#sigh I need august to hurry the fuck up so I can go wander in the woods without being worried about other people killing me and what not

[fulokis]

I miss being able to sit outside and look at the stars

[donutloverxo]

Mobster Steve always ready to shut anyone up by his excessive pda in front of anyone and everyone .. cries .. a dream

Thanks for the request and sorry it took so long. I'm combining this and another anon who asked for a reader standing up for herself hopefully thats okay. Warnings - daddy kink, mob!Steve, misogyny. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

The yelling out 'daddy!' In public but was inspired by @cruelfvkingsummer s sugar daddy!August Walker.

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

*gif is not mine*

"You're gonna have to make a decision someday, cap," Sam chimed in, reminding Steve of the time crunch.

He only hummed in return, having had about enough of working the whole damn week, what's worse was that he couldn't even spend the weekend with you.

His frown quickly softening and turning into a smile when he saw you come out of his car, "Daddy!" you squealed, jumping up and down in excitement as you ran to him and threw your arms around him.

He was taken aback a bit, stumbling back a few steps but he managed to catch you, burying his nose in your hair as you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck.

"I missed you so so much!" you sighed, finally happy to be with him.

He tried to set you down to your feet, so he could get a good look at your face, but you refused to stop clinging to him,"How was your trip, princess?" he asked rubbing your back, which was exposed since you were wearing a flimsy backless dress, he didn't know how he felt about that.

"Oh my gosh!" you squealed again, standing ok your feet so you could look up at him, "We had so much fun! I bought so many new pretty things, hot some for you and your friends too," you blinked.

He hummed, pulling you into him and crashing his lips over yours, he had missed you, it had been less than a week and yet it felt like months. He was well aware of Sam, Bucky, Peter and his bodyguards eyes on you, some of them had the decency to avert their gaze while Sam and Bucky smiled and stared as if they were proud parents.

You giggled, your cheeks warm and head dizzy from the kiss as he let you go.

"Yeah, what'd you get us, princess?" Bucky teased.

Steve shot him a look, knowing that he was only joking but that pet name was reserved for him, only he got the privilege to call you that.

"Ooh! I got you some magnets to put on your fridge and a nice shirt."

"Alright, princess, let's get going or we'll be late," he urged you. Not ready to share your attention with his friends, not after having you back in his arms after so long, and dreading the party you were both going to.

"Did she give you any trouble?" he asked Peter. He had sent the boy with you and your friends to Milan to protect you and make sure that you stayed out of trouble.

"Uh... no, sir. But..." he hesitated, he thought of you as a big sister and would never want to rat you out or get you in trouble, but his loyalty lied with the mob boss, "She might've maxed out your platinum card..."

"Don't worry about that..." he chuckled and thanked him for taking care of you.

"Daddy," you whined, squirming against his side, you had been acting antsy ever since you got in the limo, pressing kisses to his neck and his collarbone, pulling at the collar of his dress shirt, "I missed you sooo much..."

"I missed you too, baby. But we need to talk," he propped your chin up so he could look into your beautiful eyes, "You'll need to be careful with the card from now on. You can't just blow money away just because we have a lot of it."

"Bu... but," your eyes tearing up and your bottom lip wobbling, "I thought what was yours was mine. You said so yourself..." you sniffled, trying to keep your tears at bay, he had told you that when he asked you to leave your shitty studio apartment and move into his brownstone in Brooklyn, he let you decorate the place however you liked and let you have access to his accounts so you let yourself think that what was his was truly yours. "My mom was right..."

"Right about what?"

"She told me never to move in with a guy until I'm engaged. I'm just like... a kept woman for you..."

"No...no...no, honey," he sighed, stroking your cheek, "It is yours. Everything that is mine is yours. Even my heart," he said putting your hand over his heart, "my soul, it's all yours. More than it is mine really."

"And... I'm just looking for a ring, baby. You know I'd be an idiot not to give you my name and make you my wife. But we need to be cautious, what if we spend all our money and don't have any in case of an emergency?"

"All right, that makes sense. I'm sorry, daddy, I promise I'll be careful."

"I know you will, baby. You're my good girl right?"

"Yes," you nodded, clenching your thighs together.

"Are you wet, honey?" he smiled.

"Yes," you giggled. "Will you fuck me right now, please?" pulling your doe eyes so he absolutely won't be able to resist you.

"Not in a moving car, honey," he said, pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb before pushing it in your warm mouth, "I want to take my time with you. I haven't had my most favorite meal in days, so I'll have to do that first, for at least an hour, and then you are good and show me that you deserve it, I'll let you ride my cock."

His words sent shivers up your spine, you gulped, you were bound to be sore tonight. But there was still the matter of your needy pussy, and you weren't patient like your daddy.

"Can I at least suck daddy's cock then?" you requested.

He chuckled, "You just never take no for an answer do you, baby," as you shook your head. He unzipped his pants, pulling his hardening cock out of his pants.

"I'll mess up your hair," he said as you got down to your knees, between his legs, "I don't mind. I want my cummies," you excitedly wrapped your hand around his length, wrapping your lips around his tip.

He pushed your head down, making you gag, "We have to hurry, baby, we'll be there soon..." he moaned as he threw his head back.

He kept fucking his cock into your face, trying not to mess with your pretty hair which was your done up, your makeup was already ruined though, "Here it comes, baby," he warned you before releasing in your mouth.

You swallowed all of out, so that you could impress him and show him that you were his good girl, and because you were looking forward to the, hopefully huge, diamond he was going to buy you.

You were never a huge fan of parties like these, bored out of your mind, you couldn't even talk to anyone, Sam and Bucky seem to have wandered off somewhere while Steve was too busy making small talk that would literally put you to sleep.

"I'm bored," you told him for the tenth time, you would've even stomped your feet and thrown a full blown tantrum if you weren't aware of everyone's eyes on you, "And my feet hurt from these heels."

"I told you to wear something sensible, doll," he sighed. "Just an hour or so more and then I'll give you a foot massage, okay?"

You only huffed, four inches were more than sensible, you were going to wear the killer eight inch stilletos you bought in Italy with your friends but didn't knowing he'll scold you for it.

"Whatever," you mumbled.

Walking towards a group of women, who looked like they were mob wives and mob mistresses, you could talk to them to kill time.

'She's such a gold digger, I've heard Rogers has a lot of money.' You stopped in your tracks as you heard one of them say.

'You have to be hot to be a gold digger,' another voice snickered.

"Oh shit, I think she heard us..." she whispered as they both looked at you.

"Hello," you gave them a sweet smile, "were you both talking about me?"

"Yeah..." the blonde girl, Stacey you recalled her name was, "It's only the truth," she shrugged. "Nothing wrong with it, go get that money, girl!" She tried to salvage it but the damage was done.

"I think you're mistaken," you said as you propped your hand on your hip, "I'm not a gold digger. I love Steve and I do like how rich he is, but I'd love him even if he didn't have the money. Is it possible that you were projecting your own Insecurities on me? You're the one who wishes your man would leave his wife for you, not me. I'm going to be Mrs Steve Rogers. So you should watch how you speak about me if you know what's good for you."

She was about to quip back but then you felt his arm around you, "Good evening, ladies," he said to the small group of women, "Mind if I steal my fiance for a second?" he asked.

They all stared dumbfounded as he whisked you away.

"Not gonna lie, I would've loved to rescue you and be your knight," he told you as you both walked towards your limo, ready to end the night. "But I'm still so proud of you. You're my sweet strong girl."

"You'll always be my hero, daddy. No matter what."

[platypanthewriter]

At the End of his Rope

Day Three of Harringrove AUgust, prompt:  Kink AU.  Billy thinks he's not welcome at the Harrington house for anything but sex, until Steve ties him to the damn couch and convinces him otherwise.

Billy had lingered, after they fucked, and Steve wasn’t used to that. 

He sat cross legged on the foot of the bed, studying Billy’s sleeping face, and watching his fingers curl, and his eyelids twitch.  

There were bruises on Billy’s forearms—fingermarks—and Steve didn’t know when they were from, or where, but he kept thinking he’d have seen them in the showers if they’d been there in school, and he knew Billy’d driven straight home.  

Billy’d given Max a ride straight home, Steve told himself, clenching his fingers in the blanket, and then he’d called from the gas station to ask if he could come over.  The gas station by Steve’s house.  Steve bit his lips hard, imagining Billy dialling, afraid Steve would say no.  

The bed creaked as Billy’s feet twitched again—he’d put his clothes and shoes back on before he’d sat down, glancing at Steve’s face.  He’d said he was going, and then slept through the night, shivering on top of the blankets.  Steve got up and pulled the comforter over him, and sat in the desk chair, wondering whether he dared go out and get them some bagels, or something, something that wasn’t canned chili for breakfast.  

He suspected Billy would be gone before he got back. 

Billy rolled over, kicking a leg out, and nearly fell on the floor as Steve muffled a snicker and pushed his legs further onto the bed.  

Steve had tucked Billy in again, and he was leaning on his desk, watching Billy’s eyebrows knit as he mumbled, when his hand brushed the boot laces he’d bought to replace the ones in his ski boots.  Steve considered, a grin creeping across his face, and then tied one of the bootlaces in a bow around Billy’s wrist and the bedpost.

When Steve returned with coffee and bagels, Billy was yelling from upstairs.  

“What the hell, Harrington,” he shouted, and Steve ran up the stairs with breakfast, grinning.

“Good,” he said proudly, “—you’re still here.”

Billy was still under the covers, holding his arm so the bow hung loose, and frowning at it.  “What is this.”

“I was hoping you’d still be here when I got back,” Steve told him, holding out a coffee.  To his amusement, instead of untying the shoelace, Billy pulled his other hand from under the covers to accept the coffee, smirking.

“I’m still here.  Is that ‘cause I’m a good, good boy?”

“You could just untie it,” Steve told him, laughing.  

“I dunno, does that mean I have to leave?” Billy asked.

“I could tie you up downstairs,” Steve offered, his face reddening at the bizarre conversation.  “Tie you up so you stay.”

“You’ll have to untie me first,” Billy said, tugging lightly at his wrist, and Steve grinned wider, because even one-handed, it would have been so easy for Billy to yank the lace loose.  

“Don’t run off, now,” Steve told him, reaching over to untie it.  “I got you a bagel.  Poppy seed.”

“...you’re gonna leave my hands free to eat the bagel, huh?” Billy asked, his ears as red as Steve’s felt.

“Yeah, you’re free until you’re done eating,” Steve declared, thinking as he chewed.  “After that I’ll tie you to the couch,” he said, daringly, and Billy snorted a laugh, grinning around his bite of bagel.  

 As soon as they were done eating, Steve crawled up the bed and kissed him, yanking at his clothes until he had Billy naked, sprawled across his bed, jacking himself with a smug grin.  

Steve yanked his own jeans off and scrambled on top of him.  

 When they finally rolled apart, sweating and panting for air, Billy swung his legs off the bed and started gathering his things.  He pulled his button-down off from where it had caught on the thumbtack holding the car poster on the wall, and raised his eyebrows at Steve.  

“Mind if I grab a shower?” he asked, and Steve waved him towards it, barely awake.  He rolled to watch Billy’s ass as he walked towards the bathroom, cataloging things he’d noticed, like how Billy’s grin was wider before sex than after, and how when Steve tried slowing his hand on Billy’s cock, drawing it out, Billy squirmed and swore, but didn’t complain.  

“Don’t you want me to hurry?” Steve had asked, but Billy had shaken his head, gasping for breath.

“Take your...time,” he panted, like no teenager ever, Steve was fairly sure.  “I can...last.”

 “You should stay,” Steve shouted into the bathroom.  “It’s the weekend, you can just stay.”

“You don’t want me around forever,” Billy laughed, and Steve firmed his jaw, rolling over to swing his legs off the bed.  He wiped the jizz off himself fast in the bathroom sink while Billy asked whether Steve was gonna get pissy if Billy stole some shampoo.

“It says you’re supposed to shampoo twice and then condition,” Steve told him, buying some time, and Billy laughed.  “Do it right,” Steve commanded, and Billy waved over the top of the shower stall.

“Yeah, yeah, as you wish, shithead.”

 While that kept Billy busy, Steve ran down the stairs to rifle the garage for the bright white rope he used to tie things to the roof of his car.  It was pretty soft, he thought, rubbing his thumb on it, and flushing as he imagined Billy squirming to test his knots.

When Billy wandered down, Steve grabbed his shirt by the collar, and kissed him.  “D’you really have to go,” Steve asked, and Billy shook his head, panting.  

“I just,” he said breathlessly, biting his lips.  “There’s probably shit I should do around the house—”

“Do you…” Steve pulled his other hand from behind his back, with the rope in it, and threw a loose loop over Billy’s head, pulling it tight around his shoulders.  “Do you want to go,” he asked, and Billy’s ears reddened as he stared back.

“No,” he whispered, grimacing, and Steve tugged him into the front room, and pushed him down on the couch.  

“I was serious, before,” he said, and Billy laughed, grinning disbelievingly up at him.  

“What, you want me here?  All damn day?”

“Longer than that,” Steve told him, rolling his eyes as he tossed the rope end around the back of the couch, and crawled to grab it and pull it under.  

“I bet your neighbors wouldn’t even hear me if I screamed,” Billy said, squirming, with a considering look on his face.  “Nothing I can do.  Gee.”

“You don’t wanna scream,” Steve snorted, wrapping another loop around Billy’s wrists, and grinning as Billy took a shaky breath.  “You didn’t even untie the shoelace.”

“And you didn’t even praise me,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes.  

“You got a treat,” Steve told him, unable to keep from snickering.  He leaned in for a kiss, and got lost in kissing Billy’s grin, and feeling the heat in his cheeks.  

The rope around Billy’s upper arms and chest was against bare skin where his shirt was open.  Steve ran his finger along it, feeling it for roughness, and watching Billy flush clear down to his waist.  Billy’s arms worked against the loop around his wrists, testing the strength of Steve’s knots, but Steve had tied many a mailbox and street sign on the roof of his car in a hurry, and he just waited as Billy’s muscles flexed.  

“You want out, tell me,” Steve said, and Billy snorted a laugh, shivering.  “Until then, you’re right where I want you,” Steve told him, pulling him down so his head was lying in Steve’s lap. 

“...wait, you aren’t gonna fuck me?” Billy asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I know you’ll stay for that,” Steve told him.  “It’s after that I need to tie you to the damn furniture.”

“...okay,” Billy said, watching him, and Steve ran a finger over his eyebrows, exploring his face, since they had the time.  

“Maybe later I’ll fuck you like this,” Steve suggested, grinning, and Billy groaned, rolling to bury his head against Steve’s stomach. 

“If I’m a very good boy,” he muttered, laughing.

“I mean,” Steve said awkwardly, feeling like he was talking to a dog, “—you always are.”

Billy laughed shakily, his breath warm through Steve’s shirt.  He was heavy, but he was getting more comfortable as he slowly relaxed.  

“You’re doing good,” Steve told him, his mouth on cruise control as he stroked his fingers through the soft curls around Billy’s bright red ears.  “You’re so good for me.”

 Once Billy was dead asleep, Steve untied him, because it looked uncomfortable, but when Billy awoke, he felt for the ropes.  

“You done, I guess?” he muttered, and Steve grabbed his head and kissed him.

“Dumbass,” Steve told him, and Billy snorted a laugh.  Steve sighed.  “What, I gotta keep you tied up forever, or you’re gonna run?  Fuck you too.”

“No,” Billy said, grinning kinda softly.  “I just…”

“Gonna have to learn to lasso you I guess,” Steve groaned.  “Like a cow.”

“Shit, yeah,” Billy breathed, and Steve burst out snickering, yanking him closer.  Billy laughed too, shaking his head, and Steve rolled them against the back of the couch so their legs flailed.  Billy was warm and heavy, shaking with laughter, and his ears were hot against Steve’s cheek.

 He didn’t come back for nearly two weeks, until he banged on the door at nearly midnight, and Steve opened it to see bruises, again, more than one, all up the side of Billy’s face.  

“What the hell,” he breathed, yanking his boyfriend inside.  

“Fuck,” Billy said, panting.  His eyes were shiny with angry tears, and Steve pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.

“What happened,” Steve whispered.

“Not your problem,” Billy said flatly, and Steve set his jaw.

“Okay,” he said.  “You...you hungry, or anything?”

“No,” Billy snorted.  

“You gotta piss?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows, and Billy cocked his head, frowning.

“I’m not a fucking toddler—”

“Good,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s wrist and hauling him upstairs.  He pushed him down on the bed—Billy laughed, startled—and then knotted the rope around his wrists and the bedframe.  “Okay,” Steve said, trying to sound sure of himself, as Billy stared at him, his face starting to flush.  “You’re gonna do as you’re told in that, right?”

Billy yanked at the ropes, reddening further, and nodded.  “Yeah, I’ll be good,” he said hoarsely.  “You got some punishment for me, Harrington?”

“Tell me how you got the bruises,” Steve ordered, and Billy tensed.  “You said you’d be good,” Steve reminded him, and Billy squirmed, his eyes going red and wet again.  He was also hard as a rock, Steve could see where his jeans bulged, but so was Steve.  He told himself to ignore it, and ignore the way the muscles were working in Billy’s arms, and the way Billy’s back arched as he yanked harder at the ropes.  

“I’m just disappointing,” Billy gritted out.  “Indiana was supposed to be a new start.  New Billy Hargrove.  I can’t...make it stick, I guess.  I’m still Billy fucking Hargrove,” he said, with a forced laugh.

“What happened,” Steve pressed, reaching out to squeeze Billy’s hand, and he stopped yanking at the rope, taking a shaky breath.

“I’m rude, and disrespectful, and dumb as—” he started, watching Steve’s face, and Steve lunged closer and clapped a hand over his mouth, before he could say anything else.

“Billy,” he tried again, “—what happened to your face.”

“I’m telling you,” Billy hissed around Steve’s fingers, pulling his knees up and curling more on his side.

Steve shook his head.  “Tell me how your face got banged up,” he said, and then, tentatively, “Be good and tell me what happened.”  Billy watched his face, swallowing.  “Somebody hit you,” Steve prompted.  “Who?  Was it...your dad?” Steve asked, unable to imagine the faded woman who answered the door raising a hand to Billy, or Billy letting Max smack him around.

Billy glared back at him, and Steve sighed.

“Stay here,” he said.  “Just—just stay.  Bring your shit.  All of it,” he said, as Billy stared at him, his breaths coming faster.  Steve scooted closer, and kissed him.  “Come on.”

“You want me to...move in here,” Billy said, flatly.

“Move in here,” Steve repeated, nodding, and Billy took a long shuddery breath, watching his face.

“Are you serious,” he hissed.  “Are—are you—you don’t fucking want me here, Harrington—”

“I do fucking want you here,” Steve growled back.  “Get your shit, dipshit.”

“Jesus,” Billy whispered, staring at him.

“Not gonna change my mind,” Steve said.

“I’m not eighteen,” Billy breathed.  “I’ve got a month—”

“Bring your shit here,” Steve told him.  “If he pitches a fit, we’ll work it out.”

“...gonna just...order me around now, huh,” Billy said, shifting against the ropes, and licking his lips.

“You gonna do it?” Steve pressed, and Billy laughed shakily, nodding.  

“You gonna tell me I’m a good, good boy?” he asked, trying to smirk, even though he had tear tracks on his cheeks.  

“Yeah,” Steve said, leaning in for a kiss.  “Yeah, yeah, I sure will.”

My other Harringrove stuff!

[mrs-hollandstan]

The One Where They Get Married During Quarantine || Tom Holland

Warnings: talk of the current pandemic, minor mentions of smuttish themes towards the end, language, talk of babiesssss

Word Count: 5,440

Author's Note: I like the way this came out! Thank you for the support on going through with it and I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist || Add yourself to one of my taglists

                Join us for the Wedding of 

                            Y/N Y/L/N

                                  &

                        Thomas Holland 

                 Saturday, March 28th 2020

              At Three O'clock in the Afternoon 

                Royal Botanical Kew Gardens

                  Richmond, United Kingdom 

That goddamn invitation stared you in the face from its place on the desk. It was Sunday, March 29th, and you still weren't married to the man of your dreams. You received an email three weeks before that your venue was forced to close their doors for the quarantine and you were stuck at home with not only Tom, but his brother, and both of his best friends. They'd had their fun with the pub quizzes, puzzle building, chicken raising, challenge accepting, but your fiancé always sensed the discontentment that radiated off of you and he was always willing to try and calm it to the best of his ability. But it never seemed to fully work, Tom knowing more than anyone that the fact the wedding you were so excited to plan, exhausted so much time and money into, wasn't happening when you wanted it to. You had a dress hanging in your shared closet, shoes, everything down to the cake delivery plan and the bouquet pickup dates. But it was all cancelled and it was like it was stored in a box and put up on a shelf. And to you, it seemed like Tom didn't understand the way you did, he wasn't hurt the way you were. 

Tom sighs as he enters your bedroom, closing the door behind him and cooing down at Tessa and nearing you. His eyes wander from your figure, one leg drawn up to your chest to the laptop now asleep in front of you. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, feeling the anxious waves roll off of you once more,

"You alright darling?" He asks anyways. You nod and he knows you're lying because he follows your eyes to the invitation you had gleefully told him would end up in a scrapbook when you got past the wedding. He sighs again, moving to sit back on the bed,

"I know how upset you are babe. And you know I hate it too. I loved the idea of seeing you walk down that aisle in this beautiful dress with our family around and all." He states. You can feel the tears burn your eyes as he speaks. You nod, letting him wheel your chair between his legs and clear your hair from your shoulder, 

"Talk to me love. You know I hate when you're quiet. You're never quiet." He says. You swallow, lips pursed for a moment before you sniffle and shake your head, 

"We would've been married a day today Tom. We would have had our dream wedding yesterday and we would have been in Fiji today." You express, Tom flinching at the anguish in your voice, 

"I know love. It sucks, it really does." You nod, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. Not only has your wedding been shelved until further notice, but you're stuck in a testosterone filled house 24/7. You had hoped that soon, maybe in the next year or so, you and Tom would be finding your own place, being newlyweds and starting that family you so badly wanted. You let out a sob that kills Tom and his brain runs a mile a minute at what he can do for you. He clicks his tongue, dragging you into his arms and listening to you sob. He runs his fingers through your hair, eyes closed as he lets you cry, knowing how hard it’s been on you. Not only the wedding, but the quarantine. He always had a way with feelings and he always knew what you were feeling even if you didn’t say it. He sighs,

“I wish there was something I could do for you darling.” He mutters into your hair, kissing your temple. His head continues to throb in thought, eyes darting back and forth as he tries to come up with an answer good enough for you. And then it hits him. He sits up, standing after a moment to drop to his knees at your feet, 

"Baby, babe, I have an idea." He starts, tugging your hand from your face and holding both of yours in both of his, "Darling, hear me out. You and I have been looking forward to this wedding for months, almost a year. So, what if we go through with it and set up a little wedding ceremony in the back yard, just us and the boys and just fuckin do it still? What do you think?" He asks. You stare down at him, watching his eyes swirl in worry and hurt at the sight of you, his thumbs coming up to collect the tears from under your own eyes, 

"I think it could be cool. We could- I-I mean you have your dress and I have more fucking tuxes than I know what to do with. I could- that florist we were using is doing curbside pickup and we paid for the order, I could go pick up just your bouquet and we could set up some chairs in the backyard-"

"Tom, someone would have to ordain it."

