#I/O’s memory stack

[constellation-of-clerics]

lazy tummy photos,,,,

[govindhtech]

Tech Breakdown: What Is a SuperNIC? Get the Inside Scoop!

The most recent development in the rapidly evolving digital realm is generative AI. A relatively new phrase, SuperNIC, is one of the revolutionary inventions that makes it feasible.

Describe a SuperNIC

On order to accelerate hyperscale AI workloads on Ethernet-based clouds, a new family of network accelerators called SuperNIC was created. With remote direct memory access (RDMA) over converged Ethernet (RoCE) technology, it offers extremely rapid network connectivity for GPU-to-GPU communication, with throughputs of up to 400Gb/s.

SuperNICs incorporate the following special qualities:

Ensuring that data packets are received and processed in the same sequence as they were originally delivered through high-speed packet reordering. This keeps the data flow’s sequential integrity intact.

In order to regulate and prevent congestion in AI networks, advanced congestion management uses network-aware algorithms and real-time telemetry data.

In AI cloud data centers, programmable computation on the input/output (I/O) channel facilitates network architecture adaptation and extension.

Low-profile, power-efficient architecture that effectively handles AI workloads under power-constrained budgets.

Optimization for full-stack AI, encompassing system software, communication libraries, application frameworks, networking, computing, and storage.

Recently, NVIDIA revealed the first SuperNIC in the world designed specifically for AI computing, built on the BlueField-3 networking architecture. It is a component of the NVIDIA Spectrum-X platform, which allows for smooth integration with the Ethernet switch system Spectrum-4.

The NVIDIA Spectrum-4 switch system and BlueField-3 SuperNIC work together to provide an accelerated computing fabric that is optimized for AI applications. Spectrum-X outperforms conventional Ethernet settings by continuously delivering high levels of network efficiency.

Yael Shenhav, vice president of DPU and NIC products at NVIDIA, stated, “In a world where AI is driving the next wave of technological innovation, the BlueField-3 SuperNIC is a vital cog in the machinery.” “SuperNICs are essential components for enabling the future of AI computing because they guarantee that your AI workloads are executed with efficiency and speed.”

The Changing Environment of Networking and AI

Large language models and generative AI are causing a seismic change in the area of artificial intelligence. These potent technologies have opened up new avenues and made it possible for computers to perform new functions.

GPU-accelerated computing plays a critical role in the development of AI by processing massive amounts of data, training huge AI models, and enabling real-time inference. While this increased computing capacity has created opportunities, Ethernet cloud networks have also been put to the test.

The internet’s foundational technology, traditional Ethernet, was designed to link loosely connected applications and provide wide compatibility. The complex computational requirements of contemporary AI workloads, which include quickly transferring large amounts of data, closely linked parallel processing, and unusual communication patterns all of which call for optimal network connectivity were not intended for it.

Basic network interface cards (NICs) were created with interoperability, universal data transfer, and general-purpose computing in mind. They were never intended to handle the special difficulties brought on by the high processing demands of AI applications.

The necessary characteristics and capabilities for effective data transmission, low latency, and the predictable performance required for AI activities are absent from standard NICs. In contrast, SuperNICs are designed specifically for contemporary AI workloads.

Benefits of SuperNICs in AI Computing Environments

Data processing units (DPUs) are capable of high throughput, low latency network connectivity, and many other sophisticated characteristics. DPUs have become more and more common in the field of cloud computing since its launch in 2020, mostly because of their ability to separate, speed up, and offload computation from data center hardware.

SuperNICs and DPUs both have many characteristics and functions in common, however SuperNICs are specially designed to speed up networks for artificial intelligence.

The performance of distributed AI training and inference communication flows is highly dependent on the availability of network capacity. Known for their elegant designs, SuperNICs scale better than DPUs and may provide an astounding 400Gb/s of network bandwidth per GPU.

When GPUs and SuperNICs are matched 1:1 in a system, AI workload efficiency may be greatly increased, resulting in higher productivity and better business outcomes.

SuperNICs are only intended to speed up networking for cloud computing with artificial intelligence. As a result, it uses less processing power than a DPU, which needs a lot of processing power to offload programs from a host CPU.

Less power usage results from the decreased computation needs, which is especially important in systems with up to eight SuperNICs.

One of the SuperNIC’s other unique selling points is its specialized AI networking capabilities. It provides optimal congestion control, adaptive routing, and out-of-order packet handling when tightly connected with an AI-optimized NVIDIA Spectrum-4 switch. Ethernet AI cloud settings are accelerated by these cutting-edge technologies.

Transforming cloud computing with AI

The NVIDIA BlueField-3 SuperNIC is essential for AI-ready infrastructure because of its many advantages.

Maximum efficiency for AI workloads: The BlueField-3 SuperNIC is perfect for AI workloads since it was designed specifically for network-intensive, massively parallel computing. It guarantees bottleneck-free, efficient operation of AI activities.

Performance that is consistent and predictable: The BlueField-3 SuperNIC makes sure that each job and tenant in multi-tenant data centers, where many jobs are executed concurrently, is isolated, predictable, and unaffected by other network operations.

Secure multi-tenant cloud infrastructure: Data centers that handle sensitive data place a high premium on security. High security levels are maintained by the BlueField-3 SuperNIC, allowing different tenants to cohabit with separate data and processing.

Broad network infrastructure: The BlueField-3 SuperNIC is very versatile and can be easily adjusted to meet a wide range of different network infrastructure requirements.

Wide compatibility with server manufacturers: The BlueField-3 SuperNIC integrates easily with the majority of enterprise-class servers without using an excessive amount of power in data centers.

[sleep-paralysis-buddy]

Want

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings: smut, age gap, size kink slightly, praise, foul language, Jim being fucking oblivious.

Hoppers old.

Or getting there at least.

And he knows it.

   But somehow you're still here in his bed, your youthful cheek squished against his chest, your arm thrown around his middle that he knows isn't as toned as it used to be. 'A Dad bod,' you'd called it. Said it was hot. He'd just rolled his eyes, giving your ass a playful swat.

   You'd met when you began secretary work at the police station. It was a long, pining heavy minute before he ever approached you romantically. You'd flirted with him, or tried, but he couldn't possibly fathom someone as young and vibrant as you wanting him. He'd tried to avoid you, despite working so closely together. That all changed one night when he had to stay late to do paperwork, and you'd volunteered to stay behind to help. He'd tried insisting you go home, telling you he'd take care of it, saying you should get some rest. But you'd stayed, helpfully pointing out that it'd go twice as fast with 2 people.

   So there he was, 1am with the prettiest girl to give him any attention in a long time, your thigh bumping his under the table. He crosses his legs. Partially to put space between the two of you, partially to hide the growing tent at the front of his pants.

The view you'd given him wasn't helping. The white button down you wore was slightly undone at top, unbuttoned in you're frustration, allowing him a view of your breasts swelling past the top of your bra everytime you bent to retrieve your dropped pen.

   You're barely through half the stack of reports and files when you suddenly stand and lean across him, your hair in his face, your chest brushing his arm.

   'Sorry Cheif, just looking for the notes that go with this case,' you explained, flipping through the stack. He let out an involuntary groan, the scent of your shampoo flooding his senses, his cock straining painfully against his pants. If you heard, you never let on, finding the folder you were looking for and sitting back down. Looking back now, the memory makes him chuckle, wondering how he'd been so oblivious to your advances.

   'I'm gonna..ima run to my office quick,' he said, standing and turning quickly, 'left some notes somewhere in my desk. Might be a minute.'

   'O-oh! Take your time!' You told him, but you looked-and it had to be his mind playing tricks on him-disappointed? He shook his head as he hurried off to his office, quickly shutting the door behind him, fumbling with his belt, desperate for some relief from the pressure. He fell back into his chair, giving his throbbing cock a couple long pumps.

   'Fuuuck,' he breathed, precum leaking out of the angry red tip and onto his fingers. He used it to glide his hand over himself with ease, moaning as he imagined it was your spit, your pretty lips wrapped around him, bobbing your head up and down, those big innocent eyes staring into his. Your name tumbles from his mouth, sweet on his tongue.

   Just as he felt his release rising in him, there was a knock on the door.

His door.

That he forgot to lock.

    There was no time to stuff himself back into his pants before you're opening the door and peaking your head in, so he just spun his chair to face front, hiding his lap under his desk.

   'Hop? Everything good? You find those papers?' You asked, knitting your eyebrows together, making him want to kiss the bump that formed between them.

   'Oh, yea, no, sorry,' he said a little too quickly, 'I uh, I think Flow might have had them last, but she keeps her desk locked at night. No big deal.' He shrugged, wishing you'd take his explanation and leave. He was still exposed under his desk, twitching, his release still sitting on the brink.

   Instead of leaving, you stride into the room, shutting the door behind you, 'maybe they're still in here. Here, lemme che-,' you'd walked around the edge of his desk and he'd nearly jumped to stop you.

   'No! That's REALLY ok, it doesn't matt-,' he didn't speak quickly enough, watching in horror as you shut the drawer open next him, finally exposing his dirty secret to yourself. He braced himself, ready for you to scream, ready for you to call him a dirty old man, a pig, ready for the profanities to spill like venom from the mouth he'd wished so many times to kiss.

   But it never came. You just stood there, your mouth open in a small O shape, your clear and intelligent eyes wide.

   'I'm so sorry,' he breathed, and moved to pull his pants back up, his face cherry red, 'God, I'm sorry, please-' you stopped him in his tracks, resting your small, soft hand on one of his large calloused ones. You bit your lip and looked up through your lashes at him, and he swears he's never wanted anyone or anything like he did in that moment.

   'I thought- thought you-,' you spoke softly, fumbling over your words, and then you whispered 'I thought you didn't want me.'

   He pulled you forward by your waist at this, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing out shakily, 'you have no idea how long I've wanted...' He trailed off, brushing his hands lightly over both sides of your face, like you're delicate and precious, like he could break you if he touched you too hard.

He wanted to break you.

   'Can- can I?' He looked at your lips as he asked his half question. He didn't need to finish. You knew what he meant because you wanted the same thing. You nodded slowly and bit your lip again. He threw  his head back and whispered a curse under his breath, and sighed, 'let me do that for you.'

   He kissed you softly at first, his pointer finger and thumb tilting your head by your chin. And then he got hungrier, greedier. He kissed you like you were fresh air and he was a man drowning, his fingers digging so hard into your sides that you could imagine his fingerprints bruising onto your skin, his teeth nipping the soft flesh. He kissed down your jaw and neck, his stubble scratching and tickling your skin in just the right way, and you moaned, digging your nails into his back. He pulled you down onto his thigh, one leg on each side of his, the pressure and friction on your clit making you dizzy.

   'So damn beautiful,' he said it against your skin, like it pained him, and it did. In his mind, this was a fluke. There was no way you'd want him more than once. Sex with an older man, that's all it was. Just a taboo to you.

   So when you ran your hands down his chest and sang his praises, he thought he was going to melt right then and there.

   He put his hands on your hips and began guiding you on his thigh, relishing the way your eyes flit back into your head. 'Yeah sweet girl? Feel good? Come on, ride my thigh, get yourself nice and wet for me. That's a good girl' he growled the last part, ripping open your shirt, the snap buttons coming open with a loud CLACK. He bent his head and softly kissed your chest, sucking and leaving hickeys anywhere that wasn't covered by your bra.

   As if reading his mind, you reached around and undid the clasp, letting both your shirt and your bra fall off your shoulders. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he looked at you. The moonlight from the window behind him illuminating your skin, your head thrown back and your eyes shut tight as you ground yourself onto him. The need to be close to you was settled in his very bones, every fiber of his being wanted you like an addict wants a drug.

   He had so much he wanted to do. He wanted to sit you on the desk and bury his face between the pillowy thighs he so often found himself daydreaming about. Wanted to see you bruising your knees for him, your eyes glassy while he hits the back of your throat. But all that could wait. He needed you too badly to take his time, to worship your body like the alter it was to him.

   'Want me pumpkin? Hm? Need me to stretch you out good? Make you feel full?' He purred, brushing the hair from your face. You could hardly answer, your mind already so scrambled for him, babbling your pleas and cries.

   He lifted you by your thighs, his hands finding home on your ass under your skirt as he held you above him, ready to lower you down onto him. He couldn't believe his luck as he watched you in wonder, his head falling forwards and into the crook your neck as you lowered yourself onto him, your tightness wrapping around him, ripping a loud, full moan from his throat. He helped you bounce, keeping you upright as you fucked yourself onto him, kissing him hard and deliberately.

   'Jus' like that honey. Fuck, you're so good. Wanted you for so long. Drive me absolutely insane,' you felt him say against your lips. He hugged you tight to him, one hand cradling the back of your head, and bucked his hips up into yours, holding you and cooing sweet praises as he used you, just like he always wanted to. The amount of times he'd imagined this exact scenario at night, when the only one to keep him company was his hand, was uncountable.

   He could feel his orgasam rising again already, and he would have been disappointed in himself if he couldn't feel you reaching your own breaking point.

   'Gonna cum for me? Hm? Gonna cum for your Police Cheif like a good little whore?' Oh, he was loving this. 'Where do you want it baby? Where do you want me to cum? All over that pretty face? On those perfect tits of yours?'

   You're were panting, your face pressed to his shoulder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

   'Jim- I,' you stumbled over your words, moaning as he hit your sweet spot over and over again, 'pill. Have the pill.'

   His head spun, 'yea? Want me to fill you up with my cum? I wanna see it leaking all over those perfect fucking thighs of yours, oh FU-' he almost loses himself to his own words, hips slamming messily against your ass.

   'Cum for me princess. That's it, be a good girl, scream it for me.'

   And you did, your release white hot. You pulled down the collar of his shirt, biting his shoulder, leaving teeth marks he was still admiring in the mirror the next day.

   He followed you closely, shooting thick, hot ropes inside of you, moaning and cursing, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you shook against him.

   'Did so good f'me honey. Made me cum so hard. God,'  he buried his face in your neck and breathed in, high off the scent of you and him mixed together.

  

Now, as you stir against him, whining softly in your sleep when he kisses your forehead because he just can't help himself, he smiles softly.

   He might be old, but damn do you love him. And if a few gray hairs don't bother you, then he can keep coping with it.

[bby-deerling]

Hi!!! Can I request Sanji and Kidd (separate) with a S/O who shows love by making things? For ex. She’d make bracelets or drawings as nothing that comes to mind honestly. If something makes her think of them she would whip it up in no time, she’s always had a knack for crafts! anyways your fics make my day, I love reading them sm! Hope you’re healthy!!

awee nonny, this is so cute! i threw in zoro too bc i looooove him or whatever, i hope that's okay!

one piece men & a s/o who makes them things

ft. zoro, sanji, kid || masterlist

zoro

he isn't very vocal when you give him a gift, but most of the time he simply is at a loss for words. zoro isn't the type to think much about gifts that people give him, but something handmade from you holds a special place in his heart, especially if creating art is related to your dream—to him, it shows dedication, a trait he really admires in you.

will wear any bracelets you give him until they inevitably fall apart from excessive wear and tear or getting accidentally sliced off in battle; at first he simply wears whatever you give him, but after a while he'll gruffly ask you to make the next one black and green.

he's terrible at expressing it, but he enjoys the drawings and paintings you make of him that range from full-fledged pieces to silly doodles. at first, you weren't sure if he was even keeping them, until you find a stack of them at the bottom of his drawer, kept neatly out of harm's way.

sanji

fawns and coos over every scrap of paper and gift you make for him; he loves to show your accomplishments off and brag to anyone who will listen and can't help but ramble on about how talented his lover is with all things crafty.

will wear any piece of jewelry, even if it makes him look absolutely silly. one time you turned a neat looking shell you found on the beach together into a necklace that was far too clunky and large to look good, but he wore it to death anyways, getting emotional every so often as he recalls the memory.

when you redraw his first wanted poster, creating something that both you and he feels is more accurate to his likeness, he falls to a heap on the ground and cries in happiness. the way you capture him, mixed with the care you put into each stroke of your colored pencils melts him into a puddle of lovestruck goo.

kid

one-upping each other with handmade gifts is a not-so-silent competition between you two. he deeply loves and appreciates all of your gifts, in his own clumsy, brutish way, but he can't help but want to return every present you give him with something better.

though he is resolved to knock your socks off and "win" the never-ending competition between you, he also takes it upon himself to help you take your own projects to the next level, even if it sometimes spoils the surprise for him. he teaches you basic metalworking and wire-wrapping to make your handmade jewelry more professional, and has no problem doing some plundering to get his hands on some rare stones for you to use.

some of his favorite times are spent tinkering in his workshop, with him working on a large-scale mechanical engineering project while you diligently make your crafts alongside him. though most of the time you have to yell over to each other to overpower the hum of machinery, spending time hanging out and chatting with you while you both create something worthwhile means the world to him.

[updownlately]

i want you to be (the only one for me)

| leah williamson x reader | angst | 10.3k | a/n: part II of this fic based on this ask! thank you guys for all your lovely messages on the first part! two months later and we finally got a part two 😅. huge huge s/o to @rockyren for beta reading this! hopefully you guys like this one as much as the first! happy reading! 🫶 (read part i here)

~~~

Two days.

Two days is all it took for Leah to realize how miserable she was. 

If the blonde thought that you being distant earlier was painful, then she was sorely unready for how bad your actual absence would hurt.

There was something utterly unsettling in the way the car seemed so empty as she’d entered it, a lump in her throat forming as her drives to and from practice were now blanketed with silence, a stark contrast to the music-filled joyrides she would have with you. 

From what used to be one hand casually on the steering wheel with the other firmly intertwined with yours was now both hands tightly gripping the steering, knuckles nearly white as they resisted the urge to reach out into the nothingness to her left, to the ghost of your presence, a taunting reminder of what she had and then lost.

Trips that were once accompanied by your shared laughter and obnoxious singing now consisted of pure quiet, the radio long since on mute. Jaw clenched as her eyes would, without fail, get misty each time she sat in the driver’s seat, the empty seat beside her remained a constant reminder of how you’d left.

The drastic change left her feeling hollow, chest wound up so tight as the space in the car felt like too much and too little- felt like it was wrong for the blonde to be here without you sitting in the passenger seat- in your seat. 

She could almost imagine your presence, having become so accustomed to it over the past months. 

Now, every time her hand mindlessly wandered over to blindly reach for yours, all she was met with was cool air and an aching heart, a shuddering breath escaping her as reality came crashing down.

And if the car rides hurt, god the way her chest constricted as she’d return to an empty apartment each evening was another story.

It was as if the hand around her heart was tightening with every passing second as she’d walk through the dark apartment, the weight on her shoulders heavier with each footfall of hers. 

Only her kitbag to be placed by the door. Just a single pair of trainers on the shoe rack. No trailing body behind her own as she’d enter- the once lively four walls now barren, devoid of emotion.

With just her pair of footsteps echoing throughout, only dinner for one to be sorted, grief buried itself in her chest as she flicked on the tv, mindlessly scrolling, shaky breaths escaping as your half finished nature documentaries taunted her on the ‘continue watching’ list. 

Sure, it felt wrong to be here, in your apartment, without you, but she didn’t think she could bear to return to her house, to return to a place where pieces of you didn’t exist- at least not as much as they did here. 

There were snippets of you tucked everywhere in the apartment. In the coffee table that held an ever growing stack of sticky notes you’d never read. 

In the records that were nestled away neatly under the tv, your favourites jutting out slightly, something you justified with the words ‘easy access’ and a smirk as the blonde would complain about them looking messy. 

In the way Leah couldn’t find it in herself to close the blinds, memories of you standing by the large windows overlooking the city at all hours of the day playing painfully in her mind whenever she tried.

And yes, of course there were remnants of you scattered throughout because this was your apartment, but there were also chunks of you because it was your apartment- because you being you, you loved so hard, so unconditionally, so unabashedly, that it couldn’t help but seep into the walls, into the worn-out book covers and spines, into the cushion that permanently rested against the arm of the couch, your tendency to lay on the couch post practice practically a ritual now. 

Love couldn’t help but bury itself in every little thing, each item precious and cared for deeply.

There were hints of you tucked into every inch inside these four walls and Leah couldn’t help but grasp at them in a futile attempt to hold on to your love- love she didn’t know if she’d ever get the chance to be bathed in again. 

So with tiredness buried in her chest, Leah tried her best, collecting her grief quietly as she’d see your favourite mug on the drying rack. Another ounce of it bundled deep in her heart when she couldn’t bring herself to cook in the mornings, too many memories of breakfasts you’d cook as the blonde would be draped across your back lazily as you hummed a song only you’d know.

With a hole in her heart, she’d gotten up these past few mornings, choosing to head to a nearby cafe instead of entering the kitchen- the cold sheets that met her hand as she’d instinctively reached across the bed already ruining her a day that had barely started. 

She didn’t want to talk about how she went out of her way to head to the bakery slightly farther from your house, purposely going past the store nearby that you both frequented often. How she avoided it like the plague since you had left because she didn’t think she could order there without a tear or two falling, silently crying as she ordered.

So while the ghost of you haunted her, as she lived in an home that was yours but a shell without your presence, she quietly begged the universe to convince you to come back, hoping, praying, waiting endlessly for a chance to mend things, because, if she was honest, nothing felt okay, nothing felt right ever since you had left- ever since you weren’t there to love the blonde anymore.

~~~

Before the blonde knew it, it had been a little over three days of your absence.

Three days of Leah quietly letting her heart constrict a bit more, the smile on her face becoming tenser, more forced. 

Seventy two hours of the blonde looking at your contact in her phone, the number staring back at her tauntingly, daring her to dial it. 

Four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes of contemplating whether she should send a text or a call. She didn’t want to pressure you, or worse, make you any more upset. 

Sighing to herself before locking her phone for the millionth time today, she tossed it to the side, head falling ungracefully into her hands.

With every passing second you were gone, with each minute she spent alone, in an empty apartment that didn’t feel like home, the heart of it gone the second you had sped out of the parking lot days ago, it felt as if her world was slowly crashing down, her unable to do anything but watch in horror at the destruction occurring around her.

The most she had seen you since was the practice this morning, you appearing on the pitch mere seconds before it had started, an anomaly considering you’d often be in earlier than needed, wanting to do some of your own warm-ups before practice. It’s one of the things you and the blonde agreed on, her never needing much convincing to join you.

Today though, there you were, seconds before you had to be, once energetic, now quietly running through the drills as you hung your head low, coasting by, avoiding Leah’s piercing staring. 

You ignored the way she shuffled closer to you, inconspicuously taking a step back each time she got nearer. 

You did your best not to shiver as you felt her gaze on you multiple times throughout the two-hour long practice, a shaky breath escaping you as you realized the roles were reversed from the day in the club- except you both were hurting.

And as much as a piece of you craved to gather the other girl in your embrace and take the brokenness out of her dull orbs, you knew you couldn’t- not with the way she had grasped your heart and let it fall so many times before, the poor thing nearly shattered into pieces by now- bits you cradled so gently now as they cut you, doing your best to put them together, scars littering your hands.

Even if you wanted to comfort the midfielder, you couldn’t find it in yourself to, for your own sake, for your own sanity.

And, in your defence, while you had a very likely feeling that Leah wasn’t doing great, her dark eye bags anything to go by, you weren’t okay right now either.

You’d been crashing with Steph since you had left the game that day, and it hadn’t been pretty if you were honest.

Having spent the better part of the first twenty-four hours newly single cooped up in the spare bedroom, you’d been cocooned in one of the fluffiest blankets the defender could find, an old Arsenal hoodie of Leah’s that you kept in the trunk of you car fitted on your frame and matching your bloodshot eyes.

It was only the second night that you had even left the room, head aching from the never-ending tears, blotchy cheeks and swollen eyes, a dead giveaway of your heartbroken state. 

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

Hell, it wasn’t supposed to end at all. 

But you didn’t know how many more ‘maybes’ you could take. 

How many more times you could handle taking a photo with the blonde only to be quietly asked not to post it anywhere. 

How many times you could watch as she acted like she was single, only to join you in your bed when night fell and there was nobody but the two of you to witness it. 

