#just a giant woman that could crush you to bits but she's a sweetheart

[lostmidnightwriter]

Okay but the real question is: what would the City Watch characters look like in the Redwall universe?

I would think that they would be all different species, ranging from goodbeasts to vermin. Like, Carrot Ironfounderson would be a Badger or a Mouse, because he's such a Prince/Ruler Destiny lad. Vetinari would probably be a Cat or a Fox, something like the Greeneyes family, significantly more benevolent of course, but still a tyrant. Fred Colon would be an Otter or Hedgehog or smth, Nobby would be a Shrew or a Rat etc.

Surprisingly, I can't really place Sam Vimes. At first I thought he would be a Mouse, but now I'm thinking maybe a Rat? Or a Hare even? Idk

Let me here your suggestion fam

[jarofstyles]

hey besties, pls do a football player Harry (soccer in case ur american lol) and physical therapist y/n !!

I know absolute shit all about football (soccer bc we are American) but we can give it a go!!! Plz don’t be mad I don’t know anything about it cause it’s ✨make believe ✨

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

—-

He was a little shit.

A beautiful, charming, irritating, little shit.

When Y/N has signed on for this team, being the medic was something she had been passionate about for years. Having her own accident and making it so she couldn’t properly play anymore, it was her mission to still be involved in the game so how. Y/N’s own injury and healing process had her become more and more interested in the profession, and here she was.

It wasn’t everything she had dreamed of, as nothing ever was, but it was good. She got to sit field-side every game, close to the action. And every injury she got first look at. She helped the guys with their stretches, their previous injuries and keeping them from Re-injuring themselves, taking care of them and making sure their physical shape was the best it could be.

In general? She was happy. But there was one man who was a thorn in her side and a pain in her crotch.

Harry Styles.

The man who decided it was his personal mission to follow her around like a puppy dog. Popping up in her singular moments of peace during game day. Texting her and asking about very, very small twists of ankles and giving her the ‘🥺 maybe you should come and look at it…’ whenever he did so.

Not to mention his complete and utter want to get into her pants.

Now it wasn’t as if she couldn’t handle a few sexual jokes. Y/N was a big girl and knew 99% of the time, the guys on the team knew their limit. And Harry? Harry, in reality, was a gentleman. Never touched her inappropriately, ever. But the problem was… she kind of wanted him to.

There was no actual clause against staff members and players being together or hooking up. Nope, just frowned upon. Maybe a slap on the wrist. However Y/N knew, she knew that the moment anyone caught wind of her potential affections for any team member or acting on it? It would end with everyone thinking she slept with them to get the job.

Y/N worked long and hard. Tireless hours for make sure these men were healthy, fit, and at their best. She wouldn’t sleep with anyone for any job, and she was actually respected by this team which was something a lot of women weren’t in this field. She could not and would not throw it away for a good dicking.

Fuck, did she want to sometimes.

—-

Harry had these hands. The perfect hands, in her opinion. Big, strong with thinner fingers. Long fingers. A good sized palm, not overly veiny, just perfection in male hand scales. Luckily (or unluckily, whatever way you’d put it) she got to handle them often.

“S’sore today, doc.” He winced, sitting on the table in front of her. Harry’s wrist throbbed. It was rainy, and it was usually a wreck when it was the perfect condition. The ache was annoying, and he knew she had a solution.

Her lips pouted softly as she gently took the hand in place, thumbing over the part of the wrist where rhe injury had occurred. She had learned a while ago where to press, how to rub and get it to lessen before she wrapped it up. “Yeah… old injuries tend to never let you forget.” She sighed, pushing her glasses up into her hair.

Harry never could get over how fucking gorgeous Y/N was. From her nose to her lips, the pretty sparkle in her eye, the curve of her hip… he was obsessed. Not to mention the fact that she was so gentle with him. So kind and sweet, though he knew he got on her nerves with his teasing sometime. She could handle it and he always tried to watch to make sure he wasn’t going too far, but he couldn’t help it.

He was a silly boy with a bit fat crush.

Y/N didn’t bite for any of them. Everyone had attempted when she first came on, testing the waters. Her pretty face was welcome to all the blokes in the team, and there was something incredibly attractive about a woman who could heal. Nonetheless, she never gave in to anything.

In Harry’s case, he knew it was different. He could see her smile at some jokes, see her get the bumps on her skin when he brushed her a certain way. But she avoided the eye contact. Avoided the touches. And it drove him mad.

Of course she wouldn’t know he had actual feelings for him because he was a giant coward most of the time. He hid his affection in the dirty jokes and the teasing squeezes of her waist and teasing. He was a thick skinned man but a full rejection form her would hurt.

Her soft fingers gently massaged over the wrist, making him groan. His head tilted back and he let it out, hissing slightly when she pressed too hard. “Oooh, don’t worry sweetheart. Y’know I like it to hurt a little.” His wide smirk made her roll her eyes huffing under her breath.

Y/N was not having a great day. She had been harassed by an Ex all fucking night over her new job. Making all the damn assumptions that she was getting ‘trained by the team’ in a much more vulgar way, and she had cried half the night. To say she wasn’t in the mood was an understatement, but she was trying.

Harry was not what she needed today, because it made her feel worse. Her blatant attraction to him made her feel guilty. She should be professional and leave it with. The way she had squeeze her legs tighter while he groaned didn’t help her case. The ugly words of how they’ only kept her around for a potential fuck’ was ringing in her head.

Harry though, he was a little oblivious. Her hands were so talented, and he didn’t watch her face for once as she hit a good spot again and he let out another remark.

“Jesus, that’s good. Do those magic hands work everywhere?”

That was the straw that broke her. It wasn’t his fault necessarily, he was just playing. But her eyes watered, hand yanking away as she turned from him, walking over to the bench. Trying to compose herself was hard as the tears burned so hard in her eyes, hands shaking slightly.

Harry startled, not used to that. She never flinched away like that, never ignored his remark and walked away. Usually told him to fuck off, rolled her eyes, something. But the energy in the room immediately shifted and he was uncomfortable. What had happened?

Cautiously, he cleared his throat and stood up from the bench, licking over his dry lips as he spoke again. “Uh… Y/N?”

“S’all I’m good for, right?” She muttered under her breath. Frantically wiping under her eyes she tried to focus on the paper in front of her but she could feel Harry approaching.

He furrowed his brow, not sure if he heard correctly. “Wha-“

Y/N whipped around fast, eyes teary and wet. “I said, that’s all I’m good for right? Only good for my hands and sex and all that pleasure you can get from me?” She hissed. “Only good for a romp in the sheets and a pretty face to heal your wounds and put on band aids. Only good to make you get off and feel good and then what? I’m left here with nothing.”

The tears left her, her hands shaking as she grabbed her bag. Harry felt his stomach drop. Never, ever had he wanted to make her feel like that. Her crying? That wasn’t something he ever wanted to see again. He felt like he had taken a ball to the gut, hard. Those eyes he adored being full of pain, full of tears was his own personal hell.

“Y/N… wait, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ he tried to follow her to the door, stopping abruptly when she lifted a hand up to him. Her stomping had made him nervous. Now she was leaving without talking to him and he felt like a complete dick. It was their normal teasing, but he had crossed a line.

“Don’t. Just…. Just leave me alone. I’m going home.”

—-

As much as Harry had wanted to chase after her, he had already made her cry once. He wasn’t risking it again.

The icky, gross feeling in his stomach followed him all day. He was gutted. Not only has he apparently crossed a line with someone he respected, he had a fucking crush on her. The man was convinced no other feeling was worse than a crush being angry at him. Even if it sounded juvenile to place it like that.

Harry liked Y/N. He never ever wanted to make her upset in any capacity, let alone feeling like a sex object or violated. He prided himself on respecting women. And he had fucking failed. He needed to make it right, and fast.

-

He had found her address. In her employee file, and he knew that was bad but he needed to check on her. Regardless of what happened beforehand, she was upset by him enough to leave and go home and he wanted to make sure she was genuinely okay.

It was an overstep and Harry knew it. He had to try, though.

He arrived at her door step with a box of cupcakes and some flowers. Gently kicking the floor, he heard the door open and his heart broke a little more.

Y/N standing in front of him with swollen eyes. She had been crying, seemingly a lot. And she looked upset still. Though he expected her to close the door in his face and tell him to fuck off. But she didn’t.

Instead, she broke into tears again, throwing herself into his chest. Her arms wrapping around his waist, he nearly tumbled over but righted himself as he startled. Quickly he found himself recovering, wrapping his free arm around her and holding her. He was able to maneuver slightly and drop the cupcakes on her entry table, flowers as well before having his arms free.

“Hey…. Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He whispered softly, gently placing a hand on her back. Rubbing it up and down, letting her cry into his tee shirt. It was worrying. Whatever happened was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to let that take away from the fact he had added and made it worse.

“I’m sorry.” Her muffled response was sobbed into his shirt. “I’m sorry for yelling… and saying you thought those things, you were playing and I…” she pulled back worth tear streaked cheeks and Harry’s look of pure concern making her lip wobble. “You didn’t do it. It was… he kept sayin’ that all the team wants is in my pants, and you make me feel guilty because you’re so…. Beautiful, and I never slept with anyone to get this job! Never. And then he wouldn’t leave me alone-“ she hiccuped, looking up at Harry as he caressed the back of her head.

“Who, lovely? Who wouldn’t leave you alone?” He asked with a calm tone. Of course he wasn’t. Someone was harassing her. And Harry would fucking take care of it. It boiled his blood to think of someone making her feel less than.

“My ex.” She sniffled again, slowly calming. Harry had that quality, she thinks. “He-He broke up with me for taking the job. Said… said that I was going to be a personal whore for all of you. And not do my job.” She took a shuddery breath. It was embarrassing admitting this to him, but he had been on the receiving end for a meltdown that wasn’t his to fix.

“Well, can I tell you something?” He brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the sticky tears from her cheeks. “You arent. You’re no one’s whore. You’re a respected, talented and intelligent member of our staff. You so happen to be incredibly beautiful, which obviously makes people find you more bewitching… but I know that we all look at you as a professional talent. They may have tried their luck at the beginning but you laid down the law quickly and they all understood.” He whispered.

“Me? I was trying my luck, because you’re incredible. And I think you’re lovely. But that isn’t a conversation for now. Let’s make some tea, hm? Relax. I brought you some cupcakes. I need to properly apologize for being inappropriate to you. Regardless if it was a joke…”

—

He sat next to her on her couch. The poor girl was better now, washing her face and a mug of tea in hand while Harry had helped himself to a vase and put the flowers inside. Carnations. He thought they were pretty, didn’t know the name until Y/N had fawned over them.

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you.” She said softly, her big sweatshirt swallowing her up. Before Harry could interrupt, she put a finger up. “I know that you were just playing, Harry. I let you flirt with me like that. And I enjoy it.” She could feel herself get warm in the face. “If you’ve noticed, I let you get away with it. I enjoy it. And you didn’t do anything out of line. I was sensitive… I was still raw and I hadn’t had much sleep because he had blown up my phone and regardless he was telling me things he said in person over and over again. So…” Y/N shifted in her seat and used her sweater paws to bring the drink to her lips. “When you came in… I felt guilty for finding you attractive. For liking what you said to me.”

Harry sat for a moment, quiet. So she had liked it…. And felt guilty. Now knowing the context? It made sense. For the life of him he was trying not to hold in to the fact that she enjoyed it, but he couldn’t. It made him excited.

“Okay. That makes sense. Usually.. I do a better job at reading your physical cues. Sometimes I can see something isn’t the right thing to say because you’re tense already. But I was in my own world cause you were making the pain go away and I felt good. It isn’t an excuse, though.” He gently grabbed her hand once she set down her warm tee, thumbing over the knuckles.

“I felt like such a dick. I still do. You know that? And it isn’t because I’m attracted to you. But it’s because I didn’t think about the position I’m putting you in by flirting.” He moved a little closer. “I would never try and jeopardize your job. I’ve been blinded by my own feelings for a while and I was trying to feel it out but I didn’t think to think it was because someone else or a group of people would look down at you for it.” He frowned.

It was so unfair. They wouldn’t care if he slept with her. But they’d ridicule her for sleeping with him.

“I just want to let you know now as well… I wasn’t trying to come on to you to have a hookup.” He hummed. “The feelings I’ve got are genuine. Alright? They aren’t just too get into your pants. And I never want you to feel as though that’s your only purpose. Ever. You have so much worth, and while I’m positive you don’t need me to tell you that, I want tok anyways.”

He was unreal. She really thinks so. How did a man just… be like him. He was a fan favorite and had charm but behind the scenes he was even better than anything they said.

“Yeah. I think I was afraid. Because… I’m the same, you know?” She shyly admitted. “You’re charming and I didn’t want to admit I let your charm get to me, but it has. It has very much. And I like you. I don’t know what to do about it, but I think it’s only fair I admit it myself as well when you’ve put yourself out on the line.”

Harry’s grin grew, dimples pocketing in his cheeks. She liked him back. His heart was ringing in his ears, the shy little look into her eyes making him want to explode. Fucking adorable girl making him feel such intense emotions…. It was incredible.

Thank god. He thought he was going insane.

“We don’t have to do anything in the sense of our job right now. But since we both know… would you want to explore it? I would say privately. Just get to know each other better. Talk. Hang out. Cook food together… maybe kiss.” He smirked slightly at the end, making her let out a laugh. Her laugh soothed his Damn soul.

“I think I’d like that.”

——

Part II maybe? Who knows

[therealvinelle]

What do you think of Jacob?

Jacob is, like almost every other character in the series (the exception being Mike Newton. I have no hot takes on Mike Newton), seen from the wrong angle. I could go into a whole thing about how Bella is an unreliable narrator, but this isn’t the post for that.

So, Jacob is supposed to be the easy-go-lucky, kind-hearted, and so very warm sun who brightens Bella’s life. And he is, at first. In Twilight and the first half of New Moon he is a sweetheart. He’s of course mortified by his father being so superstitious that he actually believes there’s a family of vampires attending high school in Forks, but otherwise life is good. Billy raised him well.

Then he turns into a giant wolf. He must now take up this mantle to protect the tribe he never even knew about, he’s a warrior whether he likes it or not. His life is not his own anymore, or at least it’s not the one he wanted. Anyone would be brought out of sorts by that.

More, he’s not allowed to talk to Bella anymore, and it turns out the Cullens were in fact demons this whole time. And Bella knew.

Take a moment to wonder what Bella’s entanglement with Edward is going to look like to anyone who knows what he is.

A beautiful young woman is seduced by a vampire. She believes they’re in love, and that blood-sucking demons are friendly people who care about her wellbeing. Billy tries to warn her, she tells him “I know exactly what I’m doing!” in a way that makes it very clear she has no idea what she’s doing. It would look like she was being groomed to become Dracula’s bride.

Even if they didn’t spell it out for Jacob, he had all the pieces he needed to jump to the worst, albeit reasonable, conclusions.

This is how we get the new and improved Jacob, who is angry, scared, and, when the Cullens come back, desperate to keep Bella away from them. (I won’t get into that here because I received another ask requesting that specifically.)

Now, I do think Jacob is very sympathetic. All the shapeshifters are, for obvious reasons, none of them deserved any of this.

However, I don’t think he’s a good person.

Take the infamous kiss.

Sexual assault is bad by itself, but what I find especially damning is his attitude afterwards. He’s not even remotely repentant. He laughs, he all but high-fives her dad, and he never does give Bella a proper apology. I don’t think he ever fully agreed to that qualifying as a sexual assault, as most assaulters won’t.

Later he blackmails Bella into kissing him by threatening to kill himself if she doesn’t. 

He is pressed into a corner, yes, and he is a minor in an awful situation as throughout Eclipse his childhood friend, his dad’s best friend’s only daughter, complains that he isn’t more supportive of her choice to become a bloodsucking demon. However, that doesn’t justify this level of disregard for Bella’s feelings. It seems to me that it became less about Bella as a person, and more about getting the girl.

His feelings for Bella started out as a crush, but by the time we get to Eclipse it’s not just about Bella anymore.

I find this bit from Breaking Dawn especially telling:

“If you think that imprinting could ever make sense of this insanity . . .” I struggled for words. “Do you really think that just because I might someday imprint on some stranger it would make this right?” I jabbed a finger toward her swollen body. “Tell me what the point was then, Bella! What was the point of me loving you? What was the point of you loving him? When you die”—the words were a snarl—“how is that ever right again? What’s the point to all the pain? Mine, yours, his! You’ll kill him, too, not that I care about that.” She flinched, but I kept going. “So what was the point of your twisted love story, in the end? If there is any sense, please show me, Bella, because I don’t see it.” Breaking Dawn, page 122

Bella is dying, and Jacob’s thought isn’t “Don’t you have things to live for?”, but “What was the point of me and Edward fighting over the girl if the girl is just gonna die anyway?”