"Says who? We just have a little ceremony, wear our rings and when the world is normal-ish again, we go out and get married for real, reception and all with our families and we can... cure your little depression." He tries to lighten,

"We can just... wait until like August or something." You try and brush off. Tom quickly shakes his head, 

"Fuck that. You wanted a Spring wedding with all the pastels. We're not settling for an anniversary in August when we were excited for March or April. If we're doing it, we're doing it now or we're doing it next Spring and I've waited long enough to make you my wife. I don't want to wait another year." He reasons. After a moment, he purses his lips, 

"I wonder..." He trails off, standing from his knees and starting out of the room. You throw your arms up, Tessa taking his place on the bed behind you, tail shuffling the bedding as she laps at your cheeks and you squeal. 

Tom hurries down the hall and into the living room where the boys are playing Call of Duty, just like he left them. He presses the button on the TV to turn it off and gain the full, undivided attention of the now irritated, chattering boys. Tom waves his hands in the air to quiet the group, 

"I'll turn it back on in a minute, I need to ask a favor of you guys." He yells over them. They quiet then, watching Tom lick his lips, 

"I need... h-have any of you thought of getting ordained as a minister?" He asks. All three pairs of eyebrows furrow, the boys looking between themselves before Harry looks back up at his brother, one eyebrow raised, 

"Fucking what?" Harry asks. Harrison snickers before Tom rolls his eyes, 

"I was thinking Y/N and I could have a wedding ceremony in the backyard but we need someone to officiate for it to actually mean anything. That's what she's most upset about. I just... I was wondering if one of you guys could do it." He elaborates, suddenly feeling small, stupid. The room is silent for a moment before Tuwaine tsks, 

"Fuck it, I'll do it. It'll give me something to do in this damn house." He speaks up with a shrug, Tom's heart feeling a little more free now that Tuwaine has agreed. Tom thanks him, watching his friend nod, 

"How long do you think it'll take?" Tuwaine shrugs again, 

"Think it's like two weeks." Tom nods and turns the TV back on before turning and starting back down the hall. He slams his door behind him, finding the desk calendar that has had big red X's across it for weeks now. He tosses it on the bed before your newly laid down figure, 

"Pick a new wedding date two weeks from now. Any date you want." He says, chocolate colored eyes sparkling up at you in so much intent. You sigh, rubbing your thumb across Tessa's paw as you raise to an elbow and look over the calendar. It takes you a moment, but you point to the 11th of April. Tom finds a marker on your desk and adds the text, "New Wedding" before he returns the calendar to the spot in front of you,

"Tuwaine has agreed to get ordained and... we can get married the eleventh in the backyard. I'll pick up your bouquet and I can... go get a cake from the store and we'll just have a little wedding here. It'll be small and... maybe not as pretty as the wedding we spent all that time planning, but it's ours and that's what matters." He reasons. You nod, staring down at the grey puppy laid before you. He stands, leaning over your body to kiss your forehead, 

"I'll do the best I can to make you happy with this. I know it isn't ideal but... I think it'll be beautiful babe." You nod, glancing up at him. He smiles, 

"I'm excited to see you in your dress baby. I love you and I just know you'll be gorgeous." He says, kissing your lips softly. You nod, petting Tessa and feeling the tightening in your chest let up, the excitement growing inside your belly like it did the first time you planned a wedding, 

"Yeah. I think it'll be nice to... just actually be able to say we're married and have that strength during this... really fucked up time." You confirm. He nods, 

"I'd love to have Mrs. Holland runnin around here the rest of quarantine. We didn't think this whole lockdown thing would happen and I like the idea of going through with our wedding in it. A big fuck you to the world." You admit. He hums, staring down at you before he smiles and stands again, 

"Lets fuck around and get married then yeah?" You can't fight the smile as he takes your hands. You squeal as he pulls you up into his arms, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he kisses your cheek, 

"You know that if I could choose one thing to do outside of quarantine it would be to marry your fine ass. That hasn't changed and I don't think that this fucking shit should take over. We still have that love for each other and I think we should still go through with it around the time we said we were going through with it." Tom explains. You nod as he rubs your arms, 

"Me too. I think it's a really good idea." He smiles and nods, 

"And the best thing is that... bullshit thing you'd said about spending all that money on that dress for a one time wear will go out that window because I'll pay for another big ass wedding when we can have one." Tom reassures. You nod, laying your head against his shoulder as he sways you. He holds you close, eyes closing in peace now that he knows he can at least give you somewhat of that fairytale wedding you planned. 

Neither you or Tom could deny that the excitement of your backyard wedding was getting overwhelming just as the idea of your actual wedding had. Tom had added a few more people to your guest list to include his parents, Paddy, Sam, and Elysia and your parents were set up to facetime you and watch you marry your fiancé from a different country. In that time, Tuwaine had acquired his officiant license and had printed off a marriage certificate to ensure your legal anniversary was April 11th. You had helped pick out a tux to wear and reached an agreement with Harrison that Tom would use his room to get ready so you could maintain the secrecy of your dress, hair, and makeup. The last of Tom's endeavors was picking up the colorful bouquet from the florist, handing it to his mother who followed Elysia towards your bedroom to help with hair and makeup. The last of your priorities was discussing your want for his father to walk you down the aisle for the full feel, the group setting up an arch Tom's parents already had in the backyard of their own to give the pictures Harry agreed to take, a better look. The only thing agreed upon when it came to picture taking was it remained strictly after the ceremony, the both of you wanting everyone to enjoy the ambiance and not worry about what jobs they're supposed to be doing. 

Sam, Paddy, Tuwaine, Tom, Harry, Harrison, and Dom had spent the time setting chairs up, decorating the arch in things you'd already bought for the wedding, each man doing their fair share of trying to calm Tom of his nerves but nearly to no avail. By four o'clock, he's standing before the arch with Tuwaine who continues to try and calm him. Nikki and Elysia exit the back door, Tom's eyes drawn to the inside of your house. Once he sees movement, his heart skips a beat and you, in all of your beauty, emerge, arm looped in Dom's as he escorts you towards his son and your future husband. You smile when you catch his eye, gripping your bouquet tight in your hand. Dom pauses, snapping to relinquish Tessa, basket handle held in her mouth which contains your rings. Each of the family members laugh, including Tom who crouches and greets the puppy in the pinkish white dress he'd bought her a few years ago. He has her sit as Harry, having already connected his phone to your Bluetooth speaker, begins to play "Canon In D" and the rest of the group stands to welcome you out,

"Deep breath. Last thing I need is you passing out before I get you there." Dom jokes as you begin walking, ivory heels sinking into the grass beneath your feet, something you hadn't planned on dealing with when it came to your originally planned wedding. You smile up at him, holding his bicep tighter and taking breaths to calm your pounding heart. Nikki catches your eye, iPad with your parents smiling widely from their living room back home in hand. Her smile matches, the same as Sam, Paddy, Elysia, Harrison, Harry, and Tuwaine as Tom stares you down. The image of him is seared into your brain, tears in his eyes and it's everything you've imagined it'd be, of course under different circumstances. Dom pauses just before Tom, you fiancé stepping forward to take your hand from his father,

"Who gives this woman to this man in marriage?" Tuwaine asks, Tom and Dom meeting eyes before his father speaks, 

"I do." Dom says, leaning in to kiss your cheek and pat Tom on the shoulder before he takes your bouquet and joins Nikki. Tom helps you stand across from him, finally on cement again,

"You look beautiful darling." He mutters, 

"Thank you. You cleaned up nice yourself." You reply. Tuwaine clears his throat as Tom rubs his thumbs across your knuckles, 

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Thomas Stanley Holland and Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N in marriage. Not only have all of us witnessed the love and dedication the two have for each other, but we shall all feel privileged knowing they chose us to witness the matrimony these two shall embark on. We have watched both grow and thrive and mature in the company of each other and now we are blessed to watch them grow further as husband and wife, as one entity." You smile at Tom who takes a deep breath at Tuwaine's introduction. Tuwaine pauses for a moment before he begins again, with the readings, 

"You each chose a quote. So Y/N chose, from Maya Angelou, 'Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps, hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.' Tom, you chose, from George Eliot, 'What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life–to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting?'" Both quotes had been made for you it seemed. There were so many things within the relationship that proved to be a hurdle for the both of you. Tom obviously traveled a lot with his job, and you had to deal with the distance for long periods of time, both as his girlfriend and fiancée. The facetime calls killed you and your heart hurt daily until you were with him again. And when you were, it was freeing. No matter how long you'd been apart, Tom always came back and you were always together and back to being in love like he never left,

"Now, you both have prepared vows. We'll do those now," Tuwaine remarks and Sam stands to hand both folded papers over, "Y/N, read yours first." You unfold the paper, heart pounding at the vows you'd prepared months in advance and had recently edited to fit the current circumstances. You clear your throat, 

"Tom, my love, my light. You have always been my rock at both my best and my worst, through everything. You have always pushed me to be the best version of myself that I could be and you've always been the most wise and selfless person in my life. My love for you is immeasurable and I have never been able to imagine my life without you and your happy, carefree, charisma, spunk in my life. I've been infatuated and in love with you for years and I've always known, for as long as I can remember, that I've wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, just the two of us being in love. As my husband, I promise to stay the same crazy person you agreed to date all those years ago. I promise to continue to annoy the hell out of you, cling to you in the morning when you try and get up, stick my cold feet and hands on your bare skin, and ruin your tea every once in a while, sometimes on purpose, sometimes on accident," Tom laughs, sniffling back his tears, "but more than anything, as your wife I promise to always be your quarantine buddy and I promise to always love you unconditionally and make you as happy as I can and at least pretend to love the same things you do just to listen to you ramble in the adorable way you always do." You finish, reaching up to dab the tears away. Tom's laughter dies down and he clears his own tears away, the rest of the group doing the same as you fold the paper back up. Tom smiles, staring down at you with such adoration in his eyes. Tuwaine allows a brief pause before turning to his friend,

"Now Tom, will you please read your vows to Y/N?" The brunette nods, unfolding his own sheet of notebook paper and clearing his throat, 

"I don't know that mine are that good but uhm... I tried." He mutters, laughing along with you and the family. He purses his lips for a moment before clearing his throat again, licking his lips and his eyebrows knit together for a moment, 

"Y/N, the love of my life, my biggest supporter, and my confidante, I have never loved anyone more than I have loved you and I have never been loved by someone like you. My biggest regret will always be not giving you the wedding you so obviously deserve even though I've promised to throw you the biggest reception ever once the world starts spinning again," you giggle, clearing your tears again, "you have always stuck with me, through thick and thin, through terrible time differences and long months apart only to welcome me back like we've just paused time. You're compassionate, beautiful, funny, and so silly and I have never had a dull moment with you and I know I never will. My promise to you, as your husband, is that I'll never make life boring. I'll always be your rock, I'll always give your life meaning the way you've done for me, and I'll always make sure you know how loved you are. No matter how many times we fight and how stupid those fights are. And no matter what, there is no one I would rather marry during quarantine than you. I would do anything for you, both before and even more so after quarantine and making you happy in any way I can is what I'll always do. I love you." He finishes, sniffling and folding his vows back up to tuck in his inside pocket,

"I love you too." You whisper as he takes your hands again. There isn't a dry eye in the house, not even Tuwaine who, from the beginning has watched and listened to one of his best friends fall in love with you and now he has the privilege of watching it come to fruition. He was given the privilege of marrying the two of you in an equally as beautiful as your original, backyard wedding. He sniffles himself before looking down at the pages he holds, 

"Alright, now the exchange of rings. Tom, please find Y/N's ring and put it on her as you say the following phrase." Tom nods, kneeling to fish the beautiful diamond ring he’d proposed to you with, from Tessa's basket, patting her head before he stands and looks at the paper in Tuwaine’s hands, clearing his throat again. He takes your hand again, staring up into your eyes as he starts,

“Y/N, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. As it encircles your finger, may it remind you always that you are surrounded by my enduring love." He repeats the phrase from the paper, glancing up into your eyes again as he slides the ring all the way onto your finger, licking his lips. Tuwaine allows another pause before he turns to look at you, 

“And now Y/N, the same.” He commands, waiting until you retrieve Tom’s ring to hold the page out to you,

“Tom, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. As it encircles your finger, may it remind you always that you are surrounded by my enduring love.” You relay to the man across from you, a smile crossing his features. He knows what follows and it’s surreal knowing that it’s happening. He’s marrying you, the love of his life, in his garden and life can’t get much better. Tuwaine turns his page,

“Now, by the power vested in me, you may kiss your bride.” He directs Tom’s way. His dark brown eyes meet yours before he steps forward, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other reaching up to caress your cheek before he leans in to kiss you, your own arms looping under his. The crowd around you claps as Tom kisses you, leaning you back just the smallest bit before he leans back himself, pressing his forehead to yours and smiling, kissing you once more before he stands back and glances up at Tuwaine, smiling down at the two of you,

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Stanley and Y/N Y/M/N Holland.” Tuwaine hollers as both sets of parents, Tom’s siblings, Tom’s best friend and Elysia all cheer and Tom thrusts your hand, wrapped in his, up in victory. He glances over at you, smile wide across his face as he leans in one last time to kiss you and Harry plays the song you set to walk back down the aisle to, Tom leading you with your hand in his back inside the house. Once inside, he squeals, pulling you in,

“You do realize we just got married right? Like… you’re Mrs. Holland now. As you should have been two weekends ago.” Tom reminds. You giggle and nod, glancing down at the ring on your finger,

“Yes I do. I love you more than anything.” You tell Tom who holds your waist as you lean in for yet another kiss, your family entering the back doors. Each of them beeline to congratulate you, each of them dishing out hugs and kisses, the girls asking to see the ring on your finger. You take the iPad from Nikki's hands, greeting your parents and showing them the wedding ring on your finger. They ask for Tom who presses a hand to your lower back, greeting them cheerfully and thanking them as they dish out congratulatories, 

"Right," Tuwaine's voice booms out over the chatter. He looks between you and Tom, holding up a piece of paper, "Pardon the interruption, but I need bride, groom, and two witnesses to make it official, official." He remarks. Tom wraps his arm around your waist as you hand Nikki back the iPad, 

"So... who do you reckon is lucky enough to be our official witnesses?" He whispers in your ear. You sigh, 

"I dunno. Uhm... your mom and... your best friend?" You pose quietly as to not offend anyone. He smiles and reaches out to fluff your hair with a smile, 

"I think that's a good idea," he turns to the group, "mum, Haz... will you guys... be our witnesses?" Tom asks. You see the devotion, the adoration and respect in Harrison's bright blue eyes as a smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth. He nods, 

"I'd be honored." He mutters, Nikki reaching out to rub your arm once she's handed the iPad to Dom, 

"Me too." She smiles wider as you and Tom follow Tuwaine to the dining room table, watching him lean in to sign the marriage certificate,

"First the officiant signs it, and then the two witnesses." He explains, handing the pen to Nikki. She smiles as she leans in and signs the paper, passing the pen to Harrison all while Harry is snapping photos. He snaps at you and Tom, 

"Lets get some pics of just you two outside with the arch." He says. You nod, taking Tom's hand and following the two boys outside and up to the arch, Tom's arm wrapping around your waist again. He sighs, 

"Nice day for a wedding, ay darling?" He jokes. You giggle and nod, leaning up to kiss him softly as Harry's camera clicks, your eyes darting between Tom's, 

"It's the perfect day for a wedding cutie." 

You watch through the back door as the boys play the same game they'd been obsessed with for months. You roll Tom's fingers in your own, tucking the blanket under your chin further. Tom sighs beside you, pressing his lips into your hair, 

"Darling?" You hum an answer, glancing up at your husband when he doesn't respond. His dark eyes find yours after another moment, 

"Are you happy?" He asks. Your eyebrows furrow, 

"What do you mean T?" He shrugs, threading his fingers through yours while you're preoccupied,

"I just mean... two months ago we watched this virus roll in and we never thought it would get this bad to the point we'd be spending every waking moment in this house with three other men and that it'd result in a wedding we were so excited to plan and see through and it wasn't... exactly what we planned, but, I dunno, I just mean, are you happy with what we had here today?" He elaborates, glancing back up at the stars that sparkle above you both from the place in your hammock. You linger in the silence for another moment before you shift to place your hand over Tom's beating heart, 

"Do you remember... that Jared commercial we saw the other night?" You ask. His eyes half roll as he thinks, teeth chewing the inside of his cheek and then he nods, 

"Yeah, the one with the virtual weddings?" He asks. You nod, 

"Do you remember what it said and how you nudged me to get the point of it all?" You pose. He nods,

"Yeah." You nod once more, 

"You did it because the point of that commercial is that it doesn't matter about the dress, or the cake, or the guest list or how formal everything is. What matters is the love the two people getting married have for each other, especially during trying times like now." You remind him. He smiles, playing with your hair, 

"Right." You rub his chest,

"Whether I married you today in our back yard with all of the things we have from our wedding or I marry you in August back in our venue with new stuff doesn't matter because it isn't the date that matters, it's you and me and how we show we love each other." His smile is bright as he squeezes your fingers between his. You sigh, 

"I could have married you in that dress in there with fifty people and a cake and a vibrant bouquet and all that in April or I could have married you in a trash bag in the middle of August with dead flowers and it would not have changed my love for you Tom." You reassure. He reaches out with his opposite hand to tuck hair behind your ear, 

"So you're happy?" He reiterates. You giggle, nodding and situating yourself to rest your head further up Tom's shoulder,

"Extremely. And always with you." He leans in to kiss you softly, 

"Me too love. My vows were 100% from my heart. I've never loved anyone like you and I would do whatever it takes to make sure you understand that." 

"I do. Mine were honest too. No matter what the problem, no matter how tired you are, you've always been there for me. I have never, ever been more in love with someone and I don't wanna know anything else. Of course... I've been down because I'm in a house with four guys and I don't get to have my fairytale wedding and honestly, we'd be looking for our own place, just the two of us but... I loved today. Our family and friends, my dress, my bouquet, my beautiful fiancè. I'm more than happy Tom." You explain to him. He strokes your hair down, leaning in to kiss you once more, 

"I love you more than anything Y/N." He says softly. You smile, reaching up to rub your thumb across his cheek,

"I love you too Tom," you hold your hand up, brandishing the wedding ring on your finger, "for life now. I've got you." You tell him. He chuckles, 

"Forever and always love. Now when we... get back to the world we'll get our own place, I promise, and... soon enough, we'll be tryin for some beautiful babies." 

"Slow your roll Holland, we gotta get outta this damn house first. And having a kid isn't our first priority once we do get our place." You jokingly scold. Tom chuckles, smile fading after a moment and he frowns,

"We aren't... going to wait til we move out to consummate our marriage are we?" He poses. You giggle, 

"I hadn't planned on it, no." 

"Oh thank god." He mutters, the both of you relaxing against each other, staring up at the stars for a moment longer. He sighs, fingers nonchalantly rubbing up and down your arm. He hums before pressing his lips into your hair again, 

"Happy anniversary love." He mutters. You glance up at him again, smile widening, 

"About damn time Mr. Holland." He chuckles again, 

"And now, every April 11th, for the rest of our lives, we'll be reminded of the day we got married in our backyard." He says. You lay your head against his shoulder, 

"I wouldn't have it any other way." You admit. His lips press to your forehead, 

"Me neither darling, me neither." He mumbles, wrapping his arm tight around you. And the uncertainty you had felt weeks ago when your wedding was forced to be cancelled, was gone now that you were in the arms of Tom. Not only your rock, but your husband. Now and always.

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[vintagedolan]

sweet creature (egd)

ethan hates when he has to leave you for even a few days, so when he gets back, he has a little surprise planned

word count: 4.3k

warnings/tags: fluff, and then some smut to round it out WOO we goin through it today ladies and gents, harry styles (music) is involved :) 

dedicated to my bruna bby ( @ethanhes​ ) who is so strong and the sweetest girly I know. I love you!!

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

Like hell you were gonna make another trip - you slid the last grocery bag onto your arm, ignoring how they were digging into your skin as you started your walk into the house. If anyone had watched you try to navigate your way in the door, it probably would have been quite the sight. But you succeeded, emerging into an empty kitchen, heaving the heavy bags up onto the counter.

Usually, you’d yell down the hall, summon the boys to help you unpack. But it would be futile - no one was home. Not even Sterling was around - the three of them were off on Wakeheart business, at the factory in Arizona where everything was actually produced so they could approve all the candle production.

You’d gotten a few pictures from the trip - bright colorful sunsets, Grayson and Sterling smiling from across the table at breakfast. But your favorites were the stupid little selfies he kept sending. Your phone buzzed in your pocket as if on cue.

Another snapchat from Ethan, this time of him with a metal straw trapped between his teeth and big smile on his face. Adorable, as always. 

cold brew mood. miss you x was the caption that flitted across the screen. You screenshotted it just in time. The next buzz was a text from him.

:(

why you screenshot

cause you looked cute

send me one back, I miss you

You rolled your eyes at that, deciding to make him wait for a minute while you started to put the groceries away. You’d only unpacked two bags before your phone buzzed again.

hey

show me ur face

omg gimme a minute 😂

im putting away the obscene amount of oat milk I just bought

DID THEY HAVE THE GOOD KIND

yep. bought three cartons

holy shit I love you

gray says he loves you too 

but I love you more

You sent him a quick snapchat to appease him, unsurprised when you got the notification that he’d screenshotted it. He always got like this when he was away - even more clingy than usual, constantly wanting to communicate with you somehow. You had to admit, you loved the idea that you were always on his mind when he wasn’t with you, even if it did mean you felt like you were constantly on your phone.

what else are you doing today?

idk might lay out by the pool for a while

without me? 😔

you should go shopping

You frowned at your phone, looking at the few boxes of pasta you had left to put away before you typed back with a huff.

I literally just got back from the grocery what do u mean

not that kind of shopping

fun shopping. like for clothes

The thought was tempting - with everything going on, you hadn’t gotten anything new in months. To be fair though, you hadn’t really needed anything new - you were just hanging around the house anyways. 

do you want me to go so I’ll stop wearing all your clothes

yes

kidding baby you know I don’t care. but you should get some new stuff, you deserve it! just use my card

I hate using your card

It wasn’t a lie. Ethan had gotten you a credit card linked to his personal account for emergencies almost six months ago, and you’d only used it a handful of times when he insisted. You never wanted him to ever think that you cared about him for his money. 

I’d be buying whatever you find if I was there, it’s the same thing

You grinned to yourself, plan already hatching. He didn’t say what you had to buy. You’d just get something small - a pack of socks, or a basic tee - with his card, and pay for the rest of it yourself. 

alright alright, fine

But his next text had you rolling your eyes. He knew you too well.

and you have buy real clothes. like at least one dress

Even though he wasn’t there to see it, your eyes squinted in accusation. 

why a dress?

you’re being sus what’s this about

you’re so stubborn holy shit. I was gonna buy you dresses for the harry concert so I want you to pick some out for yourself

Damn. You’d almost forgotten that the concert was supposed to be that night. Ethan had bought the two of you tickets back when they went on presale, using his connections to get the two of you amazing seats. E had been almost as bummed as you when it got postponed, disappointed that the night he’d had planned for you had fallen through.

it got rescheduled to august baby, we can go shopping then!

i’m impatient

omg really? I had no idea 

just go buy some dresses and send me pictures. we’re back at the factory, gotta go. I love you!

love you too!

Knowing that if you sat down you probably wouldn’t get back up, you turned back to the door with a sigh, grabbing your keys and wallet from where you’d just stowed them, heading back out to the car.

