#me try not to over tag and over explain everything challenge (impossible)

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type au part 3!

part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7

Their first official meeting face to… well, almost face. Soap’s doing his best.

[Disclaimer: I have been fiddling with this for ages, and just like everything else i’ve written, i’m not quite happy with it but i’m done looking at it. sorry if it’s awful lmao. also it’s around 5 goddamn thousand words]

Another battle won, another victory to add to the general’s reputation, and another fight that left Ghost feeling empty.

Part of him hated that he had become a disciple for the god of death. It was hard not to notice the changes that started after he first left an offering for the god. The way he felt a little less alone, the way enemy arrows would occasionally miss their target, the way the aches of battle faded much sooner, the way the world seemed a bit brighter. The way it gave him hope.

Hope was a dangerous thing. It tricked him into thinking he was meant for more than just dying on the battlefield. Made him believe that he could have a happy ending.

In reality however, Ghost would live and die a prisoner, having forgotten the taste of freedom. The world was not bright. It was cruel. If there were any good in the world, the other side would have won. Would have slaughtered them like pigs.

Instead, they lived to fight another day. Once the wounded were stable, they moved on. Found a spot to camp on a riverbank. As always, Ghost ran off. Let himself indulge in the falsity of hope.

By now, everyone in the camp was used to his routine. The only one brave enough to confront him was the general and so long as he returned to be his rabid dog whenever he needed, he learned not to care.

So, he left. Continued his search for more temples that once housed devout believers of the god of death. He appreciated the distraction from the real world, a short respite found in half-mindless wandering through abandoned cities or overgrown forests.

Ghost still knew very little about the god. While he knew the story of why the god had been forgotten, he still knew next to nothing about who the god was. They didn’t seem too bad at least; Ghost was still alive and has yet to be punished to an eternity of suffering.

He knew if he tried asking the god, (if he received an answer at all) it would all be what he wanted to hear and not the truth. So, he searched.

Most temples were too dilapidated to glean any information, but the little he had gathered seemed to point in a mostly positive direction. But he still needed to know more. He didn’t even know the god’s name for fuck’s sake.

Wandering through the forest, he wasn’t too worried about getting lost. It wasn’t so dense that shadows swallowed it whole and he could always follow the river to find his way back out.

Over the months spent on this routine, he’d learned a lot about how to find the temples, especially in forests like this one. It was rather simple: find a trail of slightly younger trees and follow them.

The much bigger, much older trees would outline a path that had long been lost to time. While hundreds upon hundreds of years have passed since the god was praised, the evidence was still dug into the earth.

Sure enough, after an hour or two of following a line of newer trees, he found a temple. It was the most intact one he’d found yet, all four walls still up, even if they looked ready to cave in at any moment. The only structural integrity was likely from the amount of vines slithering in through the cracks, acting as rope to hold together a building that wanted nothing more than to collapse.

The inside was surprisingly well lit. The holes in the roof that had been filled with various plants let in a soft green light. In the middle, extending from the back wall was a pedestal atop which sat crumbled rocks. As he guessed, taking a closer look proved it to have once been a statue that had either fallen prey to the passage of time or the anger of the locals.

Turning his attention to the walls, on his right was another doorway that would have led to a balcony overlooking the surroundings. Now, however, it was a simple curtain of vines leading to a pile of rubble falling down the hill. On his left was a wall of vines that was so thick, he wasn’t even sure if the wall was still there. But just peeking out towards the bottom looked to be the bottom edge of something that had been carved into the rock.

Curiosity piqued, he walked over and tugged at the ivy. Most didn’t even budge, but he was able to move enough to see that it was likely a mural of some sort. He hoped it was, at least. He was desperate for any information on who or what he’s been helping.

Pulling at the vines only resulted in his hands becoming covered in ants that had been hiding and he had a vague thought about setting fire to it, but there’s no way it would catch and if by some miracle it did, it would likely cause a forest fire. No other option readily available, he sighed and drew his knife, beginning the long and arduous process of hacking through each individual branch.

There was no easy way to do it. They clung to the wall so tightly that to try and slash them would just scrape the edge of his knife on the stone and ruin the edge. The brambles on them made him very grateful for his gloves saving him from turning his fingers into mincemeat. He worked carefully, pulling far enough to get his knife under the stems and cutting through them one by one.

It took hours of meticulous removal and a smarter man would have stopped a long time ago. But Ghost was determined now, he started the process and he couldn’t leave until it was finished.

He didn’t pay too much attention to the actual mural as he worked his way through them, waiting until he could see the full thing. At some point, he had to stop to light a small torch. Darkness having begun to set in, he didn’t notice he had cleared most of it until he took a step back.

As he suspected, it was a mural of the god, depicting some of his godly deeds. The original carving was already rather simplistic and the aging didn't help in deciphering what story it was telling. He was worried that in brushing off the dirt, the carvings would come with it, so instead he brought his torch closer and tried to figure out what he was looking at.

It seemed to be a set of stories, all of which featured the god as kind, helping people who were suffering. The first carving was of an old man on his deathbed, the god putting his hand over his eyes. The next was of parents watching as the god kissed their newborn on the forehead. The third grabbed his attention.

It was a soldier with a knife in his chest, the god holding his hand.

Months ago, Ghost had been in that exact situation. Dying was certain, and yet instead of doing whatever it is the god of death does when someone is dying, the god saved him. Healed a fatal wound with a golden scar. (And put a flower behind his ear, but he often elected not to think about that when remembering the event.)

All of the carvings were different tellings of the same story. For months he had been asking the same question with no answer: Why was Ghost’s story different?

Ghost shook his head. As always when trying to think about the why of it all, he concluded to not think about it. To just push it aside and ignore it. Whatever snake was hiding in the grass waiting to strike was too hidden for Ghost to see. Until the day comes that he gets bit, he will forget about it.

Pulling himself away from the third image, he turned back to the statue. The mural didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know and hoped the collapsed statue would hold some answers.

Sure enough, it was still just as collapsed as before. There were marks in the rocks that proved it wasn’t the passage of time that felled it, but the anger of a mob.

Now looking at the pedestal with the torch, he saw the shadow of inscriptions on a plaque near the bottom. Kneeling down to get a better visual, he saw that it was four words written in an ancient language.

ᓭ𝙹ᔑ!¡, ˧𝙹⟍̅ 𝙹⎓ ⟍̅ᒷᔑℸ ̣⍑.

He remembered little of the translation, recognizing the third word was “of,” and after scraping through his memory, he was pretty sure the second word was “god.” Either that or fish. His memory is not that great.

____, GOD OF _____.

Well, it didn’t take a genius to deduce what the rest of it said. While he was iffy on the translations, he knew the phonetics well. Excited to possibly have the god's name in front of him, Ghost made a mistake.

Which, he would like to clarify, he knows that he’s an idiot. Stupid, dumb, anything and everything between. Obviously, common sense dictates that when you find strange writing anywhere, but especially in an ancient temple, you DO NOT READ IT OUT LOUD.

However, as previously stated, stupid dumb idiot and all that. In his defense, he wasn’t fully aware he was doing it. It had been a while since reading the dead language and the old carving made it hard to decipher the glyphs.

So, not thinking, he sounded them out. Out loud. Reading a random sentence in an abandoned temple of the god of death, who was abandoned after claims of being a monster. It was not Ghost’s proudest moment.

But, he did manage to read it, saying to an empty temple, “Sau— No… Soap, God of… Death?”

He didn’t know if he read it properly. When he had learned the script, it had been taught with handwritten letters. How they looked on a pen and paper was very different to how they looked carved into stone. He decided to risk delicately brushing away some of the dirt, following the indentation of the letters.

He was still trying to read the plaque when he became aware of someone behind him.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he carefully maintained his position, not giving away that he had noticed the person. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he could see their shadow behind him and to the right.

Forcefully maintaining his casualness, he dropped his hand from the plaque and rested it on the ground as if he were just balancing himself. The other went to nonchalantly rest on the buttcap of his sword, holding it like it was happenstance for that to be the more comfortable position. He waited.

They did nothing. They did not move, didn’t take advantage of his weakness, he couldn’t even hear them breathing.

He had a sinking feeling that he already knew what was behind him. And if he was right, his sword would not save him.

Steeling himself, he stood and turned, drawing his sword. At first glance, they were not a soldier, thief, or mercenary. They drew no weapon and barely even reacted to his sudden advance.

It wasn’t human either. It… It “smiled” at him. Every fiber of Ghost’s being was telling him to run, run far away from this thing before it mauled him.

He stood still. No one can outrun Death.

His vision blurred but only when trying to look directly at the god. He was almost… translucent. When he risked a glance to the door, his image began to vibrate, like he didn’t need to hold himself together anymore.

Later, trying to recall any specific features would draw a blank. Eyes, hair, height — anything. He would question if the god had any physical form at all or if he just imagined it.

He needed to get out of there.

It seemed the god was examining him just as closely. Ghost tried to slowly back away, to inch closer to the door, but was stopped by the god circling him. Not having a secure exit made his skin crawl and he was sure to keep the being in his sights the entire time.

In the same way his eyes were warring over whether the god was there or not, he didn’t know how nervous he needed to be. The months spent offering whatever he had in exchange for company and help on the battlefield made him want to relax, to talk to him like he was an old friend.

The lifetime he spent being betrayed and getting used made him want to attack first. The back of his neck prickled at the reminder that he still owed the thing his life. He was not an old friend. He was a deity, the god of death, and would be able to kill him with ease. Ghost kept his sword level with the god despite being all too familiar with its futility.

The god, Soap, stopped his circling and stood in front of him, far too close for comfort. When Ghost backed away, he watched like he was observing a bug he found interesting.

The comparison was far more apt than Ghost wanted to think about.

“Your fellow soldiers call you Ghost, yes?”

It was the first time actually hearing the god speak and it was just as unsettling as he thought it would be. The voice reflected his flickering form, oddly deep and reverberating like it wasn’t meant for this plane.

Subconsciously, his sword slowly drifted down, no longer threatening an attack.

“…Yeah. How do you know that?” He didn’t bother trying to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice.

“I’ve been watching.”

Ghost didn’t like this. Not at all. Everything in his bones was screaming at him to get the fuck out of there. He readjusted his grip on the sword but forgot to raise it. He needs to get out. Now.

The god laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the first follower I have had in an age. What else was I supposed to do?”

Part of what made his voice sound off finally hit Ghost.

“The god of death is Scottish?” The incredulous tone probably wasn’t doing his life expectancy any favors.

“Aye. And you’re British.”

The god turned and began inspecting the rest of the temple. Ghost didn’t feel the true weight of the god’s stare until it was gone, now taking in several deep breaths as the pressure went away.

“Thanks, I didn’t notice.”

“I thought we were pointing out the obvious.”

The god smiled at him like it was a simple joke. But the annoyance was there. Even if the god was laughing now, that doesn’t mean he would still find Ghost’s disrespect funny in a few minutes. He needs to watch himself and be careful.

“Why do you look all… weird and shit?” Good job, Ghost. Real good about being careful and making sure to overthink his wording. Fucking hell, his own idiocy is going to kill him.

The god pouted his lip. Looking at Ghost with deceptively sad eyes, he asked, “Aw, are you calling me ugly?”

The god returned to examining the ruined temple. Even though he wasn’t looking, Ghost shook his head and raised his hand in a pause gesture. Gods have wiped out entire villages over less. He forced his breathing to remain normal, having to manually count it so as to not panic. Before he could backtrack and likely dig himself in a deeper hole, the god spoke.

“I am still weak. This is the first time I’ve managed to hold onto a tangible form.” Tangible was certainly one way to put it. When he ran his fingers over the ledges on the wall, the dirt and debris didn’t move. Brushing his hands through the vines led to them swaying slightly as if there were a breeze.

Ghost reminded him, “I tried giving you food. You didn’t accept it.”

The god laughed, “I know. The starving man giving the god food.” Ghost wasn’t sure if his tone was meant to be insulting or annoyed.

“Yeah?”

Soap sent him a look he couldn’t decipher, explaining, “Gods don’t eat. Not the way you do. Keep your food.” He made pointed eye contact with Ghost and winked as he said, “I prefer flowers and trinkets anyways.” He turned his attention back to the ruined mural. His eyes were wrong.

Ghost fucking hates gods. What the fuck does that mean?

He pointed out, “If you’re weak, don’t you need everything?”

“I am not that weak. Saving you hurt.”

Ghost prickled further at the reminder, taking a step back. Gripping the handle of his sword tighter, he defensively stated, “I don’t need your help.”

The god scoffed and walked towards him. Ghost tried to back up but the god was faster. The divine being put his hand on his ribs, right where the golden scar sat. With a furrowed brow he angrily stated, “This says otherwise.”

Ghost instinctively jerked away from the touch. It was staticky and cold. Wrong. It was somehow worse than human touch. He was tense, looking to see the gods reaction.

This was worse than dealing with an impatient, angry god. Those were predictable. This one has yet to give him any indication of his limits. Ghost didn’t know what would be the tipping point and could only hope that when it hit, the god would be kind enough to kill him quickly.

To his surprise, the god looked sad. His flash of anger gone and now quieter, he continued, “I was barely in time to save you.” If Ghost didn’t know any better, he’d say the god actually gave a damn about him.

But Ghost did know better. He stared at the third image on the mural. He asked the question that had been plaguing him since waking up from a deadly sleep, “You’re the god of death. Why… Why would you have run out of time? Why save me?”

He sighed, “Healing an otherwise healthy person is easy. Resurrection? Not so much. I do not control death the way people seem to think I do,” the god paused and sadly looked to the broken statue, “…or did. I can help people on their path but not change their course.”

The god was slowly walking closer. Ghost didn’t have much more space to back up, almost cornering himself, he had to angle himself more towards the door, following the wall. It allowed the god to get closer, much closer than Ghost would’ve liked, but it also allowed him to have a realistic escape plan.

Not that he’d be able to run from any god for long. The hope of success was a fickle thing.

Unaware or uncaring of his internal plight, the god happily continued explaining, “You were still on the same path, just veering to the left. Bringing someone back is possible, but not always worth it.”

Not yet learning his lesson about letting sleeping dogs lie, he poked back, “What? ‘They come back different?’”

The god gave a slight nod, “Sometimes, if their soul has been rotted or corrupted. But I meant the cost. Saving you was easy to do with all that you had given. To bring someone back from the dead… Well, there are some fates crueler than death.”

Ghost's eyes hardened, “I’m aware.” The god looked all sad again but he continued before he could interrupt, “But why did you save me?”

The god paused for a moment before simply stating, “You’re kind.”

Ghost scoffed and incredulously repeated, “I’m kind.” He nodded. Ghost continued, “So, you betrayed your own kingdom, domain, whatever to make sure I didn’t die because ‘I’m kind.’”

Soap smiled and for the first time since trying to touch his scar, reached out to him. “Exactly. I like you. You are kinder than someone in your shoes should be. That’s why I saved you.”

His hand hovered next to Ghost’s left. He was waiting for something. The god was still smiling softly at him.

He wants me to close the distance.

He’d rather the god have just grabbed him. Why was he waiting? Why was a god waiting on a mortal? Gods do not ask. They take. Why was this one any different?

When he was a kid, he’d run around trying to pet any and every dog that would let him. He would approach them slowly, holding out his hand for them to sniff. Some would approach immediately, but most took some time. They were half feral and scared of people, hesitant to even approach him.

At that moment, Ghost felt like a scared feral dog. He felt doomed, like there was no way out alive. He didn’t know if the deity was offering safety and comfort, or a quicker and less painful end. Soap’s hand was still extended, still smiling softly.

When a god asks, if you do not give, they will take. And will take more than they would have if you had handed it over to begin with. It’s best to give in before the consequences become worse.

He moved his hand into the god’s hold. It grinned. He tried not to shake.

The god rubbed his thumb along his hand, fingers trailing after an older wound that was on its way to scarring. The touch became slightly more bearable as he grew more accustomed to the peculiarities of the sensation.

After a pause, Ghost shakily contested, “I am not kind. I have more blood on my hands than everyone in the military camp combined.”

Soap, unperturbed, continued messing with his hand, watching the way his fingers bent and twitched. Not looking up, “I said kind, not a pacifist.”

Ghost tried to speak up. The god interrupted. The touch graduated into practically feeling each individual muscle in his arm, like he was trying to remember how a human body is supposed to look.

