#I’m digging in now. especially after that conversation + he and his sister picked out my gift at least a week prior

[void-tiger]

“Hey I wanted to say __ but I didn’t want to stress you out (again.)”

“Hey no stress! All good!”

“…well GOOD because I have been stressing myself about that for (months) awhile. But if it’s all good it’s all good. (I can tell my anxiety to shadduuuup about it if I know that directly.)”

[continues to resist the urge to send bird and cat memes and music covers]

(Wait until y’all actually feel comfortable talking without that Wall of social anxiety specifically around eachother, Tiger. Don’t abuse the dms. Patience. You at least know he won’t run away from you again. He showed up to your party and wore the bandana you threw at him playfully, and apparently did pay attention to what patterns you wear on your nicer clothes despite him getting more avoidant than ever when you do. Tell the dopamine to CHILL and BREATHE. Ya know. Like ya promised.)

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 24}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the late post! My baby shower was today, so Tara and I have been extremely busy! Look for Chapter 25 on her blog on Monday!

Warning: 18+ content.

Cassian got to the restaurant and took a look around. There were people everywhere, bustling about, getting ready for the night’s grand opening.

It had become the talk of the town - and the local groups on the internet - so they were expecting a good turnout.

At least, that’s what Cassian’s guess was.

He hadn’t talked to Nesta since he stormed out two days before, with the exception of one text exchange.

Cassian had texted, Tell Nyx I love him and I will see him tomorrow.

Nesta had replied, Ok.

Now, he was searching for that tiny little man with a mop of dark, black hair.

When he finally found Nyx, he was in his stroller eating cheeto puffs off the tray. When he saw Cassian his eyes lit up and he was instantly reaching for him.

Cassian laughed as he unbuckled him from his stroller and picked him up, giving him the biggest hugs. “Hey, buddy. I missed you, too.”

“This is his third helping of cheetos,” Helion said, from where he leaned against the wall. “Sorry about the next diaper.”

Cassian chuckled. “All this going on and Nesta stuck you on baby duty?”

Even saying her name out loud hurt, but he didn’t let it show.

He gestured toward the kitchen and said, “She’s been here since six and she’s in one of her moods. I decided I’d rather be on baby duty than caught in the crossfire.”

He winced, figuring that didn’t bode well for the two of them today. “I’ll stay in the bar, then.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Helion replied, looking him up and down, before pushing the stroller behind the counter. Cassian had the distinct feeling he was looking for a crack in his armor. He didn’t bother telling him that he’d been broken for two days, and the only person who could fix him was currently yelling at some poor employee in the kitchen.

Cass crossed the threshold into the bar area and let out a low whistle. He’d had a hand in the design, but most of this was all Nesta. It accented the restaurant perfectly and he immediately loved the place.

“Nice, right?”

He turned to find Kallias carrying a tray of fresh glasses from the dish area and the smile on his friend’s face was infectious.

Cassian nodded as Kallias said hello to Nyx. “Yeah, it looks amazing.”

Kallias nodded. “You and Nesta did good.”

“Thanks,” Cassian muttered, not wanting the conversation to go any further. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got here,” Kallias said, as Nyx started playing with the strings on Cassian’s hoodie. “Viv will be here soon to help out. She said she can watch Nyx while we work.”

Cassian nodded. “That would be great.”

It would be helpful, of course, to have Viviane help out watching Nyx. Cassian had a ton to get done in the next six hours before the opening began. He didn’t want to let Nyx go, though. Two days. It was the longest he had been away from Nyx since...everything happened.

“Well, little man, until then, you get to help me unpack liquor bottles,” Cassian said, trying his best to sound excited.

Nyx giggled. “Ba ba ba ba ba ba.”

“Yeah, different kind of bottles,” Cassian chuckled, and carried Nyx with him into the back room.

Kallias had been at the bar for the past two days, getting most of the stock ready to go. A few texts to explain the situation was all he’d needed and Cassian was thankful he had such a loyal friend and coworker.

Elain hadn’t been as understanding the first night he’d been there, but after talking to Nesta, even she backed off. He had no clue what Nesta had said to her, but her frustration turned to sympathy and she was back to treating Cassian like the brother-in-law she loved and not like a man who’d hurt her sister.

After pulling the carrier out of Nyx’s stroller, he strapped the baby to his chest and set to work, carrying case after case of liquor up to the bar. Kallias was busy stocking the assorted glasses they’d need, so the two worked in silence for the most part.

He had just walked back into the store room, short one case of whiskey, when he heard Nesta talking from the dry pantry separating the store room and kitchen. Cassian’s heart lurched and he was about to make his way back into the bar, but Nyx squealed as he heard her voice.

The swinging door flew open as Nesta hurried into the store room, wondering how Nyx had gotten in there in the first place. She froze when she found Cassian there. Their eyes locked and she blinked.

“Hey, Nes,” he said, quietly.

“I…didn’t know you were here,” she breathed.

He shrugged, turning back to the boxes of bottles. “Got here about an hour ago. Didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Nyx was reaching for her, so he unclipped the carrier and gave him to her. He giggled happily as soon as he was in Nesta’s arms, but she froze, unsure of what to say. “You should have let me know you were here.”

Another shrug. “You were busy, and I knew what I needed to do. Kal said Viv would be here later to watch him.”

She nodded, silence filling the space again.

Nyx pointed at Cassian, reaching for him. “Dada.”

Cassian stilled.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed his mouth.

A second passed.

Then, at last, he said, “What did he just say?”

“Dada,” Nyx repeated, and clapped his hands together. He reached for Cassian. “Dada!”

Cassian took Nyx, although he was moving slowly, stunned into silence. Nesta watched as a thousand different emotions crossed his face.

“Dada?” Cassian breathed, looking from Nyx to Nesta. “He just called me-.”

“He’s been saying it for the past two days,” Nesta said, staring at a spot on the wall behind Cassian.

For a moment, Cassian didn’t say anything, but then he asked, “You didn’t bother to tell me that?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed and she slowly met his gaze. “You left.”

“A simple text letting me know that Nyx said his first word wouldn’t’ve killed you,” Cassian snapped. “Especially since his first word was…” Cassian shook his head, that fury fading as quickly as it had come. He looked at Nyx and chuckled, softly. “Dada, hmm?”

“Dada,” Nyx said, taking Cassian’s face into his hands before patting his stubbled cheeks with his chubby little palms.

Cassian watched Nyx for a moment, chuckling softly, before asking Nesta, “Has he said anything else?”

Nesta shook her head, even though Cassian wasn’t looking at her. “Just that. Probably wondering where you were. He’s been saying it nonstop, after all.”

“I’m sorry, bud,” he said, softly. He kissed the top of his head. “I’m still right here though.”

He was about to buckle him back into the carrier when Nesta reached for him. “I can take him. You’ve got a lot to do.”

“No more than you,” he said, settling him back into the carrier. “And I’ve missed him. Viv will come see Kallias when she gets here. Let me keep him.”

Her hands fell to her sides. “Fine.”

The tiny room felt like it was closing in on him, looking at her. They were so close together, whether they wanted to be or not. Without another word, Cassian grabbed the closest box and shouldered his way back through the swinging door.

Kallias caught the look on his face as soon as he came back. “That must have been the first conversation you two have had.”

Cassian grunted in response, letting Nyx continue to pat at his face.

“And how’d it go?” He asked, leaning against the bar.

“About as well as you think.”

Kallias watched his old friend for a moment before nodding, deciding to let the conversation drop. Cassian was grateful for it.

He was thankful for Nyx, too, for an endless amount of reasons, but right now, he was a distraction. With Nyx here, he was only thinking about Nyx, not about Nesta.

Cassian spent the next couple of hours lining up liquor bottles, and when Viv got there, she happily took Nyx and let Cassian work.

Once Nyx began playing with Viviane, Cassian’s thoughts were once again on the last person he wanted to be thinking about.

He continued to work, trying his best to keep his mind on that. It was kind of hard, though, when the owner of the restaurant was Nesta. He guessed he was part owner now, too - owner of the bar, anyway.

The hours flew by and by the time Cassian decided to check his watch, he realized he only had thirty minutes until the doors were opening for the main event.

He needed to get out of his old hoodie and into something nicer.

After making his way into the stockroom, he pulled off his hoodie before digging into his backpack for the black henley he’d brought. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but it was sure better than his ripped hoodie.

The door swung open as he was pulling his shirt over his head, and when he turned around, he saw Nesta, once again.

She stilled just in front of the door. “Are you planning on being in here every time I come in?”

It was meant to be a joke, something to lighten the mood, Cassian knew, but the light didn’t exactly reach her eyes.

He looked down at his shirt. “Just had to change. Didn’t think a hoodie was appropriate for an opening celebration.”

Nesta nodded, giving him a forced smile. “Couldn’t have gone all out with a button down?”

“This is Azriel’s,” he said. “All of my nicer things are at…home.”

He said the last word hesitantly.

Nesta’s eyes fluttered shut. He knew she was dying to say something, but what it was he couldn’t tell. He thought he knew her well enough to read her face. It seemed he was wrong though.

“I’ll come by and get my things on my day off this week,” he said, saving her the request. He pulled the Henley over his head, leaving his backpack against the store room wall. “You won’t even know I was there.”

“Cassian…”

He pushed back through the door without waiting to hear what she was going to say.

This was agony. Every moment of being around her hurt, because every time he saw her, he knew that he’d wasted the past three months of his life. He’d wasted his time falling in love with her, because she still hadn’t said it back.

“Dada!”

Nyx and Viv sat at one of the new tables, Nyx munching on some crackers, and even Kallias’ eyes dragged to him. Nyx’s blue eyes were the only ones he cared about though.

“That’s new,” Kallias said, from where he leaned across the bar.

Nyx’s new favorite word was one of the few things that had made him smile all day. Even if it tore him apart at the same time.

He didn’t mind Nyx calling him that. He was still too young to understand what had happened to Rhys. So one day, he’d explain to him who he really was, and who Rhys was. But until then, he was content to be Dada.

Cassian lifted him out of the high chair he was in and smiled, wistfully. “Hey, buddy.”

On the other side of the room, Nesta pushed through the double doors and into the restaurant, making sure everything was in order as the clock ticked down.

Cassian couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

He wondered if she knew.

*

This was the biggest night that Nesta had in quite some time. A new bar would be amazing for business, and she was expecting a hell of a crowd.

And she wasn’t disappointed.

At exactly six, people began to pour in. They sat, and they ate, and by the Mother, they drank. She was amazed at how well Nyx was doing. She kept expecting to see him sleeping in a corner with Viviane, but he was being passed around to Viv, Kallias, Helion, and Cassian, having the time of his little life.

Nesta was glad someone was enjoying their night.

She should be enjoying her night, should be pumped at the booming business, but she could hardly focus.

All she could think about was him.

Cassian.

Every time she even got a glimpse of him, she wanted to run into his arms and tell him that she loved him. But she couldn’t do that. She had no clue what the repercussions of their relationship would do to Nyx, especially if something were to happen. If they were to break up, would this be their future? Barely speaking, passing the kid back and forth, both of them in misery?

Even when Elain and Azriel got there, both giving her hugs and warm smiles, the one on her face wasn’t real. She knew Elain could tell, knew she wanted to pull her aside, get the whole story, and quite possibly talk some sense into her, but she wouldn’t.

She couldn’t.

Not tonight.

As much as she tried to spend most of her time in the dining room, greeting guests and asking how they liked the drinks and new menu items, she kept ending up in the kitchen.

She got word that there had been a small grease fire on the line and she was about to rush into the kitchen when Helion stepped in front of her.

“Take a breath.”

“I can’t,” she replied, pulling her hair back off of her face. “There was a fire and-.”

“And it’s under control,” he said, gripping her by the shoulders. “It’s been put out, and I can go deal with Emrys and Luca and any potential fallout. Go have a drink, relax with your sister. You deserve a glass of wine and a moment to sit down.”

Nesta hesitated, but Helion wasn’t having it.

“Go,” he said. “Kallias is currently manning the bar. Go order a drink before the next wave of people come along.”

With a huff, Nesta nodded and exited the kitchen. True to Helion’s word, it was Kallias that was behind the bar. The second he saw Nesta coming, he was pouring a glass of wine.

She took a sip as soon as she reached the counter. “Vodka.”

Kallias blinked, then obliged her. He poured her a shot, Nesta downed it and thanked him, then took her glass of wine around the room to greet people. She eventually found Elain and Azriel, and was getting ready to take a seat by them, until she noticed Cassian already sitting with them, Nyx in his lap.

Bypassing their table, she gave them both an apologetic smile, before redirecting herself towards the bar. She breezed past it and Kallias, draining her wine and leaving it by the sink, before she entered the store room.

Cassian must have handed the baby off to Elain or Viviane, because not even a few seconds later, he was right behind her.

“Is this how it’s gonna be, Nes?” He asked, not stopping until he was right in front of her. “Are we just going to avoid each other, unless Nyx is concerned?”

The door hadn’t even finished swinging shut, but she noticed Kallias stacking a few boxes in front of the door.

For all intents and purposes, do not enter.

Their first night working together and already a fight. She couldn’t blame his frustration, this was all her fault.

“It hurts to see you,” she breathed. “It hurts to see you because I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

“You don’t know what the hell is going on?” He asked, incredulously. “I don’t know what the hell is going on! You’re so-.” His words fell away and his eyes shut as he rubbed his temples.

Nesta arched a brow. “I’m so what?”

“Infuriating,” he said, and met her eyes with a pained expression that knocked the breath out of Nesta. “It hurts for you to see me? It kills me to see you, but you know what? That’s on you. I wasn’t the one that started questioning everything. And you want to know what’s ironic? You’re pushing me away because you’re afraid it won’t work out. But, it’s not working now, Nesta. In pushing me away, you made what you’re worried about a reality.” He shook his head, slowly. “What the hell is the point of that?”

Nesta didn’t say anything. Her jaw locked and she refused to break his gaze, no matter how much it tortured her.

“It’s better for it to happen now rather than later,” she said, and hated herself for it the second the words left her. “It’s better for it to end before it really begins.”

Cassian chuckled, humorlessly, and shook his head. “That's bullshit and you know it. It already began, Nesta.”

He took a step toward her, and in such a small room, it left very little space between them.

Nestas breath hitched, and judging by the way Cassian’s eyes flared, he definitely noticed.

“Tell me you don’t care about me, and it’s done. We’ll pretend these past few weeks never happened, and we can move on,” he whispered, and she could feel his breath fan over her face. “Tell me this all meant nothing to you, and it’s over.”

Her eyes flashed down to his lips before meeting his own. “I can’t do that.”

Cassian wasn’t sure who moved first. If he grabbed her face or if she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, but before he knew what was happening, he had her back pressed against the store room wall. Gods, it had only been a few days, but kissing her again, the feel of her lips on his, it felt like he hadn’t been able to breathe.

Her hands were clawing at his back and he found her thighs, lifting her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He hadn’t even noticed she’d changed into a loose, sundress but thanks to her own wardrobe change, there was very little fabric between them as she let go of him to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans.

There were no words necessary, not when they both needed the other as badly as they did.

Their lips never broke, that contact remained, hungrily, needily, as Nesta pulled Cassian’s cock out and, moving the thin scrap of fabric beneath her dress aside, he pushed himself up into her.

Nesta moaned into his mouth at the feeling of him filling her. He bit her lip, and that moan deepened as he began to thrust deep inside of her, over and over again.

There was no foreplay.

Foreplay wasn’t necessary, not this time.

Two days, two nights, had been far too long when they had become so accustomed to this same ritual every night, time and time again.

Cassian’s head fell back as he fucked her, relentlessly, then he met her lustful gaze. His forehead fell against hers as he slowed his pace. With a soft, reverent curse, Cassian breathed her name.

She clung to him, the smell and taste and feel of him making her feel far more drunk than the wine or liquor had. Nesta buried her face in his neck, trying to cover the sounds tumbling from her.

He captured her lips again, knowing her body better than his own at this point, and thrust into her as hard as he could.

The bottles on the shelves rattled gently, but he didn’t care if anyone could hear them in the bar. He didn’t care if anyone caught them. All he cared about was that he was deep inside of her, listening to the quiet whimpers and moans that she couldn’t stop.

There was no way she could walk away from this.

Not just from the sex. Which, yeah, was incredible, but there was more to it than that.

Their souls were connected, which is what made the sex so mindblowingly phenomonal.

It was more than just sex.

It was something that Cassian swore no one else had ever witnessed before. Or, maybe they had. Maybe this is what it felt like when you found the person you were meant to spend forever with.

No, Nesta couldn’t walk away from this.

He swore, hoped, prayed she couldn’t.

He wanted to say those little words. Wanted to tell her, so desperately, that he loved her, but he didn’t.

He just kept saying her name over and over and over again with every thrust of his hips.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

“Nesta,” he breathed, and she cried out as her legs began to shake around him. He cursed, his fingers digging into her thighs as his body flooded with the need to explode.

As soon as her release slammed into her, he met his own, her name a groan as he spilled into her. They stayed like that for a moment, him still buried inside her, even as his seed started to drip down her legs. Thankfully, the sound of the party out front had covered any and all noises they’d made. Her breathing was still uneven as he pulled out, and he pulled that ripped hoodie from his backpack and silently used it to clean her up.

Tossing it back towards his bag, not caring if it made it inside or not, he paused in front of her, and tried to tilt her face up to his.

She refused.

He breathed, “Look at me, Nes…”

She shook her head, and damn him if those weren’t tears starting to spill down her cheeks.

He gripped her chin, forcing her eyes up to meet his. “Damn it, Nesta, talk to me. Just talk to me and tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I think you need to go,” she breathed.

He hesitated. “What?”

“You need to go,” she repeated, but there was no bite in her voice.

Cassian took her face in his hands and brought her eyes to his. “I’m not leaving. Not after that.”

“Go,” she repeated, and another tear slid free. “Go, Cass, please.”

He shook his head, fury, frustration, utter misery filling his core. He dropped his hand and stepped back. “Damn it, Nesta! What do you want?!”

“For you to leave,” she hissed.

“You’re a fucking liar,” Cassian snapped. “You say you can’t tell me that you never cared, you fuck me in a damned store room, then you ask me to leave?”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

“I’m making this harder?” he asked, breathlessly, unable to stop his darkened laughter. He looked away from her and sucked in his bottom lip.

A moment passed, and Cassian refused to meet her gaze. “I don’t get it,” he said, at last. “I don’t get it. I don’t know what you want. I don’t know what you want from me.” His words were coming out rushed, frazzled. “Know what? Fine. If this is the way you want it, this is the way it is. I’ll be at Elain’s and Azriel’s tonight, and I’m taking Nyx with me. I’ll bring him by tomorrow, when Viviane is there.”

With that, he was gone.

And Nesta was left alone, her hands flying over her mouth as she sobbed, still able to feel the soft, tender, alluring feeling of his lips on hers.

[selfawarejester]

So, someone requested a fic where Blue Team rescues a Child!Reader from a war zone, but unfortunately Tumblr ate the ask. If you’re the one who requested it, please enjoy!

EDIT: found a screenshot! @simp-for-fictional-men-only, hope you like this!

Blue Team x Child!Reader (Halo)

It’s been a long “day”, even by Spartan standards.

Blue Team had been trying to repel Covenant forces on an Outer Colonies planet for over a week… but it hadn’t been enough. Command had called an evacuation, and after destroying a base to help the efforts, Blue Team had been ordered to help with final evacuation calls in the nearest town.

On the Pelican ride to town, there was a brief moment where they thought it was a waste of resources to send Spartans for an evacuation op, especially because the other Spartan teams were still doing the best they could to strike back at the Covenant; not necessarily to stop them anymore, just to hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape and maybe a little revenge. The events of the week, coupled with the guilt of their brothers and sisters still risking their lives, weighed on them heavily.

But at the end of the day, they’re glad they did: they found a group in the Rec center, a dozen people in the boroughs, twenty in an apartment complex — the Marines wouldn’t have been able to lift most of the wreckage that blocked them from escaping.

By the time they’d gotten to the outskirts of town, Blue Team had been left alone to sweep through the dead town. Chief considered just going to meet up with the Marines — surely, they could match the pace of the overloaded Troop Transports — and this area was just dilapidated factories and shady looking establishments that had long since been stampeded.

But a need to fulfil his task to completion stayed his hand… and thank god it did.

At first, it was just soft sniffles that sounded from the inside of the rundown factory. Chief and Kelly, who’d partnered up to search this side of the district, thought it was one of the many Jackals that had been posted in the previous sector wandering, or a Grunt that had been left behind after the Jackals had entertained themselves (in which case, they should probably put the thing out of its misery), so they go inside.

Chief goes first, moving carefully through the debris so as to not dislodge the wreckage, or disturb the corpses of the few soldiers and more civilians. He retrieves their dog tags, securing them in one of the compartments of the MJOLNIR, and Kelly follows, stepping where he does.

Slowly, the sound becomes louder and louder, wheezing and snotty sobbing. Definitely an injured Grunt, he thinks. It’s coming from under a slab of concrete propped up against a wall. Kelly flanks to the right, while Chief goes to the left. He signals that he’ll lift it on the count of three, and grips the edge of the slab. When the slab gets tossed aside, Kelly raises her shotgun, pointing directly at the small figure.

You shriek and bury your head in your knees, pulled up to your chest. You couldn’t believe that after all the gross, awful things you’d had to sit through, holed up in this corner, you were just going to die.

But when nothing happens for a solid five seconds, you chance a peek over your knees and gasp. S-117 and S-087 are emblazoned across the chests of the armored giants… Spartans.

Kelly and Chief exchange confused gazes, having no idea how to deal with children. The last ones they’d had any interaction with was the Castoffs on Netherop, but they were more feral gremlins than they had been children.

(Kelly and Fred still aren’t entirely sure that the whole incident wasn’t a heat-induced hallucination.)

John really doesn’t want to go through another episode like it, but on the other hand, it would be easier if you were pelting rocks at them.

Kelly, being the more personable of the two, kneels to your height (or as close as a Spartan could get) and softly calls. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help.”

You knew that — they were Spartans! The greatest heroes Humanity ever possessed! You were just shocked that you were getting rescued by them.

“Y-you’re Spartans.” You whisper dumbly, but you couldn’t help it! How are you supposed to be cool when you grew up with Master Chief’s action figure on your nightstand. “Like Master Chief.”

You can’t see it, but John can sense Kelly’s smirk as she looks over at him and points. “Well, that’s the man himself.”

* Oh no. By the way your wet, moved eyes stare up at him, it seems you’re a fan.

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!! You hope your pterodactyl screeching wasn’t external.

“Whoa.” This couldn’t be real. You’d passed out from exhaustion, and were dreaming all of this. That could be the only possibility!

John knows that this is the part where he says something witty or inspiring… but he really doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head violently, a burning need to not disappoint your childhood hero, and clamber up to your feet… only to wince and lean against the wall, something sticky on your leg.

Now that you’re standing, he can see the dried blood around your ankle. “Hold still!” All the softness is gone from Kelly’s tone as she works on bandaging you up, but you don’t mind, appreciating how careful she’s being.

Co-ordinating with Linda, who informs him that there are patrols scouting the areas — probably only to get any survivors, and not to catch them, but they should still move — and Fred, who tells him that the convoy is flying off-planet via Pelicans in half an hour, John makes some quick calculations.

With the pace you’d set, hobbling alongside Kelly, whimpering every time you put your weight on your left foot, it would take them at least an hour. Too long.

“Whoa…” The sound comes unbidden from Fred when Kelly emerges, with you clutching at her hip, all bloody and dirty. A pang of sympathy strikes as he looks around and realizes all that you must have seen. He was well aware that normal children weren’t nearly as resilient as he and his siblings had been.

“….” He stays silent as you arrive in front of him, staring up at him with slight apprehension, heart racing as he tries to think of something to say — and for some reason, he lands on an awkward, weirdly Southern-sounding. “Hey champ!”

John and Kelly both shoot him weird looks, and he wants to dig a hole and die, when they hear it.

A small giggle falls from your lips, tiny hands covering your mouth as you try not to laugh. Fred sighs in relief, but his anxiety returns when Kelly’s joking voice comes over the comms saying “Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of them.”

Linda drops out of nowhere, and nearly scares you to death as you shriek and bump into John, holding his leg tightly. You don’t really notice how he freezes, confused again.

“…sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, you think with a pout and drop from Chief’s leg, careful of your own busted ankle.

“That’s Linda, that’s Fred and I’m Kelly. You can just call him Chief. What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.”

“Alright. We won’t be able to make it if you’re walking, so you need to get on one of our backs.” Chief tells you, straight to business. “Which one of us do you feel comfortable with?”

He’s really hoping you pick Kelly or Fred. It wouldn’t exactly be a burden, you’re much tinier than the full grown people he’s had to carry out of a war zone, and you’re handling it much better as well, even though you’re barely ten years old.

“Um…” You look shyly up at Fred. “If you don’t really mind…”

*Aw. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Fred beckons you over, and hoists you up between his shoulders, giving you the rundown on what to do if people start shooting, and to hold on tight when he tells you to.

*You’re much more considerate than the freaked out VIPs he’s had to extract. But he still feels you twitch every time the wind causes something to clatter, so he decides to strike up conversation.

“So how did you wind up there?” It’s not until afterwards that he realizes that, unlike soldiers, civilians aren’t comfortable discussing stuff like that. But you answer that it was your dad’s factory, explaining that it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

The Spartans, specifically Kelly, asked you questions about it, having never heard of it themselves. After all, military settings rarely allowed such breaches of protocol.

You only trailed off as you got to the part where he told you to hide, and Fred lets it be.

When you finally get to the convoy, a nurse hurriedly tries to pull you away from the Spartans to help out, apologizing for not doing it sooner when Fred tells her it’s fine and that you can stay. After all, Kelly had fixed you up well, and you seemed terrified at the prospect of being left alone.

All that was left to do was fly up to the ship in outer orbit, with the rest of the survivors. Since there were such few Pelicans, everyone had been crammed into them, military and civilians alike. You’d simply wandered onto the one they’d been on, sandwiched between Chief and Fred.

Chief watches you picking at your shorts, and suddenly remembers the chocolate bar Sgt. Johnson keeps giving him - “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Chief” He’d snicker and then leave, Chief just standing there, not understanding the reference - but hey, chocolate was chocolate.

“Here. You did well.” Your eyes go wide, and for a second he thinks you’re going to refuse, but then you snatch it out of his hand and snarf it down. This is how it must feel to watch him eat.

“You’re going to like it up there.” Fred chimes in when your gaze starts getting distant again. “Space is really cool.”

In a twist of fate, you find one of your best friends when you arrive on the ship. Their parents promise to take care of you, and thank the Spartans.

When they start directing the survivors to their quarters, you hug every Spartan, even Linda… or their legs, since you couldn’t reach anything else. (Thankfully, you telegraph it pretty well, so they don’t accidentally smack you or something.)

John just stiffens and then nods, Fred pats you on the head awkwardly and shuffles away (he was very shocked by the affection), Kelly laughs and claps you on the shoulder, and Linda just hums and pets you on the head like a dog, walking away afterwards.

