#and now we’re like. significantly closer. and going to be together every second of every day

[priestfrommidnightmass]

DON’T READ IF YOU’RE NOT DOWN WITH MORALLY GRAY DIRTBAGGISH DILEMMAS IN REAL LIFE! but okay. so his girlfriend leaves for the summer for like three months in aboutttt 2-3 weeks? and i graduate soon so i’m kind of debating partnering with one of my friends to throw another party so i can get him wasted again and see how he acts when he’s drunk around me and she’s not around. because if that’s how he was acting with her standing Right beside us i can’t imagine otherwise….

[igotanidea]

Mistletoe: Jason Todd X reader

Christmas bingo day 15: mistletoe

Christmas bingo masterlist

"for the love of –‘’

She really should have seen this coming, right?

***

“Y/n?” she was barely reacting too distracted by what her beloved boyfriend Jason just told her “YN!” her blank face expression made Todd want to shake her a little to bring her back to reality. As for now he was effectively fighting that urge but each second of her acting like a lunatic were putting his patience to a very hard test. “How many fingers do you see?”

“Now that’s mean.” She came to life rolling her eyes at the charades

“Made you get back down to earth.”

“I’m shocked, not hazy.”

“Why?”

“Why?” was he even serious “you want the list on chronological or alphabetical order?”

“Humour me princess.”

“First: you’re attending a Christmas party at the Wayne Manor? You?”

“It’s only for Alfred’s cooking.”

“Mhm. Obviously.” she teased” Second, you are going to wear formal clothes? You?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll like me in a suit, won’t you?” Jason reached for her waist pulling her closer to him and caressing the small of her back.

“I like you best when - “

“Oh, don’t I know that….” He murmured in her ear “we’ll get there too I promise.”

“Jace?” her sudden pulling back took him by surprise and when she raised her head to meet his eyes, the unclear message coming from them made him shiver.

“You don’t want to go?” a few years prior, if someone were to tell him he would actually have a girlfriend and wanted to show her off to his siblings and – well – Bruce- he’ll laugh at that person face. In the darkest times he was on the war path with his adoptive father and even being in the same city was almost unbearable. Not that it was sunshine and roses now, but they definitely worked through some differences and – a real miracle –talked for the first time in years. “It’s okay if you don’t.’ no matter the effort there was no way to hide the tone of disappointment in his voice. “we can spend the Christmas eve together, just the two of us and –“

“No! no, no! Jason. I do want to go. I mean , come on, Wayne Manor. Maybe I’ll finally wrap my head around the fact that my boyfriend is the son of a billionaire and start taking advantage of it.” She laughed happily ruffling his hair, that were calling for a hairdresser, but she loved that unruly shag regardless. “I just wonder-“

“what? You’re chickening out? You already know all of them, guess that eliminates the element of surprise when Dick climbs the chandelier or starts balancing on the chair.”

“Am I reading too much into it?”

“What are you talking about, princess? What’s there to overinterpret – oh!”

“Yeah….” She muttered and looked down, suddenly embarrassed of what she said, cursing herself internally for destroying the atmosphere as his grip weakened and mouth hanged open. “You’re inviting me to an official party. As your official girlfriend….”

“It’s not like they don’t know we’re together. Damn, Y/N, you had no idea how much teasing I had to put up with.”

“What did you to Tim, Jason?”

“Nothing! I swear.” he let go of her completely, much to her irritation, raising hands in surrender. The man build like a tank were trying to protect himself from his significantly smaller girlfriend.

“Jason Peter Todd.”

“Nothing permanent. Now, don’t change the subject.”

“Me? I’m still waiting for your answer.”

“You’re not reading too much into it. I want you there. Officially. Before someone get any stupid ideas of stealing you away from me.”

“Not a change, pretty boy.” She drummed her fingers on his chest, feeling his heartbeat “not when I almost give you a heart attack every time I’m near you. It’s the kind of power you don’t give up easily.”

“You say that now, you power-hungry woman. I’m sure you’d love some more hearts to your collection.”

“I have always been a fan of quality rather than quantity. And so it happens I got the best quality available on the market” she smiled at him lovingly, her pretty eyes sparkling.  

“You’re mine, you little tease” in a blink of an eye he was holding her again, running fingers through her hair and connecting their foreheads, letting himself be vulnerable and wishing she could read his mind and hear the words he was unable to articulate “thank you…”

Thank you for existing.

Thank you for staying by my side.

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for accepting my broken, imperfect love.

***

As every real woman, she had nothing to wear and had to fix some outfit with the old clothes, found at back of the closet, about to feel terribly underdressed.

Or at least that was the plan, before she found neatly wrapped package with her name written across the paper and became a proud owner of the most beautiful and elegant dress she has ever seen.

Turned out Jason had an amazing sense of fashion, picking an outfit serving as a mix of style and quietness.

However, when she asked him about it, the only answer she get was I know what I want to see you in. In Jason’s language it was a sign of care that she won’t feel like an outcast around the female guests, but also a little hint at potential jealousy and protection against possible lustful glances from other men.

Doing a poor job at the second part of it, cause once they entered the manor, all eyes landed on her, leaving Jason gritting his teeth and refusing to leave her alone for even a second. This drove him to such an extreme that he even followed her to the bathroom and was giving responses on her behalf whenever anyone dared to ask her to dance.

“No, of course you can not dance with her. Can’t you see she’s already got a partner, back off, dude.”

Such words were followed by the tightening grip on her hip each time a man gathered enough courage to come too close.

Too close being a couple feet.

“Jason!” she whined at some point “don’t be mean. You don’t dance, you had grown attached to the chair and I'm bored. Come on, just let go off me, it’s not like I’m going to run away from you or anything…” she tried to break free but it was no use, considering both Jason’s strength and possessiveness.

“Sorry, princess. I don’t trust those fops. Can’t risk their hands wondering some place only mine are allowed.”

“But Jay-“

“No one but me dances with you.” He said sternly and much to her surprise dragged her to the dancefloor. What was even bigger shock was that he actually knew how to move. He knew the steps, had a perfect sense of rhythm and definitely did not stump on her feet, not even once, holding her gently, leading her to the music and being delicate and protective, almost making her swoon with the charm.

Apparently, she didn’t know her boyfriend at all.At least not from this side.

He never failed to make her feel safe and loved, but now – encompassed by his arms, held like the most precious person in the world, she felt like a true princess. Something she never experienced before.

“How do you like that, love?” he whispered in her ear, holding her a bit more firmly, causing her heart rate to spike.

“moderately –“

“Then why is your heart racing?” he spun her around perfectly, making sure she was quickly and safely back in his hold.

“It’s not.”

“Well then, it’s about to.” He smirked guiding her a little bit to the right, looking up with the mischievous look in his eyes.

Mistletoe.

“You’re not going to kiss me in the crowd with everyone -“

He was going to.

And most importantly – he actually did.

Luckily she didn’t know that plant wasn’t there earlier and only appeared because of some skilfull vigilante being jealous of the glances thrown her way. Luckily she didn't hear the muffled chuckles coming from the side of the stairs as Dick, Tim and Damian appeared all together out of nowhere, after being gone for a longer while.

She didn't care.

Not as long as she was standing under the mistletoe fulfilling the tradition that came with it with the most wonderful and sneaky bastard if a man there was.

And who couldn't care less about the glances now.

[moonlitmeeks]

THAT WAS SO CUTE sry for spamming - could u write another bbf remus post pretty pls? maybe they’re slow dancing together at a party hosted by the potters? could be smutty if u want <3

-🫶

༉‧₊˚. dance with me? ; remus lupin x reader

summary: after finding you alone at one of the potter’s parties, remus makes an offer you can’t refuse

warnings: tiny alcohol mention (the reader has a glass of champagne), slightly suggestive towards the end, fem!reader

a/n: AGH THANK YOU ANGEL!!! dont ever be sorry for spamming,, i luv seeing these in my inbox sm omgosh?! slow dancing at a party… are u trying to kill me??? hope u like this my love!🫶 ending up being longer than anticipated mwahaha>:)

as the night drew closer to its end, the music began to slow down to match the dwindling energy of the party-goers. the amount of people occupying the dance floor had significantly reduced, many preferring friendly chatter with friends.

the potters were renowned for their parties: euphemia and fleamont were known to be the perfect hosts, and their parties were always filled with love and fun.

tonight was no different.

you made a note to thank james once more for inviting you, even though he’d brushed you off every other time. he’d made a point to assure you that you were here because he wanted you to be, and not just because you were sirius’ sister.

“of course you’d be invited, don’t be stupid.” he’d said with a wave of his hand. “we’re mates, y/n!”

you’d enjoyed every second of it, from the incredible food euphemia had made to the dance circle sirius had forced you to join. now, though, you were enjoying the lull in energy.

remus had found you alone on the dancefloor, nursing a glass that held only a few more mouthfuls of champagne. he had approached you with a soft grin, taking the glass gently from your hand and placing it onto a table not too far away.

“having fun there?” he asked, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“i am,” you smiled, gaze wandering around the room to absorb the atmosphere.

james, sirius, and peter were off dancing in the corner of the room, performing a god awful rendition of some sort of three-way waltz.

remus must have noted the way your eyes lingered on their dancing forms, how you angled your body towards them, almost in a silent plea to join them in their fun.

always attentive to your silent musings, remus wasted no time in extending a hand to you.

“dance with me?”

his question caught you off guard, causing you to flounder for a response for a couple of seconds. remus chuckled at how easy you were to fluster, moving his hand closer to you.

“sirius is too busy trying to figure out how to dip james and pete at the same time to notice us, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“bloody mind-reader,” you mumbled, placing your hand into his larger one.

the corner of his lip quirked into an amused smirk as he pulled you towards him, your chest firmly against his. his hands found their way to your waist, whilst you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“too close?” he hummed.

“not at all.”

despite not being much of a dancer, each step remus took was laced with confidence, something you were definitely going to enquire about at a later date.

your mind was consumed with remus, clutching at every part of him it could. it latched onto the way his fingers pressed into your side, the way his aftershave was light yet intoxicating, the quiet comments he’d mutter just to make you laugh.

the only thing that could shatter that immersion was the fear of sirius noticing you two.

you craned your neck in search of your brother, but were quickly interrupted. remus placed two fingers softly on your jawline, moving you to face him once more with a look of faux exasperation.

“he isn’t looking, y/n,” he chuckled, leaning closer until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “focus on me, yeah? or i’ll have to make sure i’m the only one on your mind.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you gently shoved his chest.

“remus!” you hissed, unable to control the grin forming on your face.

“that’s not a no,” he commented cheekily. “i think padfoot’s more than distracted right now. wouldn’t even notice if we were to disappear for a while.”

“fuck it. let’s go.”

—

🏷️ ; @bluetreecloud20 @milkiangl @tayswiftlovebot @starlit-epiphany @mirclealignr @ladylokilaufeyson5 @bberee @decafcoffew @spideypnk @lushalettascorner

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

perfect now - a close reading

only pure and true love for this one. it’s soft and sweet because the one he wrote it for is and needs cheesy uncool romcom soundtrack-worthy affirmations and it’s the most wonderful thing oh my the flurries 

some album booklet art for your viewing pleasure

((just a warning for below: while the lyric analysis was kept fairly neutral and close to the words and their meaning, more and more parallels did ensure me larrying out by the time the analysis kicked off so if you’re not into that, you can skip this one!))

⟼ check out @bluewinnerangel​ ‘s magnificent post with all the parallels to 1d/h&l bc it’s exhaustive and was a source for mine <3 thank you again for your service <3 bc this song really is a fanpiece of every song that has been important to them throughout their career so far, whether they wrote it or not, and it’s honestly kinda impressive

SUMMARY

you’re sad and i love you so much i will do anything to make that undone but while you’re sad know that i sill very much love you and you’re also strong enough to conquer all of this on your own but i’ll be by your side anyway

lyric breakdown ft. the many parallels, incl. little things, through the dark and wmyb

what this says about louis, his partner and the relationship he is in

never gonna dance again frenzy

identity 

louis is a marvellous majestic sonofabitch basically <3

walls, track 10

～ little things “you still have to squeeze into your jeans, but you’re perfect to me”

You don’t feel pretty and it’s hard to miss

You don’t feel pretty and it’s hard to miss

later lyric: “like a neon sign” - i see through you trying to hide away your insecurities

I wish that you could see my point of view As someone staring back at you

“you” is also staring at him, but perhaps is too insecure to realise how mutual the adoration is

i wish i could get you out of your own negative spiral and give you a look at yourself from my perspective

～ wmyb “everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but you” 

～ wmyb “right now i’m looking at you and i can’t believe you don’t know you’re beautiful”

～ little things “you never love yourself half as much as I love you, and you’ll never treat yourself right darling but I want you to. If I let you know, I’m here for you, maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you”

On Friday night when we’re all out I turn to you and you’re looking down And you don’t wanna dance I know you love to dance You never stop given half the chance

heavy echoes of kmm again, but the opposite: the “nightmare on the dance floor” doesn’t want to dance

when “you” is confident rlly not being subtle with who i think that is, they love to dance <-> tpwk “feeling good in my skin, i just keep on dancing”

“i know you love to dance” = i know what you love bc i love you

“given half the chance” 

～ tpwk “giving/given second chances”

given a chance tattoo, making another appearance (see below for more tattoo meltdowns)

Just keep your head up, love, keep your head up

term of endearment <3 

～ dlibyh

this album is full of encouragement to keep going and as much as it gives me life it ruins me 

Don’t hide away, don’t ever change

“be happy, proud”

～ “just hold on”

“pick someone who’s supportive”

Keep your head up, love, keep your head up Don’t look away, don’t look away

don’t look away from me

～ through the dark “and I can see your head is held in shame”

Cause everybody’s looking at you now, my, oh my

they have the stage to themselves / new career paths they’re doing on their own

could also mean ppl they’re going out with are looking at them, which “you” interprets as sth negative, which makes them self-conscious, while they’re actually admiring them bc they steal the scene

～ wmyb “you’re turning heads when you walk through the door”

I guess some queens don’t need a crown And I know why Even when your tears are falling down Still, somehow, you’re perfect now

“you” is royalty to louis, to put it simply 

they don’t need something on their head to make it known to everyone else - they’re a queen and everyone knows it

gendered: female - also used in drag contexts - the only time L has used any gendered word to identify his partner on the entire album (more on this below)

～ steal my girl "she's been my queen since we were sixteen" can't believe i forgot this one thank you @mortalenemiestolovers for reminding me!!!

～ falling

～ through the dark “you tell me that your tears are here to stay”

You never do, but if you asked me to I’ll tell the truth lying next to you

“you” never asks for affirmations directly, but by saying shit like their pants are too tight make it clear enough to L that they do need to hear once in a while that it’s not true

Cause you’re the only one when it’s said and done You make me feel like being someone 

Good to you even at your worst

～ always you

i love you so much you are a force of life to me, and even when you hate me i want more

～ drag me down “If I didn’t have you there would be nothing left, the shell of a man who could never be his best. If I didn’t have you, I’d never see the sun. You taught me how to be someone” (sung by louis first, harry second) 

～ through the dark “even if you scream and shout, it’ll come back to you and I’ll be here for you

You steal the scene and it’s unrehearsed

reference to working on a stage - their natural presence wins everyone over - that charisma is never manufactured

Don’t you wanna dance? Just a little dance I’ll never stop given half the chance

L keeps encouraging them, will also not pass by any chance to dance with them

Every insecurity, like a neon sign, as bright as day If you knew what you were to me You would never try to hide away

“it’s hard to miss”

L sees through them trying to hide their insecurities, pretend to be strong

～ through the dark “but I know you were only hiding”

SYNTHESIS

Perfect Now is not a fan favorite and I am so not here for that discourse, so please do not pester me with negativity about this chocolate drop of a song. 

As others have pointed out, the parallels with other songs written by Louis, Harry or for One Direction are extremely present. Especially Little Things is echoed loudly, but there’s so much more to be read, as you’ve seen. These are songs that are clearly near and dear to Louis, bc he wrote them or bc performing them was special, like with Little Things and What Makes You Beautiful. A lot of the same emotions come back in Louis’s writing, so much so that you can’t help but see the larger story behind it all. Throughout Walls you can hear him singing about not giving up and holding your head high despite hardships, and if you look back at his earlier writing, it’s always been there. Through the Dark is an early and striking example of this style of Louis song: you’re sad and i love you so much i will do anything to make that undone but while you’re sad know that i sill very much love you and you’re also strong enough to conquer all of this on your own but i’ll be by your side anyway 

basically through the dark’s chorus:

Oh, I will carry you over Fire and water for your love And I will hold you closer Hope your heart is strong enough When the night is coming down on you We will find a way Through the dark

It is very clear that Louis is faced with a partner - I can freely say it’s Harry now right? are the antis gone by now? i think so - that struggles with his body, with his identity, with how he wants to present himself vs how opinions on that might push him down and dampen his spirit. Louis, always the supportive boyfriend, then tries his best to make him see the light, while keeping that space for his sadness, his struggles, or their joint struggles. Accept the sadness but don’t lose your heart to it.

I’ve linked @bluewinnerangel​ ‘s post at the start of this post, but I need to stress how good it is once more as I also shamelessly insert a screenshot from it here bc it makes me feel a lot and summarizes perfectly just how deeply Perfect Now is woven into the history of their lives, relationship and especially “you”s/Harry’s personal struggle with their identity/body/confidence...

Because yes, i absolutely think these tattoos are being echoed in the song. “Never gonna dance again” as a lyric and then as a tattoo on Harry’s legs like shackles around his ankles represents the sensation of shame, of being stuck, bc of your desires, bc of your sexuality. Obviously we can never know why Harry got the tattoo, as in what experience pushed him to choose those lyrics or what exactly he recognizes in himself, but it’s safe to say it’s about the struggles of being queer and navigating relationships with that identity and with others.

Most importantly, the sense of shamelessly dancing, dancing like no one’s watching, dancing together with your lover, as a celebration of self, life, love, is the key here. Harry got that tattoo ages ago, at a time when he undoubtedly felt way more stuck. When he couldn’t dance freely the way he wanted to and with whom he wanted to. Perfect Now is a reminder to him, an encouragement to still dance if he wants to, no matter what people say or think. Significantly, then, Harry’s own Treat People With Kindness heavily features that same sentiment, but in an extremely positive light: i have found a place (in life and in myself) where i feel like i have given and was given second chances and now i dance bc i finally feel good in my skin.

Louis has obviously been there from the start, or at least from when or before Harry properly started experimenting with/questioning how he likes to present and how he identifies as. Before he ever dared to consider pulling on a pair of women’s skinny jeans, never mind a ball gown. Louis has seen him limit himself as well as being limited by others ofc and has always seemed to have been there, with a secure hand on Harry’s back, to encourage him. Even at a time when boys wearing nail polish or skirts was unthinkable. Just remember how much encouragement Harry needed when growing out his hair; Louis literally joined him. yes this might make me cry okay i need to stop bc i’m going off track and this is just becoming a larry breakdown while i was trying to hype up this beautiful song. 

What I’m trying to say is: Louis has always seen all of Harry. He’s always had his back, no matter what. He’s loved every part of him. And now, on a completely gender neutral album, in the sweetest, softest song off of the entire thing, Louis puts in the word “queen”, and that is so very deliberate it makes me want to scream. It’s Louis confirming his love again and again while affirming the multitudes contained by Harry, including everything involving his gender journey. brb crying

It’s a raw Louis, an honest, sweet, kind, loving partner, and both of them are fucking lucky to have each other, and I also wish that all of us end up in a caring and wholesome relationship like that. I truly do.

[buckysgoldenheart]

Just Us

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry is sick and tired of you bringing dates back to your shared apartment, and he has no problem letting you know. So basically, mega jealous Henry, which I am a pathetic sucker for.

Warnings: mentions of sex, lots of cursing. I think that’s it.

Notes: this is kind of similar to another fic I did, and I try not to do that, but I just really felt the need to write this, so I did.

Words: 2732

Henry’s mood turned sour the second you walked through the door with your date in tow. You came in with a bright smile on your face that he returned with a scowl, but you did your best to brush it off. Your roommate acting like an overgrown child every time you brought home a guest was nothing new; you certainly weren’t surprised, and you had no intention of stooping to his level.

“Don’t mind us,” You called to Henry from over your shoulder as you shed your coat and draped it on the hook. “This is James.”

Henry only grunted in response, not looking up from fixing his dinner; peanut butter about to be spread messily on a slice of wheat bread. You rolled your eyes, took James’s coat and led him over to the couch where he smiled sweetly when you invited him to sit and offered him a drink.

Entering the kitchen, you opened the fridge door and pulled out two beers. “So?” You asked, your eyebrow raised as you searched for the bottle opener in the junk drawer. Henry dropped the knife with a clang on the countertop, then turned to you and crossed his arms.

“So, you just thought this was fine,” He asked, his voice dripping with aggravated sarcasm as he shrugged his broad shoulders and frowned. “Just whatever, no big deal?”

You chuckled at the weak argument you’d had at least three times before. You wouldn’t have given him the chance to say anything about your date at all if you knew he wasn’t going to hang on to it the entire night just to explode in the morning for bringing a stranger into his home. Your home too, you would often have to remind him. So, it was your mission to let him get the anger out early in the night. You’d be less likely to have to worry about it later and could focus your attention on the man sitting in your living room rather than Henry’s imminent frustration.

“Henry,” You sighed and took a sip of your beer. “As of right now, it’s just the continuation of an innocent date. We’re going to watch a movie.”

“As of right now?” Henry huffed deeply. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that if it gets a little heated, I promise not to make out with him in front of you, but at this current time, you have little to worry about.”