You climbed into Ethan’s Tesla, hitting your preset button on the door so the seat moved forward to where you could reach the pedals. He always insisted you take his car if he couldn’t drive you, always wanting you to be the safest you could be. It was still a bit intimidating to drive something so expensive, but you did it anyways, heading to the mall that housed most of your favorite stores with your mask on.

It turned out to be one of those days where nothing caught your eye. You really looked, scoured through the racks, hoping to find anything that looked remotely appealing or like your style. You even tried on a few that you had hopes for, but they were a bust. 

Feeling defeated you stopped for a while and got some coffee, sitting and people watching as everyone passed in their masks. Your eyes wandered to another store, one you rarely went into - it catered to your style perfectly, but everything was far out of your price range. 

But looking couldn’t hurt. Right?

That backfired as soon as you walked in, smelled that perfect fragrance that seemed to dust all the soft fabrics in the place. 

Before you knew what you’d done, you had so many options thrown over your arm that it was starting to ache. 

You stopped looking, headed to a dressing room to try and narrow down your search. Some of them were automatic no’s, the cut not flattering or the color clashing with the undertones in your skin.

But there were three winners - a tight green one that hugged your curves, a casual denim overall number that would look adorable with the right shirt, and a blue sundress that tied into a bow at the back, the fabric brushing your upper thighs.

You snapped pictures in each one, knowing Ethan would help you decide. Your bet was on the green one - he was a man, after all. But his response just made you roll your eyes.

you look hot as fuck

buy all three

no

yes

they’re expensive

I didn’t ask how much they cost. You like them all. therefore, you buy them all

it’s simple really

ethan

y/n

just tell me which one is your favorite please

if you don’t buy all three i’m just gonna go back and buy them for you later

or I’ll order them and have them shipped to the house

stop

getting online now 😌

stop it

placing an order 😌 😌

ethan grant

last chance

fine

im sticking my tongue out at you. you can’t see it but I am

ouch, im hurt

are you headed home after you buy them?

well I’m sure as hell not spending anymore money, so yeah. why?

just wondering where my girl’s gonna be. drive safe. you took the tesla right?

of course I did.

good. hurry home. but don’t hurry too much. safety first

You quirked an eyebrow at the last text - he was being so odd. He’d only been gone for two days, usually it wasn’t this bad for him. Who knew what he’d be like tomorrow before he got home.

Changing back into your clothes in a hurry, you put your rejects out on the return rack and carried your three choices to the register, trying not to listen to the total before you put Ethan’s card in the reader. 

You left the mall swiftly after that, trying to ignore the eyes on you. In reality, no one was probably looking at you, but you felt like everyone was staring as you carried your expensive bag and got in a fucking tesla. You never understood how Gray and E could walk around with such expensive things and not be fazed in the slightest. 

The drive home took longer than you would have liked considering the traffic you got caught in, but you just turned your music up, humming along as you crawled down the road towards your exit. When you finally got there you let the tesla take over, pulling you off the interstate and starting down the smaller roads that led to the house. 

Your first clue was when the song changed. At first you didn’t think much of it - you had every Harry song saved to your library, it wasn’t unusual for one to come up. 

But then, one verse into Fine Line, it skipped, the intro of Two Ghosts starting. 30 seconds later? Falling started to play through the car. 

“What the fuck?” You muttered, quickly switching off autopilot, afraid that the car may be glitching. It was only a few more minutes until you got to the house, and in that time the song switched again twice, all Harry songs. 

When you pulled into the driveway and put the car in park, your phone buzzed with your second clue.

welcome home baby

omg are you watching the cameras? that’s creepy as fuck

also the tesla just got super weird but I swear I didn’t fuck up your car

just come inside

You obliged, grabbing your bag and heading into the house.

Clue number three was that the pasta boxes you’d left on the counter were gone, put away no doubt on the shelf that you couldn’t reach. You froze.

Someone was in the house.

You only had a moment to be scared before Ethan appeared around the corner, your favorite grin adorning his face.

“Boo.”

You dropped the bag, running the few steps it took to get to him before you threw your arms around him, breathing him in as he hugged you to him tightly. 

“You guys weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow!”

“Caught an early flight so I could surprise my girl. Gray and Ster are still in Arizona.” He leaned back so you could look at him, shrugging as if it was no big deal that he’d cut his trip short just to come home to see you.

“Didn’t you have stuff you needed to do?” 

“No, we knocked it out today.”

“Then why didn’t Grayson come ba-”

His lips were on yours then, catching your words as he kissed you hard, a hand coming up to your cheek, thumb running over your cheekbone. “Are you gonna keep asking me questions, or are you gonna let me actually surprise you.”

“There’s more?” The butterflies that only he could bring fluttered in your stomach, and you bit your lip, looking up at him. He leaned down past you, reaching for the bag you’d dropped, placing it back in your hands.

“Maybe. Go put on one of your new dresses, then come out back.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he let go. “Hurry.”

“Okay!” You were practically giddy as you hurried back to Ethan’s room, laying the dresses out on the comforter and trying to decide on one. It took a few minutes, a few switches of holding them up to you in the mirror before you settled on the blue sundress, situating the big sewed bow in the middle of your back. It had a built in bra that was surprisingly comfortable, making it the easiest choice.

Shoving your dresses back in the bag, you didn’t even bother with shoes. You just headed straight for the backyard - but you froze in the living room, taking in the sight through the doors.

The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky a baby purple, the clouds a pop of pink as they floated, scattered around. The city was starting to light up below you, and the moon hung high above it. But your eyes were on something - someone - entirely different. 

Ethan was standing in the grass, wearing one of his nice pairs of shorts and a short sleeve patterned button down - you hadn’t even noticed his outfit earlier, you’d been too excited to see him. He was holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, the petals bright yellow even in the dim light.  

He caught sight of you through the glass and immediately hid the flowers behind his back as he stood up straight and smiled like a guy coming to the front door to pick you up for prom.

You pulled the door open, stepping out into the cool California air. It felt almost cold against your flushed cheeks as Ethan looked you up and down, letting out a low whistle.

You just laughed, stopping a few steps in front of him and waiting for whatever he had planned. 

He whipped the flowers around with a grin, holding them out for you with one hand, leaving his other arm tucked behind him. “Happy concert night!”

What you didn’t see was the remote in his other hand. He clicked it with his thumb, and the whole back yard lit up. There were twinkling christmas lights lining the roof and wrapping around the tree to the side of the house. He’d brought out Grayson’s projector and pointed it at a white sheet he’d hung up - you watched it for a moment, laughing when you realized it was projecting a slideshow of the pictures you two had taken together over the last year. And finally, you noticed the speakers had turned on, starting to play one of your favorite songs. Sweet Creature.

“E-”

“I know it got rescheduled, and we’ll have so much fun when we go. But, I still wanted to make tonight special. So, it’s kinda just date night, but... Harry Styles edition?” 

Closing the gap with a few steps you threw your arms around his neck, flowers and all, so you could kiss him. 

“I love you so much,” were the only words you could find, and you hoped he knew how much you truly meant them.

“Love me enough to dance with me?” 

You froze at that - you weren’t much of a slow dancer, and Ethan had even less experience than you did. But the thought of staying so close to him made your heart flutter, so you nodded, letting go for a moment so you could sit the flowers down safely in the grass.

He pulled you back into his arms, hands settling on your waist as yours went around his neck. His fingertips ghosted over the bare skin on your back below the bow, sending shivers up your spine. 

It didn’t matter that Sweet Creature was a tiny bit fast for a slow dance - the two of you weren’t doing more than swaying back and forth anyways, foreheads touching, totally lost in each other. 

He spun you a few times, even throwing in a little dip that made you both laugh before he kissed you, leaving you a bit breathless when he pulled you back up to standing. 

“You bring me home,” he sang, slightly off pitch and so quiet you could barely hear, but it was so sweet that it even brought a few tears to your eyes. You blinked them away so you could see his face as you both smiled. 

The energy picked up a bit as the songs continued to shuffle, Carolina coming on next. You both jumped around hand in hand, looking like total idiots you were sure, stomachs sore from laughing at and with each other by the end. You paused a few times throughout the next songs to watch the slideshow, laughing at some of the pictures he’d chosen, remembering the stories behind them.  

When Sunflower came on, Ethan opened his arms again for a dance and you quirked an eyebrow.

“You know, Mr. Styles doesn’t have as many romantic songs as I thought he did. This one’s not bad though,” Ethan mumbled as the two of you swayed back and forth quickly, spinning around and around.

“This song isn’t even romantic, it’s about him missing his ex,” you explained.

“You analyzed those lyrics hard huh.”

“Oh don’t act like you haven’t dissected every Cudi song five times over.” You squinted your eyes at him in accusation and he just laughed.

“Touché, touché. Maybe the sunflowers weren’t the best Harry related gesture then huh.”

“I still think they’re beautiful,” you reassured him. 

“Thought it would kinda be weird to give you a watermelon. Though, I guess that would have sent a much clearer message.” 

The mischief in his eyes told you he knew exactly what that song was about.

“A little on the nose, don’t yah think?” You scrunched up your nose at him as if to prove your point. He reached out for your hand and you laced your fingers with his.

“Never.” 

And then he was walking, half pulling half guiding you back into the house, through the glass doors, down the hallway, into the bedroom. Your skin was hot, partially from the change in temperature, partially from the hands that were wandering over your skin as soon as the door was closed.

Ethan’s hands traced down your arms, fingertips over skin, then over fabric when he got to your waist, further down to your thighs and then you were gasping as he found his way under your skirt. His hands spread out, large and commanding over your ass, resting there for a moment, squeezing before he moved north, fingers hooking into your panties, guiding them down until they fell off and you could step out of them. 

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, blindly undoing them as he kissed you. You found yourself pausing, hands tracing over the new yet familiar skin that revealed itself with each one you managed to loosen until finally, finally it was open and you could push it off his shoulders. 

His hand found the bow, roughly starting to tug until you reached back and caught him.

“Baby don’t pull. It’s sewed, it doesn’t come undone,” you cautioned, barely pulling back, unwilling to put any space between the two of you. 

“Stupid,” he grumbled, pouting a bit until he realized that he could pull the fabric off your shoulders, freeing your chest. He hummed a bit in satisfaction, hands moving to squeeze your tits, and then he was kissing them, sinking lower, lower until his knees hit the floor.

“Oh fuck,” you squeaked, knowing exactly what was about to happen. 

Ethan looked up at you from his knees with a teasing grin and a quirked eyebrow, waiting for your permission. You nodded, trying to breathe as his hands ghosted up your thighs, up to your hips. 

And then he ducked his head so he could get under the fabric of your skirt, ready to get to work.

Your knees buckled as soon as you felt him, tongue warm and flat against you. One of his hands came down, tracing over your skin until he got to your calf, lifting it just barely and pushing it out to widen your stance.

You whimpered as he sped up, his satisfied hums adding to the sensation in a way that had your legs starting to shake already. Your hands dropped to his head, and you pushed the fabric off the top of it so you could get to his hair, tugging. It just made him go harder, burying himself deeper. You folded forward, bracing on his shoulders, overwhelmed as you alternated holding you breathe and gasping for air, squirming.

“E, Ethan stop, my legs are gonna give out, wait,” you gasped, pulling on his hair. 

He paused, ducking out from under your dress and smiling up at you, lips swollen and pride booming.

“That’s the best compliment you’ve ever given me I think. But I’m not done yet, lay down.” 

You did as he said, turning around and climbing onto the middle of the bed before collapsing onto your back, rolling over and looking for him. Ethan was one second behind you, crawling above you to hover over you then duck down to kiss you hard yet somehow sweet at the same time.

It was instinct to reach down to his waist, let your fingers ghost over his waistband, tuck underneath it in a blind search. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when you wrapped your fingers around the tip. He shook his head at you, making you pout.

“Tonights about you, not me.”

“But I want to.”

“Raincheck. Best fucking raincheck ever, but raincheck. Just lemme take care of you.” 

He kisses you until you forget your argument - you’re putty in his hands as his lips trail back down. He pushes all the fabric of your dress together so it’s just a band around your tummy and then he picked up where he left off.

“Fuck E, just like that, oh god.” You were squirming again in a matter of moments, his stubble rough against your thighs as he worked you over. He felt your body tense up under his hold, smiling as he gave it all he had, giving that extra little push that sent you tumbling, clenching, writhing over the edge. 

He peppered kisses to your thighs as you caught your breath, and then he reached up, fists closing around all the fabric of your dress.

“Lift your hips up,” he instructed, waiting for you to bridge up so he could wiggle the dress off over your hips. He tossed it towards the closet, moving back up towards your face, bed dipping down with his weight.

“No fair,” you pouted, reaching down to tug at his shorts and boxers. 

“And I’m the impatient one.” 

He stood back up off the bed, quickly shoving down the clothing he had left and stepping out of it. 

“Much better.” You grinned wide when you saw he was blushing at your words. “C’mere.” 

He happily listened, crawling back above you and dropping a bit of his weight down as he sunk to his forearms. 

“So missionary is the way to your heart huh? So vanilla.” He bumped his nose against yours.

“You have a pretty face, sue me,” you laughed, bringing your hands up to his neck and pulling him down for a kiss as he dropped his hips, searching for just a moment before he pushed inside. 

You’d lost count of how many times the two of you had been just like this, intertwined and enthralled with each other, but you knew you’d never get tired of it as long as you lived.

“I love you.” It came out as a breath when he bottomed out, his lips resting on your shoulder, back curled up at an angle that let you feel every muscle, every ridge of his body. 

“I love you. You’re my dream, you know that?” He started to rock his hips, unwilling to go too far from you as you clung to his back, relishing in the feeling of him on you, in you, all around you. 

This would always be your favorite way to be with him - sweet and soft, just your bodies together, nothing else. You couldn’t think of anything better.

He shifted just barely, thrusting in at a different angle. You knew he was searching, and you gasped when he brushed against your g spot, your whole body shuddering.

“There she is,” he whispered, a prideful grin on his face as he hit it over and over. Watching you come undone below him would always be one of his favorite views. “Look at me baby, I wanna see you.” 

You did your best in your blissed out state to listen to him, turning your head from where it had fallen against the pillow to look at him while he picked up pace. Your legs curled around his back, holding him to you, urging him as deep as he could go as you chased the orgasm that was building in your gut.

He stared at you for a few moments, and then as if he couldn’t help it he ducked down to kiss you, open mouthed and rough as he pulled his hips back, thrusting forward with more force than he’d used yet. 

“Oh fuck Ethan, fuck,” you moaned, holding onto him for dear life. When he snaked one hand between the two of you to find your clit, you were done for. 

His breath caught in his throat as you clenched around him and you heard the whimpers through your cloudy haze, mixtures of pleasure and your name as he came undone, hip stuttering and then stopping when he finally hit his high. 

Once he’s caught his breath he rolls the both of you over so you’re resting on his chest, listening to his heart rate settle back down under your ear. 

“I’m so glad you came home early,” you sighed, hugging his bare torso as he chuckled.

“Me too baby. Me too.”

[werezmastarbucks]

coming back was a mistake!

the reader bonds with kai over their shared dislike of mystic falls

previous part

word count: 3912

music: tomorrow never came by lana del rey

warnings: delena wedding

Kai leaned over Caroline, almost touching her ear with his nose. Nobody had any idea how a mortal witch boy was still capable on sneaking on vampires, but there they were. Caroline nearly hopped out of her pants when he started talking,

“So, what’s the deal with the pretty one?”

“God dammit! What is wrong with you?!”

Kai put on his patient face and waited until Caroline snapped out of her manic episode. He could never understand why it’s so hard to get over their indignation every time he was around, and just answer his questions.

“Is she, like, insane?”

The blonde vampire narrowed her eyes almost vengefully.

“Who?!”

“The pretty one, Y/N”.

“What do you want with her?” Caroline snapped.

“Are you okay? Have you hit your head today?”

“I don’t have time for this”, Forbes brushed him away with her hand. She was dreaming about leaving this house as soon as possible. “Stay away from her”.

If she was a bit nicer, Kai would tell her it was too late, and that he was almost as good as the second base.

He wandered around the mansion until he found Elena. And approached her with the same question. This one had a slightly longer fuse. Where Caroline raged and started spitting atrocities, Elena would usually get worried out of her little mind about everyone.

“What’s the deal with Y/N?”

There we go. The nervous glint in her dark eyes. Oooh, how does Kai know about her? Oh my god, what has he done this time? Etc.

“Why?”

“Saw her talk to herself”.

Elena sniffed angrily.

“Where?”

Kai was honestly getting tired of them all.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just curious“.

“That’s none of your business, Kai”.

“She’s also super secretive about why she only comes back once a year. Maybe I’m reading too deep into it, but I find it cryptic”, he smirked. Elena sighed.

“You just sound like you’re very bored. Find another source of entertainment”.

“I don’t want to. I like this one”.

Elena looked carefully at the witch. She already knew that look, although it hasn’t been too long for her studying Malachai. But this look said everything. He made his mind up. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Leave her alone. Please?”

Kai looked down on the brunette, frowning with a grin.

“I’m not gonna hurt her. You think I’m some kind of creep?”

He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Elena rolled her eyes.

Damon entered the living room.

“You ready, Bastinda?” he asked, looking extremely bored. Kai nodded, playing along as if he was even mildly entertained by his neverending nickname spitting fountain or irony. Everybody had to pretend they find Damon witty, otherwise he’d get upset. That was one of the things that apalled Kai the most, why everyone was so worried about the fragile nature of this big idiot boy.

Just before they started the spell, he sensed his sister, as Damon’s head snapped towards the door. The vampire ears detected her angry footsteps, too. Too bad the vampires underestimate the famous Parker rage.

You only realized your phone was left at the Grill when the morning came.

Cursing, worried and hungover, you drove there, a bit blinded by the sunlight. August did not have mercy on anyone.

It was bad enough your head was spinning. While Jerry the bartender who was still alive went to the DJ booth to ask around about your loss, you sat at the counter, sucking on water with lemon, and looked around. Everything appeared completely normal. You wondered if people remembered what had happened to them last night. Whether anybody got hurt. You were so dizzy on the new weird feeling of closeness, you were borderline indifferent. You even asked yourself if Kai the witch boy did something to you to knock you a little but out. Being here, you can expect anything.

The kissing part was good though, and overall, he was good. It felt good.

Jerry returned, shrugging.

“He says some guy came and picked it up this morning”.

“Crap”, you groaned. “Which guy? Tall and dark?”

Jerry smirked like an asshole.

“Everybody here is tall and dark, but yeah”.

You couldn’t have come up with a better description of this wretched place.

Where to look for him now? The Salvatores seem to know him. Can as well begin from there. You lowered your head (carefully) and put it on the wheel. Not again. All the roads in Mystic Falls lead to the Salvatore boarding house, don’t they. You can’t go one year without any adventures. Every August, you say to yourself you’d be extra careful, not talk to anyone, not engage in anything, just sit at your house, and maybe you’ll be spared. It never works. Last year there was this werewolf invasion. The year before that, an insane witch coven that was in the middle of waging vampire genocide when you arrived. The year before that, someone slit the last Miss Mystic Falls’ throat in the park right in the middle of a juggler’s performance at the fair. This shit, every year. This town is cursed, there was no doubt about it. Now, you break your own rule, and go on a date with this witch guy, and he’s a fucking awesome storyteller, and witty as hell, and you feel something except regret and exhaustion for the first time in years, something like excitement. Like you’re waking up. And now you’re hungover, and he has your phone, and you have no idea where he is.

You started the engine and drove slowly, without a hurry, thinking, if I run out of gas before I get there, I might as well not reach them at all.

The front lawn of Damon and Stefan’s house was as green as ever, the sun blasting its deadly rays down on one slender crabtree standing aside like a shy teenager at the high school party. The big dark windows even looked friendly in the light of the day.

Leaving the car, you observed the house. It never changed throughout the years. The sound of closing the car door hurt you a little bit, but you already left your sunglasses inside.

Then you saw Elena in the window on the second floor.

She did not behave like usual. She was a vampire, and vampires don’t get scared anymore. Elena was banging her fists on the window like she was unable to break it, and yelling something you couldn’t hear. Suddenly, a loud thump came from the inside of the house, as if an elephant bumped into a wall at full speed.

The only reason Elena would be beating on the window like that was if she was locked in with magic.

Frowning, you kinda realized Kai must be inside. What has he done this time? You caught yourself thinking about him as if you’ve known him for years now. The little shittery in his eyes said it all pretty well.

Honestly, you just needed your phone.

You entered the house, pushing the unlocked door, and stood in the hallway to listen. You could now hear Elena screaming on the second floor. She was trapped like a cat in a cabinet, and rushing from wall to wall trying to get out.

Someone else was apparently throwing furniture at the walls in silent fury. That must be one of the Salvatores.

You stepped on carefully, and tried to get into the living room, when there was stumbling, and, like in an 80s slasher, Kai Parker limped out into the corridor, holding his side. His white shirt was stained with blood dripping through his fingers. The wound was very deep because the blood wouldn’t stop. However, his face had a completely normal lively color, which confused the hell out of you.

“Hey!” he called, with effort. He even waved at you with his bloodied palm.

“How are you after last night?”

You stepped to him, putting your hands on the wound, and he let go of it, placing his arms onto your shoulders. Your knees caved in a little under his weight.

“What the hell happened? Have you attacked them?”

“Me?” Kai exclaimed, “no, that’s my sister. She came, locked the vampires up there, and stabbed me, and then escaped like the little coward she is. Olivia, that is, not Joe”.

“I thought you only had one sister left”.

“Nah, I hadn’t told you the whole story”.

You both looked inside the living room where the things were just... they were just misplaced chaotically like, as the siblings fought, they were throwing armchairs around. You led Kai towards a couch and sat him there, pressing his hands into the stab wound, and stepped away towards the kitchen to look for something.

“You can heal yourself, right? You have magic now?”

“I can’t heal myself, I can only siphon life force out of someone to cater the cut. If you’re willing to sacrifice your life, I’m all down for it...” he mumbled. Walking around the turned up coffee table, you stopped, and sighed, as the old, old feeling filled you up yet again. Exhaustion, yes, that was it, the eternal Tired of doing the same thing again and again, going through this unnatural circle.

“Hey, I’m bleeding out here, babe, you wanna... uh...” Kai looked down at his wound, curious, because he, too, knew now something’s wrong. It looked like it didn’t hurt him anymore.

While you were standing over his body, laid on the floor, like a bird. His childlike lean, smooth face dead calm with his eyes open, white shirt all soaked in his bright red blood. Migraine was drilling into your temples with force. You looked back at him sitting on the couch.

“Shit”.

Kai looked back at you. He was a clever boy. Way quicker than the rest of them here. They were all wide eyes and miriads of extra questions, pacing around the room when trapped into the corner. Parker seemingly understood everything right away.

“I’m already dead, aren’t I?” he asked.

You remembered what he said last night. And it actually made your heart shrink a tiny bit.

Your hands were now clean, the ghostly blood having vanished, as all life left him. Now he was clean, too, no holes in his shirt, and he sat up straight. You knew he was slowly losing feeling in his hands and skin, too, and you hurried back to touch him before he completely forgets.

You fell down next to him heavily and took his arm, and he looked at his own fingers interlocked with yours.

“I’m dead again?” he repeated, with a little bit more irritation.

“Yeah”.

“And how do you see me? Does everyone in this town has a thing?”

You shrugged.

“I see dead people. It’s in the water, I guess. You know how they tell to never drink from creeks and stuff...”

Kai looked a little flustered. He would probably take it much worse if he was alone now.

“So, you were talking to ghosts last night?”

You pulled on his hand.

“You were stalking me?”

“Yeah, I was. I thought you were a mental patient”.

