#god you idiot just stop ALL YOUR OTHER OPTIONS ARE MOSTLY WORSE

[tarraxahum-ish]

one would think I'd be glad to be potentially offered my old job back in the midst of a crisis and having absolutely no job perspectives

but I've been crying (I'd say full on whailing) and trying very hard not to throw up for 6,5 hours now

and I'd very much like my fucking body/psyche/nerves/whoever the fuck is doing this TO STOP

[frogtanii]

[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[blindtaleteller]

Marvel Comic moments and character points that deeply inspire my MCU-flavored Lokiverse, followed by some of the exerpts that result from that influence. Because someone in my discords asked, and said I should.

LISTEN (Vestibule HVRA-0616.04.03 - Door/Universe 3)

  " They all are; the last safe pieces of me left; that none of them, or the ones they left me in the hands of to torture.. to be made to give it up just to survive because they knew, and they saw; and.. " that sharp breath in and the slow breath out: audible. Reaching for control when that and his words had sped up with the edges of anger was forced to drop off. " They left me there. Watched through Heimdall's eyes and did nothing, nothing to stop it. That's how valuable a son I was as what I am. What they lied and told me I wasn't, for all my life. How loved a brother. A year of .. all, that. Left to be tortured and definitely killed without that deal, once he was done with me. "

           Oh.. god Thor. You big stupid idiot. That had better not be true. He had better be lying..

      " If you don't wanna talk about-- " Tony, badly wanting to backtrack. Natasha wanted him to too, just hearing the way, never mind the words coming out of his mouth.

                " I say the summary of it now or I won't get through saying any of it again any time soon. " was just as quick and .. a little defiant. " I refuse. And refuse to refuse this to you especially, if those words are real. " was almost clipped. And she got it.Nat almost wished she didn't. " Do you love this me. Aaron? "

 " I love you. "

       " You love the last pieces of me that still matter then. The man still left that took that deal with every, malicious, vindictive intent to kick it back in his face and steal everything that bastard wanted as repayment; and keep what was left of me, and all of you who had the memory whether you knew it or not, safe. Or as much as I could under the stone's influence, with Ultron still running around inside it. Or the Other constantly in my head as a reminder and near constant watch. A few hundred, for a few billion lives. The whole of everything left I loved here, to keep that alive? Stay me regardless of him? Or of Odin? Or of any of the rest? Worth it. Always, forever; worth it. No matter how much I missed coming here the way I used to. At least it's here still to keep growing. Even if it's a few people short, it's a few heroes greater too after I pushed you. It's all I could manage. "

     Cue Clint rushing the back door. Cue the bang of it being all but kicked open as that registered. She only looked up and after him stomping and kicking at the gravel on the side of the road when he stopped to snap a particularly hard kick of gravel across the grass in the ditch. Because what else was there to do, but rage, and squat down like that with your back to the road? How could you not, grip at the back of your head when you learned that the man you had been blaming for the blackest marks there were in your recent history; had been tortured and left to it and dying that way by his much more capable intergalactic family to force him into it, and doing what his torturer wanted?

     Who was there left in reach to blame now?

          What was there to ask? Why he hadn't chosen to just die? In a way they didn't understand, for people who had all but abandoned him to that, and from the sounds of it more?

GROUNDED (Vestibule HVRA-0616.01.08 - Door/Universe 8) Book 2: Chapter  11

When the clash came, Bucky barely caught it. The pressure grinding their blades against each other. He’d have to sharpen his again after this. “ There are times when the faces beyond that particular threshold are all we have, and all we can have. “ Loki was stronger, but Buck noticed the control too. It wasn’t that he was holding back; it was that he was measuring a limit to set himself to; when Buck was half pushed back by the shove. “ For some of me, I am better family to myself than any other in our own worlds. “

           “ Is that how it is for Gin? “ Not even a nod when they clashed again; Loki wrestling by half with his prosthetic arm; the even catch of their calves wrestling below for the imbalance turning into a stalemate. “ You’ll know it anyway on your own, but aside from one particular person; yes.  His world is  ..far  harsher. Things did not go as planned.  Many more died. He bears the brunt of it. The rest, you should find mostly on your own if you want it. “

              “ You think of him like a brother… a  real brother. “ surprised him a little bit as those tones registered and they conceded that draw, a step back for both of them. Adjusting grips, assessing movement; potential strikes.

                      “ Yes. You’ll  probably  understand why before long. It’s rare he takes to  anyone  not one of us. And he  never  claims as much outright, even in the  exceedingly rare  occasions when he does. “

Roll Call - Vestibule HVRA0616.01 (aka The Inbetween [platovember prompts FINAL BONUS ENTRY])

       " I think I heard enough.. " was the bile rising with that last one. Tony didn't think he could do that, even if Loge looked at Gin's door fondly. His eyes ended up on his mug.

              " Have you really? " in that tone, oddly sympathetic; tugged his browns up to silvery, too-blues quicker than he thought he should like. And put a pause on the thoughts he had there for the expression. " The point is.. all of us are different, but all of us are the same man, somewhere. "

    " Yeah, I know. Same Loki.. different choices. "

           " The same Anthony Edward Stark, before you choose differently; too. " was what cocked his head back a little. Knocked the breath out of most of the downward thoughts. More so when he slid the point of that finger fully around the room looking right at him. " Twenty one of you. And every single one a champion. Perhaps not always on our side. Perhaps not always finding themselves with the option to choose to step into this room or not. But still you, the same way every one of those who opens the door in the first place is still me. Every single one.. " pointed still, along the turn of the walls to land on him. " Could have been you, but wasn't. Just as easily as you could have been any single one of them; but you aren't. Very few of them, have the balls or desire to face this room and what it is and what it means; and what it represents. This is why we call our others Mirrors. And why the universes connected are also called shards. These are the stories of your life, and our lives too yes; that you were never able to tell. The pieces you missed catching; and the pieces you have caught. The care, and passion, and handsome defiance still remains. You are you and separate. But you are also much more than what anyone sees, that doesn't come into this room; peek into it's doors: and see or hear for themselves. "

    " ..so basically; Fate has the ball: so you may as well roll along with it? "

            " Or learn her habits so you can shift her direction. " came with a soft huff of a laugh before Loki finished off his coffee. " I'm saying; whatever brought you in here to take my usual stance and sit against the door frame to sulk, or distract yourself from eyes that know you better -- " made Tony look at this one differently, but then : he was pretty sure that was the point. " -- will still be there when you go back. But; if you must come in here to steal my internal drama time: at least make certain that while you do you take note that whatever it is that brought you here, it could as easily be worse rather than better. "

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Soulmate September

Series Summary- a collection of one shots exploring different ships and au concepts. The list I created and am following can be found here.

Day One: Sparks Fly

Summary: Virgil goes deeper into the forest than he’s ventured before in the hopes of gathering more food. He finds more than he bargained for when a fairy claiming to be the prince of the forest begins to follow him.

Warnings: food mention. If there’s more please let me know!

Ships: Prinxiety (Virgil x Roman)

Prompt: Feel a spark when you touch your soulmate

WC: 3959

AO3

Tugging his long, dark cloak impatiently away from a jagged branch, Virgil skid down the steep embankment swearing the entire way. He didn’t often venture this far into the woods but he was getting just desperate enough to find gatherable ingredients he had decided to risk it. Honestly as long as he kept his eyes straight ahead and avoided the beckoning twinkles of light between the trees he should be fine. Thankfully this time of year the river was reduced to a large creek at best, making crossing to the other side where he was certain to find berries and mushrooms aplenty quite easy. It was only a matter of keeping his balance on the slimy rocks that normally made up the river bed, a skill he had mastered before he had even been entrusted as a gatherer.

Hiking his pants up to just below his knees he carefully adjusted his pack to be more balanced and draped the bottom of his cloak over his arm for good measure. The last thing he needed was to be scolded for dripping mud all over the floors again when he returned to the kitchens. Absentmindedly rubbing the stinging memory from the back of his head he hopped to the first rock, breath hissing between his teeth as the cold water rushed over his heated skin. With another breath he was perched on the second rock and then the third, toes gripping the moss in a mostly unneeded measure for stability. Wiggling a bit so his pack would recenter he eyed his next target, muscles tensing in preparation for the bigger leap.

“What are you doing?”

Squawking in alarm, Virgil tipped back dangerously, arms pinwheeling as his feet lost their purchase and let him fall backwards into the creek. Taking a brief moment to thank the gods he hadn’t landed on a rock he sat up quickly, sputtering as water ran down his face and soaked his shirt more than it already was. His cloak dragged behind him as he tried to get up, aiding only in him slipping back again with an unceremonial splash.

“Oh my dear I didn’t mean to frighten you!” There was more mirth than malice in the voice but that didn’t stop Virgil from flinching away from the strange hand that reached towards him. It retreated as he shoved sopping hair from his eyes and squinted against the sun to try and see what idiot made it a habit to scare people when they were jumping on wet stones. His breath caught when a face finally came into focus, sunlight forming a halo around the most beautiful person Virgil had ever seen.

His brightness was almost blinding, with shining red curls looking like spun gold in the light. Sharp features complemented kind brown eyes and tanned skin flecked with earth. Like Virgil he was barefoot, but instead of wearing sturdy pants and shirt to protect himself from the woods, autumn-red pants flowed just below his knees with an equally flowy white shirt tucked into them and unbuttoned to the chest. Despite the darkness of his skin he seemed to radiate his own gentle light that somehow made the sun look dull by comparison, making Virgil idly wonder if this was what seeing a god was like.

“Prince actually, but you do know how to inflate the ego.” The man chuckled.

Face burning with the realization that he had not only said that outloud but he had also been sitting in the water gaping like a stunned fish for entirely too long. Mumbling low curses under his breath he once again struggled to his feet while waving away the other’s outstretched hand impatiently. A fairy prince coming to pester someone with zero assets or connections- the fae were worse pranksters than they had the reputation for. Sighing, he decided to wade the rest of the way through the creek since he was already soaked, leaving the stranger behind in hopes he would stay there.

“So you never did answer.” No such luck apparently. “You do realize what part of the forest you’re in right?”

Virgil gritted his teeth. “I don’t wish to consort with your kind fae. I’ll only be in here for a little while.”

“My kind?” Virgil winced as he detected insult in his tone. “My kind are the reason your kind feel safe enough to traipse wherever you please regardless of obvious territorial lines!”

Virgil glanced at him quickly as he began scrambling up the incline of the bank. “Territorial lines?”

The man drew himself up proudly, keeping pace with Virgil as he effortlessly stepped his way up the embankment rather than crawling. “This part of the forest is mine, a long way from the edge of the river by your route. I could turn you into dandelion fluff for trespassing here.”

Virgil raised an unimpressed brow as he searched around for his next handhold. “Mhm, I’m sure you could.”

Smirking as the other man stomped his foot impatiently he made it up and over to the other side, slinging his pack around to see how damaged the things he had already gathered were from his earlier fall. Shoulders sinking as he surveyed the smashed contents he shot a glare at the stranger, who was currently standing on tiptoes with his arms crossed trying to see inside the bag.

“Humans used to grovel at our feet, what happened to that? Also is it custom to smash ingredients well before they’re cooked? I’m not caught up with the latest human affairs. Terribly dull, most of them.”

Gritting his teeth Virgil dumped the berries and mushrooms he had collected onto the forest floor, water that had seeped in from the top sloshing out as well and coming out like a weird, thick juice for all the mush everything had turned into. “They only smashed because I fell- something I never do unless someone decides it's a good idea to startle someone who’s trying to balance.”

The man looked unimpressed. “Why were you coming over this way anyway? There should be plenty of the things you were collecting on the other side of the river...and much closer to the nearest village too might I add.”

“Fall makes the pickings slimmer the closer to the village you are. Other people gather, animals eat what ‘s left, sparcer trees means more sun means things ripen and fall faster. I was trying my luck further in.”

“And you came alone?”

“None of your business.” Virgil hauled up the pack and stood. “I’m a tracker so I’m the one that usually gets sent out.”

“Oh really? Must be an expert to come out this late.”

“Sure.” Grunting, Virgil stepped over a rotting log and began pushing his way through bushes.

The man snorted. “Expert tracker- when I could hear you tromping through here from across the forest.” 

“Your words not mine. And stop following me, I’m only here to gather ingredients.”

They continued on in silence for a while, the fae following behind him near silently as he kept an eye out for anything edible. The crops had been plentiful this year but berries, nuts and mushrooms weren’t something locally grown, so gatherers routinely went into the forest to search for them to dry for the winter. Fast protein was always welcome in the harsher months when tracking fresh meat became a dangerous chore.

The forest was quiet here, nearly serene if it wasn’t for the fae still following him no matter how harsh a path he took- not that he was having much luck finding easier ones. He imagined he could easily get lost here if he wasn’t careful so he kept an eye on the direction of the shadows and any landmarks he spotted so he couldn’t get turned around. Fair folk were rarely hostile towards travelers as long as you met them on their level and stated your intentions clearly. Most of the time a certain level of sass while only answering them when they were curious served Virgil just fine. Of course, they didn’t normally follow him either but he remained unconcerned so long as the forest didn’t turn hostile. He didn’t think he’d succeeded in pissing the other off that much...hopefully.

It was some time later when Virgil found his cloak snared on a branch as he was struggling to get over a particularly high log. Crawling under it hadn’t been an option so now he was stuck straddling the thing awkwardly with the cloak snagging in one direction and his pants in the other. Blowing out a frustrated breath he startled as the fae appeared a foot from his face, brown eyes searching his green ones as he struggled not to fall backwards for a second time.

“What are you tracking anyway?”

“What?” 

“You’re a tracker, so what are you tracking?”

Virgil resumed trying to lift himself enough to get his other leg over without ripping his pants. “Nothing at the moment. Not that, again, it’s any of your business.”

The fae glanced at the dirt under his nails and hummed thoughtfully. “Mushrooms is it?”

Groaning, Virgil sat back down and instead reached behind him to try and tug his cloak free. “Partly.”

Trying and failing to get his cloak untangled he stumbled as his feet found solid ground after dangling for the better part of ten minutes, nearly overbalancing for the third time that day as the fabric went limp in his stranglehold. Looking up he saw the spot on the river bank he had climbed over not ten minutes before with a significantly lighter pack. Confused, he slung it around and peeked inside only to see it nearly overflowing with varieties of mushrooms he had never seen mixed with the more common ones he had found before. Opening his mouth to speak he quickly shut it as a light breeze carried faint laughter through the trees.

“Feel free to thank me later.” A faint voice called.

Looking down again, he carefully closed the pack and looked up at the sky. It was barely encroaching late afternoon...would anyone believe he had gathered these that quickly? Deciding to just say he had gotten turned around and found a good spot if anyone asked he started hiking his way back as slowly as he could. He’d have to find something to offer as thanks when he came back.

-----

“You’re back.”

Virgil shuffled around a low shrub between the trees awkwardly. “Mhm.”

“Do you need more mushrooms?” The fae crouched on a low branch, balancing on his tip toes as he watched Virgil struggle through the underbrush. 

“They asked me to come back- ow!” Stumbling away from the bush he knelt down to tear away some thorns sticking out of his pants. “Since I was so successful yesterday they asked me to come back to find more. Among other things.”

“They?”

“People from the kitchens.” He started off in a slightly different direction, seeing sunlight a little ways away and hoping for a clearing.

“What else do you need?”

“A variety of things to dry for the winter. Nothing to concern yourself with. I won’t invade your forest for too long.”

“A shame. My forest is beautiful but I’ve found I enjoy looking at you more.”

Virgil stopped in his tracks as he tried to process the comment. Was this a trick? Some weird fae flirting technique to get his guard down so he gave away his soul? Which reminded him-

“Not because of that comment, but for helping me the other day.” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a smooth skipping stone, the surface a perfect, uniform pale gray. He knew fairies rarely had use for human materials but things like this could be enchanted or used for entertainment- the more pleasing to the eye the better. “Here. And...thank you.”

The man’s eyes lit up at the sight of the stone, taking it carefully and running his fingers gently over the smooth surface. “For me?”

“Don’t expect it again, I don’t expect anything more from you.” Hoping that would settle it, Virgil continued on in the direction of the clearing. Fae were always tricky to get involved with and with the fall harvests approaching, continuing to speak with one claiming to be a prince wasn’t something he would allow himself to get involved with- at most for the sake of the village and at the very least for his own sanity.

“A pity really.” The fae called from behind him. “I could help you find whatever you need.”

Gritting his teeth, Virgil resisted. “I don’t need any help.”

“Right, expert tracker and all that.” He startled as his pest of a companion appeared in front of him waving a hand dismissively. “This is my forest and I can bend it however it suits me at the moment. Right now it suits me to help you, why won’t you let me?”

“I don’t want to owe you anything. Owing things is a risky business- especially with fae. No offense.”

The fae sniffed indignantly, putting a hand  dramatically over his heart. “No offense indeed! I suppose this wound was here before you arrived, it’s fine really.”

Virgil glanced over as the other man draped a hand over his eyes and leaned back slightly, sighing loud and deliberate and trying to disguise the fact he was peeking at his human companion from under his arm. Virgil couldn’t help it- he barked out a laugh he managed to quickly catch with a hand slapped over his mouth. Watching as a wide grin took over the fae’s features he realized he was too late and the damage had been done. He stalked over and jabbed the air in front of Virgil with a perfectly manicured finger. 

“You like my company!”

Blinking, Virgil lowered his hand. “Absolutely not!”

“You do! You find me amusing! Dare I say charming!”

Snorting, Virgil readjusted his pack. “Uh-huh. Nothing like a raving lunatic spouting he’s royalty to get the giggle juice flowing.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe fae will say anything to strike whatever emotion they want in a human. Whether it be fear or awe, the end goal is always to lead someone astray.”

Glancing over he startled when he saw the other man actually looked a bit hurt at his words, head down and eyes flicking to the side with a tight draw to the lips. A trick...obviously. But one that had him reconsidering his choice of words.

“Look I-”

The fae held up a hand. “It’s okay! I’ll prove it to you! You need mushrooms and berries and the like right?”

“Uh- yeah?” Virgil watched as the fae stepped forward and furrowed his brow in concentration. Bringing his arms up towards the clearing he swung his arms out and up before slouching tiredly. 

Virgil squinted against the sunlight shining overhead, looking around in wonder. They were in a large clearing absolutely teeming with enough plantlife to fill his pack ten times over. Dappled shade dominated at least half of the clearing as the sun shone through the bright trees at an angle. Soft grass soothed his aching feet that had previously been treading on nothing but snapping sticks and long-dead leaves. It was beautiful- and  glancing over at his companion as bright gold shot through his hair and the sudden calming warmth relaxed him- Virgil could tell he was in his element. 

“Did you just use magic in front of me?” He honestly hadn’t thought the fae would go that far to prove a point.

“Watch regular fair folk top that for ability.” the fae mumbled under his breath. Speaking up, he flashed a bright smile and punched a hand lightly onto his hip. “Of course! Got the point across didn’t it? Never seen a fairy bend a forest before?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen a fairy perform any magic before. Usually they keep that to themselves. Honestly none of the good neighbors have paid me any mind before whether I was in their territory or not.”

“Oh.” The fae sputtered uselessly for a moment, fluttering his head to his hair to fidget with the curls. “Well, clearly that’s their loss. Berries, was it?”

Face burning, Virgil nodded mutely and made his way over to a far tree that looked like it promised chestnuts in the higher branches. He never figured having company, however forced upon him it was, would be so nice. 

Later, when Virgil’s pack was practically bursting at the seams, he reluctantly turned towards home. The afternoon had been wonderful, gathering enough to make the people in the village happy while listening to the other man as he sang almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it. Rich, low tones filled the clearing with a bright melody that Virgil didn't recognize but found himself humming along to- much to his companions utter delight. 

It had surprised him when he began singing popular festival songs after that, thinking that fair folk never bothered much with humans and therefore wouldn’t know many traditional tunes. But when Virgil had started softly singing along, offering a wry grin when the other man had started excitedly bouncing on his toes from having a singing partner he couldn’t bring himself to care. Eventually both of them had started getting louder and louder, swaying along to an invisible beat as they had continued collecting what was needed. Another reason Virgil was reluctant to return to the village for fear their noise had reached ears he’d rather not explain himself to. He found it strange that he felt drawn to stay, stranger still that he didn’t immediately think it was some trick on his companions' part. He just- enjoyed his company and wished he could come into the forest to actually visit rather than just his job. Pressing his lips together he turned around, smiling faintly and gesturing to his back.

“You really didn’t have to help, or keep helping. But thank you again-”

“Roman!” The fairy blurted at his slight pause.