It reveals a disregard for her as a person.

It’s not just Bella: when Leah joins his pack in Breaking Dawn, he tries to kick her out simply because it’s Leah and she sucks. He’s an ass to her, and it’s unwarranted. She has to bare her soul for him to realize she’s a person. It’s a startling contrast to how he acts around Bella, his dad, or Charlie.

I think Jake is a dick who shows pretty clear abusive tendencies, not at all the healthy sunshine he’s supposed to be. His frequent use of aggression and guilt-tripping to get Bella to do what he wants comes to mind. He only looks good because his competition is Edward, and I’m not going to give a guy props for being a better dating prospect than vampire Patrick Bateman.

Then there’s the truly damning moment, which is when he decides to kill Renesmée.

The killing of a child is a monstrous act on its own, but he fact that it’s Bella’s child makes it even worse. It’s the ultimate proof he doesn’t actually love her. She died to protect this child, and he’ll kill it.

Jacob is a very sympathetic character who was put through things no one should have to live at a very young age, I do feel bad for him. He’s put in an extreme situation. But he tried to kill a child, and there’s just no coming back from that for me.

More, I think that the ugly things we see in post-phasing Jacob are perfectly reconcilable with the sweet-faced youth he was. People are complicated, we are one thing in one setting and another in a different setting. For a person who turns out to have abusive tendencies to be a perfectly lovely person on the surface is not exactly unheard of.

Jacob is a great guy up until the going gets tough. And when it does, his response is not good.

TL;DR: It was never Team Edward or Team Jacob, they’re both horrible.

EDIT because I forgot one of Jacob’s greatest hits that should absolutely be in this meta: When the Cullens want to leave Forks, move away (as the shapeshifters and Jacob’s father especially always wanted), Jacob realizes Renesmée will leave. Can’t have that. So he sends Charlie rushing to see his daughter. His newborn vampire daughter. It’s a complete miracle, and in no way thanks to Jacob, that Bella didn’t kill her own father.

Jacob has no excuse for that. None.

[sylvie-writes]

Ugly Christmas Sweaters

pairing: steve rogers x reader. avengers x reader (platonic) 

request: Could you imagine the avengers having an ugly Christmas sweater contest? Because holy cow I need that in my life.

warnings: a few curse words and that’s about it.

word count: 1459

author’s note: pardon any mistakes! I’m also trying to complete my Christmas/winter requests first since December has already started. 

PART OF MY CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION (check the tag for the masterlist)

(gif below is not mine, nor do i take credit for it

The Morning Of December 24th

“Natasha, for the love of all that is good, why are we out at 10 am shopping? On Christmas Eve might I add!”

Tiny snowflakes danced across the sky, some making home in your hair and on the planes of your face. Cold wind gushed towards you, making your skin feel as delicate and fragile as porcelain. Having lived in New York for a few years, one would have assumed that you knew how to handle the harsh weather by now, but apparently not. Even though you were wrapped in a very warming trench coat, your neck encased in a fur collar, you wrapped yourself into Natasha’s side for even more warmth. 

The woman squeezed your arm that was wrapped around her own and kept walking all while ignoring your pleas to stop at the coffee house that looked oh-so inviting.

“Oh hush. You act like you are going to turn into Jack Frost!” 

She chided you for a minute more and then pulled your body into a clothing store that seemed a bit too up-class for your liking. 

“As for your second question, this is the answer. Tony is hosting an ugly Christmas sweater party tonight!”

Natasha unlatched from your arm and went into the center of the store. A sea of red and green blinded you and your friend was now practically swimming through the hundreds of racks all filled with ugly Christmas sweaters. 

“Seriously, Nat! I could have just ordered one on Amazon or something.”

You frowned and decided to jump into the unknown and search for your friend who was seemingly lost at the moment. Standing on tippy toes, you tried to peer over and find her. It was all in vain until you saw a head of red hair excitedly pop up, almost like a groundhog exiting from its home. Natasha smiled widely at you with two ugly Christmas sweaters in hand. As you walked closer to her, you found that the sweaters in question weren’t actually separated yet they were actually one large conjoined sweater, presumably for two people. 

“No,” before she could even speak, you had cut her off. 

“C’mon (y/n)! Even you were thinking about it. I didn't even have to say anything to influence you.” 

You shook your head and attempted to walk away when she grabbed your hand. 

“Call him.”

Natasha stared into your eyes and you did the same, almost squinting back at her now. 

With the slowest movements of your lips, you replied, “N-O, Natasha!” 

Just as you thought this argument had been put to rest, Natasha sneakily snatched your cell phone from your back pocket and immediately FaceTimed your boyfriend, Steve.

“WHAT?!” At this point you were grabbing for the phone and waiting for Steve to ultimately pick up at any given moment.

“HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW MY PASSWORD?” Natasha kept waving around your phone in the air as it was nothing, some bystanders even shamelessly watching at this point. 

“I’m a spy, sweetheart. It’s simple. Also, your first mistake was to make your password your birthday.”

She pursed her lips and looked at you with a knowing look and you grumbled. Suddenly, the sound of the call being picked sounded and your blood froze. If it wasn’t already frozen from the frigid weather that is.

“Hey dol—Nat?”

“Hiya Cap! Your girlfriend is being a pain in my ass and we need you to settle this argument.”

You piped up and scurried over to get in the view of the camera.

“There is no argument! It’s a stupid sweater that’s all.”

Natasha looked at you once more and you did the same, this time snatching the phone from her. 

“Well I guess you two don’t need me then?”

You could see Steve was visibly confused and clearly in the middle of something as Bucky and Sam were in the background attempting to hang some garland. 

As you were about to tell Steve goodbye, you heard him suddenly chuckle. Confused, your eyes scanned the screen and that is where you spotted Natasha in the background of your own camera feed, jumping up and down while pointing to the sweater. 

“Honey, why is Nat jumping around behind you. Did she have some caffeine or something? I’ve never seen her this hyper before.”

You started laughing as Steve didn’t know Natasha exactly like you did. She was your best friend and the two of you got on each other’s nerves, but never seriously of course. Natasha was a different person with you and quite frankly it was a lot more fun than her usual persona with the team. 

“No Stevie, she stole my phone to try and get you to wear this sweater with me, but I know there’s no way you’d ever wear it.” Towards the end of your statement you were winking, and very noticeably at this point, hoping he would play along. 

But alas, he didn’t catch on.

“Huh? You know me, angel. I’ll do anything for you!”

He was so sweet and innocent that it was hard to stay mad at him. At this point, Nat had stopped jumping and was now at your side, a proud smirk on her face. On the screen, Bucky had joined and Sam partially paid some attention to the conversation as he was now working with Wanda and her powers on the garland. 

“Oh hey, Tasha! You gotta get us one of those, babe! Can’t let Rogers and (y/l/n) beat us this year, ya know?”

Natasha nodded vigorously and walked away to go and find said sweater. You just watched the two boys on the phone playfully nudge each other and drop a few “insults.” 

“I’m going to leave you two to whatever that is. Good luck Sam, you too Wanda!”

The young woman looked towards the camera and you could hear her irritated grumble all the way from across the room. 

“Should’ve gone with you guys!”

—

The Night of December 24th

You and Steve are standing shoulder to shoulder. Literally. 

Minus the white camisole you are wearing beneath this thing, all you feel is Steve’s warm body and skin touching yours. 

The two of you, after some time, finally managed to get the damn thing on. 

“(y/n)! Step to the side and then let me slip my arm through. 

Growing you did as he asked, when you immediately jumped back at Steve crushing your foot. The simple action throwing you both back. 

“Steve, you were stepping on me!”

and then your favorite part of the whole fiasco, “Steven Rogers get your arm off of my waist.” 

You turned and gave the man a side eye to which he shrugged with his own wide eyes. “What! I’m not doing anything and even if I was—”

Steve noticed your look, one that you don’t mess around with. “Care to finish that sentence, Cap?”

He made a motion as if he was zipping his lips and the two of you found it difficult to walk out of the door. 

At the party, you eyed the room for the team. They were a mere few feet away, but you and Steve were already struggling to walk as it is. 

Tony and Pepper were wearing some lighted tinsel sweaters while Bucky and Nat wore a conjoined reindeer sweater. Sam was sporting a literal Christmas tree sweater while Wanda wore a fruit cake themed ugly Christmas sweater. 

Soon Bruce and Thor joined you all. Bruce had an avengers themed ugly sweater on, making you giggle a bit while Thor was just wearing a casual sweater. 

“What is this nonsense that you are all wearing?”

Thor motioned to everyone’s different and most of all, ugly, sweaters, then prompting Bruce to explain the whole thing to him.

Eventually the festivities came to an end and you and Steve by now, had become experts at wearing this giant nap sack of a sweater. 

Rhodey, who decided not to participate, instead became the judge of the contest. By now, everyone was tired and blissed out from the drinks and such. There was silence as you all sat around on the couch and chairs, but it was comfortable and enjoyable, not deafening. The team was your family and there was no other way you’d have it. 

Sleepy, you leaned onto Steve who was still sitting beside you of course, because it’s not like he can run off. 

He smiled when you finally gave in and placed a kiss on your head. The whole team saw you and Steve all snuggled up and napping away. From that, it was decided that you both had won the ugly sweater competition. Not because of your sweaters, but because of your PDA. 

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline​ @siriuslyslyslytherin 

[jaalismyhusband]

Roommates (part 1)

Title: Roommates

Pairings: Bucky x f!reader

Prompts: I combined “but it’s the way you smile that does it for me” with “but it’s always your eyes that pull me under” from the song Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex.

Warnings: angst

Wordcount: 1.2k

Masterlist

Part 1

Can there be a friendship between a man and a woman, without one falling for another? The question hasn’t failed to leave her mind lately. She tried not to fall for him. But well, how couldn’t she?

Bucky was everything she ever wanted in a guy. Sure, he looked great - a bit of an understatement, to be honest. Long dark hair framing his chiselled face, adorned with a stubble. Piercing blue eyes that held the dark secrets of his fragile soul. Just thinking about his heavenly sculpted body made her cheeks flush with red. But it was the way he smiled that pulled her under. She loved to make him laugh and see his face brighten. To wipe that frown off of his beautiful face. How could she not after all that he has been through? Sometimes she just wanted to hold him and let him know that he can finally be himself. She wanted him to bloom.

But he didn’t feel the same about her. Tears started rolling down her cheeks as a realization came to her. Pain in her chest exceeding limits of her frail heart, making her silently cry in her bedroom once again. She was desperate at this point. Deciding to bury her feelings deep within her soul, she put on her big girl pants and was determined to forget. Just for one night.

“Hey, Y/N, the dinner is ready.”

Startled by Bucky’s sudden invasion of her room, she quickly dried her tears.

“Are you ok, doll?” A bitter smile crawled on her face and she nodded her head as an answer. Bucky often called her a variety of pet names. Doll, doll face, kitten, baby girl, sweetheart and many more. They never failed to make her heart skip a beat. But as of late, she has grown to resent them. She hated how they made her feel. How they made her fall in love with Bucky more each time he called her by those stupid pet names. She was upset with herself, feeling like some untouched teenage girl again.

“Well then, come with me. The dinner’s getting cold.”

Bucky hurried out of the room. He couldn’t stand seeing her like this. Y/N had never cried in front of him before. She looked almost broken, not like her strong, stable every day self. Oh no, was she putting up a mask around him? He hated to think that she wasn’t comfortable sharing what’s on her mind with him. He longed to take her in his arms and hold her, make her feel safe.

And yet, he couldn’t. She obviously didn’t feel the same about him. And Bucky didn’t blame her. He was too shy to make a move. Scared of what her answer may be. Afraid to ruin the great friendship that has been developing between them. Sometimes he could swear she felt it too. The feather-like touches, longing stares, bones crushing hugs she’d give him, after he’s been away for missions. He felt sparks of hope flutter in his chest every time and still, it wasn’t enough of a sign for him to act on his feelings. It didn’t matter anyway. Bucky was sure she wasn’t interested in dating a broken man like himself. As much as he and his therapist worked on his selflove, deep down he knew he would never be worthy of the cheerful girl, that brought so much light to his darkness.

There was only one person allowed to get a peak of his true self. His best friend Steve. No other Avenger, nor his therapist were able to make him drop his guard. But not Y/N. She saw right through his tough act and built up walls. She wasn’t afraid of him and didn’t treat him like an unstable volcano in a human form.

“How is it, that you’re not scared of me?” Bucky asked. Puzzled expression on his face made him look like a lost puppy. Y/N giggled at him.

“How could I be scared? In my eyes, you’re just a grumpy giant who needs some love.” She proclaimed, giving him a warm smile. Bucky was dumbstruck. No one has ever considered that he had feelings too. She made him feel human. Almost normal.

At that moment he knew, he was in love.

Bucky smiled at that memory. He joined the rest of the team for dinner, anxiously waiting for Y/N to arrive. Finally, she made her way to the kitchen, but instead of sitting down next to him, she just stopped to say she wouldn’t be joining them and left. Bucky flinched a bit as she shut the front door. Others may have not noticed, but he didn’t miss her poorly hidden bloodshot eyes and overall sadness of her slumped shoulders.

Sudden flow of courage filled his body. Decision to ask her out surprised him but simultaneously made him burn with anticipation. He decided to ignore the voices in his head telling him how he’s not good enough. He wanted her to be content and safe. He was willing to do whatever it takes, to ensure her happiness. She cared so much for everyone around her, now it was time for Bucky to show her, that someone cared back.

Y/N felt horrible for storming out like that. She saw Bucky’s worried expression over the kitchen table. But how could she talk to him, if he’s the reason behind her pain?

With the winter coming, the days were getting shorter. Her legs were on auto-mode, as she let herself be carried away wherever they would take her. November air was freezing her little body as she clung to her leather jacket. Deciding to warm herself up and keeping that promise of forgetting from earlier, she made her way to a nearby bar.

Ordering a drink, she instantly downed it. Bittersweet liquor burned her throat but soon she felt the warmth spreading through her chest. Motioning to bartender, she ordered another glass. Never been keen on the whole drinking experience, Y/N found herself tipsy after just a few sips.

Y/N had never understood why people fancied getting drunk. She didn’t like the taste, nor smell of most alcoholic beverages and she was afraid of all the possibilities of making a fool of herself once drunk. But the truth was, she felt like a fool when she was sober, so what else could she do. Alcohol provided her much needed lethargy. She realized she’s not going to find the answers for her questions at the bottom of the bottle, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Rough day?” Y/N turned her head, to see where the voice was coming from. On the barstool next to her sat a guy, offering her another drink. If she were sober, she wouldn’t have accepted the glass with brown liquid in it. She didn’t know the guy, let alone trust him with her drinks. But again, she was drunk. Grabbing the glass from the stranger, she gulped it down her throat and gave him a smile in return.

“I’m Jason.” The man extended his arm in a greeting gesture. Accepting his handshake, she spoke softly.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Jason.” Seems like the alcohol held the answers after all.

Part 2

[sleeplesscenarios]

Big Eyes and Little Glasses random headcanons

aka Lang Qiao and Xiao Haiyang (from Mo Du) because they need more appreciation and content!! some very random stuff that popped into my mind while plotting, enjoy! (@9kghn​ i’m tagging you here too <3)

Look at their nicknames, they’re opposites of each other just like their personalities!

According to donghua team, Lang Qiao is 165 cm which is normal girl size and Xiao Haiyang is 192 cm which is fucking giant size. Also Lang Qiao is 2 years older.

So now Xiao Haiyang keeps calling her “Xiao-Qiao-jie" which is heckin’ cute and canonly makes Lang Qiao’s heart skip a beat and it’s especially cute because it has the “you’re older than me but you’re smol tho” meaning instead of the previous “you’re younger than me but i call u jie bc u work here longer”.

On that note, Xiao Haiyang is an awkward giant which means his posture is probably terrible and he’s always slouching. Imagine Lang Qiao just rambling about something and he’s blinking down at her because “*oh shit I have no idea what she said I was distracted by the smol & cute even tho she could kick my ass haha-* Yes, I was listening!”

Xiao Haiyang is terribly touch starved and doesn’t understand social cues and rituals which are very important to Lang Qiao, however, she’s luckily pretty flexible.

It could result in small fights but nothing an apology (instead of a 5 pages self-examination not even touching the important subject) can’t solve.