Kai threw his head back and looked in the tall window. His dark eyes turned grey as the light touched them. He looked beautiful when he was that calm.

“Damn it. What now? I have never died permanently before”.

You said,

“I don’t know. If I don’t let go of you, you will stay here forever”.

He eyed you, pondering.

“Who lives in your house?”

“My dad and grandmother”.

“And who’s on the football field?”

You shuddered on the inside. You wanted to smack him on the nose, but knew better than to assault people who have just passed and were fragile already.

“Kai, why were you even there? Were you, like...”

“It was my field. I came there every evening to watch the huskie...”

“Her name is Mist”.

“Edgy. Okay. I was coming there every evening to watch Mist, and then you just showed up and started running. Not my fault”.

“But I didn’t see you”.

“You’re averting again. Come on, Y/N”, he shook your hand lightly and squeezed it. He wasn’t noticing it, but his fingers were losing sensitivity and he kept squeezing your hand to feel the warmth. Soon, everything would go hard and cold to him. Even the sunlight.

“I’m dead. Tell me. My last wish”.

It was hard like swallowing rocks. Your own mind was so good at avoiding this that you came up with thousands of questions instantly. You wanted to ask why his sister killed him. Why she didn’t touch the vampires. How did she even outpowered him. Kai was drilling you with his grey crystal glance, and you finally managed to look him in the eye.

Out of all people, you were sorry he was the one to die. He didn’t seem like a very good fella, but it’s not always goodness that you like in people. He seemed bigger than Mystic Falls, greater than the local drama. This town wasn’t supposed to devour him like that. You didn’t know what his death meant to their odds at getting Bonnie back. What if he was the only one who could reach her?

“When I was fifteen, Damon’s ex came into town and started waging chaos”.

“I’m not surprised”.

“Uh-huh. She was going around, turning people, and manipulating them and generally just turning our lives into hell”.

“Oh, she sounds fun. Was her name Katherine Pierce by any chance?”

“If you know her, I’m going to send you to hell right now”.

Kai’s brows went up.

“You can do that?”

“I mean, when I let a ghost go, they go wherever they’re supposed to. You’re definitely going to hell”, you shrugged.

“Oh, yeah. Okay”.

Kai looked like he was a little bit hurt.

“She used compulsion on me, just to entertain herself, and during a PE lesson I stabbed a girl I went to school with. On the second lap, as we ran the mile. I got pissed at running, I hated it. I was so tired all the time, and she told me to act out when I get irritated at school. The worst thing, to this day, I don’t know if the stabbing was a part of her compulsion, or mine”.

You thought about her, standing there at this very moment, on the same spot where you left her every year.

Day and night, in her yellow tank top and sports bra, cycling black shorts and uncool old Nike trainers, her long brown hair in a messy ponytail, and one earring in her right ear. You knew every part of her face because she stared at you all the time.

Kai was quiet for some time, as if trying to read into you.

“That’s it?” he said suddenly. You were taken aback.

“You stabbed a chick because a vampire compelled you, and now you return every year and cry there? What are you punishing yourself for?”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“Look...”

“Why don’t you just send her the hell off? You can do it, right? What are you bitching about?”

“Hey!”

You let go of his hand, and he stared at it, looking a bit lost, like all the people who died. Despite of his shattering insensitivity, he still made you feel for him. People were all the same when they died. They all looked like children who are just figuring out they were lost at a huge foreign train station.

“Look, all I’m saying...” he was still looking at his own hand, “don’t stress about what you don’t have to stress about”.

“I killed her, Kai”.

“Yeah, and today my own sister killed me”, he reasoned. He looked so seriously betrayed as if he was not aware of the irony. “People die. Sometimes they die horribly, in their bloom, you know, when they’re about to do something great”.

He crossed his arms on his chest with a grudge.

“I thought you had some kind of tragedy there, or at least were insane”.

“I get why Damon dislikes you”, you muttered. Kai puffed.

“You’re very hard to love”.

“Yeah, I’ve been told”.

You looked at each other. Fresh day somehow brought memories of last night, and you thought about it simultaneously.

“But you liked our date though, right?”

You nodded.

“I would even go on a second one if you... stayed alive”.

“Let me go down there, and I’ll think of something. Or you can join me”, he eyed you up and down, “I hear it’s pretty hot in here”.

You could see he nearly gave you a wink. Even if you kissed him now, he wouldn’t feel it on his face. God dammit.

“You want advice?”

“No”.

“Go away and never come back here”.

You were holding on a thin thread supported by the connection. You were sorry to see him go as you let him slide away. As you opened your eyes, he was gone from the couch, and from the room, and there was only his body left.

The spell wore out eventually, and Elena, together with Damon, ran downstairs, already aware of what happened. They must have heard you talk to the invisible spirit.

“Awesome”, Damon snarled through his teeth, kicking Parker’s body, “amazing. Little shit”.

He was puffing, walking around the room, nearly banging on the walls. Elena was standing in the middle of the room, devastated.

Everybody was hurt in a certain way by the death of the guy hated here the most. Turned out, everyone needed him after all. Whether to get Bonnie out, or to finally merge, or just to know him a little better. Deaths were pointless, you knew that better than all.

You went to the football field, in the afternoon for the first time, to see her.

She was cemented there just like you wanted her, mortified she’d follow you around. Kai was sharp and rude, but on point. You were punishing yourself. It’s not like Maddie made you drive through the country every year just to see her.

She was waiting for you, looking with glass eyes like she was for the last seven years.

The sun was still high up, almost no shadows on the spacious court.

It was like it all made zero sense now. You didn’t know what made Kai Parker the chief advisor on your mental stability, but suddenly you saw everything completely clear. Maybe it was hangover. You had no need to keep all the ghosts around you. You were in charge of them, not the other way around. You bumped into them, you could tell them to go, or just leave them there if you didn’t care. Many years away almost made you think you didn’t care.

“Go”, you said to Maddie. And she was gone. No more laps around the field.

You went home and said the same to your father and your granny. And just like that, the house was empty again.

“I know you decided not to ever come back again”, she chanted, “but... I mean... I will understand if you refuse to come, but everybody would love to see you, and it will definitely mean a lot”.

Unfortunately for your morale, you were already standing over a sports bag.

You sighed into the phone.

“Okay, I’m gonna say it once, because I love you, and will never say it again...”

Elena held her breath.

“I don’t think... I don’t think Mystic Falls is the worst place on Earth...”

“Wow”, Elena hammered, “hold on, can I put you on the speaker? They gotta hear this”.

“No”.

“So, you will come?”

“Only because it’s your wedding. And only for the wedding. Then I’m going back”.

“You’ve heard the town has sold the house, right? You’ll have to stay with us. Y/N, it’s going to be awesome. We’ll have girls’ nights... oh my god, Caroline will tell you everything about...”

You rolled your eyes so deep you took a peep at your own brain. There was nothing in there. Absolutely nothing, apparently.

...here we go, the freaking sign, the Livingstones house, the bridge... all the same. It’s like a cursed room where the winds are on the loop. With its own aesthetic, of course. The blood-red clock tower produces long, hollow sound as its hands move. People going batshit crazy here. Everything is one long deja vu. The only thing that stood out was somebody missing. Somebody who was admittedly too cool for this place, and was scarily good at slow dancing. Somebody who would never be fit to help, and who still did. That person.

Elena and Damon’s wedding was everything one could imagine. Flower arch, check. Bridesmaids matching cream dresses, check. Soft elevator music, check. Caroline hair being out of this world, check. Damon smiling like one million dollars, check. Stefan suffering quietly in the corner, check. Jeremy getting drunk and knocking over a table, check. Dancing to the same ten indie songs, check. Bonnie was back, which was good. They did find a way after all.

You were comfortably unimpressed, because it was home. It was entertaining enough. Catching up, listening to all the crazy shit that happened during these two years you were absent.

Apparently, Klaus has been harassing Caroline with his undying love, and she wasn’t having it, although it was clearly a perfect vampire scenario. Some demonic weird crap brushed over the city when Damon was brifely involved with gathering souls for hell. Could’ve been a job for you, he winked at you like the rascal he was. You should’ve seen the whole madhouse unraveling when we opened the gates, and all these sinners started rushing out in all directions, he complained. It took him weeks to get them all back, and he still wasn’t sure he caught everybody. It’s not like they did a head count, right?

You stopped drinking.

“You mean the souls escaped from hell?” you asked, surprised that they weren’t more concerned about it. And also, what a generic topic to discuss at his wedding. Charming.

“No, the people. Physical entities. They kinda just... pfft. Hopped out. Those who were, you know, quicker”.

The burning question made it hard to swallow champagne. How did they not mention the obvious?

“And... who did you shove back?”

“Hm, just a bunch of losers. I mean, they’re people, or creatures, for that matter. Not all of them are human. I’m sure some weirdos are still out there.. So you be careful. Elena said you wouldn’t stay long, huh? How about the Harvest Festival though?”

“I don’t know. Harvest Festival is lame, Damon”.

“Yeah, it is”, Damon agreed, searching for his beautiful wife with his eyes. One second ago she was somewhere among the people, and now she was gone. “But the after party...”

“Ah, that. Sure”.

“Nobody’s bothering you anymore, are they? You can stay for a little while”.

You swayed your head without expression.

“Where the hell is she?”

Music changed, and nobody really noticed, except for you. You don’t notice if you don’t listen. You never got your old phone back, by the way. You had no idea where the dead boy put it, and whether it was him at all who took it from the Grill.

But now Lana was on speakers, and you suddenly remembered.

“You better go look for her, Damon”, you warned him, looking around.

The vampire felt the change in your mood.

“What is it?”

You gulped down your glass of champagne and smiled wide, for real.

“Second date”.

[ruddcatha]

Guardian Chapter 15

SURPRISE, the next chapter is here!

Things are getting intense, can Kagome handle the pressure?

WARNING, ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION ARE THEMES IN THIS CHAPTER

Thank you again to @heavenin–hell for your inspiration, I hope this story does your work justice.

posted on Ao3: Here / FFN: Here

Guardian has been Nominated for the Feudal Connection  2020 3rd Quarterly Inuyasha Fandom Awards!  Thank you to all the supporters of this story!!  Voting is now open and  runs through August 12, 2020, click here to vote.

Nominated for: Best AU/AR

Kagome would never forget how she had felt that day as they were ushered out of the weapons lab, Sango, Kikyo, Miroku and Inuyasha circling her, hiding her from the Ookami who lived in the Compound who had come running at the massive surge of energy.  She was grateful she hadn’t hurt anyone, although it had been a close call.  She could see how tired Miroku and Kikyo were, it took a tremendous amount of energy to place a barrier, and they had needed to form large ones… and FAST.

As soon as they reached the cars Inuyasha had bundled her into one of the back seat with him, holding her as closely as he could.  She hadn’t been able to process anything he said to her, between the massive drain of energy and the shock, her mind had gone into shut down.  One thought kept haunting her.

She had nearly hurt Inuyasha.

The tears she had kept at bay broke through the dam and streamed down her face as she began to shake.

“Shhhh, Kagome, I’ve got you.” Inuyasha’s voice broke as he whispered to her, one hand stroking her hair while the other held her to his chest.  “I’ve got you.” 

Kagome felt his yokai surrounding her, gently pulsing around her in a soothing fashion.  Slowly awareness began to seep back in.  She looked out the window and saw Miroku and Kikyo in a heated conversation, well, it looked heated from the way Miroku was moving his hands, Kikyo had gone into priestess mode, showing no expression and staying still, without any errant movements.  Shippo was talking to Jinenji, he seemed to be the only excited by what had happened, she could almost see the young man quivering with excitement.  Rin stood off to the side with her head tilted, watching Kagome through the glass.

Toga, Sesshomaru and Koga stood near the entrance to the weapons facility, deep in discussion.  She saw Koga hand a wrapped package to Toga with a nod before all three looked in her direction. The sheer anger in Sesshomaru’s eyes frightened Kagome and she turned to hide her face against Inuyasha’s neck. 

Toga watched the pair carefully, the sinking feeling of dread growing at what he saw.  Inuyasha’s yokai had enveloped Kagome, surrounding her frantic and spiking energy. 

He had seen the difference in her energy the moment Inuyasha had reached her in the chaos in the weapons lab.  He had watched as their energies had melded together, the golden colors blending and deepening the longer Inuyasha held her and had seen how quickly Kagome’s energy had begun to calm. 

Spiritual energy and yokai should have been incompatible, and with Kagome’s instability Inuyasha’s unconscious actions should have increased the instability, putting them all at risk.

But… it hadn’t.  Kagome’s energy hadn’t rejected Inuyasha’s. 

The implications of what that meant for his son terrified him.  He only knew of one pairing between a powerful priestess and a yokai, Midoriko and her mate Hoshiyomi.  He was one of only a few that knew they had been mated, that Midoriko had needed Hoshiyomi’s yokai to be able to fully control her abilities.

Inuyasha was strong, but as a hanyou, would he be strong enough to be Kagome’s stability? 

Kagome stayed wrapped in Inuyasha’s arms until they were back at the university, and even then, she refused to leave Inuyasha’s arms.  He picked her up and carried her to her room, and sat down with her on her bed, just holding her in his arms, rocking her back and forth.  Sango had entered the room at one point, but Kagome had tuned everything out but Inuyasha.  Every time he moved to leave, she let out a soft whimper and held him closer. 

He lay down on the bed, cradling her in his arms, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead until she fell into a fitful sleep, once again plagued with dreams.  This time, when she woke in terror and reached out for him, he was there to sooth her back to sleep.  With his yokai surrounding her like a cocoon, she finally fell into a dreamless slumber, knowing that Inuyasha was there to protect her.

After that day, the training sessions had become torture.  If she thought Sesshomaru had been hard on her before, it was nothing compared to his cutting and biting remarks now.  He had made her demonstrate move after move, throw after throw, criticizing her form, her technique, her lack of strength, her lack of control.  After the first day Inuyasha had snarled back, but Kagome’s hand on his chest had him backing down.  She couldn’t fault Sesshomaru for his criticism, he was right, and she knew it.

She had taken to isolating herself during breaks, she couldn’t sit still, she just couldn’t.   She didn’t want to feel their stares, hear the whispers.  They all knew now, and of course the yokai were afraid of her.   She had seen the distance they kept during training, surrounding her with human partners to keep the yokai out of range.  So, she had wandered, she knew the living quarter well but only knew the training room on that level.  Exploring gave her something to do, something to focus on.  One room had caught her attention, it was empty except for one item, a light gray vessel with white and black flowers that looked vaguely familiar.  She saw the sutras around the door, whatever the vessel was, it was well protected.

She felt a tinge of guilt, she had been actively avoiding Sango, but she needed to do this, to train, to get stronger, alone.  She knew that Sango would have joined her training sessions, but… Sango was one of her oldest friends, she couldn’t bear to keep disappointing her too.

Inuyasha had insisted on coming over each night with dinner, watching her until she choked some of it down.  She started running every night round the campus, waiting until Inuyasha left her apartment before taking off.  For the past two nights she had run for hours, she could not get the looks of fear, the anger in her ally’s faces, the sheer terror in Inuyasha’s eyes.  She knew realistically the terror had been for her, not of her, but that hadn’t helped her dreams any.  She would stumble home around two in the morning, and every night she jolted awake around four.  Now, instead of seeing a yokai kill Inuyasha in front of her in her dreams, she was the direct cause of his death.  She had watched as she had purified him, or her shot missed its target to strike Inuyasha, both times watching as he turned to ash in front of her.  

She refused to go back to sleep, refused to face that in her dreams.  She was spending her early mornings trying to meditate by Sanshiro Pond as she listened to the world come back to life, the song of the birds strengthening as it moved to the early dawn hours.  Her concentration waned as the song of a new bird caught her attention.

FUCK.

Every single noise distracted her, pulled her focus.  Tears streamed down her face as she curled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.  She stared at the lake, barely seeing the majesty of the sunrise around her. 

She had never had a problem focusing on a task before in her life, and now, when it mattered more than ever, that concentration was just… gone.  The past few months, finding out about her spiritual powers, realizing the world was more than just what she saw, that yokai, creatures of myths and legends, walked the earth, went to school with her, that she was quickly falling in love with one, the physical exertion… 

In the middle of all this, she had lost Kagome.

Now she was just the sum of everyone’s expectations.  And she kept fucking letting them down.

She tipped her head back and let out a scream before curling back in on herself. 

She wasn’t some superhuman, she wasn’t a superhero, she was Kagome, just Kagome.  But she didn’t know who Kagome was anymore, and that thought terrified her.

The alarm on her phone broke her concentration, and she pulled it out, the screen blurry through her tears.

Shit. She hadn’t realized it was already Wednesday.  It was her seven am wakeup notification, she had Evolutionary Anthropology at eight thirty, and the professor did NOT like when they were late.  Kagome stood and wiped the tears from her eyes.  With effort she pushed her emotions down, forcing them out of her thoughts.   Thankfully, most of her credits were field study with Totosai, but she had this one physical class for the semester. 

She ran back to her apartment, sighing in relief when she did not hear Sango up and about as she snuck into her bedroom.  She hurried to get ready, as she exited the bathroom Sango handed her a cup of coffee and Kagome pulled the mask of the old Kagome over her, going through the motions of their usual morning routine with a smile on her face. 

It wasn’t until she left the apartment that she allowed the mask to fall, the smile to fade.  She had been getting good over the past month at hiding behind the mask.  She was reminded of a saying she had seen on Facebook, faking a smile is the most painful lie, but it’s the most effective way to hide from all the questions. 

She couldn’t let them know, couldn’t let them see.  If you smile broad enough, no one sees the tears.

She was getting exceptionally good at hiding them. 

She made it to class with minutes to spare, sliding into a seat at the back of the room.  Her classmates had noticed that she had started to draw to the back, but none of them knew her well enough to know how unusual that was.  Sitting in the back allowed her to zone out, to keep her attention on other matters… like saving the world. 

She pulled out her notebook and started making lists, a new habit she had picked up over the past month.  Lists of moves to practice, to do lists around the apartment, lists of places she wanted to show Inuyasha… and the new one, lists of where she had messed things up in her dreams.  That was the most important list to her right now, she had become almost obsessive with analyzing her dreams in detail, focusing on where something had gone wrong, she lost a weapon, she didn’t adjust her weight right, and its correlating list of what to practice to keep that from happening.  Her professor’s voice droned on and on in the background, it quickly became white noise until the words finally registered with Kagome.

“… forget, your final term papers are due this Friday by midnight.  The information is in the syllabus, and I hope you have all been working on them as the semester went on.” 

Kagome’s eyes went wide, and she pulled out the syllabus.  There it was… the research project, 30% of the grade.  Twenty pages in length with at least ten citations to peer reviewed articles and studies, due that Friday. 

She stared at the paper in shock.  She had lost track of time, how… how was it early July already?  She saw the rest of the class packing up and felt panic rise again.

“Kagome, could you see me please?”  Kagome’s head snapped up to see the professor gesturing to her.  Kagome hesitated, then walked to the front of the room.

“Kagome, you haven’t submitted your research topic for approval, I do hope you have been working on it.”  Kagome felt the walls of the room closing in around her as her panic rose.  “You have chosen your topic, correct?”

Kagome took a breath.  “Yes sensei.  My paper is focused on the behavioral changes of the Edo Period of rural settlements as they transitioned from worshiping yokai to Buddhism and Shinto beliefs.”  She crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping it would be ok… would maybe Koga and Shippo would be able to help her.

Her professor nodded.  “I look forward to your paper Kagome, that is a fascinating topic.”

‘Now I hope I can do this in the next two days.’ Kagome thought to herself as she rushed to grab her bag and hurry out the door.  She needed to get to the library.

She flew out of the building at a near run, only to come to a stop as she saw Inuyasha leaning against a tree, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. Her eyes lit up at the offering of caffeine.

“My hero.” She cried out, running to him, and taking the offered coffee.

Inuyasha smirked as he watched her down half the cup without stopping. 

“And here I thought you were excited to see me.” He teased.  Kagome shot him a look as she finished the coffee., then leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I am, I’m just more excited for the caffeine.” 

Inuyasha let out a playful growl at her words, and his arms banded around her waist to pull her against him.  That damn smell of decay was growing stronger, and it was driving him crazy trying to identify what was causing it.  After the visit to the Ookami on Sunday, it had gotten more pronounced, cloying, and overpowering her natural scent.  He cautiously tried to sniff out the location of the scent.

Kagome saw his nostrils flare gently and a shiver went through her.  He was the one person, the one being, she needed to protect.  She quickly rose onto her toes, sealing her mouth against his, her bag dropped to the ground as she tangled her hand into his hair.  She felt his rumble of pleasure go through her as she let all the fear, all the anxiety faded away, losing herself in his kiss. 

He made her feel alive, his arms were the only place she did.  She pressed herself even closer to him, elation running through her as she felt, really felt, his interest in her, the growing pressure against her stomach as he deepened the kiss with a growl.   He lifted her off the ground and pulled her even closer, and she stopped thinking at all.

Inuyasha lost himself in her kiss.  Kagome had been quiet and withdrawn for the past few days, and he had missed her fire, her spirit.  He had missed her, even when they were in the same room, he missed her.  The scent of ginger flooded his nose, drowning out all other scents as he picked her up and held her against him.  He could feel his blood rushing to his lower body, felt himself begin to swell against her and heard her soft moan.  The feel of her pressed against his body, her heat seeping through his clothes, Kami he wanted… more.  He released her lips to press kisses down her neck before licking the junction of her neck and shoulder.  He felt more than heard her gasp as he repeated the movement.  

He felt his teeth lengthen, drawn by the feel of her blood.  Her pulse called to him, and he scraped his fangs against her skin, he growled as she tilted her head to give him better access with a broken whimper, her hand holding his face against her neck.  The taste of her skin was addicting, he needed more of it.  He nipped her skin, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to leave a mark.  He pulled his head back and licked his lips, his eyes never leaving that small section of her skin, the need to bite her nearly overpowered him.

With a grunt he forcibly pulled himself away from her neck to quickly lower her to the ground and turn away from her.  He placed his hand on the tree next to him to ground himself.  His claws tore into the bark of the tree, his breathing broken at the effort to bring himself back under control.

 ‘What… what just… what just happened.’ Kagome felt herself shaking as she stared at Inuyasha’s back.  She didn’t understand why he kept pulling away.

‘What… what am I doing wrong?’ Fear ran through her as tears began to spill down her cheeks.  She wiped at her cheeks, trying desperately to keep him from noticing, even though she knew it was a futile effort.  The salty smell of Kagome’s tears broke through Inuyasha’s desperation, and he pulled his claws out of the tree, shaking it to remove splinters before he turned to her.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.  His ears drooped as he faced her.  Kagome pushed the hurt down, forcing herself to push it to the side to deal with later… when she was alone.  She didn’t want him feeling worse than he obviously already did.  She didn’t need that on top of everything else.  She crossed to him to him and raised a hand to his cheek.

“For what Yash?” she said softly with a smile as he nuzzled his cheek into her hand before turning and giving a soft lick to her palm.  He pulled her close, the lingering scent of her tears blending with the soft smell of decay had him on edge.

“I don’t mean to dishonor you.” He said as he rested his head atop hers.  “I just… I lose my head around you.”

Kagome pulled out of his embrace to tilt her head at him. 

“What do you mean dishonor me?” she demanded, her voice sharpening before she could reign in her confusion.

He sighed.  “I want to court you properly.  To respect you.”

She smiled.  “Oh Yash.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek before taking his hand and pulling him down the path.

