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noladyme · 3 years

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La Cuervo - Chapter 1

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, assault, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming" - though in a different universe (I couldn't screw with Jax and Cat's happy ever after) - this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive.

It was an especially hot day for a bike-ride. The man in front of her on the bike might have been used to these trips, doing them often and in leather no less; but Nina was beginning to feel like a rotisserie chicken under the scorching sun. She was wearing jeans and a jacket over a tank top, knowing from experience that road-rash was especially shitty, when you went down without anything covering your skin. She sighed heavily, and tried to shift in her seat. “We’re almost there, luv’”, Filip called out over his shoulder, his voice barely audible over the roars of the engines behind them. “Uh huh…”, Nina replied, and couldn’t help but dream of air-condition and shade. Her backpack was heavy on her shoulders, in spite of the fact that she hadn’t brought much with her; just clothes, and a book or three. Filip patted her thigh comfortingly and sped up, probably as eager as she was to get this ride over with; though she knew that neither of them were looking forward to reaching their end destination.

She hadn’t gone on this trip willingly, but there had been no other option. Her chosen family had made it clear; she needed to disappear, and keep her head down. Going south was the best option for now, as she’d be out of Charming, but not so far away that they wouldn’t be able to reach her if needed. They were trying to keep her safe, even if safety currently meant being roasted alive on the back of a motorcycle, by the southern California sun. Looking back at their companions, both Happy, Tig and T.O. smiled at her. She forced herself to smile back, and was happy she was wearing sunglasses, as she knew the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was feeling quite a bit overwhelmed by the situation.

Nina used to love riding on the back of Jackson's bike when she was younger, would squeal in excitement when he made sharp turns, and went over bumps. He’d given her the first helmet she’d ever owned. Now, she wore his own helmet. The one he’d not put on, on his last ride. After what had happened – the choices Jax made that had led him to colliding with that truck, and killing himself, on the same highway his father had died on years earlier – bikes were merely a means of transport, and the thrill of rushing down a road on one, was gone. She wasn’t afraid of them by any means, she just didn’t get any joy from them anymore.

Just as she had convinced herself she was literally about to melt together with the seat, Filip finally turned down a gravelly road, and slowed down to a halt. In the distance she saw a group of men on bikes, driving towards the murder of crows she’d travelling with up until now. “You remember what we talked about?”, Filip said. “Yeah, but I don’t get it. Don’t you trust these people?”, Nina asked, and pulled down the scarf she’d used to cover her mouth and nose from road-dust. “We do, and you can as well; but this thing you’ve got yourself caught up in, is complicated”, he replied. “Alvarez, the president and his VP knows everything, but they don’t want to get tangled up in it more than necessary. If you find yourself talking to anyone else, all you say is…”. “I’m in need of a fresh start after a bad break-up”, Nina sneered. “I know. Fucking damsel in distress…”. Filip squeezed her knee. “We’ll be in touch, luv’. Promise… You’ll be back home in Charming before you know it”. “Yeah… home”, Nina muttered, and used his shoulders as support, as she got off the Harley.

Stretching her back, she felt a tap on her butt from a familiar hand. “How are you feeling, princess?”, Happy asked. ”I feel like I did, after that time I won the mechanical bull-riding competition, at Tig’s birthday party”, Nina chuckled, and pulled at her jeans, to get them in place between her thighs. The curly-haired biker in question joined them, with a grin on his face. “Yeah, that was a beautiful!”, he exclaimed. “Well worth the 500 bucks I spent on renting that thing”. “You didn’t pay for that shit”, Filip said. “Screw you, Chibs”, Tig said, with jest in his voice.

Nina took off her sunglasses and helmet; and looked towards the arriving bikers. Two men on road kings – handlebars as high as the sky – led the incoming group. Nina recognized Alvarez right away, having seen him a few times at club parties. The other man she figured was the president of the South California Mayans. Behind them, came a group of bikers, in a caravan formed much like the one she’d ridden in with; arranged by status. She made short eye-contact with a bearded biker somewhere in the middle of the group. He had dark and intense eyes, and his lips twitched into a smile, just before she looked down at the ground. “Stay by the bikes”, Filip said, and squeezed her hand. The gravity of the situation and the dust from the road was beginning to get to her, so she grabbed her inhaler, and took a discrete hit from it; before putting it back in her pocket.

Alvarez and Bishop got off their own bikes, and the bikers behind them halted as well. Filip spread out his arms congenially. “Hola, señors!”, he hollered, and walked up to the other group. Nina cringed at his exclamation. T.O. came up behind her, and patted her shoulder. “Some things never change in this world, kid”, he muttered. “You’d think people would learn… evolve”, she replied. “You think letting brothers in to the club was just gonna magically make Scottie and the rest of them stop being idiot white-boys?”, T.O. chuckled. “Nah. This is as good as it gets. Let’s just hope the next generation does better”. He raised an eyebrow meaningfully at Nina. “You’ll let me know if Wendy is in touch, right?”, she asked. “You know we will”. “Thank you…”, she whispered. T.O. nodded solemnly.

“Englishman…”, Alvarez smirked, and reached out his hand to the SAMCRO-president. “Like a bullet to my Scottish heart”, Filip said, and took his hand; pulling him in for a friendly hug. He greeted Bishop in the same manner, and Happy, Tig and T.O. followed suit. “You have our merchandise?”, Bishop said. He was a short and serious looking man, but he didn’t seem as menacing as she��d expect a Mayan president to be. “Straight to the point, then…”, Filip said. “Yes, we brought your merchandise; as much as we could carry. The rest will be here in a van in two days. You get your discount as promised, as payment; and in return…” Bishop glanced towards Nina. “We got you”, he muttered, and patted Filip’s shoulder.

Nina swallowed thickly as the Mayan president approached her. “Obispo Losa. Bishop”, he said, and reached out his hand. “You must be Nina…”. “Just Nina”, she replied quickly, and shook his hand. Bishop nodded. “You’re going with us to Santo Padre. We have a trailer set up at our compound. My prospect uses it normally, but we’ll kick him out for the time being… Just until we figure something else out for you”. Nina felt her cheeks burning. “You don’t need to do that. I don’t want anyone on the street on my account”. “He’ll be fine”, Bishop said quietly. Nina shuddered suddenly, feeling the weight of the situation wash over her. Seeing her expression, Bishop put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be safe with us”. “Ok”, Nina muttered. “Thank you”. A smile ghosted the man’s face, and he nodded towards Filip.

The two groups of bikers finally merged, and greetings were shared, before some bedrolls were spread out on the ground. Guns of different types were hidden in pockets of the fabric, and Nina sighed deeply; looking away, as if doing so would protect her from the truth of what was going on. The bearded biker walked up to Bishop. No longer on his bike, he was strikingly tall, and admittedly handsome as hell. A shorter Mayan, slim and looking a little jumpy; and a friendly looking prospect joined them. “Should the girl be seeing this?”, the tall one muttered to Bishop. “The lady is as trustworthy as they come, amigo”, Filip said. The biker raised a brow at him. “Well, okey dokey, Robert the Bruce”, he said. “You know who Robert the Bruce is?”, the prospect asked. “I got my GED, bro”, the tall one replied. The prospect chuckled quietly. “Cool it, Angel”, Bishop said. “She’s coming with”. “What, she’s like part of the merchandise? Since when do we deal in trafficking?”, the slim one asked, and gave her a confused once over. Nina drew her lips back in a sneer. “Fuck you, asshole!”, she hissed. The biker frowned at her. “That’s Coco to you, ma’”, he grunted. “Who are you?”.

Bishop went to stand next to her, and nodded at Filip once again; as if saying it’s ok, I got this. “This is Nina. Just Nina. She’s the package we’re taking care of for a while”. “La cuervo is the package?”, the biker he’d called Angel said, letting his eyes trace her form with a pleased expression. “Not the kind of package I’d expected”. “Crow or not, we’re setting her up in the trailer at the yard”, Bishop said. “Prospect, you gotta take a hike for a bit”. The prospect sighed, and nodded; making Nina feel guilty beyond belief. “Really, I can…”. “You’re safer at the compound”, Filip muttered quietly.

“Time to say goodbye, man”, Alvarez said. “We saw cops a few miles out. Need to move”. Nina instantly felt her heart fall to her stomach, as the bikers rolled up the bedrolls, and began reloading the bikes, with the Mayans taking over the guns; and from now on, her. She turned to face the men she’d arrived with. “Fuck…”, she sighed. Filip pulled her in for a tight hug. “You’ll be fine, luv’. It’s just until this thing blows over, to keep you out of sight. Treat it like a holiday; enjoy the desert sun, relax…”. He looked towards the Mayans observing them. “And try not to end up losing your panties at another biker-party”. Nina pulled back, and punched his shoulder. “That happened one time!”, she muttered. She noticed Angel and the shorter biker, Coco, smirking at each other, from the corner of her eye. “And we had to kick that prospect’s ass for it. He was never the same”, Tig said, pulling at her arm, to take over from Filip, and give her a hug. “Don’t offer to cook. They might think we sent you to poison them”. “Kiss my ass, Trager”, Nina scowled, and kissed his cheek. “I love you too, kid”. Squeezing Tig tightly, Nina then let herself get enveloped in Happy’s arms. “You got your .38?”, he asked. “In my jacket pocket”, she sighed. “And your inhaler?”, Happy added. “The other pocket. With my cigarettes”, Nina muttered. “Good girl”, Tig said from behind Happy. “Maybe take the time to quit smoking as well; huh, sweetheart?”. She gave him a crooked smile, as he lit up a cigarette himself. “Anyone messes with you, call us. I’ll carve their eyes out”, Happy said, and kissed the top of her head. She noticed a stray tear in his left eye. “Allergies…”, he grunted, and wiped it away quickly. T.O. gave her a quick squeeze as well.

She turned towards Filip again. “I love you, little sister. Say hi to Chucky from us, ok?”, he said. She nodded, and her mood brightened slightly when she was reminded of the fact that there would be at least one person that she knew, where she was going. Even if he was a weird, chronic masturbator, without fingers. Filip kissed the corner of her lips. “Now go… We’ll be in touch if anything comes up, yeah?”. Nina nodded. Filip looked towards Bishop again. “I’m trusting you with someone very special, here”, he said. “You have my word. She’ll be treated like family”, Bishop assured him.

SAMCRO got back on their bikes, after Bishop had handed them an envelope with a wad of cash inside. “Do not let this woman near any tequila, fellas”, Filip said as a parting comment. “Not unless she’s got her underwear superglued on”. “Fuck you, Filip”, Nina smiled embarrassedly. With a final wave at her, they started their engines, and rode off, leaving her behind with a group of strangers she was supposed to trust with her life and secret from now on. She forced her mind to go blank, to avoid tears, and to be able to focus on the ride ahead.

“You ride with the prospect”, Bishop said. “I’d offer you the ride myself, but Marcus and I have another meeting, so we’ll be splitting up about 20 miles from here. Taza will lead the group taking you back to the compound”. He gestured towards a long haired, serious looking biker, with a Vice President patch on his cut. The prospect walked over to her, and reached out his hand. “EZ…”, he said, and smiled congenially. Nina took his hand, and shook it. Angel eyed her with an undefinable expression; when he called out to Bishop. “Yo, jefe. The prospect is a shit driver with a passenger. Maybe she should ride with someone else”. EZ scoffed at him. Bishop narrowed his eyes at Angel, before replying. “Yeah, ok. Nina, go with Coco”. Angel looked disgruntled, but didn’t say anything. Nina put her backpack on, and was about to walk over to Coco, when Bishop grabbed her arm to halt her; giving Angel a look out the corner of his eye. “I’d rethink that superglue, sweetheart”, he said, a slight smile ghosting his face. “I’ll be fine. Word around Charming is I got mace spraying out of my nipples, when my bra comes off”, Nina replied. A murmur of laughter went through the group, and she put on her helmet again, before walking over to her new chauffeur.

Scooting forwards a bit, Coco let her use his shoulders for support, as she got on his bike behind him. “Hold on tight, niña”, he said. “It’s Nina. And I’ll be fine”, she replied, and put her hands on his waist. He grabbed her hands, and pulled her arms all the way around him. “These ain’t no sports bikes”, Angel said, and Coco started up the bike. The roar of the engine made Nina jump slightly, and she noticed Angel had a gleeful smirk on his face. “Told you”, Coco laughed triumphantly.

The bike didn’t have an actual pillion-seat, so to sit comfortably, Nina had to sit closer to Coco than what she was used to with other riders. Angel drove along-side them. The exhaust of the bikes in front of them and the dust from the road hit her nose, and she was about to let go of Coco with one hand, to lift the scarf over her mouth and nose again. He slowed down, and grabbed her wrist. “Told you to hold on!”, he exclaimed. “I know how to ride bitch”, she replied. “Is that what SOA calls it?”, Angel asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of the engines. “I prefer the term riding queen”. “Bullshit”, Coco cried out with a grin on his face. Angel shook his head, and laughed. “Yo, who’s crow you got, ma?”. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Nina said. “Which SAMCRO-member is your old man?”, Angel reiterated, making clear his Coco’s meaning. She shook her head, and didn’t reply. “Just trying to figure out how precious the cargo is", Angel said, and sped up the bike again, letting Coco and her pull in behind him.

Bishop, Alvarez, and a few of the Mayans Nina hadn’t been introduced to yet, pulled off the highway after a few more miles; and Taza took the lead of their caravan. They were silent for the rest of the ride.

---

Santo Padre seemed like worlds away from home. The smells and sounds were so different from what she was used to. Charming was full of middle-class, small-town people who all looked reverently at the patches usually going through town; and everyone knew everyone. Nina noticed some of the residents of Santo Padre nodding at them as they passed; but theirs weren’t the same respectful gazes. The Mayans didn’t have the same history with the area, as SOA had in Charming; and were still building their reputation here. She felt like an alien in a strange world.

They pulled down a smaller road, just outside town, and were met by a large gate; which – after a holler from Taza – was opened by a pretty teenage girl. Coco slowed down to almost a halt, and looked at her. “You’re supposed to be at school, mija”, he said. “Gym-class… But I got cramps”, she replied. “That’s a bad excuse”, Angel said, having pulled up next to them. “What do you know about that? You got a uterus?”, Nina said. Angel frowned at her, but the girl smiled slyly, and waved at her, as Coco continued onto the lot. “That’s my kid”, he said over his shoulder. His voice had a hint of pride to it, and she noticed his back straightened.

They went through a scrapyard, and pulled up at a wooden building – the Mayan clubhouse. Nina got off the bike, and took a second to stretch her legs. She took off her helmet, and looked around; feeling very out of place. Suddenly, a familiar voice caught her attention. “There was a beer-delivery while you were away; but the man was very rude. He says he wants payment up front from now on, and he didn’t even say goodbye”. Nina turned towards the voice, and a smile spread on her face. “Chucky!”, she called out. The balding man lit up, and walked towards her. “Miss…”, he began. “Nina… just Nina. You know that, Chucky!”, she said, and patted his shoulder. “Chibs says hi”. “He’s not here?”, Chucky asked. Nina shook her head. “Then why are you…?”. “It’s a long story. I’m going to hang out here for a while”. EZ gestured for her to follow, and with a final smile at Chucky, she followed the prospect towards a trailer outside the clubhouse. Angel was about to trail behind them, when Taza patted his shoulder; to talk to him.

The trailer was small, and clothes cluttered the table and cot inside. EZ scrambled to pick up his stuff. There was a pile of old novels strewn on the counter. “Sorry…”, he muttered. “If I’d known…”. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you out”, Nina said apologetically. “I’m just a prospect. I do what my president tells me”, EZ smiled crookedly. “It’s fine, really. I’ll stay at our pap’s place while you’re here”. “Your?”, she asked, questioning the plurality in his words. “Yeah. Me and Angel’s. He’s my brother”, EZ replied. Nina dropped her backpack and helmet on the cot. “Is it ok if I leave some of my books here, though?”, he asked, and gestured towards the stack of books on the counter. “Absolutely, as long as you don’t mind me reading some of them”, Nina replied. EZ raised his brows, and seemed pleased at her response.

He found Nina some clean sheets from somewhere, as well as a blanket. “It can get cold out here during the nights”, he said, as she took it with it a thankful smile, and placed it on the cot in the trailer. “This far south?”, she asked. “Yeah, it varies. Some nights I have to wear two sweaters and socks; other nights, it’s like sleeping in an aluminum can over a lit stove”. He knocked the roof slightly, letting the sound of metal fill the tiny space.

There was a roar of laughter from outside, as Angel and Coco shared some inside joke. “So, is your brother your sponsor?”. “He was. Took care of me, and got me in to the club, after I got out of jail. I was having kind of a hard time, and he helped me out… But Bishop took over, after some statute changes…”, he said, before halting himself. “… Which is stuff you shouldn’t even know about. Does SOA let their old ladies in on club business in Charming?”. She chuckled and shook her head. “I wouldn’t know".

“You just a croweater then?”. Angel had appeared in the door, and Nina jolted at the sudden interruption. “Sorry… Bishop is back. He wants to talk to you in his office”. “What does he need me for?”, EZ asked. “Not you. Her”, Angel said. He stepped inside the trailer, his head almost hitting the ceiling of it; and picked up the helmet on the cot. “Your helmet looks worn… Doesn’t fit your head either. It’s not safe”. Nina felt bile rise in her throat, and yanked it out of his hands. “Don’t touch it”, she hissed. She held the helmet protectively in her arms. Angel furrowed his brows at her, and licked his lips, as if he was about to say something. “Sorry… It’s an heirloom”. “Ok…”, Angel said. “Didn’t mean to overstep”. EZ cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable at the tension of the situation. “Don’t want to keep the prez waiting”, he said.

