#but yeah I forgot that said friend was barely older than me until after I left and then I was like ‘hold on a second’

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Yesterday my friend was telling me a story about how he drank eight shots of tequila mixed with two energy drinks and then woke up without a hangover and went to work just fine. And we were joking about how the shock of two energy drinks and the shock of 1.5 cups of straight tequila probably canceled each other out when he looked me dead in the eye and very seriously said “Don’t drink until you’re twenty-one and do it responsibly” like an older sibling suddenly getting protective. This man is only a few months older than me and also is not twenty-one yet.

Anyways it gives me Jack Kelly vibes cause you know that boy is constantly lecturing the younger newsies (they are three months younger) about how to be safe while you’re out selling and to stay away from drugs and alcohol and Charlie is just there in the background recounting every idiotic thing Jack has done in the past week alone

[entink]

Camp Nightmare

A bunch of little kids at a summer camp. Sounds fun right? The kids wouldn’t say that though. On there last night of camp, well, what was supposed to be their last night of camp, the unspeakable happened. Leaving 10 kids scarred for life. You’d think they wouldn’t ever go back to that camp right? Well…they came back…10 years later, only for their scarred past to come back and haunt them.

————————————/////————————————

Camp Lakewood.

Located in a dense forest in the middle of nowhere. Miles away from civilization. No kid would ever want to spend their summer there. And yet, a class of about 40 kids were forced to be there. Not even the teachers didn’t want to be there.

They had arrived at the camp a week ago and the class consisting of 8 to 10 year olds weren’t really having the “time of their lives” as their counselors described. Sure, they’d gotten to go hiking and see some cool animals, but that was about it.

Now, everyone was on their way back to the camp from some exploring in the woods. “Hey, kids. I have some great news,” one of the counselors said enthusiastically. “Your teachers have decided to extend your stay here by another day! Yay!” His enthusiasm was short lived. The kids didn’t seem to excited. They all just looked up at him and then down at the ground sadly.

“Well, I’m excited,” one kid named Jake said proudly. “I want to go fishing again,” he said. “Ugh. All you talked about this whole time was fishing,” his friend, Sunoo, said. The two of them started arguing back and forth before the counselor made them stop.

After a few more minutes of walking, they arrived at the camp just as the sun started to set. “Alright kids. Dinner will be served at 8 as usual so just rest in your rooms until then,” the counselor said. He walked off with his clipboard as the rest of the students started heading for the cabins. Most headed inside as soon as they were able, some staying outside for a bit to talk to their friends, or to play some card games.

————————————/////————————————

Jake arrived at his room seeing that his roommates were already there: Sunoo and Jungwon. The three of them had been friends for…not a long time actually. They only met each other when they were assigned to be roommates when they first got to Camp Lakewood a week ago. But despite that, they were already close.

“What do they have for dinner?” Sunoo asked as he laid in his bed. Jake took off his backpack and flopped into his bed, rolling into his back. “How would we know? But I don’t care what we have. I’ve got better things to do.” “What does that mean? You’re only 8. You don’t have a lot to do anyway,” Jungwon said with a grin, his tiny dimples on display. Jake rolled over onto his side facing Jungwon as he thought about how to reply to that statement.

After a minute, he came up with a response. “Well…you’re younger than me!” he stated, pointing towards his friend accusingly. Jungwon shook his head, “Barely. But what are you going to do?” “Huh?” Jake replied dumbfounded. Sunoo chuckled softly. “You said you had important things to do. How did you forget that already?” “Oh right! Yeah, I forgot. I got this new book and I’ve been waiting all week to read it. I’m gonna read it today no matter what! Even if I have to skip dinner!” Jake declared as he pulled out the book, ‘Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows’.

“Wow, you’re reading that?” Jungwon asked incredulously. “Mhm!” “Really? But that’s the stuff that the older kids read,” Sunoo said in amazement. Jake nodded eagerly as he flipped through the pages. “Yeah, but my mom did always tell me I’m smart for my age.” Jungwon and Sunoo nodded their heads. “Well, I’m going to take a nap,” Sunoo said as he yawned. As he settled himself into bed, he added, “Have fun I guess. Wake me up for dinner.” “I’ll take a nap too,” Jungwon said. With that, they both closed their eyes and were instantly asleep. Jake continued flipping through his book.

————————————/////————————————

Niki, Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon were all lounging around in their room. Just like the first three, these four boys are friends as well. They’d actually been friends ever since they were babies since they grew up in the same neighborhood. Jay was lying on his stomach with his feet up against the wall while he watched Niki, Sunghoon, and Heeseung play their game. “And that’s Uno game!” Heeseung shouted excitedly. Niki and Sunghoon groaned. “How come you always win?! This isn’t fair…” Niki said with a pout. Heeseung grinned. “Sorry, but I’m just better than you guys.”

“Whatever, let’s do something else. This is boring anyway,” Sunghoon said. “You’re only saying that because you keep losing,” Heeseung said as stuck out his tongue. “Oh yeah, shut up,” Sunghoon muttered angrily. “Come on! Come on! Come on!” Niki said impatiently, “Let’s do something fun!” “Well…what do you want to do then?” Sunghoon and Niki shrugged their shoulders. Heeseung turned to Jay, “What about you?”

Jay shook his head. “I don’t know. And I’m going to sleep anyway so keep it quiet.” Heeseung put his hand on his chin as he thinked, “Well…” he said as he leaned against Jay’s bed, “There’s this story I heard about this camp…” Niki and Sunghoon leaned in closer. “What story?” they both asked.

Heeseung smiled and began telling the story. “They said that like 100 years ago or something, there was a whole bunch of people who used to live here. And those people were pirates. And then there was a like a…um…a war…or something so the pirate buried the treasure that he had with him…somewhere at this camp.” He paused. “And the pirate was never able to get his treasure back so it’s still somewhere here.”

Sunghoon squinted his eyes at Heeseung, “There’s no way that’s true.” Heeeseung shook his head. “It’s totally true.” Niki looked at Heeseung with sparkles in his eyes. “So it’s true? Like, really, really, really true?” Heeseung nodded with a smug look on his face. “That’s. So. Awesome!” Jay sighed and covered his ears, “Didn’t I say to be quiet? And that story’s not even true.” “Yes it is! If Heeseung said it’s true then it is!” Niki retorted. Jay groaned. “Whatever…”

Suddenly, Niki gasped, “We should go and look for the buried treasure.” “No,” Jay deadpanned. “Why not?” Niki questioned. “Because it’s not real and you all would just be wasting-“ “Let’s do it!” Sunghoon loudly interrupted. “Yeah! Let’s do it!” Heeseung agreed excitedly. “Yeah, I wanna check it out,” Niki said excitedly. Jay sighed again and sat up.

“How would you even find buried treasure in a place this big. You don’t even have a map or-“ “Let’s go!” Niki yelled enthusiastically, cutting off Jay. “Alright then, but we have to be quiet so we don’t get caught by the counselors or teachers,” Heeseung warned. Niki and Sunghoon nodded vigorously.

The three boys made their way to their room window. Heeseung was about to open when a voice spoke up from behind. “Wait a minute,” Jay said as he rolled out of the bed and put his shoes on. Heeseung stopped opening the window. “What?” he asked. “I’m going too... You three would probably be lost without me anyway,” Jay explained. Heeseung grinned at his friend, happy that he decided to go.

He opened the window, “Time to hunt for treasure!” Niki raised his tiny fist in the air, “Treasure hunt!” The boys chuckled at Niki before exiting out the window one by one.

————————————/////————————————

Meanwhile in their shared room, Surin, Minhee, and Bomi didn’t seem to be getting along as well as the other kids. “Give it back!” Surin demanded. “I didn’t steal your stupid nail polish!” Bomi yelled. “Yes you did!” Minhee joined in. “No I didn’t!” Bomi argued. “Yes you did!” Surin yelled. “Stop yelling!” Bomi snapped. “Shut up!” Minhee yelled back. Bomi huffed and laid down in her bed with her back facing the two girls.

Surin and Minhee were best friends. They’re inseparable. So it’s no surprise that they would take each others side in the argument. Bomi on the other hand, didn’t like them one bit. Mainly because those two were basically bullies.

“Whatever. Let’s play with my makeup,” Surin stated as she walked over to her nightstand and pulled out a small bag filled with her makeup. “Your mom lets you use makeup? My mommy always says that I’m too young,” Minhee commented as she stood beside Surin. “Well, my mom and dad said I’m mature,” Surin smirked. Bomi rolled her eyes from where she was on the bed.

“Anyway,” Minhee said as she grabbed some bright pink lipstick, “Dinner is going to start soon-“ “Uh-uh! I’m not going,” Surin said with crossed arms. Minhee tilted her head at her. “But you never skip dinner. Why do you want to do it now?” she asked. Surin tilted her chin up at the girl, “I’m going on a diet now.” Minhee scrunched her face up at her. “What’s a diet?” she asked, looking confused.

“Heh. Of course you don’t know. You’re too young afterall. But, a diet is when you don’t eat food so that you can be skinny,” Surin explained proudly. Even though she was completely wrong. “Ohh” Minhee replied, understanding what Surin meant. (Not really) “I want to do a diet too!” Minhee blurted out. “Good. Now we can do it together,” Surin smiled as she sloppily put on a glowing green lipstick. “Yay!” Minhee squealed happily.

Both girls were having fun, but the same couldn’t be said for Bomi. She covered her ears from the squeals that threatened to enter and damage her brain. Bomi grumbled, ‘Why did the two of them have to be so noisy?’ Bomi closed her eyes and attempted to fall asleep but that was hard when they were being so loud and hyperactive.

After a while, Bomi gave up and turned onto her back. She was staring at the bed above her when she noticed that the two girls were whispering about something. Bomi narrowed her eyes, wondering what they could be talking about. As soon as Bomi moved her to them, the girls suddenly stopped whispering. “Hey Bomi! Are you awake?” Minhee asked. She stared at her confusedly. “Uhh yeah…why?” Bomi replied.

“Well, we need help getting something out of the closet,” she explained. Bomi’s eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t understand why they needed her help. “You’re taller than us so maybe you can get it? Pretty please?” Minhee pleaded with a pour. “Umm…” Bomi thought about it and decided to agree, “Okay…” Minhee and Surin smiled widely. “Thank you!”

Bomi nodded her head and walked to the closet. She slowly opened the door and peeked inside. It was very dark and smelled like dust. Bomi wrinkled her nose. “What do you need?” she coughed out. “My dress. It’s on that top shelf up there,” Surin told her. Bomi stepped further into the closet. “I don’t think I can reach-“ her next words were replaced with a gasp when the closet door suddenly slammed shut behind her. She quickly spun around with wide eyes.

“Hey! Why did you do that?! Open the door!” she yelled. “Sorry~” Surin apologized in a sing songy voice. Bomi stomped her foot angrily, “Open the door! Or else!” she threatened. “Or else?” Minhee repeated. “Or else I’ll…I’ll tell the teacher…And you’ll get in trouble!” “How would you even do that when you’re stuck in there?” Surin laughed.

Bomi gritted her teeth and started banging on the door, “Open the door! Let me out!” Surin and Minhee giggled and sat on the as they listened to Bomi struggle. “Hey, it’s dinner time,” Minhee pointed out. “Who cares? We’re going on diets anyway,” Surin scoffed. Bomi kept pounding on the door, “Come on let me out! I won’t tell anyone! Please!” she begged.

“Come on, just wait a little more and then we’ll let you out!” Surin exclaimed. Bomi yelled, “Someone help! Help me!” and started sobbing heavily. She lowered herself down to the floor and hugged her knees. “I’m scared…” she whispered to herself.

And so those are 10 kids who didn’t go to dinner that night as everyone else in the camp enjoyed their feast. And though most of them were upset about their missed dinner, they will soon realize just how lucky they were to have missed it.

[kobedivision]

ARB Birthday Special: Kaiji Sano

~~ October 27th ~~

“If you were mine, if you were only mine, I'd bring you so much further down and twist your mind until the end of time.”

Login Lines:

“Hey cuties! It’s your favorite adorable cosplayer, Jinx here!…Ahaha! Wow, all of you are coming in fast, I can barely keep up! Oh! Thank you for the donation JinxLuver76! Let’s see here…’Happy Birthday Jinx!’”

“Oh that’s right! Haha! I can’t believe I forgot my own birthday, thank you soooo much everyone! I guess we can make this an impromptu birthday live! Let’s make this something to remember, okay?”

Voice Lines:

“Damn, 22 years old and I still look like I just graduated high school, not that I’m complaining, I mean who wouldn’t want to look young and beautiful? I wouldn’t trade it for anything, even if I have to deal with having to get carded at every bar and club I go to, how infuriating.”

“I’ve gotten to many messages and gifts from my fans, it just warms my heart! There’s nothing like the feeling of being pampered, I tell you and I especially deserved to be celebrated after all the shit I’ve gone through.”

“Yes mom, thank you and for the 14th time, I’m okay, Nagisa’s okay too, we’re both fine, you don’t have to come over, we know your busy with the boutique….fine, I’ll pop in just to say hi but I’m really busy today so I don’t have much time. Yeah, I love you too, tell Dad I said hi or whatever.”

“God, having 4 older brothers fucking suck. You’d think that being one of the younger members in the family, you’d get more attention and don’t get me wrong, I do, just not the attention I would like. Henri only gave me a list of various rehab clinics, Izana gave me a guide to healthy relationships book, Mikiya gave me five fucking dollars, and I haven’t heard jack shit from Claude! At least Nagisa was considerate enough to get me something that I can actually use! Sometimes I have to wonder just why my parents decided to have so many fucking kids…”

“ReeeeenReeeeen!!! Aw, I was hoping to see you! After all, how could you forget your best and most cutest friend ever? Hey, it’s MY day today! I can be as selfish as I want! Ha! That’s right, and this monarch demands gifts and I know you got some so hand it over, my loyal knight!”

“Dude, holy shit! These are so fucking pretty!! Way better than the ones I have! Awww, Ayano really knows her stuff! Good to know that at least one of you has a decent sense of fashion…Dude, I swear I see you wear the same leather and chains combo almost every day, it’s so overdone. Hehe, I’m right and you know it but seriously man, thanks for the gift.”

“GAH!! Oh goddamnit-MAX! Don’t fucking appear out of nowhere like that! You scared the shit out of me!…We both know you’re not sorry you little shit, I can see you smirking! Yes you are! Ugh, I swear, it’s like talking to a fucking wall-Huh? Oh…wow…thanks..?”

“Max…these are fucking rocks…hold on, you got these from a river?! I didn’t think there were rivers in Kobe…er, whatever, huh…well, look at you finally socializing and making friends, never thought I’d see the day. Jeez, okay! Okay!…Look, thank you Max, I know we don’t talk much but I want you to know that you mean a lot to me, y’know? You’re like another brother to me, one that I actually like, haha!”

Ren Lines:

“Hey Kai, happy birthday! *snorts* Yeah, okay. I know it’s your birthday and all but try not to get too big of a head. Fine, fine, whatever you say, your majesty. *chuckles* Damn, guess I’m not as subtle as I thought, yeah, you got me, here you go.”

“I know you already have some finger jewelry but I figured you could always have more, Ayano actually helped me choose which ones to give you, she’s surprisingly got a good eye for accessorizing…hey, what the hell’s that supposed to mean? I’m totally fashionable! *sighs* Fine, whatever, you’re lucky we’re friends, dude.”

Max Lines:

“….Kaiji…Sorry…Didn’t mean to scare you…*smirks*…No, I’m not….Shush…here you go…a gift…it’s your birthday, yeah?…Happy Birthday, I hope you like it….I spent a long time getting them…”

“Yeah….they’re rocks…I got them while in the river…and I had someone make necklaces out of them…*scoffs*…just shut up and take them…Thanks Kaiji…you and Ren…the both of you…you guys make me really…happy…brothers…yeah, we’re brothers…and we’ll always stick together.”

[skyler10fic]

To Have and to Hold: Ch. 10 Discussion Driven

Summary: Daisy and Carol go over some premarital counseling questions on their way to meeting with Mack, the minister marrying them. Then Carol makes an important decision.   

Read on Ao3

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The 30-day countdown to the wedding began with a Sunday afternoon premarital counseling session with Mack. He promised it wouldn’t be too religious or psychoanalytical, but it was just to make sure Daisy and Carol were on the same page before he married them. As their friend and older brother in their found family, Mack knew Daisy and Carol were ready for marriage and fully devoted to one another, but there were certain conversations that were best had in a structured, facilitated format, he explained. He sent them the list ahead of time so they could talk through their answers, but with all the wedding planning on the more practical side, and work getting busy, and little things that popped up… Daisy realized as they were leaving that they had barely talked through the list of questions at all. 

“How did we forget this?” Daisy asked as shame twisted her stomach. She grabbed her purse and her phone and looked around their apartment, feeling off-kilter with this realization. What else was she forgetting? 

“We’ve been busy.” Carol laughed it off and grabbed her car keys and sunglasses. “I’m sure it happens to a lot of couples.” 

“It’s kind of important,” Daisy said pointedly as they walked out the door. Carol returned her raised eyebrow and locked the door behind them. 

“I know. I didn’t say it wasn’t. Just that it’s understandable, that’s all.” Carol shrugged and hit the elevator button. The elevator was already occupied so they made small talk with their neighbors on the way down and out to the parking lot. When they were in the car and ready to go, Carol suggested as a peace offering, “Traffic’s going to take us at least half an hour, which is why we’re leaving early, yeah?” 

“Yes,” Daisy confirmed as she pulled up the GPS app on her phone and plugged it into the car’s system. 

“Why don’t you read the questions from the email, and by the time we’re there, we’ll have our answers ready for Mack to tell us how mature and responsible we are. He’ll be so impressed, he’ll never know we forgot until the last minute.” Carol couldn’t see Daisy’s expression in reply while she was busy backing the car out and starting to drive down the road to the highway, but if she had, she would have seen Daisy borrow a look from Melinda that said she was unamused but going along with it. 

“Okay, let me see.” Daisy opened the email attachment and started with the first question. “Where do you hope to live after you get married?” 

“I like where we are, but a house would be nice,” Carol recited. They had talked about this before, even daydreaming on real estate apps for a pretty first real home together with more space than their apartment. 

“Same. Second question, do we want pets?” Daisy’s tone told Carol that she was surprised these were so basic to start. 

“I think a dog would be cool, but you don’t want to clean up after it and we like to travel, so for now, no, but maybe someday?” Carol left it open-ended in hope. 

“If you’re lucky,” Daisy sighed, “yes, one day, maybe. But we’d need a yard and to be home more.”

“Fully agree. Next?” Carol flicked on her turn signal and merged into traffic to get on the backed-up highway. Yep, they were going to be here a while. 

“Hm. How involved do we want our families to be in our lives?” Daisy’s tone softened, knowing the answer, but Carol’s answer was nonchalant. 

“Yours, as much as they are already; mine is what it is so preferably not, with a few exceptions; and our friend-family, the more the merrier.” 

“Yeah. For sure.” Daisy paused and read Carol’s nonverbal cues, but she seemed genuinely fine, so she carried on. “And speaking of family, he asks, do we want kids?”   

“Honestly? No change here from me on that,” Carol admitted. “You know I love Monica and Alfie, and if Jemma and Fitz have some of course we’ll be aunts to them too, but I just don’t really see myself…” She glanced over at Daisy. “Do you…?”

“Me either,” Daisy confirmed in relief. “You’re such a good godmother to Monica, and if I may say so, we are kickass aunts, so I was a little worried you might want our own. I used to think I did, but it was just how it’s expected for all women to want to be moms, you know?” 

“Yeah.” Carol started to open her mouth to say more but went silent as traffic came to a stop. 

“What is it?” Daisy prodded delicately. “It’s okay if you need to say more. That’s what these are for.”

“This is not for Mack, just for us, okay?” She looked to Daisy for reassurance and Daisy nodded. “I’ve had this dream—just a few times, not a lot—that somehow I got you pregnant, which obviously isn’t even possible, but it’s a dream, so. Anyway, you were super pregnant and so mad at me because you didn’t even want kids, and I didn’t know what to say to make you feel better.” 

“Aw, babe.” Daisy tried hard not to laugh. “I guess that’s better than my dream.” 

“Wait, what was yours?” 