More on the touch starved point: I mean he’s just awkward and doesn’t really have friends so I imagine he’d probably freak out if someone let alone his crush touched him in any way.

Exhausted Lang Qiao resting her head on his shoulder and Xiao Haiyang doesn’t dare so much as breathe in fear of disturbing her.

Lang Qiao purposely flustering him by leaning a bit too close to him or just poking him.

Xiao Haiyang accidentally keeps flustering Lang Qiao because after she realizes her own feelings, even standing close to him can fluster her and she’s lowkey losing her mind about it.

Xiao Haiyang firm member of the “hugs are better than kisses” squad because he can occasionally get some hugs without having to admit his humongous crush.

Confessions can go two ways, no in-between:

1. Lang Qiao notices his very obvious crush, corners him and bluntly asks him about it (imagine normal sized girl kabedoning giant sized boy)

2. Xiao Haiyang rediscovers his courage and prepares a speech but his eidetic memory fails him and ends up being a stuttering mess then gets annoyed and just starts complaining how it’s unfair that she keeps doing this to his heart.

FIRST DATE WHILE WALKING AROUND GETTING STREET FOOD!!  

After being in a relationship, Xiao Haiyang always buying little snacks for his girlfriend. He can’t get used to how “girlfriend” sounds. He also can’t get used to how “boyfriend” sounds from Lang Qiao’s mouth.

Xiao Haiyang constantly experiencing mini-heart attacks because Lang Qiao is too freaking cute and also pretty and hot and everything perfect.

Insecure Haiyang is a petty bitch who gives the silent treatment then starts yelling smh. Lang Qiao is having none of it and yells back. Xiao Haiyang ends up sitting on Luo Wenzhou’s couch asking Fei Du for help because he believes with all of his heart that every word of President Fei is the absolute truth. Fei Du teaches him the ‘immediately apologize then say I love you for good measure’ tactic – LWZ gets annoyed. It’s, however, successful.

Lang Qiao is ready to fight off everyone who would flirt with Haiyang but unfortunately, there isn’t really a competition so that one time, when they’re questioning witnesses outside and this girl takes a liking to Xiao Haiyang she’s ready to square up because finally she can establish dominance over her man. Poor girl.

Xiao Haiyang giving small presents for no special reason just because he remembered Lang Qiao said she wanted or liked them or just saw something that reminded him of her.

Cuddles are heaven because as stated above, Xiao Haiyang loves them and Lang Qiao would be more than happy to tackle her tall ass boyfriend any chance she gets.

On that note, BACKHUG BACKHUG BACKHUG!!

Also, piggy back rides because she’s tired from working and obviously can’t go from the parking lot to her door on her own feet, not if she has a boyfriend ready at the princess’ command. “Why are your legs shaking, I’m not that heavy.” “Well, you kind of are-” “Not another word or we’re through :)” “Yes, ma’am!”

Xiao Haiyang promptly changes his opinion about “hugs are better than kisses” after their first kiss which is either him awkwardly knocking their lips together or Lang Qiao grabbing his collar and pulling him down for a proper one (or both).

Lang Qiao going in to the office and casually pecking Haiyang on his lips, cheeks, wherever she can reach that morning. The whole office just stares. Xiao Haiyang is beet red. There are clapping and whistles. “Oh, shit I forgot we haven’t told them yet.”

“Imperial Father, may I ask for permission to court the Eldest Princess.”

Xiao Haiyang has all of these petnames in his head from the numerous sleepless nights he spent pining. Never gets to use any of them because Lang Qiao just calls him a little baby sarcastically and then he calls her a midget and they just know that there’s not gonna be any of that “love” and “darling” and “sweetheart” shit. (At least for now.)

Office romance is all fun and games until they move in together and realize that it was pointless, they spend 90% of their time in the bureau anyways.

On day offs they make attempt to cook something and Xiao Haiyang has a bunch of recipes in his head because he knows Lang Qiao loves trying new food but somehow, things go a bit different when he actually tries to cook. Kitchen is a mess, something is on fire, they spend the time they wait for take-out cleaning up.

There’s one time when Lang Qiao realizes she’s not wearing make-up because she just woke up and she can’t let Haiyang see her like that to which Xiao Haiyang just says, “You do know that I literally fell in love with you while you were running around the office with disheveled hair and bags under your eyes after pulling all-nighters, right?” “You sure know how to flatter a woman, huh?” XHY: *is this sarcasm or not, did I say smth wrong again???*

“Jie, I bought us a cat.” “Please tell me you’re kidding.” “No, Captain said the key to a prosperous relationship is a cat and you love cats and I was passing by a shelter so...”

Lang Qiao is constantly asking herself why she’s dating this walking disaster then she catches a glimpse of the light in Xiao Haiyang’s eyes when he just stares at her and sighs. Who could not fall in love with someone who looks at them with so much affection?

[lapzoli]

the promises of the future

very much based on this piece from @edorazzi‘s mentor au! takes place directly after season 3! just wondering how Bridgette and Marinette’s talk would go!

“Here, my dear, drink this.”

Marinette blinks, looking up at the young woman as she places a cup of tea in front of her. The scent of it is warm and familiar, and she feels the corners of her eyes sting from tears, not an uncommon feeling. 

The woman gives her a sympathetic smile as she takes the seat across from her, folding her hands across the table. Soft music plays in the background of the quaint tea shop they are in, and Marinette is all too aware of how empty it is. 

She bites her lip, digging her nails into the skin of her palms as she stares down at the cup of tea, and the woman bums softly. 

“Take your time,” she assures, reaching for her own drink. “I understand it’s a lot to take in.”

“Will…” Marinette swallows, hating how shaky her voice sounds. She’s supposed to be stronger than this, but she’s not ready. She didn’t think she would ever have to be. “Will you say it again? I can’t...I don’t…”

“Of course, sweetheart.” The woman takes a sip of her drink, and then places it back on the table. “You’ve been through a lot, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, haven’t you?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself not to burst into tears. She’s Ladybug; she’s meant to be strong and self-reliant. But she’s also only fifteen. 

The woman hums, watching her for a moment. 

“My name,” she begins, “is Bridgette Cheng. I knew Fu as a Guardian and mentor, just like you did. When I heard what had happened in Paris, I had to come see you immediately. He might have believed you’re strong enough to handle this alone, and perhaps you are, but you don’t have to be, Marinette. Ladybugs aren’t meant to hold so much weight.”

Her head snaps up, and her one working brain cell kicks in.

“How do you know who - why would you think - I’m not…” She sputters, shaking her head furiously. “I mean, that’s a weird comparison but-“

The woman, Bridgette, chuckles lightly. 

“Come now, you can trust me,” she assures, “though I understand your reluctance. I would be wary too, but perhaps there is someone who you trust that can vouch for me. If she is willing to break the rules a little.”

Marinette furrows her eyebrows together in confusion, watching as the woman pulls out a little tin of cookies from her purse. 

“You can come out now, you know. I don’t think it will help her anyway if you follow the rules of someone who’s not even here.” 

The young heroine gasps in a mix of horror and surprise as Tikki floats out into the air, and before she can even attempt to scream and grab the kwami and start rambling excuses for the giant bug-creature, Bridgette holds out her hand and the little god of creation gently lays on top of it. 

“Hello, Tikki,” she says softly, voice full of fondness and a bit of sorrow. “It’s been a while.”

Tikki’s smile matches the woman’s tone, and she nuzzles against her cheek as she’s pulled in closer. 

“Hello again, Bridgette,” she murmurs sweetly, looking back at the baffled teenager. “Marinette, it’s alright. I know this is against the rules and I normally wouldn’t encourage this, but under these circumstances, I think it’s okay. You can trust her. She’s my - She was the Ladybug before you.” 

Marinette gawks, looking between the two of them for a good minute, before she shakily reaches out to her cup of tea and brings the now lukewarm drink to her lips. 

“Oh. Okay,” she manages to say. “But how did you-“

“I knew what to look for,” interrupts Bridgette kindly. “I promise you no one else would have realized your identity. Also, I’m a little less affected by the kwamis’ magic thanks to my time as Ladybug.” 

“Right.” Marinette stares down at her cup. “So. You’re here.”

“I am.” Bridgette opens the tin and offers a cookie to their kwami, who had settled on the table comfortably between them. “Fu was your mentor, and I’m sure he did his best in nudging you in the right direction. Or rather, what he believed to be the right direction.” She hums. “He is a good man at heart, Marinette, don’t get me wrong, but he has his flaws. And he certainly saw something in you, and I like to say I see it too. One bug to another.”

Tikki makes a little noise of protest, and Bridgette gently pokes her forehead in response. 

“You met him far before my partner and I did when we were your age. I must admit, I’m a little jealous you got such helpful transformations and upgrades when we weren’t so fortunate. But Fu was learning, just like we all were.” She glances down at the kwami. “But a yoyo, really, Tikki? I would have killed for that.” 

Tikki fixes her with a flat stare as she goes, “More like killed with it. You weren’t exactly the most clear-headed person back then, you know!”

“So I would have bopped Chat’s head a little more often, oh well!” Bridgette remarks. She huffs as if she’s annoyed but by the amused look in her eyes, Marinette can tell it’s all just a jest. “This is overwhelming, I’m sure, so allow me to be clear with you. I want to be here for you in a way Fu couldn’t. He had to keep his secrets, knowing Hawkmoth would be after him and the miraculous. Because of that, he also had to keep his distance. You and me, we don’t have to be like that. I know what you’re going through a little better than Fu does, in regards to being Ladybug. It’s a lot of responsibility for a teenager. At your age, you should be worrying about homework and crushes, not the state of the world. Let me be your shoulder to lean on, Marinette, someone to ask questions when Tikki wants to keep her mouth shut, for good or bad, or when you just need someone to talk to in general. I’ll be here for you, I swear.”

It’s that, that simple line that promises so much, that finally makes Marinette break, and her shoulders shake as she bursts into tears, covering her face with her hands. 

Bridgette lets her cry, knowing this has been a long time coming, perhaps since the very first day, and takes a sip of her tea, glancing down at the kwami on the table as she does. 

Tikki stares back, and they have a silent conversation, much like they did years ago, and Bridgette lets herself wonder if she is doing the right thing or if she is putting them all at risk even more. 

.

“Where are we?” Marinette asks, now that she’s settled down a bit, finally taking the time to look around in the empty shop. “How long has it been since you’ve been Ladybug? How come I never heard of any recent miraculous activity before? Who did you fight against?”

“Breathe, Marinette,” interrupts Tikki, putting her paws on her charge’s hands. “One thing at a time.”

“It’s fine, Tikki,” assures Bridgette, chuckling. “Well, first, we’re in my mother’s tea shop. I never told her I was Ladybug, but in a way, I think she always knew. Moms can be scary like that sometimes. But this is a safe place, Marinette. It’s no old man’s secret massage parlor, but it’s comfortable.”

She hums. 

“Mm. As for your second question, I want to say ten, fifteen years? Since I became Ladybug, at least. I was around your age, I believe. My goodness, how time goes by, doesn’t it? It’s been a year already for you, and you’ve been through a lot. There should have been more time to prepare you for this, and I’m sorry there wasn’t, sweetheart.”

Marinette nods, trying not to cry again. She needs to be stronger than that. Bursting into tears every five minutes won’t help her.

“As for your last two questions…” Bridgette sighs, glancing down at their kwami. “Well, Fu was always good at covering up what he wanted to keep secret, for the most part. But also, our villain - a man we knew as Papillion - was less of a showman than your Hawkmoth. He preferred striking fear more subtly than direct attacks in the day. My partner and I preferred it that way, keeping the people of Paris oblivious in a way. Anyone who really saw us chalked us down to late night dreams or rumors. People knew of us, but we were never public figures like you and your partner are.” 

Marinette takes a moment to let that information sink in, and one thing sticks out to her.

“You said your villain’s name was Papillion?” She asks, eyes widening. “That’s literally...oh my god, did he have the same miraculous?” Bridgette meets her gaze, and that’s answer enough. “How?”

“Papillion was smart and always refused to admit defeat, even until the end,” says Bridgette, sighing heavily. “He had time to hide his miraculous somewhere Chat Noir and I couldn’t find it, and refused to tell us where he had hid it even after we took him in. We considered it a hollow victory, one we could live with, until last year and Hawkmoth introduced himself to Paris. If we had tried a bit harder..”

“You can’t blame yourself,” says Tikki, flying up to her former bearer’s face. “You said it yourself; he was always smarter than he admitted and hated losing. Even if he aimed for victory, he wasn’t so naive he wouldn’t have a backup plan! Plus, he was a grown man and you were still teenagers! He may have outsmarted you in some ways, but you still beat him in the end!”

“Thank you, Tikki,” says Bridgette softly, stroking the top of her kwami’s head. “I appreciate you saying that.”

“What was it like? Defeating him?” Marinette tries to look as determined as she wants to feel. “Was it hard?”

Bridgette is silent for a moment, considering what to say without revealing too much.

“It was...a whirlwind,” she says finally. “We were filled with relief and joy, of course, but we were also exhausted and…” She thinks of when the smoke cleared and they saw just who was the man behind the mask, of her partner’s sharp inhale. “We were overwhelmed, I suppose, is the best way to say it. Happy we finally finished our mission, but saddened that this meant Chat and I had to say goodbye.”

“Oh.” Marinette deflates, biting her lip. “You...You and your partner…?”

“Oh, no! I meant, say goodbye to us as Ladybug and Chat Noir, since we had to give back our miraculous to Fu,” explains Bridgette, shaking her head frantically. “Chat and I...we already knew our identities by that time. We didn’t always, but things happened, and we were sort of left with no choice after a point. We still...We still talk, in case you’re wondering.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Marinette lifts her teacup to her lips, only to see that it’s empty, and she reaches for one of Bridgette’s cookies instead. “I can’t imagine saying goodbye. I did that once, and I regretted it almost right away.”

Tikki flies up and buries herself in the crook of Marinette’s shoulder, nuzzling her cheek in some sort of comfort. The early days had been rough, that was no secret, to them or any of Paris. Even so, the kwami keeps her eyes on her former bug, watching her with something akin to regret.

“Like I said, it was a whirlwind.” Bridgette’s smile is almost sad as she looks past Marinette’s shoulder, at nothing in particular. “I’ll be honest with you, Marinette. Even if Chat and I hadn’t known our identities yet, I would have taken my earrings then and there to tell him who I was before we lost each other forever. If I didn’t, I think I would always regret it.”

She meets Tikki’s gaze, unnerving.

“We were told how important it was to keep our identities a secret, and that’s true, but it’s not fair to try and carry so many burdens by yourself when there is someone right there who can help you,” she says. “You don’t have to share your identity with anyone, of course, especially since you had Fu, and Tikki, and now hopefully me. But there are only so many things you can share with someone clearly older than you, right?”

Bridgette finally looks at the current heroine, listening intently.

“You are partners for a reason, Marinette. Don’t ever forget that.” She glances at her watch and hums, reaching for her purse. “It’s time for me to go, but I will be here whenever you need me.”

She presses a business card to the table, sliding it close to the teenager, who looks up at her in panic.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t goodbye,” she promises, voice kind. “But you’ve been through a lot the last few days. The last thing we want is to overwhelm you even more. You can reach out to me whenever you need. And whenever you’re ready to talk about everything, whatever that may be for you, I will be here. And if you can’t reach me, you can come to this shop. Tikki can show you the way.”

“...alright,” says Marinette, barely above a whisper as she clutches the card in her hands so tightly it nearly crumples. “I….thank you, Bridgette.”

The bell on the door rings sweetly as the young woman leaves, and Marinette stares at nothing in particular for a moment, her kwami waiting patiently on her shoulder.

“Marinette?” She finally calls, tentatively. “Are you alright?”

It’s a stupid question. It’s always been, always will be.

“No,” answers the heroine, voice shaking. She won’t cry. Not again, not yet. “But I will be.”

Marinette looks down at the card, trying to smooth out the wrinkles she caused. 

This woman - Bridgette - is different from Fu. Both have their secrets and inside jokes with their kwamis, but whereas Fu was evasive and cunning, Bridgette is direct and warm, like an older cousin finding you alone in the guest bedroom at a family party. A stranger, but familiar at the same time. 

“I’ll be alright, I think.”

She’s in good hands, she knows it.

[dimitrescus-bitch]

Sweethearts (Charlotte Flair x Steamboat!Reader)

“Uncle Ricky!” you exclaimed as you ran towards your uncle. He picked you up in his arms and spun you around. “Can I walk out to the ring with you?” 

“I’m sorry kiddo, maybe a later match,” he told you and you pouted. “I think Ric brought his kids. Why don’t you go see them?” 