All three of them stepped out of the trailer, and EZ went ahead of Angel and her, as they walked towards the clubhouse. “How do you know about the way a club runs? Your old man lets you in on stuff like that?”, Angel asked. “Why do you keep asking about my old man?”, Nina said. Angel smirked. “So, you do have an old man”. Nina took a second to think. She wasn’t in Santo Padre for a long time; but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a good time. Besides, Angel didn’t seem like a long-time kind of guy. “No”, she said, and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. His smile widened. “Good to know”.

---

The Mayan clubhouse had similar decorations to the ones in SAMCRO’s clubhouse; though clearly inspired by their proud Mexican and latinx roots. Nina instantly felt at home there, surrounded by leather-clad men, and inhaling the scent of motor-oil and beer.

Bishop was seated by a table, and spread out his arms to greet her, as she entered with Angel. “Step into my office”, he said, and gestured towards a chair opposite him. Nina sat down, and Chucky appeared from somewhere, planting a mug of coffee in front of her. “Black as sin…”, he smiled. “Just the way I like it. Thanks, Chuck”, she said. Chucky scuttered off, leaving them to it. Alvarez hadn’t come back with Bishop, but Nina knew not to comment on it.

Bishop took a sip of his beer, while Angel settled on a bar-stool, taking the cold one EZ handed him from behind the counter. Most of the charter seemed to be scattered throughout the room. “I’m sure you understand why we’re not having this conversation in templo. We don’t allow women at the table, and even if you weren’t one, you’re not wearing a patch”. Nina nodded solemnly. “I understand”, she said. Bishop gave her a short smile. “Here’s the deal. SAMCRO is paying us to look after you, while you stay in Santo Padre for a while”. “She’s the package we’re guarding?”, a bald Mayan asked. “Not what I expected”. He leered at her. Bishop sent him a hard look. “Nina left Charming to… start new”, he said, and looked meaningfully at her. “Right?”. “Yeah… I won’t be staying long”, she said. Angel chewed his lip, and looked quizzically at her. “Why does she need us, though?”. “She is used to an MC having her back. It’s just for comfort and peace of mind for SOA”, Bishop said.

Taza sat down next to Bishop. “You’re not familiar with the area, so you should stay on the lot. Only leave if you have someone with you”, he said. Nina knew what he was really saying; that she was more or less on lockdown, and if she did leave the compound, it needed to be with a patch. It wasn’t anything new. She’d gone into lockdown with SAMCRO before; though on a club-wide basis. “It’s your house… Your rules”, she said. “Good”, Bishop said. “You’re welcome to the facilities here, and if there’s anything you need, you let us know”. “The prospect is used to going on tampon-runs”, Coco grinned from his own stool by the bar. His daughter, who was standing behind him, hit him over the shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything you can’t trust these idiots with. I’m Letty… Leticia”, she said. “Control your kid, Coco”, Bishop said, but smiled at the teenager none the less. “We expect you to pull your weight around here. Chibs tells me you have experience behind a bar, and that you would sometimes help Chucky out in the office, back when their auto-shop was still running. You can do the same with the scrapyard. I trust I don’t need to tell you about keeping your nose out of our other business”. Nina eyed the pack of smokes on the table, and Bishop pushed it towards her. “Anything you need”, she replied, and took a cigarette. “Anything?”, the bald biker neck smirked. Angel got on his feet, and smacked him over the head. “Stop being a creep, Creeper”, he said, and walked over to light her cigarette. He kept eye-contact with her, while she took in her first lungful of smoke, and let a smile ghost his face, before stepping back again. Nina stifled a smile, and felt a rush of blood to her head; as well as other parts of her, that were even more intriguing.

Bishop got on his feet. “Templo. We got some shit to talk about”, he said. “How did things go with Palo? He know who did in his cousin yet?”, Creeper asked. Taza stared daggers at him. “At the table, fuckhead”. The Mayans all went towards a beautifully ornate door, leaving Nina with EZ, Letty, and Chucky. Angel sent her a final look, and shot her a sly smile before closing the door behind him.

---

While EZ helped out Letty with what looked like some homework, Chucky was running in and out of the clubhouse, lugging cases of beer and soda. Nina slipped behind the bar to help him fill the fridges. “You don’t have to do that”, Chucky said. “I need to do something to pass the time”, she replied.

As they worked in silence, she noticed Chucky looking at her occasionally, as if wanting to say something, but not quite having the courage. “Ask…”, she said. “It’s not my place”, he said. “Why not? We’re friends, right?”, Nina smiled. “I’m happy you’re here, Chucky. It would have sucked not having even one familiar face around”. Chucky lit up. “We’re friends?”. “Of course we are. In spite of the fact that you used to tell Jax on me, whenever I was doing anything he might not like”. Chuck blushed. “He asked me to keep an eye on you when he wasn’t around”. “Yeah… Just keeping you safe, darlin’”, Nina imitated the former president of SAMCRO. Chucky smiled. “He was a good man”, he said. “I wish he’d believed that about himself”, she sighed. “So… ask”. Closing the fridge, Chucky looked at her hesitantly. “Why did they bring you here? Did they lose you in a bet, like me?”. “No… nothing like that”. “Then why?”. Struggling with opening a bottle of soda for Letty, who’d stepped over to the bar with EZ. Nina took it from him, and opened it, before giving it to the girl. “I know Chibs took over from Jax, both as president, but also as your…”. “Yeah…”, Nina sighed. “Why would he let you out of his sight?”.

EZ accepted a bottle himself, and was unsuccessful in pretending like he wasn’t listening in on the conversation. “I needed a fresh start. Wanted to get out of Charming for a while”, Nina said. Her cheeks were beginning to burn. “Why? Did something happen?”. Nina’s eyes travelled the room, finding it hard to reply. “Bad breakup…”, she said, almost like a line from a manuscript. “Chibs lets you date?”, Chucky said. “Happy lets you date?”. She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t mentioned Tig. The man had gifted her a 6-pack and a case of condoms for every birthday, since the day she turned 18. “I’m a grown ass woman, Chuck”, she almost giggled. “Yeah, but Jax…”, Chucky began. “Isn’t around anymore”, she replied shortly, feeling immediately guilty. “I’m sorry… It’s still a sore subject”. “I accept that”, Chuck said, his eyes letting her know she was forgiven for her tone.

Nina smiled softly, and went to open another box of beer.

---

#angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #ez reyes #coco cruz #bishop losa #mayans mc #angel reyes fic #mayans mc fic

86 notes · View notes

starlightbuck · 4 years

Note

20 for the meet cute prompts 👀👀👀

20. You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it’s not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought.

the way you look tonight || read on AO3

“Why are you walking so fast?”

Chim darts an unimpressed glance over his shoulder. “Because I’m a man on a mission. Now hurry up, Buckley.”

Buck picks up speed, trying to understand how it is that he’s struggling to keep up. His legs are longer than Chim’s, so shouldn’t he be the one setting the pace for the two of them? Not vice versa?

“If I walk quicker, will you finally tell me where we’re going?”

Chim had showed up at Buck’s apartment less than an hour ago and all but dragged Buck out the door without any explanation. Buck had gone willingly, mostly because he was bored and didn’t have any other plans for the day. That hadn’t stopped him from wondering what destination Chim had in mind for them.

He had asked where they were going once they got into the car. His question was met with silence so Buck decided to ask a second time. That time, Chim just raised the volume all the way up on the radio. Buck caught the hint and didn’t ask again.

“If you walk quicker, you’ll find out on your own.” Buck, having not yet caught up to Chim, sticks his tongue out at the back of his head. “Very mature, Buck.”

That stops Buck in his tracks. “How did you see that?”

“I didn’t. I just know how immature you are.”

They continue walking at an almost grueling pace until finally, Chim slows down. It’s such a relief to Buck that he doesn’t even acknowledge their surroundings until Chim is pulling a glass door open and gesturing for Buck to walk in. He does so immediately, drawn in by the cool air conditioning that directly contrasts the overbearing Los Angeles heat.

It’s once Buck steps foot inside the store that he realizes where he is and promptly does an about face.

“Uh uh.” Chim blocks Buck’s escape route, standing in front of the door with his hands on his hips. “You’re not going anywhere until you find yourself a new suit.”

It’s the same thing Maddie has been telling Buck for months now, apparently unhappy with the perfectly good suit he has hanging up in his closet. He doesn’t understand why she’s so adamant about him not wearing it. It cost him a fair amount of money and he knows he looks good in it. Why would he waste his time and money buying a new one?

He’s about to say as much to Chim, but is cut off by a wave of Chim’s hand.

“And don’t tell me you already have a suit. Maddie has deemed it unsuitable and what she says goes.”

“Doing my sister’s dirty work now, huh?”

Chim’s expression doesn’t waver, lips set in a straight line as he takes a couple of steps towards Buck. “Yes I am because she’s carrying our unborn child and I love her.”

Buck can’t say he was expecting that response and it works to disarm him long enough for Chim to grab his forearm and march the two of them to the front of the store.

“Didn’t take you for a romantic, Chim.”

Chim doesn’t rise to the bait like Buck’s hoping he will. Instead, his future brother-in-law sets his sights on one of the store’s employees and lets her know that they’re on a quest for a new suit for Buck. She is very efficient, taking Buck’s measurements and then leading him over to the first rack of suits to get a feel for what styles he prefers. Once that has been accomplished, she guides Buck to a fitting room and lets him know that she’ll be back with a few options for him to try.

“I can’t believe you betrayed me like this,” Buck whines through the curtain as he buttons up a burgundy long-sleeve top and slides on the black suit jacket.

“This isn’t so bad.”

Buck pushes the curtain aside so he can show Chim the fourth suit combination he’s changed into. “That’s easy for you to say,” he grumbles. While Buck’s been forced to change in and out of suits like some kind of Ken doll, Chim has been lounging in a comfortable armchair with a cold water bottle one of the employees brought out for him.

“I don’t think that’s the one either.”

“Why not?”

Chim shrugs, not even bothering to hide his smirk. “Just doesn’t seem right. Let’s see the next one.”

Buck clenches his fist and stomps right back into the fitting room before he can say something that might be used against him in the future. This is exactly why Buck refused to go suit shopping when Maddie brought it up, but at least she would’ve been a better shopping companion. She would’ve actually offered constructive criticism whereas Chim is just turning down everything Buck has tried on. Buck can’t tell if Chim is doing it out of spite or if he genuinely hasn’t liked anything Buck has tried on so far.

The final suit left to try on is olive green and definitely not something Buck would’ve chosen for himself. It’s why he left the option for last, hoping that any of the other suits he tried on would’ve been a winner. He changes slowly, knowing that once this suit is rejected, he’ll have to wait all over again for the same employee as before to pick another round of things for him to try on.

“Alright, here’s the last one,” Buck announces, not bothering to look in the mirror before stepping back out to face Chim. He fiddles with the cuff link, waiting for Chim’s opinion. “What do you think?”

“I think you look very handsome.”

Buck startles at the sound of a voice that definitely doesn’t belong to Chim. His suspicions are confirmed when he looks up and finds a young boy with sandy hair and glasses in the chair that Chim was sitting on only moments earlier. “You’re not Chim.”

“No, I’m Chris,” he answers with a toothy grin. The kid, Chris, is far cuter than he has any right to be. Buck finds himself smiling for the first time since stepping foot inside of the store. “That’s a nice color.”

“You think so?”

Chris nods emphatically, glasses tipping precariously on the tip of his nose when he does. He pushes them back into place and gives Buck a once-over. “It’s different, but I like it. Can you spin?”

“Spin?”

“Yeah, you know. Spin.” Chris twirls his finger around in the air to show Buck what he means. “Abuela says you have to look at an outfit from every angle to make sure it looks good.”

Well if that’s what Abuela says, who is Buck to argue?

“Make sure to do it slowly so I can see you,” Chris instructs and Buck does just that, taking his time as he walks in a small circle. He does it twice, moving his arms around during his second spin to see how the suit feels when movements are involved.

He’s just about to face Chris again to receive the child’s final verdict on the suit when Buck sees his reflection in the mirror.

I don’t hate it is the first thought that comes to mind. This might be the one is his second thought.

“Does it look good from every angle, Chris?”

Buck turns back around and almost chokes on his saliva.

Chris is still sitting in the armchair but he’s not alone anymore. There’s a man, an extremely attractive one, standing beside Chris with a collection of suits slung over his arm and amusement shining in his brown eyes.

They’re really nice eyes.

Attached to an even nicer face.

“It looks very good,” Chris answers solemnly, completely unaware of the tailspin Buck’s mind has just been launched into. What does it say about Buck that this kid is able to concentrate on the task at hand while Buck has been sidetracked by someone’s presence? “Daddy, what do you think?”

And oh. If Buck thought having this man stare at him was a distraction before, it’s nothing in comparison to how he feels when the man brings his free hand up to stroke the scruff that covers his chin. It’s a contemplative look that has Buck’s heart doing a backflip or cannonball or something else ridiculous and unbecoming of someone of his age.

So not only has Buck’s brain short-circuited, but his heart has as well.

Traitors.

“It’s a good look,” the brunette finally decides. The words shouldn’t hold anywhere near as much weight as they do. “Definitely a top contender in my opinion.”

Buck is not blushing, he’s not.

Maybe if he tells himself that enough times, it’ll eradicate the tinge of pink that he knows has stained his cheeks.

“Does that mean you’re gonna buy it?” Chris’s question breaks Buck out of his stupor. “Because I think you should.”

Chris’s dad raises his hand. “I second that statement.”

“And I third that statement,” Chim says, appearing out of nowhere wearing a smile that always spells trouble for Buck. Of course he’d choose now to show up again. “Who are your friends, Buck?”

“I’m Chris!” He holds his hand out for Chim to shake. “And this is my dad.”

“Eddie,” his father supplies, also taking a second to shake Chim’s hand.

“Buck was looking for you before.” Chris explains and Buck is glad that the kid is explaining the situation because Buck doesn’t think he would’ve been able to. “But don’t worry. I helped him and told him how handsome he looks.”

Buck doesn’t have to look at Chim to know that he’s withholding his laughter. “Oh you did, did you?”

Is it wrong of Buck to wish that a black hole will appear and swallow him whole? It’s probably dramatic, but he can live with that. At least then he would be able to retain some of his reputation. He already knows that Chim, and by extension Hen, will never let him live this down.

Buck decides it’s best to cut his losses and heads into the dressing room to get changed. The curtain muffles the voices outside, but he can still hear Chim’s laughter. Buck can’t tell if this is a blessing or a curse.

By the time he exits the dressing room again, the laughter outside has subsided and Eddie is nowhere to be found. Buck swallows back his disappointment, a fact made easier by the bright smile Chris directs at him. “Buck! Are you ready to help daddy find a suit too?”

“I-uh what?”

“Help Eddie find a suit,” Chim repeats, as if the problem Buck had with that statement was that he didn’t hear it. “I told Chris that he could keep you for the afternoon so you could pay him back for helping you.”

Buck’s jaw falls open as he stares at Chim in disbelief. Buck was only gone for a few minutes, how did Chim manage to set this whole thing up that quickly?

“I’ll take these off of your hands,” Chim says, taking the suits from Buck. “You can pay me back for the suit later.”

Chim’s final sentence is accompanied by a wink that lets Buck know he’s going to be expected to pay Chim back for more than just the suit. He’s gone before Buck can so much as put up a fight and then Buck is left alone with Chris.

“I’m ready, Chris!” The low voice comes from the dressing room right beside Buck’s and he does not think about the fact that Eddie was getting changed at the same time he was. “You ready for me?”

“I am! Buck?”

Buck glances around the room, curious as to where that employee who helped him earlier is. She’s the one who supplied Chim with a water bottle earlier and something tells Buck he’s about to be very thirsty. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #prompt fill #my writing #tylerhunklin

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raendown · 4 years

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For the @madatobiweek prompts generation swap au and fairytale au.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 9590 Rated: T+ Summary: Tobirama doesn't have much in life, just a younger brother to protect and a job that doesn't pay enough to feed them. He knows that hunting in the king's forest is forbidden but for Hashirama he would risk everything. In the forest he finds meat to put on the table for the last living member of his family.

And in the forest he finds a tower, a boy imprisoned, and a future he could have never dreamed of.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

I Never Asked For My Pedestal

If one asked the local authorities they would say that Tobirama had no good intentions in the forest that day. Hunting in the royal forests was expressly forbidden, an edict passed with no explanation only a year or two after Tobirama was born, but for the families as poor as his there was often little choice but to take that risk. It was the thought of seeing his younger brother going hungry that drove him in to the trees week after week in search of a meal he could not legally afford on his own.

Once Tobirama had been the third son of four, had reveled in the guiding love of his older siblings, happily joined in the doting when another was born and he wasn’t the youngest anymore. Then sickness had swept through their village and while the lords and ladies locked themselves away safely in the castle Kawarama and Itama, his two beloved elder siblings, took themselves away to die quietly in the forest where they would not infect the others. And from that day Tobirama was left with nothing but his own two hands to work and feed his baby brother Hashirama.

Like so many other days in the years since they had been alone, Tobirama’s job working for one of the local farmers couldn’t quite pay enough to feed them both. Hashirama, wonderful smiling Hashirama, was an innocent young lad who lived with his head constantly lost in daydreams and greeted his brother at the end of each day with a hug and a hundred questions. Were they situated anywhere else he would have been forced to find work himself no matter Tobirama’s urges to baby him but with the forest behind them and the guards growing lax in their patrols it had become almost routine to find dinner through other means.

Not, of course, that such conditions had ever convinced him to grow inattentive himself.

Tobirama was only moments from loosing an arrow to take down a buck which would have kept them well fed for several weeks when he heard the sound of hooves. He cursed himself for a fool as he lowered his arms and cast about for somewhere to take cover. It made sense to hunt in a different place each time he came here. Even a skilled woodsman like himself left some traces of his passing and traversing the same paths over and over could only make it easier for someone to catch him in his lawbreaking. But he should have known better than to come here so far beyond the woods and fields that he’d spent the last decade mapping out in his mind. This area was largely unknown to him. Promises of new and unsuspecting game had drawn him farther from home; now he was paying the price for answering that siren call as he realized that he’d forgotten in his hunger to scout an escape route first.