“However, if you want a more tangible reason, I did, and somewhat still do, owe you.”

Ghost didn't buy it for a second. "What? A god owing a mortal?"

Soap made eye contact once more. Ghost didn’t realize how close he had gotten. The god looked more human, but more wispy as well. His eyes didn’t make Ghost want to turn away before he turned to flame, but he could also see more of the temple through him. Perhaps their meeting would not last much longer.

“I’m sure you are aware that gods can die. the only reason I was still alive was because people would pass the ruins of my temples and remember me.”

He shifted to Ghost’s right and reached for his other arm. Doing the same hovering hesitation, Ghost simply nodded in approval. The god turned his focus to his right hand now, letting go of the left. He did the same examination as before, feeling over his knuckles and trailing what veins he could see up his arm.

…When had Ghost sheathed his sword?

His left arm tingled. He had to tell himself that he did not miss the touch.

“But no one believed in me. I was waiting for another thousand years when I’d be forgotten and could finally die. You not only saved me, but you gave me hope as well.” He accentuated the word by squeezing his arm, or trying to at least. He seemed to be fading fast.

With something in his eyes more earnest than Ghost was used to seeing on even a mortal, the god said, “So yes, I still very much owe you.”

The earnestness was gone and in its place, a joking tone as he continued, “Though, if it’s you I am indebted to, I don’t think that’s too bad of a fate.”

Ghost asked, “So… I don’t owe you a debt?”

Soap looked genuinely confused, “Why would you owe me?” With the way he tilted his head, he almost looked like a confused puppy.

Ghost was at a loss, having no idea how to answer that. The idea that gods just wanted to fuck over everyone they could for their own amusement was so ingrained that to try and put it into words felt impossible.

When he didn’t answer, Soap spoke again, “I like you alive.” His hands moved, one going to feel the pulse point on his wrist and the other sitting over the left side of his chest, feeling his heart. Like he was making sure he was still alive.

The confused furrow did not leave Ghost’s brow at the explanation and he was sure Soap could feel the way his breathing and heart rate kicked up at the touch. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to lean into it and beg him to never let go or skin himself to be rid of the feeling.

“Besides,” Soap said, making eye contact once more. He grinned. It didn’t look human. “I’m not letting you go that easy.”

Ghost ripped himself away, finally in the doorway of the ruined temple. The orange light indicated that dawn was well on its way. He could not hear any birds chirping nor any leaves rustling. It was still smiling from the edge of the shadows.

The god spoke, “I hope we can meet like this again. I had fun.” With that, the divine being stepped forward into the light and fully faded at last.

Ghost took in several deep lungfuls of air. He stood frozen, watching as if waiting to make sure the god did not return. In truth, he was frozen. When it came to fight, flight, or freeze, he thought he had trained himself out of the latter two options.

But he stood there, terrified to move. He didn’t even shift his weight. It felt like to move was to acknowledge what had just happened, and to acknowledge it was to cement it as reality.

A childish part of him hoped he would wake up to find it was all a dream. Forcing himself to turn his back to the door, he ignored the way his back burned at being exposed and unprotected.

He absentmindedly made the long trek down the hill and to the river. He detached his scabbard and kneeled, splashing his face with water, the coolness of it shocking his system.

He turned to the left and vomited. He was shaking so much he almost collapsed. Locking his elbow, he was barely able to balance just to wipe his mouth.

He turned back to the water. Took in a deep breath and submerged his face. He stayed there, pushing the limit of how long he could stay under. His heart was racing, demanding air. He could feel it rattling against his lungs.

Just as the dizziness and weakness began to take hold, he ripped himself up. Taking long, heavy deep breaths, he looked up. Watched as the last of the stars faded into an orange and blue sky.

Stories and warnings from priests came crawling back to him. About what the presence of The Old Gods could do to a mortal. If he was shaking, vomiting, and scared stiff from seeing him while he was still weak…

Good gods, how powerful can this stupid motherfucker get?

He hasn’t felt so… so… so much in a long time. His brain was warring with itself over how he should feel about the interaction. Part of him felt hopeful, thinking that perhaps he might now have someone who actually cares about him and not what he can do for them. Part of him felt so hopeless that he didn’t see the point in getting up, in doing anything other than trying to die before he could cement his fate as a god’s new favorite human plaything.

He blinked and forced his mind to stop. The birds had returned, singing once more. He stood shakily, grabbing his sword and using it to help him up. It sank slightly in the mud.

Day officially broke. In the forest, shadows turned and ran to hide behind the trees. Animals were just starting to wake, some heading to the river to drink.

Ghost stepped into the water, following it downstream and letting the rush of water cover his tracks. The rapids threatened to sweep him away with every step, rocks underfoot falling prey to the force.

By mid morning, the river led him back to the camp.

The other soldiers stopped and stared upon noticing him but did not say a word. In fact, they fell completely silent seeing him wading through water that would drown a lesser man, muddy sheath in hand, soaked to the bone.

He stepped onto the shore, walking at the same slow speed he had in the water. The general, having noticed the sudden silence stepped out of his tent, demanding to know what the problem was. Seeing Ghost, he hesitated before demanding his attention.

Ghost was already on the path towards him. Face to face, the general hesitated, mouth moving but no words spilling forth. Ghost informed him that he was going to go to sleep. The general had yet to find his voice.

Ghost walked to his tent. Dropped his sword. Lied on his cot. He stared at the canvas above him, forgetting to remove his armor and gear.

When he got like this, feeling disconnected from not just his body but his soul as well, he tried to take stock of himself. Mentally document every ache and pain, how his clothes felt, even what the weather was like.

Instead he became aware of one sensation in particular, one clinging to both of his arms, his chest, and a small part of his lower ribs.

Everywhere the god had touched him felt electric.

How long has it been since someone touched me without hurting me?

He wondered why his skin still tingled. Why he missed the feeling.

[polizwrites]

Shooting for the Moon

This is a fill for today's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt [#FFF240 Broken Moonlight] as well as my @thehawkeyesbingo A1 - Werewolf AU square. It's also a POV-swap remix of A Hairy Situation.

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes/ Clint Barton Rating: General Tags:  No Powers AU,  Werewolf AU, werewolf!Bucky,  hookup to dating,  Summary:  Bucky was surprised to find himself in a former hookup’s bed after having wolfed out; but maybe he shouldn’t have been.   Word Count: 811

Bucky ached all over, his head was pounding like crazy and he’d swear his  tongue was covered in fur … unlike the rest of him, which no longer was.  

While none of this was unexpected, waking up in bed - instead of a filthy alley or under a tree in Prospect Park - was very much out of the ordinary.  Even more so the fact that it was someone else’s bed,  and very much still occupied by said someone.  

The last thing Bucky remembered was staring up at the moon, its light broken up by bands of clouds, but its power over him still very much in effect.   He’d been out for vengeance - and from what he could vaguely recall, he’d more than settled that score. 

It still didn’t explain what he was doing here,  in bed next to a man who was not only still breathing; in fact, he was snoring slightly, and smelled vaguely familiar on top of everything.  One more impossible thing to believe before breakfast, Bucky supposed. 

He opened his eyes to see  the back  of a dark, sandy blond head; no help there.   “Huh? Wh’re ‘m I?” Bucky managed to mumble around slightly too-large teeth; apparently spoken words were still a bit of a challenge.  

The man rolled over, stared at him for a shocked moment and blurted out “James?!”      

“Clint?!  Oh my god, did I…?”  Bucky was equally shocked to discover he’d somehow ended up in the apartment of a former hookup.  A hookup that maybe he’d managed to fall a little bit for, too.   He went to sit up and a sharp stabbing pain in his side made him hiss; he pressed his hand to his side to discover  a couple of loops of elastic wrap wrapped loosely around his torso.

Break into my apartment while you were all wolfed out? Yeah. But you obviously didn’t tear me limb from limb, so that’s a win.”   Clint flashed him what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile, but Bucky was still too busy trying to process what had happened. 

He looked down at his side to see a knife wound every bit of five inches long; its inflamed edges proof that silver had been involved, but clearly it had been cleaned and bandaged.  “You let a werewolf into your home,” he asked in disbelief, poking at the elastic wrap, “and then … gave it first aid?”

“You snuck in through the window and scared the hell out of me at first, but then I saw you were hurt.” Clint shrugged. “For what it’s worth, you were a pretty good patient. What do you remember about last night?”

Bucky gave a guarded explanation, finding Clint’s reaction to the mention of Wanda somehow encouraging.  Maybe he had more of a chance with him than he’d thought.  When Clint asked why he’d come here, Bucky danced around the question, focusing on what had happened to his victim. 

But Clint wasn’t that easily put off, and when he asked again why Bucky had come to his apartment after the fight,  he decided honesty was the best policy.  I … uh … guess part of me thought this would be a safe place. That I could … trust you.”

Even though I never heard back from you after our little hookup?”  Clint’s response was a little sharp, and entirely earned. 

“That was kind of shitty of me, wasn’t it?”  Bucky admitted. “But it’s not like I can let anyone get close, not with being what I am.”

When Clint assured him that his secret was safe,  Bucky’s heart skipped a beat; after  thanking him, he nearly kissed Clint, but was afraid of pushing too far, too fast.  Sure, they’d fooled around, but that was a one night stand kind of thing.  What Bucky truly wanted was so much more.  

As if he hadn’t intruded on Clint’s life too much already, Bucky shamefacedly asked if he could borrow something to wear home.  One drawback of being a shifter was the whole clothing - and lack thereof - situation.  

Once he was dressed, Bucky had one more request.  “I hate to ask you for anything else, but I am dying for a cup of coffee.”

“Unfortunately, I’m all out.” Clint replied, “but there’s a pretty good diner about a block away from here. How about we head over there together? My treat.”  

“That kind of sounds like a date.”  Bucky said before he could think better of it. 

“Because it kind of is.”  

Bucky couldn’t leave well enough alone -  he had to know for sure that Clint was on board with everything that he was.  “Even with the whole ‘wolfing out’ thing?”

“Call me crazy,” Clint replied with a grin, “but yeah.”

Bucky couldn’t help but break out into a relieved grin in return. “Huh. In that case, call me Bucky. All my friends do.”

[ach-sss-no]

tags from @cheriboms

thank you! that is very very kind of you ;-;

that is absolutely okay! anyone is welcome to use the design (or part of it) for anything at all if they want to. if anyone's interested, there's a post going over it here that gets into the all the details and reasoning why he's depicted like that (i'm completely in favor of changing things too. part of the reason why i wanted to explain why everything looks how it does is because i thought someone might look at it and go 'interesting thought, but it makes me want to try something different') If anyone does use it I'd appreciate being tagged so I can see what you did, but if you don't feel comfortable tagging me I'm not going to be weird about it or anything. (it would also be entirely possible for someone else to read the same book and come up with the same design to be fair)

"lotr fandom give gollum clothes challenge impossible" Aaa yes that's so weird, ok, the part that's weird for me about that isn't just the fandom necessarily (fandom is just having fun & will follow the vibes, and the most famous visual depictions of the character have him nekkid alas) but the official illustrations and licensed adaptations depicting him as naked after J. R. R. Tolkien said that was incorrect. Unless I missed something, it sure sounded like he saw people drawing gollum without clothing and said 'Actually he had clothing!' and then... ...and then people all just kept not giving him clothing? That is so so weird to me, especially as an artist that does commissions- if I'm showing a commissioner their artwork for approval, and the creator of a character tells me 'well actually that was supposed to look different' that means I need to revise the artwork. I don't know how book illustrations or franchise things work, to be fair, I do not work in that area. It just feels instinctively weird to me to just ignore that the author said about how the character should look for *checks* 70ish years? All of that's not just a cosmetic change either; I feel that Gollum's character & the associated themes comes across differently if he's misconstrued as a mindless animal & not a human-intelligence character with theoretical capacity to make free will decisions and change, and giving him an apparent inability to understand clothing goes in the 'animal' category.

anyway thank you for the lovely compliments here's a brief rant in exchange

[fizzyxcustard]

I Have Time.

Part 1 can be found here

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC TV series)

Pairing: Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pining, smut, insecurity

Summary: From the imagine, “Imagine telling Guy about your 21st century Christmas traditions.” Part 2.

Comments: If you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please let me know. Requested by @sydmarchsstuff

I'm going to sound like a broken record, as usual, but thank you to all of you who regularly engage with my fics. I appreciate it more than you know. :)

The knock at your door had completely broken the spell from around you and Guy. The two of you moved over to your small table, which you noticed that Guy had already set and he began plating the food. 

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you told him. 

Guy merely smirked at you and then pulled your chair out for you. “Would you like your shawl? You’re shaking.” 

As the spell had been broken from around you, you had never even noticed the temperature. Your mind was too pre-occupied with this gorgeous man before you. He aroused you in so many ways, not just physically, but also emotionally. Those icy eyes held so many negative emotions, and whenever in his company, something made you feel sad for him. 

Before you could answer and Guy had got your shawl and was placing it around your shoulders. You couldn’t help but notice how his hands lingered on your shoulders for a couple of seconds and then slipped away. The truth was this: you had always found it impossible to read men and know their intentions. Was Guy really interested in you for more than just friendship? 

In his own seat, Guy remained silent and still, watching your reaction to the meal he had organised. But you remained closed, your shoulders and back straight, your face straight. He sighed and tightened his fist, not realising that you had noticed him. 

“Is everything alright?” you asked. 

“No, it isn’t,” Guy growled. His jaw was clenched, and his own uncertainty and indecision was driving him mad. He thought back to pursuing Marian; that had been easier. He had always known that she would never love him, and that somehow spurred him on to try and change her, presenting a challenge. You, however, were so difficult to read, being a different creature entirely. When he had touched your hand earlier, by the fire, you had not moved. Was that his sign? 

“Have I done something wrong?” you asked, feeling immediate guilt rise in your chest, and you had no idea what you were feeling guilt for. “Please, Guy, I would never judge you for telling me your thoughts.” 

His gaze locked on yours from across the table. “Most women I’ve encountered and their intentions I can read. Yours I cannot. You confuse me.”

“My intentions in what way? As in, romance?” you asked, your eyes wide in shock at this sudden admission. To think that Guy of Gisborne had power and persuasion, beneath all that was a deep vulnerability. 

“You could call it that, yes,” he replied simply. 

You sighed and looked down into your lap. 

Guy watched you, and noticed a very slight smile on your face. What did that suggest? Amusement? Happiness? 

“Why do you smile?” he asked bluntly. 

“Because I’ve felt the same way about you. I’ve been here a few months now, and I thought maybe I’d be able to read you because you’re not like a lot of the men I’m used to.” 

Guy smirked. “Is that so? Indulge me.” 

“I don’t mean it in a bad sense at all. Far from it. I’ve never really been what men want back where I come from. I began to think you were the same as that.” 

“So, how am I different to these men then?” 

“It’s hard to explain, Guy, and you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” 

Guy got up from the table and stepped around it towards you. He leaned down, feeling that intense draw to you, an invisible connection. It beckoned him closer to you, and then he stopped. 

You reached for the edge of his leather tunic, which had two fastenings open at the top. You grabbed the edge of the tunic and pulled him toward you, stopping for a second so your faces were no more than two inches apart. 

Guy inhaled sharp and then kissed you hard. The two of you succumb to that heat which had been rising for months now. The kiss deepened and your tongues met. You got to your feet and the two of you, still kissing, fumbled over to the bed. 

With shaking hands, in anticipation and excitement, you unfastened Guy’s leather tunic, peeling it from him. He threw it to the floor, thankful to get rid of it. And then you continued kissing. 

Once completely disrobed, Guy lay over you, kissing you. The kisses were less forceful now, and instead were full of love. You brushed your hand up into his hair, lacing your fingers in the raven locks. 

Guy’s hand trailed down your warm body, followed by his lips. “I’ve waited so long for you,” he groaned. 

“You have me now,” you replied. 

The two of you made love slowly, tenderly, deeply. There was no rush in either of you. Everything was about savouring the moment, remaining joined for as long as you could be. 

Guy rocked against you, his head at your neck. Your hands were locked in his and your legs were closed around his waist. With each deep thrust, you felt him press against that pleasure point. It made the waves mount as if each time he hit that spot, it flicked a switch, increasing the electricity. It was building, like a pressure in the very base of your stomach. 