“Charlie’s here?” you asked excitedly. He nodded and you hopped out of his arms and went searching for the older girl. You were almost seven and she had just turned eleven. You thought that she was one of the coolest people ever, especially since she got to go on the road with her dad. Sometimes you got to travel with your uncle, but it didn’t happen a lot. 

“Are you lost kid?” Ric asked you. He caught you wandering around the backstage, searching for his daughter. Whenever the two of you were around each other, you followed her like a lost puppy. “Do I need to help you find somebody Y/n?” 

“Where’s Charlie, Mr. Flair?” you asked him sweetly. You batted your eyelashes so that he’d take you directly to his daughter instead of checking with your uncle first. It was no secret that the two of you could get up to trouble running around backstage, but you were just cute enough to cover for the both of you. He took your hand and walked you to catering, where Charlotte was sitting with a cookie. “Hi Charlie!” 

“Hi Y/n,” Charlotte greeted you. She made room for you to sit in the chair next to her since you were small enough to fit. Charlotte was like a giant and an adult, but you loved hanging around her. Occasionally Stephanie would watch the two of you backstage if her dad knew that you were there. “My dad said you started school. Do you like it?” 

“It’s great.” You told her all about the things that you’d done until you had tired yourself out. Charlotte found a book to read to you as you fell asleep and by the time your uncle came to get you, you were fast asleep. 

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

“Charlotte’s here,” Stephanie said and you rolled your eyes at her. “Don’t roll your eyes at me young lady.” 

“You sound like my mom,” you said and Stephanie scoffed at you. “I didn’t even roll them that much.” 

“Are you gonna say hi to Charlotte?” Stephanie asked. 

“I don’t know. I doubt she’d want to talk to me. I mean, she’s a college girl now,” you said nervously. Stephanie sighed and pulled you along backstage. Ric’s last match was almost over and there was going to be a party for him afterwards. Stephanie got you a pass to get into the party, so you could hang out with everybody for a bit. It was unlike the parties that you went to normally, but it was cool to feel sort of like an adult for once. 

“Y/n, oh my god!” Charlotte exclaimed. She wrapped you up in a hug and you swore that your heart fluttered. The older that you got, the more things you started to notice. You noticed that boys weren’t really all that cute, but there was something going on with girls. There was an attraction there and you wanted to kiss and be with girls the way that you’d always been told to do with boys. “You look so grown up.” 

“I mean, I am,” you said with a huff. “How’s it been Flair?” 

“Good, really good. Have you started thinking about your plans after school?” Charlotte asked you. 

“Yeah, I want to be a wrestler too. Stephanie has actually been working on getting me some basic training when she can. I’ve got great teachers when I’m here,” you told her proudly. The two of you continued to talk until she was pulled away to take pictures with her family. Before you left, Charlotte managed to drag you to see Ric, who was so excited to hear about your plans to continue your family’s name in wrestling. 

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

“Welcome to the NXT,” Hunter told you with a firm handshake. You smiled up at him and practically launched yourself into his arms. 

“What do you always tell me?” You looked up at him with an earnest smile. 

“None of that handshake bullshit,” Hunter mumbled. You nodded and let somebody show you to your locker. You put your piece of tape with your name on it where it went and then started to put your things inside. 

“Y/n?” Charlotte’s voice called out from behind you. You turned around to see the woman who had been one of your closest friends growing up and your childhood crush. “You got in?” 

“Yep,” you told her proudly. Charlotte pulled you in for a hug and held you tightly for a couple of minutes. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I haven’t seen you in forever. I’m so sorry. I meant to keep up with you, I swear that I did. I just, got lost in myself a bit and things got hectic,” Charlotte explained, even though she didn’t need to. 

“It’s fine. I mean, I was just the little kid who used to follow you around all the time,” you told her. 

“No way, you made me feel way cooler than anybody else did. You also did that without caring who my dad was.” Charlotte leaned against the wall as she spoke to you. 

“Because I thought you were the coolest person I’d ever met. I mean, do you realize that you were like, my biggest crush, ever?” you asked her. She blushed and shook her head. “Yeah, it was bad. Uncle Ricky used to joke that maybe in another life we were supposed to be sweethearts.” 

“We could still be sweethearts,” Charlotte offered. 

“Dinner after training?” you asked and she nodded. “Great, see you then sweetheart.” 

“See you then-,” Charlotte leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips, “-sweetheart.” 

[miss-tc-nova]