Desperate for any way to return safely to his brother at the end of the day, Tobirama leapt for the first place he saw that looked as though it could conceal his over-average height. The boulder was tall, if not very wide, and the small pocket of space behind it could really only be seen if one walked right up to the cliff it sat at the base of. With his heart in his throat he threw himself behind the rock.

He was immediately forced to bite his tongue to keep from crying out in surprise when he fell through the screen of ivy he’d thought was covering solid stone.

As soon as he figured out which way was up Tobirama did what he could to resettle the ivy so it hung still, less evidence of his presence. Then he turned to stare down the cavernous emptiness of what looked to be a passageway carved through the mountain. Since there really were only two options, forwards or back out in to the open, he hurried on in to the darkness. It wasn’t entirely dark, actually, some kind of light was clear at the other end, but with the ivy blocking out any light from this end made the passageway feel twice as long as he was forced to feel each step out before setting his weight down. Even using such caution he nearly rolled his ankle several times.

By the time he reached the other end Tobirama was close to cursing out loud. His eyes had only just finished adjusting to the darkness when he finally stepped out in to the light again, squinting with his chin tucked down to make the readjustment easier. When it felt less like tiny knives digging in to his eyeballs he gave a few experimental blinks then raised his chin.

Only to drop his jaw and let it hang loose as he took in the sight before him.

What he had taken as a pathway underneath the mountain was in fact the entrance to a hidden oasis in the very center, a field hidden on all sides by the cliff that Tobirama had always believed to be just one solid peak. Crystal blue water sparkled in a small lake, untouched grass grew lush and green, yet all he could see was the massive white stone tower that rose from the very center of the clearing. So tall it would have been visible from the outside with only a few more feet, the structure was made entirely of pale granulite and stood alone with no other buildings nearby. At the base he could see where there had once been an entrance but it had since filled in with stones and boulders. Who, he wondered, would build such a graceful monument to loneliness only to seal it up in such a manner?

He very much intended to find out. The bricks were pretty but their cut looked rough and uneven, perfect for a man in good fitness to scale his way to the top. He had only just shifted his weight to step forward when movement caught his attention and sent him scrambling back in to the safety of the dark passage.

Not a moment too soon, it turned out. As he watched, a woman stood from where she had been crouched next to the lake, hair white as his own and a sweeping robe to match blending in with the shine of sunlight on water. Her face was severe enough to make him grateful he hadn’t accidentally caught her attention but instead was able to observe from afar the way she floated across the field and stopped at the base of the white tower. There she tilted her head back to look up at the very top.

“Madara,” she called, a melodic voice that for some reason turned his stomach. “Let down your hair.”

Before he could wonder what the hell that even meant Tobirama bore witness to the single most baffling sight he had ever seen. A face came to the window high up in the sealed tower, man or woman he couldn’t tell from this distance, and struggled to lift something over the wooden sill. Then coil upon coil of hair the color of the darkest night came spilling down, down, down until the very end of the impossibly massive braid jerked to the end of its length just an inch or so before it would have brushed the ground. Seemingly unimpressed with this incredible phenomenon, the woman took hold of the braid with both hands and called out above once more. Then she was rising in to the sky as ostensibly whoever had thrown her the pseudo rope was now reeling it all back up as well with her weight added on.

Tobirama waited but neither the woman nor the other figure appeared at the window again and before long he realized that he didn’t truly want either of them to catch him there where he was so clearly not supposed to be. And besides that he had a brother waiting at home with an empty belly. None of this was any of his business. With one last long glance at this new mystery Tobirama told himself to forget what he had seen and turned to head back in to the forest, hoping against hope that whoever had sent him scurrying in to the unknown had moved on as well.

He did what he could to put the oasis and its wonders out of his mind in the days that followed. Seeing the light in his brother’s eyes when he came home with the deer he’d finally managed to take down was enough to keep him content for a day or so but the morning beyond that he found his thoughts wandering. Who was that at the top of the tower? How did they come to be in such a place? With the bottom sealed up it was obvious that the figure with such fantastically long hair would have no way down. Tobirama couldn’t help but wonder if they had chosen to shut themselves away from the world or if that sickeningly beautiful face were perhaps more sinister even than he’d first imagined.

There was only one way to find out.

For nearly a week he managed to resist before the pull of the unknown drew him in just the same as the thick tomes he studied in the public library whenever he had a chance. Strictly speaking it would be at least a few more weeks until he needed to hunt again; after salting and curing most of the prime cuts they could rely on venison whenever there wasn’t money for other foods. But the mountains in the distance called to him, whispering the secrets that only he knew of, and Tobirama could only resist for so long before he found himself asking Hashirama to be safe while he was gone and heading in to the trees once more.

It felt strange to traverse these fields and forests with no bow upon his back, although he supposed that it was nice not to worry for once about leaving tracks. There was nothing illegal about walking in the King’s woods. Without the need for his usual caution he was able to make the journey in about half the time it might have taken him on any other day, the sun barely at its zenith by the time he crested a small hill and began to look around for the sheet of vine concealing the entrance he’d fallen through before.

Were he any less alert his future might have gone very differently from that moment – or perhaps been deleted entirely. Only his sharp reflexes sent him whirling behind the closest tree when he spotted a flash of white from the corner of one eye. He was out of sight not a moment too soon as the woman he had seen calling up to the tower emerged from the hidden passageway and set off through the forest with a rather annoyed looking expression. In one hand she carried an empty basket that Tobirama would have bet his last penny she intended to fill by either foraging through the woods or making the journey in to the village. Whatever the case, she would likely be gone for several hours.

Oh how the fates had smiled upon him. Now was the perfect time to sate his curiosity. Feeling almost gleeful for his good luck, Tobirama forced himself to remain still for several minutes past when the woman was out of sight just to be sure and then dashed towards the ivy. In his enthusiasm he very nearly forgot to step carefully along the dark uneven ground but there was at least no one around to watch him wobble and stumble as he hurried along until finally he was stepping back in to the bright midday sun. Somehow the massive white tower was only more impressive at a second glance yet he wasted very little time in admiration, moving forwards until he had reached the base where stones and mortar sealed what would have been the easiest way in. After a quick circuit around the whole thing he concluded that his first guess had been correct. He would have to climb.

Luckily he had come prepared for just such an activity. He stomped both feet to settle them in his sturdiest shoes and shook his hands out to loosen the muscles, wary of a cramp at just the wrong time. Then he paused the moment he laid his hands on the rough hewn bricks. Head tilting back, eyes squinting above, Tobirama considered the call he had heard before.

There was no one here, he reasoned with himself again. If he looked a fool then there was no one to carry the tale of it. With that in mind he cleared his throat and firmly reminded his voice that now was not the time for nervous cracks.

“Madara,” he called loudly in a false soprano, “let down your hair!”

Even as he winced at how terrible his impression had been there came a movement at the window above. Then suddenly coil upon coil of midnight hair came tumbling down towards him only to snap taut just before the ground. For a moment he could only stare. It was hard to believe that had actually worked. Then he paused a moment longer to wonder if his weight might hurt the scalp on the other end of this incredible length. Only when the pseudo rope gave an impatient ripple did he suck in a deep breath, reach out with both hands, and begin to scale the tower at a much quicker pace than he’d been expecting to.

With his feet walking up the side to keep him straight and arms strong from years of hard labor Tobirama was scrambling over a wooden windowsill almost in no time, taking in the petulant figure several feet away, hair anchored and knotted around a hook so as not to pull on his head and arms crossed over his chest while he pouted towards the floor.

“You sound like you swallowed a frog,” the man growled. “What’s the matter, hit yourself with one of your own curses, witch?”

Tobirama could only stare, unsure of what to say. In a word the man was gorgeous. Skin china pale without the sun’s rays, broad shoulders thick with muscles from dragging around the weight of so much hair, and a face with almost delicate features that still somehow screamed of masculinity. He was a masterpiece. When his pout deepened the expression only served to make him look more adorable in the sort of way that made Tobirama’s heart flutter traitorously in his chest.

“Cat got your tongue? Or maybe it finally shriveled up and fell out from all the acid lies you spit.”

Such antagonism could only mean that his residence here was not a happy one, though it still remained to be seen whether or not he was being held against his will. Clearly he wasn’t the biggest fan of the woman he was expecting to come up to him.

“Real mature, giving me the silent treatment. Didn’t you just leave? Thought I’d have the whole afternoon without your evil stench. I hope you didn’t come all the way back up just because you forgot something, I could have thrown it down. At your head.” With a snort and a faintly vicious smirk as he presumably imagined throwing something at the woman’s head, at last the strange man looked up – then gasped and attempted to reel backwards with fright in his eyes. “Who–!?” Before he could even finish his startled exclamation the anchored hair jerked him to a stop and he froze in place, trembling from head to toe.

“I apologize, I did not mean to frighten you,” Tobirama murmured. His voice, if possible, seemed to startle the man even further.

“You’re not the witch! You’re…like me. A boy!”

Considering he was well in to his second decade Tobirama gave some thought to correcting that. He was a man, not so much of a boy anymore. Now was hardly the time for semantics, though, so he let that go in favor of inching a single step forward just to test the waters. When the other man trembled again he angled his body to make it as clear as possible that he was heading towards the hook built in to the floor.

“My name is Tobirama,” he said as non-threateningly as he could. “What’s yours?” He already knew that, of course, obvious from the words that gained him entry to this tower. It was just polite to ask really.

“None of your business!”

“I see.” He hadn’t really expected politeness in return.

The closer he got the more worried the man looked until with carefully projected movements he bent down and freed the massive braid from the hook trapping its owner in place. As soon as he was free the man scrambled backwards, though Tobirama noted that the worry was colored now with a sort of curiosity he knew all too well.

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” Tobirama admitted truthfully. “I stumbled upon this place a few days ago and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. There was a woman – is that the one you call a witch? – she called for you to let down your hair and I wanted to know what sort of person could have such impossible locks. They’re impressive. What’s your name? You know mine, it’s only polite to share.”

For a moment the man hesitated. Then he asked very quietly, “Is it? I wouldn’t know. Will you do anything bad with my name?”

“Anything bad?” Tobirama repeated, baffled.

“Well I don’t know! I’ve never met anyone else before!”

“Never!?”

Sticking out his bottom lip in another pout only brought this fascinating stranger back to be cute. “I’ve spent my whole life here in the tower. Well, I suppose I wasn’t born here. That old hag certainly isn’t my mother but she did explain to me once how babies are made so I suppose I must have been somewhere else once.” He considered his very first visitor with deep gravity. “My name is Madara.”

It was a good name, strong, the sort of name that wouldn’t be common in the lower classes. For whatever reason it sounded almost familiar but Tobirama couldn’t quite put his finger on why and he was hardly going to waste his time digging through memories just now. Trying to remember the manners classes he’d taken as a youth from a friendly neighbor, a poor imitation of the gentrification proper noblemen were raised with just in case he somehow encountered one of the royal family, he tucked in one arm and spread the other wide in a clumsy bow.

“Your acquaintance is my pleasure to make,” he said. The words felt too large and fancy in his mouth and halfway through the sentence he realized he’d said it all wrong. Madara didn’t seem to mind.

“What now?”

“How do you mean?”

“You said you wanted to know who was up here and now you do. So what will you do next?” The straightening of his spine spelled confidence but the way he reached out to take a solid grip on his heavy braid just in case was more obvious than he probably thought. Someone who spent all their time away from other people probably hadn’t had many lessons in being sneaky.

For the first time Tobirama allowed his eyes to slide away from the figure he’d gone to so much effort to meet, gazing around the room to take in all he could. Basic furniture and sparse entertainment options made the place look even more like a prison than the sealed exit at the bottom. He noted there seemed to be no exit from here either. However one was meant to travel down the tower when it was built, the way appeared to have been cleverly hidden from view now. For Madara there truly was no way out. He could have climbed his own hair, of course, but doing so would have left him stranded at the bottom with no one to unhook him from the anchor.

All of this combined with the way he spoke of ‘the witch’ left Tobirama with only one choice, a stupid choice, a choice that would surely put him in to danger.

“I could take you away from here,” he said. Phrasing it like a suggestion felt safer for the psyche of a man who had never left his prison but in his heart he knew that he couldn’t leave Madara to his fate, not now that he knew of the situation. Stolen away as a child so young he remembered nothing but the tower that caged him? It might not be Tobirama’s responsibility but he would never sleep again if he walked away now.

Clearly Madara was not well versed in the art of kindness judging by the startled look on his face. Not a big surprise there.

“A-away?” he asked.

“You’re clearly not here of your own free will. I intend to come back and, if you wish, free you from this place.”

“Free…” Brows furrowed, Madara worried at the loops of his makeshift weapon. “Isn’t it…isn’t it terribly dangerous outside of the tower? When I was young I used to plan how I would run away from here but I never did – and lucky for that! The world is so dangerous! All of my books have stories to tell about bandits and people with bad magic; there’s just too many people who would try to steal me away!”

Tobirama cocked his head to the side. “I assume you believe they would steal you for the same reason the witch keeps you here, whatever that may be?”

He almost regretted his words immediately as Madara's eyes narrowed in suspicion. It only became obvious that the man had slowly begun to relax when he tensed up again at the idea of giving away what must be some sort of secret. Knowing he needed to tread carefully if he wanted to build any sort of trust, Tobirama very carefully did not react to that expression and did his best to give the impression he wasn’t interested himself in this secret.

“I believe I can keep you safe from anyone who might want to hurt you,” he declared instead. He might not have been the most refined peasant but his skill with a blade could rival that of the royal guards themselves. Or so he’d been told him once by an uncle who served in the palace until an injury left him unable to carry the buckets for cleaning or fetch the arrows for lords too lazy to walk across a field and fetch their own. Unless they encountered a magician of some sort he truly was confident he could protect this man. And since the only magician he’d ever seen round these parts was the wizened old woman who performed tricks for the court the odds felt pretty low on that happening.

“What’s it like?” Madara asked. “The world?”

“Very big. Full of different things. Scary at times but if you use your head you can usually think your way out of things.” That was how he’d gotten through life, anyway.

“That sounds terrifying and wonderful all at once.”

Clearly he was considering it but it was just as clear from the wary hesitation in his eyes that Madara had no intentions of following through on the offer. After spending his entire life locked in the same tiny space Tobirama couldn’t really blame him for that, either. He would have been frustrated if he hadn’t already expected that answer, planning ahead in his mind for when he could make the trip out here again.

“I can ask as many times as it takes for you to be brave,” he promised.

A promise rashly made but it was one that he kept. Though he could not stay for long that day Tobirama was in the woods and calling for Madara to let down his hair only a few days after. Hashirama, the understanding brother that he was, simply waved from the doorway and told him to enjoy whichever adventure had captured his attention so.

Their visits were all quite the same at first. Before he left the first time Tobirama instructed Madara to hang something in the window whenever the witch was gone so he would know it was safe to call up. Each time he scaled the tower and crawled over the sill Tobirama then happily spent however many hours he could spare answering all of Madara's questions about the outside world, asking his own questions in turn about life here alone. He was pleasantly surprised to know that his new friend had been provided books on mathematics and spent quite a lot of his time rereading the few novels he was allowed to have. Stifled as it was by isolation, it was obvious Madara possessed a mind just waiting to flourish.

Watching confidence grow in his friend week by week was a special sort of joy that Tobirama would almost liken to how it had felt to raise Hashirama on his own – except he’d never been struck by the beauty of Hashirama's face in a beam of sunlight or listened rapturously to the rolling timber of his brother’s voice.

Falling in love was, perhaps, not of his smartest ideas. Of all the people he might have taken an interest in Madara was the most dangerous. Not because he thought the younger man could hurt him but because at the moment he was the only person who had ever been kind to Madara and it would only be too easy for such affections to be misplaced. The last thing he wanted would be to take advantage of someone who had put so much trust in him.

With caution in mind Tobirama came back to Madara knowing that he himself was growing only more and more attached with each visit yet also knowing that he could not in good conscience abandon anyone stuck in this situation no matter how it all ended. There was no doubt in his mind that eventually it would be his own heart that came away with a wound but to know that Madara would find a better life than the one he had so far led, well, he couldn’t say that didn’t make this all worth it. Even if he had despised Madara to the bone he would still have come back to help. No one deserved to be kept locked away and never feel the kiss of freedom.

Even destitute as they were, Tobirama appreciated the freedoms he and his brother enjoyed now more than ever.

It took until the first time that Madara very nearly worked up the courage to follow him out of the tower for the man to trust him with the secret of his servitude. For all the many times they had spoken for hours upon end it had been difficult for Tobirama to bottle his curiosity, to allow such a sensitive subject to come to light on its own, and his patience was rewarded at last on the day Madara hung his feet out the window and stared at the ground so far below them.

“How would you get down?” he asked as though it had only just occurred to him. Their plan had been for Tobirama to remain behind and free the long hair from its anchor once the other had reached the bottom.

“Don’t worry about me,” Tobirama soothed him. “When I first came upon the tower I had planned to climb up with just my hands. I’m sure I could just as easily climb down.”

“All that way!?”

“It isn’t so far. When I’m out on a hunt I’ve scaled cliffs twice that height with half as many good handholds.”

Trusting Madara with the knowledge that most of his food came from illegal poaching in the royal forest had been an easy choice. Not because he doubted the man would ever truly work up the nerve to escape but because he believed in the seeds of loyalty that grew and flourished with every day their friendship strengthened.