“Remember? After we moved in together, I had that dream that we had this plan that because I’m bi I had to be the one to carry our baby because I had to sleep with the sperm donor and it was Kevin the barista?!” 

Carol groaned. “Oh, that’s right. I erased that from my memory. Ugh. Kevin.” 

“Yeah, how do you think I feel? I had to keep ordering coffee as if nothing was weird and this guy hadn’t knocked me up in a dream!” Daisy giggled. “Okay, so to answer Mack’s question, no babies here. Or, yes babies, but only other people’s babies temporarily, like his. You know what I mean.” 

“No babies, except the kind that go home to their own parents at the end of the day,” Carol echoed wholeheartedly. Traffic began moving again and it was time to move on in their questions as well. “What’s next?” 

Daisy read over the next few. “I think we are good on these. Religion, holidays, cultural stuff?”

“Yeah, I am still not interested in organized religion. Fine for others, just not my thing. We already celebrate all our holidays together. I am sort of vague on what my culture is besides basic, white, American lesbian. I guess we could know more of queer history.” 

“Actually, I’ve been thinking…” Daisy scrunched her brow. 

“Is this where you tell me you’ve been a secret religious devotee this whole time?” Carol teased.

Daisy broke her pensive mood with a laugh. “No, I meant, I’d like to maybe go to China again, or at least learn more about it.” 

“Oh! Yeah, I’d love to go. You haven’t been since high school, right?” 

Daisy looked out the window. “Yeah, it was my senior trip before college. It was really intense. I don’t think my grandparents are up to it again now, but my mom has always talked about going back, seeing her cousins who moved to Hong Kong, learning our family heritage. I learned Mandarin as a kid and still knew enough to test out of my foreign language credits in college, but I want to come back to it, you know? I don’t want to lose it completely. It’s part of me.”

“Aw, that is beautiful.” Carol held out her right hand and Daisy took it, and Carol squeezed, unable to hug her properly at the moment, before returning it to the wheel. “And I’m here for anything you need: help planning the trip or studying or making family recipes or whatever you want to do. Hell, I’d try to learn Mandarin too. I might not be great at it, but I could at least learn something!” 

Daisy smiled and thanked her, but she knew Carol thrived on challenges like Mandarin. No one would assume it of her as an athletic bombshell blonde in torn-up jeans, band T-shirts, and a ballcap, but Carol the rocket scientist was a literal genius. Sometimes even Daisy would forget just how smart Carol was until she’d start talking about something she designed being launched into space. It helped that this nerdiness and curiosity were significant turn-ons for Daisy. 

“What’s next on the list?” Carol asked, pulling Daisy out of her swooning. Daisy sat up straighter and checked the email attachment on her phone.

“Ah. This one is probably something we should have discussed more earlier.” Daisy grimaced. “Are we changing our names?” 

“Hm. I know you don’t want to.” Carol kept her right hand on the wheel but propped her left elbow on the window sill and pressed her fingers to her temple. It’s not that she hadn’t thought about it. She just hadn’t come to any conclusions. And their exit was coming up, so it was time to decide. 

“I didn’t say that exactly,” Daisy hedged, and then the words spilled out. “True, I don’t really want to change mine. But, I did want to offer, since things with your family are what they are, if you want to be a Coulson, please know that that would be more than okay. We’re your family now, and yes, it could make things worse with your parents, but how much worse can they be, right?”

“Daiz.” Carol stopped Daisy’s rushed rambling. Her eyes stayed on the road as she chose her words carefully. “I am not saying never, but I’m just not ready for that right now. Okay?” 

“Of course.” Daisy placed her hand on Carol’s thigh. “I just want you to know, it’s yours if you want it.”

Carol nodded and pressed the back of her fingers to her lips for a second as she tried to get her thoughts into words. “Carol Coulson,” she mumbled. 

“Mrs. Carol Coulson,” Daisy added. 

“Doctor if I ever finish school,” Carol groaned as she steered the car down the exit ramp and toward Mack’s office. 

“No, no, no.” Daisy stopped that line of thinking in its tracks. “We’re not talking about unfinished doctorate shame today. Or until this wedding is done. That’s our rule.”    

Carol had started a PhD after finishing her master’s in spacecraft design and materials, but her career at Stark Industries had taken all of her time and more for the last year. It dangled over her like a cloud, though less present now than it had been when she had had to file an official leave to put her degree on hold with the university. She’d felt like a complete failure for months until she’d received word that her work (at her actual, paying job) was approved for a collaboration between Stark Industries and NASA. 

Daisy redirected their attention to the list and hurried through the last few categories. “The next part is about money, which we have already been doing.”

“Been there, fought about that, worked it out, made a budget we stick to, all good.” Carol confirmed. 

“Ooo then some spicy ones,” Daisy said with a silly eyebrow waggle. “What are our expectations around sex?” 

Carol scoffed. “That’s not really on there, is it? Mack is about to ask us about our sex life?” 

“It is! I swear,” Daisy defended. “For what it’s worth, though, I think our sex life is great and we do not need to talk about that with him.” 

“Yes,” Carol affirmed. “We’ve got that part figured out. Probably our area of expertise out of any of this.”

Daisy snorted a laugh. “File that under things we are definitely not saying in this meeting.” 

They pulled into the building’s parking lot. It was a nonprofit community center that held the offices of directors, ministry leaders, social workers, and more along this side. Mack’s SUV wasn’t there yet, so they still had time. 

“Alright, lightning round, and there are right and wrong answers.” Daisy held up the phone like a game show host holding a trivia question card. “Monogamous?” 

“Yes,” Carol answered quickly. 

“Correct. Do we make each other better, emotionally healthier people?” 

“A thousand percent yes.”

“Correct down to the exact accurate calculation. Impressive,” Daisy teased. “When we have conflict, do we fight fair and end up with closure?”

“Yeah, I’d say so. Would you?” Carol tilted her head as she waited for Daisy’s answer.

Daisy thought seriously about it. “I can’t think of a time when we didn’t eventually. We definitely got better at not avoiding conflict when it needed to happen—and, like, not needing to have the conflict to begin with. Okay, there are more but they would take a lot longer to answer, and that’s Mack’s Tahoe pulling up.” Daisy pointed behind Carol. 

They got out of the car and greeted their friend, knowing they had a very vulnerable hour and a half ahead of them. Daisy had skipped harder-to-answer questions further down the list, like “How would you define infidelity,” “What makes you feel loved,” “How do you know you can trust each other,” and “What does your partner do that makes you feel rejected or unloved?” but Mack walked them though the tough conversations with his pastoral tone and wise guidance. While questions about their expectations, dreams, opinions, and beliefs went smoothly—as well as the pragmatic side of sharing a life—it was still hard for Carol to talk about her past. He recommended a few therapists he knew that might be a good fit, two of whom were queer women who had similar stories to hers. 

As they left and drove home, Carol admitted that she might not have been open to going to therapy or seen the need had he asked before today. But talking over so much of their lives, she realized it was probably a good idea to at least go for a few sessions. 

Daisy agreed. “And if it’s not helpful or you don’t need it, you don’t have to go back.” 

“There might be some things that come up,” Carol confessed, gripping the steering wheel, “that I need you to be there for. Not only for support, but because I might not be able to say it all again and I want you to know what happened. Specifically. You know the general stories, but the missing details are harder to talk about.”

“Babe, of course,” Daisy assured her. “I will be there whenever you need me.”

They treated themselves to dinner out on the way home as a reward for the emotional work they had done. By the time they were finished eating, though, they were eager to be home and quiet together, watching one of their shows, wrapped up in each other’s arms. There had been enough difficult conversations for the day. Sometimes the stillness of a TV-lit living room is exactly what a couple needs to recover from a vulnerable day of planning not only a wedding but an entire lifetime together. 

—---- 

Phil brought up the question of the name change on their next video chat. Daisy tried to deflect, but Carol reassured her it was okay. 

“We decided not to hyphenate,” Carol began.

Phil shrugged. “I know it’s an old-fashioned idea, but Carol, you’re already family either way. Just wanted you to know we’re supportive no matter what you two decide.” 

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about it.” Carol took Daisy’s hand and looked at her instead of the computer screen as she made her decision. “I’d like to be a Coulson, if that’s alright with you.” 

Daisy blinked in surprise and then a delighted smile bloomed. “Yes! Of course!” She took a breath and contained her excitement as she read Carol’s expression carefully. “Are you sure?” 

Carol nodded, turning back to the screen. “My parents have made their decision. I didn’t send them an invitation, but I told my brother he could bring them as his guests if they wanted. He said they aren’t speaking to him either now. Not that they were particularly close before either.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Melinda frowned in empathy on the screen. “I know we can’t fix that or erase it.”

“It does help though,” Carol assured. “I love you guys, and my aunts were very on board with this. They also gave me the idea of having my brother reach out to our parents without directly inviting them and having to wonder if they were going to show up.” 

Phil raised an eyebrow. “No one needs extra anxiety on their wedding day, and that sounds like a bullet dodged. No offense.”

“None at all.” Carol squeezed Daisy’s hand. “And maybe if we have the same last name, no one will mistake us as friends or roommates. I want everyone to know I’m your wife,” she said to Daisy, and then to Phil and Melinda, “And your daughter-in-law.”  

Daisy quipped, “Good. And I won’t have to answer the question of where my husband is if I can introduce you as my wife, Mrs. Carol Coulson.”

“It does sound good,” Melinda remarked.

“Yeah, nice ring to it,” Phil added before realizing the wedding pun. 

“I agree,” Daisy quipped and held up Carol’s left hand with her engagement ring in demonstration. 

“I meant it sounds like a famous author or something!” Phil clarified with a chuckle at the joke he’d accidentally walked into. 

The girls laughed and teased Carol about writing a sci-fi series, to which she joked back, “Well, never say never! I could, you know.” 

In the fun family moment, Daisy and Carol didn’t mention the long road ahead of therapy to heal from the lifetime of circumstances that led to this conversation of distancing herself from the Danvers name. And Phil and Melinda focused on the joy, not mentioning how, when they happened to see the Danvers parents around town on the rare occasion, Melinda’s death glare had been enough to send Sue Danvers running in shame.   

The first step was procuring the marriage license with Carol’s new name, which would be the key required document to start the rest of the legal process when she and Daisy returned from their honeymoon. It wouldn’t be a short or easy to-do list, but Carol knew in her gut this was the right decision, especially from the warmth that comforted her when Daisy called her by her new full name. Maybe someday it would be as ordinary as breathing, but for the moment, it felt like freedom. 

[umflowers]

hi! uh just a warning this is fairly nsfw but i don't really know where else i can vent abt this so sorry 😅 you were just kind of the first person who came to mind for telling this bc i don't rlly wanna talk to my friends or whoever about this. anwyays. all nsfw from now on! slight mention of sa btw (sorry!)

so! today i tried to get myself off for the first time in ever, i'm pretty sure. i probably tried to like, search around in that region when i was little? because i was curious as to what's down there but not sure of the language to actually google it, but i don't think that that counts. anyway! i'm just like. ok so i tried two times today technically: in and right after i got out of the shower (maybe like 6pm est? also counting those as the same time because there was a very much negligible gap between them) and about an hour and five-ten minutes ago, bc no one was home other than me and my dog.

first time: i did NAUGHT know what i was doing, anatomy wise. specifically, according the planned parenthood diagram i looked at right right after getting out of the shower (part of the negligible gap), i was going for the urethra. oops. but thanks to the mighty power of planned parenthood, i figured it out! i tried for a little bit, just experimenting, and i'm pretty sure i was getting the hang of it! at least until i had to take my dog out bc he needed to go out. but after that, i was like, THRUMMING with excitement, because well, i was excited! after i got out of the shower, i was playing 'summer' by circadian clock and baethoven, btw. not rlly relevant, just what i had playing before i went to shower, i just felt like mentioning that.

second time: i get everything rlly prepared. i put on agora hills (the doja cat song) to try and set the mood. i lie down, and i try (now with the knowledge of where the clit is), and i STILL can't do it. not even after like, 45 minutes!!!! which is honestly just ridiculous. i get myself wet a couple times, which is nice, because it means that i'm not completely fucking up (how that's the first swear word in this i have no idea but 🤷‍♂️ we move), but it's still annoying because i kept on drying up after a certain point!!! which is just soooo annoying and i'm just. it didn't WORK is my problem. like, i tried to use spit to get it going a little, but that barely worked bc i kept on having to do it, and again, I KEPT ON LOSING THE FRICKING CLIT!!!!! is it the curse of being a boy (tboy for clarification) that's making this not work?? when i ended up a boy in a girl's body, did god just say "oh well i'll just make it impossible for you to find the clit so you can have at least one part of the boy experience" ?!?!?!?!?!! THIS IS RIDICULOUS!!!!!! this might also be my punishment for not paying attention to sex ed, but in my defense i was shown porn in fourth grade because my ex bff's older sister forgot to clear her browsing history and i immediately became SUPER sex repulsed (having to lie about it to my parents, the weird shame that came with it being interesting, religion, and the fact that i'm pretty sure it was one of those stepsis/stepbro things where the guy was basically assaulting the girl did NOT help imo) and decided i would never do any of that stuff ever and thus did not need sex ed so. well that's besides the point! i think i'm just mad that i can't even get myself off. i'll admit the music kind of helped, but not really all that much, and i wasn't sure what to do with anything, and i DID try to imagine stuff but nothing actually WORKED which was really annoying and yeah. rant over. thanks!!1

hello nonnie! well first off, strange as it may sound, i'm touched that you thought of me to rant to about this bc i always hope i make people feel safe to talk about things 💜 secondly, anything i say is just my personal insights, bc i have no medical training and am def not qualified to teach sex ed :p going through everything you said, it may be a combination of things? firstly, it's great that you found some music that was helping! but if i may ask, were you trying to make everything perfect to the extent that you built up masturbating into this big thing in your head and that stressed you out about it? cuz stress and anxiety can make it hard to orgasm. if so, it's okay to be excited about trying! but maybe give yourself just a bit of a cooling off period and try to relax about giving it another try and come to just see it as a fun new thing c: masturbation can be as much about learning your body and what it and you like as it is about reaching the finish line secondly, do you happen to be neurodivergent, especially if you have adhd? i personally have a really hard time achieving orgasm (like. my husband and our [female] fwb were laughing about 'punching in for their shift' when we had a threesome bc she cums really easily, meanwhile they're like taking turns as their arms got tired trying to get me there once lol) for a variety of reasons, but one of those is in fact that i have a hard time focusing due to adhd. it's not bc i'm not enjoying myself or anything like that, but just like in all other situations in life my mind just drifts, so i've learned to kind of guide myself back and make sure i'm in the moment as a side-note to that, do you have chronic pain? often those of us who do are constantly cataloging what hurts, how badly, and why, and that can be super distracting. d'you know how many orgasms have been killed for me by my hip or calf or thigh or ass cheek or neck cramping oml x_x; so if you have chronic pain, wait for your body to be in a place where it can take some tensing muscles and you don't have to focus so hard on that

as for the anatomy, i'm glad planned parenthood once again came to the rescue! there are a lot of people who didn't get the education they deserved on their own anatomy, so that's nothing to be ashamed of <3 i used to just rub at the lips and be like 'c'monnn, do something' lol. as for losing your clit, belieeeeve me i understand. clits come in all different sizes and also swell as you get more turned on, plus if you start getting really wet that thing is like a little slip 'n' slide. one thing i found that helped was getting a hitachi wand-style vibrator, cuz the vibrating head is big, so good fuckin' luck ducking out from under that thing, clit. but also, gauge your own sensitivity bc those wands are usually pretty powerful and can be overwhelming to some people, especially when you're new to masturbating. you can start smaller, too. there are any number of sites to buy sex toys from, but the one i personally use is adam & eve (https://www.adameve.com/). try poking around on there if you like and getting a feel for what clitoral vibrators are available and what you think might work for you, if that's of interest ^^ i would definitely recommend not trying in or right after you get out of the shower - i know shower sex gets shown in movies and porn a lot, but having tried it? in practice it actually tends to dry a vagina out bc it washes away our natural lube. and also! lube! lube is your friend. even if you're not doing anything penetrative, a little dollop on the clit goes a long way to making anything you're doing feel way better. water-based lube (which a lot of lubricants are) is usually better than oil-based, and remember to never use oil-based lube with a sex toy bc it wears down the surface of the toy. as for the trauma when you were young, i'm so sorry you had to experience that :c i understand religious sexual oppression and the lingering effects it can have, as well as sexual trauma, believe me. it's possible that that's also contributing to why you couldn't orgasm, but that's also nothing to be ashamed of. it's okay to react to things, especially when you're a kid and you don't even really understand what you're experiencing. also, and you certainly don't need to tell me if you're not comfortable, but being trans, do you have any dysphoria regarding your genitals? i've known trans people across the spectrum with this, from being able to masturbate without any problem to being unable to clean up in the restroom without it affecting them mentally, and it's all valid. if you do, that of course can also affect how much you enjoy masturbating.

as for having a hard time picturing things, ooooh my god i get it. i have aphantasia, so i have a hard time picturing anything in my head, and i'm also an auralist so i'm more turned on by sound than sight, anyway. if you're unable to or uncomfortable with watching porn, you could try audio porn if it would appeal to you? there are people who just either improv or read prepared scripts, and it's only audio. you can find any number of kinks, accents, gender pairings, etc. my go-to for it is actually a subreddit called gone wild audio. all in all i'd say, wait until you know you'll have a decent amount of time to yourself so you don't have to worry about someone walking in. take the pup for a walk first if they're anywhere near due for one (and please give them a pat for me!) and just try to relax and see it as enjoyable, not something that you have to figure out or be perfect at right away. it's easier to orgasm the more you're enoying yourself, and trying to race to the finish line ends up being stressful. get some lube (i swear by astroglide, but it can be pricey and there are perfectly good cheaper options!) and, if you're able and want to, some kind of vibrator and see what that does for you, then go from there and build on your knowledge of what you enjoy (: good luck! you're always welcome to send another ask or message me if you like 💜

[h2bakugou]

Helloooo love ur ficsss😌🤌can u maybe do one of the reader noticing Bakugou, Todoroki, kirishima, Sero, and Deku get boners because of the reader✨

a/n: hiiii!!! thank you <3 of course!! this is such a great request bye- i love this

all characters aged up 18+ au!!

headcanon: them getting a boner because of their s/o

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, boners, handjobs, lusting over u cuz the boys are simps <3, one mention of the reader wearing a skirt uniform/having boobs

nsfw under the cut!!

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

You’re third years now. You’re older, mature, and you’ve grown.

Bakugou and you have been together since your first year, but now that your both almost 19, it seems like such a long time ago.

But as you’ve expressed to Bakugou, your third year uniform seem to have gone missing. Whether you’d misplaced it or lost it entirely-it was not in your drawer.

Pulling on the uniform you’d gotten your first year was a struggle. But it miraculously fit. A little more than you’d hope.

While you fit into the skirt, it barely hung past your mid thigh, and the shirt-with the first two buttons undone, had you slightly embarrassed. Hoping to hide it with a tie and your jacket-the only piece to your third year uniform that you’d managed to find-you struggled to find the courage to leave your dorm.

 But you did, and you trudged into the class room, holding your back in front of your thighs, praying no one said anything.

You may have received a few teasing comments from your friends, joking about how awful the outfit looked.

But one pair of eyes never left you.

Bakugou’s.

Staring at you as soon as you entered the room, he was gripping the edge of his desk, blood running all the way to his dick.

It felt wrong to see you like this.

Legs exposed, thighs plush and on display for others to see. Your skin was damn near seeping through that shirt.

“Hey Katsu!” You smiled, sitting in your regular seat behind him. But as soon as you’d sat down, he was tugging you through the halls with him to the nearest lockable closet.

Shoving you inside he started to kiss you roughly, running his hands all over you until you glanced down and noticed the tent in his pants.

“Aw did someone get excited over lil ‘ol me?” You teased, running a hand down his chest, slipping it into his pants.

“Look at you. What were you thinkin?” He growled, lurching forward as your hand began to stroke his cock.

“I couldn’t find my uniform!”

“It’s in my dorm dumbass! You slept over Friday.” Bakugou groaned, locking his lips to your neck.

“Oh yeah, I did.” You giggle. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself at all, he was a mess.

With your hand working at his cock, he was bound to cum in his pants at this point.