You go on to be a Marine yourself, finding yourself on the Halo campaign, where Chief and Cortana save you once more. You’re surprised he still remembers you.

You leave a bar of the same brand he gave you at his shrine, giving a heartfelt eulogy and catching up momentarily with the other members of Blue Team before you all leave again.

You almost faint when he shows up at Requiem, though. Don’t feel bad, as Lasky fanboys behind Chief for the whole campaign.

Palmer corrals you and Lasky into a break room to make fun of your behavior after it’s all over.

[bestiesenpai]

Hocus Pocus - Sukuna

Boil toil and trouble, let's make this cauldron bubble lol gender neutral reader no content warnings! This is a...I guess medieval sort of au lol Sukuna is a knight and there’s kings and queens and blah blah

“(Y/N)!” Shrill voices rang throughout​​ the empty stone walls, the pattering of little feet causing you to break your concentration from the glass vase you were holding over a smoking cauldron. Turning to the heavy wooden doors as they were thrown open, you held the vase in the air as two children scampered into the room and began to tug on your clothes.

“What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Laughing breathlessly, you looked down at the royal children that had decided to come spend time with you.

“We want to play!”

“Right now?” Taking a sweeping look over your messy workshop, you felt them begin to try and pull you from the room. “Alright, alright! Just a moment.” There was no stopping the children when they wanted something, especially from you.

Closing your spell books and setting down bubbling beakers, you pushed the kids out of the room, closing the door tightly behind you. Letting them guide you towards their playroom, you took a deep breath, pushing down the slight irritation growing from being pulled away from your work. There’s no way the King and Queen would appreciate you losing your temper or simply saying ‘no’, even if you did have studying to do to become a proper witch and not a simple apprentice.

Walking through the halls of the castle, you shared pleasant smiles with the more senior witches talking amongst themselves. Their robes were the rich and vibrant colors of the kingdom, a stark contrast to your plain black robe and a strong reminder of how far you still needed to go.

Coming upon the playroom, you winced as they threw open the door and made the metal knob bang against the stone wall and shocking the other occupant in the room.

“Sukuna! Sukuna! We got (Y/N) to play too!” They yelled, finally letting go of your robes as they ran to the intrepid knight who looked ridiculously out of place sitting on a tiny chair surrounded by stuffed animals in the light pastel room. He turned to you and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at how annoyed he seemed with the whole thing. He was still in his armor, so you figured the children had pulled him away in the middle of his business as well.

“Oh how fun.” Sukuna said, clearly less than enthused about this whole thing. His pink hair was sticking out in all sorts of directions and he ran his hand through it once more, the clinking of his cold and shiny armor differing greatly with the softness that filled the room.

The children paid him no mind, rushing further into the room and grabbing toys and throwing them into the middle of the room. Talking animatedly amongst themselves, you used the opportunity to slowly walk over to Sukuna.

“So, what were you doing when they got you?” You whispered, taking a seat next to him in another tiny chair.

“Fucking training.” Nudging the sword at his side, Sukuna let out a gruff sound. “As you know, a war might be brewing in the East and-”

“There’s always a war brewing.”

“Exactly!” Throwing his hands in the air, Sukuna missed the way you chuckled softly. “I don’t have time to entertain these brats, I don’t even know why they had me join!”

“I don’t understand how your fellow knights let you get away from them.” Sukuna was one of the castle's best knights after all, having been praised countless times by the King himself and bestowed with many medals and honors.

“They thought it was a joke! Thought it was funny to see the brats pulling me away and I couldn’t say anything.” He scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, it is a little funny to think about. The Great Sukuna defeated and captured by two eight year olds.”

He rolled his eyes, but you could see the small upward curve of his lips even though he tried to hide it. You were pleased to notice him relaxing a bit, willing to converse with you as the kids ran around, completely forgetting the two of you were even there. Sukuna was usually so stiff around you, talking in short sentences and barely looking in your direction; always preoccupied with the thought of battle.

“(Y/N)! Caspian won’t let me play with this thing!”

“I had it first!” You turned to see them fighting over one of the vials from your room, recklessly pulling it back and forth and nudging the cork out of place. The shimmering purple liquid sloshed inside, threatening to drip out of the glass and splash all over the two of them. Jumping up, you ran over to the kids before they could open the bottle by mistake and cause a disaster.

“Caspian! Give that to me now!” You yelled after pulling them away from each other. The boy shook his head, holding it away from you. You groaned, taking a deep breath before kneeling to him, holding your hand out. “Caspain, please, it’s very important that I get that back.”

“Kid, just hand it over.” No longer having the patience to deal with this, Sukuna got up from his seat, taking long strides over to you. He grabbed the boy’s wrist as gently as he knew how, attempting to yank the vial out of his hand, but Caspain tightened his grip.

“No, it’s mine!” A small struggle ensued between the two with Caspian pushing and squirming to try and get away and Sukuna attempting to be as merciful as possible to try and get the vial.

“It’s not yours and you know it. Return it.” Sukuna was growing more annoyed by the second. He could easily overpower this kid and end this silly squabble but if he was too rough there were sure to be consequences.

“Be careful, don’t spill it!” Standing off to the side, your eyes were focused on the vial, anxiety rising every time it was yanked from one side to the other. Your cries went ignored, drowned out by them shouting at one another.

“Here!” Pulling the cork out, Caspian hurled the vial right at Sukuna’s face, coating him in the liquid. The glass clattered to the ground, quickly getting crushed into tiny shards as Sukuna stumbled in shock.

“What the-” Wiping furiously at his face, Sukuna could hardly open his eyes. The liquid evaporated on his skin, leaving behind a tingling burn.

“Caspian!” You exclaimed, glaring at the boy and running to Sukuna. The pungent odor of the potion burned your nostrils and forced tears to well in your eyes.

“What is this stuff?” Biting back the swear that desperately wanted to come out, Sukuna looked blindly around the room.

“It’s- well-”

“Out with it!” Sukuna barked, shoving you away. He felt like he was going to vomit, head swimming as he fell to his knees.

“Sukuna has kitty ears!” Caspian’s sister, Caroline, shouted in surprise.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do!” She pushed but it went unheard, overshadowed by the pained scream that ripped out of Sukuna’s chest. Writhing on the ground for what felt like ages, the pain slowly subsided and he was left breathing raggedly.

“Hello?” Opening his eyes, Sukuna was shrouded in darkness. Fabric covered his face and body; they were his clothes, he could smell that much, but he had no idea where he was.

“Sukuna? Are you okay?” Tiptoeing over to him, you nudged the armor now sitting on the ground in the shape of what used to be Sukuna’s body. Tiny claws tapped against the metal and a pink haired cat's head popped out of the top opening.

“(Y/N)?”

“Oh my god.” You placed a hand against your chest in shock, watching in horror as Sukuna wrestled himself out of his armor, angrily cursing his new height without really looking at himself.

“Kitty!” Caroline yelled, immediately crowding him and trying to pick him up. Keeping her at arm's length, you scooped up Sukuna’s new cat form into your arms and held him tightly to you.

“Kitty?!” Sukuna yelled, looking down at his body being cradled by you. “(Y/N), what the hell happened?!”

“Uhm, well it seems Caspian threw a metamorphosis potion at you...” Trailing off, you winced as Sukuna let out a growing hiss.

“Is that why I’m a fucking cat right now?” You nodded pitifully and he groaned. “Fucking brats.” Giving the two of them a look, Sukuna pushed himself up on shaky arms and crawled up onto your shoulder, digging his claws slightly into you as he settled around your neck. “The King and Queen will be furious to know what you’ve done.”

“(Y/N) can fix it!” Caroline shouted, trying to save them both from getting in trouble.

“Um, I guess I-”

“No, no they can’t.” Sukuna cut you off, sitting up a little straighter and letting a smug grin overtake his face. “You know (Y/N) is only an apprentice, do you really think they can fix this?” Letting a pause fall over the conversation, Sukuna tilted his head, his ears tickling your cheek. “You know how hard magic is to control, what if no one can turn me back to a human? Your parents will be enraged knowing they lost their best warrior to a pair of little brats.”

“Okay!” Slapping his hands over his ears, Caspian stomped his feet a few times. “We’ll fix it! What do we have to do?”

“There’s a list of ingredients I need to reverse this spell.” Pulling out the pen and pad of paper you were required to always have on hand, you scribbled down a few random items without thinking too hard about it. “Go get me these by the end of the day and we’ll have human Sukuna back in no time!”

“Let’s go!” Grabbing her brother's hand, Caroline ran from the room, ripping the paper from your grasp as she went. The door to the playroom banged against the wall again as they exited and left you and Sukuna alone.

“Well now that they’re occupied for a bit, go ahead and change me back, (Y/N).” Jumping onto the ground, Sukuna shook his head side to side and sat on the ground, his long tail swishing back and forth lazily.

“About that…” Wringing your hands together painfully tight, you could barely look at Sukuna.

“What?” His eyes narrowed, sensing your hesitation.

“I just, well I-”

“Out with it!” A loud hiss spurred you into speaking, along with Sukuna arching his back angrily.

“I can’t do it! That potion the kids took was a fluke to begin with, I’m surprised it even changed you into a cat and didn’t just burn your eyebrows off!” God it felt embarrassing admitting that Sukuna had essentially been right when he was calling the kids bluff. There wasn’t much more you could do on your own other than light a candle with your mind and make paperclips levitate.

“Okay, it’s not that bad. We can get one of your seniors to do it.” Starting toward the door, Sukuna let out a shriek when you scooped him up.

“No, we can’t do that! They’ll never let me live it down!” Holding him tightly, you felt his claws dig into your arms and hands. “L-let me figure it out, please!”

“You just said you couldn’t do it, why would I let you ‘figure it out’ when I can get changed back within a few minutes?”

“Please, just let me try! I have to prove myself!”

“Is this really the time for that? There’s a war-”

“Sukuna, there’s always a war! That’s all you ever talk about!” Yanking his claws out of the skin of your arm, you huffed and tried to calm the burning of your cheeks. “Just give me until the end of the day, please? I can fix you by the end of the day.”

Breathing heavily as well, Sukuna raked his eyes over you. There wasn’t much he knew about you other than you were another fledging witch scouted by the kingdom and that this was the most you’d ever spoken to each other directly and not in a group setting. It wasn’t just Sukuna who was stiff in conversations, it was you as well.

“Fine.” Worming his way out of your hold and back onto the ground, Sukuna swiped at his face a few times to fix the fur around his eyes. “If I’m not a human by nightfall, I’m going to your mentor.”

“Deal.” Nodding your head in agreement, you gestured toward the door. “Shall we go back to my study?”

“Lead the way.” Falling into step next to you, Sukuna walked down the halls to a part of the castle he never really visited. While he was marveling at some of the magic happening behind doorways, you were worrying your lip and praying with every step you took that you could actually find a way to turn him back.

“Nice little shop you got here.” Sukuna commented upon coming to your study. Truly it was nothing more than a glorified broom closet, just enough space for a bookshelf, cauldron, a few shelves and a tiny desk shoved in the corner piled high with a mountain of notes you’d scribbled down late at night.

“Thanks.” Your room looked like all the other beginner witch's rooms, but it felt nice for Sukuna to compliment it all the same. Clearing off a space on the small table beside your cauldron for Sukuna to sit on, you went to the bookshelf to try and find a spell to turn him back.

Taking sneaking glances at you, Sukuna went up to the edge of the cauldron, sniffing the vapors that rose from the bubbling liquid. Curling his lip in disgust at the pungent odor, he hopped off the table. Too engrossed in your books, you set down​​ a few on the spot he’d previously been occupying.

“(Y/N), what’re these papers on your desk?” Glancing over, Sukuna had leapt onto the furniture, gently swiping his paw at some papers and making them slide from the messy stack they were in.

“Just some notes from my lessons, I have a test coming up in a potions class and I really can’t afford to fail.” Shaking your head bitterly at the upcoming deadline, you turned your attention back to the book in your hand.

Glancing over a few, Sukuna found that you were correct, there were scribbles on pages and in the margins of textbooks cramming all possible information into them.

“What’s this…?” Catching the first few letters of his name on a paper that was crinkled up and folded several times, Sukuna felt his curiosity grow greater and greater.

Struggling to open it with his new appendages, Sukuna eventually got it open. At first, he wasn’t sure where to look, there were love hearts dotting nearly every letter and a hundred exclamation points. As he read and deciphered the words on the page, he started to laugh to himself. The person who you’d been passing notes to was gushing about another knight named Okkotsu and his kind demeanor all while teasing you for liking none other than Sukuna.

“So (Y/N), you have a crush on me?” He asked loudly, just barely catching the slightest hesitation in your body at his question.

“What’re you talking about?” Fighting to keep your face neutral, you sprinkled a blue powder into the cauldron.

“This note here says you’ve had a crush on me since you arrived at the palace and I’m pretty confident this is your handwriting.” Sukuna could practically see your heart begin to race the longer he spoke and a grin overtook his face.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nervously clearing your throat, you shook your head and closed the book in your hand. Taking a glance at him, your face fell slightly at seeing his paw holding the note open.

“Really? No clue at all? Maybe I should read it out loud and jog your memory.” If Sukuna’s smile got any bigger it would rip his cheeks apart. “Now where should I begin? How about this line, ‘Sukuna is so sexy when he does training in the evening! I love that he never wears a shirt, you can see all his tattoos!’”

“Shut up!” Throwing the remaining objects in your hand onto the table, you lunged towards him and the note. Cackling with laughter, Sukuna snatched the paper into his mouth and leaped off the desk, running circles around you in the room.

“I’m so sexy, you want me to kiss you!” He teased you mercilessly as you chased after him, reciting every embarrassing word you wrote. “You love my morning voice when I pass by you at breakfast!”

“Sukuna! Stop it!” Your entire body was on fire the longer he went and frustrated tears welled in your eyes. It was bad enough you had a crush on the most popular knight in the kingdom but to have him know about it so deeply was another blow to your ego entirely. Grabbing your wand out of a robe pocket, you let out a small shout and pointed it at him, hoping that was enough to get him to stop.

And surprisingly it was; Sukuna suddenly froze all movement, hanging in the air above the cauldron that he was trying to leap over. Stomping over to him, you ripped the note out of his mouth and tore it to shreds, letting the pieces flutter to the ground at your feet. Glaring at Sukuna with glassy eyes, you mumbled a short incantation and released him from the spell, making him plop into the cauldron below.

Sukuna let out incomprehensible screams of terror as he splashed around in the cauldron, struggling to grab any sort of footing on the side and pull himself out.

“(Y/N)! G-get me out of here!” Coughing at the liquid entering his mouth, Sukuna hooked an arm around the edge of the cauldron and tried to pull himself up only to be burned by the hot metal.

“I’ll think about it!” Crossing your arms, you kept your back turned to him. His mocking words rang in your head over and over, nearly drowning out his frantic cries. Quickly growing tired of the noise, you grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him from the cauldron, letting him fall to the ground in a sopping wet mess of fur.

“Took you long enough!” Sukuna sputtered, shaking himself violently to try and dry off. Unable to fully look at him, you slammed open the book you’d had open before and leaned over it, blocking out the world around you and forcing the words on the page into your head.

“(Y/N), do you have a towel around here?” Your head nearly turned on instinct to answer Sukunas question, a small twitch in your neck almost giving way to a full turn. “Oh c’mon, don’t ignore me.” His paw swiped the back of your leg and you shook him off.

“(Y/N), stop being a baby.” Touching you again, Sukuna grunted and rolled his eyes when you fully stepped away from him. “(Y/N)! I’m freezing down here with this wet fur, quit fucking around.”

“Find one yourself.” You snapped at him, storming over to your desk and plopping down on the chair. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sukuna weighing his options, looking between you and the door behind him. You could almost see the gears turning in his head as he debated on what to say.

“If I apologize, will that make you feel better?” He asked, earning a snort from you and making a smirk pass briefly on his face. “The Great Sukuna doesn’t apologize often, so listen closely, okay?”

“I won’t hold my breath.” Rolling your eyes, you relaxed the tight crease in your brow and let your back straighten up a little, no longer hunching over the desk. Clearing his throat dramatically, Sukuna padded over with wet paws and stopped before your chair.

“I’m sorry I teased you about having a crush on me, but in my defense who wouldn’t be hopelessly in love with me?”

“Is that really your apology?” Biting your lip to stop a burgeoning smile, you forced your eyes back on your paper.

“What do you want me to say? Oh (Y/N), please forgive me for learning about your everlasting love for me, I’ll conquer a hundred enemy fortresses if that’s what it’ll take!” Swaying side to side dramatically, Sukuna laughed as he made a chuckle force it’s way past your lips.

“Fine, I guess I’ll forgive you.” Rolling your eyes once more, you did a quick wave of your hand and a sharp gust of wind went over Sukuna, drying his fur in an instant.

“Just like new.” Walking in a few circles, Sukuna surveyed his body and without warning, jumped into your lap, making space for himself and looking over the book you were reading.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Adjusting in your chair, you had to move Sukunas bobbing head out of the way several times to continue to read. “Sukuna, do you even know how to read this?” The book was written in strange symbols only able to be read and understood by those imbued magical prowess.

“No, but it’s pretty interesting to look at.” Shrugging his shoulder, he let his chin rest on the edge of the pages. Quietly reading over the book, you had to shuffle Sukuna in your lap a few times, adjusting him over and over again until you were practically cradling him with one arm and turning pages with the other.

“I could get used to this.” Sukuna yawned loudly, a purr rumbling from his chest. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that his heavy, muscular feline form had made your arm fall asleep and become completely dead to the world.

A few minutes later and a soft snoring filtered out of Sukuna, a gentle sound to fill the room bathed in warm afternoon sun. The tiny window above your desk showed a sliver of the outside world, overgrown trees skirting the edge of the window pane and attempting to obstruct your view of distant mountain ranges.

Forcing deep breaths through your nose, you couldn’t stave off the drowsiness creeping into your body as well. Every blink made your eyelids heavier and the words on the page began to blur together until you couldn’t fight sleep anymore and let your head lean against the chair, joining Sukuna in a light afternoon nap.

It was you that woke up first, thirty minutes later and with a foggy mind. Surprisingly, Sukuna hadn’t woken up from the sound of a door slamming closed across the hall, still sleeping soundly as ever in your arms.

Looking over him, you noticed the markings across his face and body, tattoos that carried over from his human form. Tracing your finger along his face, you were enraptured by the soft fur that met your touch and continued along his body. Fully petting the length of Sukuna’s body, you prodded his soft, relaxed stomach and scratched gently with the tip of your nail.

“That feels nice.” He mumbled, barely awake and cuddling deeper into your side. Despite feeling embarrassed at being caught you kept going, expanding upwards and rubbing along his ribs and chest.

“Sukuna you’re so cute as a cat, are you sure you want to change back?”

“As much as I love being pet like this, I have a duty to my kingdom.” Stretching his legs out, Sukuna grunted like he was going to get up but gave up halfway, flopping back and letting out a soft sigh.

“You don’t seem to be in any rush to get back.” You chuckled, scratching behind his ears and smiling widely when he began to purr.

“Well…” Pushing his head against your hand, Sukuna shrugged. “They’ll be fine without me for a little bit.”

There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again,  filled with his loud purring and soft breathing. “You know, I haven’t slept this well in ages. Always too busy with training or going to battle.” Blinking his eyes slowly, Sukuna peered up at you. “Maybe I should become a witch like you, (Y/N), then I could relax like this all the time.”

“You’re kidding; me, relax? I’m constantly on edge, there’s so much pressure to break my back for the kingdom and become the strongest sorcerer.” Slumping against the chair, your head lolled back and you stared at the dark stone ceiling. “I’d love to trade places with you Sukuna, I want to know what it’s like to be so strong and confident all the time.”

“It’s pretty great, I won’t lie.” He mumbled under his breath and you laughed, jostling him around as you straightened up your spine.

“You’ll have to teach me sometime, okay?” Standing up and opening your arms, you haphazardly placed Sukuna on the desk and walked over to the cauldron, cracking the bones in your back and looking over the ingredients you’d put in so far. “Now, let’s turn you back into a human.”

“(Y/N).” Sukuna said your name slowly, hopping from the desk to the table by the cauldron and slinking past forgotten vials to settle close at your side. “Mind if I watch?”

“Why?” It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to but unless Sukuna was suddenly granted the gift of magic the recipe you were following would be of no use to him.

“I want to know what it’s like to be the smartest in the room.” Sukuna grinned at you, bumping his nose against your arm a few times.

“Shut up.” A light flush went over your face and warmed your cheeks, and a slightly impish smile pushed your cheeks up. The compliment warmed your heart just as much, making it beat faster in your chest.

“Shut up and take notes? Got it.” Nodding curtly, Sukuna squinted his eyes and stared intensely at your hands. Laughing wholeheartedly at how serious he looked, you did a dramatic wave of your hand and picked up a spellbook.

“Alright, watch and learn.”

Whether or not Sukuna was actually learning anything or truly paying attention was lost on you, but it was certainly fun having him so focused on you and your actions. Humming and nodding like he understood when you mumbled to yourself, Sukuna was acting just like you had when you first arrived at the palace with bright eyes and an eager mind.

“Try this.” Pouring a mixture into a jar, you tilted it back for Sukuna to drink from.

“Fucking disgusting!” Wrenching himself away, Sukuna spit the bright yellow liquid onto the ground and watched it sizzle. “Are you trying to poison me now?”

“Wha- but I was so sure that was the right one!” Scrapping the jar, you returned to the book. “Maybe I need spider legs after all…”

“You need me to go out into the garden and catch you some?” Still reeling from the rancid taste in his mouth, Sukuna glanced out the window. The light in the sky was beginning to wind down, it was almost dinner time and his stomach was starting to growl.

“No, I-”

“(Y/N)!” An all too familiar voice shouted your name and you got flashbacks to just a few hours before when your door was slammed open and two children ran inside.

“Oh great, the royal brats.” Snarling at the kids, Sukuna leapt up and onto your shoulder, curling himself around your neck and burrowing into the collar of your robes. Flinching away from him, Caroline and Caspian hesitantly showed you what was clenched tightly in their small hands.

“We got all the stuff on the list!” Caroline showed hers first, a handful of daisies and a small chunk of amethyst.

“Caroline was too much of a baby to get the other stuff.” Caspian huffed, extending his palm out and showcasing the dead spiders and newt eyeballs.

“I can’t believe it, you two actually listened for once.” You marveled at the ingredients, quickly snatching them up and sorting them out on the table.

“Took you long enough.” Sukuna huffed. “Now go get my clothes from that stupid playroom!”

“Okay!” And away the two of them went, rushing down the hall with echoing footsteps. Flipping pages in a book you’d cast aside, you read it over and put in all the ingredients they had brought.

“This spell really is the one to turn you back to a human. God, I feel like an idiot, the answer was right in front of me!” Kicking yourself internally, you looked at your stash of ingredients; you had all the things the kids had brought you already at your disposal.

Right as Sukuna was about to speak, his clattering armor and underclothes made an appearance in the room, clattering to the ground as the kids struggled to carry it all inside. Laying out his clothes for him, you poured the new potion into a glass.

“Turn around children, I don’t want you to see something you shouldn’t.” With a chorus of giggles behind you, you even covered your eyes as you held the glass to Sukuna’s lips. “Try and jump onto the ground after you drink it all, I don’t want you breaking the table.”

“Got it.” Sukuna was better prepared for the transformation this time, swallowing all of the potion and gritting his teeth at the discomfort coursing through him. When you felt the glass was empty, you turned around to give him privacy.

Holding your breath and crossing your fingers, every fiber of your being was hoping and praying that Sukuna returned to normal. You heard clothing rustle and armor clanking, but you didn’t open your eyes until a heavy human hand landed on your shoulder.

“I’m back!” Sukuna cheered, flexing the muscles in his body and tightening the various straps on his clothing. He’d forgon putting his armor back on, opting to wear just the loose green tunic and pants that he had on underneath.

“We did it!” The children cheered as well, clapping and smiling.

“You two were the whole cause of this mess! You should be cheering for (Y/N) for saving you from a punishment.”

“Thanks (Y/N)!”

“Yeah, you’re the best!” Giving you brief and crushing hugs, the two youths ran from the room, probably off to find other mischief to get into. Letting out a relieved sigh, you began to clean up the table.

“Nice work, (Y/N).” Patting you on the back, Sukuna attempted to help you by gathering all the empty vials.

“It would have been better if I’d just checked that book to begin with. I thought I wrote down those ingredients for them at random, but turns out the answer was so glaringly obvious that of course I missed it.” While it felt good to turn Sukuna back into a human, the knowledge that this could have been done a lot sooner weighed heavily on your mind.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Returning his hand to your back, Sukuna let it rest a bit heavier. “You’re still learning, you’re bound to mess up here and there. But hey, you turned me back in the end!” Smiling at you, Sukuna gave you a half hug, not caring if he crushed you against his chiseled physique.

“Sukuna, that was so nice of you to say, thank you.” Hugging him back, your heart felt like it was going to burst.

“You think so? I’ve been practicing ever since my commanders told me to be softer to the new recruits and give them words of encouragement.”

“Well it’s certainly paid off.” The heat from his body transferred onto yours, making it obvious when you pulled away from each other that your whole body was slowly being set on fire from the sweet words melting your brain.

Cleaning up was quick with Sukuna’s help and before you knew it your workspace was just as messy as before all of this had happened and there was the familiar chatter of other witches walking down the halls towards dinner.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” It was bittersweet knowing Sukuna was leaving to the same place you were but going to sit at completely different places, on opposite sides of the dining hall. You desperately wanted to ask to eat with him, to extend the moment you two were having, but your social rank prevented you from being the one to make the first move.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you going to eat dinner?” Grabbing the door, Sukuna slowly pulled it open, ignoring the shocked looks from passersby as he started to make his exit.

“I am but-”

“Then c’mon, let's go.” With half his body already out the door, Sukuna paused when he saw you weren’t making any move. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go on without me.”

“I want to go with you.” Quirking a brow, Sukuna swayed on his feet for another moment before getting fed up with waiting and grabbing onto your sleeve, yanking you from your room and into the hall.

All eyes were on you and you knew there would be a lot of questions hurled your way sooner or later about what was going on with the two of you. Someone as high ranking as Sukuna wasn’t seen with new recruits, especially not coming out of their workspaces.

“Now let’s go, I’m fucking starving.” Sliding a hand up to the collar of your robes, Sukuna held a fistful in his hand and made you walk with him down the hall.

“Sukuna, you don’t have to be friendly with me anymore, I already held my end of the deal.”

“Why should I stop? I liked hanging out with you, (Y/N). Unless you don’t want to hang out with me anymore.” His grip softened a little and you grasped his wrist.

“No, I do! I-I really do! It’s just, you’re such a high rank and-”

“So what?”

“So, it’s not really heard of for us to mingle!”

“What’re you talking about, I mingle with witches all the time!”

“Yeah but they’re more senior than I am.” Letting out a sharp grunt, Sukuna stopped abruptly and turned you to face him.

“Fine. (Y/N), as your superior I order you to have dinner with me. Happy now?” Without waiting for an answer, Sukuna began to walk again. “And if you give me any more shit, I’ll make you run up a hundred mountains when I train you.”