Every sensation that Guy felt was pure pleasure, warmth and love. He was encased in you, protected by you. For a second he pulled his lips from your neck and looked into your eyes, smiling as he did so. His whole heart told him that you were his home. Guy had never known a true home, until now. He continued thrusting into you as you kept your gazes locked, and he watched your smile change, transforming your expression into one of wonder; eyes shut, mouth open. This was his sign to thrust that little quicker, and as he did so, he saw your expression mirror your ecstasy even more intensely. His name slipped off your tongue, becoming caught up in a groan. Your body shook around him, and he could feel you tightening his girth. 

As the orgasm reached its peak and died away, you opened your eyes, feeling aftershocks flicker down your legs. And it was here that you knew Guy had also reached his climax. His eyes closed and you watched him come closer, putting his lips to yours. He groaned into your kiss. You held him as he rode that beautiful wave out and then let him slip down onto your chest, panting. 

Guy closed his eyes, that sense of being at home so intense now. Your heartbeat pulsed against his ear, gradually slowing the longer he remained there, the two of you skin to skin. 

The afterglow lingered around the two of you for a few minutes, until Guy spoke. He lifted his head from your chest and looked at you, brushing a stray piece of sweaty hair from your brow. “You have yet to tell me exactly where you’re from,” he said, smirking. “I was hoping that this may have warmed you into trusting me enough to tell me where you are from.” 

“You won’t believe me, Guy. I know you won’t,” you replied defensively and pulled yourself up the bed so you were sat up. 

Guy shifted beside you and laced his hand in yours. “Trust me, please.” 

You sighed and focused on him, finding him the most handsome man you had ever seen. And somehow he was now yours. “I’m from the future.” 

Guy stared at you blankly. 

“See, I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” 

Guy furrowed his eyebrows. “I never said I didn’t believe you. You’ve assumed immediately what I’m thinking. It’s hardly something that you hear on a regular occasion, is it? So how do you expect me to react?” 

You continued. “I’m from the year 2022. I’d read stories about time slips and never believed they existed. I always thought they were silly ideas or just stories made up by drunk people. This is why I don’t talk too much about home. England is extremely different to this in the future. It would take me a long time to talk about everything.” 

Guy just stared at you and propped up on his elbow, resting his head on his hand. “I have time.” 

***

Follow Forever tag list: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @xxbyimm @guardianofrivendell @meganlpie @linasofia @middleearthpixie @knittastically @asgardianhobbit98 @eunoiaastralwings @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @tschrist1 @lemond57 @luna-xial @quiall321 @sunflwrnsunnieshine @evenstaredits @missihart23

Guy of Gisborne tag list: @puggledy-huggledy-is-not-a-pig @whoooooisthis

(I'm always happy to add people to my list for all fics, or just fics for a particular fandom or character. I'm even happy to remove people as well should they no longer wish to receive notifications. Please let me know any preferences)

[misc-fandoms-ballad]

I’ve seen a number of posts circulating that are trying to replicate the original self care post, and I have mixed feelings about them. On one hand, I’m glad people are looking for help in their own way, but on the other hand it leaves me feeling…off? Wrong? I’m not sure exactly how to put it into words but it doesn’t feel Quite Right. And I was trying to figure out why, and I think I finally realized what the problem is to me.

You should not make your mental or physical or emotional well-being and health dependent on a conditional event.

The original self care post was fun and inspiring, I’ll be honest. It was amazing to see the tumblr community all unite to show the OP that we care and want them to care about themself, too. It was incredible to see the efforts people went through to make the post get so many notes - adding fun facts, tagging mutuals, adding reading recommendations, and the many other things people did. It was exhilarating and fun. I think a lot of this was due to the novelty of it all - nobody had done something like it, and initially the OP had framed it as a joke. As something just for fun to see what would happen. And what felt like almost all of tumblr went “yeah maybe you meant this as a joke but we’re gonna make you practice self care no matter what <3” and. I don’t know how to explain it, it was just amazing, y’know?? It was super cool

But I’ve seen other people post about “I got inspired by the original self care post so if I get X many notes then I’ll start working on Y” and. These have kind of rubbed me the wrong way and I’ve been trying to figure out WHY. And I think the reason is this: I don’t want this to become a trend. The original post was fun because it was new, it was novel, it was also initially a joke - the OP hadn’t originally been serious about the whole thing, they just wanted to see where it would go. But other people are starting to say “hey maybe I could get the same response” and seem to be legitimately tying their well-being to how well an online, essentially anonymous post does. And that’s what bothers me - I don’t want people to be making their well-being and health conditional to how others online react to them. I don’t want people to say “if X happens then I’ll work on Y”. Trust me - making your health conditional doesn’t. Work.

I’ve struggled with mental health challenges. And I’ve been guilty of this mindset - “when I graduate high school, then things will be different” “when I start college, then I’ll feel better” “after I survive this class, then I can work on my mental health” “I’ll work on exercising more over the summer” “I’ll fix my sleep schedule after this semester of college”.

And guess what? It’s pretty much never happened.

The thing that sucks about mental & physical & emotional health is that they aren’t really passive - you have to be actively working on them. You have to be actively doing the exercise and maintaining the sleep schedule and trying to shower regularly and it can be exhausting. But the thing is, they’re going to be exhausting no matter when you try to do them. You can put it off and try to say you’ll do it when A or after B, but it’s not going to matter unless you start today. Practicing self care is hard. Healing from trauma or mental illness or physical illness is not easy. But procrastinating your healing or self care or health is not going to help you. And procrastinating it, waiting to hit some milestone or ‘impossible’ goal or whatever is not going to help.

And I’m not saying you should try to do everything all at once! That would be overwhelming and discouraging. But I am saying that you should choose one or two things to work on today. One or two things to start implementing into your life and work on them for a few weeks. Maybe that’s brushing your teeth even just once a day. Maybe that’s taking a shower every other day. Maybe that’s deciding to take a short walk around your house or apartment complex once a day. Maybe that’s carrying around a water bottle so you stay hydrated. Maybe it’s coloring for 5 minutes a day. Maybe it’s taking 3 minutes to journal. Maybe it’s taking 1 minute to disconnect from the chaos of the world and just breathe.

You can heal from whatever it is you’re struggling with. I promise you that. There is hope and there is light and there is reason to keep moving forward. It’s not necessarily gonna be easy, but it can be done. You can do it. I believe in you.

Please, just remember:

You should not make your mental or physical or emotional well-being and health dependent on a conditional event.

You deserve to be happy. You deserve to feel joy. You deserve to heal. And you deserve to be able to start today on that journey.

[webbedphantom]

Okay, here's something I've been thinking about doing for a while-

Post Five Songs that fit your muse!

Bonus points if they don't come from official material (i.e theme songs from their shows or movies, songs from the game's soundtrack etc.) Optionally, explain why you chose them

1. It Doesn't Matter - RMX 2.014k; by Tony Harnell & Jun Senoue

2. Spider's Web by Tryhardninja

3. His World (from Sonic 06) by Zebrahead

4. Uprising by Muse

5. My Dark Disquiet by Poets of the Fall

Explanations will be below the read more, but since I had a bunch of other songs I wanted to share, here's some honorable mentions.

Unbreakable Whisper by Eresse & KØNTAGIØN

Spider-Man Junkie XL Remix by Micheal Bublé & Junkie XL

GaMetal's cover of Life Will Change ft. Sapphire and Sax Dragon

What I'm Made Of by Crush 40

GaMetal's cover of Live and Learn

REALiZE by LiSA

And... Whatever this is by Tatsuya Kitani

Tagged by: No one, but I'm sure I'm not the first person to think of this

Tagging: Whoever feels like doing it!

Let's go over the actual picks first:

It Doesn't Matter has always kinda felt perfect for Aaron. Granted most Sonic music does, but this one especially always kinda felt like his modus operandi. He's going to do what he thinks is right, regardless of who tells him it's not. He will fight for what he believes until he can't anymore. But he's also not preachy about it. He's doing what he can, simply because he can.

Spider's Web is kinda stretching the rules of the bonus challenge a bit, but it is a fan song, so I'm letting it slide. The lyrics perfectly capture the Spider-Man dilemma, of constantly getting in your own way, of the difficulty of trying to live two lives, while also reinforcing the themes of the first entry. The struggle is also kinda perfect for Aaron and Arsène's dynamic, these two parts of the same whole that constantly butt heads. They're both spinning the web they're stuck in, and they have to work together to get out of it.

His World. Another Sonic song, because those really are perfect for him, though this one I chose more to represent the cocky attitude he has when he's in his element, and how much more free he feels when he's out saving the day. The costume really makes him feel like he can do anything, that he's almost unstoppable, and this really captures that.

Uprising is a song that a friend recommended me after finding out how much I loved the next entry. It fits the tone of the first semester really well, with the mystery of Shiho's disappearance, and the massive conspiracy that lies beneath the surface. Granted, the conspiracy doesn't play into the first semester all that much, but it is the reason everything happens. What's more, the lyrics do kinda capture the ragtag rebellious nature of the team, and the overall vibe fits the supernatural elements of the whole thing.

Dark Disquiet is a song I heard by chance while I was playing Control, (amazing game btw) and it's been a constant on my playlists ever since. It's a perfect song for the first semester, and the AU as a whole, to the point that I could probably break down the whole thing and point out all the parallels and the themes that match up with it, from the "Arresting Duality" mirroring Aaron and Arsène's dynamic/his two lives as both a highschooler and a superhero, to "Corrupting Reality" matching up with the encroaching threat of the Metaverse, to the ending's allusions to strings both bringing them to life but also being something they should break free from being a perfect representation of the Spider-Man dilemma. This song is just... so shocking good. Cannot recommend it enough.

Now let's go over the honorable mentions, AKA the "Volt just wanted an excuse to share these songs" list.

Unbreakable Whisper is a fan made song for Sonic Frontiers that, again, fits his cocky attitude in battle, and how strong his will is, even against seemingly impossible odds. It's also really catchy and I highly recommend it if you liked Frontiers' boss themes.

Spider-Man Junkie XL Remix is a song that I had absolutely no idea was an official remix from Spider-Man 2 for most of my life, yet is one I instantly fell in love with because it's so dang catchy. Plus the jazzy vibe fits a Persona 5 styled Spider-Man perfectly.

I shocking love GaMetal, and their cover of Life Will Change is one of my all time favorites. It's like if Crush 40 remixed the song for Strikers, it's incredible!! And since Strikers is absolutely Aaron's vibe, it fits him pretty well too

What I'm Made Of. Another Sonic song with cocky lyrics that showcase how strong his will is. What a complete and utter surprise

Live and Learn is my favorite song ever, my favorite boss theme ever, and something I've worked into Phantom Spider multiple times. And I honestly can't decide if I prefer GaMetal's take on it, or the one from 30th anniversary symphony. I'd link both if I could, but since GaMetal is fan content that definitely deserves more love, that's what I went with here.

REALiZE doesn't fit Aaron insanely well, at least no more than any other Spider-Man song, but I will take any opportunity to remind people that Spider-Verse got an official anime OP in Japan

Finally, there's the reason I actually made this post, because I desperately want to know what the lyrics of this song are, but I have no idea how to look it up. Spotify recommended it to me randomly and I've been listening to it constantly. The vibe fits Aaron so well, and the only reason it isn't on the actual list is because I have no idea if the lyrics fit as well. And because I'm stupid and the title is in Japanese, I have no idea how to look this up, which is also why the link is to Spotify instead of YouTube.

Please help me, I am very stupid.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Wedding Fic Challenge

The following are prompts including a wedding or proposal! Reader or OC fics AND Character/Character ships are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

Open Prompts

There is a wardrobe malfunction the day of the wedding.

Explain why the couple is late to their own wedding.

It's a little unconventional to meet the family at the wedding, but the couple just couldn't wait any longer.

The team finds out about the wedding five minutes before it happens. Possibly less. They've gotta literally run to the courthouse if they're going to make it.

Four members of the team come forward to offer something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.

Everything goes wrong and Character A is convinced that its ruined. Character B reminds them they only need one thing for their wedding to be perfect - each other.

After a crazy night out in Vegas, the couple wakes up with ring pops on their fingers and a certificate that proves the impossible.

Character A catches the bouquet... and tosses it to Character B. Does that count as a proposal?

Character A asks Character B's child's permission to marry their parent.

Character A could not have picked a worse time to propose to Character B.

Always the bridesmaid/groomsmen, never the bride/groom.

Character A falls head over heels for Character B, who is the adult entertainment at their best friend's bachelor(ette) party.

This is a marriage of convenience, but one of them really wants a wedding. They fall in love during the planning.

The couple discusses the moment they realized they wanted to marry one another.

Character A keeps trying to propose at the perfect moment, but keeps getting interrupted.

The team was already suspicous about their "friendship" but really didn't expect them to come back from a long weekend with matching rings.

Character A is very nervous about marriage to Character B because they never really had a positive example as a child.

Dialogue Prompts

"Is the (gun) holster really necessary? On our wedding day?"

"Are you asking me to marry you?" "Very poorly, yes."

"I don't think that's what they meant by a shotgun wedding."

"You're getting married? Why?" "For the tax benefits, mostly."

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Sorry, I must have misheard. I thought you just asked me to marry you.”

“This was not what I envisioned when I was a kid. It’s much better.”

Character Specific Prompts

[Tara] Tara's nervous about marriage after a divorce and a broken engagement, but seeing how well Rossi's *fourth* marriage seems to be working out for him has changed her mind.

[Hotch] Jack is the ringbearer and he informs the bride/groom that he’s lost the ring… a couple hours before the wedding.

[Spencer] He has the same dream he had before with Maeve. But this time, when he lifts the veil, he has no doubts.

[Spencer] The team thought he was visiting his mom in Las Vegas, so they weren’t expecting him to come back with a spouse.

[Spencer or JJ] A rewrite/expansion of the aftermath of Truth or Dare at Rossi’s wedding.

[JJ] She says goodbye before she makes the decision to marry Will.

AU Prompts

[Victorian/Royalty AU] Characters A and B are in an arranged marriage and meet for the first time on their wedding day.

[Soulmate AU] Characters A and B are soulmates. Character A is a romantic who wants to be wooed. Character B doesn't understand why they should have to do that if they're soulmates.

[Fairy AU] Character A thought they were clever enough to deal with fairies. Then they accidentally married one.

Rules

The fic can be a Reader insert, or a character/character ship. It can feature any Criminal Minds character.

Tag me in the fic, or send it to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it just for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

[ijustwant2write]

Call Me By My Name-Pietro Maximoff x Powers!Reader

(GIF credit to @dailymarvelposts​)

Tags: @bloodorangemoonlight​ @amirahiddleston​

Requested by @husherstan​ : ‘could you write a one w pietro maximoff? idk if you know about a trend on tik tok where a gf or bf call them partners by they first name. Reader and Pietro are enemies cuz them both are always trying to be the best of t team, reader calls him by others names and when she (or gn) calls by him real name he was like "why are you calling me like that? whats wrong with you? are you feeling bad today?" (and he likes her so fucking much, a simp)’

Characters: Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Avengers team x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name   

(Character has the power of force fields, that both generate electricity and provide protection for them/others)  

Warnings: Name calling, bullying, arguing, fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“For the last time, watch where you’re going Speedy Gonzales!” I snapped as Pietro almost knocked me over again.

His form whizzed around the room once more before stopping in front of me.“Maybe try keeping up next time.”

I was startled by the force he left behind as he ran off again making a show of circling the entire training room multiple times, creating a small wave of air. I groaned loudly as I went back to jogging. He was such a show off, it infuriated me. We weren’t here to compete against each other, we were supposed to be a team; but when he waltzed around the place boasting about how fast he was, it was really hard not to step up to the plate. 

Pietro was running faster than usual, trying to overlap me dozens of times, more than he would have done in a normal session. It got on my last nerve, making me stop, my powers already flowing through my arms. It would be hard to pinpoint him, so I charged up a huge ball of electricity, casting it out harshly. I just managed to catch him, laughing as he yelped out in surprise, being thrown high into the air before landing on the sparring mats. I saw him slowly get up, clearly I had caused some pain. My fun was soon ended as he ran towards me again, having to quickly put up a force field that would protect me. Pietro bounced off it, though I hadn’t put any charge in this one, so he only fell on his backside.

“Enough!” Wanda yelled out, though we still kept our guard up around each other.“Really (Y/N)? You can relax now.”

