#*shrieking while drawing this and kicking and squealing and dancing

[blee-bleep]

When Diana wants cuddles, there's nowhere Akko can hide where Diana won't find her.

i love u sm anon

[tickly-trashcan]

Surprise! {XiaoVen}

A/N: SHEESH i like speedwrote this during school and a bit afterwards LMAO uhh i completely spaced on his birthday until yesterday but i was swamped (last week of school homework lmao) so I had to write it today so it’s kinda cruddy but oh well it’s my kins birthday so i had to do SOMETHING. Hope y’all enjoy! :D

Summary: Venti and Xiao are hanging out at Windrise during Venti’s birthday, and when Venti figures out that Xiao has a surprise for him, how will he get it out of him?

Word Count: 1.2k (under the cut)

“Hey, Xiao~! You know what today is right?”

“Wednesday.”

Venti pouted, but he knew that Xiao actually knew what today was. It was Venti’s birthday, and they were currently spending some time together just outside of Mondstadt at Windrise, where Xiao was collecting crystalflies.

As he collected them he handed them to Venti, and soon his hands were full of little crystal cores. He chuckled, looking at Xiao who was still chasing after one more as Venti sat down at the tree's roots. 

Xiao came back over, last crystalfly in hand as he sat down next to Venti, placing it in the pile that Venti currently held. 

“I always knew you liked crystalflies, but isn’t this a bit excessive?”

Xiao turned his head, biting his lip in mild embarrassment as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I think they’re pretty,” He said softly, and Venti chuckled, setting the crystal cores down and curling up next to Xiao.

“Not nearly as pretty as you, Xiao~”

Xiao playfully shoved Venti off of him with a whine as Venti laughed, immediately clinging back onto Xiao as he whined, cooing at Xiao.

“Xiaooo you can’t be mean to me today! It’s my birthday!”

Xiao pouted and Venti laughed again, wrapping his arms around Xiao’s waist and looking up at him expectantly, making Xiao raise his eyebrow.

“So… what did you get me?”

Xiao immediately looked away from Venti, who grinned deviously as Xiao spoke.

“I… got you some crystalflies. Surely you enjoyed them?”

Venti clicked his tongue, glancing back at the pile of crystal cores that Xiao had collected for him earlier, knowing it wasn’t his birthday gift. Venti yawned, pressing his head into Xiao’s chest as he hummed.

“Xiao~ Are you suuure you don’t have something else~?”

Xiao opened his mouth to speak, but shut it shortly after. Venti chuckled and Xiao started again, speaking this time.

“If you want we can always go to Mondstadt and get something from the tavern… but I don’t have anything planned,” Xiao lied, and Venti hummed, pulling his hand away from Xiao’s waist and placing it on his hip to support himself as he sat up. Xiao flinched, and Venti stopped for a moment before an idea popped into his head and a grin crept up his face.

“Xiao…”

Xiao looked at Venti with wide eyes, knowing immediately what he was up to. He shook his head, and Venti only held Xiao tighter, making sure he wouldn’t be able to wiggle away.

“What do you have planned, dear?”

“I already told you, it’s just the crystalflies, Venti-”

A sharp inhale came from Xiao when Venti squeezed his hip, grinning as Xiao squirmed, giggling softly in anticipation as Venti pinched up his sides to his lower ribs.

“Well if you won’t tell me,” Venti cooed, lightly poking Xiao’s lower ribs as he snickered, trying to control himself as Venti grinned. “I’ll just have to tickle it out of you!”

“Venti, no-!”

Xiao could barely protest when Venti threw himself on him, immediately wiggling his fingers on his ribs, digging in and prodding in a way that he knew would easily draw laughter out from Xiao.

Xiao’s peals of laughter were immediate as he collapsed against the tree’s roots, flailing his arms in an attempt to shove Venti off of him, squirming as he giggled frantically.

“Vehehenti! Wahahahait, not thahahat!”

“Not what? What’s wrong, can you tell me?”

“It t-tihihickles!” Xiao whined and Venti rolled his eyes fondly.

“That’s the point, Xiao,” He chuckled, climbing up his ribs until he nestled his hands under Xiao’s arms, curling his fingers in a way that made Xiao positively squeal as he threw his head back, clamping his arms down in an attempt to nullify the sensations, only trapping Venti’s hands as he clicked his tongue.

“Xiao-Xiao, now I’m stuck!”

“Dohohohon’t call me thahat!” Xiao laughed, squirming frantically as Venti puffed his cheeks, digging his fingers deeper into the hollow of Xiao’s underarm, making him shriek.

“It’s my birthday, I can do what I want! And I want to know what kind of present you have for me!”

“I dohohohon’t!” Xiao wailed, giggling hysterically as Venti sighed, pulling his hands out of Xiao’s underarms and began to lightly trace circles on his tummy, making Xiao jerk before grabbing onto Venti’s wrists, who grinned.

“Venti, dohon’t you dare-”

“Tell me and I might not. But I’m sure you wouldn’t like if I stopped, now would you?”

Xiao flushed red and shoved Venti, making the bard laugh as he clung to Xiao, pinching up the sides of his tummy as Xiao shrieked, dissolving into frantic laughter as he squirmed, kicking his legs behind Venti. Venti chuckled along with Xiao, scratching his lower tummy as Xiao threw his head back, whining.

“Vehehehentiii!”

“Yes, Xiao?”

“Stahahap!”

Venti hummed and shook his head, grinning as he dug into Xiao’s tummy, ditching the light tickles as Xiao squealed, squeezing his eyes shut as he cackled, trying to wiggle away from the evil birthday boy, but to no avail.

“Alrihihight! Vehehenti, no mohohore!”

“Are you gonna tell me what my gift is?!” Venti exclaimed excitedly, and Xiao nodded quickly, overwhelmed by the tickly sensations that were shooting on his every nerve as Venti danced his fingers across his tummy.

The sensations stopped after a few moments, Venti clearly wanting to get in a few extra tickles before halting. Xiao caught his breath for a few minutes, a few stray giggles still escaping his lips as Venti sat on his lap, fidgeting impatiently.

“I-It’s in Mondstadt,” Xiao said, still catching his breath a little bit as Venti jumped up excitedly, much like a little kid as Xiao followed him, heading through the gates of Mondstadt, Xiao staying close to Venti in hopes of avoiding stares from the locals.

They walked into Angel’s Share when Xiao pointed it out, and Venti was greeted with a sudden toss of confetti and a cheer.

“Happy Birthday Venti!”

Venti looked around excitedly as he was greeted by Aether, Lumine, Jean, and Diluc, all standing around Lumine, who held out an apple pie, just for Venti.

Venti turned to Xiao and pointed at him.

“You planned all this for me??”

“I-I had a bit of help from Aether and Lumine…” Xiao said sheepishly, not being familiar with all of Venti’s friends, that it was helpful when Aether and Lumine had offered to help. Venti smiled, throwing his arms around Xiao.

“I’ll get you again later for keeping this from me for so long, my dear Xiao~” He whispered, making Xiao go red and sputter.

“I needed to keep you busy while they set up though,” He protested, but Venti only chuckled as Xiao grumbled, Aether walking over and asking if he had a fever because of how red he was, only further embarrassing him.

“Make a wish, Venti!” Lumine said happily, holding the apple pie up to Venti, a single candle burning in the center of it. Venti blew it out and his friends clapped, Jean cutting into the pie and putting servings out for everyone, giving an extra big slice to Venti, who cheered.

Venti looked back at Xiao, who sat in the corner, silently eating his pie. Venti pulled him to the center of the room happily (also slightly drunk) and made Xiao sing with him as he strummed his lyre, Xiao more mumbling as Venti hollered. Lumine and Aether rolled their eyes as Jean and Diluc clapped supportively despite the performance being far from good. It didn’t matter though, because Venti was having fun, and he was happy to have spent his birthday with all the people that he loved.

[69marleyagainimsosad]

omg tanev makes me omg kicking my feet wiggling my toes twirling my hair giggling out of my vagina tears in my eyes clapping my hands buckling my knees losing my mind screaming at the top of my lungs pulling my hair screaming and shouting gasping running squealing creaming my balls off rolling around on the ground batting my eyes popping my pussy flexing my titis nodding my head stuttering rolling my eyes to the back of my head levitating cheering nutting taking a leap of faith singing gospel pacing back and forth doing summersaults cartwheeling pissing and shitting and sometimes cumming pitter pattering sipping my water while doing backflips hopping on one foot looking through a peep hole posting on reddit hopscotching sprinting faster than sonic punching my balls shaking my asschecks yodeling yelling like a goat being murdered sucking on someone’s fingers nipping at their toes dying my hair going on tumblr and reading smut whispering and crying parachuting singing a beautiful song in the most orgasmic voice you’ve ever heard dancing drooling tippy tapting learning how to limbo doing the splits climbing into my lamborghini tesla mix breed petting my chickens flying an airplane to london gelping being annoyed but then twerking buying frozen yogurt making my bed leaping twirling jump roping laughing my balls off shrieking springing like tigger from winnie the pooh while snickering sending selfies to random people on snap pooping my pants popping a tit sprinting in circles running a mile swimming across the ocean slurping dick drawing a smiley face to represent me rn biting my fingernails curing all diseases because im spinning in circles because i’ve never been more joyous than right now shrieking into a pillow smiling so wide it’s scary blocking howie mandel because i have better things to do than look at his friends booty hole swirling into oblivion squirming leap-frogging hogjsofjeifhissgiwgdiwd-ing moaning and yelping holding my hands praying spitting and sneezing ripping my posters off the wall cackling blushing hiding my face getting a bullseye in darts shaking my head (not in a bad way) doing back and front flips while skydiving and landing on a bridge then jumping into a lake creaming my jeans because becafseisuiwhshehe like damn gravy you so vicious you so clean so delicious because oh my fuck doing parkour singing else will rock you whilst stomping my feet so hard they bleed slamming my hands into the table cracking my knuckles playing crack the egg slutting myself out driving off of the grand canyon punching my mama in the throat karate kicking my daddy in the chest wtf squealing like a baby panting like a dog frothing at the mouth jumping into a trash can knitting a blanket climbing onto my roof i wanna crash my car into a telephone pole with no seatbelt on so i fucking die only to come back from the eat so i can slurp pussy and run up the walls and jump off of new york city rooftops until the cops taze me oh my god #krakentanevaugh

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

matching tattoos

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k (the longest i’ve done in a while whoo 🎉)

"Stevie, I don't think your mom will be too happy with me if I let you do this," Harry said, eying his two year old daughter. She had been asking about it for weeks, but so far he'd been able to distract her before you caught wind of their conversation.

"Pleeeease, daddy?" She pouted, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

"Why don't we have some cookies instead, love?" 

"No." 

"Ummm... oh! I know what we can do! Why don't we go in my studio? You can play the piano, or the guitar, maybe sing a song for me..." He trailed off.

"I want to do this! Please?" 

Harry's heart melted in three seconds flat. How could he say no to her? He tried, he really did. He opened his mouth to say "no, mommy will really kill me, why don't we do something else?" but one glance at her sweet face left him speechless. He couldn't do it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"Alright, we'll do it... but!" He cut himself off, raising his voice slightly to be heard over her excited cheering. "But! We only have two hours til mommy gets home." She nodded eagerly, bouncing on her feet. 

"And if we do this it has to be our secret, mommy can't know. Can you keep this secret?" He said, making a very serious face. 

"Yes!" She squealed, giggling. 

"Pinky promise?" 

She beamed, holding her tiny hand up to his. He wrapped his finger around hers, squeezing for just a second before releasing her. 

"Go get the markers then, we have to work fast!" 

Stevie screamed in excitement, running as fast as her little legs could carry her. He heard her digging around the art room, probably making a huge mess, before he heard a scraping noise on the wood floor. She was pushing a box of markers that was nearly as big as she was, groaning dramatically. 

"It's... too... heavy," she panted.  "Please help!" 

Harry smiled, leaning down to pick up the box. He scooped her up too, settling them both down on the table. 

"Alright, Miss Styles," he said, adapting a posh accent. "This is a proper tattoo parlor, so we shall do this properly, hm?" 

She laughed, kicking her feet. 

"I want the mermaid!" She said, pointing to the ink on his forearm. 

"Patience, Miss Styles," He smiled, wetting a paper towel under the faucet. "First, we have to get your arm ready!" 

She held out her arm, tracing her little fingers over his other tattoos as he wiped her wrist with the cloth. 

"So, the mermaid, hm? You have excellent taste, Miss Stevie," he joked, throwing the towel back to the sink. "What color?" 

"Black, like yours," she said, smiling sweetly. 

He felt his heart squeezing as he reached for a black marker. She was so precious. He would do anything, literally anything, to make her happy. He knew it was probably dangerous, how much power this two year old had over him, but he didn't care. He had been in love with her since the day she was born; since the first time he had looked at her. 

"We can match, look at that!" He said, beginning to draw on her arm. "Did you know that I love you sooooo much?" 

"I love you too, daddy," she giggled. "And that tickles!" 

"Oh, it tickles, does it? Should I stop?" He hovered the marker over her skin, glancing at her teasingly. 

"No!" She yelled. "I want to match you!" 

"Alright then," He said, laughing as he went back to his task. "Why don't we listen to some music?" 

"Yeah!" 

"What should we listen to?" 

"Your song, the fire!" 

"The fire?" Harry looked up, confused. "None of my songs have fire in them, bug." 

"Yes," she said stubbornly. "And the fish!" 

Harry thought for a second before it clicked. "Do you mean Adore You?" 

"That one!" 

"You're right," He laughed. "That one does talk about fire. I'll get it, yeah?" 

He set down the marker, picking up his phone. After a minute, she was dancing in her seat to the drums of Adore You. When the chorus came on, she sang "walk through fire for you" while looking at Harry triumphantly. 

"Did you know this song is about mommy?" He said, focusing on his drawing. 

"Really?" She asked incredulously, eyes wide. 

"Really! It's about how much I love her." 

"Yucky," She said, scrunching her nose.

  "Yucky? That's not yucky!" he exclaimed. "It's nice!" 

Stevie hummed, kicking her feet along with the music.

   "It's yucky." 

"Stevie, you're hurting my feelings!" He said, gasping and clutching his chest dramatically. "I can't go on," he sighed, throwing his other arm over his forehead. "I'm sorry, daddy," She giggled, reaching up to pull his arm back to her. "Keep going!" 

He smiled, adding the finishing touches to her drawing.

"And... there we go! One mermaid, just for you." 

She beamed, holding her arm next to his to compare. 

"Daddy... your mermaid has no clothes. She needs some." 

"How about you draw her a shirt?" Harry laughed, handing her the marker. She furrowed her brow, focusing intently on her task. 

"Good job staying in the lines, love!" He said, ignoring the scribbles around the outline. "And you were right, it does tickle." 

"I know!" She laughed, giving the marker back. 

"What now?" 

"The... the heart!" She said, pointing the the small filled in shape on his upper arm. 

"Sure, that's an easy one." 

He proceeded to give her at least ten more matching "tattoos", including a cross, an anchor, a poorly drawn rose, and the green bay packers logo. 

"Daddy!" She gasped. "I have a idea!" 

"What's your idea, princess?" 

"The butterfly! On my belly!" 

"You want a butterfly on your belly?" He asked, lifting his shirt to show her his. "Like this?" 

"Yes!" She clapped. "Like that!" 

They were having the time of their lives, drawing and singing as loud as they could to all of Harry's songs. He loved watching her face every time he finished drawing. Her eyes would light up and she would pull his arm to hers, showing him how they matched. Every time a new song came on she would squeal and kick her legs because "it's my favorite song!" 

They had just finished making silly noises together at the end of "Sunflower" when Harry heard a noise. He froze with the marker on her arm, looking up quickly. 

He reached over to pause the music, holding a finger to his lips when she whined at him. He glanced at the clock, hoping he was just imagining things. You weren't supposed to be home for another hour. But no, that was definitely the sound of the front door opening, followed by your voice calling out a greeting. 

"Mommy!" Stevie shrieked, launching herself off the table. 

"No!" Harry hissed, grabbing her before she could run off. "Stevie, we have to wash this off!" 

He scooped her up, running up the stairs to the bathroom. 

"Harry?" You called out. That was weird. You could have sworn you heard them in the kitchen. "Stevie?" 

"We're- we're upstairs, love!" Harry yelled back. "Just cleaning up!" 

Cleaning what? You wondered, but didn't dwell on it for too long. It had rained recently, so they had probably gotten muddy outside. 

You made your way to the kitchen with the grocery bags, beginning to put everything away. Then you saw the box of markers. You narrowed your eyes, confused when you realized there was no paper around. What had they been drawing on? 

Up in the bathroom, Harry was starting to panic. He had set Stevie up on the counter while he was rubbing at the ink with a washcloth. 

"It's not coming off! Why isn't it coming off? The box said washable!" 

"No, don't take my mermaid!" She cried, pushing his hands away. 

"Stevie, love, I'm sorry, but we can't let mommy see these. Remember? They're secret tattoos." 

"Mommy will like them! They're nice," She pouted. 

"No, I don't think she will," Harry said, laughing nervously. "Maybe if we..." he grabbed the bottle of soap, dumping some onto the cloth. "There we are! Whew," he sighed in relief. "Good thing that worked, or daddy might have been sleeping on the couch tonight." 

Just as he was lifting her off the counter, he heard a knock at the door.

  "Harry? What are you doing in there?" 

He swung open the door, smiling charmingly. 

"Just a little cleanup! We... spilled some yogurt. Right Stevie?" 

She nodded, looking up at you innocently. 

"Ok... why were there markers all over the table, but no paper to use them on?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Uh... we were going to color, but then... the... yogurt explosion..." 

"Oh, I see," you said, still suspicious. "Stevie," you said, kneeling down to be at her eye level. "Is daddy telling the truth?" 

Harry held his breath. Stevie was notoriously bad at lying. Usually, Harry was thankful for this, but right now he could do with a little fib.

"Yes mommy, yogurt went everywhere," she said, eyes going wide as she mimicked an explosion with her hands.

You smiled, straightening up. 

"Well, I'm glad you got it cleaned up. I'm going to go put the rest of the groceries away." 

Harry exhaled as you got to the bottom of the stairs. He quickly lifted Stevie up, spinning her around. 

"Thank you, Stevie. You're such a sweetie," He said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She giggled, wiping her face and wiggling in his arms.

"Let's go see what mom bought us!" He said, bouncing her as they ran downstairs. 

Harry thought he was in the clear. He really did. He had managed to scrub off all traces of the marker, including the scribbles drawn over his own mermaid. Luckily, Stevie was true to her pinky promise and didn't say a word. She told you about how they played outside and what books they read, but said nothing about the makeshift tattoos. She was good at being sneaky.

By the time Stevie was yawning, Harry really though everything was fine. When you went to change her into her pajamas, he settled into the couch to find a movie. 

Everything is fine, he thought. You had no id-

"Harry!" You yelled from down the hall. 

He hopped up from his seat, rushing to Stevie's room. 

"What is it?" 

"Harry," you said, turning towards him slowly. "Why does our daughter have a huge butterfly drawn on her tummy?" 

So close.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH17

The queen has arrived ;)

Previous     First    Next     AO3

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Chapter 17: Kings and Queens

“Look out!” Chloe shoved Marinette out of the way of a red beam of light. Her knees buckled, and Marinette scrambled to catch her.

“What a shame. I missed.” Black boots climbed long legs, kissing the hems of a ripped dress at the top. A dark tiara crowned flowing red curls, framing the dark green eyes glaring at them from behind a black mask.

“Gabrielle?” Marinette gasped.

“I go by Heiress now, but don’t worry, Marinette, your stupidity has bought you a free pass. I just wanted to make sure my powers were working, and it looks like they do.” She nodded to the girl coming to in Marinette’s arms before strutting off.

Chloe sat up with a groan, rubbing her head. “Ugh, what was that?”

“Chloe, your-” Marinette clamped a hand over her mouth.

Her once shiny hair hung dull and stringy at her shoulders, now resembling straw more than soft silk. Perfectly manicured nails had shriveled into dirty stubs, and her Gabriel-original dress was replaced with a knock-off.