“You want to train me?” Sure, witches received some physical training but a majority of your learning was focused on magic.

“I think it’s only fair since I learned a bit of magic today.” Getting into the line to enter the dining hall, Sukuna finally released your collar.

“I’d like to learn from you.” Giving him a bashful smile, you were mentally clearing your schedule in preparation for the day.

“You might fall even more in love with me, I can’t wait to read the notes you pass around about me afterwards.”

“God, you’ll never let me live that down will you?” Slapping your hands over your face, you felt the urge to bang your head against the wall.

“Never.” Laughing at your misfortune, Sukuna nudged you forward and into the dining hall. “Now go get some food, I’ll save my biggest fan a seat next to me at my usual table.” Leaving you all alone and dying of embarrassment, Sukuna walked to a group of other knights, his loud and boisterous voice easily carrying over the others in the room.

Gathering all the pieces of your dinner, you looked out at the massive dining hall, crammed with knights, witches and other civil servants just trying to make it. Scanning over the tables, you could see gaggles of knights but not the one you wanted to see.

“(Y/N)!” Just as you’d given up searching and turned away, Sukuna yelled your name, somehow cutting through all the noise. Looking over your shoulder you saw Sukuna standing on a table and waving at you once you made eye contact. The seat next to him was completely empty, a space big enough for you to sit and eat at.

“C-coming!” You yelled back, unsure if he even heard you until you received a big thumbs up and Sukuna jumped off the table. With scalding cheeks, you gripped your plate tighter and rushed over to the table, eager to spend more time with your new friend.

[reawritesthings]

mother’s day sweetness | tom holland smut

summary: tom had another way to say thanks for bringing his children into the world.

words: 1.7K

warnings: 18+ MINORS DON’T INTERACT. fingering, nipple play, shower head play??? shower sex!!

pairing: dad!tom x reader

a/n: this is just a small little imagine I did. kssksksk, I hope you like it and apologies if the smut isn’t as good and short... i’m still practising

masterlist | taglist

“Alright, avengers, we have two missions to complete. Amelia, you are in charge of the cookies and Theo, as calmly as possible, you give mummy the flowers?” Tom said, with a loving smile on his lips, watching Amelia finish up the decorating. His gaze found Theo was mesmerised by the colours of the petals. Tom quickly scooped Theo up in his arm, bouncing him lightly to distract him as he knew Theo would tear apart the petals.

“Amelia, you done, darling?” Tom whispered, and Amelia held her hand up to focus.

Tom chuckled at the new habit Amelia picked up, shaking his head at the sight of his perfectionist daughter. “Hurry up, lia.” Theo whined, making grabby hands to the flowers but, Tom made sure they were out of his reach.

“You can’t rush art.” She sassed, grabbing the last sprinkles from the pot, drizzling them down.

“Voila,” she added, straight after.

“Right. Amelia, you start the march.” Tom grinned and watched Amelia rush towards him.

“Avengers…..” Tom trailed and let Theo finish the chant.

“Aseeeembleeeeeeee.” He giggled and watched his older sister climb up the stairs.

As the three of them made it towards the bedroom, Tom finally gave the flowers to Theo. “Theo, you have to hold onto it tight,” Tom whispered and watched his small hands aimlessly grab onto the stems.

Quietly, Amelia opened the bedroom door as predicted you were still asleep. On their tiptoes, they all walked around the bed. Tom helped Theo crawl towards his mum flowers, tightly around his grip.

“Wake up, mummy.” He tittered, his voice a little high out of the excitement, especially when you opened your eyes, and gave him a small smile.

“Oh, wow. Theo. These are beautiful.” You laugh, sitting up in bed as you quickly rub your eyes.

“Happy Mother’s Day!.” Amelia grinned, taking this as her cue to hand the cookies to you. You smile in awe and watch Theo make grabby hands to the cookies.

“Theo. You already had two.” Tom’s stern voice entered you, took a glance at him. Theo pouted, hiding his face in your chest making, Tom’s eyes roll.

“Theo, sweetie. How about we share one? You can pick one, and we can share so you won’t get sick?” You coo and watched his little face turn towards the cookies.

“Amelia, these are beautiful. How did you make these?”

“Uncle Sam. He was on facetime with me.”

"Well, we must say thank you to Uncle Sam," You laugh, breaking a cookie in half and feeding it to Theo.

Tom proudly brought out his phone and took a picture of his loves. He watched them with loving eyes, wondering how you would react to his Mother’s Day present when the kids went down for a nap. For now, Tom stepped back and allowed you to thank the kids whilst he called his mother to wish her a mother’s day.

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

“And the kids finally are napping.” Your breath, walking into your bedroom and collapsing onto Tom. He laughed, brushing your hair with his fingers as he tossed his phone away.

“Are you okay to stay here whilst I have a shower?” You ask, playing with the string from his hoodie. He nodded, pecking your lips before watching you get up.

You smile in thanks and head towards the bathroom. Tom was flickering g through his phone as he just caught on that he could give the first half of your present now and the rest later.

As you were about to remove your underwear, a familiar face invited himself in; his jaw dropped in awe as he gazed over your body.

“You okay, sweetie?” You chuckled, walking towards him.

“I-I thought I could join you. You know, save water, helping you wash your hair…” Tom grinned, watching you undress.

After three years of marriage, he was still mesmerised by your body. Your body radiated the spotlights, letting your skin shine through the streaks of light as you made it into the shower.

“Coming or what?” You laugh, glancing at the stillness of Tom’s body. Tom eagerly nodded, shutting the door behind him just in case their little rugrats ran in.

Tom made his way over to the shower, taking off his clothes in the process. As you tested the temperature to get the right touch, Tom’s hands ravished your skin, pressing kisses along your neck. He turned you over, back against the cold tiles; he looked at you in awe.

“You still got it, mama.” Tom breathed, bringing your hands right above your head. He used one hand to hold your hands up and the other to turn on the water pressure. Tom didn’t care about the temperature; he was too occupied with the wonders of the shower.

Tom welcomed a smirk to his lips as he thought of an idea. He took the showerhead from it’s home and slowly drizzled the water down your body, watching the droplets raid your breasts. He licked his lips as he turned the water pressure on high.

“Tom… What are you up too..?”

“Trust me.” Tom swooned, guiding the showerhead down to your tummy, grinning as he felt the squirm arise from your wrists.

“You little shit.” Your breath, hitching your breath as Tom teased your clit with the showerhead. You closed your eyes, letting the pleasure come to you. It wasn’t the first time Tom ravished you in the shower, but with the continuation of the showerhead, shooting up your clit made you rip out a loud moan. The wet sensation of the water peaking up your clit, made Tom grin in glee that he had this power over you. The vibrations of the water pressure made your legs shake.

Tom snickers, crashing his lips onto yours. Tom slides his tongue in your mouth, and both begin to dance in sync with each other. Tom pulled you a little closer, taking the showerhead away from your clit and itching it back in its place.

“Look at you. Already squirming for me.” He whispered between your lips.

His free hand guided it’s way to your clit, hovering his palm over the entrance. Out of desperation, you began to grind down against it, bringing out a brisk moan for Tom to do something.

“Needy girl, aren’t you?” He said, you only nodded.

“You aren’t the only one, mama.” He retorted and sniggered a laugh as something hard kneed your hip, proof of his statement. Tom takes no time and dips his index finger into where your throbbing clit is calling his name. He slides his finger along your clit, breathing sharply as you both felt how wet you were.

“Fu--” He groans but loses the rest of the word when he trails two fingers along your clit, and this time you whine for him.

Tom kisses you roughly and stimulates a contrast to how gently he presses not one but two fingers insides you. He curls his fingers between your folds, attempts a smug smile to show his innocence. You only bit onto your lower lip. The noise you were making was all Tom needed to know to work his magic.

“P-Please, Tom”, You breathed against his neck when he slowly started to move his fingers in and out.

He shook his head, “ I want to look at you. You look so pretty on my fingers, mama.” He whispers, leaning in and pressing his lips to your ear. “I wanna listen to you beg for it.”

Tom was a very excessive person, something about his mood when sex involves makes you want to obey him. If this were an ordinary day, you wouldn’t take it. Tom kisses his way to your neck and then to your collarbone. You think he would give you a little hickey but, you found his tongue against your nipple.

He slowly began to tease your nipple, flicking his tongue around it to hear the sweet sound of your moan. He played around with your breasts, letting you ease into his fingers before he stimulates his two fingers to roughly moving in and out of you. He knows the pace makes you crazy and, it wasn’t helping when his thumb rubbed circles against your clit. Tom was very good at timing and pacing when it came to fingering you; he was very skilled in that area. You let out mournful cries, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.

“Tommy, please.” You cry, almost losing your balance when his lip tightens around your nipple and his hand entwined with yours. He didn’t help with your balance as he loved watching you be helpless without him. Needlessly to say, he won’t be getting any free treatment after this facade.

“You are doing so well for me, mama. So so well.” He praises, voice a little harsh as he harshly felt his fingers reach your spot. He knew if he went any faster, you were going to stumble and, he wasn’t ready for that conversation with his kids. He moved his tongue away from your breasts and took care of your screams with his lips.

You felt your orgasm start slow, and Tom can feel the juice began to trail down; he knows you could push a little more. He fingers you quicker, using the slightest bit of his teeth to bit down your bottom lip to show you that he is close to stopping.

He takes his fingers out of yours, caressing your back as he tried to help with your balance. He knew cheekily that with his support, he can get a little thrill out of you still. He pushes his fingers in further and notices your hips thrust against his fingers and pours a smile to his face. Your nails dig into his back as you can feel your orgasm slowly run down. He stops his movement, looking right into your eyes as he thrust one final time before feeling your juice drown his fingers. You wail out his name as he slowly took his fingers out of you.

“So proud of you. Look at how well you did, pretty girl.” He whispers against your lips, kissing you right afterwards. He watches the liquid run down your inner thigh and laughs at the shakiness of your legs.

“Oh, by the way, thank you for bringing Amelia and Theo into my life.”

[maddiwrites]

Family Troubles

Pairing: JJ x Routledge!Reader, mostly John B x Routledge!Reader sibling dynamic 

Summary: (Requested) After the death of your brother, you move to the mainland with a nice foster family. Months later, you get the biggest shock of your life that leaves you questioning what you want.

Note: I’m so sorry this took so long. I hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 4.6k

You peek your eyes open to another sunny autumn day as your alarm echos off the walls of your room through your phone. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t dread the day ahead of you. Because you feel like you’re finally living a life worth living. 

It’s been about three months since John B disappeared. The worst three months of your life. You never would have imagined living a life without your twin brother. It was lonely and heart wrenching. You didn’t think you would get through it. And living with the Cameron’s didn’t make your life any easier. Ward tried blocking you off from the rest of the world. He was afraid of what you could do to his reputation despite knowing most people wouldn’t believe you. You were just a Pogue with a criminal background.Your word means nothing to Kooks and cops alike. Nonetheless, Ward didn’t want to take any chances. 

It wasn’t until you finally got in touch with Cheryl, your social worker, that your life started to change for the better. You couldn’t believe the irony of running to your social worker for help when you’ve been running away from her all summer. Surprisingly, she did hear you. She listened to you. She believed you! Although there wasn’t much she could do about Ward, she could help you get out from under his neglectful guardianship. 

She placed you in a foster home with an eager Spanish American couple on the main land. Of course you weren’t ecstatic about it. Foster care was never something you wanted to be placed in. Especially without your brother. But at the time, anything was better than living with Ward Cameron. 

The worst part of the process was telling your best friends. Kie and Pope, although disappointed, were happy for you because they knew this was what was best for you. JJ, however, didn’t understand how you could be so cool calm and collected about moving. Losing you to Figure Eight was hard enough and now he was going to have open water separating you two? He didn’t cope well with the news. He barely talked to you as you gathered your stuff to leave, almost didn’t show up to say his final goodbye with Kie and Pope. But he came as you were about to get on the ferry with Cheryl. The two of you cried and told each other you were sorry. You kissed his cheek and slipped a small piece of paper with your new address into his pockets. JJ reluctantly let you go with a promise that he will visit you as soon as he could and you believed him. Because he was your best friend, your soul mate, and partner in crime.

JJ saves up every week to take the ferry to visit you. He usually comes every Sunday, respecting your foster parents’ wishes that he not stay the night. At first they were wary of him coming over - they know about your past from the social worker and the News and how JJ was a part of it. They wanted you to have a new beginning. A fresh start. They believed you when you said your brother wasn’t a murderer and that you and your friends did nothing wrong. They were just afraid that JJ would convince you to come back to the Outer Banks (which he’s tried), or make you regress to past trouble making behaviors. But you explained to Maria and Luis, your foster parents, how important JJ is to you and that he needed to be a part of you life no matter where you were living. So they allowed him weekend visits, always making sure to keep an eye on you when he was here. 

Someone lightly taps on your door until you say, “Come in.” 

Maria pokes her head in and smiles when she sees you’re awake. “Morning, honey. Your appointment is in thirty minutes. Will you be ready to leave soon?”

You offer her a smile and nod. “Yeah, I’ll be down in ten.”

Maria nods. “Okay.”

She closes the door gently, leaving you alone to get ready for your appointment with your therapist. You agreed with your new foster parents to go to therapy once a week. They thought it would help you move on and grow and get rid of the nightmares that sometimes terrorize you at night. You went because you felt like you owed it to them to make an effort. They weren’t like the other foster couples you hear horror stories about. If they were gonna be there for you, you were gonna be there for them too. 

The therapy sessions were working. You’re more open to talking about what you went through. The therapist never gave you any inclination that she was judging you or analyzing you. She just listened and asked you how you were feeling about everything. She helped you adjust to this new life on the mainland and taught you new coping strategies that didn’t involve getting into fights or arguing with the cops. She helped you through your anxiety about starting a new school and making new friends. She even prescribed you some anxiety meds that helped with your nightmares and panic attacks.

Both Maria and Luis drive you to your therapy appointment. You silently question why the both of them felt the need to accompany you to your appointment. You mentally list all the reasons as to why they both would want to come when usually it’s just one or the other. You’re too afraid to ask, thinking they’re about to drop a bomb on you and send you back to the island. You don’t want to hear it, procrastinating the inevitable for as long as possible. 

When Dr. Hildegard greets you in the waiting room, she waves not only you but your foster parents as well into her office. The three of you take a seat on the brown leather couch in front of her chair. You awkwardly glance between your therapist and your foster parents, trying to read the room. You dig your nails into the skin of your hand to keep yourself calm, focusing on the slight stinging pain it leaves you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. She takes notice of your fidgeting hands and smiles. “I know you must be confused and anxious right now. But Maria and Luis have something they want to ask you and felt you would be more comfortable having this conversation with me present.”

“Okay...” You say wearily. 

Luis and Maria hold each other’s hands as they turn to look at you. You feel a little better when you see a smile on their face, making you think it isn’t going to be bad news. 

“Y/N, how would feel about officially being a part of our family?”

You glance between your therapist and your foster parents and tilt your head in confusion. “I don’t understand...”

“Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. “Maria and Luis would like to adopt you.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Meanwhile, back at the Outer Banks, JJ is getting ready to leave his house to make the last ferry to the mainland. He had to pick up another shift to afford another boat ride and a date for tonight, which left him racing against the clock.

Someone knocks on his front door. “Shit,” He curses and looks at the clock. 3:04. He needed to leave twenty minutes ago. He doesn’t have time to talk to anyone right now. He figures it’s his dad’s probation officer or druggie looking for money. So he ignores it so he can find his wallet. 

But the knocking persists. 

“Fuck,” JJ grunts and storms to the front door. “He’s not here -”

JJ freezes as he rips the door open. He didn’t know who he was going to find, but he definitely wasn’t expecting his dead best friend to be standing on his door step. 

John B smirks up at his shocked reaction. “Hey, stud. Miss me?”

JJ’s brain is doing flips inside his skull, knocking around with so many questions and curses and phrases and shouts. But with that is the immense excitement and relief that takes over his entire body. 

JJ jumps on him and wraps his arms around his best friend’s shoulders. Tears inevitably prick his eyes and he physically holds onto John B. He’s in utter disbelief. He never thought he would get this opportunity again. To see and hold his best friend - the best friend that’s supposed to be dead. 

“Wow. Who knew JJ Maybank could get so emotional?” John B jokes, trying to hide his own tears through his laugh. 

JJ removes himself from John B and shoves him back by the shoulders lightly. He wipes his upper lips with the back of his hand and sniffles back the rest of his tears. “Shut up, bro.” JJ narrows his eyes at the dead man in front of him and asks, “What the fuck happened? Where’s Sarah? Is she -”

"Sarah’s fine. We’re trying to lay low right now. No one knows we’re back.”

“What -”

“Look, I know you’re confused and there’s so much I need to tell you guys, but first I need to see my sister.” John B says with a sweet grin on his lips at the mention of his sister. He was most excited to see her - his first best friend and partner in crime. “Is she here?” JJ’s face falls at the mention of Y/N because he doesn’t know how John B is going to take the news that she’s no longer on the island. John B notices JJ’s hesitation and immediately get’s worried. “Where’s Y/N, JJ?”

“She’s not here.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You trail behind Maria and Luis as they unlock the front door to their house. The car ride home was awkwardly silent. You didn’t know what to say.

“Oh...” You said. You weren’t expecting that. You thought they’d be telling you the complete opposite. Yet, you didn’t know how to feel about their proposition. 

Maria and Luis looked at Dr. Hildegard for some insight or ice breaker since you froze up on the spot. You looked back down at your hand and pressed your nails even harder into your skin, leaving half crescent moons indented in your palm. 

Dr. Hildegard kept her calm smile and said softly, “Why don’t Y/N and I speak alone and I’ll grab you guys at the end?”

Maria and Luis, although a little disappointed by your reaction, agreed and stepped out of the room.

When the two of you were alone, Dr. Hildegard asked, “How are you feeling right now, Y/N?”

“I uh...” You stammered. “I don’t know. Shocked, I guess.”

“Usually when kids in foster care are offered adoption, they’re excited. Do you like living with Maria and Luis?”

“Yeah, they’re great. It’s just...” The last time someone offered to take you in as part of their family, it didn’t end well. It changed your life for the worst, you lost your only living family member left, and is the reason why you were here today. Although foster care isn’t that much different, you didn’t expect to stay with Maria and Luis past 18 years old. 

“Rebuilding a sense of trust can be difficult after past traumas. But taking those necessary steps, of letting new people in your life, can help you over those humps.”

“Why don’t you get ready for volleyball practice? I’ll take you there when you’re ready,” Luis says as the three of you walked inside. 

You nod silently and quickly hide in your room. You fall back on your bed that suddenly feels different than it did this morning. Like a reminder that it didn’t belong to you.

But maybe it could. 

You get changed for volleyball in a pair of spandex and a t shirt. When you close the drawer, something falls on your dresser, catching your attention. 

You pick up the fallen picture frame of you, John B, and the rest of the Pogues on Memorial Day Weekend. Kie had taken a selfie with all of you making silly faces at the camera in the middle of the marsh. That day always brings back amazing memories for you. Oh how you wished you could have another day like that. 

You stare a little longer at John B in that photo. What would he say if he was with you right now? Would he say yes to Maria and Luis like he did to Ward? Or would he encourage you to be more careful about who you trust with your life?

Maria knocks on your door and says, “You ready, sweetheart?” 

You place the frame back on the dresser and walk out into the hall to meet her. “Yes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

“So this couple....” John B says as he follows JJ off the ferry on the mainland. 

“Maria and Luis,” JJ says. On the way here, he told John B everything. About how horrendous your life was after John B “died.” How Ward treated you like a prisoner. How you practically begged Cheryl to help you. How you ended up on the mainland with a lovely married couple. 

“Are they...nice?”

JJ shrugs. “They seem like good people. You can tell they don’t like me around, but that might just be because they associate me with all the bad shit that happened to us because of Ward.”

“Does she like it here?” John B says as he takes in his new surroundings. As he and JJ walk towards your neighborhood, which isn’t too far from the ferry, he thinks about what your life could become here. Nice neighborhoods, friendly towns. It’s definitely better than the Cut. But it wasn’t home. 

“She’s learning to, I think,” JJ answers honestly. “She doesn’t like being so far away from the Pogues.”

“Yeah, I can understand the feeling,” John B says. Although it was nice to have Sarah around while they were gone, he couldn’t help but feel like a giant chunk of his heart was missing. And that was the Pogues. 

“This is it,” JJ says as they reach the end of a short driveway on the outskirts of town. A two story baby blue home with white shutters and a rose bush. Bigger than the houses on the Cut and smaller than the houses on Figure Eight. 

“This is where she’s been staying?” John B asks. Something swarms inside his brain. He doesn’t know if it’s betrayal or jealousy. 

“Yup,” JJ says, popping the ‘p’, “Her room is on the side.”

JJ knocks on the front door and looks down at his watch while he waits. Somehow, he managed to be about ten minutes early. Probably because of John B’s hustle to find his sister as soon as possible. 

Luis opens the door with a friendly grin that quickly falters when he sees who accompanies JJ. 

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Morales. Is Y/N, here?”

Luis looks between the boys and inhales a deep breath. He knows John B from the pictures on the News, the stories in the paper, and the cries of his name when Y/N was terrorized with nightmares in the beginning of her stay. 

Although the adoption process just started, he and his wife felt like they were finally forming a family-like bond with Y/N. Dr. Hildegard suggested starting over would be in Y/N’s best interest, encouraging new friendships, joining extracurricular activities at school, staying away from the Outer Banks for a while. Luis and Maria made an exception for JJ, seeing how happy he truly made Y/N. But they never expected to see John B. 

And he didn’t know what that meant for his family. 

John B notices Luis’s hesitation and politely holds out his hand. “I’m John Booker Routledge. Y/N’s brother.” 

Luis reluctantly shakes his hand, although apprehensive, never rude. He coughs awkwardly and looks back at JJ without saying a word to John B. “Tonight’s not a good night -”

“What do you mean? Sunday’s our day. She didn’t tell me she was busy -”

“I’m sorry, son. Maybe next week.” Luis shuts the door before JJ or John B could argue. 

John B knocks again and even rings the doorbell. “Mr. Morales! Hey! Come back!”

“Here,” JJ pulls John B by his arm. “Come here.”

JJ and John B round to the side of the house where your window sits right under the middle point of the roof. JJ find’s the nearest and smallest rock and tosses it up at the glass of your window. 

“What are you? Fucking, Romeo?” John B glares at his friend.

“You have a better idea?” JJ glares right back. “Trust me. I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Morales to call the cops if we kept banging on his door. They’re pretty protective of Y/N, which means they’ve never been truly fond of me.”

“Maybe she’s not here,” John B suggests. 

“She’s always -”

JJ freezes when he hears a car pull into the driveway. They both look at each other before walking back to the front of the house. JJ notices Maria first when she steps out of the car. She has a smilier reaction to John B as her husband which makes John B bounce on his toes nervously. 

You don’t see him at first, with your back turned to grab your bag. Then you spot him immediately. 

You stiffen when you see both JJ and....your dead brother standing on the lawn.  Suddenly your mouth feels dry and your heart is beating the crap out of your ribs. 

“Y/N...” Maria says wearily. 

“Hey, Dimples,” John B says with a smile, using the nickname he and your father use to call you when you were younger due to the deep pits in your cheeks when you smiled. 

Your eyes shift to JJ who looks at you with pinched eye brows. He was expecting a different reaction. One where you run into your brother’s arms and squeeze the shit out of him in a tight hug. 

But instead, you were feeling numb. You never expected to be face to face with your brother ever again. You convinced yourself he was really dead because holding onto hope that he was still alive was slowly killing you and even holding you back. You needed closure and that closure was accepting the truth that John B was dead and to never be found.

Yet, here he is. Standing and breathing and watching your reaction with a hurt expression. 

“Y/N...” Maria says again and lightly touches your shoulder. 

“I’m fine,” You finally speak, flinching at the way your throat feels scratchy. You swallow and turn to Maria and offer a polite grin. “I’ll be right in.”

“I don’t know...”

“Please, Maria,” You say, this time a tad more forceful but not rude. 

Maria hesitantly nods and blocks herself away with the front door. 

“I - I don’t - “ You huff. “How?”

“The Phantom...” John B licks his lips nervously. “Capsized...and Sarah and I...well...a shipment boat found us. Took us right to the Bahamas.”

“The Bahamas?” You repeat, taking two steps closer to him. 

“Yes. There’s so much I have to tell you -”

“Like the part where you couldn’t call?” You say accusingly. 

John B sighs. He should have expected it, but he didn’t prepare for it. He thought you’d be happy to see him, but now he’s realizing how hurt and confused he’s truly left you.

“It’s a long story -”

“Yeah, I’d expect the summary of your last few months to be a long one.” You look at JJ. “Did you know about this?”

JJ shakes his head. “He showed up on my way here.”

John B sighs. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t find a way to contact you, but we couldn’t! We didn’t want the cops realizing we were alive and we were looking for the gold -”

“The gold?” You laugh humorlessly and your hands run up your head to your scalp. Your fingers tug on the roots of your hair in frustration. “The gold’s gone!”

“It’s not! If you would just listen -”

“I don’t want to listen, John B! Because I don’t care about the gold. That gold took everything from me!” You yell as tears begin to build in your eyes, thinking back to what happened last summer. “I lost Dad, you, my home... I can only see my boyfriend once a week. And I was treated like a prisoner in the house of a murderer!”

“I know that it couldn’t have been easy for you but -”

“No. You have no idea what it was like for me when you were gone. Because you weren’t there!” You cry. “You left! You were living it up in the Bahamas, searching for gold, while the rest of us cried over your death and suffered the consequences!” Tears were now silently streaming down both John B’s cheeks and JJ’s as they watched you break down. “I couldn't sleep for weeks. I barely ate. Ward locked me in a room so I couldn’t tell anyone about what he did.”

“I’m sorry,��� John B says. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Back home -”

“Home?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I have a home.”

“This isn’t your home,” John B says defensively. 

“It has been. For the past few months. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” You say with a glare. You look at the house behind him, noticing Maria and Luis snooping through the curtains of the window. You think back on what happened today and the options you had. At first it was a hard decision to make and now it’s damn right near impossible. “Maria and Luis offered to adopt me.” You say honestly.

John B inhales sharply and JJ furrows his brows. 

“What?” John B says.

“I didn’t give them an answer yet. But this is an opportunity to start over.”

John B glares at you. “Think about your family!”

“I am!” 

You suddenly feel exhausted and weak, like the day has lasted over twenty four hours. Your head begins to throb and your neck aches. 

You sigh, “Look, I’m happy you’re all right and safe and unharmed, from the looks of it. But...I just need some time. Okay?”

“Y/N...”

“Please, John B?” You’re practically begging. 

John B sighs and reluctantly nods his head at your request. At the end of the day, you owe him nothing and he owes you everything.

“Okay,” He agrees. 

You walk past him without giving him a hug or anything, afraid you’ll break down in sobs and follow his lead back to the Outer Banks. But you need to be strong and figure out what it is you need in life, tired of following the path that always leaves you broken and alone. 