“Come on, walk me to the library?”

“The library?” Inuyasha was confused.  “We have training today.”

Kagome pulled away to turn to him.  “I can’t Yash.  I have a paper due Friday that’s a big portion of my grade, I won’t be able to train until its done.” 

He captured her hand again, raising it to place a kiss on the back of it.  “Then let me escort you my lady.” 

Kagome listened to Inuyasha as he talked about Sesshomaru’s latest exasperation with Jaken and Shippo, who had been joining them that week, the mask of old Kagome slipping once more into place as she smiled.

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

The next two days were a blur, Kagome existed in a sea of caffeine.  She could not remember a time when she had had so many cups of coffee, energy drinks, or 5-hour energy shots in such a short period of time. She had not slept in more than forty-eight hours, but she was on page fifteen of the twenty-page paper.  Her bedroom looked like a disaster zone, papers and books covered the floor, clothing was tossed on the bed and towards the hamper.  The only breaks she allowed herself had been a thirty-minute run to clear her head and taking twenty minutes to force down the food that Inuyasha had brought her Wednesday and Thursday evening.  She looked, bleary eyed, at the clock. 

It was seven am on Friday… she had seventeen hours to finish the paper, edit it and create the bibliography. 

She walked to the kitchen and poured herself another cup of coffee.  She downed the cup of coffee in one quick rush and stumbled back to her computer.  Just seventeen more hours….

She could do this.

@willowandfog​  @smmahamazing @clearwillow  @sticky-llama-perfection @alannada @shinidamachu @cstormsinukagblog@superpixie42 @nartista @neutronstarchild​ @i-dream-of-soup​ @hnnwnchstr  @fawn-eyed-girl​ @ all-my-cuffs-have-buttons @liz8080​ @pivora96​

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 70

August faded very quickly into autumn. September dipped in almost without notice. As you had suspected, there was no room for a vacation in your lives. You’d even doubly confirmed it with Tony, who wasn’t busy with anything but building that god forsaken army, for a reason you still didn’t really understand. You sort of did. But saying it out loud, or prompting him to… it was a moment the both of you were not ready for yet. You kind of understood it. You still had no idea what he’d seen through that wormhole, but you knew. You just knew. The thought of it was lurking in his consciousness every waking moment. 

And in all of his other ones. Sleep was difficult for him. Even when he did come to bed he was torn through with nightmares. The second he left one, he’d be up on his feet in a hurry. If you tried to get him to stay in the room he’d just pace in frustration. You had to let him go. You had to let him work. Because you couldn’t heal him. Not even, when you thought one time you might try to impart some calm to him. Try to help. It was about the only way you could- but his own feelings were so strong they drowned you almost immediately. Sending you into a panic you almost didn’t crawl out of. 

He was growing stronger. And you? You seemed to be getting weaker. 

So you retreated. Shut that part of yourself out. If he could overwhelm you like that, you knew it wasn’t safe for you to be so open. And what happened if something was wrong with you? And you made him worse? You couldn’t take that chance. 

That’s when the distance really started creeping in. You began spending more time at work, and he barely left the lab. For you, there always seemed to be ten meetings back to back, and a never ending pile of paper work. You had proof of concept meetings and deadline meetings and tech demo meetings… the holiday season was right around the corner, and Stark Industries was gearing up to release some really amazing things on the market- not to mention Avenger rights had just been proofed and signed. 

You didn’t want to make the Avengers into some trite team solely for toy property, but it was better to have that paperwork now. So you could go after people who tried to abuse the name later- which they would. They always would. You were trying to protect your team. And… sure, your net worth was in the billions, but the Tower didn’t pay for itself. So a few action figures on a few store shelves never hurt anyone. And the team signed off on it anyway- all except Thor. Who you still had no idea where he was. Or if he was even coming back. 

Fury’s furious phone calls got put on a backburner, light blinking endlessly. You had the sneaking suspicion at some point he was going to come to your office and unleash hell but. Until that moment… you were just doing what had to be done. Honestly. Really. Truly. And Tony, in the middle of one of your harried exchanges, had said it was a good idea, too. So that was that. Papers were signed, you shipped out documents for Avengers’ signatures, and it was a done deal.

That was exactly the kind of needless work you buried yourself in. If only to keep your mind on something. Anything. It was halfway through an email that two people below you could have handled that you realized you really were exactly like Tony sometimes. Except he was putting his racing mind to work on something he thought mattered. You were… holding down a fortress that sometimes you were pretty sure didn’t need you. It was in one of those moments, not that one, more like several days later, that you thought about picking up the phone and calling Rhodey. Asking him for that list of therapists. Or… “JARVIS?” Wondering if he was still at your beck and call. He was no doubt servicing Tony in the lab, but he also had said he wanted to keep steady in touch with you. 

“Yes, ma’am?” He answered exactly on time, one second after you’d called for him, steady easy voice filling your office. 

But now that you’d called him, you felt a little embarrassed. “Uh- never mind. It’s not important.” Ducking your head to scribble nonsense on some paperwork, pretending to work. As if that would make him go away. 

“I very much doubt that.” 

You pressed your lips together, and then let a deep sigh escape you, shoulders drooping. If you didn’t keep working you were liable to doze off. You could feel the tiredness seeping in, now that you were speaking to a much more friendly voice. A homey voice. You wondered briefly what Tony was doing. “Do you… do you still have that list of therapists? Oh- actually… I think I remember you saying you could put one together- not that you did- so- never mind-” Speech rapid as you basically were trying to talk yourself out of this as much as him. 

But of course he was not going to let it go. “I have a list, ma’am, yes. Would you like it?” 

“Hmn…” You cradled your chin in your upturned palm as you sat your elbow on your desk. “Are they… local? Or are they like… New York? Or…” 

“Considering your reputation, Ms. INY, I am sure they will travel to assist you.” 

You weren’t really sure what to make of that. Sure. People would come for the right price. Or- as he was saying- because you were you. And Tony was Tony. But were those the kind of people you wanted? Ones that wanted to drop everything for money and the chance to speak with a pseudo-celeb? A superhero? Probably not. 

JARVIS broke your unending silence, “I sense you are having second thoughts.” 

“I don’t know. Yeah. I guess. I think… I think maybe it’s just- therapy might not be for me-” Definitely trying to talk yourself out of it now. 

“How will you know that unless you try?” 

He just had to try and make sense for you. He was right, too. How could you possibly know unless you sat one session? Met some therapists? You couldn’t. You were just… “Is Tony okay, JARVIS?” 

The abrupt switch in topic seemed to throw him. His response was delayed by several seconds. “I’m not qualified to make that assessment, I think.”

“You’re the most qualified out of anyone else I know.��� 

“Save you, I assume.” His sass at least got you to smile briefly. But when you didn’t answer, he resumed. “He is troubled, ma’am. I’m sure you’re aware. I’m doing my best, but I am not sure what I can do to help him at this moment. I’ve attempted to keep track of his sleep records, in order to try and get him to recognize his own patterns, but he rebuffs me every single time.” 

It didn’t surprise you that JARVIS was trying to help. In fact, it just warmed you. He was so much more than an AI. You’d known that for a long time now. He was part of your family. And he loved Tony, for as much as a program could. You were sure of it. So to see Tony suffering… JARVIS must have been hurting as much as you. 

“And you, ma’am, you haven’t been sleeping much either, lately.” 

And then he had to go and do that. Because if he was keeping an eye on Tony, he was keeping an eye on you. He’d already said as much. “I know.” 

“You come to the office far more than is required of you.” 

“I know…” It was like getting scolded. Just without the harsh tone. It still felt the same. “I don’t know what else to do. I’m scared if I stop for too long I… I don’t know… when it’s too quiet I just…” Flashes of New York passed somewhere behind your eyes. The ringing in your ears of battle. 

“I believe you and Tony are suffering from the same thing. And this time apart from each other is only worsening the effects.” 

Tony. JARVIS was doing that thing again. Where he spoke intimately, familiarly of the two of you. Your head lifted, eyes looking to the ceiling, as you always did. Picturing him up there. Somewhere. Watching down on you. “I think you’re right.” Looking after you. “I should go home?” 

“I think you should-” 

Your office door opened suddenly causing you to jolt, as if you’d been doing something you shouldn’t have. JARVIS shut down completely, his voice disappearing. Pepper stuck her head in, sensing she may have interrupted something. “Sorry- is this a good time? Your five o’clock is here.” 

While you were almost completely positive you didn’t have any more meetings this late in the day, it wouldn’t have been the first time you’d been so consumed with your own thoughts and grief that something had slipped by you. You had to take a breath, smoothing out the lines of your skirt, pulling your jacket, and tucking a few stands of hair behind your ear. Just trying to appear normal. “Yes, that’s fine. Who is it?” 

Instead of answering you she stood aside- unusual for her, she knew better than to just let people wander into your office, even if they had an appointment. You needed to be prepped for these things. Because as an older but kind looking bald gentleman was wheeled into your office by a tall gorgeous woman with long white hair, side shave, and sharp blue eyes, you really had no idea what to make of things. 

Awkwardly you stood, half reaching over the desk when he offered his hand. “Uh- sorry, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. …?” Damn it, Pepper. You looked like an asshole. 

He shook your hand back and you felt a little more calm as he smiled up at you, especially when he waved his hand prompting you to sit. “You can call me Charles. The pleasure is all mine.” 

Before you could gracelessly dump yourself into your chair you stood a little higher to offer your hand to the woman he’d come in with. “And Mrs. …?” 

She chuckled. A warm sort of noise, shaking your hand in a strong grip. “Just Ms. Munroe is fine.” 

After getting that out of the way you finally allowed yourself to plop into your chair. “Charles and Ms. Munroe. How can I help you?” 

Charles shifted forward, settling his hands together. “You’re a very busy woman, and I respect your time. You’ve been quite hard to get a hold of.” 

“I’m sorry. There’s been a lot going on.” Understatement of the fucking century. 

His smile grew into a soft grin and he laughed. “Believe me, I understand. I won’t take up too much of your attention. I’m not sure you got our paperwork, I’ll leave some for you. But let me get right to the point… I have a school for gifted children, in upstate New York. I was hoping to get you to come visit.” 

Your expression overtook you before you could help it. Suspicion and… “Me?” Doubt. Gifted children were not your forte. It dawned on you. “Oh- you must mean- you want Tony to come give a speech or something?” Put stars in their eyes. Tell them to put their best foot forward. So on. So forth. “I can put it on his schedule-” 

“No, you misunderstand me. I’m asking you to come by. Mr. Stark’s presence, while welcomed, is not required.” 

Warning sirens were going off. This seemed fishy. “I don’t think I’d be a good fit for an environment like that.” 

Charles’ smile grew ten times, and those kind eyes of his flashed. “I think you’re wrong. I think you’re exactly what we need.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” Being completely honest. Anything you did want to say needed to be backed up with a lot of research first. This may have just been another scam. Or somebody- Charles in this case- needing money or even seed money for this school. It wouldn’t be the first time someone would ask Stark Industries for something like that. It wouldn’t be the last- 

...but he wasn’t asking for that. Right? If he was, he would have just said it. He wanted you to come over there. For what? With everything going on in your life at this point, you couldn’t be too careful. 

“You don’t have to say anything. Here. Take this.” He held up a folder. “Go through it at your leisure and call me when you’ve decided.” Seemingly leaving the decision up to you. As he had to. It wasn’t like he could force you to go. And if they were super villains or something… surely they would have put a bag over your head and just stolen you by now, right? ...right? 

This would be the absolute perfect time to… do something you shouldn’t. To… maybe try and get a read on him. A little one. Small. If he was trying to deceive you, you’d be able to feel that, right? So as you reached out, and laid your hands on that folder, you stared at him but just beyond, slipping into that dark space. 

You sensed… resilience. Strength. And need. He needed something from you. But what was it? What would your being at his school do? 

He smiled at you again, and it was as if he’d put a knife between you. Severing the connection. “At least tell me you’ll consider it.” Breaking your concentration completely. 

“Yeah- ...yes, sorry. I’ll take a look-” 

Right on time as you were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, your office door opened again. Instead of a nervous Pepper, a sure-footed Tony stepped into your office. He was wearing one of those sharp suits of his, red with a skinny crimson tie, and in his arms he had a bouquet of wildflowers. “Sorry. Is this a bad time? I interrupting anything?” Asking, as he knew exactly that’s what he was doing. 

You stood on uneasy legs. “What are you doing here?” Dressed like that? 

“No interruption, Mr. Stark.” Charles spoke as Ms. Munroe wheeled him around to face Tony. He offered a hand. “It’s a pleasure meeting you. We were just on our way out.” 

Tony reached out with his free hand to give him a fast and sturdy shake. “How ‘bout that. Great timing. Nice meeting you.” Speaking efficiently. Quickly. In that way of his where he was letting the both of them know he was on a mission and not really in the mood to hear anything else. 

Some might call it rude. 

Luckily, Charles seemed to not take it personally, and Ms. Munroe continued wheeling him out of your office. Though he spoke your name one last time before exiting, stopping at the door. “I look forward to your call.” 

“It was nice meeting you…” Voice unsure now that he was mostly gone- and then as Ms. Munroe shut the door behind the two of them, you directed your attention on the man who had thankfully interrupted that suspicious meeting. “Should I ask again?” 

He only smiled, stepping closer in, over towards the desk, offering the flowers. “Honey, I’ve been thinking.” 

“Do you ever stop?” Trying to play at mad, but it was impossible. You took the flowers into your arms, giving them a small inhale. 

He shook his finger at you. “Good point. Uh- hey before I get into it, what’s going on with the tall drink of water driving around Ms. Daisy?” 

A snort of a laugh escaped before you could even think to stop it- and it shouldn’t have. What a terrible thing to say. You put a hand to your mouth. “Tony.” But at your reaction he only grinned hard. “I don’t know. His name is Charles, by the way, and Ms. Munroe. They want you to go speak at their school I think.” That made the most sense, right? They were trying to charm you first, so that they could get in good with Tony after the fact. Most people tried to pull that one on you. 

It never worked. 

“Put it on the schedule. Anyway. Now that that’s out of the way.” Clearly not caring in the slightest. Probably just checking that everything was copacetic. Sliding in closer, he put an arm around your waist. “Like I said- I’ve been thinking. I know we’re both busy. But, if you think you could stop being busy for a few hours…” 

There was a flutter of frustration, it was difficult not to show it. He locked himself in the lab at all hours but the second he decided it was time to be together, then that was it. “You’re trying to whisk me away because it suits you.” 

His expression vanished and a vague sense of guilt crackled along his edges. “I know I haven’t been doing the best. Or. Even close to it. But. I also know I need to try. So I’m trying.” Something you did appreciate, to be sure. And his trying was the only way the two of you were going to climb out of this hole together. So you couldn’t just shut him down. “And- hey, it’s Friday. I was thinking- why not make it a thing. Fridays.” 

Your brow lifted. “You want… to start doing date nights?” 

That was so- 

That was so…

Normal. 

Normal!!!! 

His brows knit, lips pursing slightly. Sure that he’d lost you. “...cheesy idea?” 

Dropping the flowers to your desk, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lifted up to kiss him senseless. One after another. Normal. You could lead a normal life? Could you really? Was it possible? The two of you were busy- but he wanted to make time. He wanted to do date nights. “It’s a wonderful idea.” One more kiss. “Thank you.” 

                                              -----

The night turned into something very wonderful. Something very special. Because Tony was present. He was there. When he looked at you, you could tell he was looking at you. Not looking beyond you, or letting his eyes glaze over. When he talked to you, he was talking to you, and when he listened he was really listening. He wasn’t just passively participating in conversation he wasn’t interested in. He wasn’t miles away. 

He was there. With you. In that moment. 

He’d gotten you a back table at a restaurant that had a waiting list ten years long. But for Tony Stark? A table was always open. The place also had a private lounge where boozy couples sat in big plush chairs while other similarly drunk couples aimlessly waltzed around the dance floor. You and Tony eased yourselves with only a couple glasses of wine with dinner, talking about things that didn’t matter- the most important things of all right now.

How your day had gone, how things were. What his latest suit looked like. How Dvahli had scratched up the corner on one of his ultra expensive couches. How Bruce had called to say hello earlier… just little things. Life things. Normal things. 

When your plates were empty, dessert come and gone, you two indulged in some of that intoxicated swaying down in the lounge. Other celebrities parted in your wake, and respected your space while the two of you held each other close and merely swayed along with the soft band playing just beyond you. Your head eventually found his shoulder after he twirled you around the one time and you laid your hands on his chest. Murmuring sweet a little, “I love you.” And then, “Thank you…” 

Intensely enjoying just a night of being together. Not worrying about everything else that moved around you in an endless frenzy. His hands stayed on your hips, just holding you close while you stepped in and out of time together. It wasn’t really even dancing at this point. His lips lowered to your ear, whispering in a hot murmur a secret only you were allowed to hear, “I love you more.” 

It drew giggles from you, and instead of vocally protesting- for how could that even be close to being true- your lips slipped over his, and his hands reached up to cup the sides of your face. Keeping you there. For too long a time in present company. But nobody else mattered. 

The lull of the evening was broken when the two of you stepped outside, and he slipped his jacket over your shoulders as you waited for the valet to come back around. An annoyingly familiar voice called both of your names, and when you turned, it was like she’d appeared in a haze of smoke. Probably right from the depths of hell. “Christine Everhart. How can we help you?” Not doing much to hide your disdain. Tony’s arm came around you, quite protectively so. 

Christine held a recorder up. “I was wondering if you’d like to comment on a story I’m following. Sources say Stark Industries is turning away families from their supposed clean up fund- families who need the most help. Are your funds are going to people who can do without. It’s all for show.” 

You held your own. “You might wanna recheck your sources or you’re looking at a libel suit.” 

“Source works for you- or used to. Until you fired her for doing her job.” 

At this you really couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I fired her because she was doing what you’re saying-”

“So you admit it.” 

“I fired her because she wasn’t doing what I instructed. I was very clear about a no minimum policy. She decided to do whatever she wanted. So when I found out about it I fired her. You know, Christine, I used to kind of respect you. But now it seems like you’re just chasing headlines and less the truth.” 

Her lips quirked to the side, crossing one arm underneath the one holding her recorder out. “You think it’s right for private citizens to cause wanton destruction with no care and murder with no charges filed? Care to comment on that?” 

“If you’re talking about the Avengers and the attack on New York, you’re a few months behind. I’ve addressed this enough. You can’t really be that blind. You just asked me about the cleanup fund we have in place. Go bother somebody else.” Really having had enough of her nonsense. 

She swung her recorder up Tony’s way. “What about you, Mr. Stark? Care to comment on the fact that a private US citizen is allowed to fly around in a suit of armor and dispose of whoever he pleases?” 

“Gosh, Christine, it’s really nice running into you. Here, of all places. Who tipped you off? Was it the waiter? The maitre’d? How much did you have to pay them?” She opened her mouth to answer him just as the car roared to a stop on the sidewalk. He held a hand up to her. “Ah, you know what? Don’t answer. Probably not enough.” He held open your door for you and you climbed in, spotting him hand the valet a couple hundreds. Then he walked around the car, giving Christine a lackluster wave. “Have a good night, won’t you?” 

WIth that he sat in the driver’s seat, wasting no time in putting the pedal down and firing out of the parking lot. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. You could sense the frustration leaking off of him. Reaching over you put a hand on his leg. “We’re alright.” 

“It’s not us- what- you think I’m worried about her next gossip piece?” Aiming a rather dry look over your way. “Someone told on us. In a place that’s supposed to be bred for a quiet night out.” What he was saying was he felt violated. And he was right. Celebrities were supposed to be able to come and go at their leisure without being photographed or bothered by the Christine Everhart’s of the world. 

Someone ruined his dinner plans with you. That did not sit well with him. 

“What are you thinking?” Not completely worried he was about to do something brash. 

At least until he said, “I don’t know. How about buying the place? I think you’re about to object.” 

“Do we need a restaurant?” 

“Well I don’t know about need.” Flexing his hands on the wheel as he came to a stop at a red light. “It’s just. I don’t know.” He took half a breath in and then sighed it out. You waited patiently for him to come to a conclusion. “It was fine, when it was just me. You know? Shutterbug. Camera darling. But when they’re coming after you… I have a problem with it.” 

It was seemingly impossible for him to melt your heart any more than he already had. Or dig himself a further hole inside of it. But he did almost every day in some way. Even when the two of you were wading through life’s troubles. The light turned and he sped off again. “We’re alright, Tony. I’m okay. I can handle her.”

He shook his head. “It’s not about handling. You shouldn’t have to.” 

“Kinda comes with the territory.” Whether you liked it or not. That was life. That was life with him. That was the life you’d chose. 

“LIfe’s not gonna change because I feel bad about it. But just know that I don’t care what it does to my reputation- or yours- or the company’s. If you get ambushed and you feel like taking off without a word, don’t second guess it.” He wanted you to be safe. Safe in a world where that wasn’t really an option. 

The evening had been ruined- by a smaller version of events that were akin to the same ones he was feeling restless about. You felt like you were starting to get to the root of the issue, here. He couldn’t always be around to escort you into a car or stand strongly behind you or protect you. 

You waited until he pulled past the gate and up the driveway, putting the car in park. Then you reached over, palm against his cheek, turning his gaze to you. His hand went up to hold yours in place. “We’re okay, Tony. I’m okay.” Assuring him again, more gently this time. 

His eyes searched yours. “Yeah.” But his tone was weak. Not assured at all. “Yeah…” Just like that his gaze unfocused. And his mind was gone again.

[madphantom]

The Sound of Life - Chapter 12

And so it happened that Winslow and Phoenix were finally invited to the Music Industry Winter's Ball, along with every musician that was considered a living legend. Winslow was crazed. Phoenix was planning her outfit. They both arrived in black because they were just that Goth.

They had just gotten themselves something to eat when somebody new entered.

"The Sorrows, Ladies and Gentlemen!", the newcomers were announced. Winslow turned around in interesting to take a look at them.

Sidney August was a pale Irish Redhead. John Samuel Sobek was short, thin, Canadian and had platinum blonde hair. And Juan Miguel was a Mexican with Emo bangs and piercing grey eyes. They looked ridiculous. Phoenix suppressed a chuckle. "Alright, Imma head out and question our concurrents."

"Have fun." Winslow smirked.

She laughed. "Ooh darling, I will." And disappeared in the crowd.

Somebody tapped Winslow's shoulder and he turned around. Behind him was a petite young man with light brown skin and black curls. He was smiling shyly. Winslow recognized him immediately. "Michael Jackson, right?"

The young star nodded. "Hi. You're Winslow Leach, am I correct?"

"Yep. I have your first solo album. Really good. I loved She's out of my Life and Don't stop til you get enough so much."

"Haha, thanks." Jackson blushed a little. "I had a lot of help. I'm a huge fan of yours, by the way."

"Thank you."

"I was wondering whether maybe we could collaborate some day." Jackson looked increasingly nervous.

Winslow smiled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea! I'd love to."

Jackson handed him a little note. "My number," he explained shyly. "I know, I'm younger than you, but I've been in this business for a longer time. It can be quite rough at times. If you need help just call me."

"Thanks," Winslow replied and put the note in his pocket. "I will."

Jackson gave him a shy smile, then Paul McCartney popped up next to him. "Mike, c'mon, you gotta meet Prince!"

"I know him already...!"

"Publicity, kid." McCartney pat the young man's shoulder. He gave Winslow a nod. "Winslow Leach, am I correct? I heard your last single on the radio. Good stuff. If your next one is just as good you'll probably have a splendid career in front of you."