You’d been grateful that while Steph had been shocked to find out about your relationship with the English skipper, she hadn’t said a word to anyone else, taking somewhat of an older sister role, immediately protective of you.

It’s why no one questioned the distance between you and Leah, more than accustomed to how you both would only sometimes interact, blissfully unaware of the rift between the two of you, only the left-back in the loop.

So you hid behind Steph throughout the practice that morning, dodging each and every single attempt Leah made to talk to you, counting down the minutes until it would be over so you could escape.

Communicating with the others only as much as you needed to, you ran the drills, grateful that your position as a winger meant you didn’t see much of Leah. 

It was only when it came to five-a-side did you interact with her, keeping it minimal as you quietly asked Lina to switch, you now attacking on the right instead of your usual left to lessen your contact with the blonde.

You held your breath as Jonas announced the teams for five-a-side, only letting it go when play had started and the two of you were on different teams. 

And as you walked to the other side, trading spots, you couldn’t help but take a brief glance at the skipper, immediately turning your head to the side as you saw her face fall, the smallest hints of hurt flashing through her eyes, unrecognisable to everyone but you.

Pressing your arms tightly to your sides, hands clenched into fists as they fought to reach out, you did your best to focus on the movement of the ball. 

Watching it be passed around in front of you, you begged your mind to figure out the lapses in the defence, only for your gaze to fall on the blonde and your mind to go wandering yet again. 

It wasn’t fair that someone could look so beautiful even after sweating for nearly two hours. 

Closing your eyes as the thought ran through your mind, you took a deep breath in before trying to refocus on the game, willing for your heart to get it together. 

How was it fair that even broken up she still had this effect on you, playing with your heart strings ever so teasingly.

You knew loving her had been hard, but you’d never known breaking up with her would’ve been even harder.

Sighing as you got passed the ball, you did your best to stay professional, your broken heart hidden carefully away with the rest of your relationship- a secret heartbreak for a secret relationship, how cruelly fitting. 

~~~

It’s later that same day that Leah’s patiently waiting at home for your return. 

She had hoped that maybe you had changed your mind by now, or at least maybe have decided to swing by in order to grab a change of clothes, or do laundry, or maybe grab that book you had started a week ago. 

Really, something- anything- that meant that she’d get to see you. Anything so that she could fix what she had broken.

You’d been miles away from the blonde at practice and Leah couldn’t remember the last time she felt so small.

Sure, she’d met with multiple sports personalities, royalty, execs of some of the biggest companies for partnerships but she couldn’t recall the last time she felt so out of place. 

The absence of your mere presence beside her, brought the defender a sense of unrest she didn’t know existed. She’d gotten used to having your constant presence around her, a quiet love that manifested itself as relief, any tension almost immediately slipping away whenever you were near the blonde.

With it gone, all Leah could do was sit in agony, searching for a sense of comfort that she knew she wouldn’t find.

Hands balled into fists as she sat on the couch, an old UWCL game playing on the TV, her notebook long forgotten as was her attempt to distract herself by taking notes, the blonde let herself fall back into the couch, palms of her hand harshly pressing into her eyes.

Three days. 

Three days had passed with you not here and Leah was an absolute wreck.

Leg bouncing anxiously, a half-eaten takeout haphazardly tossed into the fridge, hair a mess from the countless times she had ran her hand through it, the blonde was on edge, perking up at the tiniest sounds she heard, hoping that one of them would be you.

But as hours passed, afternoon turning to dusk, dusk to night, Leah sat on the couch, no sign of your return in the distance. 

Fuck.

~~~

Five days.

That’s how long it took for Leah to come to terms with the fact that she was, in fact, in the wrong. 

Five long, lonesome days is what it took for her to realize that there was a difference between private and secret. 

To realize that maybe if she’d been confident enough to keep it private, you’d still be here, in your apartment, in her arms. 

That maybe if she hadn’t been terrified of what people would say, or the focus that would be placed on you both, she wouldn’t be alone right now, heart in pieces, body exhausted, no thanks to herself.

If she was honest, these past few days had given her more than plenty of time to realize she didn’t want to lose you. You were the best parts of her. You loved the worst parts of her and still stayed. 

Yet, here she was, about to push you away with her stubbornness- so stuck in protecting her identity, her career, her future, herself, she blissfully ignored that she’d been hurting you the whole time.

It’s why, even though it was nearly quarter past twelve the night before another training day, the blonde sat in the bed with her laptop in her hands as her eyebrows furrowed at the screen.

Sighing in an attempt to fend off the oncoming tears, she rubbed furiously at her eyes. 

After having convinced herself it wasn’t a good idea to ring up your friends and the teammates you helped close in an attempt to find you, the midfielder had settled upon planning on how she could convince you to give her another chance.

It’s sometime between figuring out whether she should bring you your favourite to practise, wary of the other girl’s reactions, that the defender’s phone buzzes, jolting her out of focus.

Heart leaping at the thought that it might be you, the blonde scrambles to find her phone in the mess of sheets. 

Paper’s flying as dug underneath to locate the source of the vibrations, she could feel her heart pounding, nearly rising to her throat as she pulled her phone from beneath the papers.

Lia. 

The three letters was all it took for her heart to break again, shoulder’s dropping as her stomach sank.

Dejectedly hitting swiping to open the notification, she swallowed hard as she scanned the message, Lia asking whether they were still on for breakfast before practice tomorrow- somewhat of a ritual over the past few months, every few weeks before late morning training a recent tradition for the two to catch up. 

Eyes flickering between the pages strewn across the bed and the tabs mockingly facing her on the laptop screen, the words nearly typed themselves as Leah watched.

‘Can’t. Got plans. Sorry.’

She had more important plans tomorrow….namely to get her shit together and get you back. 

Not bothering to wait for a reply, mind already determined, she threw her phone away and let herself fall back into the head, praying that the gamble she was about to take would work.

She could only hope.

~~~

Five days. 

Five days without a single text, a single phone call, a single voicemail.

Leah had five days and you had zero indication that maybe she ever even wanted you at all. 

Sighing to yourself as you dropped the phone onto the couch beside you, you could feel Steph’s judgemental stare.

“You could just call her, y’know? Phones work both ways…”

Eyes shooting over from where you were looking out the window, you shrugged your shoulders in response, a cold shiver running through you, mind a mess.

“I could…but why…”

Swallowing to hold back the tears that you knew were coming, you shifted in your seat in an attempt to get rid of the anxiousness in your spine. 

“I could, but she’s had the time to as well. She’s had five whole days for fuck’s sake. And what did I get in that time? A text? A call? Any indication that maybe she misses me? Misses our relationship? That it meant anything to her? None. Not a single one Steph.”

Closing your eyes as you felt your heart clench as the words that had been floating around in your mind finally rang through the quiet house, you clenched your hand in a fist.

Wiping away the one tear that had escaped with your other hand, you took a shuddering breath before continuing. 

“I’ve spent the last two weeks wondering if I was ever good enough for her- if I ever meant anything to her. Two weeks telling myself that maybe she cared an ounce of what I do. That she actually wanted me in her life, in her future.”

“And you know what? You know what Steph? I don’t think she does. I don’t think so. Because maybe, maybe, if this all meant anything to her, something to her, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you right now. Maybe she’d be with me. I’d be in my apartment, with her, wrapped up beside her. But I’m not. I’m not and she’s not the one beside me. She’s not, and I think that’s telling enough.”

Breathing heavily, your heart pounding as you felt it constrict, you did your best to swallow the lump in your throat and pick your book back up.

And as Steph stayed quiet, you silently wondered if you ever meant anything to the blonde, the question continuing to haunt you as quiet voices in your mind answered with resounding ‘no’s’. 

~~~

The drive the next morning to practice is silent, but Leah’s mind isn’t.

Variations of apologies are floating through, the blonde testing the ones she likes out loud, wincing as they gradually sounded worse and worse.

I’m sorry that I didn’t treat you right.

I’m sorry that I hurt you so many times…give me one more chance?

I’m sorry for being a daft.

Inwardly sighing at how dumb the last one sounded, she shook her own head.

Maybe she’d just let the moment guide her, let her heart say the words. Surely it couldn’t go wrong, right?

You’d always been a sucker for romantic, heartfelt confessions, constantly swooning when the two of you would watch romance movies, you nudging the blonde and making little comments whenever the lead actor did anything chivalrous.

Taking a handful of deep breaths as she pulled into the parkade, the blonde parked swiftly as she noted the time. 

Fifty-three minutes before practice…surely you were going to be here soon. 

Armed with her kitbag, cleats, two coffees, and a small bouquet of sunflowers- your favourite- Leah trudged inside, face set in a determined glare, quietly glad that no one else was here yet. 

~~~

At this point, Leah figured that if you even showed up at all, it’d be a miracle.

There was something humiliating about sitting in an empty locker room, bouquet of flowers in hand, two coffees, and only one person. 

If Leah looked hard enough at the ground, she was sure she’d find the piece of her breaking heart there. 

She’d been hopeful as she had entered the room, fifty-one minutes before anyone was due to show up, six minutes before you typically used to show up.

By the forty-fourth minute before practice, she wondered if you’d hit traffic on the way in, or maybe lost your trainer (you had an uncanny habit of losing just one- don’t ask Leah how, she didn’t know either, but she found it for you each time).

By the thirty-seventh, doubt started to creep in.

What if you were finally, truly done with her shit.

What if that last game had unknowingly been your last straw- her last chance.

What if you’d finally given up and moved teams because of the blonde.

Maybe you’d found someone else.

As each thought got more ridiculous than the previous, anxiety creeping up her neck, Leah could feel herself sink further into her own locker, her coffee long gone, yours nearly frozen. 

At the twenty third minute, cutting it close to when the rest of the girls were about to come in, the skipper picked up the flowers and her own broken heart, placing the bundle gently at the bottom of your locker in a desperate plea that maybe you’d see she wanted you back. That she was willing to try.

Pouring out the last of your coffee in the sink as loud voices of fellow teammates neared, the blonde quietly tucked away the sinking feeling in her stomach, holding her breath as she strained her ears to find your voice.

If not before practice, then she’d catch you afterwards. She needed to.

Silently hoping you’d see the little note she’d tucked in the flowers, a failsafe she had ready (thank God), the blonde plastered a fake smile as the door to the locker room swung open, making her way to her own locker as she greeted everyone but the one person she wanted to see the most.

She didn’t know how long she had left, and most definitely didn’t want to test it out. 

~~~

Cursing to yourself, you sprinted into the change room just minutes before practice started, nearly crashing into the door before you just barely managed to get it open.

God, you were late.

You’d come in separately this morning, foregoing riding with Steph to instead look at new apartments this morning.

Since the night you’d broken up with the other girl, you hadn’t yet visited your home once, not yet ready to face the harsh reality that no overconfident blonde defender would be deftly coming and going as she pleased. 

Coupled with the fact that too many memories that you couldn’t bear to recall would haunt you if you ever returned, you’d decided late last night that going back to your old apartment was a definite no.

You were pretty sure that you wouldn’t be able to enter the apartment without wanting to instinctively remind Leah to rack her shoes properly as she entered behind you, the blonde often opting for kicking them off regardless of the innumerable times you told her off for it.

And you definitely couldn’t enter your own kitchen, memories of failed dinners as you’d to teach the blonde to cook, the two of you always eventually ending up somehow distracted, food overcooked or burnt as the blonde would try to stifle a laugh at your incredulous expression, before you’d burst out in laughter as well, reaching for the take out pamphlets. 

The bedroom was most surely off limits too, countless, countless, nights of the two of you spent late into the morning talking about nothing and everything, sometimes just holding each other in silence as you bathed in the other’s presence.

Walking through the halls would be a whole ordeal of itself as well, pictures of the two scattered throughout, pictures that the others had never seen because Leah would beg you to take them down the few times you had people over.

It’s that final thought that had you clenching your jaw hard, your eyes narrowing as you made your way over to your locker. 

Cautiously setting your kit bag on your seat, your head tilted to the side as you took in the easily recognizable yellow petals that sat at the bottom of your cubby.

Only one person knew that you were a sucker for sunflowers, one person who’d just recently broke your heart. 

Holding your breath, you reached towards the bouquet, the card stock jutting out of it begging to be read.

‘i’m sorry for how many times i’ve hurt you. you probably don’t want to hear from me and that’s fair but i want you to know i’m  sorry and i want to do whatever it is i need to  to fix us. i still love you and i can’t think of a  future where i’m happy and you’re not in it. i probably don’t deserve it, but could i please get one more chance? i promise i  won’t let you down.     - yours, lw’

Eyes tracing over the words, all you could think was why now? Why written out? Surely, she could’ve said the words aloud to you if she’d truly meant them, having more than enough time over the past week, and really the past couple months of your relationship. Why was it that even though they were expressed, did your relationship still feel like a dirty secret- a small card tucked in the flowers that could be from anyone, signed with initials rather than a name. 

And how were you supposed to believe her this time having heard these words countless times before? How many promises were you going to watch her break? Each and every time, why was it you giving her another chance to break your heart again and again, letting her stomp all over what was already broken, brutally smashed and beaten by no one other than her.

Surely you deserved better- better than a couple of flowers shoved deep into the bottom of your locker, accompanied by a card that was nothing more than ink on some paper. 

Shaking your head to pull yourself out of the spiral you were going down, you tossed the card back onto the bouquet, instead bringing your focus back to getting ready for the training that you were more than definitely late for now.

You were a strong believer of second chances- but for your own sanity, it’d be better if you stopped now, at the thirtieth or so that it was- one too many to have kept count.

~~~  

It’s you running sprints at the end of practice, the understandable punishment you’d received for being late, the rest of the girls slowly filling out as Leah tried to find some excuse, any excuse really, that she could stay back and wait for you.

She’s grasping at nothing, sputtering an incomprehensible reason to Lia as the Swiss is pulling her by the arm, inside.

With the brunette only tightening her hold as she disagreed, Leah had no option but to dejectedly follow.

“Nope, no. Not today, you cancelled on me....you better have a good reason.”

It was just the blonde’s luck that Lia thought the defender was avoiding her, trying to stay back so she wouldn’t be questioned on missing breakfast. 

Unbeknownst to her though, if to no one else, it was clear as day to Lia that something had occurred within the past few days between the two of you. 

She wasn’t blind to the way her work wife suddenly seemed ever so slightly disconnected during training, mind seemingly eons away- a surprise considering the blonde prided herself on giving 110%, even during practice.

Combined with the way you’d stormed off a few days ago and the nil interactions the two of you had had as of late- something she didn’t think was just a mere coincidence- she figured that right now, you deserved your space, and Leah likely a telling off, if the fact that your sunshine mood was in the dumps and the blonde exuded waves of nervousness was anything of a sign.

Somehow managing to wrangle her English counterpart away from the field, Lia led the blonde away from the locker rooms, instead choosing a secluded hallway near the back ends of the stadium to confront her. 

Turning around sharply once she deemed they’d walked far away enough, Lia fixed the other girl with a questioning stare, her best captain’s stare if she said so herself.

“So what’s really going on?”

Swallowing hard at the accusing question, Leah contemplated telling the truth for just a second.

It would make it easier…

“What do you mean?” Instead, feigning innocence- not wanting anyone involved in the mess she created, she tilted her head in faux confusion.

Confusion that the Swiss woman could see right through. 

“Cut the bullshit. You and I both know there’s something going on…You can either waste both our time denying it until I eventually go and ask her…or you can tell me and we can at least get somewhere. And I know which one I’d pick…”

Leah could read the silent threat in the midfielder’s eyes. The slight eyebrow that was raised no doubt indicated that she wasn’t messing around, more than ready to go and confront you about everything. What she also knew was that if it was Lia talking to you, you wouldn’t hold back.

The choice was clear, really- but the defender didn't choose it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Leah watched as the woman in front of her eyes narrowed, jaw tightening as she tilted her head back in a ready challenge.

Please don’t call my bluff.

All the blonde could do was pray silently.

“Okay.”

One word.

One word was the reply the blonde got, Lia staring at her silently for a second longer before marching away, a determined weight set on her shoulders. 

It’s fear that has Leah blindly reaching out, her hand connecting sharply with the Swiss’ wrist, pulling her back before she could make it any further. 

“Promise me you won’t ask her about this. You can’t Lia…please…”

Nearly begging, the skipper, eyes silently pleading, held on tightly.

“I’m going to ask this once, and only once more…Leah what happened?”

She could either tell Lia of how she’d failed to treat you right and get absolutely bashed for it, or she could push it under the rug once more, make a lame excuse and get out of this.

Sighing deeply to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose, the blonde made her decision. 

Maybe it was time she grew up. 

~~~

You do your best to hide your surprise as you walk into the locker room and don’t see Lia or Leah, the absence of LW squared making your heart leap into your throat, thoughts you knew were nothing but blasphemy clouding your mind.

You knew they were work wives, nothing but platonically of course. You knew they prided themselves on being the best of friends on the pitch and off it. You knew there was nothing more going on between them- well, at least you hoped, for you didn't know what you would do if they were anything more. 

The thought that you’d never been enough for Leah still floated around your mind. You weren’t a crazy striker, or a mind-blowing defender. You were a midfielder that just so happened to be pretty good at their job, but that was all.

You weren’t special. You weren’t the captain of your national team. You weren’t heavily sought after for brand deals, you weren’t the popular, favourite player that Leah was- the player nor partner she deserved. 

You were simply you- and you didn’t know if that was enough for the English skipper.

Your thoughts get interrupted by the thump of the door hitting the stopper, two distinct voices echoing through the hall as the owners make their way in.

Leah and Lia.

Willing yourself not to turn around, you take a peak out of the corner of your eyes, immediately regretting your decision. 

The pair was close- Leah had an arm slung over the other girl’s shoulders, a soft smile on her face and the Swiss captain had her own arm around the English skipper’s waist and it did nothing to ease the rampant thoughts in your mind.

They were both sharing hushed words, indifferent to the few stares in their direction, too consumed in their conversation to bother paying attention. 

It was only as Lia gave Leah a gentle squeeze in the side-hug that they had going on did the pair break up, the two still sticking close together as they headed towards Leah’s locker. 

Turning to face your locker, your eyes caught the bright yellow of the petals, jealousy anger coursing through your veins as what used to be your favourite laugh rang out. 

Hastily grabbing the card and throwing it back into your locker to be dealt with later, you stared at the sunflowers peering up at you. 

Ironic that of all the days to receive them, you’d gotten them when the world felt anything but full of sunshine and rainbows. 

Making the quick decision, you quickly grabbed the bouquet on your way out, ignoring the questions being shot your way from the teammates that heard the unmistakable sound of the cellophane. 

Quietly letting Steph lead you out the door, you quickly glanced behind you in a silent prayer that Leah still cared for your presence- that she was looking at you.

She wasn’t.

Tossing the flowers into the nearest bin as a sour expression crossed your face, you helplessly let the thoughts of the past two hours take a hold of your heart, the poor thing constricting ever so painfully.

Clenching your jaw and hastily tossing on your headphones, you shouldered your kit bag, more than ready to get out of here- to go to a place that felt more like home than your apartment now ever would.

With you long gone before Leah even leaves the change room, you don’t get the chance to witness the way the blonde stops talking mid-conversation as she’s leaving, her stopping in place as her eyes notice the golden petals that peeked out from the top of the bin. 

It’s why you’re unknowing of the way the blonde’s heart shatters a bit more, her eyes widening, heart sinking, and head immediately hanging low as she processed the bouquet unceremoniously dumped in the trash.

And with a rough shrug to get out of Lia’s comforting pat, instead wiping away tears she refused to let fall in the presence of the few remaining teammates, Leah hurries out, discussion on how to win you back momentarily forgotten as she focuses on soothing her aching heart.

~~~

It’s a couple days later that the weight of you leaving makes itself known again to Leah. 

The past few days, the blonde had been silently stewing in the memories of you two, but had been fortunate enough that there weren’t any new stark reminders of your absence. 

But now, if Leah was honest, the feeling of you not near the blonde as she walked off the pitch post-game felt like a stabbing pain in her chest.

It was odd, the way wins didn’t feel like wins as of late.

Not when you weren’t by the blonde’s side. 

Euphoria wasn’t an emotion she felt of late, but with the absence of you in your rightful spot to the right of the blonde as she walked around the pitch, misery stung the blonde harder than before.

The high Leah (rightfully) expected after the win against United didn’t come.

It didn’t pounce on her immediately as the whistle blew at the end of the game.

It didn’t hit her like a truck as she headed towards the locker room.

It didn't sneakily creep up on her as she entered a locker room full of her fellow teammates dancing in celebration, music blasting, the joy palpable in the room.

All that sunk in was the gut wrenching feeling of regret in her chest as she timidly watched you make your way to your locker. 

For the past few days, three or so having passed since she last saw you at training, the blonde had been crashing with Lia, not that you would know. 

She’d been actively visiting your apartment, trying to find any signs of life there besides the three plants of yours she’d been watering in her visits. 

Each time though, she was left with not a single trace of you, it evident that you hadn’t been home yet. 

It was just slightly over a week of your absence, and with each passing day, Leah was losing a bit more hope, a bit more of her sanity, a bit more of her ability to feel anything but despair.

So it didn’t surprise her that the exhilaration of the win didn’t come. It was the norm. It was the norm for her now that she’d gone and fucked up. 

Rubbing a hand over her face as the sight of her teammates came into view, Leah tried to will away the spiral of thoughts in her head, headache imminent with the lack of sleep she’d had these past ten days. 

Sighing to herself at the pounding music in the room, the blonde hung her head low, trudging her way to her kit bag as she pretended to yawn in case anyone asked about her foul mood. 

If she’d looked up once though, she’d have seen your concerned look. 

She would’ve saw the way you had involuntarily turned to face the blonde as she entered, your arms itching to reach out and pull her into a hug, as you had done many times before in the safety of your own home.

But she wasn’t yours anymore. She wasn’t yours to hold, to hug, to comfort, especially anywhere but in the four walls of your apartment.

So you’d brought your arms taught around your own body, giving yourself a hug as your heart sank, a shaky breath escaping you as you closed your eyes, letting the overwhelming emotions wash over you. 

~~~

It’s as the girls are leaving the locker room that Katie remembers to invite Leah for the celebratory night out the team had planned. 

You’d been asked immediately after the game, the Irishwoman surprisingly able to sense the change in your mood as of late, doing her best to try and make you laugh more in the past few days to try and silently uplift it, bless her. 

You’d thought about going. Considered getting more than friendly with Millie, your last conversation with Leah replying easily in your mind. 

Maybe if you’d make her jealous she’d realize you still existed. 

But just as quickly as those thoughts crossed your mind, you shook yourself out of them.

If she couldn’t see your importance in her life, you weren’t about to go and beg for her to see it. You couldn’t show her something that wasn’t there.

Having then declined the offer, you’d cited your tiredness as an excuse.

Now though, you tried to act nonchalant as you eagerly awaited Leah’s answer, well aware that she was one of the last people asked.

Maybe she’d wonder whether you were. 

The blonde was tired, that was clear for all to see. But would that be enough for her to spend the night in? 

Would your absence mean she’d go home in misery, or was the blonde okay? More than over you, ready to move on?

You wondered if she’d find someone to bring home tonight. Whether she’d spend the time at the bar (that they’d inevitably, somehow end up at). Would that someone be better than you? Better company? A better girlfriend?

Hearing the immediate cheers following Leah’s quiet hum of agreeance and quiet ‘why not?’, you bit the inside of your cheek. 

God, how could you be so naive to think she’d ask if you were going?

And as your thoughts spiralled again, you felt a gentle hand come to rest on your shoulder, Steph protectively stepping into your space as she could practically feel you fall into the rabbit hole of your mind. 