You kiss JJ’s cheek as you walk by him. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

JJ squeezes your hand before you disappear into your house. When the door shuts behind you, you slid down it onto the floor, finally letting your sobs wrack through your body. Maria and Luis run to comfort you to the best of their ability, but they don’t know how to truly help you. 

Later that night, over a cup of tea, you tell Maria and Luis everything. From start to finish. How your dad was obsessed with finding the Royal Merchant, to the compass, to Ward taking you in, finding out he murdered your father and covered up Sheriff Peterkin’s murder by using your own brother. 

Maria and Luis glance at each other nervously. They know how important family is, which is why they want you a part of theirs so badly. But they never want to take you away from one you already have and love. 

“I think you should think long and hard about what you want over the next couple of days,” Luis says. “And we’ll help you in any way we can.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, wiping away your tears with a napkin. “I know you didn’t sign up for this.”

“Honey,” Maria says, wiping another tear with her thumb. “We don’t want you to worry about that. This changes nothing for us, okay?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The next day at dinner, Maria and Luis sit you down and offer eager grins. Just like they did at your last therapy appointment. 

“Y/N...we have something we’d like to discuss with you,” Luis says.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

With the help of JJ, you meet John B at the Wreck with the others for a civilized conversation. Now that you’ve had a few days to think and calm down, you’re able to really appreciate how lucky you are to have John B back in your life. 

When you see him standing in the middle of the restaurant, you run to him and squeeze him around his waist as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You cry into his T shirt, telling him how sorry you are for your outburst. 

“It’s okay,” John B cries into your hair. “You don’t have to be sorry. I should be the one apologizing.” 

You pull away and wipe away your tears. “I think we’ve both been through hell and back and did what he had to do to survive. Neither of us should apologize.”

After giving the other Pogues a hug, the five of you sit down and recap each other’s last three months. John B tells you about his time in the Bahamas, how Sarah is laying low until she gets her shit figured out with her own family, and you describe life at a new town and a new school.

“It’s weird. There’s no division. No Kooks vs. Pogues. I don’t know if I like it or miss my enemies,” You say.

When the five of you are ready to say your goodbyes, you pull John b aside and say, “Actually, I think there’s a couple of people I’d like you to meet.” John B furrows his brows and follows you to a park where Maria and Luis are waiting at a picnic table.

When they see the two of you approaching, they stand and reach out to shake John B’s hand, officially introducing themselves and apologizing for being rude a week ago. 

“It’s okay. I understand,” John B says. “Thank you for taking care of my sister.”

“Pleasure’s all ours,” Luis smiles. “We’re lucky to be able to meet you.”

“Y/N’s told us such great things,” Maria adds. 

You roll your eyes playfully and look at John B to read his face. He seems to be enjoying himself. 

“That’s a first,” He even jokes and looks your way.

“There’s actually something we wanted to ask you,” Luis says and takes his wife’s hand like he did at Dr. Hildegard’s. He looks at you to see if you want to explain. “Y/N...”

You take a deep breath and face your brother. “I have agreed to be adopted by Maria and Luis.”

“But -” 

“Let me finish,” You cut John B off. “We talked about it and the three of us are going to move back to the Outer Banks to be closer to you and the Pogues.”

“But...” Maria says like a song with an excited grin.

You mirror her smile and say, “But...Maria and Luis want to know if you would like to a be a part of their family too?”

John B’s brows jump up in surprise. “Seriously?”

“I know it’s a big decision,” Luis says.

“And if you need time, that’s fine,” You say. “But, I think this will be good for the both of us.”

John B looks between you and your foster parents, who he can tell care about you greatly. Of course he wants that too, but just like you were, he’s nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He says softly as to not offend the couple in front of him.

“Yes,” You nod. “I’m sure.”

John B inhales a deep breath and nods. “Okay. I’m in.”

[nocapesdahling]

As the World Falls Down - Chapter 2

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: In which we hear a little from Helmut Zemo, the city is flying, and you find a baby. Not necessarily in that order.

Rating: Mature (17+)

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Here there be angst; Accidental Child acquisition; Mentioned child neglect by others

A/N: I made myself sad while writing this chapter, knowing that certain things mentioned will never happen. Here begins the forewarned angst. Maybe once I finish this story, I’ll write a fluffy AU.

Chapter 2: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 2.1k

Colonel Helmut Zemo repositioned his earpiece. He was not a man prone to fidgeting and never had been, especially on the job, but he had counted his squad after they had gotten clear of the city and they were one short.

You were missing.

His family was safe, his squad was safe, but you were not. While he kept his expression neutral, inside was a different story. You had to be here somewhere. You just had to be. He would not accept any other outcome. Once they arrived at their base outside the city, he searched room after room and asked person after person and could not find you. You were not in the Mission Control Room or in your workshop fiddling with your gadgets. You did not seem to be anywhere, which meant that he had to consider the idea of you still being in the city.

“Q, come in Q. Where are you? Branko is in need of you. He broke his new infrared glasses and Ana tore her body armor. Don’t ask me how she did it, darling. We thought it was indestructible, but you know Ana. She took that as a challenge.” He let a hint of his desperation show in his voice. “Q, please come in.”

All Zemo heard was static before a voice, your voice, answered and he breathed out in relief. “Hey, Boss.” you started haltingly. You sounded tired and out of breath. “Well, I’m still in the city.” Here, you paused and Helmut’s hand clenched into a fist. “We’re in the air, Helmut... I don’t know if I’m going to make it. You’ll have to give Carl his birthday gift from me. I think he’ll like it.”

His smile was filled with clenched teeth and looked more like a grimace. “Even now, you joke, my Q. Even now.”

__________________

You held back a sob at the pain you could hear in his voice.

You had been meant to rendezvous with the rest of your squad at the checkpoint, but had stopped as you passed an orphanage. You thought you had heard a baby crying, but that couldn’t be right. The orphanage looked to be and should be empty. You strained your ears, knowing you couldn’t leave a baby or a child there to die. There it was again, a baby’s cry. You knew your squad was long gone, but you reassured yourself with the thought that you could easily catch up with them after you saved the baby.

You searched through the rooms on the lower floor before finding one with cribs. No baby was in sight. You paused, hearing fighting and chaos outside. Knowing that you had to move quickly, you hoped for another cry. Just as you were about to dig out your infrared glasses from your pack, there it was again. There was a cry coming from behind some hospital style curtains. You pushed them aside and found what looked like a newborn baby or close to it, abandoned before their life could even start.

You didn’t have much experience with kids, but hoped your time as a babysitter would help somewhat. You had been the babysitter for the family with twins that lived in the apartment complex a few blocks over. They had been cute kids, a boy and a girl, but they weren’t babies. You had been on the job when their apartment was bombed and heard the news afterwards. Even with your connections, you had no luck in finding out what happened to them. You assumed they died alongside their parents and mourned them accordingly. You were never able to bring yourself to watch The Dick Van Dyke Show anymore. It brought back too many memories.

You picked the baby up and cradled her to your chest as she blinked her eyes up at you. Well then, maybe not as newborn as you had supposed. Her eyes had already settled on a color that was close to your own. It was a bit uncanny. You smiled at her, tickling heir stomach as you checked her diaper. You crinkled your nose at the smell. “I see that’s why you’re crying, little one. Let me fix that for you.”

You laid the baby down to change her when her eyes scrunched up and she let out an almighty wail. “Oh my, little one. What strong lungs you have. What about a song? How does that sound, hmm?”

The baby continued to cry and squirm, and you knew this needed to be done quickly as the sounds of fighting had escalated outside and you didn’t want the robots to be alerted to your presence.

You began to sing, “We have been waiting for you. Now you are here. More perfect than I imagined. Our house is now a home. No matter where you go. Sunlight shines on you.” You sang the lullaby again as the baby stopped crying and blinked sleepily.

“There. All done. I’m glad you liked it, though I don’t know if I’m much of a singer. My mother used to sing it to me. You should hear my friend sing. He has such a lovely deep voice and my godson loves it when he sings ‘Baa, Baa, Black Sheep’. I’m sure they’ll both be excited to meet you.”

You smiled down at her and searched the room, finding a baby carrier hidden behind some blankets and formula in the fridge in the next room over. You lifted the baby and put her in the carrier, strapping it to your chest and chatting idly all the while. You noted that she must be around 4 to 5 months old as she supported her own head just fine. You fed her the formula, mopping up her chin, and prepared yourself to go outside. You positioned yourself by the window, gun in hand and infrared glasses in place. There didn’t seem to be any robots in the vicinity at the moment, which meant that it was time to leave and catch up with your squad. You checked the baby one last time and were glad to see that she was still asleep.

You were ready. You stepped outside the orphanage and started to jog in the same direction you were going earlier, doing your best not to jostle the baby. Maybe, you could get through this and get both you and your little charge to safety. Maybe, you would see Helmut again. Then, the street behind you began to splinter and crumble and the ground gave a great lurch. The city had begun to rise from the ground.

__________________

You debated what to do and came up with some semblance of a plan that had at least a 65% success rate. That was not in the least bit promising, but it was better than the 0% chance you had if you stayed here. You needed to get you and your new passenger off the city somehow, and this was the only plan you had thought of so it would have to do.

You had ducked down in an alley that you recognized as not too far from one of your favorite cafes when your phone began to ring. Quickly, you picked it up and answered it with a brief glance at the caller ID. It was Helmut. __________________

“... Even now, you joke, my Q. Even now.”

“Well, Helmut, you know me. Always look on the bright side of life, even when the city is flying and you’re carrying an orphaned baby.”

“A baby, Q?” His tone was disbelieving and you could picture what he would have said if he were here in front of you. “Only you, Q, could get yourself into this mess. For someone so intelligent, you can be kind to the point of stupidity. I admire it as I admire you, but you must not let your compassion come before your safety.”

“Yes, Helmut. A baby. I think I’ll call her Alena. Maybe give her Heike as a middle name. What do you think? Oh, and you’ll be the godparents of course?”

You could hear Helmut let out a heavy breath and the slight hitch in his voice when he answered. “We’d be honored, Q. Heike will be thrilled and Carl will love having a new playmate. They’ll be like brother and sister I’m certain, eating Turkish Delights even when I’ve specifically told them not to.”

You laughed a bit wetly. “That’ll be nice. If we can get out of the city. We have something to look forward to. Cavities galore.”

He laughed and when he spoke his voice was softer than normal. “You’ve always had a soft heart, darling Q. My friend, I told you that your compassion might get you killed one day.” There it was. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist commenting on what he sometimes thought of as a weakness of yours. You also knew that he wouldn’t have you any other way. He sounded composed over the line, but you knew him well enough to know that he was suppressing everything and trying to hold it back for you to keep your focus on your current situation.

On the other side of the phone, Zemo was glad that he was alone so no one could see their leader fighting to keep his emotions contained. Now was not the time to be showing weakness in front of his squad. They needed him controlled and composed.

You were the only member of his squad that he could be soft with anyway.

“I guess you were right, Boss. I guess you were right. But I’m going to do my best to make sure that today’s not that day.” You paused, holding in a sob. If you weren’t careful and if your plan didn’t succeed, then today would be that day.

Over the course of the conversation, you had been walking as fast as you could, without jostling Alena too much, in the direction of your apartment that was luckily in the center of the city. You dodged more robots, and had the brief thought that whoever had made these things had to be compensating for something.

Why else would they have made so many?

You continued, mustering your nerve as you finally came in sight of your apartment. “I love you, Helmut. You know that, right?”

“I love you too, my Q.” He responded without hesitation.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Helmut. The absolute best. Give my love to Carl and Heike.”

You had reached your apartment as the robots all began to fly towards the bridge side of the city, leaving the way clear for you. “Goodbye, Helmut Zemo. Use that exploding pen at least once for me, won’t you?”

With that, you ended the call and turned off your earpiece. You wanted to spare him what could be your final moments and selfishly did not want to hear a goodbye from him. It might be cruel of you to not give him the closure you now had, but a goodbye from him felt too final. It meant you would never see him or the little smiles he gave you, when he didn’t think it would be professional to laugh at your little asides during mission briefings, again.

Just the thought of never seeing Helmut smile or hearing him laugh again made your tears fall, which you quickly wiped away before they could hit Alena. You brushed your fingers through her baby fine hair and checked on her. “Still asleep, little one? It’s been a hard day for us and it’s about to get harder, but that’s okay because I have a plan.” Your eyes filled with determination as you walked towards your apartment’s makeshift workshop. You had just the project in mind for this.

__________________

You were unaware that in your squad’s base, Zemo was staring at his phone in horrified disbelief. You had hung up on him, and he was unable to help you from here. He was a powerful man, and this feeling of powerlessness both stunned and devastated him.

He could not save you.

Zemo threw the phone, smashing it against the wall, and screamed your name. Not Q, but your full name, the name he hadn’t called you in years. He received only silence in return. He trashed the room until his hands were bloody and as he fell to the ground, he finally allowed his anguish to break free and sobbed. He had not cried like this in years. The destruction of the room and his tears weren’t enough.

Nothing would ever be enough again.

He did the only thing he could do as he recalled your last words. “I will, my Q. I promise.”

Tag List: @rumblelibrary​

A/N: I couldn’t help myself with the reference to the Maximoffs. The Sokovian lullaby is the translated version of the one Wanda sings in WandaVision. Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for this series.

[yapperlesbian]

a fix-it fic/drabble (???? i might write more if people want it and post it to ao3) for acosf because i got through 7 chapters and gave up. it was that bad. i worked really hard on this so feedback is very much appreciated <3

Exiles of Light and Flame

Nesta was being sent to the human lands as punishment by her sister and her mate. No, she was being banished. Banished to a place where she was feared and forced into isolation. Her sister hadn’t even bothered to drop her off herself, she’d had Morrigan do it. The blonde hadn’t made the trip pleasant, to say the least. She knew that Lucien and his human friends had taken up residence in the area, she just didn’t expect it to be so far of a walk. Nesta rubbed her hands together to keep the biting wind at bay. Perhaps she should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

“Nesta.” Lucien greeted her with a guarded nod, stepping aside to allow her in. He didn’t ask why she was there or how she got there. He simply led her to the sitting room where Jurian and Vassa were sitting on an atrocious pink couch. The couch was gaudy and loud and unlike anything Feyre would’ve chosen to decorate with. Her lips upturned in a small smirk at the thought. Maybe a banishment to the mortal lands wouldn’t be the torture she’d first imagined.

“That’s an ugly couch. I like it.” It was the first thing she said. Blunt and rude, something her sisters found disgraceful. Jurian barked a laugh at her comment, obviously not taking it to heart. She tilted her head to the side in calculation, gauging their reactions to her presence.

“Nesta Archeron. No longer welcome among the Night Court, I presume.” Jurian was more perceptive than he let on. Nesta wondered if spending all that time on Amarantha’s finger had taught him how to find hidden emotions and intentions.

She’d heard Feyre speak of the three of them before, disdain evident in her tone. Lucien and his new human friends called themselves the Band of Exiles. It was a better name than Court of Dreamers but Nesta knew better than to voice that opinion to her sister and her temperamental mate. Sometimes she forgot that her sister had once been human. That she had once been human. That life seemed so far away now, not that it was only two years prior.

“Do I get a room?” Nesta had decided she’d stay awhile, if they’d have her. Though she was fairly certain none of them actually owned the home they were residing in. Jurian and Vassa exchanged a look, with each other and then Lucien. Lucien who had only said one word to her, her name.

“I’ll show you to it.” He finally breathed, his auburn hair resembling living flame beneath the faelight. He wasn’t what she expected, what she remembered. His steps weren’t deep and commanding like the Illyrian males of her sister’s new family, instead they were quiet and calculated. She followed him silently, unbothered to find conversation to fill the silence.

Nesta nodded a thanks as she entered her new room, shutting the door and catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She ran a finger through her long hair, it surprisingly still holding a semblance of shine despite her horrid eating habits. It was the High Fae genes she now had that kept it so. Her pointed ears came into view, a stark contrast to the ears she had grown up with. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to them, to her new body. Nothing felt like it was her own anymore, especially not the power she’d stolen and kept buried deep inside. She needed a change, something to take control of.

~

It was Jurian who found her digging around in the kitchen searching for scissors, arriving just in time to see her hold them up triumphantly. He chuckled at the sight, his eyebrows raised in question.

“I’m cutting my hair.” Nesta explained, not that she owed him an explanation. She didn’t owe explanations to anyone. Her sister and her husband didn’t agree with that sentiment. Hence, her banishment. “Well, I was going to ask Vassa to do it. I saw that she cut hers.”

“I cut her hair.” Jurian corrected, holding his hand out for the scissors. Nesta clutched them closer, unsure at the prospect of the former general cutting her hair. “Her Majesty would hack your hair, you think she’s ever lifted a pair of scissors herself? There’s no one to cut hair for you on the battlefield, you learn to do it yourself.”

Nesta nodded, handing over the scissors and plopping herself into one of the dining chairs. When Jurian asked how short, she pointed to halfway up her neck. She wasn’t expecting how much lighter she felt the more he snipped away. It was like she had been tied to a weight upon the ground and she was finally freeing herself.

Elain would have fainted at the sight of most of her hair upon the floor. What Cassian would think of it briefly drifted across her mind before she shut it down. He had agreed to send her here, to uproot her small sense of normalcy and send her away. She wouldn’t forgive that. She couldn’t forgive that.

~

If Lucien was surprised at her dramatic hair change, he didn’t show it at breakfast. She was surprised at the comradarie he shared with Jurian, treating the human as an equal. She still remembered how her sister and her court had looked down upon her when she was human, how they still did. How they reviled her with fear and distaste. An embarrassment to our reputation, Feyre had said. As though the Night Court wasn’t already hated long before her.

“Your eggs are getting cold.” Lucien reminded her with a surprisingly warm tone, taking her out of her thoughts once again. Jurian had since left the room, something she hadn’t even noticed. She pushed around her eggs and took a small bite.

“Thank you, for breakfast and for letting me stay here.” She forced a small smile, taking another bite of the eggs before pushing the plate away. Lucien didn’t comment on her barely touched plate, he simply took it and added to the pile of dishes he was washing.

“It’s no problem, wouldn’t want you out on the streets.” Lucien shrugged as he washed the dishes, looking up to meet her eyes. The scar across his metal eye was striking in a surprisingly handsome way. It was only then that she’d noticed he had tied back half of his hair. It wasn’t a bad look on him, he almost looked relaxed. “There’s a library in the house, second door on the left from the foyer.”

The red-headed male remembered how she had spent most of her time within the House of Wind. She was so sure no one was paying any attention to her there. Although his reasons for remembering could have to do with the fact that she was often with Elain then. She nodded and headed towards the library, it was empty when she stepped inside but magically warmed like the rest of the house.

Nesta ran a finger along the spines of the books, feeling which books were more worn than others. Whoever had previously owned the home had an extensive collection. It had been a while since she had read anything, too busy trying to bury her thoughts beneath alcohol. She picked a random one with a worn spine, her dress falling over her feet as she curled up in one of the chairs.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed but soon she noticed the laughter coming from the living room. Vassa must have returned for the evening. A glance outside confirmed it, catching the end of the sunset. It was her plan to avoid her new housemates and retreat to her room but then there was a knock at the door.

Somehow the knock sounded and felt so familiar, but it couldn’t be. She hated herself a little for hoping that maybe it was the person she thought it was. That he’d come to save her. That he had defied his High Lord and decided she was worth it, even after how she’d treated him since the war.

Lucien got to the door before she could make herself move, opening it to find a broad shouldered Illyrian male. Nesta peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. When Lucien stepped aside, she saw what he was holding and the hope in her heart shattered. Cassian was here, but he wasn’t here for her. He was here to bring the last of her things and to be rid of her. Nesta didn’t need to listen to any explanations or ramblings, she didn’t have it in her. So, instead she turned her back on Cassian and walked away.

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I’m No Good - o n e

Summary: Tallulah Forester isn’t a bad person, she’s just made one too many bad decisions. Which is why she has now found herself four hours away from her home in Seattle, to her estranged fathers little home in La Push, with her stepmom and two half sisters, whom she has only been with a couple of times in the past 15 years. Her mother and father had agreed, shockingly, that the small town lifestyle would be beneficial to their wild child, but bad habits die hard, especially when it comes to being in control.

Timeline: Takes place a few years after the events of Breaking Dawn

Pairing: Paul Lahote x OC (Tallulah is 18)

Warnings (future chapters): Drugs/Alcohol, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Jealousy, Mental Health, (Mentions of SA, but no details)

There are losses that rearrange the world. Deaths that change the way you see everything, grief that tears everything down. Pain that transports you to an entirely different universe, even while everyone else thinks nothing has really changed.

Tallulah stared out the window in the back seat with her knees tucked up to her chest, arms wrapped around them tightly as her father drawled on, switching from topic to topic, your sisters and Kira are so excited your coming to we’ve already enrolled you at the school to do you remember this person or that person? Anything to fill the silence from creating a  suffocating atmosphere in the car. It all sounded like white noise to her, she barely remembered La Push. 

She moved to Seattle with her mother when she was six and the two of them never looked back, whenever she would see her father or half-sisters, they would meet halfway in Port Angeles and then head their separate ways. It was easier that way for everyone involved. 

Josette and Lenna, her half-sisters, were ten the last time she spent any actual memory inducing time with them. Although they are only two years younger than her, they were so different. So in tune with the tribe, whereas she barely knew anything about the histories. She doubted anything would have changed in that respect.

Tallulah's headaches from her hangover, or maybe lack of sleep, she thought, and as she laid her head against the window she listened to the sound of passing cars and her dad's voice as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

--------

Tallulah awoke to the sound of the car door shutting and a nearby dog barking, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, grateful her headache was gone, but now in its place was a lump in her throat, as she looked around her surroundings outside of the car. The little blue house she vaguely remembers. The tire swings in the old oak tree. A woman's laugh caught her attention, as she looked to see her dad and stepmom, chatting away, happier than ever. Tallulah felt so out of place. Like she was an intruder coming in to ruin her fathers happy, little family with her black cloud of disappointment. 

Tallulah groaned to herself as she unbuckled herself, might as well get this over with, she thought to herself while opening the car door and slowly stepping out, stretching as she did. She could feel the two adults eyes on her as she shut the door gently, looking towards them, Kiras big smile, that if she didn’t know better would look insincere, but she did know. Her stepmom was a tryhard, doing anything and everything to be the perfect wife, the perfect mother and stepmother, no matter how hard Tallulah pushed against her kind persona. She was the reason her family was in pieces. Kira and her father were no doubt in love, even when her parents were still together, they never looked at each other the way she sees her father looks at Kira and vice versa, like they are each other's reasons for being. She moves, he moves. Tallulah nearly physically cringes. It's not something she ever wants for herself, that fairy tale love.

She walks toward them slowly, Kira meeting her halfway, wrapping her arms in a bear crushing hug that she doesn’t reciprocate, looking past her at her father who has that ‘be nice’ look on his face, and clearly, she was in no place to fight that. She couldn’t help but think, if this doesn't work out the way her parents think it will, where is the next place she would be shipped off to? 

Kiras' soft, sweet voice shakes her from her thoughts, “it's so nice to see you again. Your hair has gotten so long.” Tallulah raises an eyebrow before stating, “I've cut it a few times since I saw you last.” Kira laughs off the dig, before walking towards her father and saying, “the twins are out, we’d figured you'd be better off getting settled without a full house.” Tallulah nodded in response as her father spoke up for the first time since arriving, “besides, we have some things to discuss. Expectations and what not,” 

Tallulah eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Rules? I’m eighteen. I don’t need to have any rules.” Her arms crossed over chest, as if she were a child. 

“If you think that you will be continuing your..extracurricular activities that you have picked up in Seattle, you are wrongly mistaken” he says in what she assumes is his fatherly tone that works on the twins, but not her, he gave up that right fifteen years ago. “Your mother has filled us in on everything, Tally” She rolls her eyes at this, as if she knows everything, she thought to herself.

Kira stood up on the porch, just inside the doorway, “Joseph, let her settle in, we can have this conversation tomorrow, after the bonfire.” she said in ‘dont fight me in this tone’, to which Tallulah appreciated, yet was confused, “Bonfire?” she asked, as she made her way up the steps of the house leaving her dad to bring in her few bags, “The tribe bonfire party happens once a month, the girls love it, plus you can meet some of your classmates before you start school.” Kira spoke as if this was something she should look forward to, but in all honesty, large gatherings were not Tallys scene, despite what her mother thinks. But, she would attend, save face and hope with good behaviour she would be back in Seattle with her friends in no time. This thought reminded her to shoot them a text quickly explaining her situation, hoping they would see it as an SOS, before shoving her phone back in her pocket and following Kira around the house like a little kid, listening to where things were kept, which rooms were which and then finally a stop at the room in which she would call hers. The walls were a blank, cream color, with light blue bedding and a wooden desk shoved in the corner, along with what looks like textbooks sitting on top.She nods politely as Kira mentions they will be leaving within the hour but try to settle in and suggests she may want to change out of her cotton shorts, as it “gets quite cold compared to Seattle” as she put it.

-----

7:14 read the time on Tallulah's phone as they walked up to the beach, the sun had just begun to set and the temperature had, in fact, dropped quite a bit, thankful for Kiras advice, Tallulah had changed into a pair of loose, blue jeans and had tucked her hands into the pockets of her oversized, black hoodie, fingers curled under the long sleeves to keep them warm.

She walked slightly behind Kira and her father, standing off to the side as they were greeted by people, before they had reached whom she suspected to be the twins. They looked so different from what she remember, her father lowly spoke to her, as Kira caught their attention, pointing out the smaller of the two as Josette and the taller, as Lenna. Josie dawned a baggie pair of dark pair of overalls, with a striped sweater underneath, her hair in two space buns, which was quite different from her sister, in her plaid mini skirt and form-fitting long sleeve shirt, her pin straight, dark hair fanned out behind her back. Tallulah could already tell they wouldn’t get along.

 She watched as Lenna stalked away from her mother to a group of people who looked around their age, before snapping her eyes back at the sound of her name being called, to see Kira and Josette waving her over, before she could even move her feet willingly, her dad was nudging her in their direction, as if she would turn and walk the other way. 

Josette moved over so she could sit directly beside, a friendly smile that resembled Kiras on her face, “ Hi Tally” she spoke her childhood nickname softly, “it’s been awhile, you look so much older, not in a bad way, like mature, adultish, but obviously your only two years older than me so not technically an adult..” she rambled off, “Hey Josette” and before Tallulah could say anything else, she was interrupted by the younger girl, “Its Josie or Jo, whichever fine, just not Josette” she spoke quickly, a pale blush crossing her olive toned skin, to which Tallulah just nodded and asked, “How long do these things last?”

“That depends,” Josie spoke, “Typically the adults leave once the stories and tribal matter finishes, so maybe an hour or two. But we usually stay later, or at least Lenna does.” she said, looking in the direction of her twin, who was now surrounded by a group of other rambunctious teenagers. “Sam Uley's crew is here tonight, so who knows if that will even happen, especially after last time.” Tallulah didn’t question the younger girl, mainly because she just didn’t care to. She looked away from Lenna and her friends, her eyes gazing on all the unfamiliar faces sitting on logs or picnic tables surrounding the growing fire. 