Smirking, Virgil cocked his head to one side. “Aren’t I supposed to give you my name first?”

Roman shuffled slightly. “Yes well, seems a shame that if you were to think of me you’d have no name to give the thoughts.”

“Bold of you to assume I think of you after leaving the woods.”

“How could you not?” Striking a bold pose he sniffed indignantly. “It’d be an insult really, wounding me so deeply.”

Chuckling Virgil turned and started walking away. “I’ll be sure to bring bandages next time.”

“It’s a date, Doom and Gloom!”

“That a promise, Sir Sing-a-lot?”

“If my serenades are what brings you back I shall renounce my princehood and become a siren.”

“Your voice is certainly deadly enough, leads to something prettier though.” 

The forest was silent for a moment, before Virgil began walking as quickly as possible without stabbing his feet to the edge of the woods. Why had he said that? Did he mean that? Of course he meant it but why on the gods green earth had he said it? Could he even come back now? Chest tight with nervous anxiety and head swimming he didn't look back as he dashed out of the trees.

Though if he had he would have seen Roman standing stock still, face a mask of shock but slowly splitting into a flustered smile below rapidly reddening cheeks.

-----

When Virgil stepped into the creek the following day, it was without his pack. Early evening sunlight drifted through the trees as a slight breeze ruffled the cloak around his shoulders. Pushing his dark hair away from his eyes he surveyed the banks for any sign of Roman, deflating a bit when he saw none. It was stupid to think he could get away with saying something so forthright without reaping anything but negative consequences. It was just as well he supposed, consorting with fair folk never led to anything good after all. He had just- hoped this would be different.

Fair folk and humans rarely mixed well, platonic or not, and once he found his soulmate he was doubtful they would enjoy the thought of fraternizing so casually with one of the good neighbors- especially one as powerful as Roman appeared to be. If he knew anything of the fae it was that one didn't just casually bend an entire forest to their will with so little effort by themselves. Sighing, he turned to leave, feet missing the wispy grass of the clearing as they crunched through dead leaves.

“Going so soon?” Whirling around he was met with a charming smile, Roman balancing on a rock in the middle of the creek with a hip thrust out cockily.

“I thought- I didn’t think you’d come back around.”

“If you were trying to get me to leave, your methods are wanting my friend.” Roman squinted at him curiously. “No pack today?”

Virgil shuffled a bit before answering. “I- just wanted to see you.”

Blinking in surprise, Roman smiled warmly. “What an honor it is that our wants should align. Care to join me?”

Face burning, Virgil was quick to hop to the first rock, finding his balance easily. Keeping his head down he stepped from rock to slippery rock, finally getting close to where he assumed Roman would be. Looking up however, he didn’t expect to be quite as close as he had gotten, vision suddenly filled with deep brown eyes surrounded by flaming red curls. Yelping he tipped backwards, arms reaching forward in a desperate attempt to not repeat their first meeting even as he prepared to go home soaking once again.

To his surprise, the riverbed never rose to meet him, instead finding himself surrounded by the scent of wildflowers and moss in the most comforting embrace he’d ever been in. Virgil tilted his face up when he heard Roman gasp in wonder, his own eyes widening in disbelief as he leaned back to take in their surroundings. Colorful sparks seemed to catch the evening sunset as they bounced off and around them, falling like stars imbued with the colors of the sky and sizzling as they hit the water only to be immediately replaced by ten more. 

Leaning back but still catching each other’s arms they watched as the sparks continued to fly around them in a frenzied shower, dimming the already fading sun itself in their wake. Virgil watched as the light caught itself in Roman’s eyes, flecking the brown with golds and brilliant reds and deep purples. Seeing his face literally light up in amazement and wonder, Virgil couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, then tilting his head back and laughing out loud.

“What- why are you laughing?” Receiving no answer, Roman grinned uncertainly. “Do I have something on my face?”

Shaking his head, Virgil stifled another bout of laughter to answer. “I’ve never seen the sparks of soulmates before. Are they supposed to be this dramatic or is it just because of you?”

Smile turning more genuine and laughing himself, Roman let go of his arms and instead wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted, twirling them around with a sure step even as the water splashed around his feet. Setting him down gently, he rested his forehead against Virgil and held him as close as he could. 

“Maybe both- knowing me, probably more of the latter. Do you really mind?”

The sparks were dying down as the sky darkened and yet to Virgil his companion still stood bright enough that he feared nothing the darkness could threaten him with. Leaning impossibly closer he touched Roman’s nose to his  own and smiled softly.

“Absolutely not.”

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[justnerdthings]

New Beginnings Ch. 15

F!Reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao

Bit of a timeskip here. Also this chapter contains nsfw!

I know at least one reader is going to want to shank me after reading this. It's okay. I promise I'll make it up to you.

@ancientowlgirl @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @shang-hung

Weeks had passed. You were in full training mode. You had learned the layout of the temple. You were much more familiar with the customs of the monks. You were comfortable.

Well, almost.

Your muscles were sore from training. Lao and Liu had put you on a fast track. The tournament was still five years away, but you had so much to catch up on. As for the boys…

You had put a wall up. They’d both been pinning for you. Of course you knew they would be. Ever since that kiss with Liu… Ever since Lao admitted his feelings for you… It had been one wild ride after the other. But you had made it clear to both of them: You were not ready for any relationships.

God, you hated telling them that. What were you thinking? They were both incredible choices. You’d never have options like them back home. Were you crazy for telling them both to back off? Probably. But did it help you adjust to temple life? Absolutely. You had enough to worry about around here. A relationship with one of them would have been nice, but the rivalry between them would have destroyed them. You couldn’t risk that.

Raiden had commended your approach to this issue. He’d been pleasantly surprised by your restraint. He’d even offered to help. You still had no idea how Raiden could help, but the offer was nice. You’d opted for ol’ faithful: staying so busy that you didn’t have time to think about relationships.

Of course at night that didn’t work. You’d spent nights staring at the ceiling, or tossing and turning, being drowned in loads of inappropriate thoughts. And of course, you’d taken it upon yourself to relieve some of that tension. Other nights, you thought about what life would be like with one or the other. You’d gotten to know them both so well over the past few weeks that you had pretty clear visions of what relationships would be like with them.

You weren’t sure you could choose between those two visions. But, it didn’t matter. You had no time for that. Five years. You had five years to turn into a lean, mean, killing machine!

A nudge to your shoulder brought you out of your thoughts. Looking up, Lao was watching you with concern. He stopped you in the hallway.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just lost in thought.” You yawned then and stretched your arms out over your head.

“What are you thinking about?” Lao asked curiously and followed along with you as you began walking again.

“You. Liu.” You shrugged. You didn’t see the point in hiding these thoughts anymore. They both knew how you felt. They both knew how each other felt.

Lao lifted a brow. “Yeah? What about us?”

“Just… kicking myself for telling you both to back off,” you sighed.

He seemed to perk up then. “Yeah?”

“I feel like an idiot. But I know it’s the right choice.”

“How do you know?”

“What do you mean, how do I know? I got five years to turn into you and Liu. I can’t be distracted. I need to buckle down. I have to stay focused.”

He sighed. “If we die in the tournament, then we won’t get the chance later,” he reasoned. And you’d thought of that. He was right. If you died in the tournament, and let’s be honest, which was highly likely, you wouldn’t get the chance to choose later. But if you did choose now, then you would mostly likely be too distracted to keep up your training. The tournament would come. You wouldn’t be ready. You’d be killed… But at least you’d have loved. Right?

You sucked in a breath. This sucked. All of it sucked.

Lao noticed that familiar look of conflict on your face. He frowned at you. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself, Y/N.”

“I can do that after the tournament.” God that was an awful excuse. You weren’t even going to survive the tournament. How could you enjoy yourself afterward?

He sighed. Did he think you telling him and Liu to back off was stupid? No. He’d admit you had very valid points. But he wasn’t a fan of how you were handling yourself. Before, you could relax and enjoy yourself, even if you did throw yourself into panic attacks. But now… This ‘buckle down’ attitude you had adopted… Both Lao and Liu had watched you busy yourself to exhaustion every night. He hated that.

“I need you two to keep pushing me,” you told him. You’d told them both this plenty of times over the past few weeks. Keep you busy. Keep you distracted. Make you stronger. Whatever it took.

Ordinarily Lao would be happy to keep pushing a student… But you weren’t just a student anymore. You were the woman he had eyes for. The woman Liu had eyes for. And even though they’d both been told to keep a level of distance, they both hated it.

He hated it.

And over the past few weeks, Lao had noticed a change in you. Liu chalked it up to you finally being free of your medication and withdrawal. That this was the real you. That this overly focused, morbid, husk of yourself was the real you. And not only did that medication keep you from panicking everyday, but that it made you happy.

Liu had done some research on the medication you were on. Sertraline, he’d said it was. Not only was it for anxiety. But it was for depression as well.

Was that what they were witnessing? Depression? This didn’t seem like any depression Lao had seen before. Depression was supposed to be sadness, wasn’t it? Moping around? Hating yourself? Maybe even suicidal? You didn’t seem sad… But you weren’t very happy either. You weren’t suicidal that he could tell. Maybe you brooded, but he wouldn’t say you moped. And hating yourself?... Yeah, he’d seen that when you grew frustrated. You’d talk down to yourself. You’d cuss yourself out… Was this what depression really looked like?

He hated it.

Stopping at your door, Lao offered you a smile, which you returned, but Lao could see that it was forced. He hated that too: That forced smile you always gave him and Liu now. But it was a battle he didn’t want to fight. He’d continue to let it go.

You stepped into your room and left the door open. He’d hesitated before following you in. Your room was a mess. Clothes everywhere. Cups and plates left all over. You didn’t seem to mind it, but it annoyed him. It’d grown worse and worse over the weeks. He watched as you kicked aside some clothes carelessly, then you suddenly froze.

His brows knotted as you stood so rigid. He followed your fixed gaze. His own body stiffened.

Now, Lao wasn’t an easy man to frighten. Some had even claimed he was fearless. He could slice and dice his way through hordes of enemies. He could reach through someone’s chest and tear out their still beating heart. He laughed in the face of danger. But one fear he had never managed to conquer… was what he was looking at right then.

Without a word, he slowly backed out of your room. You didn’t notice until you backed up and reached behind yourself for him, only to grasp air. Turning, he was gone. Your brows knotted. He was just there. He was just there. Where did he—

You noticed him peek around your doorway cautiously. Confusion was practically dripping from your features. “Is it dead yet?” He asked. For the first time that you could recall. Lao’s voice had shaken.

Oh. Great. He was afraid of it, too. Him. A killer like him. Great.

You looked back to the source of both of your fears. Your heart skipped several beats. It was gone. Where did it go?! You looked around frantically. Where did it go?! Where did it go?! You weren’t going to sleep in your room until you found it! You weren’t going to sleep here at all unless you saw it leave, or it dead! Preferably dead! It and its whole family! Dead!

Movement caught the corner of your eye and you screeched and swatted at your shoulder. You ran out of your room, flailing, beating yourself, hyperventilating. “Get it off! Get it off!” You shouted. But Lao was backing away with fearful eyes.

“You get it off!” he shouted back.

He wasn’t going to help you?! You were freaking out! You shook your gi out and swatted yourself all over as Lao watched on at a distance.

You stopped as Liu came over, face full of concern. He must have heard your shouting.

“What is going on?” He asked, looking you over, looking for whatever you were trying to rid yourself of. He didn’t see anything. You realised, by his complete confusion, that you were fine. It wasn’t on you. You breathed a sigh of relief, then joined Lao in peeking back into your room.

Liu’s brows were about as knotted as they could get as he stepped in the doorway and looked in.

“It’s still in there,” Lao said.

“What is?” Liu asked.

“That eight legged bastard,” You answered.

Liu let that sink in for a second before he turned his head to you and Lao. A spider? All this over a spider? He knew Lao didn’t like them. He knew you didn’t like them. But both of you scared of them? He almost laughed at the two of you. “It’s just a spider,” he reasoned. Honestly, what was the worse it could do?

“Don’t say it’s name!” You hissed at him. “You’ll anger it!”

Liu couldn’t help that chuckle. He shook his head and stepped into the room, ignoring the mess for the moment.

“No, don’t!” You called after him.

“It’s just a spider,” Liu said again, grinning as he looked around your room. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know,” you answered. “It was on the ceiling. Then I thought it was on my shoulder.”

Liu looked up at the ceiling, but he couldn’t see any spider. His eyes looked over the walls, the corners, the floor. He even pulled your sheets back to see if it had crawled into your bed. Nothing. He couldn’t find that spider. “I don’t see it,” he finally said with a sigh.

“I do,” Lao said. His voice was distant. You turned to look at him. He was down the hall several paces. He lifted his hand and pointed at you. You felt the icy chill of anxiety wash over you. “It’s on your back,” Lao said.

Your body tensed up. You were shaking. A whine left you.

“Hold still,” Liu said behind you. You had fought against every fiber of instinct to beat yourself again. You stood rigid as Liu’s hands came to your back. You held your breath. When you felt his hands leave you, you sucked in a shaking breath. “Is it gone?”

Liu came around you. He showed you the spider in his hands.

Oh, fuck that. You backed away frantically and tried to hide behind Lao, but Lao was trying to hide behind you as well.

Liu watched you two with such amusement. He chuckled and shook his head again. “I’ll go release it elsewhere,” he told you both before walking away.

Once Liu and that eight legged bastard were far enough away, you shuddered the rest of your nerves off. Lao was watching you. He grinned sheepishly.

You shoved at him as anger came over your face. “YOU ASSHOLE!”

“What?” Lao said, lifting his hands defensively.

“Some friend you are!”

“I don’t like spiders!” He shouted back.

“Neither do I!” You screamed.

“I would have helped you!” He shouted with hesitation. Lying.

“‘You get it off!’” You repeated his words, mocking him.

“I thought you could!”

“Fucking asshole!”

“Hey!” His brows knit in anger. “If you had kept your room clean, then the spider wouldn’t have been there in the first place!” He accused you. “Ever since you told Liu and I to back off, you’ve been miserable!” He shouted.

“I’m trying to focus on the tournament!” You defended yourself.

“Stop pretending this is all about the tournament!”

“It is all about the tournament!”

“No, it’s not! It’s about us! Me and Liu!”

Your face was turning red in anger. You hated him. You hated him so much. You hated him because he was right. You were so flustered. So frustrated. It was about them. You couldn’t bring yourself to choose, so you threw up a wall to keep them out. You hated it! But it was working!

“I’m right, aren’t I?!” Lao shouted.

You were glaring daggers at him. “Fuck you,” you hissed at him.

“I am, huh?!”

“Fuck. You!”

“Fuck me yourself, coward!” Lao shouted, his own frustration was getting the best of him. And you could see he was just as surprised by his own words as you were.

You two stared at each other. You were daring each other to make the first move. Like hell would you make the first move.

And you didn’t. In a few short moments, Lao came to you. He grabbed hold of your face with firm, yet gentle hands, and pulled you right into a hot and rough kiss.

You went rigid again as your lips connected. Every bit of you was screaming to push him away. But your body wouldn’t move. You couldn’t even breathe. Your head was flooding with hormones that had been denied the past weeks. The angels on your shoulders were arguing. And just as quick as it had happened, Lao had pulled away.

You stared at each other in silence again. Your eyes were locked on each other’s. Your chest was heaving now with shallow breaths. Your heart was pounding so hard that you could hear it.

But that kiss… You could groan. You’d wondered what kissing him would be like. You knew what kissing Liu was like. You wanted to know what kissing Lao was like. It wasn’t at all the same, but the situation was vastly different. With Liu you had been scared and curious… Then later on it was like fireworks as you both grew comfortable. But with Lao… It was out of nowhere and you were both frustrated and angry. The kiss was short and rough… And you wanted more.

You shifted your weight. Reaching up, you grabbed his stupid hat off his head and dropped it to the floor very unceremoniously. You then pulled him back into a kiss. It was sloppy and hard. It was full of spiteful passion. And as Lao backed you against the wall, it grew hungry.

Lao pressed himself against you, pinning you against the stone wall as his hands gripped your waist. You could feel his own heart pounding against your chest. Your fingers curled into his hair. You tugged. His top knot came loose, but neither of you cared. He growled into your lips and the sound almost made you submit your entire self to him. You pushed your hips into his, earning another gruff sound from him. You tried to push him back, but he simply shoved you back against the wall. You grunted and broke the kiss to look up towards the ceiling.

Lao’s lips moved down your jaw and to your neck. You couldn’t help the little moan that escaped you. He’d shifted. His hands moved down your backside. They lingered on your ass for a few seconds before they moved lower, then gripped the back of your thighs. In one smooth motion, he’d lifted you off the floor and wrapped your legs around his waist. Oh, shit, was that hot. You tugged at his hair, pulling his head up so you could kiss him again. This was a mistake. This was a horrendous, lovely mistake.

Lao pulled you from the wall and carried you into your room. He’d managed to kick the door shut behind him without breaking your kiss. You blindly reached behind him for the door, searching for the lock. Once you felt it, you yanked it to latch. Lao heard the harsh clash of the iron lock and carried you further in, to your bed, and dropped you onto the mattress.

You stared up at him with wide eyes. You were catching your breath as you watched him begin to remove his clothes. Your heart was skipping all kinds of beats as you finally realised the situation at hand. You had to stop. You had to stop right now. This wasn’t right. You couldn’t do this. You had to stop right now. But as Lao removed his top and revealed those well chiseled abs, your mind went blank. Ah, shit.

He climbed over you with a famished look in his eyes. Lao was starved. He’d been fighting his feelings for weeks, just like you. And also like you, he was tired of it. It was distracting. You’d been lying to yourself. You’d been telling yourself you didn’t need this. Didn’t need him. Didn’t need Liu. Not like this. You’d been telling yourself they were just teammates… What a load of bullshit. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lowered himself for another kiss.

You couldn’t choose between them. And you were sure that if it had been Liu who had grabbed you and pulled you into a kiss just minutes ago, that he’d be the one laying over you right then instead of Lao. But Liu wouldn’t have pulled you into that kiss. When you’d told him and Lao that you didn’t want a relationship weeks ago, he didn’t protest. He backed off. He gave you space. Liu always respected your boundaries. But Lao always pushed them.

Lao let a hand roam down your side. His fingers slipped under your belt. He simply pulled it free. He pulled open your gi. He was starting to undress you like an impatient child unwrapping their present on Christmas morning. You rolled your body against his. His hand dragged along your bare stomach. Goosebumps plagued your body at his touch. You could feel his excitement as he grinded it against you.

You groaned into the kiss. He grinned against your lips. You tangled your hand into his hair again and pulled his head away so you could catch your breath. He gladly went to kissing and sucking on your neck as he moved his hand up… up… and he grabbed a handful of your breast still confined in your bra. You moaned and rolled your hips against him.

There was a knock at your door.

Both you and Lao froze, staring at each other, barely breathing. Maybe if you were both quiet, whoever it was would think you weren’t there.

Another knock, and Liu’s voice called from behind the door. “Y/N?”

You sighed. Dammit, Liu. This was not the right time. Lao was giving you a look and shaking his head. He wanted you to ignore Liu, and to encourage you, he began to trail some soft kisses along your throat. You tilted your head back and sighed contently, letting your eyes close. But as Lao nipped your skin, a cry escaped you.

“Y/N?” Liu’s tone was full of concern. “Are you alright?” He must have heard you. Dammit.

Lao hid his face in the crook of your neck. His frustration was only growing now. You stroked the back of his head gently, silently reassuring him before you squirmed out from under him. You grabbed your belt from the floor and quickly tied your gi closed. You ran your fingers through your hair. Then you unlocked your door and opened it only a few small inches--just enough to peek out, but not enough for Liu to see past you.

You caught his warm brown eyes and that gentle smile came to his face. “Y/N,” he greeted, despite seeing you only a little while ago.

You returned his smile, again it was forced, but now for a different reason than simply wanting to distance yourself from him. “Liu.”

“I released the spider on the north end. I figured that would be far enough away,” he told you. You felt your nerves fire up. You’d forgotten all about that spider. You could have gone the rest of your life not remembering that spider. But you were thankful Liu had told you where he left it. Now you knew where to look out for the little bastard. Luckily, you didn’t spend much time in the north end of the temple.

“Thank you,” you breathed, then nodded.

“Are you alright?” His voice was full of concern again. “I thought I heard you crying?”

“No. I mean, yes. I’m fine.” You shook your head. “Just still a little shaken, I guess.”

His eyes scanned over your face, taking in every detail not blocked by the door. And you noticed how his eyes lingered on your lips. He’d done that so much since you’d both had your first kiss with each other. And you wouldn’t lie, you’d found yourself doing it as well. You noticed his breath hitch slightly as you bit your bottom lip gently. You were thinking about kissing him again. About feeling his hot lips engulfing yours.