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

The both of you having agreed that Australian would drop you off at her place before heading out with the team, you adamant on her enjoying the win and her night, you let yourself be led out, increasing the volume of the headphones on your ears to drown out the world, and more importantly, your mind. 

~~~ 

The air’s chilly and Leah can’t help but wrap her arms around herself a bit tighter in a futile attempt to stave off the cold.

She’d expected the crowded club that the team had arrived at to feel stuffy and hot, but it wasn’t the case. 

All the blonde could really feel was the cool breeze she couldn’t locate the source of and a constant shiver in her spine as she saw practically everyone but you there. 

Having waited all through dinner praying you’d show up, and then convincing herself you’d be there as the team decided to move things to a club, the blonde felt stupid for not remembering how you hated cramped social gatherings like these.

For the months that you were together, Leah had gotten accustomed to spending nights in, cherishing them actually, for they gave her the breather she so rarely got. 

It’s why she’d love it when you’d often pass up the nights out, giving Leah the perfect opportunity to leave events early, a smile on her face despite being called variations of ‘old’ and a ‘party-pooper’, the thought of going home to you more than overpowering the salty accusations. 

The few times you’d both gone out together with the team, it’d always ended with you two sneaking out of the celebrations early, revelling in the chaos or peace of the night as you’d trek home, more than content to be in each other’s presence.

It had gotten to the point where the few date nights the two of you had consisted of Leah convincing you to stay in. The decision was a mix of not wanting to be in the public and getting you all to herself, but she’d never tell you that. 

And yeah, sure, she’d avoided you on the nights that you’d both be out, surrounded by teammates and friends celebrating god-knows-what, but she swears she did it for your own good. You didn’t need the press, the comments, the voices that came along with the fame.

At least she made the decision you didn’t. 

It’s looking back now that she realises the implications of her actions, her avoidance of you no doubt a joke- her only failing to protect you from any hurt, instead being the one to cause you grief.

God, she really treated you and your relationship like shit…

Shaking her head to herself, mood already soured with the lack of your presence, Leah excused herself from Lia’s side, heading to the table and grabbing her coat. 

There wasn’t a point staying. Not when you weren’t there too. 

Bidding her goodbyes and ignoring the pleas to stay longer, Leah shot the Swiss captain a grateful look as she distracted a tipsy McCabe away from trying to convince her to stay. 

Taking a deep breath as she exited the stifling building, the blonde began her trek home, lost in her thoughts, wary of the empty apartment she’d no doubt be returning to. 

~~~

Steph had texted you early on in the evening, letting you know that Leah was at the dinner, and you didn’t know whether to be glad or not.

All you knew was that it was the perfect opportunity for you to finally grab your things, a change of clothes, something you desperately needed now that winter was finally kicking in. 

You’d expected the blonde to be gone at least a few hours, so you’d taken your time to show up, grabbing dinner before you had made your way over. 

What you hadn’t expected though, was the blonde cutting her night short- the clock reading near half past nine taunting you as you heard the familiar jingle of keys as the front door opened. 

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest- hell, you could hear it, as you listened to the sounds of the taller girl kicking off her boots, something you would tell her off for time and time again. 

Holding your breath as you heard Leah hang up her keys and drop her clutch on the island as she always did, you wondered if you had enough time to escape. 

Surely, you could sneak out, right?

Shaking your head at the stupid idea, you looked around you, contemplating on how you were going to get out of this.

What were you to tell the blonde? That you weren’t kicking her out of your apartment? That you instead were moving out, already having talked with your tenant about likely cancelling your lease soon. You wondered what Leah would think you’d ask for her set of keys back- for her to take her stuff to her house as you’d empty your apartment.

You wondered if she’d then realize that she’d likely ruined the last good thing you had going for you, a house you’d been staying in for nearly two years now, a place you cherished deeply but now needing to say goodbye to. 

Sighing as you took in the sight of your clothes scattered around the bedroom, clothes you’d been sorting into a ‘yours’ and ‘Leah’s’ pile, you waited to hear the movement of the blonde. 

It was only as the trudge of footsteps padding down the hall reached your ears did your throat go dry, body freezing as you anxiously anticipated seeing Leah in your bedroom for the first time in over a week. 