Her eyes stopped on what seemed to be a couple, the girl was beautiful, her long black hair was tied up into a neat ponytail, she was talking to a man in a wheelchair beside her, who looked like he could be her dad, her eyes shifted to the man sitting next her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, he was in shorts and a shirt and looked perfectly comfortable in the frigid air, he was joking around with the boys next to him, as if the beautiful girl next to him was really there, despite his arm around her, “Thats Paul Lahote.” Josie said from next to her, causing her to flush from her obvious staring, he looked in their direction, as if he had heard Josie say his name, they locked eyes for a split second before Tallulah looked away embarrassed she had been caught. “Don’t worry, Lenna stares at him too,” Josie laughed jokingly, “I wasn’t staring” Tallulah spoke defensively, Josie raised her hands in surrender before leaning in close, “looks like he's the one staring now” Josie grinned, watching as Tallulah looked back at the older boy, noticing that he was staring at her, almost like a deer in headlights. He looked so familiar, though she doubts that they have ever met before. He smiles at her slightly, his arm retracting from the girl beside him despite her protest to his movement, and now the beautiful women is also looking at her, causing Tallulah to look down at her sleeve covered hands that lay in her lap, only looking up again when her father sits in the spot next to her, asking if she's alright, to which she absentmindedly nods her head. Is she alright after her entire life has been altered in the last 12 hours? What kind of question is that?

Her eyes are drawn back to the spot Paul Lahote was sitting in, or had been sitting in, the seat was now vacant, the man nowhere in her line of sight, and she can't help but feel a little disappointed.

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || vi

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be

warnings: f!reader, depictions of implied social anxiety 

wc: 5.3k

m.list | ch. 5 ↞ ch. 6↠ ch. 7

The restaurant was tacky, but it was enough to remind you of home – even if it was in the most cliché ways possible. All of the cultural ‘nods’ are cheesy as a tourist trap, but Iwaizumi had told you that it was run by a family of Japanese migrants. Apparently, the food made that obvious.

“What do you recommend?” You asked, peering closely at the menu.

It was written in both English and Japanese, much to your relief. Most of the dishes offered seem like staples, too; you could grab most of these at some little outlet near your home in Miyagi.

“The rice bowls are pretty good,” Iwaizumi said.

“Should I get one with karaage or vegetable tempura?”

“You prefer karaage, right?”

You blinked at him for a moment. He remembers that?

“Both are good,” he shrugged, as if he hadn’t just made your heart jump.

“What are you gonna get?” You asked.

“Probably just some agedashi tofu and then an oyakodon.”

“Ah,” you nodded. You remembered that he’d shown a fondness for both dishes several years ago. Some things didn’t change.

Another silence fell over you. You wanted to say more, to think of something interesting to say. But nothing came to mind.

“Ah, Iwaizumi!”

You looked towards the source of the voice.

The owner was a cute girl with long black hair tied up in a ponytail, with bright and an apron wrapped around her waist.  

Iwaizumi turned to smile at her. “Hi.”

“How’ve you been?” She asked in perfect Japanese.

“Good,” he nodded. “Just trying to get ready for uni.”

“Of course, of course…” She hummed. “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah.” He turned to nod in your direction. “This is my new roommate.”

You blushed, giving the waitress a little wave as he introduced you.

She turned to you and beamed, giving you a little nod in return. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“You too,” you smiled.

The waitress fished a notebook and a pen out of the front pocket of her apron, turning back to Iwaizumi. “The usual, I presume?”

“Mhm,” he chuckled.

“And what would you like?” She asked, turning to you.

“I’d like a karaage rice bowl, thank you.”

“Perfect,” the waitress beamed once more. “I’ll let Youta know right now.”

With that she hurried off in a flurry, making a beeline straight for the kitchen.

Once you were sure she was safely out if earshot, you turned to Iwaizumi.

“How often do you come here?” You teased. You couldn’t help it.

“More than I should,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “My wallet doesn’t thank me for it.”

You smiled, folding your hands in your lap.

“It reminds me of home,” he said quietly.

You didn’t know what to say to that. It’s a vulnerable statement, one that caught you off-guard. You felt like there was more to it, more woven between those words. Should you respond to what you thought was unsaid? Or to the simple statement he’d said out-loud?

You never knew what to do when it came to Iwaizumi.

“I’m glad you found it,” is what you settled on, your voice soft against the din of the restaurant. You meant it.

Iwaizumi smiled at you. “Me too.”

He was making an effort. A real, genuine effort to make this as smooth as possible.

And you were trying to return that energy, to help the two of you make this unfortunate arrangement work. But you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps this strange energy would hang over the two of you for the rest of the semester, until you found someone to escape with.

But God, was it hard.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Thanks for this,” you blushed, digging your hands into the fabric of the skirt.

“No problem,” Iwaizumi smiled.

Fall was in full swing as the two of you drove down the street, the air temperate enough as you made your way towards university. Iwaizumi had told you it wasn’t long until it got quite chilly.

“What class have you got?” He asked.

“Uh… PSYCH 9A,” you said. You were stuck firmly between excitement and dread, the conflicting emotions grappling for space in your heart. All your classes would be in English and while you certainly weren’t bad at it – you’d been one of the best in your grade – you knew that what was taught in a classroom was very different to what was actually used in practice.

“I did that last year,” he said.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I did it as one of my general education courses.”

“Right,” you replied. The world flew by your window, a flurry of brown and green and beige. There was a lot to think about; too much, in your opinion. It was hard not to get caught up in all your anxieties, letting them eat away at you like a pack of rats.

“You worried?” Iwaizumi’s voice was far more understanding than it had any right to be.

You sighed, looking at the bag plopped between your feet. “I’m scared I won’t be able to keep up.”

He nodded. “That’s understandable.”

You pressed your lips together, frowning. “If I fall behind in the first week, then…”

“You’ll pick it up quicker than you’d expect,” he smiled, “I promise.”

Most of your conversations over the past few days had been in English, per your request. Iwaizumi had complied. You were jealous of just how comfortable he seemed speaking the language. But the upside was that it’d only been a year for him. If he was already this good, then perhaps you could be, too.

“If you need help, just ask,” he said. He’d been saying that a lot recently.

You bit your lip, your gaze still turned towards the floor.

You couldn’t deny that he had, in fact, been exceptional. Anything you needed, he provided. Any question you had, he answered.

He’d helped you find your way around, showed you the best (and cheapest) places to hang out at, recommended the best dictionary apps, and he’d made you dinner every night.

He was looking after you. Well.

Perhaps that was why Tooru had been so keen on the idea of the two of you living together. If only he knew…

The car slowed to a stop. You jumped, too lost in your own thoughts to realise what was going on. Your head flew up, looking around like a meerkat.

Iwaizumi unbuckled himself and got out of the car, leaving you alone. You leant down and grabbed your bag, placing it in your lap.

Deep breath, you thought. You can do this.

Your door opened.

Iwaizumi was holding it open for you. Of course he was.

Part of you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d laid out a bloody carpet for you so you didn’t have to worry about the dirt.

You gave him a little nod of thanks as you got out of the car and slung your bag over your shoulder.

Oh. Oh.

“Well, this is it,” he said, gesturing to the cluster of buildings that laid before you.

It looked so clean, a concrete forest of russet. And it was so big. So ludicrously big.

How many people were here? How many people could fit on this campus? How easy was it to get lost? Just how many classrooms were there?

Seijoh had felt big to you, once. Now it seemed like just a blip.

“Where’s your class?” Iwaizumi asked, closing the door.

“Uh…” You fished your phone out of your pocket, showing him your timetable.

He looked at it for a moment before nodding. “Follow me.”

You scurried after him, trying to take stock of your surroundings as best you could. It was all so different – so big, so official, so… grown-up. This was certainly a place you could get lost in; would you even see most of it in the next four years? That seemed impossible.  

Iwaizumi walked slowly, letting you take your time. You said nothing as you ambled on, your mind racing. What did the inside of all these buildings look like? Which ones would your classes be in? What sorts of people would be in your classes? Would you make friends? Would you get a boyfriend?

“Hey.” Iwaizumi’s voice had that gentle firmness it always had when he was scolding Tooru.

“Hm?” You looked at him, a little confused.

“We’re here,” he nodded towards a big building to your left. You weren’t sure if you would’ve been able to distinguish it yourself if you’d been left to your own bearings.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him. “You really didn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “I remember being intimidated by campus when I first came here. It’s easy to get lost, especially when you’re not fluent in English.”

That much was true. You were speaking to each other in Japanese, after all.

“Right…” You nodded.

“Good luck,” he nodded in return, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a small bow. It doesn’t feel like enough of the thanks for the last week.

Iwaizumi shook his head. “You don’t have to do that here.”

You straightened up and blinked at him. “Right.”

“Will you be able to get back alright?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said, with a little too much confidence. In all honesty, you have no idea if you could – something to do with buses, probably.

You couldn’t keep relying on Iwaizumi like this. It’s not that you’re humiliated, per se, but more that you didn’t want to be a burden.

You could do this. You could grab this new life of yours by the throat and take control.

But you also couldn’t ignore the hammering in your chest as you took your first steps into your undergraduate career.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Sorry about this,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek as you slipped into the passenger’s seat.

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi said, offering you a warm smile. Somehow he even managed to make the interior lighting of his car seem flattering.

You’d managed to make your way home on public transport well enough for the first few days, but all of your classes had finished before three in the afternoon.

Tonight’s class finished at six. The idea of trying to navigate your way back to the apartment had been more nerve-wracking than you could bear.

Your first instinct had been to call Iwaizumi.

A small irritation scratched at the back of your mind. It felt independence had just been in reach, tantalisingly close. But all of that bravery had ended up being an illusion. That’s how you felt, at least.

You bit back a sigh, gazing out the window.

The streetlights cast a warm glow on the pavement as a few students ambled along, rapt in conversation. Occasionally, their faces would light up with laughter – a cruel yet unintentional reminder that your own social life had been dead on arrival.

But you’re happy for these people, at least; loneliness was probably the hardest burden you’d had to bear so far. And you were living with the Iwaizumi Hajime.  

“How was your first week?” He asked.

“I’m doing okay,” you admitted. “Sometimes I don’t get what they’re saying, but… the lecture slides make it easier to follow along.” It got a little easier with each class, but you had the suspicion that it would take a while for you to properly adapt.

“Are your lecturers nice?”

You nodded. “Thankfully.”

“Good,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “And your classmates?”

You shook your head. “I haven’t spoken to any of them. Too scared.”

“Ah…” He was silent for a moment, seemingly turning something over in his head.

“What about you?” You asked, desperate to shift the attention away from your failed social life.

“It’s going well,” he nodded. “I’ve been able to get into the rhythm of it pretty quickly.”

“Good,” you smiled.

It’s understandable enough. He’d had a year to get used to the whole university thing.

How long was it going to take you? Were you ever going to get used to it? Or had this whole move been a big mistake, a risk you shouldn’t’ve taken just to prove you could do it?

You looked up at the sky. The stars weren’t as clear or bright as they were in Miyagi. You always looked up when you and Tooru walked home of an evening, after those long practice sessions he insisted on doing. Or when you and Amaya walked to either of your houses for a sleepover as she pointed at different constellations and told you the stories behind them.

Home felt so far away.

Would you ever feel like you belonged here?

“Hey,” Iwaizumi murmured.

“Hm?”

“Is it okay if I have some friends over tomorrow?”

Your stomach twisted. You weren’t sure why.

People you didn’t know in your house… It felt silly, finding it so scary.

But you weren’t going to deny him his social life.

“Sure,” you answered.

“Cool,” he breathed. He sounded genuinely relieved.

You bit the inside of your cheek. You were sure he was asking to be polite, but the guilt had already seeded itself in your mind. Did he really feel like he couldn’t have people over because you were there? Granted, it’d only been a week. Maybe he thought you weren’t quite settled yet.

God, why’d he have to go and be so considerate? He really was setting the standard too high.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” He asked.

“I’m fine with anything,” you shrugged.

The least you could do in return for all the help he’d given you was be a respectful roommate.

✧ ✧ ✧

The sound of people engaging in conversation outside your room made your stomach swell.

A few hours ago, Iwaizumi had asked you if you’d like to introduce yourself to his friends. You’d agreed – it would probably do you some good to actually meet some people. He’d said they were all Japanese exchange students themselves, so communication shouldn’t be a problem.

Although, that didn’t make it any less stressful.

You took a deep breath, reaching for your door handle.

You could do this. You just needed to get over the awkward introduction.

The sound of laughter heightened as you pushed your door open, allowing yourself to catch sight of the small group gathered in the living room.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi waved at you, smile on his face and beer in hand.

“Hey,” you said quietly, holding a hand up in greeting.

His friends turned to look at you. You recognized some of the faces from the photos on the wall. Three guys, two girls.

“Hello!” One of the girls called out to you with a wave.

You nodded at her with a smile, taking a few tentative steps towards the group.

“This is Ren,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to a guy with wavy black hair and bright eyes. He’s far too pretty to meet without a warning.

“Taiki,” Iwaizumi gestured to the boy standing to the left of Ren. He had close-cropped hair and muscles that almost gave Iwaizumi some competition. Almost.

“Mei.” She had long red hair and an enviable sense of style. She looked like the sort of girl you’d be terrified of approaching in high school, simply because she was far too cool for you.

“Haruto.” The guy with the kind smile and brown hair so soft you wanted to touch it. There’s something about him that almost reminds you of Tooru – if Tooru wasn’t such a brat.

“And Yuna.” The other girl, with a brown bob and such sharp eyeliner that you couldn’t help but wonder how stable her hand must be when applying it.

You felt a little embarrassed, just standing there in your lounge clothes; thank God it’s wasn’t your pyjamas, but they’re certainly not clothes you’d wear on a fun outing somewhere.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you blushed, looking at the floor.

A chorus of ‘you too’s erupted from the group, much louder than you’d expected. You managed to supress the urge to flinch.

“What’re your plans?” You asked.

“Oh, we’ll just be playing some board games,” Ren said, waving a hand at you.

“Right,” you nodded. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting. They all had some kind of beer in hand, so you might’ve expected something a bit more… rowdy. But, you weren’t complaining.

“You should join us!” One of the girls – Yuna, was it? – smiled at you, the expression illuminating her entire face.

You considered it for a moment, each pro and con rushing through your head at lightning speed. You didn’t want to be rude, and it would be nice to spend some time with people other than Iwaizumi…

But they were his friends. Wouldn’t you be intruding? You didn’t want to just barge in and expect to be included just because you happened to live with him.

Yet at the same time, Yuna was smiling at you so kindly. Turning her down would feel rude.

“Sure,” you nodded.

Yuna ushered you over towards the couches, sitting you down next to her. Mei sat on your other side, offering you an unbearably pretty smile.

“What’re you doing?” You asked.

“It’s this card game,” Haruto explained, “each card has a symbol on it, see?” He held two cards up for you to see. Sure enough, both cards had a yellow diamond on them.

You nodded.

“So, they each have a category on them,” he said. You looked between both cards. It took you a moment as they were English words, but one said ‘film’ and the other said ‘animal.’

“Mhm.”

“Now all the cards are placed in a deck in the middle, and on your turn, you take a card and place it face up. If the symbol matches another card on the table, then you need to call out a word that belongs in the category of the other card,” he explained.

You nodded slowly. “So… if I had the animal card and you had the film card, I’d need to call out a film?”

“Exactly right,” he smiled.

“You’ll pick it up as you go along,” Iwaizumi reassured.

“Do I have to say it in English?” You asked.

Haruto shook his head. “You can say something in English or Japanese. No stress.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Alright, is everyone ready?” Taiki barked. “I wanna start!”

Suffice to say you didn’t do particularly well for the first few rounds.

It took you a little longer than everyone else to translate the English to Japanese, but you did manage to secure a few wins. Although, that was mainly won off the backs of other people’s mistakes – Taiki, for example, yelled out ‘plant’ for the category of ‘vegetable’.

After the second round, you got up and headed to the kitchen, intent on getting yourself a drink of water.

You opened the fridge door as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb your guests. You grabbed the water jug, grimacing at how heavy it was.

When you closed it, Iwaizumi was standing right there.

“Fuck!” You jumped, a hand flying to your chest.

“Sorry,” he grinned. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You glared at him for a second, only to give up as soon as your wrist started to ache.

“Are you doing alright?” He asked as you plunked the jug on the countertop.

“Yeah,” you nodded, opening one of your cupboards and grabbing a cup. “Yuna’s really nice.”

“Okay, good,” he smiled. From the look on his face, you guessed that he was relieved. “Don’t feel pressured to stay out here,” he said.

“It’s okay, really,” you shook your head, pouring some water into your glass. Some splashed onto the counter despite your best efforts – and you didn’t even have the excuse of being tipsy.

Iwaizumi nodded slowly, still smiling at you. His cheeks were a bit flushed; a key indicator that he was likely a handful of drinks away from ‘well and truly drunk.’

You held the water out to him instinctively. He took it from you, only for confusion to blossom across his face.

“Huh?”

“You should probably drink some,” you said, rather lost yourself. “So you don’t get a hangover.”

“Oh,” he swallowed. “Right.”

He brought the cup to his lips and tipped it back. You busied yourself with getting another glass – there was no way you were just going to stand there and watch him drink. God knew where your mind might go, and you didn’t like it.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Iwaizumi said, placing the now-empty cup back on the counter.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

Once you’d finally gotten your own cup of water (that you hadn’t handed to Iwaizumi for no good reason), you scampered back to the couch and settled down in your spot between Yuna and Mei.

They’d swapped the first card game out for another – the rules were that one person had a card with a word on it, and they had to try and explain it without using said word.

They cycled through a fair few games, burning through casket of beer after casket of beer. The hours burned on faster than you could keep track, but you didn’t mind. You were laughing too much to care.

“Oh, shit,” Iwaizumi mumbled, staring at his phone.

“Hm?” Taiki sniffed. His face was bright red, but he didn’t seem to care. “Is it Misaki?”

Iwaizumi nudged him with his knee as he grumbled something under his breath. Whether you liked it or not, the name Misaki was lodged firmly in the back of your brain.

“I was gonna say it’s three in the morning,” Iwaizumi grunted.

“Oh,” Yuna gasped, whipping out her own phone. “Fuck.”

“Do buses even run this late?” Mei grimaced.

“I have no idea,” Yuna bit her lip, her brow creasing.

“You guys can crash here if you want,” Iwaizumi offered.

“All of us?” Mei raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why not?” He asked.

“I don’t know about Yuna, but I don’t want to be snuggled up against any of these fools,” Mei grimaced, waving a hand at the three guys.

“What do you mean?” Ren whined.

“There’s only so much room on these couches,” Mei shrugged.

“I guess we can sleep on the floor,” Haruto mumbled.

“I’ve been told you snore,” Mei said.

“And?”

“I’m a light sleeper.”

Haruto scoffed. “How do you even know whether or not I snore?”

“Well, Maka—”

“Alright,” Haruto held his hands up, shaking his head.

An idea brewed in the back of your mind. It’s not a perfect solution, but it could certainly save any of them an early morning trek back to their own apartments.

You took a deep breath, trying to build up the confidence to speak up.

“The girls can stay in my room, if they’d like,” you said quietly.

Every head turned to face you. Yikes.

“Are you sure?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Mhm!” You nodded, trying to look as enthusiastic as possible. “I don’t mind. And I can promise you I don’t snore,” you said, turning to Mei.

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re an angel.”

You beamed at that little affirmation.

“I owe you one,” Iwaizumi grinned, ruffling your hair fondly. Your cheeks bloomed red; although, that didn’t really stand out amongst this bunch.

You nodded at him, turning on your tail and fleeing to your room.

The girls were already in there, inspecting the wall above your desk. You’d stuck some photos up the other day on a whim; a bunch of polaroids and four-by-sixes arranged in something that resembled a neat collage.

“These are so cute,” Yuna cooed, turning to pout at you.

“Thanks,” you giggled.

“Look at you!” She whined, pointing at a picture of your graduation. Amaya and another one of your friends stand either side of you, your smiles bright and brilliant as you each cradled a bouquet of flowers. It might only have been a few months ago, but you felt like you looked far younger.

“You’re adorable,” Mei pouted.

It felt a bit weird, having people you barely knew in your space like this. But this was at least an echo of the college experience, right? Two drunk girls calling you cute while you were strikingly sober… Sounded about right.

It kind of reminded you of all those sleepovers during your school years. There’s something comforting in that.

Yuna suddenly froze.

“Everything alright?” You asked, tensing up yourself.

“Who is that?” She hissed, pointing at a new photo.

You stepped forward to get a better look at who she was talking about.

Oh. Tooru.

It’s a photo you’d taken with him last winter, when he’d come back to Japan for a week. By that time, he’d gotten quite tanned, and he’d really bulked up. Whatever he was doing in Argentina, it was paying off. Although, you could do without his bragging.

“That’s my brother,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. You didn’t mean any ill will; you were just quite used to girls asking you about your brother. Usually, you just told them they could do much better.

Yuna gaped at you. “Your brother?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “He’s currently in Argentina.” You didn’t really know what else to say.

“That’s not that far away,” Mei mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’s still like… a twenty-hour flight away,” you giggled.

“But it’s closer than Japan,” Mei tsked.

“If your brother ever comes to visit,” Yuna said calmly, “let us know.”

You were about to respond when Yuna gasped loudly.

“Is that Hajime?” She hissed, pointing at another photo.

It’s one from Tooru’s graduation, this time. It’s also the only photo of Iwaizumi on your wall. Makki and Mattsun are also in it, grinning brilliantly as they held Tooru in a headlock. You were at the side, laughing at your brother, as Iwaizumi watched the scene fondly.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “He’s best friends with my brother.”

“Aw, that’s so cute,” Mei cooed. “Why didn’t he ever tell us that his best friend looked like that?”

“You never looked at the photos out in the living room?” You asked.

“Oh,” Mei blinked. “Well, it looks like a bunch of men from far away, so I wasn’t interested.”

“I didn’t even realise there were photos in the front room,” Yuna mumbled.  

You giggled again, shaking your head. You had no idea how you were going to get these two to settle and go to bed, but you’re pretty sure you don’t regret letting them stay here.

This was the most fun you’d had ever since you landed in California.

✧ ✧ ✧

You’d balked when Iwaizumi had first promised to ‘teach you’ how to go grocery shopping.

But standing in the middle of the Asian Grocer, surrounded by more cuts of meat than you could ever conceive, you realised that it was wise to listen to what he had to say.

You’d spent an absurd amount of time going through each isle as Iwaizumi pointed out the bargains – many of which had to do with bulk buying – and discussing what the cheapest version of each item was, and when it was best to sacrifice cost for quality.  

“Oh, by the way,” he said, interrupting your intense observation of the swath of shaved pork staring at you from the freezer.

You turned to look at him expectantly.

“I didn’t say thanks for letting Yuna and Mei stay in your room.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry for putting that on you,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect everyone to stay so late.”

“I said it’s fine,” you chuckled. “I offered. And I wouldn’t have felt good about them all heading home that early in the morning.”

Iwaizumi smiled at you softly for a moment.

You swallowed, turning back to the meat. “They seem nice,” you said. You weren’t sure what else you were supposed to say.

Iwaizumi nodded. “Yeah. Taiki can be a brat though.”

“More or less of a brat than Tooru?” You grinned.

“Oh, less,” Iwaizumi answered immediately.

You giggled, opening the freezer and grabbing a random Styrofoam pallet of meat. You’d spent far too long in this section; long enough that you were getting cold.

“Where’d you meet them?” You asked, putting the pallet in the basket slung over Iwaizumi’s forearm.

“Uh, Taiki’s from the gym. The others are from the Japanese Students Association.”

Your ears perked up at that. “The Japanese Students Association?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s where I met most of my friends, actually.”

“Really?”

“It’s much easier than making friends in your classes,” he smiled.

You chewed on your cheek for a moment. Admittedly, the whole ‘making friends in class’ plan wasn’t going well for you. There was hardly any time to properly socialise, and you never knew when it was okay to strike up a conversation. Maybe if you were still in Japan, you’d have an easier time navigating this torrid new social landscape.

But you just didn’t know what was considered rude or weird or even creepy here.

“You should join,” he suggested. When you caught his eye, he was already looking at you, a touch of concern on his brow.

“You think?”

“It’s a good way of getting to know people,” he shrugged. “I joined when I felt lonely last year.”

The words hit you harder than you thought they would. “I’m sorry,” you frowned.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. “Anyway, they’re having a party soon.”

“Are they?”

He nodded. “To ‘kick off’ the semester or something. It’s really just an excuse to get shit-faced.”

You laughed. “Really?”

“That’s what all uni parties are for,” he grinned.

You considered it for a moment.

A party… you’d never really been to one before. Not an Americanised party, anyway. Not one where everyone got absurdly drunk.

Alone, surrounded by unfamiliar drunk people, in a city you don’t know…

Your stomach lurched.

You wanted to be brave. You wanted to put yourself out there. But the thought did nothing but make your skin crawl. Maybe you were just being paranoid, but it sounded dangerous.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi asked.

You blinked up at him. “Oh, yeah, I…” You turned your attention to the floor. “I just don’t think I’ll go.”

“Why not?”

“I think I’d just feel…” You paused for a moment, trying to think of the mildest way to say what you were feeling. “I think I’d feel a little uncomfortable.”

You braved a glance at him.

He was pressing his lips together, a thoughtful frown on his face.

A knot of guilt twisted in your stomach. You were making him worry again. That’s all you seemed to have done since you’d been here. You knew he’d offered to live with you, but it’s like you’ve been nothing but a burden ever since you’d arrived.

And you hated that more than anything. You hated making him worry. You hated giving him reason for concern. All because you couldn’t go to a stupid party on your own.

“I could come with you, if you’d like.”

His offer surprised you.

Maybe you should’ve expected him to say something like that. And usually, the thought of going to a party with him would make you feel like you wanted to throw up.

But you’d survived the past few weeks. And Iwaizumi looked like that. No weird asshole was going to try and approach you or make you feel uncomfortable if he was standing next to you.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you said sheepishly.

Iwaizumi smiled, shaking his head. “Not at all.”

[bump1nthen1ght]

Waltz of the Vampire (Vampire x Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Fat!Reader/Fem!Vampire

Genre: Fantasy (Vaguely Historical/Renaissance)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3469 words

Summary: You forcibly attend the ball of the rich family that has just moved to town, unexpectedly finding comfort with one of their daughters.

Request: Hey!! I love your writing a lot! Would you consider an elf or a vampire whatever suits your fancy with a fat fem!reader. I try hard not to hate my body but it can be really hard sometimes and I know a lot of people go through it not just plus size folks but... idk it’s my weakness and a huge comfort. Anyway I hope you have a awesome day!!!

A/N: I really loved writing this request, and after I finish Thicker than Water, I might make a part two.

Serena has been to a lot of parties. Too many, in her opinion, even over her 326-year span of life. Her matriarch, “Mother” as she is called by her and the coven, believes there is no such thing.