But then your hand left, leaving him high and dry at his highest.

“Hey-”

“Stop being so horny.” You placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Meet me in my dorm later.” You winked, leaving him to deal with himself after that.

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

Seeing you in his home made him smile. He was a pretty simple guy. You’d moved in with him after graduating from U.A. since his house was huge.

Perhaps warning you for something else

Okay so anyway, just seeing you lounge around his house in his clothes. Maybe you’re trying to get on at more agencies, or doing some work studies with pros, just seeing you sit on the couch talking to Fuyumi in his U.A. grad sweater and a pair of comfy sweat shorts makes him smile.

But when he comes home from either working, or perhaps cleaning up after dinner and sees you lounging in his bed in just one of his shirts he’s rushing to lock the door to his room behind him.

“Hey Sho-”

His lips are on yours in an instant, his hands running up your legs as he hovers over you.

You can feel his boner press against your thigh as he trails his kisses down your neck.

You’re smiling as you reach your hands up to touch your boyfriend, slipping them into his pants.

“I love you.” Shoto whispers as you begin to stroke his cock, a few whimpers rolling off his tongue as he hunches over you, your fingers teasing the tip of his dick.

He’s biting your shoulder trying to stay quiet as you jerk him off, and you know he’s close by the way he twitches in the palm of your hand and whines in your ear.

“What got you all excited?” You tease, slowing your movements to prolong his pleasure.

“Y-you.” He mutters, embarrassed. You smile and kiss his cheek, allowing him to finish in his boxers. He’s staring at you with teary eyes as you pull out your hand and lick off his spend from your fingers.

“Should I spend the night in your room tonight then?” 

»»————-　★　————-««

eijiro kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

You’re living together after U.A. 

Between having friends over and work, he tries to keep up spending time with you too.

But sometimes he gets carried away.

He can’t help but dream of you at work, usually when he’s stuck doing paperwork or something dull.

His mind drifts to you, in his clothes, or completely naked. 

So of course when you walk into his office completely unannounced in something sexy, he’s straining himself as his cock struggles in his tight pants.

“Hey Kiri!” You smile, holding a lunch wrapped in a shade of crimson similar to his hair.

“H-hey beautiful!” He’s biting his bottom lip as he stares at you. It’s hard to focus after the daydream he’s just had about fucking you, and now you’re standing in his office wearing something so-

“You forgot your lunch at home hun.” You say sweetly as you walk over and place it on his desk. He’s trying to scoot up further but you catch a glance of his excitement before he can hide it.

You can’t really place when the last time you actually had sex was, you’d both been so busy.

Standing behind him and leaning an arm down to free his cock from his pants, you place a few kisses on his ear down to his cheek.

“Are you free tonight?” You ask quietly as you begin to stroke his cock. Kirishima’s mouth hangs open as he grips the edge of his desk, nodding feverishly.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He mumbles, your fingers gliding over the head of his cock. You smile and shake your head.

“I can tell. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.” You give him a few more strokes before pulling your hand away, moving to kiss him tenderly on the lips.

He whines as you pull away. He kisses back with a passion, wishing he could just take you over his desk.

“Wear the red one.” He calls to you as head toward the door.

“And thank you for the lunch.” He smiles.

»»————-　★　————-««

hanta sero

»»————-　★　————-««

Ah Sero, Sero, Sero.

This man gets hard at like simple things-KSFSKFK

It’s not a bad thing by no means, like 

He just loves you it’s so sweet.

But particularly, during a movie night, you’re cuddled up on him, laying on his chest as he rubs your back.

You’re not wearing any pants, just underwear and one of his silly little graphic tees.

Your legs are warm, your head is on his chest. He’s foaming at the mouth because all he has to do is glance down your back and he can see your ass.

It makes him harder than a rock.

You can feel him get hard, but you decided to tease him.

Shifting just to tease his cock as it prods at your legs, he’s only wearing some boxers and a tee shirt too.

But he knows you know when you whimper as his cock ruts against you.

You’re sitting up and resting on his hips as you trail a hand down to his boxers, pulling his cock out as you begin to jerk him off.

You’re not even batting an eye as you continue to watch the movie, your boyfriend moaning underneath you as he palms at your hips, maybe reaching them up to tease your nipples or moving them down to squeeze your ass.

He’s cumming in a matter of minutes as you smile and glance down at him, feeling his spend run down your hand.

“So horny.” You tease, leaning down to kiss him as he grins.

“Only for you.” He responds. 

He’s hard again when he watches you lick his cum off of your hand, and he’s ready for round two. This time it’s your turn.

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

»»————-　★　————-««

Deku is quite easy to fluster, but he usually knows when to be serious if he’s in let’s say a public setting.

However, if there’s a lockable room he may not be as serious.

He’ll probably get hard in a similar way to Sero-that sounded weird i-

I MEAN LIKE the situation. please 

You’re laying in bed listening to him talk about hero stuff or maybe about something he learned.

You’re laying on him, in one of his baggy shirts with nothing on underneath. In your defense you were getting ready to shower.

He pulled you onto the bed and tried to say on topic, but with you just looking so innocent as you lay on your stomach, your bare ass on display for him to glance at as he tells his stories, he’s turning red and fumbling with his words as his cock begins to strain against his shorts.

It’s so easy to tell he’s horny. He’s suddenly embarrassed to talk about things, or he finds it hard to maintain eye contact.

You sit up and can’t help but notice the tent in his shorts. It’s hard to not miss.

“Izu, are you okay?” You ask innocently as you position yourself between his legs, running your hands up his thighs until you can hook your fingers under the waistband of his shorts.

“I-I I’m great! What are you-”

His breath is stolen as you begin to stroke his cock in your hand, bringing your lips forward to kiss the head teasingly.

He’s gripping the sheets as you jerk him off, toying with him as you call him horny and naughty.

“I love you.” He mumbles in between moans and whimpers. You reply with an I love you before he cums, making a mess all over his shorts and your hand.

“You should come shower with me.” You wink, pulling him off of the bed as you guide him to the bathroom.

“Yeah!” He smiles, his heart swelling a little more because of you.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[literallymitch]

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐃.𝐃

requested: no

summary: the first part of the reputation series in which the reader first meets Damiano

pairing: Damiano David x famous!reader

word count: 2k

what kind of content: fluff

warnings: drinking

passages written in cursive are flashbacks

some of the lyrics were changed so they would fit the story

Please don’t steal any of my conten and release it elsewhere. Also all of this is fiction. I don’t know these people in real life nor do I know how they act

a/n I I hope you all enjoy this one, as much as I do. I’m so excited about this series jdhidcuheu. What song do you guys think is next? As always please keep in mind english is not my first language. I’m super happy about feedback!!

With a buzzing head I woke up. I shouldn’t have drank so much yesterday. Feeling the after effects of the alcohol I consumed yesterday, I looked at the sleeping figure next to me. A gorgeous man with brown hair and tattoos that fitted him perfectly. I smiled to myself, knowing he was the reason I probably drank a little too much yesterday. There was no way I would have found the courage to actually talk to him otherwise. He looked like an angel sleeping so peacefully in my queen-sized bed. As I looked at his sleeping figure, an idea popped into my head. I grabbed my notebook and went to my balcony that was connected to my bedroom. Looking at him one last time through the huge window in front of me. I opened my notebook and started writing down some lyrics in memory of last night.

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong

“We wanted to start working on our next album soon too.” , the gorgeous man in front of me said with an Italian accent.

After a few drinks I was finally talking to him. I was too busy taking in his beauty that I didn’t really listen  to what he just said to me. All of a sudden, I started giggling.

“You know, your accent is so funny, I love it. Like the way you pronounce some words? Hilarious”.

“Thanks, I guess?”

I cringed a little thinking about this specific moment. If he knew the only reason I was making a fool out of myself in front of him was his magnificent appearance, he would take it as a compliment. He probably already knew that was the reason. How could he not know? It’s not like he has never looked in a mirror. Also, there is no way, I am the first person that had to suffer from his magnetic self. By now he should know what his whole existence is doing to people.

And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much (I hate you so much)

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be here as well?” the beautiful Italian boy asked.

“My wha- Oh you mean Andre? He isn’t my boyfriend. The media just made that up after we went out once, and I was caught at two of his games. We haven't talked in months. He’s probably at some club right now, annoying some poor girl.”

At that moment I thought I’ve seen a small smile appear on his face. He then just turned to the bar tender, ordering another beer. God, how could he just keep his cool like this the whole night. Usually it was the other way around. People would stand drunk in front of me trying to make a move, while I just stood there unimpressed. He really made me feel like an insecure fourteen-year-old girl again, and I hated him for that

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine You've ruined my life, by not being mine

“The sunset is really beautiful today” Damiano stated sipping on his glass of Whisky. I nodded in agreement while I ate a grape from the vine that was placed on the bar counter.

The bar were at was on top of a small mountain somewhere outside Rome. From there we had a great view over the whole city of Rome and how the sun met the city's skyline. It really was beautiful, still it was nothing compared to him. I wish he would’ve been mine, so I could’ve rested my head on his shoulder right there and then, but he wasn’t.

You should take it as a compliment That I'm talking to everyone here but you (but you, but you)

“I’m glad we’re finally getting a chance to talk after you talked to, well, everyone else at this bar except me.”, the handsome man called me out while he sat down next to me.”

Feeling a bit caught, I just gave him an awkward smile. I tried to come up  with a reasonable excuse, that was less embarrassing than ‘Yeah sorry about that, I was just too scared to talk to you because you look like you’re straight out of my dreams.’

“I’m really sorry about that! It was just that every time I was done talking to someone, the next person already stood behind me wanting to talk.” I lied.

“It’s alright. I guess that's what happens when you’re a world-famous singer.”

And you should think about the consequence Of you touching my hand in the darkened room

It was now 11pm and the sky outside was completely dark. The lights in the bar were also dimmed a bit, creating a cozy atmosphere. Damiano and I were in the middle of our conversation, as he accidentally grabbed my hand, that was resting on the bar counter, instead of his drink. It felt like an electric shock. An electric shock that woke up the butterflies inside my body. My hand started to tingle, and I’m pretty I was full on blushing now.

If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her But if you're single that's honestly worse 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

“So do you have a girlfriend?”,  at this point I was so drunk I didn’t even care how this question came across anymore.

I was pretty sure he in fact had a girlfriend, I mean how could he not looking like this?

“No I don’t.” Thank god. “It’s kinda hard building up a real relationship with someone when you're always busy, but I guess you can tell me a thing or two about it too.”

Oh, yes, I could. Still I would drop everything I was doing right now,  just to be with him.

Chocolate brown eyes looking in mine I feel like I might sink and drown and die

Just as my confidence made a small comeback, I made the mistake to directly look into Damianos beautiful brown eyes. There really wasn’t a single thing about him that wasn’t extremely beautiful. I started to feel a bit dizzy as a wave of heat rushed through my body. What is this man doing to me?

Just thinking about it again made my heart beat three times faster.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

For like the million time this evening, he made a laugh. Great, so he wasn’t just incredibly handsome, but also extremely funny. I didn’t realize how happy I was in his presence until I remembered he wasn’t mine. Suddenly I felt kind of sad, thinking about how I maybe would never see him again after tonight. I just wanted to grab his hand and run away with him. Somewhere I could be alone with him. Somewhere he would be only mine.

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along

I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall behind the bar tender. I was shocked when I realized it was already midnight. There was no way we’ve been talking for like three hours now. I scanned the room for my friends, I went here with in the first place.

“Looking for someone specific?” Damiano asked, now also looking in the direction I was looking in.

“Just my friends, but it seems like they already went home. I’ll check if they texted me” I picked up my phone, checking if I had a message from my friends.

‘Hi babe, we already went home, we were kinda tired. Have fun talking to handsome stranger. You better tell us everything tomorrow ;)’

“Did they text you?”

“Yes, my friend texted me that they already went home. Guess I’ll have to go home alone then. At least my cats are waiting for me.” I stood up and tried to make my way over to the wardrobe to get my coat. Unfortunately I forgot how drunk I actually and almost tripped as I tried to walk. Alcohol and heels really are not a good combo. Thankfully Damiano grabbed my arm helping me to stabilize myself.

“You’re sure, you’ll make it home alone?”

“Yes, I am a big girl. Unless you wanna come along.” I said with a cheeky grin on my face.

Damiano left out a soft chuckle. He paid for our drinks and then accompanied me on my way back home.

“It’s already pretty late, if you want to, you can stay over.” I told him after he brought me up to my bedroom.

“That would be nice, thanks.”

After I got myself ready for bed, I basically fell into my cozy bed, cuddling myself up in my soft sheet.

“You mind telling me where your guestroom is before falling asleep?” the Italian boy asked with an amused look on his face.

“Mmh, I don’t know. Just sleep here, it's fine.” I answered him, already half asleep.

After that, I probably fell asleep, since I don’t remember anything else that happened.

You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face (to your face) 'Cause look at your face

“Good morning.” I heard a raspy voice say.

I looked up from my notebook and came face to face with Damiano gorgeous figure. His hair was messy, and he still looked a bit sleepy. Since he just wore a pair of boxer shorts, I could finally see all the tattoos that covered his upper body. All of a sudden I felt the same way as I did last night when I saw him for the first time. The words were stuck in my throat and I felt the anxiety build up in my body. How does he manage to make me feel this way by just existing?

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” I somehow managed to say.

“Yes I did thank you. What are you doing?” he asked me curiously as he sat down on the garden chair next to me.

“I’m just writing a song. The idea came to mind when I woke up.”

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty impressive that you’re able to write a song now after you could barely walk yesterday.” a small laugh left his mouth. “Can I see it?”

“No, it’s kinda awful. I’m to hungover to write something good now. I just wanted to write the idea down.” I lied,  I actually really liked the stuff I wrote so far, but he would probably think I’m a freak when he found out I wrote a song about after knowing him for a day.

“Can you at least tell me what it is about?”

“So you can steal my brilliant idea? No, thanks.” we both started laughing. “I can offer you breakfast though”

“I’m fine with that too” he said flashing me his beautiful smile

And I'm so furious At you for making me feel this way But what can I say? You're gorgeous

We were now sitting on my roof garden eating breakfast. Damiano told me some things about his life and what interests he had. As he did, so I looked at him in awe. I really started crushing on him as he continued to talked about his last tour with a huge smile on his face. I hated it that I was practically on my knees for him already, but how could I not? He’s perfect.

“I could really get used to this, you know?” he said out of nowhere.

“Me too.” I responded, not really questioning what he meant.

I also didn’t care as long as it involved us spending time together. I would make him mine no matter what.

[certifiedskywalker]

How to Make the Right Decision in Five Simple Steps - Bucky Barnes

On the daily, people are thrust into situations that force them to make a choice, sometimes a series of choices. Since meeting each other, you and Bucky have struggled to decide when to speak up, when to tell your truths to the other.

WARNINGS: implied sexual intimacy

PART ONE: How to Make Small Talk in Five Simple Steps

I. Identify your end goal.

“Alright, James,” you drawled as you walked towards your home. The streets were no longer as busy, bathed in an orange sunset glow. “Tell me-”

“Not James.”

“Not James?”

Bucky shook his head, but you saw the barely-there hints of a smile on his lips. It made him look softer, as did the golden hour light. “My full name...it makes me feel...old.”

“Old!? You’re what, one hundred and ten?”

“One hundred and six,” he corrected, his blue eyes meeting your gaze for only a moment before he focused back on the path you both walked. “Plus, it’s what Raynor calls me.”

“Not Mr. Barnes?”

As you asked, teasingly bumping your shoulder into his. Though, you quickly found that to be a mistake as your right arm collided with his left. Immovable and metal, the impact knocked you to the side. Before you could even yelp in fear of falling, Bucky’s hand shot out, fingers gleaming with their dark alloy, and held you in place. When you found your footing and a degree of stability, you looked up into Bucky’s blue eyes.

They were wide with concern as he asked, “are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah, just,” you warily glanced to his gloved left hand, “I forgot.”

“Oh,” he pulled his hand away, “already?”

“It’s not every day a handsome man reveals he has a Vibratium arm.”

“Vibranium.”

“I was close,” you sighed, holding out your hand. Bucky’s brow furrowed at your waiting, open palm. As if to convey a secret message, you waggled your fingers at him.

“What is it?”

“Give me your hand,” you said sheepishly, as warmth spread across your cheeks. His face lifted with the clarity you supplied, yet he hesitated to give you his left hand. It remained fixed at his side until you pressed. “So I don’t forget, again.”

Wordlessly, Bucky nodded and relented. His gloved hand reached out to your bare one and, now knowing the limb was metal, you were not surprised by the strength of his grip. Though, as if he could sense your thoughts, Bucky’s hand went lax in yours, almost limp. That was until you gripped it tighter and pulled him along to walk again.

“So, Mr. Barnes, what-”

“Not that either,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours for the briefest of seconds.

“You’re no fun,” you teased before you felt a pang of regret strike in your chest like a shock. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be joking, after all you’ve told me.”

“No, I...I’m not...who I told you about, that’s who I was but he wasn’t even really me. The Winter Soldier,” Bucky’s voice dropped as he said the name and he eyed distracted passersby, “is...he’s my history. I’m trying to make up for that.”

“Reparations. The court ordered therapy.”

“It’s a start,” Bucky agreed.

His tone was serious, lined with a cold edge that made you frown. Only when you glanced up at him did you feel your worry ebb. You caught his side profile perfectly as sunlight shone between two skyscrapers. His visage was cast so wonderfully, he looked nearly ethereal. Then, as you continued to walk side by side, the light was blocked behind more grey buildings. Their shadows fell across your shoulders and the sidewalk. In that same moment, Bucky looked down at you.

“And I like that you joke, that you forgot,” he said as your breath caught. Even in the shade of the city, Bucky looked lighter. Perhaps it was the lingering bits of a smile that played on his lips. You weren’t sure. “But, uh, sorry. I keep cutting you off.”

“Oh! It’s alright,” you swallowed hard, “now I just gotta figure out what to call you.”

“By my name? Bucky?”

“I mean like a nickname,” you clarified, but Bucky’s brows were knitted once more.

“It’s kinda already my nickname.”

“But my nickname, for you,” you stressed, instinctively squeezing the hand of his that you held. You frowned when you realized he might not have felt it.

“Why do you need a special one?”

“You know, now since we’re,” you paused then, as you felt your tongue may trip on the next word and because you weren’t sure if it was even the right word. “Friends.”

A moment of silence passed between you and it took all you had to tear your eyes from Buckys. When you did, your gaze fell upon a nearby building facade that looked familiar. At the sight, your heart sank. Mid-stride you stopped and turned to face Bucky, ready to give him the news. Though, before you could, he spoke up.

“Friends?”

“Yeah, friends,” you echoed, though, in your head, your words sounded more like a question. Bucky’s expression was unreadable, only adding to your hesitation.

“Friends,” he repeated slowly as if testing the word out.

His lips curved into what you could only describe as a forced half-smile as the other half of his mouth remained fixed in a frown. It was almost as if he could not decide how he felt about the word, its power in defining whatever your joined hands and the way you looked at each other meant. You couldn’t decide either. Now that you knew Bucky, you wanted to know more, to know why he let you hold his hand and why he looked at you with such softness that you stomach fluttered so. You wanted him, or did you want the idea of him that you had in your head, the idea of Bucky that you created when you met in the waiting room?

But rather than face that indecision, you glanced to the apartment complex doors that stood still to your right. “Um, well, this is me.”

“Oh,” immediately, his hand dropped from yours. “Alright.”

You lingered a moment on the bottom step leading up to the porch. Bucky’s eyes were trained on you as if waiting for something, longing for something. Though, Bucky was too much of a gentleman to ask, to feed it. You felt it too, heard it whispered in a little voice in your head. Invite him upstairs, you fool!

“I’ll see you, same time next week?” There was a teasing tilt in his voice as he asked like he knew how much it sounded like Dr. Raynor or Dr. Briam. You, now broken out of your thoughts, smiled.

“I’ll mark the appointment in my calendar,” you said, playing along. “Or, you could text me. You do have my number, after all.”

“Maybe. I still don’t know how I feel about smartphones.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re proving that ‘old dog, new tricks’ saying right when you say that, you know.”

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” Bucky said, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned as he turned around to walk back the way you came.