“I don’t trust him.” I replied.

She sighed.“Come on, Steve wants to talk about the mission.”

“Why? We debriefed three days ago.”

“Something to do with it being on the news.” she shrugged, walking away.

Pietro glanced back at me, looking me up and down before following his sister. However, he didn’t look at me with disgust or anything of the sort, it was almost as if he was checking me out. I tutted at myself, why on Earth would he ever look at me like that?

I wasn’t happy joining the meeting in my sweaty state.Everyone else was dressed and put together, but at least Pietro looked similar. The team was gathered around a table, looking to Steve who was stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest. He had the look of disappointment on his face, which meant bad news for the rest of us...or whoever was in trouble. With no seats left, I copied Steve’s stance at the back of the room, rolling my eyes when Pietro stood beside me.

“Sorry to call you guys in on such short notice.” Steve started.“But I feel that we have to discuss something that’s starting to effect the team.”

He pulled up a screen showing the news. It had images and videos of our last mission. We were raiding an old factory on the edge of the city, finding a terrorist group hiding out there as they worked on their gadgets. News coverage showed the team fighting from a helicopter view, and we were all confused as to why Steve was showing us this.

“Fastest man alive,” Pietro repeated what the reporter said,“it has a nice ring to it.”

“I wouldn’t put that in your Tinder bio.” I quipped, causing a few chuckles.

Steve looked at me.“And this is why we’re here today.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.“What?”

“You and Pietro are always at each other’s throats. It’s...well frankly, it’s exhausting listening to you two arguing all the time. And it could seriously put someone in danger whilst on a mission, even you two.”

“He always starts it-”

Pietro held up a finger.“Hold on, you do too-”

“You’re just proving his point guys.” Natasha spoke over us.

“As I was saying,” Steve brought the attention back to him,“the media has also caught onto this. There’s multiple images of you two clearly arguing, or even getting in each others way during the mission. At one point, you’re both trying to save the same person, but almost miss that chance because you’re so invested in being better than the other!”

Steve was really mad, and from everyone else’s faces, they thought the same thing.

“So until all of this changes, you two are suspended from any missions.”

“What?!” we both exclaimed.

“And you may not approach any other team member for assistance with training.”

“Why are we both being punished?” I demanded to know.

“Oh, do not play the victim here Mrs Incredible!” Pietro snapped.

“Mrs Incredible is super stretchy, it’s the daughter who has the same powers as me, you idiot!”

“See? You’re further showing me that I made the right decision. I felt bad at first, but now I know that this is the right direction to go in.” Steve raised his voice.“You’re both dismissed.”

“Well, what are the rest of you doing?” Pietro dared to ask.

“We are going to go over all the planning we have done for upcoming missions. Everything has to change because of you two. Now please go.”

I held it together as I left the room, not wanting to appear like a toddler stomping away in a tantrum. It was impossible to get away from Pietro, what with him being ‘the fastest man alive’, but I was going to try. I didn’t need another argument right now, I was upset, needed to be alone. Apparently, I wasn’t going to get that.

“Leave me alone.” I warned Pietro as he followed me.

“I can’t believe this! They’ve kicked us off the team because you always have to say something-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And to think, they’re going to risk not having me on the team. I help them with everything, I’m a crucial part-”

“Pietro!” I shouted, spinning on my heel to face him. 

His eyes widened at that, glancing down to my clenched up fists, little electric sparks running over them, before looking me in my teary eyes. 

I sighed, relaxing my tense shoulders and hands before leaving. There was no point trying to explain. He wouldn’t understand. We would both get mad, probably fight, the team would have to break us up; I had no energy to do that. Slowly turning away, I was surprised by the silence that followed, Pietro didn’t even follow me. 

I checked the time on the lock screen of my phone, seeing that an hour had passed since I fled from Pietro. It also made me realise how dark the room had become, the sun would set in a few minutes. But I didn’t bother turning on any lights, instead leaning back again on the chair. I was sat in an empty lobby, it was a small room, facing the floor to ceiling window that showed the landscape that surrounded the headquarters. Besides just sitting here, I should have distracted myself. Perhaps put on a film, relax after training, something to take my mind off of things. Instead, I decided to sit with my thoughts.

“H-hey.” I heard Pietro quietly say from the doorway. 

Looking over my shoulder, I didn’t reply, facing the window again when he began walking towards me. He hesitantly turned on a lamp near us, sitting on the chair beside mine. Pietro also looked out of the window, clasping his hands together for a few seconds before fidgeting. I tried to ignore it, though after an hour of peace and nothingness, it became irritating quickly.

“Can you stop?” I blurted out.“Please?”

“Are you annoyed by everything I do?” he asked.

“Not...everything. I just...doesn’t matter, it’s not like you care anyway.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’m not falling for this Pietro.”

“Why are you saying my name?”

“What?”

“You never say my name. Actually, we never say each others names.”

“And why does that matter?”

“It just feels, it feels serious.”

“I mean, we’ve basically been kicked off the team, so yeah, it’s serious.”

“We’ve not been kicked off the team (Y/N).”

“We could be if we don’t get our act together.”

“It won’t go that far-”

“But it could! I can’t believe how calm you are about the whole thing.” I stood, distancing myself from him.“I’ve worked too hard for this. Imagine what would happen if word got out that I was disbanded from the Avengers because of a tiny argument, with a team member who is so narcissistic that he can’t put others before himself!”

I realised I had began ranting, stopping myself before I said anything else hurtful. But by the look of Pietro’s face, it was already too late.

“I...I’m sorry (Y/N).” he never broke eye contact.“And before you say anything, I mean it.”

“Pietro, I-”

“I can see how much this job means to you.”

“It’s my fault too. I always try to outdo you or challenge you.”

“No, don’t be humble.” he got out of his seat, standing in front of me.“It’s almost always my fault that we argue. And I hate myself for it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m usually very good with the ladies.” he grinned, though it disappeared when he realised it wasn’t time to joke.“But not around you apparently. It’s probably because you’re extremely strong and sure of yourself, and I go for a different type, the polar opposite to you.”

“Pietro, I...um...”

“I was really impressed by you when we first met. It made me nervous actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, all I can do is run really fast.”

“But, you’ve been on much more missions than I have. Doesn’t that say something?” I hung my head.

“Are you crazy? You’re not on those missions because they don’t need you.”

My head whipped up to see his smile drop.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant that those missions are for Avengers like me. The ones they can use over and over without worrying about them being too tired for the next one. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too important.”

“I never thought I would say this, but Pietro, you’re an important part of the team too. I always rose to your challenges because I felt I needed to prove something to the others. I was new, then I was accepted after all my relentless training, but when you and Wanda came along, I instantly became old news. And you didn’t even go through the rigorous regimes like I did, so I just assumed you were better than me.”

“It seems we were both wrong about each other. We were going through a lot of effort to outdo the other when we could have saved that energy for...well, anything else really.”

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

Pietro held his hand out.“Truce?”

I smiled up at him as I shook it.“Truce.”

A cheeky smirk appeared as he raised an eyebrow at me.“Let’s not tell the team about this just yet. I feel like there would be a lot of ‘I told you so’.”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

“And another thing.”

I noticed he was still holding my hand, though they were lowered now, and his grip wasn’t as firm.“Yes?”

“Can we start calling each other by our actual names?”

“I mean, I assumed we would anyway.”

“Oh, good. I just...”

“You just?”

“I just like the way it sounds when you say my name.”

[heytherejulietx]

K. ~ Fred Weasley

Masterlists

Requests are CLOSED

Notes - Hi! So this is my own entry to my writing challenge. I found this song literally yesterday and after listening to the lyrics I had to use it. Originally I was going to use the song Dear True Love by Sleeping At Last but when I heard this I had to write it. So yeah, I hope you enjoy it as mich as I do! Please leave some nice feedback, I’m a slut for validation.

Warnings - A few hot moments, though no actual smut.

Word count - 4.2k.

Harry Potter tag list - @idont-knowrn @weasleysflowr @angelinathebook @msmimimerton @durmstrange @kashishwrites

Twins tag list - @whizbangs-78

If you’d like to be added to any tag list please just tell me!

I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back

We were sitting down in a restaurant waiting for the check

~

Fred couldn't really distinguish the line that was drawn between when he was friends with Y/N and when he first started liking her. They had been best friends since their first year at Hogwarts; himself, George, and her. They were inseparable. The three did everything together, and the only time they really were apart was when they had to head off into their separate dormitories for the night. As they got older, Fred started to view her as more of a friend. Though if someone was to ask him when he started feeling that way, he couldn't give an answer. Fondness turned into adoration, friendliness turned into flirtatiousness, and friendship turned into a crush. Though Fred never did anything about it throughout his schooling years. He thought she didn't like him in that way, and whilst being bound in the agonising friend-zone hurt him, he respected her decision and just wanted to get happy.

Though, there was still never a day where he looked at her and didn't think she was beautiful. There was never a day when he didn't want to gather her in his arms and never let go of her. There was never a day where he didn't want to pull her closer by the belt-loops on her trousers and kiss her until they were breathless. Sometimes George teased him about how whipped he was, though instead of getting offended he just agreed. He most definitely was whipped, but he loved it.

When the twins had left Hogwarts to start up their shop, Y/N had remained at the school to finish off her year and complete her exams. And whilst the twins - but mostly Fred - missed her horribly for those months - on the day after the summer she'd finished school before, she turned up at the door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, asking for a job. And since that point on, it was like they were at school again. They were inseparable. And Fred was more in love with her than ever before.

Though he had never felt more in love with her than he did one early Sunday morning. The shop was closed for some maintenance that was being done, so whilst George was snoozing in his apartment, Fred and Y/N had gone out for breakfast at a muggle café in London. They had already eaten all of their food and were waiting for the check so that they could leave. In that moment Y/N was laughing at something that Fred had said, and he just looked over at her with such adoration and love, only one thought going through his mind.

"I bloody love this woman."

~

We had made love earlier that day with no strings attached

But I could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then

~

Fred could remember the night before that morning so clearly. He couldn't get it out of his head, the way she looked in his bed, clothes discarded over the bedroom floor and her hair splayed out over his pillow, whispering his name breathily as she pulled him impossibly closer. He would die a happy man if that was his last thought. She was just so beautiful, simply the thought of it made butterflies swirl in his stomach and a fond smile to sweep across his lips.

The night before hadn't been planned. At first she had just been coming over Fred's place for dinner as George was busy on his own date with Angelina, though the atmosphere between them was so different that night. Y/N kept shifting in her seat the whole dinner, and whenever they made eye contact, it was intense. Intense in a way that it had never been before. He couldn't remember what he had said to her, but after the dinner was over she flung herself at him mid-conversation and kissed him with a passion that he didn't realise she had.

"Please." She had whined through the kiss, both of them stumbling through the hallway towards Fred's bedroom. "Just tonight, Freddie. No strings attached."

And whilst the promise of no strings attached stung a little, the attraction and lust that had filled him in that moment was undeniable.

"Freddie?" 

Fred looked back up and across the table at Y/N, pulling himself out of the love-driven trance that he had found himself in. When he met her gaze he pulled a half-smile onto his lips when looking at the beautiful woman in front of him, and seeing the way she was looking at him.

Oh.

She was looking at him the same way he looked at her multiple times a day. With such a fondness that his heart started racing in his chest and his palms became sweaty. 

She liked him back.

~

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

~

Fred groaned as he rolled over in the bed and stretched his arm out for his lover, though felt nothing but pillows and the quilt, and not the beautiful girl who belonged there. He pat around the space another few times, just to make sure her frame really wasn't there, before pouting as he flipped over to lay on his back.

"Darling!" He groaned, and didn't miss the distinct giggle across the room from his lover. "Come back, I miss you too much. I can hear my heart breaking more and more with every moment that you're away."

"Stop being so dramatic, I'm just lighting a candle." She scoffed fondly, followed by the click of a lighter being lit.

"You left me to light a bloody candle?" Fred sat up and had to squint his eyes to see her in the dimly lit room. When he spotted her, stood on the other side of the room by their dresser with a now-lit candle, he couldn't help but smile despite the false annoyance he was trying to portray. She was stood there in just her underwear, her hair messy and a bit knotted, but to him she looked perfect. She caught his gaze across the room and sent him a wink, before shrugging her shoulders at his previously spoken statement.

"Hey, they smell nice. This is the one that reminds me of your mum's house." She explained with a soft smile as she put the lighter away in the top drawer of their dresser.

"Why? Because it's in an orange jar?" Fred joked with a small entertained smirk when he watched her roll her eyes.

"No." She giggled. "It smells like cinnamon, like her cooking whenever we go to visit them." 

Fred watched as she approached the bed with the candle in her hand, and waited until she had put it down on their bedside table before he smirked and moved his arms around her waist, tugging her into the bed.

"Fred!" She squealed, laughing once he had rolled them so he was leaning over her, his legs bracketing hers as his hands moved down to her waist to start tickling her. She only laughed harder, the noise making him smile fondly as he kept running his fingers across her ribs, pushing away her hands that made a futile attempt at getting him to stop. He kept at it until he could see that she was running out of breath, despite still laughing loudly. In one fluid movement he caught each of her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above her head against the pillow, his other hand resting on her hip, his thumb brushing along the waistband of her underwear.

"I hate you." She groaned, a slight giggle in her words at the ghosting of his tickles. 

"No you dont." Fred smirked, looking down at her with a shit-eating grin. "You love me."

"Yeah, I guess I do." She sighed dramatically, just giggling when Fred had rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

"You guess?" Fred raised an eyebrow at her before lowering his head to her neck, leaving light kisses along the already marked skin. He felt her hands wiggle in his grip, though he kept her wrists pressed into the pillows.

"Mhm." She hummed, another quiet giggle leaving her lips. 

Fred just smirked against her neck before tilting his head a little, leaving open-mouthed kisses at the base of her throat instead. He felt an especially smug feeling wash over him when he heard her breath catch in her throat once he'd lightly sucked on the exposed skin there, her hands wriggling again.

"Still guess so?" He asked smugly against her neck, being answered with a quiet whine instead of a sarcastic remark.

"Freddie." She whined, pulling against his hand. "Stop being such a tease."

Fred only chuckled, pulling back from her neck to lift his head and meet her lips with his instead, breathing in her exhale once she had sighed into his mouth. "Sorry, love." He muttered, releasing her wrists to rest his hands on her hips, feeling her's immediately find a place in his fiery locks. "Can't help myself."

~

And on the Lower East Side you're dancing with me now

And I'm taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall

~

One of her favourite things to do was dance. She danced all the time; when she was working, when she was cooking, when she was getting changed. She was always in such a good mood, it was astonishing to him that one person could hold so much happiness in them. Which was why it was so obvious to Fred when she was in a bad mood. She became very quiet, and almost drained.

Fred noticed this when he came home from work on one of the days she had off, and noticed her sat on the sofa with their cat Percy (Fred thought that naming their cat after his older brother was an absolutely hilarious idea, especially since Percy hated cats) still in her pyjamas, which was odd because even if she wasn't going anywhere she would still get dressed for the day.

She greeted him when he had come home, looking over at him as he took his shoes off with a small smile, and Fred could definitely tell that something was wrong when the smile didn't quite meet her eyes as it usually did.

"Hey, love." Fred said softly as he walked into the room, moving to crouch in front of her and gently took her hands. "Are you alright?"

Y/N sighed, shrugging as she looked down at their hands. "I had an argument with my mum this morning when she called. And we just never really argue a lot, so it kind of upset me a bit."

Fred frowned and let go of her hands to wrap his arms around her waist, standing with her so they could hug properly. "I'm sorry, darling." He said softly, leaving a kiss against her hairline as he held her tighter when feeling her grip on him tighten. 

They kept stood like that for a while in silence, with Fred leaving kisses against whatever part of her he could reach as he gently rubbed her back, trying to offer whatever sort of comfort he could give her that would make her feel even just a little bit better. He noticed that as the minutes passed her grip on him subtly got looser and looser, until she was simply holding him normally.

After a few minutes Fred pulled away from the hug with a soft smile, and leaned down to her height so he could press a soft kiss against her lips, and couldn't help but feel a bit better when he felt her smile against his lips. When he'd pulled away she smiled at him softly and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek, before returning to her spot on the sofa beside Percy, who was now asleep.

