#someone brought up a different event happening after my birthday and both of them had a split second panic of ‘oh god we missed it’

[dreamofbecoming]

called my dad to chat today, and his response to my “happy father’s day” was “oh shit we missed your birthday!” which. his dismay was sweet, but my birthday is still a month away.

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - Under the Table

The Tower - Under the Table

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 4585

Warnings:  smut (ten personal bixexual orgy, oral sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, some use of powers, blindfolds)

Synopsis:  It’s Elly’s birthday, and after dinner the group have their own special kind of party game, one where they find out how well they know each other, and who can keep a good poker face.

Author’s Note:  Long time no update! I’ve been writing really slow at the moment.  But I am still doing these if you have requests.  This one was Requested by bubsanddoll21 on Wattpad. You can send in your requests too.

Takes place between The Tower and The Holiday Special

Under the Table

In the early days of my relationship with the Avengers, it was a rare event that all of us had a meal together at a table.  Ten people at a table felt more like a dinner party than a date.  Sitting around on the couches just felt more familiar and comfortable. So when we did sit down to eat, it was a special occasion.

This one was my birthday.

The others had wanted to do something special, so they decorated the conference room and Bucky, Sam, and Wanda had cooked a large meal.  It was nice and at the point where most of us had finished eating, Tony leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.  “We should have brought some games up with us,” he said.  “I could go a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity right now.”

“I could go down and get something,” Steve offered.

“You’re still eating, Steve,” Wanda said.  “Someone else can go.”

“Or!” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows.  “Or… we could play a different kind of game.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not talking about charades?” Sam asked.

“Because you know me too well, Sammy,” Clint said.  “I saw this thing…”

“What have I told you about watching that stuff on the company wifi?” Tony scolded.

Clint smirked at him.  “To invite you along when I do,” he teased and stuck his tongue out at Tony.  “Anyway, as I was saying; I saw this thing.  Someone gets under the table and starts going down on someone.  And if the person getting blown or eating out gives it away that it’s happening to them, they have to go under the table.  And if someone guesses the wrong person, it’s them.  Like a Blow Job Roulette.”

“Okay, that sounds fun,” I said.  “Can we?” 

There was a murmur around the table, and one by one everyone agreed it sounded like it could be fun.

“Birthday girl goes first,” Sam said.

“Shouldn’t I be the one that gets eaten out first?” I countered. 

“But then we’d all know it was you, and you’d just end up under the table,” Sam argued.  “You might as well start down there.”

I laughed.  The logic was flawed, but I figured it was as good a place as any.  “Alright, pants off everyone,” I said, slipping off my chair onto my knees under the table.  Everyone shuffled around, some of them just opening their pants and pulling their cocks out, while others stood and pushed their pants all the way down.  Wanda and Natasha were both wearing skirts, so they just took off their panties and hoisted up their skirts.  It was quite a sight under the table.  Nine people all around me, pants down, and legs spread.  Some of the men were already half-hard.  I looked around, picking my target.

Of all the members of the group, Wanda was calling to me the most.  She was wearing thigh-high black socks, heeled boots, and a black skirt that was bunched up.  Her legs were spread and the little thatch of pubic hair glistened invitingly.

I crawled over to her, putting my hands on her thighs.  She tensed and I ducked my head forward, licking up her slit.  I wondered what she looked like right now.  How she was hiding what was happening.  If she was hiding it.  From where I was, it seemed so obvious.  Her muscles had clenched and she’d tilted her hips forward.  I could even feel a slight shake in her thighs.  I couldn’t imagine it not being totally obvious from above the table, but if she was, no one had said anything yet.

I pushed my tongue inside her and flicked it up over her clit, painting little shapes over it.  She squirmed and her cunt flooded, and as the tart, musky flavor of her slick filled my mouth, Bucky, Tony, and Clint all called out at once. “Wanda!”

“No fair!” Wanda whined as I pulled away.

“That’s the game, Wanda,” Sam said.  “Now under the table.”

I crawled out and wriggled out of my pants as Wanda climbed in under the table.  I sat down and nothing seemed to happen for a while.  I could hear Wanda moving under the table for a moment, and then after that, it was just the sounds of people picking at the last of the food and random conversation in the group.

All of a sudden Clint yelped and practically rocketed up off his chair. “Wanda!” he scolded.  “No powers!”

She got up giggling as everyone burst out laughing.  “Did someone get invaded by some pink light?” Tony teased.

“That’s one way to put it,” Clint said as he climbed under the table.

It took a really long time before the next person became clear.  I was studying everyone very closely, and the only thing that had me wondering was the slightly bored looks in the eyes of Natasha and Tony.  Which made me think it was more likely Tony as he usually dominated the conversation.  It wasn’t until his brow furrowed and he moved his hand under the table that I knew for sure it was him.

“Tony!” I yelled, pointing at him.  “It’s you!”

“Ah, shit,” Tony said, reaching under the table with both hands and began to rut his hips.  “Wait, Clint, I’m nearly done.”

“Hey now,” Steve said.  “You can wait like the rest of us.”

Clint made a choked sound and stumbled out from under the table, his eyes watering, and he wiped his mouth.  “Jesus,” he cursed.  “Tony was a terrible choice.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony said, as he smoothed down his shirt.  “The amount of calls I’ve taken while I’ve been balls deep in someone.”

“Alright, alright, get under the table smart ass,” Steve said.

Tony laughed as he climbed under, and I decided on a completely different strategy.  I glanced around the table, trying to see if anyone had given it away, but at the same time, I tensed my hands and took in a shaky breath.

“Elly!” Clint, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all said at once.

“No!” I shouted and Bruce groaned. “It’s Bruce!”

“You little…!” Natasha scolded.  “That was evil!”