He sucked in a long breath through his nostrils. “Ok, that’s—”

“And we won’t fuck on our couch. I’ll take him to my room so you don’t have to see anything scarring,” You teased with a wink.

“Ok, enough.”

“And we won’t be loud, I swear.”

“Enough!” He snapped. You quickly whipped your head around the corner to see if James heard, but he was still sitting there, playing with his fingernails as he patiently waited for you like the gentleman he was. When you looked back at Henry, he was practically quaking with anger. “Get that asshole out of my apartment.”

“Um, our apartment. And no thank you.” You smiled and cocked your head to the side as innocently as you could. “I’d like to be having sex tonight.”

“With him?” Henry pointed a long finger in your date’s general direction. The fury in his eyes could’ve stabbed James through the back of his head if the wall weren’t in the way.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously.”

“For fucks sake, Y/N. Have some self-respect.”

Your playful smile instantly dropped, and if you weren’t leaning against the wall, you would’ve stumbled. Henry had said a lot of things before; Hurtful things, things that made you want to slap him, but something about this felt worse. Assuming you were devaluing yourself by wanting to have sex with a man who was sweet, and kind and generous, and million other lovely things men, other than Henry, have never been to you, was like a stab to the gut. Henry was your best friend; you were his. You supported his choices and dreams, and it seemed Henry did the same for you unless it came to this very particular subject. He hated every man you brought around, but bringing them around or getting involved with them did not make you a stupid girl who cannot take care of herself.

“Jesus Henry, stay in your lane, would you?” You said, shaking your head and rubbing at your temple with your free fingers. “I don’t need my best friend giving me shit. Why can’t I bring a guy here without you acting like a complete dick to him and me?”

He stepped closer until you had to look up to meet his glare. “You’re a very smart girl, Y/N. Figure it out,” he growled, then moved around you, but you grabbed his arm before he could escape yet again. Every time, he tried to escape. Every time, he stomped away from you like a grump as if you had some reason to be sorry or ashamed, and you weren’t having it any longer.

“We aren’t children, Henry. I’m not playing this game. If you’ve got a problem with me, say it to my fucking face.”

He stared at you for a long beat, but then shook your hand off him and made his way down the hall, slamming the door to his room once he was inside.

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

James was better than most at kissing you, and you’d kissed your fair share. He knew what you wanted--how you liked things--without you needing to ask, and it was like its own little miracle. There was no fumbling around. His lips were firm and his arms around you were strong. He was confident in his touch on your skin as you straddled his lap, and all of it combined had you a moaning, whimpering mess.

“I wasn’t sure we would actually get to do this,” He said between kisses as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Why?” You lightly chuckled, your fingers skimming down to the little buttons holding his shirt together and easing one open. “I’m certainly having a good time.”

“Believe me sweetheart, I am too, but Superman there looked like he wanted to kick my ass.”

Fucking Superman. That asshole had come out of his room at random, inconvenient times as you and James lightly pawed at one another throughout the movie, and you both could feel Henry’s eyes on you. After the look he gave you the first time he came into the living room, you stopped turning your heads his way when his heavy footsteps thudded against the hardwood.

You made a low humming sound that had James’s cock twitching in his pants, and you moved your head down to peck your lips against his. “Don’t bother with him,” You whispered.

He leaned into the light scratching your nails were giving the side of his scalp, and with a groan, said, “If you say so, babydoll, I won’t give it a second thought.”

“Good.” You smiled, satisfied, then kissed him again but he pulled back barely a minute later.

“It’s just…the way he looks at you.”

“He’s a protective friend.” You snickered and ground your hips down on his a little harder to get him back on track.

He groaned as his fingers dug into your waist, but it didn’t distract him. “No, it’s not only that. It’s like…” His lips pursed trying to find the words. “He looks at you in a way that friends normally do not look at one another.”

“He’s got some weird attitude tonight, ok? It’s nothing.” Grabbing his cheeks, you forced him to look directly at you when you said, “Now keep kissing me before I get too impatient.”

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

At two in the morning, you figured you were safe. You figured there would be a direct and easy path to the front door of your apartment as you let James out with a smile and a goodbye kiss and promises to text one another the next day, though you weren’t sure how much either of you really meant it. And you were right, there was an uninterrupted tiptoeing to the door. It was when you turned back for your bedroom that you realized the path had a roadblock.

Henry stood in front of you, the fumes nearly visibly wafting off him, with the harshest look he had ever directed at you taking over his entire face. It was a disservice to his handsome features and made your stomach twist uneasily.

“Is this for fucking real right now?” He growled so intensely it vibrated in your ears. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”

“Jesus, Henry, you scared me.”

“You actually slept with that guy?”

“Wh—”

“Un-fucking-believable.” Laughing half-heartedly, he ran one of his hands down his face, but that was all it took for the shock to wear off and for your annoyance to set in.

“Ok, I’m done with this. What is your goddamn problem?”

The two of you didn’t fight this way. Not for long anyway, and even so, this time was significantly worse than any other. Outbursts happened for the both of you, snapping, and words you wish you could take back, but Henry was still looking at you the way he had earlier in the night; like you were a reckless child he was losing respect for by the minute, and it broke your heart.

He stared at you as if expecting you to have an answer to your own question, but when you didn’t continue, he shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, and said, “I’m going to a hotel. I can’t be here right now.”

“What? Henry, why?”

His keys were in hand, his phone and wallet tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants, when it finally registered to you that he wasn’t kidding. He was leaving so fast he didn’t care to take anything other than the necessities with him. That’s how much he wanted to get away from you, and you hated it. You never wanted to get away from him.

Light from the hall streamed through the doorway as you finally began to follow after him. You grabbed at his t-shirt when he wouldn’t respond to your repeating calling of his name, and he whipped around fast with a frown down at you. Your mouth kept opening and closing, unsure of what to say.

He sniffed once, thinned his lips, and removed your hand from his body, then as calmly as he had spoken all night, said, “I’m in fucking love with you.”

Then door was slammed behind him, jarring you and leaving you to soak the night in.

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

When he said those words to you, the six words that he would never be able to take back, the ones that irrevocably changed your friendship in the blink of an eye, everything inside of you began to tremble and vibrate and beat with such intensity you could almost feel the functions of your body. Your blood was pumping a hell of a lot faster and you heart was ready to burst.

Your brain, your skin, the nerves and veins under that skin; every bit of you was working overtime to help process what happened and keep you alert as you did so, and maybe it was all a little overkill, but he had said the one thing you never thought you’d hear.

I’m in fucking love with you.

It would repeat over and over in your head, bouncing around the walls of your skull as it tried to find a way to escape, but there was no use. You could never forget his confession, or the way he said it. There was something desperate about it, weak. There was exhaustion, as if he were tired of holding it back and had given up on even trying.

It was too much. You’d never dismiss it, and God, when he got his ass back home you wouldn’t let him brush it aside, but for now, it was too much.

You wanted sleep after sitting completely still for two hours, staring into space. So you carried your body to the closest room, his room, crawled into his bed, and tangled yourself within the sheets until you wouldn’t be able to unwrap yourself without effort you did not possess at such an ungodly hour. You were stuck, trapped, engulfed by him, just like you wanted to be. Then you took his king-sized pillow, massive like his body, and hugged it to your chest, tucking your face in it. It smelled like him, all musky and piney and perfect in a way that always made you dizzy when he would sit a little too close and drape a long arm around your shoulders as you watched tv or read a book.

And you cried yourself to sleep, wishing he was beside you.

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

Henry came back in the morning, though he wasn’t sure how he gathered the courage. Maybe it was the fact that it was you. Just you, his best friend, his roommate. He loved you in more ways than one, and perhaps it was that knowledge that made him a little stronger.

He’d face you, and he’d do it with the intention of making everything clear. He was in love with you and it wasn’t going to change. He loved you as his friend; that wasn’t going to change either, and no way in hell was he going to lose you twice over.

Taking a few deep breaths, Henry unlocked the front door and eased his way inside. You weren’t around the sunlit soaked first floor of the apartment, and when he traipsed upstairs and nudged your door open, you weren’t there either. He wanted you tucked in your bed, not gone and probably terrified at the thought of seeing him, so running to James’s or Jake’s or Jason’s apartment to avoid him. That would be the perfect painful exclamation point on the disaster of his poor decision making.

Then he found you. Not missing, but snug in his bed, warming the mattress with your body as it dipped the slightest under your weight. Everything about the sight killed him and melted his heart simultaneously. There you were, laying peacefully angelic, right where he had wanted you for months. And it looked so beautifully natural.

Not even stopping to think, Henry inched his way to the other side of his bed, lifted the duvet and slid beneath it. He reached an arm around your waist and pulled you close to kiss your forehead, then tucked his face into the crook of your neck. When you stirred, he leaned back to take in your face as your eyebrows scrunched and your lips parted in a yawn.

You didn’t open your eyes but rose a hand, placed it on his cheek, and ran a thumb along the corner of his mouth. As the goosebumps spawned all over his body, he wasn’t even sure you were fully awake, but then you whispered, “It was always you, Henry. Always.”

Henry swallowed hard as your sleepy voice continued.

“I figured you weren’t an option, and I was doing my best working around that.”

After running a hand over your hair and tucking some behind your ear, Henry pressed a kiss to your lips. A short, soft one to see how you’d react. Then you opened your eyes slowly and met your Y/E/C with his blue.

“Do it again,” You said, and so he connected your lips a little firmer, tightening his hold on you, and rolling on his back until your body splayed over his.

You moaned when he caressed his tongue against yours after opening your mouth an inch. Your heart fluttered in your chest the stupid way dramatic, moony-eyed women often described it in novels. You thought it was a myth, the idea that anyone could make you feel so loved just from a kiss, and you’d lost hope for that kind of thing long ago. But Henry ripped your pessimism to shreds in a matter of minutes.

“I want you to be mine,” he mumbled against your lips. “Just mine.”

“Then I’m yours,” You said without hesitation, tilting your head back enough to look in his eyes. You nudged your nose against his. “Just yours.”

---

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[nevertheless-moving]

Invisible Hand Chaos AU x 2

Star Wars Time Travel AU #31

Continuation from HERE

Anakin whirled to face his Master, “Did you know Yoda had a baby?” he asked incredulous and slightly betrayed.

“What? No. Also he could just be another of Yoda’s species. Obviously.” Internally Obi-Wan thought about the still unnamed larva in a hidden aquatic creche, but the Mandalorian’s associate even called him Baby Yoda...

“Unbelievable,” Dooku muttered. “That little green hypocrite.”

“Did you know about this?” Anakin asked the Sith Lord, temporarily forgetting about the fight in favor of the revelation that Yoda might also have a secret family.

“Of course not, the troll never tells anyone anything,” Dooku ranted, deliberately setting aside the fight in favor of unloading decades of suppressed irritation with his former Master.

“I feel we might be jumping to conclusions here-” Obi-Wan offered weakly. 

Anakin scoffed. “He literally just called him Baby Yoda,”

“Loathe as I am to admit it, your apprentice is correct. It would seem the Grandmaster of the order has been keeping some secrets.”

“This is absurd!” Obi-Wan protested as the small child on the balcony above tilted his head curiously, watching the conversation below with interest from the safety of his Buir’s arms. 

“I agree.” Anakin said self-righteously. “If Yoda can have a baby then- then everyone in the order should be allowed a family.”

“Anakin...”

“Anakin, as interesting is this all is, I’m still in somewhat of a bind over here,” the Chancellor called across the hall, irritated and somewhat alarmed by the sudden outbreak of peace in the room.

“We’ll be right with you Chancellor, don’t worry!” Obi-Wan called back. 

“We just need a minute to figure some Jedi business out!” Anakin added. 

“You there- Mandalorian” Dooku called up sharply. 

“...Yeah?” the Besker-clad warrior answered uncertainly.

“What is the parentage of the child in your arms? How did you come to possess him?” The count's question cut through everything else in the room, and the two Jedi held their breath as they waited for the answer.

The Mandalorian pulled Grogu in closer, “He is a foundling. I know his name as my child.”

“Mandalorians,” Obi-Wan and Dooku muttered, Obi-Wan fondly, Dooku with exasperation.

“What?” Anakin asked bewildered.

“The Mandalorian adopted him- hold on a second, I’m going to try something.” Obi-Wan said.

“Mando! Forgive me- Have you already attempted to return your foundling to his people and been denied? If not, we can show you where to find an elder of his kind.”

The Mandalorian stiffened. “I already found one of his people. It took a great deal of time; neither of us knew there were any others left in the galaxy. By the time I met Luke...the child was mine and we would not be parted long. The three of us began traveling together. He acted as mentor to Grogu, though he is too young to be considered the boy’s senior. In time...we decided it would be simpler to raise him as a warrior together. We are one.”

“Oh. How wonderful.” Obi-Wan said weakly. 

Anakin’s brow furrowed furiously and he lowered his voice “Master did I get that right? This guy is really good friend’s with one of Yoda’s people but the friend is not the Child’s biological father and they don’t know anyone else from the species?”

“He actually said he was married to one of one of Yoda’s people but other than that your conclusions are correct. Very good Padawan.” Obi-Wan nodded, attempting to wrap his head around the various implications.

Dooku made a triumphant hum, “Then, by simple inductive reasoning, and in the absence of an alternative candidate, we can assume that the Child is, in-fact, Yoda’s offspring.”

“Exactly!” Anakin agreed with Dooku excitedly. 

“Interesting that he would give the spawn to a Mandalorian, rather than the creche. Embarrassment, perhaps.” the Count mused. 

“Unbelievable.” Anakin agreed indignantly. 

“Ok, now hold on. Foundling is pretty literal most of the time-” Obi-Wan interrupted. “Mando- was the child entrusted to you or did was there a rescuing involved?”

“...I was assigned to find him as part of a bounty, but found the imps who I was supposed to give him to...unpleasant.”

“Imps?” Anakin asked. 

“There you go!” Obi-Wan said, with just a tinge of hysteria. “Yoda didn’t abandon the child- not that it necessarily is Yoda’s child- he was kidnapped.”

Anakin gasped, “Master! We have to save him!”

“Hold on now, Anakin- He seems perfectly safe at this point and we were here for the Chancellor remember?”

“You won’t be leaving here with the Chancellor or the child.” Dooku sneered. “I can sense the force potential- and I am in want of a new apprentice.”

“Over my dead body,” Anakin snarled.

“That can be arranged.”

“Hey Luke-” the Mandalorian said into the comm as the three swordsman began circling one another “-it looks like two of the Jedi are attacking the other- do you want me to get involved?”

“...Din, by any chance, are any of the laser swords red?”

“Yeah, the fanciest dressed one has a red lightsaber, the other guys are blue. Does it matter?”

“...Red lightsaber means not Jedi. I- hold on, I think I see you!”

The three combatants jumped apart again, looking up at the slight comm echo to the sound of footsteps and the absolutely blinding force presence of the approaching Jedi. 

Had he never learned shielding? Obi-Wan thought hysterically. “Or was he just so powerful that he never bothered restraining himself?”

He tried to exchange a glance with Anakin, but his padawan was too focused on straining to see the incoming Master force user of some kind- light, but not necessarily Jedi. He instead looked over at Dooku, shrugging in confusion. Dooku grimaced back at him in solidarity.

The being finally entered. He was- significantly taller and less green than Obi-Wan was expecting, but still probably shorter than anyone else in the room.

“Din- are you two alright?” The soft-faced man asked in a remarkably gently voice, appearance somewhat at odds with the overbearing power he exuded.

“We’re fine, Luke but look! More Jedi!” He gestured below. 

Luke peered over the balcony, eyes growing wide as they passed over the faces of everyone below. “hoLY KRIFF!” He shouted.

The ship shuddered and Obi-Wan glanced nervously out the view ports, suddenly remembered that the damaged ship only had so long before it fell out of orbit.

“Do you know them?” Din asked. 

“Do I- for fuck’s sake Din, I love you but I have literally shown you holopics of my father before.” Luke whispered furiously. The room unfortunately was utterly quiet and remarkably acoustic, meaning his words carried easily to the listeners below.

“FATHER!” Anakin yelled, causing Luke to wince, slapping a gloved hand to his face.

“FATHER!” He repeated loudly, head ping-ponging between Obi-Wan and Dooku as if trying to find a resemblance, before gasping to stare at the Chancellor, before gasping again to squint at Obi-Wan. 

“DOES EVERYONE HAVE A SECRET FAMILY!” He shouted, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Oh for force sake- I do not have a secret son. Honestly, Anakin, he’s clearly in his 20s, be reasonable. His birth would however fit into the timeline of Dooku’s withdraw from the order.” Obi-Wan said, raising a brow.

Dooku puffed out his chest, “I did not fail to meet the Code, like so many of the pathetic masses. Before I left the Order I followed the rules precisely. When my disagreements grew too great, and my attempt for structured reform were repeatedly rejected, I left for ethical reasons, not personal ones. I looked at the code and decided it was failing the Jedi.”

He smirked and lifted his chin at the chancellor, who was watching the proceedings with an inscrutable expression, “My, my Chancellor, this is an interesting surprise.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “We’re not idiots, Dooku. Obviously the boy’s parents were force sensitive, look at him.” 

Dooku’s smirk grew wider.

“This is absurd! Again!” Obi-Wan threw up his arms and lifted his head to address the dark-robed young human, “Hello there, Luke, was it?” 

“Uh, yes. I’m Luke.” The powerhouse responded nervously. 

“My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi-”

“Yes, I know who you are.” Luke responded drily.

Anakin gasped. 

“He is not my son.” Obi-Wan muttered.

“I’m not Obi-Wan’s son.” Luke called down cheerfully.

“Oh.” Anakin slouched, oddly disappointed. He liked this guy for some reason, felt- connected to him. Maybe it was the dark robes, or the force signature that nearly rivaled his own (though it was somewhat lighter), or even the gloved hand that he suspected was mechanical. If he was Obi-Wan’s son than that would make him practically his brother! The Chancellor might be neat but Dooku...ugh.

“Would you be so kind as to tell us whose son you are? I realize its none of my business but you’ve peaked our curiosity. And then afterwards, regardless of your parentage, we would not mind help in rescuing the Chancellor of the Republic from this slowly crashing ship.”

“Right. Right.” Luke nodded. “Would you give me a second?”

He pressed his head to the side of Din’s helmet and started whispering rapidly, to quiet for anyone else to hear. 

The group below exchanged glances, beginning to tense up again. After a few seconds, the Mandalorian nodded and spoke, “Let’s do it. I trust your judgement.” Luke grinned and returned to the edge of the balcony. 

“Ok, I can help with the first, but not the second.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin bristled. “So Dooku is your father.”

Luke smiled at Anakin. “No. You are my father.”

Anakin blinked as Obi-Wan’s face twisted in confusion. “No...” he said slowly. “No, that’s not true. That’s impossible.”

Luke’s smile grew wider, “Search your feelings,” he said urgently, with the full weight of his force presence screaming honesty with every word, “You know it to be true.”

Anakin gasped as he reached out into the force to find...his son. Impossible, but true. The ground trembled, either with the immensity of the realization, or catastrophic engine failure.

“No.” Obi-Wan said clearly to Luke on the balcony.

“No.” He repeated firmly, snapping a finger in Anakin’s face to try and break him out of the trance he seemed to be in. “It’s not true.” He said to the room in general, incredulous it even needed to be said.

Dooku began slowly backing away. The confrontation was rapidly spinning out of his or his Master’s control; he had only stayed this long to indulge vain curiosity. Regardless if the boy was insane, lying, or a time-traveler, he was clearly powerful. The ship’s orbit was gradually decaying and with any luck he could use his dead man’s switch to speed up the crash as he departed, neatly killing everyone who could stand against him in one stroke.

“Anakin,” the lunatic on the balcony continued, “You can destroy the emperor. He has forseen this. It is your destiny! Join me, and together-”

Din cleared his throat.

Luke stopped and smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry! Sorry. Got a little...carried away there.” He coughed awkwardly into his fist.

“Anyway- yeah. I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m from the future, I guess we... time-traveled accidentally somehow? I uh- was kind-of quoting something you said to me once and you kept going along with it and... yeah, definitely got carried away. Sorry, I really don’t know how we got here but, weird stuff happens around me- one time I was on Yavin IV and these ghosts started- anyway. Long story. Surprise!”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ok...I might believe you’re Anakin’s son.”

Dooku had nearly reached a side door when his treacherous Master called out- “Anakin! Master Kenobi! Dooku- he’s getting away.”

Skywalker’s- Anakin Skywalker’s- attention snapped over to the Count and with a outstretched arm, he crumpled the steel door, throwing a beam across it for good measure. The ship moaned alarmingly and several more red lights began blinking at the navigation panel, unnoticed by anyone.

“Luke- son- I don’t know what Emperor you’re talking about, but help us defeat Count Dooku and save Chancellor Palpatine! After that- after that I’m happy to, um, join you? And meet your... husband? And padawan? Sorry, we were kind-of in the middle of something...” 

“Wow. Ok. I’m not sure if-” Luke started to respond before being interrupted by the Mandalorian.

“Wait, Dooku! I know that name!” Din said suddenly. “The covert hated him! He was the evil Sif Emperor you defeated, right?”

“...Sith Emperor. Din, darling and light of my life, as always, your grasp of history and recent current events never fails to amaze me.” Luke sighed.

“You must stop him, before he becomes Emperor,” Palpatine shouted desperately. 

Luke sighed again, more heavily. “Fine. FINE! Kriff the timeline, I didn’t ask to be born anyway. Din- go help capture...Emperor Dooku. Grogu- Pod. I’ll go- free the Chancellor.” The floor beneath them gave a lurch. “Before this ship breaks apart. Go!” 