Winslow smiled. "Thank you, Mr McCartney. Big fan of yours, by the way."

"Thanks. Mike, don't run away!" He caught the young man by the sleeve and pulled him along. "It was nice to meet you, Leach."

"Same."

"Winslow Leach?"

He turned around to see a tall man with long red hair and reddish eyes. "Yes?"

The man bowed in an old-fashioned way. "What an honour to meet you. I am Loki Lilson. You may have heard of me."

"I may have."

Lilson smiled, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. Winslow felt slightly attacked. His tongue wandered over his own metal teeth. Well, at least they wouldn't break off if he got into a fistfight.

Lilson was taller than Winslow.

"I've heard your first single," he said. "The Hell of it. Interesting title. Any experience with hell?"

Winslow laughed. "Yeah, could be called that."

Lilson smirked. "Oh yes, I forgot. Your little adventure with Swan." He sighed. "Swan as a person may have been a genius, but his music...confidentially, it was horrible. The man had no taste."

Something in Lilson made Winslow want to run away and hide. There was a cold aura around the man, filling the air with frost.

Suddenly Phoenix appeared by Winslow's side. "Hey, Winsy, you wanna dance?"

She glared at Lilson.

"Sure," he said and gave Lilson a nod. Then he followed.

"Phoenix, it's a terrible confession but I can't dance," he whispered halfway to the dance floor.

"Me neither," she whispered back. "I just wanted to get you away from that guy. He was... creepy."

"You thought so too?!"

"Yeah. I don't know, I felt so cold around him."

"So did I."

"Let's go and get ourselves some food. Also... have you seen Harold's partner?"

"No. Who is it?"

"You won't believe it." Phoenix led him to the buffet where he spotted Harold with a short frail girl with black curls and a Gothic black dress. It was only when she turned around that he recognized her. "Ellie?"

She grinned. "Eyoo, bro."

Harold blushed a little. "I hope you don't mind, Winslow..."

"No, no, of course not! Where's Sandy then?"

"Having the slow dance with Archie."

"Oh my gosh."

Phoenix laughed. "You know what?", she finally said. "I need some fresh air. Let's get our asses outside."

Literally the second they were outside Phoenix realized she'd forgotten her coat and hurried back in, leaving Winslow alone outside. He was looking for Orion among the stars when he heard a familiar voice.

"Mr Leach."

Winslow turned around to find Lilson standing there, with a smile on his face. "Hi."

"I've been looking for you. Where's Mrs Leach?"

"She went back in to get her coat. Should be back any minute." Please hurry, Winslow thought.

Lilson smirked. "Ah, yes. The cold. It's quite a surprise how cold a Winter's night can be here in the city." He walked over to Winslow. "We didn't finish our talk twenty minutes ago."

"Right. The talk. Uhm...what was it about again?"

Lilson laughed a little. "Oh, right. Forgive me. I have a little offer. A deal."

"I'm listening."

"I know that our singles were both treated as hits." Lilson smirked again. "Most tabloids are already wondering whether we'd team up or become bitter enemies."

"So?"

"What I'm offering is: We leave each other in peace. No collaboration, we're way too different for that. But no rivalry either."

Winslow raised an eyebrow. "Scared a rivalry might be bad for your business?"

Lilson chuckled. "Oh, no no no. My business is in safe hands. No, I just want to save us some nerves. Think about it - no negative comments in interviews and everything's alright."

Winslow smirked. "I'm tempted, Mr Lilson, but I'm worried you won't keep your word."

Lilson raised his eyebrows. "Oh dear. I guess you know me too well then."

"No, actually I just have some experience with people not keeping their word."

Lilson smiled. "Oh, yes. Swan."

Phoenix appeared behind him.

"Why the fuck is he here?!", she signed.

"Help, get me out," Winslow signed back while saying: "You're absolutely right, Mr Lilson."

Phoenix hurried to his side and faked a laugh. "Oh dear, Winslow, I've been looking for you everywhere!" She was about to say something else when suddenly Winslow heard a ticking noise in the bushes.

"Get down!", he yelled and pushed Phoenix away.

The garden exploded.

Instinctively Winslow grabbed Phoenix and covered her. He felt the heat on his back. The light of the explosion illuminated everything for a terrifying second, then it was over.

"Oh my God, what was that?", Phoenix whispered.

"I don't know," Winslow replied shakily. "Are you okay?"

"Ye."

"Good." Winslow turned around. The garden was destroyed. A cloud of smoke was floating above the burned grass. A bomb, he realized.

"Oh my God!" Michael Jackson appeared next to them. "The explosion was right next to Loki Lilson! That must have killed him!" Jackson was pale and shocked. For a treehugger kind of person like him this had to be a horror.

Somebody appeared in the smoke. A person was walking towards them. They flinched.

And suddenly Lilson stepped out of the smoke, perfectly unharmed, not even a burn mark on his suit.

Phoenix' eyes widened. "But... I...I saw the explosion...Mr Lilson, you were right next to it!"

"Nonsense," he snarled. "I wasn't. What are you waiting for? Contact the police!"

As it turned out, the bomb had been laid by some anarchist who was protesting against the luxury of the ball. He was arrested and the cops drove off. Winslow and Phoenix left.

"He was right next to the bomb," Phoenix said in the car. "I saw it. He was standing in the middle of the flames and yet nothing happened to him. How is that possible?"

"I don't know," Winslow replied.

[niall-is-my-dream]

You & Me - Part Three

2890 words

You were both definitely tipsy.

Two bottles of wine and a shed load of Chinese had been consumed and you were both laying next to each other on the sofa, in a semi comatose state. Your night of Netflix has been abandoned, instead you'd carried on listening to music.

"This sofa is ridiculous." You mumbled.

"Why?"

"It's just ..........so so big." 

Niall burst out laughing, and he turned to you with a smirk on his face.

"What?" You questioned him.

"Nothing, you're just funny!"

"Glad I'm keeping you amused!"

"You always keep me amused."

"You're welcome." You giggled.

You laid in silence for a few minutes, wondering if you should ask the question you wanted to ask. With some for encouragement you asked him.

"Ni, can I ask you something about Saskia?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Why did you date her? I mean, yeah she's beautiful but I just don't get it."

"What do you mean?"

"You're just so humble and down to earth, it was one of the reasons I wanted to work with you. When I was first approached about working with you I googled you."

He sat up as you spoke, his voice high. "Oh did you?! What did you find out?!"

"Don't be so flattered. I always Google people I'm asked to work with. Let's just say, I should've done it for one person I worked with, as it was well known apparently about how difficult they were! But lots of people were saying how nice you were and Saskia was just shallow, I just didn't understand your relationship. You were different when she was around to."

He laughed a little nervously. "You know me so well and we've only known each other a short time."

"I find you easy to read, well sometimes. Not been able to read you so well recently."

He looked down at his lap. "I always seem to pick the wrong girl I suppose. So wowed by their good looks and charm at first and then when you get to know them they just aren't what they seemed like at first.

"Well you know it's ok, you're a guy with a dick. It's perfectly normal to be attracted to someone like her and the others you've dated."

 "Cal!" he said laughing.

"What?! You have a type and a dick, it's perfectly normal Ni, you don't need to be ashamed!" You said sitting up next to him.

You both paused for a second before he answered you.

"People in the industry understand the difficulties in maintaining a relationship or dating someone. I travel so much that it just seemed to make sense to date someone who does similar."

You thought for a minute, deciding whether to open up to him or not. But your drunken mouth just said it anyway.

"My relationship with my ex broke down due to my job. He wasn't happy to be left behind while I followed you all over the world. I have worked so hard to get where I am and be asked to work with an incredible artist like you. I wasn't going to turn it down."

He smiled at your compliment, a light blush on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry that happened. He's an idiot to let you go."

"Well, he moved on pretty quickly so I'm sure he's doing fine."

"What a dick."

"Yeah, but I'm ok with it. Wasn't meant to be." You shrugged.

"You're a beautiful and amazing person Callie, inside and out." He said turning to face you.

You remained silent, unsure of what to say to him. His eyes searched yours and you felt a blush to your cheeks. He brought his hand up, feeling the heat on your face, his thumb running across your cheek. His blue eyes were blown dark, a look you'd never seen from him before, they flickered from yours and down to your lips.

He slowly leaned towards you, and your breath hitched at what was about to happen. Brushing his lips gently across yours, you reached your hands up and tangled them into his hair. He was going at an incredibly slow pace, his lips teasing across yours leaving them tingling and wanting more. He shifted his body towards yours, his hand still stroking across your cheek. When his tongue licked across your bottom lip, you opened your mouth and your tongue met his.

Moving his hand away from your face, he gripped your hips and you deepened the kiss. The low music from the sound system was still drifting around the living room, the only other sound was your breathing getting more rapid as the kiss intensified. You broke away for second as his hands lifted your hips slightly, encouraging you to straddle his lap. His lips were plump and his face flushed but there was no hint of regret in his eyes.

He reached for you again, bringing your lips to his, and slowly moving his hands to settle across your bum. Everything else in the world seemed distant and the only focus you had right now was Niall. You wanted to discover every inch of him and as if he knew what you were thinking, he let a low moan tumble from his lips as you paused for a breath.

This desperation for each other continued as you kissed, his hands roaming up and down your back. His hair was soft and you gripped it hard, tugging it to get as close and deep as you possibly could to him.

You could feel him getting harder beneath you as his hands moved your centre towards him, causing a rush through your body. It was the jolt you needed to pull you from this lust, this shouldn't be happening. You worked for him and this was purely just fuelled by the wine and the sad stupid love stories you'd shared.

He knew you were pulling away, could hear your brain ticking away in your head. And as if by magic the sound of your phone ringing helped you escape the trance completely.

You jumped off his lap, your hand instantly covering your mouth as if it would help stop you from kissing him again.

It was Bex.

"Hi!" 

"Fucking hell Cal, where are you?"

"I'm just at Nialls, we got takeout after work."

"Can you please text me next time. I just got in from my date with Willie and you weren't here. It's gone midnight I was worried."

"I'm so sorry I worried you Bex, I was just heading home now."

"Getting an uber yeah?"

"Yeah, go to bed and we can catch up about your date in the morning."

"Oh Cal, it was great, he's just such a nice guy."

"I'm pleased babe. I'll be back soon."

"Ok, night Cal."

You hung up the phone, but didn't turn around to face Niall.

"Um I'm just going to head to the loo and then I'll get an uber back, it's been a long day." You said as you stood up from the sofa.

 "Yeah sure, I'll call you an uber then." He sighed.

You hurried out of the living room and into the loo, taking a deep breath you relayed what had just happened over in your head. 

Your head was pounding when you woke up the next morning. Serves you right for drinking all that wine.

The memories of what had happened last night came flooding back to you. Why had you kissed him? This was going to make things so awkward.

Luckily there were no rehearsals for the next ten days as Niall was away for his golf work and was in Ireland for the NI Open.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you found the flat quiet, Bex was obviously still asleep. You took a long lazy shower, trying to wash away the memories of the night before. But you couldn't. His mouth, his lips, the way his hands had squeezed your bum pulling you closer to him. You found yourself letting your hands wander at the thought of him. Fingers teasing your clit and pinching your nipples, pushing you over the edge faster than you've ever gotten yourself there before. You were panting, as you tried to bring yourself down from your high without making too much noise.

Stepping out the shower you quickly dried off and threw on some denim shorts and a vest top. You'd just got the kettle on when a dazed and sleepy Bex walked in the kitchen.

"Morning babe." You said.

"Morning." She replied, a small yawn escaping her lips as she settled on the stool at the kitchen island.

"So how was your date?" 

"No no no love! Wanna tell me why you were at Niall's place last night, alone and at midnight?!"

"We had a busy day, he had a run in with that Victoria Secret model he was dating and he needed a friend. So we got takeout together and hung out." You replied before quickly turning around to get out the mugs for the coffee.

"Anything happen with you two?"

"No, we're just friends."

"Hmmmm."

"Don't hmmmm me. That's all we are."

"Then why are you blushing?"

"I'm not, I just got out of a bit shower and it's a warm day."

"Bullshit!"

"Whatever. So are you going to tell me about your date then?"

She paused for a second, realising that she wasn't going to get anymore information from you, before launching into the story of their date.

"So you're going out again then?"

"Yeah, going for a picnic in Hyde park tomorrow!"

"Oh how romantic!" You squealed. "Knew you two would get on well!"

"I know, he's so sweet. Anyway I've gotta get ready, I'm meeting my mum in an hour. Just going to jump in the shower."

You nodded as you took a sip of your coffee, before grabbing your phone and heading out onto the balcony. August in London was beautiful, the sun hit your balcony in the morning and you liked to drink your coffee while browsing your social media. Home comforts that you'd miss while you travelled.

Laughing at a Facebook post your aunt had posted, the screen changed and Nialls name appeared across the caller ID. You couldn't ignore him.

"Hi."

"Hi Cal. " He replied sounding almost surprised you answered. "How are you?"

"Yeah good. You?"

"Yeah good, actually no. I feel terrible about last night. I'm sorry I kissed you, I thought you were giving me the signals that you wanted me to. I um.. "

"Ni, it's me that should be apologising." You replied cutting his mumbling off. "I was giving you the signals and I shouldn't have. I know that you're not interested and it was just a drunken kiss. It shouldn't have happened, we got caught up in the moment.........."

He let out a long low sigh.

You sat looking out across the park opposite your flat, nervously chewing your lip, unsure about what to say next. The silence was killing you.

"Yeah, you're right." He whispered.

You couldn't work out from his voice if he was upset or relieved about what you had said. He had become so difficult to read these last couple of months.

"Are we ok Ni?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Are you all set for your trip?" 

"Yeah, leaving later tonight. Got a few days with my family before the event starts."

"That'll be nice."

Things were awkward.

"I'm going to finish packing. I'll see you when I get back."

"Have a good time."

And then he was gone.

Your chest felt tight and you could feel the tears threatening to fall. Taking in a deep breath you held them back, making your way back into the kitchen to grab some food.

Niall had text you a couple of times while he was away, the first one was a picture of his view of the golf course from his room. After sending your view pictures from your holidays to each other, you'd begin texting each other whenever a view was beautiful. You'd replied with your feet up on the railing of your balcony with the view of the park with the sun seeing in the background.

The second time was a picture of a long line of cocktails sitting along the bar with the caption "this could get messy!" You'd replied back a picture of your mug full of tea, telling him you were in for a wild night to.

If he had not text you first, you knew you wouldn't have text him this week. After your conversation that Saturday morning, you had spent the afternoon wallowing around in your bedroom over analysing the conversation.

After him texting in the week, like he always did, you were even more confused. When you'd first met him, you of course had found him attractive. However you didn't even contemplate that he would ever kiss you or that anything would ever happen between you. He was easy to like, he was funny, warm and you enjoyed his company. You'd pushed all your stupid little fantasies about him to the back of your mind. Yet since he'd kissed you last week you'd thought of him constantly. A dull ache in your heart that wouldn't go away. 

When rehearsals started back up that Monday morning, you both acted as if nothing has happened. You didn't know if you were happy about it or not.

The last week of rehearsals had flown by and before you knew it, you were packing up your stuff to head to Dublin for the first show. You were only staying a couple of nights so didn't need much, it all fitted into your small weekend suitcase.

You were just tidying up your bedroom, folding some clothes when you heard the buzzer to your flat go. You looked through the peep hole and saw Niall.

Shit.

You looked a mess.

An old grey vest top and matching shorts, your hair needed washing and was tied up in a messy bun. You at least had a bra on and shaved your legs.

He buzzed again. You had to open it.

"Niall, Hi!" You said, as if you hadn't known it was him waiting outside.

"Hi, am I interrupting anything?" He said surveying your very casual outfit.

"No, I was just doing some chores. Um, come on in. Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

"No I'm good. I hope that's it's ok that I stopped by? Willie gave me your address."

"No, it's fine. You could've text though, look like a right state!" You laughed.

He laughed to. "You look cute. Don't worry."

"So, what can I do for you?" You replied, breezing across his comment, walking towards your room. Your bed was full of clothes, all freshly washed and waiting for you to continue sorting them.

"Can we talk about what happened? It's been driving me crazy all week."

You were worried this was why he had stopped by.

"Yeah, what did you want to talk about exactly?"

"Did you mean what you said?"

"What part?"

"The bit about how it shouldn't have happened and it just being a drunken kiss."

You carried on folding your clothes, not being able to look at him. It had been easy saying it over the phone to him, not having to look in his eyes as you said the words.

"Um, yeah I mean it was, wasn't it? We work together and it's made it awkward this week."

"It's probably been awkward because that wasn't just some drunken kiss and you know it. It meant something to me and I can tell it meant something to you to."

You forced yourself to look at him, he looked confused and upset. It broke your heart. Finally allowing yourself to breathe, you sat down on the edge of your bed.

"It did mean something to me and I wanted you to kiss me." You sighed. "And God, when you pulled me into your lap, touched me, kissed me hard, I just...... It felt so good but, I mean I work for you, we're friends, and not to mention it's probably completely unprofessional of me to have kissed you."

He stood by the end of your bed, obviously processing what you had just said before taking a seat next to you.

"When we hugged after I found out Slow Hands was number one in America, something that night just felt different. I don't know how to describe it.............just needed to be near you all the time. You make me laugh, you keep me grounded, you always know when I need your input with music. We just click. I was gutted when you left that night."

You lifted your head and turned to look at him. His eyes began searching yours, trying to see whether he had made a complete fool of himself by telling you how he felt.

With one hand leaning between you on the bed, you turned and stroked his cheek with your free hand. A small smile appear on his lips and he closed the gap between you. He kissed you gently at first, before you laid down on your bed, pulling him with you.

Part Four

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/182650998318/you-me-part-four

[rkmason]

2017 SEPTEMBER 6, MAKE A WISH ROME ┄ ·˚

it’s sad to think that this would be the first time in three years that she wouldn’t be spending his birthday with him. the first time in a number of years that she wouldn’t get to see his face ripple from surprise to happiness in a matter of seconds. a small wonder jihyun likes to add to her own very detailed list of things she adored about rome – whether he knows about said list has yet to be disclosed ( though, she was sure he did know a few of her favorite things about him ). this year comes a little too fast, too much happens within the span of days leading up to his birthday that plans that have been made from the month prior are stalled – they’re crossed off her list of things to do and instead changed to fit the time. 

gone were the silly costumes and the small, intimate gathering. she’s back to square one and left with nothing but her gifts and an unwritten note before her eyes. she hates to think he’ll be without her this year,  so she tries her hardest to make up for it. details are back into place, a new plan in motion as she hurries within the span of a week to get everything in order ( on top of packing her bags and not feeling overly emotional ). she prepares the notes in order; polaroids scattered at the bottom of the box on top of the jacket she has nestled at the bottom. each layer holds a piece of her heart, among the many others she knows rome cares for. if jihyun couldn’t be with him on his birthday, she hopes that a small piece of everyone could make up for it. 

she hides the box in the very same place, the most frequented place in her apartment – the coat closet at the end of the hall. a trail of pink sticky notes lead him quick; hung several days too early. the most remarkable is the red one placed at the surface of the box’s cap. 

    DO NOT OPEN UNTIL YOUR BIRTHDAY ❤                    absolutely no peeking ! 

she has no way of knowing if he’s seen it before his birthday ( a text or so could spoil the surprise ) but she leaves it be, the fate of his gift is in his hands. whether he opens it early or not is if he so wishes – jihyun wouldn’t be there to stop him.

once opened: the box is covered like every other gift he receives from jihyun. a mess of confetti and tissue paper, of crumpled old seoul newspapers and crazy fashion pages. all of which cover up a perfectly wrapped box; sky blue wrapping paper with crisp edges and a red ribbon to lock it in tight. unwrapped lies a black cassette tape with scotch glued to the front. hangang 한강 scrawled in black expo marker casts a name to an otherwise unknown device. beneath the wrapped cassette tape lies another mess of white.

below the second crumpled mess that was white tissue paper and ripped up newspaper was a black letterman jacket; leather on the sleeves, wool lapels and gold accents. on the right side of the lapel, written in white calligraphy was his special moniker B.YU. jihyun knew the saying by heart, how could she not – it was one of the first things she remembered him saying when she first met him. his own special mantra, one that screamed individuality more than anything. another thing added to her list. the back was the prime jewel; written in white ink were names, signatures actually, of all his k-illustrate buddies, of seik and dabin, of his siblings, of yixing, yien, ariel, bobby and her own. ( she was going to get hyemin and jaewon to sign it but she couldn’t only do so much ) and to top it off, along the shoulders were his family’s signatures; a feat that literally did need the week intermission before his birthday, their signatures were the cherry on the cake. and if jihyun couldn’t be with him this year, the least she could do was get his family to somewhat be there. they’d be there with him, at least – hypothetically. 

and last, but certainly not least, were the photographs – something that had literally taken ages. what were supposed to be hung from the ceiling of a rented bar were the polaroids that jihyun had spent almost all summer collecting. from june to the very last second of august. each and every polaroid showcased every member she knew loved rome almost as much as she did. of all the people she had garnered signatures from, their faces shine bright in colored print. from those who held the jacket gifted in their hands, to just the people themselves, all smiles and notes written on each white plane. small greetings of birthday cheers and wishes for the birthday boy are scrawled in black ink. a tale jihyun knows will probably take rome ages to get through; especially when it comes to the polaroids of his parents and siblings. she knows it’s not enough but she hopes it makes up for her absence. her own frozen in time in her very own polaroid; the black letterman caved around her thin frame, her face all smiles for the camera, already knowing rome would be the one looking at the image. 

her message reads:

happy birthday, love ! oh my god, you’re getting so old.  i can’t believe you’re already 22 ! who knew you would survive this long here in seoul ~ !  hah, kidding ~ of course you’d survive. you’re wolverome, you can get through everything you put your mind through ! especially this year, you’ve been through so much and i’m so proud of everything you’ve overcome. i’m especially happy to be by your side, seeing you through everything. your ups and downs ( even though you’re literally the worst and never tell me when you’re hurt, istg if you break your arm again i’m going to break your ears ), and just being with you makes me happy because you’ve just been there and i’ve always needed someone to keep me sane, to remind me that i’m so much more than what i think of myself.  that’s why i’m in love with you and continue to love you because you never forget to help me remind myself of who i am. i also love who i’ve become since i’ve been with you, and i’ll never forget it. god, this is so cheesy. i’m running out of space and you better not bug me about any of this later but –

i love you, you goofy sap ❤

it’s all written in english, squiggly writing – nearly scrawled up and down, front and back; all the way from margin to margin until there’s no room left to write. 

and the very least is when the ‘hangang’ cassette tape, as it’s so labeled, is placed in the record player he had bought for her on her birthday two years ago. when play is pressed, it begins like any other song. the small change in tone is one jihyun is unfamiliar with when it comes to recording songs, it’s her first korean song she’s been able to record among the many she has written. it’s the first she’s given, ever. the fact that it’s for rome makes it all the more special, especially when he was on her mind the whole two years it took her to write it. of course she had help composing the beat, but the words, themselves, worked out for the best. 

they’re from the heart, every which way. truly, madly, deeply the song sparks memories from years ago, even before seoul. of blue seas and a new city to be explored. of a young boy and girl just meeting and blurring the lines of friendship before the first kiss that never came.

( until almost six years later ) 

it’s a small piece of her heart, a little more of her soul further placed in his hands – this time her voice comes along for the ride. what little she could do is nestled in this box, her heart, her smile – her voice was his to have. her love was already his, anyways. 