Rustling from behind you reminded you that you’d already had a pair of lips to kiss--ones that were just all over you a second ago. Dammit. This is why you put up that damn wall. You let your forehead fall into the door frame and sighed at your own dumbassery.

“Are you alright?” Liu asked again, stepping closer.

You nodded and looked at him out the corner of your eye. Dammit, he was so cute looking at you like that. “Can we talk later?” you asked him. “I’m just exhausted right now.”

He smiled again. He bowed his head. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” You smiled back to him and stepped away from the door to close it. After a few seconds, when you thought Liu was out of earshot, you hissed curses under your breath. You turned and leaned back against your door, covering your face. This was a complete disaster.

“Hey…” Lao called over cautiously. You could hear him climb off your bed and step towards you. You let yourself slide down your door. When you pulled your hands away from your face, Lao frowned at the sight of you. He knelt down in front of you and reached out to hold either side of your face. His thumbs wiped at your tears.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you’d finally admitted as you began breaking down. Lao’s eyes were desperately searching yours, but it was a futile effort. There wasn’t anything else to see. You weren’t hiding anymore.

“It’s okay,” he told you gently.

You shook your head as the tears flowed freely down your face. “No it’s not,” you sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I don’t want to.”

His jaw hardened. Lao didn’t know what to say. That was the one thing he didn’t want to hear. That was the one thing Liu was worried you’d say in the beginning. And you were saying it now because of them. Dammit.

He shifted to his knees and closer to you. His grip on your face tightened only slightly as he looked at you with such guilt you’d never seen. “Don’t go,” he said--he begged. “I’ll back off. I promise. I’ll even tell Liu to keep his distance.”

You were shaking your head again. “It’s not going to work. This is just going to happen again.”

“You can’t leave…”

“Is there anyone else who can train me?”

“Y/N…”

“Any women? Warrior nuns?”

Lao’s frown deepened. “Please…”

You pulled your head from his hands. “I want to be alone,” you told him as you wiped your face with your hands.

Lao looked so defeated in that moment. He didn’t know what to do. His brows knotted as grief washed over him. Why did he have to kiss you? If he’d just walked away, you wouldn’t be wanting to leave. Why did he have to screw this up? Why did Liu have to come back?! He was clenching his teeth as he stood and grabbed his top from the floor. He slipped into it as you got to your feet and retreated into your little bathroom. Lao opened your door and stepped out. He closed the door behind him. He turned to walk away.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Liu was leaning against the opposite wall, staring at him with a knowing look. Lao stiffened.

“How?...” Lao began, but didn’t get to finish before Liu pointed to the floor. Lao followed the gesture and there it was: his hat, still laying carelessly on the floor where you had dropped it. Dammit. He sighed and reached out, summoning it back into his hand.

But how much did Liu know? Did he just assume what had happened in your room, or had he heard your crying just on the other side of the door?

“I think we need to talk,” Liu told him, and the tone Liu had used told Lao that Liu had heard the crying. That wasn’t the ‘I’m disappointed in you, Kung Lao’ tone. Nor was it the tone Liu used when he was angry with Lao. It was the bad news tone. It was the ‘we fucked up’ tone. It was the tone he had when they needed to admit something to Raiden.

Lao had sucked in a deep breath. He nodded to his brother.

[red-talisman]

An unbetaed snippet of post-CQL canon Yunmeng reconciliation, which is mostly extremely morbid and blunt conversation after beating each other hard enough that they’re too tired for their usual conflicting modes of emotional avoidance.

EDIT: now edited and posted on AO3. :D

CW for past suicidal ideation. Part of my “let WWX express some of his cynical humor and creepiness more often” and “let WWX find out about JC’s own sacrifice goddamnit” agendas.

___________________

Jiang Cheng stares blankly into the trees, their trunks slowly disappearing in the deepening darkness of twilight. Wei Wuxian’s back is warm against his and heaving for breath just as heavily. He thinks his ankle might be broken, but Wei Wuxian is probably worse off.

“You’re an asshole,” Wei Wuxian says thickly.

“Hypocrite,” Jiang Cheng mutters without heat, and Wei Wuxian manages a snort between his gasps.

“Yeah.” After a moment, he adds, with an echo of the old Yiling Laozu in his voice, “You know that if you ever do something like that again, I’ll probably find a way to do something worse than I did before.”

“If I do what, save your life by pulling the same fucking sacrificial shit that you do?”

“I swear to every god out there that I will bring you back as a fierce corpse and kill you myself,” Wei Wuxian says in a pleasant, albeit still somewhat breathless, tone. “I will dismember your carcass and make Jin Guangyao look like a fucking amateur.”

“Good thing Mo Xuanyu’s core isn’t worth shit, then,” Jiang Cheng replies. All of his attention is focused on the feeling of his brother’s bones and muscles moving against his own spine.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause. Somewhere distant Jiang Cheng hears the panicked yells of what’s probably the juniors they left behind a few li back. Then Wei Wuxian sighs. “We’re really fucked up.”

Jiang Cheng takes his time considering and discarding several possible responses. His ankle hurts like a bitch; Mo Xuanyu’s core may not be worth shit, but damn if his asshole genius brother hasn’t figured out how to make the most of it anyway. He finally settles on a tired, “Yeah.”

The silence stretches on long enough that Wei Wuxian goes on, more quietly, “You and Shijie are the only reason I didn’t die in the Burial Mounds. The Wens grabbed me before I knew whether or not you’d even survived the core transfer.”

Jiang Cheng tilts his head just enough to glance briefly over his shoulder. “How did you survive the Burial Mounds?”

“Nope, no, I’m not putting that on you. Not even Lan Zhan knows. I can’t...I can’t do that.”

“Fine. Then tell me, is any of it going to come back and bite us in the ass at the worst possible moment?” he asks dryly.

Wei Wuxian snorts, humorless. “Nah. It’s all mine.”

“Would you tell me if it wasn’t?”

When Wei Wuxian hesitates for a few telling seconds, Jiang Cheng mutters, “You fucking asshole.”

“Yeah.” Wei Wuxian sighs again.

“You left me.”

“You didn’t need me.”

“Who the fuck said that?”

The knobs of Wei Wuxian’s spine are starting to press painfully into Jiang Cheng’s. Wei Wuxian snorts. “I was practically a fierce corpse myself when I dragged myself out of the Burial Mounds. Your position as sect leader was too precarious,” he says bluntly. “You were seventeen years old with no real family, a sister who was getting married off anyway, and an adopted brother who’d been controversial years before the war even happened and who was clearly half-mad and getting worse. And I...my mind never really left the Mounds, honestly.” He coughs, makes a wet sound, and spits. “If I stayed much longer I was going to end up dragging you back into Hell with me. I was a risk you couldn’t afford and I wasn’t going to destroy Yunmeng Jiang a second time.”

"Don’t pull that bullshit, Wei Wuxian.” Jiang Cheng is so, so tired. “Mother was wrong. You know Wen Chao was looking for any excuse. You’re as responsible for that as our shidi was for using a round kite.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t respond. Jiang Cheng makes a mental note to beat that nonsense out of him in the future, when he can lift his arms again and his ankle isn’t most likely broken.

But Jiang Cheng remembers what it was like to try turning weapons, human and sword alike, into tools of peace. There are still whole weeks of the Sunshot Campaign that are just smears of sense-memory: the cacophony of screams and curses; the reek of mass funeral pyres and the soft ash drifting through the air like black, silent snow; the startling warmth of being suddenly drenched in blood after Sandu sliced open another living human. Half the time he’d come back to himself laughing hysterically, unable to see anything through the tears on his face, and as the war dragged on, the tears eventually dried up. It had taken months afterwards to settle into the mindset of rebuilding for Lotus Pier. (If he’s honest with himself, he never really did settle there. There's always a part of him still dragging itself through mud made by blood spilled on battlefields and churned up by soldiers' boots.)

“Jin Ling’s the only reason I never actually killed myself after you died,” Jiang Cheng says. “...Don’t you ever tell him that.”

“Wait, what?” Wei Wuxian snaps.

“You saying I would’ve died without a core - it was never about not having a core, you idiot, not really.” Not to say that hadn’t hurt, and Jiang Cheng really doesn’t know how he would’ve managed life as a commoner. But there were still worse things to lose than a core, which had also just lost and was about to lose yet again. “I had a few ideas on how to do it, depending on where I was and what was available when I decided I might as well get it over with.” He huffs a brief laugh and idly rubs his thumb over Sandu’s hilt. “I thought poison might be a good option, if a little heavy-handed on the metaphor.”

“I’d be laughing,” Wei Wuxian says flatly, “if you weren’t talking about killing my little brother.”

“Am I?”

“You never stopped.”

The silhouettes of the trees start to blur in Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “You left. You left, and everyone died, and somehow I was responsible for keeping our sister’s baby alive while the wolves tried to eat what remained of our sect from every direction. You left.”

“I never wanted to.”

“But you did.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe.”

“Because you chose strangers over family.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe,” Wei Wuxian hisses. Apparently they’re not so exhausted that they can’t get pissed after all. “I was hardly human anymore, Jiang Cheng. If I was going to die, then at least I’d die actually managing to save innocent people this time around and you would be safe from me.”

“I never wanted you to do that for me!”

“And I never wanted you to do that for me!”

The tension that had them both struggling to sit up straight suddenly breaks, and their backs collide again. Jiang Cheng grits his teeth against the urge to groan over the pain that ricochets through his chest and down his limbs. He hears a muffled yelp from behind him.

“You’re a damned fucking asshole and you’re my fucking brother and I hate you and don’t you ever assume you know what I need again, do you understand me,” snarls Jiang Cheng.

“You’re the damned fucking asshole and if you ever do that again then I will brand a reminder into your flesh right over the scar from the discipline whip,” Wei Wuxian snaps back, because he's never held back from fighting dirty if he thought it necessary.

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

They both stare into the dark forest, in opposite directions. It sounds like the juniors have finally picked up their tracks. Useless, the whole lot - Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian hadn't exactly been subtle in stepping aside for a private conversation that inevitably escalated, how could it take the kids this long?

"Those dumbasses had better not forget that we're on a night-hunt," he says.

"Like we did?" Wei Wuxian replies.

"You started it."

"Did not."

"No, I'm not doing this with you."

"Hey, you started this one."

"Shut the fuck up."

They fall silent again. A cold breeze picks up and Jiang Cheng feels Wei Wuxian shiver, pressing back just a little more firmly against Jiang Cheng for warmth, and he...leans back too. Just a little.

"I'm still fucking pissed at you," says Wei Wuxian.

"And I've got years' worth to pay you back for," says Jiang Cheng.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Sect Leader Jiang!" they hear. "Senior Wei!"

"If you don't show up for the mid-autumn festival," Jiang Cheng suddenly says, "I'll come drag you out of the Cloud Recesses by the heels."

"But the dogs - "

"Don't be an idiot. Jin Ling's dog is the only one allowed in Lotus Pier, you know that."

Well, come to think of it, Wei Wuxian probably doesn't know that, but whatever, now he does. Wei Wuxian is terrifyingly silent, but before Jiang Cheng can say something that will inevitably bring them back to throwing fists, he hears a quiet, "Yeah, okay."

"Do you think they killed each other?" they hear Lan Jingyi asking loudly. "I mean, Sandu Shengshou versus the Yiling Patriarch - who would win?"

"Don't be an idiot," retorts Jin Ling, and Wei Wuxian's body briefly shakes with a laugh. "My uncle, obviously."

"They're both your uncle, idiot!"

Jiang Cheng just sighs and lets his head fall back against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

[kirislut]

Can I request Bakugou x reader where he's a pro hero and the reader is a civilian friend who he likes. They told him where their hidden key is if he ever needed to crash and their place was the closer option. One day he takes that offer, going in, using their shower and kitchen. They almost didn't noticed when they returned home and crashed on the couch. And then he starts doing it frequently because he likes being there and resting with them? Also happens to prevent someone breaking in too?

a/n: i always love like prohero writings, because it makes me happy seeing that class 1a made it shxksisn sorry me being soft but here ya go! also bakugou is more mature here, idk i imagine prohero bakugou more calm and cocky, still angry just able to handle it more. 

warnings: bakugou(swearing), break in

you never thought you would become friends with a pro hero, especially one that you highly admired. admired for his hard work and because he was good looking.

it all started unexpectedly, you were driving home after a long day of running errands. you looked away for a second to change the song when you heard a loud shout, causing you to step on the brakes. yet a body still collided with the front of the car, then fell onto the ground. ‘did i just run someone over? oh my god.’

you nearly busted your car door wide open to go and help whoever you had just hit, but you froze when you saw bags of spilled money on the road. “woah, trying to steal all my credit? you managed to stop them before me.”

spinning around your eyes landed on the pro hero ground zero. the. pro. hero. ground. zero. now you weren’t sure what to be shocked about, the fact you hit some apparent villain or the fact that ground zero was talking to you. yea your inner fan girl won over.

“holy shit you’re ground zero.” the hero let out a small chuckle, a cocky attitude immediately taking him over because he could tell you were at least impressed. maybe even a fan? he didn’t know that his fans could be so cute. that shocked look you wore in your face because he was talking to you? that inflated his ego, as if it couldn’t grow any bigger.

“yes i am, good job taking down that villain by the way. how did you see us?” he questioned as he moved past you, grabbing the villain by the back of the shirt and lifting them up and over his shoulder.

hearing his question made you let out a little chuckle of sheepishness. “well i actually didn’t see them coming, it was an accident....” a wave of embarrassment washed over you as the pro hero tilted his head and cocked his eyebrow at you.

“you hit them on accident?”

“basically...”

the blonde stared at you before letting out a snort, “jesus maybe you should be taken in instead.” you let out a breath of relief, worried for a moment but glad he was just joking.

after that you actually had to be questioned and such by the police, for the report, so you were able to spend a little more time with the pro hero. it was nice, playful banter with maybe. just maybe some flirting?

as you were leaving the hero followed you to your car, ya know just make sure you got there safe of course. not because he thought you were kinda cute of whatever.

“congrats, you can be a sidekick ya know.” you just laughed, shaking your head. “no the hero life isn’t for me sadly. but if i ever change my mind i’ll let you know.” you opened up your car door and slide into your drivers seat.

“well too bad, just try not to hit anyone else on your way home.” he smirked softly, but his expression changed as he remembered something. he fished for something in his pockets as you shut your car door and rolled the window down.

“jesus fuck where did i put it.” as he continued to search you buckled up and waited for whatever the hero was going to give you. you buckled up as you waited for him to get whatever he was looking for.

“THERE IT IS!” he shouted, letting out of a huff of anger since it was buried in his pocket. in between his fingers he held out a black business card towards you. “it’s my number, let me know if you ever crash into someone. or if there’s a villain. i’ll make sure to save the day as usual.” he wore his signature grin as you grabbed the card, smiling and internally freaking out. thank you’s and goodbyes were said towards each other then you drove off home.

you thought you wouldn’t see the pro hero again any time soon since it was a coincidence and all, also because his agency isn’t close to where you reside. but not even a week later you see him patrolling not to far from your apartment during the night.

as you approached your apartment building, the pro hero was as well. you were currently debating if you should say something, but would he even remember you? he probably dealt with a lot of fans everyday. he was a famous hero after all. but as you were thinking and just blatantly staring at the spiky blonde, he recognized you from afar. “hey it’s the bad driver.”

bakugou quickened his pace slightly to approach you, it’s not like he wanted to talk to you or something. oh no he was just going to check up on a civilian walking alone in the middle of the night of course.

seeing him come straight towards you made you flush in embarrassment, did he realize you were staring at him? but you did your best to act cool when he stopped in front of you. “what are you doing out here, aren’t you far away from your agency?”

the pro hero huffed when you beat him to asking the ‘what are you doing here’ question. “i was about to ask you what you’re doing walking around by yourself this late.”

“oh i was just coming back from a night out with friends. and it was close enough to walk.” you explained simply as the hero nodded in response. “i’m guessing you also didn’t want to run anyone over again?”

you wrinkled your nose at his teasing, making the hero chuckle softly at your little pout. “it was an accident! and they were a villain. but you still didn’t answer my question.”

“to simplify my agency is going to start covering this area as well. so were in the process of establishing another head quarters and now i’ll be patrolling around this area more often.”

hearing his explanation honestly filled you with a childish glee, this meant you could run into hero more. just hopefully not with your car. but maybe you could be able to talk to him more, just maybe.

luckily your maybes came true, you were able to see ground zero more often and mostly during the night. the two of you would share quick conversations, just asking about how the other was and of course the usual teasing of you hitting that villain. he would never let it down.

but one night you saw that he was quite dirty and looked exhausted. you started to insist that he just rest in your apartment but of course he refused. he didn’t want to be a bother besides, he was fine. though even if he refused you told him about the spare you had taped under you door mat. not under your door mat because that was too obvious, besides no one actually checks the back of a door mat anyways.

you knew it would take a while for bakugou, he didn’t want you to call him ground zero anymore since you guys were friends now, to accept your offer. so you in the back of your mind you always remembered that he could just show up one day. but one day you were particularly exhausted, work was nothing but terrible.

so when you walked through your apartment you collapsed onto your couch, not having enough energy to make it to your bed. “oi (y/n) if you’re gonna sleep at least go to your bed.”

suddenly hearing bakugou’s voice scared you enough to fall off the couch from trying to sit up too quickly. hearing the thud, bakugou peeked out from the kitchen to see you had fallen on the floor. he didn’t hesitate to start laughing his ass off from you falling.

you sat up straight, glaring at the male. you scrambled up to your feet, flushing in embarrassment. “DON’T SCARE ME LIKE THAT!” you shouted, causing the hero to soften his laughter. “right sorry, but that was fucking hilarious.” he was still trying to calm down, but you were still upset. though seeing him laugh was pretty cute, but no you had to be upset.

actually as you watched him, you could tell that his hair was slightly damp, he had taken a shower it seemed. he was also just wearing his tank top and pants from his hero costume, but did his biceps always look that big? when did they get so defined.

“hey idiot, stop staring and lets eat. i made some food.” you hadn’t noticed he stopped laughing, but you snapped out of your dreamy state and cocked your head to the side. “food?”

he hummed in response as he turned back to go into the kitchen, coming out with two plates of pasta he made. “i figured you’d be hungry, cause i fucking am.” you were about to snatch the plate away from him so you could just eat on the couch, but he moved away before you could snatch it. “you’re eating at the table, not on the couch. you might make a mess.”

your face temporarily twisted into a scowl, you just wanted to eat. but you knew he was right, so you just followed him to your little dinning table. the both of you shared a very pleasant dinner, the food was nothing less of perfection and the chatter was comfortable.

those nights were definitely what you looked forward too now, it wasn’t every day but at least a few days a week. you would come home, he would freshen up and make food, the two of you would eat or watch a movie, then he would crash on the couch. his visiting was causing your feelings or admiration turn into a rather huge crush.

it wasn’t any better for the pro hero, if anything it might’ve been worse. he knew he could just go home instead of crashing at your place, but it was closer. at least that’s what he was telling himself. it’s not like he looked forward to seeing you and hearing you praise him for his hero work or his cooking. it’s not like he would peek into your room to see your sleeping form just before he left your apartment. no he wouldn’t do that, he was just making sure you were alright. it was his duty as a hero after all, to make sure you were safe no matter what.

tonight was a little different from usual, bakugou called you saying that he was off on a mission so you didn’t need to wait up for him. it wasn’t the first time this happened but you still felt a little disappointed that you weren’t able to see him. so when you heard some footsteps, you were quick to sit up in bed.

you waited for a moment since the footsteps had stopped, it was then a uneasy feeling washed over you. bakugou would always shower first no matter what, even if you were home first he wouldn’t go up to you until he showered. because he didn’t want you smelling his dirt and grime, so why was there footsteps near your bedroom door and not your bathroom.

quietly, you rushed over to your bed again and fished around the blankets to grab your phone. once you had it you immediately called bakugou’s phone, hearing the dialing tone and anticipating footsteps didn’t help calm your nerves.

“hello?”

“bakugou someone is here, i can hear footsteps.”

“what? wait (y/n) i’m almost there just hide!”

you nodded, feeling slightly less worried since you knew bakugou would be here soon. but when you saw your bedroom doorknob slowly start to turn, that slight relief you felt vanished in an instant.

anxiety was gnawing away at you as you sat on your bed, burning holes into the door with your intent stare. the doorknob stopped turning, but it only worsened as the door started to slowly swing open. you could make out an arm through the sliver the opening, what was going to happen when they saw you sitting there. what if they had a weapon, you were going to be taken hostage?