Luke and Din jumped off the balcony as a shiny metal pod with a transparisteel view screen closed around Grogu, hovering between them, well off easy reach of the ground.

Din landed between Obi-Wan and Anakin, helmet turning to face each of them in turn, “...I’ll follow your lead.” He finally said, arming his weapons.

Obi-Wan grinned fiercely, “Excellent, Anakin, stay with me.”

“I was just about to say the same thing.”

“Mando, you- Is that the DARKSABER- ARE Yoouu- ugh you know what, I will ask after the fight. I will ask after the fight. How did the Mand'alor- NEVERMIND. Let’s just- FORCE I have so many questions-” 

“No time, Master!”

And the battle began. 

[frenchpuppycormier]

HI ZOË!!! angst #16 for that sentence starter post if you're still up for some writing. i love getting my feelings hurt 🤡

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Then why are there bruises all over your face?"

—

Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body.

She waves at every animal she sees on her daily walks and patrols at night. She gives and gives to people without expecting anything in return. When someone is having a bad day or just really needs to talk, she listens, even criminals. Most of them aren't any different than the average person, they simply were dealt the wrong hand. She's extremely loyal and doesn't take anything personally. One time, Kara saved a fly that was trapped in a spider's web.

So yeah, Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body. Which is why today is such an anomaly.

She's in the kitchen still dressed in her navy chinos and baby pink button up with palm trees from when she came home from work. Andrea made her rewrite an article thrice, Jeremy from accounting had broken the copier machine and politely asked for her help in fixing it, she stopped a bank robbery a few blocks down from CatCo when she realized the police wouldn't get there in time, and to top it all off she unwillingly skipped lunch after someone stole her sandwich from the staff fridge.

To say she was exhausted and starving was an understatement. Changing into her pajamas meant she had to walk all the way to the bedroom and Kara was too lazy, even for superspeed.

As she stirs her homemade tomato sauce she taps her phone screen and checks the time. 6:35 pm. Frowning, Kara doesn't see any missed messages or calls from Lena letting her know she's going to be late.

She shrugs to herself and thinks Lena must've gotten caught up in her lab and lost track of time. It happens more often than not, and Kara doesn't think it'll ever change, much to her chagrin. It's bad enough Lena forgets to eat lunch most days, but to continuously forget her phone and watch in her office? Kara knows her wife's a workaholic, but she wasn't aware until now, the fourth night this week, that it was getting this bad.

Kara strains the pasta and cuts the garlic bread while periodically stirring the sauce and checking her phone. She decides to finally turn on some music when the silence of the penthouse becomes too stifling and daunting.

She's in the middle of dancing to ABBA and plating the food when she hears a familiar heartbeat walking down the hall. Kara tries not to listen to it too often—she doesn't want Lena to feel like her privacy has been invaded—but sometimes she can't help it. Her wife's heartbeat is one of the most soothing sounds she's ever heard, and ever since she heard it for the first time, she's just been naturally drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

Kara smiles as she hears it get closer until Lena's opening the door and walking through. "Hey, babe! I'm in the kitchen!" she yells, her energetic voice reverberating throughout the house.

There's no verbal response like there usually is, which is the first warning sign. The second is when Lena walks by—she has to in order to go to their room—it's with quick steps and careful avoidance. But Kara's been able to read her like a book since they've known each other, and she knows something's amiss by the way Lena doesn't even greet her with a kiss. She always does.

"Lena?"

Her wife stops frozen in her tracks, head angled down, hair covering her face like a curtain. Lena's heart ticks up a beat, leaving Kara wildly concerned.

"Lena?" she steps around the island and stands in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbles.

Kara tilts her head to make eye contact, but Lena moves her head so she can't. "Then why won't you let me look at you?"

"It's nothing, I-I'm fine."

"And why does that not convince me?" Kara sighs. Lena doesn't move a muscle and she keeps quiet. "Are you hurt?"

"No." She still shows no signs of moving. It's like she's decided her next career move is becoming one of those marble sculptures at the museum people love to gawk at.

"Lena...you're scaring me." She tentatively reaches out and grasps Lena's fingers, tremendously thankful when she doesn't pull away. If there's one thing her wife is bad at, it's letting people in. But she also knows when she's feeling stressed or overwhelmed that holding her hand relaxes and grounds her. "Please..."

Finally, after standing there in an awkward and probably painful way with the way Lena's neck is positioned, she slowly looks up. Kara audibly gasps when she sees her, and what she sees ignites a fire in her chest and a fury in her eyes. "If you're not hurt, then why are there bruises all over your face?"

"Kara.."

"Lena," she breathes and lifts her hands to gently cup her face, tears pooling in her eyes. Her breathing is significantly more ragged than before, and she mentally takes note of why that is. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," she repeats.

Kara frowns and backs away, crossing her arms. "Who did this to you?"

"Please, Kara. I don't want to make a big deal—"

"Who?" her voice is lower and angrier, sending chills down Lena's back. She grits her teeth, "Lena, tell me who did this to you now, so I can kill them."

"Kara, this isn't you," she reaches forward to calm her down, but Kara starts pacing.

"The hell it isn't!" Kara exclaims, fists clenching at her sides. "My wife was beaten for all I know, and she's acting like it's just another day at the office!" she gestures at Lena, exasperatedly. "How would you expect me to act?"

Lena flinches at her tone.

Kara notices, because she always notices when Lena's in distress, and she deflates. "Lena, you're the love of my life, my person, and when you're hurt I can't help how I act. I'm sorry if I seem like I'm overreacting or if I'm yelling, but it's you." She walks back into her space and places her hands over Lena's face, thumbs lightly grazing her cheekbones, careful not to bump her wounds. "It's you," she whispers.

Lena swallows thickly, and when she speaks her voice is soft and afraid. "It was an accident."

"Did someone do this to you?" Kara's jaw clenches as she lets go. She doesn't stray far though, crossing her arms in front of her chest to try and calm down.

"Kara, no," Lena sighs, tears pooling in her eyes. "I...I did it to myself."

"What?" Kara's arms drop to her sides. "What are you talking about?"

"I was in a board meeting," she clears her throat. "Um...I was presenting a new prototype for...for," Lena shakes her head and frowns tensely. She rubs her eyes with tight fists and with a shaky breath, she cries, "Kara, I—I can't remember!"

Kara steps forward and grasps her hands. "Hey, it's okay. Take your time." She rubs soothing circles over her knuckles with her thumbs.

Lena takes a deep breath and tries again. "I was in a board meeting, and I vaguely recall getting a terrible migraine. Everything after that is fuzzy," she sniffles and takes her hands back to wipe her eyes. "Jess said I fell and hit my head on the table on the way down."

Kara inhales shakily, "What?"

"I had a seizure, I guess," she says it with a slight lilt at the end like it's a question she doesn't want answered. "Uh, it lasted about five minutes until the paramedics arrived. They said I was lucky I wasn't doing something else, like driving. It could've been a lot worse."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't anyone call me?," Kara looks at her with pleading but sorrowful eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"We promised each other, remember?" squeezes her hands. "For better or worse," she says with all the conviction she has. Kara kisses her knuckles and asks, "What did the doctors say?"

Lena sniffles and bows her head. "They ran all these tests on me, but couldn't find anything serious as to why I had a seizure. It could be any number of things, but they can't really do anything for me until I have another one," she looks up at her wife, lips wobbling.

"Kara, I'm scared," she whispers. "This is—" her words catch in her throat, and it's hard for her to breathe. "This is—my mom," she cries hysterically, covering her mouth with her hands, "This is how my mom died, she—she had a seizure while she was in the lake and she drowned. I can't—I can't believe this is—this is happening," she hiccups into another sob.

"Shhh," Kara envelops her in a hug and rubs soothing hands along her back. Lena bawls uncontrollably into her neck, hands gripped tightly to the back of Kara's shirt. "I'm so sorry, Lena," she kisses her on the head and murmurs into her hair, "We're gonna figure this out, I promise."

"What if I have what she had?" Lena questions, voice muffled and watery. "Kara...I don't wanna die," her mind begins to fill with thousands of different scenarios and she spirals into a panic, her whole body shaking, "I don't wanna die, Kara!"

"Honey, no," Kara hugs her tighter, as much as she can without harming her, then pulls back and kisses her on the forehead. She pointedly looks into her eyes when she says, "You're not dying. Okay? Not today, not anytime soon, alright?" Lena's face is red and splotchy. She tries to reign in control of her emotions, and she exhales a shaky breath while managing to give a slight nod. "Good. We'll figure out what's wrong with you, and if we can't do that here, then...we'll go to Argo. Their advances in science are way ahead of Earth's, and if that's not enough then I'll personally travel to other earths or other planets until I find a solution. You're not going anywhere if I have anything to say about it."

"Promise?"

Kara palms the underside of her jaw and rests their foreheads together, Lena's puffs of breath hitting her lips. "I promise," she presses their lips together in a chaste kiss and mumbles, "I love you." Kara kisses her again, "More than anything."

"I love you, too," Lena replies and buries her face in Kara's chest, her arms wrapped around her waist tight and what would be restricting if not for Kara’s invulnerable body. A calming minute passes for them in the aftermath of Lena's breakdown, when Lena quietly asks, "Is something burning?"

Lena feels her wife stiffen in her arms. "Shit!"

She pulls back and raises her eyebrows curiously, an amused glint in her eyes as she asks, "Did you just swear?"

Kara extracts herself from Lena's hold and stutters, "N-no, I said sh-sheet," she fumbles over to the stove and turns off the burner. Kara leans over the pot and frowns at the wreckage.

Lena chuckles with such fondness it's almost like their previous conversation has been forgotten. Kara beams at the sound, one of the reasons she fell in love with Lena in the first place; that girl can make laughter sound like music. Even her out-of-control snort laughs are adorable. At least to Kara's ears.

"There's no point in denying it, love, I heard you loud and clear," Lena smirks and joins her in the kitchen, poking her in the side. Kara squeals and feigns hurting by falling to the floor dramatically.

Lena playfully rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. "Baby, get up, the floor is a mess." Kara easily obeys and jumps to her feet with barely any help from Lena. "I married a weirdo," she shakes her head.

"Do you regret it?"

"Never," Lena states firmly. "You're my weirdo, forever."

"I like the sound of that," Kara blushes. Even after being married for five years, and knowing each other even longer, Lena still possesses the ability to fluster Kara on a daily basis.

"C'mon, let's order Chinese."

"You're speaking my language!" Kara kisses Lena on the nose and watches with pure affection as it scrunches. She grabs the takeout menu from the junk drawer before twining her fingers through Lena's and snuggling with her on the couch.

No matter her diagnosis, not matter the outcome, Lena will be more than okay with Kara by her side.

[sombreboy]

Split↬snakehybrid!pjm

⤍18+ ⤍pairing: snakehybrid!pjm x female reader ⤍genre: pwp smut, hybrid, fluff ⤍word count: 3.9k ⤍warnings: profanity, jimin has a cute hiss/lisp, neither is sub or dom in this but jimin is pretty whiny and soft but so is y/n haha ig they’re just whiny for eachother, blowjob, pussy eating with that dextrous split tongue, light breathplay, Jimin has two BIG cocks im not even sorry for this one, double penetration (yes it anatomically works in this world we’re all monsterfuckers here), double creampie? is it even called creampie in the ass too...Just, a lot of cum, biting, mentions of blood, fluffy ending. A/N: Enjoy this surprise. I know many of you wanted this. I worked really hard on it, so please praise me with your love. As always, thank you for reading my filth. xoxo

“Jimin? What are you doing--”

You were unable to finish your sentence before his pillowy lips found purchase on yours, hungrily devouring your mouth with a newfound aggression that contrasted his normally sweet, gentle behavior. A whimper escaped your throat that the snake hybrid gladly swallowed, a rumbling groan erupting in the core of his chest in response to his favorite sound.

He pulled back momentarily, his hot breath fanning your face as it lingered close. Those intense eyes were staring straight through you like scorching razorblades, pupils shrunk into thin slits of focus. He only had eyes for you, you, you in this very moment-- and there was only one thing he desired. And you knew exactly what it was, and just the thought of what he seemed to have in mind had your body immediately reacting accordingly, heating up several degrees until your skin felt flushed hot.

Jimin was sensitive to changes in temperature, and loved how he was able to trigger your flesh to heat up for him like his own personal source of warmth. But nothing compared to the comforting, maddening heat beneath your skin.

“Baby… You know exactly what I’m doing.” He murmurs against the skin of your jawline, smoothing the button of his nose down your neck until he inhales deeply to take in your scent. You smelled so divine, mixed with his own since he’d claimed you as his mate for the first time. “Wanna play with you.”

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate, your body was already more than ready, responding to his every graceful movement against your body. His hands gently smoothed down your curves, snaking beneath your shirt to caress your stomach while he took advantage of the towering force of his body to guide your steps backwards towards the bed. You complied, naturally submissive to his ministrations as you allowed him to place you on the bed, sitting on the edge with your palms flat on the soft duvet. He stood in front of you, between your spread legs while gazing down at you. He tugs your shirt up and off your torso, tossing it to the floor without even blinking to avoid missing a single second of seeing you.

“You’re so pretty.” You look up at him with admirations swirling in your eyes. Without thinking, your hands settle on his clothed thighs, running them up his firm muscles until you reach the waistline of his pants, curling your fingers around it to gently tug downwards-- signaling that you want to free the hardening bulge from the cage of fabric. “Wanna play with you too.”

Jimin’s forked tongue slipped out his slightly parted lips, swiping them across the delicate, pillowy skin until a layer of his spit served as a natural gloss, only adding to his unfair beauty. His pupils dilated significantly the second you gasp when you visibly see his cocks twitch through the clothing-- always amazed by his hybrid-like assets.

“Yeah, okay... A little-- You know I get impatient…” Jimin wasn’t blessed with patience, often greedy to get straight to the point of what he desired. But the look in your eyes made him want to give you the world. He couldn’t do that, though, but what he could do was to give you himself.

“I know, Jimin. You can’t help it.” He really couldn’t. When he gets excited, he loses control, the predatory part of his hybrid self taking over almost completely. However, that was exactly what you wanted..

You slowly pulled his pants down together with his underwear, flinching when his cocks sprung free in front of your face. You’re practically foaming at the mouth already, seeing how the swollen tips are glistening with beads of precum, waiting for you to indulge in his sinful flesh. So you did, grasping both in your hands, slowly stroking them from the get go with little to no patience yourself.

He was already hard in your hands, the velvety skin radiating heat. Jimin whined quietly in annoyance, rutting his hips forward to press his girths closer to your mouth-- you got the hint. You parted your lips, taking one of his cocks into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head before diving forward to take it all. You’ve done it countless times before, but every single time the tip of his turgid length prodded the back of your throat, he moans out loud. It’s one of his favorite things, how you’re able to take him so deep until there’s no more space for him to keep pushing.

“Fuck, that feels good, baby... “ Jimin’s tongue lisps lightly around the ‘S’, hissing out his cursed praises. His free hand grasps his untouched cock beneath the one currently buried down your throat, stroking himself simultaneously to the rhythm you quickly found as you sucked him off. His other hand strokes your hair, his delicate, ring-clad fingers brushing your curls behind your ears to see your face better. His hips begin to rut forward to meet your mouths as it comes down on him, watching your lips stretch around his girth with every drag back and forth, back and forth, the skin of his length wetter with each repeated action.

The praise has your cheeks rosy, beaming with pride at how easily he was falling apart just because of your mouth. However, his faux submission didn’t last long until he decided it was your turn to crumble beneath him. He gently grasped your hair into his fist, pulling you back until his length is stripped from the warmth of your wet mouth, a thick string of saliva dripping down your chin.

You look up at him once more, this time feeling your cunt throb when you make eye contact with the predatory stare that came from above, tunnel visioned on you, and you only. He never lied to you when he said his patience was practically nonexistent.

“That’s enough, baby. Take your clothess off…” he lisps endearingly, biting down on his lower lip when you don’t waste time to obey his commands. Your shirt was already off with his assistance, and you threw the bra to join the fabrics on the floor. Laying down on your back, you wiggle your hips while pulling down your pants, eyes never wavering from his. Your snake-like movements mesmerized even him. The prey taunted the predator.

“Moving like that, you drive me crazy… sshit..” Jimin groans, his hand stroking both cocks to the view below him of you stripping down to just your panties. You lift your legs up, taking off the pants completely to toss them away into any direction-- it didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was how riled up Jimin was while watching you, his wet cocks gliding against one another as he kept them in his firm grasp, slick sounds striking the room. His hissing got louder between grunts, and eventually he whines when he stops touching himself, instead coaxing you to move up towards the headboard of the bed to give him space to crawl between your spread legs, still hidden by the thin, soaked panties that you intentionally left on, knowing he loved to see the cotton stick to your cunt like a second layer of skin.

“J-Jimin…” You whine when he leans in between your legs, his hot breath fanning your clothed pussy as his darkened gaze flickers up to meet yours. His lips tug into a teasing smirk, showcasing his pointed fangs that you were so fond of-- for various reasons. His split tongue snakes out from his parted lips, giving your wet panties a long, slow drag from the bottom up to your clit. His moan vibrates in his chest at how he could taste and smell you through his taste buds, the sweet and tangy essence he couldn’t wait to soak his tongue in.

“Lovely.” Jimin praised yet again, smoothing the pads of his finger down your slit, feeling the heated skin beneath the panties. He slowly stroked his fingers up and down a few times before tugging at the thin fabrics, catching it between his fangs to rip it off with one smooth motion of his razor sharp teeth. You exhale audibly at the sight, hands curling up against the sheets to grab a fistful in anticipation-- you know exactly what you’re in for, and just knowing had your body shuddering from the thrill. Only one man could make you feel this riled up with so little, he hadn’t even begun to properly play with you.. yet. 

“P-please, it’s torture…” You whine, knowing all too well which ones of his buttons to push. Begging, whining-- he’d be a puddle that obliged to your wishes within a heartbeat, playing it off as his own greed. He’s domineering, and thrives through the power he possesses over you, sure-- but that didn’t mean he was immune to your pleading, sweet voice. It drove him mad, and if patience could go minus on a scale, his was dropping with every shaky breath that escaped your lips.

“Now who’s impatient..” Jimin teased, giving in to your pleas nonetheless. He understood the feeling better than anybody, and he saw no reason in dragging out the torture any longer than necessary, for the sake of you both. He gets comfortable between your legs, properly situated to finally allow his pillowy lips to kiss your clit softly, drawing another breathy whimper from your pretty throat, watching your chest shudder. He lets his split tongue slip past his parted lips, licking up the wet arousal that had seeped from your cunt, his hot breath hitting your skin as he exhales in rapture. He loved eating you out, and it was of no surprise that you loved it just as much-- his tongue was skilled, and perfectly shaped to give it a unique feeling compared to what a normal, human tongue could do.

Jimin said nothing from then on, but simply allowed his ministrations to speak for him. His dexterous tongue lapped at your dripping entrance, slowly, but not too slow to make it unbearable. He licked upwards stripes, his own drool mixing with the continuous essence that leaked out with every sweet constriction he coaxed from you when his moans vibrated against your pussy.

“You taste sso good, baby.” He sighs blissfully, inching even closer. The wet sounds his mouth made was sinful, alternating between licking and sucking lightly with his plushy, glossy lips. You were squirming above him, arching your back as your hands searched for his golden locks, tangling your fingers into his roots before tugging, pushing him closer to your core for more friction.

“H-harder-- make me cum, Jimin, ah…” You whimper, gritting your teeth in frustration-- you wanted more, more, more, greedy for him to please you further. He whines when you tug at his hair, but allowed you either way to control him. His lips found your clit, sucking at it tastefully, swirling his forked tongue around it to properly give you the attention you craved. His hands were tightly grabbing at your thighs, keeping your moving body in place as he picked up the pace when you kept tugging at his roots, spurring the aggression in him. The pain you caused him made him go harder-- so you closed your fist, pulling harder, and as you anticipated, his mouth treated you rougher.

“G-god, yes-- just like that, so good, I’ll c-cum.. Fuc-k!” Your throaty moans were like music to his ears, but he could only hear the muffled version of it as your fleshy thighs were pinning him in place, pushing against his ears. He could practically hear your heartbeat in your thighs, the warmth comforting and maddening to his senses, your throbbing, swollen clit impossibly hard in his mouth as he kept abusing it with his tongue. He rutted against the bed, his cocks leaking profusely with precum from how desperate you were to cum-- and it made him feel the desperation right on his tongue, both tasting and smelling your impending orgasm.

Your harsh grasp in his blonde curls didn’t cease, but increased the second his wet, skilled tongue flicked over your clit harder, coaxing your orgasm more and more until finally, it hits you like a tidal wave, drowning you in blinding rapture. Your back arched, your insides pulsating in a rhythmical pattern, every throb causing your body to twitch, and your silent cries only came out as gasps. Jimin pulled through, unable to breathe for a mere few seconds, still keeping his split tongue wrapped around your clit, feeling the way it pulsated against his lips. His muffled moan was more than enough for you to know he loved this just as much, but the moment he tapped your thigh you quickly let go of him so he could pull back and gasp for air.

“Ah, I’m s-sorry…” You half laugh, half whine, your dewy skin glistening with sweat, chest moving up and down with every shaky, heavy breath. You look down at his black stare, admiring you as if you were his entire universe. And to him, you are, no doubt.

“Don’t be. I loved it-- sso pretty... Sso hot…” Jimin huffed, giving your soaked entrance one last lick, gathering your essence on his tongue before slipping his tongue back into his mouth, savoring the taste. “Mmm...  You’re sso delicious, baby.”