Every move they make is celebrated by a grand ball, invitations sent out to every available person. Mother claims it’s the best way for them to fit in, to hide in the crowd rather than the shadows.

Serena understands this, she’s seen it work wonder for their reputation time and time again, but she still does not like them.

Tonight is especially dreadful, a bad hunt the day before and a quick spat with her “brother” enough to sour the whole get together. Serena spends most of the night eluding suitors and dance partners, embracing a mysterious persona so she can enjoy some alone-time.

As she looks around at the dance floor, Serena concludes that she is not a fan of the new fashion statements of this era. A bit too strict, too formal, with precise lacings and starchy hoop skirts. It makes the dance floor too stuffy in her opinion, no room to twirl your fabric or move your limbs.

She sips on her special red wine, eye’s lazily perusing the hall for her siblings, hoping to gain some company, when she spots you. Selena is brought to a pause, mid-drink, as your embroidered skirt glimmers, catching the light as you twirl it across the room. Her eyes widen, determination peaked when she notices you don’t have a partner.

How beautiful.

----------

Oooh, I love this song.

You hum, unconsciously bouncing from side to side as your favorite piano piece begins to play. It’s a piece you have on your list to learn in the future, bubbly and cheerful with a bumpy melody and the option for a fun violin accompaniment.

The energy of the music quickly translates to the dance floor, where couple’s begin to giggle and improvise amidst the strict waltz and counted-steps. It’s a shame that it’s such a good piece because for the first time of the night, you really wish someone would ask you to dance.

When the news the MacArthur’s were throwing a huge welcoming ball had reached your household, your mother quickly began throwing together preparations for you to attend. You had sighed, set your feet in a preemptive ice bath, and ready for another boring night.

As a former socialite herself, from girlhood you were forced to attend party after party. While it had done as intended and transformed your sister into a perfect lady, it had the opposite effect on you. The stiffness of the hoop skirts, the suits, and all the damn people always stuffed up your throat and flushed your face. With your sister as the shining star, it was easy for you to slip into the shadows, and avoid the preening of your mother’s etiquette lessons.

Now, as a growing woman with more and more free-time, you used all of your abilities to avoid huge social gatherings. You found your place amongst small gatherings with local friends, sneaking wine from the cellar and telling stories in the freezing cold around a fire

But as the music increases it’s tempo, with flourishing skirts and plenty of laughter, you can’t help but lose yourself in the joviality of the gathering. The fancy dresses, the even fancier alcohol, and the decadent ballroom had you wondering if you had been missing out a bit.

If only Margaret and Min-Young were here, now that would be a party.

You giggle into your champagne, heels still tapping against the hardwood and hand slightly tossing your skirt back and forth. You easily fall back into your reclusive corner to avoid embarrassing eyes who may glance upon your solitude. But a tiny yelp escapes you when your heel accidentally digs into a foot. You whip around, faced already flushed red with embarrassment.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t look where...I was…”

Behind you, dressed in a dark purple satin gown, is Serena Macarthur herself. She stands a solid two heads above you, hair done up in an immaculate up do and two shimmering ruby earrings dangling from her ears. Her face is serene, lips curled up in a bit of a smirk. You quickly jerk away and give a half-decent curtsy, noticing her beautiful black dancing shoes which you just stomped on. “I apologize, Miss Macarthur, I can’t believe I acted so foolishly. I didn’t realize-”

“Oh, there is no need to worry darling. I’m alright, no harm done.” She says, her voice low and musical, almost like a thrumming bass line. Her gloved hand is placed on your shoulder, the other slides up your neck and tilts up your chin to meet her eye line.

My god, she is stunning.

Her eyes are a color you’ve never seen before, not dissimilar to the sharp gemstones in her earrings. Serena’s makeup, simple yet sharp, does everything to accentuate the cardinal-red of her irises. You can feel the simmering blush heating up your skin as she continues to stare. “I was actually coming this way to speak to you, flower. It’s my fault really, for sneaking up on you.”

You shake your hands, nearly spilling over the champagne in your glass. “Oh no, it’s no problem. Like you said, no harm done”. You force a giggle, hastily taking a sip of your champagne. “May I ask what you wished to speak of?”

Serena smiles, a smirk which is just as sharp as the rest of her, though her eyes betray no slyness or ill-will. “I was going to enquire about your dress. I noticed it from across the room and was stunned by how enchanting it is.”

“Oh! Well, thank you very much.” You blush, unconsciously rubbing your finger over the embroidered flowers on the skirt. “I actually-”

“Whoops!”

In less than a second, you find yourself right next to Serena, as a drunk dancer trips and spills his drink all over the floor. You blink, brain not even fully processing what just happened, as you notice Serena’s arm on your elbow and the red wine splattered where you stood just moments ago.

Did she move me? But when-how did she-

“Sorry! Sorry about that.” The man slurs, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. His partner, a distressed young woman, grabs his elbow and forces him to stand straight. “Guess I’ve had too much.” His embarrassed partner chokes out a laugh as he continues to sway.

“Yes, it seems you have. Make sure to fix that, soon.”

Serena’s tone is barely above talking volume, but holds a command like a powerful shout, Both of the dancers jerk with surprise, furiously bowing as the female drags the man out of the hall.

Serena sighs, rubbing her forehead with exasperation. She turns toward you, smiles back on her face.

“Would you like to take this to the garden? Seems the party is getting a bit too rowdy for good conversation.”

You nod, still a bit befuddled by Serena’s quick mood change and even quicker reflexes. But you link elbows when she holds hers up in invitation nonetheless, following her outside.

---------

The Macarthur estate is beautiful, as expected, and the garden fits that image to a T. Even in the moonlight you can see the finely cultivated roses bushes which decorate it, along with the gleaming marble fountain and sitting space under an ornately decorated gazebo. The two of your heels click along the paved path as you walk towards the center, your half-empty drink still in hand.

“You were sadly interrupted, but you were mentioning something about the dress?”

You nod, taking another long sip of your champagne, hoping a little alcohol may temper your thoughts.

“Yes, I was just going to say that I made it myself.” Serena’s eyes grow wide, eyes darting up and down your attire, and you feel yourself fluster. “It’s a tradition in my family, you see. My great-great-grandmother was very diligent when it came to teaching her kids how to sew, even the boys, and it became such an insisted upon skill that all her children ended up making their own evening clothing for special occasions. It ended up filtering down that every child makes one special outfit themselves, for what occasion it doesn’t particularly matter, but something thatt is uniquely you.” You pull up the end of your skirt, pointing out the flower pattern. “I’ve always had a fondness for gardening, so I tried to incorporate that into my dress. Plus,” You smooth out your skirt, “Most party dresses I’ve found are a bit too restrictive for my tastes, I wanted something I could really get into some fun with, y’know?” You force a giggle, immediately wondering if that comment was a bit too salacious for high-society talk. Serena simply smirks, letting out a low chuckle of her own.

“I wholeheartedly agree. May I take a closer look?” She gestures to your skirt and you hastily nod. The two of you take a seat by the fountain, Serena’s glove accidentally brushing against your calf as she picks up your skirt. You try and control your shiver from the simple contact. She hums admirably as she runs along your work. “Such incredibly done Sunflowers, the detail you put in is astounding. And these are forget-me-nots, correct?”

“Oh yes, those are my favorite kind.” Serena’s hands continue to run along the linework, following the bumps and dips of each flower petal. “As you can see I had trouble with the lavender, what with the petals being so small.” Serena shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. She looks up at you, forcing you to hastily act as if you weren’t admiring her face.

“The work you put in makes them twice as beautiful, mistakes be damned.” You blush even harder, throwing your hand and taking a final sip of your champagne.

“Thank you very much, but I have a long way to go.”

Serena’s hand hasn’t left your skirt, now resting on her lap as she continues to look at you. You swallow the last droplets of champagne down your throat, trying to fill the silence.

“The band is incredible, did you hire them locally?” You stutter, setting down your glass. Serena continues to fiddle with your skirt.

“Some of them, yes, but the violinist is actually my older sister, Marigold.”

“Wow! Make sure to give her my compliments, she’s very talented.” Serena nods, before her eyes dart down your toes. As the music echoes out of the hall and into the garden, you had unconsciously begun to tap your toes to the beat. When she glances at you, she can see your head slightly bobbing, a content look painting your face. A small smile forces one on to hers.

How cute. She internally sighs, noting how soft the skin of your cheek looks, the nice curve of your jaw, and your adorable noise. The pulsing blood which would run down your throat, the crimson looking devine against your exposed collarbone and dripping below your breast line.

She stands up abruptly, forcing those evocative thoughts out of her mind. You were quite cute and good company, someone Serena would like to get to know. Sometimes the crossed wires of her brain confused attraction for bloodlust, mistaking the butterflies for hunger pains.. She is almost embarrassed; It was one of the common hurdles new vampires had to overcome, a bridge she thought she crossed years ago

You startle, looking up at her with innocent doe eyes. Serena holds out her hand, ignoring how she can hear your steady pulse, unintentionally matching the beat of the music.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” She almost whispers, bowing slightly.

Your face flushes, nodding without a word, and slipping your bare hand into her glove.

Serena boldly grabs your hip and presses you against her, quickly taking the lead. Your brain fervently recalls all of your formal dancing lessons, pressing your head into her chest as she takes you along.

In her arms, following her perfected steps, that slithering self-consciousness sneaks back into your brain. Your logic tries to reason with it;

You wanted to dance, but now that this beautiful woman has gladly offered her hand, you want to stop?

But your insecurities are louder, screaming about every trip and every spare touch. This close, you can feel her firm musculature through the dress, spotting the hint of her bicep as she leads you. With her dainty and elegant hand on your side, you feel twice aware of your size underneath, every imperfection concealed by your dress.

You had fallen in love with this dress when making it, but had always been hesitant to wear it. You feared that once you put it on, that beautiful picture in your mind would shatter, leaving you forlorned of what could never be. Not with you wearing it, you had thought, avoiding your own mirror as you left.

“Something on your mind, flower?”

Serena whispers into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Your back jerks and contorts back into position, almost stepping your foot on hers. You shake your head furiously.

“Oh no! I-I just-” You stumble, trying to find an easy excuse, but are stopped when you take a look at her face.

She’s resplendent, even up close, not a hint of makeup to be seen. But across her cheeks, slightly faded from what looks like years away from the sun, are-

“My, you have such wonderful freckles.” You murmur, without a second thought.

Unbeknownst to you, if Serena could blush, she would. But the scrunched up look of embarrassment is telling, hinting that maybe this beautiful heiress has her own things she hides away.

“W-well, thank you.” She hastily utters, eyes averting from yours. It’s uncharacteristically shy and you can’t control the giggle that escapes you.

To give her some reprieve, you take your eyes off her face and trail them around the garden. They catch on the fountain, where the contrasting colors of your dresses stand out amidst the black. In the reflection, the two of you could not look more different. Serena stands a head above you, slim-fitted dark purple dress pulled across her curves, while your bright green dress cinches at the waist, flowing out like the flower's detailed skirt. It blows and beckons with every movement, brushing occasionally against your form and showing off the contours of your body.

Damn, you think, we look hot.

Just as fickle as it’s counterpoint, confidence quickly overtakes your mind, blocking out the noise of your doubt. You hold tight to your beautiful partner, in the beautiful dress that you made, and allow the happiness of this moment to exist uninterrupted, however short it may be.

The music increases its pace, the smooth line of a saxophone bringing up the energy. With a new burst of energy, you allow yourself to improvise amidst the  strict waltz. You lift your weight off your heels and try to glide from step to step, like the fast-paced tango dancers your mother once took you to see. Serena matches your enthusiasm, gripping your waist, even lifting you a few inches off the ground when a particular chord strikes. Her fingers slightly tickle your ribs, an ecstatic giggle escaping you and you falter a misstep. Your mind almost stops, embarrassed by your stumble and that insecurity sneaking back in, but Serena follows your new tempo with grace, urging you along with improvisation.

Your bodies follow the music with abandon, ordered steps devolving into impassioned stamps and twists, Serena twirling you around as the violin and piano sing from afar. Your heart and mind are running on adrenaline. It’s like when you were little, letting out your energy in any way possible. Serena’s laughter is magical and for once you don’t detest your awkward snorts and chuckles.

As the music slows, the two of you near-tumble back into the fountain, taking a seat with heaving chests.

“Whew, I haven’t danced like that in a while!” You say, brushing a stray hair back behind your ear. Serena nods, patting her stomach as she continues to laugh.

“Me as well. I forgot how fun it could be, when you’re not counting your steps.”

“Oh good, you do that too. I always wondered how no one got dreadfully bored just saying 1-2-3 over and over.” You mutter, taking in a deep breath and patting her thigh. Your other hand drifts down to the fountain water, letting your fingertips brush across the top and inadvertently catching your reflection once more.

It’s not the most flattering angle, your shoulders slump and the water slightly distorted, and those intruding thoughts try to slip in once more.

Oh shut up, let us have this.

Your logic sighs, batting it away without another second thought.

As the two of you sit, your energy eventually begins to drift back down, your muscles slightly tired from that short burst of impact. You sneak a glance at Serena.

While her outfit is still immaculate, her updo shows the smallest signs of dishelevement, curly black hairs falling down above her ears. In a way, she’s more beautiful than ever.

“Me and some friends are actually getting together next week. The shepherd's daughter, Violet, is getting married and they are throwing a little shindig at the barn to celebrate. Do you want to come?”

Serena looks up at you, slightly surprised, face furrowed with that hidden bashfulness. But she nods nonetheless, shooting you a bright smile.

Still high off your dance, you just barely miss her large fangs, which glimmer under the moonlight.

You smile back, only startled when the large bell tower from  the center of town chimes. Your head looks towards it’s large face and back towards the moon position. You’d guess it was midnight. Seems the two of you had lost track of time while dancing.

“Well, I should probably be going.” You say, standing up and brushing off your skirt. “I do have some gardening to attend to in the morning, going to need a solid amount of sleep. But,” You say, eyes demure and locked on your toes as Serena stands up, “I had a lot of fun tonight. More than usual, I would say.” You giggle, twirling a strand of your hair. Serena hmms in agreement.

“Me as well, flower. Your company has been the highlight of my night.”

In a bold move, Serena grabs your hand and lays a kiss on the back of it. Her eyes radiate that power and certainty from before, crimson irises shining in the night. Your blush crawls its way back up your neck.

“I-I can say the same.”

The two of you stay in that position for a moment, Serena pulling away her lips but keeping a lingering hold on your hand. Your heart thrums in your chest, while hers is deathly silent. Neither of you wants to be the first to pull away.

“I-uhm.” You stumble, hand still locked in place.

Now’s as good a time as any. You suppose.

In a quick movement, your hand loosens from Serena’s grasp and you give a quick peck on her cheek. In another, you have pulled away, sprinting towards your carriage.

“I-I’ll see you Saturday!” You shout, nearly tripping over a rose bush.

Left behind in the garden stands Serena, cold hand pressed against the burning skin of her cheek. Your kiss shot through her body like a lightning strike, almost jolting her frozen-heart alight.

That night, Serena goes for a hunt. She barely takes the time to change out of her formal clothes, nearly tearing the delicate lacework of her dress. Her claws catch on her gloves and almost rip apart, her heels scuffing the floor as she kicks them off and to the side. Her undead body is thrumming with life, untapped energy that longs to get out.

Her thoughts run a mile a minute, forcibly distracted by the Grizzly bear she currently has in a choke hold. It puts up a good fight, but Serena is running off of pure bloodlust.

At least, she thinks it’s bloodlust. A deeper part of her knows it's something else; The sparking fire of something new and a little bit frightening.

The last time she was personally invited to a ball, an event, a ceremony was less than a couple months ago. When you hold a position such as hers, look like her, they are common occurrences.

But to a party? Not a politically motivated meetup, but a genuine, let your hair down, party? Well, she hadn’t been to one since she was a youngling of 150.

And for the first time in a while, she is excited.

[upslapmeal]

The Halloween Apocalypse

It’s another series which means another batch of my episode thoughts brought to you at the request of nobody, allons-y!

Yaz when Karvanista is there: >:) we’re in control Yaz when Karvanista isn’t there: >:((( 

Yaz and Thirteen riding around on that snapped gravibar like witches on brooms, perfect for a halloween ep

good old Chibbers BIG TEXT

sinister digging Georgian: I think you’ll find I simply just have a bigger brain

ooh it even says flux in the title sequence

this is definitely also series 13 right? we’re not getting 11, 12, FLUX, 13?

tour guide Dan is reminding me a bit of tour guide Ruth

can’t wait for him to get to tour the universe

that skeleton man’s breathing sounds like an asthmatic pug

it appears skeleton man’s name is Swarm

“do not engage in conversation” 2 min later: engaging in conversation

oh are those two guards part of the Division that Ruth Doctor was in?

are they timelords???

ok skeleton man is now bling crystals skeleton man

and I see he is au fait with the earth tradition of trick or treating

oo er the TARDIS ain’t lookin too healthy

I like the projected circular gallifreyan display, is that new or have I just forgotten about it

Dan seems lovely, John Bishop gives him a great warmth

he feels very real, I’m enjoying his introduction

that dog reveal reminded me of I read in primary school called Muddle Earth where the cloaked villain was revealed to look like a teddy bear

these Jedi mind tricks ain’t working on Dan

lmao why haven’t we had an alien invasion on halloween before this is great

‘you don’t look anything like four bears’ pfffft

Thirteen about to wipe Dan’s laptop like she wiped Ryan’s phone

or...the laptop attempts to wipe out Thirteen

the master would be proud of that miniaturisation

surely the arctic circle should be darker at this time of year

hmm who’s the ‘they’ that promised this would never happen?

lol Karvanista’s distain for humans and then Dan is just having fun with it

oooh mysterious Claire, getting Blink Sally Sparrow vibes

I like Yaz’s concern for her

the TARDIS playing up like this kinda reminds me of Flatline

is that the chameleon circuit??

honestly this dynamic with just Yaz as a companion is already working better, and I’m enjoying her frustration at Thirteen

weeping angel! wasn’t expecting that straight in the first ep

man they still hold up as creepy

Claire if you need to blink just shut the door!!

aha this must be Vinder

aaand this must be the flux

outpost ROSE??

bling crystals shoulder pad skeleton man is back

and he has a sister! was she a chameleon-circuit memory wiped human?

‘a bone to pick’ careful with the dog jokes Doc

ooh Karvanista is Division too?

‘formerly PC Yasmin Khan’? so has she fully left then?

‘do things often go wrong?’ Dan mate you’re already kidnapped on a spaceship, let’s not ask about things getting worse

ooh more TARDIS door movement

‘I had a mate who had one of these, I think it was a bit bigger’ well that’s a reaction we’ve not had before :D

’30 trillion lightyears’ how far is that compared to where Ten and Martha went in Utopia?

oh we’re getting the sontarans in this ep too?

I’m on board with the more classic design, especially after so long of Strax being comic relief

I’m really loving the Doctor-companion dynamic between Yaz and Dan, it particularly shines when he gets that full view of the universe and Yaz guides him through it

ooh cloister bell time

‘I can feel the universe breaking’ is sort of the reverse of Nine’s speech about feeling earth move through space

bling crystals shoulder pad skeleton man is a Division Doctor enemy?? ooh this should be interesting

oh yeah I forgot about Diane but it seems bling crystals shoulder pad skeleton sister hasn’t

oh lol I’d completely forgotten about the Georgian diggers too until now

kinda feel like they and the sontarans could have done with being introduced next ep? since they haven’t really contributed anything yet plot-wise

Overall a very intriguing start! I’m enjoying the Thirteen/Yaz dynamic, Dan seems like a great addition and there’s lots (perhaps too much?) that’s been set up. I’m hoping this one continuous story plays more to Chibb’s strengths and I’m looking forward to seeing how it all fits together! And if Thirteen’s investigation of the Division means we get Ruth back at all then that would be *mwah* 10/10. Also I’m loving the northern/southern good/bad divide, should have known Karvanista would be good after all :D

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 14

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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SMUT WARNING

[Hermione]

"Is this the moment?"

Hermione vaguely registers Harry's voice, but she's too lost in kissing Ron to care. Instead, she wraps her arms more securely around his neck and smiles through the kiss when his fingers dig into her back.

"Oi! There's a hen party going on here!" Harry's voice is louder now, and he slurs his words, suggesting that his current state of mind is a bit more courageous than usual. No wonder he's so willing to interrupt their kiss.

On their own time, Ron and Hermione eventually surface. They hesitate to break eye contact, which would officially end the moment, but they're forced to look around as soon as they hear a round of applause. They glance around to see that the entirety of the wedding party is staring at them, cheering and beaming.

"Cough it up, Ginny," says Dean, jokingly shoving her shoulder.

"No! You bet they would kiss for the first time tonight," she argues. "That might not be their first kiss."

"Ask them!" says Neville..

"What if they lie?" asks Seamus. "They've been lying to us about this so far. Who's to say they won't keep it up?"

Hermione and Ron share a shocked expression and then burst into laughter.

"Did you all bet on us?" asks Ron incredulously.

"Why yes, we did," says Neville. "You two have been acting quite shifty for the last few days. How long has this been going on?"

Ron and Hermione meet each other's gaze for a silent conversation. Do they tell the truth? She tries to ask with her eyes.

Ron shrugs. "Last night," says Hermione, a blush forming on her cheeks. It's not a complete lie; it feels like the proper start of their relationship. A look at Ron nodding confirms he agrees.

"Did she say last night? Hand it over, everyone!" beams Lavender, shouldering her way into the crowd.

Ginny groans, and Lavender smiles as everyone else rummages into their pockets for cash.

"Hold on," says Ginny, holding her money just out of Lavender's reach. "You said Hermione spent the night in your room last night!"

Lavender shrugs coyly.

"Did you cover for her?"

"Maybe," she shrugs.

"So you knew?"

"I had a feeling."

"That's not fair!" says Ginny. "You had an advantage!"

"All's fair in love and war." Lavender snatches the money from Ginny's hand and saunters off, Demelza and Luna following behind her.

Ginny huffs. "I can't believe she didn't tell me." She looks at Hermione and narrows her eyes. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"You're not upset about this?" asks Hermione, gesturing between herself and Ron.

"No, I'm thrilled!" she says, launching toward Hermione and throwing her arms around her neck. "Maybe you'll be my sister-in-law one day."

Ron laughs, and Hermione's cheeks turn pink.

I already am.

"Gin, you're freaking them out. They've been together for a day."

"Right, sorry."

"Alright, the show's over, kids," says Ron. "How about we go home and hope that you're all too drunk to remember this tomorrow?"

There's a chorus of groans, but not much protesting, as everyone is already leaning on one another for support and probably dreaming of being in bed. Luna, Demelza, and Lavender are already by the exit.

"I'll go walk with them," says Hermione.

"Sounds good," says Ron. "I'll keep an eye on the boys. And Gin."

"See you at the hotel," she says before trotting off to catch up with the rest of the girls.

The walk back feels much longer than it is, especially with three drunk and distractible girls. To Hermione's relief, the topic of her and Ron passes quickly, and Hermione wonders if they really are too far gone to remember this later.

As soon as they arrive back at the hotel, they split off and stumble back toward their rooms. Ron and the boys aren't too far behind her, and Hermione watches in amusement as he corrals them toward the stairs to the suites. Still sober, Ron and Hermione breathe a sigh of relief once everyone is safely up the stairs.

"Finally," says Ron. He loops his fingers through hers and waggles his eyebrows. "Now that the kids are in bed…" he says, trailing off mid-sentence.

"What do you have in mind?" she asks.

"Fancy a swim?"

Hermione looks toward the pool. Even though the hotel lobby doesn't offer a complete view, she can tell that it's relatively empty and looks a lot calmer and more relaxing than it does during the day. "Sure. Let's stop by our rooms to grab our suits?"

"Or," he croons, tugging her arm to pull her into an embrace. He continues in a whisper, "It's three AM, and we're in Vegas. Knickers will be fine, don't you think?"

Hermione bites her lip. "What if we get in trouble?"

"Live a little?"

Hermione considers skinny-dipping in a public pool living a lot, but as it turns out, adopting a 'what happens in Vegas' mindset has served her quite well this week. "Okay. But if we get caught, I'll be quite angry with you."

Ron's eyes flash with something unexpected — he almost appears excited at the thought of her being angry. "Win, win," he says.

She recalls their first day married and how they argued in his suite and then again at Erised Elopements — she saw the same flash in his eyes back then, and it clicks for her. Ron loves to argue. Hermione can't help but laugh. If he's into a hot temper, he picked the right girl.

He might like London-Hermione, after all.

The back of the pool deck is spotted with miniature hot tubs, capacity of two, as if the resort was built for honeymooners. It's perfect — there'd be nothing worse than a third oblivious guest plunking down next to them. They approach an empty one obscured by a few fake palm trees and set their belongings on the edge.

Ron pulls off his shirt and shorts and offers her a sheepish smile and a shrug, and his neck turns red, almost as if he's nervous. It makes Hermione want to shout at him and remind him how beautiful he is.

He doesn't waste any time stepping into the hot water, and as soon as he does, Hermione laments the lack of view.

"Your turn," he says with a smile. He leans against the back of the hot tub with his arms on the edge.

His gaze feels like a spotlight on her, but she doesn't mind it. With one last glance around to make sure no one else is watching, she basks in Ron's salacious stare as she strips off her dress to expose her matching bra and knicker set. Ron beams as she steps into the water.

"You're so goddamn beautiful." His voice, paired with the look of awe on his face, make his words somewhat convincing. Then his voice lowers, and in a surprisingly commanding tone, he continues, "Get over here."

Heat pools in her lower belly, and it has nothing to do with the temperature of the water. When she's close enough, his arms envelop her and pull her close. Her legs find a home on either side of his thighs, and their lips connect like magnets.

Hermione can feel Ron's immediate attraction to her press against her, so she presses back. He groans through their kiss, and his fingers travel up the back of her thighs and cup her bum.

He runs his tongue along her lips, asking for an invitation, and she lets him in without resistance. Their kiss deepens, and they take their time exploring it. One of Ron's hands slides from her bum to her stomach — she typically doesn't like it when men touch her there, but it feels nice when Ron does it, like an act of appreciation rather than judgment. His hand travels upward and lands at her breast, and he runs his thumb over the lace.

He breaks the kiss, but only to trail kisses down her cheek and neck until landing at the soft flesh below her ear. His teeth make contact with her skin, but only for a second before he pulls away to ask, "is it okay if I leave a mark?"

"Yes." The sound of her voice surprises her, but not as much as how good it feels when he starts to suck at her neck. Without a thought, her hand tangles into his hair, and she presses on his head, encouraging him to bite harder.

It all feels so good, so perfect, and she almost doesn't mind that they're in public. She wants to rip off his pants and have him in the hot tub. Almost.

As Ron gets lost in kissing and sucking on her neck, she tousles his hair, and her mind starts to wander. They'll be back in London in a few days, and Hermione usually wears her hair up at work. She hadn't thought about that when she told Ron to bite harder.