He’d been through it before. Hell, he could say he’s used to it. Days and even nights in the apartment without her. This is different. It feels empty without her and he used to feel her presence in the place when she wasn’t there. Now as she prepares to move, he feels pieces of himself fall out of place within the four walls. It wasn’t about the fact that she was achieving her dreams. He wanted that for her, he’d do anything to make sure she gets everything she wants, but it was that he felt like he was losing a piece of their history. They’d gone through so much in this apartment alone. His heart had been beaten and brought back to life with such small hands. He’d found sadness and the greatest joy he knows right here. Besides, Domo was starting to accept him more and more these days. Can’t dislike the hand that feeds you and takes you on walks, right? 

Leaving the apartment was leaving a piece of his head behind too, hoping she’ll come back to reclaim it and that’s the real reason he’s saddened over it. Because he wishes she could stay in his arms forever but she belongs on a stage. He’s known that from the moment he’s met her and he pushes a sigh away as he opens the door, Domo running in before him once the leash is off. When Domo crosses in front of him with a flash of pink, Rome panics. Fuck, what is this dog eating now? Since moving to Seoul, he’d never searched “can dogs eat _____” so much in his life. Chasing Domo takes a few years off his life and he questions his stamina as he plops down on the couch, smoothing out the paper against his thigh and staring at it confused. “How’d you get this, bud?” 

He’s ignored, to which Rome isn’t surprised, as the dog wanders back towards the source and he puzzledly realizes there’s more. Post-its form a line towards a familiar place and he can’t help chuckling under his breath as he opens the closet door, wonders if it’s their own hidden treasure trove because he can’t picture receiving anything he wouldn’t love in this closet. What was once a secret hiding spot for a gift she didn’t think she was ready to give him is clearly painted out for him this time around. It reminds him of how he wanted to make every memory better, stronger, the way he feels around her. The reason he wanted to go back to the beach from that night is probably the same reason she wanted to do this again because they deserve happier stories, because embracing their past and moving on to the future is what he does best when he has her. He can take on the whole world as long as he has her on his side. 

The next few days feel like pure torture and after being asked if he already opened it when he sent her a snapchat of his discovery, he told himself he had to have the will to wait. Rome can’t say patience isn’t a strong point of his when he waited so long to be with her. A few days to wait for whatever she’s prepared to capture his heart all over again isn’t too bad. His patience dwindles the closer to his birthday it gets and if it wasn’t for his friends taking him out, he would’ve opened it right at midnight, would’ve opened it during the phone call he makes to her just to hear her voice. He had no idea that he could’ve opened the gift to hear her voice again too. 

He can’t see her but she still takes his breath away like it’s her special skill and Rome has half a mind to tell her to list it the way she told him to list his shoulders years ago. It’s still a skill he proudly shows off. The sheer amount of time it would’ve taken to do this baffles him and he’s speechless, glad he opened it in private except for the curious eyes of Domo as he moves around the apartment. Restless legs taking him to the couch to the kitchen counter and back again as he holds onto the jacket for dear life, polaroids in his hands. What magic does she have to make him feel so weak, so hopelessly in love with her? He’s been holding back tears since he caught sight of his family’s familiar handwriting and he finally understands why Chris has been such an asshole sending him smirking emojis without a single word because he’s the last to understand just how much she loves him too. 

Years ago, he thought this was it, that he’d pine for her the way he did since that summer, since the kiss he waited months for, since he first heard that intoxicating siren song. Years ago, he thought he’d drift out at sea forever, now he knows she’s always gonna lead him home. He held back the tears the whole time until he read her letter, until he can read the words and swears he hears the i love you as he does. 

Years ago, they’d made a promise. Spend each other’s birthdays together and he isn’t with her right now, but this feels close. His heart swells and hell yeah this is pretty close. He hasn’t even gotten to the tape when he’s reminded of it by Domo nudging it with his nose. Listening to it brings him back to sand in his toes, the sun in his eyes, and his heart in someone else’s hands. She brings him home again and he wishes he could do that for her too, he wishes she was home. When his phone lights up, when a certain ringtone plays, he thinks he’s a fool again. Distance is nothing with a love like this. 

[peacefulwriter88]

Sunday Showers

Steve Rogers x WoC, Curvy Reader

Warnings: Language maybe. Just some angsty fluff and some mentions of SMUT but nothing too serious

A/N: We just had a really nice rainstorm and I thought it would be nice to write some fluffy, cuddly time with Steve. Even though I could be persuaded to make this a part 2 that’s all SMUT because I’m all about Steve Rogers right now……

Summer hit the city with a vengeance that you didn’t think anyone was prepared for, least of all you.  It was the kind of heat that got under your skin, where even if you got naked you’d feel like it wasn’t enough to soothe you. You hated the heat. You hated humidity and you hated this feeling of never finding relief whenever you left your air conditioned small apartment, exaggeratedly moving from building to building to soak in the cool, artificial wind.

You were a Midwest girl, used to dry summertime where even though it may be unbearably hot, you could still go outside and enjoy the nice weather. When you had moved to New York, it had tested you. You had almost caved and moved back to your hometown, the city tucked away in the Rocky Mountains to find relief.

But then you had found a job with Stark Industries, then a few years later the Avengers and then a few years after that you had found yourself wrapped in the arms of Steve Rogers. So you tolerated the frigid winters, barreled through the humid summers because ultimately you were doing your dream job in engineering and design and you were in love with arguably one of the most pure human beings on the planet.

But not without complaint.

Steve, on the other hand, didn’t seemed bothered by any of it. Went for a run at 5:30 in the morning during any season, unaffected by the extreme hot or cold. Would still wear his leather jacket whenever he’d take you out for a ride on his bike when you both wanted to escape the city. Found it endearing when you complained that your ice cream had melted into your hand after two minutes because it was just that hot, not because you were a slow eater and the melting of it was inevitable.

You argued it was because of the stupid super serum that made him human being 4.0 – his body taking in outside sensors and evolving with them to accommodate the fact that he was built to be a soldier, to not be bothered by mindless things like the weather during a high stakes mission. You had to joke about it because all the other things he was capable, including his slow aging process would keep you up at night. Couldn’t imagine what it would mean in twenty years when your knees started popping and your naturally tight skin started to dent itself with wrinkles. No, that was a road you only wanted to explore when you had to be confronted with it. Cowardly sure, but the idea of death paired with knowing that it was going to evade the person you loved longer conflicted and scared the shit out of you.

So instead you focused on his inability to be heavily affected by the weather, complaining about how it was inhumane to make New Yorkers travel on the muggy subways because you always showed up to work a dripping mess. Refused to ride with him because you had to cling on to some semblance of your independence and didn’t want to be known as Steve’s girl. So you bitched and complained about, hitting that it was only June, June. What the hell were you going to do come August, when the heat was going to hit the city with a vengeance? And Steve always responded with misplaced pop culture references,

“This isn’t Raiders of the lost Khan, or the Wrath of the Empire. You can always opt into taking one of Tony’s town cars since I wouldn’t want to press you to just ride to the compound with me….”

You always responded with sticking out your tongue, wondering how you had failed him to mix three great nerdy movies of this century together.

This is what you’re thinking of as you look at the back of an almond butter jar, wondering how many artificial ingredients are in the generic versus the overly priced non generic. It’s Sunday, and the day had started off cool and humid. It was like breathing in the ocean, or wadding through a hot rain forest where the droplets were invisible. You and Steve always made a point to shop at the cute mom and pop store down the street from you together on Sundays, to plan meals and try to bring some form of normalcy to an otherwise non-normal life. Despite your insecurity about your curves, the way you were self-conscious about your thighs you had gone out in your favorite pair of jeans shorts, throwing on a crop top because at this point fuck caring about how you looked, you just needed relief. Cool, cool relief.

Steve was at your side, pretending to look over your shoulder and be interested in the ingredients you were comparing in both of your hands. Except his fingers were sneaking into the waist band of your jeans, placing soft gentle circles against your skin that would occasionally cause your breathe to hitch as he drew you closer to him, the subtle hint of his erection teasing your ass. Reminding you that he wanted to finish what you had started this morning, waking him up with his cock in your mouth as you blinked up at him innocently, relishing in the scratchy way he moaned under your control.

He had been gone for a week. So sue you if you wanted to show him how much you missed him. The problem was of course that you let him finish and he wasn’t able to reciprocate, getting more pleasure in getting you off. Instead you had changed into your short shorts, throwing on a top and insisting you both had to run to the store because you didn’t even have any milk for your cereal and what kind of woman can’t even make her man cereal for breakfast. Really, you were just a tease, knowing he’d go along but insatiably be unable to mask his lust for you, how much he wanted to show you how much he had missed you.

The fun was all in the chase.

“So what’s it going to be boss?” his voice is low and sultry, and you fall back into his firm chest, holding up the generic bottle while saying,

“If Tony has taught me anything is that corporations are totally after the man! It’s not only the same ingredients but this jar has less sodium.”

You place the overpriced jar back in its place on it shelf and Steve chuckles, taking his time to watch you as you push the cart down the aisle. Knowing he was probably checking out your ass, and a glimpse of your shoulder confirms it. His eyes are heavy lidden, the stormy slate that only infiltrates his irises when he’s in full blown lust. He bites his lip, shaking his head as he follows you.

“You’re going to be the death of me…”

You giggle, making sure to shake your ass a bit as you move onto the produce. You both continue this game of cat and mouse, you teasing him while making him make decisions with the groceries and Steve going along because deep down you know, just knew, that he loved it just as much until you’re in the checkout line, looking intentionally at the prices while Steve off handily starts chatting to Mr. Grinkowski, the small store owner and one of the few people left in Brooklyn that still owned the business he opened up forty years ago. It wasn’t like you and Steve were strapped for cash, you both made more than enough to survive the expensive neighborhood of even Brooklyn thanks to Tony and the Avengers, you had just grown up having to be mindful of  your spending and its intuitive to monitor your grocery budget.

You much rather spend any extra cash on a night out on the town with Sam or going shopping with Natasha. And Steve always benefited from your tipsy state or need to be him extra shirts he always seemed to tear through.

Win, win.  

Mr. Grinkowski and Steve are talking about some baseball game he was trying to convince you too (gross – watching men throw a small boy at a tiny stick sounded horrible in this weather. Alcohol or no), in the position he had been your whole grocery expedition while you cringed at any wave of humid air that wafted in when a customer entered or left the store. Bracing yourself for the block walk (yes, you were extra. Whatever you deal with the mess your hair turned into because of the thick, water molecules that accosted it) back to your place, wandering if you could convince Steve to give you a piggy back ride and imagining all the things you wanted him to do to you when you all hear it, the loud sound snapping you all out of your stupor.

It resonates within the store and for a second you brace yourself for a large demi-god to come barreling through the store ceiling, demanding that Steve join him to protect earth because some kind of asshole alien, or alien leader or whoever at this point wanted to make humanity its slave bitch. Again. You were tense for it, along with Steve who is now placing you protectively behind him but instead it’s a low rumble that tramples throughout the rest of the city, like a hoard of wilder beast let free.

Another snap of thunder resonates through the store and Steve relaxes as Mr. Grinkowski finishes with your groceries, a sigh of relief as he tells you the price. You throw in your card, starting the quick process of paying as he chuckles,

“Better hurry up and get home so you kids don’t get lost in the rainstorm…”

Steve starts collecting all the bags of groceries, balancing all heavy six bags with ease as he smiles,

“She’d just love that. She lives for summer storms.”

Mr. Grinkowski laughs as you finish paying, shrugging with a smile on your face.

“Any kind of relief from this heat.”

Steve tries to keep up with your slow gait as you walk the pathetic block home.The sky has become consumed by darkness, rumbling like an empty stomach and all you want to feel is one drop, one small drop of relief from the static humidity that still lingered in the air. Instead you are greeted with nothing, and give an exaggeratedly frustrated sigh as you start up the stairs to your 7th floor apartment.  

“It’s probably best we don’t get rained on with groceries. It could ruin half the things in here.” He says, throwing you that paternal look that has you rolling your eyes.

“Whatever. We’d just buy more after the rainstorm. It’s just soo hot.”

He chuckles as you near your door, and you hastily dig in his pocket for the keys, saving him the struggle to find the small collection of metal. Your hand brushes against the taut muscle, twitching from the gentle touch of your hand as you pull out your keys and you laugh as you pull out your treasure, shaking your head as you stick the key into the lock.

“You know, for someone who is supposed to be a straight, clean guy you sure are horny all the time.”

The door clicks, signaling it’s unlocked and you wiggle the doorknob, giving it a hearty two heaves before you stumble into your home, ignoring the way he laughs at the exaggerated way you always opened the door. But it was old, worn, warped and sticky and unlike him you didn’t have the strength of a thousand men. Just your thick thighs and hips to get you through.

“I haven’t had sex in almost 90 years, can you blame a guy when he has the opportunity to have it every chance he can with the woman he loves.”

Despite the adoration filling each word, his voice is low and almost inaudible and you turn, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. Despite being with him for two years and knowing him for longer, Steve was still shielded when he spoke about the most intimate parts of your relationship. Unlike you – bold, outspoken and unafraid to speak whatever was on your mind – Steve was contemplative, strategic and thoughtful with the words he choose. Always showed you his affection versus voicing it and it still made you smile when he was vocal.

Steve responds to the way you are kissing him, the way you open your mouth to his tongue as he presses you and the groceries closer to his body and you feel his erection twitch again, stronger, and you smile against his lips. You can hear the first burst of clouds, releasing the imprisoned droplets as it slowly drummed against the window and you pull away, biting your lip.

There would be plenty of time for that later.

“We’ll have time for that later,” you say, another loud crack hitting the sky before you hear it hit. “Let’s not miss it.”

He gives a knowing smile, despite the way his eyes drink you in before he’s dragging the groceries to the kitchen. He only digs out one item, the two pints of ice cream and sorbet you had insisted you both would need at some point during the week while you walk to the window, trying to wedge the sticky frame open. Because everything in the old Brooklyn apartment was either wedged or stuck together. You manage to work it open an inch, then two, before Steve is behind you, easily grabbing the sill and pushing it up. You give him a frustrated look, elbowing him in his hard chest as you mumble,

“I could’ve done that.” Before you’re stepping out onto the fire escape. The rain is coming down in steady beats, cutting through the humid air and replacing it with a light, cool breeze and you take your time swaying up the three flights to the roof over your overly priced one bedroom apartment. Steve takes his time behind, you’re sure to ensure your safety while enjoying the view of your ass and following you to the edge where you easily find a seat, your ass automatically cold and stained as you swing your legs over the side. He finds a spot behind you, tucking you safely between his muscled thighs as his arms protectively wrap around you. He had found it odd, your affinity to want to stand in the rain, but always endured the wet discomfort because he knew the peace you received to be doused in the cold, wet rain. To get lost in the quiet music of the drops falling down to earth, soaking into everything it touched, cleaning it anew.

“I love a good summer storm.” You mutter, falling back against his chest and listening to the steady beating of his heart, the peaceful way his chest rose and fell.

“Me too.”

“It’s such good therapy. To stop for a minute and just get lost in the rain….” Your voice is lazy, drawling over each syllable and Steve nods as he rests his head on top of your own.

“It’s true. It’s nothing like taking the time to appreciate the little things that give you happiness.” He makes sure to give you a squeeze, drawing you closer and you wrap your arms around his own, holding him close as you both look out into the city. Drinking in the others love, not needing to say the words to know what lives between the both of you.  

You both stay like that for ten minutes, before more rain starts to pelt down and you finally give into Steve’s insistence that you need to head inside or you’ll catch a cold. He helps you down the metal stairs, making sure to easily catch you just in case you slip and as you crawl into your air conditioned apartment you can’t help your teeth from chattering, another cold shiver spreading up your spine.

“Ittttss… fucking…..freezzzzinngg….”

“That dirty mouth of yours,” Steve chuckles as he shimmies in, shutting and locking the window before frowning at the pool of water that’s found its way on the floor from where you’ve both entered and moves to the kitchen to grab napkins to mop it up.

“You were the one complaining about the heat. Now you get some relief and you’re too cold?”

He throws you a skeptical look as he finishes cleaning up and you shrug, pulling at your top that was getting itchy against your skin and throwing it into a dirty slump at the floor. Knowing he hated when you threw your clothes haphazardly but would be too distracted by the way your breast looked in the bra he loved seeing you in.

“Whatever. I’m going to take a nice, hot shower. Warm up my bones,” you throw a look his way. “Feel free to join.”

You barely make it to the bathroom before his strong arms are over you, already stripped of his shirt as he carries you to your large stall.

“Gotta make sure to get you warm so you don’t catch a cold.”

Special Tags for @wellthirsted @itsthecometcoffeebooksandfandom @squidneysbooty @sweetpeasqueen93@shutupandbemyprince @badassbaker @supernovasandcoronas @microgirl8225 @xgminigypsy @

ladyamandapanda12

[forestwater87]

Nature Family

@ciphernetics did a very very good thing and came up with the best AU idea ever.

I ruined it. Enjoy the ruining.

“David?”

He glanced up, his eyes widening. “Yes, Nikki?”

She was one of the only campers left waiting at the pick-up spot, having wandered away from Max to explore a mysterious rustling from the bushes. (This, it turned out, was a squirrel; Quartermaster seemed more than capable of sorting it out and had pulled her away from the animal by her overalls.) But . . . Well, David had to admit that he'd been so worried about Max being lonely or upset about the summer ending that he'd almost forgotten about the adventurous young camper. So it was with no small amount of guilt that he met her  eyes, watching anxiously as she scuffed her toes along the ground and glanced over her shoulder at Sleepy Peak Peak.

“Well, uh . . . I think my parents aren't coming?”

David sprang to his feet, leaving Max to continue drawing in the dirt and ignoring him. “Don't be silly! It's only noon, after all! And Max is still here,” he added, gesturing at him.

Max looked from David to Nikki, something almost like concern in his expression. “David, are you being fucking stupid again?” He stood, pouring as much resentment into the motion as possible. “What's up, Nik?”

She shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “It’s just that Mom said Dad was picking me up yesterday because of his Sunday Golf Tournaments, and he didn’t. So . . .”

“What?!” David tried to keep his voice calm, but he couldn’t help wincing as it leapt up to what Gwen called “dog-whistle levels.” “Wh . . . why didn’t you tell us that, Nikki?” As a matter of fact, why hadn’t her parents told them that? They were in charge, after all!

“I was gonna, but then Max and Neil decided to try and blow up the Supply Shed and that sounded like more fun!”

Oh, dear. David whipped out his phone and sent a quick text to Quartermaster and Gwen: ‘stay away from the supply shed might be dangerous’ Then he narrowed his eyes at the two of them, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, kids, that was very irresponsible of you --”

“Yeah yeah,” Max interrupted, rolling his eyes. “How about you just do your goddamn job and figure out where Nikki’s parents are?”

Oh. Of course, that made sense. “R-right. Thanks, Max!”

“Fucking idiot.”

He had all the campers’ parents saved in his contacts for easy access, just in case. So he didn’t have to leave their side as he looked up Mariana Zuckerman’s number and listened to the line ring.

And ring.

And ring.

Finally there was a tiny click. “You’ve reached 555-0175. Dr. Zuckerman isn’t available right now, so please leave a message at the --”

He snapped the phone shut, shaking his head. “No worries,” he chirped to the kids; Nikki was watching a line of ants travel through the grass, but Max’s eyes were trained on him, tiny pinpricks of searing turquoise. “We’ll just try Mr. Sherwood then . . .”

Nikki’s dad didn’t pick up, either.

That was . . . well, of course it wasn’t troubling, David wouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly! But he would have to give her parents a friendly reminder that it was important to have their phones on them at all times. 

Then again, maybe they were driving. That made sense.

“Why didn’t they pick up?” Max demanded, startling David out of his thoughts and nearly making him drop the phone.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re on their way!”

He just stared for a few long moments. Then turned with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I’m gonna go find Gwen.”

“Max, don’t --” But it was too late; faster than he’d ever seen the boy move, Max was trotting across the small grassy clearing that served as Camp Campbell’s pick-up spot, over to where Gwen had her nose buried in a magazine about . . . something or other, he didn’t really understand most of what she read.

Maybe Max had the right idea, though. Gwen would know what to do, even if she was a bit of a worrywart. He straightened, feeling better already as he tried dialing Nikki’s mother again. There was no point in panicking, which meant he’d just ignore the niggling worming sickness in his stomach until it went away.

That usually worked.

“You’ve reached 555-0175. Dr. Zucker --”

“David.” He glanced up from his fifth failed attempt to get ahold of either of Nikki’s parents to see Gwen, her phone clutched in white knuckles. Max hovered at her elbow, glancing between them and where Nikki had fallen asleep in the grass. Gwen held her phone out to him, her hand shaking slightly. “Look at this.”

The screen was a news site. Spectrum News: Capital Region -- oh, she’d looked up Nikki’s hometown paper! That was clever of her. He opened his mouth to congratulate her when his eyes landed on a picture of a woman with hair the color of creamy coffee, the only resemblance to her daughter in their large pink eyes.

Then the headline: “Rensselaer Woman Dies in Auto Crash on I-87 N.”

Then the date: August 19th, 2016.

Then the first sentence: “Dr. Marianna Zuckerman, 35, passed away at 8:15 p.m. on Friday evening in an accident . . .”

“Oh no. Gwen . . .” His vision blurring, he looked over at Nikki, who’d started pawing at the air and growling in her sleep. “Poor Nikki.”

“It’s, um . . .” She cleared her throat, her voice roughening the way it only did when she was trying not to cry, and scrolled down the story a bit. “It’s . . . her dad, too.”

“How?” Shaking his head to dismiss the dumb question, he turned to the story. Dr. Zuckerman had been on her way to Ellis Hospital to visit Norman Sherwood, who’d been admitted that afternoon for a heart attack. “They are survived by their daughter, Nicole Ellen Sherwood . . .” “What do we do, Gwen?”

“I . . . fuck.” She pressed a fist to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. “Okay, okay,” she muttered. “First we gotta call the hospital, make sure this shit’s real. Then, uh . . . the police?”

David nodded, feeling his heart rate slow as Gwen traced out a plan. “That’s a good idea. I’ll call Sal. Would you . . .” He trailed off as she nodded, taking her phone back and tapping at it rapidly. “Thanks.”

“You’ve gotta tell her.” The voice startled them both, and they both looked down at Max. He was glaring up at them, his hands clenched into fists and his lips trembling just slightly. “You can’t just sit here and make plans and not tell her, like this isn’t about her, like . . . like . . .”

“It’s okay, Max,” Gwen said, putting a hand nervously on his shoulder; he jerked away, turning his murderous gaze to the ground instead and scrubbing at his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. “We’re going to get all of this sorted out, and then we’ll talk to her. But we want to make sure we have all the facts first.” Her voice was soothing, a tone he’d never heard her take with Max before. “How about we just let her sleep for right now, okay?”

He just growled and stalked away, over to where Nikki had rolled onto her side. For a second David thought he was going to wake her, but to his surprise Max just plopped onto the grass next to her, shoving his hands in his hoodie and watching her run in her sleep.

“He’s a good kid,” Gwen finally murmured, pulling them both to the tasks at hand. “Guess you were right, David.”

Despite himself, he managed a weak smile. It wasn’t often his coworker had something nice to say about the campers, after all -- or about him, for that matter. “I’m glad he’s here, so she’s not alone when . . .” He cut off, turning his attention to the number for the local police (he had them saved on his speedial).

Now wasn’t the time to be sad for Nikki.

Now, they had to take care of her.

“Dead?” Nikki cocked her head to the side, her nose wrinkling. “Like they’re not coming to pick me up?”