“What?” Chloe’s shoulders heaved, escalating until a shrill scream echoed through the hall.

“You saved me—I think.” Marinette winced. “It looks like Heiress’s power made you-”

“Poor!” Chloe screeched. “Oh, Ladybug better get here soon and fix this! If I see that akuma, I’ll teach her to put me in off-brands!”

“Wait, you saved me. You saved me!” Marinette realized. “Aw, you do miss me.”

“No, I don’t!” Chloe’s cheeks flushed. “I didn’t even know what was happening. I just reacted, okay?”

“Please, you don’t have a selfless bone in your body. You saved me because you miss me,” Marinette said.

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”  At Marinette’s smug grin, Chloe folded her arms over her chest with a huff. “Whatever. I’m going after that akuma to give her a piece of my mind. You can go get help or… go buy some shoes that aren’t awful!”

“I don’t think you’re one to talk about awful shoes right now.” Marinette pointed to the ratty sneakers on Chloe’s feet.

“Just go,” Chloe said through clenched teeth.

Marinette raced up the hall, a smile tugging the corners of her lips. She hated to admit it, but in a weird way, she did miss Chloe Bourgeois. Wow. She never thought she’d say that.

“You’re changing a lot of mean girls today.” Tikki remarked when Marinette ducked into a closet. “I think that was Chloe’s way of protecting you.”

“I’m not holding my breath. She probably had too much wine,” Marinette said. “But never mind that. Transform me!”

Ladybug sprinted back up the hall, palming her yoyo in one hand. She should have known Gabrielle would get akumatized once her secret got out, but now wasn’t the time to play blame games. There was an akuma to catch.

Rounding the corner, she collided with another person, scrambling to catch their hand before they both fell backward. “Sorry!” she gasped, but when gorgeous green eyes locked with hers, her heart took off into a sprint.

“Ladybug?” Adrien blinked in surprise. “What’s going on?”

Why did she have to find him now? Even if she defeated the akuma quickly, she needed to be there for Gabrielle. Lisette would have to help her look cute for him another time.

“There’s an akuma on the loose. You should find somewhere to hide,” she said.

“Right.” He flicked his gaze down to their hands, still twined.

Ladybug let go, cheeks burning. “Um, stay safe, okay?”

“Good luck, Ladybug,” he said before running the other way up the hall.

She watched him go with a longing sigh. What she wouldn’t give to be a normal girl right now. Then they could snuggle up and hide together, and maybe he’d finally kiss her. They could get married, buy a house, and-

She patted her cheeks to snap herself out of her trance. There was no time for that now. Akuma first, then Gabrielle, Adrien later.

Terrified shrieks signaled that Heiress had found the rest of the party. Thomas was the one who outed her, so he was likely Heiress’s first target. Ladybug needed to get to him first, even if he was one of the skeeviest people she’d ever met. It wasn’t her job to pick who needed saving. Why did she have to be such a good person?

Bursting into the dining room, she skidded to a stop as Heiress zapped Thomas before she could even draw her yoyo.

“No!”

The tall boy transformed in front of her. Perfectly combed brown hair shriveled into shaggy clumps, and a once flawless complexion broke out in angry, red zits. Stylish clothes turned to tattered rags as Thomas became a shell of his former glory. He scurried away from Heiress with a squeal, and she turned to Ladybug with a triumphant smirk.

“Too slow,” Heiress said, “but don’t worry. Now I have plenty of time for you.”

Ladybug dodged the red beam. She might have been too late to save Thomas, but there was still time to save Gabrielle. This battle was far from over. She just needed to focus.

“I know you think there isn’t a way out of your situation, but teaming up with Hawkmoth isn’t the answer!” Ladybug pleaded.

“Please, I’ve lived among these people long enough to know that they don’t appreciate what they have. I know I didn’t…” Heiress lowered her gaze, jaw clenched. “My family lost everything, but now I can take it all back!”

Ladybug flipped out of the way of several blasts, taking the time to examine her opponent closely. The barcode scanner shot red beams of light that stripped its victims of their fancy clothes, jewelry, devices—anything expensive. Gabrielle wanted everyone to feel the pain of losing everything, so she was taking all of their wealth for herself.

A metal baton struck Heiress’s hand, skewing her next shot, and a black-clad feline cast his partner a smirk. “Having a party without me? I’m insulted.”

“Your invitation must have gotten lost in the mail,” Ladybug said. “You and I both know it’s not a party without your sweet dance moves, kitty. Care to show us how it’s done?”

“It would be my pleasure, LB.” Chat Noir winked.

Heiress pointed her scanner at him. “I wonder how much that cat suit is worth.”

Chat Noir dodged her attack easily. “This cat’s style is one-of-a-kind. All the money in the world can’t buy this swagger.”

“We’ll see about that,” Heiress growled.

The heroes took turns charging in, dodging and weaving around beams from her scanner. Ladybug hooked her yoyo around Heiress’s legs, swinging her around into the China hutch. Realizing she was outmatched, Heiress retreated to the living room where more party guests were hiding, but Ladybug and Chat Noir were hot on her trail.

“Run!” Ladybug ordered, and terrified teens scattered.

Heiress ducked out of the way of Chat’s baton, scanning anyone who passed her between blows. Lisette’s older brother raced from behind the couch, and Heiress wasted no time scanning him before he reached the door. She caught Chat Noir’s staff on the next swing, a grin curling on her lips.

“Looks like someone’s watch was worth a lot. I wonder how much this costs?” She scanned Chat Noir’s baton, leaving him with a plastic copy.

“Hey!” Chat Noir gasped.

Ladybug snagged her yoyo around Heiress’s wrist before she could scan him, but Heiress kicked him through the large window with one long leg instead. Before Ladybug could react, Heiress gripped the string of the yoyo and spun her out after him.

Chat Noir braced as she landed on top of him in the bush, her yoyo bouncing onto the grass beside them. They rolled over with groans, untangling their limbs, and Ladybug grasped for her yoyo.  

“Everything she scans makes her stronger depending on its worth. We need to think of a plan,” she said.

“I’m all ears, Bug.” Ladybug eyed him. “What?”

“You haven’t called me m’lady or Bugaboo all evening. I think it’s a new record for you.” She flicked his bell with a smirk.

“Well, I- you hate it when I call you that,” he said pointedly, cheeks flushed.

“That’s never stopped you before. Has another lady finally stolen your heart?” she giggled.

“I-”

“Ladybug!” Chloe shouted. “What are you two doing out here? The akuma is turning more people into dried up peasants. Have you seen what she did to my hair? Bring me my Miraculous, so I can beat some sense into her!”

“Chloe, this isn’t the time for revenge.” Ladybug sighed.

“I’m not out for revenge,” Chloe said matter-of-factly. “The faster we defeat the akuma, the faster I go back to looking fabulous. So bring me my Miraculous, and let me help you, please?” Chloe pressed her palms together, and Ladybug pursed her lips.

Chloe was right. They needed to defeat the akuma quickly and save Gabrielle, but did she really want to give Chloe her Miraculous back? With her identity blown, Chloe was in even more danger every time she became Queen Bee. Not to mention trusting Chloe in general was risky, but after she sacrificed herself for Marinette earlier…

Something was different about Chloe. Sure was still the same bratty, primadonna, but her blue eyes were steadfast and sincere. Ladybug once believed that giving Chloe a Miraculous would help her be better, and part of her still believed that.

There was only one way to settle this.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug caught the record as it manifested and turned it over in her hands.

“Now isn’t the time to practice your DJing.” Chloe scoffed.

Ladybug glanced between Chat Noir, Chloe, the plants surrounding them, but nothing stood out. A record. What was she supposed to do with a record? Unless…

“I have to go. Chat Noir, keep an eye on Heiress until I get back, but be careful. I don’t want you getting scanned. We don’t know what will happen to our powers if she scans one of us,” Ladybug said.

“Got it.”

“Are you going to bring me my Miraculous?” Chloe perked up.

“Do you promise not to do anything reckless while I’m gone?” Ladybug asked.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes! I promise, Ladybug.” Chloe bounced excitedly, then cocking a hip added, “But hurry up! These shoes make me physically ill.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes and dashed up the lawn, leaping through the very same garden she and Adrien had walked through an hour before. The mansion was far from Master Fu’s apartment, but her yoyo made short work of the trip. Her mentor was enjoying his bedtime tea when she entered, sitting cross-legged on the mat with Wayzz on his shoulder.

“Master, there’s an akuma, and I think my lucky charm wanted me to come here.” Marinette flicked her gaze to the phonograph resting on the chest in the back.

“Then there is no time to waste,” Master Fu said. He set his tea aside and retrieved the Miracle Box from its hiding place. “Who do you have in mind?”

Marinette surveyed her options with pursed lips, then resigned herself and reached for the bee. Chloe was different tonight, and if they were going to stop Heiress, they needed an ally they could count on. Never in her life did she picture that to be Chloe, but given the present circumstances, she didn’t have any other options.

“Are you sure, Marinette? Choosing her is risky.” Master Fu cautioned.

“It’s a long story, but…” Marinette smiled. “I’m sure.”

“Then best of luck.”

When Marinette changed schools, she intended to leave everyone behind and start over, but the most unlikely people had found their way back to her. Adrien took her by the hand and refused to let go. Chloe begrudgingly kept one foot in the door, constantly threatening to close it for good, but something told Marinette she never would.

To Ladybug’s surprise, Chloe actually listened to her instructions to stay out of trouble. When Ladybug found her, she was dutifully ushering other raggedly dressed teens out to the garden. She really could behave when she wanted to.

Chloe spotted her on the balcony, and when Ladybug waved the small box, Chloe raced up the stairs faster than she’d ever run in gym class. She held out her hands expectantly, but Ladybug held up a finger.

“I’m trusting you this time, Chloe, but you don’t need a Miraculous to be a hero, ya know. You can be nicer to those around you all the time,” Ladybug said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Chloe groaned. “Can I have my Miraculous now?”

“Do you promise to be nicer to people?”

Chloe’s cheeks flushed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Alright, fine.”

Ladybug tossed her the box, and Chloe ripped it open, completely unfazed as Pollen materialized. She fastened the comb into her hair and smiled. “Pollen, transform me!”

Ladybug didn’t wait for Queen Bee’s transformation to finish before they hit the ground running. Chat Noir had been holding Heiress back on his own, and it was time to bring him some backup.

The two heroines kicked in the front door, leaping straight into action. Ladybug shielded Chat Noir with her yoyo while Queen Bee snagged Heiress’s leg with her spinner and tossed her through the door to the living room.

“You sure kept me waiting,” Chat Noir said.

“It was kind of a long trip, but I thought we could use some help,” Ladybug said as Queen Bee fluffed her ponytail.

“Let’s show this wannabe who the real queen is.” Queen Bee readied her spinner.

“So, what’s the plan?” Chat Noir asked.

“If Queen Bee can sting Heiress with her Venom, then you can Cataclysm her scanner. Avoid getting hit at all costs. There’s no telling how powerful a Miraculous will make her,” Ladybug said.

Heiress was kicking debris from the cabinet she’d crashed into when the heroes found her. They didn’t waste time as she righted herself, taking turns charging in. With a growl of frustration, Heiress flipped back into the foyer, scanning the crystal chandelier in the process. Ladybug’s yoyo wasn’t far behind, snagging her wrist again. Queen Bee bound her legs with her spinning top, but Heiress absorbed enough power from the chandelier to break the stone fountain beside her. Tossing a large chunk at Queen Bee, Heiress freed her legs, using her free arm to sling Ladybug into the staircase. Chat Noir grappled with Heiress while his partners recovered, but Heiress parried his blows easily before taking his wrist and tossing him across the foyer.

Ladybug sat up with a wince, rubbing her back where it had collided with the smooth marble. Her yoyo had bounced to the base of the stairs, too far for her to reach as Heiress closed in. She braced as Heiress raised her scanner, but a flash of yellow shot across the foyer.

“No!” Queen Bee leaped between Ladybug and the red beam.

Vibrant yellows dulled, long golden curls shriveling to dried husks. The bee comb in her hair lost its shine, transforming into a powerless, plastic barrette. Queen Bee collapsed at Ladybug’s feet.

“A noble sacrifice, but even your Miraculous has given me enough power to end this fight quickly,” Heiress said.

“Cataclysm!”

Heiress turned as Chat Noir slid past her, dragging his claws across the tile. The ground crumbled and gave out under his touch, plunging Heiress into the wine cellar below. He raced over to Ladybug, kneeling beside Queen Bee as she sat up.

“She really saved your skin, LB,” he said.

“She saved all of us,” Ladybug corrected. “That was really selfless of you, Queen Bee. Thank you.”

“If she hit you, then things would never go back to normal.” Queen Bee took Ladybug’s hand, pressing the yoyo to her palm. “You’re the only one who can fix all of this, so don’t you dare let me getting hit by that freak twice be for nothing.”

Ladybug nodded, gripping her yoyo tightly before issuing the call, “Lucky Charm!” She caught the small black card as it materialized, turning it over in her hands. “A credit card?”

“Well, she’s certainly got enough money to take you shopping,” Chat Noir remarked.

Ladybug pursed her lips, flicking her gaze around the room. With Chat Noir’s belt, her yoyo, the credit card, and Queen Bee…

“I know what to do. Chat Noir, I need you to lure her into the dining room and be ready to use your belt,” she instructed. “Queen Bee, come with me.”

“But I don’t have any powers.”

Ladybug offered her a smile and pulled her to her feet. “Remember what I told you. You don’t need superpowers to be a hero. Trust me.”

Queen Bee searched her expression, then smiled, and the two heroines retreated up the hall.

“So, what’s the plan?” Queen Bee asked as they entered the dining room.

“How fast can you swipe a credit card?” Ladybug turned to her, and Queen Bee cocked a hip.

“Please, I can swipe one faster than my daddy can realize how much money I’m spending,” she said. “Why?”

“Chat Noir and I are going to subdue Heiress, but we need you to swipe this across her scanner. It’s maxed out, so it’s basically worthless. With any luck, it will short-circuit her powers long enough to get the scanner away from her,” Ladybug explained. She placed the card in Queen Bee’s hands. “I’m counting on you.”

Queen Bee squared her shoulders with a nod. “Okay, Ladybug!”

Footsteps pounded in the hallway, growing closer, and Ladybug signaled Queen Bee to her position. When Chat Noir burst through the door, he removed his belt as Ladybug readied her yoyo. Heiress was hot on his trail, and the two heroes engaged her the moment she stepped through the door.

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug called.

He slid across the floor on his knees, looping his belt around Heiress’s legs and pulling tight. Ladybug lassoed her torso with her yoyo, immobilizing her limbs. Queen Bee slid in, swiping the credit card across the scanner with practiced precision.

Heiress shook them off, but when she raised her arm to scan Chat Noir, no red beams flashed.

“What?” She banged it against her palm.

“Oops, looks like I’ve hit my limit,” Queen Bee said.

Chat Noir kicked the scanner from her grasp, and Ladybug snagged it from the air with her yoyo, slamming it against the ground. The casing shattered, and the black butterfly fluttered free.

“No more evil-doing for you, little akuma. Time to deevilize!” she recited. Queen Bee handed her the credit card, and Ladybug tossed it into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Her magic spread around the mansion, repairing broken cabinets and missing objects, and most importantly, everyone’s fancy clothes. Chat Noir kissed his baton as it reappeared in his hands. Queen Bee twirled in delight as her Miraculous regained its power.

Gabrielle stood up, averting her gaze. Ladybug approached her, but before she could get close, Gabrielle stalked from the room. A speech from Ladybug wasn’t what she needed—Gabrielle needed a friend.

“It feels so good to be fabulous again,” Queen Bee said with a contented sigh.

“Thanks for your help. You can be really selfless when you want to be,” Ladybug said. “Imagine how much of a difference you could make if you were nice all the time.”

Queen Bee’s cheeks flushed. “Okay, okay, whatever!” She flipped her ponytail over one shoulder. “I’ll think about it.”

Chat Noir joined in, and the three touched their fists together.

“Pound it!”

“Well, I hope this is a lesson to Hawkmoth. If an akuma ever ruins my hair again, he’ll have Queen Bee to deal with.” Chloe removed the comb from her hair and handed it back to Ladybug. She headed for the door with her head high but paused with her hand on the frame. “Thanks, Ladybug. For trusting me.”

Ladybug smiled as she sauntered off, turning to Chat Noir. “Thanks for your help, kitty.”

“We’re partners, aren’t we? I can’t let you have all the fun,” he said, shifting when Ladybug pursed her lips at him. “What?”

“Are you okay? You’re quiet today. Usually, you talk my ear off,” she said.

He eyed her with a pensive frown and shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’ll see you next time.”

He raced off without kissing her hand or even a parting flirtatious remark on how beautiful her hair looked in the light. Something was off about him, but she couldn’t place her finger on what. This wasn’t one of his usual pouts when she refused to go on a date with him, and it had been a while since he’d even asked for one. Was he finally moving on from her?

Ladybug shook her head to clear it. There was no time to worry about him. She needed to find Gabrielle.

♪♫♪ Old Scars/Future Hearts ♪♫♪

 “Gabrielle!” Marinette skipped down the stairs.

The red-head slumping for the front doors turned over her shoulder with a scowl, but her face softened when she saw Marinette—slightly. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Thomas told everyone about your family, then you got akumatized,” Marinette said.

“Ugh, you’re such a goody-two-shoes.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t be seen with me. If they catch you being nice, they’ll throw you under the bus just as quickly as they did me. Trust me, it’s better if you just ignore me from now on.”

“But what about you?” Marinette asked.

“What about me?” Gabrielle grunted. “I’m done. Now that everyone knows my family’s out of money, I’m the school laughingstock. As far as they’re concerned, I deserve it. Don’t waste your time on me. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

Marinette remained quiet, eyebrows knitting together before she finally muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? It’s not like you spent all of our money,” Gabrielle said.

“Yeah, but I know it must be hard for you.”

“Why do you care?” Gabrielle asked. “It’s not like I’ve been nice to you. I dragged you here against your will, then wouldn’t even let you socialize with me. You shouldn’t care about me.”

“Well, you don’t know me very well,” Marinette said, “but you could. We could be friends if you wanted.”

Gabrielle opened her mouth as if to say something, then shook her head, red curls bouncing against her shoulders. “No. I don’t think we could be. Even if I wanted to be your friend, it’s social suicide for you.”

When Marinette frowned, Gabrielle rolled her eyes and added, “Look, forget about me, okay? Forget any of this ever happened. We’re not friends, and we never will be. Just leave me alone!”

Marinette watched her climb into her town car, a sinking feeling weighing her stomach. Gabrielle was right. She shouldn’t care. But she did. Maybe she was just a goody-two-shoes, but Marinette had seen a more vulnerable side of Gabrielle—one that she likely didn’t show many people. After everything, Marinette truly believed that Gabrielle Burton wasn’t a bad person. She just needed someone to show her how to be good.

“Marinette?” She turned to find Adrien approaching from the living room.

“Hey,” she said lamely. Because what did one say to the love of their life after an almost-kiss in the garden?  

“I saw you talking to that girl, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” Adrien said. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but isn’t that the girl who was picking on your friend the other day?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, and when Adrien tilted his head to the side, she added, “it’s kind of complicated.”

“Right,” he said. “So, I guess you need a ride home then?”

“What?”

“Earlier you said that girl brought you here, and now she left, so we can take you home if you want.” Adrien offered. Was it possible for him to be any more dreamy?

“Oh… I guess, I do need a ride. Thank you,” she said. And maybe they could pick up where they left off in the garden. Did she dare even think about it? But what if he tried to kiss her again? Oh, the stories they could tell their kids one day.

“Hey!” Chloe called from the base of the stairs.

Oh, right. Chloe.

“Didn’t I separate you two earlier?” she growled.

“Marinette needs a ride home,” Adrien said, and Chloe cocked a hip.

“She’s got legs.”

“Chloe.” Adrien scolded. “She’s riding with us.”

“No.” Chloe whined, but after a stern look from Adrien, she sighed. “Fine, but we’re dropping her off first. I don’t want to be stuck in a car with her for any longer than I have to be.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Marinette said.