Tony had broken down into laughter under the table and he crawled his way out.  “That was awesome,” he said.  “Now what?  Do all of you have to get under the table?”

“Might I suggest that we alter the game?” Thor asked.  “Perhaps, rather than all of us trying to work out who is being pleasured, Lady Elise should be blindfolded and have to work out which of her lovers is pleasuring her.”

“I think that sounds like a fantastic idea,” Natasha said.  “If she can guess, then they can make her come.  If not, she just gets edged.”

“What do you think of that, Elise?” Steve asked.

I nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, please. It is my birthday after all.”

“We might need lube and something to blindfold El with,” Sam said.  “I mean - if we’re going to have real fun that is.”

Wanda lifted her loop scarf off over her head, and Tony, Clint, Natasha, and Thor all fished in their pockets and pulled out lube.  What was funny was none of them had the same kind of lube.  Tony had the warming gel kind, Clint’s was espresso flavored, Natasha’s doubled as a massage gel, and Thor’s was an oil he’d brought from Asgard and came in a delicate-looking, hand-blown glass bottle.

Steve and Wanda approached me as the others started clearing the table.  “Let’s get you ready, Elise,” Steve said.

Steve lifted my shirt off over my head and Wanda unfastened my bra.  I let the fabric slip down my arms and Steve tossed both it and my bra aside.  Wanda kissed me softly and then wrapped the scarf around the top of my head, obscuring my vision.  When it was in place properly, and I had assured them I couldn’t see anything, Steve lifted me and put me on the table.

I lay back and lifted my legs, spreading them and resting my feet at the edge of the table.  They made me wait a moment, and while I waited, they were clearly not keeping their hands to themselves.  There were moans and the soft wet sounds of kissing around me, which only made that wait worse.

My thighs were trembling by the time someone touched me.  Right away I knew it was one of the guys and not Natasha or Wanda, and given the fact that he touched me with both hands, and they were both flesh, I knew it wasn’t Bucky either.

There was no preamble. Whoever it was just lunged in and began to lap up the length of the slit.  They didn’t even try spreading me with their fingers, rather their tongue pushed between my folds and just got to work.  I could feel the scratch of their beard.  Yet, even without that, they were very skilled with their tongue.  It started wide, sweeping up from my entrance to my clit, and then began to focus on the little but, sending little jolts through me.  I didn’t even need the extra sensation of their long hair tickling the insides of my thighs, I knew it was Thor.  The size of his hands, the beard, and the technique all screamed the god of thunder to me.

“Mmm… Thor,” I moaned, lifting my hips to meet his mouth.

A deep booming chuckle sounded between my legs and Thor sent a jolt of electricity right through my clit making my body jerk up hard.  I nearly came just from that.

“How do you even do that?” Tony laughed. “You are too good at this game.”

“You gotta make me come now,” I said breathlessly, reaching down to tangle my hands into Thor’s hair.

“Don’t worry, lover.  I will,” Thor said.

He was good to his word.  He pulled my clit between his lips and began to flick his tongue over it.  Every now and again, he’d send another spark into it, that made my core muscles clench completely out of my control.  It brought me careening to the edge very quickly and the fourth time he did it, the dam burst and I came, arching up hard off the table as my orgasm crashed through me.

“Fucking hell!” I cried out.

“Damn, Thor,” Sam said.  “That had to be some kind of record.”

“I am a god, Samuel,” Thor bragged.

There was only a short wait for the next person to move up.  It was another one of the men and once again, clearly not Bucky.  This person was much more tentative than Thor, spreading my folds with his fingers, and slowly swirling his tongue over them.   He was tender and methodical, and it sent a warm buzz through me, oozing out like honey on tiles.  There was no beard, and the very faint tickle of the hair on his head on my thighs.

“Bruce,” I moaned, arching my back and lifting one leg so it was draped over his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Tony cursed.  “You’re gonna be having so many orgasms tonight.”

“I know you all too well,” I moaned.  “Gonna have to mess up on purpose so I don’t die.”

“Let’s see how you go,” Bruce said and eased two fingers inside me.

Bruce was slower and more methodical about things than Thor, at least initially.  He pushed his fingers in deep, touching my g-spot and then stroking over it.  As he did, he pulled my clit between his lips and flicked his tongue over it.  The louder I moaned the rougher he got, so it wasn’t long before he’d gone from careful and slow, to rough and fast.  His fingers hammered into my g-spot, over and over, sending sharp jolts right through me, making it so I couldn’t think straight.  Beside me, someone had started having sex, and from the sounds of it, it’d be a while before Clint was down between my legs.

My orgasm peaked and Bruce pushed his fingers against my g-spot and twisted his wrist, and I came, my back arching off the table as I cried out, shuddering with it.

Bruce hummed and pulled away. “Mmm… I love seeing you come,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss me.

I sucked my slick from his lips and he pulled away, running his hand down my stomach and patting my pussy before pulling away.  I didn’t have to wait very long before the next person to take their place.  Right away I could tell it was one of the women, which narrowed the choice down to two.  I almost wanted to just take a shot in the dark and really freak them out.  I didn’t even need to though, the slow tease of her fingers up my thighs, and the way she ran her nails over my hips as she leaned in, I knew right away it was Natasha.  Not because she always touched me like that, but just that it was uniquely her.

“Natasha!” I said quickly.

She cursed in Russian and Tony burst out laughing, while at least two other people applauded me.  I would have taken a bow if I wasn’t flat on my back.  “That’s my girl,” Natasha praised and got to work.

Her nimble fingers pushed inside me and immediately pushed against my g-spot. I gasped and bucked up hard against her, but she just pushed my hips back down and continued doing it.  She countered the intense pressure of her fingers against that sweet spot inside me with her tongue on my clit.  It was intense.  I couldn’t focus.  Lights popped behind my eyes and each time I tried to say something all that came out was an animalistic cry.