“You know…I used to dream about the world when I was younger, about making some daring escape on my own. I would have done it back then for sure. Too innocent, too ignorant of all the darkness that’s out there. But even if I had known about bandits and knights and all the ways I could hurt myself without anyone there to help, the one thing that held me back was…myself.” Madara reached up to play with the shorter hairs growing around his face. “She stole me for the power that I was born with and I hate her but she’s never tried to hurt me as long as I stay. What if I ran and got caught again by someone who didn’t treat me as well?”

“Keeping you locked in a tower doesn’t really strike me as treating you well,” Tobirama murmured under his breath. When Madara flashed him a grin he knew he’d been heard.

“Of course that’s the part that you would comment on. You’re a good person. From what I know of people, anyway.”

As careful as he had ever been, Tobirama took a step forward to bring them closer. “In what way?”

“Don’t play coy, we both know you’re curious as hell about why that witch keeps me here. I mentioned flat out that I have some kind of power and you still don’t ask. You’re always so careful about making me feel safe.” Madara's lips twisted in a wry expression as though acknowledging his own vulnerabilities.

“Your secrets cannot be my own unless you choose to entrust me with them.” There was really no point in denying that he was curious but even as he realized that he hadn’t been quite as subtle as he imagined Tobirama hoped to impress that he had no intentions of forcing anything the other didn’t want to tell him. He had learned a long time ago that trust was something earned, not asked for.

His efforts were clearly appreciated. Swinging back from the window, Madara set his feet on the floor and smiled warmly. The expression suited him probably more than he’d ever been told.

“I trust you with my life,” he declared.

“Poor taste,” Tobirama couldn’t help but tease. He smiled to himself when Madara roared with laughter.

“Maybe. But they’re my secrets and I’ll give them to whoever I please, so there!”

Just hearing those words sent the heart in Tobirama’s chest galloping double time and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward on to the balls of his feet as the mystery he had turned over in his mind a thousand times unfurled itself before him.

“You might have noticed that my hair is just a little long,” Madara began with a touch of sarcasm. “She won’t let me cut it. I don’t know how or why, she’s never bothered to explain, but my hair has some kind of magical properties – healing properties – and the longer it is the more potent the magic becomes. If I cut it short I would be able to heal small cuts and scrapes. With it long as it is now the power is so strong that my healing reverses the signs of aging.”

“Sweet flame…”

“It’s why she keeps me trapped here. She might look young but that witch is ancient, old enough to be my great grandmother. But with the power I have in me she can stay young and beautiful. Or at least she thinks she’s beautiful.” He snorted in obvious disagreement.

Completely unsure of how to respond, all Tobirama could think to say was, “She’s not my type.”

Madara blinked. Blinked again. Then his head tilted back and once again he roared with unfettered laughter. It was far from attractive, brash and quite similar to the bray of a donkey, and Tobirama admitted with the solemn taste of defeat on his tongue that he had never been more in love. It was a laugh that had never been taught shame or self-consciousness, beautiful in its innocence.

“Good to know that you have no plans to use me as bait,” Madara declared when he was able to draw breath again.

“Setting aside the vomit I can feel rising in my throat at the very thought, I would never use someone in such a deceitful manner.” Reaching up to tug at a lock of his own hair, Tobirama eyed the dark braid so long it could loop several times around the entire room. “So. Magic hair. I really should have been expecting that and yet somehow I was not.”

“I guess it’s nice to be the one with new and interesting information for once.”

The two of them shared a look and from that moment on something very subtle changed between them.

Meat had never been so plentiful in their home as the days now with Tobirama making the journey through the forest every chance he had between working for the farmer who paid him so little. It didn’t occur to him how deeply he’d buried his head in the clouds until Hashirama greeted him home one night and asked with a grin if he would ever get to meet the one who had captured his aniki’s heart. Tobirama had made a point of holding off on another visit the next day just to spend some time with his sibling. Sweet Hashirama was such a good little brother. It was hard to believe he had ever done anything to deserve a love like the one they shared.

Over the months that followed Madara very nearly followed him away from the tower on three different occasions. Though he never quite made it past his own balcony Tobirama could see the way his gaze lingered on the snow drifts with curiosity and wonder, how he traced the shapes of spring with naked longing in dark eyes.

“What’s really holding you back?” he asked one day when he had stayed perhaps a little later than he usually would have.

“Her,” Madara whispered. “I want to leave and never come back but…what if she follows? What if she finds me?” He paused and looked away with something like pain etched in to his features. “What if she hurts you? After everything you’ve done for me I can’t imagine repaying your kindness by leading her straight to you.”

“I can protect myself,” Tobirama reminded his friend, daring to step close enough for their arms to brush together. Small touches were all he ever allowed himself.

The minutes passed but he held his silence, allowing the other to follow whatever paths his thoughts had led him down. When their eyes met again he was surprised to see that all gravity had faded and instead a mischievous grin was looking back at him.

“Can you protect yourself from this?” Madara demanded, both hands raised as though to give a solid shove.

He was frozen halfway through the motion by a voice calling out from below.

“Madara, let down your hair!” Both of them looked at each other in panic even as Madara slid off the windowsill and moved towards the anchor on muscle memory alone.

“She’s supposed to be gone for hours!” he hissed. “What do we do?”

“Don’t keep her waiting. Keep her attention away from the window once she’s up here so that I can slip out. I’ve told you before I can climb down on my own, don’t worry.” Tobirama make shooing motions with both hands to hurry the other along. Only when Madara finally leaned down to begin looping the end of his hair around the metal ring did Tobirama turn and madly search for a place to hide.

There wasn’t much, even less that was close enough to the window that he could sneak out undetected. For once in his life he cursed his own tall stature as he discarded a standing mirror that would have been perfect were it not two heads shorter than him and too thin to crouch behind. To the other side of the window there lay a sizable storage chest he might have fit in but the noise he would have made climbing out vetoed that option even before he checked whether there was enough room inside. A frantic noise from behind sent Tobirama scrambling in to the only viable hiding spot he was able to see.

Usually it was children who hid themselves behind the drapery and thought themselves concealed. He could only pray that the witch didn’t think to look down at her own feet lest she spy his.

Forcing himself to keep still as he listened to the sounds of the witch he’d heard so much about clambering in to the dungeon she had created was probably the hardest thing Tobirama had ever done. Her weight made less noise than the voluminous robes he had once seen her in, silk and satin whispering as they dragged across the wooden frame. Her shadow fell over him and for a single heartbeat he felt the very blood in his veins go cold thinking that she’d seen him. Then it moved away and Madara's voice captured her attention, his only opening.

“You said you’d be gone longer,” his friend snarled.

“It isn’t for you to wonder at my comings and goings.” Her voice was melodic in the way Tobirama had always imagined an evil witch’s might be, honeyed and soft to draw you in until the frost hidden in her words bit and snapped, striking just at the moment one was foolish enough to trust her.

“Hmph, I’ll wonder at whatever I please.”

Praying that his friend wouldn’t go overboard in his attempts to keep drawing attention, Tobirama peeked around the curtain and barely held in a sigh of relief to see that the coast was clear. He wasted no time slipping over to the window and sliding on to it, movements as fast as he dared to make them without allowing his clothing to give him away with their rustling. Madara's eyes flicked over to meet his own in farewell but it was only a moment. As he turned himself around to descend feet first he could hear the other man give vent to a loud grumble.

“And how many new babies did you kidnap while you were away today? None? Ah, I suppose you stopped and gobbled them up for your lunch then. Is that why you’re back so soon? Too full from your snac-!”

His voice cut off with the ringing sound of a slap and Tobirama went still just out of sight, eyes wide, glaring at the stone between him and the woman he so desperately wished did not exist.

“Do not forget that I hold your life in my hands,” the woman’s voice hissed, all softness forgotten. “It is only by my mercy that you aren’t chained to the walls with only bread and butter to soothe the aching emptiness in your belly – or would you rather a taste of such a life to remind you of your place?”

“No,” Madara surrendered. Even without being able to see him anymore Tobirama could hear the defeat in his tone. Fingers clenching against the bricks until they scraped and bled, he clung to the side of the tower and wished death upon the evil within it. Never had he hated another person so much. He wasn’t even sure she truly qualified as a person, barely human in his eyes after all the things he’d heard of her, and that opinion was only solidified as he bent all of his willpower in to convincing himself not to climb back inside and give her a taste of his bloodied fists.

Only the knowledge that doing so would make things worse for the one he wished to protect held him back.

“Say my name,” the witch purred. “Go on, answer me properly this time. Would you like a taste of what you truly deserve, my little magic boy?”

“No, Kaguya-sama.”

“Ah, I do so love the sweet music of obedience when you say my name. Go. Begone to your room. You may count yourself lucky if I see fit to bring you your dinner after such offensive behavior.”

Though he waited Tobirama heard nothing more after the sound of Madara freeing his hair and dragging it all with him to one of the walled off areas that Tobirama had never asked to see. Bedrooms were private places and for someone afforded so little privacy he’d never seen fit to invade Madara's.

Climbing down was as arduous yet uneventful as he imagined it would be. By the time he reached the bottom his arms were nearly ready to fall off and his fingers had all gone entirely numb. After shaking out his limbs and resting until the sensation came back Tobirama considered whether he should wait a little longer until darkness fell, dark skies offering what little protection they could against wandering eyes that might look out the window at just the wrong time. In the end he decided that it would be just as easy to spot him then as it would now and someone who just returned home was less likely to be gazing out at the world than someone settled in for the evening. His heart hammered in his throat as he took off across the hidden grove like a rabbit fleeing from a wolf’s jaws.

Hashirama greeted him with a smile when he came home, stumbling through the front door with no memory of his journey back through the woods. Worry replaced his usual cheer as soon as he took in the expression on his brother’s face.

“I’ve just made tea!” he said. “Come, sit! What on earth is wrong?”

Like a little mother hen the younger man fluttered around their modest kitchen, cups rattling together when he pulled out too many for just the pair of them, lips pursed anxiously until he finally made it back to the table with the promised tea. With all his running around it had probably gone half cold but Tobirama found he didn’t mind. It was nice to be cared for, even in the moments like now when he felt a little guilty about it. He should have been the one taking care of Hashirama as the older sibling.

“You look like you’ve been summoned before the royal court!”

“Worse than that.” Tobirama gratefully accepted the tea that slid across the table towards him. “I just came face to face with the urge to take the life of another human being. And I know that I would have felt no guilt for it.”

“Oh my…” Hashirama swallowed but – bless his soul – there was no judgement on his face.

Unable to look away from the dark liquid steaming before him, Tobirama drew in a breath and let it back out slowly. “I should have been honest with you a long time ago. Will you listen to my story?”

“Always. You’re allowed your secrets Anija!” His brother’s voice was so full of love and understanding that it made him ache. “If you trust me with them I would love to hear what you have to say.” When he finally looked up Hashirama was beaming as though to share things between them was a great gift rather than simply the way it should have been from the very start.

So Tobirama told him the truth about where he had been disappearing to over the past year. He told Hashirama about the young man he had met locked away in a tower, though he did not reveal why. That was not his secret to tell. He described the witch who kept his friend locked away and admitted that he hadn’t the faintest idea of what her true powers really were. When he had said all the words that he could force along his tongue he fell silent and waited to hear the verdict, the opinion, of one who thought so differently than himself.

He was startled by the hand that reached across to take his own.

“You love him,” was the first thing his brother said.

“I don’t know how you do that,” Tobirama murmured. “How you just look at someone and see how they feel even when they don’t say it.”

“Well of course you never have to say anything, Anija, I always know what’s in your heart!”

Hashirama squeezed his fingers a little tighter and Tobirama the sensation deep inside his chest.

“This world does not deserve you, Otouto. I…you’re right. There might be some feelings on my part. But you understand why I can’t say anything to him?” He was both glad and disheartened to see the other nod.

“Do you have a plan?” Hashirama asked.

“Yes.” Tobirama chewed his bottom lip with thought. “I knew the moment I heard his story that I wanted to help him escape but of course he’ll need somewhere to go. I want to bring him here. My hunting can keep us all fed and if I’m not traipsing through the forest so often I’ll have time to see about picking up extra work somewhere else. You would like him. And if there’s anyone that would be a good friend for someone in his situation it would be you.”

“I can’t wait to meet him!”

Chest spasming with the clenching of his heart, Tobirama bowed his head. “You’re okay with this?”

“Of course! Goodness, I can’t believe you haven’t spirited him away already and hidden him under your bed!” While Hashirama's mouth turned up with a little giggle Tobirama felt his cheeks grow warm. Just imagining such a scenario had him forcibly moving his thoughts elsewhere. He didn’t want to think about how much he would enjoy Madara in any sort of context concerning his bedroom. Not with his little brother right there.

Knowing that he had Hashirama's blessing was a weight off his chest that he hadn’t acknowledged was even there until it was gone. The two of them had always been close enough that keeping any sort of secret felt wrong no matter what the younger said. Freeing himself of that guilt made each step lighter as he disappeared in to the woods the next time he was able to slip away, mumbling promises to himself under his breath that the next time he entered these trees it would be in search of food and nothing more.

With his head so lost in thoughts of the future and all the many ways it could play out his trip to the hidden oasis flew by almost without notice. His feet tread along the familiar path on muscle memory alone while he tried to imagine what expression Madara would wear the first time his feet touched grass, how quickly his body would tire when travelling long distances for the first time, what expression he might wear to see the hustle and bustle of a real village after a lifetime of quiet solitude. It was hardly the first time he had fantasized about such things but they had never had such an immediate taste of anticipation before.

It was only when he had made his way through the passage and looked up to see a familiar blue strip of silk hanging in the window that he realized how lucky he’d been with his timing, how carelessly he had crashed through the forest in his rush to get here. All it would take would be one unexpected meeting with the witch and everything would be ruined. Neither he nor Madara knew where she went during the times she left him alone in the tower but neither truly cared to know. She was gone. That was all that mattered.

“Madara,” he called up, excitement tight in his voice. “Let down your hair!”

He only needed to wait half a minute before coil after impossible coil came flowing down to brush the earth, a scant few inches longer than it had been the day he first made this climb. After the amount of times it had been since then Tobirama’s arms were stronger than ever and he pulled himself up the side of the tower with a speed that would have impressed himself but a few months before.

Full of hope and happiness after speaking with his brother, it felt like nothing less than a cold knife in the heart when Tobirama crawled over the windowsill to be confronted with the sight of a purpling bruise on Madara's cheek. His friend stood tall and proud in the face of his stare, undoubtedly aware of why, refusing to be ashamed of his own situation. It wasn’t the first time Tobirama had seen a mark like that on the other man but it was the first time he’d understood that it wasn’t a result of clumsiness or any sort of accident. Just the sight of it had his blood boiling with rage all over again.

“I know what you’re going to say–” Madara began. Tobirama cut him off.

“Come with me.”

His words gave the other pause. “Okay, so I didn’t know you were going to say that. I should have, you’ve said it before, but I thought…”

“You don’t need me to tell you that how she treats you is wrong, you’re not stupid.”

“Damn right!”

“Please,” stepping forward, Tobirama dared to be so bold as to take his friend’s hand. “Come with me. My brother has already agreed that you can stay with us. I can show you anything you want to see and teach you anything you want to learn. Come with me. Let me take you away from here.”

To his great surprise Madara did not pull away, only turned his head to look out the window with a familiar distant gaze. He wanted to, that much was obvious, wanted to know what it was to be entirely in control of his own destiny.

“I would stay with you?” he murmured.

“For as long as you want to.”

“You don’t think you’d get tired of me pointing out when you��re being a boor?” Madara's grin was sharp and yet so very fragile, steel encasing glass so ready to shatter.

“I could never tire of you in any way,” Tobirama admitted. It was perhaps a bit too honest but if it got him the results he’d been trying to achieve for an entire year then it was worth the pain of laying his heart bare. Madara's freedom was worth everything he had to give and more.

Much to his pleasure he was not met with disgust or dismay or even the sort of hesitance that comes before rejection. Instead he was blessed with the sight of a warm pink spreading over Madara's pale cheeks, chin ducking in to his wide collar almost shyly and then immediately jerking upright in defiance of his own emotions. Watching him navigate the roller coaster of his heart would always be a pleasure and an amusement both.

Breathing deeply with determination in his eyes Madara took a single step forward, bringing them closer than they ever had been before, close enough to feel the heat of each other’s bodies, sharing air as their gazes locked.

“Ask me one more time,” he demanded.

“Come with me.”

“Okay.”

Unlike all the other times they had spoken these exact same words there was something different in him now, a straightness in his spine, a steadiness in his voice. Tobirama felt almost as though his heart were fluttering in his throat. Difficult as it was he managed somehow not to float straight off the ground as a pink tongue flicked out to wet Madara's lips and then his friend was leaning forward, closer than close, brushing their mouths together with all the innocence of one who knew nothing of the world but the feelings he carried in his heart.

“You’re sure?” Tobirama whispered.

“Of you? Yes.”

While he was still trying to breathe past the thunder in his ears he found himself rather pleasantly distracted by the touch of lips against his own once more and this time he had enough wits about him to respond in kind, drinking in the sweet sounds that followed like fine wine. He had only kissed one boy before. Puberty had left him restless, curious, all too aware of the way some of the eyes of others near his age had followed him around. His explorations then had been chaste and unsatisfying enough that he turned his attention away from any sort of intimate pursuits – that is, until the day he realized exactly how attached he had become to the boy in the tower.

He was still flying high with his head in the clouds when they parted, Madara's hand tightening where they were still linked between them. Nothing in his life so far had ever quite compared to the joy he felt when he saw his friend, his most precious hidden treasure, move to anchor his hair in its usual place. When he secured it through the ring bolted to the floor he did so at the opposite end from his own head to allow himself a rope with which to climb down.

“You’ll follow after?” he asked, already moving to the window.

“Always,” Tobirama promised. “Wherever you go, so long as you’ll have me, I will follow.”