Swallowing hard, you wondered if this was the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning. 

~~~

Leah didn’t know how she didn’t notice the light peeking out from under the bedroom door. Nor how she missed your infamous Converse tucked behind the door. 

All she knew was that you were here. 

Here, in your apartment. 

In your shared bedroom.

And all the blonde could do was stare at the sight of you looking like a kid caught stealing out of a cookie jar, the various piles of clothes scattered around you making you look tiny.

Flexing her jaw a few times, the midfielder struggled to find any adequate words, a quiet ‘what?’ the only thing she was able to muster out. 

There’s a blanket of silence that covers the room after the word, the pair of you rooted in your spots, staring at each other. 

It’s only as Leah realises that the hoodie currently in your grasp is one of her old England ones, from camps eons ago, does the silence break.

“Wait a second- I’ve been looking for that...”

Furrowing your eyebrows, your shock long gone and anger replacing it, you did your best to keep your voice level.

“That’s your concern?”

This was the first and only chance the blonde had gotten to you since you’d broken up with her, and her concern was the hoodie you were holding. 

“You know what? Fuck off.”

Throwing the hoodie at her with all the rage you could muster, you watched as it softly hit your ex in the face, Leah pulling it off as her eyes widened. 

“Okay wait! Wait. No. Sorry. It just took me off guard…” 

Rubbing her neck sheepishly, the blonde brought the hoodie behind her in an attempt to brush over what just occurred. 

Shaking your head because of-fucking-course, you pinched the bridge of your nose, pausing for a moment before realizing just how utterly done you were with the blonde already.

Waiting a second to see if she’d continue, to see if she’d ask you how you were, what you were doing, or better yet, apologise, you sighed as silence overtook the room once again. 

Checking your watch, you figured that if you ran through all you needed to, you could be out of here by half-past-ten, a whole hour earlier than you had originally planned for. 

“Listen, all I need is like an hour then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Muttering the words, disdain clear in your voice, you started speeding up your actions, sorting the pile of clothes behind you and tossing everything that was yours into the open suitcase.

It took a minute for the defender to understand what she just heard, to comprehend what she’d witnessed.

One hour and then you’d be gone? 

Taking note of the clothes scattered across the room and recognizing her extra pairs of pyjamas and trainers in the decently-sized pile on one side, garments that looked distinctly like yours in the other, the blonde felt dread sink in.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait…what do you mean ‘out of my hair’?”

It’s as the weight of the words sunk in did Leah step into the room, squinting her eyes as her mouth fell open slightly, body rigid with concern.

Sighing deeply inwards, you ran a hand through your hair, pulling it slightly in an attempt to stave off your annoyance.

“Leah, I’m moving, yeah? It’s about time.”

You watched as the hoodie fell from the blonde’s hands, dropping unceremoniously  into ‘your’ clothes pile as she swallowed hard.

Yes the pair of you weren’t together anymore, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to move out, much less out of your own apartment, that’s for sure. 

Shaking her head as she felt her heartbeat pick up, panic in her eyes, Leah closed the distance between you.

“You’re not moving out.”

The statement was nothing of a question, hands going on her hips as the blonde eyebrows furrowed.

“I know I hurt you, but you can’t move out.”

Watching an exasperated expression cross your face, an expression that Leah was all too familiar with, having seen it every time she declined your request to post a picture of the two of you, she dropped her own shoulders, closing her eyes in defeat. 

“Please don’t move out.” 

Please don’t leave me.

“Please.”

Sorting the shirt that was in your hold, you placed your hands behind you, letting your weight fall on them as you leant back, head thrown back, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling you were very much used to seeing on lazy mornings spent with the blonde in front of you. 

Making sure your voice was steady, you closed your eyes as you spoke. 

“We’ve broken up. One of us needs to move out.”

“No...”

“Leah…”

“No.”

The second ‘no’, firmer and coupled with a definitive tone in Leah’s voice had you appalled, your eyes opening as you righted yourself and faced her

“No? Leah, I’ve spent enough time seeing you with another woman outside of this apartment. I’m not in the fucking mood to see it here as well, in my apartment.”

You waited to see if she’d offer to move out instead, considering this was your place after all. 

You waited, only to be met with silence. 

Guess it was a good thing you didn’t wanna stay here anyways. 

“I mean it. Please don’t go…”

The timid voice had your shoulders dropping. 

Sure, she broke your heart, but it didn’t mean you were heartless.

Deciding to humour her, for your own sake- you wanted to see just what her justification would be, you hummed in response.

“Why?”

She’d broken your heart enough. So why was it that she was asking you to stay? 

You watched as the always-confident blonde wrung her fingers, her head hung low as she stared into the ground. 

“I still love you…”

The weight of the words blanketed the room in quiet. Or it might have been the blood rushing in your ears. Either way, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing- unable to do anything but sigh in response, mind a frenzy. 

Racking through your brain to find the right words to say, you curse at the universe for aligning so maliciously. 

“You can’t just say that.”

“Ba-“

“No.” Cutting her off, your voice raising slightly, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You can’t say that. You can’t say that when you’ve practically been a stranger to me any place outside of these four walls. You can’t say that when all you’ve done is gone and break my heart multiple- Leah, multiple times. You can’t say that when you haven’t once rung me in the week that we’ve broken up. You don’t get to call me ‘baby’ anymore and you don’t get to say those three words anymore.”

You’re breathing heavily by the time you finish, having gone and stood up at some point during that rant. 

Eyes level with Leah’s as there’s a defiant look in your eyes, you wait.

You wait to see just what excuse she’d come up with this time.

“I didn’t-“

Lips pursing, you rolled your eyes. You knew how these words always ended.

“Let me guess…you didn’t know if I wanted to hear from you, yeah?”

You watched as she nodded sheepishly, nearly curling into herself as your voice got sharper with each word. 

“Y’know…I told myself that maybe if I waited long enough, that you’d eventually care enough. Told myself that if I tried hard enough, loved you enough, was a better player, a better girlfriend, maybe I would’ve been good enough for you. That you’d want me as much as I want you.”

You watched as Leah looked at you, it clear that she was itching to say something, but you continued. 

“I spent the last week with my ringer on, do not disturb off, hoping you’d call. Hoping you’d text. Send me a message, someway, somehow. Anything that would let you know me breaking up with you killed you as much as it killed me. And what did I get? Nothing.”

Your voice is quiet as the final word slips through, the both of you staring at each other, the room an outright mess with the clothes strewn around, suitcase open beside where you were sat.

Truth be told, you didn’t want this to end. 

You didn’t.

All you wanted was for Leah to realize your importance in her life. And whether that was good or bad, you wanted to know where you stood- because you’d stick around if she loved you, but you couldn’t bear to stay if you weren’t wanted. 

You couldn’t light a candle in the rain. 

Watching as Leah flexed her jaw once, then twice before inhaling deeply, you felt a chill go up your spine as anticipation slowly killed you. 

“It hurt more than I could ever imagine…”

The confession was quiet, barely a whisper, but it had your attention, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other girl.

“It’s killed me every time I’ve come to this apartment alone y’know? Every single time I’ve walked into this place and you’re not behind me yelling at me to put away my shoes properly.”

Swallowing her emotions down and steadying her voice, she continued.

“Do you want to know how wrong it felt, driving to practise without you beside me? Without your humming and singing? Or how much it sucks not being able to stand beside you at practice. Or how the only thing I’ve wanted these past few days is just one of your hugs- the ones you give me when you know I’m not feeling well, too tired to do anything but cuddle you?”

“It’s stupid, but I’ve visited- stayed- at your place nearly every day since our breakup, hoping each day that you’d come back and I could- we could talk. That I could make it up to you. I’ve missed you. I really have. More than anything else ever- I swear. Spent the first night and the second too, on your couch, hugging your favourite cushion and your international hoodie.”

Smiling bitterly to herself at the memory, the blonde wiped away the few tears that had escaped.

Feeling your eyes starting to sting as you remembered just how gruelling the first few days had been for you, you quickly wiped away the one lone tear that managed to escape, holding back the oncoming sniffles.

Feeling your chest rise as you did your best to loosen the anxious feeling in your chest, you stayed rooted to your spot, too afraid to move for fear that Leah would stop talking.

“Did you read the note?”

The question was small, especially after the large confession just moments ago, and it had you nodding in response, scared that you’d break the atmosphere in the room if you spoke too loud.

“I-,” Leah cleared her throat, running a hand through her own hair as her gaze met yours again. 

“I meant it y’know? Seeing you and just you in my future? I wanna fix this…us. I’d really like to fix what I broke, if you’d let me.”

Biting back a grimace because wow, were you really about to give her the power to break your heart again. The one thing you told yourself you wouldn’t let her do- not anymore.

“I don’t know how to trust you again…”

You knew the words were harsh, but they were the truth.

How could you trust someone that single handedly broke your heart over and over again. 

Holding your breath as you watched Leah slowly step forward, inching towards you until she was merely inches away from where you stood, you wondered if you could ever let the blonde back in. 

“One chance is all I ask for. I’ll earn your trust again, I swear. Just please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.”

You watched as her fingers flexed, jaw clenching and unclenching as the blonde fought herself internally. 

As she made a decision, you smiled at the way the little crease between her eyebrows disappeared, a place you loved to kiss whenever the blonde was upset about the movie you’d choose for movie nights. 

So caught up in your memories, you were only jolted out of the dreamland your mind went to as you felt Leah hesitantly grab your hand, the touch cautious and feather-like as she tried to gauge your reaction. 

Looking down at your intertwined hands, you bit your lip, one question floating around your mind. 

“Are you planning for us to continue being a secret or…?”

Closing your eyes as you waited for her answer, you wondered if this would be the last time you’d feel Leah’s touch. 

You knew you couldn’t bear to be a secret. You liked private, sure, but all you really wanted to do was be you. Be you and her, and be able to show the world that, without bounds. 

“No.”

Eyes flying open, you narrowed your eyes at Leah, surprised by the confident tone, so sure of herself, so assured, that it nearly had you convinced. 

“And if you let me down?”

“Then I’ll leave your life myself, just say the words and I’ll go. But I don’t plan to let you down. Not again. Not ever. I don’t want a life without you. I’ve had a taste of if, and fuck, I needed that. I needed that because I know I’d rather deal with everyone’s comments, everyone’s judgement, their prying, their invasive questions, than lose you.” 

Swallowing hard at those words, you felt your shoulders relax, mind and heart practically numb with the overwhelming emotions you were feeling. 

Words a whisper, tears silently falling down your cheeks as the weight of the past week hit you, you prayed that you never felt this type of hurt again. 

“Hurt me again and I’ll break your kneecaps alright?” 

And letting yourself be pulled into the taller girl’s embrace, you let yourself sink into her hug, a warmth you’d missed so dearly, so fervently in the past few days- a hug that even the best Calvin cuddle couldn’t compare to, you let out a sigh.

Things weren’t alright yet. They weren’t going to be for a while. 

But this was a step in the right direction. A step you’d take, praying to the universe that it wouldn’t let you fall- at least not without someone to catch you. 

You just hoped it would be Leah- she was the only one you wanted to catch you when you fell. You just had to trust her word that she would. 

[crystalflygeo]

Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader-

cw/tags: This chapter has no smut but still contains highly suggestive themes and sexual implications. Mentions of slavery and past sexual abuse on fem!reader, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. fem!reader suffers with self-worth and bad memories, including past insults and abuse.

notes: After so long finally part 2!! EEEEEEEE I am so excited but also so nervous pls ;w; like if you want the first part can be read as a standalone and have a "happy ending" but now I am committed to the emotional roller coaster, A/B/O dynamics and LONG BURN PINING so yep >:3c hope this does justice to everyone's expectation tho. And hope you like it and accompany me on this tale hehe

As a lil sidenote brackets [] now indicate past actions/words and bad memories, regular italics for emphasis, inner thoughts or the little pinyin I sprinkled here (which btw is taken straight from genshin wiki so...).

<- Part 1.

Being precious all of the sudden was… different.

Your hand subconsciously kept touching your bonding mark, as if to make sure it was still there, to soothe you.

After a quick meal just between Zhongli and you, consisting of some soft rice buns and delicious minced meat packaged inside a crispy pastry shell, you were then offered some new clothes. It was much more elaborate and certainly more layered than anything you’d worn before: a long skirt and flowy sleeves in a silky soft fabric, beautifully embroidered and hastily modified to make a hole for your tail to slip out. A sash keeping everything in place while accentuating your figure. You immediately loved it although it felt a little heavy and restricting.

Now, you quietly follow Zhongli as he leads you around the palace. He’s back to his former fully-human appearance, wearing an elegant attire, and everywhere you go, people bow at him and cast curious silent glances at you. It was rather unnerving.

It’s fine, you are used to being stared at, judged. You hold your tail up close for comfort.

The place is huge and you quickly get lost trying to map it out in your head, simply following along until you reach a large room with a few simple beds scattered around. Bookcases and cabinets stacked the walls, filled with all sorts of books, papers, jars and things. A pungent smell present in the air.

A green-haired man leans over a desk, glasses perched on his nose as he frantically scribbles some notes. What seems like powders and plants litter the space around him, along with a few more glass containers, incense, and a tea set with a steaming fresh cup.

“Baizhu.” Zhongli’s voice calls and you stiffen a little, hearing it again after a while of silence. It is still warm and deep but with a more reserved and regal tone like when he first met you.

The green-haired man (a Beta, you recognize) looks up and blinks in surprise, then smiles brightly and says some words you do not understand, you shuffle in place.

“Yes, this is her.” Zhongli replies. “I will ask you to speak in in common tongue so she can understand as well, I don’t want to unnecessarily unnerve her.”

Well, that is… very considerate. It eases you a little.

“Of course, your majesty.” He turns to you, his eyes were a bright amber, also with slitted pupils. Was it common in liyuens? “My name is Baizhu, the royal doctor and apothecary, pleased to meet you, empress.”

Empress?!

“E-Empress?!” You can’t help but blurt out.

“Why of courssse.” A high-pitched voice hisses and you almost jump when a white snake peaks her head from her coils at the desk, staring up at you. “You’re mated to hisss majesssty the emperor, sssso, it would be underssstood you’re now the empresssss.” Her split tongue flickers.

Baizhu chuckles. “Changsheng, be nice.”

You don’t know what to answer, mostly because you’re still reeling from the fact that you’re apparently now an empress, and because there’s a talking snake.

Liyue is weird…

“I decided to bring her here exactly because of that.” Zhongli turns to you and suddenly holds one of your hands, softly, staring at you with such affection it makes you melt. “Darling, would you let him check your bonding mark for a moment?”

You’re a little nervous, but it is not like you can refuse… right? You nod quietly.

Baizhu approaches and examines your neck and you fight the urge not to flinch or growl. No Omega likes it when a stranger is so close to such a sensitive spot. He hums and tilts his head but doesn’t touch you. “It seems it’s already healed due to her illuminated beast blood but the scar is present. I’d say the bond has been properly established, congratulations your majesty.” He smiles warmly.

A grateful bubbly feeling creeps up your chest. Properly established. So, it’s true.

You feel Zhongli’s hand squeeze yours lightly and look down at it, then back up at him. “Thank you, Baizhu. I will not keep you any longer. We still have a lot to do and I’m sure you do as well.”

Baizhu bows at him (at both of you, you realize) and then you’re on your way. Not before hearing the snake’s hissy whispers again

“A fine yin, hm…?”

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

This is… your new home.

Zhongli shows you around some of the areas in what he called the “inner court” of the palace complex. Everything is so… large and open and lavish it has your head spinning, your eyes darting in every direction trying to take in all at once, walking fast on your new clothes. He guides you along the dining hall, a small temple, crosses through an enormous main hall where he explains audiences are held, and then a gorgeous outer garden that completely takes your breath away.

The wooden gilded architecture in golds and reds, the fresh wind and gentle sun. All sorts of new sounds and smells. The painted walls and high ceilings. The new plants and flowers. The chatters in a different language… everything is so distinct from the desert.

You soak in the new environment. Inhaling deeply.

It is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Finally, he guides you to another room, it looks similar to the nest room where you’d first been at, but larger. It is sparsely decorated with a large and comfy looking-bed, a desk, mirror and a small table with a couple chairs and a tea set. It smells nice enough.

You peek up at Zhongli.

“This will be your room.” He explains.

…What?

“We kept it simple for now but you are, of course, free to furnish and decorate it however you’d like. It’s close to my own room and anything you might need.”

Wait what?

Your ears lower down and you seem to deflate a little, disappointed. “H-Huh? But… I-I won’t be sleeping with you?” You ask softly.

Mated pairs sleep together, don’t they? They share living chambers and mix their scents together to symbolize their union. That’s what you’ve always been told. You are to always be near your Alpha, at his beck and call, warm up his bed and be ready to please.

Maybe things are different in Liyue? Or maybe it’s because he’s an emperor. Master didn’t tell you anything, so maybe you are just making a fool of yourself right now on your-

Zhongli clears his throat and looks at you a little surprised “I simply thought you’d be more comfortable having your own space, we… don’t really know each other very well yet, and I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Impose? As in order? But he’s your Alpha! “B-But I want to! Please! I-I mean… I thought that since we’re b-bonded…” You mumble shyly.

His cheeks turn a little pink, you like when that happens, he looks a lot less serious. He cups your cheek and you inhale looking up at those gorgeous golden eyes. “My dear dragoness. I don’t want you to feel forced to do anything you don’t want to. I know you were raised… differently, I cannot claim to understand your experiences, but listen to me: you are safe here.” He says the last part slowly, enunciating each word. “No one will scold you or punish you, least of all me. I want you to be free to speak and choose what you want.” He sighs. “Though I know it’ll be difficult...”

Furnish, impose, free… you don’t know any of those words.

But no punishment, to choose what you want, to be safe… it sounds surreal even.

What do you want?

His eyes soften at your nervous silence. “Let’s try this… do you really want to share my room, or would you like to stay here? I won’t be upset if you do.”

“I…” Your tail curls around you. “I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.” You mumble.

“Then it would be my honor, however, this room will stay ready if you change your mind, alright?” You glance around at the room again, and nod. “Now that that is settled, I have one last thing to do. I need to introduce you to a few very special people before I leave to-”

“Leave?!”

You didn’t mean to yelp like that.

“J-just to do my duties, I am not leaving you, I promise.” He corrects, a little taken aback. “I am sorry my dear, but as much as I’d like to spend every moment by your side right now, I have a few pressing matters to tend to. I know you’re nervous, everything is new and scary and overwhelming but I promise I’ll leave you in good hands and be back as soon as I can.”

You nod, now feeling a little embarrassed at the whole ordeal. You’d been feeling so at ease with his presence, showing you around, listening to his voice name and explain everything you saw that you’d almost forgotten. “You’re the emperor, I’m sure you’re very busy. No need to worry about me, I’ll behave, my lord.”

He frowns a little at that but says nothing, and you choose to say nothing else either.

Going back to the main hall, you immediately spot three people lined up looking at you with a mix of the already expected curiosity and excitement. One of them in particular immediately catches your attention, he’s an Alpha and you can’t help but feel a little nervous…

“Allow me to introduce you, these three are my most loyal and closest council members: Ping, Ganyu and Xiao.” Zhongli gestures at them and all three bow lightly. “Like you and I they all have the blood of xiānshòu, and you can ask them for anything should you need help or have questions. I hope you learn to trust them and feel at ease.”

You nod quietly, still a bit fixated on the other Alpha.

“Xiao, or general Alatus, is one of Liyue’s strongest, most resilient and skilled warriors. He usually keeps guard at the palace to ensure my wellbeing and now yours as well, if you ever feel danger call out his name and he’ll come.”

Ah, did they notice you were staring…?

With a gesture of his hand Xiao manifests a gorgeous Jade spear, crystalline green shards reflecting light as he taps it by his side, standing firm, you flinch in surprise. “My spear shall now serve you too, empress.” His eyes too are golden and sharp, filled with a certain rigidness and determination you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Thank you, Xiao, dismissed.”

Xiao hums quietly and promptly disappears in a burst of black and green smoke, you stand there a little startled, your hand clings to the brown fabric of Zhongli’s sleeve.

“He might be an Alpha as well, but I promise you he’ll cause you no harm.” Your alpha murmurs softly towards you.

“O-okay…” You squeak, a bit embarrassed.

“Ganyu here is one of the most reliable people in the palace, perhaps the entirety of Liyue. Everything of importance reaches her ears and passes through her eyes. She’s able to organize meetings, events, report, compile information and assist every negotiation and decision of this palace with stunning efficiency. She too will help you with anything you need and might be in charge of a little logistics regarding you settling in for the next few days.” Zhongli smiles.

The young woman with long blue hair and… horns? chuckles and blushes a little. “Your majesty, you're too kind, I merely love doing my job.” She puts her hands together and beams at you, sunset eyes bright. “I’m so honored to meet you, rest assured I’ll take care of anything you need. I hope you feel comfortable and welcome at the palace!”

That sounded like a lot. You weren’t used to people coddling you like this. You didn’t want to give anyone trouble or work. “T-that’s alright, thank you.”

“Now, Ping is probably going to spend the most time with you, she’s very knowledgeable in culture, history and the inner workings of the palace amongst other things. She has graciously offered to teach you liyuen and anything else you’d be interested in.”

Unlike the other two Ping has a certain calm aura to her, contrasting Xiao’s seriousness and Ganyu’s excited energy. You can tell she’s a gentle old soul as she approaches you with a soft wrinkled smile and graying hair.

“Don’t worry young empress, while Lord Morax here is regrettably busy with a work-packed schedule,” She gives him a playful side stare “You and I will have some fun. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” She takes your hand and pats it comfortingly. It’s kind of an awkward gesture for you, but you still welcome the warmth and good intentions.

Zhongli chuckles quietly. “In that case, I’ll leave you in her care and see you at night for dinner, alright?” He seems to hesitate for a moment but then cups your face in his hands and places a soft kiss at your forehead. The unexpected gesture has you blushing scarlet and your heart speeding up like crazy. His thumb brushes at the scales under your eyes, so affectionate in the smallest ways… “I know it’s not ideal, but it’ll be fine, yes?”

You stare at his golden eyes, the red lines, his handsome face framed with dark hair, his serene smile.

You don’t like this. You don’t want him to leave. The idea makes you uncomfortable.

But it’s not like you can say no.

You nod.

“Thank you, Ping.” Both of them exchange a glance and then he turns to the blue-haired woman still in the room. “Ganyu, if you will.”    

“Right away your majesty!” She scurries after him, talking quickly in foreign tongue while both walk away.

You stare after him for a moment longer.

“It’s a little difficult, isn’t it?”

You quickly turn back to Ping and then look down, ears folding back.

She laughs softly. “No need to be ashamed dear, it is understandable that you are unsure with all this, it’s a lot of changes for such a short time and you bond is still fresh, but let’s take it easy.”

Your hand brushes at Zhongli’s bonding mark again. “O-Okay…”

“Are you hungry? Tired? Perhaps you want to rest a little?”

You want to scurry away to your mate’s room and curl up there, that’s what you want, but…

“Um, aren’t you… going to train me?”

Ping blinks a little taken aback “Train? Oh! Teach?”

Same thing.

“Well, yes. I did offer, but only if you’re feeling up to it young empress. You can take your time, we don’t have to start right away. And like I said, take it easy, it's only your second day here.” She explains. “You won’t be absorbing any information if you are uncomfortable and jittery like this.”

“S-sorry-”

“No need to apologize at all. Now tell me, is there anything you’ve seen or heard today that you’re curious about, anything you want to do?”

What you want…

You think back a few hours earlier. The infirmary, the small temple, the grand hall, and…

“The garden.” You speak. “Can we go outside and see?”

Ping smiles brightly. “Of course! I’m sure there are a lot of things there that will catch your interest and cheer you up.”

Your tail sways a little after you as you follow the old lady along the corridors.

------------------------         

The garden is breathtaking.

More than a garden it feels like a whole different world. Bright and exciting and colorful, full of life. It reminds you of an Oasis, but just… more!

A grand pond with multicolored fishes and a couple of turtles sunbathing. Walk paths made of stone, plants everywhere you see: in trees with vibrant yellows, oranges and all shades of greens, in flowers with soft colors and small petals, in thick bushes. The light filters through the leaves and there’s the soft tweets of small birds.

“It’s… so pretty!” You exclaim happily.

“I’m glad you think so. Gardens like this are carefully cared for and preserved to impress, but they also represent beauty, abundance a sense of harmony.” Ping explains as she is now the one following after you, skipping along the path. “These trees you see are sandbearers, and that one is a ginkgo tree, you can tell the difference by the shapes of their leaves.” She points at each one and you follow with your gaze, picking a small leaf from the floor, golden and fan-shaped.

“Ooh…”

“See those smaller fishes? They’re goldfishes. The bigger ones are kois.” She gestures at the animals freely swimming around. Some of them are huge!

“What do they eat?” You blurt out.

“Well, usually algae and wheat. We can get some another day and you can feed them.”

“Really?!”

“Of course.”

“Oh! Is that a koi too? It’s so… long and pretty.”

“Ah, that one is a golden koi. Lord Morax has a few of them here. They are also called Jīnchì Jiǎlóng or ‘false dragons’ you know? For the small horns and long bodies. They do resemble your tail a little, don’t they?”

You move your tail forward and stare at it, then stare at the serpentine fish.     

“Yes, sort of… Jin chi… jia long.” You mumble.

“Here, I think you’ll like these ones. Come with me.” You eagerly follow after Ping as she rounds the pond and guides you towards a few red bushes. They’re dotted with pink round flowers. “These are silk flowers, Nícháng-huā, usually harvested to make clothes, but there are many special ornamental variants and between us both, your dear mate has a weak spot for these so he has quite the collection.” She chuckles.

“Orna…metal?”

“Ornamental, it means mostly for decoration.”

“Oh!” Suddenly you feel dumb, you’d thought for a second that was a liyuen word too. “I’m sorry… I don’t even know common tongue very well.” How could you even expect to learn liyuen?

“No worries, dear, learning a new language is a daunting task, it takes a bit of work every day. If you keep learning, using and practicing words, you’ll get there.”

You smiled softly. Ping was so… patient and supportive.

So much different from…

[You have to try harder.]

[Tch that is not good enough.]

[Are you stupid?!]

[Useless omega.]

You looked at the budding silk flowers and blinked. Once. Twice. Why was your vision blurry now? What was this feeling?

“Oh, oh young empress please don’t cry. It’s alright” Ping’s alarmed remark helps you understand. She fusses over you. “Are you ok?”

You wipe at your tears and smile, a genuine bright smile.

“I’m fine.”

And this time, you truly mean it.

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

After a rather fancy bath (the kind of like you used to take before being presented to Alphas, with bubbles and scented oils...) and a good dinner Zhongli and you headed over for his chambers for the night. You couldn’t help but be a little… nervous.

This is stupid. He’s your Alpha.

He’s been nothing but kind to you.

What if he wants to… d-do things?

Then you’ll do it. He’s your mate. It’s your obligation.

You were the one who chose this anyway.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, anxiety creeping up your chest. Were your fingers trembling? Was the room suddenly cold?

As expected, the bedroom was quite matching his style. Golds, browns and a bit of red and black here and there. Dragon imagery adorning some of the walls, a tea cabinet with a small table and shelves filled with all sorts of trinkets from precious stones and books to a beautiful fan and a tea set.

And then there was the bed.

A large canopy bed, enough to probably have your body and tail fully stretched across and still fit in the mattress, beautifully decorated and filled with fabrics and pillows.

The scent of Zhongli’s Alpha pheromones was definitely strong.

He yawns and runs a hand along his forehead, combing along his hair before pulling out the clip on it, letting his long dark locks spill free. He takes off his robe revealing his naked torso and you jolt.

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.           

You undress as well into your light sleeping clothes and gingerly slip into his bed, curling up around his pillows, surrounded by his scent.

His.

You are his.

It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine-

“Darling, is everything alright? Are you uncomfortable?” He asks concerned, climbing on the bed as well and reaching out to touch your arm. You squeak. “You’re… terrified, what’s wrong?” Then Zhongli’s eyes widen a little. “Oh. The scent… I completely overlooked that, my apologies. Is it too strong? Are you ok? Should have given you some things earlier for you to scent and include them here. This is no good…” He rambles a bit to himself as he sits up and crosses his arms thoughtfully.

