me all curious! And why come here in the first place?” Jaakuna opened his mouth to speak, but growled in frustration and then shuffled the other way, crossing his arms over his chest. Jizuko shimmied down the bed on her knees until she was sitting besides him, and then waited for him to start. “..So Uh, you remember how last week I mentioned I got invited to Yurei’s birthday?” A bit random, but she nodded “Yeah..” She pointed a finger to her forehead, where a small grey horn sprouted out next to her bangs “Guy with the horn?” Jaakuna nodded and Jizuko lowered her hand “Why? Did something happen??” She paused, before her eyebrows scrunched like gathering thunder heads, checks puffed out with a clear scowl on her face “Do you want me to punch him for you?” “Wha- No!” Jaakuna waved his hand and shook his head wildly, caught off guard at her sudden declaration of violence though not surprised, tiny people where a force to be reckoned with. “Uh, anyway: I went to the party and Uhm, well..I-it was me, Yūrei and a few others..” Jaakuna tucked his legs up to him, leaning back against the wall as he still refused to look at her. “And maybe like, an..hour or so into the party we-Uhm-“ jaakuna gulped, Jizuko watching the movement of his Adam’s apple before looking back to his face Jaakuna’s face and tips of his ears where flushed red, as he looked like he was trying to hide behind her plushie. Jaakuna groaned when he caught Jizuko’s confused gaze on him, and then muttered something under his breath “Uh..What was that?” Jizuko asked. Jaakuna groaned louder before repeating, in the same mumbly dribble “I can’t hear you” Jizuko said after shaking her head, having heard what it was Jaakuna had said just as clearly as the first time. Jaakuna snorted through his nose, pulling his head out from the toy he was practically burying his face in “Ugh! I said we...w-we got round to playing Uh, truth or dare” “..Okay well, that’s not unusual” Jizuko said with a shrug “And I Uh- May have, Uh..I-I got dared to..t-to Uh..” The more he spoke the redder his face became, and he seemed to become more fidgety and nervous, looking like a skittish animal that would flee at any second. Jaakuna cleared his throat, praying his embarrassment wasn’t as obvious as it felt “..I-I got dared to..to kiss...Yu...rei...” For a whole minute Jizuko didn’t emote, the words processing - she let them digest, sink in - and when they did, she gasped “You kissed Yūrei?!” “NO!” Jaakuna snapped at her like a mad dog Silence “....M-Maybe..” he repeated in a whisper, as though admitting it was some crime. “..On the lips or?” Jizuko elbowed him playfully with a wink, and Jaakuna bristled, leaning away “T-That ain’t important! Ya little pervert!” Jizuko cackled her usual crazy giggle, covering her mouth with a hand, clearly finding amusement in her best friends embarrassing story. When she was done laughing at him Jaakuna continued “Anyway...Ever since then I’ve been, feeling...like-weird...it’s not a-“ Jaakuna seemed to be struggling to grasp the right words, and yet Jizuko had an expression that said she already had it figured out “It’s not a BAD weird- well, sometimes it is? Like, some days it’s bad others it’s like..not as bad??” He began to gesture as he spoke, going off on a tangent, almost forgetting entirely Jizuko was there “And it’s been bugging me for the whole week, and it’s so fucking embarrassing and, like!..You know what I mean??” Jizuko hummed with a slow nod “Oh I know exactly what you mean” she said matter of factly Jaakuna didn’t like her tone of voice, or how she was looking at him as though she pitied his own obliviousness. “Well- what is it then wise guy?” He challenged boldly, leaning back and raising a brow. Jizuko held her hands together as though she was praying, and inhaled, before she dipped them “Jaakuna, you’re gay” “WHAT?!” If Jaakuna hadn’t been sitting with his back to her wall he would have for sure tumbled off the bed with how hard he jolted, bristling like a raged cat as he bared his teeth like some aggressive animal. “I AINT- what for- F-For that?? That- THAT SMUG LORD?!” He barked a loud laugh, and rolled his eyes “I ain’t bloody gay” Jizuko remained calm as ever “And yet I don’t recall you ever having a crush on a girl before” she said, raising a brow in thought. Jaakuna slowly turned to her, eye twitching, Jizuko failed to cower “And you always spend a lot of time with Yūrei, he even sits with you to eat lunch! That’s only a specialty reserved for very close people” “That doesn’t prove anything!” “Oh