Ursine Ire - Hermod x Fem!Reader

I’ve been dying to do something with Hermod and his temper, so here it is! And I think I’ve finally got my chaos in check for a while, so hopefully I can get another fic or two out before Christmas rolls around. Also, sorry this one feels a little more straightforward than most of my stuff. 

~~~~~

              I’m late! I’m so late! They’re gonna kill me!

              Feet hit the stone path as fast as I can manage without blindly running into innocent bystanders—though there were a few close calls.

              Today, my friends and I are off to see a production Vor and Urd have been demanding we all attend—I was supposed to meet them half an hour ago. Now I’m racing like a rabbit from a dog praying I don’t have to face the wrath of the female wielders.

              Rounding a corner, my heart, just like my foot, skips when I nearly collide with the crowd I’ve let down.

              An outstretched arm intercepts me before I can crash. “Woah! Slow down!”

              Hermod, my boyfriend and the reason I have a great group of new friends, pulls me upright. Steadied by my grip on his haori, I heave so hard my lungs might just fall on the concrete.

              “And here we thought you’d forgotten,” teases the red-head. When I can’t stop gasping, Bragi tacks on, “Geeze, I thought Eraqus was Tardy Fleetfoot.”

              Said ‘Fleetfoot’ leans down. “Are you okay?”

              One more breath gives me my voice back. “I’m so sorry I’m late! I was reading a book and I lost track of time! When I looked at the clock, I freaked out and ran all the way here! I’m so sorry!”

              Soft chuckling brings my attention to the young man with an arm still around me. “It’s alright. We’ve still got some time,” he chuckles. A dip of his head connects his lips to my forehead, washing over that anxiety with a sweet serenity.

              “Cut it out, you two,” Urd insists, clearly not pleased by my tardiness. My boyfriend leans back, still happy but with a tad bit of sheepish mixed in. “That time we have is not enough for you to make out. If we don’t get going, we’ll miss the show.”

              “It might already be sold out!” little blond Vor exclaims.

              “Then let’s get a move on,” urges the boy in black.

              The group agrees and scampers through the streets towards the theater. When we get there, we see the mass of people shuffling into the stadium.

              “Okay, Vor and I will get the tickets,” insists the taller girl, holding her hand out expectantly.

              The boys rifle through pockets, but when I notice Hermod doing the same, I take his sleeve.

              “I’m paying this time,” I say.

              “Oh, it’s alright. I don’t mind.”

              “I don’t care if you mind. You paid for the last date; it’s my turn.” His mouth opens to argue. “Don’t make me ask nicely.”

              As it so happens, my asking Hermod ‘nicely’ is actually giving him the best puppy eyes I can, letting my bottom lip slip forward just a little, and saying please. My poor teddy bear has yet to refine any resistance to this technique. Due to this unfair trump card, I reserve it for dire occasions but sometimes just its mention is enough to tilt things in my favor.

              Shoulders slouch. “Fine.”

              Victoriously smiling, I place a peck against his cheek and scurry after the girls. As we chat, a peculiar couple comes up behind us. The woman tears into the man about them not showing up on time—I kind of feel sorry for him. Even so, their conflict is so unbearably awkward that it completely silences the light-hearted conversation we’d been having. There’s only a single person in front of us, but they cannot move fast enough to get us away from this disaster. Thankfully, after Urd gets her batch of tickets, the man sends the woman away, leaving the queue in an uncomfortable silence.

              Vor grabs hers next and bustles away while I quickly purchase mine. About halfway between the ticket booth and my friends, a hand takes my shoulder: it’s the man.

              “Uh…can I help you?” I ask, disquiet quickly simmering in my gut.

              “Yeah, actually, you bought the last two tickets. Mind if I take them?” There’s not even a trace of politeness in his words—it’s more like a statement than a request.

              Eyes dart to the group gossiping not that far away. I point in their direction. “Actually, I’m here to see the show with my friends. Sorry.”

              Anger rivaling the woman’s snaps into place. “So what. They can tell you about it later. Give me those tickets!”

              Not exactly a fighter myself, I step back. As I do, he reaches for me.

              A flash of green swipes up, swatting the grasping hand away. My boyfriend has come to save me with suspicion written across his face.

              “Is there a problem here?”

              “It’s none of your business,” growls the man.

              Slate eyes turn on me and I tell him, “He wants our tickets.”

              “And you paid for them?” I nod. Ever polite, the young man says, “I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t have our tickets. Please excuse us.” He turns back to me. “Come on. The show’s starting.”

              Relief takes over too soon when a fist appears around my wrist. So tight is the grasp that my hand quavers and I’m certain there will be bruising. This sudden spike of pain draws a yelp from my mouth that the heckler doesn’t acknowledge as he jerks me closer.

              In the next instant, I’m free. In the same manner, a hand crushes the thug’s wrist. An existential dread rolls over me and the man seems to realize he’s made a mistake.  

              I’ve always described my soft Hermod as a bear: he’s the biggest sweetheart, always looking out for me, and as cuddly as one might expect. However, another reason my brain thinks of a bear when concerning my boyfriend is his rage. He has a saintly patience; it takes something truly serious to push him to anger—something like assaulting his girlfriend—and when he reaches that point, he is terrifying. I’ve only ever seen this one other time when he was having a truly miserable day. He apologized afterwards but I will never forget the fury he exhumed, almost as if he were another person. He is the embodiment of a bear, anger and all.

              “Hermod!” Vor shouts.

              “Hold on there, Brother Bear!” Bragi appears and places a hand on the threatening arm.

              “How dare you,” Hermod snarls lowly, ignoring his friends. Barely veiled violence hides in his eyes. “She is under no obligation to give you anything and her refusal to do so gives you no right to put your hands on her.” I see his grip tighten, bringing the assailant to his knees. “Now apologize.”

              There’s resistance but a further constricting grip accompanied by bared teeth coerce a response. “S-Sorry!”

              Hermod’s hold releases, signaling that his uncertain classmates can relax.

              “You’d do well to learn some manners,” growls the irate boy. With that, an arm gently ushers me away from the scene. Every bit of that tense anger can be felt in his shielding arm. Anxiety bubbles in my chest but I follow without fuss.

              Only a few steps away and the man shows us he’s learned nothing. A boot to the back of my knee messes up my balance. My elbow scrapes across the ground though I’m far more concerned with the ensuing roar. Peering back reveals a frenzied Hermod swinging his keyblade. The weapon strikes the man hard enough to send him across the clearing into a brick wall where he crumples to the ground. Only three straining boys stop the young man from resuming his rampage.

              “DON’T YOU FUCKING COME NEAR HER AGAIN!” My jaw drops—I’ve never heard Hermod utter a single curse word in all our time dating, even on his worst days.

              The girls dash for the downed man. Urd exclaims, “He’s out cold!”

              “I WILL DESTROY YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

              “He can’t hear anything!” Xehanort shouts.

              “You got ‘im!” adds Bragi. “He’s done!”

              Their words fall on deaf ears as the fight to get at his foe floods Hermod’s mind. It’s frightening, far worse than the last time I saw him like this. If the others let him go, who knows what he’d do to that man—I can’t even guarantee murder would be off the table.

              As I watch the struggle, his name barely escapes my mouth. “Hermod.”

              Nothing changes; he’s still fighting—fighting to defend me.

              This is for me…

              Shoving off the ground, I rush to help the boys. Fists snag handfuls of the haori and push against his chest.

              “Hermod, stop! Please!”

              It all freezes; only heavy pants from the four boys breaks the silence. Almost afraid of what I might find, I peek up at my boyfriend’s face—it’s blank, like a chalkboard wiped clean. I don’t know if this makes me relieved or worried.

              Vor breaks the silence with an announcement. “Guys, he might need a doctor.”

              The wary boys release their classmate and Xehanort leans towards Bragi. “We’ll take care of the moron; you get these two someplace they can calm down.”

              “Good plan.” A palm to the chest pushes the impassive boy back. “Alright Brother Bear, let’s get outta here. You too, chickadee, come on.”

              Bragi steers the two of us down the street away from the mess we left. Silence stirs the distress I’d been boiling throughout the ordeal; I’m unable to stop ruminating on images of that fury.

              At the student dorms where the keyblade wielders train, our chaperone branches off. He leaves us in the entrance hall, still stifled in quiet, but returns rather quickly.

              “Yo, Hermod.” He shoves a box into the taller boy’s arms. “You might wanna patch up your girlfriend.”

              A light finally sparks in his eyes and Hermod turns on me. “Are you okay?”

              This is my Hermod and it’s almost alarming how this gentle giant could turn into something so vicious.

              “Yeah,” I mumble.

              That pain adds to my uncertainty, but it all goes out the window when my feet leave the ground. Too stunned to do anything about it, I let Hermod carry me through the halls of the student dorms; I do, however, flinch when his door flies open and closes with another slam. Hermod’s back hits the wall and he slumps to the floor, still clinging to me.

              “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into my shoulder.

              It takes a moment to gather my words. “That…That was pretty scary,” I whisper back.

              “I know and you deserve to be mad at me. I was out of line and I wasn’t thinking, but when he…”

              I already know why it happened, not that it makes it any better. Still, Hermod’s actions were for my sake; I don’t condone what he did but that man made it clear he wasn’t giving up without a fight. My boyfriend was protecting me.

              “Thank you.” Those slate eyes give me a perturbed look. I let the corners of my mouth turn up. “For sticking up for me.”

              Gods, I wanted to make him feel better, not add to that misery. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

              “I know.” I brush the hair from his face. “You’re such a sweetheart. But maybe next time we don’t knock someone unconscious with our keyblade.”

              He let’s a guilty sigh escape him, dropping his gaze. “I’m so sorry.”

              A finger leads his gaze back to me. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

              Again, his face hides against me. “It’s not your fault.” Pushing him back, I take his face in my hands and raise a brow; he gets the hint. “But I forgive you.”

              “I love you, Hermod,” I say, running circles across his cheeks with my thumbs.

              There’s the smile I’ve been looking for. “I love you too.”

              Content with the response, I kiss him. It’s short but oh so sweet—they always are with Hermod. I’d spend hours on end kissing him if there weren’t other matters to attend to.

              “Hermod?”

              “Hmm?” It’s a dreamy, peaceful sort of hum.

              “Who taught you the F word?” My accusations are mostly in jest but the results are perfectly entertaining. My gentle teddy bear bursts into a blush and begins stammering like a fool. “It was Bragi, wasn’t it?”

              “I—I—you—wh—”

              “I’m only teasing,” I sing, pinching at his cheeks. “Now fix my elbow please.”

              This vexed sigh comes with an adoring smile as he reaches for the first aid kit.

[takaraphoenix]

“I didn’t want to tell my friend who my real date last night was so I just pointed at a random stranger (you) but now they’re storming over to interrogate you and you’re playing along??? Okay” AU - Apollo/Percy

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, E. I hope you’re having a great day!

--

"Hey there. Are you alright? Can you tell me where you are?"

"...Heaven. There's an angel carrying me around. Definitely heaven."

"Not exactly. You inhaled a lot of smoke and you were unconscious, so, seriously, do you know where you are and who you are?", asked Percy amused. "Fire-fighter, not angel."

"I'm Apollo. This is... was... my studio. You're still an angel though."

"Ap... Apollo", sputtered Percy, stumbling just a little bit.

Apollo was like... the most listened-to musician these days. He was on the radio all the time. And he was really good. Still, that out of anyone who could have been at the studio when it burned down, it had to be Apollo. And now Percy was carrying him out into safety.

"The one and only, cutie", grinned the singer with a wink.

Despite being the one carrying Apollo bridal-style, Percy blushed brightly. Did the billionaire musician just flirt with him? Once outside, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

"What do we got here, Percy?", asked their medic – Annabeth Chase.

"Smoke inhalation, he was passed out when I found him", offered Percy. "Take care of him."

"No—o, come back, angel", gasped Apollo dramatically as Percy walked away.

"There, there. Another case of SPCS", sighed Annabeth, gaining Apollo's attention.

"W... What...? What is that? Is it bad?", asked Apollo concerned.

"Savior Percy Crush Syndrome", applied the other medic. "I'm Grover, that's Annabeth and the 'angel' who just walked away is Percy. Don't worry, developing a crush on the fire-fighter who saves them. Completely normal, especially with Percy, hence us having a name for it. Now, let's get you to the hospital and thoroughly checked out, okay?"

"...Okay", whispered Apollo, eyes on the retreating fire-fighter.

/break\

"You've been sighing miserably for days now, brother. It's time to change that."

"And you think cakes can do that?", huffed Apollo with a glower.

Admittedly, he was pining and thus sighing a lot, but in his defense? This time was different! The fire-fighter had saved his life. And looked insanely hot and cute and what was Apollo supposed to do? He had sent flowers and chocolate and also an entire barbecue to the fire house. The barbecue for the entire house, though the flowers and chocolate specifically for Percy to thank him.

"When have sweets ever failed to cheer you up, brother?"

Apollo smiled thinly and looked gratefully at his sister. Among his siblings, Persephone was the one he was closest to – it also helped that her husband owned the record-label that had signed him on and given him his great break-through. She owned a flower-shop, where Apollo had gotten all the flowers he had sent Percy to (and all the flowers he had sent to past crushes. He tended to fall in love quite easily, it was his biggest weakness and his biggest strength – his biggest hits were love-songs, ballads, songs about broken hearts, these kind of things).

"Very well, something sweet surely can't hu-", started Apollo just to pause.

He was in disguise, wearing a hoodie, hood up to cover his golden hair, sunglasses over his eyes. He looked just like a regular guy, not the suave charming musician, because he didn't want to immediately be recognized by everyone. However, it took him a moment to recognize the man behind the counter too. Without the fire-fighter uniform and instead in soft blue pastel...

"That's him", hissed Apollo, tugging hard on his sister's hand.

"Who's what?", asked Persephone confused, looking at him.

"The cutie behind the counter!", exclaimed Apollo, pointing. "That's the fire-fighter!"

Persephone blinked a couple of times and turned from Apollo over toward the baker behind the counter. "Percy? Wait. You mean Percy is the fire-fighter you're obsessed with? Percy?"

"Why do you say his name like that?", hissed Apollo confused.

"He's friends with my step-children", explained Persephone. "That's how I know the store. Bianca showed me, she's been bringing pastries home every Sunday for family dinners. And Nico used to have the hugest crush on him, back before he met Jason."

"...Huh", whispered Apollo. "Well. Yes. That's the Percy. The fire-fighter, I mean. The angel."

Persephone hummed, a smile on her lips as she tugged Apollo along toward the counter. "Percy, dear. How are you doing and what special thing did you make today?"

"Hey, Phone", greeted Percy with a smile on his lips. "Today's special is mango-quark cake."

"Perfect. That and your chocolate cake for my brother here. Polly, say something."

"Why would you do this to me, Phone?", complained Apollo distressed, slowly lifting his hood.

"Oh. Oh", whispered Percy surprised, looking between Apollo and Persephone. "How have you never mentioned that your brother is a famous singer?"

"It never came up in conversation", chimed Persephone with a shrug. "Come along, Polly."

She tugged Apollo along to sit and wait for their food and drinks to arrive. Apollo continued glaring and throwing longing glances at Percy. He looked so soft in his pastel clothes. Apollo was weak...

/break\

"How did the Apollo become a regular at my bakery?", whispered Percy distressed.

"First of all, our bakery. Second of all, because he has a giant crush on you", replied Grover.

Being a fire-fighter was fun and made money, but... not that much money. Two years ago, Percy and Grover had, with some silent partners from their fire-house, bought a coffee-shop. They sold a variety of sweets – including vegan treats, thanks to Grover's cunning abilities.

"He... He's a billionaire superstar, he is most definitely not crushing on me", laughed Percy amused.

Annabeth, who occasionally helped out as a barista, simply gave him the most scorching look at that. "I know for a fact that you aren't stupid, Jackson. Why would a billionaire come to a small bakery like that every week, multiple times. He tips you a fifty usually. He still brings you flowers."

"Because I saved his life", argued Percy confused and turned to look over at Apollo.

"Go on and ask him then if you know better than us", huffed Annabeth. "Go. Ask him."

She pushed the large coffee at Percy and raised her eyebrows at him. Sighing, Percy took it and the piece of cake Apollo had ordered and went to bring both to the superstar. Apollo looked up with a blinding smile, putting down his pen. He was always writing when he was here.

"What... are you writing, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Songs. This place is ideal for song-writing", stated Apollo. "Very... inspiring."

Percy smiled and nodded at that. So that was why Apollo came here, to write songs. Not whatever Annabeth and Grover were imagining. He put the food and drink down and returned to work.

/break\

Apollo came in with a stunning blonde. A model. Percy was pretty sure he had seen her on a cover or something. The two talked loudly, but suddenly after a little while, the beautiful woman ran up to Percy, excitement sparkling in her eyes as she pressed her hands against the glass and leaned in.

"You are so gorgeous. What a handsome face and those eyes are brilliant."

"Uhm... thank you", muttered Percy confused, blinking a couple times.

"Aphrodite, no. Please stop it, leave him alone", groaned Apollo as he came up behind her.

"Shush it, Polly. He is so pretty. I have a right to meet your new sweetheart."

"Why don't you uh order coffee and give me a moment with him?", pleaded Apollo.

Aphrodite sighed and obeyed with a pout, while Percy continued staring in confusion. "What?"

"Aphrodite is very obsessed with romance. She just asked me who my last date was and I got... flustered and just... pointed at you because I didn't want to tell her the truth. Please play along."

"Only if you tell me the truth", argued Percy, one eyebrow raised and blush on his cheeks.

Apollo glowered, his own cheeks dark-red. "I haven't had a date in months, that's it. Okay?"

"You... But... You literally just got this amazing new love-song out?", asked Percy confused.

"That's exactly why she is bugging me too", sighed Apollo, rubbing his forehead.

"C'mo—on. You've been a regular here for... for months now", offered Percy, at first teasingly but then slowly growing doubtful. "You come in... like... trice a day... to... write... your songs... oh."

Apollo bit his lip and glared at little at a doughnut to not look at Percy. "So I may have a slight... crush... on you. That's it, okay? But if I tell her that, she's just going to get pushy and try to set us up and... I wanted to spare both of us this embarrassment..."

"Huh", whispered Percy, blinking a few times and tilting his head. "So... Annie and Grover are right? You... really have... feelings for me. And here I thought they were imagining things."

"How could I not?", asked Apollo bewildered, pointing at Percy. "Look at you. Strong, cunning fire-fighter and soft, gentle baker at the same time!"

Percy could feel his cheeks heating up again and he ruffled his own hair awkwardly. "Uhm... so... you... fine just watching from a distance, or do you wanna take me out on a date, huh?"

Apollo stared wide-eyed and unmoved before he blinked a couple of times. "I... I... what?"

"I mean, you told your friend there that we are already dating, so how about we... date for real and you won't have to lie to her anymore?", suggested Percy with a cheeky grin.

Again, Apollo simply stared at him. Like he was trying to figure out if this was an awful or a brilliant idea. Percy simply continued smiling and waited, even as Aphrodite returned to them.

"Your cakes re amazing, Percy", pointed Aphrodite out. "But don't you spoil Polly too much. His personal trainer would torture him for it. Well, it was nice meeting you. Next time I come over, I demand details but for now I'll have to rush, I guess."

"No worries, next time you come over, I'll be able to tell you everything about our first date!", chimed Percy with a bright smile, flustering Apollo in the process.

Apollo sputtered, but he was definitely not going to argue with this. He... had a date.

[lalainajanes]

The Kindness of Strangers

It takes a good half hour for Caroline to realize that she’s been ditched.

In her defense, she’s not exactly at her best.

She can’t stop coughing, her chest hurts. She’s freezing, still wearing her coat and scarf even though she’s been indoors, waiting for her turn to see a doctor, for three hours. Caroline will admit that she’s never been an ideal patient. She hates every single part of being sick – gross fluids leaking from her body, disruptions to her carefully plotted schedule. She loathes weakness, isn’t used to having to count on other people. She’s lived in Chicago for just under a year, doesn’t have many people to rely on.