You watched him go before you climbed up the stairs to your apartment building door. As you fiddled in your pocket for the keys, you looked back in his direction. You swore that your mind was playing tricks on you. You swore that this day was long and emotionally taxing and it must have been your brain’s way of telling you it was time to rest.

But you could not shake the sight, the look in his face when you saw that Bucky Barnes had looked back too.

II. Gather information to best weigh your options.

“What’s that?”

Bucky looked up from the small notebook in his hands as you sat in the seat, your chair, beside his. “Good afternoon to you too.”

“Is it your diary?” You feigned a dramatic gasp and pressed a hand to your chest. “Are you writing about me?”

A small, breathy laugh, almost true, fell from his lips. “I wish.”

Then, it was your turn to chuckle. “I think the proper response is ‘you wish’.”

“No,” he held your gaze and you felt that Bucky was seeing through you. No, not through you but into you, into your heart and soul. “I meant I wish.”

“Well then,” you took a quick breath to replace the one Bucky’s words knocked from your lungs. “What are you writing about, Buckaroo?”

“No.”

You grinned. “What?”

“No to ‘Buckaroo’ or whatever the Hell you just said. That can’t be my nickname.”

“Worth a shot,” you sighed as you leaned back in the chair. Bucky let out an amused huff and you savored the lightness of the sound. Comfortable that the almost new nickname diffused the tension, you let your body curl into your seat. Though, your eyes quickly landed on his hands, how they rested in his lap and held tight to the small notebook. Bucky let out a trembling breath and looked back at you.

Your eyes snapped to his and you saw only a heavy glaze of seriousness in the blue. “It’s my...it’s how I’m making amends.”

“Dr. Raynor has you journaling?”

“It’s more of a list.”

“A list,” you leaned towards him, intrigued. “Of good deeds?”

Bucky’s eyes flicked from yours to your lips and back again. It was a momentary slip of his gaze, but it did not ease the trembling of your next breath.

“No,” he replied, letting his attention fall to his notebook. “A list of names...”

He trailed off and raised his head, fixing his eyes on the too-high windows of the waiting room. And, just like that, Bucky was out of your reach again. His mind was towards the glass a dozen feet above from where you both sat, lost in some fogged memory. The other day, when he told you his name, his past, and about the Winter Soldier, you asked him if he remembered what he did in his ‘living weapon’ state.

All of them, he told you; though, in that moment, you weren’t sure to who or what ‘them’ referred to. Now, you had a sinking heaviness in your gut. You did not want it to be true. You did not want this heft of knowing more if it hurt Bucky. Them, the victims. His victims.

“People that you-no, not you. People that he hurt in the past when-”

Before you could finish, Bucky looked at you. Sadness carved lines in his face like scars, all around his mouth and eyes. He suddenly appeared older and your resolve broke. You had a feeling that knowing more about the real Bucky would melt your heart, but this felt more like an ache. It was clear he felt the same pain.

“Hey,” you reached your hand out and wrapped your fingers around his forearm. “You can’t change the past, only the now. And you’re trying to do that, right?”

“I’m trying, but...it’s not...better.”

“The guilt?”

Bucky only nodded in reply, his eyes never once leaving yours.

“I mean, I don’t know what Raynor is having you do but, if this way,” you tipped your head towards his notebook, “if it isn’t working, maybe it’s time to try something else. Try to make them feel better than you do.”

“How?” You frowned at the croaking desperation in his voice. Instinctively, hoping to comfort and console, your grip tightened around Bucky’s metal wrist.

“Give closure if you can, hope to others,” you shrugged, “just be there.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up slightly as he looked at you. “I would have never thought you’d be so wise.”

A forced laugh spilled from your lips. “It’s the therapy and the trauma.”

“We both have baggage,” Bucky sighed, letting his eyes fall to the carpeted floor of the waiting room. You let your gaze follow his and saw how near you two were to each other. Your foot was close to his and smaller in comparison.

“It’s what makes us human, right?” You nudged his foot with yours as you asked and, when you looked back at Bucky’s face, you saw his eyes on you.

“Right.”

For a moment, you saw him as you did last week: walking away from your apartment building, eyes fixed on you as he looked over his shoulder. Was he thinking of that same second glance back? Was he too overcome by the desire to know more about you as you were about him? Or was he thinking that you knew too much, that it was only a matter of time before he scared you away for good?

You wanted to ask. You wanted to know. The way he was looked at you was tortuous. Yet, all that you managed to get out was: “you didn’t text me.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to pull them back in. Bucky’s face fell and his brow furrowed, and you wanted to scream. Or cry, or both. Both would do the trick.

“I didn’t mean to-” you began but stopped when Bucky started to speak.

“I was going to but I thought-”

“James.”

In turn, you and Bucky shifted your attention to Dr. Raynor. The woman poked her head out from behind the door of her office. Her displeased expression only grew more pointed when her dark eyes fell on your hand on Bucky’s wrist. Immediately, you pulled your fingers away, as if her sharp gaze stung your skin.

“I’m ready for you,” she grumbled, before retreating into the dark of her room. You glanced back at Bucky, whose eyes remained fixed on the now open door.

“You should go,” you murmured, and your voice proved to be enough to coax Bucky’s attention towards you. “Best not to keep the Grinch waiting.”

“I wanted to, I,” Bucky let out a sharp exhale through his nose. “I will text you.”

“Sure you will,” you said, hoping that your teasing tone outshone the hurt that lingered in your chest. “I’m sure you will, Buckaroo.”

“Still no.” Bucky stood up and looked down at you. “And I will. I’ll…”

You waved a hand at him. “Just go. I was kidding anyway.”

Bucky frowned but didn’t press the matter further. Instead, he started towards the door to Raynor’s office and, this time, as he walked away, he didn’t look back.

III. Consider the consequences.

“Can I walk you home again?”

At the sound of his voice, you jumped as you walked out of Raynor and Briam’s offices. With eyes wide and mouth agape, you stared at Bucky, who you hadn’t seen in weeks. At your shocked expression, he reached up and scratched the back of his head. He was nervous.

And he should be. “Bucky?! What...where have you been?!”

“It’s a long story,” he sighed, letting his hand fall back to his side. You eyed him, unwilling to let him talk his way out of his sudden, frightening absence. It was difficult to do: Bucky was still as handsome as ever. His hair looked softer in the light of day, outside of the grey of the waiting room, and his blue eyes were brighter than the last time you saw him.

“Well, I’ve got time for you to tell it,” you said, breaking from the trance his features put you in. You crossed your arms over your chest and tried to stay stern.

“Y/N, it was a matter of national importance,” Bucky assured, a small quirk pulling up at the corner of his mouth. Though, you were unamused.

“I’ve been waiting alone...I was worried. You just...disappeared. Without a word!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to worry.” Bucky nodded and a bitter laugh slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

“You didn’t text me,” you whimpered, your sternness melting under the heated pain of missing him. “And I’m not kidding this time.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes falling to the sidewalk before he continued. “I know and I want to explain.”

A long, strained pause fell over you both as you loitered before the doorway, staring at each other. Before you could speak up or try to tear your eyes from Bucky’s, a man, a new client of Dr. Raynor, started up the steps. To avoid being bumped into, you stepped forwards and nearly collided with Bucky. His hand reflexively reached out, shining under the sun, and held you still, secure.

“Sorry,” you murmured, as the new client disappeared inside the office. Your eyes flicked from Buckys to his hand that lingered on your upper arm. A shock of surprise rushed through you when you fully realized he was without his gloves. You turned your gaze back to Bucky’s and studied his somber expression. “No gloves?”

“Like I said, I want to explain.”

“You wanna tell me your long story in the doorway like it’s small talk?”

“No,” Bucky soothed, sensing your anger, “I want to walk you home if you’ll let me.”

You took a long, debating breath and glanced over Bucky’s face. There was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. You had not seen them so clear before. No longer were they as fogged and distant as the windows in the waiting room. Originally, you thought learning more about him would make Bucky feel less far away, but then he left. Now that he was back, he was closer than ever.

You weren’t about to push him away.

“Okay. Tell me your story, Jimmy.”

Bucky scoffed, “Jimmy?”

“I don’t know,” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. “James, Jimmy. It works, sort of. You being away threw me off my game.” You started down the stonework stairs and Bucky followed suit. As you both began to walk in the direction of your apartment, you felt as if everything was back as it should be again.

“I missed you too.”

At his words, you pressed you lips together to keep from smiling too broadly. Heat spread along your cheeks as you snuck a glance up to Bucky. His eyes were fixed on you still, watching, reading, and smiling. Really, truly smiling.

You swallowed hard and turned your eyes back to the sidewalk. “As much as I would love to hear about how much you missed me, you have a story?”

He sighed, “yes, and I have this friend…”

“Sam?” You asked, hoping you remembered the man’s name from when Bucky told you about the Falcon so long ago.

“Yeah, Sam.”

Then, he told you everything. He told you about John Walker, the shield, and the serum. He told you about a baron named Zemo and Wakanda’s Dora Milaje. He told you about the Flag Smashers and fighting for what’s right. He told you about the Wilson’s boat in Louisiana. He told you about how he didn’t want to put you in harm’s way.

“That’s why I didn’t text you,” he explained, “the Flag Smashers were using an app and their phones. They called Sarah, Sam’s sister, threatened her and her kids.”

“But they’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Bucky said with a fond glint in his eyes. “Played with the kids at the party.”

“Party?” You asked, a grin spreading along your lips. “I see how it is. You didn’t text me because I wasn’t invited to the after-party, huh?”

“No, actually, Sam wanted to fly you out.”

“What?!” You glanced at Bucky and stopped mid-stride. “He knows about me?”

“Of course. I told him about you,” Bucky smiled softly as he stopped. His hands were shoved in his jacket pockets, shoulders back and relaxed. He looked so wonderfully put together, more confident than before. “How could I not?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, bashfully flicking your eyes around the sidewalk. It was only then you realized you were outside your apartment building. It felt too soon.

“Well, I did.” Bucky stepped towards you, hands slipping out from his pockets. You eyed the hand that was his flesh, the rough skin of his palm before you met his gaze.

“Then, why didn’t you ask me? Fly me out?”

“Would you have wanted to come?”

“I…”

At your hesitance, Bucky leaned in closer. You could smell the leather of his jacket and notes of smoke. His blue eyes were searching your face and you felt another rush of warmth rise up and spread like gentle fires across your skin. The feeling stole your breath away, dulled your every thought until only Bucky remained.

“Would you have come?”

His second ask conjured an image in your mind: one of smiles and his arm around your waist, holding you to his side as party-goers danced. You saw kids and Bucky smiling as they threw fake punches at him and laughed when he played along. Then you saw his hands, both flesh and metal, cupping your face at the end of the evening. An evening like the one that surrounded you both.

In the soft light, you saw only Bucky, what you knew and didn’t know about him; but not a single regret. Not a single consequence.

“Yes,” you finally replied. “I would’ve.”

You were so close that you felt Bucky’s gentle sigh of relief against your skin. “Then I should’ve asked. Should’ve texted.”

“You said that you would,” you pointed out.

“You’re right. So, I guess I owe you one.”

“One text?” You smiled and Bucky shook his head.

“One text, one invitation,” Bucky’s eyes flicked to your lips then back up to meet your gaze. A lump formed in your throat at the sight. You glanced to the door of your apartment complex and then back to Bucky.

“So, if I invite you up, you’re obliged to accept?”

IV. Make your decision.

You made the choice to invite Bucky Barnes up to your apartment, but you did not remember how you led him to the door. Adrenaline dulled the proposal in your memory. For that, you were glad because, otherwise, you would have panicked as you and Bucky rode up to your floor in the elevator. Tension would have swallowed you whole, drowned you.

Before you knew it, you were inside your apartment.

“It’s nice in here,” Bucky mused, glancing around your small studio.

You mirrored his movements, eyed the exposed brick walls and scattered posters. What furniture you had was older and a small TV was precariously sat on a coffee table with a mess of wires behind it. Your kitchenette was untouched, but your garbage can nearly overflowed with trash from prepackaged meals.

“It’s not much to look at.”

“It’s cozier than my place,” Bucky said, turning to look at you from over his shoulder, “it looks like the guys’ apartment from that one show. Amigos?”

“Amigos?” You raised a brow at him as you shed your coat and draped it over the back of your favorite chair. “Never heard of it.”

“No, that’s not the name,” Bucky snapped his fingers, trying to magically summon the proper title. “It’s about friends, in New York. They live across the hall and go to some coffee shop all the time. And they’re all white.”

You laughed, “you mean F.R.I.E.N.D.S?”

“That’s it,” Bucky groaned, “it was on Steve’s list.”

“Steve’s list?” You walked into your small living room as you asked, settling on your couch. With practiced ease, the cushions gave in to your weight and you felt a rush of comfort soothe over your slight nervousness.

“That notebook, the one I used for my amends. It was Steve’s before,” Bucky wandered further into your apartment until he stood in your living room, stood before where you sat on the couch. “He made a list of all the things he missed. Movies, types of food, music, and TV shows. A lot of pop-culture things that I still don’t know.”

“Clearly,” you teased. Your light tone caught Bucky’s attention back to you. His blue eyes were darker in the limited sunset light that shone through your windows.

“I’d like to know more,” he pressed, “more about you.”

Your mouth went dry at his words but you managed to squeak out: “then ask.”

Bucky nodded and took a seat on the couch cushion beside you. You turned to face him, waiting for his questions and found yourself dumbstruck by the softness in his face.

“How would you describe yourself?”

A laugh slipped past your lips. It was laced with the sweet memory of the second time you and Bucky Barnes ever spoke to each other. That stupid magazine quiz. When you managed to collect yourself, you saw that Bucky wore a closed-lipped smile.

“In lifestyle quiz terms or in my own terms?”

“Up to you,” Bucky replied, throwing his left arm over the back of your couch.

“Hmm, I don’t know...maybe like a well-read owl?”

Bucky let out an amused huff. “You like to you read?”

“Sometimes. There are a few books I like,” you gestured to the somewhat sparse bookcase in the corner, “but it’s mostly just stuff online now.”

“Ever read The Hobbit?”

“That’s an oddly specific title,” you observed, unable to help the slight grin that pulled at your lips. “Why The Hobbit?”

“I know there are movies out now, a few years ago. But I read it,” Bucky took a breath, “when it first came out.”

“Wow,” you exclaimed, “that’s very hipster of you to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“There really is so much you don’t know,” you jested at his question.

“You mock me, but at least I’m not addicted to my phone.”

“Careful, you’re showing your age,” you laughed. When he failed to return your expression, your chest tightened. “What’s wrong?”

“Does that...does that make you nervous?”

“Your age? No,” you shook your head. “How good you look at a century old? Yes.”

Bucky smiled and his cheeks pinked, but his eyes fell to his lap. “But everything I told you, about me, my past, you’re not nervous? You’re not...scared?”

“No,” you replied quickly, “no, Buck, I’m not scared of you.”

Bucky didn’t respond and, for a moment, you feared that he hated that nickname too. Yet, rather than say so, he stared into your eyes with his lips slightly parted, waiting. At the sight, you felt a wonderful twisting in your gut as Bucky leaned in.

V. Assess the outcome(s).

You made the choice to invite Bucky Barnes up to your apartment, but you had no choice to make when it came to wanting him. You were stupid in believing there was any choice before. There was no decision to make. Not when Bucky already felt right.

Not when his hand, when the rough skin of his palm pressed ever-so-gently against your cheek. His thumb traced across the apple of your cheek as his fingers moved to hold your jaw. Just as they did so many tantalizing times before, Bucky’s eyes danced along your lips before he met your gaze once more. It was a silent question.

“Bucky,” you murmured, tone dripping with want.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The one word is all he needed to hear. Bucky leaned in further, tilted your face up with his thumb and forefinger, and pressed his lips to yours. It was a careful kiss. As if he is scared that you lied, that you were scared and would pull away swiftly. When you lingered, Bucky tipped his lips away from yours and took a breath. You did the same and smiled.

“Was that your first kiss since before World War two?”

Bucky blinked and lifted his slightly hooded eyes to meet your gaze. His pupils were blown and his breathing incredibly slow as he drank in your pleased expression. He had lovely eyelashes, you noticed. They framed the lightness of his eyes so perfectly.

“Any complaints?” His voice was low and sent a shivering shudder down your spine.

“No,” you replied in a desperate breath.

Bucky smiled and leaned in again, captured your lips with his. His hand remained against your jaw with his fingertips kissing your neck. Your own hands traveled up along his broad chest to his neck. His skin was deliciously warm, a sharp contrast to the cool metal of his left hand when it found rest on your waist.

A gasp slipped out of your mouth at the sudden cold, but Bucky was quick to swallow the sound. He trailed searing, no longer careful kisses from your lips to your jaw to your neck. You were a wire made live by his touch. To keep the current, you moved your hands from his neck to his soft, short brown hair. You tugged on the strands, eliciting a muffled moan from his lips.

“Buck,” you mewled as he dragged both of his hands down to your hips and pulled you into his lap. At the sound of the nickname, his wandering touch paused and he let his lips brush along your skin. A barely-there touch.

You looked down at him, saw his kiss-swollen lips, and met his want-filled eyes. Despite the clear desire in his expression and the lust that pooled in your stomach, he seemed suddenly restrained. Worried that maybe he felt this was all too much too fast, you let your hands fall to his shoulders. He did not seem distant but his silence made you wary to continue.

“What is it?”

“I should’ve texted you sooner, doll,” he whispered, pressing his thumbs into your hips. “Wanted to the day I got your number but…”

He trailed off and, to keep him in the moment, to keep his eyes on you, you moved a hand up to Bucky’s face. “Stay out of your head and I’ll stay out of mine. Just be with me now, okay?”

He stayed quiet, watching you as you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. As you did, Bucky’s hands tightened on your hips and pulled you flush against him. You didn’t moan then, but when his fingers, both of metal and flesh, slipped under the hem of your shirt, an involuntary whine escaped you. Bucky smiled into the kiss before you trailed more down his jaw.

“Okay,” he murmured, far too smug for your liking. You pulled your lips from his skin and eyed him vexedly.

Before you could tease or provoke, Bucky craned his neck and kissed you hard. You felt his thighs shift beneath your own and, in a flash, your back was laid against the couch cushions. Bucky’s weight slightly rested on you, pressing against your body marvelously. Heat lingered in the paths of his hands as they explored still covered tracks of your skin. His lips followed suit and you melted completely into bliss.

VI. Daybreak.

Light slipped through the window and cast your bedroom in an orange sunrise glow. You weren’t entirely sure how you and Bucky ended up in your bed. Well, you did, but you were still lost in the haze that surrounded the actions of the night before. Parts of your body still tingled, electrified by Bucky’s lingering touch.

You could feel it still, a tickling that emanated from where Bucky’s skin remained pressed against yours. His arm was slung around your bare waist, warm and snug. With your head on the pillow, you turned to study Bucky’s face. Sleep looked good on him.

His eyelashes fanned out against the peaks of his cheeks, which made him look angelic. You tried to remember if you had ever seen him so at peace before. Images of the waiting room danced before your eyes. You could only recall the relief that flashed across his face when he told you about his nightmares. Though, compared to the relaxed brow and softness laid before you, that expression was far from peaceful.

Unable to help yourself, you trailed your fingertips along the length of Bucky’s forearm that was wrapped around you. Under your touch, you saw the muscles beneath the skin flex and his hold on you tightened. When you glanced back at Bucky’s face, you were met with a pair of sleepy blue eyes.

“Mornin’,” he greeted, his voice gravelly from disuse.

“Morning. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m a light sleeper.” As he spoke, his arm around your waist squeezed once more. Now, your side was pressed to his chest and the scruff on Bucky’s chin prickled against your skin.

“You sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” he beamed, lifting his head from your pillow. “Better than okay.”

You smiled right back at him. “No nightmares or anything?”

“Not last night,” he said lowly as he leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Didn’t have a chance to.”

You reached a hand up to his hair as Bucky trailed gentle pecks along your jaw. A hum of contentment rose up your throat as he moved against you. You trailed your fingers through his messed hair and sighed. Bucky pulled away at the sound and peered down at you.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, gently brushing your hair back with his left hand. The coolness of the Vibranium woke you up fully and you reached a hand out to grab his wrist.