When I came, I gushed, spraying Natasha with my juices as I arched hard on the table.  It was so intense, it knocked every conscious thought out of my head and I just oozed down onto the table, breathing heavily, completely forgetting that there were still six more people to go.

“Well done, Mishka,” Natasha praised.“I hope you have more in you.”

I wasn’t so sure.  In fact, when the next person stepped up, it took me a moment to realize there was even someone there.  Their tongue was lapping up and down my folds before I was truly aware enough to remember I was supposed to be playing a game.

The way they lapped their tongue was almost soothing after the intensity of the last orgasm I had.  There was a scratch of beard on my skin, but my foggy head made it hard to think about which beard it could be.

Finally, it clicked into place.  No metal hand.  That cut out Bucky.  Clint and Steve were both clean-shaven.  Which just left Tony and Sam.  I was sure that Tony would want to torture me after what happened and he wouldn’t be going easy on me at all. “Sam…” I moaned, the sounds completely breathless.

“We should never have doubted you,” Thor said.  “This is truly impressive.”

“Are you sure you’re not peeking?” Clint asked.

“Just know you all,” I argued in that same breathless moan.

Sam pulled back and a moment later there was the press of his cock against my cunt. “Let’s make you come a different way,” Sam said.

He lifted my legs so they were up against his chest and he pushed into me.  As he started to thrust into me, I gripped the edge of the table to hold myself steady. “Oh fuck,” I moaned.  I was so sensitive and overworked, that I knew the next six orgasms would happen really fast.  I was going to be completely over-stimulated by the time we were done.

Sam slid his hands down my thighs and onto my cunt, and he began to rub my clit in tight circles. I mewled, arching my back and clenching tight around his shaft.  “Oh god, Sam.  Please…”  I didn’t even know what I was pleading for.  I just knew I needed something.  More, harder, slow down, be gentle.  Or maybe just to stop.

His thumb kept rubbing in tight circles on my clit and thrusting in fast and deep, and very quickly I was brought spiraling to the edge once more.  He pinched my clit and I went toppling over, crying out and clenching my teeth as all my muscles clenched up at once.

“Good girl,” Sam praised.  “There we go.”

He slipped out of me and I let my legs fall on the table.  “You still okay?” he asked.

I nodded and made an incoherent sound.  He caressed my cheek and ran his thumb over my bottom lips.  “Elise, are you sure?”

I nodded again.  “Yeah.  I can do this.”

He stepped away and the next hand touched me. Just the right hand, and it slid up my legs and when it reached the apex of my thigh, the thumb ran up and down my slit.  Someone might have been just trying to mess with me, but I didn’t think so, and when the person crouched and their long hair teased the inside of my thighs it confirmed it.  “Bucky,” I said.

He laughed. “Damn it.  I was trying not to give it away.”

“That’s what gave it away,” I said.

“Alright, alright, let’s make you come then,” he said, sounding a lot like he was pouting.

He didn’t even bother to try and go down on me.  He just pushed my legs up against my body, lined his cock up to my cunt, and shoved in deep.  I gasped as he bottomed out and I felt the sharp sting of the head of his cock hitting my cervix.  “Bucky,” I whined.

“Sorry, honey,” he said, backing off a bit.  He smoothed his hands down my thighs and began to thrust.

I reached up, grabbing his wrists as he thrust into me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him in as tightly as I could.  “Bucky,” I moaned.  “Kiss me.”

He wrapped his right arm around my waist and lifted me, so I was sitting on the edge of the table and the cool metal of his thumb brushed over my lips.  I parted them, leaning forward as I wrapped my arms around him and pushed my hands into his hair.

He kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth.  I flicked my tongue forward to meet his and they danced together.  Bucky kept thrusting into me and I rolled my hips to meet him.  As worked up as I was, I knew I wouldn’t last, but the way this orgasm built felt so different from the past four.  It wound around me like a warm blanket.  I was engulfed by it, cocooned completely.  It heated me from the inside and yet I trembled in Bucky’s arms.  He held me close, thrusting in deep and kissing me with a passionate intensity that took my breath away.

When my orgasm washed over me, I threw my head back and clenched tight around me.  “Oh god, Bucky,” I moaned.

Bucky’s hips stuttered and he groaned loudly, burying his head in my neck. “Fuck, Elly,” he groaned, suddenly jerking forward and coming inside me.

“Bucky Barnes, you dirty dog,” Clint scolded.  “Leaving a mess in there for us to clean up.”

I swatted lazily in Clint’s direction as Bucky started laughing. “Oh like you’re not looking forward to that.”

He pulled out of me and I lay back with a groan.  It wasn’t long before someone else was between my legs.  They lifted them and spread them wide and then did something that gave them away immediately.  They laughed.

“What’s so funny, Tony?” I asked.

“Ah fuck,” he said. “Didn’t even get a chance to trick you.  I just had plans to go to town on you.”

“Mean,” he said, reaching for him.  “Go on, you gotta give me my prize.”

“Alright, alright,” he said and pushed his cock up against my cunt.  “It’s coming and so will you be.”

I laughed, but it was cut short as he shoved inside of me.  He thrust in so hard it nearly knocked the wind from me.  I cried out and reached above my head.  Someone grabbed my hand and I held onto them as Tony began to thrust into me.

He didn’t go easy on me the way Bucky had.  He grabbed my legs, held me in place, and just railed into me.  “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” I babbled as I was jolted on the table.  My fingers tightened around whoever’s hand I was holding.  It felt like this orgasm was being hammered into me.  Each thrust of Tony’s hips just made it build more and more until I was ready to burst.