“Gah.. D-don’t say that, it’s embarrassing.” You hid your face in your palms, face flushed with embarrassment and the lingering arousal in your body. You felt him get up from his position, crawling on top of your body to kiss your hands that covered your face. Slowly, you removed them to peek at him, only to see his pearly, sharp smile, eyes squinted into the most beautiful crescent moons.

“You’re too cute. How can you act so innocent after using my mouth like that?” Jimin cooed, leaning back in to kiss your lips. It tasted like you, but you didn’t mind-- because it was living proof that he’d just indulged in his favorite treat.

Well, one of his favorite treats.

Jimin sat back up on his knees, his cocks standing tall and needy for any attention whatsoever at this point. He’d been so patient after all, putting effort into making you feel so good. Now that you’re soaked, both his mouth and swollen heads of his lengths were dripping with desperation to finally fuck you.

“Baby?” Jimin’s soothing voice was like a siren’s song, impossible to ignore-- absolutely impossible to say no to.

“Yes?”

“Ride me, please?” His eyelashes fluttered, flirting his way through your heart to get what he desired. And it worked--- obviously. He wouldn’t even have to ask this nicely. He treated you well, so you wanted to give it right back.

You nod, moving to the side to let him take your previous place, laying on his back. He propped himself up a little with a few pillows, reaching for your body with a pout when he felt cold without the warmth that is you.

“You’re still the more impatient one.” You giggle as you straddle him, lifting your hips up above his cock. He watched with wide eyes, nodding in agreement to whatever you said at this point-- all he could think about was to fill you up.

“Yeah, yeah.” He murmured, guiding your hips down slowly to sink down on one of his cocks, the other left untouched, sandwiched between the fleshy cheeks of your ass. His cocks were wet, easily providing a pleasant glide against your skin.

“I really want to be able to fill you with both this time…” Jimin confessed while he swallowed tightly, fangs clamping down on his lower lip as he pushed you down further to take his entire length in your warm insides. His cocks throbbed, one in you and one against your ass, a heavy exhale slipped past his lips in bliss. “So fuckin’ goood to me, shit… Rock your hipss, baby, use me.”

“God, you’re so pretty Jimin…” You praised him right back, feeling his cock pulsate with every sweet word coming from you. He loved it when you called him pretty in various ways. Rocking your hips back and forth, his cock grinds deeply inside of you, causing yourself to moan from using him to please yourself. “And s-so big, fuck..”

“I know.” Jimin crooked a playful eyebrow at you, but just as quickly his shit eating grin was wiped off when you spit in your palm, hand snaked behind your back to stroke the cock that wasn’t already wrapped in your heat. “Ahh, yes.. Touch it-- touch it more…” He whined, his hands grabbing your thighs to coax you to rock your hips harder. You did so, all while teasing the wet head of his free length.

“Want to fill both my holes with your pretty cocks, Jimin?” You said sweetly, already knowing the answer. His hips bucked upwards in response, his hissed curses spurring your growing confidence. You slowed your movements, guiding the drenched tip to prod at your ass. Slowly, you teased your tight rim until you could comfortably slip it inside, carefully allowing him to fill you up to the brim with both of his blessed, turgid lengths. You gasped again, overwhelmed by how full you felt, so complete.. “O-oh my god....”

“Yes, yeah, fuck yess..” Jimin screwed his eyes shut for a moment, stilling his movements for your sake, wanting you to decide when it’s time to move. He knew it’d be a lot, and he’s so proud of you for taking both his cocks at once-- such a fucking good girl for him. “Tight, isn’t it? Take it easy..”

“Yeah, you’re big, Jimin…Unf..” You place your palms flat down on his toned abdomen, breathing steadily to relax your muscles. The two of you truly felt each other then, his flesh filling you up in such a completing way that he’d never done before. Your warm insides hugging him snugly, comforting him in every sense of the word-- he felt at ease, like this is where he belonged all along. 

You began to move when you felt ready, grinding your hips against him, feeling the twitching of his needy cocks inside of you with every movement-- not a single moment went unnoticed by him, every breath and whine that slipped past your lips was pure bliss. You picked up the pace a bit, rocking faster on him, growing greedier with every low curse, hiss and moan that pushed past his bit swollen lips, his blunt nails digging into your thighs.

“D-don’t go too fast, I’ll cum…” He whined, licking his sharp fangs as he stared at the way your body jiggled on top of him. His hips rutted upwards, changing the rocking motion into an up and down bounce, causing you to moan out in pleasure when his cocks abused the thin wall of flesh separating his lengths, grinding against one another.

“M-maybe I want you to..” You breathe out, your voice nowhere as coy as you had imagined it to be-- it was impossible to tease when he brushed against every inch of your sensitive insides, the sweet stretch driving you mad. But on the other hand, you could tell he’s the one who was falling apart underneath you, the common tick of his where he continuously swiped his tongue over his sharp fangs, a known quirk of his when he’s desperately trying to control his impending orgasm by feeling the sting of his teeth. “Want you to fill me up so well. Help me, fuck me harder. I c-can’t by myself.”

“Mhm.” Jimin’s nails had dragged down your thighs countless times at this point, coaxing red welts to form in his rake. He smoothed his palms up your body, digging his digits into your hips to get a proper hold of you, aiding in your bouncing motion, allowing you to plunge down on his cocks harder to meet his bucking hips, forcing the slapping sound of skin to skin to grow more prominent in the room. “Oh, baby, I swear… I’ll cum, ah…”

Those few, sweet words spoken in his lustful, canary voice was all you needed to feel a rush of energy pump through your veins, adamant to make him cum just as good as he made you. Your fingers curled on the skin of his stomach, light scratches forming on his milky tone as you bounced on his cocks harder, faster, deeper-- the shameless wet smacking sounds driving you both towards lustful madness. His split tongue continuously swiped over his teeth, lips, biting down hard on his pillowy, delicate skin. His teeth itched to bite down on something, the scorching heat pooling in his abdomen creeping up on him faster than ever before.

“B-baby-- Wanna bite.” Jimin pleaded, but it wasn’t a command. The biting wasn’t your favorite, he knew this, but he felt desperate. It was his way of marking you, claiming you-- to show you he loved you and you only during a time like this. “I promise I’ll be g-gentle, please.. I’m cumming, fuc-k!”

You didn’t hesitate, wordlessly leaning forward to offer him your neck, all while his tight grasp moved to your ass, forcing you down over and over on his lengths. His lips immediately kiss down your neck, searching for his favorite spot in the slope where your neck meets your shoulder. His lips curl up as his fangs came into view, not wasting a second of this given opportunity to let them sink into your soft skin. Your body tensed up, holes constricting around his lengths, just the way he anticipated--and had hoped for. He kept fucking up into you, hissing as his razor-like fangs chomp down your neck, savoring the throaty cries that pushed past your lips.

“O-oh, ow, shit-- fuck! Jimin, ahh… F-feels good.” You reassured him, knowing that although his primal instincts took over the second his fangs bit into you, one of his hands soothingly ran up and down your waist as the other remained tight, fucking you down on him. However, it only took a few more punishing thrusts before he pushed you down once more, but this time keeping you still, emptying himself into both of your holes. His body tensed up, hips stuttering as he hissed out, lips curled up as he bit down harder. This is where he’s the most lost in his hybrid part of himself, mating you like it’s the first time, although it’s far from it.

“D-doing so well, Jimin…” You praised as you felt his body relax slowly, cocks pulsating as hot cum gushed out into the tight space, already seeping out from the lack of anywhere else to go. His hands is the first indication that he’d come back down to reality, smoothing down your back and pulling you close to his body. Lastly, he unhinged his jaw and let go, licking his bloody fangs clean before holding you close, still lodged deep inside of you with no intention of removing you from this position just yet.

“Thank you, baby.” Jimin stroked your back, nuzzling his nose into your hair to coax you to look up at him. When you did, he smiled. The familiar, pearly smile that caused his eyes to form into this lovely squint that had your heart fluttering. “I love you.”

This man was really made out of sugar, spice and everything nice.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[bokettochild]

Ooh for a fluff piece you should do Hyrule and Warriors and something with claustrophobia (although that has the potential for angst real fast so feel free to ignore me)

Oops, I think my hand slipped.....

(Sorry I didn't get to this for so long, I've been crazy busy and wasn't sure how to approach writing angst until people apparently started crying at my attempt at crack :)

Glass.

Glass walls and a glass floor. A cork ceiling and too little air, too little space to breathe, too little space to function.

Hyrule’s breath hitches again with a silent whimper, his glow fading slowly with every second spent inside of his prison. Outside, he can hear the reverberating shouts of the others, fear and worry in their voices as they call out, likely shouting for him, looking and worrying and screaming in concern.

‘I’m right here!’ He wants to call back, wants to wail to the glass walls that press closer and closer around him. ‘Guys, I’m here, let me out!’ But they won’t hear. They won’t hear his tiny voice, especially not when it’s trapped inside this glass prison.

“Any sign?” The vet’s voice is strained and desperate, violet eyes flickering with fear as they dart from one tired Hero of Courage to another. “He’s got to be here somewhere!”

“Nothing.” There are tears in Sky’s eyes, and even if he’s clearly trying to be strong for the others there’s a heavy slump to his shoulders as if the weight of all of their problems hangs from them. “Twilight and I looked all over, his trail just...ends...”

“He’s got to be somewhere!” Wind protests, voice breaking and fists clenching as the sailor looks over each of them, fear and worry in the kid’s eyes as he stubbornly denies the report Twilight gently gives the rest of them.

It’s not a pretty sight.

Hyrule had only wandered off for a minute while they’d all freshened up in the stream near their camp, but that was all the time needed for him to disappear, tracks ending suddenly and no sign of him, not even a droplet of blood or a broken blade of grass left behind for them to track him with. It was Four who noticed, and while jokes and laughter had sounded as they all teased each other about the Traveler getting lost, the jokes had faded when Twilight had come back, eyes shining with worry as he informed them of Hyrule’s lack of a trail.

All mirth had died then, and eight dripping heroes had abandoned all save their weapons to search for their brother. Their cheeks redden in the cooling night air, Four sneezing occasionally as he pulls his tunic over his head while they speak. None of the others bother, standing about in all states of dress as they consider what to do.

“We’ve searched everything within two miles.” Wild murmurs pensively. “And there’s only one trail, even Hyrule can’t cover his tracks so well that Twilight can’t find him.”

“But I can’t find him, Cub.” Twilight’s voice is almost a whine, eyes pained as the rancher sits with his head in his hands. “There’s no signs! It’s like he just, vanished!”

Time’s heavy hand comes to rest on his protégé's shoulders, rubbing gently over them in an attempt at comfort that Twilight shows no interest in accepting.

They’re worn, Warriors sighs to himself. His brothers have been pushing themselves for weeks and today was meant to be a day of rest and rejuvenation beside the river. But here they sit, worry carving lines across the faces of even their youngest, shoulders drawn up close to ears or slumped in resignation. It’s been hours, Hyrule should be back by now.

Sky’s tired gaze meets his own over the heads of the younger heroes, there’s determination fighting against reassignment inside of sapphire blue, but Sky forces a weak smile for his sake, silent words passing between the two before both nod in finality. “There’s no sign-”

“We know that Sky!” The vet snaps, hands buried in his still dripping hair. “Twilight, you have your things, right?” The vet asks pointedly, breath hitching and coming in short little bursts as he looks up to the rancher.

Twilight nods, dropping one hand to tug at something hidden under his collar “Yeah.”

“Does Hyrule has any items that let him fly? Oh Nayru! I should have asked him!” The vet’s panicking now, and it’s agitating the younger heroes as his feet tap nervously at the ground, hands shaking as they run repeatedly through his bangs and tap against his thighs.

Wind’s worrying at the hem of his tunic and Wild scratches at his scars, and Warriors has no doubt that if Four wasn’t shivering and wrapping himself in his arms that the smithy would also be fidgeting nervously.

Sky sighs heavily, grabbing his sailcloth from the ground and wrapping it around the smithy’s shoulders carefully. “Like I said, there’s no sign so far. But we have to trust in Hyrule’s abilities. The traveler’s a tough egg, he doesn’t break easily and he knows what he’s doing in a forest, especially a dangerous one.” The Skyloftian shoots Legend a pointed glance, cutting off the young veteran before he can start fussing again. “It’s getting dark and we won’t be able to see, and if we’re too loud and keep disturbing the forest, we’ll only alert any monsters that might be around here to our presence. We’ll make camp here for the night and keep looking in the morning, after everyone has a warm meal.”

“He’s out there!” Legend insists.

“And he’s strong. I can’t help Hyrule right now, none of us can, not in this darkness. But I can make sure you all rest and get something to eat.” Sky’s voice gentles as he lays a hand on Legend’s bare shoulder. “We’ll find him, Bun, have a little faith in the traveler.”

The vet looks instants away from protesting, from shouting something harsh that he probably doesn’t mean. He’s worried, they all are, but Legend responds worst of all of them to injury or illness, and his protégé going missing doesn’t seem to be an exception.

It’s Time’s voice that cuts through the tension, face stern as he meets the veteran’s eyes.  “Rest. We’re no good to Hyrule if we can’t walk a straight line. Cub,” Wild’s ears prick forwards, attentive and eager for orders. The little soldier shows his training, even though he might not remember it; eager for a task to complete to distract from the tension, needing a job to focus on instead of his own spiraling thoughts. It draws a tiny smile to Warriors’ face as he watches. “Could you mix up something warm for everyone? We’ll eat and head to bed, Sky and I can take first watch, Warriors and Wild will have second,” Always best to put the two war heroes together on second watch, less chance of waking the others with their nightmares. “And Twilight and Four can take second.”

Again, Legend looks like he might protest, but their leader fixes him with a stern look. “Vet, try to sleep, please.”

Little chance of that, he muses, watching as the vet huffs and kicks at the dirt, Legend’s a worrier, even if he would never admit it, and if anyone’s going to be up all night long fussing and fidgeting, it’ll be him. What Warriors wouldn’t give to pull Ravio along just this once so that the merchant can calm their friend, he doesn’t know how he does it, but Ravio and Hyrule both have a magic touch when dealing with the ornery teenager.

“Help me get Four settled.” Sky nudges Legend’s shoulder gently. “But get dressed first.”

Tasks. That’s right, give everyone something to do to take their mind off of worrying and running wild with imaginings that will only fuel anxiety and nightmares.

“Wind,” The sailor turns to him with pinched brows, but the kid calms significantly at the sound of his captain voice. “How about you and Twilight gather some wood for a fire? Time, will you scout the borders with me while the others prep camp?”

Mentor and protégé both nod; taking the orders that come easily to his mind, the rancher pulling on his wolf pelt and melting into the forest with Wind at his heels, and Time grabbing his sword and shield and coming to follow at his side.

“Thanks for stepping up.” The older man hums, gaze strained but warm as he offers a small quirk of the lips. “You and Sky both.”

He claps the other man on the shoulder, thankful in part that Time hasn’t donned his heavy armor, thus allowing him to avoid destroying his knuckles. “That’s my job, Sprout. Besides, you had your hands full with a sad puppy.”

Time shakes his head with a soft chuckle, but Warriors counts it as a win.

If Legend was bad the night Hyrule went missing, he’s terrible when the portal sweeps over them midway through their attempts to find his protégé, and the vet’s full-on panicking once they’ve all stopped feeling woozy and sick. He’s not the only one; Wind is almost crying, the poor kids so overwhelmed, and Wild’s agitated behavior has spiked to a full blown manic as he investigates the land around them.

It’s all the three eldest heroes can do to try and keep the younger ones calm, and while Twilight tags along with Wild to scout the area, Time bundles up a shivering and sneezing Four into his arms with a soft hum, hands dragging through the smithy’s long hair carefully.

“Cold?” He calls over to the two.

Time nods. “Probably.”

They should have taken more care to dry off before starting their search.

While Sky attempts to calm Legend, simultaneously holding Wind close to himself and offering one of his Big Brother Hugs to the sailor, Warriors takes care to check their things over and make sure nothing has been left behind.

Wild’s things are nearly always in his slate. Twilight and Time have their bags on hand, but the younger ones and Sky all have plenty to ensure is still in order, and he makes extra sure to check that the potions and fairies they have are all in order and that the bottle haven’t broken during the tumbling of the switch.

There’s light again.

Hyrule whimpers as it floods over him, tucking himself closer to the base of the bottle as large hands rummage around.

His glass prison tilts and swings, but the traveler can only tumble around within, pained hisses escaping him as he fights nausea that he can only assume is from some kind of switch.

It’s Warriors’ blue gloved hand that has his bottle, and hope flutters softly alongside iridescent wings as Hyrule silently prays that the captain will open it. They’ve been looking for him, right? Maybe Warriors figured out his mistake! Maybe he realized that Hyrule isn’t your average healing fairy and has decided to let him go again!

Oh, please let it be so! He won’t burn the captain’s bug-net after all if the man will just let him out!!!

The bottle settles again, and a blue gloved hand withdraws, leaving Hyrule lying on the floor of his bottle, the glass walls and stuffy air of the bag pressing in around him as another miserable whimper escapes him.

The bag he’s trapped in is flipped closed, and he’s plunged again into darkness.

Someone get a fairy!” Legend shrieks, the vet’s panic over the last few hours heightened as his blood soaked hands press against the wound in Time’s side.

Twilight’s face is pale from where he sits supporting his mentor’s head, blood splattering his face and Time’s own as the older man chokes and wheezes, blood bubbling up from between his lips as Legend and Four both work like mad-men to try and tend their leader’s wounds.

It was a freak attack. No one saw it coming, not with how out of it they all were, and there was no time to stop it when the hinox had come rumbling through the forest with ‘blins scurrying about at its feet.

As per Legend and Warriors’ instructions, the heroes had worked to bring down the smaller enemies first, slashing and skewering while the black blood of their enemies gushed out over their blades and darting forms. The ‘blins are hard to beat, as are all the black blooded monsters, but it's become a struggle they’re accustomed too, and the heroes each dart in and out of the battle with the sort of grace of people that are accustomed to battling together and against dangers of all sort.

There’s a flaw in the system though, as they’re short one member, and while Legend and Hyrule usually fight back-to-back, with Four and Wind close at hand, the traveler is gone, and it throws off his battle partners considerably.

Time was only just in time to prevent Wind and Legend both from being axed, but the wound l=that gushes blood from his side now had been the price.

“Fairy!” Four shouts out again. “Now!”

He blinks awake, the blurriness of his vision fogging his mind too, but not so much that he doesn’t register the request this time. Gloved hands fumble with the buckles of his bag, and he’s sweating and breathing harshly with worry as he rips the straps aside and grabs the first bottle he sees. Red liquid glitters back at him and he huffs a grunt out, handing it off to Wind and digging back into his bag.

Thank Hylia he and Four had gone fairy hunting in the last world they’d been in, he’s only got the one fairy, but it should be enough.

Faint pink glimmers in his jar, no longer bright and flittering, but he has to pray it’ll be enough to save Time. His fingers scrabble for the cork, tears pricking at his eyes and burning as he does his best to force them back.

Help Time.

Calm the others.

Break down and cry later.

The cork pops free, and the fairy bumbles sluggishly towards the mouth of the jar.

“Help!” He wheezes, glancing at where Legend and Four have started preforming CPR as tears stream openly down Twilight’s face, the rancher clutching his mentor’s hand tight enough to break bones as he watches the two replacement healers attempt to preserve the ever-fading breath of the man in his arms.

The fairy's wings flit softly as it launches from the mouth of the jar. Its path is sluggish and crooked, but soft glimmering dust flutters from its wings all the same, sprinkling over the gushing wound and slowing the flow of blood. Four leans back to spit out some blood that’s bubbled up into his mouth while he was pushing air into their leader’s lungs, and a stuttering cough breaks the frenzied silence as Time’s eyes flicker. The fairy circles a second time, color returning to Time’s face as raw and tender flesh takes the place of an open wound. There’s no time for a third pass, however, as the fairy’s wings stutter to a halt, pink glow fading as it drops to the earth.

The others are too busy with Time to notice, Wind practically shoving the red potion down the man’s throat while Legend and Four start wrapping the wound in their leader’s side. Only Warriors has seen the fairy fall, and panic lances through his heart again.

Fairies aren’t supposed to collapse after healing someone; they’re supposed to fly away. But this fairy only weakly attempts to rise again, and while the other fuss over the lesser injuries while Legend scolds Time, the captain turns his attention to the fading pink light that blinks on and off in the tall grass.

The fairy shivers in his hands as he gently scoops it up, but when he raises it to eyes level to look at it properly, he freezes.

Tousled brown hair, drenched in sweat, flops over lidden golden eyes. Sure, there six tiny eyes to look at, but the light in them, though faded, is familiar. Same as the freckles that dust drawn cheeks and the tiny green and brown tunic, the shrunken boots the-

“Hyrule?” His voice is soft and disbelieving, too hushed to be heard by the others as they continue to worry over the old man. But the tiny figure in his hands stirs, ever so slightly, golden eyes blinking open as a weak smile meets his gaze.

“W-” The single sound escaped before the fairy stutters in his hands, lights blinking out for half of a second as Hyrule coughs and wheezes.

“Hang on!” Again, he’s digging in his bag, guilt and utter horror filling him as realization hits.

He put Hyrule in a bottle. A bottle that has sat in his bag for days. A bottle that is closed and sealed and-

The captain’s breath stutters as his fingers find the vial of green potion. Eyes glassy as he lifts it to the fading light in his hands, and while Hyrule sips slowly at the vial that’s raised to his lips, it’s all that the soldier can do to not break down crying right then and there.