She’d been self medicating for days, guzzling DayQuil and NyQuil in turn, googling home remedies and forcing down cup after cup of chamomile tea with honey.

The medicine hadn’t helped, nor had the tea and the best medical advice Pinterest had to offer.

Hence why she’s sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, in a packed waiting room, braving screaming children, bloody wounds, and even more airborne germs.

She’s staring dumbly down at her phone, at the picture that’s just popped up on her Instagram feed. Posted just a few seconds ago it features her boyfriend at the gym, his face strained as he lifts a kettlebell. She hadn’t bothered to read the caption, knows it’s some nonsense about reps or mile times that she’s only ever feigned interest in for the sake of politeness.

He’d been yammering on about his workout plans since he’d picked her up. Caroline had been humming in acknowledgement at regular intervals but she’d figured it didn’t need to be explicitly stated that leaving her in a hospital waiting room was so not cool.

Apparently she’d been mistaken.

“Please tell me he’s some sort of useless relation. A cousin you’re only nice to because your mum insists.”

Caroline’s head swivels to the speaker, a touch surprised by the accent. The guy next to her is looking down at her phone, his expression disbelieving.  She’d nodded tiredly at him when she’d sat down, some part of her brain cataloguing a general impression of an attractive man in her age range. She hadn’t been in the mood for conversation and he hadn’t attempted one either. She’d felt him shifting next to her, restless, and probably in pain judging by the impressive rainbow of purple-black bruises covering his bare left foot.

She should probably snap at him, demand he mind his own business but, if her own freaking boyfriend can’t be bothered to skip a workout when she’s in the emergency room, it’s probably a good idea to expand her social circle.

“My mom has even less time for useless relations than I do.”

“She sounds like a smart woman. Does she like your boyfriend?”

Her mother had yet to be introduced. Caroline had planned a trip to Mystic Falls for a long weekend but Stefan’s brother had called last minute with one of his bimonthly crisis’s so Caroline had made the trip solo. In hindsight, maybe she should have read more into the lack of effort. “Very smart. And handy with all manner of firearms.”

A warning, just in case he happens to be a serial killer.

His brows rise, a hint of amusement beginning to curl his lips. Caroline’s forced turn away and bury her face in the crook of her elbow as she’s wracked with coughs. She slumps back when she’s done, needs a moment to catch her breath.

When she peels her eye open her neighbor’s expression has softened with concern. “I’m Klaus,” he offers.

“Caroline.”

His arm nudges hers on the armrest between their chairs, a weird approximation of a handshake that Caroline returns. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, even if the circumstances are less than ideal.”

She’s naturally nosy, and he’s given her an opening, “What happened to your foot?”

“Stupid accident. I was helping my brother move, he got distracted. A rather heavy sofa came down on my foot.”

Caroline winces in sympathy, leans forward to peer around Klaus. She hadn’t noticed him talking to another guy but, as she hadn’t really noticed Stefan taking his leave while in her fog of misery, that doesn’t mean much. “Is he here?”

Klaus makes a low noise of denial, “God, no. Kol can only sit still as long as the average five year old. I’ll be storing this incident away for later, when I need a bigger favor than a ride to the hospital.”

Caroline doesn’t know much about healthy sibling relationships but she can admire a strategic mind.

“How long have you been waiting for?”

“I got here about an hour before you did.”

“Ugh,” Caroline grumbles, crossing her arms and yanking her sleeves down over her hands, “maybe I should have just made another pharmacy run and gone back to bed.”

Klaus leans forward, pulls a jacket and a scarf out from under his seat. He shakes them out, offering them to her. “Here. I find it quite warm in here but you’re obviously suffering.”

She shakes her head, “No, I wouldn’t want to infect you with whatever I have.”

“Did you just fall ill?”

“It’s been a few days.”

Kat, her boss, had bullied her out of the office when Caroline had nearly passed out after standing up after a meeting. Caroline had tried to protest but Katherine Pierce was excellent at getting her own way. Caroline had been in the back of a town car, under a blanket, with a driver who’d had strict instructions to only stop at a restaurant for the giant takeaway container of chicken noodle soup Kat had ordered.

She’d texted Stefan when she’d gotten home, had gotten sympathy followed by an apology. He’d told her to rest, that he hoped she’d feel better soon, but he’d claimed that he couldn’t rick catching anything, not when he’s training for a marathon.

Alone on her couch, trying to muster the energy to get herself to her bedroom so she could change out of her pencil skirt and blouse, Caroline had told herself that she shouldn’t be resentful. That ambition was sexy, goals were admirable, and she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

That it wasn’t at all annoying that, just a month ago, she’d spent a whole weekend refilling a hot water bottle for Stefan every half hour after he’d pulled a muscle. He hadn’t asked her, she’d offered, and relationships shouldn’t have scorecards.

Maybe they had different love languages. That didn’t mean they were incompatible.

Reciting the bullet points from Cosmo relationship articles hadn’t stopped Caroline from feeling resentful.

Klaus shakes his jacket gently, drawing her attention back to him, “I doubt you’re contagious at this point.”

The jacket looks to be wool, heavy and lined and probably super cozy. She only hesitates for another second before taking it, draping it over herself like a blanket and looping the scarf around her neck.

She manages to avoid obviously tucking her nose into the fabric, to better appreciate the light touch of the very nice cologne Klaus must use.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “You can tell your significant other that you’ve earned a pile of gentleman points.”

It’s not the most subtle fishing Caroline’s ever done but she’ll just have to blame that on the large doses of over the counter meds still swimming through her system.

Klaus doesn’t seem to mind, his smile widening as he leans back in his seat. He rests his head back against the wall and sprawls a bit, closer to her than he’d been before. “There’s no significant other.”

She probably shouldn’t consider that good news but she totally does.

“And you?” Klaus asks, “how long have you and the… fitness afficianado been an item?”

Caroline suspects the moniker he’s settled on is far more polite than he’d like to be.

“About six months. But we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“Let me guess, you were high school sweethearts who reunited years later.”

His distaste is obvious and Caroline laughs softly. “Um, no. Not even close. I had a ginormous crush on him but he was really into my best friend.”

Who’d waffled between being into Stefan right back and being into Stefan’s older brother.

Klaus sighs, “So he’s got an appalling lack of taste in addition to his other less than stellar qualities.”

It’s instinct to jump to Stefan’s defense. “He’s really a great guy.”

“I’m sure.”

“He’s training for a marathon. It’s a lot of work.”

“Is this marathon tomorrow?” Klaus asks pointedly. “Because otherwise I don’t understand why he couldn’t take a day off when you’re so ill you can barely walk.”

Caroline deflates, presses her lips together as she swallows the argument she’d been about to make. She’s had plenty of practice lately. When she’d first moved, and Stefan had shot her a message offering to take her out for a drink to celebrate her new job, it had been easy to fall back in with her old friends. He’d been familiar, Elena and Damon too, and she’d been busy with her new job and settling into a new apartment. It had been easier to relearn how to be around them than to meet new people.

She’s a people person though, has started getting closer to a few coworkers, and Enzo, Rebekah and Kat all have certain opinions about Stefan that Klaus is mirroring.

“Perhaps this is none of my business,” Klaus says, after her silence has stretched on. He’s watching her carefully, like he’s wondering if he’s pushed too far.

“It’s really not.”

“Lost those gentleman points, did I?” he jokes.

Caroline laughs, willing to roll with his attempt to lighten the mood. “Maybe not all of them.” Because she is warmer now, with his layers piled on top of hers. “Where are you from, anyway?”

He’d given her the perfect opening to pry and Caroline’s not going to waste the opportunity.

All in the interest of broadening her social circle of course.

A month later, after a breakup, rearranging her entire apartment (three times), she’s decided to make more of an effort to turn her coworkers into real friends.

Rebekah’s throwing herself a birthday party. There’s even a dress code. Enzo informs Caroline that all of Rebekah’s brothers are ridiculously hot, so clearly she needs a great new dress. And heels. And some lingerie and a new lipstick because, why not?

She sees Klaus before he sees her. He’s planted on a loveseat in the living room, his casted foot resting on an ottoman. He’s flitted through her thoughts more than once since they’d met and Caroline had regretted not getting his contact info. Or at least a last name.

Klaus might be a unique name but her attempts at social media stalking had all failed.

Caroline grabs a flute of champagne (seriously, Rebekah knew how to throw a party) and hugs the perimeter of the room. She approaches Klaus from behind, sitting down on the arm next to him and chirping, “Well, fancy meeting you here.”

His eyes snap up, widening when he recognizes her. “Caroline,” he says, something like wonder coloring the tone.

It’s enough to confirm that she’d not the only one who’s spent way too much time thinking about those few hours they’d spent together.

“Glad you remember me,” she teases. “How do you know Rebekah?”

“She’s my sister.” He shifts over, threading his finger through hers to pull her down next to him. Caroline has no objections, not even when he’s pressed along her side, leaving enough room for another person beside him. “And you?”

“We work together.”

“Small world,” Klaus murmurs, very pleased about it.

Caroline can relate.

She nods down to his foot, “What was the verdict?”

He groans, “At least six weeks in the cast. I’m right sick of it. I’ve barely left my place since it happened because I can’t drive and the simplest things are infinitely more annoying.”

“I’m glad you made it out tonight.”

He’s still got her hand clasped in his but his free arm comes up, resting loosely around her shoulders. He speaks more softly and Caroline leans closer to make sure she can hear. “Likewise, love. I’ll never complain about Rebekah being a shameless nag again.”

Somehow, Caroline doubts that.

She spends the duration of the party at Klaus’ side but she meets a whole pile of new people. There’s Kol, the brother whose couch had maimed Klaus’ foot, Elijah, who is a little scary, with his appraising eyes and aggressively perfect manners. She gets some tips about thrifting vintage clothes from Gia, a classical violinist, and when she chats with Marcel he says he hopes he sees her around, promises that he knows plenty of embarrassing stories about Klaus.

She’s kind of kicking herself for falling back into old habits when she’d first moved to Chicago. Clearly, she’s pretty kickass at making friends.

She leaves with Klaus’ number in her phone and plans for dinner the next night.

Sunday brunch plans follow, with Rebekah, where there are bottomless mimosas and vague threats.

It’s easily the best weekend she’s had since moving.

Though not for long.

[supremeuppityone]

Written for @kcfanficweek Klaroline Fanfiction Week Day 1- All Human Fanfic Day. 

This is a follow-up to my work in A Beautiful Symmetry, Chapter 83: Part 10 - Klarosummer Bingo. Thanks for all of the asks and encouragement to write more from this world. Enjoy!

Please review here.

Part 2: Newsflash — seashell bras give me hives

         The fake pine scent coupled with musk overwhelmed her senses and made her gag. She blinked rapidly, realizing she was waking face-first on the couch. Fuck. It smelled like Damon had rubbed his Paco Rabanne-soaked ass all over it. “Easy sweetheart,” Klaus murmured unexpectedly from above.

           She looked up, wincing at the bruises she could feel along the base of her skull. Klaus’ concerned face was a bit fuzzy as she tried to focus, but once she took in the severity of his own injuries, she snapped back to reality. At least one black eye, cuts along his cheeks and forehead that looked suspiciously like the gaudy rings that bore the Salvatores’ family crest. “Klaus? Oh, my god — what did those bastards do to you?!”

           “Nothing I don’t intend to return in kind,” he answered, the coldness of his voice making her shiver.

           The Salvatores had first introduced Klaus as ‘new money business’, which Caroline had assumed meant that he was a high-level dealer, or maybe even a drug lord. She’d been careful around him, doing her best to check her curiosity whenever she saw him at the club, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he had information she could use. Especially now that it seemed the badge lying on the coffee table belonged to him.

           She was pissed at him for keeping secrets, but realized she was being a hypocrite. After all, she’d weaseled her way into Salvatore Sirens, the mermaid-themed burlesque club, under false pretenses too. It was all Bonnie’s stupid fault — her loser boyfriend got in too deep with the Salvatores and couldn’t pay them back — so she begged Caroline to get a job there and spy on the Salvatores and get evidence of their drug trafficking.

           All this time, she’d felt conflicted about her growing feelings for Klaus, worried about how to keep him out of this mess when she finally had evidence to take to the police. And it turned out that Klaus was the police. She nodded to his badge, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, “Of all the things I would’ve guessed about you, this was not one of them.”

           “You wondered about me,” he asked in an oddly hopeful tone. “I wasn’t sure how much of what you’d shown me was real.” At her affronted expression, he hastily explained, “Not that I assumed anything untoward about you or your...assets. They’re lovely.” Gray eyes widened in horror as he quickly corrected his wandering gaze, adding, “I meant that you’re lovely! All of you, that is.”

           She raised an eyebrow, not really sure what to say. Klaus rambled when he was nervous. And he wasn’t nearly as smooth as his drug lord persona he’d adopted for his undercover work. She liked this Klaus better. “You’re lovely as well.” With a teasing wink, she added, “All of you.” The throbbing of her head reminded her that this definitely was the wrong time to flirt. “Tell me you have a plan,” she muttered, careful to keep her voice low in case the Salvatores were watching them.

           “Everything will be fine, Caroline. I promise.”  

           “Well, this is just awkward. Because I’m pretty sure nothing will be fine for either of you ever again,” Damon sneered, straddling a chair off to the side while Stefan creepily sat so close to Caroline he almost was in her lap. Both brothers had dark eyes, but it was Stefan’s that she found the most disturbing. They were perfectly blank — devoid of emotion — but yet they glittered with an eerie awareness. And right now, it was directed at her.

           When Stefan began running his fingers along the top of her hand, she immediately tried to jerk it away, her flesh crawling from his touch. However, his grip was iron and she had no choice but to let him continue his silent exploration.

           “Let go of her,” Klaus snarled, struggling to break free of his bonds.

           Damon watched him struggle, an amused grin on his pale face as he said, “We’re going to play a game. I’ll ask you questions, and each time you lie, my brother with touch another part of Caroline. And she has so many pretty parts.” He cocked his dark head, his voice little more than a sleazy purr. “And just so you know, Stefan has had his eye on her for awhile. Normally, there’s a strict a hands-off policy with our girls — since it’s just not worth the payoffs or the inevitable body dumps — but your little crush on her is too convenient not to exploit.”

           Caroline sucked in a gasp, looking away from Stefan’s blank stare as he continued to weirdly massage her knuckles. Fuck — why was he licking his lips?

           Clearly noticing Stefan’s disconcerting behavior, Klaus ground out through clenched teeth, “What do you want to know?”    

           “Your badge says ‘narcotics’. So, what are you? Cop? DEA?”

           “Narcotics agent. With the DEA,” He replied tersely. His steely gaze flicked over to Stefan, who paid him no mind as he continued to toy with Caroline’s hand, running a blunt nail across her cuticles. “I answered your question — let go of her,” he seethed.

           Damon shook his head, dark eyes full of mirth as he taunted, “You answered one question. And Stefan is still only touching one of Caroline’s parts. We need to give him a freebie — trust me, you don’t want Stefan to have idle hands.”

           She hated that she shivered at Damon’s threatening words, the weight of Stefan’s empty stare making her want to scream. Her thoughts raced at what Klaus had revealed. He wasn’t a local police officer — he worked at the federal level. This meant he was even more useful to her cause than she’d realized. Plus, it meant the Feds already were onto the Salvatores’ drug operation. With a start, she remembered the tiny camera hidden among the gaudy pearls of her ridiculous seashell bra. She needed to make sure everything that happened here was caught on camera.

           She subtly shifted, arching her back to get the best possible angle. She sat very still as she focused on Damon to ensure several frames were captured before moving onto Klaus, hoping she properly catalogued all of his injuries. It was when she turned her attention to Stefan that Damon called her out with a sharp laugh, “What’s with you pointing your tits at my brother? Yeah, your rack’s pretty awesome, but you’re one crazy bitch if you think it’s going to save you.”

           “Leave her alone,” Klaus demanded, mercifully pulling focus away from her for the moment.

           His face cleared as he nodded in agreement. “Right — back to my questions. So how long have the Feds been onto us and what evidence do you guys have?”

           Stefan briefly looked away from her, seemingly interested in Klaus’ response, and she quickly considered her options. What could she use as a weapon? She couldn’t risk damaging the camera in her ridiculous bra and the sequins of her mermaid costume only would scrape skin, not break it. Her Salvatore Sirens’ outfit was just as useless as it was uncomfortable. As she shifted her hips, she jumped slightly at the press of the steel boning that was poking its way through a hole in the lining. Of course! She’d accidentally ripped a seam climbing out of the giant clamshell during her act, and there hadn’t been time to see the stage manager before she was expected to mingle with the crowd.

           With a slight nudge of her free hand, she caressed the sharp tip of the metal, slowly inching it out of the small tear in the fabric. Once it was out, she hugged it tightly between her palm and her thigh, weighing her options. While she wished she could use it to cut through Klaus’ bonds, Stefan or Damon would stop her first. She had no choice — she’d need to injure Stefan before doing anything else. Feeling slightly queasy, she sucked in a breath and then took advantage of Stefan’s uncomfortably close proximity to lean into him just enough to hide her weapon. Her unexpected move distracted him and she managed to put all of her weight behind the first blow, jamming the rigid piece of metal into his neck. He immediately bellowed, instinctively grabbing at it to yank it out, spraying blood while Damon cursed and reached for her.

           She barely avoided Damon’s clutches, shoving a still-screaming Stefan away from her to get to Klaus. However, Klaus surprised her by leaping to his feet, hands already free. He’d silently freed himself and had been biding his time. In a blinding burst of speed, he’d managed to strike down Damon with some sort of downward-slashing movement with his elbow, and delivered a powerful punch to Stefan’s jaw, causing him to crumple to the ground with a pitiful moan, his neck wound continuing to bleed.  

           A fine spray of blood had splattered across them both and the air stank of sweat; however, Caroline was certain she’d never been more turned on in her life as she stared in wonder at Klaus. Returning her heated gaze, he told her, “You jumped the gun a bit, but I do enjoy a woman who takes charge, love.”

           Before she could reply, the room suddenly swarmed with agents who secured the Salvatores and began checking Caroline and Klaus’ injuries. He grimaced a bit when one of the agents poked a bit too hard at his ribs, but continued his debriefing, glancing over at Caroline to say, “While the Salvatores destroyed the bugs I’d planted in here, at least you’ll be able to corroborate what happened.”

           Caroline nodded, blue eyes lighting up excitedly as she answered, “Plus, there’s my boob camera!”

           From the quirk of his brow and flash of his dimples, it seemed Klaus was anxious to give her evidence a thorough examination.

[thatfanficstuff]

The Light in my Darkness - 3

Pairing: Almost Clint x reader

Warnings: language (I won’t be listing that after this chapter. Just assume from now on.) discussions of a not so normal contract. 

A/N: This was supposed to be a short chapter. And this is not how this was outlined to go AT ALL. I blame the reader and Clint for this one. 

***

The next day you stood in front of the Hawkeye International building and shielded your eyes as you gazed up at it. You’d been here before with Wanda, but this was the first time visiting on your own. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves and stepped through the door. After giving your eyes a minute to adjust, you made your way to the front desk to get a visitor’s badge.

Once you showed your ID, the rest of the process was hassle free as you were on the permanent access list. Clint had seen to that after the third time you’d shown up with Wanda unexpectedly and they’d had to track him down to get permission for you to visit. You smiled at the memory as you clipped the badge they gave you to your clothes. Clint had gone off on an absolute tirade. It had been clear that he understood the need for security but didn’t care for the process behind it much.

According to Wanda, her dad was still very much the soldier with an idea and some well-connected friends, as opposed to the typical CEO. Clint Barton had served in the special forces and had been a member of the US archery team. His brilliant mind had combined the two into a business. His company specialized in survival gear. A collapsible bow had been their first product and from there they’d just continued to grow. 