“I’m only doing this because Ladybug told me to be nicer to people, so I can still be Queen Bee. Don’t think for a second it’s because I like you.” Chloe retorted.

“Don’t worry. I’d never imagine that you like me.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “I haven’t missed you.”

“Well, I haven’t missed you either!”

“Maybe you two just shouldn’t talk on the ride home.” Adrien suggested gently.

“Fine, I don’t want to talk to Dupain-Cheng anyway.” Chloe flipped her ponytail over one shoulder. “You and I can have glowing conversation, Adrikins.”

“Why do you get to talk to Adrien?”

“Because I’ve known him the longest, so ha!” Chloe stuck her tongue out.

Adrien sighed and fell into step alongside Marinette. “Sorry, I know it’s not ideal, but it beats walking.”

“It’s fine. I don’t get to argue with her much anymore, so this is filling up my quota.” Marinette shrugged.

As Adrien reached to open the door for her, another voice called out from the front door. “Leaving already?”

Marinette’s spine stiffened, and she spun around to see Thomas pacing down the front steps like a predator stalking his prey; however, he wasn’t approaching her.

“I saw you fighting that akuma with Ladybug earlier. Being a superhero is pretty cool, huh?” He looked Chloe up and down. “You’re the mayor’s daughter, right?”

Chloe eyed him with disinterest, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “Didn’t Dupain-Cheng turn you down earlier?”

“Well, she and I didn’t exactly hit it off-” Chloe held up a hand to silence him.

“Save it,” she said. “I’m not anyone’s second-choice, and I’m sure as heck not taking home Dupain-Cheng’s scraps. Buzz off, loser.”

Marinette hated to admit it, but she was actually proud of Chloe. Thomas was sleazy, arrogant, and greedy—just her type. Maybe Chloe really had changed.

“Absolutely not. Move over.” Chloe wedged her way between Adrien and Marinette on the seat.

And maybe she hadn’t.

[simplee-dreaming]

Airplane

A/N: Thank you to the anon who gave me this prompt! I couldn't write the little sister in the perspective of the reader so I hope it's okay making her a separate character!x

Summary: Steve's little sister throws a strop when Bucky won't play with her.

Word Count: 919

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

“Weeeeee!” Ruth giggled out as she soared around the room. Bucky was holding her up high and spinning her round like an airplane.

“Commencing landing sequence.” Bucky said in a robotic tone. He jolted his arms so she bounced up and down as he lowered her. She kept giggling as he placed her gently on the sofa. She hopped off and ran round to him.

“Again again again!” She chanted. He laughed.

“You’ve flown 11 times today already, don’t you think that’s enough?” He chuckled.

“Nooooo I want to go again….pweaseeeeee” She pleaded with her big eyes.

“No more Ruth, Uncle Buck’s tired now. How about we have a little dance? You can hop onto my feet if you want!” He tried to compromise with her. Ruth pouted.

“Airplane.” She demanded.

“I promise we can airplane again later on when my energy is back, Uncle Buck is an old man, remember!” He said, trying to make her laugh. She pouted again and sat down on the sofa.

“What have you done now?” Steve teased Bucky as he entered the room.

“Uncle Buck won’t airplane me.” Ruth sulked, folding her arms. Steve chuckled softly.

“Why won’t you airplane her?” He asked Bucky nicely.

“I have 11 times already, it’s just I’m a little tired now. I’ve promised I will again tonight once I regain my strength!” Bucky informed Steve. Steve turned to Ruth and knelt down in front of her.

“Now you, Uncle Buck promised he will later. So why are you upset?”

“I want airplane now.” She sulked.

“And what have I told you before? I want…” He started. She sighed.

“Doesn’t get.” She mumbled out.

“Good girl. Now come on, I’m sure there are lots of fun things we can do together! We could play Peggity or play with some of your dolls or...ooh I know! We could do some drawings with your new crayons!” Steve said, excitedly. Ruth looked down and shrugged.

“Come on darling, don’t be like that. We can still have fun!” Steve said. She didn’t respond.

“Ruth sweetheart, I hope I haven’t upset you. I just got tired after a while. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to play with you still!” Bucky chimed in, hoping to cheer her up. He didn’t get a response either. He looked at Steve for help and Steve thought for a moment before a smile crept onto his face.

“Hey Ruthie, I know something that will cheer you up…” He sang. Still no response. He lifted up his hand and tickled gently under her chin. She instantly recoiled and giggled.

“Steheheve,” She giggled as he kept tickling her.

“Are you gonna cheer up now?” He asked, she shook her head.

“Hm. Alright then.” With one swift motion he sat on the sofa and scooped her up into his arms.

“You better cheer up now or this tummy is going to get it…” He teased. She squealed and grabbed hold of her dress, trying to cover her tummy.

“Nohoho” She giggled.

“No? No?!” He asked, raising his eyebrows at her before shaking his head.

“Right, well then, looks like this poor tummy is going to suffer the consequences.” He said before bowing his head and nuzzling into her tummy. She instantly shrieked and tried to protect herself but her little arms were no match for Steve’s head, who was now nomming loudly on her tummy. She squealed and giggled and kicked her little legs out.

“STEHEHEHEHEVE NOHOHO HAHAHAHA” She cried. He switched between nuzzling into her tummy and blowing multiple raspberries. He placed her gently on his lap and started spidering one hand over her tummy.

“STEHEHEHEHEVE” She screamed. Steve laughed along with her but briefly stopped to let her breathe.

“Are you cheered up now?” He asked. She giggled and shook her head, a cheeky grin appearing on her face.

“Still no?!” He boomed out. “Right, this calls for backup. Uncle Buck, if you please.” Steve said turning to Bucky. Bucky laughed and approached the pair. He sat down next to Steve and grabbed hold of her feet.

“Nohoho Uncle Buhuhuck” she giggled. Bucky had a habit of tickling her feet because he knew it made her laugh the most. He gently gripped one foot and played “this little piggy” with her toes. Ruth instantly squealed and kicked with her other foot.

“Excuse me miss, I’m trying to tell you a story about the piggys. Do you mind not interrupting me.” Bucky teased, starting the nursery rhyme from the beginning again. She giggled and squealed as he gently tickled each toe but before he got to the end she accidentally kicked him again. He stopped and slowly turned to her.

“Oh now you’re in trouble.” Bucky said sternly before scribbling his fingers over both of her soles. Ruth shrieked and laughed even louder. She started flailing her arms until Steve grabbed one and held it up so he could wiggle a finger into her armpit. She shrieked again and tried to twist away from him.

“HAHAHAHAHAPPY I’M HAHAHAHAPPY!” She screamed out, laughing loudly. They both stopped tickling her and Steve cuddled her close.

“So you’re cheered up now?” He asked. She giggled out a yes.

“Good because I think I have my energy back!” Bucky said. He jumped up from the sofa and picked her up. She cheered as he turned her back into an airplane and continued to fly her around the room. Steve watched in awe as his best friend played with his little sister.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Makayla Part Three

Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 2149

Part One; Part Two

Summary: Tensions are high in the bunker as you make a plan of attack against the vampires. Sam tries to make up for lost time. Everyone bonds with the newest Winchester. 

Notes: Okay, writing Sam trying to figure out how to be a dad is sooooo fun. Also, Uncle Dean is possibly my favorite thing ever. I hope you guys enjoy part three to this series! I’m having a blast!

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

“Mom!” You woke up to the sound of your daughter screaming. “Mommy!” Makayla was kicking at the blankets, her little fists swinging at some invisible monster. Another nightmare. You grabbed her and pulled her into your arms. 

“It’s okay, baby. Wake up. I’ve got you.” You rocked her back and forth until her eyes opened, fat tears spilling onto her cheeks. “You’re alright, Kayla.”

“It was the monsters again. The shadow man.” 

“He isn’t here, baby.” You ran your fingers through her hair. “He can’t hurt you.” Your door flew open and Dean and Sam rushed in, Mary peaked out behind them. 

“What is it? Did it hurt you?” Sam rushed to the bed while Dean checked every corner, both holding their pistols. Mary even had a machete at the ready. 

“It’s okay, guys. She just had a bad dream.” You explained, groggily getting out of bed with Kayla still trembling in your arms. “Do you guys have any milk? That usually helps her calm down.” Sam thought for a moment, but Dean responded quickly. 

“Chocolate or white?” Sam turned and gave him a strange look. “What? That stuff is the nectar of the gods, Sammy.” Sam shook his head. 

“I can’t believe you're older than me.” 

“C-can I have chocolate milk, daddy?” Kayla sniffed.

“See, the kid gets it.” Dean scoffed. Mary smacked his arm. Sam was still processing being called dad. 

“Come on, I’ll take you to the kitchen.” Sam held out his arms to take her and you hesitated. Then you remembered that you had been doing this for four years and he had missed all of it. You tried to give him a peace making smile, but he ignored you. Makayla buried her face in his shoulder, trying to hide her tears like a tough girl. Sam sat her down and went over to the fridge, finding the chocolate milk hidden behind a case of beers. 

“I woke everybody up.” Makayla cried, covering her face with her small hands. Sam poured the milk and hurried back over to her. 

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He soothed, gently pulling her hands away. “Here, have some of this.” He held up the glass of milk to her lips and she drank slowly, her tears eventually stopping. “Better?” She nodded slightly. Sam pulled up a chair beside her, setting the now half empty cup on the table. 

“I bet you never get scared.” Makayla looked at him, her big blue-green eyes filled with awe. Her eyes looked like his. Sam smiled. 

“I get scared all the time.” 

“Really?” She gasped. 

“Oh yeah. In fact, I have nightmares too.” Her mouth fell open and Sam continued, his tone sweet and caring. “I used to be really scared of my nightmares, but you know what I did?” She leaned forward excitedly. “I told myself that I can face anything as long as I remember that I’m not alone. So the next time that you get scared by the…”

“The shadow man.” She shivered. 

“Okay, the next time you get shared by the shadow man, you just remember that you’ve got me and your mom and your Uncle Dean and Grandma Mary. You’ve even got an angel on your side.” Her eyes widened.

“An angel?” Sam couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement. 

“That’s right, sweetie, Uncle Cas is like your guardian uncle.” Cas could barely guard himself most of the time, but she didn’t need to know that. “You can always fight your fears when you remember that you are never alone.” She hugged his arm, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. 

“My mom is right.” She beamed. “You are a hero.” And just like that, Sam Winchester’s heart melted and not just for the little girl clinging to him. Yup… he was in trouble.

-

Sam stayed up most of the night getting Makayla back to sleep so he slept in a little longer than the rest of the bunker. Mary got up first and made the coffee, followed by you and then a very disgruntled looking Dean. You were curled up in one of the chairs, looking over your journal. There had to be some way to connect all of your research to find the vampires’ nest. 

“It looks like that girl has got Sam wrapped around her finger already.” Mary smirked, looking at you as she sipped her coffee. She wasn’t your biggest fan, of course, but heart breaker or not, you still gave Sam what she had always hoped for him- a family of his own. Dean made a sound, but he was still only half awake. 

“So I’ve pinpointed the area of the nest, but not the specific location.” You slid your journal across the table to him. “During slower hunting seasons, they’ve stayed near home in Springfield, Colorado. As far as I know, there’s fifteen, maybe seventeen.” 

“Perfect,” Dean grumbled. You were about to add something when your eyes went wide.

“Dean!” You shrieked, pointing to the doorway. He turned around in confusion. 

“Oh god,” He jumped out of his chair and rushed to Makayla, who had somehow found his pistol and was now pointing it at his mother. “Hey kiddo, I’m going to need you to give that back to me.” He laughed nervously, holding out his hand. 

“How did she get that?” Mary exclaimed. 

“Hell if I know.” Dean kept smiling, hoping that Makayla would calmly hand over his very lethal weapon. 

“That’s a bad word, Uncle Dean.” Kayla scolded, shaking the pistol at him. Dean’s eyes widened frantically. 

“Makayla Mary Y/L/N, give him that gun. You know that it’s not a toy.” Your mom voice instinctively kicked in and Makayla pouted her lip, giving you her classic puppy dog gaze. You could tell that Dean’s resolve was failing to her cuteness, but you were holding strong. You put your hands on your hips. “Now.” She handed Dean his pistol and he quickly tucked it into his waistband. Mary was looking at you, blush spreading on her cheeks. 

“What did you say her name was?” She gasped. You hadn’t even realized that you said her full name. 

“It’s um, Makayla, after my best friend. And Mary… after you.” Even if Sam didn’t know when she was born, you still wanted his family to be a part of her. For the first time since you’d met, Mary looked at you without glaring. She looked really touched. 

“Piggyback ride!” Makayla squealed before suddenly jumping onto Dean’s back. 

“Son of a-” He started until you gave him a stern look. He glared back at you, but underneath his annoyance, he had a tone of affection in his voice when he spoke to his niece. “Alright kid, but only for a few laps.” You looked on with an amused smile. Dean even made a few horse noises, making Makayla giggle. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was Naomi, probably just calling to check in and make sure you were alright.

“Miss me already? How sweet.” You snarked. Your smirk dropped when it wasn’t her voice on the other line. 

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time.” The man drawled. Your heart dropped. You knew that voice. That night flashed through your head. That fake southern sweetness singing your name as they hunted you, your best friend’s blood still dripping from their lips. Montgomery. 

“Where’s Naomi?” You snapped, your changed tone catching Mary’s attention. 

“She was delicious.” He laughed. You tried to focus on your anger to cover up the pain that shot through your chest. 

“I’m going to end you, you bastard.” You said through gritted teeth. He just laughed. 

“We know all about the little team you’ve assembled. It’s touching really. To think I’ve inspired a family reunion.” The vamp mocked you and you could feel the hot tears blurring your vision. “Make no mistake, Y/N. They’ll all die. Starting with that handsome tall one, the one that knocked you up all those years ago. But don’t worry, I have bigger plans for you.” His voice changed to a terrifying growl. “I’m going to turn you, Y/N. Turn you into the thing you’ve hated for so long. And that brat will be your first kill.” 

Montgomery hung up and you looked at the phone with a shaking hand. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to you. You threw the phone against the wall, watching it shatter on the floor. You didn’t even see Sam standing there. You were lucky you missed his head. Dean put a frightened Makayla down. 

“Hey Kayla, why don’t you go with Grandma Mary for a little while?” Dean gave her a little push towards his mother and Mary took her to the other room. His flashed back to you. “The hell was that?”

“They killed Naomi.” You said, resisting the urge to wreck anything you could get your hands on, especially since Dean was the closest. “They killed her because she helped me.” Naomi was a good friend. Whenever you needed someone to watch over Makayla, it was Naomi’s place that you took her to. No questions as long as you came back in one piece. 

“I’m sorry.” Sam sighed. His kind tone nearly made you break. You needed someone to yell, to blame you for letting this happen. 

“We’ve got to take this sons of bitches out.” Dean was itching to kill and he knew you were too. 

“We need a plan first, Dean. We can’t just go in swinging machetes.” Sam scoffed. “We don’t even know where they are.” 

“We can always draw them out.” You suggested. “They want me, they can come and get me.” 

“What? No.” Sam exclaimed. “That’s not even remotely an option.”

“Sam, it might be the only way to get to them.” You refuted. “They’ve been hunting me for too long. If Montgomery wants to dance, then I say ‘let’s dance’.”

“Did you suddenly forget that this isn’t just about you?” His jaw clenched and he crossed the kitchen to you. 

“I’m doing this for Makayla.” 

“No, you’re doing this for you!” Your faces were too close together and the look in his eyes made you take a step back. “You’ve gotten that sweet girl messed up in your fight for revenge when she should have grown up playing with teddy bears and Barbies.” That was the last straw. This wasn’t just about you. 

“I am not John, Sam.” You spat. How dare he stand there and call you a bad mother? Sam just glared. 

“Really, cause it seems to me you’re just like him. Makayla is growing up just like I did. A parent obsessed with vengeance, no regard for how screwed up they’re making their kid!” He barely finished his sentence before you slapped him.

 Nobody said a word. Sam jerked his head back towards you and Dean was ready to step in before this got ugly. The moment was interrupted, however, by the quiet sound of crying. Your heart dropped and a wave of guilt washed over both you and Sam. Makayla looked up at her parents. 

“We’re supposed to be a family.” She bawled. “Why do you have to fight?” Before either of you could say anything, she took off down the hall. 

“Makayla!” Sam yelled, feeling absolutely awful. 

“Kayla, honey come back!” The three of you went after her, but it was a big bunker and she was a pretty small child. “Makayla!”

“Damn that kid is fast.” Dean muttered. You stopped. 

“Okay, Dean, you go check the dungeon, I’ll go check the bedrooms, and Sam you can look in the garage.” You suggested. Sam nodded, your fight put aside, but not forgotten. His cheek still stung a little. 

“Makayla!” He called out, hearing you and Dean depart for your designated areas. He opened the door to the garage and was surprised to find the door open. “Makayla, come on out.” A cold breeze blew in and he noticed a little huddled form just outside the garage door. He took off his flannel and slowly peeked outside. “Sweetheart, what are you doing out here?” He draped his shirt around her. It might as well have been a blanket. 

“I-I don’t like yelling. The shadow man always yells.” She cried. Sam sighed. He had made his daughter cry because he couldn’t just face his real feelings for you. 

“I’m so sorry sweetie, you’re mom and I were having a disagreement. We won’t yell anymore.” 

“Why did Mommy hit you?” 

“She didn’t mean to.” He gave her a convincing smile. Makayla peeked over his shoulder. 

“Who’s that?” Sam’s brows furrowed together. 

“Wh-” His head was slammed into the ground before he could even turn around. 

“Leave my daddy alone!” Makayla cried and a person in all black picked her up. 

“No…” Sam said hazily, his consciousness slowly fading. “Makayla…”

-

Continue to Part Four

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624​; @halesandy​ @livshaes​;  @d-whinchestergirl87​;  @mrspeacem1nusone​

Sam Winchester: @theamuz;  @adeliness​

Makayla Series: @rhiannon-the-troublemaker​; @hoboal87​

[lilacivories]

caught red-handed

characters: Diego, Klaus, Allison

pairing(s): none

summary: Diego and Allison catch Klaus going through Allison’s things again and decide that a suitable punishment is in order

word count: 1979

––––––––––––––––

When Diego passed by Allison’s room, what he didn’t expect to hear was thumping, shuffling, and swearing in a voice that definitely wasn’t his sister’s.

His curiosity successfully piqued, Diego backtracked.

Of course, the villain in question was Klaus, who was squirming around in Allison’s closet like a fish out of water. From the looks of it, he was struggling to detach one of the skirts from its hanger. Among the cursing, Diego was able to hear some mutterings, presumably towards Ben.

“You’re gonna tear it if you keep pulling like that, y’know.”

Klaus yelped and spun his head around, his hands remaining on the hanger. “Diego!” he said with a grin. “What a surprise! Oh, and what a prize I’ve found here. Won’t you give me a hand, oh dearest brother?”

Diego moved closer, wondering what could possibly be hindering him (besides the height of the clothing rack, which was honestly ridiculous). It was only then that he saw what looked like a pair of handcuffs attached to the clothing rack that had Klaus’s wrists in their grip, hidden between two of the skirts Klaus had been attempting to pilfer.

Diego couldn’t help but smirk. “What in the hell did you do to yourself?”

“It wasn’t me!” Klaus insisted. “Allison must’ve set up some damn booby trap and now I’m stuck!” He pulled again on the cuffs, but they held fast, and effectively kept his arms restrained above his head. “Diego, help me!”

“I dunno, man,” Diego shrugged, unable to wipe the smile from his face, “you kinda deserve it. Allison did tell you to stay away from her stuff.” He took another look at his brother. “Are you already wearing one of her skirts?”

Klaus shimmied his hips so that the knee-length skirt swung around invitingly. “Yeah, but she’s loaded! She can afford a million of these, and I’m out here having to steal to get by in the fashion world! It’s a capitalist scheme, is what it is!”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making claims like that.”

Klaus kicked a leg out at him. “Oh, shut up and let me out of here.”