He locked Hyrule in a bottle!

Tiny wings flutter in his hold as Hyrule pulls himself up to grasp the vial better, but the captain’s so lost in his head he can only stare, unseeing, as the fairy downs the rest of the vial, despite the thing being bigger than himself. The pink glow that signifies a healing fairy stutters back to a more radiant bloom, wings fluttering lightly as Hyrule shakes out his limbs with a wince.

“Thank you for freeing me.” The traveler’s tiny voice chirps, eyes pained but warm as they all stare up at him, and a single tear escapes from the captain at the words.

He doesn’t really think, just gently plucks the fairy up and settles him in a fold of his scarf before jumping to his feet and striding away into the forest. Sky’s voice calls after him, but he ignores it, instead heading for the nearest bunch of trees.

He’s not sure why he brought Hyrule along, but he also knows he couldn’t just leave the fairy hero back in the camp with no one to watch over him, so even as he fights back the tears that well in his eyes and the pain that blossoms in his heart and the sensation of too small- too tight- trapped- glass- trapped-

“Warriors!” The sharp peal of Hyrule’s voice cuts him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t know when he’d fallen to his knees or when his hands had risen up to clutch his hair. It hurts how hard he’s pulling, and it scares him that he hadn’t even felt it. “Hey!” The voice continues, Hyrule fluttering, still weak, only inches from his face, concern glimmering in glimmering golden eyes. “Hey listen! Wars? Can you hear me? Wars?”

“S-sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Hyrule dismissed the apology, and it draws a wet laugh from the captain as he watches the still stuttering wings beating with a speed to rival a hummingbird, Hyrule’s drawn frame looking even paler and thinner right now than it had when they’d first met him.

“I should be asking you that, kid.” He chokes out. He’d locked this kid in a bottle for days! He’d never known it and if Time hadn’t been dying, who knows how long it would have taken him to open it!

Hyrule’s smile is drawn as his wings stutter to a stop again, the traveler falling into Warriors’ lap as the captain starts forwards as if to catch him. Muttered words sound through the air and then Hyrule, properly sized but still pale and thin and painfully still is nestled against his chest. “I’m exhausted and hungry, but I’m out.” The kid breathes, eyes fluttering as a soft breeze ruffles his sweat soaked hair. “I’m out and that’s all I could ask for right now.”

He doesn’t even think as he wraps his arms around the kid, burying his nose in the damp curls and never minding the fact that they are rank with sweat and fear. It’s Hyrule, and he’s safe, and while Legend is probably going to murder him for trapping the poor kid for three whole days, at least he knows that the little one is alright.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice is muffled as he murmurs into the curls. “I know how bottles suck, if I’d’ve known it was you I would have never-” His voice hitches with a sob as he tugs the kid closer, weeping as Hyrule’s gentle hands weakly pat the only thing they can reach within his tight hug, his chest.

“You didn’t know.” Hyrule rasps softly. “But I’m burning your bug-net when I have the energy.”

“Please.” Comes the strangled sob. “Oh goddesses, Rule, I’m so sorry!” The gentle hands move up to wipe away his tears but it only brings them flooding down harder. “Goddesses, I locked you in a bottle! You could’ve been in there forever and I wouldn’t have known! I wouldn’t have checked! I would’ve-”

Left him there. His mind supplies. He would have left Hyrule in a glass bottle where no one could find him, where his shrieks and screams and pleas for help wouldn’t have made a difference to anything or anyone, not when the giant beings that trapped him were unaware or uncaring of his fate, not when he was there to serve a purpose, not when he was there to be used like an item and supply power to those who don’t have enough themselves.

A talisman. I trophy. A tool so that they could do what they needed.

He’s been there. He’s been in that bottle, used like a tool, supplying power to beings so much larger than himself. He’s been in that bottle and left to sit while his friends call his name, while Mask and Tune and Ravio and Impa and Marin and Midna and- and-

“Hush.” Hyrule coos softly, voice hoarse, no doubt from many a scream and wail in hopes of catching their attention, of gaining freedom. “Sush, you’re okay. I’m okay, we’re both okay and Time will be okay.” Rough pads scrape across his cheeks and gently rub his ears. “I got you Wars, I got you.”

And Hyrule does have him, holds him despite being the one in Warriors’ lap, until the others come wandering over and the traveler is scooped from his arms by Sky, who hugs the youngster with tears pouring down his face and voice caught in his throat.

His tears go unnoticed as they all head back, and the instant they reach camp Legend is springing forwards with worry glittering in his eyes as he takes the traveler’s face in his hands, disbelief and shock and hurt and hope and a thousand other emotions swarming in golden violet as Legend gently touches the traveler’s brow with his own, crystal tears leaking out slowly as a tiny smile pulls at the vet’s face.

It only lasts a minute, but then Sky and Legend are fussing over Hyrule, checking him over and clucking their tongues like a couple of mother cuckoos as Wild springs towards the fire, eyes flashing indignantly at the sight of Hyrule’s thin frame, something he’d worked so hard to mend.

“Oh, ‘Rulie, thank Din you’re back!” Legend sighs, cupping the kids face gently in his hands as golden eyes flicker up at the vet with a smile. “Wherever where you? We nearly lost our minds with worry!”

“He was trapped by a monster.” The words roll off of his tongue bitterly as Hyrule frowns up at him, but Legend and Sky are too busy fussing to notice and Hyrule isn’t given a chance to correct anything as they check again for any injuries.

Warriors draws away, leaving Hyrule wrapped in his scarf as he sits on the edge of camp, head aching from tears shed and mind blank in the wake of them. He’s too tired to join in the fuss and celebration as Time sits up again with a groan and Hyrule is spoon-fed soup by a murmuring Sky. He’s tired. He’s cold, and he feels utterly empty.

At least he’s not in a bottle.

The thought sends shivers through him as he curls in on himself, an outlier to the bustle of the camp, free now to descend into the madness of his broken mind.

[kj-1130]

Nothing For Me

Part 5

(gifs not mine)

Main Masterlist

Part 4|Part 6

It was a strange sense of deja vu; except this time you weren’t staring at the glow in the dark stars that still lingered across the ceiling, you were staring at the back of your eyelids. Your thoughts still played loud in your head. They were like a playlist that was on repeat and you couldn’t press the pause button.

It was noisy but empty, if that made sense. A strange, but not unusual feeling to you.

The demons crawled into your head, made it their home and decorated it. And you just couldn’t find the strength to kick them out.

The back of your eyelids became something you had grown accustomed to staring at. If you weren’t awake and suffering at the will of your own mind, you were sleeping--hoping that your thoughts would turn off then.

You couldn’t see the light from the tv, but you could hear it. The ‘f.r.i.e.n.d.s.’ theme song was quite an interesting mix with the yells of ‘no one cares,’ ‘you’re invisible,’ or ‘just disappear.’

But you couldn’t sleep because the music was so damn loud. Apparently, the avengers retrieved the scepter and were celebrating. You were invited to attend by Natasha, but you didn’t have the willpower; to talk to perverted business men all night or to get out of bed--either one.

So you tried to ignore the sound of faint chatter and clinking glasses. Or maybe you would listen to it; it was undoubtedly better than whatever was going on inside your noggin.

Time passed. You didn’t know what time it was. Time is an illusion anyway.

The days were all just one big blob of nothingness to you at this point. Everyday, you felt the same, did the same thing, thought the same thoughts. So what’s the point of trying to tell whether the darkness you saw was from outside or from the back of your eyelids.

The back of your eyelids. What a strange sense of deja vu…

-

Stars reminded you of Michelle. The two of you always watched the stars together. It was your thing.

You’d never thought you’d have a thing with anyone. You were glad you had one with MJ.

You opened your eyes. The stars that were stuck to the ceilings seemed like they grew dimmer over the years--just like your eyes.

It was significantly quieter than it was before. You guessed everyone had homes to return to. What was a home?

Your mom was your home. But she’s gone now.

Maybe Michelle could become your home. Yeah. She keeps you warm and you do the same for her. Maybe she could be your home.

-

Pounding footsteps were heard throughout the hall. As tired as you were, your curiosity won out. You slowly sat up despite your body’s protest and made your way towards the door. Yeah, if you were in a horror movie, you definitely would’ve been dead by now.

Just as you were about to reach out for the handle, the door flung open causing you to jump back. Looking up, your eyes connected with red ones.

“You’ll do just fine, little Stark.”

-

The two former agents sped down the long halls of the tower. They reached the door and saw splinters all over the ground.

Natasha slowly walked in on high alert. She and Clint searched around the room; the bathroom, closet, anywhere where someone could hide.

The redhead faced her friend with a forlorn look on her face. Her head shook slowly.

“She’s gone.”

-

You were in your room--your old room. There was music playing downstairs; Whitney Houston. An artist your mom would listen to during her free time.

“Mom?”

You ran down the steps into the kitchen and stood at the entryway. She stood with her back to you. Her fro was pulled into a messy puff and she was wearing her robe; the same robe you would wear as a cape.

It smelled like french toast. You always ate french toast together on the second Saturday of the month. It was tradition.

“Mom?”

Her head lifted and she turned to face you. Instead of her glowing and blemish free skin and that beautiful, gentle smile, all you saw was a decaying body. The jaw was hanging by one side. It was as if tissue or muscle was stuck to her face and just gradually melting off.

“Hi sweetheart.”

You gasped and backed into the well causing one of the paintings to fall.

Your mom chuckled and when you looked back, her face was normal.

“You’re always so clumsy.”

Your breathing was still labored. You watched as the woman you knew as a mother picked up the piece of art. It was the one she got from her mother--your grandmother.

“You okay? You’re looking a little flustered.”

She strode towards you and rested a hand on your cheek and then your forehead.

You resisted the urge to flinch as her cold skin made contact with yours.

“C’mon. Let’s eat.”

Your body was on autopilot as you followed her to the counter. She passed you a plate and took a seat next to you.

“Useless,” was whispered and disappeared into the wind.

You looked behind you with furrowed eyebrows and a frown.

“You okay?”

You glanced at your mom before nodding.

“Yeah. Thought I heard something.”

“I’m glad I died.”

You whipped your head towards her and found the mummified version looking at you once again.

You stood and set your fork down before running up the stairs. You entered the bathroom and locked the door before sliding down the far wall.

The door was thrown open before her figure flew over to you.

-

Your eyes shot open and you sat up with a gasp.

Everything hurt. It all hurt.

Frantically, you pushed yourself to the corner of whatever room you were in regardless of what the throb of your head was telling you.

The rocks began crunching as if someone was walking on them. Your head whipped around in every direction trying to figure out where the noise was coming from.

“Your father took everything from us.”

“Yeah. Well he’s a taker not a giver.”

Your mom always told you your mouth would get you in trouble. You just hoped she wasn’t right at this moment.

Looking up, you were met with two pairs of eyes; one a woman the other a man.

They both seemed significantly older than you. The woman walked closer and bent down in front of you and her eyes started glowing red. You began hyperventilating, praying she wouldn’t harm you.

She lifted her hand to your temple and rested her fingers there.

“It’s time we get our revenge.”

All you saw was a decaying body. The jaw was hanging by one side. It was as if tissue or muscle was stuck to her face and just gradually melting off.

“Hi sweetheart.”

-

Your head was pounding and your neck was killing you. Groaning, you craned your neck and searched your surroundings.

Hands touched your shoulders gently. But it didn’t matter how gentle it was because you didn’t want anyone touching you with their hands that could kill you with the right movements.

You swatted them away from you--with your own hands that didn’t stand a chance against a lot of people.

“Woah, hey, hey, hey. Kid, calm down.”

Rubbing your eyes, you looked around as your vision cleared. In front of you stood Clint. His face was decayed; just like your mom’s.

You scrambled back and curled up in the corner of the corner closest to you.

“Hey. You’re safe. You’re okay,” he said gently.

Your gaze transferred from one area of the jet to another frantically. You wanted something to stand out at you; make it’s obnoxiousness force the visual of it in your brain. Anything would be better than seeing her face like that.

You didn’t even notice the archer moving closer to you until he rested his hand on your shoulder. You flinched hard and gently pushed it off of you.

Clint nodded in understanding and continued to kneel in front of you.

“We’re about 15 minutes from a safe house, alright? You can eat something and then rest there. That okay?”

Nodding your head, you leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

The most powerful thing you knew of was Cap’s shield. Seems like that witch was taking that spot.

-

True to Clint’s word, the jet landed less than 15 minutes later. You were the last out although Steve did end up waiting for you. His hand landed on your shoulder and when you turned to look at it, all you saw was bones and tissue. You stumbled back and hit your back on the quinjet.

The supersoldier looked at you with worried eyes before slowly walking away.

You watched the backs of the superheroes get smaller as they walked towards the porch of the safe house.

Is that what they were? Heroes? Everyone always described them as these indestructible beings that would always be there to help civilians and save the day. But who was going to save them?

They didn’t look so indestructible. They just looked like a group of people with the weight of the world--no universe on their shoulders.

Watching everyone enter the house, you decided to follow a moment later. Cap, ever the gentleman he was, held the door open for you and let it shut once you slipped inside.

“I know all your names,” the woman who stood next to the archer said. She scanned the group before her eyes landed on you, her head tilting slightly.

You tuned out the rest of the conversation as you looked around the house--no home. It looked like a home. Not some model house that some cookie cutter family lives in. A home where parents were raising their children to be themselves and nurturing them with love and care.

The room wasn’t spotless. There were legos and toys on the floor. It didn’t smell like cleaning supplies. It smelt like a homemade meal; one that would make any stress from the day just melt away.

A hand tugged on the sleeve of your shirt causing you to glance down. It looked just like the other ones; just a decaying, withering hand.

You flinched in response and quietly stepped away, not wanting to cause a scene. Rubbing your eyes, you looked down and saw a little girl that didn’t even seem the slightest bit fazed by your little episode.

“Can you play dollies with me?”

“Actually,” Clint cut in. “She needs to rest. (Y/n) can play after a nap, alright?”

The little girl nodded and went to minding her business.

The archer placed a gentle hand on your back and you tensed under his touch. You heard him whisper to his wife before the two led you up stairs.

“You good to clean yourself up?”

You grabbed the towel and extra clothes out of his hands and sat them down on the bathroom counter.

“I’m fine, Clint,” you muttered while pushing him out of the room.

-

You sat in the bed of the spare room that Clint’s wife, who you learned was Laura, said that you could stay in.

A knock reverberated through the room, the sound of the door opening following suit.

You felt a dip in the bed, but you refused to look up from the spot on the covers.

You didn’t want to see a decaying face.

You didn’t want to see someone dead.

You didn’t want that image stuck in your brain like a starred picture on google photos. You didn’t want to give your mind a chance to somehow twist it all around--inside, over and out--and convince you that it was all your fault.

You just wanted to have a few seconds of peace instead of the roaring tides that were washing through your head, even if it was false.

“What did she make you see?”

You swiped your tongue over your dry lips and shook your head.

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

There was a moment of silence and continued to mess with the unraveling thread in the blanket.

“Look at me then.”

You hesitated, but eventually lifted your head.

“I said look at me, not at the wall. Look at me.”

Taking a deep breath your lip began to tremble.

“Please.”

“Don’t make me do it,” you whispered.

A hand was turning you towards her before you could even stop it, but you managed to close your eyes.

“Whatever she showed you is not real. I’m here and I always will be.”

You only saw her ivory skin and forest green eyes. There were no visible bones or muscles. Just her red hair and sad smile.

Your eyes fitted around her face, making sure that it wasn’t a cruel trick your mind was trying to play on you.

Natasha lovingly patted your cheek and pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get some rest, alright?”

-

You couldn’t rest, long story short.

It was so noisy up there and you just couldn’t get it to calm down.

Every time you closed your eyes, somebody’s dead body was infiltrating your mind. Whether it was Clint or his kids, Natasha or MJ.

MJ. Oh shit.

You threw the covers off your body and slowly lifted yourself from the bed. Making your way downstairs, you heard some chatter coming from near the kitchen.

“I thought you were dead.”

A hand immediately flew up to your mouth as if that would stop the words that already came out of your mouth. Muttering a ‘my bad’ you walked up towards the group of adults while simultaneously scanning your surroundings.

“I am,” replied Fury.

Clearing your throat you took in a deep breath. But before you could speak, somebody beat you to it.

“What are you doing here, kid?”

You rolled your eyes and prepared to talk.

“Does anyone have a phone I can borrow?”

Practically everyone raised their eyebrows at you in confusion. You let out a sigh and started wringing your hands

“I-I need to call MJ. Please.”

When it was clear that desperation was shining through your eyes, Laura was quick to get up.

“Sure, honey.”

Everyone else was left confused.

“Who the hell is MJ?”

Laura gave you a phone and told you, you could call from the couch.

You were swift to dial her phone number and bring the device to your ear. You bit your lip, waiting for your friend to pick up which she did after the fourth ring.

“Who is this?”

While you were grateful the phone was picked up, it wasn’t who you wanted to answer.

“I-it’s (y/n). I-i-i’m just calling from a d-different number. I-Is M-MJ home?”

You knew all the adults were staring at you and as much as it made your skin itch and crawl, you didn’t care about it as much as you cared about talking to MJ.

There was shuffling on the other side so you could only assume that her mother was traveling around their apartment.

“Thank goodness. I thought you died or something,” she chuckled.

A smile rose to your face before you could even think about it.

“I mean, close but no.”

“I-You know what? I’m not even gonna ask.”

“It’ll probably be on the news by the end of this week anyway.”

You had finally relaxed into the couch and pulled your knees to your chest. You could still feel them staring holes in your skull and it was making you feel like you were exposed and vulnerable.

It was silent for a moment before you heard let out a sigh MJ let out a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Do you wanna come over and talk about it?”

You let out a hum before answering, “I can’t”

“Why? A-are you hurt? If so, I can come over there and-”

“No. I literally cannot-”

“It’s not a big deal. I can-”

“I’m in another state.” There was a pause on the other side of the call. “Or country. I-I don’t know where I am.”

You heard the girl clear her throat before taking a deep breath, obviously processing what you just told her.

“So that’s what you meant when you said-”

“Yeah…”

You clicked your tongue a couple of times, wondering what was going through Michelle’s head at the moment as the silence lingered.

“I guess you’re not in Kansas anymore.”

You let out a small chuckle, something you only seemed to do in MJ’s presence.

“No longer in Kansas.”

The conversation could no longer continue as you heard your friend’s mom yell for her.

“Well, I gotta go.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

The two of you never said ‘goodbye’ to each other not wanting it to feel like it was the ending of something.

You handed the phone back to Clint’s wife and made your trek back to the stairs before you stopped.

“Where am I exactly?”

The archer blinked owlishly at you while you stared at him with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged before continuing your way to the room you were staying in.

“Eh. I’ll figure it out.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.”

-

They left. Again. Not surprising.

You should be used to it by now. They had people to save anyway.

It was late at night and you couldn’t sleep--what’s new?

You didn’t want to bother anyone but you just couldn’t stand the commotion. You couldn’t stand that being the only thing you’re focused on.

You decided to go to the kitchen to see if Laura needed help with anything considering she did just have a whole team of unexpected guests.

The scene downstairs, kind of seemed… upsetting to you. The lights were dimmed, it was quiet, and the woman you were searching for was hunched over a cup of tea.

“Are you okay?”

Stupid question.

The brunette’s head snapped up and she met your gaze. Her eyes held a melancholy undertone in them and you just couldn’t imagine what was swirling in her mind.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

You took a seat next to her on the couch and fiddled with your hands.

“I just… worry sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah. Clint can be an idiot sometimes.”

You both shared a chuckle but the deafening silence still returned. The air flowing through the home could be heard. You could probably hear the kids’ breathing if you tried hard enough.

“Why are you still up?”

“Why are you still up? Isn’t that like, bad for the baby or something?”

Through the corner of your sight, you could see Laura shaking her head at you as a small smile danced across her lips.

“I asked first.”

You let out a sigh and shrugged your shoulders.

“Just...couldn’t sleep I guess.”

The woman nods in response and takes a sip of her tea. It was obvious to her that something else was on your mind but she didn’t pry and you were thankful for that.

Instead, she just grabbed the remote and turned the television on, an episode from the sitcom Living Single playing quietly.

A weight was felt on Laura’s shoulder and she looked down to see the young teenager resting with small breaths escaping her parted lips. The woman was careful to free an arm and wrap it around your shoulders, you subconsciously snuggling in further.

-

Walking down the halls of the compound, you searched all the doors. As you reached one, you raised your fist to knock only for the door to fly open before you could.

You clear your throat before looking towards the ground.

“May I, may I come in?”

The person nods and you hesitantly step inside the room and take a seat at the desk.

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Me too,” Wanda nods.

There was this awkward, tense silence that just floated through the room that seemed almost impossible to get rid of. It was suffocating.

“I’m sorry about the uhhh, whole mind thing.”

You too nodded in response and gave your reassurance, your mind focused on her accent. It was comforting to say the least.

It had been at least two weeks after the whole ultron thing. Tony was obviously oblivious to what happened to you.

When he ignored or neglected you, it was like a paper cut--never acknowledged or thought about until something provokes it.

You had passed the witch a few times in passing, but never truly held a conversation with her.

You knew of the passing of her brother and you knew how hard it was--is to lose a loved one. Especially if that loved one was the only one that made you feel like you weren’t completely and utterly alone.

“I know it’s not my place to say but,” you paused to take a deep breath. “Don’t let this hold you back. I-I was never given the chance to grieve my m-mom properly and, and I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you, I guess.”

At this point, you felt like you were just spitballing. You figured she already knew what was going on in your head so why not just be open about it.