“And you’re intolerable, James Buchanan Barnes.” You intertwined your fingers with his metal ones and grinned. He returned the expression as he pinned your hand against the space beside your head.

“No jokes, no teasing,” he persisted, “you’re beautiful.” He pressed a kiss to the column of your throat and you sighed a thank you.

“You are too.” Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again. “I mean, why else do you think I talked to you in the waiting room?”

A laugh rumbled up in Bucky’s chest and you felt the vibration of the sound against your own. “I thought it was because I was new.”

“Well yeah, and handsome,” you grinned. Bucky’s eyes drank in your expression and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to that first meeting. “You looked lonely.”

“Until you,” he murmured, echoing your words from long ago.

You nodded under his softening gaze. “Until you.”

[luv-xoxo]

Lifesaver ~ Vinnie Hacker

Sort about 791W

Masterlist

TW: attempt of sexual assault, some swearing idk that's all I think

Yn

So there's the thing, my dumb ass forgot my wallet home and right now my phone is dead, meaning I have to walk back home from the library, which would be fine if it wasn't pitch black outside. I decided to be brave and I started walking. Everything was going alright the first 15 minutes. That's until I passed by a group of guys that looked at least 4 years older than me may I add, as I passed by them they start whistling at me and calling me to go over and have fun with them, my heart is beating so fast and I honestly feel like I am about to have a panic attack. What I least expected was that two of them started to follow me. I didn't realize that until a hand grabbed me yanking me back "come on sweetheart we want to make you feel good", " No please let go of me" By now I had tears streaming down my face and he laughed, his friend wasn't here yet he was a few meters back so I had to think quick. I kneed him on his dick and took off running. They were chasing after me and I was starting to feel tired, when I spotted a boy leaning on a pretty car I decided to take my chance so I ran and crashed him into a hug. "Please play along they are chasing me" I sobbed into his chest.

Vinnies pov

I was scrolling through my phone waiting in the boys to come back with food, when someone ran into me hugging me, at first I thought it was a fan but then the person spoke "Please play along they are chasing me" Her voice was so shaky and blended with sobs I could barely understand what she was saying, I quickly hugged her "it's okay I got you" I whispered to her, not really knowing what to do in a situation like that. Soon enough I saw same guys running towards us we'll more likely her, so I pushed her behind me "need something" I spat rudely at the pieces of shit that were chasing down a female only weak bitches do disgusting shit like that. "Mind your business pretty boy and give me my girlfriend back" One of then said and I felt the girl shaking her head " You got the wrong girl dude now I would appreciate it if you fucked off and stop scaring MY girl" I said ready to throw hands. "Oh sorry our bad dude" They said leaving. When they were away I turned to see the girl and God she was beautiful "hey are you alright? Here let me get you some water" I said leading her to sit on the passengers seat and handing her some water. "Yeah i- thank you" She said trying to stop crying. "Of course" I said softly I didn't have the chance to say something else bc I heard the voices from the boys coming back .

"Yooo V man,who's your lady friend" Thomas shouted which made the girl flinch. "Hey can you wait here for a second" I asked her and she nodded. I got up and walked to the boys explaining quickly what happened. They were understanding and waited over Thomas's car till I took care of the girl. I walked back to her and she clearly looked terrified it made me so angry who in their right mindset could make someone to feel like that?

"Hey would you like me to call you an Uber or do you want to call someone to take you home", " No I m gonna walk I - I forgot my wallet and well I just moved here alone so..." She trailed. Dang that's so unlucky of her but what I know for sure is I m not letting her walk alone right now "it's okay I can pay for your Uber", " No I can't accept that plus you already helped me a lot" , "alright then let me drive you home", " I don't wanna bother you, you don't have to get out of your way to drive me home" , " Oh woman you are stubborn! How about that I drive you home and you have to go out with me as a thank you" I said "alright only cause I m scared to walk all the way to my house" She smiled "good" I smiled "thank you.. ", " Vinnie my name is Vinnie " I smiled "thank you Vinnie, I am yn", I smiled " A pretty name for a pretty girl" With that I left to tell the others that they shouldn't wait on me and return to the car, got in and drive her home.

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part fifteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption

word count: 1.7k

series masterlist

Don’t tell Sam. Sam. SAM.

“Shit.”

You had to fix this in a matter of seconds. Should you slap him? Act like nothing happened? Pretend you were drunker than you actually were and play dumb?

“Wait, you’re not Sam?” you squinted your eyes like you were trying to see who was in front of you, acting like you were too drunk to remember who you were with. “Oh my god.”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Tom tried. 

“I-” you didn’t know how to respond. “Why did you do that?”

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know, it didn’t mean anything!” You’d be lying if you told yourself that didn’t sting a little. If he didn’t have any sort of feelings for you, why would he kiss you? “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Please don’t tell my brother.”

“You want me to lie to my boyfriend?”

“I mean, is it lying if you just don’t mention it?”

“It’s a lie of omission- are you really going to debate me about philosophy right now?”

“Then yes, I do want you to lie to your boyfriend because if he finds out he’ll never speak to me again.”

“You realize what kind of position that puts me in?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

You couldn’t even think straight. Feelings of confusion, panic, anger, and regret fought for control of your conscience. “What if someone had seen us? Taken a picture of us? You’re a public fucking figure, Tom. That could’ve put your career at risk.” “Don’t you think I know that?” he growled. “I don’t need you to lecture me on how stupid it was.”

“You’re an asshole,” you scoffed.

“I know.”

You stood from the table to leave, hoping he wouldn’t follow you, but he called after you, your name echoing in your ears like a warning. Reluctantly, you turned back to face him with a bitter taste on your tongue.

“You won’t tell him, right?”

You stared him down for a moment, watching nerves etch themselves onto his features before answering. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

It was a promise you didn’t want to make, but you felt like you had no other choice. You hadn’t just broken the ‘no flirting’ rule, you’d blown straight past it into completely uncharted territory. And technically Tom had been the one to initiate, you hadn’t kissed him back, but you couldn’t say you hadn’t felt something when he did. 

You had never lied to Sam before- at least not on this scale. You felt sick to your stomach, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. 

You almost didn’t want to go back to your room. You urged the elevator to go as slow as possible as you checked your appearance in the reflective wall. The tarnished gold was smudged with handprints, but you were still able to make out your ruined lipstick. You weren’t sure it had been messed up sometime during dinner, or if it was Tom’s doing but you couldn’t take a chance. You used your thumb to wipe away the evidence as the intercom on the elevator let out a ding to let you know you’d reached your floor.

With a shaky breath you pushed yourself into the hallway and forced yourself to put one foot in front of the other to walk to your room. You didn’t have a key, so you had to knock. You half-hoped Sam was already asleep, even if it meant you’d have to spend the night in the hallway. 

But as luck would have it he was still up and he opened the door seconds later. He was definitely out of it, blinking at you to put you in focus. 

“There you are,” he said tiredly, rubbing one of his eyes with his hand. “I was wondering when you’d come up.”

“I hope I didn’t keep you up,” you apologized as you breezed past him into the room. 

“Nah, I was just messing around.”

A lie, you knew, but you let it slide knowing you were keeping a much bigger secret. He was already dressed for bed in his boxers and one of your t-shirts and his hair was wet from a shower. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, noticing your anxious energy.

You nodded. “I had too much to drink.”

“Ah, me too, I think. Come take a shower. It’ll help.” 

You took his advice and tried to sober up in the shower, letting the cold water run over your bare skin until you were shivering. When it didn’t make you feel any better you turned off the faucet completely and dried off, wrapping a towel around your body and sitting on the edge of the tub. 

“Y/n?” came Sam’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

You sighed. Why did he have to know you better than you knew yourself? You pushed yourself up from the tub and opened the door. 

“I had like three more shots after you left,” you mumbled.

The color drained from his face as he took in this additional information and he frowned. “Jesus, I thought I was drunk. Do you feel sick?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, well let’s go to bed,” he urged. His accent was always thicker when he was drunk, and in a funny way it sounded like home, like all of those Friday nights back on campus. 

Sam gave you space to change into your clothes for bed and crawled under the covers to wait for you. You dressed yourself, hung your towel in the bathroom, and shut off the main light before feeling your way through the darkness over to the bed. 

You managed to get your drunk ass in bed without tripping which you considered to be a miracle. Sam slung his arm across your stomach as soon as you settled on the mattress and pulled you against his hip. You tensed underneath his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

You couldn’t relax no matter how hard you tried, and sleep taunted you for hours, hovering just out of your reach. 

Sam’s alarm woke you from restless dreaming some hours later, when the sun had barely brushed the horizon. 

You groaned and rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face in your pillow. Your head was pounding and you didn’t even want to think about facing Tom. The simple motion of rolling over had made you nauseous and you knew that standing up was going to be a whole nother ordeal. 

“Come on, love,” Sam said, nudging you with his knee. He was already sitting up, rolling the tension out of his neck from a night on the stiff mattress. “We gotta be downstairs in a few minutes.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you felt pathetic. You didn’t have the strength to be around Tom today, especially with Sam right there.

“Don’t feel good,” you moaned.

“We’re all hungover,” Sam sighed. “We’re not even doing that much walking today.”

You turned your head enough for him to see the tears running down your cheeks and he pursed his lips, expression turning worried. 

“Oh.”

“Can you make something up?” you pleaded. 

He nodded. “I’ll tell them you have a fever or something.”

You swallowed your shame and squeezed your eyes shut, whispering thanks into his shirt. Sam kissed your forehead and then got up. You vaguely heard him moving around the room getting ready, but drifted in and out of sleep as he did. 

Once he was dressed he softly told you goodbye, that he hoped you felt better, and that he’d bring you back some food later on. 

The door clicked shut and you let your guilt continue eating you alive. 

You wondered how Tom would react when Sam told his family you weren’t feeling well, if his face would give anything away. He was an actor, he should be able to handle it. But you also wondered what he was feeling, if he felt as guilty as you did- or even more so. Or maybe he wouldn’t even care. You never knew when it came to him.

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on a pillow, using the free time to respond to some messages from friends and family. It was the middle of the night back in the States, but at least they’d wake up knowing you weren’t dead. To be fair, everyone knew your communication skills weren’t the best so they probably weren’t expecting anything from you anyway, but you still wanted to put in the effort. 

The rest of the day passed by quicker than you would’ve liked. You spent it in bed, tossing and turning as you desperately tried to fall back asleep. You kept pushing the blankets off of you, then burying yourself beneath them again, flipping between hot and cold. Maybe you really did have a fever. Your clothes were suffocating you so you ended up stripping and dropping them on the floor by the bed. 

By the mercy of some higher power you were able to nap for a couple of hours scattered throughout the afternoon, but by dinner time you were wide awake again and passed the time by watching Avatar: The Last Airbender in Italian on the hotel tv. 

It was playing an earlier episode, the one where the gaang visited Kyoshi Island. You couldn’t understand any of the dialogue, obviously, but you still found comfort in the familiar scenes. 

There was a knock on the door suddenly, startling you out of your focus. You jerked your head towards the sound and scrambled from the bed. You slipped back into your t-shirt, but didn’t bother putting on pants before opening the door because you figured it was just Sam. And it was. He looked exhausted, but in the best kind of way and was holding a styrofoam container of food that was presumably for you.

“Forgot the key,” he said sheepishly, offering you the food. You smiled and took it from him, stepping aside to let him in. 

He didn’t take your cue, instead he stayed where he was standing in the doorway awkwardly. It was then that you realized he wasn’t alone, that his older brother had been standing behind him the entire time.

Sam offered no explanation, only shrugged like he didn’t know why he was there either.

“Tom?” you asked, awaiting an explanation for yourself.

“Can we talk?” 

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[lemonpeter]

🧡Day 1: Inc*st🧡

Really starting off strong huh lol anyway, this is very background heavy (I don’t know what happened but now I’m obsessed) and I hope y’all enjoy 🧡

Warnings: inc*st, nff, father/son (but they don’t know), Peter is 18 and an intern at SI, brief substance ab*se mention (and impaired s*x, not between starker)

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

There was always room for accident, though.

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

He never had sex without multiple levels of protection. And he was famous enough that people rarely tried to argue against it. Sleeping with him at all fulfilled what they wanted.

So things were perfectly fine. He never had an issue, he was always completely safe with his partners.

Except for this one night.

He was in a self-destructive episode, in the downward spiral before he hit rock bottom. Mixed every possible substance that shouldn’t have been mixed, impairing him until he wasn’t sure which way was up.

And he had a woman spiraling right along with him.

Her name was…Mary. Mary something. She was a scientist in some field, but he didn’t catch anything else. Or he just didn’t remember it. It didn’t matter anyways, they were both just wanting to ignore what was around them. What their lives had served them.

And maybe he forgot to ask if she was on birth control when he sloppily kissed over her neck.

Maybe he fumbled with the condom to the point where she whispered, “We’ll be fine,” and he believed her.

How it happened didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it did.

Tony didn’t even know.

He didn’t ask for her number the next morning, he just hid out in the bathroom, emptying his stomach of its entire contents while he waited for her to leave.

She was gone by the time he could see straight.

Thank god.

He never heard from her again.

Mary Parker and her husband died six years later and he never knew.

He didn’t know that they had a son. Or she did, at least. There was no way for him to know that the son had been passed along to his aunt and uncle when no other relative was found.

He never knew that Mary Parker had a son. And that her husband wasn’t the one who got her pregnant.

She never crossed his mind again after she left him.

***

Enter Peter.

Tony had new interns come in every year, typically college students that needed the credits, but sometimes someone special would come along.

Peter was a high school senior, but he was one of the smartest people that Tony had ever come across.

Tony had a job lined up for him as soon as he graduated if he wanted it. Not that he’d told him that yet.

He swore that he wasn’t a stalker. He had to prove to Pepper that he wasn’t giving too much attention to one intern over another, and for him that meant that he needed to stay away from Peter personally.

No matter how tempting it was. There had to be a family history of such genius, right? That kind of brains didn’t just occur at random.

But he didn’t look into him at all. He wouldn’t even let himself google search his name.

Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Peter Parker.

Although maybe he could just do it the old fashioned way. Minimal favoritism involved.

He spent months working with Peter. They became friends. Close friends.

It got to the point where Tony couldn’t help the smile he had when he looked into those warm brown eyes.

He felt it happen, it was official. Peter Parker had his heart.

It didn’t matter how wrong it was, he couldn’t help it. The young man had completely gotten hold of him.

And he hoped that it was mutual.

***

“Peter, can you stay back for a second?” Tony was still standing at the lab table, eyes scanning over the coding that they’d put in place during the session.

Like that was actually what was on his mind.

The young man looked up with wide eyes. Very deer-in-headlights. But it was so cute on him.

“Y-yeah! I actually needed to tell you something, so yes, I can definitely do that.”

Peter sounded a bit nervous which made Tony pause. Maybe his confession could wait a while. Maybe forever. Whatever was on Peter’s mind was infinitely more important to him.

“Okay, you first. I can follow up.” Tony tucked his hands into his pockets, leaning back against the table.

His cheeks burned. “No- no, you can go first. Don’t worry.”

The older man let out a breath. “Peter, you say what you need to. I can wait.”

Peter looked at him, face flushed. He hadn’t really meant to blurt out that he had something to say. He’d thought about it, sure. But he didn’t know-

His brain couldn’t keep up with his body and suddenly he was leaning up, pressing his lips to Tony’s.

The older man froze. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all. But then he relaxed into it, kissing back.

Who knew that they both had the same confession?

But it wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Tony pulled away once he finally got control of his senses again, raking a hand through his hair. “Pete, I’m supposed to be the adult here. I can’t be a good role model if I’m….”

When was he ever a good role model?

“Let me start again. I’m an adult. Kid, I’m old. Old enough to be your dad. And you’re…how old?”

“I turned eighteen in august,” he supplied helpfully.

At least it was legal.

“Eighteen. That’s a thirty year age difference.” Jesus, he was creepy. Falling for an eighteen year old. He couldn’t even buy alcohol for himself.

Peter blinked up at him. “So? I like you, Mr. Stark. I don’t care how old you are.”

Tony sighed softly. “You’re gonna be the death of me. And it’s Tony. If this is what’s happening, call me Tony.”

Even though it had been his plan to confess his feelings anyway, the guilt was still eating at him. He had fallen for a teenager who was just barely legal.

“What is happening, Mr.- Tony?”

Tony leaned in for another kiss, sighing softly. “What do you want to happen, kid?”

“Oh. Well, um, not to be blunt, but- I just- I mean- I really want you.”

He was cute. Innocent. But Tony could tell that what he meant was a bit less innocent.

“Are you sure? You realize this is a bad idea on...a lot of levels, right?”

Peter huffed softly, looking up at him with a stubborn expression. “I don’t care. We can be sneaky.”

Tony snorted. ‘Sneaky’ wasn’t really how he’d describe it, but he had to remind himself that his terms were a lot different than Peter’s. Different generations and all that.

He was horrible.

“Okay, kid. We can take this upstairs-” where there was no one to walk in on them. “-and talk about what exactly you’re thinking.”

“How about we don’t talk about it and we just...do?” Peter gave him a shy, devious smile.

“Uh huh. We’ll see.”

Tony grabbed his wrist gently, glancing in the hallway to make sure that no one was coming before he dragged him to the elevator.

Before he could get another word out, Peter’s lips were on his again. And this time there was more heat behind it.

He kissed back, eyes slipping shut just as the elevator doors did. Their lips pushed together insistently and he felt Peter’s tongue clumsily swiping over his lip.

He suppressed a laugh and parted his lips, allowing Peter to lead.

It was all so curious and clumsy that he wondered just how many times Peter had ever kissed anyone. If any. But that was a question for later.

The elevator dinged softly when they reached the penthouse and only then did they pull away from each other.

Tony led Peter out, instantly heading for his bedroom. Bad idea or no, he’d imagined such a scenario so many times. He didn’t want to waste any time.

“Tony?” Peter spoke up, eyes on the bed. “I know this is really straightforward, but I’m glad you, like, don’t hate me. I’ve thought about this...a lot.”

“You and me both,” the older man murmured. “Something I feel like we should cover before anything else...how far are you wanting to go?”

Peter chewed his lip. “Not to rush things, but I really really want to go all the way.”

“Well, not to rush things, but I want that too.” Tony gave him a small grin. “Do you have a preference?”

“Hmm?”

The confused look that he got made him feel guilty again. Just how much had Peter ever done with anyone else?

“Top or bottom, honey. Receiving or giving, pitching or catching, whatever you want to say. What do you want to do?”

Peter blushed, deciding to distract from the question at hand by pulling his shirt off.

It worked. Tony’s attention was instantly elsewhere, his eyes focused on his trim waist but hard muscle.

“Jesus, kid. That’s...wow.” If he wasn’t hard before, he was definitely getting there from seeing just what his innocent little intern was hiding under loose clothing.

“Like it?” The young man grinned to himself, one hand sensually sliding from the v of his hips up to his chest.

Perfect abs. Round, firm pecs. Jesus, Tony was entranced.

But he remembered what he’d asked. “Peter, top or bottom. What’s your preference?”

“I- I don’t...know.”

There it was.

Tony looked at him, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip quickly. “You’re a virgin.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it for sure. It wasn’t surprising.

Peter got defensive. “I’ve done some stuff.”

“Uh huh. What ‘stuff’?”

He refused to look at Tony, his eyes on his hands as he played with the button on his jeans. “I’ve given oral. Guys and girls. And I’ve gotten, like, a couple handjobs and blowjobs.”

Tony closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t be your first. This- Peter, this is such a bad idea. You should be with someone your own age.”

Peter made an indignant sound, popping the button on his jeans and unzipping them out of protest. “I don’t want someone my own age. I want you.”

He said it with such finality.

Tony stepped closer to the bed, his hands cupping Peter’s face gently. “You promise me you won’t regret this?”

“There’s nothing that could make me regret this.” Peter unbuckled Tony’s belt, slowly pulling it out of the loops before dropping it to the floor.

Tony nodded slowly, not fighting when Peter pushed his slacks down. It was really happening.

“Holy shit-” Peter’s eyes were wide. His eyes were fixed on the way that Tony’s dick was straining at the front of his tight boxers. There was a nervous look in his eyes.

“Good or bad?” Tony teased a little.

“Good. Good, oh man.” Peter reached down and squeezed himself hard. “So big….”