“Here’s hoping you enjoy the view from behind then.” Filled with the wild energy of escape, Madara sent him a wink before clambering up and over the sill. He waited just long enough to look back and make sure that Tobirama had taken the ends of his hair to lower him down with.

Then he took a tight grip with both hands, closed his eyes, and with a smile unlike anything Tobirama had ever seen before he put his trust in to another’s hands along with his weight. Watching his head disappear from sight was sweet. Hearing his voice give a triumphant crow only moments later was even sweeter. The strain on his muscles was next to nothing as Tobirama fed the massive braid of magic hair downward bit by bit; strangely he found the most difficult part was convincing himself not to cry. An odd feeling. He’d never been the type to get overwhelmed by his emotions like that.

It took several minutes longer than his own descent would have for Madara to reach the bottom. Tobirama made sure the journey downward remained slow and steady to make him as comfortable and unafraid as possible. Only when he felt the line go slack did he allow his stance to waver and his arms to relax and the second he was sure the other had reached the ground he was dashing over to the window to look down.

Madara's neck craned back to look up at him, on hand cupped around his mouth while the other waved madly through the air.

“Tobirama,” he called, “let down my hair!” Then he looked down at his own feet and even from so far above his voice could be heard crying out with excitement. “It tickles! The grass tickles! This is amazing!”

No matter how quickly he was able to tear his eyes away Tobirama was doomed. There was no denying the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes any longer, though he consoled himself that they were at least tears of joy. Tears for the happiest he had ever been in his entire life. In this moment he could not imagine anything else that he could possibly wish for.

He should have known the universe would prove him wrong. After freeing the hair from its anchor for what he hoped would be the very last time it was only one quick-as-possible climb down familiar stones before he too was standing in the lush grass and admiring the wonder on Madara's beautiful face, laughing at the way dark hair dragged along the earth unattended. Though he knew that they should hurry away from this place he couldn’t quite bring himself to break the moment until finally the other’s eyes returned to him and pale hands reached for his own.

This, this was the moment in which he could ask for nothing more, he realized. With Madara's fingers between his own he had everything he could ever need.

“I did it.” Words whispered thick with disbelief, sharp with joy, lighter than the air they breathed.

“Welcome to the world,” Tobirama whispered back.

“Take me away from here,” Madara demanded. “Take…take me home. I’ve never had a home before.”

“You can have one with me.”

Where the witch had gone they did not know. How she would react to finding her captive missing they had no idea. Tobirama knew only one thing for sure as he slipped off his shoes to offer the other and led them towards the passageway in to the rest of the world.

He would protect this man no matter what. Whatever the future held he would fight to protect this precious treasure that he had found, that he had freed, that he had fallen in love with and never looked back.

#rae writes #madatobiweek2020 #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction #fairy tale au

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trueromantic1 · 4 years

Note

"Listen, asshole, I'm gonna carry you home whether you like it or not. You're not in any condition to get there yourself." omg i love this one for maddie and buck ;)

Happy birthday Ellie!!!!!!!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day my dear. I couldn’t pull of the level of angst you manage, but I hope you enjoy some Bucksibs time with drunk Maddie lamenting the angstyness of Madney. Enjoy!!!!!

Also available on AO3, as part of my Sickfic Prompt oneshot fic. **********

For not the first time that night, Buck was grateful Maddie had chosen to go drinking at the bar down the street from his new place. He might be bigger than her, and a firefighter, but his sister was currently 5’2” of drunken, rambling mess, who lost her balance everytime she flung her arms out for emphasis. And since she got more dramatic the more she drank, that was turning out to be quite a lot. Finally, after she almost fell into yet another bush, which he supposed was better than the street like a few minutes before, he grabbed her arm to stop her, then grabbed her up bridal style before she could stop him.

“Evan! What are you doing?” Her voice had already been loud, since she lost her volume control along with her balance, but right by his ear was almost deafening. “Maddie, you don’t have to yell. But if I let you walk the rest of the way to my place, we’ll either be out here all night or we’ll spend the rest of the night in the ER.” He quickly hiked her up higher, her squirming having caused his grip to slip, before he continued walking at a faster pace.

“I was fine Evan. Just fine. I could walk. And I was just taking my time, okay? Isn’t that what you and Frank keep telling me? To take my time?”

Oh boy, she’d bypassed her happy drunken phase and gone straight into indignant. He hoped he could get her inside before she reached the part where she just did the opposite of whatever he said. That was one version of his sister that absence hadn’t made the heart grow fonder of. “Listen asshole. I’m going to carry you home whether you like it or not. You’re not in any condition to get there yourself. I’m not sure what got into you tonight, but I haven’t seen you this drunk since that weekend I stayed with you your freshman year and you went to the frat party down the block. You and I both know you were about five minutes from taking a nap in someone’s yard, and I don’t think Athena would be too impressed with finding out another Buckley was in trouble with the police when she got on shift next. So, just sit tight for a few more minutes. If you really want to yell at me for carrying you, just do it at home.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t say anything. Usually she was the one lecturing, not him. The few times he was giving the lecture, she tried to interrupt to tell him why he was wrong. He looked down at her, but almost dropped her when he saw the tears running down her face. As it was, he stumbled the last few steps to his front door, almost dropping his keys in his haste to unlock it. “Mads, what’s wrong? What did I say? You know I’m not really mad at you.” He set her down carefully on the couch, crouching down to try to catch her eye. “Maddie, come on. What’s wrong?”

Eyes darting away, she took a deep breath. “I am an asshole Evan. It’s all my fault. Doug went after him because of me, because he cared about me. He almost died! And nothing is the same now. He blames me. He says he doesn’t, but he must. He said it’ll never be like before and he’s right. We were happy, but that was before my husband almost killed him, before my husband kidnapped me and almost killed me. Before I killed my husband. Of course we can’t go back to how we were! And why would he want to? It’s my fault Evan, and he’s just too nice to tell me that’s why he can’t be with me. He’s so sweet; he even tried to date me. But it would never work now. He’s such a kind, sweet man. I’m just...Nothing good comes from being around me. So it’s good he got away from me before he got too invested.” She still wouldn’t look at him, eyes trained at the wall over his shoulder. He’d known she was struggling, that something had happened between her and Chimney after they both got out of the hospital, but neither had said a word. She’d just acted like everything was okay, except that she’d practically moved in with him and she didn’t check her phone all the time or laugh much. And now she’d gone straight to eloquent drunk, which was always a sign that things were really bad.

“No, hey, no, that’s not true. None of it was your fault Mads. Doug is the one who hurt you, who hurt Chimney. You were just living your life, and he followed her across the country. Then he stalked you, stalked the man who was finally making you happy, and then tried to hurt you both. That’s on him Maddie, not you. And Chimney would never blame you for any of it. He cares about you, I can tell, and he doesn’t blame you for what Doug did. And yeah, things can’t go back to how they were before, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It just means that you both have to put in the effort to start over. Don’t try to jump back in where you were, when you were about to go on a date. You both went through a lot, and that changed you both. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still be good for each other. Okay?” He brought one of the hands resting on her knees up to cup her face, wiping away the tears that had silently started to fall. After what seemed like hours, but surely was only another minute, she finally looked at him. The misery and self loathing he saw in her eyes startled him, but he didn’t look away.

“How do you know? We’re never going to get it back Even. Whatever we were going to be, we can’t get that back. And how could he not blame me? You’re right, Doug is the one who actually did it all. But it’s because of me. Because I came here, and I let people get close, and matter to me again. If I’d just kept going, or even just stayed in Hershey, it never would have happened. So how can he not blame me Evan? He’s not okay, and I’m the only one left to blame.” Voice breaking by the end, she broke eye contact again, pulling her face away from his hand.

“He asks me how you’re doing all the time Mads. Like, all the time. Athena was at the station for dinner a couple weeks ago, and was asking how you were, since she hadn’t talked to you in awhile. I mentioned that you’d been staying with me, and that you were trying to get out of your lease, and Chimney immediately told me he’d talked to a friend who worked at a real estate office who agreed to go over your lease to see if you could get out of without losing the security deposit. And now every shift he asks me how you’re doing. He cares, Maddie. I think you both just need some time, and then to try to get to know each other again as the people who survived a horrific thing. I don’t think this has to be the thing to tear the two of you apart Maddie. But you have to talk to him about it.” She looked at her lap, nodding slightly but otherwise not responding. Knowing he’d done all he could, and not even sure how much she’d remember in the morning, he got up to get her some water and give her the space to get ready for bed. He could only hope something he said stuck, because being with Chimney had made her happier than he could ever remember seeing her, and he wanted to see it again.

#cardi-sea #911 fanfic #maddie x buck #sickfic prompts #buckley siblings #bucksibs

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

Text

Reflection, a Buddie fic, jealous!Eddie, 3.8k

Eddie Diaz knew a few things. His wife, Shannon, was no longer with them. While he will always love her, it was time for him to move on. Surprisingly, his heart already did without his notice. It set up camp in the hands of his best friend, Buck. And he was too late to do anything about it.

Because Buck has a personal trainer. Buck has a crush on his personal trainer.

If Eddie ever meets the man, he might dip back into his 'phase'. But knowing how that might hurt Buck, he hopes they never run into each other. At a party in Buck's apartment, there's a high chance their paths will cross. Only what happens when Eddie meets Buck's personal trainer?

Eddie stands in a corner, scanning the crowd for a particular face. Shoulders tense, expression smooth like the marble of Buck’s kitchen counters, he broadcasts a very clear message - stay away. Appropriate behavior if Eddie were back at his station overseas and not at a party. A party celebrating a very important person in his life.

He catches Buck’s eyes in the crowd, the other man in the middle of a conversation. Buck lights up, waving him over. Eddie declines, darting away to sip at his beer. Too slow to miss him deflate at the snub.

His heart stutters over itself. A low growl rumbles through his mind, sharp teeth chewing him out for causing Buck’s smile to dim by ten percent. Barks at him to push off from the wall and join him, even at the risk. Slide in close and interrupt Buck while he works through his fifth tangent. Because Eddie knows his friend loses the plot easier than a loose contact and everyone around him looks antsier than soldiers during a surprise mine sweep. Eddie would then reel him towards an ending, helping lighten the social traffic.

It’s exactly what he wants to do. But a phantom hold keeps him from following through on the fantasy. The fear that, if he were to go over and enjoy himself, the very person he wasted already too much time searching for would surprise him and ruin his fun.

If there’s no fun had there’s none to ruin.

“You doing okay there Eddie?”

Hen and Chimney double team him, fencing him in and blocking his view of the entire party from his post. Any chance of escape stolen by Hen bracing her arm against the wall and Chimney spreading his legs in an awkward way that he finds comfortable. “So I’m not shifting around all the time.”

“But it’s a tripping hazard!”

Chimney smirked, “Too bad.”

Eddie frowns, carefully constructed mask slipping to expose his raw nerves. It rights itself in the next moment. Only the damage was done.

“What’s wrong?” Hen asks, “This is supposed to be a party! Why are you the treating it like a funeral?”

“I’m not -”

“Eddie’s not imagining himself at a funeral, Hen,” Chim interrupts, “no, no, it’s like he’s surveying a fire for any stragglers.” They snicker into their drinks, Eddie rolling his eyes at their antics.

“Real funny, you two,” he sighs, “Look, sorry if I’m being a little bit of a buzzkill but I’m not in the mood to party.” “Then why’d you come?”

He answers with a soft gaze towards the apartment’s entertainment section, Christopher sitting wedged between Denny and Harry playing with Denny’s Switch. Two more controllers added since his birthday, so they can all play Mario Party. Christopher shakes the controller madly to win whatever mini-game randomly chosen, laughing when Harry knocks into him.

“Hurry up dad!” Christopher urged Eddie. He waited by the front door, bouncing with excitement. Eddie shrugged on his jacket, telling him to be patient. “But I want to see Buck!” he said, grinning, “Don’t… don’t you want to?”

Eddie did, but he wasn’t alone. There’s another person here that probably feels the same flutter in his stomach whenever Buck’s form crosses their gaze. Except they can act on it, whereas Eddie has to wait for his stomach acid to digest those damned butterflies.

“That’s sweet,” Hen says, cup over her heart. “But that’s not explaining the stiff upper lip thing your face is doing.”

Chimney nods, “You’re no Brad Pitt but you have a better poker face than this, man.”

His lips thin further, and Eddie wishes a tornado would sweep through the room and suck him out of the apartment. It’s the only natural disaster he feels his family aren’t equipped to handle, meaning they’re less likely to rescue him from death. Although Eddie believes, even if a tornado found a way to travel across the Midwest and to Los Angeles without dissipating, his Texan blood would keep him alive for the fallout. “Maybe I would perk up a little if people stopped harassing me about why I’m not the life of the party?”

“Hey, don’t make us out to be the bad guys,” Chimney says, “we’re first responders.”

“We’re just doing our jobs,” Hen adds. Her finger pokes his chest three times, on the fourth Eddie waving it away.

Chimney steps closer, voice lowering to a whisper. “Really though,” he says, Eddie straining to hear him over the background chatter, “are you okay? You can tell us?”

“Was it therapy?” Hen asks, “I saw you leaving in a huff. Completely ignored me by the way…”

Eddie winces, unaware Hen saw him storm out of their therapist’s office. “My bad,” he winces, scratching his neck, “I would’ve said ‘hi’ if I saw you.”

“I know,” she says, “I could tell you weren’t paying attention. You had this intense glare in your eye like you had before we showed up.”

“Is that what it is?” Chimney arches a brow, “Something your therapist said that rubbed you the wrong way? A breakthrough you weren’t ready to hear?”

Chimney throws darts blindly and lands one close to the bull’s-eye without thought. Eddie bristles at how closely his friend’s guesses were. Although there are a few facts he has wrong.

Like the breakthrough Chimney thinks Eddie wasn’t ready to hear? Not true. Eddie understood his newfound feelings for Buck almost immediately. Already experienced the blinding, gasping fear that came with the development. Scared how things might change, to be around Buck, and what would happen if his affection went unanswered. Especially since he couldn’t hide his heart as easily as he thought. Frank sniffed them out at their session after Eddie’s revelation.

“Why did you shut down just then?” he asked, leaning forward in his wheelchair, “When you were talking about Buck.”

“I didn’t shut down,” Eddie said, crossing his arms. “I finished with the story… not much else to talk about.” Frank chuckled, rubbing at his eye. “What’s so funny?”

“Usually when it comes to the topic of your… friend , Buck, I have trouble getting you to move off the topic.” Shifting, he brings his pen to the notepad and scribbles a few words. “Has there been another rough patch in your relationship?”

Eddie scowled. “I wouldn’t say that. We’re fine.”

“Fine?”

“ Dandy. ” If falling in love with your best friend and coworker could be boiled down to a word, it wouldn’t be that. But did Frank expect Eddie to tell him the truth?

He did. They spent half the session verbally sparring about Buck, Eddie drawing his line in the sand and making sure Frank wouldn’t wheel across it.

“I thought you didn’t like talking about Buck?” Eddie growled. Squeezed the arms of the chair in an effort to keep his cool. “Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“Because you’re making it one.” Frank lost any pretense of entertaining Eddie’s efforts then, laying into the other man. “You think I’m being annoying with this? Imagine what might happen after you leave this room. How are you going to react when your mood shifts when talking to friends or family - or Buck? When you spend time with Buck will you shut down like you did earlier? I assure you that will only draw more suspicion your way.”

Eddie sunk into his seat. “I can handle myself…”

“Or,” Frank continued, “why don’t you let me help you through whatever you’re working through in this safe space. Where, I promise, there is no judgement.”

He mulled it over for a minute, giving Frank the benefit of actually considering his offer. A scene played through his mind, Eddie in the same room with Buck. Neither doing anything important than existing next to each other. In the sequence Buck turned to him and grinned, little birthmark rising slightly and eyes squinting like he stared up at the sun.

Eddie hoped his cheeks didn’t burn like they were in his head, in that room with Buck.

“Okay,” he started, thumb brushing back and forth across his knee, “if you want the truth…” It spilled forth rapidly, Eddie accidentally twisting the knob on his faucet off and unable to stop it. Went over how, after Shannon, Eddie didn’t know if the hole in his chest would ever be filled. That the pain from losing her once hurt so long, and this time her exit was more permanent.

But, without his notice, someone grabbed a shovel and set to work. Slowly Buck stepped into a new role. Went above and beyond what a friend normally did. Especially given his own condition, dealing with the possibility that his career and life were forever over. At first Eddie thought Buck used his time with him and Christopher as a distraction. To numb the terror of not being able to return to the firehouse. Except the cast came off, and Buck stuck by their side. Became even bigger parts of their lives. Sometimes he picked up Christopher from friend’s houses when Eddie or Carla was busy. Or joined them in grocery shopping. Stayed late into the night, helping Christopher to bed and chatting with Eddie until it was one in the morning. No matter how hard Eddie begged, though, Buck would return to his apartment. Eddie watching him hop into his Uber and waiting until he received a text from Buck to go to sleep.

“God,” Eddie scrubbed his face, “I had it bad for him this whole time and I didn’t notice?”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Frank comforted him, smiling, “When we go through trauma, it’s easy for things to fade into the background while you heal. Things change, around you and inside, that you might not notice for awhile because the immediate pain takes up all your attention.”

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed, “I spent so long being glad that I had Buck… I didn’t examine those feelings too closely because I was just happy that the pain from missing Shannon wasn’t there.”

“And when Buck abandoned you, as you mentioned in a previous session…” Eddie shifted in his seat at Frank’s choice of words. “How did you feel? Really feel? Looking back on it with the clarity you have now?”