“DIEEEE!!” a loud crash erupted further down your apartment then then led to a series of explosions and lots of yelling. you sat there stunned, previous anxiety was replaced with confusion. but as you pieced two and two together you scrambled off from your bed and swung open your bedroom door.

bakugou was outside your bedroom door, pinning down a person dressed in all black who was probably knocked out. as you took in the scene you had never seen the hero so furious before, he was clenching his jaw so tightly you were worried his teeth would break. “bakugou—“

his head quickly twisted to look over at you, his look of anger dissipating and being overtaken by worry. he got off of the poor person and rushed to you. he grabbed your shoulders and immediately started to look around you, “are you okay? did you get hurt?”

watching him frantically look you over made you smile slightly, mostly just relieved that he was here. you brushed his hands off of your shoulder and moved forward, hugging him tightly. you hid your face in his chest as he stood there, taken aback that you were hugging him so suddenly.

“i’m fine bakugou, thank you for saving me.”

the blonde let out a sigh of relief, letting his arms wrap around your waist as he held you close. “you dumbass, you left the door unlocked. what if i was out on some mission and i couldn’t save you?”

hearing his theory, you just shook your head in response. you pulled from the hug just slightly so you could look at him. a smug grin spread across your face as he returned your gaze, “well i know you’ll always save me. no matter what.”

seeing your smug expression and confident words about him, made him all to happy. so in the heat of the moment he leaned down and closed the space between you. pressing his lips against yours in a deep kiss. your eyes widened slightly, but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back.

you only pulled apart until your lungs were practically begging for air, so little pants escaped your slightly swollen lips as you looked up at the blushing hero. suddenly you remembered your situation, “shouldn’t you get them out of here?” you asked, tearing your eyes from bakugou to give the passed out person on your floor a glance.

he tsked at you and rolled his eyes, grabbing your chin so that you were staring at him again. “they can fucking wait, right now. i need to take care of you first.”

oh it was a long night, mostly filled with kisses, but also because you had to accompany your now boyfriend to turn in the fool who tried to break into your apartment. but now you never had to be scared again, because you knew that your hero would save you. he would always save you no matter what.

[ejzah]

Can you write a story where Deeks doesn’t go to Mexico and finds out about the car explosion?

A/N: As you would expect, there’s some angst. I changed a few details around or sped things up to make things flow a bit easier.

***

Bring Me To My Knees

“Can you go faster?” Deeks asked, glancing at the clock as Officer Juarez drove towards the airport, lights flashing.

“I’m already pushing it, Deeks,” Juarez replied. Even so, he floored the gas, careening around a slower-moving bus and minivan. Deeks grasped the passenger door handle, eyes narrowed as he prayed they didn’t crash.

The last 8 hours were some of the worst he could ever remember. He’d spent the night going over his and Kensi’s conversation in the parking garage on an endless loop.

After the fact, he realized that he’d chosen an extremely poor time to address the issue of leaving. They were both keyed up and on edge, but, Deeks was also hurt and angry that Kensi instantly assumed he wanted to break up. Her refusal to listen to him at all, watching her walk away, had nearly broken him.

She hadn’t responded to any of his texts begging her to talk to him or accepted his call just know to let her know he was coming. Even though he was still angry and even if they were irreparably broken-god, the though nearly made him gasp-there wasn’t a chance in hell Kensi was going to Mexico without him.

They were still partners. At least this one last time.

Juarez pulled onto the small runway Nell had given him directions to. He was infinitely grateful that she’d risked Mosley’s wrath and kept him updated on the team’s plan.

As they pulled closer, Deeks’ phone rang and he answered it.

“Deeks, they left.” Nell blurted out immediately. “We tried to keep them for as long as we could. Eric even made up some technical issue, but Mosley was insistent.”

“Damn it!” Deeks hissed, a wave of panic nearly overwhelming. Juarez eyed him warily and Deeks forced himself to breath more evenly.

“I’m so sorry.” He was aware enough to hear the regret and blame in Nell’s voice.

“No, it’s not your fault,” he assured her. “You did everything you could.”

“We’ll keep you updated as much we can,” she told him and he nodded distractedly.

“Thanks, Nell.” He hung up, staring blankly at the empty runway. “Take me home, Mateo.”

***

Agonizing was the only word Deeks could think of to describe the last couple days. Nell had kept informed as much as she could, her last update him that they had a contact and possible plan to breach William’s residence. Then she’d stopped responding to his texts at all.

Deeks was overwhelmed with every horrible scenario he’d dreamt up since the team left. Thoughts of Kensi being held captive and tortured, bleeding out in the middle of the desert. It was too much for him to take.

Which was how he ended up lurking at one of the back exits outside the mission. After this many years, Deeks was fairly skilled at bypassing security, although he did proceed with extra caution in case Mosley had extra guards in place.

“Deeks, what are you doing here?” Nell’s voice suddenly hissed through the intercom. “Do you realize how much trouble this could cause if someone saw you?”

“I’ve been basically fired and my fiancé is on a ridiculously dangerous unsanctioned mission to Mexico,” he reminded her. “How much worse can things get?”

“Fair point,” Nell admitted with a deep sigh. “Fine, get up her, but do not let anyone see you. Mosley is out of the office right now, but I don’t know what instructions she might have given the other agents.”

Not giving Nell a chance to change her mind, he slipped through the door when it clicked open. Fortunately no one stopped him and he made it up to OPS without any issue.

“You are such an idiot,” Nell greeted him, her face looking warn and tired as she stood up. “But I’m really glad you’re here,” she added, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“Thanks for not squealing on me,” Deeks said as Eric turned around and waved in a decidedly uh-Eric-like way. He looked equally exhausted, even strained and a little horrified.

“I would never,” he said, his voice unusually tense.

“So, uh, you guys stopped texting me. What’s going on?”

“Deeks, I don’t-” Deeks held up his hand before Nell could finished her sentence, anticipating her response.

“I know it’s not good so whatever you’re trying to protect me from isn’t working. And if you don’t tell me, I’ll just imagine something even worse. So what ridiculous and suicidal plan did they come up with?” he asked, surprised by how even he managed to keep his voice.

Nell and Eric shared a glance, she took a deep breath, and then he pulled up a video on the big screen.

“Please tell me that’s not where I think it is,” Deeks said, horrified as the camera panned over what was clearly a large complex.

“Kensi is in the process of infiltrating Spencer William’s property as an equestrian with lessons for Derrick. During the lesson, Kensi will escape with Derrick while Sam and Callen provide a distraction and take out any guards,” he explained.

“That is never going to work.”

“Well, they don’t exactly have a lot of options,” Nell reminded him.

“I knew this was going to happen,” Deeks said bitterly. “If M-”

“Guys, be quiet,” Eric interrupted tersely, standing with a finger pressed to the comm in his ear. “Kensi’s in trouble.”

“Don’t say anything,” Nell warned him. In that moment he had no doubt that Nell would unapologetically kick him out if he didn’t comply. He watched, helplessly, as Kensi was forced to her knees and Williams arrived.

“No hablo ingles,” Kensi said quietly, a touch of defiance in her voice. Deeks didn’t allow himself to revel in the sound of her, alive and mostly untouched. Not yet. Not while Williams interrogated her and threatened horrible things.

Somehow he stayed silent as Kensi fought Williams off, the sound of gunfire in the near distance the entire time, and convinced Derrick to come with her. It was difficult to follpw exactly what was happening with all the shouting and gunfire, but eventually they made it the SUV unharmed.

"There's a helicopter waiting for you with EAD Mosley on board," Nell informed Kensi.

Deeks gave her a questioning look and she shook her head. Obviously questions about how Mosley had ended up in Mexico would have to wait for another time.

As Kensi passed Derrick off to an extremely thankful and emotional Mosley, the pilot informed her there was enough room for one more person.

"Take it, Kens," he whispered, willing her to forego her heroic personality for once.

"We're good!" she shouted instead, giving the pilot the signal to leave. "Sam and Callen I'm on my way."

"That was her way home. She would have been safe."

"But Kensi never would leave Sam and Callen in danger," Eric said quietly. "Not when she could possibly help them."

"I know," Deeks choked out. He didn't have time to focus on his frustration or worry as Kensi rescued their teammates amidst a swirl of dust and smoke.

At any other time Deeks would have found the idea of Sam on a horse hilarious. Right now he felt like he might be sick.

"Go, Kensi!" Callen shouted.

"Oh my god," Nell breathed out in disbelief. "They did it."

Deeks let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a second. Even if it wasn't his team anymore, they were safe.

"Woah, Kensi, stop!" Deeks' eyes snapped back open in time to see something explode across the screen right before it turned to snow.

"Oh my god, what was that?" Nell gasped.

"Kensi, Sam, Callen," Eric said loudly. "Guys, can you hear me?"

There was no response. Deeks made a strangled noise, unable to breathe as his knees threatened to give out on him.

"Kens," he whispered, knowing she wouldn't answer him.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 12

Click here if you are a first time reader.

Summary / TWs: Steve Rogers does not pass the vibe check yet again, le sad face. Loki is a good bro. Bruce fluff but what else is new? Literally everyone is a good bro, yo. Reader has best people. Tony's in there, kind of. Parents still suck.

For taglist: please send an ask if you changed your @! I noticed several people are unavailable :(

As always, my baby gay @miscmarvelwritings is the bestest beta!

"I think I am going to murder your father." Bucky's angry statement didn't surprise me. Neither did Steve's initial reaction, or anybody else's mostly pitying looks.

Bruce, my Bwucie, was calm and dejected. That worried me. I expected him to be at least a little bit green around the edges when Steve forcefully sat me down and made me explain the drunken, drugged stunt I'd done the night before, but alas, it seemed like Jolly Green was just sad. Or disappointed. And I didn't know which was worse.

The more I thought about it, the more defensive and abrasive I became. "And you'll kill yourself trying, he'll drive you fucking nuts" I responded to Barnes. "Honestly, I don't fucking see the problem here. My dad shows up five times a year at best. It's been like that forever. And it's not like I'm some kind of junkie," I defended myself, and my dad, because I really didn't see the huge deal about it. Relaxing once in a while doesn’t hurt anyone.

"It's not right!" Steve exclaimed, loosely banging a fist on the table. The self-righteous prick, seemed like he wanted to pick a fight just for the sake of it.

"And who are you, exactly, to say that? The moral police?" I blew up, standing and turning to the blonde man, hands on my hips. "Or you've decided to be my parent without asking me first? Keep your hopes up and maybe a fuck will magically appear, so I could give it to you."

He stood up in turn, getting uncomfortably close to my face. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that he was a very large, very strong man. "We want what's best for you! Can't you see it?" Rogers was getting red in the face, crossed arms, staring at me down like I was dirt under his shoes.

"How about..." I seethed, having to stop mid-sentence to swallow the scream that wanted to erupt. "How about... You FUCKING ask me what I want?"

"I suggest the Captain leave to go calm down," Loki suddenly piped up. He stayed silent throughout the whole conversation, picking at his food instead. Only after his sharply uttered words I noticed he had stood up. His hand hovered over my shoulder, body discreetly wedging between me and the Captain.

I heard Steve growl before he stormed off, throwing an annoyed look at Loki. A pregnant silence hung in the room. The longer it lasted, the more I wanted to crawl out of my skin, suddenly hyper aware of all these people - strangers, save a few - debating on what to do with me. Like I wasn't a person. Like...

"Ugh, fucking hell," I growled, beelining for my bag. I had definitely overstayed my welcome.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, standing up to follow.

"Home," I replied curtly, nodding my thanks to Loki for the intervention. He nodded back, walking off. I would have probably started swinging at the Icicle Dick if not for the raven haired Asgardian's timely interruption.

"I'll drive you," Banner trotted after me like a dejected puppy. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with this, at all.

"I need to see Tony first. Meet you downstairs?"

Bruce nodded, looking even more confused.

Tony kissed me hungrily, in between promises to kill Steve and cancel my dad and get me my own apartment in the tower. Believing in fairy tales wasn't something I was ever prone to; I smiled, nodded along and did my best to shut him up with my own mouth on his. I left with the promise to text him as soon as I got home.

"How are you?" Bruce asked me as we once again drove through the busy city. This was becoming a nice habit but we really had to meet up when I wasn't going through another one of my turmoils.

"All things considered, I am great. Better than I've been in a while." I answered honestly, meaning it. However brief Tony's attention would be, it still satisfied me. Then and there I decided to always, always cherish what happened during my brief stint in his arms.

"Really?" Banner's warm smile was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. "Care to share?"

It threw me for a loop. I didn't know how much Tony wanted to disclose regarding what happened between us. I didn't know the extent of his friendship with Bruce. I didn't know...

"Tony," I choose the usual option. Admit what you can't deny, deny what you can't admit.

"I know the feeling," The good doctor chuckled, companionable-like and meaningful. "He tends to go all the way for the people he cares about. Too much, if you ask me."

"What do you mean?" I was confused. Sure, me and Tony were friends. But not, like, super close or anything. We'd fucked, or more like messed around, so I expected our friendship to grow colder. That's what happened when friends decided to bump uglies.

"I mean... He'll move mountains and challenge the government and bully them into dropping charges against you," There was a hint of sadness in Brucie's voice. I vaguely recalled seeing something on the news, something about the Hulk and a massive destruction spree. It didn't take long to put two and two together.

I reached out, putting a hand on his knee. He covered my palm with his own, giving it a brief, warm squeeze.

"It must be great having a friend like that. You're both wonderful and brilliant. You deserve no less," The smile threatened to split my face in two.

Bruce returned the smile but the sadness didn't go away. "You realize that extends to you, right?"

"Me? I'm just me, Bruce." I wasn't sure where this was going. "I'm Peter's classmate and the resident hot mess express."

Bruce frowned, deep and long, up until he parked. Life seemed to be taking back all the happiness it gave me previously-in fucking buckets. The strap of my bag was going to get its threads pulled out with the way I was fiddling with it.

"Baby… Princess?" The scientist turned to me, tone torn somewhere between stern and pleading. "Listen to me. You are brilliant. Incredibly smart, talented and beautiful. Don't ever, ever think of yourself as less than any of us." I gaped at him.

Did he mean us as the Avengers? Us as Tony and Bruce? Meanwhile he continued, "In fact, I think you are the one who deserves so much better. I don't know what Tony found in me… Or what you found in me."

Was the man an idiot or yes? That was the question of the day. Cursing Tony's affinity for small cars (bless me and my own SUV), I only hesitated a moment before grabbing the dumb Banner by his face and startling him into looking straight in my eye. "If you don't quit talking all that fake-ass bullshit, I will kiss you. On the mouth. With tongue."

"Uh," Was his articulate response. I watched him squirm, blush and lose the heat to his argument.

"Exactly. I've had it all with you idiots today. Next time someone says some stupid ass fucking thing, I will kiss them. On the mouth, with tongue. Pass it on," I exhaled, releasing his face and dropping my head onto his shoulder.

"Some way of solving conflict you have," Banner chuckled weakly, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "I'd like to see Steve's reaction."

"A boner, probably, because he needs to get laid before he spontaneously combusts," I grumbled venomously, still bitter about his reaction. The Capsicle needed to chill. Hehe.

"I'll pass it on too," Bruce remarked wryly. "See you next week?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Bwucie, you're the fucking best," I kissed the scientist on the cheek, giving him a tighter than usual parting hug and walking up the pathway. Home.

Mother was nowhere to be seen - and the obvious reason for that laid on the kitchen floor. Couple of smashed dishes, a bottle of whiskey laying half-empty in a puddle on the grey tiles. The living room rug bore more stains and the smell of alcohol, bitter and acrid (like my soul, hardy har), hung heavily throughout the whole house.

At least I wasn't the only one who fought for myself that day. Mother probably had landed a good one on dad, too, by God the woman could be ruthless with her icy words. Dad never stood a chance. I've felt begrudgingly respectful of the way mother put people in their place with her words ever since I understood sarcasm.

First things first, I cleaned up the mess and opened the windows a smidge, cranking the air recuperation system to the max. Hanging around a place that smelled like a bum on a good Friday night was a horrible way to spend free time. Having successfully cut myself and bandaged the cuts up, I retreated to my room, not wanting to spend more time than necessary in the quiet, stinky, creepy house that my home had become.

My phone was long dead so I plugged it in, waiting for the 2% to appear, turning it on. A few messages from Peter, first cheerful, then worried and then relieved. Tony must've placated the spider child and told him I was staying at the tower. Good call, Tones, or else poor Peter would've worked himself into an anxiety attack and crashed in a dumpster while patrolling. Or something. I still didn't quite get his spider-hero side-gig.

A text from Bruce - rather, a photo, of a disgruntled Steve with his eyebrows raised, titled "I told him the next time he freaks out, you will kiss him. With tongue. Barnes cackled for about ten minutes until he ran out of air."

And a text from Tony. My chest tightened when I opened it. "Good tactics. Sneaky, clever, I'd give it a B+."

I snorted. Then the phone beeped again and I froze. A text ordering me to be ready tomorrow, for a date night? Unreal. I was torn. A part of me was elated, thinking Tony wanted to keep me around like that. The other, more sensible part, was firmly telling me to chill TF down. He'll most likely kindly reject any further intimate interactions, maybe have me sign a few NDAs.

I still answered positive, mushy and cute and all. Feelings aside, I wasn't about to change my texting style for any man. My God, I was turning into a monster. A horribly cheesy, pink, soft, fluffy monster.

The next day, school was nearly unbearable. People talked. Not to my face, of course, since the rumours of me putting away Flash Thompson were still fresh enough for everyone to be cautious around me, but the whispers followed me throughout hallways, tongue in cheek remarks thrown at me from the bathroom stalls, behind the teacher's desks. Did I care? Nope.

Okay, I did, but not in the way one would think. The little spring in my step, a slight smirk. My thoughts were occupied with my upcoming dinner with Tony.

Peter and his pet nerds stood at my side, the ever watchful guards. I had no idea why they decided I needed reassurance or their comfort (I did not), but I had to admit it was cute. MJ, in particular, glared her Death Ray Stare at any male-identifying student that dared to as much as look wrongly in my direction. I mostly ignored the trio. Pete himself did a great job with entertaining his friends, he babbled on as usual, about everything and nothing in particular. Mouth ulcers. He was going to get them one day.

Dad called me during third period, saying he was flying off to California. I would have been lying if I said I didn't know why he scheduled the sudden trip; mother's total radio silence and the absence of her laptop in her own office spoke volumes about the state of my family's affairs. They had a fight and ran off to the opposite ends of the continent. I didn't understand why mother was upset with me, though. I saved her face during dinner at Tony's, so why is she mad about me going to a party with dad? Baffling woman.

Admitting the house felt like home when either of them were absent was hard. Or, perhaps, I felt nothing at all. Spending so much time around the Brady Bunch- the Avengers made me too soft for my own liking. It wasn't just Tony that lived in mind rent-free all the time now; there was Bruce, with his kindness, Bucky with his overgrown teenager attitude, Wanda with her wit and hair that smelled like cheap shampoo - seriously, I absolutely had to show her the benefits of decent hair products. That was just to list the few little quirks. There were so many people, all of them different and wonderful in their own way.

To summarize it, I was both happy for them and bitter for not having any of that to myself. Although it made me kind of glad I didn't have a sibling - looking after someone in the mess that mother and dad created would've been a nightmare. They say it's always a better place where we are not.

I went through a whole pack of cigarettes in a span of a couple of hours. Plagued by strangely melancholic thoughts, trying to push down the anxiety over my upcoming date, my choice of outfit proved to be a cumbersome task while in process.

Expensive but simple dress with spaghetti straps, in my favourite colour. That was the easiest part. A good base for any accessories. Would Tony like it? Would the press make outrageous comments?

Either way, it would. Dad's comments cut deeper than I probably realized it until now; in a sudden bout of self-awareness and a couple of mouse clicks later... Tony wouldn't care. Tony wears suits with sneakers. The Manolos flew back, towards my shoe closet, and a pair of Chanel trainers made their debut. A Hermes 2002 barely weighed down by my wallet, keys and phone. A nice coat, too, appropriately light and so very conceptual and fashionable.

I spent way too much time deciding on what to wear. A stern talking to, however, didn't help me, and I had to redo my make-up - the "nude", "all natural" look was one of the hardest to nail. Or so Marie Claire said. Whatever, my highlighter game was, as usual, on point.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway (it finally let me tag you)!

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

Could you do 40 and 59 with Taza? It could be were he comes home while the reader is making a cake or any dessert and it leads to some smutty time! ❤️

Author comment: English is not my first language, sorry for grammar mistakes!