That was nice to hear. “You think so? Do you think you could take it, sweetheart?”

Peter’s fingers ghosted over the length slowly, making it twitch in its confines. “I...I want to try.”

Tony nodded. “We’ll make it fit. Let’s finish getting you undressed.” He pulled his own shirt off and tossed it to the floor before getting onto the bed next to Peter.

He finished pulling the young man’s zipper down and helped him shimmy out of his jeans. Peter’s thighs were gorgeous, Tony was nearly drooling over them. But he couldn’t get distracted.

“May I?” He met the young man’s eyes, his fingers slipping into the waistband of his boxers.

Peter nodded, breathing hard as he laid back more.

Tony slowly pulled the piece of clothing down, biting his lip when he watched Peter’s cock drop against his hip once it was no longer covered. “So hard for me, honey. Look at that.”

The younger man blushed darker. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Tony….”

“God, me too. Me too, kid.” He pushed his own boxers off, unable to keep himself from wrapping one hand around himself and stroking slowly.

Peter watched him with wide eyes. “Okay. I want you inside me. Now.” He kicked his boxers away, grinning a little.

Tony laughed softly at his eagerness. “We have to get you ready first. Hold on, let me show you….”

Turns out that Peter was incredibly responsive to everything and by the time he was open enough for further activities Tony had already worked him through an orgasm.

If Peter was that responsive to just his fingers, he couldn’t wait to get his cock in him. And the young man was still raring to go.

Tony grabbed a condom - habit, it wasn’t like they were preventing anything - but Peter stopped him.

“Why can't we just do it…without?” He asked shyly.

“I mean…we can. But you’ll have to clean up and that can be annoying.”

“I want…I want to feel you. Is that okay?” Peter hid his face in his hands, embarrassed by the admission.

Tony nodded, biting back a smile. “Yeah. That’s okay.” He set the foil square down on the nightstand before moving back to the young man.

He got between his legs, hands sliding over the strong thighs he was met with. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, kid. I hope you know that.”

Peter smiled up at him, spreading his legs further. “Thank you, Tony….” He leaned back more, laying his head down. “Now hurry up,” he joked.

Grabbing the lube and slicking himself up, the older man shook his head. “Impatient,” Tony chided, laughing softly. But he was already moving to position his cock at the man’s hole, the tip brushing over him.

They both moaned softly, laughing a little at how in sync they were.

“Fuck me, Tony…please?”

The older man nodded, slowly pushing past the tight muscle with a groan. Even though he’d prepped him, Peter was still tight. Just perfectly so.

Peter was tightly gripping the sheets, popping a couple threads even, with the first movements.

It seemed like his effort was in vain, but he really wanted to try to last.

Tony bottomed out, hips pressed flush against Peter’s ass.

The younger man was whining low in his throat at the feeling. His cock twitched between them. He knew that if he was touched at all before he could calm down a little, everything would be over way before he wanted it to be.

“Need me to stay still?” Tony asked. He could tell that Peter was struggling.

He nodded quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes. Fuck.”

“Okay, honey. Don’t worry, we can take this at whatever pace you want.”

Peter nodded, trying to get a hold on how he was feeling.

It took him a couple minutes, but eventually he signaled Tony that he was okay. And he could start moving.

So he started slow, but Tony started thrusting when he was given the okay.

Peter moaned, mouth falling open around his noises.

He tightened around Tony’s cock, squeezing down with every movement. Then he cried out when a particularly deep thrust hit something that made him see stars.

“What was that?” Peter gasped, hips rocking up wildly.

Tony groaned, laughing a little through it. “I’m going to, fuck, I’m going to assume that was your prostate. Feels good, doesn’t it? I should have showed that to you when I was fingering you.”

“Do it again!”

The older man snorted, aiming for the same spot again as he picked up his pace. He held one of Peter’s legs, lifting it just enough so that he could get at a deeper angle. “I can try.”

From the increasingly louder noises he received, he assumed he succeeded.

He was so lost in the feeling of Peter that he missed how close to the edge his partner was getting. All that registered was how incredible (borderline painful) it felt when the younger man squeezed around him like that.

Then Peter was crying out louder and thrusting up as he spilled onto his stomach.

Tony swore under his breath. “God, Peter.” He watched him, subconsciously speeding up as he chased his own high.

“Tony!” Peter moaned, eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his high. It was the best orgasm he’d ever experienced, alone or otherwise.

But he slowly opened his eyes, wanting to watch Tony cum.

“I’m close too,” the older man moaned, speeding up again.

Peter moaned louder, feeling himself being pushed up the bed with the quicker pace. “Cum, Tony, please, want you to fill me up.”

He wasn’t so sure about dirty talk, but it could only be but so bad because Tony went still moments later. Peter felt the cock inside him pulse briefly before there was a smooth warmth spreading.

The thing itself felt odd, but thinking about what was happening almost made him cum again.

Actually-

His hand flew to his own dick and he quickly jerked himself off before he was cumming for a third time. It wasn’t nearly as good as the other two, but it was still incredible. Especially thinking about how good Tony still felt inside of him.

He opened his eyes when he heard Tony chuckling. “What?”

“You’re insatiable. And I’m amazed that you can just go again that fast.” The older man closed his eyes again, catching his breath.

He was almost in shock that it had actually happened. He had sex with Peter. After thinking about it for months, dreaming about it, it happened.

He slowly pulled out, laying next to the young man. He knew they were both messes, covered in sweat and cum and lube, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to hold Peter close before they had to go back to real life.

Tony gently wrapped his arms around him, just gathering him close while he pressed a kiss to the man’s temple.

He found out quickly that Peter’s dazed, relaxed post-sex state would only last for so long.

It was only minutes before the man was talking, whispering about anything and everything. And Tony happily listened.

He hummed softly, holding the younger man close to his chest. One hand gently carded through Peter’s soft curls as they talked quietly.

“My mom met you one time,” Peter murmured. “Before I was born. But she would never tell me about it. Just told me that it happened.”

Tony snorted softly. “Yeah, well, about when would that have been? I had a reputation for a reason.” But the confession started pulling at a memory. It couldn’t quite come to light, though.

“Ew.” The young man grinned at him. “But I guess you’re right. I don’t know, she was kinda weird about a lot of stuff. Not just that.”

“What do you mean?”

Peter sighed softly and Tony frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But Peter started answering anyway.

“I don’t know who my actual dad is. She never told me. I vaguely remember her telling me that Richard was the only dad I needed, but nothing else.”

“You would have been so young,” Tony whispered. “Maybe she just figured it could be a conversation for another time.”

“But she wouldn’t tell anyone else. My aunt and uncle knew that Richard wasn’t actually my dad, but they were never told who was. And I guess it just…died with her.”

The older man nodded. “You could always do a paternity test, right?” Why was guilt pooling in his stomach?

Peter shrugged. “That’s assuming that my dad has done one too that we could match. And sometimes….” He trailed off.

“Sometimes what?” Tony kissed him gently, trying to soothe him.

“Sometimes I’m not sure that I want to know,” he confessed.

It made sense. But something was still trying to pull at Tony’s memory. Forming an idea slowly.

Although he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answers.

But he couldn’t just leave a question unasked. No matter how dark the potential answer.

“Peter…when did you say that your mom met me?”

The young man snuggled into him more, shaking his head. “I didn’t. I think it was…the year before I was born or so. Why? Do you remember?”

Tony tried to mentally do the numbers. He’d spent most of that year in a fog, but that had been the theme of that era in his life. But maybe…

“Are you okay?”

The older man closed his eyes, frowning as he tried to remember.

Parker. Had he been with a Parker? He couldn’t remember the occasion at all.

Maybe that was for the best.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay, was just trying to see if I remembered her. I’m sorry.”

Peter leaned up to kiss him gently, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not a big deal, really. Sometimes I just wonder about that stuff.”

Tony tried to assure himself that it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe it was best to not have all the answers.

He had what he wanted. That was all that mattered.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[writing-in-a-chipotle]

Unbearably Mortal (Part 2)

(Alcina Dimitrescu x gender neutral reader)

Part 1

Words: ~2.5 K

Summary: In which a lot of things happen and none of them are good.

A/N: Hey, y’all! Back at it again with another chapter! Hope you enjoy!

“Nope nope nope nope… no way in hell…” You shook your head violently, unable to process what Mary had said. “This is… this is all some sort of elaborate prank, right? You’re messing with me. Yeah.” You swallowed. Your saliva felt like acid.

Mary grimaced. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t a game. This is very much reality.”

“So… what are they then?” You began pacing the floor, anxiety clinging to the pit of your stomach. “You expect me to believe that they’re some sort of weird, blood-sucking vampires?? You must be out of your mind… they don’t exist! They can’t be real!”

Mary stood up and walked over to you, gently placing her hands on your shoulders. With her blocking your path, you were forced to stop pacing and look at her.

“Listen,” She began, eyes gleaming with fear “I have no need to lie to you. Believe whatever you want to believe, for the only thing on the line right now is your head. Jane and I risked our lives to save you. If we were caught, all of us would have died. So, are you going to freak out and get yourself killed, or are you gonna listen to me?”

You were stunned into silence. Mary was being deathly serious. You nodded shakily.

“Good.” Mary breathed a sigh of relief. “If you had a mental breakdown and they heard…” She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to either; the implication was horrifying enough as it was.

“Thank you, by the way,” you sighed, sitting back down on the bed, “you really didn’t have to save me.”

“Honestly, I’m still scared out of my mind,” she admitted breathily, “but I’m glad you’re better now.”

“Thanks.”

She hummed, then pursed her lips. Her frown deepened even more. “Well… now what do we do? The Dimitrescu family is notorious for slaughtering any trespassers they find.”

Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped. “Oh no… oh no, no, no…”

You were stuck. You were stuck in a terrifying castle with horrifying, blood-sucking monsters who would gladly turn you into a mangled corpse on their living room floor. You had no way to call for help, and your parents probably didn’t even know what was happening…

Your phone.

You patted your pockets and fished through them. Let’s see: some dirt, a crumpled flight itinerary, your house keys… aha!

“...what’s in the box?” Mary asked, “I don't think I’ve seen anything like it before.”

You blinked. Box? “Oh, this? It’s my phone.” You rotated it slowly in your fingers so she could easily see all its sides. “It’s a bit larger and blockier than your average iPhone because it’s designed to connect directly to the satellite, making it easy to call anyone from anywhere in the world. It cost me a lot of money, but since I was planning on traveling the world after I graduated, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to have it a few years early.”

Mary gave you a completely confused stare. “What’s an… iPhone? Or a sad-del-light? Did you make those up?”

You frowned, your eyebrow twitching in confusion. “Uh… no? I wouldn’t make anything like this up. You… you truly don’t know what modern technology is like?”

She shook her head. “I’ve… never been outside the village. I have no idea what the rest of the world is like.”

“And you don’t have a phone? Internet? Anything??”

“I’m afraid not,” She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, “the Lords don’t allow anyone to leave the village or write letters to the outside world.”

A chill shot up your spine. “That’s… terrifying…”

Mary nodded, then tilted her head, thinking. She pursed her lips and motioned with her finger for you to come closer. You lean your ear to her.

“What is it?” You whisper.

“There are rumors of a girl who escaped the Lord’s wrath,” she began, “apparently, she managed to leave the village unharmed. There was an old hag who used to moan about how her daughter left her for a new life. She sounded half mad, so no one bothered listening to her.”

Your grandmother. She was talking about your grandmother.

And your mom.

This meant that… your mom knew about these crazy monsters? That she let you come here, to a place where you would most likely die? Alone??

Nothing made sense anymore.

You realized you had zoned out of Mary’s story. You shook your head, bringing your attention back to the present.

“Is that a good idea?”

“Uh, sorry, what?” You blinked. Mary was staring at you like you were an idiot. (Which you were, but that’s not the point.)

“I said,” she repeated, “you need to blend in until we can figure out how to escape.”

“That’s… that’s a pretty good idea. And wait….” you repeated her words in your mind. “We? You want to come too?”

“Goddess, it’s like you’re dense or something.” Mary muttered under her breath. “Of course I want to leave! Are you out of your mi-“

“I get it, I get it,” you huffed, interrupting her, “What do we do now?”

“Now,” she folded her arms, “we need to get you a disguise.” She walked over to a tiny dresser in the far corner and pulled out a neatly-folded maid’s uniform. “I hope you’re my size.”

————————

Turns out you weren’t Mary’s size.

You couldn’t help it; your new friend was practically a walking stick. Your shoulders were too broad, your legs too long; but with Mary’s excellent sewing skills, you were able to make it work… sort of.

“Damn, this uniform is itchy,” you complained, scratching at the neckline.

“You’ll grow used to it after a while,” Mary replied. “Now we need to get to work or-“

“We’ll be made into wine. Got it.” You straightened out your sleeves.

She nodded. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you walked quickly and quietly out of the servant’s quarters. Your heart was racing. Every time you turned a corner, you half expected a bloodied monster to jump the both of you and tear out your arteries.

You rounded another bend and nearly walked into Mary. She had stopped suddenly and immediately fled to the side of the hallway, bowing deeply at the corridor. You quickly followed her lead.

The moment you bowed your head, a steady buzzing filled your ears.

Swarms of flies flitted through your vision as they flew down the hall, buzzing excitedly. Maliciously. You don’t know how they managed to convey such emotions, but they seemed…. off.

And then, they changed.

The insects spiraled and spun into a large, buzzing mass, sewing themselves into a completely different form; one with a deep black cloak, ghoulishly pale hands, wild blonde hair…

And blood-stained teeth.

Mary curtsied deeply and you were quick to follow suit. “Good evening, Lady Bela,” she said softly, refusing to look up, “how may we be of service?”

Bela gave a bored wave of her hand. “We’re a bit... short-staffed in the kitchens at the moment,” she drawled, “Mother doesn’t want dinner to be served a second too late. She-” Her eyes fell on you and she stopped dead in her tracks. “You smell familiar, human…” she growled.

Oh no, you were dead, you were dead, you were dead. Cold sweat fell from your neck, and your heart raced. Bela stepped closer to you, brows furrowed and hungry eyes glinting.

“They’re new, Lady Bela,” Maria said quickly.

She raised an immaculate brow. “New, you say?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“... I see.”

It was only a moment before she leaned away, but to you, it felt like hours. The Dimitrescu was a terrifyingly deadly whirlwind, one that seemed to stare directly into your soul… maybe even smell your fear. Bela’s lips twitched, giving you a glimpse of sharp fangs.

“Well then, newcomer,” she hissed, amusement dripping in her voice, “if you’re so eager to serve us, I want you to pour the wine.”

Your heart raced in panic, your hands shaking. Pouring the wine meant seeing these monsters at their most bloodthirsty. It meant you would get caught.

I won’t survive, you thought fearfully.

You quickly dropped into a clumsy curtsy before you forgot yourself. “A-as you wish, Lady Bela,” you choke out.

“Hm… we’ll see, won’t we.” She dissolved into a sea of flies and flew down the hallway and out of sight.

You breathed heavily. Your heart was still going a mile a minute. Before you could say anything, Mary grabbed your arm and tugged you along.

“Wha-“

“Shh,” she hissed. “Not yet.”

You followed her silently to the kitchen. This whole situation was too hard to process… you’d barely been in Romania for a day and you suddenly had to face the reality of your imminent death.

You felt lightheaded. Your vision swam.

“Where are you, draga mea?” A smooth, enchanting voice swirled in your mind. You felt your pulse hammering in your temples. The voice sounded so close, yet so far away. It was familiar and warm… but it was too hard to tell if it meant anything. You were too woozy, too lightheaded…

“It’s time to wake up, darling,” the voice continued dreamily, “Open your eyes for me?”

“...hey… hey!” A familiar voice hissed, “hello? Are you alright?”

Your eyes snapped open.

Mary stood in front of you, her hands on your shoulders. Once she saw you move, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you alright? You haven’t blinked for the past few minutes, nor have you responded to anything or anyone around you.”

“Yeah, I just…” you swallowed thickly. What was wrong with you? “... I just spaced out.” Mary frowned, giving you a suspicious glance, but didn’t push.

You were in the kitchen. Cooks and maids bustled around in an organized fashion, whispering instructions to each other while slicing, cooking, and plating bright red slabs of meat. You definitely didn’t want to know what kind the Dimitrescu’s were eating tonight.

Someone grabbed your arm and you flinched, turning around. It was one of the older cooks, a salt and pepper haired woman with soot-stained clothes and greasy calloused hands. She shoved a a bottle of wine into your hands so fast, you nearly dropped it. She glowered at you.

“As soon as the meal is served, you pop open the bottle and pour for everyone.” She hurriedly rattled off instructions. “When they finish their drink, pour them another. You do not look at them, you do not touch them or their glasses, you don’t even breathe around them. And for the love of the Goddess: Do. Not. Spill.”

You gulped and nodded. You just had to do your job, then leave. That’s all. You could do this.

Or so you told yourself.

The old woman gave you a quick look, and for a moment it seemed she gave you a twinge of a sympathetic smile. But just like that it was gone, replaced by her signature scowl.

“Alright, we go in three…” she held up three fingers covered in burn scars. One second passed. Then another.

The kitchen maids smoothly entered the dining room in one sweeping motion; a flurry of skirts and iron serving trays. You followed them close behind. The maids placed the trays in front of each Dimitrescu before fleeing to the kitchen single file.

And then it hit you.

You were the only maid who was supposed to stay throughout the entire meal.

Without you even knowing it, Bela had assigned you one of the most dangerous jobs at the castle; one where you had to stay, alone, in the same room as four hungry, bloodthirsty vampires.

You quickly began pouring the wine.

You walked around the massive mahogany table, trying your best not to spill the blood-red drink. You poured for Bela first, and you tried your absolute best not to look her in the eye. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw her grinning.

You moved on to the next Dimitrescu: a redhead with glistening fangs. As you poured, she suddenly hissed. In your surprise, you fumbled the bottle. But you didn’t spill.

The last sister (you assumed all three of them were sisters based on their similar appearances) was a brunette with mischievous eyes. You didn’t mean to look at her… you really didn’t…

Based on her low, rumbling cackle, you knew you were doomed.

The last Dimitrescu, the Lady Dimitrescu, was much different than the other three. She was incredibly tall, with a flowing white dress that fell to her ankles, a wide-brimmed hat…

And pearly-white satin gloves.

Why did that seem so familiar?

You shook your head. You had to stop thinking and just pour the wine! You only had one more glass to fill, after all.

The brunette stuck out her foot, and you went down.

You landed on top of the bottle, and it shattered under you. Glass and wine flew everywhere, piercing your clothes, slicing your skin, staining the rug…

And completely drenching the front of Lady Dimitrescu’s immaculate dress.

The air cracked with electricity. “You...” she hissed, in a stranglely familiar voice.

Before you could even beg for forgiveness, the towering terror of a woman stood from the table and grasped you by the collar before you could even blink.

She growled, breath smelling of blood. “You will pay for your insole-“ her breath hitched. Her death grip on you loosened and faded, till you dropped to the floor like a rag doll.

Fearfully, you looked up at her.

Her demeanor had completely changed. Where once stood a cold-hearted monster was a shocked, crying… woman. Tears streaked down her face, dripping from her chin as she sunk to the floor. She didn’t look like a monster, she looked… human.

The lady reached out a gloved hand, then flinched as if burned. She looked lost and confused and sad; unable to process what she was looking at… or rather, who she was looking at.

A chill ran up your spine, fearful tendrils snaking through your system as you both stared into each other’s eyes.

And then, Lady Dimitrescu uttered a single word, barely a whisper at all, and your stomach dropped. Your world spun.

“Y/N?”

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Everything you had ever known was completely useless, and your life would end at any moment, you were sure. You felt like crying, you felt like throwing up.

She said your name.

Lady Dimitrescu, one of the most powerful supernatural beings in the world, who couldn’t possibly know who you were, had said your name.

It was too much. There were too many strong emotions, too many near-death experiences in one day. Your body was bloody and exhausted, your energy spent.

You collapsed on the dining room floor, and your vision faded to black.

[fruitcoops]

I think it would be really interesting for leo and sirius to talk ab how they both didn’t go to college and how they both joined the nhl at 18 but had v different upbringings

Ooo, I like this one! I’m always down for some Cap and Knutty bonding. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for mentioned bad parenting

“Kinda weird, isn’t it?” Leo said, breaking the nighttime silence after many long minutes of just their breathing. Sirius hummed in question. “Starting all this so young.”