Though she still didn't look too happy, so after a moment of thought Fred smiled and moved across the room to their muggle CD player - an invention that she had introduced to him a few months back, and since then had loved it so much to be collecting muggle CDs of music that he liked. He found one of their favourite CDs to listen to together and put the disk in before he turned back towards Y/N as the music started floating across the room.

"Could you do me the honour of dancing with me, my love?" Fred bowed before her with one hand stretched out towards her, his words spoken in an over-the-top posh accent.

"Of course, my darling." She giggled, taking his hand and letting him pull her out of her seat to the middle of the room.

Fred's hands fell to rest on her waist as her arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders, the two of them swaying to the music together as they kept each other held close. Her head leaned to rest against his chest and she sighed softly, before Fred felt her relax against him. They danced for a while, long enough and peacefully enough for the rest of the world to blur away, and to just be left with the two of them there, the music a beautiful ambience in the background as the two swayed together lovingly.

"I love you, Freddie." She whispered softly, tilting her head to look at him with an expression that made him melt.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He leaned down to capture her soft lips with his own, a warm feeling bubbling in his stomach at the simplest touch from her.

Once he had pulled away, he removed one of his hands from her waist and reached to take one of her's instead, his smile growing as he gently spun her twice. Y/N giggled as she spun, falling back into Fred's chest with a light laugh as her hand gently squeezed his. Their dancing soon became almost silly, with her trying to spin Fred a few times - which was only successful when Fred helped her out by ducking since he was a considerable amount taller than her - and Fred dipping Y/N whenever a song ended. They ended up dancing for so long that before they knew it the album had ended. At the end of the song Fred dipped Y/N which caused her to giggle and smile at him - an expression that always made him fall in love with her all over again. Instead of letting her back up he leaned down with her to kiss her instead, smiling against her lips when she had wrapped both arms around his shoulders to pull herself closer and deepen the kiss.

By the evening, when the light outside was a beautiful orange glow that cast an amazing light through their windows, they were both in the bedroom, wrapped up in each other's embrace underneath the sheets.

"Freddie." Y/N whispered, only getting a hum from the man who had his face pressed against the soft skin of her neck, his arms wrapped around her gently. "I need to get up, I'm staying at my sister's to help with the baby."

Fred groaned, holding onto her tighter which made her giggle as she lightly slapped his shoulder. "Come on, please? I can't be late, you know what she's like."

Fred sighed heavily though despite his reluctance to let her go he unwound his arms from her waist and rolled over, pouting when she had turned to look at him, whereas she just giggled quietly at his expression before getting out of bed. 

"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, love. We've got that double date with George and Angelina, remember?"

Though Fred wasn't really listening to her, instead his attention was her moving around the room to get her underwear, his eyes never leaving her body as she put them on. He sat up when she'd walked past the wall parallel to the window which had flowers painted over it, holding a hand up, despite her still only in her underwear. "Hold still for a moment."

"Fred, I really need to-"

"No no no, it'll only take a moment." Fred searched the draw of his bedside table for a moment before he smiled as he pulled out what he had been looking for - a polaroid camera. It had been a gift from one of their muggle friends the previous christmas, and Fred had been obsessed with it since they had gotten it. He took every opportunity to take a photo of her, and that was a lot of the time.

"Fred, I look awful." She groaned.

"Awfully gorgeous, my love, now stand still for a moment, will you?" He asked, smiling when she had sighed though leaned against the wall and kept still. He raised the camera to his eye, a fond smile crossing his lips at the beauty he was met with - the orange glow of the evening light casting over her exposed skin, making her look like an angel. "Beautiful." He complimented once he had snapped the picture, watching as it was printed at the top of the camera.

"Thank you." She smiled almost bashfully. "Can I get dressed now, love?"

~

Think I like you best when you're dressed in black from head to toe

Think I like you best when you're just with me

And no one else

~

Fred always thought she was beautiful. The word ugly or unattractive just wasn't in his vocabulary whenever she was around. Every outfit looked good on her, every colour looked good on her - though his favourite colour on her had to be black. To Fred, it was the colour that made her features stand out the most. It made her eyes seem brighter than ever before. It made her hair shine and almost glow whenever it was under any sort of light. It made every beauty mark and freckle stand out. It made him fall in love with her even more, if that were possible. 

Though Y/N didn't always see that, and for the life of him Fred couldn't understand why. She was so beautiful and he thought that it was so obvious, but to her it wasn't.

"Freddie?" She had asked him once from their bedroom, whilst he had been in the kitchen cooking dinner. "Can you come in here for a moment? I need to ask you something."

Fred frowned, noticing almost a hint of nervousness in her voice, though he was almost stunned when he walked into the bedroom and saw what she was wearing. She was dressed in a vintage style button-down  black dress, that had a neckline that dipped down low enough so that he could see her collarbones and the top part of her chest, and was short enough so that he could see above her knees to her mid-thigh.

"Do you think this looks alright?" She asked, looking at herself in their bedroom mirror, turning to different angles as she frowned at herself critically. "I got it for that party we're going on but I'm not too sure about it."

Fred shook his head, moving over to stand behind her and moved his arms around her waist, tucking her head underneath his chin as he met her gaze in the mirror. "You look beautiful, darling." He said softly, gently squeezing her in his hold. "You could never look anything less than gorgeous, okay?" 

He watched as she smiled bashfully and nodded her head, looking at herself in the mirror again as she leaned against him. "Thank you, Freddie."

"It's no problem, love." He smiled softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her neck as she closed her eyes and sighed in content.

~

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

~

Fred groaned as he collapsed back onto the bed, watching as Y/N moved across the room to light a few of the many candles she had collected over time. "You're not leaving me for those bloody candles again, are you?" He huffed, watching her, in nothing but her underwear, light the candles like he'd seen her do many times.

"Hey!" She whined, pouting as she turned to look down at him. "Candles are romantic. And they smell nice."

"I'm romantic and I smell nice, what's your point?" He asked with a small smirk, only getting a scoff in return. "Darling come back, I want you now." He groaned overdramatically, flopping back over the bed with a loud sigh.

"You have a left hand, don't you?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. "Use it if you're that impatient." She giggled when turning and seeing his bewildered expression, as he had definitely not expected that sentence to leave her mouth so casually.

"Okay, that's it." Fred moved to get up and crossed the bedroom to be standing behind her, before he wound his arms around her waist and picked her up.

"Fred!" She giggled the complaint as he carried her across the bedroom towards the bed. "No wait, I didn't finish lighting the candles!"

He simply ignored her and gently tossed her onto the bed, which caused her to laugh a lot harder as he got onto the bed and situated himself over her.

"Oh yeah, that's terribly romantic, Freddie." She teased with another giggle as she pushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me, will you?"

~

And I'm kissing you lying in my room

Holding you until you fall asleep

~

Fred adored every single aspect of being with Y/N. He could spend the whole day in one of her hugs, or dancing with her, or even just talking with her. And maybe he was a little biased considering he loved her to the moon and back anyways, but everything about her just pulled him in deeper and deeper, like a siren leading a sailor into the deep dark waters. Though one of his favourite moments with her was probably when they shared lazy kisses, whether that was first thing in the morning or the last thing at night. If it was the latter, then that usually entailed after-sex kisses, which Fred adored as much as the sex itself. There was nothing better than soft and light kisses after deep and passionate ones had been shared.

Y/N sighed into Fred's mouth as he rolled them over so she was underneath him, peppering her flushed and sweaty skin with light kisses once he had pulled away, nothing in contrast to what he had previously been leaving against her skin.

"I love you." Fred whispered against her pink cheek, before tilting his head to capture her lips in a soft and gentle kiss, despite it's lightness, still managed to take Fred's breath away.

"I love you too." She smiled softly, and when Fred pulled away enough to look at her he could see her eyes were half closed, and he could see how tired she was.

In one careful movement Fred rolled off of her and curled his arm around her waist, pulling her smaller frame into his larger one so her back would be flush against his chest. He felt her body relax against his as he pulled the covers over the both of them, and tightened his arm around her waist subtly.

"Night Freddie." She whispered, her eyes closing when Fred had left a gentle kiss against her exposed shoulder.

"Goodnight, darling." He whispered, leaving another kiss against her skin before relaxing against the pillows, holding her until she fell asleep.

~

And it's just as good as I knew it would be

Stay with me I don't want you to leave

~

Fred often found himself staying up longer than Y/N, though he loved those moments he got to admire her beauty in it's rawest form. He thought she was absolutely stunning, inside and out, and really couldn't have asked for a better person to spend the rest of his life with. Of course, back in Hogwarts when he was crushing on her like crazy, he often imagined what it would be like to be with her intimately. He imagined late night walks by the lake, candlelit dinners, late nights up talking. He had thought at that moment in time that nothing could possibly be better than that. Though he was so so wrong, because the real thing was so much better. She was so much better than whatever version of her he had imagined. Sure, she was probably the best friend he could have asked for in Hogwarts, though her friendship was absolutely nothing compared to her love.

That was one of many reasons why in the bottom of Fred's bedside table was a small red velvet box in, with a small silver diamond ring in. He wanted her to be his forever and he wanted to be her's. He never wanted her to leave.

~

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

[strawwritesfic]

Bucky Barnes x Pregnant!Enhanced!Reader: Where Gods Do Fear to Tread [Ch. 7]

Summary: You can teach an old dog new tricks, but it’s going to cost you.

Challenge: “9 Months” challenge by crackleviolet on Lunaescence Archive -- Bonus One -- Twins

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (sexual references; pregnancy; multiple pregnancy; Bucky attends therapy sessions; physical violence against a pregnant woman (accidentally, by a villain); child abduction; foul language; Enhanced!Reader; Avenger!Reader; Tony & Reader friendship; Sharon & Reader friendship; Sam & Steve Friendship; Steve & Reader Friendship; Steve & Bucky friendship; Avengers Tower; Bucky spent time with Red Room)

Pairings: Bucky Barnes/Female!Reader; Steve/Sharon; Tony/Pepper

Tag List: @imaginesfire​; @ginger-swag-rapunzel​

Master List

Chapter 7: Picking Names

Finding out you had not one baby but two growing inside you went a long way in explaining why you felt as horrible as you did in the following months. Your extreme morning sickness faded in time, only to be replaced by symptoms you considered—despite all insistence previously—to be much worse.

The sharp leg cramps weren’t too bad…at first. By month eight, they were agonizing. All you wanted to do nearly all the time was sleep, but the pain always woke you up. Even that might have been tolerable, however, if you weren’t gaining weight on top of everything else. At least if you had had morning sickness, you wouldn’t have been so hungry all the damn time.

You felt like a blimp, truth be told, a feeling only exacerbated by your bellybutton popping out. If only you could have slept and forgotten how you looked! Instead, you remained trapped in a cycle of pain and exhaustion that by then you worried wasn’t really going to end in a month’s time.

“Just kill me,” you moaned against the couch pillow. “I don’t want to live anymore.”

“Sorry. No can do.”

It cost you some energy, but you managed to lift your head high enough to shoot Tony a glare. Bucky, Steve, and Sam were painting the nursery upstairs and had sent you away due to concerns over fumes. You had come to the common area to try napping, but Tony was busy in the kitchen and just wouldn’t leave. If he insisted on babysitting you, the least he could have done was try to humor you at the same time.

“Why not?” you asked.

“Again, I’m not looking into provoking your husband into putting a complete kibosh on the Stark line. He’s got Wilson and Rogers to back him up, too. Can you imagine the obituary? ‘Killed by three honored vets.’ No one would attend my funeral.”

“What about time travel? Send me back to warn myself not to get pregnant.”

“Theoretically impossible, not to mention rife with possibilities to ruin our present.”

“Remind me again what use it is, being your friend?”

“I will concede that most of the benefits are wasted on a married woman,” he said with a smile.

Huffing, you laid back down to stare blearily at the wide-screen television affixed to the opposite wall. Tears obscured the images moving across it. When you tried to blink them away, your eyelids got stuck in place. The voices and Tony’s presence seemed to fade away. Maybe you could get some sleep after all…

“[Name]. Hey, come on [Name]. Wake up.”

“She’s not moving.”

“[Name].”

“You want me to get my Hulk prod?”

“I swear to God, Tony, if you try tazing my wife—”

“You got a better idea?”

“Try leaving her there? She probably needs the rest.”

“She can’t sleep on the couch for the rest of the night, Sam.”

It didn’t feel as though you had slept long at all when a cacophony of voices interrupted your nap. Try as you might have to ignore them, they just wouldn’t stop talking. You opened your eyes with a sharp exhalation of breath to find Tony, Bucky, Sam, and Steve all standing crowded around your sofa.

“We thought you finally might have died,” Tony explained.

“If she had died on your watch,” Bucky began, but Tony interrupted him with:

“Your level of faith in me continues to astound me, Barnes.”

“I’m not going to die in my sleep,” you said testily as you pushed yourself clumsily into a seated position. “Especially when you all won’t let me stay asleep. I thought you guys were working on the nursery.”

“We finished. Having two super soldiers on the job makes painting easy work,” said Sam.

“Sam did most of the hard stuff,” Steve put in. “Then we came down to eat and found you passed out here. Buck nearly had a heart attack.”

“You look fine to me. Let’s get cooking. I’m starving.”

“You’re the only one speaking my language, Wilson,” Tony said, and the two of them disappeared from view.

Steve lingered only a little longer to smirk at the embarrassed color on Bucky’s face. Then he, too, wandered off to “help” the other two in the kitchen.

“Did you really think I was dead?” you asked your husband.

His color deepened. “Of course not.”

“Really?”

“I was only worried. You haven’t been out that hard in weeks.”

“You big old worrywart.” His typical retort about not being old was cut short by your suddenly lifting your ups to him. “Hold me?”

“I can’t.”

And here he’d been giving you a serious case of the warm fuzzies—or heartburn. Hard to tell through all the other pregnancy symptoms sometimes. You dropped your arms and scowled.

“Yes, you can. We’ve been over this. I’m not all fragile like Steve was before he got his muscle juice. You aren’t going to hurt me.”

Someone in the kitchen—Steve, probably—snorted while Bucky shook his head.

“No, [Name]. I literally can’t hold you. Your force field’s been up since we found you here.”

“Oh. That explains the Hulk Prod.”

This was yet another “fun” pregnancy symptom: Your powers were all out of whack. Luckily there wasn’t much of anything trying to attack you in your day-to-day life in the tower (Steve having officially benched you ages ago), so you weren’t constantly flinging people and objects across various rooms. Your protective bubble, however, kept popping whenever it damn well pleased. Since it had never been linked to your mood before, Bruce theorized that your hormones were messing things up. There was nothing to stop it until the twins were born.

You struggled to shove the field away for a moment before lifting your arms up to Bucky for a second time.

“There. Now will you hold me?”

“If you insist.“

He sat down next to you, carefully shifting you around until you reclined across his lap. It wasn’t long after that that you’d looped your arms around his neck. Thank God he had super soldier thighs, otherwise he’d probably have needed to look into a pair of mechanical legs after you finished cuddling with him, too. Having his wife replaced with a fleshy whale must have been hard on him, but he hadn’t said a single thing about your weight the entire time.

“You know he’s just going along with that to get out of cooking, right?” Sam asked.

“I don’t care,” you announced, and kissed Bucky full on the mouth.

Never one to shy away from public displays of affection, he kissed you right back. It might have been a nice little moment. Might have been. If Tony hadn’t broke in with:

“Get a room, would you?”

“You get a room,” you said.

“The entire tower is my room. Seeing Barnes kiss someone is one step away from watching Steve kiss someone. You really want to put me off my dinner?”

“Hilarious,” said Steve.

“Spoil sport,” you muttered, but the moment was over. Wasn’t like you could do much more to Bucky given your present condition anyway. It was just nice to know your husband wasn’t entirely disgusted by your appearance every once and awhile.

As if he could read your mind, Bucky moved his hands down to your enormous belly. “How are they?” he asked.

“Busy. They kick more and more every day. Not too sure they’re going to get along once they’re out here.”

“We’ll have to fix that, won’t we? We’ll ground them for a week after they’re born.” He kissed you again, this time on the tip of your noise.

“Isn’t it about time we give them names? So we don’t have to talk about them collectively?”

“I already told you, we’ve got their names.”

“And I already told you we aren’t naming our daughter Sarah until you’ve cleared it with Steve.”

Bucky didn’t take his eyes off of you, just lifted his voice to say, “Hey, Steve!”