Prompts:

40. “What if I put chocolate on you?”

59. “I'm pregnant?” “What?” “I'm kidding, but I want a baby”.

Spend your free day at the rancho is simply perfect.

You wake up early, taking some time to see how Taza continues sleeping peacefully, leaving caresses on his hair. Your head is resting on the pillow, a leg around his waist and his arms tangled wrapping your body, next to him. Before the alarm starts to sound, you put it off 'cause you know how much he hates waking up with that horrible song. Leaving the phone away on the nightstand, you give him dearly kisses all around his sleepy face, knowing that he's waking up when you hear some whinings, pushing you closer to him.

“Buenos días, mi amor”. (Good morning, my love). You say in a whisper, with a soft smile on your lips.

“Llama a Bishop y dile que estoy muriéndome”. (Call Bishop and tell him I'm dying). He replies with a sigh, opening his eyes.

“It's your free day, Che”. Rolling your eyes, you bury your lips on his neck continuing there with the kisses. “What if you feed the horses, while I make breakfast, uh?”

“What if they wait and I fuck my beautiful wife, uh?” You laugh shaking your head, resting it again back to the pillow.

“Feed the horses, I'll make breakfast”.

“I want the divorce”. He says, watching carefully as you get out of bed, naked.

“You sure?” You ask raising an eyebrow, taking his shirt from the floor to wear it. He's lying on the mattress, with one elbow nailed to it and his chin resting on the palm of his hand.

“Ni muerto nos divorciaríamos”. (Not even dead we would divorce).

You walk through the rustic hallways on your way to the kitchen, with a craving of pancakes. Quick and easy recipe. While the coffee maker is on the fire, with the delicious smell flooding the house, you look for all the ingredients you need. Flour, eggs, milk... All on the worktop. It takes you less than thirty minutes to have everything ready, even the melted chocolate served on top of the pancakes. Taza is on time too.

On the kitchen island, he finally finds the breakfast sitting next to you. He drinks from his mug, staring at you as the man in love he is.

“What? Is it cold?” You ask then a little confused.

“No it's perfect. I just was thinking...” After leaving the coffee next to yours, his warm hand runs your tight slowly, starting to give you some kisses on the neck. “What if I put some chocolate on you?”

You're smiling like an idiot, feeling the tickle he provokes you with the minimal touch. He know that has that power and how he should use it.

“Che, we have to talk”.

The caresses stop. He takes some seconds to incorporate on the stool. He frowns confused, 'cause those words never bring anything good. He's staring at you waiting.

“I'm pregnant”.

“What?” His face is a fucking poem and you're pretty sure he is about to have a heart attack.

“I'm kidding, but I want a baby”. This is like a roller coaster to him, who is trying to say something but he doesn't have enough words to express himself. “You know... We have never had this ‘talk’, but I would like us to have a family”.

“But we already have”. He says a little bit in panic. “With... horses, cows, chickens...”

“C'mon, Taza! That's not a family”.

“Mi amor, we fuck like damn rabbits. And you've had never got pregnant. Don't you think my age has something to do with it?”

“It's not because of you. I have a IUD”. You confess having a sip of your coffee.

“Sorry, what?” He shakes his head wanting not to have heard that. “Since when?”

“Since four years ago. You were... a little bit drunk, talking with Tranq and Bishop about having children, god knows why. And you said that, and I quote, ‘never ever in my fucking life I would have one of those demons’, so... I called my doctor”. Your husband is freaking out in silence. He cross his arms at the same time he rubs his nape heavily.

“You have to be kidding me”. You know he's angry by the look he gives you. With pursed lips and shaking the head slowly, you let him know that you're not.

“The idea of losing you, if I ever told you that I was pregnant, scared me more than anything”. You're trying to justify yourself, but everything is getting worse with every word.

“The fuck you think I am, (Y/N)? Even if I didn't want kids, if you tell me you're pregnant, I'm gonna be the father I have to be. And I would be delighted, 'cause is my fucking kid”.

“You sounded so sure that...”

“I was fucking drunk, c'mon!” He gets up of the stool, walking away some steps, turning you his back. “Shit, this has to be a fucking joke”.

The man take his phone of the pocket, typing something before put it on his left ear.

“Hey, brother... Nah, 'am good... Yea', she's too. Listen, I need tomorrow free too... I'll tell you on friday... Yea', sure, everything is ok, no worries. Gracias, hermano”.

You're trembling about to cry, knowing that he was talking with Bishop. And you're hoping he didn't ask for that to call the lawyer and really get divorce. He sighs leaving the phone on the worktop, supporting his waist there staring at you upset.

“Che, I'm sor...”

“Call your fucking doctor”.

“... What?”

“Call your fucking doctor and tell him to... take off that shit”.

You're confused, turning on your stool to be in front of him. You're not understanding what is going on.

“And I wan'it done before tonight”.

“So... you want to... have a baby?” You frowns, getting up to walk towards him But he doesn't say anything, turning his head to nearest window. “Why did you ask for the day off?”

“You want a baby? I'm gonna give you a fucking litter”. Taza replies with an impassive grimace. “And tomorrow, we're gonna stay in the bed all day”.

A smile start to grow on your face, even if you can't believe that this is happening. Having a family with him is one of the things you want the most. And knowing he wants the same makes you the most happy on earth. You hug him, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his chest. Che leaves a kiss on your head, supporting his chin there.

“I don't know why you believe anything that I say when I'm drunk. I don't even remember my name”. He clicks his tongue, pushing himself away some inches enough to look at you.

“I'm sorry...”

“Don't do it something like that again, ok? There are no secrets between us”.

“And I promise this is the only thing I have hidden you, since we met”. You add just in case. “What if... you give me a preview of tomorrow?”

You don't have to ask again. He's gonna do it delighted. Grabbing your hand, he guides you back to your room, throwing you to the bed so he can takes off his shirt. You do the same, being fully naked letting him some seconds to enjoy the views, before gets between your legs. He's to anxious and angry, devouring your lips without giving you the option to play. Che thrusts his hardness inside you, making you arch your back because of the pleasure. Mostly you two prefer to take your time, pleasing the other and enjoying every moan. But not this time.

The frantic movement his waist does drive you crazy, diggind his fingers on your hips to make sure you don't move more than necessary. One of your hands is tangled on his hair, pushing him closer, while the other scratches his back with every pound that makes you cry out his name as he loves.

“Tomorro' night, you won' be... able to walk, 'you hear me?” He growls against your lips, catching your lower lip between his teeth in a strong bite before kiss you.

Every time he drowns his cock inside you, so angry and rubbing your clit slightly, feels like you could touch the sky. You can't never get bored or tired of him, being needy all day. No matter how many time he takes to please you, or wich position he choose. Everything he does, he does for you. The moves begin to be faster, harder, continues. He doesn't need to hear you say that you're about to cum, 'cause he knows pretty well your body and every reaction it makes.

His teeth dragging the skin of your neck, leaving a wet bite on your collarbone, while he forces you to put your legs around his waist. That lets him thrusts you deeper, making his moans get louder to your own pleasure.

“Fuck, mi amor... You're always so tight...” Those words sounds like the sweetest melody to you, feeling how the tickles grow in your low belly.

You push him next to you with your legs wrapping strongly around him. Che loves your face when you're about to have an orgasm because of him. The fingers of one of his hands grab your neck, by the time his free arm takes your body into his.

“Cum for me, mi amor”. He asks you directly over your lips.

Your eyes are on his when your back arches for inertia, feeling that delicious sensation flooding your body, with the name of your husband being cried out. One of the best thing of live out of town is that no one can hear how noisy you are. But he doesn't stop until you're able to feel how he empties between your legs with the same fury he's fucking you. Taza's moans are the best with difference. You love hear him falling apart with every caress you make him, no matter when or where.

Your legs are trembling, resting now on the mattress, but you don't want him to pull himself out. The warm his body gives you it's everything for you, and he likes how soft you're skin is, leaving some caresses on it. His lips finds yours, a little bit tired and your breath shaking.

“What if you bring breakfast here?”

“I made it”. You complain between laughs.

“But I'm gonna give you a baby. Or two. Or three... Who knows?”

“And I'm gonna carry it for nine months”.

Taza growls 'cause he know that you have won. But, before he can pushes away himself, you wrap his waist with one leg getting him deeper inside you.

“Shit, baby...” You gasp biting your lips for a moment. He chuckles softly. “Don't fucking move until I tell you, Che!”

“Feels good...?

“As always”.

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 05

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, light angst, mentions of smut

; Word Count: 4k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: The second half of the date! :D this is literally how I talk how in real life btw, people who know me have learnt to just put up with my random topics and I thought it would be fun to put them in too. Hoseok is a sweetheart, I love him :3 Please let me know what you think and reblog if you liked! <3

; Flower Masterpost

Hoseok had been right that this place smelled delicious and your stomach had begun rumbling even before you’d been seated. It wasn’t hugely busy, which was surprising given it was a Friday night but it meant that you’d been given a window seat, letting you look out at the other bright store fronts and the people out doing their late night shopping.

The two of you had been served quickly, the waiter taking down your order of a chicken jalfrezi with pilau rice and Hoseok’s chicken keema balti while the two of you shared a large peshwari naan. He’d ordered a beer as well while you’d settled for a Diet Coke, looking down shyly as you’d ordered it and wondering if it wasn’t sophisticated enough for a date.

But Hoseok hadn’t said anything, just given a soft smile as he’d waited until the waiter had moved on. Neither of you had really said anything of interest since entering, mainly just focusing on the menu and deciding what you wanted. Which was stupid, because you got the same thing every time and it seemed like Hoseok had a preset idea of what he wanted as well.

And now...you were both sat waiting expectantly for your food. This meant that you had finally entered the most dreaded part of the date for you. The bit where you meant to talk to him like a normal person and not someone who found the very idea of small talk daunting and overwhelming.

Which was why you were currently fidgeting with your napkin, eyes lowered down to the white fabric and fingers brushing over it before moving back. You were nervous now, any sense of camaraderie and easiness with him gone as your mind frantically worked for a topic that you could engage him with.

Metal music wasn’t an option; you didn’t listen to it and so had absolutely zero idea of what to say in regards to that. You also didn’t really understand photography, so you couldn’t really talk about that. Though, then again, it might get him to talk. It was always easier if the other person was interested as you could just rebound of them.

“You don’t have many pictures of makeup like that on your Facebook. Is that like...some hidden talent?” Hoseok asks suddenly, taking a deep drink of his beer before tilting his head to look at you expectantly. Your mind blanked for a moment, eyes wide as you blinked at him before your mouth opened.

“You’ve looked at my Facebook?” The words are stupid and you mentally cringe, wishing you could just slap yourself on the fact without looking an even bigger idiot. But Hoseok just smiles and laughs, his face once more extraordinarily beautiful and you feel a tiny kernel of resentment at the fact he can look that good without needing to spend half an hour staring into a mirror with hundreds of dollars of expensive makeup sat around him.

“Of course I have. Isn’t that like...rule number one when you friend someone on Facebook? You go through all their pictures and stuff...don’t tell you haven’t done the same to me.” He wags a finger at you then teasingly, lips turned into a pretty smile.

Which only turns into a deep and husky laugh when your eyes dart away from him in embarrassment, fully aware that you had in fact looked at all of his photos and posts. In fact, you’d probably done worse than him given that you’d drooled over him with Soyeon and Chungha.

“It’s okay. I fully admit to it so don’t get too worried or upset over it. But still...you don’t seem to wear makeup in a lot in them?” He looks quizzically at you and you wonder for a moment if he actually cares or if he’s just finding a subject to talk about.

You decide to indulge him anyway, thankful for the topic even if it’s not the most interesting thing you can think of to talk about.

“I mostly post makeup things on my Instagram. You probably noticed but...I don’t really use Facebook. Mostly to just watch videos that pop up. You know those ones where it’s like…’oh your friend liked this’ or it’s just from a random site that for some reason turns up? And then you start watching it and you start out watching a sweet story of a guy adopting a disabled cat and loving her but then half an hour later you realise you’re laid in bed watching a video of how to make a toilet seat out of coloured pencils and wonder what you’re doing with your life?” 

Hoseok stares at you for a quick second and you momentarily panic, realising you’d blindly started talking about something entirely unrelated before he bursts into laughter, one hand coming up to cover his mouth as pure amusement dances in his eyes. 

“Oh god, I’m so glad I’m not the only one! I ended up watching a video the other day of...oh god, what was it? They were like...making stuff for dolls? And it was very interesting to watch her make all these super tiny accessories but in the back of my mind all I could think was…’who has the time for this?!’” You can’t help but laugh at that, gesturing wildly as you nod.

“Yes! I’ve seen that one! Or those ones where they’re life hacks and I’ll be sat there like ‘this is literally the worst thing I’ve ever seen’. There was one about Christmas hacks and like...what is the point? I think one of them was like, oh make this as a gift for your friend! And it was like...they literally made a sponge into a teddy. It just looked like a sponge...as a teddy. I mean...I love my best friends but if that’s all they got me…” 

“Well...it’s the thought that counts, isn't it?” Hoseok teases, white teeth biting his lower lip and avoiding his lip ring.

“Not when all they’ve got me a fucking sponge. There’s being thoughtful with your gifts and then there’s...that.” 

“I’m laughing but I agree. In fact, back on the subject of makeup, there was one I saw the other day where a hack to give yourself fuller lips was apparently...to glue your upper lip to the skin above your lip? And it genuinely just looked like they’d just glued their lips.” You snort at that, fingers rubbing at your own lips as you cringe at the thought of doing that. 

“Well, I definitely don’t do that. Although I did try using this lip plumping thing once because I’d seen people on YouTube use it. And like...it worked but everyone said it hurt and I just thought they were exaggerating. They weren’t, it felt like a thousand bees had kissed me with their ass stings and it wasn’t even worth the end result. Honestly.” Hoseok looks like he’s trying desperately not to laugh and you eyeball him warily.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment and you watch closely as his lips pursed, evidently trying to control his reaction as best he can before he finally speaks, fingers tracing his cutlery as he looks down with a smirk. 

“Got any...uh...got any pictures of that? Bet it’s interesting.” You throw your napkin at him at him, causing him to laugh even harder as his hands come up to protect his face. He takes the now open napkin and carefully folds it before handing it back to you carefully.

You’re both interrupted from any further conversation by the arrival of your food and your mouth waters as the small metal bowl of chicken jalfrezi is served to you on top of a plate while a second bowl of rice is placed down. The giant naan is placed between you both and you hum in delight, hands clapping together excitedly as you wriggle in your chair, completely oblivious to the amused face Hoseok wears.

“Mmmm! I love jalfrezi.” Reaching out, you begin to sort out your plate before reaching out and grabbing a piece of naan, tearing it off and popping it into your mouth with a long and low hum of satisfaction. Hoseok eyes you for a moment before taking a bite, nodding in his own satisfaction.

Neither of you speak for a few moments more as you both focus on eating, perfectly content with stuffing your mouth full of wonderfully spiced foods before adding the soothing naan to calm your mouth. Looking up at Hoseok finally, you note the way he’s eyes are focused down as he uses some of the naan to wipe at some sauce on the edge of his plate, chewing on it happily.

From this angle, you can see down the slope of the elegant nose while his dark hair falls forward into his eyes. He’s honestly beautiful and the nerves that had slipped away at your easy conversation come back.

But if there’s one thing about you, it’s that you’re brutally honest and your mouth begins working before you even mean for it to. And what you say would have Soyeon and Chungha cursing to the heavens, you just know it.

“I’m sorry if I’m a little awkward to talk to. I don’t really know how to talk to people. I should probably stop talking now. This isn’t how a date is meant to go,” You cringe, body going warm as Hoseok slows his eating down before shaking his head.

“Well...it was going good until that,” He’s smiling as he says it though, blunting what could have been a harsh and direct comment. “It’s okay. Like I said at the start of it all, I’ve kinda guessed that about you. And there’s no one way for a date to go. I once had a date where a girl literally threw up on me. I still went on a second date with her, so you’re doing great.”

Your eyes widen while your face cringes slightly, sympathy for him rushing through you. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. That would be the worst for me. I have sympathy sickness thing so I’d have thrown up on her. What did you do that made her throw up?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair as he looks out the window, obviously recollecting.

“Why do you assume I did something? I did nothing. We went out to a bar, we got a lil’ drunk. Let’s just say...her gag reflex seemed to have been shortened by alcohol. And that’s all I’m saying on that.” His cheeks are a soft pink in the lighting of the restaurant and you frown, brows coming together as you try to work out what he’s saying.

And then it clicks and you gasp, eyes going wide.

“Holy fuck. She threw up on your dick?” You whisper harshly and Hoseok immediately makes a shushing motion, his cheeks no longer a rose gold but instead a fire engine red that is at complete odds with his badass look. He does not look like the kind of man to be embarrassed about having that story told and yet here he is, almost writhing in shame.

“Shh, please. God. It wasn’t her fault. I mean...well it doesn’t matter. Either way, I still took her out for a second date. So you are doing absolutely amazing, I swear.” His hands are held up in appeasement now and a small part of you takes in how pretty his hands are, the fingers long and elegant while a few silver rings wrap themselves around some of the digits.

Which provides a very strange state of being given you’ve just imagined his dick covered in vomit and now you’re imagining those fingers between your legs. Sexual attraction is a strange beast indeed.

“Well...I’m not gonna suck your dick tonight so you don’t have to worry about vomiting.” The words come out blunt and Hoseok’s eyes widen almost comically, his jaw dropping while his brows lift. And your hand slaps onto your mouth as you realise what you’d just said out loud, quickly looking around and slumping in relief when you realise that there’s no one really within earshot of you.

“...good to know. I er...wasn’t expecting it, just so you know. A blowjob...not the throwing up part. Actually I wasn’t expecting either of them. Though I don’t know why I would - you know what? I’m just gonna shut up and eat.” And with that, he stuffs his mouth full of chicken as he stares firmly at the table.

You can’t help the small laugh of amusement that leaves you, your fork moving around some of your rice slowly as you recognise the sense of awkwardness that lays itself heavily on the tablet. It’s something that you’re often familiar with, even if you hate it, but you get the sense that it’s not something Mr Friendly over there is used to.

So you do what you always do when you’re feeling uncomfortable or awkward. Which is to just blurt out the first fact that comes to mind.

“Did you know blowing up the moon is a really bad idea?” 

The silence now is no longer awkward, which you feel proud over, but that doesn’t stop the look of pure confusion from Hoseok as he looks back up at you. A spoonful of curry and rice is halfway to his mouth and you can see the inner fight inside before he shrugs.

“Well...yeah. I mean...it’d fuck the tides up.” Immediately you’re shaking your head and you soon launch into an in depth discussion about why destroying the moon is a bad idea. And even though it’s probably the most random topic Hoseok has probably discussed all day...he goes along with it and finds himself laughing once more. Even arguing with you a little on certain facts before giving in and bowing to your evidently better knowledge on the subject.

But the weirdness thankfully disappears quickly as the topics soon blend into one another. And thankfully, you both managed to get in some personal discussions about yourselves. You’d told him about how you’d actually always wanted to work with horses but that your family didn’t make enough money to get you to a stables or anything when you were younger.

Which meant that you’d eventually just done a degree in English literature, embracing your passion and love for reading books if you couldn't do anything with horses. Plus, you weren’t smart enough to do anything like equine sciences and you were too soft to be a veterinarian. You couldn’t handle having to put animals down.

And the reward for your four years of hard work and passion? A job as an administration assistant at an electrical company. Obviously a hugely glamorous job that you had evidently been aspiring to when you were a child.

Not that you had anything against people who also did this job, but it wasn’t particularly interesting and you didn’t really see a future career for yourself. Was this how everyone your age felt or something? You didn’t really have any hugely transferable skills and so had been stuck at this level for a while.

Hoseok on the other hand, had apparently gone to college without the intention of actually really doing anything. In fact, he’d happened to just enroll in a computer science class just because he thought he’d be able to play games throughout the whole class without complaining too much. And then he’d discovered that he actually really enjoyed it and was good at it.

Which had led him to his job, which equally didn’t sound hugely interesting but was apparently much better paid than yours. You’d pouted at that for a few minutes, wondering if it was possible to go back in time and tell yourself to do something better with your life.

But still, the conversation had finally begun to gain some semblance of a flow and you found yourself enjoying your time with him. He made you laugh and made you feel comfortable, went along with your random moments of weirdness - such as the tangent about how on earth do you milk an almond when you told him that you preferred to drink almond milk to normal - and seemed to be enjoying himself.

Or at least...you’d hoped he had. 