yeah?” Jizuko asked, not believing him “Name one girl you’d like to date” “Wha-“ Jaakuna gagged “Ew! Gross! You girls are disgusting..no offence” he added the last part with a small frown. Jizuko hummed again, and Jaakuna felt nervous, feeling like a corned animal while she was some predator, contradicting with how Jaakuna looked to be the more intimidating one of the two. “Come on! Admit it! You like him!” “I don’t.” Jaakuna gritted his teeth “I don’t..like like him” he clarified, cheeks going redder “Fine” Jizuko leaned back, relaxed, and crossed her arms, a shifty smug grin on her face “...Name a girl you’d wanna fu-“ “Name a girl you’d wanna date” she repeated, holding up a finger “Name ONE girl - and I’ll believe you don’t like him” Jaakuna snorted “Hmph. Okay, FINE. I will” he held his nose high, as if to look down on her. Jaakuna sat back, and opened his mouth...before closing it, and licking his lips, mouth suddenly dry. “Uh..” Jizuko’s brow rose further, watching his flustered suffering as Jaakuna struggled to think of an answer “I-Uh-...uhm, R-Runa, I guess?” “You guess?” Jizuko tilted her head “Or you know?” “W-Well-“ Jaakuna made a gesture with his hands, looking more lost then before, Jizuko’s staring wasn’t helping him “I mean- she’s cool! T-Theres nothing wrong with Runa! She’s got..uhm, she’s..” Jaakuna trailed off, looking to be struggling “...Got nice eyes??” He said, sounding just as confident as Jizuko expected him too “Mhm, yeah, red eyes right?” She asked, tilting her head and leaning closer. “Not quite like the red eyes of your classmate who’s seem to brighten whenever they land on you” Jizuko said coyly. Jaakuna shot her a sharp warning glare, Jizuko dared on “Mhm, yes sir you’d love yourself a tiny little goth girl. With nice skinny hips and arms. Arms that aren’t strong enough to lift you off the ground ever so slightly when you hug. With no nice flat chest to rest your head against, no no. And no smugly charming smooth voice chuckling ‘JayJay’ to you in greeting..” Jaakuna gulped, mouth suddenly dry, face as hot as the sun as he became lost in his mind...Jizuko had possibly the most obnoxiously smug grin on her face that it could put the Cheshire Cat to shame. Jaakuan’s cheeks flushed a deeper red so quickly he saw tiny white dots “I-I..” his throat was dry “...I don’t get what you’re implying” he muttered “Yeah, that blush on your face doesn’t say anything~” ‘Shit!..’ “Jaakuna, it’s okay..” Jizuko’s tone took a turn as she patted his shoulder soothingly, the smugness gone from her face entirely “You know your friends and myself will support you!” She chuckled lightly “Sides, I’m in the same boat as you..” Jizuko pulled her legs up to her chest, pressing a pink cheek into her knee “Crushing on your best friend and being too chicken to tell, sucks doesn’t it?” With a small smile she peered back up to Jaakuna, who’s scowl has lifted a little “What I’m saying is that I think you’ll be happy with Yūrei and you can make him happy. You guys are practically a duo! Hell, for the longest time I thought you two where already together” Jaakuna has fallen quite, half lidded eyes boring into the floor with an intense look to them, hands clutching at the pink blankets on Jizuko’s bed. “I’m. Not. Gay.” He growled, shoulders shaking “Not for him. Not for anyone! I like girls. Period.” Jizuko gave her best friend a flat look and rose a brow, mulling over what to do “...Okay then” Jizuko unfolded her legs to hang off one end of the bed and all of a sudden stood up “I’ll just go ask Yūrei on date~” “Wot?!” Jaakuna practically exploded from the bed, jumping across the room to splat himself against the door, blocking Jizuko’s only means of exit. Jizuko rose her brow, smirking “What’s the issue? Yurei’s a cute guy, and if you’re not taking him..” she waggled her brows and Jaakuna bristled, squawking like a turkey “I-you- Dont you dare!” He barked “You’re doing this on purpose!” “Doing what?” Jizuko asked, tilting her head “You’ve said you’re not gay so there’s no issue! I’ll just go and ask Yūrei on a date” Jizuko took no less then a step forward before Jaakuna tried to push himself further back against the door “Fuck off” “I don’t see why you’re being so dramatic: you’ve said you’re not gay, and that’s fine!” A smug smile pulled at her lips and Jaakuna growled, spreading his arms further over the door as if to hide it was even there. Jizuko peered skyward and then slowly rolled her eyes back towards Jaakuna “Unless of course..you have a problem with me asking him