“Yeah?”

“[Name] and I are naming our daughter after your ma!”

“Wha—”

“Steve says it’s fine.”

You couldn’t entirely stifle your laugh. “He did not.”

“It’s fine, [Name].  Mom would have liked that,” Steve said. He sounded amused as well.

“And the boy’s Beck, after my sister,” said Bucky, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. “Sarah and Beck.”

“Sarah and Beck,” you repeated.

This must have been encouragement enough to confirm the matter for Bucky. He grinned, leaned toward your massive stomach, and said, “Hey. Sarah. Beck. Stop fighting. Your parents don’t approve.”

In reply—or retaliation—one of them kicked. Bucky’s grin grew wider still.

“Told you they were busy,” you said.

He laughed, kissing you once more. It was the best evening you’d spent in weeks. Even Bucky seemed happier and more optimistic that night. Being an Avenger always seemed to complicate your personal life, but just then you felt that it just might make having kids even better than having them as a normal person would have.  

[step-on-me-khun]

Steamy smut where reader is undercover and khun knows and trys to tease answers out of her dom khun and bondage?

Welp, I suppose I could try to at least write this. 

🔞 No minors +18 only pls 🔞

SFW/NSFW

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 2411

What could you say about Khun? That was was clever, a genius even. Not much got past him. He knew how to manipulate any situation. It made your heart race at times, seeing him calmly plan out his next move. He was like a spider, trapping a fly in his web.

He kept you on your toes. Challenged you whenever something questionable escaped that mouth of yours. It wasn't hard for you to fall under his trap, become ensnared. Everything he did, no matter how little, made you fall for him fast. It was against everything you were said to do.

You had to be just as manipulative as him. One little slip-up, and you would expose the reasons you were tagging along. It was a dangerous game you were playing with him. But it made it all the more fun. Just as you thought he found out, your adrenaline rose. There was a fire in both of you. Then he would tease you, asking why you're all het up and anxious.

Of course, your relationship grew. All the secrets you kept, all the tension that came along with those secrets. Why wouldn't you want to release all the stress? Being associated with FUG and not having Khun know was torturous for both of you.

Your head was spinning, wondering what Khun thought as his steely blue eyes glared down into yours.

Your knees were up at your chest, hands tied together right under the back of your knees.

Khun was always unfair in situations like this. He liked being in control.

You were lying on your back naked, not too far from the headboard. It was unfair for you as you were in a vulnerable position, clothless, your bare core displayed fully. The worse thing was Khun, though. He was enjoying seeing you like this. He likes the way your face looked, all flustered. The slight annoyance and embarrassment made you close your eyes and bite down harshly on your lower lip.

His long slender fingers were hardly doing anything to you, but his thumb would sometimes gently and slowly rub your clit, making you jolt a little as the pleasure of it got to you.

Small whines and squeals would leave your mouth. You were unable to cover your face as your hands were still tied.

"Just tell me what I need to know, then I'll let you have what you want,"

"I told you," you start explaining, rocking yourself from side to side to try to get yourself up, "I'm not with anyone. You're delusional if you think I am,"

There was nothing that could stop him from being as torturous as he was now. His index finger and thumb found your bundle of nerves above your entrance and squeezed down hard on it. An electric-like feeling shot right through you.

You could hear Khun chuckling. It was clear that he was enjoying this.

Your eyes began to water. Khun's hand moves away from you for a moment.

"Make it easier for both of us and tell me who sent you here to spy on us. I'll even reward you if you tell me everything," Khun was so damn confident that he would eventually get what he wanted out of you.

All the desperate movements you were doing did nothing to help your situation. Just as you thought you could move onto your front, Khun quickly turned you on your back again.

Fuck, this was bad. Both dread and adrenaline burst inside you. Once Khun wanted something, it was more or less impossible to stop him from getting what he wanted.

You tried to scream, but Khun's hand instantly moved and covered your mouth.

"Bad girl," he taunts, "the more you struggle, the worse it'll be for you,"

You cry against his hand. His eyes were so dark and beautiful, just like the sky was as night. But God knows what emotions lay behind those blue eyes of his.

It wasn't unusual to see him dominant; he naturally was that. Anyone who knew him knew that he liked it when things went his way. Your relationship grew like that, too. He was handsome; you couldn't deny that. He made you feel a whole new range of emotions, even making you love him.

But he was right that you were spying on the team. You were with FUG. Telling him was one thing you didn't want to do. There were times where you anxiously thought about doing just that, but your mind switched off as you began talking to him more. You were playing a dangerous game. All you had was the hope that you could abandon FUG and continue to climb the tower with these newfound comrades of yours.

You were hesitant on talking to any FUG members. It didn't matter who they were. If they knew you and your situation, they could jeopardise everything.

Seeing Khun like this, towering above you, his hand slowly move away from your mouth. His presence was enough of a threat to most people.

He wanted to try something different with you. There was no doubt that he could be rough when he chose to be. Most of the time, he was.

--

One arm wrapped around you as you entered the room, the other around your collarbone, hand covering your eyes.

"Why don't we try something a bit different, huh?" His mouth whispers into your ear. His voice was low and husky. The situation you were in and the mouth breathing onto your ear was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You had no clue what he was thinking of doing, but you had a bit of an idea. He wanted to tie you up and use you. Just the thought of it made you bit your lip.

"Do what you want to me," you say, a little nervously.

He chuckles into your ear then lets go of you, pushing you forcefully onto the bed.

--

If you knew he was going to be like this, then you wouldn't have agreed.

His long slender finger poked inside you slowly, gradually moving in and out of you at a torturous pace. A thumb found its way to your clit again and rubbed it just as slow as his fingers entered you.

Your eyes were close to spilling, not through pain but Khun's slow and annoying movements.

"Why are you teasing me like this? It's too much," you cry, your teeth biting on your lips to suppress your moans.

"Come on now, (Y/N)," Khun teases, a smirk lining his pale face, "I know you're working with someone if you tell me who it is, I'll stop teasing you,"

"How many times do I have to say I'm not working with anyone!" You cry, nearly screaming.

But it did nothing. Khun's fingers still rubbed your walls slowly.

You remained quiet, hoping and waiting for a release to come. It would make this situation better for you if Khun let you come just once and relieve yourself of the intense pleasure he was giving you.

A knot built up in your stomach. You knew it was coming, even if it was slower than your most releases.

Your body began to shake. Khun could feel your walls contracting around his fingers. He knew what you were about to do.

"Nice try," he says, pulling his fingers out and bringing them up to his face, "but if you want to come so much, you're going to have to tell me everything,"

"You're such a fucking prick," you sob quietly.

You heard him chuckle. He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking your wetness off them. He was doing everything he could to make you feel more and more aroused.

It wouldn't take too much to have you bursting into tears over the sensation that just left your body.

"Oh, (Y/N)." He coos, his hand smacking your core harshly, causing you to jolt up and nearly scream. "You can deny it all you want. I've got patience. I could leave you like this all day. If you don't like this that much, you can always tell me why you're here. I'll even keep quiet about it and not tell anyone else in the team,"

But would he? He was toying with both your mind and your body. You wanted it over.

His hand slaps your core two more times, his finger and thumb pinched on your clit again.

"You can take all the time you want to think it over. I'm not going to stop teasing you until you cave in and tell me everything,"

There was so much going on in your mind. You could either: give in and tell Khun everything, or you could try to hold out for as much as possible and see how much more you could handle from him. But he was persistent. He could go on for the whole night if he wanted to.

It was all too much to have it go on for the entire night. You wanted it over.

He was manipulating you. It was too humiliating. But it was also something that made your arousal rise.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone," you beg.

"I will, once you've told me everything,"

"Khun, please,"

One of his hands was on the tie that wrapped around your wrists. His other hand was flat against your lower region. He gave your core another smack. He didn't want to waste any more time with you like this.

"I work with FUG," you said silently, hoping he could hear you.

"Hmm? I didn't quite get that," he teases, smacking your thigh instead.

"Fuck you," you cry, "I said I work with FUG,"

He tuts and smirks before looking you in your eyes. "I could've guessed that,"

"If you had your doubts, you could've confronted me instead of doing all this,"

"And what fun would that be?" He turns you on your side, the side of your ass in front of him. He stops smacking your core and thigh and moves his hand to strike your ass.

"Stop it," you cry quietly.

"Why did FUG want you to spy on us?"

You sighed, wanting him to untie your hands. "Can you undo your tie? I'll tell you if you let me go,"

"Nice try, but I'm not easy to negotiate with," his hands move away from you. His eyes stared at your body as you tried to squirm around.

"It's you,"

"Me?"

"Yes. You're part of the Khun family, one of the families closest to Jahad. You could be a threat in the future,"

He smirks and chuckles at you again. "Would you say I'm a threat now?"

"Yes,"

"That's brave of you. But do you mean that in terms of Jahad, or are you referring to the situation you're in?"

His hands untie your wrists, letting them and your legs fall slowly on the bed.

"I'm on about what you just did to me. I still love you and don't ever want to leave you,"

His body towers over yours again. You were still on your side.

"I promise not to tell anyone, as long as you don't keep any more secrets from me, that is," he says as he lines himself up with you and thrusts inside you roughly.

You let out a hiss as he sets up his pace. The ordeal he had you in before left you a little sensitive. His hands were on you, one at your thigh, the other at the back of your neck.

All the frustration he felt from you keeping everything to yourself, he released on you right now.

You felt a sting as his fingers and nails dug into the skin of your leg and neck.

His teeth bit down on his lip. He was so focused on making you feel all of his annoyance and frustration.

"Oh, fuck," you cry, snapping him out of his thought cycle.

His hips snapped into you roughly. The slapping of your skin and the moans that escaped your mouth sounded so heavenly to him.

Both his hands move to your waist, holding you steady as he picked up pace and speed again.

All you managed to do was moans out incoherently. Khun's name would slip out a few times.

"If you promise me that you're not going to keep any more secrets, I'll let you come," he says quietly in between a few hisses and groans.

"Oh my god, dammit. I promise. I won't keep anything from you," you cry, feeling your release rising as Khun continued to thrust inside you.

He leans down, his chest touching your side. His hands move beside your body.

"That's my good girl, that's all I wanted to hear," he whispers into your ear. He turned his hands cold as he moved inside you, finger traced down your spine slowly. You felt a Khun bite down on the shell of your ear.

It was all too much. Khun was doing everything he could so that you would come quickly.

You curl your toes as your wall closed in on him.

A string of groans escapes his mouth, filling your ears as you came on him. His hips continued to snap into you.

His teeth let go of your ear. He gave the skin around your face and neck a few kisses before he too came.

You were both panting messes. Khun's hot breath hit your skin, causing goosebumps.

His body collapses next to yours, arms wrapping around you.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" You ask curiously. "I told you I still loved you,"

He tuts and rolls his eyes, not that you were able to notice.

"Paranoid, are we?" He asks playfully.

You turned to him and glared at his face.

"Would it be bad if I was?"

"Of course it wouldn't," he pulls you closer to you, "if I didn't love you, then I would've left the room by now,"

It was a relief. There was some worry inside that Khun would maybe abandon you and spill everything to everyone. But he clung to you. It was as if his relationship with you was something that wasn't going to risk. You felt as if every worry disappeared from your mind. He was sure that you weren't going to betray him. And you felt the same way about him, that he wouldn't betray you either.

taglist

@unexceptional-h @rizonacigaravenue @aoi-turtle

[valkblue]

Fic Writer’s Tag Game

Thank you @the-blind-assassin-12 for the tag!! 💖

Please state and link/explain the following fics:

What you’d consider your first fic: Well, it would be something that isn't on the Internet, so I can't provide a link, but even if it wouldn't be the first fic I ever wrote, it would be the biggest, and it was an Harry Potter-Marauders Era fanfic. It was unoriginally a story about new students, and following them throughout their seven (and a little more) years at Hogwarts.

Your softest fic: I'm not sure I write soft fics fitting the definition here, but I think it would be my first Westworld fic, Improvisation Only. It's a story I wrote as a birthday gift for @hathorik , in which the park is in perfect working order, all the hosts are just playing their role (more or less), and everyone is just doing their job… save for my OC Vivian who fiddled with Lawrence's code a little, believing nobody was watching. But it's a story in which nobody dies for real, and even the wounds aren't that serious, even if Vivian takes everything very seriously. But she has her reasons… You can discover them here: Improvisation Only, part 1 of Full Diagnostic series (masterlist)

Fic you’re most proud of: I would love to say the entire Full Diagnostic series but, I'll play the game by the rules this time and choose just one story… Then, it would be Journey into Night, the second part of Improvisation Only. It's a 300k long, season 2 divergent story packed with canon and original characters, action, mysteries, horror, investigation, a fuckton of angst, quite a bit of humor and a faint whiff of romance. It took me almost two years to write it all (2 years+ with Impro) but it was also thrilling to write! Painfully hard, but still, I loved each and every words I wrote in it, and loved to write all these characters (canons or not)… and I made myself very sad in the process of writing it. But also cry with joy. The story starts (post prologue) right at the end of season 1, during Ford's Gala, after Dolores killed him on stage. Vivian is hidding from the hosts but one of them finds her anyway… and from then, she's trying to stay alive. If you want to know how and want to cry too, it's here: Journey into Night, part 2 of Full Diagnostic series (masterlist)

Fic which shows your progress: I don't write a lot of fic? And all my other stories are original ones, and obviously not on tumblr or AO3, so... I'm tempted to say Journey into Night here, too. In this story, I used all that I learned since I started writing my first big novel, and following so carefully an established lore was another kind of challenge while usually, my friends and I are creating said lore. But it also liberated some space in my mind to focus on the characters and the plot, plain and simple, and not having to take millenias of History and political and technical progresses into account... Writing a fic is so different from writing an original story sometimes but yeah, it made me focus on how to write the story I had in mind without trying to 'teach' a new lore to the reader while they couldn't just google it or watch/read/play the original media, focusing on characters and their immediate goal, regardless of the grand scheme of things!

Your favorite WIP: My three current WIPs are all from Tales of Clan Mudhorn, but my favourite one would be Lost and Found (WIP #3) which is currently taking all my brainpower. I recently —finally!— finished to write episode 7 and I'm translating it with my betareader. The whole story of Lost and Found is about Din trying to find a Jedi to take care of the Child and train him… but it's as impossibly hard as he thought it would be upon leaving Nevarro. I love writing Din and how driven he is, exploring his relationship to his Creed, to the people around him, to the Child and his regret over leaving his original Covert and all the people in it. It's a story tied to my Foundlings one-shot (which would stand as the first part/Prologue of the whole series really), written in 'episodes' format like the show, which sometimes makes big 'chapters' but one chapter is one full story you can enjoy in almost one sitting, leading to the next like you wait for the next episode the following week. Well, except that it takes me longer than a week to write, translate and illustrate one chapter-episode, obviously... But you can read the six first I already posted here while I'm working on 7 and 8: Lost and Found, Tales of Clan Mudhorn (masterlist)... and also, The Foundlings if you're curious.

Tagging: @pheedraws , @amistrio , @queen-scribbles , @nostrategy-justdo , @hathorik , @fatesrpg , @something-tofightfor

[kakashiswilloffire]

Friend Killer Kakashi

ao3

words: 2.2k

warnings: angst, mention of gore, mention of vomit, no comfort

He was ready to crawl out of his own skin. His whole body flushed with waves of heat, prickling uncomfortably in his chest, like thousands of pins jabbing both inside and outside of himself. He stopped, gripping the counter to hold himself steady while he dragged shallow breaths into his lungs. He knew he needed to take a deep breath, he was telling himself to take a deep fucking breath, even just one, why can’t he just even breathe correctly, how the fuck was he supposed—

The sound of his fist interrupted him before he’d even realized he had struck out. Knowing it would be several minutes before the pain really set in, he smacked his hand against the counter again and shook his head viciously. Silver strands, oilier than he usually let them get, stung as they met skin while the weight of his hair shifted.

He sucked air thickly into his nostrils then pawed at his nose, grimacing at the spices that overwhelmed the air around him. He tossed the pan into the sink, not caring that it still sizzled or that the oil splashed onto the cold tiles beneath him. He was trying to make pan fried eggplant to go with the premade miso soup he’d picked up last week. It had been a shitty week and he just wanted to make his favorite meal to make everything hurt a little bit less. There was no way it’d be as good as what Gai made, or whatever Dai had done when he first made it for him, but Kakashi figured it would do, and since it would be the first thing he had cooked himself all week, there should be some sense of achievement and dopamine to relish in when it was done. Unfortunately, it had gone terribly.