Thanks to years of practice, Diego deftly caught the offending leg and held it by the ankle. “You’re also not in the position to be threatening the only person who can help you right now.” Klaus was only wearing socks, so it certainly wouldn’t have hurt Diego in any case, but the idea of tormenting his brother was always on the table.

“No no no!” Klaus struggled to break Diego’s grip in vain. “Let go! Ben, he-elp!” The last word broke off as a squeal when Diego squeezed the spot just above his knee over and over.

“This is almost too easy,” Diego gloated over the laughter pouring out of his brother. “I’m barely doing anything to you!”

“Shut up!” Klaus struggled for footing on the one leg he had at his disposal, and that combined with his high-pitched laugh and scrunched nose had Diego laughing, too.

“Looks like my idea was a success.”

Diego dropped Klaus’s leg at the voice from behind him. Allison was standing in the doorway, eyebrow cocked and arms crossed, looking very pleased with herself.

Feeling a bit abashed at having been caught, Diego cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I’m kind of impressed, they’re holding really well. Where did you get them?”

Allison walked in to stand beside Number 2, sparing Klaus an amused glance as she replied. “I told Pogo that a certain someone was sneaking into my room and going through my personal things. He seemed particularly interested in catching...” She looked pointedly at Klaus, “...whoever it is, so he and Mom made those for me to attach to the inside of my closet. Pretty hi-tech, huh?”

Klaus took the opportunity to try and weasel his way out of the prison of his own making. “Allison! Please, save me! All I wanted was to bond with you over our mutual love of fashion, and Diego’s been torturing me!”

Diego and Allison caught each other’s eye. “Is that so?” Allison asked.

“Yes, it’s been just awful! You’ve got to get me out of here!”

Allison feigned innocence. “What was he doing that was so awful?”

Diego almost laughed at the sight of Klaus, strung up and helpless, open and close his mouth like a gaping fish at the question. “What?” he finally squeaked.

“What was Diego doing to you?”

It was always a pleasure to see Klaus at a loss for words, and this time was no exception. All he could answer, after a short silence, was: “Nothing!”

“Nothing?” Allison asked. She took a step towards him; the click of her heels on the floor was intimidating all on its own. “So if Diego wasn’t doing anything, that means that...you lied to me.”

“I– I– I mean–”

“And it means,” she continued, “that you have not yet been properly punished for going through my things without permission.” Her smile was pure evil. “So I think that this calls for a double punishment. Don’t you, Diego?”

Diego’s grin matched hers. “Couldn’t agree more.”

“W-wait, we can talk about this– Nonono, not that!”

Diego looked over to find what had Klaus so riled up and panicky. He was thrilled to find that the source of his brother’s fears were Allison’s long, pristine yellow nails that she was hovering dangerously over his bare sides.

“Looks like your crop top backfired this time, bro,” Diego chuckled, giving him a warning prod at his ribs, which Klaus shrieked at.

Allison considered this. “Or maybe he’s exactly where he wants to be.” Then she grinned at Klaus. “Any last words?”

“Yes, I’d like to exact my right to filibuster–”

The moment Allison’s nails touched down on his sides, he was gone; he threw his head back and laughed his heart out. Her technique was gentle and slow– yet unrelenting, following Klaus’s desperate twisting with ease.

“I didn’t know you’d like my nails so much!” she taunted. Klaus responded with a loud snort when she dragged her nails over where his sides met his lower back and tickled there. “Oh my god– Diego, you gotta look at him.”

Diego left his position from behind their victim, where he had been pinching his upper ribs, to see what she was talking about.

“Oh my god. You’re blushing?”

Klaus, still laughing, shook his head. It was too late, however, as it was very clear to everyone that his ears and cheeks were a glaring pink that only grew darker with the attention.

“He definitely is.”

“Shuhut the hell uhup!” Klaus insisted. “You’re so meaheahean!”

“Ooo.” Diego clucked and shook his head. “And we were even thinking of letting you off easy.” He considered it, and then decided to go for the kill. “Say, Allison, I think you could put those nails of yours to good use right...here.” He gave Klaus’s belly a poke.

The reaction from both was immediate. Allison’s eyes filled with a maniacal energy that neither of them had ever seen before; she flexed her fingers at Klaus in warning, letting that one action do all of the talking for her.

Klaus, on the other hand, was begging, as if for his life. He thrashed in his bonds, tried to back up as much as possible with his legs, but one push from Diego behind him brought him right back to square one.

“Nonononono, Allison, wait, don’t– wait! Ahallison, this isn’t fair! Do you want a new skirt, I can do that! I just need some time– AAH!”

He couldn’t have been more vulnerable to her every move. Her long nails touched down on the soft skin of his belly and dragged themselves up to his ribs, then all the way back down and around. Allison looked very proud of herself indeed when she discovered that spidering her nails into his belly had Klaus caught between hiccuping, snorting (which he seemed to get bashful about, because he turned a new shade of pink every time he did so), and cackling hysterically.

Diego, meanwhile, had found a home at that horrible, awful spot under his arms just above the tops of his ribs, and dug into it with vigor. Klaus’s writhing was sometimes so vehement that he had to duck out of the way, but he always came back to it because he knew how much it wrecked his poor brother.

After some time, they gave him a break.

“So,” Allison prompted, “are you sorry?”

Klaus, to his credit, recovered faster than expected, and after a minute was able to respond, “You know I can’t apologize for art.”

Allison quirked an eyebrow at him. “Would you like to apologize for breaking and entering?”

Klaus considered this. “Well, really, you never close your door, so in a way, it’s kind of your fault!”

Diego scoffed. “You’re really asking for it this time, huh?”

“I’m just saying, I think she should be okay with sharing if she’s not even gonna shut her door all the way!”

Allison was finished listening, however. She put an arm around Klaus’s waist; her oversensitive brother jumped, and was already biting back a smile as she effectively kept him from wriggling away.

“That was the wrong answer,” she said. Then, with just her pointer finger, she started drawing maddening little circles around his navel, occasionally moving to tickle inside of it before returning to the outer edge.

Klaus pretty much went ballistic at this, writhing so much in her grasp that Diego had to step in and attempt to keep him still while she continued.

“Oh my god,” Allison laughed. “You are actually the most ticklish person on the entire planet.”

“Nohohoho!” Klaus wailed. “Dohon’t! Stohohop it!”

“Don’t stop?” Diego teased, and gave his sides a few squeezes where he was holding him still.

“Pleaheahease!”

“Please don’t stop,” Allison corrected. “Good to see he’s finally learning some manners, at least.” With her free hand, she spidered her nails on the underside of his belly, at the oversensitive strip of skin between his hips; she and Diego both laughed at the full-body thrash Klaus did that looked like more like a weird dance move than anything else.

“Okay! Okay!” Klaus cried. “I’m– I’m sahaharry!”

His sister only continued, putting on a faux-confused look. “I don’t think I know that word. Do you, Diego?”

“Can’t say I do.”

Klaus shook his head wildly. “Nahahaa! I cahan’t! I can’t! I cahahan’t!”

At long last, the two relented.

“So, what was that you said before, Klaus?” Allison prompted.

Klaus panted, still giggling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I’m sorry!”

“Damn,” Diego chuckled. “I think you actually broke him. I’ve never heard him apologize before.”

Allison made a show of blowing on her nails. “These bad boys never fail.”

Diego checked on their victim, who seemed to be loopy with unending giggles. “You alright there, man?”

“That...was wild.”

“Oh!” Allison jumped up. “I just remembered one other thing that drove him wild when we were kids.”

Without so much as a warning, Allison blew a big, silly raspberry into Klaus’s ribs. Klaus snorted and shrieked and kicked his legs, and then it was over.

Allison pulled a remote control from her jacket pocket and pressed a button; the cuffs released Klaus, who would have collapsed on the floor if not for Diego standing by to catch him and help ease him to lie down on the bed.

“You had that the entire time?” Klaus demanded, though it wasn’t a very serious inquiry with his absurd smile.

She shrugged. “Of course I did. I just needed to remind you who’s in charge here.”

Klaus swore and fell back on the bed. He couldn’t wait to see if he could find anything else in Allison’s closet in a few days.

[spacesquidlings]

Smiles and Laughter and Playtime

MC awoke expecting to see her husband. Instead all she found was an empty bed and an empty cradle. Although the laughter that filled the house gave her an idea of where her husband and her baby were.

Pairing: Gavin Bai x MC

Warnings: None!!!!

A/N: Hello it’s been an awfully long time!!!!! But this is the first fic I’ve finished in a very long time and it’s very silly, but writing it made me very happy so I do hope reading it will make you happy as well!!!! And special shout out to one of my dearest friends Anne, @jihyuncompass​ who I was talking to when I got this idea, and honestly just for being so wonderful!!!!!!

************************************************************************************************

MC yawned, pulling the blankets up as warm light spilled in from between the curtains, casting rosy shadows across the bed.

She rolled over, reaching out for her husband, only to find the sheets tucked tightly around her, his side of the bed empty.

“Gavin?” She called, her voice still heavy with sleep.

She pushed the blankets to the side, a few plushies falling to the floor as she stood. She quickly scooped them up and set them on the bed, arranging them over hers and Gavin’s pillows before tucking them in.

She didn’t usually sleep with plushies anymore, not when she had her Gavin to snuggle all night. He was warm and comfy and she loved falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. But sometimes when Gavin was away on missions she would sleep with them piled around her, and when he would leave early for work he would tuck a few into the blankets beside her so she wasn’t alone while she slept.

But he had the next few days off, and he’d promised to stay home and spend time with her and their baby daughter.

She reached for a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, shuffling over to the cradle that was pushed up against the wall.

They had a room ready for Aurora before she was born, but neither of them had been able to bear having her in a separate room yet. It was harder to hear her crying when she needed something, and they’d wanted her close.

MC peeked into the cradle, only to see that it was empty too, both her daughter and her husband missing.

She paused when she heard laughter spilling in through the crack in the door, the sound of gurgling, baby giggles weaving with the low, warm laugh of her husband.

She pushed open the door, her blanket trailing behind her like a cape as she made her way to the living room. The sound of nails clicking on the ground drew her attention and she crouched down as Stella bounded towards her, fluffy tail wagging as she nearly knocked MC from her feet as she licked her face.

“Stella! Stella hello!” She laughed, pushing at her dog as she continued licking her face. “Stella you’re going to knock me over!”

That seemed to be Stella’s plan, as she finally succeeded in knocking MC to the ground and giving her face lots of kisses.

She was gasping on the floor with laughter when Stella finally relented, seeming satisfied with her work and padding away. MC wiped her face, snatching up her blanket and chasing after her silly dog.

She paused when she stepped into the living room, the curtains drawn back, letting warm afternoon light wash across the room, bathing it in gold. Gavin was kneeling on the floor, making faces at their giggling daughter. She was laying on her back, her tiny fists reaching up into the air as she laughed at her daddy.

MC paused, covering her mouth to muffle her own laughter. She watched as Gavin’s face shifted, his eyes growing large and his mouth widening into an O as he made funny sounds. Aurora shrieked with laughter, kicking her chubby legs and arms as Gavin covered her face in kisses.

He changed the pitch of his voice as he spoke to her, earning squealing laughter. MC heard the pitch of Aurora’s laughs grow as Gavin raspberried her tummy, his own low chuckling filling the room with a warmth not even the sun could match.

He lifted their daughter into the air, feigning a gasp as she grabbed for his face, her small hands tangling in his messy bangs.

“Aurora!” He laughed, making another silly face at her as she tugged on his hair. “Aurora, that’s my hair!”

She squealed every time he made a new face, continuing to tug at his bangs. Eventually Gavin covered her face in kisses again, and she released his hair, waving her little arms around as she babbled.

Gavin’s eyes shifted to where MC stood, brightening as they fell on her. Afternoon light danced in his eyes, and they reminded her of molten gold, of autumn leaves dancing through sunlit skies. His ears turned rosy, his cheeks beginning to stain a soft pink, but the smile on his lips was soft, and it sent sunlight and butterflies scattering through her heart.

“Aurora, look!” He said, shifting their baby to look at her. “Mommy’s awake from her nap! Say hi!”

Aurora squealed, her hands reaching out towards MC, and she felt her heart melt at the sight of her baby daughter.

“I think she wants you to hold her, mommy,” he said, walking towards her.

MC was near giddy as Gavin gently laid Aurora in her arms. She cradled her baby close to her heart, unable to stop herself from smiling. Aurora babbled softly, her hands curling into little fists against MC’s chest.

She lifted each tiny fist and kissed it, earning giggles from Aurora. She felt her smile widening, warmth washing over her as she cradled her baby in her arms, pressing kisses to her downy hair.

“Were you playing with daddy?” She asked, smoothing a few wrinkles on her shirt.

Aurora stared up at her with wide, round eyes. They were a brown so light they were nearly gold, just like Gavin’s. It made MC happier than she could put into words and she ended up holding Aurora tight, kissing her head again.

Gavin chuckled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“I did,” MC said, peeking up at her husband, his expression so soft it made her knees a little weak. “Although it would have been better if I’d woken up with my husband still beside me.”

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her brow. “You know I would have laid there with you in my arms forever, but Aurora started crying and I didn’t want her to wake you.”

She looked back down at their daughter, nestled against her chest. “Was everything alright?”

Gavin nodded, kissing MC’s cheek this time. “She just wanted attention I think. She stopped crying once I started playing with her.”

“Oh I’m glad,” she murmured, letting Aurora wrap her hand around one of her fingers. “I’m glad she’s alright.”

“Well what about me?” Gavin asked, the teasing note in his voice drawing MC’s gaze back up to him.

“What about you?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Do you care if I’m alright?” He breathed, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth.

“Of course I care if you’re alright!” She said, heat blooming in her cheeks as he placed a featherlight kiss against her lips.

He hummed, kissing her jaw, his hands resting on her waist.

“Are you not alright?” She asked, her voice wavering.

“I’m okay, although I think I’d be better if I could hold my wife for a little bit.”

She laughed, leaning into his embrace. “Well I think I can manage that.”

She could feel his smile against her skin before he pulled away, just enough to tug her towards the couch and into his lap.

“Is this better?” She asked, readjusting Aurora so she could smooth down Gavin’s hair. “Are you feeling better now?”

“I’m feeling much better now,” he said, trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, his lips hovering over her pulse.

“Well I’m glad both my babies are happy now,” she mused, giggling as he pressed playful kisses to her neck.

“What about you?” He asked, peeking up at her for a minute. “Are you happy too, pumpkin?”

Heat flooded her cheeks and she fought to stifle her laughter at the impish light in his eyes.

“Yes, I’m very happy babey,” she said, giggling as he kissed her again, all over her neck and jaw and cheeks.

“I mean,” she continued, threading her fingers through his hair. “I would’ve been pretty happy to wake up in your arms and to cuddle our baby, but.”

He kissed her lips and pulled away, just enough to meet her eyes. “But?”

“But seeing you making those silly faces and voices was a pretty great way to wake up too.”

Gavin’s face flushed instantly, his ears and cheeks turning crimson. He looked down, his gaze focused on a spot on the couch beside her.

“Well she uh, she really likes it, and I wanted to cheer her up… And she started laughing, and…” He trailed off, seeming to grow flustered the more he tried to explain himself.

MC couldn’t help grinning as his face grew so flushed she thought he might catch fire. Her heart fluttered a bit at how cute he was, how sweet his face looked, and she leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t be embarrassed, babey,” she teased, kissing him again. “I thought it was so cute, and…” She trailed off as Aurora cooed, drawing both of their attention for a moment.

She squeezed Aurora’s hand, hugging her baby a little tighter as Gavin reached out to take her other tiny hand.

“And I love seeing how happy you were. How happy she makes you.”

Gavin blushed again, but it was softer this time, the same rosy pink as the sky at dawn. He looked back up at her, his smile just as soft.

“Of course she makes me happy,” he breathed. “You and her both make me happier than I could put into words, sweetheart.”

MC did her best to curl closer to him, joy dancing in her heart as his arms wrapped around her, drawing her close. “Really?”

“You both make me happier than I’ve ever been before,” he murmured, kissing her again, slower this time.

“You both make me happy too,” she said, her words soft as she spoke. “So very happy.”

She peeked back down at Aurora, at her wide eyes and her little coos, her hands tugging on MC’s and Gavin’s fingers, trying to get their attention.

“Do you think she’s happy too?”

Gavin looked down at their daughter, chuckling softly as she gave him a wide, toothless smile. “I think so. I think our daughter might be the happiest baby in the entire world.”

He kissed Aurora’s face, then MC’s. “I know I’m definitely the happiest man in the world.”

Aurora squealed with laughter, as if in agreement, and MC couldn’t help laughing. Because of the baby in her arms, because of the man holding her in his lap, because there was so much joy in her heart and in the sun-drenched living room, surrounded by her little family.

[intheticklecloset]

My Hero Academia Sentence Starters #91-100

A collection of the MHA sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

91) Lee Momo, Ler Todoroki

“Eeek!”

Todoroki stopped mid-step to look at Momo with concern, frowning. “Did I hurt you?”

“N-No, sorry, just…” She blushed and averted her gaze, still with both hands on his shoulders. “I’m a little…ticklish there.”

He blinked. One of his hands was placed at the small of her back, the other between her shoulders. They’d been slow dancing in his bedroom after quiet hours, finding all the little moments they could to be together. Todoroki’s lips twitched up in a small smirk. “Ticklish? Where, exactly?”

Momo suddenly looked flustered – a cute look on her, he decided. She tried to wiggle away from him, but he only held her tighter, refusing to let this opportunity go by so easily. “N-Nowhere. Let me go—”

“Was it here?” he asked, pressing his fingers into the space between her shoulder blades. Though she struggled, she didn’t seem to react much. He then did the same with the fingers at the small of her back. “Or here?”

This time Momo squeaked again, arching into him with a tiny giggle. “Don’t, please—”

“Really? There?” he teased, doing it again, allowing her to squirm away and think that she’d escaped just before grabbing her around the waist and tackling her to his bed, digging his fingers gently into her sides and belly. “What about here? Are you ticklish everywhere?”

“Shohohohotohohoho!” she squealed, giggling in his grasp. “Nohohohohoho! Ehehehehehehehe!”

“I never knew you were ticklish, Momo.” He smirked, continuing to gently tickle her until she was pink in the face. Finally he let up on his soft attack, allowing her to catch her breath. “You’re cute when you’re all helpless like that.”

“Shut up!” she laughed, grabbing his pillow and smacking him in the face with it. “Jerk.”

“Ohoho~” he ripped the pillow from her hands and grinned wickedly down at her, going for her ribs and underarms this time. Once again her musical laughter filled the air. “You’re going to regret that, my dear.”

*

92) Lee Aoyama, Ler Bakugou

“It’s too far!” Aoyama whined, crumbling to the ground in a dramatic heap of defeat.

Bakugou – who happened to be jogging next to him at the time – stopped dead in his tracks and glared at his fellow blonde. “Seriously? Man up, sparkles!”

“I can’t make it! I’m not built for long-distance sprints like this!”

“Get your butt off the ground now or I’ll make you get up!”

Aoyama eyed him. “Since when do you care whether your classmates do well in their training?”

Bakugou bristled, let out a huffing sigh, and reached down to grab Aoyama’s arm and pull him roughly back to his feet. “Let’s go, idiot.”

“Unhand me,” Aoyama demanded, trying to wrench himself free. “Leave me behind! It’ll only be better for you, you know.”

“Oh, shut up, already!” Bakugou yelled, grabbing Aoyama around the waist with the intention to hoist him over his shoulder and carry him the rest of the way. But when the sparkly blonde let out a shriek and a few giggles, the atomic teen smirked wickedly and continued squeezing up and down his sides and hips, drawing surprised, uncontrollable snickers from his classmate. “Heh. You know, maybe this will work even better, giggles.”

“S-Stohohohohop! Unhahahahahand me!”

“What are you, a villain? Nobody uses the word ‘unhand’ in everyday life. Get with the times, you moron.”

“Bahahahahakugou, plehehehehease! Stohohohohohop!” Aoyama squealed, squirming and kicking to no avail. “Lehehehehet me go!”