“I… I don’t know,” Eddie said, “I guess it… pushed me over the edge. Two people I loved choosing to walk out on me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Felt like I was letting Christopher down because I couldn’t give him a stable home… was more like a hotel with one of those revolving doors. It made me mad. And I wanted to hurt people, because maybe then I wouldn’t be hurting inside... God,” he wiped his eyes, laughing, “Buck was right. He was part of the reason I had my… phase . If he found out… his ego was insufferable before.”

“Your confession is safe with me,” Frank told him, “I’m glad we could work through this in today’s time. If you held out a bit longer I was afraid we’d be cut off in the middle and it’d be forever to get you to where we’re ending today.”

“Thanks, Frank,” Eddie said, standing, “I… I needed this.”

He scheduled another session the following week, proactively dealing with his issues. While they covered many things in the hour there were still more to discuss. When his next appointment arrived Eddie wasted no time dumping the remaining worries at Frank’s feet. Like a man dangling off the edge of a skyscraper begging for someone to help him away from the edge.

Frank hauled him onto solid ground with sound logic. “If Buck is all that you say he is,” he explained, “than in the possibility where he didn’t return your feelings occurred, he wouldn’t call it quits like that. You need to have a little faith that things can turn out good.”

“It’s hard, though. When every time I have that faith it all goes sour on my end.”

“Well maybe this time things will turn out differently.”

Eddie took Frank’s advice, deciding that the next moment alone with Buck he would hand him his heart and pray he kept it.

However he could never be alone with Buck.

In the following weeks, any chance where they were the only two in the room was spoiled by a third party joining almost immediately. From fellow firefighters to random strangers. Christopher, when Eddie tried sneaking out to meet Buck. Caught and forced to bring him along since he cannot say no to his son. While at the park, watching his son play, he thought about telling him there. But then Athena walked in, apparently on patrol. So desperate Eddie considered faking an emergency so he could claim the ambulance for him and Buck and confessing on the way.

Eddie was desperate.

Instead of risking a felony, Eddie went with an even riskier option.

“Buck,” he sidled up to his friend, swinging an arm over his shoulders, “You good to join me in the gym for a little one-on-one?” Not the safest place given how accessible their gym was in the open floor plan. If he timed the barbell lifts right, Eddie could give them some protection.

Buck deflated, stepping away from Eddie’s hug. “Sorry, Eddie… no can do.”

“What? Why?”

He frowned, tilting his head in confusion. “Really? You know why…” At Eddie’s silence, Buck continued. “Ever since the accident I… I can’t work out like I used to. I had to switch up how I do things and… find new ways.”

“Oh,” Eddie mirrored his expression, “How, uh… how have you been exercising then? Because - I mean - you’re still looking fit and everything and you had to keep up your strength when going through training of course…”

Buck smiled, ducking his gaze to hide a blush. The sight of flushed skin sent chills racing down Eddie’s spine. “Been doing some classes, got a personal trainer… who I really like. He’s - uh, he’s cool. Derek, I… it’s been different, but uh - uh new. In a good way.”

A good way. Said to the floor yet Eddie still bears the brunt of the blow. Repeatedly suffering with each mention of ‘Derek’. Especially since, after first finding out about him, he becomes a recurrence in his life.

“There’s this really cool trick Derek showed me that’ll cut cramp recovery in half the time.”

“Derek, he had this really funny story he was telling in the middle of our planks…”

“I didn’t think yoga was that effective, but after one class with Derek I can see why people do it.”

Derek. Derek. Derek. He took his place in Buck’s life as his exercise partner without him knowing. The longer he waits the better chance he has of graduating from ‘trainer’ to ‘boyfriend’.

But Derek keeps him at bay. The specter of him shadows every conversation they have. Eddie imagining telling Buck his feelings only to be shot down because some random guy swooped in and struck the scalding iron while Eddie didn’t even know the metal was hot. As more time passed, Eddie sparingly saw his friend.

“It could be nothing,” Frank said. Eddie ignored him, pacing the room. “If you talked to him -”

“I mean it’s perfect,” Eddie spiraled, “being a trainer means that he can get close without there being any questions. Touch Buck’s muscles or - or press his chest to Buck’s back while showing him how to do a move or whatever.”

“If he does then that’s harassment, Eddie. Buck pays him to be his trainer and nothing more.”

“But it could be something,” Eddie turned to him, “The way he talks about Derek… there’s this stupid smile on his face that he gets when he has it bad for someone. Had it when he told me about Abby, when he was with Ally... “

“Did he ever have it when he was with you?” Eddie stayed firm in his silence, refusing to answer him. Frank continued, undeterred. “You’re jumping to conclusions without all the facts. If you talked to him -”

“It wouldn’t make a difference! He’s already gone on some other lucky jerk.”

“And is that so bad?”

He stiffened. “What do you mean? Of course it’s bad!”

“I don’t believe you think that,” Frank said, “To me, it sounds like you’re using this Derek as an excuse to back out of confessing your feelings to Buck. You’re afraid Buck might say no. Having Derek there is the perfect option because if he’s in Buck’s life than you don’t have to tell him.”

Eddie imploded. Glared at Frank, biting down every bit of bile he wanted to spew at his therapist. Swallowed it all and stormed from the room before he did something he regretted. Carried that dark cloud with him from the parking lot to Buck’s apartment where they surprised him with another party. Celebrating him being off blood thinners and hopefully not have it end like last time.

“What happens in therapy stays in therapy,” Eddie mumbles, pushing off the wall, “now if you’ll excuse me.” He escapes them, squeezing through the sewing needle loop between Hen and Chimney.

They follow, matching his hurried pace. Trying to carry the conversation even though Eddie keeps dropping it.

Luckily he sees a distraction by the mirror. Christopher stares at himself, smiling. Eddie walks over and crouches down next to him. “Hey, buddie, what are you looking at?”

“Denny said I had a piece of spinach stuck in my teeth,” Christopher says, “but I… can’t see it.”

Eddie studies his son’s teeth, aware of the figures standing behind him. “I don’t see it either.”

“Denny probably did that so he could cheat,” Hen sighs, “boy is the sorest of losers.”

“You should get back to your game, then, before you end up in last place.” Eddie squeezes Christopher’s shoulders, resigned to losing his shield against the circling vultures. He reaches forward and places a hand on the mirror’s frame, using it to steady his ascent.

At full height, Eddie notices his reflection fading somewhat. Suddenly a figure pops up, smiling and sweating, frozen in mid stretch.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Buck rushes over, smile twitching with nerves, “what, uh… what’s everybody doing?”

Chimney jerks his thumb at the scene. “Wondering why there’s a man trapped in your mirror?”

“There is?” Buck feigns surprise, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. “I don’t - I don’t know how he got there?”

“What? Of course you do, Buck,” Maddie says, joining the conversation, “I helped you set him up and everything.”

“Maddie -”

“Maddie,” Chimney cuts Buck off, “you know what’s going on?”

She nods, pointing to the man in the mirror with her cup. “Being Buck’s sister I was the only one who was forced to listen to him complain about how he was going to lose everything he worked so hard for. Just because he couldn’t work out like he used to because of the accident. One day while listening to him go on and on about it this ad popped up for mirrors that double as personal trainers.” A string snaps in Eddie’s mind, the sound echoing madly. He looks over to Buck, the other man watching his feet while his ears burn. “Anyway I said I would personally buy this mirror for him if it would get him to shut up. He agreed, but only if he liked it. Day after it arrived Buck wasn’t complaining anymore. Best paycheck I ever spent…”

“Wait,” Hen glances between Maddie and the mirror, “so this is a personal trainer?”

“Yeah,” Maddie leans over to tap the glass, despite Buck’s attempts to stop her. The screen shifts and an array of faces smile at them. Derek’s larger than the rest, head enlarged and name clearly labeled below it.

There he was. Derek .

“You can pick from a whole array of trainers depending on what classes you want. It’s really interesting, and Buck seems to like it.”

“Maddie -”

“I figured you all knew about it since he’s replaced complaining with praising his trainer Derek,” she chuckles, elbowing her brother. “Little teacher’s pet.”

“ Maddie .”

Their small crowd thins after that. Christopher returns to his game, and Chimney leads Maddie towards the kitchen to steal some more food. Eddie stares at Derek, a mixture of confusion and relief churning in his stomach.

Hen sidles up to him. “You wanna know something?”

“What?”

“That Derek guy kind of looks like you.”

Eddie whips around in shock, ready to fire a denial. She dips before he can pull the trigger, safe by her wife’s side. Loaded and nowhere to go, Eddie looks at Derek. Sees how, in a certain light, they could be reflections of each other. However Derek’s hair is much longer than his, pulled tight in a bun, And there’s a mole under his nose that draws the eye to it without trying.

Derek disappears, the mirror returning to normal. It’s his face gazing back at him now, Eddie’s a few inches to his side.

“So,” he says, “you’ve met Derek.”

“Yeah. I did.” Eddie turns to him, “Why didn’t you tell me he was in your mirror? I’ve been here how many times, used this mirror, and it had a double life?”

“I… I guess I was embarrassed,” Buck tells him, wringing his hands, “of…”

He guesses, “Of him being in a mirror.”

“Well, that,” Buck says, eyes bouncing around the room, unable to meet Eddie’s stare, “and, because…” His words dissolve into dust.

Eddie understands. Finally sees what he needs. An emotion reflected in his own eyes, not distorted by doubt or fear.

“Y’know,” he starts, running a hand across the mirror’s surface, “this is pretty cool.”

“...It is.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, smiling at Buck’s face in the mirror, “think you could invite me over the next time you use this?”

Buck frowns, “Why? You already got a good routine going.”

“I’ve been in the mood to shake things up,” Eddie tells him, “and besides… I missed working out with you.”

“You did?” Mood shifting rapidly, Eddie swoons at the dizzying grin lighting up Buck’s face.

“Of course…” Eddie’s hand runs across Buck’s reflection, petting his chest, “there’s a lot of time I have to make up for. We can start with exercise and… go from there.”

Buck nods enthusiastically. “I’d like that.”

The party goes on without them, both men are lost in their own world. Eddie feels the darkness that ate at his heart fade, replaced by the warm embrace of understanding. In lieu of talking Eddie prepares for his exercise date. Stretches the words in his mind so they’ll be ready for the day. Imagines how it will go. And, when successful, Eddie kisses Buck. Derek long gone from the mirror. Only them captured inside it.

#9 1 1 fox #buddie #buddie fic #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #Christopher Diaz #chimeny han #hen wilson #maddie buckley #buck x eddie #buck/eddie

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welcometocaritas · 4 years

Text

‘IF YOU LOVE ME, DON’T LET GO’

Chapter: 3/7

Characters: Yumiko & Magna

Pairing: Yumagna

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Format: Multi-Chap

Summary: At some point, you just have to let go - or so Yumiko keeps telling herself. There was never any letting go of Magna.

Links: A03, FF.NET, Wattpad

A/N: Oh my god, this chapter was such a bitch to write. The words did not flow right all, it’s so clumsy. So huge apology in advance.

TW: there's a brief mention of drug overdose in this chapter

"For a long time after his rescue, Buck did not like Thornton to get out of his sight. From the moment he left the tent to when he entered it again, Buck would follow at his heels. His transient masters since he had come into the Northland had bred in him a fear that no master could be permanent. He was afraid that Thornton would pass out of his life as Perrault and Francois and the Scotch half-breed had passed out. Even in the night, in his dreams, he was haunted by this fear. At such times he would shake off sleep and creep through the chill to the flap of the tent, where he would stand and listen to the sound of his master's breathing."

- The Call of the Wild by Jack London

. . .

Magna had never been good at romantic relationships. They were too . . . messy. Too complicated. Too many ways for things to go wrong. She and Miko hadn't even been together for a year and it was still the longest any of her relationships - if you could even call them that - had lasted. In a way, she'd been waiting for it to fall apart from the moment it started.

Friendship, she could do. She knew how to be a friend. She knew better how to deal with those expectations.

But the way that sometimes she felt like she couldn't breathe when Miko was away from her, the punch of air back into her lungs when they touched, the constant need ...

She didn't know how to deal with that. Wasn't comfortable with dealing with that. Or that ever present fear at the back of her mind - what would she do if one day Miko went away and never came back?

(She wondered if her mother had felt this way about her father once; recoiled)

It was illogical, but a part of her hoped that if she could just put a little distance between them, if she could push them back over that line they'd dared to cross, then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much when she finally lost her.

Stupid.

She suspected she would always feel this way about Yumiko, whether they were friends or lovers . . . or even if one day they became strangers to each other. Her heart wasn't good at letting people go. It was hard to find a way in, but once someone did . . .they never left. And maybe she resented Miko for how deeply she'd buried herself. But Magna had let her do it. Miko hadn't forced her way in - she wouldn't - she didn't have to. She had kept to the edges patiently until slowly, inch by inch, Magna had opened the door for her.

She had been the first person she'd learnt to trust again after prison. In truth, she'd made it possible for her to go on to trust others. Connie, Kelly and Luke - hell even Bernie - hadn't had to wait nearly as long. She was still unsure if that was a good or a bad thing. Whether it made her weaker or stronger. It certainly provided her with more to lose, more room for betrayal.

But it did make life easier to bear in a way.

Gave her a reason to be.

She'd grown up looking after her brother and cousins. In prison and after, she'd floundered somewhat without that purpose. When they'd formed their group, which had been so much larger than it eventually became, she'd fallen back into her old role.

She'd found that purpose again.

But just as she'd failed to protect her cousin, she'd also failed to protect Bernie and Connie, and everyone else in their group who had fallen over the years. The people who Magna hadn't known quite as well or been nearly as attached to but still felt responsible for.

There'd been one child. Sarah. Twelve years old. She'd entered their group only briefly - had left it, first, after one single tiny inconsequential bite; and, finally, at end of Magna's knife. Like Maisie, she was a black hole in her memory that she took care to shy away from, lest she fall in.

Or what might have become of her remaining cousins, who she hadn't seen since before the outbreak. Her brother had overdosed at the beginning of her third year in prison - she still blamed herself for not being there to stop him - and she couldn't decide if that was better or worse: surviving like they were, or dying before you were forced to see what became of the world and humanity. Morgan had never been good with violence. Had closed his eyes during fight scenes on TV, whilst she pulled on his hair teasingly and stole popcorn from his unprotected lap. He wouldn't have made it here. Or if he had, he would have hated himself for it.

He wouldn't have been able to live with murder. Not like Magna.

He'd never even visited her in prison.

It wasn't . . . anger, or revulsion. He just hadn't been able to face what she'd done, to align it with the memories he'd had of the girl who'd taught him to tie his shoelaces and how to make daisy chains.

(and perhaps the memory of the fight they'd had after Maisie had died - the only fight they'd ever had, in which Magna had completely lost it at him for ditching the child he was supposed to be babysitting because the girl he'd had a crush on for the last three months had called him up at the last second to invite him to come around - had also kept him away, kept him distant. Even now, so many years later, she was still a mess of resentment for that, and haunted by the guilt and regret of throwing it in his face, for never apologizing, for never hugging him after that point and . . .)

In truth: she hadn't wanted him to come, to see her in that place. She didn't know what to say to him. What could she say? That she was sorry? She wasn't. She didn't even regret it. It would have been too much of a struggle for him to wrap his head around.

Like Miko, he'd had a firm sense of right and wrong; a rigid morality.

Magna had always been far more flexible with hers. She didn't mind the grey areas, the places people were scared to look at too long. They made sense to her, in a way black and white never could.

. . .

"I told her once I wasn't good at anything. She told me survival is a talent."

― Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted

. . .

( 'We could've taken those walkers.'

'We had a split-second decision to make-'

'You made the decision.'

'Look, when shit hits the fan, somebody's got to step up.

So, yeah, I listen to what everybody has to say, I weigh it all up- '

'And then you do what you were gonna do anyway.'

'Where the hell is all of this coming from?'

'You're not my lawyer anymore.')

At the back of her mind, there'd always been a part of her that worried that Miko felt responsible for her. It was the only thing that made sense as to why she'd chosen to stick around, even before the world ended. Why she would bully Magna into weekly coffee dates and used up most of her petrol constantly visiting the truck stop just so she could keep her company during her shifts - and prevent her from losing her mind to boredom, which had been an ever growing possibility before Yumiko had taken to showing up regularly.

She was a do-gooder; Magna had surmised that almost within their first thirty minutes of meeting.

When she'd gotten out of prison, she'd noticed how Miko's house was never quite clean of the overabundance of dog and cat hairs from the stray animals she couldn't seem to stop herself from collecting. She took cases on pro bono and in the nearly three years Magna had known her, had spent every Christmas volunteering at a soup kitchen - something she only knew about because her mother had called up Magna during her first Christmas on the outside to try and get her to talk Miko into spending the holidays at home; and of course 'Yumi' could bring her new friend along, because Magna worked far too hard and wasn't it just the cruelest thing to make an old woman (Yumiko's mother was only forty-five) spend the night alone in her old, empty apartment and, well, she listened to Magna you see . . . Magna had quickly agreed and hung up before Yumiko's mother tried to adopt her on the chance that her daughter might visit more if her childhood home grew to contain one disgruntled young ex-con with far too many tattoos for such a 'beautiful girl' like her - and she'd been already getting cabin fever just by speaking on the phone to Miss Nakamura.

It had been somewhat frustrating to realize the older woman was right when Miko caved within a minute of Magna trying to convince her to spend Christmas with her mother, on the condition that she came along to (the outbreak had saved Magna from having to make good on that deal, something that over the years she'd actually grown to find somewhat regrettable, if only because it would have been nice to have another memory of Miko being happy to look back on).

The fact of the matter was, though, that when someone was in trouble, Yumiko couldn't keep herself away. It was exasperating (and endearing).

Magna might have rolled her eyes - because she had a hard time believing anyone would do something for nothing, for no more reason than that they wanted to help, in any way they could - except she knew Miko and she knew it was genuine. That it wasn't just a way to make herself look better, or to fluff up her ego with the knowledge of how good she was. She did it because she cared, because she couldn't do nothing when there was an option of doing something.