“And I’m pretty sure the others will come around. Clint seemed to like you.”

The corner of Wanda’s mouth lifted a little and she gave a breathy laugh.

“And I guess, I like you too.”

“Thanks.”

You took a moment to gather yourself before heading towards the door.

“I guess I’ll see you around.”

-

“So to recap, you were kidnapped by a robot with murderous tendencies, got your mind manipulated by an enhanced individual, and now you’re living and somewhat acquaintances with said ‘enhanced individual’.”

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

Michelle chuckled in response and shook her head in disbelief.

“That’s crazy.”

You shrugged with a frown and scooted closer to her. Your shoulders were touching but neither of you moved.

“Eh, I’m kind of getting used to the crazy.”

You were watching the stars on the roof of her building again. MJ brought some snacks and a blanket which the two of you were currently snuggled up in.

The food was eaten quite quickly and silence was quick to wash over the two of you. But the silence wasn’t like it was with Wanda or even Laura. With MJ it was a peaceful and serene moment; like the two of you were in this indestructible bubble that only you two were allowed in. With her you felt safe.

You turned your head towards Michelle only to find her already looking at you. Both of your faces heated up but neither of you could look away. Instead, grins rose to both of your faces before the girl pulled you closer to her.

Yeah. Michelle was home.

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

Taglist

@leahnicole1219 @thebadasssass @littlegasps @lengendarymcnuggies @stillmanicc​

[persephone-plasmids]

Deacon X Sole

The Deathclaw Incident

[AO3]

Sole stood in front of Deacon with her eyes narrowed. A large glob of green slime dripped from the ends of her hair onto the ground with a dull splat. Deacon’s mouth twitched in the corner but he didn’t let himself smile.

“Don’t. Say. Anything.” Sole warned, her already narrowed eyes getting even smaller.

Deacon raised both of his hands up in front of him, the perfect picture of innocence. “I didn’t, Charmer.”

“And don’t call me that,” Sole said with a groan of frustration.

“Why not? I thought you loved the code name?”

“You only call me that when you want me to smile. And I don’t feel like smiling right now,” Sole said, green slime still dripping from her.

“What’s not to smile about? You just killed a Deathclaw while I stood by with a busted gun,” Deacon said, the corner of his mouth now twitching up into a ghost of a smile. “That’s awesome.”

Sole allowed her eyes to lose some of their suspicion as she nodded slowly. “I guess that’s true. I am pretty amazing.”

“And who knows, maybe Deathclaw innard chic will become the new style,” Deacon said, now letting a full-blown grin spread over his face. “Maybe that Deathclaw exploding when you used the alien blaster was the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“There it is,” Sole said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I knew you couldn’t actually be trying to cheer me up right now.”

Sole stomped away towards the nearby sinkhole, careful to avoid the torrential water that would try to pull her into the underground cave if she wasn’t careful.

“Wait, where are you going? I was totally trying to cheer you up!” Deacon said, trotting to catch up to Sole.

He thought it was cute the way she huffed under her breath when she was mad. And he couldn’t ignore the adorable little line that formed between her eyebrows when her face got all scrunched up in anger.

Deacon wanted to take Sole seriously, but these little characteristics that he’d grown used to over the past months were so distracting. He tried to ignore the way his chest tightened when he thought about this.

“Come on. A little slime actually looks kinda cute on you,” Deacon tried.

“I’m going to rinse off in this waterfall, and then we’re never going to talk about this again,” Sole said, pointing an accusing finger at Deacon.

“Scouts honor, boss,” Deacon said, holding up two fingers.

“You were never a scout,” Sole scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

“I totally was. I was the leader of my bear pack… or... whatever they call it,” Deacon said.

Sole shook her head, her face still a perfect mask of annoyance. But when Deacon watched her carefully, he could see the small ghost of a smile that threatened to give her away.

He was getting to her. He was cheering her up.

The thought made his heart leap in his chest and suddenly, the only thing that mattered to him was making that familiar smile appear on Sole’s face.

“We roasted radroach meat and sang songs to get badges on those little sash things. It was adorable,” Deacon said, his easy smile returning to his face.

“Deacon, boy scouts weren’t even a thing in your lifetime. The only reason you know about them is because you’re such a book nerd,” Sole said, her voice significantly softer now.

“You say ‘book nerd’ like it’s a bad thing.”

Sole let a soft small smile pass over her face, another emotion there that Deacon couldn’t quite decipher. Fondness? He hoped that was it.

“It’s definitely not a bad thing,” Sole said. She looked at the ground for a moment, not wanting to meet his eyes. “I actually really love that about you.”

Deacon worked hard to keep his face carefully neutral at her words.

He had never been so grateful for the sunglasses he constantly wore.

“So, are you going to wash that Deathclaw slime off you or what?” Deacon asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence. His tone was light and teasing. He’d mastered the art of appearing calm and collected when he felt anything but.

“Good point.”

“We don’t want you sending off some weird Deathclaw mating pheromones or something. A bunch of Deathclaws looking for a good time is the last thing we need.”

Sole pulled a face of disgust at this. “Yeah, let's avoid that.”

Without another word, Sole turned her back on Deacon and carefully picked her way across the slippery wet rocks to where the waterfall crashed into the sinkhole.

Deacon told himself that he watched Sole to make sure she didn’t lose her footing and get sucked into the underground cave, but he knew that was a lie. Of course, being the incredible liar he was, it only took a moment for him to actually believe that that was what he was doing.

His ability to lie to himself was unmatched.

Deacon watched as the water crashed around Sole, washing off the slime from the Deathclaw fight and the muck from their travel across the Commonwealth that day. Her skin was shiny under the waterfall and her clothes clung to her in a way that made Deacon think he should look away. But he didn’t.

When she finished, Deacon quickly turned away, hoping she wouldn’t be able to see the blush in his cheeks.

Blushing? Really? He was a highly trained Railroad agent who had worked hard to remove any attachments from his life. The fact that he was blushing over a fully-clothed woman was just embarrassing. This was hardly the most compromising position he’d ever been in with someone of the opposite sex.

“I feel so much better.”

Deacon jumped at the sound of Sole’s voice beside him. He had been so focused on appearing uninterested in her little impromptu shower that he’d actually lost track of her for a moment.

“You smell a lot better now too,” Deacon joked, trying to keep his voice light and disinterested.

“Maybe I should have just stayed disgusting. It would be some nice payback for all the showtunes,” Sole said, giving Deacon a sideways smile that made him feel warm all over.

“You should feel privileged that I give our missions their own soundtrack,” Deacon answered. “Besides, I have the voice of an angel and you know it.”

Sole’s sideways smile morphed into a full grin as she watched him. “You do have the voice of an angel.”

Again, the sunglasses were proving to be extremely helpful today in a way Deacon had never anticipated.

“Glad you think so, Charmer.” Deacon let his own smile grow in the quickly fading light. “Wait, am I allowed to call you that again or are you still anti-smiling?”

Sole took a step closer to Deacon with an amused look. “You’re allowed to make me smile again. Now that I’m all clean.”

“Glad to hear it. If I can’t make you smile, what am I even doing here?”

His question was rhetorical but he felt it to his core.

Deacon had been excited for a new person to joke around with when he and Sole had been assigned to start doing missions together, but he knew something had changed. He craved the satisfaction of her smile. Every time it ghosted across her face, he felt like he’d accomplished something incredible. And in those rare instances when he actually managed to make her laugh, it was like he finally knew why he was still wandering across this barren wasteland. Why he hadn’t given up all those years ago after losing Barbara.

Because now, for the first time in years, there was a glimmer of hope. A hint that he could actually be genuinely happy again.

Sole shivered in the dying light, her clothes still wet and clinging to her.

“You’re going to catch a cold if we don’t get you warm,” Deacon said, taking off his leather jacket and wrapping it around Sole’s shoulders.

“Well look at you, Deacon. Who knew you could be such a gentleman,” Sole said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Deacon was positive that Sole didn’t know what she was doing to him right now. She was being playfully flirtatious, the way they always were with each other. But for him, it felt like she had his heart in a vice. Every smile only tightened the grip she had on it.

Deacon swallowed hard, desperately trying to hold onto his lighthearted facade that was one smile away from shattering into a million pieces.

“You’re not the only one who can be a charmer,” Deacon said, but his voice sounded all wrong. He hoped Sole wouldn’t notice.

Without thinking, Deacon put his arm around Sole’s shoulders protectively. “Let’s head back to Goodneighbor and get you warmed up.”

Deacon tried to take a step forward, but Sole didn’t budge. When he looked down at her, Sole was watching him, her eyes serious. It was an expression he didn’t see her wear often.

“Something wrong?” Deacon asked, his voice still giving away just how keyed up he was.

Sole swallowed hard and Deacon couldn’t help but notice the rise and fall of her chest. Her breathing was shallow. “I just… thank you for always having my back.”

Deacon shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve got my back too. It’s just what we do in the Railroad.”

“Just one big dysfunctional family with guns?” Sole asked, repeating Deacon’s words back to him. It had been one of the first things he’d said to her that had made her smile all those months ago.

“Exactly.” His words came out soft. Softer than he’d meant for them to. But their close proximity made him feel like he needed to whisper.

Sole’s eyes darted down to Deacon’s lips for only a split second, but it was enough time for him to suddenly feel self-conscious. Involuntarily, his eyes also trailed down to Sole’s full lips, but he had the added benefit of hiding behind his sunglasses.

“Deacon… all joking aside, I really appreciate you watching out for me.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘all joking aside’,” Deacon said, his eyes still transfixed on the way Sole took her bottom lip between her teeth when she was nervous.

“Maybe just for a second?” Sole asked, turning her body so that she was now facing Deacon head on. She shifted her weight, bringing them even closer together.

He could feel the heat coming off of her body in waves, even as she shivered.

Sole took Deacon’s hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. Deacon’s breath caught in his throat at the unexpected closeness, making him feel ridiculous all over again.

“I guess I can be serious for one second,” Deacon answered. “But it might actually kill me.”

Sole leaned into him, her body now touching his. “It’ll be worth it,” she said, her voice low in a way that gave Deacon chills of his own.

The fabric of Deacon’s white shirt instantly dampened from the water still dripping off of Sole, but he hardly noticed, instead focusing on just how close they now were.

Sole leaned up and touched her nose to Deacon’s lightly, closing her eyes. Deacon seldom saw Sole in such a vulnerable position and the amount of trust it showed shook Deacon to his core.

He tried to be professional; at least, as professional as he ever was. He tried to tell Sole this was a bad idea, that it would make things complicated going forward. But he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he closed the last few inches between them, pressing his lips gently against hers.

Even though Sole had been sending him some obvious signals, Deacon still worried he’d misread the situation and she’d pull away from him. He was surprised when, instead, he felt Sole’s hands press against his stomach, slowly running up his body to his chest and finally behind his neck to pull him firmly against her.

Deacon let his hands rest on Sole’s waist, drawing her to him in the now dark wasteland. With the sound of the rushing waterfall beside them and the occasional distant gunfire that was all-too-common in the Commonwealth, Deacon revelled in this rare stolen moment.

His lips moved over Sole’s slowly and deliberately, wanting to take his time with the kiss. She felt soft and perfect. The way her fingers tangled in his dark hair and her shirt soaked his own grounded him in the moment.

The kiss lasted only a moment, but when Sole pulled away, Deacon felt the inevitable shift in energy between them. He already missed the feeling of Sole’s lips on his own.

“So, did it kill you?” Sole asked, her eyes searching Deacon’s face.

“It did,” he confirmed, still breathless from the kiss. “But you were right. It was worth it.”

Sole placed her hand gently against Deacon’s face, her thumb running along his cheekbone. Every time she touched him, it sparked something inside of him that he hadn’t felt in years.

It was dangerous but thrilling at the same time. Part of him wanted to give into it, but the other part was far too scared to explore those feelings.

“Consider it payment for the jacket,” Sole said, her grin returning before stepping away from Deacon’s embrace.

He instantly missed the warmth from her body, instead left with a dampened shirt and empty arms.

“That jacket is only on loan, you know. I expect it back,” Deacon said, impressed by his own ability to sound nonchalant when, inside, he was dying to be close to Sole again.

“Fine. I’ll give it back one day,” Sole said. “But it looks much better on me.”

“That’s obvious,” Deacon answered. “And if this is the way you pay me back for loaning you a jacket, remind me to give you any article of clothing you ever ask for.”

Deacon raised his eyebrows suggestively at Sole, making her laugh. The sound was soft and musical.

“Now we’re even Sneakin Deacon,” sole called over her shoulder as she sauntered away into the darkness.

Her tone was joking, but before she turned away, he saw the look in her eyes. It was the same one that hid in his own behind his trademark shades.

The kiss had devastated her and much as it had him. It had meant more to her than she was letting on and he knew it.

They were so screwed.

(Part 2)

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either. 

warnings: lots of emotions, feelings, slightly cynical and bitter reader- she’s honestly just being a realist, we are chugging forward, did not check for typos, format could be fucked up bc i’m posting from my phone quite literally minutes before i clock in- PATHETIC LMAO

word count: 2.7k

this is a short chapter by my standards, but it felt long to me because of the things in it??? this is part five! all other parts can be found on my masterlist, it’s my pinned post!

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Wanda asked while she tied your corset, not even needing to ask whether it was too tight or loose. You looked up in your vanity and immediately tried to wipe your smile away, but it was too late. She knew you better than anyone, and she had yet to see a thoughtful smile on your face, ever. Pietro, who had caught you going back inside the previous night, caught on to the fact that you looked more carefree, and that you just seemed to look like you were carrying around less. 

“Nothing.” 

“Hmm,” Wanda hummed, an entertained look on her face. Something told you that she already had an idea of what was going on, even though there was no way she could have. Besides, you hardly even knew what was going on. “I’ll ask again later.” She looked you in the eyes through the mirror, a slightly mischievous smile on her face. “Maybe then you’ll tell the truth,” she said, flicking you on the side of the head, and then letting it rest.

§§

Natasha was out in the village doing whatever it was the knights did one night, and she was planning on spending the night at a bed and breakfast before coming back in the morning. As disheartened as you were about not being able to see her for your stargazing, you were partly glad for it. You missed being with the twins. 

You had dinner with them alone, sitting and laughing about old memories and scheduling times to make new ones together. You loved the way you could be with them. Your laughter was allowed to go over the volume of a giggle without them looking at you like you had grown seven heads, your silverware were allowed to take a tumble onto your plate with a clatter without a second glance, and you were allowed to use whatever language you pleased. You missed the comfort that you felt with them, the comfort that your brain and the part of you that would always be the farm girl felt with them. 

“And Pietro chased him all the way off, you should have seen how terrified he was,” Wanda recapped, and you couldn't help but grin at Pietro, who was sipping wine with his charming grin. “That boy will never lift another skirt, I can assure you of that.” 

“I’m glad,” you mused, shooting Pietro a look that made him laugh. 

“Enough about me,” he said after swallowing a sip of his wine that was much more like a gulp. “We’re not going to talk about how you’ve been walking on the clouds for weeks now?” 

You nearly dropped your fork again. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve both realized,” Pietro said, motioning with his buttered knife towards his sister, who had a soft smile on her face as she observed your reaction. “That you have been significantly happier. Even with the circumstances-”

“Pietro,” Wanda hissed, but you just snorted and shook your head. 

“It’s like you found your own little pocket of happiness. We were worried about you, but, you’re doing alright.” Ever the blatant one out of the three of you, he leaned forward with his trademark smirk, eyes full of curiosity. “What do you know that we don't?” 

You hesitated for a second, mouth opening and closing twice as you grappled for anything to say, even a lie. And then, you settled on just shrugging your shoulders with a grin, shaking your head. “Honestly, Pietro, I know nothing. I don’t know anything.”

§§

Your heart was beating faster than normal as you looked at the woman next to you, your hand subconsciously itching closer to hers as you sat on the ground, ass on the blanket that you had brought out.  “I would like to… show you something.” 

It was probably the twentieth time that you and Natasha had met with each other, and still, you were entranced by her and everything that she did.  And you were entranced while you stared at her and waited for her answer, just a little nervous as to what she would say. 

As if she would ever say no to something you said. 

“Show me anything you’d like me to see,” Natasha urged on, and you fought back a smile. You stood up, and she did the same, and then you were picking up the blanket and walking side by side with her. It was quiet the entire way there as you walked in step with her, hand brushing against her every few steps and sending tingles down your arm every time it happened. 

The feeling that you got when she touched you made you feel both alive and scared to death. You weren’t stupid. You knew what you were steadily collecting more than friendly feelings for her, and that she may have been on the same page you were on. The game you were playing was a dangerous one, the risk threatening to swallow up the reward more and more by the day. 

You had known that being with her by yourself was bad judgement, ever since the first time you did it. Hell, the look you gave her the first time you met her was far from appropriate. Every single conversation that you had with her was a risk, and both of you knew it. And now that your soon-to-be husband was approaching, it was even more scandalous. No one knew and you hoped no one would ever find out, but hiding forever wasn’t a choice. But what would you be hiding if there were no true feelings? 

You hated yourself for falling for her and her pretty words. 

“I used to come here to escape,” you started, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, voice low as you passed the tree line to get into the thick of the woods. You narrowly missed stepping in a particularly muddy spot on the ground. “This was my spot, before I got the garden of course.”

“The woods?” 

“No, Nat,” you said, slightly amused as you stepped over a fallen branch. You smiled a bit when the sound of running water hit your ears.  “The stream.” 

You knew the exact second that she saw it, because her eyes widened and her breath hitched.  “That’s not a stream, that’s a river.”

“It’s the forgotten part of the main river,” you explained. “It’s much skinnier and more shallow, and it doesn't have nearly as much fish coming through, so people forget about it.” You looked towards her and saw how intrigued she was by it, so you judged her armor free body with a slight smirk. “What? Never seen running water?”

“I lived in the capital, all they had was the ocean. And even then I was never allowed on the harbor if I wasn’t selling clams, and I didn’t sell clams much.”

You felt silence start to grow between the two of you, so you said the first thing that you thought of. “You don’t look like a clam seller.” 

He looked away from the river and to you, a slight grin on her face even as she talked again. “And you don’t look like a petal kisser, blossom, but look where we are today.”

Your heart raced in your chest. “Blossom? Is that what you’re calling me now?” 

“It’s only payback for calling me ‘cherry’,” she said, and you stifled a laugh at the retired name, glancing up at the red hair that you had gotten inspiration from.  

“You didn’t actually mind it,” you said, looking off into the distance, only looking back at her when a warm hand slotted over yours. You blinked and looked down at your hands, which she had intertwined, and then back up at her again, only to see that she was staring straight ahead in the dark at the way the moonlight hit the water. 

“How could I?” She asked softly, a subtle breeze picking up.”You were the one saying it.” She looked at you, and in the dim lighting, you could have sworn that her eyes were saying, you can call me anything in the book, and I will own it proudly. And then, the look changed to something else, something less devoting, and something more passionate. It took you a few seconds to understand what the look meant, and before you could fully register it, she was leaning forward. 

A few seconds came and went where you could feel your heartbeat all over, and you tried to look somewhere other than in her eyes. You couldn't. “Don’t look at me like that.” When all Natasha did was tilt her head to the side and give you an even more intense version of the look, you let out a small sigh. “Please.”

“Why not?” 

She knew why. She knew why probably better than you did after living in the capital. She saw what happened firsthand to people who committed crimes, and those who committed second degree adultery. If you two did what you were wanting to do with your entire heart, you would fall right into that category. “I know where this is going,” you said softly, “and this won’t end well.” 

“Why not?” She asked again, and you turned your head to the side, shaking it slightly and closing your eyes. 

“Because, I’m about to get married,” you hissed, and though you didn’t mean to sound so angry, you did. Natasha was hardly affected. 

She lifted her arms and let them fall against her clothing with a soft slap that still echoed in the night. “You’re not married right now.” 

“But I will be, Natasha,” you said, gripping her hands and squeezing  them softly, begging for her to understand you. “What’s going to happen when I get married to a man who already has a streak for murdering his wives, and he finds out that I have feelings for you? He’ll kill me. He’ll kill you. And if he doesn’t, we’ll both be hung for adultery, after being put into torture camps for being… together as women.” 

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Y/N, you know that.” The fervency in her tone nearly shocked you as she took a bold step forward, nearly surrounding you in her scent and energy. “I would never let anything happen to you.” 

“You’re too important for me to condemn to death and dishonor just because I have feelings for you. It was selfish of me to meet with you in the first place, but I can’t let myself do this. It’s a bad idea,” You said, voice hushed even though no one would have followed you. You were trembling, hand shaking more than anything else as you tried to understand how fast everything was moving; forward and backwards, sewing together and ripping apart all the same. If you were any more attentive to her expression, you would have seen the grin that lit up her face as your confession. “We were just about to cross a line. We’ve crossed quite a few dotted ones, but this one? It is bold and blaring.” 

“Blossom,” Natasha started, and you just shook your head and kept going. 

“And-and what we were just about to do? That crosses the line. We cannot.” 

“Do you really think my feelings for you are going to change depending on whether or not we kiss?” She asked, her voice slightly deeper than usual, almost sounding insulted. “You’re telling me to close my heart off from you, not to not kiss you. And you know that.”  

“What if I am?” You asked, eyes starting to burn with tears. “I’m doing it for the right reasons, Nat. I’m trying to save us from a world of hurt when reality finally sinks in.”

“That isn’t today.” She took another step forward and this time, you couldn't find the strength in you to step back. “And it isn’t tomorrow, and not even within the fortnight. You and I have something, and I know that you know it’s different. It’s special. We would be so stupid to ignore it, so stupid.” 