“You gonna finish this sprint?”

“I cahahahahahan’t!”

Bakugou suddenly let up, then raised his wiggling fingers into Aoyama’s field of vision. “What if you had a tickle monster chasing you the entire way?”

Aoyama’s eyes went wide and he yelped, taking off with renewed energy as a laughing, teasing Bakugou chased after him, fingers wiggling all the way to the finish line.

*

93) Lee Todoroki, Ler Hawks

“Hey, cheer up, kid,” Hawks teased easily, brushing one of his wings against Todoroki’s neck and ears, making the younger boy squeak and stumble back, eyes sharp and wide. “Don’t look so glum. It doesn’t suit you.”

Todoroki just stared at him.

Hawks shrugged. “What? Tokoyami informs me that you and your friends tickle each other all the time, and that you especially are really sensitive. He wasn’t lying, was he?”

Todoroki’s face flushed red. “No, but…”

“Then cheer up.” Hawks used his feathers to brush along his neck again, and when the half-and-half hero twisted out of the way again, Hawks darted forward to grab his sides and squeeze.

“Gah! Nohohohohohoho!” Todoroki couldn’t help the flood of giggles that poured from him, bright and bubbly despite how embarrassed he was. “Hahahahahahawks!”

“Feeling better yet?”

“I’m gohohohohohoing to k-kihihihihihill him!”

“Who? Not your father, I hope.”

“No! T-Tohohohokoyahahahami!” Todoroki arched his back when Hawks found his underarms, bursting into loud laughter. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“Well, I can’t have you doing that. He’s a valuable asset to me,” Hawks teased. “Promise you won’t kill him, okay?”

“FIHIHIHIHIHINE I WOHOHOHON’T!! JUST STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Hawks let him go, smiling as Todoroki caught his breath, still shaking and giggling a little bit. He chuckled. “Don’t kill Tokoyami. But if you feel like tickling him to near death for ratting you out, I would completely understand.”

Todoroki chuckled, then grew serious. “Does…does my father know about this?”

“What? That you’re ticklish?”

“No, that…that my friends and I…”

Hawks caught on right away and softened. “Nah. I haven’t told him, and I don’t plan to. You’re good, kid.”

Todoroki breathed a sigh of relief, blushing and smiling despite himself. “Thank you.”

*

94) Lee Bakugou, Lers Kirishima and Shoji

“STOP!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Bakugou screamed through his laughter, kicking and struggling against his attackers, going nowhere fast. The fact that he couldn’t touch the ground with his feet was definitely not helping him feel any better about this situation.

Shoji held him up off the floor with one pair of arms, using another pair to tickle his ribs while Kirishima – that traitor – tickled his belly and hips, grinning all the while. “Aww, is our little thief a little ticklish?”

“I’M NOHOHOHOHOT A THIEHEHEHEHEF, YOU JEHEHEHEHEHERK!!” Bakugou snapped as best he could manage, twisting when Shoji got a little too close to his weak spot. “IT WAHAHAHAHAHASN’T YOHOHOHOHOHOURS!!”

“Uh, it was mine,” Kiri argued, grabbing his thigh, pressing in deep, making him shriek. “Who else in this dorm would have purposefully bought a banana crème protein shake?”

“Bakugou, apparently,” Shoji replied.

“Yeah, apparently.”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!! WRIHIHIHIHIHITE YOUR NAHAHAHAHAME ON IT IF YOU DOHOHOHOHOHON’T WANT ME TO DRIHIHIHIHIHINK IT!!”

“Don’t drink it when you know it’s obviously mine!” Kiri shot back, but he was smiling. Playing with Bakugou this way was always a lot of fun. “Since I can’t get it back now, you’ll have to make up the price I paid for it in tickle torture. Deal with it, Baku-bro.”

At that moment Shoji switched tactics and went for his underarms, digging and scraping like he was mining for gold, making the angry blonde toss his head back and let out a shriek of laughter, followed by even more kicking. Kirishima took the opportunity to slide up to his ribs so both of his worst spots were being tickled at once.

“NONONO STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Bakugou finally begged, laughing so hard tears sprang to his eyes. “KIRISHIMA, PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

But Kiri just smiled and shook his head. “Sorry, bud, but I’d say you’re only halfway through paying me back for stealing my drink. You’ll just have to take a little more to make up the difference~”

*

95) Lee Bakugou, Lers Deku and Todoroki

“Aw, what’s the matter, Kacchan?” Deku teased into the blonde’s ear, fingers digging into his side. “A little ticklish?”

Bakugou growled around his giggles. “Shuhuhuhut up.”

“Big, bad Bakugou can’t take being teased when it’s his turn to giggle his cares away,” Todoroki added, grinning, tickling his ribs on the other side. Both he and Deku held one of Bakugou’s wrists around their necks to keep him from bringing his arms down protectively. “Can you, little Katsuki? Hmm? Can’t take a little tickly teasing, huh?”

“Shuhuhuhuhut up!” Bakugou tried to snap, though it came out as more of a whine. He squirmed between both of his boyfriends, giggling uncontrollably and blushing down to his neck. It was true he couldn’t stand being teased, but he had to admit, being given so much unabashed attention from both of his partners made him feel really good. “S-Stuhuhuhupid extras…”

“What did you just call us?” Deku gasped dramatically, sliding up to his ribs and digging in harder. “I know you didn’t just call us extras!”

Bakugou jerked sharply, a bark of laughter escaping him at the sudden harsher tickles. “Gah! Y-Yeah, I cahahahahahalled you extras – whahahahat are you gohohohohonna do about it?”

Todoroki hummed, scratching his fingers in his underarm. “Do you really want to know, babe?”

Bakugou whined on purpose this time but stayed resolved despite knowing he’d regret it in about five seconds. “I’m nohohohohohot afrahahahahaid of you lohohohohosers!”

Deku tsked. “So much name calling today. What should we do about it, Sho?”

“Hmm…” Todoroki pretended to think about it, then quickly shot his hand down the space between Bakugou’s ribs and underarm. Deku followed his lead, and suddenly the blonde threw his head back and laughed openly, not even bothering to try and hide how badly this spot tickled him as he thrashed in their holds.

“WAHAHAHAHAHAIT, WAIT!! NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!!” he begged.

Todoroki chuckled, sharing a smile with Deku. “Oh, but Katsuki…you did ask for this, after all~”

*

96) Lee Kirishima, Ler Bakugou

Wham! The pillow smacked into Bakugou from behind, making him whirl around and glare at his redheaded boyfriend.

“Do you want to die?” he growled.

Kiri flashed him a boyish grin. “Fight me, bruh.”

Bakugou groaned. “You did not just say ‘bruh.’”

“I did.” Kiri giggled, smacking him in the shoulder with his pillow. “What are you gonna do about it? Come on, fight me!”

Bakugou scanned the bed for another pillow, but the closest one was positioned behind Kiri, and he had a feeling the redhead knew that. Instead, he grinned wickedly and started wrestling to claim possession of the pillow, determined to take it and whack it right in Kiri’s stupidly cute face.

After several long moments and failed attempts to grab the pillow, Bakugou let out a grunt of frustration and grabbed Kiri’s ankle instead, scribbling his fingers over the bare sole. “Give me that pillow.”

“Eeeeek! Nahahahahahahaha!” Kiri squealed, immediately bursting into giggles, trying to wrench his foot away. When that failed and he attempted kicking Bakugou with his free foot, his boyfriend quickly took both feet captive and dragged his nails up and down the arches, making Kiri lose composure quickly as he flopped back onto the mattress and laughed helplessly. “Kahahahahahats!”

“Hand over the pillow or suffer the consequences,” Bakugou demanded, voice playful as he grinned at his partner. “I’m taking no prisoners today.”

Kirishima only gripped the pillow harder and clutched it to his chest. “Ohohohohover my dehehehehead bohohohohody!”

“Oh, really, now?” Bakugou smirked lazily at him, quickly flipping him over so he was on his stomach and therefore more helpless than before. He straddled his ankles and went to work digging and scratching and raking all over Kirishima’s bare soles, making his boyfriend screech with laughter, already pounding the bed from how ticklish it was. “I’m sure that can be arranged, my love~”

*

97) Lee Kaminari, Lers Bakugou and Kirishima

Zap.

“Knock it off, dunce,” Bakugou snapped, shoving Denki into Kirishima’s lap, glaring at the TV screen. The three of them were watching an anime together, but Denki seemed determined to be a distraction. “I’m trying to watch.”

A moment passed. Zap.

This time it was Kirishima who let out a squeak and jolted to the side with a giggle. “Seriously, bro, quit it! We’re trying to watch our show.”

Denki smirked, waited a bit longer this time, then grabbed both of their sides at once and used his tickle-shocks to make them both screech out a laugh and squirm away from him.

Bakugou was the first to recover, glaring at his fellow blonde. “You’re asking for it, idiot.”

Kiri chuckled. “No, man – I think he’s asked for it.”

Denki was unaware of the exchange happening between the two until it was too late. In the next moment he suddenly had both of his arms pinned to the couch cushions on either side of him, Bakugou and Kiri leaning on him as if settling in to watch their show more comfortably, all while tickling his exposed sides.

“Eeee! Nahahahahahahaha! Guys!” Denki squealed, struggling but going nowhere fast. He bucked and kicked his feet, but they never let up, and he could never get away from the gentle but persistent tickles. “Plehehehehehease!”

“Do you hear something, Kiri?” Bakugou asked, never taking his eyes from the screen.

“I think it’s just some static in the background. Old TV set, you know?” Kiri played along, grinning wickedly.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Oh, well. We’ll just have to get used to it.”

“I suppose so.”

Denki was laughing for a long, long time.

*

98) Lee Momo, Lers Jirou and Todoroki

Momo was totally adorable when she was being tickled. Todoroki smiled fondly down at her as he gently sat on her arms, pinning them above her head to get at her armpits while their girlfriend Jirou scribbled lightly at her stomach and sides.

He had to admit, when Momo had asked if he’d be willing to be in a poly relationship with the punk rock girl, he’d been a little uncertain. He liked her well enough, sure, but he’d never thought of her that way…at least, not until he’d gotten to know her a little better. Now he considered himself incredibly lucky to have two amazing girlfriends.

He was even luckier that Jirou was just as much of a tickle monster as he was, and that Momo never seemed to mind being the victim of their constant attacks.

Right now she lay squirming and giggling on the ground, her cheeks pink and smile wide as her body reacted on instinct more than anything, trying to get away from the agonizing yet playful ticklish touches both of her partners were inflicting on her.

“Coochie coo, little Momo~” Jirou teased with much more ease than Todoroki could ever seem to manage; when he was the one being ganged up on he always melted at her words within seconds. He constantly marveled at how Momo seemed able to handle it. “Aw, does this tickle? Are you a little ticklish, babe?”

“Ehehehehehehehe!” Momo squealed, digging her heels into the carpeted floor. “Plehehehehehehease!”

“Oh? You want more?” Jirou looked up at Todoroki and winked, and he felt his heart flutter at the simple teasing action. “I’m sure that can be arranged, can’t it, Sho?”

Todoroki blushed but smiled and nodded all the same, tickling along with his one girlfriend while resolving to reduce his other girlfriend into a puddle of helpless cackles. “Definitely.”

*

99) Lee Deku, Ler Mina

“Your dance moves seem to be improving, but you’re still much too stiff,” Mina observed Deku with a hand to her chin, humming thoughtfully. “You’ve got to loosen up, Midoriya.”

Deku caught his breath after performing part of the dance he was learning for Mina, having asked her for some pointers. “I don’t know how,” he admitted. “I get so focused on learning the moves and doing them exactly that I tense up without realizing it. I can’t seem to relax.”

“You don’t have to do the moves exactly right,” Mina encouraged. “It’s good to know how to do them, sure, but dance is about self-expression! You should add your own flare to it, too.”

“I…I don’t know how.”

“Hmm…okay, how about this?” Mina fussed with the iPod they were playing the music from. “Start from the top, and I’ll jump in now and then to help you loosen up and add your own moves to the mix. Sound good?”

Deku nodded. “Sure! Thanks, Mina.”

“Of course! Now show me your stuff!”

Once again the music started, and Deku began dancing. To his credit, he had the moves down pretty well at this point. But there were definitely moments when Mina could tell he was focusing a little too hard. That’s when she stepped forward, pinching his sides gently to make him break form on purpose.

“Eeep!” Deku squealed, whirling on her. “W-What was that—”

“Keep dancing!” she instructed, smiling. After a moment he did as he was told, and about a minute later, she scribbled her fingers along his back to make him arch forward and break his step pattern again.

“Mihihina!” he whined, turning to look at her with a blush on his cheeks. “Why are you doing that?”

“It loosens you up, doesn’t it?” She winked. “Makes you do the dance a little differently than scripted, right?”

“W-Well…yeah, but…”

“Then consider it training.” Mina wiggled her fingers in his vision, and this time just the threat of more tickles made him twist away as he danced, creating his own flare even without being touched. “You’ll be dancing like a star in no time!”

*

100) Lee Todoroki, Ler Bakugou

“Stop squirming, I’m only holding you,” Bakugou grunted for what felt like the hundredth time after he shifted position and made Todoroki squeak and shift as well. They were cuddled on the couch, Todoroki on top of his blonde boyfriend while a movie they’d both seen several times before played almost soundlessly in the background. They mostly were just enjoying each other’s company.

“You keep tickling me,” Todoroki huffed, settling in once more. “I can’t help it.”

“You’re ridiculously ticklish, icy-hot.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious, hothead.”

Bakugou chuckled, tightening his grip on Todoroki’s waist, and suddenly the peppermint-colored boy’s heart skipped a beat. He could feel the wicked mischief radiating from his boyfriend, even if he couldn’t see his face.

“Are you really getting sassy with me right now?” Bakugou curled his fingers inward, purposely digging into his boyfriend’s sides. “That’s rather bold of you, don’t you think?”

“W-Wahahahahait,” Todoroki pleaded, already helpless with giggles. “I’m sohohohohorry!”

“Oh, you will be.” Bakugou moved so fast his boyfriend had no chance to adjust and recover. Soon Todoroki was lying on his stomach on the couch, his face pressed awkwardly into the armrest while the blonde sat on his calves to pin him down, slowly peeling off his socks.

Todoroki shrieked in excited terror, trying to roll over or buck or kick or something, but it was all useless and he knew it. His only hope now was to beg for mercy. “Nonono, please not there – not my feet, please, Kats – plehehehehehease! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Bakugou scribbled relentlessly over his bare soles, focusing on his arches, which always made him scream with laughter. “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all this racket. Quiet down, icy-hot! I’m trying to watch a movie here!”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, NOHOHOHOHOHO!! I’M SORRY, I’M SOHOHOHOHORRY!! KAHAHAHAHAHTSUKI!!”

Bakugou laughed along with his boyfriend, enjoying their time together immensely. He knew Todoroki was enjoying it, too. “You’re just so astonishingly ticklish, babe. How can I resist making you laugh a little more?”

[indianamoonshine]

solo’s copilot ♡ chapter three / “velvet things”

summary: she huffs with amusement, shaking her hand. "You're gonna get dicked down so good tonight." | the process of sex isn’t easy. and you had no idea what you’re doing. how the fuck do you avoid razor burn?

rating: m

"Ben Solo, don't you dare drop me!"

You try to sound as assertive as you could, but it was nearly impossible with the cackling erupting from you. It was the flirtatious kind of laughter - the giggles that only a partner could conjure from their lover. You squealed playfully and protested weakly by thumping your measly fists against his back. Once or twice he's had to settle you into place, grabbing ahold of your hips, and tugging you forward from eating dirt.

He's been walking leisurely back to base while tottering you over his shoulder, snickering also coming from him in a throaty way. "I'm not gonna drop you!" he returns and swats your ass for the third time. It evokes a yelp and a heated blush. He knows it, too.

"You don't know that!" you simper. "How many drinks have you had?"

Ben scoffs. "You do realize I have reflexes better than anyone you know, right?" he pauses, pleased with himself. And while you can't see his expression (from facing the ground, which very unfortunately obstructs your view), you can tell he's smirking. His voice becomes more lazy when he does and an octave lower; it's his ace-in-the-hand, but you'd never tell him that. "And besides, I'm gonna need you to be in your best condition tonight."

This elicits an instinctual whimper.

"Oh ho oh," Ben teases. "What was that?"

You pout, coquettishly of course, and wriggle in his arms. "You're making me blush."

"I intend to," he hums.

The hangar of the base is pitch-black, the only light illuminating from it from the hallway leading to the quarters. Everyone on base slept in a dormitory which was a little too crowded and, thus, woke everyone up from the slightest bit of noise. Maybe this wasn't the most ideal place to have sex - maybe this is why they made it so congested. Sex wasn't against regulation, but pregnancy got you kicked out of the Resistance and the majority didn't want to risk it. Not to say they didn't wander into the woods, disappear for a few hours, and then come back with flushed face.

Ben must've been thinking the same thing. "Should we go to the Falcon? Is that okay with you?" he pauses. "I mean, it being your first time and all..."

You try your best to swing forward to face him, but after a few attempts you give up with a sigh. He tries to contain his laughter while swinging you around and then lifting you against his chest. His forehead presses to yours and he kisses you slowly, deeply. It takes a lot for you to pull back and answer him.

"I just want you," you whisper against him.

You swear you feel his breath catch before he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. "That's what I wanted to hear," he mumbles, voice thick and skin burning beneath you. His hands grip your thighs more firmly, surely pressing his fingers into the fat so roughly that you'd bruise. Good.

You smile against his mouth. "I need to use the shower really quick."

He nods. "Of course," he breathes, heart accelerating in his chest. A wicked part of you hoped he was picturing you naked, skin wet, and flushed from heat.

"Don't take too long."

♡ ♡

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit."

As soon as you'd entered your dorm, you've stripped of your clothing and abandoned them on the floor while sprinting to the refresher. No time to waste. If you took too long you feared he'd loose interest and save it for a rainy day. Time was of the essence and that time was ticking away so loudly that you swore you could hear it. If you cracked open your head while sliding across the tile, so be it.

The shower was hot and it melted all the grime and grease you've accumulated throughout the day. You tried to focus on cleaning every crevice of your body. Every nook, every cranny - even the spots that were pretty much impossible to reach. You prayed that the sweet fragrance of the gel might cover any kind of hidden body odor you might not notice. You'd even used the gel strictly used for vaginal purposes, despite how many times you convinced yourself it was bad for you. And maybe it was, but the idea that you could smell there was almost unbearable.

The razor was taunting you as it lay on the shelf. Maybe Tasha was right - maybe you should shave. You weren't a stranger to the process, but it was a pain in the ass to deal with. You'd always gotten some sort of rash or bumps that made the entire ordeal simply fruitless so you vowed to stay away from it by whatever means. But you had this urge - this desire - to impress Ben that you were willing to go through the painfully detailed process.

Maybe Tasha had a way of avoiding razor burn. So you did the only thing you could think of.

Once stepped outside of the shower, you search for Tasha's contact on the commlink with fumbling hands. It takes a moment to connect and each beep sends a jolt of fear in your abdomen; what if she didn't answer? Who the fuck could you go to if Tasha wasn't available?

You almost give up just before she sounds at the other end of the line.

"Hey, you okay?" she asks, concern etching her tone. In the background is the raging noise of the The Water Hole. She probably thought you and Ben decided not to go through with it - at this point, you weren't sure if you'd be more disappointed or she would.

You groan, hands covering your face. "Tasha, I need help."

"What's up? Are you guys still..." she begins.

You cut her off. "Yes, yes. I'm trying to get ready and I have no idea how to avoid razor burn or whatever."

She can tell you're terrified by the way you interrupt her, your words stringing together so quickly that it was nearly impossible to understand what you were saying. She knew you well enough to know you were probably having the biggest panic attack of your life so she doesn't ask anymore questions.

"I'll be right there."

♡ ♡ ♡

Tasha has the passcode to your room so she waltzes in without buzzing.