He’d been polite with the bill as well, not immediately assuming that you’d be okay with him paying and instead asking if you’d be okay with that or if you wanted to pay half. You’d shyly let him, not telling him that no one had ever paid for your date before and you hadn’t really known what to do with yourself after that.

And now you were walking outside, slowly heading to where you parked your car because he’d insisted that he wasn’t going to let you walk alone. Part of you wanted to rebel against that, be all ‘down with the patriarchy’ and shit but then you’d looked at the dark street and simply agreed. Because you hated walking on your own in the dark.

Someone who was as nervous and anxious as you didn’t particularly do well with that, and quite often your imagination would run wild if someone was walking behind you.

So despite the fact that the conversation had petered out once more, you felt oddly comfortable around him. In that way that you rarely felt with most people. Normally, you felt an incessant need to fill the dead air if you were with someone with an irrational fear that if they weren’t talking then it meant that they didn’t like you. 

It was stupid obviously, but that was because it was an irrational fear. It wasn’t meant to make sense! 

But with Hoseok, despite how overwhelmingly intimidating you found him in terms of his looks, had an incredibly friendly personality that seemed to encourage you to be more open and comfortable with him. He laughed with you, not at you. Not unless you were specifically inviting him to that is.

He had carefully planned out your first date to make sure that it would accommodate your evident shyness, finding a way to encourage you to talk to him without having to scramble for conversation. And he’d certainly rolled with the punches when you’d pulled out your strange facts.

You almost got the sense that he enjoyed them, stretching his brain in bizarre ways as he tried to keep up with how your mind seemed to move a hundred miles a minute. It was something you appreciated; how hard he’d tried to keep the conversation light and easy without leaving too much on you to try and fumble your way through it.

Looking up at him, you take in the sight of his astoundingly beautiful side profile in the passing street lights and bite your lip in silent awe. As if this man, this prime example of nature coming together in the most beautiful way possible, had found you interesting enough to not only take you on a date...but stay with you the whole night.

And even walk you to your car! He wasn’t desperately ready to be rid of you, but was actively spending more time with you.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t even realise when you’d arrived the place you’d parked your car, Hoseok pausing and looking at you with expectant brows. For a second you simply stared back blankly, wondering what he’s doing before you realise and make an ‘oh’ expression.

“Oh, sorry. Miles away. Erm...thank you. For walking me. And err...everything tonight. It was...nice.” Oh yeah, definitely pulling him in with that one.

But he just smiles. “Just nice? It was my talk of dick vomit that dropped it down a notch, wasn't it? 10/10 conversation topic there Hoseok.”

And that’s why you like him even more, not just because he’s handsome but also because he has a personality that appeals to you. Not too afraid to be self-deprecating while also saving you from any awkwardness. Like he almost knew you wouldn’t be too comfortable with this and was finding a way to make things easier on you.

It made you feel a bit guilty that he was having to do that, but you simply let out a quiet sigh and straightened your shoulders.

“Hey...that might be one of my kinks,” You tease, watching as his faces falls into what can only be politely called a grimace and you giggle. “I’m kidding. But still...thank you. For not...just ghosting or standing me up. Or leaving halfway through. Had that happen once. Mortifying but I got a free meal ‘cos the waiter felt sorry for me.”

And now he looks horrified.

“Wow, that’s an ass move. My mom would be beat my ass raw if I ever thought of even doing that. Well...the good news is that at no point tonight did I want to leave. I very much enjoyed tonight. And you. And...I kinda hope you’ll want to do it again...if you want to.” Your body does something very strange at that; your stomach tightens and flips while nervous excitement streaks through you, happiness and a need to be sick fighting together.

“Oh god, I’m trying really hard to not be the second girl to vomit on you right now. I’m sorry.” You may not physically vomit but you certainly word vomit, cringing while he lets out a soft laugh. And then his hands are gently tilting your chin up, letting you lock with him before he gives you a brilliant and bright smile.

“Please don’t. A man only needs one ‘girl vomiting on him’ story in his life. I’m going to let you get in your car now before you have a heart attack or something, because you look like you are and I am most definitely not a doctor. And my track record of first dates will evidently look even better if you end up in hospital. So...I will text. Not call, because I don’t think you’ll like that. Is that okay?” 

He’s looking at you so sincerely, his fingers so warm and soft on your skin and you forget to even breath for a moment as you look up at him through wide eyes. He looks so pretty in the crappy lighting surrounding you, and yet this is probably better than any fantasy you could’ve imagined. But you can’t find the words to respond to him, stunned into silence by his physical touch and so you simply nod.

“Great. Drive carefully. Let me know that you got home safe, okay?” Hoseok gives you a gentle smile before leaning forward.

And then he’s pressing the tiniest, butterfly touch soft kiss to your cheek. The cold of his lip ring startles you out of your reverie, causing you to jolt ever so slightly and the movement causes you to pull away from his lips. But you don’t say anything, physically incapable as your eyes are as wide as dinner plates and you get the sense that Hoseok is seriously trying not to laugh so as not to embarass you.

You don’t even realise you’ve gotten into your car, buckle your seat belt and set off until you suddenly realise that you’re sat at a red light five minutes. The ghost of his kiss on your cheek is still there, throbbing gently and you touch your cheek in awe.

And then you squeal loudly like a little girl, fists clenching as you wriggle your body in sheer, unadulterated joy and excitement.

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Three

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Three

Jace woke with the sun just barely beginning to filter through his bedroom window. He’d been half-afraid, half-hopeful that he’d wake to find he and Simon had gravitated toward each other in the night, but they each remained firmly on their sides of the bed, a scant few inches between them.

They had, however, shifted slightly. Simon had kicked the covers off in the night, or maybe Jace had stolen them, and Simon was curled toward the center of the bed, facing Jace, one hand tucked beneath his cheek. His curls stuck out at odd angles, and there was a faint damp patch of drool on the pillow beneath him. Jace thought it was oddly endearing. Either that, or he was completely losing his mind. Probably both. Either way, he needed to get the hell out of bed before he did something really stupid, like reaching out to straighten those curls, or just continuing to lie here staring like some love-struck supermarket romance novel heroine.

Making as little noise as possible, Jace made his way out of bed and pulled on some actual clothes, including the very silly, but very soft reindeer-adorned sweater Izzy had given him for Christmas last year.

“How is it morning already?” Simon’s voice was muffled, and Jace refused to look over and see him looking, no doubt, adorable and far too right in that bed.

“The inexorable march of time,” Jace told him. “I was just going to head down and see about starting some coffee if Iz hasn’t already.”

“Gimme just a second and I’ll come with you,” Simon said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Clary swears your sister’s coffee is amazing and almost makes it worth getting up as early as she does.”

“Nothing is worth getting up when Izzy does,” Jace told him, folding his arms and looking pointedly away while Simon changed. “But she does make some damned good coffee. I’m not sure how she manages to do that when she’s such a disaster with everything else in the kitchen.”

“That’s like the opposite of my sister. Becky is a great cook, but she can never brew a pot of coffee without getting grounds in it. Which is kind of messed up considering how much of it she drinks.”

“Is that where you get your caffeine addiction from?” Jace asked, risking a glance over at Simon for the sake of treating him to a mocking raised eyebrow. He was just in time to catch the last sliver of toned abs disappearing beneath the hem of a Yoda sweatshirt.

“Pretty sure we both get it from Mom.” Simon grinned at him, offering his hand. “Ready when you are, sweetheart.”

“Then let’s get a move on, sugar bear.”

They were greeted with Izzy’s singsong “Good morning!” as they descended the stairs. Clary, feet tucked up beneath her on the couch and leaning heavily into her girlfriend as she sipped her coffee, offered them a sleepy wave.

“About time,” Max muttered from where he sat, engrossed in his phone at the end of the opposite couch.

Jace should have known something was up from the way Izzy watched them as they made their way downstairs, should have felt the telltale dread he always felt at her slowly growing Cheshire Cat grin. But he hadn’t had his first cup of coffee, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep, and he was still maybe just a little distracted by that tempting glimpse he’d gotten of Simon’s abs.

So, he was taken entirely surprised at Izzy’s half-shouted, “Stop!”

It was only after he’d obeyed on instinct that he saw the danger, saw a hint of Izzy’s manic smile reflected in the smirk Clary gave Simon.

“Look up,” Clary instructed.

Jace did, and then turned a flat stare on his sister. “Iz. Did you really get up before everyone else just so you could catch us under the mistletoe?”

“It’s not supposed to be for you,” Izzy said dismissively. “And Max was up before me, anyway.” Her grin grew. “But as long as you’re there.”

Jace glanced at Simon. They hadn’t actually talked about kissing since that brief, interrupted discussion in the cafe back in Boston, when Jace had promised to follow Simon’s lead. He hadn’t thought they’d end up under this kind of pressure, though, and the last thing he wanted was for Simon to feel like he didn’t have any other option than kissing Jace.

He turned back toward his sister. “Iz—”

His protest was interrupted by a pair of guitar-calloused hands cupping his face and drawing him into a gentle kiss. It barely lasted a second, not even long enough for Jace to really register it until it was already over, but Jace still missed the feel of Simon’s lips on his own as soon as it ended.

“All right,” Simon said. “We’ve satisfied your prurient interests, now tell me where to find coffee.”

“Big, brushed steel pot on the counter in the far right corner of the kitchen,” Izzy told him. “I’m glad at least you’re fun in the morning, even if Jace isn’t.”

“There’s still time for me to return your present, you know,” Jace told her.

“Nuh-uh. It’s Christmas, stores are all closed.”

“Are they always like this?” Simon asked Clary.

“Always,” she confirmed.

“No, they’re usually much worse,” Alec said as he and Magnus descended the stairs. “This is Iz and Jace on their best behavior.”

“Stick around long enough that they start thinking of you as family and the gloves will come off,” Magnus added with an exaggerated shudder.

Izzy didn’t even have a chance to point out the mistletoe before Alec was leaning in to give his fiancé a soft kiss. “You are family.”

Jace wasn’t sure they’d even noticed the mistletoe.

“Technically, not for another five months,” Magnus said. “Which reminds me, I need to call the florist back this week.”

“Already taken care of,” Alec assured him. “Even if I’m still not entirely clear on what a gladiolus is.”

“I only know that Scott Joplin wrote a rag named after them,” Simon said. “Which, I am realizing is completely beside the point. I’m going to go get that coffee.”

He turned to Jace. “You grab us some good seats, and I’ll bring you a cup.”

A few minutes later, everyone had a cup of coffee (even Max, although the cup Alec made for him was mostly milk and sugar), and Izzy had started a new pot brewing. Jace sipped his coffee contentedly as Simon gave an excited play-by-play of the winter concert to Clary, who apparently hadn’t heard the full story of the Great Harpsichord Mishap yet.

Jace, who had heard the story three times already, found his mind wandering back to that kiss. Which was stupid, because it wasn’t even that remarkable a kiss. Just a quick press of lips, really. Objectively speaking, he’d had better kisses. Many of them. It made no sense that he would be so hung up on this one, especially since it had clearly been no big deal to Simon. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about the soft warmth of Simon’s lips, the way the callouses on Simon’s fingertips caught just slightly on the stubble along his jawline.

Luke joined them not long after the fresh pot of coffee finished brewing, bypassing the mistletoe trap by virtue of having stayed in the guest room on the first floor.

“Mom is taking too long,” Max announced as Luke returned to the living room with his own mug of coffee. “We should wake her up.”

“Max,” Alec chastised.

“What happened to being twelve now, buddy?” Jace teased.

“I want to open presents before I turn thirteen,” Max answered flatly.

“Your mother was up late getting things ready for today,” Luke said. “You should let her sleep.”

Max gave him a long look, then rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his phone.

“And how exactly would you know Maryse was up late?” Clary asked with an obviously feigned innocent curiosity.

“Because I stayed up to help her,” Luke said, leveling his stepdaughter with a look that said that was the end of the conversation. Clary’s feigned innocence turned to a more obvious smirk, but she let it drop.

By the time Maryse made her way down the stairs almost an hour later, Max was practically vibrating with impatience, although he was clearly trying not to show it.

And so was Izzy, although she was far less obvious about it. At least until she gasped in faux shock, “Oh no, Mom! Looks like you’re standing right underneath some mistletoe. Guess you’re going to have to kiss someone.”

She and Clary turned expectant smiles toward Luke, who returned a flat look and an equally flat, “Really?”

“Isabelle,” Maryse said in the tone of voice that usually preceded a lecture, “it’s impolite to make assumptions about people’s personal lives, or to try to trick them into revealing personal details they might not be ready to share.”

Izzy had the grace to look chagrined. “Sorry, Mama.”

“You’re forgiven,” Maryse said. “See that it doesn’t happen again.” She turned to Luke. “Lucian, are you just going to sit there or are you going to get over here and kiss me good morning.”

Izzy clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her excited shriek as a laughing Luke walked over and let Maryse drag him into the sort of kiss Jace would never have expected her to give anyone in front of her children.

“Gross,” Max muttered. He had the sense not to say it loud enough for Maryse or Izzy to hear, but Jace kicked his foot and gave him a disapproving shake of his head.

“As you’ve probably gathered, and some of you clearly already guessed,” Maryse said, giving Izzy a pointed look, “Lucian and I have been seeing each other.” “

“We were planning to tell you after the holidays,” Luke added, “but I guess there’s no point in waiting now, is there?”

“We all kind of guessed,” Alec admitted. “And we couldn’t be happier for you.”

“You guys were pretty obvious,” Clary said.

“Super obvious,” Izzy agreed.