You also knew that Hawkeye had combined with Stark Industries to create a line of prosthetics aimed at soldiers and athletes that would enable them to continue to do the things they thought they would no longer be able to. That was due to Bucky Barnes, whom had served with Clint and lost an arm. Wanda said he did everything with his new arm he could do with the old. Sometimes more.

Lost in your thoughts, you arrived at the top floor quickly and had to reach out a hand to stop the door from closing on you. You shook your head and walked down the hall to Clint’s office. You’d been awake half the night going over everything you knew about Clint and his company. He had to be offering you a job, right? Why else would he want to see you? Of course, if you didn’t have a giant crush on the man in question, you probably wouldn’t be so nervous.

His assistant Wade ran his eyes over you as you approached and gave you a tight smile when you stopped in front of his desk. “Can I help you?” It didn’t matter how many times you came here, this man never remembered you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here to see Clint Barton.” Of course, you are. This is his office. Damn it, Y/N. Get yourself together. “He’s expecting me.”

He blinked and kept that fake smile plastered to his face. “I am aware.” He picked up his phone and pressed a button, keeping his eyes locked on you the entire time. “Boss, your guest is here. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir.”

The yes, sirs continued as the office door opened. Clint looked between you and Wade with a frown. “Wade. I’m not even on the phone anymore. What the hell are you doing?”

He hung up the phone and laced his fingers together while keeping that stupid expression on his face. “Nothing, boss.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Clint closed his eyes and shook his head. “Go to lunch, Wade.”

“It’s only 11:00.”

“Lunch, Wilson.” Clint’s voice was little more than a growl.

“I think I’ll just go to lunch.”

You and Clint watched Wade disappear down the hall. When you turned back toward him, you found Clint fighting a grin. He stepped back and opened the door wide. “Come on in, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks heated with the endearment which was stupid but you couldn’t help it apparently. He closed the office door behind you and steered you to a chair with a hand on your back. His thumb rubbed lightly back and forth which only served to make your face heat more. Once you were both settled in your seats, Clint laced his hands together on his desk and looked you over.

Honestly, it had been awhile since you’d seen him for more than a few minutes at a time so you took the opportunity to look him over as well. You were used to seeing him in jeans and t-shirts or dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up and he seemed out of place in the suit to you. But damn did he wear it well. Realizing you’d been staring for perhaps a beat too long, you tore your gaze from him to look out the window.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I assume you’re wondering why I told Wanda to have you come see me.”

“A bit, yeah. I mean I assume it has something to do with everything going on right now.” You met his eyes briefly before looking down. “I wish she hadn’t told you about that.”

“What? Why?” He seemed genuinely confused but you still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze.

You didn’t answer and it wasn’t long before a pair of well-dressed legs and designer shoes filled your vision as Clint came around the desk to stand in front of you. Now you were even more embarrassed than you had been before. Him crouching in front of you and placing a hand under your chin to lift your head didn’t help that any. His clear blue-green eyes searched yours. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

It wasn’t a request. You wiped a hand down the top part of your face and huffed out a breath. “It’s just embarrassing.”

He straightened and leaned against the front of his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and you couldn’t help but notice the way it pulled the fabric of his coat tight across his shoulders. You bit your lip and looked away from him. “What on earth do you have to be embarrassed about? None of this is your fault.”

You let out a laugh. “Try telling that to my father. He’d say this is entirely my fault.”

Clint arched a brow and pursed his lips. “Yeah, well… It’s probably best if we leave my opinion of your father out of the conversation.”

You hummed in agreement and left it at that. “So, why did you wish to see me, Mr. Barton?”

His eyes seemed to darken as they ran over you again and his tongue darted out to trace his bottom lip. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You haven’t called me anything but Clint for years, Y/N.” His voice was low, rough.

It was true, you hadn’t. Why it slipped out now, you had no idea. Well, maybe you had a bit of one. The corner of your mouth kicked up in a grin and you hoped he didn’t notice the way your cheeks heated. “It’s the suit.”

He glanced down in surprise as if just realizing what he was wearing. When he looked back up, he was grinning. “This is a bit different than what you usually see me in.” He tilted his head. “Does it meet with your approval?”

You sucked in a breath as your eyes widened. Why would he ask you that? Why would he care what your opinion was? Your gaze ran over him of its own accord before you met his gaze again. “It’s nice. Not my favorite look on you, but it holds its own.”

His brows lifted. “And what exactly might your favorite look for me be?”

You knew the moment the words left your mouth that they were a mistake. You shook your head instead of answering. “Why am I here, Clint?”

His lips twitched and he glanced down briefly. When he looked back to you, you saw a spark of something in his eye you couldn’t identify. “I have a proposition for you.”

You brushed aside his odd wording. “Like a job?”

“Not remotely.”

Your brow furrowed. “Then what?”

He sighed. “I am about to tell you some things that I prefer you not repeat to anyone. Including Wanda. Normally I’d have you sign something before we had this conversation, but I’ll accept your word.”

“I won’t say anything,” you replied with no hesitation.

“I haven’t dated anyone in years,” he started.

You frowned. That wasn’t true at all. You’d seen some of the women he dated, compared yourself to them. Each and every one of them had been gorgeous.

Clint chuckled at your expression. “Never play poker, Y/N. Your emotions are written all over your face.”

You barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “All right. If you know what I’m thinking then explain.”

“I had agreements with those women. Contracts.”

Your eyes went wide. “So, they were escorts?”

“Absolutely not,” he was quick to protest with a shake of his head. “It’s not about the sex. It’s about the relationship.”

It must have been obvious that you were confused as hell because he looked at you and sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, look… Do you remember when you and Wanda were in high school and that kid Joel found out Rumlow was your dad?”

Your lip curled in disgust automatically at the memory. “He tormented me from the day he met me and all of a sudden he wanted to date me. Asshole.”

He smirked. “Exactly. Now imagine that same scenario only you are well past marriageable age and everyone knows precisely who you are and can estimate how much money you have. You know I made my fortune. I didn’t grow up with money. There was a time I didn’t understand the lengths people will go to get it. I was naïve about a woman once. I won’t let it happen again.”

By the end of his little spiel, his smile had faded entirely and his words were clipped. Whatever had happened to him, must have been brutal. You wondered if Wanda even knew. If she did, she’d never mentioned anything about it. “And what does this have to do with me?”

“I recently terminated my contract with Sharon. I need a new companion and I am offering that position to you.”

You blinked several times then licked your lips. You should refuse outright, but you always were too curious for your own good. “And what does that mean exactly?”

Despite the fact that he was the one offering you the position, Clint seemed slightly stunned that you hadn’t just turned him down. “You accompany me to events. We go on dates. Spend time together if we choose. As far as everyone else is concerned, we are dating and I am unavailable. In return, I take care of you.”

“Take care of me?”

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “I will pay for all your living expenses, including school. You would need to leave your job at the diner. School will take up enough of your time without adding a job to the mix. If you still want to work, I can find you something here so you can be off when I need you to be.”

You hopped to your feet and paced the floor, glancing at him occasionally as you processed what he’d just said to you. It couldn’t be that simple. “I feel like there’s a catch I’m missing.”

Clint shook his head. “No catch, Y/N. It’s a business arrangement. Nothing more.”

Coming to a stop in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Okay. Then why me? Is this a pity thing?”

His brow furrowed. “Pity?”

You shrugged. “I’ve seen the women you go out with. They’re gorgeous. Sophisticated. I’m just…not. Yes, things kind of suck for me right now, but I can deal with it. I don’t need your charity, Clint Barton.”

He reached out and grasped your waist to pull you closer. One hand stayed settled on your hip while the other pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You ignored the tremor that ran up your spine at his touch. “First of all, you are stunning and any man would be proud to have you on his arm. Second, if any pity is involved, it would be you taking pity on me. The women I have had arrangements with in the past have all been beautiful, that’s true. They’ve also been bitchy, shallow, and, in the case of one, just plain stupid. It would be a pleasant change to actually enjoy spending time with the person that’s supposed to my girlfriend.”

“So, we wouldn’t be dating but would appear to be for all intents and purposes?”

“Exactly.” His hand cupped the side of your neck then his thumb ran across your jawline. “We would simply be two adults that enjoy one another’s company spending time together.”

Your heart raced in your chest and it became slightly harder to take a deep breath. “And no sex?”

Pink dusted his cheeks even though he smirked at the question. “If it happens, it happens but it is not a requirement, no. The only place you’ll find it mentioned in the contract is in the non-disclosure portion.”

You licked your lips as your eyes locked on his. “And PDA?”

He nodded slightly. “We do have to be a believable couple but we’re talking hand holding and the occasional kiss. We don’t need to have a full make out session in public.” Laughter colored his words.

Your gaze darted up to meet his. “I’m glad you find me so amusing.”

Both of his hands shifted so he was cradling your face. “I’m not amused. I’m fucking thrilled you’re even considering this.”

And you shouldn’t be. God, you should have run in the opposite direction the moment the conversation started. But now all you could think about was the warmth of his hands. Or what his lips would feel like against yours. Could you really pass up the opportunity to spend time with him? Kiss him? You sucked in a breath for fortification then leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

There was no hesitation on his part, no question lingering on those sweet, soft lips. He used his hands to tilt your head to the perfect angle and traced your bottom lip with his tongue. When you gasped, he seized the moment to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues danced around each other, easily finding a rhythm. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed yourself against his front. His fingers slid back to tangle themselves in your hair and hold you in place.

He grew hard against you while you grew warm in all the right places. You’d never had a kiss like this. One that you felt through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You’d imagined kissing this man dozens of times but never had your brain even come close to this. There was no way you could pass this up. Even if it wasn’t real, you wanted it for however long you could hold on to it.

Finally, you pulled away, tracing your tingling lips with your tongue as you studied his expression. He looked just as dazed as you felt. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed.” He kissed you again, softer and less needy this time. It lasted only a few seconds which wasn’t nearly long enough in your opinion. “I guess that answers the question of chemistry.”

You laughed at that and pulled away from him completely, praying your legs remained steady long enough for you to leave his office with your dignity intact. “Get me the contract, Clint. I’ll read it and let you know.”

You felt his eyes on you as you left his office and you glanced back just before you passed through the door. His dark gaze burned as he watched you, and the smile he graced you with was downright sinful. Damn.

This was either going to be the best decision you ever made or the worst.

****

Clint’s gaze followed you until you disappeared through the door. That kiss still played in his mind. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared a kiss like that with someone. Had he ever? He reached over to pick up his phone and pressed one of the speed dial buttons.

“Odinsons Attorneys at Law,” a soft voice answered.

“This is Clint Barton. I need to speak to one of the brothers, please.”

“Of course, sir.”

Soft music played as he placed was on hold. Thor and Loki Odinson had taken over the firm built by their father decades ago. Their sister Hela was the third partner but her specialty was criminal law so Clint had rarely interacted with her. The brothers, however, handled all his personal issues and headed the legal team if his company was ever taken to court. Hawkeye International had inhouse attorneys though they mainly read forms and wrote press releases.

“Clint, what can I do for you?” The smooth voice of Loki came over the phone.

“I’m going to need another copy of the usual contract. I’ll send you the pertinent details.”

“Finished with Sharon already?”  The brothers weren’t only his attorneys, they were his friends.

“She was a bit much.”

Loki hummed in what Clint assumed was agreement. “And the rest?” the attorney asked.

Clint pursed his lips in thought. The usual package wasn’t quite right for you. “Get her a card, of course. No limits. Sell the current apartment. I’ll need a new one near the art institute. I’ll send what I’m looking for in the email.”

There was a stretch of silence. “Are you certain it’s wise to give her free reign on your account?”

“Believe it or not, I actually found one I trust.”

“And the apartment? You’ve had it for years. Do you really want to sell it? Perhaps we should hold onto it. We can always obtain the new one for you as well. Rent this one out perhaps in the meantime.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate that apartment, Loki. Just sell it and whatever is left there. I’ll send you that email. Let me know what you find ASAP, please.”

He hung up without waiting for a response. His eyes found the door again as he thought of you and that kiss. That was a hell of a kiss. And you’d initiated it. He’d wondered for a long time what your lips would feel like on his and he sure as hell wasn’t disappointed. Even now, he wanted more.

This was either going to be the best idea he’d ever had or the worst.

[ohgoddard]

Fist of Fire.2.17

The hot arid air of the Mojave Desert bore itself in the lungs of two men standing outside Clint’s Bar. It was an average biker joint, looking like a saloon of old stuck on the side of a highway going to a much more desirable place. The two men, some run of the mill looking bikers surveyed the horizon of the cracked and dried rock and piles of sand and saw nothing. The most activity they saw was a tumbleweed roll gently by them, carried by a wind that only brought more heat with it. Although the parking lot outside Clint’s was full, there were no noises coming from within the bar, but to these men that was normal. One of them took out a cigarette and lit it with his hands, coughing as the smoke filled his lungs. He then got a message on his phone, and looked. In almost synchronous nature, both men walked into the doors of  Clint’s Bar and locked them in their wake. 

All of this was seen and heard by a woman miles away, lying prone. She covered herself in dirt and desert weeds and held in her hands a pair of binoculars. Her blonde hair,colored to match the desert soil, was tied behind her in a practical braid. Her face, a light tan covered in more soil, was tucked under a hat with a shrub placed over it. For all intents and purposes this woman was hidden to any who looked in this direction, or even looked closely. She slowly shimmied herself back from the edge and took cover behind the backside of the hill she was spying over. Her hand reaches for a notepad on her belt, and she scribbles into it. After putting it away, she takes out a device. It has just one button on it, and begins tapping it in a series of dots and dashes. After this, she packs up, and begins hiking into the desert.

In the city of Cincinnati, there was a bank robbery going on. Terrified people ducked under cover as four giants ran down the street, chased by police cars. The crowded city streets were full of chaos, as these four giants were destroying parts of whole buildings and crushing cars. In the hands of each they carried bank vaults, the entire thing. They laughed uncontrollably, as when the police fired from their weapons they did nothing to pierce the skin of the giants. One of them, the presumed leader of the pack, turned towards another and yelled, “We’re gonna get away with this! No one can stop us!” Then, as his head was turned, a firetruck flew into his head. The giant did a full backflip then hit the road like a sack of bricks. The vault falling with a loud thud, and property damage, besides him. The other giants stop and look at their fallen leader with an expression of shock overtaking them, that is until one of horror comes. In front of them, floating several feet in the air to reach their eye level, was a muscular man dressed in blue jeans, a shirt that had a greek letter familiar to all, and a helmet that covered his head in its entirety. The helmet looked like that of a Trojan Warrior, with long accented faceplates and a netting underneath it to hide his facial features. The man had his arms crossed above his chest, and a booming voice came from his mask that was heard for blocks around.

“I don’t know how you thought no one could stop you. Don’t you read the news?”

At that the man moves at sonic speeds and spearheads another giant in the stomach, sending it flying back several blocks and into a large stone building, now unconscious. The other two giants drop their vaults and run, trying to flee, but are stopped when a dash of black and blue wake circles around their legs and they fall. Their heavy bodies hit the ground and, before a heavy punch is delivered to their heads, they see electrical lines had been wrapped around their legs.

Standing victorious over the giants bodies, crowds begin to cheer as they send accolades to the hero. Reporters run up to him, microphones ready and cameras rolling. “How did you know they were going to be here?””Is there anyway you could have caused less destruction?””Do you have any words for the people at home?””Will you attend the Colored Heroes Rights conference in July, as the most famous hero of color?” The man just stood there and said various nothings into the cameras, his voice quieter than when addressing the giants. “Damages are expected, I was just in the neighborhood, and of course I'm showing up to that! I’d be dumb not to.” He steps away from the crowds and picks up the giants by the wires holding them, rising into the air. “And for the people at home,’ he says turning his head towards the camera once more,”Stop committing crimes. I want to go home one day!” With that he became a blur and the giants were gone from the city.

A couple hours later, after the giants were delivered to the Ohio Powered Incarceration Center and the vaults given back to their banks, the man found himself sitting alone under a shady tree in the countryside. After looking around with a vision that extended for miles, he takes off his helmet. A short cut but neatly trimmed black beard and bald head greet the cool air with gratitude as he takes a deep breath. “Another day, another lock up.” He reaches into his back pocket and takes out his phone, and starts to go through his missed emails and whatnot, when he notices a notification from an app he usually never checks. Which meant…

He opens it up and examines the contents. They read: TRACKED-ETEAM-2-NV-STOP. ETEAM-IS-ALIVE-STOP. MORE-INFO-LTR-STOP. HEG.

He lowers his phone and sighs a breath of stress and anger. “You damned cockroach.” He stands up and grabs his helmet, and angrily puts it on. “No one does all this and keeps living.”

He then gets a call on his phone and answers. “Omegaman,” the voice says over the phone,”You’re needed in Detroit, danger rating 78%. Gravity monster.” Omegaman sighs and replies. “On my way.”  As he lowers his phone from his head, he looks to the skies.”I’ll get to you later, Emesh.” With that, he soars into the clouds.

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

“Oh my God mom, it's not that big a deal!” Jade sat in her living room while her mom played with her hair and sprayed something here, pinned something there, readjusted this and so on. “It is so! This is your first date in..” Jade’s mom paused, holding a can of hairspray away from her daughter. “Well, ever!” She resumed her pampering ,with Jade spitting as the spray got into her mouth. She was dressed in a white and red dress, and it was a stunning one. It had an open back and the red spiraled up the whole body while the white sparkled in the light. 

“It's just a dance, mom. It's nothing big!” As Jade spoke this, Joseph rolled himself in from the spare room he was staying in, a large purse laying across his lap. “Au contraire, Jade. This is the AHA’s summer gala. It happens once a year and you have never  gone to one and with your senior year coming up it will be your last one as well! You must go. And, you even got a date so that makes it all the better!” He places the purse at the side of the chair Jade is being forcibly fancied up in and retreats a safe distance from the cloud of product in the air. “Oh come on not you too!” Jade screams in mock pain as eyeliner is drawn over her face. “I don’t like makeup and -ack- Riley and I aren’t, like, official yet or anything so -” the spraying stops. Jade looks around and sees the very confused faces of the two adults. Joseph’s is far more confused that her mother’s, who is more disappointed than anything.