It hit me hard, lights popped behind my eyes and I cried out, my hips bucking and my body writhing under him.  “Oh fuck yes, Tony!” I mewled.

Tony kept thrusting, fucking me through my orgasm, and with a shudder he came too, moaning as he did.  “There you go, Legolas,” Tony teased as he held me in place.

He leaned down and kissed me as he pulled out, and stepped away.  A lay on the table breathing heavily, waiting for the next person the move up.

I didn’t have to wait long, and once again, I knew who it was as soon as their hands were on my skin.

“Wanda,” I said.

She giggled.  “I knew there was no point trying to trick you.  But lucky you, now you get your prize.”

She took her hands off me completely and just as I wondered what she was doing, the warm tingle of her powers touched on my feet and began to wind their way up my leg.  It was slow going, and it didn’t settle on my cunt right away, rather, it wrapped its way right around me, making my whole body buzz and tingle.

I whined, squirming on the table.  I was still holding someone’s hand, and I gripped it tighter, trying to tether myself to something real.

“Please, Wanda,” I whined, bucking my hips.

She giggled again, but things started to get more focused.  It swirled around my nipples, tugging on them, and began to buzz against my clit. I moaned, arching my back and the pressure increased.  Every moan I made made her increase the pressure of her powers on me.  My nipples hardened almost painfully and a hot current ran right through me from my clit.  I was dripping on the table as my cunt clenched around nothing.

It started to feel like some kind of torture.  I was so close, and yet she was keeping me hovering there right at the edge.  “Please.  Please, Wanda.  I need … I need…”

“Yes, Elly?” she asked.

“I need to come,” I wailed.

A jolt shot through me, and just like that, I came, arching hard off the table, and screaming as my orgasm rocked through me, making me gush onto the table.  It was the most intense orgasm yet, and for a moment everything went black.

When the world returned, I was panting heavily, completely dazed as I rode out the extreme orgasm high.

“Holy shit, Wanda,” Natasha cursed.  “That was impressive.”

“Two more left, El,” Steve said.  “You sure you’ve got them in you?”

I nodded slowly.  “Think so.”

Someone moved up and skimmed the back of their fingers up the insides of my thighs.  It was a Clint trick, but not out of Steve’s playbook. Whoever it was leaned in, ghosting his lips up the insides of my soaked thighs.  His fingers moved to my cunt, spreading it with his fingers and running his tongue up my slit.  There was no beard, but both Clint and Steve were currently clean-shaven, so that didn’t give it away.  I really had no idea who was touching me.

I lifted my feet, put them on his shoulders, and flexed my toes.  Whoever it was was broad-shouldered and muscular.  That didn’t exactly narrow it down either.  And just because Steve was broader than Clint, I chose him.

“Steve?” I asked.

“You sure about that, darlin’?” Bucky asked. 

“No… but it’s my guess,” I moaned.

Some of the group started clapping.  “Well done, that’s all of you.  How about Clint and Steve make you come together, so you only have to do one more?” Sam suggested.

I nodded emphatically.  “Please.”

Steve moved forward, the thick head of his cock pressing against my cunt.  I raised my hips to meet him, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer to me.  He pulled back just a little and with a snap of his hips, he sunk in deep.

I gasped and arched my back.  As I did, Clint moved up beside me on the table and began to flick his tongue over my clit and play with my breast.  The table was jostled beside us and Clint grunted and let out a moan.

“Who’s fucking Clint?” I moaned.

“That’d be me, honey,” Sam replied.  “You want to see?”

I nodded.  “Please.”

The blindfold was taken off as Steve continued to thrust into me.  I blinked at the light and looked around, Taking everything in.  Steve was between my legs, holding me in place, his brow furrowed as he fucked me.  Clint was half propped on the table, bent over me, licking at my clit and that base of Steve’s cock.  Sam was behind him, one hand braced on Clint’s shoulder and the other on his hip as he thrust into him, jostling him against me.  The others were spaced around the table.  Most just watching.  Thor was the one holding my hand, though Wanda was bouncing in his lap, her eyes glowing pink.

Everyone else was just kissing and holding each other as they watched Clint and Steve bring on my final orgasm.  Seeing them just added to my pleasure, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

I relaxed back, just letting the pleasure wash over me, It encompassed me completely.  But in the end, it wasn’t either Steve or Clint that set my orgasm off, it was Wanda’s orgasm.

She cried out and her powers burst out of her and I was hit by a sudden, intense wave of her pleasure.  I came hard, all my muscles clenching at once making me arch violently off the table.  I cried out and my vision blacked out for a moment.  Wanda’s orgasm must have affected the others too.  Steve groaned and gripped my hips hard shoving into me and coming deep inside me.  Sam’s hips bucked and his head fell back as his hit too, and Clint suddenly arched like a cat and came in thick ropes onto the table.

I fell back breathing heavily as I rode the waves of my orgasm.  Steve hunched over me panting and Clint slithered down and lay there with his head on my stomach.

That’s how we stayed for a while and then Natasha stood.  “Okay.  How about we clean up here and head downstairs?  I think it’s time for a soak in the hot tub.” 

Steve sighed contentedly and slipped out of me.   He pulled up his pants and then picked me up, cradling me against him. “Good birthday?” he asked.

I hummed, snuggling against his chest and closing his eyes as I murmured my reply. “The best.”

~ END ~

[wecomrades]

A Penny For Your Heart

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x pilot!reader

Summary: a journey down your memory lane as you’re trying to figure out how to deal with the love of your life who just happened to step back into the picture after some time apart. 

Word count: 2.9k

Author’s notes: I’ve been writing fanfics for about 18 years now but this is my very first character x reader fic and I hope you like it! I wanted to do something to get out of my comfort zone and I thought TGM was the right fandom to do that, eheh. Couldn’t resist! This story follows the film’s events.