“I know, I know,” you said, voice tapering off into a whine as you slowly felt your resolve come apart, even though you thought it was stronger. “I’m sorry.”

 “You don’t have to apologize,” Natasha said after a few minutes of pure silence, and you found yourself exhaling. “I just wish things were different.” 

  “I know,” she said, and you turned to look up at the sky, tears threatening to come down on your cheeks. The stars seemed to twinkle and wink at you, talking amongst themselves about a future you had no idea about just yet. 

“Guess they’re never gonna line up,” you murmured to yourself, and then you heard Natasha grumble something from your side, and then she was coming closer, a barreling energy force full of passion and intent, and you knew exactly what she was coming for. For less than a split second, you thought about it. And then you turned your head and met her halfway. 

You would have been surprised by the passion in it if you weren’t just as desperate for the contact. You twisted in her arms, already wrapped around you as she drew you in close, closer than you had ever been with her, and the tears that were welling up before were now escaping for a different reason. Your lips were pressing into hers, moving fluidly and with an air of fervor that she matched equally. You felt wanted, and needed, and you felt loved. You felt the tenderness of the moment with every brush of her fingers on the back of your neck and with every rub of your back over the thin material of your night dress. 

Your legs were shaking, and she noticed before you did that you were getting weak in the knees. She held you up and pulled back slightly, just enough for you to feel her lips brush against yours while she asked if you were okay, like she wasn’t willing to take herself from you just yet. And honestly, you weren’t ready for her to leave you, either. You nodded, and she leaned in again, much slower, and then you had time to think. 

Her eyes weren’t the same shade they were when the sun hit them, they were almost an eerie pale blue, but they were still just as gorgeous to you, especially now that they were slanted with desire. Her hair wasn’t perfect like she somehow always managed or it to be, and you realized that it was because you had gotten a hand to run through it despite the way that she had previously held you like a lifeline. Her lashes were long, and you swore that she was close enough that you could count them. Her cheekbones were accentuated in the lighting, making her look like something straight out of a fairy tale, like a floating fae creature that led people to safety. In that moment, you could have sworn that she was the answer to every prayer you had ever whispered, to every question you had ever asked your etiquette teachers. In that moment, and in every moment to come, she was your ending and beginning, your creation and destruction, your sunrise and sunset. She was Natasha Romanoff, and in that moment, no wedding or murderous man even held a candle to the way you felt about her.

  What a beautiful person. 

“Now you’re looking at me strangely,” Natasha said, her voice quieter than you had ever heard it as the both of you treated over the moment carefully, trying not to break it and leave it in shambles. “What are you thinking about?” 

“How I’m going to have to pretend like this never happened in a few weeks,” you said softly, and part of you hated yourself for bringing up the bad part of the future so soon after you both had just lost all ties to reality. 

“You don’t have to,” she said, stroking your hair. “We can just keep doing what we’re doing, sneaking off in the night and coming back in the morning before anyone realizes. Nothing really has to change, I just want you to know that I… that we can be whatever you want us to be.” 

“As long as we’re in the confines of the garden walls.” 

“And now the woods,” Natasha said, and you couldn’t help but laugh in her arms. 

“And now the woods."

****

this is short, but i couldn’t see anything being tacked on to this. we’re at an important part, and from here it’s gonna be fun!! thank y’all for reading; if you liked it please drop a like and a reblog bc it makes my day!! comments also make me ascend y’all

tags!! : tags! : @teenwonder @saamwilscn @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife​ @shycucumbersandwich @dailyavengering @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion @chickenhavewisdom

so sorry if i forgot anyone!!!!!

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 17

Hannibal teaches y/n a useful skill.

@dovahdokren @lov3vivian @deadman-inc-bikeshop

Trigger warnings: use of firearms, discussion of firearms, violence

“So where are we off to next?” You asked, following Will around the office. “Are we questioning this Rachel woman, or are we going straight to the church?” 

Will sighed. “Jack and I are going to the church. I’m calling Hannibal to come pick you up.”

“What?” You spat in utter disbelief. “What the hell happened to taking him down together?” 

“You’ve already been more help than we could ask for.” Will explained. “This is the end of the line for you. We--”

He cleared his throat and looked down. “I can’t bear to see you get hurt.” 

“That’s sweet and everything, but,” You folded your arms. “You really think someone is going to hurt me in broad daylight in a megachurch?” 

“Well, somebody stabbed you in broad daylight in a restaurant, and that person just happened to come from this megachurch.” Will rationalized. “So, yes. I wouldn’t say it’s out of the question.” 

“So that’s it, you’re just going to pass me off to Hannibal?” You threw up your arms. “Look, I had enough of this growing up with divorced parents.” 

“Angel,” Will soothed, running a gentle hand down your arm. “Please. I’m begging you, think on this for just a minute and try to see why I don’t want you on this particular excursion?” 

You thought on it for a minute. “Churches do kind of trigger me.”

“I saw how tense you got when that woman said she’d kicked her daughter out of the house for dating a girl. I understand, dealing with people who remind you of Chase is going to trigger you.” Will whispered. “Have you even taken any time to work on healing?” 

“I could say the same to you.” You disputed. “You killed a woman and then came face-to-face with her mother. Why aren’t you trying to work through that?” 

“That’s different.” He blurted out. “That’s my job.” 

“Sure.” You snipped. “I have to take time to work through my PTSD, but you don’t. Got it.” 

“If you go home with Hannibal now, I promise I will...” He hesitated to finish the sentence. “I’ll work on my issues too. Cross my heart.” 

“Oh, I will absolutely hold you to that.” You pointed at him. “And I’m telling Hannibal you said that.” 

Will immediately regretted making that promise and it was obvious from his expression. “Please don’t.” 

“I am absolutely going to do that.” You said, in a way in which he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not. 

Hannibal opened the passenger’s door for you and greeted you with a kiss. He could tell you were feeling off after only a few seconds. 

“Why so sad, my indulgence?” He asked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Don’t tell me you enjoy Will’s company more than mine?” 

“What? No.” You shook your head. “No way.” 

“You can tell me what’s on your mind, love.” He assured you. 

You sighed and rested your head on the window. “Will doesn’t want me to help on the investigation anymore.” 

“I don’t see why he should.” Hannibal agreed. “You’re tracking down the man who tried to kill you, and he’s tracking down the man who tried to kill his lover. Both of you are far too close to the situation and your mental health will suffer for it. But, in the end, it’s Will’s job.” 

“I know.” You conceded. 

“That, and,” Hannibal continued. “Will is a trained professional under the supervision of other trained professionals. He’s far less likely to get hurt.” 

“I get it.” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “At the end of the day, he’s the action hero and I’m the damsel in distress.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal scolded. “You know our situation isn’t so black-and-white. You know the investigation couldn’t have worked without you.” 

“I know.” You pouted. “I just wanted the final blow, y’know? I think I deserve to finish the job.” 

Hannibal went quiet for a moment. When you came to a stoplight, he turned his gaze to you. “You want to be more proactive in your safety.” 

“Would be nice.” You shrugged. 

“I wasn’t asking.” Hannibal corrected. “You do want to be more proactive. It’s why you have a firearms license in your wallet and a handgun in your car. It’s also why you were looking up hunting equipment last night while you were on the phone with Freddie Lounds.” 

You swallowed. Every word in the English language escaped you. He was right. You never saw the appeal of guns until you lived alone. Even though a "gun owner" was technically what you were, you didn't want to associate yourself with the jingoistic, hyper-masculine culture affixed to the term. You were just a woman who kept a gun in her car and had all the proper licensing and registration for it. Nothing wrong with that. So why did it have you feeling so defensive? 

You lowered your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“For?” 

“Lying about Freddie Lounds.” You finished. “I don’t know why I felt the need to lie about that, in hindsight-” 

“I understand.” Hannibal cut you off. “You were just doing what you felt needed to be done. Will would have done the same.” 

He was right again. 

“Ambitious of you to select a shotgun as your weapon of choice.” Hannibal observed. “At the risk of sounding like a chauvinist, I have to ask. Do you know how to use one?” 

“No.” You admitted. “It was just a power fantasy, I guess. All I know is that you can blast a guy’s head off with one.” 

Without a word, Hannibal took an abrupt turn. 

“Isn’t your place that way?” You asked, pointing in the opposite direction. 

“Do you have your license on you now?” He asked. 

“Of course I do, why?”

“Because we’re going to make your power fantasy a reality.” He answered.

Soon enough, you pulled up to a large hunting store with a shooting range attached. 

“Go in and pick out something you like.” Hannibal instructed, reaching for his wallet. “I’ll be waiting for you at the range and I can teach you how to use it.” 

He offered you one of his shiny metal credit cards. When you didn’t immediately take it, he pushed it closer to you. 

“I just got a thousand dollars from Freddie Lounds.” You pushed his hand away. “I can pay for it.” 

“You deserve something much nicer than only a thousand dollars can buy you.” Hannibal’s voice hardened. 

“So then I’ll buy something more than a thousand dollars and use your credit card to make up the difference.” You offered. 

“No.” Hannibal said, sternly. “I will buy you a nice gun and plenty of ammo, and you will save your thousand dollars for when you open your own restaurant.” 

“How did you-” You objected. 

He cut you off. “Will isn’t very good at keeping secrets, dear. Take it.” 

You laughed uncomfortably. “Hannibal, if you don’t put that credit card away I will bite your finger off.” 

His thin lips curled into a cunning smile. He offered you his other hand. “Bite away, darling.”  

You wordlessly snatched the card from his hand. 

“Oh, pity.” Hannibal feigned disappointment. “Did I call your bluff?” 

You tucked the card away in your pocket. You leaned in as if you were going to give him a kiss on the cheek, but playfully nipped at his earlobe. 

"Remind me to give you a little special attention when the lesson is up." He whispered, his hand clutching your arm.

You made sure to walk away slowly, rolling your hips with every step.

You entered the store, feeling overwhelmed and significantly less confident than you did while shopping for guns online.

An employee approached you. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever sexist comment he was about to hurl at you. But somebody must have taught this particular associate that being a misogynist prick doesn't sell guns.

"Anything I can help you find, ma'am?"

Your mouth ran before your brain. "I'd like to buy a gun, please."

"Well, you've come to the right place." The employee smiled. "What kind of gun are you looking for?"

"A shotgun." You corrected.

"Well, we have plenty of makes and models to choose from." He clapped his hands together and led you to a wall lined with shotguns. "Any specifics in mind?"

"I guess I just want something simple enough to use." You scratched the back of your head. "My boyfriend is taking me skeet shooting this weekend so I don't have time to learn all the complicated mechanics."

"So skeet?" The man put his hands down on the counter and looked deep in thought. He turned around and pulled one off the shelf. "I'd recommend this CZ over-under. It's a good place to start."

He offered it to you. Your eyes widened and your first instinct was to refuse.

He looked at you with confusion. "How are you gonna shoot anything if you don't hold it?"

You shook off your nerves and took the gun in your hands. It was a little heavy, and tilted near the stock. You looked at it as if it were a beautiful but deadly venomous tropical snake.

"Over-under's are the working man's shotgun." The employee said. "Or, woman, as it were."

You held it up to your shoulder like you saw in movies and felt a strange rush of exhilaration pulsing through your body.

"It's nice, right?" He asked. "And you can get to the trigger okay?"

"I'll take it." You said. "And some bullets, please."

"Now we're cooking with gas." He answered, a big smile on his face. "Let's get you rung up."

The fact that he didn't even stop to notice that the name on your license didn't match the name on the credit card only emphasized your country's need for stricter gun control laws. Even if the lack of such laws benefitted you in that moment, the ease of the process killed you a little.

The total came up to just under a thousand dollars. You couldn't bring yourself to spend more than you planned to, even if it was Hannibal's treat. You already felt weird about using Hannibal's money, let alone so much of it.

The employee saw you out with a friendly "happy skeeting" and you set off to meet Hannibal at the range.

"There you are, love." He greeted you. He had removed his suit coat and tie, and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.

For a split second, you completely forgot about the gun and were overtaken by the need to fuck him. You quickly regained control of yourself. "Yeah. I found something."

"I should hope so." He said, beckoning to you from the stall. "Come now. Let me show you what to do."

You stood in front of the booth, ears and eyes protected. At the end of the long booth was a paper target. Hannibal positioned himself behind you. He took your hand in his and guided it to the stock wrist.

"Wrap your fingers around here, like this." He instructed, his dark, accented voice shaking you to your core. "Now extend your finger to reach the trigger. Yes, that's it."

"Now place your other hand on the fore-end and hold the end of the stock against your shoulder."

The way he shaped your body, positioned your limbs felt almost alarmingly natural. He wasn't just indulging your power fantasy, he was directing it.

"Cheek against the stock, love." He instructed. "The gun is an extention of you. You must hold it firmly and give it support. You move with it, it moves with you."

He rummaged through the shopping bag and pulled out a package of shells. "Are you ready to shoot it, darling?"

"I think I should probably load it first." You said, nervously.

"Well that should take us no time at all." Hannibal approached with two 12 gauge shotshells. "Go ahead and engage the break lever right at the edge of the barrel."

When the gun suddenly bent in half, your first thought was that you'd broken it. Hannibal handed you the two shells and watched you timidly slide one into each barrel.

You felt yourself shaking and your palms were damp with sweat. You swallowed. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Were you afraid the first time you drove a car?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

"Cripplingly." You nodded. "I was so scared I didn't take my foot off the brake the whole time."

"But now driving comes just as naturally to you as walking." Hannibal smiled comfortingly. He placed his hands over yours and returned you to the shooting position. On one side, the cold stock rested against your cheekbone. On the other, Hannibal's hot breath grazed against your skin. "It just takes some getting used to."

Your finger squeezed the trigger and the massive projectile exploded from the gun. The stock pushed back into your shoulder, making you stumble backwards into Hannibal.

"Holy shit!" You exclaimed. "That's got some serious recoil. Is it supposed to do that?"

Hannibal chuckled and took a step back, giving you a little space. "Yes, darling. Now go ahead and fire off the next shot."

Your eyes widened. "Okay."

"Remember, you move with the gun, you don't fight the gun." He instructed. "It's more afraid of you than you are of it."

You squeezed the trigger again, this time fully expecting the recoil. The shot fired, and this time it hit the target.

You hopped in delight. "Holy shit I actually got one!"

"All it takes is a little getting used to." Hannibal stroked your hair. "Now unload the shotgun shells and let's go again."

[ejzah]

A/N: And now for the comfort aspect of this story. And some more angst.

***

Where It Hurts Most, Part 6

“Kensi, is everyone alright? Did you find Deeks?” Fatima asked in Kensi’s ear, bringing her back to the present.

“Yeah, we found, found him and we’re all fine,” she told Fatima, gently releasing Deeks to take a step away. “But Deeks does need to see a doctor. He, uh, he has some facial trauma and possibly other injuries.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Fatima let out a hefty sigh. “Ok, I’ll call ahead and let the the ER to expect you guys. Paramedics should also be on the seen in about five minutes too.”

“Thanks, Fatima,” Kensi said gratefully. When she turned around again, Deeks was halfway across the room.

Several additional agents and police were starting to arrive and she could only guess how overwhelmed he felt. Although he didn’t have any obviously severe injuries, Kensi noticed he moved slowly.

As she headed towards Deeks, she noticed Kessler was stirring. He lifted his head just enough to catch her eye. She let her gaze sweep over him as a paramedic examined his knee.

“Have fun learning to walk on that again,” she said coldly. It was a harsh, cruel comment, but she didn’t feel a hint of guilt. Kessler growled something unintelligible, which she ignored in favor of hurrying to Deeks, and slipping her arm around his back.

There were more paramedics waiting and when Deeks noticed them, he held back, his hand tightening on Kensi’s arm.

“I don’t want them to touch me,” he said adamantly.

“You don’t have to.” She’d make sure no one objected.

“Kens,” Callen called out, quickly walking towards them. “I need a statement before you leave the scene. Deeks can give his after he gets checked out the hospital.”

Kensi gave the barest description she could, using as clinical of terminology as she could, conscious of Deeks’ presence. When she was finished, Callen let her go without question.

Deeks slumped in his seat a few minutes after Kensi started driving, exhaustion clear in his face. Every time he would begin to doze off, he’d jerk awake after a few seconds.

The third time it happened, Kensi reached across the console to take his hand. She squeezed it tightly and Deeks glanced over with a grateful look.

***

When they reached the ER, Kensi had Deeks sit while she checked him in at the front desk. As promised, they had a cubicle waiting for Deeks and Kensi silently thanked Fatima again. For her own peace of mind, she needed to know that he was alright, and she could tell that Deeks’ anxiety was increasing with every second.

By the time he was safely ensconced in the tiny cubicle, his legs were vibrating, right foot silently tapping against the linoleum.

His face looked significantly worse under the bright lights, each bruise, cut, and abrasion highlighted. His chin was blood, reminding Kensi of that horrible day years ago. A shudder ran through her and she reached for Deeks, this time for her own comfort.

She touched his temple, the unbloodied side, carding her fingers through his hair. It was tangled with blood and dirt, but she didn’t care.

“That feels nice,” Deeks whispered, leaning into her touch. He covered her hand for a moment, then shook his bangs out of his eyes, glancing up at her with a tired smile that was tinged with sadness.

The curtain to the cubicle slid open then, revealing a familiar face.

“Dr. Bartholomew,” Deeks said, quickly straightening with a wince.

“Mr. Deeks, Agent Blye,” he greeted them, nodding to Kensi.

Kensi felt Deeks relieve ever so slightly, some of the tension leaving his body. Dr. Charles Bartholomew had treated Deeks a few times over the years so knew some of Deeks’ medial history, if a highly redacted version.

“I wish I could say it’s good to see you…” Deeks shrugged and trailed off, giving his best attempt at a joke at the moment. Dr. Bartholomew allowed a half smirk, nodding in understanding.

“Same here. Now, you want to give me a rundown?” He addressed the question to Deeks, but glanced at Kensi as well.

“I, uh, might have some bruised ribs, my left shoulder is kind of sore, and then there’s this,” Deeks answered, gesturing to his face and head as a whole.

“And your wrists,” Kensi added quietly. “He was bound with restraints and zip ties for several hours.

“Uh-huh. Somebody certainly had it out for you Deeks,” Bartholomew observed quietly as he pulled on gloves and gently began pressing his fingers along Deeks’ hairline. His tone was non-judgments, only sympathetic.

“You could say that,” Deeks agreed darkly. He was silent for most of the examination unless asked a direct question. He flinched again when Bartholomew rolled his sleeves back to check his wrists.

After giving Deeks a couple of liquid stitches for the larger gash in his temple, Dr. Bartholomew slid his rolling stool back a few feet, and scrawled a few things down on a script pad.

“I’m going to prescribe an antibiotic and some pain medication. I know you’re probably not going to fill the second, but it’s there if you need it.” His brow rose a tad sardonically as he held out the prescription orders. Kensi accepted them, tucking both into her pocket.

“I didn’t see any signs of damage to your teeth or jaw, but I’d still like you to see your dentist or a orthodontic specialist,” he continued. Kensi noticed how careful he was to avoid the word trauma this entire time. “Given your history, I just want to make sure everything’s still in place.”

“Got it,” Deeks agreed, clenching his jaw. He’d handled the oral examination well, though he’d held Kensi’s hand the entire time, grip so tight her fingers ached.

“Good. I’m going to have a nurse bandage your wrists and give you a shot of antibiotics, then you should be good to go.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

“No problem. Take care, Deeks. I hope I don’t see you for a while.”

A nurse came along a few minutes after Dr. Bartholomew left. She set up a tray of implements and bandages without looking at Deeks. She abruptly grabbed Deeks wrist and he jerked out of her grasp, much like he had with Kensi.

“Sir, I need to bandage your wrists,” she told him sharply. “Hold still.”

“No,” Deeks said, shaking his head as he pushed himself off the hospital bed.

“Deeks,” Kensi murmured, stepping between him and the nurse. “It’s ok.”

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, nearly pressing himself against the wall as the nurse descended on him. She could see instinct and fear were taking over.

“If you don’t cooperate, I’ll be forced to call security,” the nurse threatened.

“Lisa, is everything alright?” A soft voice inquired as the curtain around Deeks’ bed was pushed aside yet again. Lisa spun around to face the young woman, dressed in light blue scrubs and a headscarf, who entered the room. “Would like me to take over, Lisa?” I think Dr. Favor needs assistance in room 8.”

Nurse Lisa gave the second woman a glare, but left without comment.

“My name is Ifrah,” the younger nurse introduced herself in that same soft tone. “Is it alright if I take care of you, Mr. Deeks?”

After a moment, Deeks reluctantly nodded and sat back down. His body was fully tense again and Kensi could tell it was taking all of his willpower stay out.

Ifrah seemed well aware of this and made sure to tell Deeks exactly what she planned to do before she touched him. As Kensi held his other hand again, Ifrah began to clean his left wrist.

She talked about her teenage daughter who was starting driving lessons in a few weeks and the garden she was planting. It was mindless, but Deeks calmed under the soothing rhythm of her voice. Kensi felt his breathing slow as Ifrah carefully bandaged his wrists.

When she was done, she gave him a pat, and nodded to Kensi.

“You can check out when you’re ready,” she told Kensi.

“Thank you,” Kensi said fervently, gratefully. Ifrah just nodded and left as quietly as she’d come.

“Sorry about that,” Deeks apologized, rubbing a hand over his face and then eyeing the think bandages with distaste. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. What you went through…we understand,” she finished simply.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” Deeks hesitated a moment and then slid his hand across the bed until he could twine his fingers through hers.