So she'd saved the younger woman from prison, found an apartment block that wasn't too expensive or degraded, and helped her get a job when all Magna had been faced with were rejections.

And if she hadn't needed help, to be looked after in the beginning, she wondered if Miko would have even bothered to keep in contact. Because, really, what else was there to attract a talented lawyer from an upper middle class family to a high school drop-out only recently out of prison, who at that point could aspire to little more than working all-night shifts at a seedy truck stop?

It was a question that had kept Magna up at nights, made the weight of Miko's head on her chest almost suffocating.

The apocalypse had changed things, yes. Suddenly, Magna's prison experience and history of getting into fist fights was useful. Her distrustful nature and, at times, questionable morality were the kind of personality traits that might just keep you alive in this hellhole. She didn't need to be good at maths or literature or humanities. Magna could knock a man three times her weight flat on his back the second things turned sideways and still have enough stamina to take on another, and another.

So, she could understand, then, why Yumiko had stuck by her after civilization fell. She didn't question that.

But Miko liked to control things, to know that everything was in its place and everyone was alright, everyone was safe -and in some ways that extended to Magna.

Yumiko had graduated top of her class - both from high school and law school - and, whether she realized it or not, had gotten used to being the smartest person in the room, the most level-headed. She'd never admit to it openly but Magna knew that a lot of the time she thought she knew best - and a lot of the time she did. But it could make Magna feel like such an idiot, sometimes, in her presence.

(like back when they'd been going over trial strategies all those years ago and Yumiko had listened patiently to every idea Magna threw at her, only to later reject them all anyway and that was okay, because Magna was the prisoner and Yumiko was the lawyer and she'd already fucked this up for herself once but that was then, and this was now and-)

She would inwardly - and all too often outwardly - bristle and fume, stalking off before Yumiko had a chance to stop her, before she had to look a second longer at that confused and worried - and hurt - face.

Because Magna wasn't an idiot.

She wasn't smart, not the kind of smart that Miko was, that the other kids at school were, and in the way the teachers wanted her to be, but she knew things. She knew how to survive. To survive in a world that didn't and never had wanted her.

And if Miko didn't realize that - if, even after all these years, she could look upon Magna the same way her aunt had, her brother had, every fucking school teacher that had ever shaken their head and sighed at a lost cause had; that very same pity and defeat that had come to rest upon her lawyer's face within only fifteen minutes of meeting . . . all that condescension and exasperation and disappointment-

If she looked at her like that, thought of her in that way, then why the hell would Miko want to be with her in the first place? What would keep her from moving on to someone else, someone smarter, less impulsive, less of a handful . . . someone better?

Just because she hadn't already didn't mean she never would. It wasn't like they had been spoiled for choice over the last ten years, there weren't a lot of viable dating candidates in the middle of the apocalypse - especially if you were a lesbian. Or, at least, that had been the case until they'd encountered Alexandria; until they'd moved into Hilltop, and traveled down to Oceanside for fortnightly training routines; until they'd been suddenly surrounded by so many people, so many smart and stable and kind people, many of them with only half as many issues as Magna, even less of them possessing her caustic attitude and liability to fuck things up.

Eventually, Yumiko would start to notice, start to look, start to wonder . . . and then she would be gone.

Except . . . they had been living at Hilltop for a year and the only time Yumiko had looked like she was even considering walking away was when Magna had forced her to. And even that hadn't been enough to make her leave, not really.

Even that hadn't stopped Miko from latching onto her after she stepped out of the horde, from looking at her like she'd just arrived with a gallon of water for someone who'd been lost in a desert for weeks. It hadn't stopped her from holding onto Magna, minutes, hours later, even after she was assured of her well-being.

She didn't look at her like a stray dog that pity had forced her to take in and which she now couldn't get rid of. She didn't blame Magna for not having Connie with her, for not being good enough and capable enough to save her - even though she had to know it was her fault; because she'd had Connie, she'd had her hand in hers, and she'd just . . . let it slip away.

She'd let her down. Just like she'd let Bernie down. And her brother and-and . . . Maisie.

She let everyone down.

Her own mother had gone to prison because Magna had been too scared to testify in court, to convince a jury that it wasn't her fault, that she was good, that she'd only been trying to stop her husband from thrusting that broken beer bottle at her daughter's face after Magna had accidentally knocked three coronas to the floor.

She let Miko down.

She'd lied to her for thirteen years and she'd convinced herself that she was doing it for both of them, that she was only saving the woman from a pain she didn't have to experience, she was keeping her close, where Magna could keep her alive, keep her safe . . .

But she knew, deep down, from the very beginning, that the only person she was protecting was herself.

And she didn't even do that right.

But Miko had punched Carol in the face - Yumiko had punched someone, calm level-headed Miko who thought violence was a fool's weapon when you could achieve something just by talking, and had made a living out of doing exactly that - she'd punched someone, for Magna, and demanded that they beg her forgiveness. And she'd never seen her so furious, so reckless, so willing to make an enemy out of someone when it would gain her nothing.

And she had done it all for Magna.

And, somehow, that sight had terrified her more than the thought of Miko walking away ever had.

(She hears the squelch as the knife sinks in, feels the unexpected spray of blood against her teenage face - hears the shot, the weight of a body collapsing on her, sees Miko's horrified face-)

Because she'd realized then, that all her suspicions, all her fears . . . they were nothing, they'd been for nothing. Because she'd understood then that Miko would never walk away, not from her. No matter what she did, what she'd done . . .

She may still doubt it, sometimes, may always doubt it because that was what Magna did - she doubted things . . .

But now she knew.

She knew Yumiko loved her. Would always love her.

And Magna had never wanted to run away faster in her life.

Because the only time Yumiko had looked at her like she'd let her down was that night in their room, when she'd pulled the rug out from under her, obliterating thirteen years of blind trust.

She had already hurt her once. And if she loved Magna as much as she loved Miko, then there was no telling the kind of pain she could cause her. She could break Miko's heart - more than break, she could destroy it - and she wasn't sure she trusted herself not to; to not ruin the only good thing that had ever happened to her.

. . .

"I wonder if I will ever have the strength to hold onto something. Or if I will always be someone who destroys."

― Ally Condie, Matched

A/N: Thanks so much for sticking with this story. I would really appreciate if you commented and let me know what you think about how things are going so far, what you like or don’t like. I’m working really hard on this and it would be a huge deal to me.

In other news, I have the idea for two sequel oneshots to this now. One of them fluffy, the other a little bit less so but not as angsty as this either.

#yumagna #nadia hilker #eleanor matsuura #the walking dead #twd #twd edit #twd fanfiction #magna twd #yumiko twd #yumiko #yumiko x magna #magniko #mypost #my post #myfic #yumagna fanfic

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goddessofmadnessheiress · 5 years

Text

New Year’s Travel - A Bucky fanfic

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: None. Based on this post.

Summary: Your Best friend invited you to a New Year’s party, but your flight to New York is late and a mysterious guy gets your attention on tinder.

Warnings: None

Words: 2749 (I got a little carried away and wrote a long fic)

Notes: @asongofmarvelanddc and @thorman-barnes it is kind of late, but I’m posting it today. Hope you like. I’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, English isn’t my first language.

(Y/e/c/): your eyes’ color; (Y/c/n): your city’s name; (Y/n): your name; (Y/n/n): your nickname; (Y/l/n): you last name; (Y/h/c): you hair color;

Definitely this is the worst Christmas day of your life! Why have you chosen to travel to New York in December 25th? Why?

You are sitting in the airport with your ticket in hand waiting for your flight to be called. The airport is so full of people that at least three of them tripped on your bags resting in front of your feet.

You rolls your eyes when a kid on your left let his Captain America’s doll falls to the ground and it get kicked by people till it get broken.

You get up when the little boy starts crying out loud. You are carrying two bags and your backpack so it is hard to you not hit someone accidently. And that is exactly what you do.

Your (Y/e/c) eyes are clued on the ticket on your hand, they are trying to see which gate you will be called so you don’t go too far from it, when you bump in a guy using a red hood hiding his face.

“I’m so sorry!” You say shyly but loud enough to be heard. When your eyes search for the man you realize he is already far for hearing you properly.

You are going in the same direction that the mysterious guy went, you trying to reach the coffee shop but is hard to walk when people bump in you all the time. That is when you listen to the announcement:

Your flight is going to be late for who knows how long for a reason unannounced.

You sigh out loud while sitting on a chair close to the coffee shop. The young and smiling waitress is waiting for your order.

“A coffee and a chocolate donut, please?” You ask her smiling back and the girl motion her head in a simple ‘yes’.

You are looking at your phone trying to find your best friends number to call her when someone sits by your side in the empty chair on your right.

“They have the best donuts here.” When you hear the deep voice you almost scream out loud. Rising your eyes for the screen you look to your right just to see the red hood from before.

You feel your checks warming for no apparent reason. You are about to answer the mysterious guys and apologize once again when your phone starts to ring out loud your favorite song.

In the screen a photo of your best friend is flashing while you see her nickname Reddy just below the smiling photo.

“Hi Wanda.” You answer your phone smiling to yourself.

“Where are you?” She screams on the other side and you laugh with her despair.

“I’m in (Y/c/n)’s airport but my flight Will be late.”

“Why? How long will it take?” You can picture her head slight falling to the side in confusion.

“I don’t know. They didn’t explain.” You answer feeling two eyes clued to the back of your head.

“But (y/n/n) you need to meet him.” Your friend sounds like a little kid and you can’t contain your laughter.

“Relax, Reddy. I will be there before the New Year’s Eve okay?”

“Okay…” She sounds like she does not believe you. “Call me when you get in here. See you.”

“I’ll call you, I swear. See you.” And just then you hang up.

You start to wonder who this guys that Wanda wants you to meet is. Wanda Maximoff is your best friend for a while now, you two meet when she was visiting (Y/c/n) for her work.

She never entered in details about her work but she wants you to meet her bother and her colleagues. That is the reason she invited you to New York for her boss big New Year’s party.

Wanda asked to you go one week before this party so she could introduce you to a single friend of her. You said you could only go in the December 25th because you always pass the 24th night with your family.

Wanda didn’t tell you much about this guy just that he was the perfect match for you. Since you were looking for someone the past months you said you could meet him.

As you are afraid this Wanda’s friend not being the best option as she said you still had the tinder app on you phone.

And that is exactly what you are using when the smiling waitress got you your coffee and your donut. You notice by the corner of your eyes that the mysterious guys by your right have a hot chocolate and a strawberry donut on his front.

You are looking at your tinder while eating your delicious breakfast when you felt the mysterious guys looking your phone’s screen over your shoulder. As you think this is something of your head you don’t say anything at all while he is singing a 40’s song that your grandma loves.

And then a photo of a perfect guy appears as an option for you. Apparently he is in this same region as you at this same time.

The guy named James is exactly your type. His photo has a huge smile that shows his too white and aligned teeth, his blue eyes are so light that are almost grey and have a shine in them.

His long and brown hair and beard are so opposite to his white pale skin that it looks like a cartoon character. And you can see his eight pack under his black t-shirt and it makes you feel wet under your lace panties.

The description about him under the photo just makes him more perfect. He likes to read books, listen to classic songs and going to the theater. This James guys is so perfect that seems so impossible to be real.

As you use tinder for a while now it makes you believe this is a fake profile. So without thinking twice you hit the X icon before your heart gets broken by other guy who lies in internet.

So that is when you hear an “Ouch!” from that deep voice on your right shoulder. “Hard no for that one?” The mysterious guy asks.

You turn already ready to say to this stranger guy to go take care of his own business but you cut yourself even before opening your big mouth.

You have turned just to see that exactly same face you just denied on tinder centimeters close to your own face.

“Are you James?” You ask of nowhere and the handsome guy just smile that smile that makes your knees go weak for a second before it turning into a grimace.

“I prefer Bucky.” He answers simply shrugging as he moves away from you and goes back to his strawberry donut.

You turn back to your own plate just to see the waitress laughing at your shocked face. As you are almost dying of shame and sure that he gave up on you he says:

“You know what is not fair?” Your turn to him just to see him putting his hood out of his face. His right elbow is in the counter while his left fingers are tangled in his hair to put it out of the front of his baby blue orbs. “You know my name and I still have no idea of yours.”

“Oh…” That is all you can say before he starts laughing out loud. His eyes shine with happiness and his laugh is so angelical that you almost forget what his ask was.

Almost.

“So… your name is really Oh or are you avoiding me?” He asks in a soft voice.

“My name is (Y/n). (Y/n) (Y/l/n).” You answer smiling politely.

“A beautiful name for an even beautiful face. I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” He extends his left hand to shake yours. “But you already know it.” You smile more but before you could answer he says: “About my name of course because I hope to be the first one to notice your beauty.” And then he winks at you.

And then you start to laugh out loud and he soon follows you with laughter. But before you could stop yourself you ask what is on your mind for a little while.

“If you prefer being called Bucky why the hell is written James on your tinder profile?” And when your brain realizes what your big mouth said your checks go bright red and Bucky just smiles sweetly.

“I’ll answer it.” He says in a flirting way with a (Y/h/c) lock of your hair in between his fingers. “With one condition…” His fingers put your lock behind your ear.”You answer one of my questions.”

And again before your brain processes what your mouth says you are already agreeing with his conditions.

“My friends had done a tinder for me. They said I need to find someone. I don’t even know how to use this app.” He answers sincerely and you crack a little smile.

“I see… My best friend is exactly the same way. She wants me to meet a friend of her.” You answer rolling your (Y/e/c) eyes. And before you open your mouth for another question his finger is already on your lips.

You low your face and let your eyes clue to the ground while your lock that Buck put behind your ear falls in front of your face again.

“Now is my turn asking.” His soft voice says while his soft finger hooks under your chin and lifts your face to look in your (Y/e/c) eyes.

His baby blue eyes looks with yours hidden behind the slim curtain of hair and the blue shines a lot more than you are used so a pink goes to his checks to match your own.

“Why you denied me?” His voice is neutral. He is not offended or sad about your choice, he is truly curious about your train of thoughts.

“It looked too perfect to be real.” You answer slowly not afraid of being sincere. “Almost a prince charming you know?” And then Bucky fought against a little smile that tried to get to his lips. “And I discovered in the hardest way that no one is that charming in this app.”

Before Bucky could answer a deafening beep interrupts your train of thoughts. That is the moment when is announced that your flight is open to board. You look at your clock and realize that you have waited for 3 hours.

Your flight is late by 3 hours.

You jump from your sit and get your two bags and your back pack sad that you need to say goodbye to Bucky. You look in his direction and that is when you realize he is standing too with only a back pack smiling down at you.

“I think this is our flight huh?” He asks smiling and going to the same gate as yours.

You run a little distance to catch with his rhythm and when you are side by side with him you slow down. None of you talk to each other but you two follow till the plane side by side in a comfortable silence.

When you two are ready to enter the plane he lets you enter before him. When your turn to tanks him he is already gone.

You find your sit and there looking to the bench before yours you start to wonder. Was he real? Has all of this truly happened or are you hallucinating?

How the hell he disappeared so fast?

That is when you listen to that deep and soft voice asking:

“Is this the 327 sit?” When you look to the man above your sit you see Bucky smiling down at you with his red hood kneaded.

“Yes. My sit is 328.” And then he jumps in the sit next to yours smiling, his backpack already on place.

“I’m sorry. People entered before me and after that it was hard to catch with you.” He says laughing. “Who would know that I was going to sit by the side of the most charming woman where huh?”

You feel you face burning and you try to hide it with your hair. “Are you a charmer, aren’t you?” You ask laughing still trying to hide.

“Maybe.” He answers getting your hair out of your face when you try to hide for the third time. His soft voice asks gently: “Please don’t. You don’t need to hide, you are prettier when blushing.”

His face is so close to yours that you can smell his mint breath and it mixing with our own.

His baby blue orbs go to your lips and then your eyes and back to you lips as if asking for permission.

You close your eyes and leans in his direction but before you could taste his lips against yours a robotic voice says:

“Please passengers put your belts. We are ready to leave.”

You and Bucky reluctantly move away from each other to put your belts and that is when you feel the plane starting to move.

Instinctively you hold the arm rest and your hand touch Bucky’s by accident.

“Afraid of high are we?” And you shakes your head in a ‘yes’ motion. That is when you feel his fingers locking around yours. “You don’t need to be afraid. I’m here with you.”

And that is what happened the rest of the flight: Bucky holding your hand and talking about life. After long torturous hours you arrive at New York.

At the New York’s airport you and Bucky are laughing out loud.

“No, seriously.” You say. “Why you like so much 40’s songs? My grandma likes them.”

“I have already told you.” Bucky says laughing too. “I’m from 40’s.”

“That would mean you have at least 90 years old James.” And he rolls his eyes with his first that he can’t get you not using it.

“But I have 90 years old (Y/n)!”

Before you could answer anything you listen to Wanda’s voice shouting your name. “(Y/n/n)!” Screams Wanda with a blond man a little older than you two and around Bucky’s age.

Maybe he is her boyfriend she talked so much?

And then this possibility got out of your head when he shouts:

“Bucky!”

‘Maybe the two aren’t even together (Y/n)…’ You think to yourself.

That is when you feel Wanda falling in your arms and wrapping you in a bear hug.

“I can’t breathe…” You say and Bucky laughs out loud. That is when Wanda looks at him and the blond man looks in your direction. You get so confused when Wanda jumps in Bucky while the unnamed man stops in front of you.

“Hi (Y/n). I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.” And then you laugh in his face.

“Steve Rogers as in Captain Steve Rogers know as Captain America?” Your tone is sarcastic but you see his smile and you realize it all. “Are you really Captain America, aren’t you?”

But before Steve has the chance to answer Bucky laughs and puts a warm hand on your waist.