Sirius made a noncommittal noise and Leo shifted, never taking his eyes off the sky. There was too much light pollution to see the stars properly in Gryffindor, but the roof of the rink didn’t have a bad view; the planes flying overhead brought pinpricks of brightness to the indigo blur.

“Was it hard for you?”

He heard Sirius’ coat move. “Was what hard?”

“Starting the NHL at eighteen.”

There was a long beat of silence. “Sometimes.”

“I didn’t know if I would make it,” Leo confessed, still barely above a murmur. Nobody else was around, but it didn’t feel right to talk in normal voices. The whole world was muted, save for the noise of the city below them. “There was just so much to do.”

Sirius laughed softly. “I hate to break it to you, rookie, but that doesn’t change.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“Before, or now?”

Leo thought for a moment. “Both.”

“Before, I would go home and shoot pucks until I was too tired to stand up. Sometimes I would read.” It wasn’t a secret, but it still made Leo’s heart hurt to remember. Nobody as kind and hardworking as Sirius deserved that. “Now, I make myself some food, take a shower, and steal Re’s softest hoodie.”

Leo could hear his smile in the dark—it echoed his own. “Nothing better, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Finn’s fit me best,” he mused. “But Lo’s smell better.”

“Ah, he finally discovered deodorant?”

“Shut up,” Leo teased, elbowing his ribs. Sirius laughed a little louder; in the light of the streetlamps and the absence of his granite-hard focus, it was easy to remember that he was only 26. Leo had worshipped him as a kid, but now he just saw Sirius for what he was. His captain, who guided him through the playoffs even when his personal life was crumbling apart. His older brother, though Sirius certainly wouldn’t think of him that way. His friend.

“Really, though, it’s important to have those connections,” Sirius said when they both calmed down. “Being alone is good, but only if you know you have people to talk to when you need them.”

“Was it easier when you weren’t living with someone?”

“No.” The answer was immediate.

“Sometimes I want the apartment to myself.” Leo lowered his voice unconsciously, then sighed. “It’s not because I don’t want them there. I just need to be alone. Wash the dishes. Clean my room. Call my mom.”

“You should tell them.”

He turned his head slightly; Sirius was still scanning the sky. “Is that what you did?”

“It took a couple hiccups, but yeah. If one of us needs some alone time, the other will go to the grocery store or take a walk, maybe hang out with friends. You just have to make sure your boys know that it’s not personal.”

“You’re freakishly good at sage advice.”

Sirius snorted. “Merci, rookie.”

“I’m not a rookie anymore.”

“Yeah, you are.” He raised his hands, as if outlining a marquee. “The Eternal Rookie, starring Leo Knut.”

Leo stuck his tongue out, feeling rather petulant about the whole thing. “Watch it, Cap, I’m gonna sic Dumo on you.”

“My own father?” Sirius gasped dramatically. “How could you?”

“Did you ever get homesick?”

The question was out of the blue—he didn’t blame Sirius for faltering. Honestly, Leo was kicking himself for asking in the first place, though he had been keeping it in for ages. Unspoken rule of the Lions #1: Don’t ask Cap about his childhood.

“I…” Sirius fell silent once more.

“I’m sorry,” Leo apologized, and he meant it. “That came out of nowhere.”

“I missed Regulus,” Sirius continued carefully without acknowledging him. “But no, I didn’t get homesick. I didn’t have time, or a real reason.”

Alone in a new city, finally out of a horrible living situation, but desperately missing the little brother he left behind… Leo couldn’t even begin to imagine going through it when the NHL by itself was already overwhelming to his teenage brain. He scooted an inch closer until their shoulders touched. “I get homesick every couple of months.”

“You have a kind family.”

“Have you even met them?”

“At the party.” Sirius’ smile was practically audible. “Your mother was very excited to see me.”

“Oh, god,” Leo groaned. “What happened?”

“She—“ He broke off with a laugh. “She was very nice, I promise, but I think I surprised her because she squeaked when I said ‘hello’.”

Leo shook his head. “Did you sneak up on her?”

“I’m six two, I can’t sneak up on anyone!”

“You walk like a fucking ghost, dude! It’s creepy!”

“Okay, rude.”

“I swear, you and Loops need to be belled like cats,” Leo huffed.

They lapsed back into comfortable quiet for a few more minutes as a train rattled past on one side and the metro busses rolled down Main Street on the other. It had taken Leo a long time to figure out Gryff’s layout, and even longer to get used to the sounds of the city.

“What does it feel like?”

Leo blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. “What?”

“Being homesick.” Sirius shifted again and folded his hands over his stomach. “I didn’t notice much of a difference in practices when I started the NHL, and going back to my parents’ house wasn’t my exactly a highlight of my year.”

Curiosity overrode his tact and reasoning skills. “You never asked Logan?”

“Non. It was different, with him. He had already left to go to college before I knew him, and spent four years away from his family.”

“Right.” Leo forgot about that on occasion. That Finn and Logan might be five years older than him, but they had only been rookies a year or two prior. Not everyone went straight from their city select team to an official draft. “It’s hard to describe.”

Sirius made an understanding noise, but he couldn’t entirely mask his disappointment. Leo licked his lips and tried again.

“It’s like a piece of you isn’t where it’s supposed to be. And it keeps tugging on your chest, but you never know when it’s going to start and stop so you just… deal with it. You ignore it some days and you think about it other days.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “The hard days are when you remember you can’t go back to the way things were before. I don’t even call my mom sometimes, ‘cause I know it’ll make me sadder.”

“The way things were before?”

“Yeah, like—like all my classmates are in college, and I’m laying on a roof with one of the most famous hockey players in the history of forever.” That drew a light laugh from them both. “I’m gonna go back to my reunion in a couple years and have literally nothing in common with the people I used to be friends with.”

“Sometimes I wish I went to college,” Sirius said. “But I would have missed so much if I did. I don’t think I would have been happy there.”

“Finn and Logan get weird about college.” Maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it, but Leo had the feeling none of their conversation would leave the rooftop. “It was hard for them, with all their shit.”

“Re does, too.” He recognized the sad edge in Sirius’ voice; it was the same as his own. “For a different reason. It started good, and ended bad.”

“I’m glad I missed out on that,” Leo said, biting down the urge to scream at the universe for putting their significant others through so much hardship at an already-difficult time. None of them deserved the pain they went through. “Besides, it’s not like we need degrees to play hockey, and we’ll have plenty of money afterward.”

“I never thought about my life after hockey until my ankle.”

“My parents always pushed me to make sure I wanted to do the NHL instead of more school.”

“You’re lucky to have them.”

“I wish you did.”

The words hung suspended between them before Leo could swallow them back down, somehow dangerous and calming at the same time. It wasn’t like he had never thought about it before; he just hadn’t said it out loud. The first time he had seen Sirius’ parents across the rink had given him a case of the heebie-jeebies so strong he had to shower twice. All the times after that just made him angry.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sirius’ voice was quiet, but not upset. “You’re not the first person to say it. I’m glad you feel like you can be honest with me.”

Leo frowned. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

“I try really hard to not be an asshole captain, so it actually does mean a lot.”

“I don’t think you could be an asshole if you tried.”

The barking laugh that split the night startled Leo so bad he nearly jumped out of his skin; Sirius clapped a hand over his mouth, though he was still snickering. “Sorry, sorry, I just—holy shit, I forgot you didn’t know me before. Mon dieu.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Leo protested. “Pots said you used to be grumpier, but that’s it.”

Sirius shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “I was such a dick. There’s not a single picture of the whole team where I’m smiling for about two years and I was such a stickler for the rules.”

Leo gaped at him. “You followed rules?”

“To the fucking letter. It was awful.”

“What happened?”

Sirius shrugged. “I got friends. Idiot friends who did things like showing me the easiest way onto the roof. Pots used to drag me up here every Friday.”

“Really?”

“Ouais.” Mischief flitted over his face. “He skipped date night with Lily once on accident, and she tracked us up here like a bloodhound. It was terrifying.”

“What did you do?” Lily was one of the nicest people Leo knew, but he knew better than to get on her bad side.

“Lied to her face while James hid behind that strobe light.”

“Did it work?”

“Are you kidding?” he snorted. “She called me a liar and suggested getting a better best friend. That was after she told James he’s better have something nice planned for their next date if he ever wanted to get in her pants again.”

“And yet you didn’t listen to her.” Leo tsked. “Of all the people on the team, you chose the hot mess.”

“Trust me, rookie, James had his whole life figured out compared to me.”

“Did you…” Leo trailed off and but his lip. He had pushed his luck a lot already; who knew if one more question would be the tipping point? “Did you ever think about coming out? Even just to Pots.”

Sirius didn’t hesitate. “After every single game.”

“For seven years?”

“Up until the day those pictures were leaked. Even more after Re and I were together.”

“How old were you when you knew?”

“13. You?”

Leo exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure. I think I had an idea of it as a kid, but didn’t really get it until I was in high school. My parents were even more worried about the NHL after I told them.”

“They worry a lot about you.”

“Only child, and I was going for a wildly unstable career path with no guarantee that I would ever see the ice.”

“They’re proud of you. More than you know.” Sirius’ watch beeped. “It’s ten o’clock. Are you supposed to be home?”

“I should probably make sure my boys haven’t burned down the apartment.” Neither of them made an attempt to move. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“Of course.”

You’re like a brother to me, he wanted to say. I don’t know who else I can talk to like this. “Thank you.”

“Any time. We don’t have to do extra practice beforehand, either.”

Leo nudged him gently. “You’re the best captain ever.”

“You’re the best rookie, rookie.”

“I’m not a rookie.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Yeah, I am, he thought as they laid side-by-side in silence once more with the past behind them and the future ahead. And if I end up like you, it means I did something right.

[curlynerd]

Happy Birthday, Cas! Word Count: 3K Rating: T Summary: Appalled that Cas has never had a birthday party before, Jack drags Dean into his schemes to plan a surprise party for him. Dean finally works up the courage to tell Cas how he feels. Notes: love confessions, first kiss, lots of fluff, and lots of Cas' family showing up much they care

Also read on AO3!

"You've never celebrated Cas' birthday?!" Jack exclaimed by way of greeting at -- Dean groaned and rolled over to check the time. -- 6:47 in the morning.

"Jack..." Dean sighed, dragging his hand down his face and sitting up in bed. "We've been over this. You promised not to come barging in here until at least 8:30."

"Huh?" Jack titled his head at Dean before his gaze trailed over to the bedside clock. "Oh. Sorry. I forgot to check the time."

"All those God powers and you can't even conjure up a watch?" Dean grumbled as he threw the sheets off his legs and planted his feet on the floor. "Now what were you saying about Cas?"

"His birthday!" Jack's expression was too damn excitable for this early in the morning. "I was telling him about how we celebrated my birthday after Mrs. Butters left, and I asked him about his birthday, and he said he'd never celebrated one before!"

Dean frowned at Jack. This was what he was woken up for? "Kid, I don't think he has one. The dude's older than calendars."

Jack was undaunted. "Yeah, but he was born, right? Even angels are born."

Okay, it was way too early for existential questions. He needed coffee. Dean grunted his acknowledgment and dragged himself to his feet. "Did Cas say when his birthday was?"

"Well, no." Jack furrowed his brow for just a second before his face lit up in enthusiasm. "Why don't we celebrate today?"

Dean stared at Jack. Jack's eyes were wide and sincere and full of love, just like his dad's. And, apparently, just as effective. "Alright..." Dean said with a defeated sigh. Who was he to deny the kid a chance to make his dad happy? "Whacha wanna do for his birthday?"

Jack beamed. "A surprise party! With cake!"

"Yeah, I figured as much." Dean scrubbed at his hair and wiped the last of the sleep out of his eyes as he shuffled his feet into his slippers. "Coffee first, though. Then the store."

"What kind of cake should we make?" Jack asked an hour later, as he and Dean pondered every box mix the grocery store had to offer.

“Hmm…” Dean eyeballed the box of funfetti mix. Jack would probably like that one best. It had sprinkles baked in. Dean kind of wanted a classic chocolate cake. And Cas, well. He wouldn’t care. He’d probably take two bites at most, just to appease Jack.

“This one.” Dean’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he reached for a box and held it out for Jack.

“Angel food cake?” Jack read.

Dean nodded, his grin widening at his little joke. “Yeah! It’s special. Angels love it, ya know.”

Jack tilted his head at Dean, then the box, before a smile bloomed across his face. “You gave me angel food cake once. I really liked it! Is that why you got it for me?”

Dean thought back to that drive, and his little snack cakes morality test. “Yup. That was definitely why.” He snatched the box from Jack’s hand and tossed it into the cart before he could ask more questions. “Let’s wrap this up before Cas wonders why we’ve been gone so long.”

If Cas was ignorant of Jack’s birthday plans before, he wasn’t for long. Neither Dean nor Jack thought to do much to conceal the contents of their shopping bags when they returned home. Or figure out a way to keep Cas from wandering the bunker. So when he stumbled upon the two of them hauling bags toward the kitchen, both Dean and Jack traded suspicious glances.

“Dean and I will be in the kitchen for awhile,” Jack said seriously, cutting straight to the chase. “Do not come in there though!”

“Oh?” Cas’ gaze flickered down to their bags. A package of birthday hats stuck out of the opening of one. A canister of rainbow sprinkles was nestled at the top of another. His mouth twitched as his eyes softened with warmth. When they met Dean’s eyes, Dean’s stomach did a flip. Cas’ eyes grew even warmer.

‘He loves you,’ Dean’s thoughts helpfully supplied at the worst possible moment, ensuring Dean’s face burned with a fierce blush right as Cas looked his most adoring. Dean hastily averted his gaze.

Cas hadn’t been back from the Empty for long, only a couple of weeks really. But it felt like an eternity.

Because Dean hadn’t told him yet. He hadn’t looked him in the eyes and said ‘I love you too.’ Hadn’t dragged him in by the lapels of his stupid trenchcoat and kissed him senseless. Hadn’t held him close and promised him that he could have Dean, all of him, for as long as he wanted to keep him.

The moment had never been right. There were always people around. Jack. Sam. So many of their friends, eager to see them and celebrate their victory over Chuck and their newfound freedom. Things were only now starting to quiet down, and still Dean hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him.

“It’s for a surprise,” Jack continued, pulling Dean from his thoughts. “Er, not a surprise! We’re not planning any surprises!” Dean barely controlled his eyeroll. The kid really needed to work on his lying. “It’s something you can’t know about until later. So don’t even think about peeking!”

Cas and Dean traded knowing looks. Dean shrugged a little. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cas assured Jack.

Jack brightened. “Great! Come on, Dean. Let’s go!” He practically skipped toward the kitchen, radiating enthusiasm with every step. Dean sighed and followed after him, already anticipating the huge mess at the end of all this. At least it was just box mix. That was easy enough to handle.

As it turned out, even box mix wasn’t foolproof.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Jack asked in concern. He poked at the misshapen mess of their cake.

“Probably not.” Dean shrugged. It was a disaster zone, is what it was. Apparently angel food cake required a special pan. It looked similar enough to a bundt pan, though, so Dean thought it was an okay substitute. Clearly not. Or maybe they overmixed it? Was that why it sunk into this lumpy, craggy mess and then fell apart when they tried to shake it out of the pan?

“But ya know, homemade cake never looks as fancy as the stuff you get at the store, but it tastes just as good.” He slapped Jack on the back. “Put some frosting on this thing, maybe some decorations, and we’re golden.”

And so they set to work. Jack clearly had a vision of what he wanted, pulling supplies from the pantry to add to the disaster cake. He insisted on covering it in a thick layer of chocolate frosting, even though Dean tried to tell him angel food cake didn’t usually need it. It was vital to what he was creating. A full hour passed, and somehow the thing looked even worse than when it first flopped out of the pan.

“Cas is gonna love it,” Dean said anyway, because he knew it was true. Jack beamed with pride.

“At what point am I no longer banned from the kitchen?” Almost as if on cue, Cas’ voice called out from down the hallway. “Am I allowed to walk past it? I’d like to go into the library.”

“You can come in!” Jack yelled back, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

Dean looked around at the decoration-less kitchen, the party hats and the balloons still in their packaging. “Wait, hold on--” he began, but it was too late.

“SURPRISE!” Jack shouted as Cas rounded the corner. “Happy birthday, Cas!”

“A surprise for me?” Cas didn’t even seem to notice that the only things in the kitchen were a weird brown blob of cake and a massive mess. He was smiling from ear to ear at Jack with that special, endeared smile parents reserved just for their children. “But I told you I didn’t have a birthday,” Cas said. Which he and Jack had talked about literally hours ago. Before Jack raced off to talk with Dean and plan an impromptu trip to the store before baking all morning.

Yeah. Cas definitely knew what Jack was planning today.

“Well, Jack decided today was your birthday. So, happy birthday.” Dean shrugged a little in a ‘Kids. What can ya do?’ sort of way.

Cas’ expression softened. “Today is a perfect day for a birthday.”

“We made a cake!” Jack bounded over to Cas and practically dragged him to the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?”

“It is…” Cas frowned and knit his eyebrows together at the monstrosity before him. “An inside-out hedgehog?”

“It’s a Sarlacc Pit!” Jack exclaimed while Dean clutched at the table, doubled-over with laughter. Jack pointed out the pretzel rods jutting out around the misshapen, lumpy hole in the center of the sunken cake. They’d done their best to make the chocolate frosting around it look like smooth sand, but of course it was way too brown. And bits of warm cake kept breaking off while they iced it. “That’s its teeth, and that’s the sand. It’s a Star Wars cake!”

“Oh, of course it is!” Cas said generously. He patted Jack’s shoulder. “It’s wonderful, Jack. And Dean.” He nodded at Dean, who was still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah we’ve got ourselves the next Cake Boss over here. If the God thing doesn’t work out.” Dean’s voice rippled with laughter. He snatched up the bag of party hats and ripped it open. Cas looked exceedingly tolerant as Dean snapped one on his head with an impish grin. “So birthday boy, whacha wanna do on your special day?”

“Oh I know!” Jack exclaimed. His enthusiasm was infectious. “First we’ve gotta…”

The day wound up being more about Jack than Cas. Or rather, Jack doing all the things he loved to do with Cas. There was a Star Wars movie marathon. There was cake. There were more board games than Dean had played in a lifetime. Dean had a sneaking suspicion Cas let Jack win most of them.

But Cas had smiled almost non-stop the entire day, probably more than Dean had seen the entire thirteen years since he’d met him. And yeah, Dean knew why. What was better to do on his birthday than spend time with his kid?

By the end of the day, even Cas was looking a little tired. Dean was absolutely exhausted. He was half-tempted to drag himself to bed early, but when Jack finally retired to his own room to give Dean and Cas some time together, there wasn’t any hesitation about settling down in his favorite armchair, Cas beside him, with two glasses of Dean’s favorite whiskey to share.

The drink was warming through his limbs, but the light in Cas’ eyes was warmer. He looked content, if not a little overwhelmed by all the love his little family had shown him today. Dean leaned back in his chair and let the peacefulness of the moment wash over him.

“You know, it’s serendipitous Jack chose today for my birthday.” Cas smiled down at his glass.

Dean cracked a sleepy eye open. “Yeah? Why?”

“Well, today is the anniversary of the day I raised you from perdition.”

Dean stared at Cas. Cas eyes twinkled with nostalgia. “Really?” Cas nodded, and Dean laughed. “Well then I suppose it’s really my re-birthday.”

Cas chuckled. “I’ll remind Jack to bake two cakes next year.” They fell into easy silence, nursing their drinks as they reflected on the years.

“It really is a good birth date,” Cas said awhile later. “I may have been alive for eons before then, but the day I met you was when I changed...That was when I really started living.”

Dean’s heart leapt into his throat, Cas’ love confession ringing in his ears. “Didn’t I stab you?” he joked weakly, deflecting the spiraling nerves that bubbled up in his chest.

Cas laughed. “Yes. Yes, you did. I didn’t realize it at the time, but even then you were making me feel. Mostly confusion,” he added with a wry twist of his lips. “I saved you from eternal damnation, and you repaid me by stabbing me in the chest!” Despite his amusement, Cas’ eyes were overflowing with warmth and affection. Dean could almost read the thoughts going on behind them. ‘I fell a little bit in love with you right then.’