“Now can we open presents?” Max asked.

~~~

“Congratulations,” Jace said the next morning, as Simon was packing the last of his things back into his suitcase. “You survived an entire Lightwood Christmas celebration.”

“It was surprisingly less dramatic than I’d been led to believe it would be,” Simon said. “Except maybe the mistletoe thing. For a second there, I thought Luke was ready to strangle Clary.”

“Izzy’s the one he should be annoyed at,” Jace said. “I’m sure she talked Clary into helping her set that up.”

“Uh-uh, no way,” Simon insisted. “I know a Clary Fray plan when I see one, and that had her metaphorical fingerprints all over it.”

“Izzy’s too. I guess the rest of us will have to watch our backs with the two of them together.” He paused. “About the mistletoe thing. We’re okay, right?”

“Huh?” Simon threw him a confused glance. “Of course we are.” He frowned. “Unless... I didn’t overstep, did I? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know we never finished our discussion, and I didn’t even ask before I kissed you, I just thought—”

“Simon,” Jace interrupted. “It’s fine. I told you, I’m happy to follow your lead. I just wanted to make sure Iz and Clary didn’t pressure you into it. But as far as I’m concerned, you can kiss me whenever you want.”

For just an instant, Simon’s frown seemed to morph into something that was almost speculative, and Jace wondered if he’d given too much away. But it was gone so quickly he thought he might have imagined it, replaced by an easy smile.

“Cool. I’ll keep that in mind in case we get ambushed with any more mistletoe.”

It took Simon almost twenty minutes to get out the door once he made it downstairs. Clary wanted to nail down plans for getting together later in the week, and Max kept trying to convince Simon to stay a little longer and play the new video game they’d spent half the previous afternoon playing together.

“Max,” Jace said finally, “Simon needs to go spend time with his own family. If you want, I can play with you.”

Max considered him, then shook his head. “You haven’t got the combos down yet. You’re too easy to beat. But I guess I could teach you. If you want.”

“Sure,” Jace told him. “Why don’t you go get it set up while I help Simon take his stuff to the car.”

Max ran off without even bothering to say goodbye, and Jace shook his head. “I don’t know where that kid got his lack of manners.”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Simon said, giving him a pointed look. “But I can be magnanimous about it, since he recognizes my clear video game superiority.”

“One day on a new game does not a champion make,” Jace told him. “We’ll see who’s got video game superiority when we get back home.”

“I’ve got an even better idea,” Clary interjected. “What about a game of Land Mines at Magnus’s New Year’s Eve party? Me and Simon against you and Izzy.”

“Oh,” Simon said, throwing an uncertain look at Jace. “Magnus’s party?”

They hadn’t talked about the New Year’s Eve party. Jace had thought about inviting Simon, had thought about inviting him even before they’d agreed to play each other’s boyfriends, but he figured Simon already had plans with his own friends and family. And now, it seemed too much to ask if it meant Simon spending New Year’s Eve having to pretend to be his boyfriend.

“You are coming, right?” Clary asked, looking between Simon and Jace with clear concern. “We always spend New Year’s Eve together. Unless you guys made other plans?”

“No!” Simon said quickly, avoiding looking at Jace. “No, of course I’ll be there. Obviously. I’m just, you know, not sure kicking Jace’s ass at Land Mines is worth the hangover.”

“The part where you’re worried about your hangover means we’ve already won,” Jace said, hating the way that Simon wouldn’t look at him. He’d have to find a way to make this up to him. “Not that you’ve ever beat me at a drinking game.”

“That’s only because I don’t play them,” Simon said, finally meeting his eyes with a forced smile. “I’ve watched Maia and Lily both drink you under the table, though, so I think I’ve got a pretty good shot, especially with Fray on my team.”

“You only say that because you’ve never seen Iz drink,” Jace told him. “I’ve definitely got the advantage when it comes to partners.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Simon’s smile was less forced now, falling back into their usual banter.

“Uh huh,” Jace said, unimpressed. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Now get going before your mom decides she hates me for making you late before I even get the chance to meet her.”

“You’re cute and occasionally charming. She’ll love you,” Simon told him, but he picked up his bag anyway and started to head toward his van. Then he stopped and threw a quick glance at Clary, who still stood beside Jace in the doorway, before dropping his bag and strode the three steps back up to Jace to pull him into a kiss.

This kiss wasn’t fleeting like their kiss under the mistletoe had been. Jace had plenty of time to register what was happening as Simon’s mouth moved against his, enough time to relax into it. Enough time to get just a little lost and pull Simon closer.

When Simon pulled back from the kiss, he left behind the warmth of a sharp exhale against Jace’s lips. Jace opened his eyes to find Simon watching him with an unreadable expression.

“I’ll text you later,” Simon said.

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, hoping Simon couldn’t hear the faint unsteadiness in his voice.

“And I’ll see you,” Simon pointed at Clary, who Jace had momentarily forgotten was even there, “day after tomorrow.”

Right. Clary. That’s why Simon had kissed him. Because it would have been weird for him to leave without kissing his boyfriend goodbye. Jace stepped back, putting some much-needed space between the two of them.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Clary said.

Simon flashed Jace a quick smile before turning and taking his bag out to his van.

“Come on,” Clary said, linking her arm with Jace’s and tugging him back inside. “I need to go tell my girlfriend that I volunteered her to get trounced at Land Mines.”

“Please,” Jace said, doing his best to push everything that had just happened out of his mind. “You know you’re going to lose. Just admit it now and save yourself the embarrassment.”

[thebeautyofdisorder]

Dangerous Game ~ BBC Dracula, Gate Scene AU

@festering-queen Requested a “what if” scenario if Agatha stepped over the line a bit during the convent gate sequence, and Dracula was able to get his hands on her. This could have gone MANY different ways, and the first couple days of thinking about this were literally just me debating the many options I had on my hands, but this is what I settled on - hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: blood, threat of death, vampirism, nudity, you know - everything that applies normally to Drac

Word Count: 3,118

It happened in an instant, far quicker than she could react. For all his snarling and threats, Agatha had the vampire keening like a starving pup - helpless, angry, feral with hunger as her hand outstretched in an offering of her blood to his seeking tongue. She observed him with sudden calm appreciation as his eyelids hung heavy, feeling a fleeting swell of power that she nearly got to appreciate, even. But just as her grip lessened on the handle of the knife, prepared to drop it and back away and cease to taunt the beast while she was ahead of the game, those blackened eyes shot open and met hers with such mocking clarity that it halted her in her tracks, the triumph in her eyes faltering into sudden, heart-stopping dread. 

It was too late, then. Agatha was too close, she’d known it, and had trusted that in his blind desperation for sustenance that the Count wouldn’t take note. She had been very wrong. Without so much as a growl, his hand shot out and grabbed for the knife and her hand all in one grip of his gigantic fist, yanking her over the ephemeral threshold, her feet barely skimming the ground with no chance of catching traction. 

The screams and gasps from her sisters rose up behind her in chorus of panic, but even in all that chaos for a fraction of a second Dracula didn’t even acknowledge that he’d gotten the nun into his clutches, too occupied in using her hand as a vehicle to better press the sharpened steel to his tongue, licking it clean. It was only when she stepped back towards the “safety” of the iron gate and tried to yank herself free did she feel more than hear him chuckle in dark, mocking glee, and a gasp was torn from her throat, her world spinning as he pulled her into his grasp. Her back might as well have hit stone for all his bloodied chest gave on the impact that she felt rattle her own bones, both her upper arms suddenly constrained in a bruising grip. The knife lying useless on the ground near her feet, Agatha found herself forced to watch her sisters cower in terror and worse - look on her in pity.

“It seems fortune doesn’t always favor the brave, does it Sister?” He leered from behind and above her, grinning down at her in a manner that might have passed for charming had his teeth not been forged into sharp, jagged points. His breath smelled coppery and disturbingly sweet, and cringe from it though she did, for a strange, mad moment she almost wanted to ask him about it, before remembering that there were definitely more important things to worry about at the moment than understanding the vampiric anatomy. Currently the fact that she was forced very snugly against said anatomy and was probably about to die a very painful death for the luxury. 

His focus left her quickly though, watching over her shoulder as the Mother Superior tried to force a brave face, her short frame standing in front of the gaggle of girls as though she could actually forge a barrier between them and danger. All but her.

“Well? What’re you waiting for, ladies? Your sister’s been captured, you’re all ‘armed and ready.’ You outnumber me, clearly.”

“Honestly, they’re nuns not idiots,” Agatha scoffed at him, before addressing them directly - just in case, seeing some of them start to stir antsily. “Stay back!” 

“Come now. Not even one of you? What righteous warriors you make,” he continued to mock with disappointed laughter, laying out his lure as Agatha watched helplessly as her anxious sisters looked more unsure by the moment. 

“Isn’t that what that god of yours is always going on about - self-sacrifice for the greater good, defending the helpless, blah blah...blah. You are knights, you have your swords, the frightened princess is seconds away from being eaten…”

“Oh please,” Agatha mocked, turning her head to glance between his self-satisfied smirk and the faces of her friends in frank disbelief.

“Who’s going to slay the dragon?” Dracula challenged in that melodious whisper, tightening his hold on her visibly, causing her to hiss as what could only be described as claws began to dig into her flesh through the thin fabric of her habit. 

“Do not rise to his bait - he’s only trying to lure you out,” their matron, having gathered her wits, echoed her earlier sentiments, but with the authority to actually enforce them, and despite the sinking feeling in her gut, Agatha looked at her with genuine thanks as the girls began to slink back. She would not be the reason for their deaths, and that at least she could make peace with.

“Give it up, dragon - I’m the only nun you’re getting out of there tonight, so just kill me and get it over with,” she exclaimed stubbornly, turning her head to look up at him where he still stood behind her, watching the sisters retract with an exaggerated pout.

He laughed, throaty and low, turning her in his grasp to look her in the eye.

“Oh no one likes a martyr, Agatha - isn’t it?” he purred, and her eyes widened a margin at hearing her name on his lips.

“So you heard,” she persisted, squaring her jaw, not falling for any more of his intimidation tactics. How much worse could her circumstances really get, anyway? 

She was armed, as well, to be fair. The wooden stake was in her pocket, and if he would just not grip her arms so tightly, she might have been able to put up some kind of fight - but as though he genuinely could read her mind, his grip on her left arm tightened to the point of bruising while his hold on her right turned feather light and faltered as he shifted his hold from her upper arm to her wrist, pulling her palm up to his mouth. 

She had entirely forgotten she was still bleeding, but clearly the vampire had not, and the split flesh gave a sudden throb at the reminder, just before she felt him drag his tongue over the seeping wound, a hum of pleasure that was nothing short of obscene reverberating against her hand. She hissed, her fingers flinching in fruitless effort against his hold, though the sensation wasn’t exactly pain, even if it wasn’t far from it. It was a bizarre tingling that made her squirm, though there wasn’t anywhere to go. She cursed him under her breath in her native tongue and she was surprised to hear him chuckle, drawing back from her hand though he still held it aloft, never far from his lips.

“Ooh. You’re really not very good at this nun thing, are you, Agatha?” He asked mockingly, before looking up at the stars thoughtfully and licking his lips, her eyes drawn to watch his throat work and swallow in the firelight.  

“Agatha Van Helsing where in the world did you come from?”

“You seem to know everything else, why don’t you tell me?” She shot back bitterly, fighting off the panic in her voice. So that’s all it took, a few drops of blood and her inner workings were laid bare to his prying eyes? Frightening, sure, but mostly infuriating. 

“Holland, right?”

She glanced sideways at her sisters for a fleeting moment, and gave a nod to Mother Superior, hoping she would take his pre-occupation as a sign to begin to bring the other girls to safety, but she didn’t dare let her focus stray from the vampire long enough to watch.

“As I’m sure you heard in my accent. I know detectives that could volunteer twice that information in half the time. Surely you can tell me something more interesting than that.”

“Are you challenging me, Sister Agatha?” He asked, though despite the hint of a growl that still lingered in his voice, he looked wholly entertained by her open defiance despite the fact he could have killed her already. “You do enjoy dangerous games - you must be bored to tears in this place.”

“As though you don’t enjoy showing off,” she challenged dryly, looking him over with clear accusation, though her eyes didn’t stray past his chest before retreating upwards once more. “Come on. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Agatha watched as he took a moment to process what she could only assume were her own memories, seeing multiple small reactions flit over his features. She should've rightly tried to use this distraction to her advantage, feeling his grip on her lessen a hair - but she knew deep down it would just end in a quicker death for her in the end. She still wasn't sure if that would be her best option. 

Surely it was the most Catholic choice she could make - but if she were going to sacrifice herself "for the greater good" as he had so quaintly put it, now was not the time. Not when she could learn more, and not when she was so sure to fail any attempt she could make to destroy him or even save herself. 

Count Dracula's mouth suddenly broke into a wicked grin, ripping her from her thoughts. Not a good sign. 

"And? Still waiting." She pressed, impatiently. 

"Well, if it makes you feel better Agatha, your "training" might do your sisters some good after all," he stated musingly, watching a few of them retreat back within the walls of the convent, clearly unconcerned now with slowly but surely losing his audience. 

"And why is that?'

His brows rose as he looked down at her almost fondly. 

"Well, you left undead Johnny in the same room as his bleeding fiance, of course. I can't imagine his appetite taking long to surface. If you think I'm a fright when I'm hungry…"

Agatha had to fight back the urge curse again, if only because it would entertain him too greatly. Stupid stupid stupid…

"Jonathan Harker would sooner stake himself than harm Mina, you know that. Apparently it's all that moralistic willpower that made you so fond of him in the first place," Agatha dismissed him stubbornly. 

The Count sighed, looking over her head towards the upper level of the nunnery. 

"Mm. Truer words never spoken, I'm afraid - it'll distract him for a little while I suppose."

"What do you mean? Surely dying twice is enough," She asked, no longer hiding her concern. 

"Curious little thing, aren't you?" He mused, almost inwardly, using his hold on her to drag her further back from the gate, so they were standing far out of earshot from the other nuns and they could see the flickering light in the window where Agatha had last abandoned his 'bride'. He held her fast against him with one long arm while he pointed up at the window. She might’ve seen a shadow pass just below her eyeline, but she couldn’t be sure.

"He tried. And failed. The undead cannot commit suicide. Call it a curse, if you will. He'll be out for a little while, definitely wish he were dead, but unless little Mina drives the stake in herself, he will wake up and when he does...he will be weak and he will be hungry. Now if you trained your troops well enough, maybe they'll be prepared…"

His head tilted, studying her face, which she was sure was full of many things for him to appraise, hating herself for it but far too distracted by her own thoughts to mask them. If she didn’t know better, his smirk almost retained a hint of pity.

“Or perhaps Johnny will surprise us both, he is a lively one. Now - “ he immediately led off from his passive attempt at comfort, turning her in his grasp so quickly, Agatha wondered if he was really so unaware of his own power or if he was still delighting in showing it off to her alone.

“I would ask you to invite me in, but we both know very well even if I promise not to slaughter your family that you won’t. Even if it means a rabid infantile vampire may tear a few of them limb from limb, you are far too stubborn to ever do anything that I ask of you, nor would you believe any promises I make,” the vampire began, sizing her up seemingly as he spoke with a chuckle as mocking as it was appreciative. 

“Who would?”

“And threatening your inevitable death will get me nowhere, you religious types are always far too keen to sacrifice yourselves.”

“Trust me, Count Dracula, in comparison to hearing you babble nonsense for another half hour, it would hardly be a sacrifice,” Agatha spat out before she could help it, fruitlessly trying to create some distance between them despite his grip on her - she about cursed herself once more, but apparently instead of angering him, all she’d done is amuse him again. 

He’d let out a surprised laugh, melodious and loud, so she was sure the others would’ve heard it from downwind. Wonderful, now if she ever did get back (unlikely) she’d have ‘consorting with the devil’ to deal with - more than usual.

“Agatha Van Helsing, what am I going to do with you?” He breathed, and she realized with mounting dread that he really didn’t even know himself. 

“Honestly, you didn’t even have a plan when you showed up here, did you?” She couldn’t help but ask, furrowing her brows. Why was he so calm?  

“I typically don’t need one, but it seems you wanted to make it difficult for me,” he stated softly, the accusation clear in his eyes, though it was almost playful in nature now. 

Without the growling, bestial thing that had met her at the gate, she was just being held by a bloody, naked aristocrat staring down at her with a fondness that was completely foreign, and she found herself more disturbed by his approval than his threats. Those she had expected, this...she wasn’t sure how to navigate. 

“Do you think your sisters would be so brave without you? Should I find out?”

Even seeing that he was baiting her, Agatha knew there was literally nothing stopping him. He could kill her now, just to get her out of the way. Probably preferable, because otherwise he could just disable her. Knock her unconscious, break her leg, rip out of her tongue - whatever would stop her from stopping him. And the sad truth was that she didn’t know. Most of those girls were young, helpless things, just there for intimidation in numbers. They would crumple in the face of genuine threat, no matter how strong their belief or their wills. 

“Leave them alone, and I will come with you willingly.”

“Who says I want you to?” He returned too quickly, his face a mask of indifference, though the curiosity twinkling in his eyes was a dead give away to his intention. He just wanted to see how she would respond. To see if she would show desperation, or weakness. He was toying with her, just like she had toyed with him. God help her, for her sisters’ sake, she was going to have to let him. For now. 

“You have a long way to travel, Count Dracula. And while I’m sure you can manipulate Jonathan into doing whatever you like, having a half-crazed ‘infantile vampire’ in your charge for a long voyage would only draw attention to you and fail to provide you any sustenance. Besides, no one in there would be any use to you. Most of them have spent their entire existence locked within those walls. Their lives are hymns and prayers and chores and guilt and nothing else whatsoever. Take me and you might actually learn something.”

“Perhaps. But you would also try to kill me the first chance you get,” he accused in a whisper, that hint of wicked amusement still never leaving his voice. Apparently attempted murder was a novelty to for him.

“Are you saying that actually frightens you?” She accused, quirking an eyebrow, turning his challenge back on him.

“Careful,” Dracula warned, eyes narrowing as his grip on her tightened a hair, apparently capping his amusement at being called a coward, though he didn't disagree directly - information she decided to retain for later. If she would see later. 

He was silent for a long moment, enough to begin to worry her that he'd refuse her entirely. But slowly his lips twisted up into a satisfied, if resigned smirk, taking one last look up into that window before returning his focus to her fully. 

"You drive a hard bargain, Van Helsing, but I suppose you do have a point. The devout do always leave a bit of an...aftertaste." 

He let loose one of her arms, at least, though immediately reached up and pulled at the ties of the white fabric that was serving its purpose, blocking her throat from his view, yanking it and her wimple from her head in one swift motion, that pulled at her hair and made her yelp slightly. His lips twitched, but he seemed to choose not to acknowledge it. 

“But you nuns tend to draw a lot of attention in your own right, especially while unconscious…”

“I’m sorry?” she clarified irritably, still narrowing her eyes as she used her free hand to push her hair from her face. She considered using it to slap him with instead, but considering she would likely just end up with a broken hand for her trouble, she resisted the urge.

“Oh, I’m not going to have you straggling along behind me out in the mountains, Agatha, that would be positively uncouth. You understand…” he drawled, his gaze having dropped from her eyes and now locked onto the column of her throat with that same heavy-lidded intensity she saw at the gates. Feeling his large hand tracing her collarbone, she swallowed, forcing herself to be still as he loomed over her, now even more so than before it seemed. 

“How kind of you,” she snarked, though her words were no longer registering to him at all, and she watched in the lantern light as his eyes clouded with red once more, and those long, cold fingers curled around the base of her neck, making her shiver.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to make you last,” he assured her with finality, that bestial snarl thickening his voice once again, and the last thing she felt before sinking into a hazy sleep was the sting of sharp teeth sinking into her flesh, followed by that same tingling she’d felt earlier, until she felt nothing at all. 

------

I’m just going to tag all the people I normally tag when I make Dracula stuff, or anyone I think MIGHT want to see it based on your interests, feel free to ignore me if you’re disinterested. 

@hoefordarkness @allis143 @punk-courtesan @dracula-s-bride @charlesdances @chrsitophwaltz @vlladtepes @bellamortislife @fuukonomiko @serindiyoza @alma37 @profiler-in-courage @lamourcommecesttoujour @hyacinth-meadow @guardianbelle @lets-talk-about-claes-baby @claesbang @undead-notunreasonable @bangtheking @vissidarte213 @mood-adlock @onyxthevampire @the-sign-of-tea @feralstare @leah-halliwell92 @break-free-killer-queen @mephdcosplay @girlonfireice @chelsfic @imagineandimagine @the-last-legs-last-leg @moonwalkerkari @river-soul @drsherlockmoffat @dwacuwa-is-baby @mysticaltimemachinewench @hopipollahorror @beyond-antares @bloodspatteredprincess @pullthedamnlever @ss9slb @gatissed  @mitsukatsu @le-fay-87 @flyingleapdisco @desperatefrenchwriter @crowley-needs-a-hug @crazytxgradstudent @garlicbreakfast @kandomeresbitch

Okay, if I didn’t tag you it’s just because I got tired of scrolling my notes before I reached you, haaa. My bad. Or tumblr won’t allow me to tag you for some reason.

[awed-frog]

Hi, I hope this is ok to ask. I've seen some of your posts on Destiel and wondered when you left the fandom and why? It sounds like it was a long time ago? I ask because I saw so many people so certain about the outcome and then freak out when it ended badly, as it probably always would have. It just made me wonder what the red flags were for you. I saw them myself mainly from the reactions of fellow shippers attacking even those who agreed w/them, but that was very recent. What was it for you?

I don’t know exactly. 

I think I got fed up when the show started to get worse and worse, with tons of weird stuff, bad writing and plot holes and Dean and Cas being virtually strangers, at which point the atmosphere around Destiel-positive meta writers turned sort of messianic. Some people were acting like they *knew*, and they never apologized for getting stuff wrong. Instead, it was either ‘Wait until next week, this is a slow-burn’ or ‘I was actually right, it’s there in the magnificent subtextual clues you are too stupid to see’. There was always only one explanation, one *truth* only that specific person and their friends could uncover, and everyone who disagreed was yelled out of the circle. There was a gradual cleaning out of the tags until all ‘negativity’ (ie, all forms of criticism) were filtered out, and endless circle-jerky activities to reinforce the ‘right’ opinions. One good example of this is how surveys suddenly multiplied and how they all got the same kind of results - either because only some fans (the ‘right’ kind) cared enough to take part or because of actual manipulation (I once saw someone reblogging their survey like ‘Signal boost! This has too many [wrong] answers! We need more people with [right] opinions!!’. 

At the same time, I started getting more and more messages from people who were disappointed with the show but were afraid to speak out, or felt stupid for not ‘seeing’ and ‘understanding’ where the story was (allegedly) going. Finally, it got to a point where a single bad episode, and the endless ‘No, but you see?? This actually supports [right] opinion!’ posts that came with it would ruin my mood for an entire week. At that point, thank God, a few people both on tumblr and IRL stepped in and were like ‘Dude, wtf? Just get out’, so I did.

As for the dates, I joined tumblr around S10 and stopped watching during S13 (I think; I don’t even remember what S13 was about, so it’s hard to be sure).

I think the main reasons why I ignored those red flags for so long are:

The way social media are built, how you’re stuck inside your bubble, start getting addicted to the number of followers and likes and asks, feel *important* and *liked*, slowly learn to self-censor so you can fit in; and also the infinity scrolling, the activity log, the ‘Someone is wrong on the internet’ syndrome, hate mail and trolls and seeing friends and mutuals getting doxxed for wrongthink.

I was actively trying to drown. My life back then was a nightmare. Obsessing over a show was way better than being alone with my thoughts, and getting mad at some nobody on tumblr created the right amount of emotion to bury everything else. Looking back, it all seems idiotic. I knew it could happen, I’d read about it, I’d seen it happen IRL, and yet it still happened to me. It sounds stupid, but if you build yourself a cage to stay safe, you end up getting trapped.