“Told you I have 90 years, darling.” That is when Wanda face gets a confusion expression.

“You know each other? How? Since when?” She jumps in between you and Steve while pointing between you and Bucky.

“We meet in (Y/c/n)’s airport.” You answer and Bucky laughs. Wanda arcs her eyebrows. “Why? I know you said you had a friend to show me and all…”

“(Y/n)!” Wanda interrupts with a smile on her face. And you look at her in shock. “Bucky is the single friend I was going to introduce you to.”

“Wait…” Bucky says holding you more into him but looking at Steve. “Is (Y/n) the girl you have talked about Steve?”

Steve just shakes his head in a ‘yes’. And answers: “Let’s go. Tony will be angry if we get late in the Tower.”

“Tony as in Tony Stark? Tower as in Avenger’s Tower?” You ask and the three of them laughs but none answers you.

Instead of this Wanda and Steve starts walking with yours and Bucky’s bag. You turn to Bucky holding him in place with your hands on his muscular chest.

“So you truly have 90 years old…” You say in shock and he laughs out loud with your reaction.

“Yeah.” He answers kissing your head slowly. “But he will have time to talk about it later.” His arm goes to your shoulders holding you to his chest and following Steve and Wanda.

#bucky barnes x reader #buck barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x you #winter soldier imagine #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel imagine

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rohitkkumar · 3 years

Text

WTC final Is Virat Kohli battling worrying form in Tests? Numbers suggest so

I had a great apartment in Somerville, just outside of Boston. It was the second floor of a two family with two bedrooms, decent living room and kitchen, a full bath, off-street parking and a porch overlooking a small park. The rent was steep and I didn’t want to move, so I put an ad on Craig’s list. A lot of replies I discounted because they had pets, were smokers or just sounded way too weird. I was about to give up when I saw Megan’s response. I never considered a female roomie, but wasn’t opposed to it either.

I set up a time for her to come and see the place. She was prompt and I opened the door to see a tall, beautiful red-head. I’m six-four and she was only a couple inches shorter. She had shoulder length wavy hair, a trim figure and a great smile.

She said her roomie was getting married and would be taking over the whole apartment where they lived. She worked as a nurse in Boston and my location would be an easy commute.

I showed her around, collected a couple references and told her I’d call her. Her references were all positive, so I called her and told her I’d be looking forward to her as my new roomie.

I had some misgivings sharing with a girl. I always had guy roomies. I wondered if it would be awkward. What if I brought a girl home? I laughed and said slim chance of that with my recent dating history. What if she brought guys home? Well, I wasn’t her father, so what the hell.

Megan moved in the first weekend in May. She didn’t have much to bring. Her old roomie and her fiancé carted in a twin bed, beat up dresser, one bean bag chair, boxes of books and clothes. They got her settled and left. Megan spent the rest of the day settling in.

Around six I offered to get some pizza and beer and she readily accepted. Later as we sat in the living room we began to fill each other in on backgrounds. I’m a writer and she looked dubious. I assured her it’s a regular job with a paycheck. I work for a high tech firm writing manuals, spec sheets, a newsletter and other stuff. She’s an ER nurse and said she had strange hours. She might work three twelve hour shifts in a row and then be off for three or four days.

Megan was easy to talk to and easy to look at. I hoped I could adjust to having a beautiful woman living in my apartment.

We settled into a simple routine. I was usually up and out by 7:30. On the days Megan worked, she had to be at the hospital by 7:00, so we didn’t see too much of each other. On her days off, we usually had dinner together and started becoming good friends.

Living with a woman caused some adjustments. I was pretty much a boxers or less around the house guy. Often, I wouldn’t wear anything to go to the bathroom for a shower and I never wore clothes to bed. Now, I started wearing shorts and a t-shirt and being discreet about closing the bathroom door and other things so as not to seem like a jerk.

After about a month, the weather turned warm. The apartment had no air conditioning, so we tried to keep cool by a couple window fans, open windows and by not wearing a lot of extra clothes.

I couldn’t help but admire Megan’s figure. In running shorts, her favorite bottom, her long legs were nothing short of awesome. She favored tank tops that outlined nice but not large breasts and showed a flat and tight tummy. Her ass was phenomenal in her shorts, jeans or almost anything she wore.

We both enjoyed running and would often take a three mile run in the evenings. One night it was really hot and humid and we returned drenched. I said she could take her shower first and after mine we could hit an air conditioned neighborhood bar.

I had just finished a tall glass of water and was headed to my room, when Megan came out of the bath. She held a towel in front of her and we almost ran into each other. We apologized and she turned to head into her run. Her back was completely exposed. I looked at her ass and blurted out, “Holy shit.”

She looked over her shoulder said, “Oops. Sorry.” She dashed into her room and closed the door. I went into the bath and stripped off my wet running clothes, struggling to get my shorts over my erection that popped up the second I saw that perfect butt.

Now I love women and don’t have any dominant fetish about any one part. All parts appeal to me. But, Megan did have the best ass I had ever seen in clothes. Now, seeing it naked and moving, it literally took my breath away. I’d put it right up with Nicole Kidman. It was tight, round and luscious. My hand strayed to the rod sticking out and, after a few minutes of attention, brought the release I needed.

I dried, dressed and Megan and I walked the few blocks to a bar. The cool interior was a relief as were the tall draft Sam Adams we had.

We sat at the bar and paid a little attention to the Red Sox game on the tube, but mostly drank, ate bar peanuts and didn’t talk. That was unusual for us, because we talked to each other all the time.

Finally I broke the ice, “Megan, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…well, I mean, I didn’t expect to see your…what I’m trying to say is I hardly saw anything, honest.”

Megan had a great smile that lit up her entire face, and she turned it on full blast. “Jake, you said ‘Holy shit’. So I gotta imagine you saw my ass.”

“Sorry, Meg. I was just surprised.”

“Yeah,” she answered as she sipped her beer. “You know I’ve been thinking about this sort of thing and have come to the understanding that living with the opposite sex roomie has its challenges.”

“Challenges?” I asked.

She nodded and said,”Let me ask you something and promise to answer honestly. Before I was here, what did you wear around the apartment?”

“Boxers,” I said and then smiled and added, “or less.”

“Exactly,” Megan said. “Now you’re wearing shorts or pants all the time. Now, me, I am sort of a let it all hang out girl. My old roomie was a nurse too and we worked a lot of the same shifts. We’d get home and feel really grubby from being around sick and hurt people. So, we’d just about get in the door and we were stripping. We’d throw our stuff in a big hamper and walk around bare-assed drinking wine or beer until we each had our showers. Most days, it was just bikini bottoms around the house—at the most. When her fiancé moved in, we discussed it and said we weren’t going to alter our habits. I can guarantee you he never complained.” The last bit she offered with a grin.

I didn’t know where this conversation was going so I did what most guys do, kept my mouth shut and drank beer.

“So,” Megan continued, “as I said I’ve been thinking about it. I think I have an idea that will help.”

“What?” I asked.

“Tell you when we get home,” she said and ordered us two more beers.

At least this conversation broke the ice and we started chatting normally. We ended up splitting a burger and fries at the bar and had two more beers.

Arriving back in the apartment, Megan excused herself to go pee. I was sitting on the couch watching the end of the Red Sox when she came back in.

“So, do you want to hear my idea?”

“Sure.”

“I say we just get it over with and then we can relax.”

“Get what over with?”

“Being afraid one of us is going to see the other person naked or be seen partially naked or whatever. Or worse, imagining what the other person looks like naked. We need to get rid of the big curiosity factor.”

“Megan, I haven’t been trying to spy on you if that’s what you mean.”

“No, I’m not saying that, Jake. But, let’s be honest. I see you looking at me sometimes when I have that old tank top and my nipples are poking out. Hey, I’m not pissed, but just saying that’s natural. I’m a girl, you’re a guy and we get curious.”

“Meg, I’m really embarrassed. I don’t want you to think I’m like mentally undressing you all the time. Ok, I will admit that one tank top is provocative, but I didn’t think I was that obvious.”

Megan laughed and her laugh was one of the sweetest sounds I ever heard. “You weren’t that obvious, but I knew you were looking. And, true confessions, I was flattered. Besides, after the first time, I could’ve chosen not to wear that again. So, I guess I was being a bit of a tease.”

She continued, “So we can agree there is some curiosity and that each of us has had to adapt to living with the opposite sex. I think it’s stupid, so let’s get it over with.”

I still did not get it. “Megan, I don’t want to appear to be stupid, but what are you talking about?”

Again the brilliant smile, “What I’m talking about, Jake, is that right now, right here in our living room, we strip off. We get buck naked and let the other person see it all. No more secrets, no more sneak peeks. Let it all hang out and then we can get back to living the way we want.”

“So, you’re saying we undress in front of each other?”

“Jake, that’s exactly what I’m saying. So, stand up and let’s do it.”

I felt as if I were moving in a dream, but I stood. Facing each other, I pulled my polo shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor. Megan removed her t-shirt exposing a sports bra. She then dropped her shorts to reveal a pair of pink bikini bottoms. I undid my belt, praying that I would not get a hard-on and embarrass myself to death.

Megan looked at my boxers that were decorated with Patriot’s logos and just shook her head.

In a fluid motion she pulled her bra over her head and without hesitation bent and tugged her panties to the floor, kicking them free with her foot. I stared at the magnificent naked body in front of me.

I was brought back to reality with a pronounced, “Ahem” from Megan.

I realized I still had my boxers on. I slowly slid them off and straightened to face her. She did not hesitate to look me up and down, spending some time on my crotch. She motioned with her finger and I turned my back to her.

“Holy shit,” she exclaimed. We both burst out laughing at her imitation of me. I turned back to face her. She raised her hand and we high-fived.

I once again took in her body. Her breasts were on the small side, but stood out proudly from her chest. She had almost no areoles topped by dark, tiny nipples that appeared to be erect. Her tummy was flat and tight. She had a belly button ring that made her navel stand out. Her pussy was the same shade as her hair, a mixture of reds and strawberry blond. She slightly trimmed the side and the top, but the rest was a wondrous jungle of tufts, curls and color.

Her breasts and crotch were lily white as opposed to the fair complexion of the rest of her body. I knew she would never tan, but there was a nice contrast between her sex parts and the rest of her body.

She watched me looking and then turned to give me a full view of the fantastic ass I glimpsed just a few hours ago. I now saw each cheek had a delicate dimple. Her back and legs were muscled but smooth.

I was using every ounce of willpower to keep my dick from getting hard.

“So, there,” she said. “We’ve each seen it all.”

“What now,” I asked? “What are the rules?”

Megan smiled and said, “Simple. No rules. If either of us doesn’t want to wear clothes, then we don’t. If we do, we do. No hassle, no pressure, and best of all, no wondering. Deal?”

It didn’t take me long to figure that the deal would mean I probably would be looking at one of the best bodies I had ever seen and so said “Deal.”

Megan extended her hand and we shook.

“Now, I’m going to bed. I’ve got to be in early. ‘Night, Jake.”

“‘Night, Meg.”

As I lay trying to get to sleep, I kept replaying the scene of her stripping and the view of her naked body. My dick rose to the occasion this time and my hand helped relieve the tension it was carrying.

I didn’t see Megan for three days. I had two night meetings and went to a Red Sox game with some buddies. The next time I saw her was Saturday morning.

I woke around 8 and had to pee. I started to pull on my boxers and then thought, maybe I don’t need them. Then, I thought maybe Megan had second thoughts or really didn’t want me to actually walk around the apartment swinging in the breeze. I covered my bets by picking up my boxers, but not putting them on. I figured I could just hold them in front of me if I ran into Megan and she seemed shocked.

I opened my bedroom door and noticed Megan’s door was open. I headed to the bathroom and heard her call out, “‘Morning.”

I turned to see her walking my way with a mug of coffee in one hand and the Globe in the other. She wore tiny blue bikinis and nothing else.

I slid my boxers in front of me and said good morning and motioned to the bathroom.

She nodded and then said, “What’s with the boxers?”

“Uh, I, well, I was just carrying them in case, you know, that maybe being naked wasn’t…”

“Jake, I thought we covered that. Go balls out all the time. It’s cool. I don’t mind. Hell, it’s nice to see a tight bod. And, in case you are wondering, I think you have a good dick and great ass. Very good, actually. Ok? So, chill.”

I grinned and tossed the boxers back into my room. From that moment on, it was very casual in our apartment.

Boston was in the midst of one of the worst heat waves in our history. Both Megan and I appreciated being able to strip off and cool down. On the evenings she was home, we settled into a little routine. We’d have a light supper of salad and white wine, put a fan in front of the couch, turn off the lights and watch a ball game or pick a movie to watch, or sit on our porch, all while being nude or sometimes Megan wore tiny bikini panties.

We alternated movie selection. One night it might be a chick-flic romance for her and the next a shoot-em-up or spy one for me. Neither complained about the other’s choice and we each loved making caustic comments about the inane plots of any of the genres. When watching baseball, we’d comment on the players, which ones were good guys and which were assholes. Megan asked why guys kept pulling at their crotches. I tried to explain adjusting the boys, but she felt they could do that in the dugout and not on the field. All in all, we soon hardly took notice of our nudity—well, actually I always noticed her body, but I certainly didn’t complain.

One particularly hot evening, we were watching a Sox game. We were both damp with sweat and finally Megan said, “I need something really cool to drink.”

I said how about frozen Margaritas.

We agreed and both headed to the kitchen. Megan said she’d get the blender and I pulled out the booze and dug in the fridge for limes. I was turning to get a knife to slice the limes just as Megan was backing up from retrieving the blender from under the counter. She was still bent over and her butt was sticking up in the air. I turned and she moved back and suddenly my dick was right between her ass cheeks.

She yelled, “Whoa!” and I stumbled back. My embarrassment went off the chart when I immediately got hard from this unexpected contact.

“Jake, what the…” Megan stopped in mid-sentence as she turned and saw my erection.

“Oh, boy,” she said softly.

“Sorry, Meg, that was totally an accident.”

She looked directly at my erect member and said, “And, that is the result of this accident?”

I smiled dopily and said, “You know they have a mind of their own. Sorry, I’ll go put some clothes on.”

“No,” Megan commanded. “Actually, this is sort of the last barrier of curiosity. I admit I wondered what your dick looked like hard. So, now I know.”

We both looked down at my erection, and, honestly, without me doing anything, it bounced.

We laughed and Megan said, “Well, hell-o to you, too.”

We made our drinks and went back to the couch. I was back to almost normal. We sipped in silence for a while.

“Jake, are you Ok?”

“A little embarrassed, but, yeah, I’m Ok.”

“Well, I was wondering about this. I mean I know we say being naked around each other is cool, but you never got a hard-on. I’ve been around guys, and usually it happens a lot. God, my ex-roommate’s fiancé had a woodie half the time we were there. I think he was proud of it and I also think he was hoping that Carol and I would team up and take care of it. Never happened, I assure you. But, you’ve been pretty tame.”

“Well, I’ve been concentrating a lot to keep it down. And, if I had one, I stayed in my room until, well, let’s say it went away. Many times in the morning I have one, but just hang in my room ’til it goes away. I didn’t want you to think I was a perv and imagining you in a sexual way.’

“Jeez, Jake, don’t work yourself up. We are friends and I’d like to think we are very good friends. I don’t think we are going to screw each other by mistake, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have sexual thoughts. I like looking at you naked. I think you have a really, really attractive dick and I especially like seeing it as it swings when you walk. It’s certainly not tiny, I say that because I hear you guys are hung up on size, but it’s not grotesquely big. I think your ass is fab. And, you have a great set of balls. So, yeah, I think sexually. It’s normal.”

“God, I wish you didn’t say all that,” I moaned.

“Why, did I offend you?”

“No,” I said and looked down at my crotch. Megan followed my eyes to see a hard and upright dick.

“My bad,” she said giggling.

“I’ve think you’ve unleashed the devil. Now that he knows you’re not offended, he’s going to be popping up all the time.”

“No prob, Jake. He’s always welcome” she said as she lightly touched the top of my naked thigh.

She offered her glass and we clinked rims and drank.

“How about you and your man-spear get us a couple refills, while I just enjoy the view.”

I was amazed at how fast I was loosing my concern about parading around aroused. I returned with her drink and she asked me to stand there. She looked intently at my erection, which did nothing to ease its hardness.

“That’s very attractive, Jake. I still marvel at how hard a guy’s dick can get. Thanks for letting me stare.”

I raised my glass and we toasted silently.

After that night, Megan stopped wearing her bikini briefs even occasionally. She was always nude when we were in the apartment. It was now mid-August and a weekend when both of us were off work. I stumbled out of bed with major morning wood and went in search for coffee. Megan was in the kitchen making a pot. She had on black undies.

She turned and noticed my erection and said, “good morning my fine hard friend. It’s always good to see you.”

I shrugged and said, “Morning wood. As soon as it goes down, I’ll pee. By the way, what’s with the panties?”

Megan blushed, turning her white breasts a pretty shade of pink.

“Got a little visitor.”

“Huh, someone’s here?” I panicked thinking she might have a guy over and I didn’t want to be caught in this condition.

Megan laughed, “No, stupid, I’ve got my period.”

Now it was my turn to blush and I am sure I was scarlet from head to toe. “Sorry. It’s just that I never noticed before.”

“That’s because my last two happened while I was working.”

Talking about this feminine stuff made me go soft enough to be able to pee, so I excused myself.

Back in the kitchen I poured a mug and joined Meg at our small table.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever talked about a girl’s period before. Doing it would be weird, but not as weird as sitting here naked talking about a girl’s period.”

Laughing Megan assured me it was Ok.

“Jake, I think we can talk about anything. I don’t believe I’ve ever been as comfortable with any guy or practically any girlfriend as I am with you. You’re a great friend.”

I agreed and offered a coffee mug toast.

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