You stare at him, anxiety still surging through your veins but now mixed in with confusion.

“Would you like to sleep in the other room we prepared for you instead?” He sighs.

“I… t-this is… you… would just let me leave?”

Zhongli tilts his head slightly, now he looks confused.

“I promised you that the room would be available-”

“So, you don’t want to mate?”

Silence.

He stares at you for a moment as you grip at the bedsheets, still tense.

His eyes widen as realization settles in.

Ah. The pink dusting in his cheeks is back.

“Y-You thought that… no! My dear, no, no, no…” He coughs into his fist awkwardly. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong idea. A-As I said before I want you to be comfortable and feel safe. No Alpha will force you to do anything you don’t want. Not even me. And you don’t have to feel forced to do things you don’t want to, either.”

You look down. Although you feel slightly more relieved.

“I want to stay here. A-and if you want to, I’ll service you, my lord. I was just… nervous, sorry.”

“I assure you there is no need for any of that.” He says softly. “Here.”

He pulls the covers and slips them over you both, lying down facing you but still keeping a little distance. You do the same, curled up face to face with him.

He’s so effortlessly handsome.

And kind.

And you like him.

But he’s still an Alpha.

“Is this alright? We’re just going to sleep, I promise.” He brushes some hair away from your face.

You nod.

“Is there… anything you want to talk about or ask me?”

You... don’t know.

You shake your head.

“Hmmm. Want to share about your day? What were you up to with Ping?” He gives you a playful smile. Suddenly he feels less like an imposing strict emperor, or like a scary Alpha. He’s just your Zhongli.

“She… showed me the garden. I wanted to see.”

“Ah, the royal garden has many fascinating sights and it’s a beautiful landscape to retreat to and ease one’s mind. I had the feeling you’d be interested.”

“There were so many beautiful things. She taught me about the silk flowers, nícháng-huā. And all the trees and fishes and birds.”

“Oh? Are these your first words in liyuen, my dear?”

You giggle. “I… suppose they are. She also showed me your turtles Jiàn and Fù and told me what their names mean, they are so cute. Oh! And we saw the liúlí bah… bai… bǎihé! I sang to them and they bloomed! It was... amazing.”

“I see. Not everyone can achieve that, I’ll admit I’m quite hopeless at singing.” He chuckles “What more did you learn?”

Feeling much more content and at ease you continue retelling all the new things you had experienced and the vocabulary you had learned including how to introduce yourself and some greetings and basic words. Talking for what felt like hours until weariness and sleep claimed you both.

Zhongli simply listened and stared at you, captivated. He seemed content as well.

It made you happy.

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

For the next couple of months, you established a sort of routine.

You’d wake up early alongside Zhongli, even though you didn’t need to, you simply enjoyed having some morning tea and breakfast with him. Afterwards he’d go tend to some of his official duties and you’d stay with Ping Lǎolao, learning more and more each day. By now you could even follow some basic conversation (provided the other person didn’t speak too fast) although reading and writing was still extremely difficult.

You’d expressed interest in some gardening and even headed to the kitchens to prepare some food by yourself. The maids claimed there was no need for the empress to do such ‘menial tasks’ but as an Omega you pride yourself in certain things, and cooking for your Alpha was something you’d yearned to do.

You were overjoyed when Zhongli praised your Jade parcels.

You’d always have lunch with him and some days he’d accompany you for a stroll or you’d stay at his study for some leisure time, or even at some meetings. It had been a little unnerving at first but you also knew it was important to know others and be known in the council, as well as understand Liyue outside of the palace walls. After all, you are an empress now.

At night, you slept close to him. The initial awkwardness of sleeping at opposite sides of the bed soon traded for a much cuddlier approach, often with you curled up to Zhongli’s chest or him spooning you, tails often intertwined together. The bed and the entire room now have a mix of your combined scents, like true mates.

And so, life was good…

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

You’re slowly pulled out of your sleep as Zhongli stirs in the bed. You grumble a little and yawn, already missing his warmth. It was so pleasant…

“Good morning, my dear dragoness.”

“Morning…” You mumble, not opening your eyes and instead blindly reaching for his pillow to hug and cling to. “Can we stay for longer?” You whine.

“You definitely can, but I have to go.” He kisses your forehead “Rest, my dear.”

You pout but say nothing. Squeezing at the pillow and burying your face in it.

It smells so good…

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

“Hmm… is it warmer today?” You wonder aloud as the maids help you up with the layers of your hanfu. The clothes still hot and heavy in contrast to what you used to wear at the desert, but today seemingly more so… the sash feels more constricting than usual. “I-I think I’d like to wear something a little lighter… if possible.”

“Of course, your majesty, no problem.”

You smile at them, grateful.

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

Sitting at Zhongli’s study room you practice some basic liyuen calligraphy while he seemingly goes over some important documents. The silence is comfortable and a warm cup of Qixing tea steams at both desks. Yet, something keeps bothering you.

You huff lightly, scratching and picking at the scales of your tail, irritated with the uncomfortable feeling. Why is it so itchy? A couple of them fall off, revealing new glossy ones underneath.

“Ah…” So that means…

You stop for a moment. The feverish feeling, scents being stronger on your nose, the urge to nest and cling to your mate.

Hmm… part of you is a little excited. And yet, there is fear.

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

“You have quite the appetite today, dear. Eat slowly, the food won’t go anywhere.” Ping chuckles as you practically pick a little of every dish while still trying to keep some modicum of elegance. Chopsticks weren’t that easy after all.

“Yes… I think… I think it’s my pre-heat hormones.” You sigh before munching on a shrimp ball.

Your heat…

Your first heat with Zhongli. With any Alpha to be honest. You’d always had to endure them on your own (Master couldn’t have you get pregnant) and they were excruciating and debilitating, crying out for days with your skin burning and itching, trying to sate yourself with your fingers and humping pillows. But now… you’re happily bonded.

Would it… feel good again?

Like, that first time you two mated…

You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?”

You’re brought back to reality to see Ping staring at you seemingly a little alarmed.

“Pre-heat? Young empress, are you going into heat soon?”

“Y-yeah? Probably um, tonight…? Or tomorrow.” The onsets are always so quick, and your cycle has always been more or less stable.

The elder places her chopsticks down. “Have you told Lord Morax?”

“Um. N-No, not yet. But… m-maybe he already caught on...” You tilt your head.

…Right?

Then again even you took a couple of days to identify the signs, and now for sure you were at the brink of it. Maybe he’ll mate you tonight…

Hm… how will Zhongli react to your heat scent?

You have to do your best!

[Be a good omega.]

Ping stands up, her expression still gentle but with a sort of urgency to it, your instincts catch the feeling she’s worried about something.

“I have to inform about this, please stay here dear.”

Now you’re nervous. You nod slowly.

Why does it feel like you did something wrong…?

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

After that, things get… chaotic.

It’s only a while later that you find yourself at the infirmary. Ganyu and Zhongli are also there and everyone’s anxious pheromones in the air do not sit well with you (subtle as they are, your nose is hyperaware right now).

“I’m sorry the symptoms are already settled in. At this point it is simply not feasible to give her suppressants, she has to go through this heat.” Baizhu says, looking troubled.

Feasible? Suppressants? More unknown words but…

Is there something wrong with your heat?

Ganyu scurries off and Ping starts talking with Baizhu on the other side of the room. You cling to Zhongli’s robe, trying to soothe yourself with his presence but his scent is… agitated.

You whine to call out to him. You’re scared.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Zhongli pulls you close, cupping your face again, staring straight at you. “No… no my dear dragoness, of course you didn’t, it’s just…” He steels himself searching for the right words, it doesn’t ease you in the slightest. “We didn’t expect your heat so soon. I should have known, noticed… I’m sorry.”

Why is your alpha apologizing to you? That is ridiculous.

“Is it a bad thing?”

“It’s… not the right time.”

You’re so confused.

Don’t Alphas like it when Omegas are in heat? Soft, pliant, warm, needy and ready to breed.

“I just don’t want you to feel obligated to do this…” He says. “And… you could trigger my rut, you could end up pregnant. I don’t want to… scare you, or hurt you. It’s much too soon for us to share your heat. I thought we’d have more time for you to get acclimated to Liyue or…” He shakes his head. “Nevermind. For the next few days you’ll be in a separate room, yes? No one will disturb you during your heat, I promise.”

“B-But then… I… what…?”

Alone?

“Usually omegas take suppressants, like a type of medicine, to stave off their heats so they don’t have to face these risks or suffer them alone, and then when they’re ready, when they want, they choose to share heats with their partners.” He explains.

“But I want to! I… I’ll be good!”

Zhongli sighs. “Darling you are good, you are precious to me. You don’t need to prove anything or do things because they are ‘expected’ of you.”

He’s not listening!

He asks you what you want. He says you can choose. But now that you tell him, ask him, beg him even… he denies you?

How come you’re always making the wrong choice?

Was it all a lie then?

“But I- T-then- Why-… YOU’RE CONFUSING ME!!” You yell, tears stinging in your eyes.

There are a few gasps and you see not only Baizhu and Ping, but Ganyu and some of the maids staring at you in shock. You cover your mouth, eyes wide at the sudden burst of fierceness and emotion.

You yelled at him.

You talked back.

You should be punished.

He stares at you, frozen like a statue for a few moments. You stare at him, pitiful, your eyes begging. A whimper leaves you and Zhongli lets out a shuddering breath.

Oh, your Alpha wants you, you know it.

"Please..." You mumble, voice so small.

"I'm sorry my dear, it's better this way." His hand moves towards you, to cup your face again or brush at your hair you're not sure, but he stops himself before you can find out. He sighs, averting his gaze and looking conflicted, and then turns around.

This is your punishment.

"It'll be just a few days, you'll be well-cared for. This is for the best." He says sternly, voice pinched.

And then he leaves.

Your heart shatters.

Everything is a blur after that. You’re gently guided along towards an empty nest room, the same one you'd first met him at, there are some things with both your scents on it but they feel sterile, washed anew.

Your hands start trembling. Your eyes start to water. Your lips quiver. Your throat feels tight, choked and dry. Your body feels feverish, hot and restless.

Zhongli rejected you.

“Your majesty please calm down."

[Useless.]

[Moron.]

[Whore.]

You could no longer breathe, hear nor see. You feel like you're drowning, unable to process what just happened. Your mate…your precious mate…he…he…

He abandoned you.

“Your majesty…?"

You scream.

[notroosterbradshaw]

Stay the Night

here’s some old-school Bucky in Wakanda smut. I didn’t think I’d publish Bucky stuff here, yet here we are. Hope you enjoy x 

18+, smut, fluff. It's just you and Bucky in Wakanda while the team is away. He tends to his flock, you wish he tended to you.

“Today is the literal meaning of ‘hotter than Hades’,” you announced as you collapsed less than gracefully on a broken tree log as Bucky Barnes shot you a look over his shoulder, sweat protruding from every pore in his tanned, muscular form, a tendril of long, dark hair falling into his glassy blue eyes from the loose ponytail behind his head.

Jesus, a man should never look that damn good, you thought, fanning yourself with your shirt, the material sticking to your drenched skin. Thank god the heat hid your blush.

“Bored?” he asked, scooping up a hay bail and loosening it for the goats he tended to munch on.

“Radio silence,” you replied. “I kind of feel like I’m in the way of the locals when I can’t contact the team. I haven’t heard from Nat, Sam or Steve in a few days. I am pretty useless at times like this.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky said, pointing at the water bottle you had parked beside you. “You brought water. I assume that’s why you’re out here in the midday sun,” he teased as you tossed it to him and he caught it easily with his right hand, twisting the cap off and guzzling the cool refreshment.

Every movement was pure sex, you sighed quietly as his throat bobbed, water falling from the creases of his lips and down his chin. Life seemed much fairer before Bucky Barnes.

“Thanks, Buck,” you rolled your eyes as he finished the bottle easily, crushing it in his palm and laughing at you, walking back to hand it to you.

“No, no,” he nudged your boot with his. “Thank you,” he went back to stacking and distributing hay as you said a quiet goodbye and told him you’d see him later.

You hated when the team was away.

While you’d made some friends in Wakanda, you were still finding your way and mostly felt in the way of working alongside the Wakandan defence and communications teams. They used a lot more sophisticated tech than Stark had ever provided you and you’d never admit it out loud, the tech was somewhat confusing at times, thanks to its gross advancement over what you were used to.

You’d always be thankful for T’Challa and his family for taking you into the palace grounds, a necessity, T’Challa explained. It was beyond amazing and his lovely mother, Ramonda, fussed over you to ensure you were comfortable at all times. It was nice to feel so welcome, but so lonely without your family.

Steve, Nat and Sam had left days ago. Wanda and Vis were off the radar (lie, you knew they were having some kind of rendezvous in Europe and had no intentions of interrupting whatever was or had developed between them).

That left Bucky.

After he’d been woken from cryo, Shuri had run every test known to man on him to assist in the removal of the trigger words, he’d gratefully taken up residence away from the hustle and bustle of the wondrous city and hauled his ass out to the farmlands, simply requesting the peace, privacy and quiet. For the first time in over 100 years, he was able to be his own man without fear of retribution. Sure, the dark memories flickered occasionally, but the words would never hurt him again.

He enjoyed the serenity in the sounds of nature, with the exception of an iPod that Sam had gifted to get him up to speed on more modern music than the 1940’s bops Bucky was more accustomed to –

You sighed, hearing the knock at the door, interrupting the reverie of mindless TV. It was late, too late for guests. After dinner, you’d showered and retired to your PJ’s – your threadbare, well-worn Yankees shirt (your first souvenir of New York City when SHIELD moved you there years earlier regardless of your disinterest in baseball) and loose PJ pants. “Coming,” you replied, pushing yourself up to open the door, surprised to see Bucky on the other side - cleaned up, void of sweat and dust in lazy sweat pants and a white t-shirt. A casual Bucky Barnes. This new development was not helping your crush. Not in the slightest. “Hey. You lost?” you teased lightly.

He showed you a bottle of Glenfidditch and you chuckled a little, moving from the way to let him in. Closing the door behind him, you leaned back against it, a little confused about his visit as Bucky simply didn’t visit anyone aside from Steve or Shuri. You only visited Bucky occasionally to make sure he wasn’t segregating himself, but he did usually prefer his own company when Steve wasn’t around.

“Got ice?” he asked, going to the kitchenette for a couple of tumblers.

“I don’t actually – if I’m going to drink aged whiskey, I’ll be doing it properly.”

“Ooh,” Bucky cooed, a small grin growing on his lips. “A woman after my own heart.”

“Blame Steve – a few years back when we all moved to the Tower… fuck, just after Ultron maybe? Steve brought out a bottle of this stuff and I’ve been a convert ever since. He said you guys would destroy bottles together.”

“Well, he did. I would drink responsibly though I didn’t know at the time I could put them back as well as Steve could with the serum running through my veins,” he said, bringing the glasses to the coffee table, cracking the top and pouring you each a glass. “Are you gonna join me or hang out by the door?”

“Sorry,” your face flushed as you skittered over and sat at the other end of the couch. He handed you a glass and gave you gentle ‘cheers’ before you sat in silence for a while, enjoying the smooth amber liquid. “…Bucky, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I dunno – you seemed a bit forlorn today. Thought I’d try and be a friend,” he shrugged. “You’ve been pretty accommodating to me since we got here. I guess I could repay the favour even if you’re only checking in on me for Steve. And you’ve got air conditioning,” he tossed in the joke to try and lighten the mood.

“Steve didn’t ask me to keep tabs on you,” you admitted.

“Oh,” Bucky said, sipping his whiskey and easing back on the couch. “Do you like it out here?”

You chewed your lip, dropping your eyes to the glass. “I mean, it’s a hellova lot better than being shipped out to The Raft,” you admitted as he stifled a chuckle.

“True.”

“If I’m going to be on the run for associating with the team, it might as well be in one of the most securest places on the planet.”

“You chose well,” Bucky agreed.

“Would have been stupid for me not to take it. I owe T’Challa, and Steve, a lot.”

“They’re good men.”

“Absolutely.”

Silence overtook the room again though there was no discomfort with it.

“Thanks for havin’ a drink with me,” Bucky said as he polished off his glass. “It’s getting late,” he got to his feet.

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Okay.”

“I don’t want to impose,” he said with a gentle shrug, collecting his tumbler.

“You’re not imposing. It’s nice to have the company, to be honest,” you confessed.

“'Nother glass then?”

“Definitely,” you said, hoping not to appear too eager. Bucky gave a small nod and poured again.

“I know I’m not much of a talker,” he told you as you sat and cradled your glass close to your chest.

“I just enjoy the company regardless of noise levels,” you shrugged. “It’s different when the team is here, but when they aren’t…”

“When they aren’t?” he pressed.

“I have too much time with my thoughts.”

He raised a glass. “I hear that.”

Your glass joined his. “Why are you in the farmlands then and not in the palace?”

He nodded slowly as you hoped you hadn’t overstepped the mark. Blame the first glass of booze – less than tipsy you would never ask such a question. “Just tryin’ to earn my keep – least I can do since T’Challa is harbouring an international war criminal, assassin, murderer – ”

You gave a gentle laugh. “He’s not harbouring you.”

“Protecting me then,” Bucky corrected himself.

“Maybe protecting you,” you admitted, agreeing.

You both continued a polite conversation, mostly about Steve and the team before you both started dozing at your respective ends of the couch. “I should really head out now,” Bucky said.

“Stay, it’s a million degrees out there.”

He gave you an incredulous look that told you he knew what you were saying, but staying was still a terrible idea. Suddenly overwhelmed, you realised it completely sounded like a blatant invite for sex. It wasn’t, you thought. Was it?

Trying telling your libido that.

“If you stay on your side of the bed, Bucky, and I stay on mine, we won’t have any issues,” you try to regain your composure.

“Are you completely sure?” he looked about as convinced as you thought you were.

“My God, it’s sleep,” you told him. “I would never deny you, of all people, Bucky, sleep.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Okay. Thank you.”

“It’s far too hot to stay out there overnight. Enjoy a night’s sleep in the air con,” you joked. “If you enjoy sleeping in comfy climates, hey, you might even move in here.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Here?”

You blinked a few times, not catching his tease. “Yeah, like here, the palace.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

“Oh, you thought in here. With me,” you barked a laugh, getting off the couch and heading for the bed, Bucky following a safe distance away. You stifled your discomfort with snark, “Oh, darling,” you leaned forward to cup Bucky’s stubbly chin. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

“Oh darlin’, don’t fall for me so quickly. It’ll only end in heartbreak,” he mocked in return. You laughed incredulously, thinking to yourself, ‘too fuckin’ late, buddy’ and moving to your side of the King bed and pulling the pillows towards yourself.

“If you’re truly concerned, here. Build a pillow wall with me. Put that hay bailin’ practice to good use.”

He sighed with a gentle smile, he was thoroughly enjoying this cheeky banter you’d suddenly worked into your conversation and helped you build the Great Wall of pillows.

“Perfect,” you said, fixing the last pillow in place.

“That is an impressive pillow wall,” Bucky concluded, stifling a laugh. “Failsafe.”

“Make yourself comfy,” you told him, laying back as he pulled off his soft cotton t-shirt and folded it, placing it neatly on the bedside table next to him, a habit he’d picked up in military training in the 40s and never really lost it, no matter what control he was under, you imagined.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he told you. “It is a lot nicer inside than out.”

“Told you,” you replied with a chuckle, raising a fist to him over the wall.

“What is that?” he chucked.

“My knuckles? You’ve never knocked ‘knuckles’ with someone? A fist bump?”

He laughed louder. “No, I’ve never fist-bumped.”

“Then hit my knuckles with yours,” you instructed as Bucky did as he was told.  Still confused for a second, his hand met yours gently before opening and clutching your wrist in his warm, rough-skinned hand and bringing your open hand to his lips. The rules of the pillow wall were suddenly crumbling before you. Destroyed so easily.

“You need to behave,” you told him, suddenly very nervous.

“I’m finding it so hard. We’re here and I know it’s not just me that is feeling this, sugar,” he continued kissing to your wrist and moving towards your inner elbow as he got to his knees. Your body betrayed you as goose pimples shot up and down your spine and you found yourself sitting up opposite him. “All I wanna do is compromise this pillow wall.”

You could cut the tension in the cool room with a knife as your eyes burned into his. Chewing his lip, he made no secret of his intentions as he licked his mouth and walloped the pillow wall away.

Suddenly there was no divide and you were looking at each like they were your last meals. “Can I kiss you?” he asked shyly.

“If you don’t, I’m going to kiss you,” you retorted as he skimmed across the sheets to you and pulled your body flush to his. He sunk his fingers into your hair and pulled your face to his, leaving a small kiss on your waiting lips.

“Is that okay?” he asked, almost afraid.

“More,” you demanded as a reply. There was nothing forgiving about it – you were suddenly craving him – his mouth, his touch, his body, his scent and he was surrounding you in a way no other person had before.

He moved back a little. “One minute – I gotta explain…” he breathed gently. “This is kind of my first time being intimate in a long time. I know this,” he looked at his left shoulder, ashamed. “I know it’s not sexy. And if you don’t want to be with me because of it - ”

You grasped his face in your hands, forcing his eyes to meet yours and kissed him lightly. “Believe me when I say I do not care, Bucky. I know you do but I need you to know, this changes nothing for me.”

“I’ve imagined this so many times with you, pleasing you and now we’re here, I just…” his soft Brooklyn accent rumbled. “I just imagined it as me. The old me.”

Your head spun – he felt the same way? Jesus Christ, assassin school taught him surely how to fool you into believing he barely knew you existed.

“Well, I only know this, Bucky – I’m pretty crazy about you.”

His eyes flickered. Maybe it was emotion, you weren’t sure.

“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

This time, he blushed.

“So maybe, you should just lay back,” you said, helping guide him to do so, his head settling amongst the remains of the disastrous pillow wall and you kissed him, he moaned just loud enough to hear. “And we have a good time, okay?”

He nodded, nervously. “Okay.”

“Now, relax,” you said, unsure where your confidence was coming from but you knew he needed you to lead him and you were going to treat him right. He deserved this – you, and all of you. All for him.

You ungracefully tossed the sheets from the bed, they’d just be getting in the way and crawled towards Bucky’s feet, grabbing the loose elasticised ankles and pulling at them, the sweats he wore drawn from his slender hips, descending his powerful thighs and calves before you disregarded them all together, leaving him solely in boxer briefs. Calvin Klein, how so very rude.

And dear, if your mouth didn’t water at the surprise he poorly hid in them.

Kissing his ankle and working your lips up the inside of his legs, tickling behind his knee, he shuddered. He shuddered hard. “Fuck,” he muttered. You smiled against his skin, lips moving again, your hands massaging his powerful thighs. Stopping at his waist, you crept onto his lap and pulled away your shirt. Bucky sighed, his hand reaching out to touch you. You leaned closer to him as his arm skirted around you, pulling your body flush to his to kiss you, your tongue tracing his full lips as he enthusiastically opened his mouth for your tongues to meet. His hand scalded your skin as he groped at you lightly, cascaded your side and tangled into your hair, deepening the kiss as his hips started to move beneath your body, his cock needing the friction.

You paused and raised a finger to him. He raised a confused eyebrow as you scampered off him to lose your sweats, no panties underneath. You didn’t let him get a good, long look at you before you moved to rid him of his boxers, hard cock free and you gave him a few encouraging pumps, his eyes rolling back. “Sweet Jesus,” he begged for mercy. “Please.”

“Please?” you raised a teasing eyebrow and sat on your knees between his muscular thighs. He was asking you to go down on him. You’d never felt so willing before to please a man as you were for to do for Bucky.

“Please,” he tried again as you could see this man didn’t need to be teased, he just needed to be wanted. Adored. Loved.

“Okay. Okay, now you sit back, Barnes. And you let me take care of the rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he tucked his arm behind his head, licking his lips as you took him in your palms before an encouraging kiss to the head and taking him into your mouth. “Dear God,” he managed to say through groans. His hand found your hair again, pushing your hair from your face to see what he thought was the most beautiful mouth he’d ever seen work over his body. “Baby, that is so good. So hot,” he encouraged, clutching roughly but not enough to hurt, just enough to spur you on. You continued your ministrations for a few minutes more before he guided you away from him, gasping. “Baby, stop. I’ll come.”

You blinked at him. “That’s okay,” you promised. “I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

He grinned at you. “I’m sure you can. But I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he admitted shyly.

“Oh,” you gave a gentle nod. “I thought I was doing something wrong.”

He shook his head, alarmed. “God, no. You were a little too good at what you were doing,” he reassured you. “Get up here,” he pulled you to his face to meet him for a lingering kiss. “You could kill a man with that mouth.”

“I doubt that,” you got suddenly shy, burying your blushing face in his neck as he guided your face back to his.

“Don’t get bashful now, sweetheart,” he gazed at you like you were about the best damn thing he’d ever seen. You didn’t know how or why, but the look turned you on more than any act prior to right then. You just wanted to make him happy, release him, and feel him come apart under your hands. “I have an admission to make, and fuck, I hope this doesn’t come across as shitty…” he said quietly.

“What’s that?” you asked, suddenly feeling very exposed regardless of you lack of clothing.

“Uhh… I don’t know, logistically, how I make this work without you on toppa me, baby. I’m sorry, I don’t want to crush you if something goes wrong,” he looked as though he wanted the bed to eat him whole.

And why, you don’t know. But his admission gave you the confidence you didn’t expect. “Is this you suggesting I ride you?” you gave a small giggle as he chewed his lip.

“Lil’ bit, yeah. I know that sounds so goddamn selfish – ”

“Giving me the power over you makes you selfish?”

“Well, it takes away a fair amount of effort,” he reasoned. “And you know, I wanna show you what I can do…” his voice trailed off, timidly.

And suddenly you understood. This wasn’t just about a missing limb – this was the pain and terror from all those years ago. The raw, never-ending trauma of Bucky’s initial testing, falling from the train in the Alps. Losing his arm seemed so minute in all of it. Years of physical and mental abuse, and psychological torment at the hands of HYDRA, of the Soviets, whoever was the highest bidder for The Winter Soldier.

This was touch, connection, feeling wanted and adored – oh, how needed to Bucky understand how much you wanted to be the person to help him.

You tutted him and inhaled, gently cupping his cheek, choosing compassion. “Relax, handsome, lay back and enjoy,” you instructed as he nodded slightly and wrapped his scorching hand around your ribs. It was such a simple act, but it turned you on so much. It felt possessive, wanted. “I want to make you feel so fucking good – will you let me?”

You don’t know why you asked, but you knew you needed to hear him tell you he wanted this too. “Yes,” he nodded shyly. “Hell yes.”

“Okay,” you leaned down to kiss him, reached between your bodies and in your warm hands, adjusted your body on his. Viewing Bucky as he felt you sheath your body around his was as good as it could ever get – his plumb lips drawn into his gleaming white teeth, his bright blue eyes hidden behind his long lashes. Giving him some time to adjust, just like you were to his size encouraged you as he lightly raised his hips in hopes for you to move. “You good?” you asked again.

“Better than, amazing,” he told you, gripping your hip and your body slowly started to move above him. “Jesus Christ,” he uttered, raising his eyes to look at you.

Taking his hand and linking your fingers as you relaxed and stopped trying to ensure his good time (it appeared ensured) and sinking into feeling so good yourself, you moved your hips more, craving Bucky deeper, hoping to find that elusive little spot to make you explode.

“Touch yourself?” he pleaded quietly. “Please, sugar?”

Appeasing him happily, he watched your free hand creep down your body and open yourself up to where your bodies met, your fingers putting on a show as you toyed with yourself just for his dark, lust-filled eyes. Your body tightened under the pressure and Bucky’s pleasured grunts and curses was certainly on the rise. His hand relinquished yours as he clutched onto your ass, forcing you rougher into him, his tempo speeding up and urging you to do the same from the friction his body caused yours.

“God, you feel so good. So wet, so warm,” he muttered, his breathing deepening as his hips haphazardly fired into you. “Are you close?” he asked desperately. You were, you so fucking were, you realised, his simple question bringing you even closer. You nodded as you pressed harder against your clit, desperate for your own release and of course, his.

He needs this, you reminded yourself. You needed this. “Fuck, yes,” you replied as he used his abs to sit up, suddenly so much deeper into you as you looked at each other face to face, chest to chest and Bucky kissed you. He kissed you with those beautiful lips and a tongue that knew exactly how you wanted to be kissed as he moaned into your mouth. He wrapped his arm around your waist and took a nipple into your mouth as you started to come – that was the move, the special way to push you over the edge. Realising this, Bucky grinned and looked at you, using those pearly whites to chew lightly and you were coming. Coming so hard that you felt like you might have seen stars as he let out a litany of curses and came hard too.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Bucky breathed, chest heaving as he rolled onto his back, taking your body down with him, keeping you wrapped in his embrace and softening inside you. Bucky Barnes liked to cuddle, you realised.