He couldn’t remember exactly what spices went on the eggplant. Salt, pepper, minced garlic, and then Gai would riff from there. Kakashi hated that—he was fine as long as he could follow a recipe. Gai, however, could just pour a splash of soy, or a squeeze of lemon, or even a drizzle of honey on anything and it was phenomenal, and also, unrepeatable. He could remember what the version he wanted tonight should taste like, and it didn’t matter what bottles he shook out into the pan, it never smelled right. The oil just kept popping onto his arms and hands, and the eggplant got slimier, and everything started to smell way too strong.

Kakashi Hatake, master of a thousand jutsu, and fucking garbage at cooking.

Whatever.

Running his hand along his forehead, he tried to find a single thought to focus on rather than the swirling mess in his head. Rin’s death a few months ago had hit him hard, much like he had hit her. He knew Gai hated to hear him think like that, but she would be alive if he hadn’t been there. If his hand hadn’t crushed through her chest, her ribs scraping along—

He lurched forward, the smell of the kitchen and the visceral memories getting to him at last. His shoulders jerked erratically as he retched into the tiny sink then sunk to his knees. The cold of the floor helped ground him while he wrapped his muscled arms around his stomach, leaning his head against the cabinet until the room stopped spinning.

Pathetic.

Obito would be absolutely pissed to know this was what he died for.

Gai wouldn’t be back from his mission for at least four more days. Kakashi was on a temporary leave pending the results of the investigation into Rin’s death. Ibiki had tried to reassure him the other day that unofficially it was looking good, and should turn out in his favor soon. He was almost certain to be found not at fault. Kakashi had scoffed—even if that was the official ruling, her murder was entirely his fault.

While they weren’t living together, Gai had taken it upon himself years ago to have a spare key, or maybe several spare keys, to his apartment copied and he kept one in a pocket in that garish green spandex at all times. With everything going on, Gai had been by every other day or so that he was in the village. The couch still had a crumpled blanket at one end he had used the last time he stayed overnight, and the one throw pillow with the Hatake crest that Gai wouldn’t let him get rid of. He tossed it out of his way as he flopped down on his back, letting his legs kick up and rest over the top of the dingy couch.

Why did anyone bother with him? Why would Ibiki go to the effort of leaking confidential information about his investigation to him? Why would Asuma invite him out for drinks every Friday night? Why would Kurenai and Genma leave bottles of sake in his mailbox with notes that everything would be fine? Why would Gai.. anything relating to him?

He couldn’t even hold the memories back long enough to successfully make dinner. He hadn’t even reheated the miso soup, and that was only two steps. He couldn’t save Obito, he couldn’t save Rin, he couldn’t convince Gai to leave well enough alone.

What if Gai was next?

Fuck.

He couldn’t let Gai be next. There were a lot of things he had failed at, but damned if he wouldn’t succeed in this. He could not, under any circumstances, let Gai any closer, any further into his life. The further away he could get the overly-enthusiastic shinobi, the better.

He nodded, swinging his legs around to the edge of the couch and letting that propel him into a seated position from which he sprang up. He walked over to the tiny end table and wrenched open the single overstuffed drawer, digging through for a pad of paper and the first writing instrument he could find, a blue pen with the academy’s logo printed on it.

Gai—

I don’t know how to tell you this, but you have to stay away from me. It’s for your own good. No one close to me is safe, even from me.

Sorry. Please understand.

—Kakashi

He read over the messily scrawled note, then tore the sheet off the pad and crumbled it in a fist. There’s no way Gai could read that and not have about a billion questions. Especially with how they had relied on each other through the years, from Dai’s death to Rin’s, this wouldn’t be remotely good enough to get Gai to stay away.

He sat down on the couch again, tapping the pen absentmindedly against the faded lined paper. What do you say to someone to convince them to be done with you completely?

When the key scraped into the lock, he froze.

The door swung wide open, Gai slumping into the apartment. His jumpsuit was nicked and torn and his hair didn’t have its usual luster. He was clearly exhausted, though not chakra exhausted. Kakashi felt the familiar pangs of panic begin to hit—how was he back so soon?

“Hey, ‘Kashi. The client blew the mission terms totally out of proportion—he made it seem like it’d be almost an A rank, and instead it was like a grueling C rank. We’re still not sure if the pay will be adjusted accordingly, but Ebisu is arguing it shouldn’t be because we did still run into trouble—Stone ninja near the border tried to take Chouza out. Recognized him somehow, but no worries, Konoha’s magnificent Green Beast was on the scene and we handled them without any major issues.” He grinned and flexed, posing for a moment before relaxing now that he had reached his destination and sliding his vest off and onto the hook by the door.

“How have you been? You eaten yet? Yakiniku is running a special according to Chouza—he asked me to join him for a post-mission meal and I told him I’d have to swing by here and see if you wanted to tag along. You like their short rib, right? Or are you still on the vegetarian kick?”

It never failed to impress Kakashi how Gai could fill a space, whether it be with his words, his personality, or his posing. No matter how he did it, though, it always was genuine and warm, and it was nearly impossible to maintain the solemn composure he frequently fronted. They made a nice contrast as a pair. Shame they would never have the chance to explore the friendship further.

He looked down at the crumpled paper on the ground and kicked it under the couch, setting the pad and pen aside. Unfortunately, he was going to have to explain in person.

He walked past Gai without making eye contact, the other man stepping out of his way without resistance. He lifted the vest off the hook next to his own vest, brought it briefly to his own chest, and immediately regretted it when the scent of his rival slammed into him. Once again, he shook his head vigorously, then shoved the vest back at Gai.

“Get out.”

He laughed, taking the vest back and slipping it on without understanding. “Want yours as well?” he asked, reaching for the door.

Kakashi felt flushed again, realizing that Gai meant for them to get dinner together. He walked back into the small living room, keeping his back to the door.

“Don’t need it. Get out.”

Gai’s laugh died in his chest, questions rising to the surface. “I… You okay? Did something happen while I was gone? Your investigation results? I told Ibiki to send word if they made the announcement, that asshole—”

“No, Gai. Nothing happened. I just…” Kakashi swallowed and felt his heart frost over. “Just did some thinking. Realized I’m better off without you.”

He scoffed. “Very funny, Kakashi. Come on, grab a jacket or something, Chouza said he’d wait on me to get back.”

“I mean it, Gai. You’re holding me back. The stupid challenges, do you think I actually care? I’ve always been stronger than you, and now that I’ve got the Sharingan, it’s comical, competing against you. I can see all your moves from miles away. You broadcast like a bull. You’re loud, annoying, and a useless ninja. I want you out of my life.”

There was silence for more than a full minute. It might have been as long as the two of them had gone without speaking, ever. Then Gai crossed to Kakashi in two steps, grabbing his left shoulder and spinning him around to face him.

“I know you’re not saying all that ‘cause you mean it, Kakashi. Look me in the eyes and think about this.”

Kakashi steeled himself, making full eye contact with the single grey eye. “Why don’t you think about it, Gai? Honestly? What kind of a ninja can’t even use ninjutsu? Everyone’s just humoring you and letting you make a fool of yourself. You’re a walking lesson in how to not be a shinobi.”

Gai blinked hard, his eyes beginning to shimmer. He cocked his head to the side, his grip on his rival’s shoulder only strengthening.

“’Kashi, I know things are hard for you. I know your brain lies to you sometimes. It’s okay. Listen, we’ll stay here tonight, I’ll cook, we can watch a movie or something, I’ll keep watch so you can sleep and we’ll talk more in the morning. There’s no pressure. I care about you, Kakashi. Let me help you.”

His eyes were swimming now, the passion making tears roll slowly down his face. The silver-haired man refused to move or answer. Swallowing, he made one last effort to persuade him. “Kakashi… please. Don’t do this. I love you.”

Kakashi’s heart, freeze dried, now shattered, crumbling into a powder and blowing away on a light breeze. Of course Gai loved him, and he loved Gai, but could Gai really mean that he… could he love him the way?—

Impossible.

No. Of course not. And even if he did, that just put him in all the more danger.

His resolve strengthened, he scowled back. “Fuck off, Gai. A ninja that only uses taijutsu is useless in battle. Don’t you remember how your dad died? Couldn’t save himself, could barely save you. What did you even do to try and help him?”

He was grateful for the fist that slammed into his jaw, shutting him up and knocking him into the wall.

“Fuck off, Hatake.”

He only dimly registered the door slamming, and possibly coming off its’ hinges. After a beat, a glint of silver flew through the air and lodged into the wall directly opposite the door. Slowly, he gathered himself up and limped over to it, realizing with a sharp ache that it was the key to his apartment. Turning to the mirror propped near the door, he stared down the version of him with grey circles under his eyes, thumbing at the blood growing at the corner of his mouth.

Friend-Killer Kakashi was starting to sound more like him by the moment.

[spaceskam]

For Title Tuesday, can I request 2 for Malex? Thank you!

!!!! <3

title tuesday instructions

tags/warnings: the lost decade, angst, negative references to Michael’s Behavior in s2 but no explicit details of things that happened, happy ending

2. the bad years [ao3]

Michael tapped his foot on the ground loudly.

“Stop,” Alex snapped, his hand going to his knee and squeezing. The pressure helped. He started wondering if he could ask Alex to lay on him, but that was probably a bad idea considering they were in the middle of an airport.

Instead, he layered his hand on top of Alex’s and squeezed.

“I don’t have any money or a credit score, but I’ll find a way to take out a loan just to pay you to stay,” Michael told him. However, when Alex looked at him, he had a hurt look in his eye and his eyebrows were drawn together like Michael had just insulted him. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to go. But I’m sorry.”

“It’s not like I want to leave,” Alex said, “I have to. You know I have to.”

“Yeah,” Michael breathed, squeezing his hand and sighing softly, “When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know yet, probably around a year.”

“That’s such bullshit.”

“Yeah.”

Michael stayed there, squeezing his hand until his got cramps. Alex never complained. They waited until Alex had to go to his flight because it was about to board. They stood and Alex hugged him tight, but didn’t give him a kiss. Not here, not in public. And then he was gone.

Michael sat in the airport for another hour, trying to remember how his legs worked.

-

“Are you mad at me?”

“Michael,” Alex said softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. Michael stayed on his knees between Alex’s spread legs, hands gripping his ankles as his mind flooded with thoughts he didn’t want. Such bad timing too. He was always, always, always hit at the worst times. 

“I know, like, objectively you’re not mad at me, but also…”

“Hey,” Alex said, leaning forward until all Michael could see was his face. It was a nice view. “Let’s promise that if we’re ever mad at each other or if there’s anything wrong, we’ll say it. That way there’s no question, how’s that sound?”

“So you do get mad at me sometimes?” Michael clarified. Alex huffed a laugh and bumped his nose against Michael’s softly.

“Everyone gets mad at everyone if they spend enough time together. And I want to spend so much time with you that the bad times pale in comparison, okay?” Alex said. Michael stared at him, trying to breath and stay calm to the best of his ability. It was hard.

“We’re still in the bad times. You’re still going to be shipped off to fuck knows where and I’m still here,” Michael said. Alex slid off the bed and right into Michael’s lap on the floor. He grabbed Michael’s head in his hands and stared at him.

The airstream was too small for this but Michael didn’t want to leave.

“I’m here right now. Three more years and I’ll be here for good.”

Michael swallowed his complaints and nodded, putting his head in the crook of Alex’s neck.

-

“Damn. It’s dusty.”

“Here’s a broom.”

“Oh, so you brought me here to be your maid, I see,” Michael scoffed, accepting the broom anyway, “If I had a head’s up, maybe I would’ve dressed the part.”

“Shut up and sweep,” Alex said, trying his best to smile and failing. Michael accepted it for the joke it was anyway and started sweeping. “God, I can’t believe he left the cabin to me. I wasn’t even his kid.”

“I’m sure he left Kyle somethin’ good. Or maybe not. That’d be funny,” Michael said. Alex rolled his eyes and slowly walked around the couch. Michael didn’t argue when he wrapped his arms around him from behind and effectively made it impossible to sweep. He layered his hand over Alex’s. “He loved you, Alex. That’s what mattered.”

“Yeah, but… A whole cabin?”

“You really find it that hard to believe?” Michael asked. Alex didn’t answer which was enough of an answer in itself. “Now you have somewhere to go that isn’t my airstream.”

“What if I want to just go to your airstream?”

“I’m not gonna kick you out.”

“Good.”

After a little persuasion, Alex took a much needed nap and Michael got to cleaning.

-

“Okay, don’t freak out.”

“Don’t freak out?! You’re calling me and telling me that Alex‒ That he‒”

“He is alive and breathing and that’s all that matters,” Greg said methodically. Michael recognized the tone of voice. The one that Alex did when it was the only thing holding him together. Out of respect for the second most decent member of the Manes family tree, Michael didn’t call him out on it.

“And he’s gonna be okay? Like… after.”

“The surgery went well and he should be able to get a prosthetic leg. There’s always a chance that it’ll hurt him too much or that his nerves will be too sensitive for it or whatever, but, for right now, that’s the route we’re going,” Greg explained.

“But, like, mentally, I mean. Is he gonna be okay?” Michael said. His hand was gripping his leg so tight that when he finally moved it, he had little crescents that his fingernails had left. They looked deep enough to bruise. 

“He’ll be in therapy, but I don’t know past that. Everyone’s different,” Greg said, “But Alex is strong.”

Michael swallowed and took a deep breath. “Yeah. He is. Fuck, I wish I could be there.”

“It’s okay. I’ll let him know you called and tell him that you love him.”

“I didn’t say that,” Michael argued weakly. He hadn’t even said those words to Alex’s face, how fucked would it be if his brother told him that first?

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell him it seemed like you love him. And I’ll text you the address to the nearest florist so you can buy him flowers,” Greg said.

“You’re such a dick.”

“And I’ll send you how to request them in German.”

“Fuck you,” Michael said, sniffling and trying to rub the indents out of his leg, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

-

“I know you loved me. At one point, I know you did.”

Michael felt sick, but he stayed still as Alex kept his eyes on his computer. It was intentional and Michael could tell.

“I still love you.”

“But you did stop.”

“No! No, I didn’t.”

“Then why haven’t you apologized to me?” Alex asked, voice monotone in the same way it was when he was keeping it together. He started typing in code effortlessly as if this conversation didn’t phase him. Thankfully, Michael was fully aware that it did phase him or he probably would’ve lost it. “Every time you’ve apologized to me in my life was over things that didn’t require an apology. Now I want one because you hurt me‒intentionally, as far as I can tell‒and you won’t even say sorry.”

“I am sorry. I was just confused and overwhelmed and I thought it would be better if I‒” 

“I did buy that at one point, but I’m not so sure anymore,” Alex said, sighing and tilting his head to one shoulder and then the other to stretch his neck, “Because you repeatedly showed interest in me when it was convenient for you and then went right back to your girlfriend. That wasn’t fair. I don’t believe that you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I’m sorry, Alex. I fucked up and I know sorry doesn’t fix it, but I want to be with you and I want to make up for it,” Michael said, trying his best to copy him and keep his composure.

He was never as good at it as Alex was.

“Prove it to me then. Show me.”

And that was a challenge Michael was ready to take on.

-

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Wow, you need to expand your vocabulary.”

“You need to get your cold foot out of my pants,” Michael groaned, trying to wiggle away and failing. Alex just snickered to himself like it was the funniest thing.

“My foot is cold and you’re so warm,” Alex said.

“Yeah, but down my pants?” Michael asked.

“Your thighs are, like, the warmest part of you. Trust me, I’ve spent a lot of time there,” Alex laughed, scooting towards him. His hand snaked around and pressed against Michael’s abdomen which just made him hiss again.

“Why are you so cold everywhere?!”

“Because it’s cold outside and you’re a blanket hog,” Alex answered easily, his mouth pressing to the back of his neck. That, at least, was warm. “Warm me up.”

Michael laid there for a few seconds, trying to wake up enough to do just that. He focused on the feeling of his lips on his neck and then turned around, yanking him in all the way. Surprised laughter rang out of Alex’s body and through the air and Michael kissed him harder.

This. This was worth everything.