She immediately gets to work, rummaging around your drawers and shelves as you sit in the center of the room, knees brought up to your chest. The towel is now dripping wet from your sopping head of hair, causing you to shiver from the dampness. Once she finds a bottle of oil, she tosses it to you and you manage to catch it as she fetches a jar of lotion, bacta gel, and the razor.

She kneels in front of you, presenting the two items. "Pirum oil stops bumps. Bacta gel avoids rash. And lotion makes it smooth." She sets the items on the ground. "Draw a bath real quick and shave underneath the water."

"Okay..." you say, heading to the tub and turning the knob. When you find her leaving for your bedroom you fearfully shriek, "Where are you going?!"

Tasha yells from the other room. "Do you have a t-shirt of Ben's?!"

"Uh..." you think for a minute, slipping into the water and begin to prep like she said to. "I don't think so."

You hear her groan a little, drawers slamming shut, and the mechanics of your closet doors opening. "What about a.." she stops short and then chuckles manically.

"What?!" you ask, cringing as you begin to shave. What a mess.

Tasha says cheerfully, "You're such a fuckin' liar!"

Any and all ideas as to what she means swim through your mind. What the hell was she talking about? "I don't...what?!" Maybe you did have a t-shirt of his?

"Ah ha!" she jubilantly exclaims. "You're more of a minx as you let on!"

You're becoming annoyed by how she dances around her mysterious finding. You growl, "Shut up and tell me!"

Footsteps quickly sound about the room and she returns with a pair of panties and a bra you'd never seen before in your life. They were brand new too, the security tag hanging limply and the price on it proclaiming a whopping 229 credits. It was a matching set, emerald green, with the thick straps holding up the cups graced with delicate lace. The panties were high waisted, lacy as well, but velvet and incredibly soft. By the cost alone you knew it was high end, but the fabric was stunning - you knew the difference between cheap and...well...not so cheap.

Your jaw drops and you almost cut yourself with the blade in your hand. "What the fuck."

Tasha giggles with excitement as you sit still in the water, body paralyzed with something you've never experienced before, and heart thumping violently against your ribcage. Were you having a heart attack? Is this what cardiac arrest feels like? She hands you a piece of parchment paper that's folded neatly with your name written on it by a skilled hand. Parchment. Calligraphy. Ben.

You blush. It creeps on your cheeks before you can even control it. You take a deep, unstable breath and carefully peel open the letter. You bite your lip as you read his message, his handwriting flawless and legible:

For when the time is right.

As you stare at the letter, you gulp and pray that Tasha can't see the drool of your pussy beneath the water. You fold the note closed and give it back to her with trembling hands as your way of giving her permission to read it. She does, eyes scanning the simple promise, and raises a hand to cover her mouth in awe. It takes a lot to impress Tasha, so you know that you're not overreacting when she raises her eyebrows and chuckles under her breath.

She huffs with amusement, shaking her hand. "You're gonna get dicked down so good tonight."

You want to interject but you can't. She's right and there's no use in denying it. Your fear has risen to inhumane levels and you imagine sirens going off in your head, your nerves alighting with an all consuming fire. He's about to give you a fucking orgasm and he hasn't even touched you yet. How could you possibly live up to his expectations? His experience was way out of your league and his ability to swoon you by just a handwritten note - something that wasn't ever practiced in society anymore - was overwhelming. He'd taken his time out to pick out this lingerie, to sit down and write you a goddamned letter, and you're, what? Shaving for him?

Tasha urges you with the wave of her hands. "Come on! Hurry up! You cannot keep this man waiting any longer."

So you do. And, strangely enough, you're satisfied with the result. Tasha's hoe-tip had actually worked and you were smooth as baby's bottom. Before she left, she picked out the perfume you "absolutely had to wear", kissed you on the cheek and said, "Tonight is gonna turn you into a slut and I cannot wait!" while walking out the door.

And then you were alone.

All is silent. Tasha can't hype you up anymore - that was solely up to you now. You stare at the lingerie laid out on the bed in all its exorbitant glory while feeling ridiculously inadequate of putting it on your body. You wanted to wear - really. But could you pull it off well enough to alight something in Ben? You try to convince yourself you could - that he bought you this with you in mind. He'd never seen you naked before, so how the hell would he know? What if his idea of you was way off? It probably was. Ben's laid with many women, including Rey, who had the kind of body that one saw in Twi'lek porn.

"Don't be a fucking coward," you scold yourself, reaching for the set.

You slip it on carefully to avoid any kind of rip in the seam and it hits you then that Ben had guessed your size and he'd guessed it...perfectly. Had he figured out your measurements just by watching you move? Had he gawked over you enough that he did the math in his head until he was satisfied? Did this mean he was aware of what you may look like underneath your clothes? Surely he had. And you didn't know what to think of that; how Ben's eyes have wandered and studied the way your ass curved or how your breasts filled out your tops.

Oh, gods. He knew your fucking body before laying bared hands on it.

But this swells you with pride. Suddenly, you felt more beautiful than you had in your life, like you were some sort of ethereal being that he worshipped silently. You tug on the bra as quickly as you can without damaging it and, sure enough, your breasts fit perfectly within the cups; no spillage or tightness that caused overflow on your back. The mirror against your wall reflects back at you a woman you didn't recognize because she looked confident. Satisfied. Even your skin glowed, all imperfections seemed to have disappeared along with the damage of your hair. It was luscious, full, and rich in color even after drying it on the highest temperature. Your eyes sparkled bright and bushy tailed as you gawk over your own reflection.

You couldn't wait anymore. You grab your robe (which is literally the most inconspicuous piece of clothing you wore, as it was littered with holes and frayed string) and sprint out into the hangar.

It was there where The Falcon sat alight, glowing with warmth, and waiting impatiently for your arrival.

[ussgallifrey]

Winter Wonderland

✦ Summary: Bucky awakens to the aftermath of a blizzard and several eager children begging to go outside. ✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader ✦ Word Count: 1.6k ✦ Author’s Note: I was working on a Steve/Reader oneshot, and then it snowed and my husband took our oldest outside to build a snowman and this happened. 

The heavy blanket of sleep is broken by the shimmering light dancing off the windowpane. Dreams pull away with a hazy tide, reality tugs him closer. The air is chilled, and he has half the mind to tuck his nose down into the pillow - seeking out a bit of warmth in the otherwise frigid room. 

Next to him, under the sheets and blankets and crocheted blanket, you doze on. Not even slightly bothered by the drop in temperature. Though perhaps that was just him, with a body more susceptible to the sharp aches and pains of a cold day.

Your chest rises and falls with a steady beat, constant and encompassing of something bright in his morning-haggard mind. Bucky watches you sleep, traces the curve of your body, turned away from him like you had been when you had first fallen asleep. Curled into his side, one hand on your hip and the other above your head.

Only now, he wants to draw you back in. Savor that easy comfort of his wife’s warmth pressed into him. Wake you with kisses and praise and everything he can give. But you deserve more, so much more. And sleep is a precious commodity these days, one he will gladly give above all else if given the chance.

Lazy thoughts intrude his mind as he dips his hand down, just cupping the curve of your protruding bump. That gorgeous swell under the delicate fabric of your nightgown. It makes his head go all fuzzy at the thought of another little Barnes. Right there under his palm, gently kicking away.

He has half a mind to tell the kid off, to let you sleep a while longer. But there’s a sudden clatter in the room next door. Bucky can hear an excited squeal followed by a series of hushes. Rubbing the swell of your belly one last time, he finally extracts himself from the covers and is hit with an instant blast of cold. The housecoat at the end of the bed will do little to fend off the temperature, but at least it’s something.

Pausing outside of the door, Bucky listens to the muffled voices inside. When he opens it rather suddenly, he finds George and Ruthie trying to corral Richie down from his perch on the bookcase. 

“Daddy,” his daughter is quick to lament. “We tried to get him down, honest. We weren’t trying to wake Mama.”

It takes three strides to cross the room and pull the second youngest down, depositing him in a fit of giggles onto his bed.

“Come on, you’re gonna wake Mom!” George hushes harshly with a finger drawn to his lips. 

That perks the four-year-old right up, unfortunately, “I wanna see Mama.”

Bucky pulls him back by the collar of his pajamas before he can make it a second step across the floor. Hands under the arms and Richie is brought to his lap. Staring down at identical blue eyes, he ruffles the mop of hair on his son’s head.

“What were you doing up there anyway, bud?”

His eyes widen with pure wonder, “Snowing outside! ”

He clambers up on his feet, straining to look out the window. Bucky cranes his neck and ends up standing just to look out. Past the iced-over pane, he can just make out the opposite row of Brownstones. But between them is a thick blanket of snow. Beautiful and glittering in the morning light. Not a soul in sight, or car for that matter.

In fact, he peers down the street, catching the glimmer of one buried under a substantial amount of snow. The news had called for a storm, but he hadn’t been expecting this much.

“Dad,” George beckons with a hopeful tone, holding Mary on his hip. “Can we go?”

The kids seem to surround him in a moment of pouted lips and pleading eyes. And all he sees is your face reflected back, and he’s never been able to say no to you - it certainly wouldn’t change with your kids.

After a relenting yes, they scatter off in search of clothes and boots. A bathroom trip for Ruth and a diaper change for Mary. He slips back into the sanctuary of the bedroom to find you, thankfully, undisturbed. Trousers on and suspenders snapped in place. Bucky snatches the knitted scarf from the heat register where it had been drying overnight.

Coats checked, buttons realigned, gloves and mittens tightened and boots double knotted, and lastly a hat for each head. George leads the way, taking the first step into the freshly fallen snow. It crunches under his feet as the rest of the clan makes their way out of the house.

Richie bounces with glee and Mary nearly falls out of Bucky’s grip in her state of wonderment, trying to grab the snow from the railing. The steps are covered, almost to Richie’s knee, but a path is quickly made, and once they’re on the sidewalk, Bucky lets them loose.

They seem entirely unsure at first - as if they were disturbing a moment of full tranquility. But the moment quickly passes when a handful of snow is thrown. And then eager shrieks and screams give way.

From there, the neighborhood seems to awaken. Stumbling out into the remnants of the blizzard with curious expressions and amazement. The kids all run off in different directions. A snowball fight ensues by the corner, Ruthie seems to have traveled off to make snow angels away from the chaos. Some of them are trying to slide down the back of snow-covered cars to surprisingly good results.

He watches from the sidewalk, shoveling a path with a languid pace. No need to rush, the streets wouldn’t be cleared for a day, if not longer. For now, it was a true winter wonderland.

Mary wanders back over to his side. Cherub cheeks have gone red, with a bright nose to match. He can’t help the smile that bubbles up at the sight of her. So, he gets down at her level and lets her nuzzle her face into the shirt under his opened wool coat.

A snowman, small and modest, is done up at the bottom of the stairs, just beyond the sidewalk. In perfect view of a certain window. They convince him to give up his hat, and he does. Forgoing the provided warmth for their delight. 

They all seem quite proud of their work, scattering off shortly after, joining in on the pulled sled race at the end of the street. 

Bucky surveys the scene, catching a glimpse of each child happily lost in the bliss of winter snow. Slowly, he turns, following the wisp of breath caught in the air. And then he lands on you.

Staring out the bedroom window, you give a little wave. And with a rather foolish grin on his face, he waves back. You’re covering your mouth with your hand, an amused look playing in your eyes. He wants to walk back inside, swoop you into his arms and make you startle with the chill of his lips. But a fat glob of snow is hurled at the back of his head.

Frozen ice drips down his neck and seeps into his coat, he startles with a rough and undignified gasp. Chasing after the brave boy who had dared to throw it. Launching over the drifts, he catches George by the waist and hauls him over his back with screams of protest.

When the sun is high in the sky, they make their way back inside. Some protesting, some grateful (him, mostly). You greet them with a kiss as you pull each wet hat off their head. Pressing painted lips to rosy cheeks. He gets the longest, of course. Cupping that beautiful curve of stomach resting between you as you rustle his untamed trusses, damp from the snow.

“Couldn’t even warn a fella,” he accuses lightly, tapping the tip of your nose with a cold finger.

You give a little pout, your eyes sparkle, “And here I thought my husband could handle the savage marauders.”

His hands settle on your hips, swaying lightly in the entryway as the kids deposit their coats and boots by the fireplace.

“They’re ruthless, darlin’. Absolutely ruthless.”

As if to further his point, Richie comes running over with a roar. His hands and face are freezing as they slam into Bucky’s chest. He can’t help the gasp of air that catches in his throat. You smile down at him before sweeping the four-year-old to the kitchen table where you have a spread awaiting them. 

And, oh yes, coffee. 

You patiently listen to each story, of glorious adventures in the snow. Chiding lightly, reprimanding here, swiping a napkin over sticky fingers and stained lips there. You move with a grace and ease that he’ll never achieve. And with that glorious bump impeding your movement to boot!

Bucky’s content to just watch the scene play out. Of two children reeling over a full day off from school with a seemingly endless bounty of opportunities awaiting them outside the door. You catch his gaze across the table.

As much as he would have loved to stay in that heavenly bed with you all morning, knowing you got a small reprieve from the usual madness is enough to make Bucky feel truly content. He nurses his mug of steaming hot brew, holding your stare. Your eyes glisten with something sweet. 

And later, when the kids are rushing back outside and he’s got you well and truly wrapped up in his arms, he preens. Not a bad way to start the day, indeed.

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[ahziel]

Tender Ache

Tw: forced feminization, noncon, implied torture

For @p-totel, @qouii and @salty-squid-queen, who are all awful enablers 

Theon couldn’t draw in enough oxygen, but that didn’t stop his lungs from trying. Shallow, straining breaths in and out. Tears gummed up his eyelashes. They clumped together when he blinked.

Kneeling over him, Ramsay smoothed his large hands up the streamlined shape of Theon’s waist, cinched and pinched as it was in the crushing grip of the corset.

“This is a good look for you, love,” he said, settling his hands into the dips of Theon’s hipbones. He stroked over the divots once with his thumbs. “It does wonders for your silhouette.” Mirth danced in his eyes and there was a cruel pinch to his smile. “Aren’t you happy I brought it home for you to wear with your dress, darling?”

Four months ago, Theon would have spat in his face for the condescending talk. Now, he fixed his eyes on the cabin’s support beams, counting their number. Maybe if he was boring, Ramsay would leave him alone. Sometimes that worked.

Usually, it didn’t. 

Judging by the jingle of the handcuffs that kept his wrists pinned above him to the headboard, he wasn’t optimistic about his chances.

Ramsay’s grip around his waist tightened. The added pressure was unbearable. Theon writhed abortively and gasped, “Yes,” just to make him stop.

“Yes…?”

Theon’s eyes burned. “Yes, love.” A pregnant silence. Fear churned in Theon’s gut. What else did Ramsay want him to say? He wracked his brain, stumbling through the slow fog that had crept in over the past few weeks. “I—I like it.”

Ramsay was still watching expectantly, ice-chip eyes glittering.

Theon moistened his lips. “It makes—it makes me feel small.” Inwardly, he cringed at himself. 

A smile broke out across Ramsay’s face. He lowered himself with a whumph to the mattress so that his wide chest shouldered open Theon’s legs. His breath gusted over Theon’s flat groin, concealed as it was under the gossamer-thin layers of the godawful pink dress he’d been forced into.

“My pretty darling,” Ramsay said, turning to brush his lips over the inside of Theon’s thigh. He closed his eyes for a moment, which was good, because it meant he missed Theon’s shudder. “Beautiful sweet girl. You’ve been so good for me. You deserve a reward.”

And so saying, he leaned forward to press his lips against—against that shameful spot, the area Theon tried to never think about and barely even looked at, even when washing himself. The light pressure, though muffled through the dress, was unbearable.

“No!” the sob wrenched out of him. Theon yanked at the handcuffs. “Ramsay—please, please, please don’t—”

“You know how I feel about ‘please,’” Ramsay reminded him absently as he moved his lips over the area. One eye cracked open; Theon felt like a butterfly fixed to a corkboard. His teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. As jumbled and disorganized as his thoughts were these days, he could not figure out how to word his pleas in a way that would make Ramsay listen.

Don’t bother touching me there, husband, let me use my mouth, maybe, except Ramsay had already used his mouth earlier today after Theon finished washing up the breakfast dishes.

Let me give you a handjob instead, except Theon’s remaining fingers were stiff and clumsy with pain.

I’d rather you beat me, except Theon was still recovering from the last one.

“No need to be shy, needy girl,” Ramsay murmured, and slipped both hands under the dress’s hem. They were ice-cold against his bare skin and crept up his thighs like fat white spiders. His hands were large enough, or maybe Theon’s thighs were wasted enough, that only a few inches of space remained between the ring made by his fingers. They pulled the hem of the dress up with them until Theon felt the kiss of cold air on that area and knew the fabric had been bunched at his waist.

Theon bit his lip so hard he bled. Of course he had seen the mutilation, in those awful months after its infliction. Usually when he was changing or figuring out how to relieve himself, even if it made his head hurt to see the injury. Ramsay had left his balls. Above them was a swollen bump of gnarled scar tissue—the remainder of the root of his cock. 

When a warm, wet tongue touched the shiny scar there, Theon shrieked.

“Sensitive,” Ramsay remarked, and bent back to his task. His tongue traced a slow, back-and-forth path, applying even pressure. Most of the nerve endings were too damaged to work properly anymore, but some still did, and in comparison to the dead zones, they felt like livewire sparks whenever Ramsay’s tongue glided over them. 

Theon tossed his head into the pillows fitfully. He wanted to bite into something, anything, to muffle his noises, but he couldn’t reach his arm. His brain couldn’t seem to make sense of the sensation. Cold, then hot, agony like a raw wound and then glitters of aching pleasure. Propped over Ramsay’s shoulder, his foot kicked helplessly.

“Is this how you pleasured those other girls?” Ramsay whispered into his freshly-wetted skin. “What was your technique, I wonder?” 

Somehow, the reminder of Theon’s past sexual encounters hurt even worse than the touch. Tears blurred his vision and streaked down his temples into his wild sweat-damp hair, spread out on the pillow. He wanted to sob, but his lungs couldn’t draw in enough air to do so.

Another touch entered the mix. Ramsay had wormed his hand up between his thighs, and now was pressing with his fingers in tight little circles over one of the live zones while his tongue darted in between them. Theon’s hips tilted up, stiff so that Ramsay’s touch would stay right there, right there—

Theon didn’t recognize the sound that dragged out of him. It belonged to an injured animal. 

Ramsay had to pause for a moment so he could hide his snicker in Theon’s thigh. “Do you like it when I touch your clitty?” When he looked back at Theon’s flushed face, he’d composed himself. “Communication is important, love. You can’t use your hands right now, so I need you to tell me what you want.” He paused, did another tight circle with his fingers. Theon’s hips jumped. “Where do you want me to touch you?”

It had been months since Theon felt any pleasure at all, and longer still since his body had had its chance to reach completion. The confusing mix of pleasure and pain crowded out all shame and dignity. He couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. In that moment, he wanted more than anything to shove his fingers in front of Ramsay’s and do it for himself, form a fist that he could rock against maybe—

“High—higher,” he choked, breathless, loathing himself. Ramsay obeyed his instructions and Theon moaned, a thin, helpless noise, thighs spreading wider in the tight confines of the bunched up dress. Spots of black swam at the edge of his vision. “Ah, to the right—lighter—y-your tongue, gods—” 

As he spoke, a sudden memory flashed in front of his eyes: him, holding a girl’s soft thighs apart so he could give it to her wet folds with long licks of his tongue while she squealed and pulled at his hair. He’d been so good at oral, every one of his partners had told him so. To be on the receiving end, in that disgusting spot of his body…his muscles clenched up in horror. For a moment, he wondered if he might be sick. Would that even stop Ramsay? 

Between his legs, Ramsay was going at it enthusiastically with long drags of the flat of his tongue. Sometimes he’d alternate, shaping it into a harder point and laving the tip in the gaps between his massaging fingers. Everything was so slippery now. Theon had a brief, delirious impression that somehow, he really did have a cunt down there—that Ramsay had reached in and sliced him open and rearranged his flesh until it was just the way he liked. In that disorienting second, he hated Ramsay more intensely than he ever had before, so much so that the feeling transcended itself and circled right back into a confusing, cringing adoration.