I’m sure there are people who get to enjoy fandom in the right way - I even know some of them. They find friends, enjoy the content they see and create, can treat the whole thing as a harmless hobby. Personally, I find bubbles of any kind very bad for my life and my mental health, mostly because they’re inevitably dominated by those who spend a long time in there - generally extremists and weirdos. The option we now have to filter out opinions we don’t like - that’s how radicalizing works. It sounds overdramatic, but there’s a direct link between those fans who were so shocked by the SPN finale they’re now believing conspiracy theories and everyone else - the QAnon people, the anti-vaxxers, teenage gamers who’re sucked into the alt-right, unhappy Muslims recruited by ISIS - it’s always the same process. Talk often, talk loudly, talk with authority, cut people off other sources, make people feel special because they’re the only ones who understand and promise them the Good Thing is coming. Sometimes cult leaders know exactly what they’re doing; other times they’re just deluded, narcissistic, charismatic people with too much time on their hands who legit believe what they’re saying and don’t realize the damage they’re doing, but the playbook is exactly the same. When it comes to the SPN fandom, I heard many stories similar to mine, and I hope people who find themselves overgrieving after that awful finale will soon get their own ‘Dude, wtf? Just get out’ moment and take that advice. There’s a whole world out there, and it’s not half bad.

[whimperwoods]

Arms of the Enemy (D&D Whump) - 8

This is Part 8!

Here are part 1, part 2 , part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, and part 7!

Castor is a warlock, in service to the Great Old One and the Dark Emperor, in that order. Ed is a fighter, a knight and battle master in  the service of the True King of Lumenea. They have always been enemies.  In the space between the Old One and the Emperor, they might be able to become something else.

(Also Ed has emotions and Castor has a plan b.)

tw: panic attack (maybe?), tw: aftermath of torture, tw: feelings of shame and self-loathing, tw: brief suicidal ideation, tw: powerful mood swings, tw: Ed’s general bad time coping,

taglist: @redwingedwhump, @fanastywhump, @insanitywishes @bluebadgerwhump,@burtlederp, @newandfiguringitout, @kawhump

Side note: The d&d mechanics stuff is more a fun challenge for me than necessary for world-building, but I DO feel I should mention I only just realized warlocks get their spell slots back on a short rest and not only a long one? On the one hand I now understand why it’s an actually playable class, on the other hand, I have already established that Castor only gets his back on a long rest, so I’m beefing up all his invocations to compensate.

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

Castor felt deeply, deeply foolish. He was on the ceiling, but now both of them were visible and Amara was shouting “Hey,” and they were in big trouble. He muttered an invocation under his breath and flung a wave of magic behind him, slowing down everyone on the stairs, and kept running. Hopefully, it would take their pursuers longer to look up than it took him to get out of the line of sight of the stairs and up into some kind of dark corner.

<<Do you trust me?>> he asked Ed.

The other man was silent, his presence a mental weight against the edge of Castor’s awareness, but just as Castor was ducking into an embrasure and trying to keep both of them out of the dim light that seeped through the arrow loop inside, he got an answer.

*****

<<Do you trust me?>>

Ed wanted to vomit. Of course he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He couldn’t. But of course he did. He had to. He thought, all of a sudden, of his hand in the mage’s, last night. “Squeeze my hand if it’s ok to move you,” as if he’d had any choice then, as if he had any choice now. But he’d done it. He’d done it. A contract. It was done.

Ed was still trying to breathe when they stopped moving and he realized he hadn’t been focusing his eyes, hadn’t seen a thing as they slipped into a tiny space that, he realized a long moment later, was meant for an archer. Did he trust Castor?

<<Yes>> he answered, his voice a whisper even in their minds. His face flushed with shame. He was a disgrace. He was either lying or telling the truth and he didn’t know which was worse. Why had Castor asked him? Why was he pretending Ed got to decide? Ed had decided one thing, and now they were visible and hiding and he didn’t have any more plan than the warlock did.

He realized he was shaking, so hard he was sure Castor could feel it. They were visible. They were visible, and Castor had no plan because Castor was a planless idiot. But he had no plan, either, so apparently he was, too.

He could feel Castor’s presence in his mind even as the man stayed silent, a gentle pressure he could feel even though he suspected he shouldn’t, and it was almost comforting. His breathing eased slightly.

<<Ok>> Castor said, <<So, technically I can be a little bit invisible any time? Only a little bit invisible. And only in shadows. But the problem is it’s only me. So I’m gonna need to uh - well. This is the best place I could think of to leave you. It’s uh - it’s hidden, mostly, and it’s safer than the ground.>>

Ed instinctively tightened his arms around Castor’s neck and shoulders. <<No!>>

He could feel Castor almost-answer, could hear him almost-speak, and anger washed over him. His words came out hollow, ringing empty between their minds because the flood of emotion running through Ed was too big to fit into them.

<<No,>> he told the mage, <<No, you’re the one who brought me out here. You’re the one who started all this. You brought me out here. I could have been - could - have been - >> He knew what he could have been. He could have been dead, or much farther on his way to it, and he didn’t want to be dead, and he didn’t want to be dead, and he was still rambling in Castor’s mind in spite of himself.

<<It’s your fault I’m alive. It’s your fault I’m alive and not in my cell and they’re going to punish me for it. They’re going to punish me for it.>> His stomach felt cold and solid, and he wasn’t sure if he was afraid of his captors or himself, saying things he meant and didn’t mean and couldn’t mean. He was shaking. Oh gods, he was shaking.

<<They won’t.>> Castor’s voice was soft. Gentle. Ed only half heard it. <<They won’t. I have . . . things. There’s more I can do. I’ll be with you the whole time, if you’ll let me in. And I won’t let them hurt you. I’d been planning to hide you here in the fortress, but the game’s up for both of us so now we’re onto plan B and I’m getting you out of here. I just need you to hold on. I just have some things to steal first, and I’m the only one who can be invisible this way. And then I’ll be back. I promise.>>

Ed felt hot where he was angry and cold where he was afraid, and a great sucking tornadic hole in the middle, tearing him apart. Sir Edmond of Lumenea was not this. He was not so small. So afraid. So dependent. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. And he didn’t want to die. He couldn’t want to die. He wanted to be alive. He wanted to be alive.

Castor stood on the side of the wall and rearranged both of them awkwardly, laying Ed down on the tiny patch of floor and tucking his legs in as tightly as they would go. Ed almost cried out at the pain, but forced himself to hold it in, keeping the noise down to a soft grunt he had to hope no one heard under the chaos of low, slowed-down voices shouting several yards away.

Oh. Sounds. That was right. Sounds. Sounds. He hadn’t been listening to the head-sounds, and he had to not make real sounds. At least, he had to not make them here. <<Help me look out,>> he demanded, off topic and with his head still reeling dizzily, <<Help me see, I need to know where we are.>>

*****

Castor’s spine felt electric, prickling with the sense that something was wrong with Ed. He knelt on the wall, making the most of his spider climb as he adjusted himself within the tiny space to lay a hand on Ed’s cheek and turn the man’s face toward him. He looked deeply into the knight’s eyes, trying to pick apart what was fear and what was something else - whatever it was that wasn’t right.

Instead, he suddenly felt awash in a wave of confused emotions, fear and anger and despair flooding out of Ed and almost overwhelming him.

<<No,>> he said gently, trying to keep his voice even and not let on that he’d felt unasked-for reverberations that strong. <<Just stay. It’ll be ok. I promise.>>

The wave of anger that crashed across Castor’s mind was purer and clearly intentional, a mental shove that drove him backward in surprise, making him let go of Castor’s face and sit back into his heels.

<<So that’s it, then,>> Ed said bitterly, <<All that and in the end you think I’m useless. I can’t help. You don’t want me. You’re just going to leave me here with nothing like I’m useless.>>

This was so not the time for a big argument. Especially not when he remembered all the things that weren’t anger that he’d felt before Ed started lashing out.

Castor breathed deeply, centering himself, and then leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Ed’s, pushing as much calm, care, and intent through their mental link as he could. <<Ed, I’m coming back for you. I swear. I - I swear by my master, I’m coming back for you. I just can’t steal things with you on my back.>>

Ed shuddered underneath him, another reverberation from Ed’s mind washing over Castor’s again, the same confusing blend, but with the anger leaking out, leaving a flash of cold and sorrow before it faded away again.

The knight’s hand wrapped around Castor’s wrist. <<Let me help you. I just need a view of what’s below us. And an idea where you’re going.>> His voice was sad, now, thrumming with something that hurt to listen to.

<<Alright,>> he answered, not sure he had any other real option, against that kind of hurt. <<But we have to be careful.>>

<<Alright,>> Ed agreed.

Getting a good peek outward took some doing, but they managed, and Castor was surprised to hear a loud clattering noise a good distance away from their hiding place. Their pursuers were still slowed, but barely, the spell on the edge of running out. It was a relief to hear the people below shout slowly about following the noise. He pulled Ed back into their arrow loop.

<<There.>> Ed sounded exhausted. <<Done.>>

Castor didn’t know what to make of that. He didn’t know what to make of any of this, really. Any time he tried to think it through, things all got tangled, both because this was complicate and because he never seemed to be able to get a bead on Ed’s mind, or perhaps his feelings. <<Thanks,>> he answered, after a moment’s adjusting to what had happened.

<<I'm, uh. I’m a little bit magic.>> Ed was starting to sound more himself, and Castor wasn’t sure if it was because of or in spite of his clear exhaustion. Either way, it was a relief, if a small one.

<<I noticed.>> Castor wasn’t sure whether he should ask about it or not, but he was sure he needed to get his supplies and get them out of here, so he saved the question for later.

<<Sorry about not mentioning before,>> Ed added.

<<Well, at least I know you have that trick if something happens. And I can keep an eye on this place while I’m gone, if you’ll let me.>>

<<What do you mean?>>

Castor found himself suddenly unable to look the knight in the eyes. <<If you’ll let me, I can see and hear what you see and hear. As long as we keep the link going, I can blink out of my own senses and into yours. It’s uh - I don’t do it a ton. But I can check in every couple of minutes to make sure you’re still alright.>>

A twinge of surprise pulsed through their mental link and Castor wondered, passively, whether their unusually strong link might mean some day Ed could look through his eyes, too. The surprise backed off into silence, but Castor let Ed think through it, just listening to the footsteps below and waiting for an answer.

<<Yeah, alright,>> the knight finally said, <<How do I know when you turn it back off?>>

<<I dunno. But we both have to be willing for it to work. So if you don’t want me to see what you see, you can shut me out. I just won’t be able to reopen from a distance so if you do that before I get back, I won’t be able to get to you unless you’re still here.>>

<<Got it.>>

<<I have to touch you.>>

The knight’s fingers wrapped around Castor’s wrist again. <<Done.>>

Castor twisted his arm until he could hold Ed’s wrist, too. Then he focused on the half-prayer that would open the link, whispering the invocation under his breath as quietly as he could.

*****

Ed had expected to feel it when the connection between the two of them changed, but instead he was alerted to it working by a deep gasp from Castor. The mage let go of Ed’s arm and slapped his hand over his own mouth to keep from crying out, and when his voice started up in Ed’s head, it sounded tense and pained.

<<I’ve got your skin, too. The senses of it, I mean. Touch. I’ve got your sense of touch. Gods.>>

The hand Castor had against the wall, stabilizing his disorienting sideways kneel, was quaking faintly, and when he moved the other hand away from his mouth, it was shaking much harder, shaking visibly, like Ed was sure his own did, these days.

For a moment, he felt pity for the mage, but then a wave of anger came behind it. Why should he feel bad? Why should he pity a man for suddenly sharing in the pain of what his own people had done? Why should he feel bad for his old enemy when he’d never asked him to climb into his mind and body, when he’d never asked for any of this.

Pity and anger warred in his chest as he listened to Castor’s body take deep, gasping breaths, like he was trying to steady himself against the pain.

<<Sorry,>> the mage gasped again, <<Sorry, I didn’t mean to - fuck. I think while I’m in there - we both have to calm down together. I can feel your heart racing in there. That’s. I’m not. It’s just supposed to be sight and sound. It’s. I hate it. I see me but don’t feel me. That’s new. Fuck.>>

Ed timed his breaths to Castor’s body’s breathing, feeling his tangle of emotions start to fade again, unsustainable. He was tired. Gods, he was tired. They’d only just woken up and come here and he was already so tired. Slowing his breaths just made it harder to fight it, harder to focus on anything but the pain and the exhaustion and his presence in his own body.

<<Ok,>> Castor said, <<Ok. Ok. Back in a moment. Gotta make sure it works.>>

He hadn’t felt Castor get closer before, but now he felt him leave, the feeling of surprise he hadn’t realized was coming from Castor easing and the mage’s voice quieting just slightly as he rambled more <<Ok. Alright. Ok>>s.

Castor’s return was announced by another deep, pained gasp of air from the mage’s body, but this time Ed felt Castor’s presence solidifying in his mind.

He felt no particular sensation that told him Castor was on his left side, but sensed it somehow regardless, moving his right hand almost instinctively to clasp his own left shoulder comfortingly.

<<Oh,>> Castor whispered, right there and so, so quiet, <<Oh, Ed. I’m. I knew, but - I didn’t.>>

Something about this, about holding his own shoulder to touch Castor, about the half-daze of knowing things he couldn’t know, sensing things that weren’t there, cut through him to the core. <<I need you to come back soon,>> he answered the mage, <<I need you. I can’t stay here. It’s too small. It hurts. We have to go.>>

Castor moved fast this time, out of Ed’s mind and into his own body again before Ed had finished realizing what he’d said. A moment later, Ed had processed the fact that he’d begged and not begged, said what he shouldn’t and meant it and felt nothing bad in the moment of it, and Castor’s hand came down gently to rest over his own, warm and comforting.

<<I know. I’m sorry. I’ll go. I won’t be long. Just stay quiet, and the moment I sense any trouble, I’ll come to you instead of the mission. I’ll be checking back in. I’ll be - I’ll be checking.>>

Ed couldn’t possibly answer. He couldn’t. Something had broken open again, something real was obvious and aching and right there in the open where Castor couldn’t miss it. He shoved against the other man’s presence in their little arrow loop, but he knew without asking that whatever his mind or heart or soul had managed of a shove hid nothing of the whatever-it-was this extra closeness had cut its way down to.

Castor straightened up, peeked around the edge of the embrasure, and hurried outside and away, into the shadows where he’d be invisible, apparently.

Ed laid where he’d been left, feeling like a crab cracked open, the meat inside exposed to the open air. It ached, but it was a good ache, and he didn’t have the energy to hate it. Tears slipped from his eyes and he didn’t stop them, letting them flow silently down his cheeks and leaving alone the question of where they were coming from. It was dangerous, with him like this. Too dangerous. He breathed, and cried, and wondered when he’d feel Castor’s mind drawing closer again.

*****

Castor’s body ached faintly in all the places Ed hurt, a ghost of the way it felt to look through the man’s eyes. It wouldn’t let Castor go. He moved as fast as he could without alerting anyone, the ache lingering somewhere underneath the skin it didn’t belong to. He moved. Shadow. Shadow. Ache. He planned each move as he made the one before it, hurrying from shadow to shadow, where he’d be invisible, disappearing into the blind spots of the universe. He needed to hurry.

Lost in the shadows, he ached.

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Tabaco y Brea part 4

Pairing:Javier Peña x f! reader

Rating:T? IDK WHAT THE RATINGS ARE

Words: 2.0k

A/N:enjoy this because everything gets intende after

Warnings: eating? swearing, banter, use of the word gringo, fluff. If you think I'm missing something let me know.

Summary: soft moment between the boys and reader.

Part one part two part three

Connie must be a saint if she has put up with this idiot for years.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

This is probably the tenth time you ask Steve this, but judging by how he fidgets with his hands and rolls his marriage ring every single time, he's not sure about his answer, even though it's always the same. You can see his nervousness as he sits in front of your desk again.

"I've told you I am! Could you quit it already?"

To say your relationship with him developed a lot in the last few weeks is an understatement. You started to like him the second he helped you with paperwork but now that you know him more you realize he's a perfect balance that you and Javier needed. He's as crazy as you are, maybe even more, but at least he doesn't get to screaming match with either of you two.

Not yet, at least.

Your partner doesn't seem to have accepted him completely still. Every time you're working on your desk with Murphy, Javier huffs and rolls his eyes. Each time you try and include him in your new dynamic, he waves it off and says he has "better things to do". He narrows his eyes and presses his lips together when the two of you laugh about some idiot joke Steve said and a voice at the back of your head tells you it has something to do with the things Helena said to you, but you shrug it off. Diving too deep into those thoughts will only make things worse.

Despite this, you and Javier haven't fought so much the last couple of days, Steve interfering when things start to get heated. He stands between the two desks holding his arms up towards each of you as if either of you were about to jump the other. It's a funny visual, needless to say. He's the tallest of the three, so he towers above your heads and tries to calm you down.

Despite this, you can't help being a little protective over him. 

"Steve, we're going undercover, not shooting our way in"

He's a little hotheaded himself, that much you've realized from the stories he has told you about his job in Miami. And you may be quick to go into fight mode, but only when you see there's no other option. Javier, surprisingly, is the calmest. Who would've thought?

Steve groans, exasperated. He lets his head fall back and grabs at his hair, pulling slightly. Javier snickers at his reaction.

"Relax gringo, she's just pushing your buttons"

Well, he's not entirely wrong. Steve lifts his head to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You give him a sheepish smile and shrug.

"I might be, but your Spanish is shit and we need to speak a lot in it for this mission"

At that, Javi loses it, throws his head back laughing and grabs his belly with both hands, stamping his feet at the floor. You snort, trying not to laugh at the offended look Steve is giving you, his cheeks red with embarrassment and his arms crossed over his chest.

A glint of mischief appears in his eyes accompanied by a half sided grin.

"I will be staying at the hotel, remember? You and Javi are going to the dance club"

Javi doesn't seem to give a shit about his comment and keeps laughing his ass off. 

You're  not sure if Steve had realized about your feelings, he hadn't said anything directly to you yet. He made comments insinuating it, teased you about the "lust-filled" eyes you'd give Javi in the middle of an argument, but he had never asked you or mentioned it straight up. If he had, you couldn't help but think how ironic it was that everyone that got semi-close to your relationship could figure it out so quickly and Javi hadn't in the nearly two years you've been partners.

You feign annoyance by letting out a groan and hitting your head with your desk, but the truth is a knot makes its way in your stomach at the mere thought of going to a dance club with Javi.

"He doesn't even know how to dance!"

"Hey! I do know how to dance!"

He does, you just like teasing him about it. He demonstrated his skills pretty well at your first year's Christmas party, with one of the good-looking girls that the soldiers from the academy invited. It was an initiation of sorts for both of you, at one of the officers' houses close to the base. After dancing with almost all of the girls there, the soldiers dared Javi to take shots of Aguardiente and he was too happy to accept. Hours later, he was sick as fuck and spent the night throwing up at the communal bathroom. He woke you up as he started dry heaving, and you stayed with him until the sickness passed and took him to his room, all sweaty and green. You don't think he remembers a single moment of it.

Steve shakes his head, smiling. You smile too.

"Yeah, two-step, you good Texan boy. That doesn't come in handy this time though"

Javi gives him the finger by way of answer. You break down in laugher, covering your mouth to lower the noise. Javi may be skeptical about Murphy, but they banter like an old married couple already. At least their dynamic isn't as explosive as yours, theirs is easier going.

"You're gonna enjoy yourself one way or another Bera, don't play dumb" Javi says, amusement dripping from his voice. You shrug with a barely concealed grin in your face. Steve frowns at you.

"What do you mean?"

Javi turns to look at him, shaking his hands in front of his face.

"She goes there every weekend she can!" he raises his arms over his head and you have to bite your lip to not start laughing again "She takes the bus on Friday night, which is a 7 fucking hours long trip and stays there until Sunday night and leaves for another 7 hours long trip. And she goes to the salsa clubs, so she's familiar with the zone"

Steve looks at you with disbelief plaguing his eyes. You smile cheekily and extend your hand towards him. He grabs it and you pull him forward, making him bend over the desk and get closer to your space.

"If you saw the way they move Miami" you whisper, "you'd understand why I flee from here every chance I get"

Salsa in Cali is different from any other place you've been in. They move more the half down part of the body, they dance faster than others, sexier. Not for nothing they have the Cali Fair in December, where many salsa artists start their career. 

Javi clears his throat and you let go of Steve immediately, blushing. He frowns at Steve and he just sits back down in front of you, adjusting his shirt. Thank God he didn't use suit every day, you hated when every agent wore one. The three of you stuck with jeans and t-shirts. Steve was apparently the polo shirt kind of guy, which was fine by you. Bogotá was mostly a mild weather city, but this time of the year was the worst.

"So what's the plan again?" Javi asks. He had been distracted since you came back, and you understand why. The whole issue with Helena was not something he would forget easily, though after you helped him everything went smoother and she acquired the visa request pretty quickly. 

You extend your hands in your desk and do a show of being done with his attitude, but he knows it's just to bother him. 

"We're supposed to arrive and book rooms for one night." Steve frowns, seemingly not liking that idea "the club is close, so we will have to set up the base there and communicate with you through walkie talkies. If anything goes sideways," you point at Murphy, "you have to act the fuck up and run to save us" He chuckles.

"You make it sound so easy" Javier sighs. You wish Murphy could go with you, but unfortunately, the new Siboney Club doesn't let any man or woman that goes alone inside, and you can't go with him instead of Javi, he would stand out like a sore thumb. The club is not so far from the Comuna 3, and you're guessing that has something to do with why they're meeting there. Murphy will be 6 minutes away, so everything must be okay with him and the other soldiers as back up if anything goes wrong.

You hope it doesn't. 

"You want some?" Javi asks as he extends you a wrapped bundle of meat empanadas. He had left to go to Salomé earlier, returning with a sour look and bags of food hanging from his arms.You figured he had stumbled upon Alexander, Cata's grandson, whom he doesn't like one bit. He didn't say anything but came into the room mumbling under his breath about a"stupid pretty spoiled bratt". 

"Give them to me!" You shout as you jump to grab them. Both men laugh as you move all the papers and unwrap them in your desk. You probably shouldn't be eating there, the smell will spread all over the office and you'll have to deal with it all day.

You stop caring as you take the first bite. Steve gives you a funny look, his eyebrow raised. Then you realize he most likely has never had one and shove the bundle towards him.

"Pick one," you say, grinning at him. "And I assure you life will be different from now on"

He looks at you, doubtful, but grabs one nothingless. Javi stares at everything with amusement glinting in his eyes. His chest fills with warmth every time you get enthusiastic for something as simple as food. Every day he hopes you will stay that way, untainted by all the shit you have to go through in this job, and tries to take the hits himself.

As Steve takes the first bite, you can practically see sparks fly from his body, licking his lips as he represses a groan.

"This is fucking great" he says once he swallows. You pump your fist in the air.

"Of course it fucking does. It's Colombia, Murphy, live a little and try new things."

He bows to listen to you. Javi can already picture how you're gonna get him to try the craziest things just as you got him too. Mild jealousy invades him, but he shrugs it off.

You start eating, letting out obscene sounds at every bite you take. Heat rises from his chest and he turns around to read the reports you last wrote and check everything's fine. He can't concentrate though, his mind wandering to places he shouldn't allow at every groan you make.

Steve stands up from his chair, leaning over your food and extending his hand to take another one. You bat his hand away and pull the bundle closer to you.

"Give me more!" He demands, pushing your arms away. With quick reflexes, you wrap them up again and throw them to Javi, and he catches it mid air with an amused smile playing at his lips.

"Leave my food alone!"

"You have to share!"

"Go buy your own!"

You wrap yourselves in an easy banter about food, Javi chuckling from his desk as he looks at the two of you. The way you act so loose around Steve sets him on his nerves, but he's willing to try and accept this if it means you'll have an easier time around here. 

"Leave her alone Murphy" he finally says, command evident in his voice. Both of you turn to look at him, and you smile as he gets uncomfortable from the power of both your stares. Despite this, he doesn't yield.

Steve falls back into his chair without looking away. Now, Javi grabs the bag again and hands him a different bundle of empanadas.

"I figured she would want you to taste them," he says, nonchalant. Stunned, you take your own food as he hands them back to you and returns to read the reports.

You turn to look at Murphy with your mouth open. He only smiles and winks at you.

Now he's sure he understands what the thing between you two is about.

----

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