The single thought about hiding a hickey at the office breaks a dam, and more start rushing in. Before Las Vegas, she'd never snogged anyone in public, let alone half-naked in a hot tub. A month ago, she'd have never told a man she was falling in love with him after a few days or slept with him so soon. What happened?

For a moment, it feels as though she's that third, unwelcome guest in the hot tub just watching the pair snog each other senseless. The girl on Ron's lap letting him have his way with her is nothing but an experiment, an example of what would happen if Hermione wore her heart on her sleeve.

Her stomach clenches for the same reason it does when she sees Seamus throwing back one too many drinks, or Lavender basking in male attention, or Luna dancing wildly under neon lights at the club. Before Las Vegas, she would have named it superiority — she's too good for all of that. But she knows better now. It's just envy.

Unfortunately, she built her life in London under the assumption that she was too good for wild nights. Too responsible to just say yes to things. Too uptight to let her hair down, especially to hide a hickey.

How is all of this going to fit into her life in London? She stops playing with Ron's hair.

As soon as she stops, Ron pulls away from her neck. "Are you okay? Was that too much?"

Hermione looks into his bright blue eyes, wide with concern. She doesn't want to ruin the moment for him, but it's already ruined for her. "What happens when we go back to London?"

Ron's hand drops from its place on her chest and meets the other at her lower back. His embrace loosens so she can lean back and see his whole face. "What do you want to happen?"

She hesitates. The thought of going back to her life in London without Ron doesn't exactly appeal to her, so she tells him the truth. "I want to be with you."

"Same." He brushes a hair behind her ear and smiles at her.

"So, where do we start?"

"Married." He makes it sound so simple.

"How married?"

Ron laughs. "Are there different levels of marriage? And is this a conversation you want to have right now?"

"Considering we'll be back in London in two days… yes."

Ron nods. "Okay. Then let's talk about it."

Her arms drape loosely around his neck. "Are we really going to make a go of this?"

"I want to," he says, his voice sincere. "I don't think it's that complicated."

But it is complicated. Do they live together? Share money? Does Ron want children? They've never even talked about their future; they just got married. "There are a lot of logistics to consider."

"I say we play it by ear."

Hermione sighs, and Ron holds her more tightly.

"Look. We'll go back to London and dive into our lives. From there, we'll figure out how to blend our lives together. There's not much we can do from this hot tub."

"We have six months to figure it out."

"At least six months, but I'd like to think we don't have a deadline at all. It's not like some judge will stop in at the six-month mark and declare us divorced because we don't have every loose end tied up. Heck, my parents have been married for forty years, and they still have shit to figure out. They just love each other, so they tend to put the shit on the backburner."

Hermione hadn't thought of it that way — for some reason, six months felt like a strong, hard deadline. Maybe she was just afraid that Ron would be itching to leave, and she'd only have six months to prove she was worth staying married to. She smiles — she'd never have expected the words 'put the shit on the backburner' to give her butterflies, and yet, it does.

"What is your hesitation?" he asks.

"The truth?" She doesn't want to overwhelm him with her insecurities — that's London-Hermione, and she's still not sure he'll like her.

"Of course I want the truth. Can't start our marriage off with lies."

Hermione takes a deep breath before answering. "I'm worried you won't like me."

Ron narrows her eyes at her. "Why wouldn't I like you?"

"You didn't when we first met."

"But I like you now."

"But this isn't really me," she says. "This is Vegas Hermione. Not London Hermione."

"Do you think they're that different?" he says, his head cocking to the side. He lifts one eyebrow as if trying to call her bluff.

"Yes. I do."

"Cool. I can't wait to get to know London Hermione." His tone is so calm, so casual.

"I'm serious, Ron," she says, pulling away so his hands loosen around her waist. "I don't want you to be disappointed."

He responds by gently tugging her back so he can place a well-aimed kiss on her nose. "How about you give me a chance, then let me decide if I'm disappointed? Don't you think I have the same fear?"

"You're afraid I won't like you?" she says, leaning her forehead against his.

He nods as he repeats her words back to her, "You didn't when we first met."

Hermione smiles at the memory of their first disastrous encounter in London. "That's true. You ordered a straw like a psychopath."

Ron laughs. "But you like me now."

"Also true. Now you don't order straws—"

Ron cuts her off by pressing a kiss to her lips. "Oh, it's more than that, and you know it. I think your exact words were that you're 'falling in love' with me."

She lightly kisses him again. "We both said that."

"We did," he says, running his thumb along her cheek. "I meant it, too."

Their lips meet again. It's less hungry than before but more caring and slow-paced, like two lovers that don't have a deadline. His arms tighten against her back, shifting her hips against his body.

"Do you normally say it so soon?" she asks when they surface.

"What, thirty-six hours?" laughs Ron. "Never. You?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "That was most definitely Vegas Hermione."

"Same. Maybe I'll keep that part of Vegas Ron."

He tries to kiss her again, but she hesitates, lost in thought. Such a simple statement sends her mind reeling. She's still worried that Ron won't like her London-self as much, but that's under the assumption that she's going to revert to that person upon landing at Heathrow. She'd imagined London-Ron as the same happy-go-lucky person that she's gotten to know. He's probably different, too.

"You're usually quite guarded, aren't you?" he asks as he watches her expression change.

"Yeah, I'd say I am," she nods. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah. Figured it was the best way to avoid getting hurt."

Hermione chuckles. She uses the same logic as Ron. "How's that working out for you?"

"It's a good way to stay single. A bad way to fall in love."

What they're doing might be short-sighted and naive, but Ron makes a good point. If love is at the bottom of the deep-end, she'll never find it by dipping her toes in the water. Maybe getting married in Vegas was the equivalent of getting pushed into the pool.

"Maybe Vegas will have changed us." Her fingers find Ron's hair again, and she can't help but play with it.

"Or at the very least, woken us up a bit."

His lips find hers again, and this time his hand starts to wander from her lower back down toward her knickers. He slips his hands underneath the lace to grip her bare skin and groans as his hips grind against hers.

She chuckles at his reaction and dips her fingers inside of his waistband, where they brush against his erection. "What, do you want me or something?"

"Cheeky," he laughs. "And absolutely. But as much as I want to have you right here, I'd like a little privacy."

"Back to my room?" she whispers in his ear.

"Yes, please."

x

After pulling their clothing over wet underwear, Hermione leads the way back up to her suite, hand in hand with Ron as he follows closely behind. Her dress is uncomfortably heavy as it soaks up the water from her bra and knickers, but she doesn't mind — she knows she won't be wearing it for much longer.

Ron seems to have the same thought because the moment the door closes behind them, he spins her around to face him, pulls her close, and runs his hand down her back. She shivers at the contact.

"Let's say we get you back out of this dress," he whispers in her ear. She doesn't protest as his fingers dip under the hemline to tug it up and over her head, once again leaving her standing before him in nothing but her lingerie.

Ron then pulls off his shirt while she unbuttons his shorts until he matches her, almost naked. His hands grip the bottom of her thighs, and with the help of a small hop, he pops her up to waist height. She wraps her legs around him to lock herself in place and captures his lips with hers.

Instead of hauling her to the bed, he makes his way to the bathroom, shoulders the door open, and sets her onto the bathroom vanity. Without removing his lips, Ron reaches around her back to unclasp her bra, letting it drop to the tile below.

His pants join her bra on the floor, followed by her knickers. Hermione arches her back as Ron's mouth travels down her body, kissing every square inch of skin it can find until it lands at her breasts. Hermione can hardly believe they're under the same fluorescent lighting where she picked apart her appearance a few mornings ago because right now, she's never felt sexier.

Ron echoes her thoughts by trailing kisses from her breasts, across her stomach, and to her thighs, which open for him without protest. He dives his tongue between her legs and groans as if she's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. Her eyes flutter shut as he steadies her lower back with one hand and slips a finger inside her.

"Oh my god, Ron," she mumbles, tangling her fingers in his hair to hold his head in place. "Keep doing that."

Pressure starts to build at her center, and she leans her back into the mirror to give him a better angle. One leg drapes lazily over his shoulder, and his free hand moves from her lower back to her thigh to hold it in place. She continues to press his head into her as his tongue circles her clit.

"Ron, I'm gonna come—"

As soon as she says it, the movements of his tongue slow down, his fingers pause inside her, and the pressure comes to a frustrating plateau. She groans and wraps her other leg around his head to lock him in place. She can feel the vibration of his chuckle against her.

"I'm so close!" she whines, and he removes his mouth from her to gaze up.

"Oh, I know."

What a tease. "Fuck you," she adds, aiming for a playful tone.

"Gladly." As Hermione rolls her eyes, Ron beams, "Marriage with you is going to be so goddamn fun."

He rises to his feet to turn on the shower and steps inside, motioning for Hermione to join him. Pouting, she hops off the vanity and meets him under the warm running water. "You owe me an orgasm."

"Oh, calm down," he says as he guides her back to the wall. "I'm going to finish you off right now."

She bites her lip and spreads her legs as Ron lowers to a knee and runs his nose along her center. He then takes his time kissing and nipping at her inner thigh until Hermione clears her throat and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Jesus, woman," he laughs. "So needy."

But it works — he attaches his mouth and lets his fingers travel inside her to work their magic, and it doesn't take long to get back to where he had her before. The hot water dripping down her body only intensifies the sensation of his lips on her, and this time it's her breath that gives away how close she is to release. Ron keeps his contact this time, his tongue moving slow, rhythmic circles around her center until she reaches a peak. He holds her up as she collapses against his face, grips, and tugs at his wet hair, and his name involuntarily escapes her lips as a high-pitched, breathy moan.

Ron holds his tongue on her until she comes down, cycling through a few waves of pleasure before her legs can hold her up again. Then, he kisses his way back up her body until his lips find hers.

"Worth it," she says when he breaks away. He starts kissing her cheek and neck, and she whispers in his ear, "now what?"

"I want to fuck you."

"I bet you do," she says as she slithers out of his embrace and reaches for her shampoo bottle. "You'll get your chance."

Ron smirks at her as she starts lathering up her hair. "Tease."

"It takes one to know one." Hermione smiles at him as she plops some shampoo onto his head before rinsing her own.

She takes her time cleaning herself, and Ron follows suit, but they both know exactly what they're doing with every 'accidental' brush of his cock against her hip or breasts against his back. It doesn't take long before his hands are on her again, rubbing soap over her body under the guise of helping her get clean. He runs soapy fingers over her chest, her neck, and down her legs, then flips her around so her breasts press against the hard, cold tile. She shivers as his hands run up and down her back, and then his body melts against hers, his erection nestled between her legs.

"Please?" he croons into her ear.

Teasing him is deliciously fun, but there's only so much she can take before she absolutely needs him. "Yes."

She widens her stance and feels his knees bend behind her as he positions his erection at her entrance. To allow him access, she arches her back, tilting her hips up toward him, and he slides in, groaning with pleasure as he fills her from behind.

He moves slowly at first, exploring the limits of this position before picking up his pace. His hand plants to the wall beside her head, and she watches his knuckles turn white as he grips the tile, moaning along with him as each buck of his hips presses her against the wall.

The pressure rises again, and she can sense they're both close to release. To her surprise, he slows down and settles his face next to hers.

"Hermione," he breathes into her ear, "You're the sexiest thing I've ever seen, you know that, right?"

She hopes to god the question is rhetorical because she doesn't answer, instead turning around to face him. His lips crash into hers as one leg at a time swings around his hips until he's holding her against the wall. Their position is perfect for his cock to slip right back in, and he resumes his thrusts, each one harder and deeper than the last, until they both lose themselves in pleasure.

Her legs drop to the shower tile. Panting, he leans against her, embracing her. "Let's do that again sometime."

Hermione laughs and places a kiss on his cheek. "Whatever you say, hubby."

Still covered in soap, they step under the water stream, kissing until every bubble washes off. Ron reluctantly turns off the shower and steps out to grab them each a towel.

"How did I get so damn lucky?" Ron mutters as he towels off. His voice is low and quiet, as if he's wondering to himself.

"I could ask myself the same question," she says before placing another kiss on his lips. The kiss lingers as they breathe each other in.

Hermione can't wait for more showers like this.

Once dry, Ron settles underneath the covers. Not bothering to put any clothes on herself, Hermione dives in beside him.

They settle underneath the blankets together as if it's something they've done one hundred times before. Only when Ron wraps his long arm around her waist like a protective seat belt does Hermione realize that it's the first time they've knowingly shared a bed. His embrace feels safe and secure, just like the harness on the Deathstick, and she'd almost be willing to drop through the sky again if his arms were around her. Almost.

Even though he's quite a bit taller than her, his knees fit perfectly behind hers. Just like they did in the shower. Hermione closes her eyes and listens to his breath as he buries his head in her bushy hair, now frizzing as it dries. Her own breathing settles into a rhythm, and she's about to drift into sleep when Ron speaks.

"My lease is almost up." His voice is low, almost a whisper, but even so, there's a tremble to it.

Hermione feels a smile forming on her lips. "Are you renewing?"

"I was planning on it," he says. "Before."

Before. Her smile grows bigger. "Before you accidentally got married?"

"Yeah."

It should be a big decision for any couple, but it doesn't feel that way. Not at all.

"Move in with me?"

"Really?"

"Head-first, right?" She can almost feel his eyes widening. "I have a huge shower. You'll love it."

Ron lets out a long breath and chuckles into her hair. "I hope you don't mind that my favorite color is orange," he says as he tightens his embrace.

"Oh god. I hate orange."

Ron uses his nose to move aside some of Hermione's hair and presses a kiss to her neck. "Well, marriage is about compromise, love."

Hermione imagines her flat adorned with orange curtains and art, Ron's clothing scattered around her room, and his dirty dishes in the sink. "We're gonna drive each other barmy once this honeymoon phase is over, aren't we?"

Even though he can't see her, Ron must sense her smiling too and know better than to take her complaint seriously. "Can't fucking wait."

Hermione snuggles up closer against Ron, her head in the crook of his neck. It's a good thing he doesn't take her too seriously because the reality is, she can't fucking wait either.

[prismatales]

Endeavor with a quirkless child

These headcanons had already been requested before, but it felt like they were a bit messy and rushed so I opted to remake it as much as I could. Hope you enjoy it. This is going to be a long post.

Part 2 - Part 3

WARNING: Mentions of child negligence, panic attacks, mentions of abuse.

• You are Shoto's twin sister and youngest of the Todoroki siblings, your birth was a surprise for the whole family since the doctors only noticed one baby during the whole pregnancy and Rei didn't even look like she was carrying twins.

• You have your father's hair and eye color while the rest came from your mother, being a carbon copy of her with the same facial features and eye shape, it was like seeing Rei with a red wig and contacts.

• When Shoto's quirk manifested but yours didn't Enji waited for a while, but eventually he suspected his daughter was quirkless when there was no change, he took you to the doctor anyways, to confirm his suspicion.

• His guess had been right, you were indeed quirkless, after the doctor gave the diagnosis his whole attitude had changed, he barely paid you attention on the way home, but the moment you came back home it was like you didn't even exist, he wouldn't even look at you.

• His treatment caused a huge rift between you and your twin, Shoto wished your father would ignore him like he did to you, you wished he would at least remember your name. your other siblings -especially Touya- and your mother made sure to show you as much affection as possible, with Rei it was a bit harder though, she loved you but the sight of your hair and eye color would made her uneasy, then everything started going downhill.

• Her mental health had been greatly affected by your father's constant abuse, this proved to be fatal the day she accidently hurt Shoto, your father didn't hesitate when he sent her away. Then the day Touya died the rift got worse. Fuyumi ended up having to step in and take care of Shoto, who you barely talked or interacted with, your father made sure you wouldn't go anywhere near his "masterpiece" and distract him from his training, Natsuo took over Touya's place and helped take care of you, trying to spend as much time with you as possible, out of all your family you ended up taking after him the most.

• Eventually you ended up spending less time with Natsuo and Fuyumi, Natsuo was busy in high school and with after school activities, sometimes he wouldn't even sleep home, staying over his at his friend's house during study session. Meanwhile Fuyumi started college, she was always busy with her studies and with chores, sometimes you'd try helping her when it was obvious how stressed out she was. Being home alone with people that treated you like a ghost was hard. By the time Shoto and you were about to start high school there was no difference in your relationship, the two of you barely knew each other, let alone talk.

• Neither Shoto or your Dad realized you were also going to attend class in U.A., you had done everything yourself and convinced Fuyumi of helping you when it came to sign important stuff.

• A few days before school started you made the decision to dye your hair -sporting a pixie cut- a different color in order to avoid being recognized as a Todoroki, being in the Support department meant you'd probably end up interacting with your brother's class, and the last thing you wanted was to get his attention.

• It was during the sports festival people found out you were Endeavor's child. apart from your classmates and the school staff nobody else in school was aware you were a Todoroki. Personally you blamed Present Mic, he had been so excited during the obstacles race and accidently yelled out your full name, (Name) Todoroki. You could feel your heart rate dropping significantly, your secret was out.

• "EEEEEHHHH?!?!?!?!"

• The whole stadium was in chaos, everyone was yelling, you could hear some of Shoto's classmates screaming "that's your sister?!" Your brother was speechless, Fuyumi and Natsuo knew this would happen, the whole school was shocked. For the first time in years your Father had noticed you...and he was furious.

• During the Cavalry Battle the feeling of your father staring your way was pretty obvious, even from afar the feeling of his glare almost digging a hole into the back of your head was pretty obvious.

• After the Cavalry battle was over and the other activities started many students were trying to approach you, thankfully your friends made it easier to escape. It wasn't a surprise this would happen once people realized who you were, but to suddenly being roughly grabbed by the arm and dragged away by your father as soon as you were in the clear certainly was a surprise you did not see coming.

• Endeavor had confronted you, what were you doing in U.A. distracting Shoto and what had you done to your hair, he still hadn't let go of your now aching arm, you could only wince by how much it hurt, a bruise would definitely appear.

• "If you paid any attention you would know I'm staying as far away from him just like you ordered or did you forget I'm not allowed to talk to my own brother because I'm nothing more than a failure?" He wasn't expecting you to talk back, neither did he expect the way you glared at him, it was a glare filled with spite and frustration, he recognized that kind of look, it was the same way he glared at All Might. It was an Irony, his youngest daughter may not have a quirk, and she may have her mother's face, but that glare was one-hundred percent his, it easily rivaled Shoto's.

• The moment he made a threat about pulling you out of school he quickly regreted his words "So that's how it is? you're going to get rid of another distraction aren't you? Just like you did with Mom!? Just like you did with Touya?!" the shock of your words quickly made him let go of your arm on reflex, an ugly bruise had already shown up.

• It was at that moment Enji finally took a good look at you, he was expecting a scared and docile child, but now? that look filled with hatred was proof enough you weren't said kid anymore. Before he could do anything else you had already ran away from him, neither of you had noticed Shoto had been listening on the conversation.

• After the Sports Festival was over the whole school went on break, during those days Enji slowly started to notice your presence around the house, every now and then he would hear Fuyumi and you talking, the conversations were often short, he asked her about it, She mentioned that you were often on your phone talking with Natsuo when he wasn't busy with college since he was closer to you than her, sometimes it made her sad to know you were closer to him, but you always made sure to let her know how much you appreciated her, it's just that Shoto needed her more than you did.

• The relationship with Shoto a bit more complex, it was hard for him to talk to you considering your habit of avoiding him, at first he felt hurt, but with some time and patience you eventually stopped, the both of you would make small talk every now and then, it was awkward but it was a start, the truth is the both of you hadn't really made an attempt to talk. Until the day you had run into each other when he went to visit your mother, who you often visited since middle school, Rei had thought you two were getting along and was so happy, neither of you had the courage to tell her it had been just a coincidence so you both opted to make an effort to mend your relationship as siblings. As a way to start over he offered to introduce you to his classmates once class started again, you did the same.

• When it came to Enji though, it was obvious you were ignoring him, If he came into the same room you were in, you would get up and leave without hesitation. You wouldn't answer if he tried to talk to you and if he insisted all he'd get was a blank look or a glare, a snappy response every now an then.

• The only time you wouldn't leave was during dinner, mostly because Fuyumi and Shoto convinced you to stay, otherwise you would have stayed in your room, the dinner had been awkward, you had stayed and talked with your siblings, but refused to acknowledge your father's existence. Enji was starting to get annoyed by your "childish demeanor".

• During the internships he contacted the support company that was in charge of his costume, they were more than happy to offer "Endeavor's daughter" an internship with them. When you found out you had been furious, the moment they contacted you they never referred to you as anything other than his daughter, you hated it, all the blood, sweat and tears you put into your work and what do they call you? "Endeavor's Daughter", Not (Name) Todoroki.

• Enji and you had an argument, you had rejected the internship, you were going to get it based on your achievements, not with his help. He told you "The mere fact you have my last name is already helping you being noticed, you're still a child, you could use their help!" you gave him an incredulous look, This.meant.war.

• A few days later he barged into your room after receiving a notification with a huge bill on his credit card from an expensive hair salon (Shoto had stolen his credit card and took you to get your hair done by a professional recommended by Kirishima, turns out you had messed up with your hair dye).

• Enji noticed you weren't there but your laptop was left on, the content on the screen caught his attention, you had an assignment from school that consisted of creating a Powerpoint presentation where you had to recommend ideas for support items or upgrades for official Pro-heroes, maybe it was bad luck or someone thought it would be a nice joke, but you ended up being assigned to work on his hero costume. What caught his attention was how your work was so professional.

• The presentation had a picture a journalist had taken of him during patrol, he had to admit you actually picked one of his favorite ones. The presentation itself was nicely elaborated, you were meticulously pointing out how his costume worked, the materials used so the costume wouldn't burn away by his flames, how some aspects could be better and possible upgrades that could be implemented without changing the design as well, an example was a temperature regulator like the one present on Shoto's newest costume. He was impressed nonetheless.

• Besides the Laptop was a stack of papers, they were your notes from school, test results and report cards, he felt like a child peeking on something he shouldn't. the only thing he could think to defend himself was "As your father I have the right to know about your grades" while looking thought the report card. It was excellent, all of your subjects had perfect scores, every single question on every single test was answered correctly. There was post-it notes from your teacher congratulating you for your grades, even letters with offers for possible internships with other support agencies. You were easily the Number 1 student in the support course. All this time he thought you only went to U.A. to mess around with Shoto. He didn't realize you were a genius. No wonder you had been so angry.

• By the time Shoto and you were back Enji wanted to talk to you about your grades, but stopped in his tracks when he saw what you had done to your hair this time. It was blond, but not any shade of bond, it was exactly the same color as All Might's. He nearly burned down the house.

• It wasn't until All Might's fight against All for One that Enji began to think about the things he did and the lives he ruined, how his actions ended up breaking Rei to the point she had to be sent to a hospital, the ways he hurt all of his family, how the majority of his children probably despised him, and what he could do to try and fix his mistakes. The day he was forced to take the mantle of the No.1 Hero left a bitter taste on his mouth, how could he accept the title of the new symbol of peace?!

• After his conversation with All-Might about the true meaning of being a hero, he made an oath to try and fix his relationship with his family...he wished it was that easy. He didn't know where to start.

• He tried to be more present in your lives, He asked Fuyumi when was your birthday: "It's on January 11" "No, that's Shoto's birthday" Fuyumi didn't know wether to laugh or cry in frustration "...Dad...they're twins..." "..."

• Enji would leave gifts outside of your door, hours later he would find them in the trash, not even opened. He tried to be present during Shoto's hero license course just to end up being ignored, when he told him he would become a hero his son could be proud of, boy did you rub off on Shoto pretty quick. "Maybe you should start by becoming a half-decent father to begin with" ...Ouch...

• After the fight with the high-end nomu he ended up on the hospital in critical condition, during one of his visits Hawks told him a young fan had asked about his condition, he paid no attention to that. Enji was released from the hospital and came home to find all his children having lunch, Natsuo, Shoto and you were busy slurping soba, but you were not looking at him or anyone else, there was a mix of doubt and distress on your face.

• When Natsuo tried to leave, Enji tried to stop him to stay and talk, all hell broke loose, he talked about how their mother and Fuyumi were trying to forgive him, about growing up having to hear Rei screaming and Shoto crying, he talked about Touya, and then he mentioned you, the look you gave Natsuo was a plead to stop, but he didn't. He was furious.

• "I know you complained about her hair, but do you even know why (Name) did it in the first place?! The first time she went with us to see mom she had a relapse when she saw (Name) because her hair reminded her of everything she went through! (Name) ended up having a breakdown once we came back home, I went looking for her when I heard her screaming and you know what I saw? I saw my little sister with a pair of scissors and almost all of her hair cut off!" Enji was speechless, he thought it was just teenage rebellion or pettiness, you couldn't help but look away in shame.

• That night Shoto talked to him, he knew the reason you were so down, you both had moved into the school dorms and were together when the Nomu attacked, he was there when you had a panic attack the moment everyone thought the Nomu had killed him, it took a long time for his teacher to calm you down, the aftermath ended up leaving you with an internal conflict. Then Enji found out it was you who had gone to the hospital, YOU, the daughter he had neglected the most out of all his children.

• Didn't you hate him? Why had you been so afraid if you "hated" him? did you wanted to forgive him? yes, he's your father, but did you have to? did he deserve it? all those thoughts had gone through your head during that moment, you weren't on good terms with him, but you didn't want him dead either.

• He made the decision to talk to you in private.

• You had been confused when your teacher said you were needed at home after class, and someone would come pick you up. Why hadn't Shoto been called?

• You didn't expect to see Endeavor's personal chauffer waiting outside, along with your father who said he needed to talk to you in private.

• The ride was awkward and silent, Enji noticed your body language, back rigid, hands gripping tightly on your uniform, slight shaking, you were clearly nervous and uncomfortable, this was the first time you two had been this close to each other. Until the car stopped in front of a place that made you relax a bit, it was your favorite cafe.

• He found out you frequented this place through social media, He saw a few pics from people mentioning how the Todoroki twins came at least once a week. it was small and cozy place, it felt like home.

• Once you both had picked a table away from other customers and ordered your drinks did Enji start speaking.

• He didn't realize how much his treatment had affected your whole family until it was too late, he asked for your forgiveness for everything he did to you and the others, for being a terrible father, for the way he neglected you, for the way he screamed at you once for trying to talk to Shoto when you were younger, for not realizing how much potential you had. Then he handed you a folder.

• "These are papers for an emancipation request, if you want to move away from home I won't reject your decision, and I'll provide you with all the financial support you ask for, all you have to do is sign the document, a lawyer will take care of everything else and work as an intermediary if you wish not to talk anymore, I'll understand".

• Enji thought you would sign right away by your silence, that you were reviewing the details of his offer, he didn't consider you would close the folder, there was no anger or fear in your face, you were calm.

• "Please understand one thing...I...I'd like to say that I forgive you, I don't...hate you, but you just can't expect things to change overnight, it's not that easy, you hurt our family for years. If you really want me to forgive you...prove me you can change, if you're willing to make up for everything, not with money or connections, but with your actions, maybe, just maybe I can actually see you as my da--as my f-father" you reached out for a handshake, a truce, he looked at your hand for a few seconds before reaching out, you were giving him a chance, and he would make sure not to waste it.