out” Jaakuna’s lips pulled back into a grimace, baring his teeth like an angry dog. Jizuko was unfazed as she turned to idly walk about her room “I mean, have you seen him?? That body?” She questioned “Damn, he’s really bulked up since the start of the year huh? Not that you would know” Jizuko shrugged “Of course, I’m sure all his fans know. I bet Yūrei gets tones of love letters! You know?” Jaakuna dragged his nails along the door, something in his gut twisting - where was she going with this??.. “Mhm, I bet he’s a good kisser. He looks like the type of be good at kissing - you know? The typical jock hot guy that’s all good with romance stuff? He fits the bill!” She turned to peer at Jaakuna over her shoulder, making sure their was enough distance between the two. Jaakuna’s eye twitched, the way she was talking about Yūrei was starting to really tick him off. He tried to brush it off and act indifferent to what she was saying, but that was becoming increasingly hard. His body was tense, his breaths deep as he tried to keep the wildfire in him at bay ‘She’s starting to get real annoying. If she says ONE more thing about Yūrei..’ “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t already..had thoughts about him” Jizuko turned around once more, and was met with Jaakuna’s chest. She peered up, where Jaakuna was glaring down at her coldly. It was like staring death itself in the face, what she was expecting. “Listen here you pintsize twat” Jaakuna growled, voice like venom “You say one more thing about Yūrei I’m going to drag your ass six feet under!” Jizuko hummed, calm in the face of danger. A passive look on her face “Well it’s a good thing he’s not my type” The change in expression was so drastic on Jaakuna’s face it would have given anyone whiplash with how quickly his glare fell “...But- You practically just said you like him!” “And that, my naive friend, was a lie” “...A lie?” Jaakuna repeated, blinking “Duh” Jizuko said with an eye roll as though it was obvious “Yurei’s too full of himself for me. It was all fake, just talk.” Jaakuna worked his jaw, numbly pointing to Jizuko “S-So...so everything you just said was too-“ “Get you angry so you’d finally realize YOU have a crush on Yūrei? Yes” Jizuko finished Jaakuna sucked in a breath, flinching back a little. Jaakuna liked girls. He loved girls! There was plenty to like about the girls in the hero courses: Furora was smart and clever, yet fair and pretty. Runa was quite and brooding like him, with a cool quirk he genuinely admired! Furu was tough and caring, her witt as smart as her combat skills. Jizuko was hard headed yet kind, she was sweet, she let him open up about things he wouldn’t to anyone else. Above all the other girls, Jizuko had his respect. Liking girls should be easy, yet he felt a knot in his stomach, something clenching in his gut...like a weight holding him back. His stupid, stupid traitorous mind flashing with images of soft, curly hair that smelt of too much hairspray. Beautiful ruby eyes. A kind smile, bright enough to rival that of the sun. And a voice, as smooth as honey and as joyful as new lambs in spring calling out ‘Jaakuna!’ Yūrei “...Jaakuna?” Jizuko’s voice was gentle. She stepped closer to reach out for his hand, giving it a careful squeeze God dam it. God fucking damn it. What was wrong with him?? He grit his teeth, wanting the floor to swallow him. His cheeks became warm as, to his shame, hot tears began to blur his vision. He wanted to snarl at her, to curse Jizuko to hell and back, to trap away these stupids thoughts and feelings...but deep down, Jaakuna knew she was right. She had found the chip in his armour, she’d seen right through it, and unraveled the deep, very real truth. “Jaakuna nothing is wrong with you” Jizuko stepped closer and gently grasped his other hand. “Everything is gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, I promise” Jizuko’s eyes shined with kind, comforting light. Jaakuna shyly met her gaze, his tears swelling when she gave him a soft smile...something fell from his eye. A tear, followed by many more - the internal battle surfacing “..I am Jizuko..” “Oh Jaakuna” Jizuko was on him in an instant, tugging her taller friend into a warm hug, nestling his head in her shoulder as she rubbed her arm on his back. Jaakuna’s grasped at her desperately, ashamed to be crying, ashamed Jizuko was seeing him like this, ashamed she’d been right. Ashamed he.. “I like Yūrei..” he whimpered, the rest of his sentence ending in weeps and sobs, as he let himself cry.