“Holy shit,” you managed to say as you tried to settle your breathing. “That was fantastic.”

“Really?” he asked bashfully. He looked you in the eye and begged you weren’t lying to him. You nodded and tenderly kissed him. “Good,” he gave a small, shy smile and suddenly appeared so boyish. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have the thank me,” you told him. “Trust me, I’m just glad you stayed.”

“Fuck, me too,” he laughed. “Me too.”

Hearing your phone beep, you shot up through the heaviness across your chest and halted you. Bucky’s body subdued you – the body heat he exhumed was hot and stifling. He groaned, pulling you back down to him.

“They’ll call back,” he muttered. “Sleep.”

“It’s the team,” you whispered back. He breathed heavily, reaching out for the phone for you reluctantly and putting it in your hands. Relief washed through you. The team, including Wanda and Vis, were returning to Wakanda imminently. “Did you sleep okay?”

Yawning, Bucky slightly freed you from his grasp. “You weren’t wrong about sleeping comfortably – I mean, I don’t deserve to, but it was the most relaxing sleep I’ve had in years.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Bucky. Truly.”

He soothingly kissed your naked shoulder. “Thank you for last night.”

“I just hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“So much,” he breathed against your skin, rolling you to your back and lightly pining your body under his. You loved the feel of his weight on your body. You would come to crave it. Addicted and all in less than 12 hours. You’d fallen so hard, so fast. “Did you?”

“Yes,” you couldn’t lie. Bucky’s body was made for a multitude of sins and loving on a woman? The top. He kissed each eyelid that fluttered closed under his touch, the tip of your nose, his mouth travelling through your throat to your décolletage. “Behave…” you teased, your fingers lacing into his long, dark, loose waves.

He laughed into your skin. “Okay,” he nudged your knees apart, his hips meeting yours. He felt as if he was flying – he’d never imagined the confidence he felt, that you’d given to him. Or how you could have destroyed it by rejecting him. The power you had over him was stifling. That was a hellova lot scarier than what was to eventually come.

“What did I say?”

“You told me to behave.”

“And what did you do?”

“The exact opposite,” he admitted. “I just can’t seem to keep my mitts offa you. You’ve opened the floodgates, sugar. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again.”

Your phone beeping incessantly now, you found yourself in a world where only you and Bucky ceased to exist. The rest of the world could wait another hour.

[koolades-world]

one bed troupe w/ Satan

Satan had the perfect idea. He had heard you rave about the city you had grown up in and all the precious memories it held. You told him often whenever you were reminded of familiar faces, the local bookstores, the bakeries, and most importantly, the beaches. He felt as if he could listen to you talk about your childhood forever. That's when he got the grand idea to take you to see that city again for a day. That way, you could see it all again and he might get the chance to make precious memories with his favorite person.

Upon suggesting this idea to you, you practically began bouncing off the walls, shaking him, asking when you would be able to go. When he told you he could arrange for the both of you to leave that weekend, you began jumping for joy. "I'll be able to show you everything! You're a genius." You hugged him tightly. After pressing a kiss on his cheek, you disappeared, presumably to tell someone else. You hadn't even stuck around to hear the rest of the details.

He laughed to himself, and called Barbatos to let him know they planned to leave that Saturday. Barbatos was more than happy to help them, and glad to hear you were so excited. Saturday came quickly. You gripped Satan's hand tightly and skipped to the palace, dragging him behind you. You had on a small backpack filled with essentials that Satan knew he would inevitably end up carrying at some point, but he didn’t mind. He was just happy that you were happy. Once you reach the palace, and made it to the human world, you were quick to take Satan to all of your favorite places.

First, you took him to your favorite bookstore growing up. You knew he'd be just as obsessed as you were and still was. There were book stacked up to the ceiling, and were somewhat categorized. The tights aisles forced you to walk one behind the other, but you still never let go of his hand. The two of you easily spend an hour along in the section with Sherlock Holmes. Once you were done in there, you took him to your favorite ice cream place. The beach you often watched the sunset on with your family was nearby, and while it wasn't sunset quite yet, you figured the two of you could still get something and enjoy the view.

After a little more wandering around, you were getting hungry since ice cream isn't really filling, so you took him to a cafe that held more memories as a teenager to you. After school, you'd meet up with friends there for projects, or for just in general when you weren't quite ready to go home yet. While the two of you were chatting, cuddled up side by side, enjoying a coffee each, you happened to see a familiar face.

"Mc?" You turned after hearing a familiar voice.

"Mom! What a surprise seeing you!" You got up to hug her. Satan looked at the woman you'd happily greeted. He could see the resemblance. The two of you chatted for a bit, standing beside your table. Evenutally, she turned to him.

"Who's this? Sorry for ignoring you, dear." The tenderness she addressed him with hit him like a brick. He was almost certain that Mc's immediate family knew about the exchange program, but he still looked to them to check. After they gave him a little nod, he introduced himself.

"I'm Satan, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your child is lovely." He stood up to shake her hand, the small backpack falling over since he stood up so fast. She hugged him instead, ignoring his outstretched hand.

"No need to be so formal. Anyone who's good enough for Mc is good enough for me. Besides, demon or not, you're one of the family. That reminds me, the two of you need to spend the night, if you can extend your day trip. The rest of the family hasn't seen you in a while and they'll be excited to meet you, dear." She pulled back so she could hold both of your hands in hers.

Mc looked at Satan, imploring him to agree. "I think I can make that happen." He nodded with a smile. He had never felt so welcome somewhere he'd never been. Mc began squealing and almost jumping on the spot. Satan got his second hug from Mc that day, and his third total. After agreeing to meet up at Mc's childhood home at five pm, you parted ways. The both of you sat back down, and as you began chattering about your family, Satan sent a few messages to Barbatos letting him know they'd be back tomorrow at some time.

Before he knew it, five rolled around and they made the short walk to the place Mc grew up. They skipped up to the doorstep, and he followed at a little bit of a slower pace. He couldn't help but be nervous. But, as soon as that door swung open, he immediately knew he would always be welcome there. After being greeted by a hoard of people that look like Mc at the door, they were ushered in. After being briefly separated to chat with different people, they were reunited at the dinner table when it was time to eat. It was heartwarming to see Mc in their element, surrounded by their family. He felt almost bad to have taken them away from something like this. He got to see his family everyday, but they didn't. It seemed, unfair, in a way. Before they knew it, it was time to head to bed.

"Night guys! See you all tomorrow morning." You waved to the crowd in the living room, and grabbed Satan by the hand to free him from the gaggle of uncles surrounding him. A few of them chuckled at how easily he went with you. Your mom passed you two towels and waved you both after her up the stairs.

"You should still have clothing in your drawers since you didn't take everything with you, and if you need something for him, let me know. I can borrow something from your father's wardrobe. Sweet dreams, angel. It truly feels like a miracal being able to see you today." She kissed Mc's forehead. That simple act warmed him. Sometimes, he considered Mc to be his angel too, someone he didn’t deserve.

"Night, Mom." They smiled.

"Good night, ma'am. Thank you for your hospitality." Satan chimed in, not wanting to seem rude.

"No need for the formalities. You're practically family. Now, go get some rest." She walked off after leaving them in front of a shut door together. Satan had almost assumed he would be walked to a different door.

"This is my childhood bedroom. Promise not to laugh?" Mc put their hand on the doorknob.

"The fact that you had to ask makes me curious, but yes." They swung open the door to be greeted by a colorful, cute room that had been designed for what looks like a toddler. The decor looked like it was for a teenager, but the walls were painted like a forest, with forest creatures scattered. "It's cute in here." He took in the entire room. Mc glanced away, bashful.

"You should go shower quickly, before everyone downstairs moves up to bed." They opened one of the dresser drawers, and passed him a large hoodie and pair of sweatpants. He chuckled, but let you push him towards the bathroom. Once both of you had showered and changed, you were in your room again together.

You pulled back the covers of your bedspread, wiggling under it, and avoiding Satan's gaze. "I can sleep on the floor, if that makes you more comfortable." He said.

"No, no. It's fine. That would be unfair to you." You wave him off and pat the bed softly.

"You could've told them we weren't dating. I wouldn't have been offended, Mc." He tried his best to hide the smile on his face.

"Well, they seemed to really love you. I just couldn't break their hearts like that. Besides, I actually don't mind that idea..." You trailed off shyly.

"Hmm, what was that?" He decided to tease you a little.

"Nothing! Nothing, 'tan." You laugh a little.

“Well, seeing as everything is usually about me, and my dysfunctional family, tell me all about yours.” That seemed to do the trick to ease you. As he settled into bed next to you, you began to talk about family member he’d met downstairs. It was no wonder you fit in with his family so well. You knew each member of both of your families like the back of your hand, down to every detail. It really showed how much you payed attention to detail and cared.

As you fell asleep with a quick apology and a yawn, he remained awake. You were facing each other, so he was able to see your facial features and the awkward way your arms rested. He moved the blanket up higher over your shoulders, studying your features with a small smile.

Despite being a demon, he couldn’t help but feel blessed by some divine power out there to be graced with someone as sweet, and caring as you. Watching your chest rise and fall, he brushed your hair aside a little. The domesticity of this, and of everything that day had entailed made him fall more and more for you. Just being in your presence was enchanting.

He could get used to this. The next morning would be even more fun, since he knew you weren’t exactly an early riser. With a sigh, he shut his own eyes, but not before he put one of his arms around you. He was so grateful for you.

[syoddeye]

useless, part three

Part three (and the finale!) of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. As a reminder, I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. I finally used my third prompt.

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years

14. Opposites attract

66. Price or Reader is auctioned off for a date as part of a fundraiser

cw: one pregnancy mention (Reader does not get pregnant, has never been pregnant)

Read Part One, Part Two. Tag list: @v1x3n @kiranezra

~4.2k words, Price x f!Reader. This is the most self-indulgent shit I've written in awhile. Please enjoy.

It's past midnight when you limp through the front door of your flat, dropping belongings and articles of clothing alike, shedding both the weight of personhood and your eighteen-hour day. You set your keys down on the end of the counter, ignoring the thin folder for the umpteenth time. James will undoubtedly text about it in the morning, his patronizing messages more reliable than any alarm clock. A half-hour commute home, and you didn't even glance at your phone in fear of accidentally seeing another email from his lawyer. Solicitor. Whatever.

Hamhock slinks out from his lair beneath the bed, weaving between your ankles when you drag yourself into the bathroom.

"Hello Hammy," You whisper, eyeing the newer crop of gray hairs near your roots with a weary neutrality. Definitely the fundraiser's fault. Your hair started to change long before this year's planning began, but this is the longest period you've gone without dyeing it. One thing to thank James for. Not only did his departure give you a crystal clear focus, it freed you from his ridiculous expectations. He'd've commented the moment he spotted the wisps of silver, then casually worked something like anti-aging cream into the conversation.

The prick poisoned the well, and now the only man in the world for you currently lies at your feet. How it should've been from the start, really.

After checking the orange menace's automatic feeder, you slip into bed, allow him to assume his nocturnal throne—your armpit—and plug your phone in one-handed. Your eyes glaze over at the sight of notifications, thumb swiping by muscle memory, and set an alarm. With two weeks left until the big day and more than a hundred unsold tickets, you need every moment you can get. You sigh, counting the tasks of the day ahead instead of sheep.

You'll sign the divorce papers tomorrow.

~~

Naomi practically forces the granola bar into your hands. The assistant stage manager and the props lead—the younger woman is the glue to your glue. A newer fixture at the Bramble Theatre, she was you to an extent, maybe a decade ago: fresh-faced, eager, and optimistic.

"I didn't like how you were looking at the wax fruit."

"We should swap the oranges for plums. Or pears."

"We've been through this. The oranges fit the palette, from the paintings to Dotty's–oh, quit pulling my leg."

You grin, then jut your chin at the stack of slips in her hand. "Are those the waivers? Did all the volunteers sign?"

"Yes, I can post headshots today on socials, so that should boost sales."

"Good. That's one fire extinguished," Rubbing your temple, you lean back in your chair. "I feel gross about it, though. I mean, we run shows that are hundreds of years old, but a date auction? Why don't we raise a guillotine out front and sacrifice effigies to raise money?"

Naomi blinks and whips out her phone. "...Okay, one, I'm noting the effigy idea for next year, but two, the auction won the vote, and everyone participating volunteered."

You grimace. "I know, it's just–"

The sudden opening of the door to your shoebox office interrupts. Theodore, business manager, director, and occasional movement coach, bursts in. Everybody's a multi-hyphenate.

"Terrible news!"

Wonderful. A new fire. You squint, chewing, and watch Naomi try to stifle a laugh valiantly. "Whatever could this be about?"

The older man slams his palms onto your desk, his layered pendants tinkling. "I've punched the numbers, including a best scenario, stars aligning–"

"Teddy. Out with it."

"–we're going to be £40,000 short. Even if we sell out, even if we raffle off the company like cattle, we are circling the drain!"

The tired amusement leaves your body, and in its wake sits a five-digit number and the distant idea to schedule a salon appointment.

The annual fundraiser for the theater, your hard-won home, is a dramatic, demanding, and near-disastrous event every year. The theater has continuously operated a hair above the red, but the laundry list of expenses from the last year cannot be ignored. The new light rig, the stage flooring replacement, the curtain repairs—they never stop. Sponsors and grants only go so far.

Originally, you took this job for its laughable but slightly higher pay and because running around like a madwoman between four gigs at a time wasn't as thrilling or charmingly bohemian as it was in your twenties. Your livelihood depends on the playhouse's success. And the economy. And the general public's attitude toward the arts. All wildly variable. It made you resourceful, and already, you were composing a mental list of people to politely bully for pledges promised in years past. You need time and a phone charger.

"Teddy," you set the half-eaten granola bar down. "Go get ready for afternoon rehearsal. Naomi, cover for me today?"

"'Course."

Theodore swipes his spindly fingers over his brow, nodding fervently at your resolve. "If anyone can pull it off, it's you. Do tell if there is anything yours truly can do." With a flourish, the director departs your office, but Naomi lingers.

"You know if it's donations we need…"

You shake your head, immediately knowing what she intends to suggest. "Out of the question."

"But think of her–"

"I'd rather debase myself and resort to dinner theatre."

"I'm just saying–"

"Naomi," You stress. "I am not calling my mother."

She frowns. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Are you really so proud you wouldn't leverage your family's connections to save the Bramble?"

It makes you pause. As usual, she's right. Irritatingly so. You could take another salary cut, but you'd need to find a flatshare, a humiliating idea. Hammy wouldn't survive it, the sensitive thing. You sigh and dismiss her with a wave.

"Fine I won't rule it out. But I'm going to shake down half the city first."

~~

An hour later, you've managed to secure a percentage. Not too shabby, but far from the goal. You take a break to read James's team's latest, vaguely threatening missives and entertain the idea of withholding your signature until he makes a donation. What's a little extortion in the name of art?

You know it's wrong to delay this ugly process. How close relief is should you simply sign the papers. But it's another failure, another black spot in your life's ledger. Another dream crushed beneath the boot of reality. With a wave of bitterness, you type out a curt reply, ensuring you will sign the papers and ask them to arrange for a courier tomorrow.

Naomi's suggestion takes advantage of your mind's lethargy, testing the strength of your will and stubbornness. The last time you phoned your mother was months ago, on the anniversary of dad's death. The old man took his last bow five years back, and it destroyed the last bridge between you and your formidable mother. In retirement, she still holds court with major political players stateside…and across the pond.

Before you let your loathing catch up, you pull up her contact card and dial. It's after noon in D.C., the middle of the week. You might get lucky and reach her voice–

"Is everything alright? You're not in the hospital, are you?" Her donnish, sharp voice hurtles you through time and space to your teenage years. 

"No," You answer with gritted teeth. A headache waits in the wings. "No, I'm fine, mom."

"Then why are you calling?"

This is why dad handled conversations. You stand, swiftly shutting the door to your office and locking it. "Can't I just call my mom?"

"Of course. Historically, you do not," There's a low murmur of chatter in the background. She's at a luncheon or at the club. "So I assume there is a reason."

Having an ex-ambassador for a mother is a joke. All that practised charm for everyone else in the world, none of it reserved for you. "Okay, yes, there is a reason."

"Thought so. Well, darling, what is it? Is it James? Don't tell me you're pregnant."

You return to your desk and eye the bottle of bourbon on the corner. "No. James and I are divorcing, remember? This is about my work."

There is no acknowledgement of the separation. Instead, your mother pulls the phone away from her mouth, excuses herself from wherever she is, and the background noise dissipates. 

"Your work."

"Yes, the Bramble? Look, we're two weeks out from our big annual fundraiser, and–"

"Oh, you need me to write a check." The clicking of her heels halts abruptly, and if you didn't know any better, she wilts. "Fine. How much do you want?"

Your face heats with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "I am not asking for money. If you would stop interrupting me…Ugh, mom, I need help contacting some of your old friends here. If there's anyone you know looking for tax deductions or a pet project to brag about, the Bramble is in a bad spot financially."

In the past, whenever the theatre and, by extension, your chosen profession came up, your mother took the opportunity to lecture. She reminded you of the wasted opportunities she afforded you. She brought up your old schoolmates and their current positions. And most insulting of all, she always, always compared you to a certain soldier. Bracing yourself for her monologuing, you reached for the bottle.

"Why didn't you open with that, darling?"

Your fingers close around empty air, and you nearly pitch out of your seat in surprise. "What?"

"Send me the information. I've been meaning to reconnect with some old friends. When is the fundraiser?"

"In two weeks," You repeat, scrambling to pull up your email on the ancient desktop. "Tickets are–"

"Email it. I'll book my flights today and let you know when I'm getting in."

Your hands hover over the keyboard, and your neck protests the angle it bends to keep your phone lodged between ear and shoulder. "Oh, no, mom, you don't need to come."

"Nonsense. I'll, of course, make my own donation, and as a donor, I ought to see where my money is going."

Christ. For the Bramble, you remind yourself and exhale. "Okay. You do that. Listen, I have to get going…but mom?" It kills you to say it. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome. Oh, this will be so much fun. I haven't visited since before your father. You know, on the topic of reconnecting, I happened get an email from the Prices the other day, and John–"

There it is. You kick into fourth gear, rattling off your exit. "I've really got to run. Thanks again mom, send me your flight info. Love you. Bye!"

You feel like you've run a marathon and dodged a bullet. And yet, as you send the email and file the waivers, your mind snags on your mother's words. On a name. His name. It's not the first time your unhelpful brain's waylaid you with a trip down memory lane. Admittedly, it's happened more since James asked for the divorce. Most nights, if it isn't life's stresses hounding you, it's an endless parade of what-ifs behind your eyelids.

What if you studied economics instead? What if you stayed in America? What if you hadn't gone to that stupid New Year's party? What if you hadn't kissed John? If you didn't get on the train? 

The people in your circle frequently speak about living life without regrets. It's a romantic notion and a highly unrealistic one.

Your phone buzzes—Naomi. You're needed. Pushing the past where it belongs, back on a dark shelf, and head out to put out another fire. 

~~ 

Three days before the fundraiser, your mother lands in London and hosts you at her hotel for dinner. Playing catch-up is a professional sport with a whirlwind of names you barely remember and memories you remember very differently.

You pick at dessert, listening to another story.

"–and he was so insistent that that school of yours was a breeding ground for monsters, and I told him, isn't that what's needed in today's society? People need thick skin in politics and business. You'll be happy to know, though, he bought four tickets to the fundraiser."

You don't remember who you're talking about but smile and nod. It's a tough pill to swallow, your mother's success at rallying old friends with deep pockets. Teddy's practically in love with her despite having never met her, popping his bald head into your office to sing her praises whenever another pledge arrives.

Your response is rote. "That's wonderful, mom. Thank you."

She prattles on for another half hour before you decide it's time to return home to Hamhock and burn the midnight oil on the fundraiser's date auction. You asked the company for fifty-word bios and actors, bless them, struggle to contain their self-praises. When she finally pauses to take a sip of wine, you rise. "I should head home, lots to do–"

Ignoring you outright, her head turns, and she grins. "There you are!"

Following her gaze, your brow lowers in confusion until you clap eyes on a trio headed in your direction in the company of a server. Very briefly, you consider the melodramatics of matricide. You've been set up.

Mr. and Mrs. Price look well for their age, puttering toward your mother. They are greyer and a little shorter, but the warmth is there.

John, however…

The universe is intent on humbling you.

The hair is the first thing you notice. Short, kempt, and annoyingly a dark shade of brown. It's crept southward onto his face in a beard of a choice style. There is comfort in the finer details that clarify as he nears. He hasn't escaped time's passing with a face marked by crow's feet, frown lines, and forehead furrows. Beneath his shirt, there's a slight suggestion of a belly, though, with his thick arms and the narrowing of his waist, he's clearly a wall of muscle.

The worst part is how infuriatingly kind his smile looks. It's the beard. Softens him. Once an arrogant prick, always an arrogant prick.

John rumbles your name in a whisper, reeling you in for a polite peck on the cheek. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

You're years beyond fifteen and twenty-five, but how swiftly the impulse to snark resurfaces is alarming. Maturity tempers you. "You look good, too."

After a few minutes of greetings, the two of you are tasked with heading to the bar to fetch drinks. Wholly unnecessary what with a server, but it's a clear command to let the 'adults' talk for a spell. Nevermind being shy of forty. John's quick to try conversation when the order's in.

"You haven't changed a bit," He observes, leaning against the bar beside you. 

"Now there's something a woman wants to hear after a decade." You huff, casting your eyes across the restaurant, finding it difficult to look at him. The dark blue of his sweater makes his eyes pop.

"Fourteen years, actually," He corrects. "Drinking martinis, actin'…"

You snort. "You're half right. The Martini half."

His elbow gently knocks into yours atop the bar. "Apologies. My mother told me you'd been in My Fair Lady last summer."

That draws your attention. "No. The theater put it on, but I'm the stage manager. I haven't been on stage in ages." Your eyes flicker to the table, then back to him. Heat crawls up your collar. What other information has your mother passed along? Glancing down at your bare ring finger, you turn the conversation. "Not so different from a Captain, I reckon. How's that going?"

John squints a little, and his mouth pulls into a familiar smirk, tugging at old strings in your stomach. "Can't complain."

"Riveting stuff," He chuckles at that, a deep rasping sound, and you find yourself grinning. "Don't suppose that bit of clandestine, secret agent-type shit your mom's talked about?"

"Secret agent?"

"Yeah. Mentioned it in a Christmas card maybe three years ago?" You smile triumphantly into your glass. Seems both your mothers have a penchant for dressing up the truth.

His jaw works a tick, and something heavy passes behind his eyes. "Well, 'm not. Not exactly."

"Let me guess. If you told me, you'd have to kill me?"

He refocuses some, and a short laugh leaves him. "Something like that."

It's all painfully familiar, but it feels different with a little more life under your belt. His mere presence keeps you on your toes, yet you haven't felt this comfortable in months. For all the history and tension, talking to him is easy. A silence passes, the drinks arrive, and you ferry them to the table.

The night passes better than you expected when you first saw the Prices. They express belated condolences over your father, you chat about the fundraiser, and John politely navigates questions about his work. It frightens you when he briefly mentions Piccadilly to know he'd been there in the carnage. Part and parcel of military life, you guess. 

"John, be a gentleman and walk her to the station," His mother chides as the five of you congregate in the hotel lobby.

"He doesn't need to do that," You hastily say. Not again.

"'Course."

There is something dreadfully giddy to how your parents wish you both goodnight.

At least you do not need to take his arm this time. Still, there is no way John isn't thinking about that night. Not when that look of quiet desperation he wore is seared within your memory. It's silly, but you peeked at his hands earlier, and like yours, they're naked.

You break the silence to fish. "How long are you on leave?"

"A week. Got in yesterday."

"Do you normally visit your parents?"

"Often."

Doesn't mean there isn't a woman in his life. 'Often' is not 'always'. 

"Visit anyone else? Friends?"

He chuckles. "Sometimes."

You roll your eyes. "You know, you haven't changed much either. Aside from the beard and smoker's lung. Still a stunning conversationalist."

John smirks down at you. "Picked it up in the army."

Oh, yes. He remembers.

The conversation lulls, and the walk is short. You figure John's keen on a repeat when he wordlessly escorts you to the platform. But today's not a holiday, and the station is reasonably busy. He watches like a hawk, nonetheless, when you check the time.

"Brings back memories," He quietly comments.

Nodding, your thumb rubs where your wedding band used to rest. "Sure does." You respond and meet his gaze.

You studied theater, moved back to London, went to the party, and kissed John. You didn't regret those choices—only one.

The invitation flies out of you as your train emerges from the tunnel.

"Do you want to meet Hamhock?"

~~

"He's…certainly orange."

"Don't rush to spend all your compliments at once," You glare, arms full of Ham, then coo at the cat. "John's jealous because he's going grey in the beard."

"I am not."

"Saw them on the Tube. Can't those from me," You tease and set the cat down, giving your kitchen a quick glance. A silver lining of work eating up your schedule is that you last cleaned two weeks ago, and it's held.

"What're those on your head then?" He gestures with a finger and toes off his shoes. 

"Details of a person ageing gracefully." You play it confidently, but part of you holds a breath.

He hums and sidesteps Hamhock. "Suits you. It's pretty."

Maybe inviting him over is a mistake. The bolt that runs through you from the compliment pokes at something you thought buried. "What a gentleman," You try to inject as much sarcasm as possible, but your voice quivers. "I'll be right back. Sit tight?"

You leave John in the kitchen to retreat to the bathroom to regroup. Come on, you scold yourself over the basin for getting worked up. It's just John. 

And yet, what remains of your confidence perches on a cliffside at the sight of John pointedly staring at the folder of your copies of the divorce papers on the counter. Fantastic.

His small smile is genuinely sympathetic. It's enraging.

"Y'know, I knew you were married…When I didn't see a ring at the hotel, though, I wondered."

Your chest tightens, and you shove the folder into a bookshelf. "Yep. Finalized the divorce two-ish weeks ago."

You're not in the mood to be reminded of your failures.

"Sorry it didn't work out," John murmurs.

"That's life. That's how it works sometimes," You exhale, then force a smile. "Want a drink? Bourbon? Wine?"

He lets you change the subject, and you let him have a glass of whiskey.

You sit on opposite ends of your short couch, Hamhock acting as a gentlemanly barrier. The conversation rekindles itself after a few fingers of liquor, and eventually, John migrates to the floor, idly playing with the cat. You confide in him about your worries about the event and whether the funds raised will be enough, and he listens. There is no condescension, no bulldozing. Not a trace of smugness at all when he makes suggestions. You don't realize how you've slipped into an old, practically ancient formation until he peers back, eyes creasing from laughter. You're fifteen again, and it is useless to deny it – you are regrettably in love with John Price.

"Can I confess something?" He suddenly asks as your cat waddles off with a catnip toy in his mouth.

Your heart lurches. "If it's a crime, I'm a terrible conspirator." 

"No. Nothin' like that, but I lied earlier." He chuckles, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. "My mother didn't tell me about My Fair Lady."

"What do you mean?"

John turns sheepish. "I came an' saw it when I was on leave last summer. Thought I'd surprise you, but I got to the theater and lost my nerve."

Instantly, you pick through scraps of memories from the production. There is no way you would have known he was in attendance, not with how hellishly busy you are. 

"You, Captain John Price, lost your nerve?"

Color blooms high on his cheeks, and he turns on the floor, rubbing his neck. "I knew you're not acting but I didn't know how to mention it without soundin' like a prick." His eyes look soft. Different from how they looked that night in his parent's garden. Steady, unwavering, but soft. "I know I'm not good with words. I seem to have a talent for making you angry. But I really am happy to see you. Didn't think I'd get another chance after how I bungled it all those years ago at the train–"

At your grown ages, the angle of the kiss is inadvisable. The two of you fix it without parting, and his hands cup your face when you're finally standing toe-to-toe. 