“Really? You guys haven't officially asked each other out yet?” Joseph was the first to speak, and it was filled with incredulous emotion. The fact that he was out and about as he was in the first place is a miracle, as his doctor had prescribed him several more days of bedrest(“I'm always sitting down, that counts, right?”). His voice has improved, and is sounding much like his old one.  It was because of this that Jade was the most taken back by his comment. “Why do you care so much? Isn’t shipping your students against the law or something?” Joseph gave a look of fake shock. “How could you! And no, it isn’t.” Jade’s mom speaks to her next, “Why haven’t you asked her yet, sweetheart?” Jade blushed and looked away from her mom, who began to apply more of the makeup she was carrying. “I dunno..just kind of hasn’t come up. There has been a bit that’s been going on.” Joseph coughed. “Oops.” Jade shot him a dirty look and he looked away, pulling at his collar in a joking fashion. “I’ll..I’ll ask her tonight. She said she’d meet me there anyways.” Her mom beamed when she heard this. “You know Jade, not too long ago you were a hot headed troublemaker who always got into the trouble,” Joseph interrupted with a “still is” and suffered a hit from Mrs.Laurens, “but this Riley girl has really done a lot of good for you. The least you can do is properly ask her out.”

Jade took a deep breath, “Yeah, you're right mom. That reminds me, “ she looks towards the clock on her mom’s oven. “It's almost time for me to go. Who’s gonna take me to the school.”

Joseph rolls over to the door, “I will. My car is outside.” Jade begins to get up, grabbing her bags, before stopping. “Wait a second.” Joseph gives great bellowing laughs, holding onto his wheelchair for support. Jade gives a harumph, obviously not happy to be the butt of the joke.

“Oh Jade, don't be like that,” her mom said, stifling a laugh herself,”he will actually be taking you there though.”

Jade looked at her mom, her turn to give an incredulous look. “How?” Joseph smacked his wheelchair. “We’re gonna take the train. Remember, the school has a lien that goes straight to it.”

Joseph opens the door and rolls out, looking back. “Coming?” Jade could not believe this was happening.

A few dozen minutes and a train ride later where everyone looked at Joseph more than her(which brought a great deal of relief, but a twinge of jealousy too) they arrived at the school station. Joseph got off, gave the finger to multiple people who asked about his accident, and Jade soon followed. “The nerve of some people,” she heard him mutter under his breath. He turned to Jade. “Now, go over what we talked about on the train.” Jade rolled her eyes. “Walk up to her, hand on her shoulder, ask her in my ‘manliest voice’ to go out with me. I just don’t think-” Joseph shhsh her. “Don’t think. It only makes things worse.” She gives a laugh, a nervous one, but still a laugh. A small smile appears on her face. “Thank you, Mr.Ellington.” She leans in and gives him a hug. “Now,” Joseph says after the hug is done, “I have to go to the teachers area to get ready for my round of chaperoning. I’ll see you in a bit. After the dance, wait for me here. I don’t want you walking the streets without me.” “I’ve done it tons of times what-” “Just wait for me. You’re a pretty teenage girl walking alone in a shit part of town. Different creatures come out at night.” She rolls her eyes. “Ok, whatever dad.” Joseph smiles and rolls off. “Have a good dance!”

A few seconds after he enters an elevator to take him to the school, Jade realizes what she said.Dad? She would have to think more about that later..some conflicting feelings have been affecting her recently. Thankfully, a good distraction just came off the next train.

“Well, hell-o beautiful.” Jade turned to see Riley step off in a spiff tuxedo, one that hugged her body. It's just about made Jade faint then and there. “Hh-hey! You ready?” Jade nervously stammered out. Riley walked up, took Jade’s hand, and kissed it like a prince. “With you? Always.” Jade’s plans went out the window.

[whitewitchdani]

Infinitely Different: Chapter 23

Read Chapter 22 Here

Word Count: 1,222

Pairing: Winchester!Sister x ???

Warnings: fluff

A/N: Happy Friday y’all! Here’s chapter 23. Let me know what you think and if you’d like to be tagged!

Infinitely Different Masterlist

It was the night of the party and it was all you could do not to hop in your car and drive the 1,000 or so miles it would take to get your happy ass back to the bunker. Hell, you would run at this point, anything to not have to go to this party. You sighed, Caroline put a lot of effort into this party and it was technically for you. Not showing up would crush her.

Speaking of the devil, the blonde vampire bust through your bedroom door with Elena and Bonnie in tow. They were laughing as they entered with copious amounts of dresses and shoes in each arm.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” They yelled in unison.

“Awe thanks you guys.” All at once they slammed into you in one giant group hug.

They dumped all of their things on the bed and each started getting ready as you just stared at your closet. As a hunter, you were utterly unprepared for this situation.

“Any chance I can wear combat boots and a flannel to this party?” You asked Caroline with a hopeful smile.

“No way! Come on, Y/N. It’s your birthday. Take the time to actually look like you wanna be there.”

“But I don’t have-”

“You think we brought all of this stuff for us?” Elena laughed, “We knew you probably didn’t have anything so we brought a little of everything for you to try.”  

Although you were somewhat dreading wearing a dress, you were excited your friends cared enough to do all of that for you. They brought dresses and shoes and makeup, all in an attempt to make this night amazing, to make YOU look amazing. You felt like an ass for dreading the party the whole time it was being planned, your friends only wanted you to have a good birthday.

You smiled, “Alright, make me beautiful girls.”

“Wow.”

“Y/N, you look...” Bonnie was speechless.

“Elena that dress is amazing and fits her perfectly! And the shoes! UGH. You look beautiful Y/N! You should lay off hunting and dress up more often.”

“Am I allowed to look at myself now?” you laughed as Caroline and Elena led you to the full size mirror in your room and you gasped as you saw your reflection. You didn’t recognize the woman you saw before you.

She was clad in wine, the dress hitting her perfectly at mid thigh. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and fit well on top, flaring out at the bottom. A beautiful black, heeled sandal graced her feet. The girls had done her makeup and curled her hair. The person in the mirror looked nothing like Y/N Winchester.

“Wow.”

“Elena already said that, but I’m glad you like it! Every boy in that room won’t know what hit him.” Caroline smiled as she stepped into her heels, “Alright girls! Time to make our entrance.”

You all laughed in unison as you headed downstairs. Bonnie and Elena basically ran, leaving you and Caroline to pull up the rear. As you walked down the stairs behind her you turned to face the main floor only to find Damon waiting at the base of the stairs.

His eyes widened as he took you in, “Y/N/N, you look... wow.”

You smiled as you hit the last step, “People keep saying that. I’m glad you like it though, I feel like a fish out of water.”

“Understandable. This is the most dressed up I’ve ever seen you. You look beautiful.” He held out his arm and you took it as he led you to the living room.

“Thanks, Damon.”

As you entered the main room of the house, you gasped. All of the furniture had been removed and the floor was flooded with people, most of whom you didn’t even know. Gold and black balloons littered the floor and graced the wall in each doorway. As you looked toward the dining room, the table was covered in different foods, copious amounts of alcohol, and, of course, a cake wishing you a happy birthday.

Your brothers met you in the hall, not dressed up one bit. They were both wearing flannel, Dean in his leather jacket. When they saw you, both of their jaws dropped.

“Y/N, you look amazing.” Sam hugged you and as you made your way to Dean, he made a face.

“Yeah you look nice and all, but I prefer the traditional Winchester look on you.” Laughing you hugged him as well.

“Thank you guys. And look, you don’t have to stay here. I know this isn’t really your scene.”

“Oh thank god.” Dean hugged you once more and made a beeline for the front door.

“Have fun Y/N/N, just not too much.” Sam smiled as he followed your older brother out the door.

After your brothers had left, Damon noticed the awestruck look on your face and your silence. He followed as you walked to the table and looked at the cake like you had never seen one before which made him wonder, “Haven’t you ever celebrated your birthday before?”

You turned and looked at him thoughtfully, “When my mom was alive I had a couple parties, but I never really had friends so we usually just got ice cream and watched movies just the two of us. The night I turned six is one of my fondest memories of my mom. But all of this, the cake, it’s just so much.”

“You’re telling me in all of your years of life, you never had a birthday cake?” “John couldn’t be bothered to give a damn, and Dean would steal a pie every now and then but, no. This is my first.”

“Y/N...”

You sighed, “Let’s not talk about it. Let’s enjoy the party.” With a smile you ran onto the dance floor and found your friends. You danced and danced like there wasn’t a worry in the world. No monsters, no vampires, no new apocalyptic event hanging over your head. Tonight you were finally able to let go and have fun like you should’ve been doing all your life. You’d have to remind yourself to thank Caroline for this, because being surrounded by your friends having the time of your life made you the happiest you thought you’ve ever been.

After a few dances, you, Damon, Stefan, and Caroline stood in a corner away from everyone nursing your drinks. As you drank, you exchanged stories and laughs as if you had no cares in the world.

“And then, Sam just stops in the middle of the parking lot with this look on his face and when we asked him what was wrong he responded, ‘I lost my shoe.’ It was hilarious, and that my friends is why you don’t mess around with cursed objects.”

You and your friends erupted in a raucous bout of laughter, at your brother’s expense no less. Exchanging stories made you feel so close to your friends, like you had never left. Wishing you had never left.

Suddenly you all stopped laughing and turned your ears to the front door. The footsteps of four people were approaching the house. 

“Who the hell could that be?” Damon asked.

His question was answered when the front door flew open and the four uninvited guests strolled in, causing your face to go completely white.

Read Chapter 24 Here

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[queerchoicesblog]

Family, Somehow (RoD, Mona & Ximena, Friendship)

This is my entry for the amazing #RODAW hosted by my wonderful friends @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicesarehard (among many others!). I decided to write a fanfic about an aspect of the story that is not really shown in the original book.

You know me, I'm all in for female solidarity/sisterhood stories so here you go: a work dedicated to Mona and Ximena friendship! Hope you like it!

Day 7 RoD Appreciation Week

Song Inspiration: Count On Me - Bruno Mars

Word Count: 2300

Perma Tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @melodyofgraves @bhavf @abunchofbadchoices @silverhawkenzie @begging-for-kamilah @kennaxval @strangerofbraidwood @crazypeanat @desiree-0816 @universallypizzataco

Ximena Tag: @boneandfur @bobasheebaby @psychopathdreamer21

_________________________

Mona didn't join the Mercy Park Crew to make friends. It was just a temporary thing and she didn't need anyone, she thought: she wasn't a sentimental weakling, she was strong enough on her own. And she had learned better than to trust people, especially so-called friends and girlfriends.

Ximena never expected to see Kaneko recruit another girl in the gang. He did in the past and it didn't go well so she ended up being the only female member of the crew for years. It was fine, she was used to be around boys: most of her siblings were brothers. Yet sometimes she missed the female comradery she couldn't have with Logan or the nerdy goofball Toby.

That's why she rejoiced seeing Kaneko walking into the garage one day with a mysterious girl in a leather jacket in tow.

A mysterious new girl who tensed up in a defensive stance when X. towered over her from her height. Mona rolled her eyes ready for a petty catfight to show the "rival" that she wasn't interested in putting on a fight for bullshit like that when...her feet left the floor.

"What the fuck is-"

The giant had lifted her from the ground in a bone-crushing hug. Mona tried to free herself but the other girl was strong, she gave her that.

"Hey you, put me down now!" she protested, hating to feel at disadvantage.

"Hulk", as she identified her at a first glance, laughed and did her she said. Back to the ground, Mona resisted the urge to rub her own elbows and crossed her arms.

"What the fuck was that?"

A genuine smile appeared on X.'s lips as she shrugged and mimed her stance.

"Just giving you a proper welcome in our humble abode, sis. That's how I do it. Oh, I'm Ximena, by the way, what's your name, tough girl?"

Mona gave her a perplexed look and told her name before walking past her groaning. What's next? We braid each other hair and made friendship bracelets? Wonderful.

Later she missed those hugs. Or X. saving the last breakfast burrito for her no matter how cold she was because "sisters before misters", she would say winking before going back to her previous chore. Or bantering with the guys. Against all odds, Mona had to admit to herself that...it was fun to see. That X. was hilarious and definitely knew how to pull the best pranks.

And how to play pool, even if the Lebanese girl played in another league. They won all the matches and rematches when Toby and Logan challenged them one night when work was lazy. Later when the boys were drunkenly arguing with each other trying to prove who was the weak link, the girls chatted and Mona found out that X. had been a tattoo-artist and still tattooed every now and then.

"See Toby? Those tats are my doing" she explained pointing at Toby, who was now gesticulating and shouting buzzed nonsenses to an equally buzzed Logan.

What Ximena didn't expect was to hear the new icy girl asking her to tat her too.

"I have a couple of ideas for new tats and you seem pretty badass at it. I pay, obviously. How much?" she said, drowning her glass of vodka.

Ximena blinked.

"Nothing? We're pals?"

"Pals?" the Lebanese girl repeated, furrowing her brows as if X. suddenly switched to a foreign language she had never heard of.

"Well, crewmates? On the same side?"

"So what?"

Two black eyes met hers. The new girl was pretty tough to crack and slow to get it so X. chuckled and circled her arm around Mona's shoulder.

"So you buy breakfast, I tat you and that's all. Huh huh, don't make me give you my infamous side looks, honey. You don't wanna mess with me"

And so she did. Mona bought donuts and milkshakes and X. tattooed her left arm. Then her hip and her back. As the Lebanese girl was forced not to move and sit there with her for a while, Ximena learned that she was secretive about her past, but also rather talkative at times and observant as well. She knew a lot of things about cars and seemed genuinely curious to know why X. chose to go hybrid with her SUV. And listened carefully when she explained that you can hit the road and respect environment at the same time. Her younger sister talked her into watching that program by a girl called Emerald or something like that and it was eye-opening. So she decided to buy a green car, even if it earned her a few skeptical looks from the boss at first.

She had stopped to check the result of her work when Mona turned her head slightly and commented:

"You know, I was surprised too, not gonna lie...but it shows you care. You care for something more than this underground life. It's refreshing to see and I respect you for that"

Mona slowly started to be less grumpy with Ximena, provoking a new wave of teasing from the guys. But there were no romantic feelings involved, luckily: Mona wasn't looking for that and X. too probably. They were too busy or hurt, they just surprisingly enjoyed each other company. And they had each other back. It took a lot to Mona to allow anyone else helping her patching her wounds after a fight. She hated the whole getting medications and feeling like crap for days when some rival scumbag sent you flying or was quicker than you and gave you a harsher taste of your own medicine. She hated feeling the helpless girl she once was -or so she thought- but X. wouldn't accept no as an answer. And there was no judgment or disappointment in her tired eyes when she stood beside the couch where Mona crawled to with bandages and painkillers.

So, after protesting in vain, Mona let the kind female "Hulk" taking care of her. She secretly envied and admired at the same time Ximena: she looked invincible. Balanced, the "momma of the gang" checking on everyone and brightening the mood whenever things got rough. She worked hard and was one of the most skilled drivers the Lebanese girl had ever met. She looked like nothing could grind her down: always a smile for everyone, even if just a tired one or a kind word as if the criminal world she lived in hadn't hardened her as it usually happens. What was her secret?, she wondered.

She was lost in such thoughts as one day she walked to the garage with a stack of beers under her arm. She noticed Ximena's silhouette from afar and waved at her with her free hand but she didn't see her. The young woman was sitting on the sidewalk's edge and was talking to the phone or so it seemed. Mona made a mental note to tease her about that later but as soon as she moved closer she realized that...X. was crying? She froze for a moment, unsure of what to do then unceremoniously rushing to the kitchen and placing the beer right into a half-asleep Logan's arms and speeding back to sit beside Ximena.

Recalling what her friend would do if she was in her place, she tentatively snaked an arm around X.' broad muscled and now unexpectedly shivering shoulder and stayed there in silence. After a moment, X. told her that one of her little brothers didn't come back to school that day, it had been hours and he was still nowhere to be found. The other siblings went searching for him but couldn't find him and it was getting dark...what if someone kidnapped him?

"What if a creep found him? Or if someone found out I work for Kaneko, someone who holds a grudge to him or him and they...they-"

Before she knew it, she helped X. to her feet and lead her to her car, not giving a damn to the boss protests because they were gonna sit down and discuss their next mission. She started the engine and drove the two of them past the gang and the MPC hideout to hit the road at full speed: they had to find that little guy, it was all that mattered now.

And they did it luckily. They found his bike scattered at the side of a street near a park out his usual itinerary. The boy was covered with scratches because he had a pretty bad fall when a car hit him pushing him off the road as he was just following the ice cream truck. "I only wanted ice cream, X., I swear, I didn't mean to be bad" he said between tears. As soon as they spotted him, Ximena jumped off the car and ran to him to pull him into her strong arms, sobbing and peppering his head with kisses. Mona's heart tightened a little as she watched the scene from her car: X. checking any sign of bad wounds and then cradling Xavier into one of her hugs as she whispered Spanish words into his ear. Her Spanish was bad but she made out something that sounded like "I'll get you the biggest ice cream, sweetheart, I promise". So, barely recognizing herself, she cleared her voice and said:

"Hey, I...I think I saw the truck on our way here. Like one block away. We can still get one if you're okay...kiddo?"

The little guy looked at her and flashed a shy smile before cautiously freeing from X.'s arms to show that he could stand despite the scratches. He turned to X. silently asking for permission then when she nodded he smiled a bit brighter and went gathering his backpack. Mona moved to collect the broken bike, considering they could fix it at the garage...and when her eyes finally met her friend's again, there were still tears in her eyes as she mouthed "thank you".

As the three of them were sitting on another sidewalk edge later, X. called her siblings to reassure them as she made funny faces to Xavier who was covering his nose with the extra whipped cream he excitedly asked for. The Lebanese girl found herself thinking that the little guy was lucky to have a sister like Ximena. All of her siblings were and she hoped they knew it. A melancholic smile crossed her face as she added: wish I had a sister like her too. God knows, maybe my life would have been completely different.

Mona never expected to care so much. Ximena didn't think she would find a good friend in the Lebanese girl.

Years later, when the man who made them meet was dead and the crew they both worked in dismantled, the two young women sat side by side in the front seats of Ximena's SUV outside the penitentiary where Mona was sent after The Brotherhood arrests. When she got the news of her former colleague's release, X. knew what to do: she took a day off her new tattoo-artist job and called Toby, Logan and Colt to set a surprise welcome home party. Then, when the time came, she hopped on her car and drove all the way to the jail building. By the look on her face when she spotted her, her friend was relieved to see her but also shocked, suspicious maybe. As if the time spent in jail made her go back to her hardened tough self she met once.

Before she started the engine to drive the two of them back home, Mona stopped her and asked, her voice unusually tense, uncertain:

"We clearly said no contact, no meetings after the gang dissolved. Yet you came visiting, you're here picking me up today...why are you doing this, X.?"

Ximena sighed and shrugged.

"Because you're...family, somehow, M.. And that's what a family does, I guess"

Mona was taken aback by that answer, even though deep down she knew X. was saying the truth. It was just...oddly sentimental to hear it out loud. From X., who always did everything she could to make her own troubled family stick together against all odds. From anyone to her, Mona. A girl who made a stubborn oath to herself not to rely on anyone else but herself because people, ties...they always find a way to hurt you. A girl who left her family behind to start a new dangerous life in underground crime. A girl who...was no longer an orphan on the run?

That last thought spread a familiar yet almost forgotten warmth inside Mona's chest as if someone rescued in the middle of a storm and laid down a cover over the shivering shoulders. She would probably have to keep running again -it was in her own blood, maybe- but right now, she could stop and cuddle up in that cover that had the shape of X's ever reassuring smile.

Mona mirrored it and nodded.

"Somehow" she repeated, slowly as if to make the feeling linger and adjust to it.

Then she grinned widely and changed the topic: the heart-to-heart moment lasted lone enough for her taste and started making her uncomfortable. Better to go back to good old comradery.

"You know what, X.? I would kill for a bowl of those greasy chicken wings we used to get. With extra BBQ sauce-"

"...and chili and that middle eastern sauce with an impossible name because 'why settle with just one when you can get the full package'."

Mona gaped at her friend who interrupted her quoting her own words. X. was pretty amused by that reaction because she laughed and winked at her, finally starting the engine.

"Fasten your seatbelt, girl. You're lucky good ol' X. got your back"