“Oh, gods,” he heard himself say, tortured. Another hard circle of Ramsay’s fingers. He tried to buck up, but couldn’t, stopped by the handcuffs. “Gods!” 

Something was building in his groin. It had been so long since he’d felt any real pleasure that for a few heartbeats, he thought it was the insistent demands of his bladder. But no, it was the heavy tide of warmth he remembered, starting at his groin and melting throughout the rest of his body. He curled up as much as he was able to between the handcuffs and the corset. Now that he recognized the sensation, it seemed to rise even faster, rushing through his toes and ears and even the ends of his hair—

Ramsay pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the scar and sucked, one long, perfect pulse.

Theon came.

It wasn’t exactly the way he remembered it, but gods, it was good, so good. The thin muscles in his hamstrings trembled uncontrollably and his toes curled. Through the sea of white-hot pleasure, he was vaguely horrified by the sensation of warm liquid seeping down his thighs.

“You’re leaking!” Ramsay said, delighted. “You really do come like a girl now!” He laughed cruelly, rubbing Theon’s release between his fingers.

Theon barely heard him. The orgasm still had him in its wave. There was no room for thought of anything else. The grey tinge to his vision seemed to expand like soft down, covering his eyes and muffling his ears. He could not breathe.

Far away, he felt Ramsay wipe his fingers clean on the dress, and then the numb softness swept over his skin and severed that feeling too. Theon gratefully tipped backwards into unconsciousness and knew no more.

[profoundchaoscomputer]

As time goes on

Summary:

“I will say this: I’m happy to be here with Jack. With you. And I love you. I love you both.”

This is a short fic Kate(@rathxritter) and me, Trev(@profoundchaoscomputer) wrote for the Destiel Partner Project (@destiel-partner-project). Thank you so much for this opportunity!

Kate, you were an awesome partner, all of our ideas complimented each other so well that that adding stuff and editing from you or me was always a delight, thank you so much!--Trev

Fic under the cut, alternatively you can also read it here https://archiveofourown.org/works/30576530

As time goes on

Late November. Knotty and naked branches tower themselves against the sky, dark outlines in the afternoon sun. The ground is covered in leaves and the grass is barely visible like winks of a long gone summer, spotted amidst the sea of warmer colors - yellow, orange, red and rich browns seem to make the universe that time of the year. It's a breathtaking and ordinary scenery, autumn always is. Everyday beauty is often taken for granted, but for Cas it will always be a new miracle. The sidewalk, on the other hand, is mostly clear, yet there are some areas of it where the leaves remain untouched, rotting away as they are being walked on, cracking under people's shoes as their heels click on the pavement.

Sometimes Cas thinks he is like those yellow checkered rooting away leaves.

...Once had he basked on the glory of a foolish leaf, proud stagnant, evergreen, timeless, aimless, clutching blindly to the tree, rain, wind, snow, only knowing of heaven above, but never about the dirt of the ground...to be still is to be alive?

Only after he fell, he understood, to fall is to become alive, it hurts, unthetered, weightful death sentence, to decide to root away.

And it took too much time to realize, but isn't all life beautiful because it's so ephemeral? so the past is treasured, today is a miracle, and tomorrow is a gift: to become a golden leaf and covered in spots, proof of every breath, copper, orange, red. The leaves fall and Cas falls, wrinkles and lines, aching muscles and tender joints, alone at times, but now trying something, with Dean, Jack, a family found along the way. Dancing along the wind, against tempest and arid times, getting muddy and dirtied, alive, along warm gusts and gentle times, and becoming crumpled leafs, laughing and crying at the mercy of time.

So times moves and flows away and now is a worthy day to note, It's a sunny day, as warm as the later autumn afternoon allows, and the, otherwise clear blue sky, is studded with some solitary clouds - dirty white that verges on grey, they look as if someone painted them on a canvas using the finest watercolours and the most exquisite brushwork. 

It's a sunny day and the air smells of rotten apples, oozing resin, and frost. It's the smell of death and destruction, of glimmering hope. A welcoming smell, the smell of life, so lulling and comforting, that fills people's nostrils as they go on with their day. The smell of home, an active reminder that life is to be treasured.

"How does the story end?" asks Jack as he hands Cas a paper bag, the bookshop's logo printed on it with bright red letters.  

"How do you want it to end?" Cas asks, smiling.

He knows the stories that Dean tells Jack, the ones he half reads and ends up making as he goes, stuffing in his own share for who knows what reasons. The thing is they both laugh and the red hooded girl surely doesn't have a shapeshifter, last time he checked. Overheard some of them while passing through the small living room in order to get outside and speak on the phone with Sam. 

It's their thing and he tries not to cross lines and wriggle in - Dean tells stories and does all the voices, Jack laughs, Dean laughs: a complete picture that doesn't quite need him there, an intimate bubble of two as he has his own with Dean and another one with Jack too and its Dean's "job" to put Jack to sleep. So he doesn't ask, Dean doesn't speak about it. It's healthy for Jack to grow different relationships with them on their own.

 Still, he does know about them and listens more often than he would care to admit, from behind the door, feeling like a stranger in his own house.

 About the ordinary tales of overcoming evil and suddenly there are Vampires and Djins and it's always about not giving up no matter how scared and angry one may feel. It's about children being allowed to be children even in a world of danger and Dean's voice oozing vulnerability as well as hurt. 

There were times he had considered taking his hand only to step away before he could be seen, Dean has allowed himself to be this vulnerable in front of Jack as his own kin. He couldn't mess up this trust and growth with selfishness.

Jack looks down distractedly and kicks some leaves, causing them to rustle, crack and scatter. Soon enough found a clump of leaves and decided it was good enough to swim on them. It's the contrast that makes Cas think and stop a bit, Jack so joyful on a blanket of cracked corpses, life playing with death, handfuls of leaves on Jack's hands, a handful of ashes, ashes to ashes, a pool of dead yet life stills blooms so beautifully and hopeful, death and creation, hand by hand, as time goes by. 

"I don't know," says Jack as he picks up an acorn from the mess he just made and studies it attentively before stuffing it into the pocket of his Jacket. Lately, they've been the hiding place of all sorts of hidden treasures - acorns, buttons, funny looking rocks, and empty shells - later taken out and displayed on the shelves in his bedroom, right next to his Paddington books and carved animal statuettes.

He laughs, "Dean always puts a lot of death in them."

"Does he?" asks Cas.

"Sometimes they are all alone. I don't mind, they make me want to live!" he says, his chirpy laughter echoing through the air, soon followed by thunderous stomping: Wellington boots, yellow with a bee pattern printed on them, splashing water from a puddle on the grass.

Castiel sighs and carefully sits down on the battered bench in the small park. Its wood is ruined and the paint is peeling off and soft moss is thriving in those places where the material never quite manages to completely dry off. A wet bench, but still appreciates it with a crack of back bones.

"Well," he says, holding back a grimace of pain. "I think you and Dean may both be right when you say that it's about feeling alive."

Jack nods solemnly in agreement. "And what about the children? They climb trees and drink lemonade, but what happens after that."

"They do everything their own way and they are good at that."

"Dean can do it better." Jack puffs loudly.

"Then you should ask him as soon as he comes back." Cas smiles.

"I think I will. Can I give you something?" asks Jack.

"Yes, of course."

"I'll get it soon," he says and walks away, running around through the leaves, freely, squealing in delight.

A knot forms at the back of Cas's throat as he watches his son play in the autumn scenery. Life and death keeping each other company, effortlessly interconnected in an endless cycle. So loud the sound of his youth, Jack waranders off, bubbling with raw energy, entropic in a contagious way that Cas can't help but melt a bit on this warm brightness and he laughs too. Bittersweet, yeah, that's life for you. Something hopeful, the sound of a child's laughter and his fatherly love, brightening everything  - precious and blossoming, always, amidst death and horror preventing the future from turning into ashes and mingling as equal with the past.

"This is for you," says Jack, out of breath, proud, stretching out his arm and handing Castiel a yellow leaf with green edges. "You can press it and frame it like they showed me in school."

"Thank you, Jack. This is... lovely. This is lovely, I like it." He smiles softly, fondness washing over him.

He looks at the gift, studying it as he turns it around, and wonders how much Jack knows about his own state. Does he know he chose to be a rooting away leaf too?

Cas fell, a long time ago, changing so completely, that his former self is nothing but a distant memory. Now Cas can look at the situation with more clarity of judgement, as he clearly lacked for more time than he could care to admit: in falling, he became alive and while it hurt and had at some point felt like a death sentence, life was, is, and will be beautiful with its alternating ups and downs.

 But again, being alive is always too much, so stuffed with messy feelings, whirling fiery tempest, it becomes crowded, on edge, flammable as well as vulnerable, scalding in a slow simmering way, such that he would call worse than falling.

 Meeting for the first time fear in a not immediate war or easily numbing adrenaline to survive, and thus being laid bare to see himself in the mirror and being bombarded with all the truths he didn't want to hear, scared of being alone, despite having Jack, Dean, and everyone else too; afraid of this too good looking second chance usually so monomaniacally forbidden and his guilt biting so hard he feels like choking on every breath, whispering his worst thoughts, over and over like broken record, all his faults, all his "greater good" soaking his hands in blood, what is to deserve when one has betrayed, what is a right when one has killed and done the unspeakable, what is to have freedom when each breath tastes of regret, what is peace when silence draws despair. On top of it now powerless, his own human body with the aching joints and cold bones… being at the mercy of time rather than being above it.

Because time now moves and flies away, slipping through his finger. Ticked away by clocks. Irrevocable hours leaden circles travelling through the air and ultimately dissolving. 

Blinding shrieks of fear and self consciousness slowly started to become a hum and then days turn into weeks and weeks into months, one season following the other and the world changing, subtly at first, adjusting to the rising and dropping temperature and the inclement weather. Too hot and then too cold, and the months of adjustment in between for a couple of weeks with perfect temperatures and no sudden changes. Soon, it will be winter once more: the first frost has already started to beautify the windows, leaving white and translucent intricate patterns on glass, and the weather is changing - rain and strong winds as announced by the weather forecast daily after the six o’clock news.

Some of it, he'll never get back. Those sorry months and years he'd relive by reentering the moment and changing it radically from within by doing everything right are long out of question and he wouldn't risk fate and destiny to make a miracle again to break from Chuck's narrative. This time, he'd do everything right by being less prideful and avoid arguments to grow bigger and bigger until the smallest of things, enlarged in disproportion, left nothing but annoyance and anger in their wake - arguments breaking like thunder, rumbling, filling the air and making it unbearable to stand there and wonder, even for just a moment, whether love may not remain buried one day, out of reach.

The first year had been the most difficult: they had discovered at their own expense that love declarations and dreams of a speckless wonderful future were hardly enough and never actually helped in making things easier. Nothing would ever be enough. One simple truth then, which they had learned the hard way: happy endings did not exist, only endings, and even those were neutral and subject to change. No happy ever afters that tied up all ends at the last page, no sweetly dull every day epilogue. Life simply kept going, as ugly as it was before, as beautiful as it was before. They kept being the same people they were before, with all their faults and virtues, all their nightmares and dreams. Defeating the "biggest bad of the book" did not erase all of their inner troubles, maybe one or two, yes, but how many more were inside of each of them?

Dean's fear of abandonment and Cas' own desperate need to be useful had proven to be the most explosive and dangerous mix. And thing is, they couldn't forgive each other, not a particular one big reason, just too many piled up and carried over the years and while they could forget and move on, deep in their heart they couldt forgive, not really, and the topics they so desperately tried to ignore stood in their way, holding them back.

So twelve months of Castiel repeatedly leaving, he needed to hunt, to be useful, got himself head first into the line of fire so to see that his hands, while bloody, still saved lifes; sound of gunshot to shush his mind out of the accusing mirror, a warrior will always be a warrior and he had been a commander of garrisons, and so he went out and jumped from hunt to hunt with all kinds of hunter strangers until exhaustion could give him a good night sleep, weeks upon weeks  and Dean's accusations following him out of the door, you'll always abandon me.

So twelve months of Dean drinking, as Cas's remarks no doubt rung in his ears, you're slowly becoming like your father. Dean didn't know what to do with his life, depression weighing him down so hard there were only some days he could get himself out of bed, tearing at the seams without a fight to pull himself together and so he drank, Cas's words ringing into his head like poison along the bitter aftertaste of a finished bottle.

 Neither of them should have said those things although he couldn't find the strength to do anything but hold his refusal to stand on Jack's side against Dean. Dean should have asked him to stay, he should have made it clear that there was no need to be useful in order to stick around. A vicious cycle, separating them more and more, and not quite a trial - had it been one, there wouldn't have been one person who wasn’t guilty.

The second year had no room for openings, just anger as they moved like in a quagmire, the snappiness of the first year replaced with inertia. Dean threw himself into work, dirt on his jeans. Cas went to the bunker with Jack and a duffle bag stuffed with their belongings. The bunker had become some sort of hunter's sanctuary and he enjoyed the work. They did talk, but simply not enough, and refused to show themselves vulnerable - no mutual consolation, no touching, and the frail assumption that they were still on each other’s side crumbling in front of them and leaving them dismayed.

After two and a half years, on a ghastly hot summer evening, Dean leapt for the first time, really, showing nothing but fearfulness and saying, as he looked at Castiel stripping in front of him, were you going to tell me that you almost died or… It had been an accusation, the tone used made it clear, the half healing wound still patched on Cas's side inbeetwen them and their heavy silence, but there had been something else too - genuine worry and affection. They had shared a bullet of a look. Then they had kissed, desperately, hungrily, and had sex - consuming their relationship: They understood it and enjoyed it, but were still out of their depths when it came to the rest: awkwardness settling as soon as they were back in their clothes. He and Jack had left the following morning and the rest of the year had been spent abroad working on helping the international community of hunters to create a network bound to help supernatural creatures rather than killing them.

It had been the year of endless night and unsparing insomnia, wondering how to rebuild a relationship when you were also mourning one? Different versions of themselves are forever lost in time, the angel and the soldier boy, the runaway and the righteous man, the falling and the protagonist. He had spent so much time looking for something, a warning sign that they had somehow ended that loop of misery, to face the present and stop grieving the past, sorrow and unhappiness that he hadn’t actively recognized the beginning of it all, only widening the gap further. Polished surfaces and volcanoes inside - a mess of feelings, a mess of thoughts, and no way to escape them and make sense of it all. They had been prisoners of their own fears and their history had stood between them. They had spent the end of the year, retreating: each question met either by silence or elusive answers that ultimately meant nothing. It had been fake and lacked depth, the peace they tried to build when both lacked courage: they had built up a facade and spent their time together pretending that they could start from scratch. They couldn’t. He was still angry at Dean, Dean waa still angry for a multitude of reasons Cas didn't even want to know, and still for what happened with Jack, Cas didn’t dare breathe a word. And every word that wasn't about the truth, it was another shovel to bury the thing that was between them.

At the end of the third year, they had come back and they had stayed at the bunker for two whole weeks rather than a couple of days.

He had spent some ten months trying to find the right words to tell Dean that he was considering hunting less and less - wounds healed too slowly and he wasn't getting any younger. He had tentatively enquired about Dean only to find out that Dean was doing better - therapy and AA meetings and the Impala had been sold to some teenage girls. They had met, Castiel had asked about Dean’s new lodgings, Dean told him. Dinner. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. On and on like starting from scratch. Things settled, slowly, by falling into place and one night Dean asked him to sleep in his room rather than on the sofa and they talked, opened their hearts, raw and exposed, the darkness making it less awkward and easier: like talking to the idea of a person, depersonalization at its best, a space that had welcomed them and liked them as much as they liked it. Hours passed and in the morning things were different - calmer, easier. They had no more tears left to cry and no more apologies to make.

It seems almost impossible now, four years on, to remember life as it was in all its tiniest details - the bigger picture there, but lacking the intrigue and the excitement there might have been on different occasions. It’s no longer bloody and vengeful, an endless and vicious cycle where violence only led to more violence, spiralling out of control and slipping away, out of fingers, no way out. The feeling of it is familiar yet new, something that he had a long time ago, perhaps briefly, a fading memory that never existed, to begin with, secluded to the realm of dreams and conditionals. Something missing, always and unconsciously so, the feeling of longing always blooming in his chest: for something. Pointing his finger and putting a name to it is easier now as things slowly begin to come into shape.

Castiel closes his eyes, tilting his head back, chin held up high. The sun is warm on his skin, shining in through the naked branches, but his cheeks are reddened by the cold. Wrapped in his winter coat already, all buttoned up and one hand stuffed in his pockets. The sunbeams look golden and create dancing shadows on the ground, and he just stays there, still and motionless, and at peace, as he listens to Jack play in front of him.

Somewhere, through open windows, a song plays faintly though he may just be imagining it, lyrics echoing in his mind for days on end. Come and take my whole life, you are everything I want. You are everything… Mulling over them and wondering, impossible to stop, rolling and rapid. It’s peacefulness as if he spent an entire afternoon crying while sitting on a chair, though he can’t really claim to be an expert on the subject. It’s contentment and residual happiness that sometimes mixes with annoyance and anger, arguments breaking out like thunder, rumbling. Yet, still, love and happiness at simply existing, being alive, being human. The fullest and most satisfying existence, feeling things, and waking up in the morning with the sun shining in through the window, filtering through the curtains and painting the room gold as dust dances in the air in a mesmerizing pattern. Next to Dean too, a couple of moments in amicable silence before the day begins - lying there, mouth filled with the metallic taste of sleep, lazily and whispering, good morning. Time for healing.

When he opens his eyes again, the air is luminous, like St. James’ Street on a summer morning right after a decent drizzle. The light reflects on every surface and makes the air appear bright and filled with light, the edges of reality seem softened and the appearance is almost dreamlike. From down the street, Dean walking towards them holding the bags with the shopping.

“Look at who’s coming,” he says, catching Jack’s attention.

“Dean!” squeals Jack, delighted, as he runs towards him.

“Cas. No need to get up, just make us some space, will you?” Dean replies as he puts the shopping bags down, leaning them against the bench's legs. Then, before taking Jack into his arms, holding him close, he kisses Castiel’s cheek and adds, “Jack, buddy, I’ve missed you too. I’ve got something for the two of you.”

“What’s that?”

“Wait,” He stretches his arm out. “Here you go. First tangerine of the year, not too expensive. Hell, thought we deserve some after everything we went through.”

“I want a segment!” Yells Jack. Jack grabs for the piece of fruit in Dean’s hand, looking at it with fascination and entertainment at the uneven sphere of the citrus, before handing it over to Cas.

“Thank you.”

As soon as Cas starts peeling the citrus fruit, the smell fills the air. He always liked the smell of it - upbeat and cheerful, penetrating and warm. Reminiscing of cedarwood and lavender, clove too. Christmas-y. One of the happiest and most irrelevant things, easily going unnoticed, every gesture is done dismissively, instinctively and without paying too much attention. Fingertips digging into the exocarp, passing through the albedo, and removing the peel altogether - one piece at a time. Dean’s eyes are on him, he feels it, sees it with a sideways glance, studying his every move, as Jack wriggles and gurgles, impatiently waiting for his segment.

“What?” asks Cas without turning around.

“Nothing,” Dean replies as he accepts a segment just as Jack stuffs his into his mouth. “Jack, you’re making a mess of yourself. - a pause, again to Cas - I mean, this… all of it. - Dean looks at the autumn scenery, gestures widely, to the leaves and the threes, Jack, the clear sky, Cas, dazed but in a good way - I don’t know. I like it. Hell, I love it.”

“Selcouth.”

“What?”

“The word you’re looking for, I think. Rare and extraordinary.”

He’d add ‘unexpected’ to the list too, but that one to himself. It’s one thing to say that one wouldn’t be happy anywhere else with anyone else, another thing to make it work. Admittedly it took some time, irrelevant weeks after twelve years of tentatively tip-toeing around the other - this far and no further, deferring and agreeing, evading and never thinking about it, not really, not after the first couple of years. They seem to have the grasp on the ongoing juggling of the time at their disposal and days are uneventful, repetitive: he works, Dean goes to therapy and cares about the house, they play with Jack.