“What can I say? I have that effect on people.” ‘Now,’ his thoughts urged. ‘Tell him now!’ “I dunno what I’d have done without you,” Dean mused around a sip of whiskey. A little more liquid courage. A little more and he could do this.

“Another angel would have been sent. You would have been pulled from Hell anyway.”

“Not what I meant, Cas,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “All of it. All the crap we’ve been through. All the crap Chuck put us through. Put me through.” He watched the way the warm lamplight reflected off his drink. “I...I’m glad I had a best friend through it all. You know?”

“Yes,” Cas said, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice that made Dean look up. He was smiling softly, but the longing in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Dean sighed. His gut churned with fear and guilt and yearning. He knew Cas loved him. And he knew he loved Cas. Hell, he’d known that for a helluva lot longer than he’d known of Cas’ feelings. He just needed one little push to make him confront those feelings head-on.

“Ya know, I think I have one more present for you.” Dean set his glass down with heavy meaning. He nodded to himself and stood up, his jaw set firm, his eyes determined.

“You do?” Cas started to ask. “What--” And before he could finish his sentence, Dean crawled into the chair with him, his knees straddling Cas’ hips, bracing himself against the backrest with one hand. Cas’ eyes went huge. “Dean?” His voice trembled.

Dean was pretty sure he looked even more nervous, but he’d be damned if he owned up to it. “Hey birthday boy,” he hummed, forcing a flirtatious smile despite the anxiety pounding in his chest. He was going to kiss Cas. God how he wanted to kiss Cas.

But instead of looking delighted Cas looked...hurt. “Dean, you don’t have to do this for me.”

Dean’s heart went cold. “For you? You don’t think I want this?”

“No,” Cas said simply. Honestly. His bright blue eyes were so close now, but the heartache in them was almost painful to look at.

Dean swallowed thickly. “Well then you’re dumber than you look,” he teased, forcing bravado he did not feel. Dean leaned in until his forehead rested against Cas’. He could feel Cas’ warm breath across his lips. “Cas, if I could pick anyone in the whole damn world to be with, it’d be my best friend. You know that, right?” Cas licked his lips. Dean yearned to tilt his head down and catch them with his own. “But I thought you didn’t...Couldn’t...Well, I thought love wasn’t something angels did.”

“But I told you, Dean. When the Empty came, I told you--”

“Yeah I know. But you know how I drag my ass for important stuff.” That finally elicited a tiny puff of laughter from Cas. Dean smiled. “Come on, man. Cut me some slack. Lemme use this as an excuse to nut up and kiss you.”

As it turned out, Dean didn’t need to, because Cas surged up and pressed their lips together.

Dean gasped into the kiss as his hand resettled itself on Cas’ shoulder. Cas’ glass clattered as he hastily set it on the table in order to hold Dean’s waist with both hands. Cas kissed like he was starving for it, voracious and desperate, licking his way into Dean’s mouth without preamble and moaning deeply into the heat he found there.

Dean gave as good as he got, letting over a decade of longing finally escape through the hot, greedy press of their lips together, through the long trailing kisses along Cas’ jaw while Cas dragged his hands down Dean’s back and up underneath his shirt.

“We should...do this in my room…” Dean whispered in Cas’ ear as his teeth nipped at the sensitive area. Cas nodded and, without warning, stood up with Dean still wrapped around him. Dean startled and reflexively jerked his feet down toward the floor, though he realized with delight that Cas could almost certainly carry him the entire way if he wanted. Later. He’d test that out later. For now Dean grabbed Cas by the tie with a lecherous twinkle in his eye and hauled him in the direction of his bedroom. Soon to be their bedroom, if Dean had anything to say about it.

Much, much later, when they were tangled together beneath the sheets with Dean’s head nestled on Cas’ chest, Dean realized that Cas had been wrong. Because his happiest moment wasn’t when the Empty took him away. It wasn’t in just saying how he felt.

Because it was in loving, yes, but it was also in being loved.

Because when Dean peeked up at Cas’ face, he was radiating so much happiness Dean’s heart ached from it. Today was the happiest he’d ever been. And perhaps tomorrow, if Dean had anything to say about it, tomorrow he’d be even happier.

Cas’ eyes were full of love as he carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I know I don’t have any others to compare this against, but today was a very good birthday.”

“Good.” Dean pressed a sleepy kiss to Cas’ skin as his eyes drifted closed. “You deserve it.”

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 14: Back to Basics (De-Aged)

AO3

Prev

The constant attention after her temporary death was a little stifling. Adrien was good about not overwhelming her. He’d seen her take bad hits before and he knew (from personal experience) that the cure would bring the two of them back to normal. No, despite being there in person as she died, Adrien was not drowning her in attention. She was thankful.

Her family, despite her constant reassurances however, did not get the memo. That she was okay. That she would be okay. Now and in future attacks. No, instead they constantly blew up her phone. ESPECIALLY during akuma attacks. Which was one of the only times she didn’t even have her phone on her. But whatever. One good thing did come from her temporary death though. She was talking to her dad. Like, actually talking. The bonding kind of talking. He wouldn’t talk to her about hero stuff (though she imagined he also wanted to forget about her “death” seeing as it was the third time he’d seen the dead body of one of his children). No, instead they got to know each other. She asked about Bridgette, which led to her finding out about his fiance- Selina Kyle. Marinette was really looking forward to meeting her, hopefully next time she took a portal to Gotham.

They also talked about Marinette’s designs- Uncle Jagged, MDC, how the company started, where she wanted to go with the company. Most of their conversations stayed at the surface level of getting to know you, but they were definitely getting closer. Though, she thought that if he’d just talked to her about hero work already (or took her on another patrol), their bonding would happen more naturally. Less like twenty questions. Her brothers, though…

Her brothers were constantly asking questions about how she was, how she felt, if she was safe, if she was sure they couldn’t convince her to leave Paris. It was a lot. But still nice. Nice to know that they cared so much, even if her death was only temporary (as she’d tried to remind them a million times).

The whole “dying painfully and then being resurrected after the battle” thing also led to her and Adrien making a lot of plans. Different ideas and things to do in case of certain akumas, types of attacks, deaths, just a LOT of contingency plans. She’d filled Alfred in on some of the plans, since several involved that half of her family or running to Gotham. But she didn’t tell her brothers. Or her dad. No need to worry or stress them out more than they already were. So she moved on. For several weeks. An entire month passed without Hawkmoth using a nightmare inducing akuma. It was nice. --- Adrien Agreste was not having a good day. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault though. Well, okay that’s a lie. It was definitely his fault. He’d thought after his crazy declaration in Gotham, asking Mari out would be easy. Simple. It was not. All the times he’d said she was “just a friend” were definitely coming back to haunt him. Every single time he tried to ask her out, something happened. An akuma attack. Marinette fell. Emergency photoshoot. Mari dropped all of her stuff and was almost late to class. Lila got someone to confront Marinette about something. He suddenly had an extra fencing lesson with Kagami.

But no more. No. Even though today hasn’t exactly gone as planned (overslept, late for photoshoot which made him extra late for school, got permission to eat at school but forgot to bring his food and then Mari left lunch instead of staying because her brother called so he didn’t even get to see her, forgot his science homework- yeah, bad day) it would be better. Because now he’s walking over to Mari’s and he’s going to ask her out if it’s the last- The shrill blaring of the akuma alarm breaks him out of his thoughts. Really? Now? Groaning, he darts into an alley.

“I blame you.” He deadpans to Plagg, glaring at the kwami’s maniacal laughter.

“Sure kid, sure. You know Pigtails is crazy ‘bout you. Doesn’t mean anything that you can’t ask her out.” He says once his laughter dies down.

“I hope you’re right.” Adrien mumbles. “Plagg, claws out!” He smirks as he’s transformed, feeling a lightness he hasn’t felt all day. He immediately uses his staff to launch himself onto the roof, taking in his surroundings. No crazy weather. No giant stone monster or baby. Nothing flying around. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Frowning, he retracts his staff to call Ladybug. It rings, but she doesn’t answer.

“Hey Bugaboo. Where should we meet? I don’t see anything unusual. Call me back.” He hands up and decides his best bet is to patrol around, keep an eye out for anything unusual. Just as he starts to think that maybe it was a false alarm, a red blob flies at him. He blinks.

“Chat! Follow me!” Tikki directs, whirling around and zooming away. Adrien’s heart sinks. Please let her be okay. I can’t watch her die again. Please. The words go on a cycle in his head as he runs behind Tikki, too worried to ask. He frowns when she dips down into an alley where someone- not Mari- is waiting.

“What’s going on?” He asks, completely confused.

“The akuma was able to get to Marinette before she could transform.” Tikki explains and Adrien frowns.

“Marinette? Are you- that’s Marinette?” He asks in bewilderment. The girl standing in front of him couldn’t be older than three.

“Unfortunately. The akuma can de-age people.” Tikki says with a sigh.

“Oh gosh, okay. Hi, I’m Chat Noir!” Adrien says, squatting down so that he’s eye level. He extends a hand, smiling at the girl.

“Kitty!” She giggles, throwing her arms around him.

“Oh, uh, hi.” He says, putting his arms around her and picking her up. He turns to Tikki.

“So is this one of those “take her to Mr. Wayne until the fight is over because she can’t be Ladybug right now” situations? Or a “hide her until this is all over” situation? We had  a lot of plans. De-aging was not one of them.” Adrien asks.

“Take her to Mr. Wayne. This akuma is sneaky and we can’t risk Marinette revealing her identity.” Tikki says.

“What?” Adrien asks. How could a baby Mari reveal her identity?

“Adri, wanna cookie please.” Mari says with a pout. His jaw drops and she giggles, patting his face. “Silly kitty!”

“She still knows?” He asks, his voice jumping an octave as he panics. How much did she know? Did she still know everything about the other kwami and the other heroes and- oh god, her dad is Batman. Oh this could be bad. Very bad.

“Okay, nevermind that, where are the glasses? I’ve got to get her out of here before someone hears her tell everyone’s secrets.” Adrien says, suddenly understanding the entire situation.

“Here go!” Mari says, pulling glasses out of her purse. Adrien takes them with a forced smile and merges Plagg and Kaalki. Though the akuma didn’t appear to be deadly, it was going to be a long battle for just one person. Especially since this akuma was actually good at hiding. He makes the portal and steps through, scoffing at the immediate defensive stances from her brothers.

“I’ve been here before.” He reminds them, letting his transformation fall.

“Who’s the kid?” Jason asks, going back to his breakfast when he deems Adrien not a threat. Adrien grimaces.

“So, yeah about that...um, Plagg will explain.” He says, slipping the ring onto Mari’s finger and taking the earrings. Time to get out of this mess. --- Bruce blinks as Adrien leaves as quickly as he came, no explanation. Only a ring of light. He glances at the little girl and frowns. Based on pictures he’d seen, he’d guess the girl was Marinette. But his daughter was a teenager. Which meant this little girl couldn’t be Marinette. But then who-

“Daddy!” She squeals, finally looking at him with her bright eyes. She runs up to him and raises her arms. He blinks, unsure of what she wants. She huffs. “Up.” She demands. He picks her up, eyebrows furrowed as she squeezes him tightly.

“Marinette?” He asks, still confused. A loud cackling draws his attention to the tiny floating black cat at the other end of the table. Of course.

“Pigtails is gonna freak about this later.” He says with a snort.

“And you are?” Bruce asks, wary of the creature. It was definitely not hostile, Adrien did leave it here. But he was still uncertain of its intentions.

“Plagg. The black ca kwami. Akuma back in Paris hit her and you all are her safe house. If she’s unable to fight as Ladybug, someone is supposed to bring her here. The kid or her, if she can still use a Miraculous.” Plagg explains, glancing around. “Say, you got any cheese?” He adds, and just like that, the kwami is off-supposedly to find cheese in the kitchen.

“So- how does she know you if she’s this little? She’s gotta be like, three.” Dick asks with a frown. “You just met.”

“Cause I’m Batman!” Marinette says, mimicking his voice. Jason snorts.

“Sure Pixie, and I’m Ladybug.” He says, reaching over and ruffling her hair.

“No, I am!” She pouts, crossing her arms. “You can’t be, you’re Red Hood.” She adds. Tim- who had been silently sipping coffee- spits over the entire table.

“Good job Drake. Now breakfast is ruined for everyone.” Damian sneers.

“She knows! But she’s tiny! She shouldn’t-” Tim rants.

“It’s magic, Drake.” Damian says, cutting him off. “I am unsure of what you expect. Now, since breakfast is ruined, I will be taking Titus on a walk.” He adds, standing up and starting to leave. Bruce is barely able to stop Marinette from falling as she leaps from his lap and rushes to Damian.

“Can I come?” She asks with a wide smile. Damian hesitates, glancing at him. Bruce shrugs. “Can I come, please?” Marinette adds, sticking out her lip in a pout.

“Tt. I suppose you can come with.” He says with pursed lips. Marinette squeals, grabbing Damian’s hand and tugging him along. The sound of a camera shutter makes Bruce whirl around to see- of course. Dick had his phone out and was taking picture after picture, a wide smile on his face as the two walked away, Marinette babbling on about how cool superheroes are as they walk.

“Who would’ve thought we’d be able to get pictures of baby Mari with us!” He says cheerfully, looking down at his phone. Bruce stills. He could have pictures with one of his kids, as a baby. He glances over at Tim, trying to figure out a way to ask that wouldn’t be too weird. Was the request too weird?

“Don’t worry, B. Already on it.” Tim says, shaking his phone. “Got several pictures of your little hug situation.” He adds. Bruce nods. Still…

“Everyone in the parlor in five minutes. Make sure Alfred comes too. I’ll go get Damian and Marinette.” Bruce says, standing from the table.

“For what?” Jason asks, visually bristling at the orders. Though their relationship was getting better, it was still rocky. And it likely would be for years.

“A family picture.” Bruce says simply. They’d have to take another when Marinette is herself, but he wasn’t about to miss this opportunity. --- Damian Wayne was many things. A former member of the League of Assassins. The current, (and in his unbiased opinion, best) Robin, an animal lover, a brother and a son. He also enjoyed drawing, occasionally painting too. What he was not, was a babysitter. He did not enjoy small children. They often cried for no reason, talked too much and smelled odd. His sister, luckily, did not smell odd. Nor had she cried. She was, however, babbling incoherently. And smiling. Nonstop. It was odd, but not awful. Looking down at the small girl, he was suddenly struck with the awful memory of her death. Of the sword that- no. She was fine. She may be a toddler now, but she was still fine.

“And then, Chat was a bad guy.” She says as he tunes back into her words. He frowns. That’s odd.

“What do you mean?” He asks, sure he misheard her.

“Chat! His suit turned bad and the moon went boom!” She exclaims, gesturing with her hands to mimic an explosion. Why was there no footage of this?

“That sounds like a very bad dream.” He leads, certain that it was just one of her fears. He knew Marinette struggled with anxiety and doubted herself as a hero. Surely that’s all she was referring to. She shakes her head.

“Nu-uh. Not a dream.” She denies, frowning. He starts to ask for clarification, to try and help, when she squeals and runs forward, wrapping her tiny arms around Titus. Damian sighs. It was useless to attempt to have an actual discussion with her right now anyway. Perhaps later they could revisit the topic.

“Careful, Titus.” Damian says, slightly concerned for how the large dog would react to Marinette. He had never really been around small children before, and while he was nice, some dogs just disliked children. Not that Damian blamed them. Instead of knocking her down or growling at her though, Titus nuzzles into her. Gently pushing her along as they walk around the gardens. Damian feels his lip quirk up in a smile. Pulling his phone out, he takes a quick picture, certain Marinette would like to see it later. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Father walking towards them swiftly.

“Father.” He acknowledges.

“Damian. We’re going to take some pictures together before she turns back.” Father says, glancing at Marinette who was giggling against Titus. She turns and notices the two talking, her smile growing even wider.

“Daddy!” She cheers, running forward and jumping into Father’s arms. Damian quirks an eyebrow at the uncharacteristically large smile on his father’s face. It was odd, but he also knew that his father regretted losing so much time with both him and Marinette. The others it was to be expected, but to not even have that time with his own blood children….

“Did you have fun with Damian, sweetheart?” He asks, and Damian blinks at the surprisingly soft tone. Very odd. He suddenly couldn’t wait for Marinette to turn back. He did not care for the sudden changes in his father.

“Yup! Dami showed me the flowers and the trees and Titus is so silly!” She rambles, nearly whacking Father in the face as she gestures wildly. Damian barely holds back a snort as he watches them.

“I’m so glad you had fun. Can we go inside now, there’s some things we want to do before you go back to Paris.” He explains. Marinette frowns, a pout replacing her large smile.

“I don’t wanna.” She whines, and Damian is shocked to see tears. Actual tears.

“Why don’t you want to go home?” Father asks, and the look on his face makes it obvious. He’s thrown.

“Tired.” She says, laying her head on Father’s shoulder. “Akumas are bad.” She adds.

“We’re going to help Marinette. You won’t be alone anymore. You and Chat Noir will both have help. We’ll figure this out.” Father assures her, holding her.

“Perhaps we could continue this conversation later, Father. You wanted to take pictures and there is no guarantee how long she will be...young.” Damian points out, making a mental note to also bring up the ‘Chat was bad’ scenario later.

“Er, yes. Let’s go. Come on honey, it’s okay. You’re still here.” Father says, turning and walking towards the house, quietly reassuring Marinette until she starts smiling again. While seeing his older sister younger than him was entertaining, Damian much preferred older Marinette. She had a better handle on her emotions. And though he would never admit it to her face, was also much more bearable in conversation. --- Jason was not fond of family pictures. Hell, he wasn’t fond of most things that involved family bonding. He’d been around more since they discovered Marinette, but that was mostly to make sure that Bruce didn’t fuck it up too badly. The kid was the most emotionally available one he had. She could do more than brood. And Jason was not about to let Bruce mess that up by being an asshole. So, sure, he’d been around more. But that didn’t mean he had to be in a family picture.

“I don’t wanna.” He argues, glaring at Dick who was trying to get him to come stand next to him. Dick, Alfred and Replacement were all coming up with poses will B got Demon Spawn and Pixie to come back inside. Jason wanted no part of any of it.

“Master Jason, this is a unique opportunity.” Alfred chastises. Jason rolls his eyes.

“I’ll join when he finds another kid.” He mumbles, trying not to sound too bitter. He wasn’t mad at Marinette, not at all. But being Bruce Wayne’s kid was a fucking recipe for disaster. Three of them had died (and come back). All of them were a vigilante or hero of some sort. None of them had a normal life. So as nice as it could be, being a kid of the Bruce Wayne, it was also a bit of a curse.

“Jay!” Marinette squeals, practically throwing herself from Bruce’s arms as they walk into the room. Jason lunges forward, catching her.

“Shit, Pix, you just about fell.” He swears, eyes wide as she giggles uncontrollably.

“Language.” Dick calls. Jason narrows his eyes, about to argue, when Marinette shifts in his arms. Oh yeah. She’s kind of tiny right now. Probably shouldn’t say anything too bad.

“Daddy says we’re gonna take pictures!” She says, grinning widely. Jason winces. Damnit Bruce.

“Really? Well, I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.” He says, preparing to put her down so that he can dip out.

“We have to get a picture of just the kids too! Daddy says we’ll take more another day, but we gotta hurry.” She rambles, struggling in his arms to be let down. He sets her down, taken aback by how strong she is as she grabs his hand and tugs him behind the couch. Standing right next to Dick. Of fucking course.

“Pix, I don’t-” He tries to say.

“Nope. Picture time!” She cheers, running back to Bruce. Jason shakes his head. Of fucking course the Pixie was gonna get him to do some stupid shit he didn’t want to do. Of course. --- Alfred glances at the new pictures on the wall as he walks down to the kitchen. It had been a few days since Miss Marinette had left. A few days since he was able to see a genuine smile on Master Bruce’s face. The family had managed to get dozens of pictures and videos on that day, including a picture with himself, Master Bruce and the children. Glancing at the picture of just the children, all laughing and cuddled up on the couch, Alfred smiles. It was nice to have these pictures, pictures with genuine joy on his family’s face. Even if it happened because of a villain attack.

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