“Why didn’t you kill Kessler?” he murmured. “I mean, I’m not saying you should have, but I thought you’d want him gone permanently.”

Kensi drew in a long breath.

“I wanted to,” she admitted. “I think I planned to. Up until the moment I shot him, I wanted to kill Kessler more than anything.” She shrugged, avoiding Deeks eyes for a moment. “But as I was standing there and I saw what he’d done to you, what he planned to do to you, and everything else he’s done to us, I decided killing him was too easy.”

She heard Deeks inhale sharply and she purposely met his gaze.

“He doesn’t deserve to get off that easy. Kessler deserves every moment of pain and punishment from now on and I want to be there to make sure it happens.”

“What if he gets out again sometime?” He shook his head slowly, eyes filled with worry. “I don’t think I could take this again.”

“It won’t,” Kensi assured him. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t. After what he did today, everyone on this team will use all their power to make sure Kessler never has the chance to hurt us again.”

“Ok,” Deeks said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Kensi ran her fingers through his hair again and pulled him towards her.

“We’re free, Deeks,” she said, pressing their foreheads together. He made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob and tilted her chin up to kiss her. It was a kiss filled with relief, the remnants of pain, and more hope than Kensi had felt in months. “We’re free,” she repeated, holding Deeks closer.

***

A/N: And I think that’s it, guys! I hope this was a satisfying ending for you all. Thanks so much for your enthusiastic and lovely response to this story, which was somewhat outside my normal range.

[nctsjiho]

Third Wheeling

warnings: again minor injury

era: June 2021

❀ Teaching Hendery how to skate (and trying to get closer to him) doesn’t quite give the results one was hoping for

“Seeing you fall on your face was pretty amusing, not gonna lie.” Yangyang smirked avoiding JiHo’s eye contact, but soon enough he received a hard slap against his arm. He laughed, holding arm where the stinging remained and looked at JiHo again. “You said you were good.” “I am! It’s not my fault you bumped into me while I was perfectly skating past that bush.” JiHo defended herself, making sure to put emphasis on ‘perfectly’ to prove her competence. “Sure~ Go ahead and put the blame on me.” Yangyang grinned, having the time of his life while teasing JiHo.

A quiet knock sounded from Yangyang’s bedroom door, followed by the door being pushed open. From one side of the doorframe a familiar face came into view. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Hendery carefully said, a bashful smile on his face. “Not at all.” JiHo jumped up from Yangyang’s bed, secured her new skateboard – she had to thank Yangyang and Ten for that one – under one arm and walked up to Hendery. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.” She looked the boy straight in the eyes. Did she not notice how close she was? Or was Hendery just being overly aware of his surroundings? “And that boy was really starting to get on my nerves.” She squinted at Yangyang, but couldn’t help but mirror the smile that he was also sporting. “Let’s go?” She eyed the two boys. “Yup, you can go put your shoes on already.” Yangyang told JiHo who complied and left the room.

Walking up to Hendery, who seemed like he was in a completely other world right now, Yangyang patted the boy’s shoulder seeming to bring him back to reality. “Looked like you just saw a ghost.” Yangyang commented, but then his expression turned into something a bit more mischievous. “Or was it more like an angel? Hmm?” The younger boy winked before leaving the room to follow JiHo, not without missing the flustered look on Hendery’s face.

After Yangyang had picked up his hobby for skateboarding again through the video he shot for the WayV channel, JiHo quickly joined him. She had done so many types of skating when she was younger. Skateboarding may not have been het best form of skating, but she still enjoyed it nonetheless. So when she talked with Yangyang about it, they made a habit to go out and skate for a few hours every day – more like night – that they could.

Not only was it a great way to better their skills and wind down from long days of practise, recordings and other schedules, but it was also a great opportunity to hang out and strengthen their friendship. Something about being the two Europeans and sharing similar hobbies and interest, the both agreed it was only necessary for them to be close.

Well, after a few nights of skating together and Hendery coming up in one of their seemingly endless conversations, JiHo asked if Yangyang would be okay with inviting his groupmate to one of their skating sessions. Of course Yangyang had teased JiHo about it, because Hendery and JiHo hadn’t really hung out lately and despite their efforts to get closer a few months back, it felt like they were back to square one. Strangers again. “Then it’s a great idea, Hendery and I will stop being awkward in no time once we start hanging out again.” JiHo explained, trying her best not to get tipped off by Yangyang’s continuous teasing. “He can’t even skate. At least I don’t think so.” “Maybe he’s willing to learn. Just ask him.” JiHo said in almost a pleading tone and Yangyang finally agreed. “I guess I’ll be third wheeling again.” The comment made JiHo’s eyes widen significantly. “Third wheeling? What are you talking about! If anything I’ll be third wheeling.” JiHo countered defensively. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

The walk to their usual skating spot wasn’t too long. Usually they would ask WayV’s manager to bring them to a place near Gangnam River, but after a few times they didn’t want to be too bothersome and decided to choose a spot closer to the dorm. Of course JiHo could drive them to a nicer spot, but then she’d had to ask permission to use her manager’s car and they would end up in the same situation, not wanting to bother a manager.

The two 00 liners didn’t seem to have any problems engaging in conversations. The second they set foot out of the dorm, they had been talking nonstop. It seemed like Hendery had become the third wheel after all. Not that he minded though. His thoughts were somewhere else completely, he didn’t even really notice that he was trailing behind the duo, looking like he was a stranger who coincidentally was going the same place resulting in him walking behind them.

However JiHo had noticed this and she abruptly turned around to face Hendery, who almost bumped into the girl due to her sudden movement. “Wow! Look out there.” JiHo grinned, using her free hand to steady Hendery. “I just noticed you hadn’t said anything since we left, just making sure you’re still there.” She laughed and Yangyang joined her. “Aw JiHo. Always the caring type.” He almost sang earning yet another slap, but this time to his other arm. Ah! You’re going to give me bruises!” “That’s the plan.”

Hendery couldn’t seem to help but just watch the two younger members argue playfully. No words left his mouth as he awkwardly stood there, questioning why he even came in the first place.

Yangyang was right. Hendery couldn’t skate and he never really showed interest in learning. Even if he thought that skateboarding looked cool, the idea of learning to skate never crossed his mind. Yet when Yangyang asked him if he wanted to join him, he said yes. Well, to be more precise, he agreed when Yangyang asked him if he wanted to join him and JiHo. Why did he say yes?

“You’re so annoying.” JiHo exhaled deeply before perking up. “But we’re here, so let’s just have fun now.” Yangyang grabbed the nose of his board before starting to take a few steps away from his friends. “Have fun teaching this guy, I’ll be just going around for a bit.” Before JiHo could protest Yangyang had already taken off, slowly distancing himself further and further from the pair.

Once Yangyang was a good distance away JiHo looked up at Hendery. “Okay, I guess that means I’ll be your teacher today.” She grinned awkwardly earning an as just awkward smile back. “I’ll just teach you the basics so don’t worry, I won’t make you do dangerous tricks or anything.” JiHo placed her board down, instructing Hendery to do the same. “You know? You’re actually pretty lucky.” Hendery met JiHo’s eyes, showing her his confused expression. “Yangyang wouldn’t be as patient or good of a teacher.” A smile broke out on Hendery’s face in complete agreement of JiHo’s words.

A few minutes had already passed, with Hendery getting on his board, a spare one provided by Yangyang, and JiHo helping him move forward. It was definitely awkward with Hendery carefully gripping JiHo’s outstretched arms. Not wanting to hold on too tight scared that it would weird out JiHo, but also not too loose because he didn’t want to fall on his face while struggling to keep his balance. JiHo continued to help him forward trying to get him to find his balance on the board and get used to the feeling, until a soft chuckle left her lips. “W-What’s wrong?”

Hendery wanted to jump in a hole feeling insanely embarrassed. Did his voice really just break in front of JiHo? He wanted to hide his face, which he was sure was bright red already, but he couldn’t let go of JiHo’s hand. He’d definitely fall if he did.

Luckily JiHo didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she was just nice enough not to mention it. Instead she just answered Hendery’s question. “Nothing, it’s just interesting how we’re still this awkward.” She looked up at the boy, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “I mean, you’re the energetic one in WayV besides Yangyang and I usually don’t have any problem with talking to anyone. So what’s different between us?”

Between us? Us? There was such a thing as ‘us’? Hendery’s mind went 100 km an hour trying to come up with an answer, but only other questions start to form. Another chuckle brought him back to reality and his eyes locked with JiHo’s again.

“You don’t talk a lot? That’s pretty hard to believe after the things Yangyang told me about you.” A deep red tint slowly began creeping up on Hendery’s skin. “Or is it just me? Do I scare you? Make you feel uncomfortable-“ “NO!” Hendery suddenly yelled, startling both JiHo and himself. In the attempt to clear up misunderstandings between him and JiHo, he let go of her arms. Unfortunately, the sudden movement made him loose his balance. The skateboard rolled from underneath his feet sending him towards the ground with record speed.

Seeing her colleague going down, JiHo quickly reached out to hold Hendery in the hopes of breaking his fall a bit. However her idea backfired as her grip on him only made it so she was pulled along with him to the ground.

Both her left hand and knee made contact with the ground, causing some painful scrapes across the skin – and unfortunately a rip in one of her favourite jeans. Still, her caring side took over, as she, instead of checking on her own wounds, worried over the boy that just fell on his backside onto the ground, harshly. “Oh my God! Are you okay?”

Her eyes skipped over every part of Hendery’s body, trying to see if he got hurt anywhere. Not noticing any wounds at first glance, JiHo grabbed a hold of Hendery’s hands, inspecting them carefully and seeing the scrapes and cuts that adorned the skin.

“Are you okay?” She asked, the concern dripping of her every syllable. All Hendery could do was nod, his eyes fixed on JiHo’s as she hovered over him. “I’m sorry, I should’ve held on more tightly.” She apologised but Hendery quickly shook his head. He wasn’t sure if his voice was going to betray him this time, but he couldn’t let JiHo feel responsible for the accident. “No it’s okay, it’s my fault. ”JiHo’s eyes finally stopped analysing Hendery’s cuts and looked into his own. “Are you okay though?” He asked slowly.

Hendery could feel his heart beat in his throat, an uncomfortable feeling that felt like it was about to hinder his ability to breathe. Why was he feeling like this?

JiHo just nodded in response, the expression on her face completely unreadable now. Did he make her feel uncomfortable? Why was she looking at him like that? But before Hendery’s mind could go back spiralling into a million questions, he hear the sound of a skateboard approaching.

“Wow! What happened here? I’m not bothering you guys am I?” The teasing tone in Yangyang’s voice was very noticeable, causing JiHo to turn around and scowl at him, albeit not in a serious manner. “Do you need some help getting up?” Yangyang asked, this time his tone wasn’t joking at all after noticing the pained expressions from his two friends.

JiHo however declined and pushed herself up on her own, her wounds on her knee and hands becoming visible to the two boys. “JiHo.” Hendery gasped, but before he could say anything Yangyang rushed to her side. “That looks pretty bad. Are you okay?” JiHo nodded yet her actions showed otherwise.

She could only stumble her way to her own board to grab it in her hands. The two boys looked at her confused. “Let’s go home.” She said silently and the two boys agreed. Yangyang pulled his friend up from where he still sat on the ground, making sure he was okay as well. Besides the stinging on his butt and hands where he had landed and braised himself for the fall, he was okay.

The two quickly walked up to JiHo who still seemed to only be able to stumble, every step looking like it hurt her leg. “I can give you a piggy back ride back to the dorm.” Yangyang offered but JiHo just shook her head. “I can still walk.” “But it looks like it hurts. All I’m saying is, I’m being really nice for once, might as well take advantage of it.” The boy’s words received a roll of JiHo’s eyes and small laugh. “I’ll be fine though.” JiHo said, but Yangyang still felt bad and decided to offer her some support in the form of an arm around her waist.

While walking back to the dorm, Yangyang eyed Hendery for a second, who walked on the other side of the girl, but with way more distance between them. “It’s funny how he was the one on the board, but you got hurt the most. How does that even happen?” Yangyang laughed and JiHo joined him, but a lot more quietly.

Hendery’s eyes fell on the two younger members. “Indeed. How does something like that happen? I wish it didn’t.” He thought to himself, letting his head drop down and keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him for the whole walk back.

---

Side Note: this one was a bit longer. I hope you didn’t mind the length. ^^

Also happy Taeyong day <3 

[my-own-oracle]

Could I get a fluffy Drift romantic Valentine thingy?

Of course! Every bot deserves some love. You didn't specify any specific version of Drift, so I'm going with the MTMTE version. If you wanted RID15 or something else, just let me know. Sorry, this kinda got long; I've been without power for the majority of 3 days, this was one of the few things I could to do.

You still kept track of the days that passed on Earth. At first, it was for your own amusement. Wanting to keep track of the time on Earth, but as some holidays came and went, you kept track to keep the connection to your home alive. You kept track of the calendar changes, making a special note when you entered the month of February

You planned, quietly and carefully, gathering spare datapads and using your little stash of credits to purchase a small gift for a particular bot. It was hard keeping the whole thing a secret, considering most of the things you had to hide away were significantly larger than you, but by the power of pure determination, you managed. 

You spent hours locked away in your hab-unit, carefully typing out cheesy Valentine's poems for your friends. Most following the 'roses are red, and violets are blue' format. And when they were done, you beamed. 

You spent the day dragging different data pads around to other bots. Tailgate had even decided to help you for a while, flying you around on his hoverboard, laughing and talking with you as you made your way through the large ship. Even with his help, the event took up most of the day. Slowly everything was handed out. All but one Valentine remained. 

You bid a farewell to Tailgate as he dropped you off at your hab-unit. You had to do this delivery alone. 

This was the Valentine that mattered the most.

**** Drift had spent most of the day with Rodimus, talking about everything from different tactical plans to the many ways the Co-captain could encourage and rally his mechs with a more powerful aura. Or at least Rodimus pretended to listen to that last part. Either way, Drift had spent several hours with his friend. During that time, the spectralist had spied an unusual sight, a datapad in Rodimus' personal quarters. "Did someone slip that in here when you weren't looking?" Rodimus laughed good-naturedly before shaking his helm.

"No, the Space Cadet dropped it off. She's celebrating an earth holiday today and is passing out some gifts to bots she thinks will appreciate them. Rodimus passed the datapad over to Drift, letting him read the short poem written on it.

"Roses are red, And you are too. I am so thankful, To be friends with you." 

Drift found himself smiling as he reads the blurb of text below it, where you explained Valentine's day and its significance to humans in your own culture. 

"So this day is used to express love and gratitude to those around you?" Drift clarified, smiling a little wider as Rodimus nodded.

"She told me humans also use this day as an excuse to express more romantic kinds of love too."

A feeling of jealousy settled in his tanks. 

"(Y/N)- she is truly a wonderful person. Did she pass out many of these?" 

"She had a large stack. You'll probably have one waiting for you in your room," A servo pushed into drifts shoulder plating.

"I doubt that we-" he calms his spark before speaking again. "We may be friends, but we hardly spend time alone together. I think she's frightened of me."

"Uhhh I-"

"She must have learned about some of the things in my past. She can hardly look at me in the optics when we're together, and if we are alone, she can't speak. I fear that I may be terrifying to be around.."

"Okay…. Have you ever thought that maybe your being," Rodumis rolled his optics, "I don't know, a little overdramatic?" 

Drift pondered the thought. But no matter how he looked at it, the hesitant gaze, the fidgeting when together, the quietness she only had around him, all signs pointed to her fearing him.

"Drift, please, don't make me be the responsible one. It goes against my entire being." 

Silence lapsed again.

"I am not spelling this out for you," Rodimus stood, pulling Drift to his peds and shoving him out the door. "Come back when you're done being a sparkling. Go talk to her," the door shut, leaving Drift to walk back to his hab-unit.

****

You could feel your heart racing under your ribs. Thundering with each step you took, leading you to pause every few meters. 'This is so stupid. I can't do this.' you told yourself for the hundredth time. 

"You alright there, Space Cadet?" you snapped your head behind you, spying Rodimus standing maybe a few feet away. When had he snuck up on you?

"I'm fine, just lost in my head." you face back towards Drifts unit, your confidence waning with each passing second.

"Is that another one of those valentines?" Rodimus squatted down to you your level, a servo reaching out to the special datapad you had placed on the hall floor. 

"No," you dashed in front of his hand. "Nothing of interest, really. It's just like the one I gave to you and everybody else."

"And I suppose the box next to it is nothing too," you took a large step to the right, standing between the white and red wrapped box you had next to the Data-pad, before sharing a small, shy smile with the co-captain.

"It's- it's nothing." your voice was softer than you wanted it to be. The smug look on Rodimus' face told you he didn't buy it. "I wanted to give a gift to someone, and if I was on Earth, I would give a special someone candy. I found out Cybertronians can eat energon candies, and I bought a crystal of it as a gift. But it's stupid. He probably won't like it anyways." 

You sunk your head closer to your shoulders. "Just giving him a poem and a piece of candy isn't going to make someone like him notice me." Your fingers worked at the hem of your shirt, rolling the worn material as a means to work out the lump you felt forming in your throat.

Rodimus held his servo out to you, a silent invitation to 'climb up' as he so often said. You took it, settling down into his palm. You watched as he carefully gathered your measly gift into his other servo and began walking in the direction you needed to go.

"So, you like this mech, and you're worried he doesn't like you." You nod. "Who is it?"

"I'd rather not say."

"It's not Ultra Magnus, is it?" You snap a playful glare at your friend. "I just needed to know, I'd still support you, but I won't be thrilled."

"No, it's not Magnus." you heard his vent of relief. Thundering footsteps filled the hall as Rodimus carried you farther a small way.

"so…"

"It- I, Drift," you whispered. "It's for Drift." You were thankful Rodimus didn't outright laugh. He did his best to stay composed. You could feel it in the way his digits curled for a moment, him gasping for air as he tried to talk.

"You think, he- you dont realize-" giggles filled the space between each attempted sentence.

"Yes, I like Drift. Go on, get it out. The little silly human is in love with a bot who probably couldn't care less, who's so far out of her league it's embarrassing." The lump in your throat returned, this time accompanied by a burning feeling behind your eyes. You took a few calming breaths, refusing to cry in such a frustrating situation.

"Oh stars, you're hopeless." Rodimus was smiling, oblivious to your emotional turmoil or not caring about it. "Trust me," he lifted you level with his politics, "He'll be thrilled."

***** Drift sat in his hab-unit, wondering how he could use this Valentine's day thing to his advantage. Find a way to earn some positive affection, and talk to you.

He was coming up blank; you were beloved. There was no way you would give up your time to talk to a bot who terrified you. If only he knew a way to quell your fear and maybe show that he wasn't such a bad bot. Drift heard his door open but didn't turn from his desk. His EM field told him it was Rodimus. 

"Yo." Rodimus walks over to Drift, and before he can turn, his friend grips the closest servo to him. Drift feels you more than sees you, as you're practically tossed into his servo. His optics widen monetarily, and he throws his other servo around you, desperately trying to keep you from falling.

You have his full attention, so much so that the sound of Rodimus putting your gift down on Drift's desk before walking out hardly registers in his audials. Rodimus' smug "You'll thank me later" rings aloud and as the door slides shut behind him.

Drift cautiously checks you over for injuries.  Slowly you roll over, sitting up and trying to look up into Drift's optics. 

Your eyes can barely go past his chassis.

"Are you alright?" Drift questions. His optics take over you again, first your body, then your aura.  

"Hi Drift, I'm alright" you raise your hand in a little wave,  you sound a little frightened, and he watches as your body tenses. "I'm sorry for-uh- barging in like this. But I wanted to bring you a valentines gift." you waved your hand to the small offering on the desk beside him. "It's been delivered, so I'll stop bothering you now, I'm so sorry to have-"

"You are not bothering me," he smiles down at you. You're nervous; that much is plain to see.  He turns his attention to your gift. While the box interests him, he takes the datapad first. 

"Roses are red, And you are kind. I hold you in my heart, always on my mind."

He watches from the corner of his optics as you become red, the color complimenting the flustered pink in your aura. 

"The poem is beautiful," he smiles, but you don't look at him in the optic. He puts down the pad and reaches for the box. The lid removes easily, and he is touched by the piece of energon candy you had inside. 

"Thank you for my gifts, though I will say I'm surprised you gave me one," your eyes snapped to his optics wide and hurt.

"Why, you're my friend." Your question was soft, so quiet should he had been organic, he wouldn't have heard it. 

"You're frightened of me, so I didnt think you would take the time to make me a gift."

"I'm not frightened of you," your hand reached our reassuringly to one of the digits around you, "What gave you that impression?"

Drift listed the clues he had gathered over the few months you'd been aboard, noting that with each one, a look of guilt took form over your face.

"Drift- I-I am not afraid of you," you stood abruptly, hopping from his hand to his desk "do you know what valentine's day is all about on earth?" 

"It's about showing your affection to those in your life," your smile made his spark hum. It was soft, there was fear, but he focused in closer and saw in your aura; it wasn't a fear of him.

"Correct, but only half correct. It's also about telling people who don't know you lo-" you took a breath. "Some humans use this day to confess their love for another person." He could see the struggle you had to keep your eyes at his optics. "Those things I did, the ones that made you think I was scared of you, I did them because I was nervous. I really like you Drift, I would go as far as to say love, but I'm frightened at what you'll do, what you'll think." 

He brought his servo to you again, two digits brushing your cheek and your hair. "If I were human, and it was Valentine's day, what should I do to quell your fears? How am I supposed to respond if I feel the same way about you?" 

You leaned into his digits, your body relaxing from a tension he hadn't realized you had been holding in.

"You just did."