He touches your foreheads together when breathing becomes necessary. "Change anything?"

You don't answer. You lead him to your bedroom and exile the cat.

~~

The fundraiser goes off with a predictable amount of hitches. The caterer is an hour late and forgets half the hors d'oeuvres. The bar runs out of red wine early. Two actors from the children's company slap-fight on stage. Nothing you, Naomi, and Teddy can't fix with elbow grease and stage magic. The caterers re-course. Naomi calls in a favor from her bartender girlfriend. And the children forget their quarrel when they're called upon to defeat Captain Hook.

What you are not prepared for is one of the actors calling out sick, leaving you one date short for the auction. You waste an hour trying to convince one of your fellow techies to step in.

Naomi corners you when you stress-eat a comically tiny piece of toast swiped from a tray. 

"You know, if one person is all we need…"

"Your girlfriend won't be mad?"

"Ha-ha, don't get cheeky. C'mon, isn't it time you got back out there?" 

You suppress a smug smile. Naomi has no idea. Nobody does. You've gotten back out there and then some. 

"Did I not tell you I was grossed out by the auction?"

She's relentless. "Are you really so proud you wouldn't debase yourself a little for the Bramble?"

"Absolutely not."

You'd said it with such conviction, so it's a puzzle when you find yourself waiting in the stage wing, makeup hurriedly refreshed. It takes all your courage and grace not to stumble to Teddy's side when he calls your name. He improvises an introduction on the fly, and you nearly laugh when you realize this is the first time you've been on the stage, under a spotlight, in years.

The bidding opens, and you hold your breath, letting it go when a few unfamiliar voices call out numbers. A humbling embarrassment clutches you by the throat. But then a paddle raises more confidently in the front row. The light is bright, but you know whose hand hoists it high.

~~

He collects you at the end of the night as you lock up.

"There's my prize."

You can't stop the grin that splits your face. "It's just a date, John."

"Yeah, doin' things a bit out of order, aren't we?" A glimmer of his younger, puffed-up self shines through, and his hand envelops yours.

As you walk, your elbow digs into his ribs, "What will our mothers say?"

"That a big deal to you?"

"To some people."

"Well, love, you're not 'some people'."

[adawngswife]

sean diaz fluff alphabet (rq)

(A) attractive - what do they find attractive about u? how do they show this?

sean is attracted to anyone or anything that deviates the norm. dyed hair, unique background/perspective, and unconventional features. literally anything u think is unattractive and not up to the beauty standard about u, he probably rlly digs it. hell draw it in his journal always! but not in a way that comes across performative—he just draws u authentically. he doesnt feel the need to modify how u look in his art bc he thinks ure perfect as is (booo corny).

he shows his attraction through flesh-blazing, skull-burning staring. he analyzes his muses thoroughly after all... he knows where all ur freckles/moles are and can draw ur smile from sheer memory. in the months that he crushed on u, u couldn’t help but feel this pestering feeling of being watched in class constantly.

hes still a dorky teenage boy so if u share the same music taste as him or have the same hobbies hell geek out!! “no way she can skate AND listens to my favorite songs…” lyla will just roll his eyes at him in response. he acts like tom from 500 days of summer 😭

(B) baby - how do they act around kids?

sean definitely says he hates kids. hell talk about how annoying they are and use daniel as an example ALWAYS. that however does not hide the fact that he is REALLY good with kids. i wouldnt say its in a fatherly way but kids tend to look up to him as a cool older brother (even when he doesnt try to be one).

sean also secretly loves it when ur good with kids, despite him allegedly hating them. he cant help but grin ear-to-ear when he sees how happy u make daniel. once he becomes self-aware he tries to wipe his smile off asap. when u, sean, and daniel go out u guys are practically his parents. both of u know how to shut down daniels whining fast. albeit sean does more of the hushed, frustrated demands and u just try to defuse daniel.

(if u guys have ever seen the video of jake and tara with that baby thats how i imagine u guys with kids 😈 except ur both a mix of tara n jake)

(C) cuddle - how do they like to cuddle?

honestly the two of u can never decide who’s big spooning and who’s little spooning. to solve this issue the two of u just kind of… stack on top of each other.

esteban will do his routine dad check up on the two of u (preventing teen pregnancy) and walk into u guys jenga-ed on top of each other. ur legs are a tangled mess and u look like two corpses laid on top of each other. scrolling through ur phones while stacked is the go-to. ull be muffled chuckling into sean’s stomach at random videos for an hour…

while cuddling sean always traces little drawings/words on ur body. when u ask him whats hes drawing hell probably say its a dick LMFAO. so romantic 🙄

at the beginning of ur relationship, sean always felt the need to be the “man” and cradle u like some big infant. overtime he got more comfortable and whenever u guys watch movies on the couch hell be sprawled out on top of ur lap. one arm up supporting his head and a leg propped up like a princess xoxo

(D) dates - what are dates with them like? what do they like to do?

concerts, fairs!!! and MOVIES for sure

sean casually drops half his check on good seats for one of ur guys favorite band. the two of u have a tradition of replaying their music for weeks until the concerts about to start. it literally does not matter how many times uve gone to concerts with sean—u guys stay excited every single time. the after concert high is so good and u guys always kiss in the car afterwards. the two of u mess up each other’s hair and shuffle back in ur seats with swollen lips. sean backs out the parking lot while awkwardly clearing his throat 😭

SEAN IS SUCH A BIG FAIR GUY. he gives less than two shits if the pop-up fairs are shady and will probably collapse at the slightest gust of wind. he WILL take u on all the janky rides and tease u for being freaked out. he holds ur hand while giggling like a lil boy on the ferris wheel bc the creaking starts to freak the both of u out. he also tries to win fair prizes for u and say its a “bullshit scam” when he loses.

u beg him to go into the photobooth and take cute little couple-esque photos. he says “fineee” after some convincing with a smile and he avoids ur gaze after too. he definitely secretly wanted to the whole time though!! when they print out, they come out with those face-adjusting filters. u guys are WHEEZING laughing in front of the slot where they regurgitate out those abominations. sean puts it on the back of his phone case bc he thinks its so hilarious 😭

sean is a film nerd considering he had goodlands on his laptop. hes definitely up to date on any movie releases and will want to watch anything new with u. u guys always dissect the movie aggressively afterwards. the both of u will forever and always argue about which characters u liked and didnt over some takeout.

(E) equal - are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

sean on the regular is passive. he never was the “dominant” type to like… back u into corners. in fact he was really awkward when u first met him. hes lowkey scared of women 😭

it took him a while to get comfortable/assertive. by “comfortable” i mean gaining the ability to tease u back LMAO. when he first gave u a snarky remark ur jaw kind of hung open and u guys HAVENT STOPPED SINCE. overall, sean usually was the one to wait for u to initiate something. he never wanted to put u in a situation ud be uncomfortable with.

(F) fight - would they be easy to forgive their s/o? how are they fighting?

u guys fight like an old married couple. playful arguments always happen but once it becomes serious/personal things go south. one thing leads to another and the two of u just get agitated with each other

when u guys do seriously fight sean eventually lets u have ur way ALWAYS. he always prioritizes what u need/feel in the end and is really good at saying sorry. a part of him feels like big fights indicate ull leave him so hell always choke out things like “i just dont wanna lose you” after arguments. it sounds really dramatic but he has DEEP-rooted abandonment issues. hell hold u—whether it be an embrace or ur hand just to feel comforted afterwards.

(G) gentle - how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

GAWWWWWWWWWDAUH sean is so incredibly very gentle. sure, he teases u sometimes but in the end, again, he always makes sure ur comfortable! he asks u if ur okay when u look clearly overstimulated/out of it.

physically, sean doesnt mess around. he will constantly playfully shove u, mess with ur hair, etc. obviously its never to the point where it hurts but this is the only way he can get his daily dose of pda, so!

(H) hugs - do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

sean is crazy on back hugs. he will always surprise u with one and he WILL trap u in it. ull be walking around his house and chatting with his leech-self wrapped around u. he likes nuzzling his nose in and u can feel his lips curl into a smile on the nape of ur neck when u make a joke (😢)

sean takes the opportunity to embrace u at any moment of privacy hes given. when daniel or esteban catches him he immediately flings off u and starts stuttering LMAO. hes kind of lanky so if anything his clothes are what cushion u. BUT he is very warm and is a personal heater #tbh. who needs a coat when u have sean???

(I) i love you - how fast did they say the l-word?

i feel sean is VERY quick to fall in love but takes forever to actually utter the words out. he will have a love at first sight moment with u and only have the feelings grow bigger and bigger as time goes on. sean is overall a reserved person and wouldnt go out of his way to tell u, no matter how much lyla encouraged him.

he would only say it once it becomes overbearing for him. like, to the point where the extent he loves u has become pervasive and PERSISTENT. it will just explode out of him at some pivotal moment. u guys will be laughing hysterically at something only u guys would laugh at. then, boom, it slips out like its something he had to swallow back down a hundred times before. because its so sudden, it will definitely catch u off guard.

he would repeat it because he didnt think u heard it the first time like a dork. his stomach acid is doing fucking somersaults at this point. u will visibly see this guy’s face drop and his hands start to fiddle anxiously. his eyes will kind of dart all over ur shocked face in fear. he’ll choke a lil “sorry i have no clue why i even said that-“

u lean in and the rest is history 🤓

(J) jealousy - how jealous do they get? when do they get jealous?

sean is always a bit wary of specific guy friends or potential suitors u have in ur life. again, sean picks up on LOTS that most people brush over. he knows when people flirt with u and he always bites his tongue before he says anything.

whenever u talk about other people too much, he gets a little… sassy. ull be thanking some guy in ur class for giving u the answers and hell be grumbling “i wouldve gave them to u…” under his breath. u shoot a look at him and he just defensively puts his arms up LMAO. he never seems to stop either. the amount of times u caught him rolling his eyes… criminal.

(K) kisses - what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss u? where do they like to be kissed?

sean is so shy when it comes to kisses. when u first began dating, sean never kissed u without a shy “can i?” before. he never knew when was appropriate or if u wanted to kiss him at all. his ears would flare up in red and his eyebrows would furrow in concentration each time.

overtime, as he got more comfortable, sean began finding the “right times” himself. whenever u leave his house he always gives u a quick peck. daniel never misses his opportunity to scream “EWW” as loud as he can. sean will be like “one more” and smooch ur cheek and then say “wait another one” and just KEEP GOING. if he wore lipstick u would look like u were dunked in a pig’s blood.

smiling into the kiss happens without fail—every single time. sean cant help himself, hes a lover boy!! he will always slowly open his eyes and pray u wont catch him sneaking a look. once he pulls away, he laughs while covering his mouth with his wrist. he gets butterflies still, no matter how many times u kiss 😭 im sick.

(L) love language - what is his love language?

sean’s family is big on quality time so he definitely prioritizes it. impromptu hangouts are his absolute favorite and if he could, hed spend every hour he could with u. sean never fails to randomly invite u over and hold u at gunpoint to do family time with him, daniel, and esteban.

also sean is a big gift giver! he will always give u doodles of ur favorite characters and little things that remind him of u. u guys have matching pins, keychains, bracelets, etc. not only does he go all out, but he also knows EXACTLY what u like. again, sean is the most attentive bf ever. hes the kind of man who would spend hours making coraline dolls of u two.

(M) mornings - how are mornings spent with him?

sean is not a morning person. he is almost always running late to first period, so oftentimes u cover for him. he will come to class with messy hair and will lizard-blink at literally anything u say. when u tell him that u gave the teacher an excuse, hell let out a croak-ey "thanks" and he will on a 99% chance knock out right after. he'll probably dazily open his eyes at u every so often and go back to sleep LMAO.

on weekends, sean will... barely be awake for mornings. ull be up and ready, watching hawt dawg man on the couch with daniel while eating cereal. sean shortly comes out of his mancave, stretching and yawning. hell come to lean on ur shoulder and stare blankly at the screen. its never particularly productive but sean couldnt care less honestly.

(N) nicknames -what does he call u?

sean has a disdain for nicknames. uttering any of them out loud just seemed so embarrassing to him… unless he’s making fun of them. he does however love “girlfriend.” its not exactly a nickname but he loves saying ur his girlfriend or “my girlfriends coming over” to people.

at a certain point he started using it in sentences that wouldn’t make sense. he’d go “hi girlfriend” every time he sees u. he’s so stew peed… 😢

(O) on cloud nine what is he like when he’s in love? is it obvious for others?

lyla never hears the end of u. shell be talking about something entirely unrelated and sean will be disassociating with his mouth open. when he finally snaps back into reality the first thing that comes out of his mouth is “do u think she would find it a turn off that u drive me everywhere?…“

“yeah obviously— were u even listening sean?”

“mm okay…” he just goes back to tuning her out again LMAO.

esteban will be asking for his tools from sean and he’d be totally zoned out just thinking about u. esteban will pull himself out from under the car and groan “augh… lover boy…” without sean even saying anything to him… so yes hes obvious.

(P) pda - is he upfront about your relationship? does he brag about you with others? or he rather shy to kiss, etc. when others are watching?

i already wrote on this but sean would rather keep intimate contact privately. that is, unless hes really in the heat of the moment. for example, at a concert hed just get so riled up. the lyrics of the song perfectly aligning with the way he feels about u MIGHTTT just make him collide lips with u, who knows! at special moments he won’t hesitate to kiss u but he’s just usually not a show-ey person.

too many times have the two of u attempted to sneak away to be romantic alone and gotten caught. whether it be lyla, esteban, daniel, or any of sean’s guy friends—they always tease u guys. lyla is so dramatic and she’d probably do the most, screaming and squawking when all she sees is sean hugging u 😭

(Q) quizzes - how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?

just like i mentioned earlier, sean remembers every little thing. he knows which side of ur smile leans more toward, the distinctive mole on ur arm, etc etc etc. he loves u like how a husband with a camcorder loves his late wife <3

sean has pulled multiple joe goldbergs before u started dating. he will give u some small knick knack of ur favorite video game/show/band and ull thank him, visibly confused on when u mentioned it. hell notice and just go “i heard u talk about it like three months ago.” he only realizes HOURS LATER how creepy he sounded and his ass will start sliding down a wall dramatically in his room.

(R) rosy - what makes them blush?

sean is quick to blush. honestly, any time u guys are intimate in any sort of way his ears are probably burning up. he’ll try to hide that he’s nervous by giving u quick one-liners back but inside his heart is RACING.

(S) security - how protective are they? how would they protect you?

sean goes to great lengths to protect people he loves, like u. in relation to actual life is strange 2 lore, sean definitely does anything in his power to not involve u in the incident. if u try to contact him or find him, he’ll probably be EXTREMELY upset. at first, all he can think about is how much he wants u away from all this mess. he just wants u to live a normal life—and if that meant being far away from him he’d be okay with it. u would beg him to let u back in his life and eventually, with much hesitation, he’d oblige. keeping u alongside daniel on the road allowed u to see another side to sean. he had been hit and came back up so many times just for u. all he wants in his life is to keep u safe.

exempt from life is strange 2 lore, sean always does little things to keep u safe. there are many times where he treats u like daniel—aka a big baby LMAO. he’s big on acts of service as well so he’ll always make u walk on the inside of the sidewalk, hold ur hair away from ur face when it’s windy, help u jump off of places too high up, etc.

(T) try - how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

he’s so bf coded of course he puts maximum effort at all times! he gets crafty for you every anniversary—a collection of drawings of u and a curated playlist/burnt cd is the MINIMUM he’s capable of. he’s the kind of boyfriend that can actually pick up on subtleties. something u mentioned liking once? it’s now in his cart.

when sean feels like switching it up he’ll try to do things he’s not used to like pottery and completely fail 😭. he has some place in the back of his closet for all the clunky diy gifts he’s tried to make for u in the past. despite this, he’ll give u a perfect trinket dish and u’ll wonder how he’s so good at everything… well, one day in his room he’ll ask u to go get something from his closet. u go inside and see a cardboard box with 15 versions of that very same trinket dish he made.

(U) understanding - how well do they know their partner?

sean does his best at understanding you as a person. when u talk about complicated emotions and unique experiences he doesn’t quite share, he’ll have this really pensive expression. he nods along and tries to understand ur perspective to the best of his ability. because of this, its really easy to open up to sean.

sean has you down to a T. hes so so so perceptive and knows when u feel uncomfortable. a small falter in ur smile, the glossy glint in ur eyes, ur lip quivering, he sees it ALL. he will immediately try to get u out of whatever situation ure in.

(V) vanity - how concerned are they with looks?

he could give less than two farts tbh. he loves when u look like a mess, more drawing opportunities for him. he however will make a big deal about looking good in front of u. he will be styling his hair for an hour in front of the mirror before going on a date with u, hogging the bathroom. he also practices the way he approaches u and lays out his outfits to impress u LMAO.

(X) xtra headcanon

sean loves cats so much. if u have a cat, he will spend the whole time at ur house trying to befriend them. bro will be crawling all over ur house on all fours... it gets to the point where u guys can never pass by a petsmart without sean making an impromptu visit to see the cats. plus, u guys have matching cat profile pictures!!!

(Y) yearning - how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

sean coops up and calls and texts u as much as u can. its to the extent where he will send u nonsensical texts just so he can open ur guys' chat. ur phone will be vibrating so much and out of curiosity ull open it to just see random symbols and letters strung together. he'll send u random photos throughout the day that remind him of u and make unplanned video calls. u guys do mundane tasks together in silence for HOURS. they never fail to end with him just falling asleep on call.

(Z) zzz - what are their sleep habits?

sean is NOT a morning person. because daniel’s usually the one that wakes him up, he will slam a pillow into ur face when ur just trying to wake him up. he will open his eyes to see u and mumble a “shit sorry…” and snake his hand around u back into bed. he will hold u PRISONER under those sheets. if u try to shuffle out he will snake another arm around u. u're essentially held hostage until sean decides he wants to set u free... cruel world.

unfortunately i feel like this is very lackluster and COULDVE BEEN BETTER idk. also not proofread so sorry if this was... inchuresting to read... it also sucked me dry so i think i may have to start writing ACTUAL fanfics instead of hcs😢😢😢 thank u if u did enjoy though...

[nahoney22]

Hi! i love your writing and was wondering if you could do the tbb (or just tech if you dont wanna do all of them) reaction to their gender neutral S/O pulling out their old instrument or color guard equipment from their marching band days and practicing what they remember (i dont even know if star wars has an equivalent to marching band/color guard lol but i picked an old practice flag up for the first time since high school earlier and the thought popped into my head for this request..) feel free to disregard this if it’s not something you wanna write, keep up the amazing work!!

Colour Guard Memories

The Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How The Bad Batch react to you pulling out your old instrument or colour guard equipment.

warnings: none, gender neutral reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, Batchers admiring/encouraging reader.

authors note: this is a really cute idea and sorry it has took so long to do anon. In the UK we don’t really have marching bands/ colour guards aside from royal parades from what I know so I’ve relied on Google to help me out 😅 enjoy!

Echo

"Think we've got everything?" Echo asks, sealing the final box of your belongings.

As you survey the sea of packed boxes, you're struck by the realisation of just how many possessions you've gathered over the years. It's only now, in the process of moving out of your family home, that the extent of it hits you. After what feels like an eternity of packing and stacking, you're finally done and you couldn’t be any more grateful for Echo's helping hand.

"I hope so," you reply, wiping your brow and straightening up, hands on your hips. "Now, all that's left is to get it onto the ship." The prospect of lugging boxes onto the ship isn't exactly thrilling, but you're itching to kick back and relax.

Echo chuckles and reaches for one of the sealed boxes, but disaster strikes as the bottom gives way, sending its contents tumbling to the floor. "Well, that's just great," he says wryly.

Letting out a sigh, you join him in gathering up the scattered items. Amidst the chaos, something catches your eye: an old, familiar object. "No way!"

Startled by your sudden excitement, Echo turns to you. "What is it?"

"It's my Sabre!" you exclaim, holding up the cherished item for him to see.

He blinks in surprise. "Uh, your lightsaber?"

You playfully roll your eyes at Echo, a mischievous glint in your eyes, as you take the equipment into your hands and wave it at him. "You've known me long enough to know I'm not a Jedi, Echo," you tease, giving the Sabre a quick twirl. "It's from when I used to be be a colour guard for a marching band."

Echo chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I didn't know you did that."

"Yeah! I loved it. Want to see what I can still do?" you ask, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"The floor's all yours," he says, stepping back to give you space.

You take a moment to steady yourself, feeling the weight of the stainless steel Sabre in your hands. With a deep breath, you begin your routine, the familiar movements flooding back to you. As you twirl the Sabre with practiced precision, you can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. However, in the midst of your performance, disaster strikes as the Sabre slips from your grip, narrowly missing a nearby window.

"Okay, okay, I'm a little rusty. Give me a second," you laugh sheepishly, quickly retrieving the saber and regaining your composure but Echo was still smiling and impressed throughout.

Determined to redeem yourself, you focus on each movement, executing smooth transitions and intricate spins. With each flourish, you feel a sense of satisfaction, the familiar rhythm of the routine bringing back fond memories. As you finally come to a graceful finish, you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

Echo applauds, a smile playing on his lips. "That was really impressive. You should've told me you could do that before."

"We all have our hidden talents," you grin, a twinkle in your eye as you admire the old memory in your hand before carefully tucking it back into the box. "Anyway, we should probably get going before I get distracted again."

“Well,” he says, resting a hand on your shoulder, “you should perform for me again sometime. If you want to that is.”

There’s a shine in his eyes, genuinely in awe of you and your talent. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

Hunter

Low on credits and desperate for some food to fill your stomachs, you and Hunter venture into a bustling market on a remote planet, hoping to find some opportunity to earn a bit of cash.

"See anything?" Hunter asks, strolling alongside you as you take in the sights and sounds of the market.

"Not really," you reply with a frown. The market is dimly lit, offering little in the way of useful materials, and the locals don't seem particularly welcoming. It's no wonder Hunter insisted on accompanying you.

But then, something does catch your eye. "Hey, that looks like one of my old flags," you remark, pointing to a colorful flag tucked away at the back of a small pop-up stall.

Hunter stops beside you, his interest piqued. "You used to spin those, didn't you?"

You chuckle at his phrasing, yet surprised that he remembers since it was just something you mentioned in passing once. "Yeah, I did. Not sure if I still have the touch, though."

A smirk spreads across Hunter's face as he holds up a finger, indicating for you to wait a moment. A bit embarrassed, you watch as he approaches the seller and strikes up a conversation. After a brief exchange, Hunter returns, flag in hand. "Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?" he suggests with a grin.

"Hunter! Did you just pay for that?" you exclaim incredulously as he shoves the pole into your hand.

"No," he says with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But they said if you can impress them, you can keep it."

You narrow your eyes at him, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing in your gaze. "Fine. But I'm warning you," you declare, stepping into a clearing and scanning the area to ensure there's enough space before attempting to recreate a routine you haven't performed in years. "I'm not as good as I used to be."

Taking a deep breath, you grip the pole firmly and let muscle memory take over as you start spinning the flag with practiced precision. The fabric unfurls in vibrant arcs, catching the sunlight and casting colorful patterns across the ground. With each twirl and flourish, you feel a surge of nostalgia as memories of your days in the colour guard come flooding back.

As you continue your impromptu performance, you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm of the routine, the flag becoming an extension of your body as you spin and swirl with grace.

Hunter is watching you silently and appears to be actually enamoured by your performance. His eyes are wide in surprise.

When you finally come to a graceful finish, you turn to Hunter with a triumphant smile, the flag held aloft in your hand. "How's that for impressing them?" you ask, a hint of pride in your voice.

“That was… wow.” Is all he says, a proud smile on his face. He takes one look to the seller who just gives a brief nod. “And the flag is yours it seems.”

Hunter comes up beside you once more but you feel a tug on your top, turning to face a young child who was holding out credits to you. Bashfully, you accept and the credits swiftly came flooding in.

“Heh, seems like you still got it.” He nudges your side playfully.

This could be a pretty safe way to earn some extra credits it seems.

Wrecker

"Wrecker, come look at this!" you call out excitedly, beckoning your companion over.

With Wrecker's assistance in tidying up the Marauder and transferring some items to the Remora, you stumble upon an unexpected treasure: an old snare drum tucked away amidst the clutter.

"Woah, what's tha’?" Wrecker asks, intrigued, as he joins you on the floor, his eyes fixed on the instrument in your hands.

"I used to play it in a marching band. Forgot I even had it," you reply with a wistful smile, the memories of your band days flooding back, tinged with nostalgia and a touch of sadness for times gone by.

Wrecker notices the flicker of emotion on your face and decides to lift your spirits. "Well, go on then. Give us a beat," he encourages, nudging the drum closer to you and offering a drumstick.

You smile gratefully, feeling a rush of anticipation as you accept the drumstick from his outstretched hand and pick up the matching one from the ground. "Just so you know," you say with a playful glint in your eye, "it sounds much better in a chorus rather than individually."

With a deep breath, you position the drumsticks in your hands, feeling the familiar weight and texture of the material. Closing your eyes, you let muscle memory guide your movements as you begin to play. The rhythmic tapping of the drum reverberates through the air.

As you lose yourself in the music, your fingers move effortlessly across the drum's surface, producing a lively beat that echoes off the walls of the ship. With each stroke, super fast and then skilfully slow, you feel a sense of liberation.

Wrecker watches in awe, a grin spreading cross his face as he listens to the infectious rhythm you create. For a moment, all worries and cares fade away, replaced by the joy of listening to you play. Flourishing a finish, your cheeks warm to Wrecker applauding enthusiastically.

"Tha’ was amazing!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You've still got it."

You grin, feeling a surge of pride at his words. "Thanks, Wrecker," you reply, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Maybe we should start our own band."

“Definitely!”

Tech

"Is this yours?" Omega's voice interrupts your thoughts, drawing your attention to the slim case she's holding. As you approach, a wave of nostalgia washes over you at the sight of the familiar case.

"I haven't seen this for a long time," you smile warmly, taking the case into your hands. Kneeling down, you blow the dust off and flip open the lid, revealing your old clarinet nestled inside.

Omega's eyes widen with curiosity as she peers at the instrument. "Wow, that's cool! Did you play it?"

You nod, a fond smile on your face. "Yeah, I used to. In a colour guard and in parades."

"Can you play something now?" she asks eagerly.

Before you can respond, Omega suddenly calls out, "TECH! COME HERE!"

Tech, engrossed in his data pad, looks up in surprise and heads your way. "What is the nature of my presence this time, Omega?"

Omega launches into an exaggerated explanation of your discovery and her request. "Listen to them play."

Tech adjusts his goggles and looks down at you with curious eyes. "I was not aware you could play any instrument."

"I haven't in a long time," you admit sheepishly, wiping the mouthpiece and adjusting the bridge keys. "But I can give it a try."

With a deep breath, you bring the clarinet to your lips and begin to play a soft, melancholic tune. The notes fill the air, weaving a gentle melody that seems to resonate with the quiet stillness of the surroundings. It was a gentle tune, a stark difference to the ones you played in parades.

As you play, you notice Tech glancing up from his data pad, his expression softening as he listens intently to the music. It's a rare sight to see him so engrossed in something other than his work, and you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that your music has captured his attention.

By the time you finish the piece, Tech is still watching you, a thoughtful look on his face.

Omega bursts into a loud applause meanwhile Tech smiled at you. “I would not mind you playing that whilst I do some repairs... it’s rather relaxing.”

Crosshair

“What are you doing?” Crosshair's voice breaks your concentration mid-performance, and you freeze as your arms flail, causing the wooden rifle to slip from your grasp and clatter onto the grass.