Twice a week Dean attends AA meetings and evenings are spent trying to make Jack sleep without having to read ten different bedtime stories and doing all the voices. And time passes, seasons change. A whole year, he sometimes reminds himself. Unbelievable. Selcouth.

And Cas examines amused these little white threads of tangerine he tears from his own segment, frail as the heart, wonder and fear, with care, like life, weaving silly braids for the sake of it, fingers clumsy, vines lacing fingers, each feels like a promise, for you, for me, feeble yet together so strong, sometimes they break, frustrated, yet not giving up, sometimes we manage a fine work, proud of a miracle yet so natural, a string of hope, a string to life, life is a tangerine and we are leaves along the wind.

Maybe he should marry Dean - Cas distractedly thinks, to which he can't help but feel the corner of his lips pulling.

“What?”

“You’re in a good mood,” says Dean. 

“Could say the same thing about you.”

“Oh, look at you,” says Dean looking away, retrieving a clean handkerchief from the pocket of his Jacket and wiping Jack’s face clean.

“I need you to be honest with me, Cas.”

“I am honest with you, Dean.”

“I don’t wanna lose you. I don’t want you to die out there.”

“I’m not going to die out there, not violently.” Castiel nods and smiles fondly, affection and tenderness washing over him in waves. It's a warm silence, a promise, the sun is out and about today. Dean looks at him like the only thing in this world and leans in for a kiss, making him feel as if he swallowed a box of fireworks instead, and this time the kiss has a citric aftertaste. Shooting stars on a summer night, dropping like a thousand suns, speckled fireworks, sunny galaxy to cup in his hands, warm and ticklish, rumble laughter and stubble, soft and rough, sweet and bitter, bliss and life, so alive, for a moment Cas is again grateful of falling: so beautiful, so much like Dean.

“I will say this: I’m happy to be here with Jack. With you. And I love you. I love you both.”

[lunadensmidnightprowl]

Let Trouble Lie - CH 3

Ƴ𝕆𝓤'v𝐄  Ⓖ𝐎𝐭  𝐌ｅ  я𝔲ⓝη𝐈𝓝𝕘  𝐆ᵒ𝓲ηg  𝕆𝐮𝕥  𝑜𝐟  𝕞ч  𝕞𝒾𝕟Đ

✣●✣

Of course things happen when you don't want them to, a jinx almost.  For me that's no surprise based on my history.  Almost every time I dare venture outside, for whatever reason whether groceries or I needed some fresh air, an akuma strikes when I'm far away from safety.

I use to be fine with that, as long as I had my Thinaire costume I could go exploit the lax security at some shop, but now Thinaire was expected on the scene, I wasn't too pleased.  Nevertheless, an opportunity was an opportunity and if I didn't take it there would probably be barely any food for me and Clover next week.  Changing quickly in a back alley, I whipped out and kept to the shadows, heading off to find another place.

Those little accessory shops were my main target, mostly because I can cram a lot of their inventory into my backpack and they bring in big bucks.  There wasn't else much to it, other stores didn't seem to be that much of a deal, and a bank was too big of one.  My operation is simple, pick locks, get in, blast the security cameras with paintballs, steal the stuff, then get out.  That's the way I do things, and it works for me.

When I finally got to the place I was aiming for, the door was locked.  I took out a hairpin and set to the simple task of picking the lock, done in seconds I slipped in before someone should see me.  That first obstacle should have been a clue that people knew I would come at some point, but I was too much in a frenzy to care at that point.

Making my way over to one of the cases, I started to pick the lock but almost immediately an alarm went off.  That had never happened before!  I only gave myself two seconds to fine the alarm but I couldn't in the commotion, I had to flee.  

Police sirens were hurtling down the street to the store when I burst out, sprinting down the sidewalk.  My bad luck was on a roll today as those magic ladybugs swept through the city, Ladybug and Chat Noir would be on the hem of my flowing clothes in no time at all.  Sure enough when I looked back, they were now tailing me along with 3 police cars, directed to my location by civilians pointing me out.

I hadn't realized I had run out into the open until I was looking for alley only for there to be none.  Turning around I realized I would be stared down by law enforcement who were going to be on me in mere seconds.  I wanted to disappear right there and then, it was all I had left to do, so I vanished.

The cars came squealing to a stop, officers piling out of them to weakly surround the area.  The two superheroes had appeared beside them, looking around wearily.

"They vanished!" Lieutenant Roger yelled in frustration.  "How are we supposed to catch them?"

"Search the area!" Ladybug shouted, storming in without a worry and every spot on her earrings, "They couldn't have gotten far!  Their name may be Thinaire but they could be anything but, only invisible to us."

I raised my eyebrow in question at her, trying to avoid the officers combing the area for my figure, was she really that good at guessing? Her luck I guess.

Either way, with both the superheroes and the police officers to deal with, I knew I wouldn't be able to slip away unnoticed even if they couldn't see me.  One way or another, I would be spotted, but this time I would get them.

The officer closest to me was my target, I snuck quietly up until I was basically in front him, then with all my strength, I punched the guy straight in the jaw.  He went stumbling back before he landed on the ground with a loud thud, all attention was on me now, or more accurately, where thin air just punched someone.

"Thinaire's over there!" Ladybug shouted, reaching for her yoyo as she ran in my direction.

I bolted away, heading back for the buildings where I could lose them, only to hear a high pitched zipping noise coming through the air.  The heroine's yoyo string flew over my head, coming down at a rate I would run right into it if I continued to sprint.  At the last second, I dropped down and slid to avoid it, the toy's cord landing on my shoulder and sliding down my arm to lay uselessly on the ground.  Now having escaped the weapon, I popped up again and kept going, freedom was in reach.

Everyone was in pursuit of me now, how had someone who was never noticed before now getting so much attention?  But they couldn't catch me, I was gone in the blink of an eye.

From my hiding place I watched the police cars carrying the frustrated officers back to wherever they had come from, the super duo timing out to get back to their civilian lives.  Today had been a lesson for me, things had changed and now I had to change with it.

✣●✣

I had considered working at night before, but that had all seemed too cliche and the akuma attacks gave me an advantage.  But the only night time akumas I could remember were Sandboy and Sapotis, I wouldn't want to go through Sandboy ever again, hearing my parents disappointed voices as they shamed me for killing them was a nightmare I didn't want to relive.

But what other choice did I have?  People knew to look out for me in the day, maybe not entirely certain WHAT to look out for, but anything suspicious.  If I started working late then I would at least be under the cover of darkness, my costume helping me blend into the shadows.  Either way, the security I had to go through would not get any easier for a long time.

So instead of being bored out of my mind with Clover, I fell asleep mid afternoon so I would be awake later that evening, ready for the hunt.

The lack of daylight did prove helpful as I whipped around corners and through alleys, and there were less people there to get a glimpse of me in general.  Though whatever the time of day, I would always go for the jewelry shops, I couldn't afford less, but I couldn't achieve more.

Instead of the door this time, I picked the lock on a window and snuck in that way, sure it might hinder a hasty escape but it wouldn't arouse as much suspicion as an opened door.  I took out the security cameras with my small paintball gun as usual, but then found the box for the security system and cut it out, disabling all other alarms.  This time I had to do it, people had gotten smart about doing alarms if my recent escape was any clue.

Without the alarms going off as I picked open the cases, things went smoothly and I was almost done emptying them all when I spotted movement across the street.  Something had just gone over the space between rooftops, I held my gaze there long enough to see something else move over the gap, the pointed ears and tail lashing out behind it alerted me it was Chat Noir.  So that first thing must have have been Ladybug... Oh shit, they must be doing a patrol.

I held incredibly still as I waited for them to go farther down the street, not wanting to draw the feline eyes equipped with night vision that one of the superheroes had.  Luck never was most favorable to me, the alley cat turned his head straight in my direction, the glowing green eyes staring me down.  In shock I jumped a little, my glowing amber eyes had more night vision than an average human eye, though not as feral looking as Chat's, were able to see the determined expression dance across his face.

In one quick motion, I zipped up my almost full backpack and swept it up onto my shoulders, leaping out of the window I came in.  Once on the street I ran, only glancing back one time to find glowing eyes met glowing eyes as Chat Noir came after me in pursuit.  Seriously, these people had me running, going out of my mind just to get away with what I needed to survive.

Something grabbed my ankle and I gave an instinctive shriek of fury as it tugged me down.  I struggled to my feet but something restrained me, oh dammit that fleabag had gotten me!

"I finally caught you," he gasped in triumph, still trying to catch his breath.

"Like hell you did," I snarled before making my move.  I elbowed his gut as hard as I could, hoping to take him by surprise enough so he would release me, he actually did.  Once free I did my best at an attempt of a roundhouse kick to his side, he made to grab my ankle again but I had already made contact and was now dashing away while the cat was still slightly winded.  I could hear his footsteps coming after me again but I kept running.

Before fading away...

✣●✣

"Now why ya so outta breath girl?" Lenny asked me.

I huffed and puffed, trying to recover my breath from the mad sprint I did on the way to the pawn shop.  Holding up a finger to say that I would respond in a minute, I continued to breathe heavily.

"Better question," Lenny went on, "Why ya here in da middle of da damn night!  I was just 'bout to close up when ya came barreling in."

"Sorry," I huffed, "Ran here *pant* just now *pant* from a *pant* mission."

"Yeah, I kinda figured," Lenny murmured, examining the haul I had brought in, "Still don't answer me second question."

Finally regaining my breath, I spoke normally, "I was trying to work under the cover of darkness.  Didn't work that well because the supers were doing a patrol in my area then, the cat would have gotten me if I hadn't known a few close contact moves."

"Ya really got ta be more careful Miky," he said, eyeing a brooch I had snatched.

"I was," I protested, "Went through a window, fully disabled security, remained motionless when I had to so I wouldn't draw eyes..."

"Ya gonna run yaself right into the ground."

[azwriting]

A Jealous Tango (The Writer and The Photographer, Harry Holland x Reader) - Chapter Five

Hi everyone! Here is chapter five sorry it took so long, but nonetheless I hope you enjoy! Also the lack of Harry gifs is disturbing... Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 

Summary: Harry and (Y/N) go to the mall where much to Harry’s dismay a pretty girl catches a lot of unwanted attention. 

Warning(s): Language, Not edited

Word Count: 2004

Kingston, England was on the verge of June, the warmth of the summer months beginning to stick, and Harry was happy? He felt like the word did little to sum up how he felt but everything was going well, he did not feel that gaping hole in his chest anymore. The vast black hole had seemed to vanish and the British boy had a sneaking suspicion on why.

Knocking on the dark blue door beforehand, Harry let himself into the neighbor’s flat. It had become a regular occurence, for the curly haired boy to let himself in over the past few weeks, his knocks were always drowned out by the blaring tunes. Kicking off his converse Harry tiptoed into the oddly silent house searching for any signs of life. At the white dining room table sat Hayley in a pair of sweatpants and what looked to be an old high school t-shirt, editing a book cover on her laptop. “Hey” She greeted her eyes barely lifting from the brightly lit screen.

 “Hey” Harry responded, scratching the back of his head as his eyes scanned the downstairs for a particular brunette. It’s not that he did not like the twin girls, in fact he got along with them quite well, many of the days and nights of the month of May spent over here. Harry had practically become their fourth roommate and first official British friend. It was just he had plans with one in particular today. 

“She’s upstairs.” Hayley laughed watching Harry’s roaming eyes. 

The boy spun back to face her, “Wha- I didn’t even ask where she was?” The one twin only remained silent, lifting her eyebrows into a ‘seriously’ look, a look which caused a faint blush to appear on Harry’s neck and cheeks.

 “She’s ‘writing’” Hayley added, her hands lifting from the keyboard to do air quotes as she said “writing.” 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Harry gave her a questioning look, “What does that mean?” He mimicked her air quotes. And as if on queue loud thumping was heard from ceiling, Hayley only snickering too herself. “Oh you’ll see.”

Trekking up the stairs Harry heard the faint sound of the thumping again and what he believed to be singing. At the top of the stairs were three white doors, one door to his right was cracked open slightly. He approached the door, the door that led to her room, knocking slightly before poking his head in. The humorous sight on display in front of him had Harry covering his mouth to hide his laughter. (Y/N) clad in black pjs, which to his luck included a pair of shorts, was dancing around her room wildly. Her headphones were in as she twirled and jumped around singing along to the song.

 “Ob la di, ob-la-da, life goes on, bra. La-la, how the life goes on. Ob-la di, ob-la-da, life goes on, bra. La-la, how the life goes on!” She shouted into her imaginary fist of a microphone, eyes closed and completely oblivious to the other person now in her bedroom. A malicious smile worked its way onto Harry’s face, she was practically asking for it. Quietly sneaking up behind her, Harry outstretched his hands ready to attack. (Y/N) continued on in her blissful ignorance, still shouting out the words to the song.

 Her arms shot up as the chorus came giving Harry the perfect opportunity to quickly grab her sides. A loud shriek escaped (Y/N)’s lips, eyes wide in horror as she spun to find Harry laughing and clutching at his chest.  “You fucker!” She screamed, ripping off her headphones, Harry only staggering back to fall onto her neatly made bed. (Y/N) only stood there trying to rein in her racing heartbeat, giving Harry a look that could kill. 

“The Beatles really?” 

“I hate you.” She deadpanned, ignoring his question, and lightly punching his arm. 

“I’m sorry, it was too perfect of an opportunity to give up!” (Y/N) rolled her eyes setting her headphones down onto her desk, still a bit startled. Propping himself up on her bed, Harry eyed her pajamas once again, “Did you forget we are going out today?” For the second time this morning, (Y/N)’s eyes widened. 

“Um..No?” (Y/N) grinned sheepishly at the boy, she had been attempting to get into the writing mood, but had gotten sidetracked. Harry rolled his eyes feigning annoyance but, his large smile betrayed him. 

“Hurry up and get dressed!” (Y/N) gave him a quick innocent smile before rushing into her bathroom with a pile of clothes tucked into her arms.

The Westfield Mall was… overwhelming. Sure (Y/N) had been to the Mall of America, but that was familiar places. As she walked around Westfield, eyes scanning the stores, she realized hadn’t even heard of half of them. Harry had been showing her around, introducing her to new stores for the past hour. The two were quite simply just having fun and enjoying each other’s company.

 “So did you always write or was it something you just stumbled upon?” Harry pondered as he took a large sip from his drink. (Y/N) peeled her eyes away from the patterns on the tile floor, her eyes falling onto his. Both of their hearts leaping just a tiny bit. 

“I think I was always meant to tell stories in some way or another. When I was little, before I could even write full sentences, I would create these little books of just drawings and I would tell stories based on the images to my classmates.” Harry laughed at that, earning him that shy smile of hers that was always destroying his heart piece by piece. “When I got into my early teens, I started writing fanfiction.” Harry lifted an eyebrow at that. “Don’t you say a word!” (Y/N) giggled into the palm of her hand before continuing. “So yes, I guess writing, storytelling, was always in the works for me.” Harry nodded imagining a little (Y/N), pigtails and wide eyes telling stories to the other toothless children in her classroom. 

“Is there a music store in here?” (Y/N) questioned as she swung her bags back and forth, in between her and Harry. “Ye-” Harry’s response was cut off by a high pitched squeal, piercing through the mall nearby. (Y/N) and Harry shared a concerned look before identifying the source, two teenage girls in their school uniforms. The two girls were wide eyed gawking at them from the other side of the hall.

 “Uh-Oh.” 

Harry muttered bracing himself for the ambush. Ever since Tom had risen to fame, Harry started getting noticed just for being Spiderman’s brother. He even had his own fanbase… The girls rushed over, shoes clacking heavily against the white tile.

 “Oh my god, it’s you!” One girl gushed her cheeks burning. 

Harry went to speak up when the second girl interrupted him, “I, well we absolutely love your book!” Harry’s jaw snapped back up in surprise, looking over to a grinning (Y/N). Sometimes he forgot she was famous. 

“Awe thank you!” (Y/N) responded making the girl’s giggle at the difference in accents. 

“Your book really helped me to embrace myself and my inner crazy. It helped me realize that it's okay to be different.” The first girl added. (Y/N)’s eyes shone in admiration, she would never get over hearing how her book had helped others. The book that had taught her to heal was now helping others, it was beautiful. 

“I’m so glad, would you like a picture?” The two girls nodded rapidly, the second retrieving her phone from her purse. “Well perhaps my trusty photographer can take the photo?” 

The girls finally looked over to Harry, eyes widening even more. “Harry Holland!” The girl handed him her phone, both of their eyes flickering back and forth between the Harry and (Y/N). “Are you two friends?” The girls both smirked.

 (Y/N) moved to stand in between the two girls, a large smile on her face. “Yeah, It’s a pretty small world isn’t it?”

(Y/N) and Harry continued on heading towards the music store, conveniently located on the other side of the shopping center. “You know it’s really nice meeting fans…” (Y/N) sighed, trailing off. 

“Yeah?” Harry pushed, of course he knew how amazing it was, but he sensed there was more to her statement. 

“I-I always felt like an outsider growing up, didn’t really fit in with the crowds. Things got better after I met the twins in high school, but I was still different. It warms my heart hearing from people that I, little ol’ me, helped them accept their differences and appreciate it.” Harry offered her a small smile. 

“I know what you mean, I still struggle with feeling on the outside, especially after Tom. Everyone does a great job of making sure my brothers and I don’t feel that way, but sometimes you can’t help feeling like your standing in his shadow. But I don’t feel that with you.” Harry would never admit it, but he felt like he was standing in the blistering hot sun when he was with her, no shadows to be found.

The two split up once they were inside the music store, (Y/N) hunting down a John Williams record while Harry sorted through the CD’s. He did not pay much mind to her until he heard a deep “Hi” echo throughout the store. Harry’s head instinctively lifted searching for the origin of the greeting, finding something much to his dismay. A tall brunette worker stood in front of (Y/N), grinning down at her. Harry stood up straight, the CD’s he was ransaking through now forgotten. He watched as the guy flirted shamelessly with (Y/N), who in return only smiled back. Maybe she was just being polite or maybe she thought he was cute. Whatever the case, Harry’s stomach dropped as he continued to watch the events unfold.

 “You’re American? That’s so cool!” He could not handle it anymore, he could not allow for it to get out of hand. What if he asked for her number? Harry quickly zigzagged through the aisles of music, stopping once he was in front of (Y/N). 

“Hey,” Harry pushed himself in between the tall brunette and his favorite American, “Um… your… Aunt… Jemima called she needs our help!” And with that, Harry wooshed (Y/N) out of the music store, her record hunt being abandoned. 

“Harry!” (Y/N) called in protest, but he only continued to guide her out into the main hall of the mall. “My Aunt Jemima? The syrup lady? What the hell was that about?” (Y/N) demanded once they were far enough from the store. She could almost laugh at his excuse, but she was not sure as to why he felt the need to use it. 

“I was saving you from that asshole back there.” Harry simply stated as they walked towards the exit.

 “What? Harry he was only helping me find my record!” 

He rolled his eyes at that, “Oh please! Helping my ass!” (Y/N) scoffed crossing her arms, her bags whacking Harry slightly.

 “Oh so what about the girl at the burrito place? Was she just helping make your burrito?” Harry’s head whipped over to look at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 “This is different, she was just doing her job.” (Y/N) laughed at that, head dropping back for dramatics. 

“Oh did her job include being all over you and not so subtle winks?” That silenced Harry, he did not recall the girl being over the top like that. His attention had been elsewhere… 

“I didn’t notice.” 

(Y/N) sighed once again, uncrossing her arms. “I swear on everything, I’m going to kick your ass when we get home.” Harry smirked, nudging his shoulder into hers. 

“Oh… I’m getting a little excited!” (Y/N) bit back a laugh, both of the friends returning to their previous calm and joyful moods. Neither one wanting to admit that there bickering had been about the jealousy growing inside them. 

“Stop or else I’ll have to call Aunt Jemima.”

Taglist: 

@aloneinherroom​

@ineedabifriend​

@with-my-soul-and-heart​