Thanks a lot @what-ever-happened for reading this in advance and bearing with me always, i love you so much! I want to dedicate this story to my lovely friend @nonstoplover as a belated present for your birthday! Ily and I'm so glad TG brought us closer to each other ♥ I hope you enjoy and that it brings a smile on your face!

The Hard Deck is incredibly loud tonight and Heaven knows how much you can’t stand that much noise, especially when you need to think. Thinking - or overthinking, in your case - is best achieved when your mind is fully clear from distractions, which is quite a hard job when you have tipsy Payback and Fanboy singing and dancing and clapping around you.

You have been sitting there for at least an hour, your elbows resting on the counter and your face not so gracefully buried in your hands, the beer in front of you begging to be finished but you can't even bring yourself to stretch your hand to it.

It's been a tiring day on all fronts, both physically and mentally. Preparing for this mission is becoming more and more challenging and draining day after day. Training is always hard, as you all spend the majority of the day in the air and, even if you're part of the crème de la crème of Top Gun pilots, as Hangman kindly reminds everyone everyday since this all started, the fact remains that the stress for this job is real: whenever you look at your friends, no matter the bag of experience you all have, there's always that sparkle of worry hidden in their eyes. 

You trust them as much as you trust your beloved F-18, but you can't help but wonder if there's really a chance of returning home after this.

Your mental fatigue, on the other hand, is called Bradley Bradshaw. 

You roll your eyes so hard you almost see the back of your head, but at the same time you can't seem able to suppress a smirk at the only thought of that name, as you eventually pay attention to your beer.

“Penny for your thoughts?” a voice breaks the turmoil in your head when Penny comes closer from across the counter.

The corner of your mouth quirks up once again, as you glance up to the woman.

“It’s actually so funny,” you start, fiddling with the glass, “I never had someone called Penny asking me just that.”

Penny laughs, shaking her head. “I never had someone reminding me I’m called like a coin, to be honest.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, as a very specific twenty-something year old memory emerges vividly in your head.

“Hey, it’s mine! I found it!” mini you shouted, pouting at the boy in front of you, who was so caught up by the coin in his hands to pay attention to you climbing on his chest to try and take the object back.

“But it’s different from the others I have! I could add it to my collection, can I keep it? Please, y/n?” Bradley mumbled, turning the coin in his hands. “What’s that figure there…? Is it an animal or something?”

“Bra-dleyyyy!” you groaned, gripping on his arm. “Give it back, or I’ll tell Papa.”

“Okay, you menace,” Bradley gave in, returning the coin to you while a look of sadness appeared on his face. You weren't used to seeing him like that, it probably happened only around the time of his father's death anniversary. You didn't like being the reason he looked so miserable, so as you got the coin back, you didn't feel the same happiness you had in finding it.

After all, it was just a coin. Your dad used to give you coins from time to time, but Bradley didn't have a dad who could do that for him.

Bradley gave you a faint smile as he sat on the sidewalk outside your house where you both spent all afternoon building paper aeroplanes and trying to fly them from your yard to the neighbours’ across the street.

“Bradley?” you asked, hesitant.

“Mh?”

Then you sat next to him, fiddling with the hem of your dress. “I’ll give you this coin but you have to promise me something.”

“Really?!” he almost jumped from happiness, making you laugh. 

“Yes, I know I’m only nine, but I’m a good friend,” you said wisely, passing him the coin, which he took with a bright smile. “You have to promise me that you’ll give it back when you’re finally ready to be my boyfriend.”

Bradley raised his eyebrow funnily. “You wanted Leonardo DiCaprio to be your boyfriend just yesterday.”

“Exactly, that was yesterday.”

“But we’re friends! We’re basically siblings, we grew up together!” Bradley seemed so confused, and that was the thing that most amused you.

You sighed, looking heavenward as if you were about to explain the ABC. “That’s the point, silly,  we’re friends and we always play together! We’re perfect for each other, Mama said that.”

Bradley seemed more confused than ever. “Your mom told you we’re perfect together?”

“Yes,” you said through gritted teeth. “She told me Leonardo DiCaprio is too old for me, to choose someone my age and I choose you.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works…” Bradley’s frown was getting funnier by the minute, and it managed to wipe away your annoyance. “You can be such a weirdo sometimes, you know that?”

“Got it all from my Papa, I suppose,” you said proudly, suddenly standing up and starting to dance. “He says funny things sometimes that I don’t understand, like, yesterday I heard him on the phone talking to uncle Ice, and he goes like ‘Merlin told me that Wolfman got his F-somewhat fixed.’ It doesn’t make any sense, Merlin is a sorcerer, my friend Karen from school made me watch The Sword in The Stone! So no way he’s a friend of Papa, I know it’s only a cartoon.”

The laughter that escaped Bradley’s mouth was so free and pure and childish, and even though at first you didn’t understand why he was laughing so hard, you couldn’t help but join him  just a moment after. His laughter was your serenity, for in those moments you were the most alive even if you didn’t really know it at the time.

The crack of the door opening behind you interrupted that joyful moment.

“Y/n, Bradley, time for dinner,” your father appeared on the doorstep, inviting you to go back inside. “Bradley, your mum is coming to pick you up after supper, alright?”

Bradley nodded. “That’s okay, uncle Mav.”

Your father smiled at both of you, his eyes glistening with joy at seeing his daughter and his godson being so close. As a matter of fact, he always had those eyes whenever he looked at the two of you: both very happy and very sad.

You headed to the house, when you realised Bradley wasn’t following.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you turned around and saw him fiddling with his pockets.

“Securing the coin,” he shrugged. “No way I’m going to ever give it back to you, but I don’t wanna lose it.”