David glanced nervously at Gwen. Nikki was only nine years old, of course, but he’d expected her to understand the whole concept of death a bit more than this. “I’m . . . afraid not.”

“Oh.” She looked down at her shoes thoughtfully. Then her head snapped up, her eyes widening and a grin spreading across her face. “Does this mean I get to be raised by wolves?!”

“Um . . .” Before he could come up with an answer she’d rushed off toward the trees, howling like she could just summon a wolf pack that very instant. (Which . . . maybe she could. He’d seen her do more impossible things.)

“It’s shock,” Gwen explained quietly, as they watched her drop to her hands and knees and start sniffing at the ground. “I think she’s processing it the best she can.”

It didn’t look like she was processing at all, but David could hardly blame her. “Now what?”

“Now I make another thirty billion phone calls.”

“David!” He turned to see Max dragging his parents over to them, nearly tripping over himself in his hurry. “Where’s Nikki? Mom and Dad are here to take her home.”

Rey Sahni sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a move that was uncannily similar to his son. “Max, it’s not that we don’t want to help your friend, but it’s not that simple. She’ll need --”

“She needs fucking parents, Dad!” he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. “She can stay in Kayla’s room.”

Max’s mother knelt down so she was at eye level, running a hand through his hair tenderly. “Sweetie, of course we’ll have Nikki visit as soon as things are sorted out, but first --”

“We can afford it! It’s not like you guys didn’t want another kid, anyway.” He glanced over at Nikki, who’d climbed into a tree and was stalking a chipmunk. “She’s weird, but she’ll be way less of a pain in the ass than Kayla or me.”

His father let out a long, weary sigh. “It’s not like picking up a stray dog, Max.”

“It’s exactly like picking up a stray dog! She even sniffs butts sometimes!”

“She needs to live with her family.” Max’s mother looked up at David. “Have you heard from her guardian?”

Gwen sighed, returning to his side in time to hear this question. “I’ve been talking to . . . everyone, it feels like,” she said with a sigh. “She doesn’t have any family. Sal says she’ll probably have to go into foster care or something.”

“Then we can foster her!” Max turned to his parents again, clenching his hands into fists. His eyes were just the tiniest bit shiny, and David realized with shock that this was the first time he’d ever seen Max close to crying. “Please. She’s one of my best friends.”

His mother’s hands were over her mouth, and his father turned to David with a helpless shrug. “We can’t . . .”

“I understand, Mr. Sahni.” David bent down until his eyes were at level with Max’s. “Listen, we’re gonna make sure Nikki’s fine, okay, Max?”

He just pulled away, turning his back on all of them with a quiet “fuck you” and stomping over to Nikki.

David straightened with a sigh. “He’ll . . .” But there was no way to end that sentence, so he didn’t bother trying. “They’ve gotten close.”

He stumbled through the necessary pleasantries, not fully aware of what he was saying and more than happy to let Gwen take over being the adult for a few minutes. He couldn’t stop watching the kids: Max as he paced back and forth in front of Nikki, raging at something they couldn’t hear. Nikki, who was laughing and tossing pinecones in the hood of Max’s sweatshirt every time he stalked past her.

Until her smile faltered.

Her hand fell to her chest, curling in the light yellow fabric of her shirt. Her eyes landed on Max’s parents, huddled by the car and whispering anxiously with their eyes following Max’s every movement with concern and exasperation and undeniable love.

When Max finally stuttered to a stop and pulled her into a brusque, almost-violent hug, it was the least-energetic David had ever seen Nikki. When Max pulled away, looking embarrassed and furious at nothing in particular, her smile was small and wobbly as she waved away his muttered . . . somethings. Whatever it was, it was between the two of them.

When the Sahni’s car disappeared down the mountain, she drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees and staring at nothing.

“Adopting her would take a lot of work, you know.”

David jumped at Gwen’s voice, chuckling nervously. “What’re you talking about?”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You’re not hard to read, Greenwood,” she said. “You have puppy-dog eyes.”

He swallowed, his throat tickling and tight. “I just want to help.”

“Do you even know all the legal bullshit you’d have to go through?” When he didn’t reply, she sighed and pulled out her phone again.

“What are you --” he began, but Gwen cut him off with a raised finger.

“Hey, Dree. Yeah, I haven’t left yet. Listen, I’m gonna be staying up here for a couple weeks. There’s kinda been a . . . emergency? I can explain later. Like, maybe a month. I know, I know, they’ll kill me. That’s why I want you to tell them, sis.” She shook her head with a quiet laugh. “No, I’ve got nothing to get fired from. If they wanna send money up . . . Yeah, I figured.” She gave him a small, hesitant smile. “No, it’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it. Thanks, love you.” She hung up, pocketing her phone without meeting his eyes. “Okay, this is fine. We’ll get it sorted out.”

“I . . . what just happened?”

She punched his shoulder, harder than was strictly necessary. “Come on, I’m not gonna let you fuck this up just because you suck at paperwork.”

“Thank you, Gwen.”

She shrugged, glancing back toward where the Campmobile was waiting. “Don’t thank me. I’ll be the one crashing on your couch. Anyway, Sal wants us to be at the station to . . . god, I don’t even remember, I’ve talked to too many fucking people today, it’s all running together.” She rubbed her forehead with the pads of her fingers and started toward the car, tossing over her shoulder, “Go get your wild child, daddy.”

“Please never call me that again.”

Gwen turned, flashing him a quick grin. “Nature daddy?”

“Absolutely not!” But his heart was just the tiniest bit lighter as he crossed over to where Nikki was sitting, crouching down in front of her.

“I don’t wanna be raised by wolves,” she whispered into her knees. Her eyes were huge and wet and dark, and it was against every rule in the Employee Handbook but David wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug, because there were things he wasn’t strong enough to resist and this was one of them. She clung to his shirt with hands that felt like claws, her tears burning through his shirt and making his own eyes sting.

“It’s okay,” he kept murmuring, rubbing her back because he didn’t know what else to do. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d keep that promise, but damned if he wasn’t gonna die trying.

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Max groaned, laying back in the grass and frowning up at the sky. “All the people you could’ve gotten stuck with and you picked David?”

Nikki laughed, picking at a dandelion and shredding the stem, smearing the milky-sticky fluid across her fingers. “He’s not that bad,” she said. “He takes me on hikes a lot. And he said we might be able to get a dog this year!”

“You wanted to be raised by wolves and got yourself adopted by a fucking puppy. Christ, Nikki.” He rolled onto his stomach so he could better glare at her, brushing his floppy dark hair out of his face. “It was bad enough having to see him every summer, now I have to deal with him whenever I wanna visit you, too?”

“Good thing I’m awesome enough to be worth it, huh, Max?” She laughed as he threw a handful of grass at her, shaking the dirt out of her hair and flopping onto her back. “Thanks for coming all the way up here.”

“Thank Neil, he’s the one whose parents drove us.” He sat up slightly, peering back toward a small, ivy-covered apartment building. “The fuck did he go, anyway?”

Nikki frowned. “I dunno. Maybe David kidnapped him and is trying to teach him knitting again.” She leapt to her feet, bouncing up on the balls of her toes and then rocking back onto her heels. “Let’s rescue him!”

Max rolled his eyes, but climbed to his feet anyway. “Sounds like an adventure,” he said sarcastically, smirking as she let out a warrior whoop and broke into a sprint.

David’s apartment was tiny, but filled to burst with . . . well, Max would call it “David bullshit.” Lots of embroidery and knitting, lots of framed motivational posters, lots of cute kitschy things that belonged in the home of a grandmother. But there were touches of Nikki, too, in the squirrel skull on the mantel, the Xbox under the television, the pictures on the wall: her half-buried under a fish as tall as she was, her next to a fire that she looked way too proud of not to have lit herself, sitting on David’s shoulders in a tree (that looked fucking safe).

Max hated to admit it, but . . . it made sense. Terrible, obnoxious sense, but sense nonetheless.

Neil was sitting at the kitchen table, watching Gwen and David argue over something that was bubbling on the stove. Nikki threw herself into the chair next to him. “What gives, Neil? Where’d you go?”

“Let’s see, heat stroke and bugs or watching idiots try to figure out how to make soup,” he replied, dryly, resting his cheek in one hand. “Guess which I thought sounded more fun.”

Gwen turned around just long enough to flip him off, earning a scandalized cry from David.

“The fuck is she even doing here, anyway?” Max asked. He was talking to Nikki, but he spoke loud enough for the adults to hear. “Exhausted all the nonexistent job opportunities in America and had to leave the country?”

“Suck a dick, Max.” (“Gwen!”)

Nikki shrugged. “She moved in to help David figure out the adoption stuff, and then just kinda . . . stayed.”

“David’s an idiot. He needed extra help.” She turned to roll her eyes at Max. “These two almost kill themselves twice a week.”

David pouted. “I think we’re doing just fine!”

“You tried to raise wolverines. In the apartment.”

“It could’ve worked!” When she just sighed and shook her head, his smile softened. “Well, we certainly appreciate it, Gwen.”

“Yeah! She made him let us buy video games!” Nikki leaned in, grinning like she was about to impart the location of a secret treasure. “Violent video games!”

“I’m still not very happy about that, by the way.”

“For fuck’s sake, it was one scene! It’s not like the rest of the game was like that!”

“Yes it was!”

“You’re not helping, Nikki.”

Max snorted, sitting back and watching them argue.

He had to admit, things could’ve ended up worse.

[retschina]

Sleep

Arthur Shelby/OC

Arthur finds some much needed sleep in the arms of a mute whore. A little bit of romance happens. One-shot, pre-series.

June 1916, behind the front-line

 „Gemma? I need you in your tent. There’s a punter for you.” The madam said and Gemma looked up from the dress she mended.

Normally, there were no men asking for her, but after a big battle the soldiers were greedy for a woman’s company. These were the days she actually worked as a whore, serving three or four men who were so greedy that they couldn’t wait until Rose or Mary or Janie were free for them. The rest of the time she mended their clothes, did the laundry and helped at the kitchen tent. She was the general dogsbody in this travelling brothel with about 35 whores, the madam and a cook.

Gemma nodded, stood up and followed the madam outside.

“Arthur, dear,” the madam said with so much false friendliness in her voice that Gemma shuddered, “this is Gemma. She’s mute, but she’ll do whatever you want.”

The soldier nodded, agreeing in the deal he made and handed the madam the money. Payment in advance. Gemma knew it was less than the madam requested for the same time with all the others, but she was damaged goods: She couldn’t talk. And the soldiers loved talking, being comforted, being praised for their big cocks, being cheered while fucking themselves into oblivion. Sex with Gemma was something that happened in complete silence and there were not many soldiers who liked that. She gave the soldier, a man of medium size, thin, with a haggard face, a smile and gestured to the tent at the end of the row. He nodded and followed her in, waited until she closed the entrance.

“I’m Arthur,” he then said. “Nice to meet you. So, uhm, do you understand me?”

Gemma nodded, folded her hands over her chest and suggested a bow. Then she opened her dress (time is money, she heard the mistress say in her head) and watched him watching her unpretentious strip, seeing his tongue darting out under his mustache, licking over his lips. Once naked she came closer, opening his shirt, his pants, placing a kiss on his neck in the process.

“No,” he said and shook his head, gripping her wrist before she could feel for his cock. “Lay down. Please.”

She watched his face closely, the hard lines around his mouth, the hints of laugh lines around his eyes. He smelled good, his clothes were clean, a sign that he didn’t came right from the front-line, that he’d prepared himself before coming here. He looked exhausted, his age somehow indeterminable, but he surely was younger than he looked. The war made them all old.

Gemma nodded and lay down, giving him an inviting smile. He got rid of shirt, shoes, trousers and socks and joined her on the camp bed, that, like every camp bed was way too small for two persons, but in a whore’s bed you only need space for one, as the second person is always on top of the other. Enough space to lie on your back, to kneel or to ride. Foreplay was mostly done standing, in front of the bed.

Arthur squeezed his body beside hers, taking her in his arms, placing her head on his chest, covering their bodies with the thin blanket. Gemma heard his heart beating, slow and steady, no hint of arousal. They laid skin on skin, not a piece of paper could fit between them. It felt strange, unusual, but the customer is always right.

“I ... I suffer from nightmares,” Arthur said lowly and cleared his throat. “I can barely sleep.”

Gemma nodded at his chest and tried to get in his underpants. This was what he’d paid for, right? But once again he grabbed her wrist: “No. I don’t wanna fuck you. I’m here to ... to rest. Maybe I’m able to sleep when ... when I have a woman near me, just like back at home, when there was peace.”

Gemma bit on her lip and nodded once more. This was something new for sure. A soldier who paid a small fortune to get some sleep? He must be really, really desperate.

She pressed her body even closer to his, and her eyes shut as she thought about the time before the war, when she hadn’t been a whore, when she laid like this in the hayloft with Michael – may god rest his soul –, dreaming of marrying him, glad she’d met a man who doesn’t care about her being mute.

Arthur’s breathing was even and steady, he didn’t seem to take notice of Lina’s overacted screams of lust and the grunting of the soldier she served in the tent next to them.

“That feels so good,” Arthur whispered and shortly after he snored a little bit.

Gemma smiled, breathing his scent, thought of Michael’s embrace and fell asleep only a few minutes after Arthur.

Two hours later the madam woke them, because the time was up. Arthur thanked her politely, dressed and disappeared in the early evening. Gemma was distributed right after to another soldier, who fucked her relentlessly from behind while she thought of the best nap she had in years.

 From this day on, Arthur was her one and only regular. He came once a week, paying a little fortune for two hours of peaceful sleep. The other whores made fun of her when they took notice of this very special costumer, but they stopped when Janie said that Gemma was the most successful whore she’d ever met, earning money while simply napping.

Gemma herself would’ve napped with Arthur for free, but that was of course nothing the madam allowed. He didn’t talk much, he watched her strip, got rid of his clothes and fell asleep after a few minutes of cuddling.

After three months he missed his weekly visit and Gemma was soon in deep sorrow. In the next two weeks he didn’t visit too and so she went to the board where the fallen and wounded were announced. She didn’t know his last name, and felt a sting in her chest every time she found an “Arthur” on the lists. Every evening she thought of him, this taciturn, handsome, gentle man, thought of his embrace and how good and safe it felt to sleep in his arms. She prayed for him every day and was unbelievably relieved to see him another week down the road at the latrines. She smiled at him and he came over, hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“Hello, Gemma,” he greeted and she bowed her head. “I ... I was at home. Holidays, two weeks. The notification was a surprise, I would’ve told you if I had known it.”

She nodded and gave him a sigh of relief, her hands placed over her heart.

“Did you miss me?” He sounded confused and insecure, a grown-up man who couldn’t believe that a whore could miss his miserable visits.

She nodded enthusiastically and Arthur squinted, just as he thought about the possibility of getting played for a sucker. But then his facial expression became soft again and he nodded in the direction of the brothel tents: “I’d ... I’d love to visit you, but ... I gave most of my money to my family, so ... I’m kinda broke. I need to wait for the next pay packet before I’m able to visit you again.” He shrugged and gave her a half smile. “But I slept a lot at home, so ... it’s alright.”

Gemma shook her head and fumbled something out of the pocket of her skirt, pulled him in a tight embrace and kissed him on the cheek, while placing a little bit of money in his pocket.

“What the fuck?” Arthur whispered, pulling the coins she gave him out and counted them.  

Gemma pointed with her finger to the brothel.

“You want me to come? And pay for you with your own money?” Arthur asked and pulled her a bit on the side, away from prying ears.

She nodded and gave him a big smile.

“You like my visits?”

Once more a nod and he sighed: “Alright. I ... I feared you’d think I’m an idiot or something.”

Gemma shook her head, blew him a kiss and waved goodbye. She really looked forward to a nap in his arms. It was the best thing that happened to her since August 4th, 1914.

Their silent agreement started in December and contained a weekly meeting at the latrines where she gave him back her part of the money he’d paid for her, so that he’d only have to pay the commission for madam. It still felt wrong to take money for a nap, and she didn’t care about the money she lost to him. Madam was pleased and she was happy to have the best regular a whore could wish for.

It was the first week of February 1917 when she woke up from her nap because she felt his hands wandering over her body. He cupped her breast, petting with his thumb over her nipple. His breath was hot at her ear, he moaned lowly.

“Wanna fuck you, Gemma. Turn around.” He whispered and she did as he wished, pressing her back against his chest.

He lifted her leg, placing it over his own thigh, making room for his fingers. She turned her head to look at him, noticed the burning desire in his eyes. She stuck her middle finger in her mouth and sucked at it, swirling with the tongue over the finger tip and gave him a questioning look.

“No,” he whispered. “Want your pussy.”

She sighed and closed her eyes a few seconds after he started to pet over her slit, from her clitoris to her entrance, back and forth, back and forth. He worked her fast and determined, he was an experienced man, she could tell from the way he touched her. He knew how to make a woman hot and bothered and dripping wet. She was panting when he let go of her, turned around and grabbed one of the condoms on the bedside table. Gemma didn’t move, she listened to his low cursing, the sound of the condom wrapping and the rustling of the sheets when he came closer again, repositioning her to fuck her comfortably. Maybe it was the fact that he spooned her that it felt so intimate, so close. Gemma blinked the tears away, thankful that he was behind her, that he didn’t look at her.

Without any other word he entered her slowly, one arm around her upper body, his hand cupped her breast, the other hand over her vulva, slowly rubbing circles around her nub.

“Time’s up in 10 minutes, Gem!” Madam called from outside the tent, but Arthur wasn’t in any hurry.

He kept his thrusts slowly and steady, and Gemma turned her upper body as far as the cod would allow, just for a look at him. Their gazes locked and Arthur sped up a little, eliciting a moan from her.

“Like it?” He whispered and she nodded.

Her hand slid downwards, over his, and she guided him, showing him what she needed to find release. He was fast on the uptake and very soon she panted heavily, her pussy quivered and his thrusts got harder, more forceful, faster. Her little scream was nothing compared to Lina’s big “Oh-honey-you-fuck-me-so-good-yes-yes-yes-I’m-coming”-show, but it was a real one. Arthur had made her cum and she couldn’t remember one single soldier who had managed this before. Six or seven hard and fast thrusts later he grunted, a rumble deep out of his chest, and he stilled, pressing himself balls-deep in her. His eyes closed and he remained in her for another minute, waiting for his breathing going back to normal. Then he slid out, removing the condom without breaking eye contact to her and threw it on the floor. He closed the fly of his underpants and turned her around.

“Kiss?” He asked and she nodded.

She wanted to be kissed by him so badly and smiled, as he lowered his head, as his lips met hers.

“Time’s up, Gemma!” Madam’s voice came from outside, but Arthur didn’t stop kissing her for another 30 seconds.

“We’ve got marching orders. We’re going to Belgium on Saturday. I’m ... I’m gonna miss you, Gemma. I’m sorry I have to go. Thank you, for everything.” He whispered and left the cod, dressing in record speed.

He was fully clothed in the moment Madam opened the entrance, indicating that the guest had to leave right now or to pay for another hour.

“Gemma, Mr. Lamarr needs you in the kitchen tent,” she said and left it instantly again, after Gemma nodded and sat up.

Arthur fumbled in his jacket and placed two coins on the bedside table: “Is ... is this enough? For the fuck?”

Gemma looked back and forth between the money and his face, blinked the tears away and nodded, a forced smile on her lips.

“Bye, Gemma,” he said lowly and left the tent.

She sat there for another minute, crying silently, stupid tears, bathing in miserable self-pity.

‘You’re a whore, Gemma. What did you expect?’ She thought and got up to get dressed.

She flinched as she felt warm liquid running down on her inner thighs, seconds after standing up. Gemma held her breath and bit on her lip, looking to the condom lying on the floor to her feet. She could see the tear in the material with the naked eye.

  Birmingham, November 1920

 The madam had sent her home, to Lancashire, once the pregnancy was visibly. But she didn’t make it back, she got stuck in Birmingham, and gave birth to a little boy, Angus, on October 15, 1917. She found work at a factory and fought hard every day to make everything best for him. Right now, in November 1920, with Angus 3 years old, she needed a second job. She had to buy some shoes for him and she was in desperate need of a coat for him. He’d grown so fast in the last months.

Gemma tried to keep contact to many other mothers and the neighbours, so Angus could learn how to speak from the people surrounding him. He did very well and for a few weeks now he chattered and sang the whole day. He was a child of a very sunny disposition, sometimes hard to believe, considering the shy and reluctant temper of his mother and the earnestness and sadness of his father. Every time Gemma looked at her son she was able to see Arthur in him. He looked so similar to his father that it sometimes nearly broke her heart.

She strolled around the streets with Angus at her hand, searching for a “Help needed” sign somewhere. After an hour she reached the imaginary border she’d set for herself: Every job behind Watery Lane was too far away to be paying. So, Watery Lane was the last street to look for a job in this direction. Tomorrow she’d go for a walk southwards from her home. And then she saw it: “Help needed.”

She smiled, pointing to the door, gesturing Angus that they would go in there. She had no idea what kind of help they needed or what kind of business it was, but asking never hurt. Inside the office she found a woman all alone at a desk and she gave her a smile, fumbling for the piece of paper in her pocket. She handed it over the table, while Angus sang “Three blind mice”, which made her smile every time he sang it.

The woman watched him closely, squinted, shook her head and looked to the piece of paper Gemma gave her.

“My name is Gemma Barker. I’m mute, but I’m able to work very hard.”

In her back, a door opened and heavy footsteps came nearer.

“Pol?” A male voice asked and the woman at the desk looked up. “Where’s the paperwork Tommy gave you yesterday? Regarding Epsom?”

Gemma froze. She knew this voice. As little as he’d used to talk, she would recognize his voice under thousands. She still dreamt of him, of the peace she’d found in his arms. Slowly, Gemma turned around and looked at him. Arthur. Beyond all doubt. He hadn’t change very much. Her hand searched for hold at the desk and she made a strangled noise that made him look at her. He stopped in the movement, looking at her with disbelief. Then he noticed the still singing Angus and his eyes got wide.

“Who’s that?” He asked, his voice strained.

“Her name is Gemma. She’s applying for the job. And the boy ... if I wouldn’t know better I’d say he’s a fruit of your loins, Arthur,” the woman named Polly answered. “He looks just like you when you were about three years old.”

“Gemma ...,” Arthur whispered. “Oh, bloody hell!”

He came closer, looking back and forth between her and Angus. After a few seconds he hunkered down and held out his hand for Angus. Her – their – little boy shook Arthur’s hand politely and said: “I’m Angus Barker. Nice to meet you.”

“He talks ...,” Arthur said, looking up to Gemma.

She nodded and gave him a smile.

“Who’s that, mom?” Angus asked, looking up to Gemma.

“I’m Arthur,” he introduced himself.

“You two know each other, huh? And little Angus is ...?”

Arthur nodded to Polly and focused on Angus again: “How old are you, son?”

He held three fingers in the air and Gemma noticed the smile on Arthur’s face, watched his laugh lines crinkle for the first time in her presence.

“February 17, right? So he was born in ... what? October?” Arthur said and Gemma nodded. “Do you still work for ...?”

She shook her head and handed him the paper Polly had given her back.

“Gemma Barker,” Arthur mumbled and looked up: “I’m Arthur Shelby. Welcome to the family, Gem and Angus.”

He stood up and opened his arms, pulled Gemma in a tight embrace.

“I need sleep,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking tired.”

Gemma nodded at his chest and smiled. So was she. But from this day on, she would sleep like a stone, she felt it.