You spin to face the clone, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I found my old rifle from when I used to perform," you explain quickly, bending down to retrieve the prop. With a flick of your foot, you send it spinning into the air, catching it effortlessly as it falls back down. "Want to see?"

Crosshair eyes the rifle with a hint of intrigue, his skepticism giving way to mild interest. "Perform? Rifles are for shooting. Not messing around with.”

“It’s wood, idiot.” You knock on the equipment before you then shrug, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. "Anyway, it’s called rifle spinning. I used to do it as part of a routine in a performance group. It's more about coordination and showmanship than anything else. Wanna see?” You ask again.

Crosshair nods slowly, his gaze lingering on the rifle as you twirl it expertly in your hands. He stands back as you shows off your moves and he couldn’t hide the small impressed smirk forming on his lips. "You’re quite impressive I’ll give you that. But don't let it distract you from our mission." The compliment was rare but not one you were going to refuse as you give him a smile of thanks. But, he was right. There were more pressing matters at large.

You chuckle, nodding in agreement as you secure the rifle back in its holster. "Of course not. Just a little trip down memory lane."

Masterlist

Tags:

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[vox-ex]

vigilante + breakfast

Supercorptober 2023

"You can put your strength down. I’m sitting here with you at your kitchen table. You don’t need to say anything." - Eden Robinson

or ... Lena saves Supergirl from Lillian but winds up having breakfast with Kara

----

Lena doesn't know how she got here.

Standing in the kitchen of a cabin up the coast while a superhero showered in the other room.

Well, she does.

But it's a story too long to tell on 3 hours of sleep. She thinks about just leaving, about placing a note on the counter and going after Lillian on her own for almost killing Supergirl. But playing vigilante was literally the one thing she said she told Agent Danvers she wouldn't do.

So that's how she wound up here.

Standing in the kitchen of a cabin up the coast, water running in the other room while she tried to make sense of the last 24 hours and the room in front of her all at once.

She finds it all narrows down to one thing, or rather three, all stacked together.

She notices the bright blues and deep reds first, the way they stand out against the dark wood. She runs her fingers over the heavy material of the suit and through the thick creases of the cape, trailing over the edges of the sigil that peeks out. It's softer than she thought it would be. Careful stitching and little flecks of gold woven throughout. She marvels at the hidden complexities of something that had always seemed so much simpler.

But things up close never quite appear like they do at a distance.

They look out of place, folded there on the kitchen table.

The care to place them so perfectly, a contrast to the rest of the room.

A blanket still covering half the couch. Two pillows wedged together against the arm. A pot of coffee on the counter, still warm but half gone. A missing mug from the cabinet. A plate covered in bits of jam and burnt toast crumbs in the sink.

But there was an odd comfort in it, of things having been taken out and put back a little askew — careful in its own way, but cautious too. It felt familiar in a way she couldn't place.

She came back to the suit, noticing one more thing tucked inside the folds — a pair of dark-rimmed glasses.

She carefully picked them up, unable to leave them in their place like the rest of the things she had found.

Familiar in that same way she couldn't place.

They were heavier than they should be.

She turned them over in her hand, tracing the outline of the frames, running her finger over the faint outline of scratches too deep to polish away.

Imagined them set in front of bright blue eyes.

They became even more familiar then.

Marveled at the simple illusion of them.

Was so caught up in it that she missed the sound of the water stopping.

Missed the sound of someone else coming into the kitchen.

"They have lead in them."

She almost dropped the glasses.

She imagines they wouldn't have broken if she had.

Finds herself careful with them all the same.

Kara came up next to her, hair still damp as she finished putting it up into a loose bun. She had cuts scattered on one side of her face still. Mostly healed. Mostly just angry lines and shallow marks. But Lena remembered them deeper, remembered her bleeding. Her ears rang in sympathy at the memory of how they got there. Remembering the the cape in front of her wrapped around her body instead, protecting her. It hadn't felt as heavy then.

Looking at her felt like walking into the room all over again. Some parts of her familiar, others out of place.

"I'm sorry, I - I was just..."

"Please don't be." Kara gently took the glasses from Lena's hands with a soft smile and slipped them on. "I left them there for you." Her fingers lining up with the imperfections on the lenses. The cuts along her cheek coming into sharper focus, too.

"I thought, I thought it might be easier to see when I told you about me...all of me."

She reached out and adjusted them just a little, letting her fingers linger there for a moment. She felt Kara relax against her.

"There you go," Lena said

The oversized sweater and messy bun made her seem even softer. More like the Kara she had come to know.

"Here I am."

But Lena could see it now - the strength coiled beneath her gentle nature, the way she stood taller under Lena's touch. Could see all of her.

Her fingers drifted from Kara's glasses to her chin, her thumb stretching up to touch the split in her lip that seemed to be taking the longest to heal.

Suddenly, even more of yesterday made sense.

Her mother hadn't just been trying to hurt Kara.

She had been trying to hurt her, too.

Her shoulders fell as the weight on them grew.

"I should have gotten there sooner...If I had just realized what she was doing, accepted it."

"Hey," Kara set her jaw, beneath Lena's touch. "You got us both out of there."

"What if she comes after you again?" Lena asked quietly.

"She will, and we'll stop her," Kara promised, "together." Her voice softened..."tet me protect you too."

Lena nodded, taking a deep breath. Years from now, she would become used to this kind of hope, but for, now it was still new.

"I have to be honest, though; I would really like some breakfast first. Because I tried making toast, but it was --"

"-a little burnt on one side," Lena finished.

Kara ducked her head, and Lena laughed, the sound coming easily even now, as it always seemed to do with Kara.

"Any requests? I am told I make good pancakes."

Kara squeezed her hand...careful...familiar.

"Perfect, pancakes sound perfect."

----

read and follow along on Ao3 too

[lovesodakid]

sworn to secrecy 5

chris x fem!reader

1 2 3 4 6

summary: chris and y/n have known each other, pretty much their whole lives. y/n has always had a crush on chris. chris always viewed y/n as ‘nate’s little sister’ until one day, he realized, she wasn’t so little anymore…which nate sees..in which. he does not approve of whatsoever. (“brothers best friend trope”)

warnings: underage drinking. that should be it

____________________________________________

as we walk into the party, it’s everything i expected. drunk teenagers grinding on each other to some shitty rap songs.

“first party kid! how you feeling?” chris asks me as he shakes me in a playful manner.

“like i need a drink.” i say enthusiastically as i make my way to the kitchen.

“hey, stay with her yeah? nick and i are gonna go find some friends.” matt tells to chris as they matt and nick quickly slip away.

“why do i-“ chris tries to protest before hiving up and following me to the kitchen.

once i get into the kitchen, the counter is piled with all kinds of alcohol options.

“hey, this is your first time drinking,” chris begins as he makes his way to stand behind me. “you should probably take it easy, okay?”

i nod, acknowledging what he said. do i plan on listening?

no.

once my eyes land on a bottle of pink whitney, i immediately grab it. this is my dads ‘favorite drink’. in which, he would make sure there was a bottle of this stuff before there was food in the fridge when i was younger.

i grab a red solo cup from the stack right beside all the alcohol choices, as i fill the cup up with the alcohol.

chris takes notice of this as i shoot the drink down my throat, causing my face to scrunch immediately.

“y/n, im serious. ill take it away if you get too drunk.” he sternly speaks. “i mean, why are you wanting to drink all of a sudden? this is completely unlike you.”

i quickly spin around to face him. unbeknownst to me, is how insanely close we are.

“im-just,” i try to spit out. “i just wanna try something new.”

chris’s eyes furrow as he looks down at me. “what’s been with you the last couple days?”he softly asks me.

“i-,” i begin to speak. which is insanely hard to do, given the fact how he’s looking down at me which is turning my stomach like crazy.

“just don’t worry about it okay.” i finally get out.

i slightly push his chest to make way for me to walk away from him. to be honest, i don’t know why i’ve been acting like this either. my minds been going 90 miles an hour the last couple days. ever since that damn dream memory came back. the more i think of that, the more i want to not be able to. so i quickly down the full cup of pink whitney before throwing the plastic cup somewhere on the floor.

-

about 2 hours, and 3 full cups of pink whitney in my system later, im wasted.

im dancing with the crowd of people, laughing and singing with people i’ve never spoke two words to before tonight. liquid courage i guess?

“hey.”

i feel a hand on my shoulder which stills my movements as i turn around to come face to face with a blonde dude with brown eyes. beautiful brown eyes. almost like pools of honey-

“hey, what’s your name?” the blonde stranger asks.

“y/n.” i slur my words.

“nice, im christian.” he says, extending a hand out for me to shake.

i hesitate to shake it, before i do eventually. christian? where have i heard that name before?

“this is my party actually.” he proudly voices, looking around like he sculpted the party piece by piece.

oh. right. christian davis. this is his party. he is who im talking to right now.

“o-oh. well this is a nice house you have christian.” i drunkenly spit out.

“why thank you y/n.” he thanks me with a huge grin. “wanna dance?”

i barely have time to register what he’s even saying before i feel two hands on my waist, spinning me around so my back is pressed against his chest.

it’s like my body is reacting before my brain can even process what im doing, before im already closing my eyes and leaning my head onto his shoulder. allowing my hips to start swaying with his, almost in a rhythm.

when i start feeling light, opened mouth kisses on my neck. that’s almost exactly the same time i feel someone staring at me. which naturally causes me to open my eyes and look around the room to find the cause.

im looking around the room for a good minute until my eyes are met with the familiar icy blue pair. except this time, they’re more of a darker blue than usual. and this time, filled with pure anger as he begins to storm towards me.

almost in a second, im being ripped away from christian by chris.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing y/n?” he shouts at me.

“like you care.” i spit back, but grabbing onto his shoulder to stabilize myself.

“how much did you drink?” he asks, noticing my clearly intoxicated state.

i don’t say anything as i roll my eyes.

“dude. what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” christian speaks up.

chris’s attention turns from me to christian.

“what the fuck do you mean?” chris asks, clear anger present in his voice.

“i was obviously dancing with her. you can have your turn after.” christian voices as he crosses his arms.

this seems to spark something in chris. because in a heartbeat, christian is on the ground with a bloody nose with a pissed off chris standing above him.

“dude what the hell!” christian yells as he grabs his nose in pain.

“chris what’s going- oh my god dude.” matt asks, running over to stand beside us as he sees what obviously had went on. nate and nick standing behind him.

i stand slightly behind chris, a little dumbfounded at what just happened.

“y/n what the hell happened?” nate questions as he walks to stand by me.

“i-i don’t know.” i stumble over my words.

“are you drunk?” he asks me, closely examining my face and body movements.

i don’t say anything, instead just staring right at him.

“oh my god you are.” he says, letting go of me. “we’re leaving.”

“what-no!” i protest, crossing my arms.

“fine. then you can go home with the triplets. i wouldn’t take you home drunk anyways. dad would kill me.” nate turns to matt, “make sure you guys get her home.” and with that he’s storming out of the party.

“okay, come on y/n/n.” matt speaks softly as he gently grasps onto my arm to pull me out of the party. nick and chris following closely behind us.

as we leave, people part ways for us to make our way through. continuous whispers about chris punching christian fill the room as we exit the house.

____________________________________________

a/n: ngl kinda hate this chapter, but it’s okay🙏

[loveandleases]

(Our second fluff ABC's. This time for our hothead. You can find the first fluff ABC's here. Below the cut~)

A = Admiration - Cam admires honesty.

B = Body - Any part of MC, doesn't matter. Just know Cam is very much paying attention to all of their body.

C = Cuddling - There were many nights when MC and Cam were having a sleepover that Cam ended up half laying on MC. Cam loves to cuddle, and why not do that with your favorite person?

D = Dates - For Cam he would prefer something more laid back. While he would take MC out on the town if that is what they wanted, just having that one on one time is a plus in their book.

E = Emotions - They are known as our resident hot head for a reason. Cam can take a lot, he will bury it. (Looking at all those emotions he has pushed down for MC). If Cam feels someone is being rude or out of pocket just know he will do something about it. Even if it has nothing to do with him.

F = Family - For him, those people he considers famliy are the most important to him. Whether that is MC, or MC's aunt, even doggo. They matter to Cam. Now how that applies to his own siblings, you will just have to wait and see.

G = Gifts - He loves to give gifts, believes them to be little reminders of his appreciation. If you see the inside of Cam's room, you will see trinkets from many different points in his life. Things from his childhood, such as the first pebble MC gave him. To a stack of polaroids of Kara's first steps, to when he got the doggo for MC.

H = Holding Hands - He holds hands with such fervency. Afraid that if he lets go the person whose hand he was holding will cease to exist.

I = Injury - While Cam can handle pain thanks to growing up sick, he can't handle it when it has to do with people he cares about. When he saw MC's nose bleed (thanks Cam) he nearly fainted form the sight of blood. Just the idea of hurting someone gives him the ick. (unless that person is Chris.)

J = Jokes - Definitely a jokester, sometimes you just have to laugh to keep from crying. Sadly that is one of Cam's ideals. He will be sulking out of your view.

K = Kisses - Cam kisses with urgency, as if each one will be the last. Each one more dear than the one before.

L = Love - Cam has had love for people, platonically, and romantically. Though no love burns brighter or hurts as much as the one he has for his best friend. It's a love to never be given lightly or that expects anything in return.

M = Memory - He has many memories he holds dear, from the first word Kara spoke, to his first kiss. One of his favorite memories is prom, and when he headbutted Chris. (Okay that one yeah that one is top 5.)

N = Nightmare (what is one of their fears?) - One of his biggest fears is to be discarded. To be replaced and treated as if he never mattered at all. He can do without that.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?) - MC will see Cam just grab at his hair and faceplant on the table, the couch even his bed. MC has yet to find out why but they always hear Cam mumbling things under his breath.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)- Red.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?) - Cam prefers to just hang out, relax. Talk about your shared past and what coul be your future. Watch really cringey shows. Share a pint of ice cream together. Help in any way he can. Also…laundry.

R = Rhythm (what song do they hum to themselves, when they think no one is listening.)- He will hum anything even if he doesn't know the lyrics, his current go to is Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Ray.

S = Secrets (how open are they?) - With others he's not open at all, with MC like an open book. (well except for one secret he keeps close). He will never intentionally tell MC's secrets, those are sacred to him.

T = Time (how do they spend their time?) - Pining. Doodling in a journal he keeps hidden in a drawer. Taking horrible candid photos of people. Cam also likes to read, there will always be a book dog eared in his camera bag.

U = Upset (how do they act when they're upset?) - Depends on how upset he is. While somethings he will bottle, other things will make him out swear a sailor. Cam gives it his all in a lot of things, especially when it comes to cussing someone out. Did they bump into MC, alright hes going to tell them their mother should have swallowed. Our boy is fiesty sometimes to a fault. But it's because he truly cares.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?) - Their accomplishments. While his parents don't recognize how good he is as a photographer, Cam is truly good at it. At capturing a moment or an idea just with photos. It's something he prouds himself on. If he sucks at everything else, at least he knows this is the one thing he can do.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?) - He has a scar on the back of his thigh from doing just that. Cam will fight for you, beside you. To him it doesn't matter. You just tell him where to throw that punch.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?) - Very well. There will be times when Cam can read MC better than he can himself. He won't always know when something is wrong or whats wrong, especially if your relationship changes. He will try his best to figure out whats wrong.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?) - I can't give all the details away, but it would depend. It's not that he wouldn't plan it, it's just likely that he would be so overcome with emotion that he just blurts it out.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?) - Someone touching their hand or a hug. He never really got them from his family so to him it's not only shocking when someone does it but its so comforting to him that he wishes it would never end.

[dunmeshi-darlings]

Hi! Are you new? Love your works btw.

If it's okay. May I please request Marcille ?

Scenario: Her human s/o passes away from old age, leaving her and their grown up kids sad and depressed.

Then, centuries pass, we're now in the modern age. Marcille finds herself working for her reincarnated s/o, who's now a CEO, as their secretary. Unfortunately, s/o doesn't remember their past life.

Hello!! yes i am indeed new, only made my blog just recently, and aWwww thank youu! OOooh first angst ask, and of course its for marcille lol.

As much as she hated it, she always knew this was eventually going to happen, this is perhaps the long lived races greatest curse. That unless you love another long lived race, you will be forced to watch the people you love grow old and die meanwhile you still have centuries ahead of you...This understanding didnt comfort her at all when your time finally came and you passed away. It was all so much of a blur for her...She remembers crying for days on end, heart wrenching sobs would tear through her for hours and hours on end. it felt like she was drowning in this pain, that it was choking her and that it was all consuming. She is lucky to have your and her kids (now grown up) there for her or she may have gone mad with this pain.

Of course while the wounds of loss never truly disappear, they do turn to scars and those scars fade over time. And time (as it is want to do) continued ever onward, the world moved onward and eventually so did marcille. She would always love you no matter what and the memories of you, despite being centuries ago still ache in her chest. However she did eventually relearn to live her life normally, especially with the support of all of your kids. As the world grew and evolved into an age of magical and scientific wonder, she to evolved and grew.

Eventually thanks to Marcilles Centuries of magical studies and experience land her a job that is fitting of somebody of her grand knowledge....as a secretary (even in this world, Years of knowledge and training doesnt mean much to the world of capitalism but i digress). She ends up getting an incredibly well paying career as a secretary for a particularly famous Magical tech company, moving up the ranks and finally getting the promotion to secretary for THE CEO of the company.

On marcilles first day she wanted to make a good impression for the Ceo, she wore her fanciest office dress, made sure she looked as best she did, and had spent the night prior Organizing the CEOs entire schedule ahead of time, that way she would show up to work with an entire days work already done. She wanted to impress them after all.

She did note something odd, Each time she read the CEOs name she couldnt help but feel a soft blush across her face and a warmth in her chest. She wasnt sure what it was and eventually chalked it up to perhaps anxiety getting to her, but something about this feeling felt so familiar to her and she couldnt put her finger on it.

As she walked into the office that day with a stack of paperwork she heard a voice that struck her like lightning. She felt all the blood drain from her face as she dropped all of the papers she had. That voice...oh god that voice...she had almost forgotten what that heavenly voice sounded like...but this was impossible...there was no way. "Woah hey, are you ok? your marcille, the new secretary right? My names Y/N"

The moment Marcille raised her eyes to look at the owner of the all too familiar voice, an all to familiar face greeting her again after centuries. Marcille could feel the tears streaming down her face...there you were....after so many centuries...there you were again...the love of her life... there you were, the same face she vividly remembered centuries ago. The same face she woke up to countless times smiling lovingly at her, the same face she remembered promising to spend there days with, the same face she remembered in there most intimate moments, the same face she remembered crying over as they lowered it into the earth all those centuries ago. She cant help but reach her hands out, wanting to cradle the lover she lost so long ago

However the person takes her hand and helps her stand up, telling her that its ok and there is no need to be so nervous. That you had heard nothing but good things about marcille and that not to let you being the CEO fool her, you are actually quiet down to earth. However marcille shook her head as the tears continued. " Y/N....dont you remember me?....its me...marcille......dont you remember our children...?"

marcille takes your hands in hers and looks up at you, her eyes pleading as you look down at her. Marcille was hoping for something...a spark of revelation, a shout of happiness, a deep embrace...something special.. But her heart shattered when you only looked down at her sadly and shook your head. In this magical world the concept of reincarnation was a well known thing, so you knew that based on this reaction you must have been the reincarnation of Marcilles loved one. "i...im sorry marcille...but no, i dont remember anything..im sorry, i know this must be hard and i wish i could tell you that i remembered everything...but i dont."

Marcille breaks down in sobs, wailing in sorrow..it was like she lost you all over again, but this was so much worse. Before when you died she lost you and it hurt, but she knew that there wasnt anything that could be done. It wasnt like the dungeon, she couldnt have brought you back to life (plus the two of you had agreed for that she wouldnt revive you, that you were old now and when it was your time you wanted to rest.) This was worse though, you were gone but so very close..you were literally standing in front of her, but you may as well have been dead to her. You were now like a specter, a ghost of a happy life long since passed that would haunt her, reminding her of the suffering she felt so long ago, she thought she had finally managed to let you go, Only for this ghost of loves past to remind her every day of the love she lost so long ago.

Though this was the first time you had ever met marcille (atleast in this life) you felt so awful for her, you couldnt imagine what this must have been life. You sink down to your knees and hold her close as she sobbed, you weren't sure if this was making the situation better or worse all things considered...but you knew she needed somebody to be there for her in this moment. you hold her close and let her weep centuries of sorrow in your arms, holding her close as she weakly clings to you, hundreds and hundreds of years of pain finally spilling out as you hold her. This moment feels familiar, holding marcille in your arms feels so familiar to you... if you had any doubts about being the reincarnation of her old lover, this moment thoroughly wiped away all those doubts

Eventually the elf woman's sobbing slows down to a soft weak whimper, you use the spare tissue you have and wipe her face off as you look down at her with a soft smile. "like i said...i dont remember anything about our past together, i am so sorry about that...but, i wouldn't mind getting to know you better, maybe it will spark some old memories...or we can make new ones of our own." you say down to her, causing the elf woman to sniffle and finally smile again, a smile that you couldnt help feel like you had been missing for so long without realizing it. "yeah...that sounds nice"

[jackactuallywrites]

Drunk and Disorderly Chapter Four

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader

Warnings: mild cringe. MC is a cutie patootie and anxiety-monologues

Summary: You have to go and file the paperwork from last weeks incident, and wouldn’t you know it, you’re filing it with Ghost

Notes: Blame/Thank @xxven she doesn’t let me sleep 🦫💕

Word Count: 1,285

ao3 link

If there was anything you hated more than paperwork, it was paperwork when it had to be delivered and then also discussed all in one meeting. Considering the army was stereotyped as shoot-first idiots with rifles, there was an annoying amount of paperwork involved. Every bullet shot had to be made a note of, every single plaster and bandage; the bureaucracy was endless. That was bad enough, yet this set of paperwork had a delightfully painful twist in that it was a paper record of you breaking your nose in a training exercise. You would have liked to have buried that memory rather than immortalise it in official military documents, but it had been insisted upon, a paper trail for any future incidents.

You’d done your best to look absolutely pristine, not a crease out of place on your uniform, your boots polished until they shone, your collar starched until it could support a grown woman’s weight. At the very least, your meeting was with Ghost, as he had been the superior officer during the incident. Elle had suggested a great many things for you to do under and over his desk until you threatened to report her for inappropriate fraternisation, and you tried to shove the filth she’d implanted in your mind's eye aside as you approached Ghost’s office.

Standing outside, leaning against the wall, was his shadow and your momentarily romantic nemesis, Soap. He gave you an upward nod as a form of greeting as you neared, his eyes flicking down to the stack of paperwork in your hand. “That your incident report?” You flicked through the pages with your thumb, rocking back and forth on your heels, “Six pages for a broken nose. Bit excessive if you ask me. Ghost in his office?” Soap nodded, “Aye, but he’s in a foul mood.” “Not one for paperwork?” He looked you over suspiciously, though you couldn’t begin to imagine his reasons, “Something like that.” The door to Ghost’s office opened, and a chastised-looking soldier scurried out, avoiding both your gazes. Soap called out to Ghost, “Got another one, LT.” You could hear the beastly snarl in Ghost’s voice as he responded, “For fucks sake. Send ‘em in.”

You popped your head around the door to find Ghost sitting behind his desk, rubbing his temples through his mask. The mountain of paperwork beside him made yours look very much like a molehill, and you paused in the doorway awkwardly, “Hello.” You drew out the o’s for a reason you couldn’t quite explain, wanting to ease some of the tension before you added your paperwork to the pile. Ghost’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his eyes narrowing as he took you in, “Oh. It’s you.” You gave him a nervous smile, shifting your weight from foot to foot, “The one and only.” He sighed, gesturing for you to close the door behind you as he organised the paperwork in front of him and added it to the mountain.

Flashes of Elle’s words flickered in your mind as you pushed the door to a close, and you cursed her internally before you walked over to Ghost’s desk, hoping that he wouldn’t suddenly become a mind reader. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have that power, casually gesturing for you to take a seat opposite him, and you did, sinking down into the thinly cushioned chair. You promptly set the paperwork down on the desk, pushing it over to him, “I filled it out this morning.” Ghost reached over to take it from you, leafing through it and reading in silence you didn’t dare break.

When he’d finished reading, a little of the tension seemed to go out of Ghost’s shoulders, and he relaxed in his chair, interlocking his gloved fingers as he looked at you. “And that’s entirely accurate?” You nodded and then hesitated, “Yeah- I mean, I didn’t see whatever happened after I hit the floor, so I couldn’t write about that, so I guess it’s not entirely accurate because I couldn’t be omniscient-“ “Relax.” The idea of messing up the paperwork and having to redo it all was aggressively present in your mind, but you forced yourself to sit back in your chair, trying hard not to continue your monologuing. Ghost waved vaguely with his hand, “The paperwork doesn’t matter. What matters is you. Your health.” He gestured at your nose, “Any difficulty breathing? Any nosebleeds?” You thought on it, “I mean, other than the initial one, no.” He nodded and then leant forward, reaching out before he paused, “May I?” “Sure.”

Yet again, Ghost’s gloved fingers were on your face, his eyes scanning your nose for any sign of further damage as he held your jaw, his thumb resting on your cheek. “Any pain?” He questioned, and you gave a slight shake of your head, “Nope. It does click sometimes, though.” You could see his brows furrow underneath the edge of his mask, and you smiled, “Seriously, if I push it at all, blowing my nose or anything, it clicks. Annoying as shit. Medic says it’s normal, but it bugs me.” Ghost’s mask shifted as he let out a soft snort, perhaps smiling underneath the thick fabric. You grinned at him, and he withdrew his hand, looking back down at the paperwork, “You included that in here?” “Of course, sir. Spared no detail.” “I can tell.” “You’re not telling me you don’t like paperwork now after I put all that effort in?”

Yet again, Ghost leaned back in his chair, and this time, you could see the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, signalling he was certainly smiling underneath that balaclava. “I’ll treasure it.” “You better. Took me ages.” He grabbed one of the pens on his desk, flipping through to where it required his signature at the end, scrawling it on the dotted line. When it was done, he tossed the pen aside, sitting back in his chair, “Fuckin’ paperwork.” “You’re welcome for my contribution to Paperwork Mountain. Rich toffs will be trying to climb it any second now.” He shook his head, making a shooing motion with one hand, “Go on, get out of here.” Another glance at the mountain of paperwork shot a pang of sympathy through your heart as you paused in leaving, “You fancy coming out to the club this weekend? After all the paperwork, that is.”

Usually, a casual invite like that was responded to immediately, yet Ghost seemed to be taking his time with it, an imperceptible emotion clouding his eyes as he looked at you. “This weekend?” His words echoed your own as though he was puzzled by the question. “Well, yeah. The girls and I make a habit of going out every Friday, but Elle’s got plans with her new girlfriend and Kate’s gone up north to see her lot, so if you’re not busy or going out with anyone else-“ “I’ll be there.” He seemed to have a knack for cutting you off before you could truly fall into a monologue, and you bit back your words, giving him a nod, “Alright then! I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” He nodded again, “Look forward to it. Close the door behind you.”

With that, you were dismissed, and you left your paperwork with him, pulling the door shut behind you as instructed. Soap was still loitering in the hallway, and he looked at you curiously. “LT’s taken a shine to you.” You chose not to question the meaning of his words, giving him an awkward smile and a deferential ‘sir’ as you made a swift exit, needing nothing more than to talk to Elle and Kate as soon as possible.