You rolled your eyes and tripped him, then reached your father triumphantly, intertwining your hands together and ignoring his disapproval of having Bradley stumble on your foot.

“Dad, why didn’t you tell me you’re friends with a sorcerer?”

“Earth to y/n,” you hear Penny’s voice interrupting your thoughts once again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise, shaking your head and trying to also shake off the smile that won’t disappear from your face. “I got lost on a trip down memory lane. It happens quite a lot lately.”

“Is this memory lane’s name Rooster by any chance?” Penny leans towards you with an elbow on the counter, an eyebrow lifted up funnily.

If it was anybody else, you would have just kicked them and told them to fuck off, but this is Penny and she’s nice and probably the most sane person you know. Also, you kind of see her like your own mother sometimes - and the fact she’s one hundred percent banging your father definitely helps that thought.

“Nope,” you said, sighing. “Rooster’s the name of my mental fatigue. You can also call it either Bradley or Bradshaw.”

“I see,” Penny nods, trying to hide a smile. “Well, looks like your mental fatigue just entered the bar, so you either go rest or face it.”

With a wink, she’s out serving new customers.

Goddamn it, she’s good, you think, smiling. You better keep this one, Dad.

You finally decide to look up towards the entrance to see where Bradley is heading, discovering that he has spotted you already and is indeed heading your way. Something in your stomach sounds a lot like the roar of an F-18 engine, and you really wish it was the beer from before but obviously this is just the effect Bradley has on you now.

There was a time in your life when you would have preferred pulling 10 Gs every hour of the day rather than feeling this way for someone, but now you find that you don't mind it that much. Especially with him.

On the other hand, your nine year old self understood everything back in the day, didn’t she? Honestly, who would have thought.

"Chiquitita, tell me the truuuuth," Payback's drunk voice comes from behind you, and you turn to him and can't help but laugh at him and Fanboy pretending to serenade each other. "I'm a shoulder you can cry onnnn."

"Your best friendddd," Fanboy sings back, spreading his arms and tipping half beer over himself. "I'm the one you must rely onnnn."

“ABBA? Seriously?”

You turn your head so quickly you almost hear your neck crack. “The world is full of surprises, these days.”

Bradley sits on the chair next to you, his uniform flawless as his whole appearence. The moment you met a week ago after an awfully long time, you almost laughed in his face when you noticed the moustache. You just couldn't help it, perhaps because you would never have thought of him rocking that look, especially not after witnessing firsthand his dark phase in high school.

But the urge to laugh didn't last long when you realised how freaking hot he was with that moustache - which you find terrible on anyone else, by the way - and the hair so perfect. You barely recognised your childhood friend, that person to whom you gave that coin found on the sidewalk. 

You get lost in your messy head for the umpteenth time tonight, missing the moment Penny brought both you and Bradley another round of beer.

“Cheers!” Bradley says, taking a sip while you completely ignore your beer to just stare at him. 

All you want to say is that you’re sorry for how things went back then, sorry that you didn’t fight enough when your father hindered Bradley's career a few years back and that led you to go separate ways… Because you’ve always supported each other from soul to eyes. That’s what you were, that’s what you are, friends that belong together in this life and evermore.

But the only noise that escapes your mouth is one almost inaudible: “Cheers.”

“You know,” Bradley starts, “I get it if you’re still mad at me. It was me who left after all, I was put in a position where I couldn’t stay. But I’m sorry this affected our relationship, you’ve never stopped being my favorite person in the whole world. I just wanted you to know.”

He's looking at you with eyes that shine like pebbles washed by the ocean waves, and his smile ignites an inner fire in you you almost feel like truly burning. 

“I’m not mad, just-” you start, looking away and staring at the coaster as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room. “Just sad, kinda. We grew up together and I was so used to always having you around, and suddenly you were gone. And now you’re back again and I don’t know for how long, and I simply want things to go back as they were but I don’t know how or what to do.”

You dare to look up again to see his reaction to your words, and find him staring back at you, his mouth curled up in a wistful grin, as if he felt all those things too... Bradley nods weakly and then one amused snort comes out of his mouth.

“What?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing, I think I just have the solution to that.”

“Well?” you prompt as he keeps his silence. 

Bradley huffs out a small laugh while pulling out his wallet and, after fiddling for some time with it, he finally finds what he was looking for. 

“Open your hand,” he instructs you and you oblige with curiosity which turns into disbelief the moment a small, cold coin lands on your palm. Yes, that coin, the very one you’ve been thinking about just ten minutes ago.

“No fucking way,” is all you can say.

“Yeah, as it happens I can take care of things,” Bradley says, beaming at your incredulous face. You can’t help but turn the coin in your hand over and over again, trying to find something that makes you realise it's not really the same one, that Bradley is just fooling you. But the truth is, it’s really it. “I can still see your face back then when you found it, you felt like it’d make you rich or something. Then we discovered it was just a token.”

Surprisingly, you erupt into a loud laughter, causing some curious heads around you two to turn. It's true, though: that same evening you had found the coin, Bradley showed it to your father, praising how generous his daughter was - with an obvious tone of mockery - and Maverick broke your dreams by telling you that it was only a token.

“Oh my gosh,” you laugh, wiping some tears from the corner of your eye. “I remember.”

“And do you also happen to remember why you gave me this?” Bradley queries with both a curious and hesitant tone.

You nod. “I found it, you wanted it, I stamped my feet until you gave it back and then I gifted it to you.”

“Yes, and,” he replies, eyes narrowing a little as he emphasises the last word, “you made me promise I’d give it back to you when I was ready to be your boyfriend.”

All you want to do is sink your head in the sand and never emerge from it again, but somehow you manage to maintain a certain composure and pretend to suddenly remember, as if in reality you weren't thinking about it just a few minutes before.