[sisterspooky1013]

Perfect Opposites, chapter two

Rating: General Audiences

Read it on AO3

Tagging @today-in-fic

You all requested a chapter two, so here it is

I couldn’t forget it if I tried. I’ve turned it over in my memory so many times by now that it comes back to me like a well trained muscle repeating a familiar movement. There were a lot of little moments before that, but this one in particular stands out because it was the first one where I realized that he felt the same way I did.

We were an odd pairing from the start; he a pragmatic, analytical planner and me an idealistic, carefree dreamer. He used to call me a “loose cannon” and at first it was truly meant as an insult, said in a moment of frustration, but over time it became a term of endearment. That first day we worked together, I immediately noticed how handsome he was, tall and blonde with a square jaw and slim hips. He was so stoic, and my attempts to get to know him were met with one-word answers and pleas to focus on our assignment. I knew that I wasn’t bad-looking, and in fact I was quite used to men responding to me readily, so it felt like a fun challenge to try and crack his shell. I wasn’t trying to sleep with him; I was smart enough to know what that would do to my reputation. I was one of the first dozen female field agents to serve and I wasn’t about to blow it for all the others by hopping right into bed with my partner. But I was intrigued by his guarded demeanor, and the more he resisted me the more I wanted to know him. He insisted on calling me Rogers, even though I asked him repeatedly to call me Bridget. At first I called him Harry, but then I started calling him Hansen just to make a point and it stuck. It became a dance; I would tease and flirt with him, he would ignore my advances while we worked a case, and every once in a while he would give me a little something. First, it was little jokes, told so dryly that I had to look for the barely-there smirk on his lips to be sure he was intentionally being funny. Getting him to smile was a game in and of itself, but when I got one it was like magic. He was so beautiful when he smiled, and it became a drug I was always seeking. Over time, little by little, he started to trust me, and confide in me. He turned off the AM radio on our long drives and talked to me, not just about work.

One day he turned to me while we were driving, smiling about some stupid program he’d seen on TV the night before, and I realized that I was in love with him. I can’t say now when that happened, exactly, but in that moment I knew it, and that started the years of pushing it down, of going out with other men and pretending that he wasn’t the only one I wanted. It was so hard and heartbreaking, and I thought about asking to be reassigned dozens of times, but I couldn’t give up on the chance to be near him every day. As different as we were, he complimented me so perfectly that he became my equilibrium, the thing that grounded me to the place I was in space and time. I didn’t know how to exist without him. I was faced with an impossible choice; leave the bureau and try to have a happy life without the other half of my heart, or stay and resign to a life of pining for him across the console of our rental car. Of course there really wasn’t a choice. I could no sooner have left him than I could have chosen not to breathe anymore.

I’ve thought about that September night so many times, I can still remember the way his gingham table cloth felt under my fingertips as I nervously traced its pattern, waiting for the news I had been dreading for the last three years. He’d been seeing someone, and I just knew he was going to tell me it was getting serious, that they were getting engaged. I was afraid that I would cry, and he would ask me why, and then he’d know. He was sitting close, closer than most people would to their coworker, but that’s how we were. And he was telling me about this woman, Donna, and I felt so sick.

“I broke it off with her” he had said, and I looked at him, confused. “It just wasn’t right, Rogers. She’s a nice lady, but it just…it didn’t feel right. She’s not the one.”

I was so flooded with relief that I actually did start crying, and of course he was confused. Why would I be crying because he broke up with his girlfriend? He knelt down in front of me, and he held my hands in his, and he was just so sweet. He was always so sweet with me.

“Rogers, what’s wrong? Are you upset about Donna?”

I didn’t know what else to say, or how else to explain it, so I just nodded.

“I know we seemed like a good match, but she’s not the one. She’s the kind of person I always thought I’d end up with, but I’m realizing that I was wrong about what I wanted. About who I wanted.”

I looked at him then, at his crystal blue eyes. It felt like he was looking straight into my soul. He was searching my face like he was looking for an answer, but didn’t know what the question was.

“Bridget, have you ever just realized all of a sudden that everything you thought you knew was wrong?”

He called me by my first name. I nodded, and I thought of that moment in the car. And he was still looking all over my face, and at my mouth, and it felt like we were suspended in space, adrift in a moment that could never go forward or backward. Stuck until we made a choice. We had to make a choice.

He kissed me then, so softly, and we returned to Earth together, having found new ground. Having found each other. Even though we’d worked together and been best friends for 8 years, something entirely new was born that night, and we spent the next 20 years making up for the 8 we had wasted.

I was thinking about this at my retirement party, while the other agents ate grocery store cake and politely looked at photos of my grandchildren. When Agents Mulder and Scully walked in, I couldn’t suppress my smile. Agent Scully walked over to me with a secret smile on her lips, one she always sent my way when we were in the same room together. We had never spoken of our conversation in the bathroom last year, but she always went out of her way to say hi to me.

“Agent Hansen, congratulations” she said warmly, taking my hand in what felt more like a hand-hug than a handshake.

“Thank you, Agent Scully. I look forward to spending more time with my grandchildren.”

Agent Mulder walked up then. He sure was a handsome man, and somehow seemed to get better looking as the years went by.

“Agent Hansen, the time has come!” He said jovially. “I only wish Harry could be here retiring alongside you, he would have loved this little shindig.” There was heavy sarcasm in his tone; he knew Harry would have hated the fuss.

“You knew Harry Hansen?” Agent Scully asked him with genuine surprise.

“Of course, we worked together in VCU. I liked to give him a hard time. He reminded me a lot of you, actually” he said to Agent Scully with a gentle nudge of his elbow to her ribs.

“Sounds like he was a great guy” she joked, then “we have to catch a flight out for a case, Agent Hansen, but I wanted to come by and say goodbye. It’s been such a pleasure working with you.”

Agent Mulder looked at her a little quizzically, but I understood the meaning behind what she was saying. I shook her hand again, and held it in a little squeeze.

“I hope you’ll remember what I said” I told her, and she nodded once before they turned to leave. I was happy to be retiring, but I would miss watching them together and would always wonder if they ever found their way to each other.

A few months later, I was at the 7-11 picking up donuts for my grandsons when I heard a familiar voice in the next aisle. It was Agent Mulder, on his cell phone.

“Hey, sleepy head… It’s after 9, that’s hardly early… Well what were you doing staying up so late last night?” He chuckled, and the innuendo was clear even from the bit of the conversation I could hear. I felt sadness tug at my heart thinking that he was seeing someone, and how Agent Scully must feel. I knew exactly how she’d feel.

“We’ll I’m getting you breakfast now, and coffee, so hopefully that helps…I was thinking we could go to Annapolis tonight, there’s one of those movie in the park things, we could stop by and see your mom first…because no one in Annapolis knows us, so maybe you’ll actually be willing to be seen in public with me…you know what I mean, outside of work”

I couldn’t help but smile from my hiding spot behind the donut case. He was talking to Agent Scully.

“…well, think about and you can decide later….yes, I’ll be back in 15 minutes, go back to sleep if you want…Love you, bye.”

He paid and left, and an idea started cooking in my head. Annapolis wasn’t that far of a drive, and I didn’t exactly have an active social calendar. I just wanted to see them together again, one more time.

My plan had been to get there early so I’d be sure to catch them as they arrived, but through a combination of traffic, my own poor navigation skills (that had always been Harry’s strong suit) and lack of parking, I walked in to a full lawn and the previews already starting. Thankfully, her red hair was easy to spot and I found a place for my blanket just a few feet behind them. It was a little too close, and made the odds they would see and recognize me higher than I would have liked, but soon enough it was clear that it wouldn’t be an issue. They were in their very own universe, bordered by the ugly brown Aztec blanket they sat on. Agent Mulder was reclined against a cooler with Agent Scully between his legs, leaning against his torso like an Adirondack chair, his arms wrapped around her. He whispered in her ear and kissed her neck as she giggled. They looked more like two teenagers on a date than two federal agents and it reminded me of so many nights Harry and I snuck off for dates in some forgettable city after wrapping up a case, freed from the risk that someone from the bureau would see us together and report our relationship. Those were some of the most exciting times in my life, and watching them now…I felt the tears bubbling up in my eyes. They were happy tears, full of memories and love and hope. Full of the promise of a relationship forged in fire and turmoil, sealed by dedication and hard work. I knew I’d have to go visit Harry the next day and tell him all about it, and remember with him how clumsy and awkward we were in the beginning, peeling each other’s armor away slowly until it was just us, unguarded and vulnerable and the most seen we had ever been by another person, or ever would be again.

By the end of the movie, they were spooned together under the stars, the relative darkness allowing for a kind of public intimacy that would normally be out of place. She had fallen asleep, and Agent Mulder was watching her, tracing a finger along the shell of her ear before placing a kiss to her temple. He sighed and I could hear him whisper to no one in particular “my perfect opposite.”

[demivampirew]

Amelie

Protective-Dad Henry one shot.

Summary: Henry and you had a daughter when you were twenty years old. Now, Amelie is a teenager and has to tell his dad that she’s dating a boy.

Triggers: Talking about sex; young pregnancy (and the struggle of being young parents) - I think those are all the triggers 😁

You can find more of my writings in the Masterlist

Tag list: @lunedelorient @henrythickcavill @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @mary-ann84 @desperate-and-broken @peakygroupie @summersong69 @ivvitm1109 @madbaddic7ed @iloveyouyen @the-soot-sprite @hell1129-blog @whyyoudothistomecavill @thetaoofzoe​ @thereisa8ella​​

- Please, don't make me do this, mom! - Amelie pleaded.

- You want to be treated like an adult, then act like one.- you said with a steady voice.

She looked at you angrily but begging for mercy at the same time but then finally obeyed your order and went into his father's computer room to share the news. As she started to find a way to tell her dad about her new boyfriend, you laid against the door frame to witness the conversation.

- Dad, I ... I... -the teenager began, trying to find the words that seemed to vanished from her head out of fear.

She and her dad were closed and she was the apple of his eyes. From the moment she was born, he went above and beyond to make sure she would have everything she could ever need and want. You two were a great team, making sure she was happy but did not spoil her too much and made her work hard on domestic tasks for her to pay for any unnecessary item she wanted to help her learn about the importance of valuing work.

Having a kid when you were only twenty was a challenge that you hope she would never have to face herself. In your case, you were lucky: you were dating the most wonderful man who saw that pregnancy as a miracle despite the difficulties it may bring with it. He was next to you every second he could and even on those times he had to be in LA as he tried hard to make it in Hollywood -many times he tried to quit and join the Royal Marines so he could support you and the baby, but every time you would encourage him to keep fighting for his dream-job since you were lucky to have a well-paid job as a secretary for your cousin who was a Doctor and thankfully counted with the help of yours and his mom to look after the baby girl while you worked. But, even if you were living apart for months, he would be there one way or another.

The last few years he had been busier travelling around the world, but he remained the same loving father and husband that he had always been.

For someone who would have done anything for his little angel, like renouncing his dream career or even risk his life on the Marines so he could give his family a decent life, it would be hard to digest the fact that she had a boyfriend. He may not be one of those authoritative dads, a controlling father figure, but he was overprotective. He would not shame his daughter for wanting a relationship, but he didn't trust guys. He lived his life in fear of that day in which his princess would found a guy: what if he hurt her when he wasn't around to protect her? What if he wanted her just for sex and broke her heart? Those were some of the worries he has had since she turned fourteen, he knew that this day was likely to happen.

- What's going on, Mel? - he asked worriedly as he stood up from his pc-chair and approached her to cup her face on his hands, inspecting her face to make sure she was ok.

-I... - Amelie took a deep breath and spilt out the words- I have a boyfriend.- she said and closed her eyes of fear - no because she feared he would get violent or anything like that; she didn't want to see the disappointment and pain on his face.

- That can't be possible! No, no, no... you're a little girl! - he exclaimed, frustrated.

- I'm not! I'm fifteen, dad!- she argued.

- Exactly! Fifteen! A baby! - he confirmed.

- I'm only five years younger than you two when you had me.- she replied angrily.

- Darling, I love you, but being a parent at that age wasn't exactly a walk in the park. We struggle a lot to make it work. Do you want to be in our shoes? - he questioned.

- OMG, Dad, stop it!- Mel shouted embarrassed.

- You're the same age that the girl from Taylor Swift's song Fifteen and you know what happened to that girl? She had a boyfriend and he only wanted to have sex with her.- he explained.

At that moment, you chuckled at the fact that he knew so well a Taylor Swift song - probably he got into her music to bond with his daughter who was a big fan of her music. They both looked at you as if they just noticed you there.

- See? I told you I shouldn't have told him!- the teenager reproached you.

- Did you know about this?! - Henry asked you surprised and disappointed. - Anyway, you're not allowed to keep seeing this boy.-he ordered.

- Go to your room.- you asked gently to the girl who was both angry and sad. She was about to cry, you knew it.

After Amelie stormed out of the room, you approached your husband who was now sitting on the chair, lost in his thoughts. You went from behind and leaned to hug him. He placed his hands over yours but didn't speak as he was still caught on the argument he just had with his little princess.

- Why did she have to grow up so fast? - he wondered sadly.

- I know.- you replied softly close to his ear.- You need to talk to her...you need to stop preventing her from seeing this boy or any other person she might want to date in the future.

He turned around to face you. Your eyes on his and vice-versa. His arms embraced you when you sit on his lap to be closer to him to talk more comfortably.

- Look, I know that you think you're doing the best for her and all you want to do it's protect her, but you're doing the opposite by prohibiting her from having a relationship.- you began to explain as you played with the few curls on his hair.- She's not a kid any more...she might be your little angel and she will continue to be so until your dying day. She'll never cease to be your precious Melie, no matter her age. But now, this is an important time in the life of a woman or any person: she's starting to have feelings, desires, dreams, etc and we need to encourage her to pursue them in a safe environment. If you act the way you just did, that won't stop her from dating, but she'll avoid telling you and you risk losing that close bond you work so hard to have. Besides, if she doesn't trust you to tell you she's dating someone because she knows you'll get mad at her, she probably won't share if something bad happens to her, if she's been hurt in any way, because she might believe you blamed that on her and how do you expect to protect your daughter if she doesn't allow you to know about her intimacy.

- But, that's exactly why I don't want her to date! She's young and boys are creeps and only think of sex. What if someone uses her for that o worse, forced himself on her? - he questioned worriedly. He was almost in tears by the thought of somebody hurting his little girl.

- Give her the benefit of doubt. I was around her age when I had my first boyfriend and yes, he was one of those who only wanted me for sex, but I was smart enough to realize that and I left him before anything happened. A lot of my friends and school-mates went through that, some were smart as I was, other not so much but learned an important lesson and few lucky ladies truly found amazing guys who were in love with them. I found you no long after that and you didn't want me only for that, did you?- you asked even though you already knew the answer.

- Of course not, you were everything to me.- he confirmed.

- Don't you think Amelie is special enough for her to find somebody like you?

- I guess.-he replied sighing, defeated.

- Don't lose the bond you have with her. Let her know that no matter what her dad will always be there for her. That she doesn't have to hide anything from you, that eventually, you will be ok with it and that you only want her to be safe.- you advised him. He nodded and then pressed his forehead against yours as he placed one of his hands on your face.

- You two are my entire world.- he said softly.

- I know, baby. And you are mine too.- you replied with a smile.

Henry kissed you and then he went to talk to his daughter while you headed to the living room to replied some work-mails from on your laptop. Later, your daughter came into the room and hugged you.

-Thanks, mom, you're the best!- she thanked you.

- You're welcome, sweetie.- you answered- You have to understand your dad... he's done the impossible to protect you and now he's scared for you because the world is dangerous for us, women, and he was a teen too; he grew up with other boys of that age who weren't as nice and he fears you might found someone that doesn't have the best intentions with you. He wants you to be safe, that's all.- you informed her and she nodded.

On Sunday, you organized for Tyler, your daughter's boyfriend, to come to have lunch with the family so you could meet him officially.

The boy was polite and well-educated. He had impeccable modals for a fifteen-year-old and seemed smart too.

He seemed to be intimidated by your husband, who purposely acted menacing -which made you rolled your eyes and chuckled.

You had to give credits when it's due: the boy not only survived the day with his girlfriend's dad but he actually managed to get him to like him - all things considered. He was a gamer and into comic books and fantasy books, he found something to bond with your husband