• Slowly your dynamic changed, the first time he noticed was when you stopped ignoring him like before, something as simple as a "good morning" was enough, dinner wasn't awkward between the two of you anymore, Natsuo was still hesitant to forgive him, but he was being civilized for your sake. Fuyumi was so happy when she noticed you stopped reaching out for her to sign anything school related, now Enji was the one taking care of everything, making sure to let you know he was proud of your work.

• How did he realize you were starting to make amends? Your hair.

• A few months later Enji heard you and Shoto talking in the living room. "Your roots are starting to show, are you going to retouch your hair soon?" "ah...no, not anymore" you ran your fingers through it, your red hair was clearly visible, it was starting to look like a bob cut "I'm going to leave it natural again". You were finally starting to accept him.

I'm considering doing a part 2 mainly from Shoto's perspective, I have some headcanons that would fit him instead of Enji.

[hellimagines]

Indebted to You -- Barry OBX

Masterlist

Summary: As JJ Maybank’s older sister it’s always been your top priority to protect your little brother. Even if that means easing your father’s temper by indebting yourself to Outerbanks’ top dealer.

Warnings: child abuse, frequent dr*g mention and dr*g dealing (of the non-oui’d variety), paying off someone else’s debt non-conventionally

Pairing: Barry x fem!Maybank!reader

Word Count: 2.4K

DISCLAIMER: Please, for the love of fuck, DO NOT do hard dr*gs just because you think they’re ‘cool’ or because you think dating a dealer is ‘cool’. Believe me when I tell you that neither of those things are cool, and that is NOT what I am trying to get across with this story; I don’t condone hard dr*g use.

A/N: This is something I pulled out of my ass because I wanted to write for Barry really bad, but I didn’t have any ideas. It has potential but I’m not sure if it’s gonna go anywhere. Also, Barry may be a little OOC since we don’t get much from his character. Anyway, I hope you guys like this and let me know what you think!

You released a slow, aggravated huff while staring down at your drunken father. He sat hunched over on the couch, with his elbows digging into his knees and his gaze trained on the coffee table before him. Behind you, your younger brother was curled into an armchair with a frozen bag of expired peas pressed against his left eye and a bloody tissue under his nose. You yourself had a welt already throbbing and beginning to swell on your cheekbone, but you ignored it in favor of kicking your dad’s limp foot. His head shot up, neck cracking with the unexpected speed, and narrowed his eyes at you dangerously.

“You had some nerve steppin’ in on something that wasn’t your business. What’ve I told you ‘bout stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong?” he snarled while attempting to stand, but was pathetically unsuccessful due to his inebriated state. All he managed to do was stumble and fall back down on the couch with a grunt. 

You rolled your eyes, “And what’ve I told you about mixing your whiskey and blow? I already have your grave dug outback, and the sooner you keep this shit going, the sooner I get to toss your ass inside it.” Luke scoffed at your words but didn’t offer a rebuttal as he flexed his bloody knuckles. “JJ didn’t touch the fucking money-- I’ve been keeping ahold of it so nothing goes missing before I head to Barry’s. You’d remember that if you weren’t fucking high or drunk all the time. JJ’s got his own job and is making his own money, he doesn’t need to jack your rolled bills for anything.” 

You pulled out a wad of recently-flattened bills, shaking the cash in front of your dad’s face. It was roughly $600 that you had made the past weekend while bouncing from Kook party to Kook party. Luke’s eyes widened at the sight of the money and he instinctively reached out to grab it from you. Your arm jerked back and you clutched the wad tightly before shoving it back into the pocket of your leather jacket. 

With a shake of your head, you looked over your shoulder and gave your brother a once over, nodding to yourself after assessing he wouldn’t be dropping dead anytime soon. “Why don’t you go to JB’s? I’ve got shit handled here and I heard the waves were supposed to be good before the sun sets.” 

“You sure? I can go with you-”

“Over my dead body. I got involved in this so you didn’t have to. Scram, before I change my mind and make you clean the kitchen.” JJ frowned but did as he was told, depositing the peas back in the freezer before making his way out the front door. You turned back to your dad, who was now laying on the couch with an arm thrown over his face. “I don’t have many more runs to do before we’re out of this shit-eating debt you caused with Barry. Keep your paws off the cash and we won’t have any problems, okay? You can’t fuck this up before I manage to fix it. Please, dad,” you whispered pleadingly and lowered yourself to the edge of the coffee table. 

Your dad peeked open an eye at you before laughing darkly. “You’re running the game, princess. The streets know you, but even worse, those rich Kooks know you and know what you have to offer. That won’t be forgotten, especially with how good you’ve been running that shit. You’re not gonna be getting out anytime soon, so what’s it matter if a couple twenties go missin’ or a gram gets cut on our table? Don’t piss Barry off and don’t get caught by the cops, and you’ll be set for life.” 

“No, I’m not like you,” you growled as your lip curled into a sneer. “I don’t wanna keep dealing and end up bitter and angry and alone, like you. Once I’m finished working off your debt, I’m done.” 

Luke shot up from the couch in the blink of an eye, towering over you while gripping your jaw tightly. You could feel his fingers painfully digging into your skin, pressing against your teeth, and making you wince. “Doesn’t matter what you fucking want. This isn’t your world, princess. Once people know who’s moving product in the streets, you’re stuck. So you may as well embrace the Maybank name and take what you can while you can. Now, be a good girl and go make daddy proud,” he hissed in your ear, before roughly letting go of your jaw by flinging your head to the side. You teetered off the edge of the table and fell to your side on the floor, but Luke didn’t spare you a second glance as he stepped over you and stumbled to his room. 

After pushing yourself to your feet and massaging your sore jaw, you shot a glare toward the direction of your father’s room. “Fuck you,” you spat quietly before leaving the house and slamming the door shut behind you.

By the time you made it to Barry’s trailer, the sun had set and the small grassy area Barry called his ‘backyard’ was lit up with lights, noises, and people. You made your way around the trailer, nodding to a few people you recognized before you found Barry lounging in a lawn chair with a beer in his hand. His smile was wide and dirty as he laughed with the people surrounding him, seemingly at ease with everyone. When he noticed you walking toward him out of the corner of his eye, his smile brightened and he shouted out for you.

“Ay, look who it is!” he yelled, waving an arm out toward you while the others cheered at your arrival. “I was just thinkin’ about you, sweetheart. C’mon, sit down with me. I left a chair open just for you,” Barry smiled, gesturing to the black lawn chair beside him with a Mikes waiting in the arm pocket. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but to snicker softly at him and take the offered chair. 

“What made you so certain I’d show up tonight?” you hummed teasingly while opening the spiked limeade that had been waiting for you. 

Barry grinned over the lid of his beer, his brown eyes watching you intently as you drank from your bottle. “Because I know you, sweetheart. Sunday nights are your drop-off nights.” Your cheeks warmed at his comment, but you played it off with a scoff and shake of your head. “I wanted to make sure you were more comfortable tonight, so I kept that chair open for ya and grabbed your favorite while on a liquor run.” 

A harsh scoff came from a chair on the other side of Barry, and you peeked around him to see who it came from. “Special privilege for his new fucktoy, what a surprise,” the voice muttered, and you recognized it as one of Barry’s frequent buyers, Sherry. You’d never had a conversation with the girl despite having gone to school with her in the past, and even though she was always at Barry’s get-togethers, she typically seemed more focused on her next fix rather than talking with anyone.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Barry snapped, turning to look at her with a clenched jaw. He seemed to purposefully be blocking her view of you, and you remained silent as the altercation unfolded.

“You know what it means,” she snapped back. “Whenever a new piece of trash starts selling for you, you put your dick in her and use her until another one shows up. But, you never bought them their favorite bitch-drink or saved them a seat, so what makes this one so much better, huh? Why does she get to sit in the big, nice chair next to you, but the rest of us have to have three-legged chairs and warm beers? What about her cunt makes her so much better?” Marie shouted, causing a couple of the others to whistle in disbelief. 

Before Barry could respond, one of the boys in the circle spoke up. “Maybe it’s cause she’s not a psychotic bitch who snorts the blow instead of selling it.”  You could hear Marie’s angry gasp at the diss, and when Barry gave her a pointed look rather than defending her, she flipped off the group before storming away. 

“Remind me why we let Sherry stick around all the time?” Someone questioned as you idly picked at the label on your bottle.

“Because this ain’t a fuckin’ gated community,” Barry scoffed as though it was obvious. The other chuckled in agreement before the conversation picked up and everyone went back to their own thing. You cleared your throat awkwardly once the attention was off of you, not knowing how to respond-- or if you were even supposed to. Barry gave a deep sigh, “Sorry about that, sweetheart. Don’t listen to anything she said, Sherry just hasn’t been doing great since she lost custody of her son. You’re not a fucktoy and I ain’t got no intention of using you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, she’s going through shit and I get it. I shouldn’t stay long anyway, Luke’s fucked off his ass and if I’m gone much longer he’ll flip,” you shrugged, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the cash as you spoke. “I made about $600 this weekend, and I know it’s not as much as it usually is, but someone had already hit up the beach and two of my usual places by the time I was able to start selling. So, I was stuck at Rafe’s party all of last night and only a handful of small pickups on Friday night.” You handed the wad over to Barry with an apologetic wince. “I still have some blow left over, so I’ll try and push a few eight-balls before the weekend. I’m sorry it’s not more.” Barry flicked through the cash quietly as you explained everything to him, before folding it into his pocket once it was all counted. He finished off his beer while looking you over, causing the nervous feeling in your stomach to grow. 

“Sweetheart,” he began with a shockingly gentle sigh, “You ain’t gotta apologize for any of that shit. You’re cleaning up your daddy’s debt because he’s too useless to do it himself, yet you’re not bitter or angry at everyone because of it. I’ve heard of the way you stick by new users throughout the night, making sure they’re using safely and doing okay. You still go to your day job and take care of your brother and his shithead-friends despite being up past dawn most days. You’re doing great, and I don’t ever wanna hear you apologize for thinking you’re not doing enough.” 

Your cheeks flamed and your eyes widened in shock as you spluttered helplessly at the man in front of you. “I wasn’t implying that I wasn’t doing enough! I just know how much my dad owes you, and $600 weekends are gonna take too long to pay it off.”

Barry raised an eyebrow at you before grabbing onto the arm of your chair and tugging you closer to him. You yelped at the sudden movement, bracing yourself for the inevitable collapse of you and your chair. Barry laughed loudly at you when you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the chair tightly, but there was no mirth or mock behind his laugh. Once the chair stopped moving and his laugh slowed to a chuckle, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Relax,” he chuckled, reaching out to move a strand of hair out of your face. “I wasn’t gonna let you fall, just wanted to talk to you better.”

“You could’ve just asked me to move closer,” you grumbled, casting your eyes to the side as your cheeks flushed. “And I told you I can’t stay long to chat.”

Barry gave you a nonchalant shrug, “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, if your daddy’s got an issue with you keeping me company, I’ll just go and have a talk with him. I don’t want you worrying about him when you’ve got enough going on. Stay for a bit, sweetheart. I’ve got a whole cooler full of those Mikes, and you’re the only one I’m allowin’ to drink ‘em. If you really wanna go, I won’t stop you, but I want you to know that I don’t mind you stickin’ around me for a while.”

You bit your lip as you considered Barry’s offer, quietly looking out at the happy party-goers. It was calmer than any Kook party or Boneyard Blowout you had attended, and you had to admit that you loved the calm and welcoming atmosphere. Barry’s warm hand settled over your propped up knee, bringing your attention back to his hopeful eyes. 

“Okay, fine,” you caved and Barry squeezed your knee in delight. “But, you have to go get me a drink. Sherry was right, this chair is comfortable as fuck and I don’t wanna get up.” 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Barry teased and patted your knee before leaving to grab your drink. You stared after him with a bashful smile, unable to help yourself as the nervous feeling in your stomach evolved into flustered butterflies.

‘Shit,’ you groaned to yourself, ‘I’ve got a schoolgirl crush on this motherfucker. I’m so screwed.’

[marvel-movies-bucky-barnes]

Moving Forward

Summary: You are Tony’s sister and in love with Bucky, but Tony still doesn’t trust Bucky post-Winter Soldier

Pairing: Bucky x Laela (reader)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Thor Odinson, Wanda Maximoff,

Warnings: Fluff, some kissing, light spoilers up until Captain America: Civil War, angst, self-doubts, mentions of brainwashing, comforting

Word count: 3,346

Author’s note: This is really my first fic I’ve ever written and posted. Please be kind and enjoy! I am in the process of going through the Marvel movies chronologically for the first time, so I HAVE NOT FINISHED THE MOVIES YET! Please don’t comment spoilers past Spiderman: Homecoming in Marvel’s chronology! I appreciate reposts and comments!

Requests: OPEN

*NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNER*

You would think that a man who had nothing left to lose would be ready to throw himself to the fire. You would think that a simple retrieval mission would be as routine as putting on your shoes before you walk out the door. You would think that spending ten years living under the protection of a hotheaded brother with an egocentric mind would warrant the basic privilege of a release from the iron-fisted grip on your whereabouts.  

According to Natasha, all this thinking is what gets me into trouble with Tony in the first place.

“I don’t understand.” Grabbing Tony’s arm, halfway lifted to the coffee mug balancing precariously on the edge of the counter, I spun him toward me. I knew full well that he could have dug his feet in his tracks if he had wanted to, yet he yielded. “Why will you take me and not him?”

“You know why. And if you weren’t so naïve, maybe you would wake up from this daydream you’re living in and realize that I’m right.” A shadow must have crossed my face—one all too familiar to the team who was lounging against pristine furniture a room over, feigning ignorance to our conversation. As I glanced over my shoulder, a dozen pairs of eyes darted around, immediately finding innate fascination in the stitching of the carpet and the chandelier gently swinging above the banister.  

“Laela—,” Avoiding eye contact, he slid his fingers into the iron hand of his suit, hissing when the cold metal bit into his skin. As if he hadn’t worn it enough times to have the basic instinct of turning on the heater first. Cool granite hit my skin as I hoisted myself up onto the counter. The silence was deafening, or maybe it was the blood roaring through my ears—hot-headed, the only way the Stark family knows—until he finally dropped his head in defeat. “One.”

One pin drop could be heard; one collective breath was held by the rest of the team; one last nerve of his that I was getting on? The possibilities were endless. Biting my tongue, I waited as patiently as could be expected as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he pinched the bridge of his nose.  

“One mission,” he relented, swearing lightly as if he were battling against conscious. “You have one hour to get him ready. Starting now.”

I saw those dozen pairs of eyes burning holes in the back of Tony’s head, mouths hung open like fish out of water. When I glanced past Tony and made eye contact with Steve, his eyebrows shot to his hairline and he motioned me quickly toward the door before Tony could change his mind.  

“One hour!” Tony hollered after me as I backpedaled out of the room, tripping over the leg of Thor’s chair on the way.  

My feet had a mind of their own as they carried me up two flights of stairs and three different hallways before I knocked gently on the heavy oak door next to my own. I had originally picked my room at the far end of the mansion for the view of the coast, the endless stretch of ocean providing a comforting hum of white noise while I slept.  

I like to think Bucky had picked his for the sounds of the ocean as well, though I imagine the rush of the waves works to calm more than his insomnia.

When he didn’t answer, I let myself in. I was shocked, in the beginning, at the stark contrast between his room and the other bedrooms in the house. The walls—completely bare save for the navy paint coating—were shockingly distinct from my own, which were covered in photos and haphazardly hung posters. Walking into his room now, I see how calming the blankness of the walls can be for Bucky, especially if it mirrors what he’d like to feel inside his own mind. A clean slate in his room; peaceful, blank walls. Stillness. The hope that these can be replicated onto himself.  

I can’t help but think back to one of the first nights we shared in this room.  

I had woken up in the middle of the night to a cold bed. Frantically grabbing at the sheets for the familiar touch of a warm hand or even the cold bite of the metal on his arm was futile, and I shot up ramrod straight in our bed to see him leaning against the railing of the balcony, fingers digging into the wood and unclenching, repeatedly.  

It was a sight I had come to be familiar with.  

As it was happening in this moment, I had done nothing more than walk over to him and lean my elbows against the railing and watch the waves, knowing that this was something that I couldn’t fix—something that he hadn’t wanted me to fix. I had made it clear that there was nothing in him that needed to be fixed, but I gave him the space to work through the storm clouds surrounding his head.  

That was all the other needed at times, I believe; someone there to ground us as we battled against our own demons clawing at our heads.  

Tonight, Bucky’s elbows leaned into the railing, the metal biting into the splintering wood. He didn’t seem to notice. His shoulders eased a fraction of an inch as he heard me approach, something that had taken him months to be able to do around anyone.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“HYDRA. Winter Soldier Operative.” A short, clipped response. Unspoken words hung heavy in the balance; thoughts I knew he wouldn’t breach right now. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence—it never was with me and him. Though a hundred questions came bubbling to the surface, I held back. Sparing him a sidelong glance, he shook his head lightly.  

He didn’t want to talk about it. And that was all right.

“I was thinking,” I mused, reaching over to take Bucky’s arm in my hand and tracing the grooves of the metal. “Wouldn’t it be nice to get away? Somewhere the Winter Soldier won’t follow?”

It was naïve thinking, I realized almost immediately. Just as Tony had said (not that I would ever admit to this truth). Naïve to believe that we could escape the mission, if only for a few moments; naïve to believe that Bucky could take himself out of world he had formed through escapism.

“I can’t change the past, doll.” He focused on one point across the ocean while I centered on the dips and divots of the vibranium.  

“No one’s asking you to. But you don’t need to let it define you.” Reaching up, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. It had been blowing in his face for God knows how long; I knew he wouldn’t have bothered to fix it himself any time soon.  

“The Winter Soldier is in the past. HYDRA can’t get to you anymore. This Bucky,” tapping my finger against his heart, I looked up at him, “this James—he’s the man I fell in love with.”

His withering stare finally softened as his shoulders relaxed all the way. Something clicked in him when he heard James—something he only hears from me.

“You’re here because Tony finally released his grip on you, is that it?” he quipped, softening his words by pressing his lips to the top of my head. “I could hear Tony yelling from downstairs, so I had asked JARVIS for the mission update before you came up.”  

“You don’t have to go. You know that; no one would hold it against you.” As he opened his mouth to protest (most likely about how Tony would hold it against him if he had so much as buttered his toast wrong), I gently cut him off with a squeeze of his hand. “I do think it might help get things back on track with Tony, though, Buck.”

“He still doesn’t trust me.” Bucky’s eyes hardened, turning back toward the ocean.

“Prove him wrong.”  

His silence held more than he knew, and he seemed to realize this as he gave a brisk nod and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek before turning to change into his gear.  

_______________________________________________________________________

On the plane, as luck would have it, I had scored the seat between Bucky and Tony, Bucky being across the aisle from Steve, Bruce and Sam as well. He kept up quiet, polite conversation with Bruce and Sam on the way, his hand resting on my knee and his voice soft. While he was distracted, I took the opportunity to nudge Tony in the right direction.

“Talk to him,” I encouraged, pressing on when Tony narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know the first thing about him.”

At his bark of indignation, I cut him a look sharp as glass.  

“You have misjudged him since the moment you met him,” I snapped, fingers curling into a fist. “We are a team. You want me, you get him, too. That’s how this works.”  

Though I had pitched my voice low to avoid the others overhearing, Tony stiffened, and I could sense Wanda attempting to shift the energy of the plane as the rest of the team began stumbling over their words to affect cluelessness about the situation. Five metal fingers tightened lightly over my knee and I laid my hand atop his without breaking eye contact with Tony.  

“Bucky didn’t kill our parents.” A sharp intake—whether from Bucky or from Wanda, I couldn’t be sure—sounded throughout the aircraft. “The Winter Soldier did. HYDRA did. Since coming back, Bucky’s done nothing but try to beg for your forgiveness, your understanding, and you’ve been a brick wall—to him, to Steve, to me. And deep down, I think you’re just scared to admit that you could have been wrong about something.”

My breathing rattled in my lungs.

The metal of Bucky’s fingers clicked together as they pressed into my knee.

A quiet rustle of Thor’s cloak and Natasha spinning a dagger between gloved fingers.

The soft tap of Steve’s shield against the seat of the plane.

One

Two

Three beats of  

A b s o l u t e l y   n o t h i n g.

As I turned back toward Bucky, his metal fingers tapping lightly into the fabric of my jeans, one-two-three, one-two—a grounding tactic he told me he once used at HYDRA’s base—I shook my head, willing to accept that there was nothing I could do for Tony to put his ego aside and take in what I was saying when—

“You’re right.” Tony let out a breath I knew he had probably been holding around Bucky since the Winter Soldier operative. Low enough for only me and Bucky to hear—though he directed his words at me—two words I never thought Bucky would hear from him (whether indirectly or not) fell past his lips. “I’m sorry.”

“James is—Bucky’s —not the Winter Soldier. He’s not the man you’ve painted him out to be. I love him for who he is, not what he has or hasn’t done. He’s done more for this team and for me than you care to notice. Maybe if you’d put your enormous ego aside and have a conversation with him, you would see that.”

Tony’s eyes darted between mine for five—six—seven beats, his lips pressed into a fine line. Five metal fingers continued tapping a pattern onto my thigh. One breath.

“I know you love him.”  

A dozen pairs of eyes bore through Tony with a steel gaze, unabashedly pinning him in place with a single look.  

“Let’s see what he’s got.”

_______________________________________________________________________

I’d normally call a successful mission any time our team made it out alive, though I knew Tony didn’t see it the same way. Today was different—while half the team victory was winning the battle against a terrorist organization set to infiltrate the city, I would say that Bucky and I found our own victory in our small interaction with Tony on the plane.

“I’ve been thinking, Laela,” Bucky murmured from where we lazed across the chair on the veranda. I waited for him to continue and looked up at him, but his gaze wasn’t on me—it was trained on the ocean once more. I knew he was sifting through his thoughts, tangled in a knot from the last twenty-four hours—likely from before then, even. “I’ve been thinking about 1942.”

“The war?” I twisted a strand of his hair that had fallen into his eyes, not wanting to press too much on a sensitive subject. Tucking the strand behind his ear, I met his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Laying my head back down on his chest, I counted five heartbeats before he finally let out a breath.

“Yes. But not now.” His plated fingers brushed against my knee. His fingers tapped a rhythm against my knee—one-two-three, one-two. Grounding himself in reality. “I remember everything detail. About the war, about the HYDRA operative. Going under. Every moment.”

I knew as much, though he rarely talked about it openly like this.  

“Tony stopped me when we came home from the mission.” The tension in his arms wrapped around me vanished on that word—home. “After you had gone up to bed, and I told you I would meet you up there. We started talking—one of the first real conversations I think we’ve ever had. He asked me—”

I waited for him to finish, knowing that whatever he had to say must have been as difficult then as it was now.  

“He asked me about HYDRA. About the Winter Soldier.” As my body tried to jerk toward his, he gently pushed my shoulders back to lay against his chest. “It’s fine. I told him I didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t press—shocking as that is.”  

“Did he ask about anything else?”

“He asked about you,” he admitted. At my baffled expression, he snorted and added, “Relax. He didn’t threaten to murder me and hide my body, if that’s what you’re wondering. He asked about what you said on the plane.”

Racking my brain, I remembered how heated I was toward Tony in the moment.  

“You hadn’t told him that before, had you? That you loved me.”

It wasn’t an accusation, just a question. A statement, really. Still, I felt a flush creep up my neck as I tried to find a point on the horizon to focus on. Bucky knew that I loved him but didn’t always understand why. I hadn’t heard the same from him, and it was fine—honestly.  

I would break off pieces of my own soul to give him, bit by bit, if it would give him some peace, just to let him know how loved he is.  

“Have I ever told you the first memory I have of you? At the HYDRA base, when you and Steve had come to break me out?” Without waiting for an answer, a shaky laugh fell past his lips as he lifted his hand from my shoulder to comb his hair back.  

“You had barreled through the door, right on Steve’s heels. HYDRA had been poking around in my brain, and I didn’t have control of what I was doing. But I was aware of what was going on around me.” His eyes met mine then, and my breath caught in my throat. “Tony was screaming from the sidelines for you to get the hell out of there when those HYDRA agents were about to storm the base. But you grabbed my hand and insisted that you wouldn’t leave me behind.”

His eyes glazed over, shifting his reality to that moment. My fingers tightened against his hands, both flesh and vibranium, letting him know that I wouldn’t leave him behind in this moment, either. Showing what I couldn’t put into words.  

“I hadn’t done anything to prove to you that I could be trusted, and you were willing to lay your life on the line for me. You were the first one to speak to me after returning to the house. Other than Steve, you were the first one to make any effort to get to know me—the real me. James, not Bucky or The Winter Soldier.” His lips curved up in a genuine smile, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and scrunched his nose and brought a pinch of color to his cheeks. Something that he didn’t show a lot. “You were the first one to call me out on my shit. Everyone else was too scared to even approach me.”  

The room was silent now, but a comforting silence, one that wrapped itself around us as we gazed out toward the ocean.

“I know I have a lot to make up for. Not just to Tony and the team, but to you.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he silenced me by pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of love before I met you. The team—I've noticed most of them coming around, too. The other week, Clint was going on a supply run, and he asked me to come with him. I don’t think he had spoken to me more than a handful of times before that.”

“That was all you, Buck. The others are finally starting to see who you are in here,” I brought his vibranium hand in mine to tap against his heart. “Something they should have begun to do a long time ago.”

He settled into the chair on the veranda and pulled me tighter against his chest, his hair brushing against my cheek. I didn’t push it away. We sat like that, wound together in a comfortable silence, until the ocean breeze started to send a chill up my arm.  

“It’s nice,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “Feeling like I’m starting to belong somewhere. Like I have something to live for. Everyone from my past live, back in 1942—they're gone. Aside from Steve. I felt lost, for such a long time. Now it feels like the pieces are starting to fit together again—like I have people who love me in this life. Like I have a family.”

“You do have a family. We will always be there for you, whether you see it or not. And, though they may not say it, they love you. Almost as much as I do.” Laying my hand against his cheek, I gently turned his face to look at me, to recognize my words. I tapped against his heart—one-two-three, one-two. Grounding ourselves.  “I love you, James. For what’s in here. I always will.”

I take it he hadn’t heard those words enough; his eyes lit up, brighter than I had ever seen, and a soft smile slowly spread across his lips.  

“I love you, Laela.”

I’m not sure how long we laid in that chair, watching the tide crash against the rocks, my fingers tracing the grooves of his hand. All I remember is two arms, one flesh, one metal, hook under my legs and back and walk us back to the bed. I remember those same arms encircling me just moments later. I remember Bucky’s breathing slowing to a gentle brush against my neck as his snores softly echoed throughout the room.

I remember waking up before him the next morning and studying every line of his face, every divot of his vibranium arm, taking in every snore that escaped past his lips. I remember feeling love—his for me, and mine for him—all-encompassing in the quiet moments we had shared together.

Looking at him, finally comfortable in his own skin, relaxed in a way I knew he had never felt before, I knew I wouldn’t trade this for the world.