“Ah, yes!” you shriek, pointing a finger at him. “Yes, and I remember clearly you said you’d never give it back to me ever again. So I’m confused now.”

“You were such a little menace at that age,” Bradley shakes in head, but he’s laughing. “It cracks me up that you had a crush on me when you were little.”

“I didn’t have a crush on you, for chrissake!” you protest. “I was only a little kid, I didn’t even know the meaning of it all. Well, if you really want to retrace all of our Hall of Shame, let me remind you that in high school you were the one who had a crush on me.”

“But you were with someone else at the time,” Bradley nods. “And then when you were ready, I was with that girl from Tennessee.”

“Yeah, and when we finally got to be reasonable and thinking that maybe we should’ve given us a chance, you left,” you can’t help but say, and you’re pretty sure it came out harsher than you meant it to be and feel guilty instantly, so you kind of try to make up to it. “And now we’re thirty-something and still a couple of fools, apparently.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he gently places a hand on yours and you feel the chills run from the point where your hands touch all along your spine. “If I could turn back time, I'd do things differently. I'd choose you a hundred times. If we won't sacrifice for love, it ain't love, right? That's the way it is.”

And what on earth are you supposed to answer to that?

Bradley just told you he loves you, who knows if he planned it or if he was just making a consideration and it came out just like that. And in that moment, with the simplicity but at the same time power of that knowledge, you can't help but think that falling in love with him was so easy that you almost didn't notice, as if it were normal... The most difficult part is probably realising it, coming to terms with that information.

“Unfortunately, as good as you are as a pilot, I don’t think you’re fast enough to fly back in time,” you try, joking. “But one thing you can do, Rooster, is ask me out if we ever get home from this mission all in one piece. And then we’ll see what happens.”

His face somewhere between amazed and joyful can't help but make you grin, and you almost feel like it gave you the power to truly step back in time to the moment you gave Bradley that famous token that's now back in your hand.

You realise that his hand is still resting on yours, so you slowly turn it so that your fingers intertwine with his. You don't care if someone is watching, you don't care if Penny has been spying on you out of the corner of her eye the whole time, you don't care if all around you there's a chaos of music and people chatting and dancing.

It's just you and Bradley in this not so new bubble of love.

[anyoneseenadam]

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

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You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.  

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!”  you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

[fireflykaizoku]

Hey!! I'm obsessed with your soulmates swap aus, really i love them they're so good i can't even explain 😭

Could i ask you one with kid but no one can really see they exchanged bodies 'cause they are literally the same? Like y/n has the same character as kid so they seems literally the same as always and it's quite a problem.

Thank you if you do, have a nice day 💕

helloo anon my love! ❤ i'm so so glad you like them! i'm sorry i took long, by the way! but here it is, and i hope you like it! have a nice day ❤

— What are you looking at? — you snapped at someone at the bar. That person was looking at you for you don’t even know how long.

— (Y/N), calm down. It’s your birthday, don’t stress trying to fight again. — one of your friends asked, holding your arm. — Just leave it.

You sighed, taking a sip of your drink. It was easy for you to get irritated and start a fight, you had quite a temper, and honestly, you don’t know how your friends put up with you. The only reason why you didn’t get into more fights, it was because of them.

— I swear, your soulmate better be someone calm. — another friend giggled. — Imagine if they have that temper.

— It’d be a chaos. — you laughed, forgetting about the fight you almost started before. — But I guess the world couldn’t handle a couple like that. I hope they’re level headed.

It was late when you went back home, and you fell asleep right after, hoping you wouldn’t have a hangover the next morning.

Your peaceful slumber got interrupted with a loud bang on the door. Since when your roommate got so aggressive? You barely had time to open your eyes, and realize you were sitting on a chair, in front of a desk, in a room that wasn’t yours. It smelled like oil and metal. What an awful time to switch bodies with your soulmate.

You knew it’d happen eventually, but it wasn’t something you looked forward to, unlike your friends who acted as if it was such an event.

— Kid, the ship just docked. — someone said. — We’ll go get some supplies and head to a bar.

— Go away! — you screamed, still in shock while looking at that body which obviously wasn’t yours.

The man had scars on his chest and right arm, while apparently he didn’t have his left arm, replaced with a heavy mechanical one. You looked at the long coat over your shoulder, the vest and his pants and couldn’t help laughing at his fashion taste. How tacky.

— What a clown. — you whispered to yourself, still laughing. — Out of all people, this is my soulmate? How lucky…

You got up and headed to a bathroom, maybe when you washed your face and actually felt awake, you could find a solution to switch back and go home. Looking at the broken and dirty mirror, your soulmate was very attractive. He had red hair, no eyebrows, a scar on the left side of his face, and goggles. He’s someone you’d look at if you saw him at a bar.

— Now, how do I find him? — you asked yourself. — Well, if he’s in my body, I’ll call my house. I’m sure there’s a den den mushi here somewhere.

When you left the bathroom, you tried to find the transponder snail. It took a while, walking from room to room, but you finally spotted one in what seemed to be the captain’s bedroom. You started calling your house, hoping that your soulmate would answer.

— What?! — the man answered. — If you’re the person who is in my body, you better find a way to switch back.

— Look, I’m not happy with this situation either. I want to go back to my body, so what do we do now?

He sighed, obviously as annoyed as you were.

— I’m the captain of this ship, so you tell my crew to come here to your island so we can switch back. Don’t let people know what’s going on, I don’t want anyone to know about that. I have a damn reputation.

— Are you even that relevant? — you laughed.

— Watch it, just because you’re my soulmate it doesn’t mean you can talk to me like that.

You rolled your eyes, hanging up before replying. First, you went to the kitchen, feeling thirsty. Luckily they had some beer. You took one, and soon enough, you found one of the crew members that stayed on the ship. You demanded to go to your island quick.

— We need to go there. It’s important, and don’t ask any questions, I’ll be working on something or whatever.

You went back to Kid’s workshop, slamming the door behind you. Being in another body was annoying. You didn't know who this person was, you were far from home, and his mechanical arm was so heavy it was bothering you.

When a tall blonde man wearing a mask knocked on the door, opening it right after, you just told him to go away, threatening to throw something at him if he didn’t leave. After that, everyone left you alone.

The only time when anyone knocked on the door after that, was the next morning, when someone said they arrived at the destination.

Finally!

— I’ll be back soon. I don’t want neither of you following me around, got it? — you asked and the crew nodded.

You left the ship, going towards your house. And when the door opened you saw your figure, which was very weird.

— Took you long enough! — he said with a frown. — How do we switch back now?

— I should’ve know you don’t understand about soulmates. — you sighed. — We need to kiss.

— Is that all? — he seemed surprised, thinking it was too easy to be true. — Then let’s kiss now!

— It’s not a simple kiss, you fool. It’s a kiss when we’re in love, which it’s probably not going to happen, so we need to figure something out.

Kid yelled, complained, cussed, and finally accepted how things really were. You two tried to talk without bickering on each other, trying to think of another solution. And after a long discussion, with you yelling at him, both decided that you needed to stay with him on the Victoria Punk until you could switch back.

The crew kept whispering, curious about who was that small person that their Captain just brought to the ship. Maybe an affair? A new member or an ally? No one dared to ask him directly, though, especially since he was in a bad mood.

Kid still didn’t want the crew to know, even though Killer was smart enough and could probably help. You spent many times together at his workshop, seeing him work while you complained you were bored. At night, you two agreed that sleeping in his room would be the best. The red haired man let you keep the bed, saying he didn’t want his body to be sick or in pain, apparently. Whenever his mechanical arm got too heavy, he tried to ease the weight or help you take it off.

Eventually, you had longer conversations with him, seeing you two had a lot in common, surprisingly.

The showers were a little weird, especially during the first few times, when he kept saying your body was very hot, making you feel flustered for the first time in your life. But after a while, it just felt normal.

It has been almost a month since you two met. The ship had docked and everyone was at a bar. A man was flirting with you, or well, with Kid, while thinking it was you. Indeed, you used to draw attention from people when you went out, and you forgot about that until a man was approaching Eustass, complimenting his beautiful looks.

Feeling annoyed, and perhaps even a little jealous thinking that other men wanted you, he got up from his sit and pulled you into a kiss. Of course, the crew had their eyes open. Who knew the mysterious person Kid brought was that straightforward, and who knew their captain would let someone steal a kiss from him.

The kiss wasn’t romantic or cute. It was full of passion and desire, it was unexpected and possessive, as if he was saying “you’re mine”. He bit your lip, and it felt like he was claiming you. Honestly, it was a good feeling, as if you’ve been waiting, without even knowing, for him to make this first move.

You felt butterflies, something you’ve never felt before.

When you opened your eyes, you saw his figure towering over you, and a grin that wouldn’t leave his face so soon. He pulled you closer, making it clear that you were his. He didn’t even ask, but your answer would be “yes” anyway.

— I can’t believe we finally switched back. — he laughed, flexing his arm. — I missed my body.

The crew gasped.

— Switch back? — Heat asked. — Wait, you were in (Y/N)’s body this whole time? And (Y/N) was in your body?

— I must say, I’m surprised. I couldn’t notice any difference. — Killer said. — You two are very alike.

At first, you two seemed offended until realizing the masked man was actually right. You two has the same personality, and it wasn’t what you expected your soulmate to be. Someone peaceful and quiet would be fun, but someone who could raise a little hell with you could be even better.

— You’re annoying sometimes, but I want you to sail with me anyway. — he said gently lifting your chin with his index finger, still with his signature smirk on his face.

[alliedbiscuit]

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

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

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

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

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

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

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

[yesimwriting]

Searing Starlight (chapter 3)

A/n I CANNOT believe how many people have supported this story,, I’m so excited to continue it with you guys :)) 

Just a reminder that while this is based off the show i hope to blend in some book aspects/vibes and this is just a fanfic and it won’t be completely accurate/follow the show 100% and any changes I make/parts I chose not to focus on are for the sake of the story I’m trying to tell 

-- 

I can’t tell if I wish Kaz had let me go with Inej or not. She’s faster than I am, and considering that I have no real reason to be loyal to them, I’m a flight risk. That means I’m stuck here with only the Kaz Brekker and Jesper, who I tricked. I hadn’t exactly befriended Inej entirely in the few minutes I was alone with her, but she seemed more trustworthy than them. More susceptible to reason. And when she heard where I was from, who was responsible for raising me, something in the way she watched me changed. It was the oddest combination--a look of both tired sympathy and cautious admiration.

“What I don’t understand…” Jesper breaks the silence. “Is why you all go back there. He lets you leave, he gives you money--there’s no reason to return.” 

I try not to let the question anger me. I shift awkwardly, scratching at my palm. “We tried leaving.” My stomach knots. “Once.” How do I make them understand? “He caught us because we young and stupid, and then he…” I exhale slowly. They’re just words. They don’t change anything. Whether I speak them or not, the events of my history aren’t different. “He picked the youngest, a girl only six months younger than me, and he slit her throat from ear to ear and took a finger of anyone that flinched as her blood splattered onto them. He said her blood was our penance and to live with knowing what we did to her would be our punishment.” 

I don’t tell them that I was twelve. I don’t tell them Anya lied about my birthday on the records. I don’t tell them I’m missing the very tip of my pinky--a small punishment for the twitch of my lip. “When Kenya is truly angry, he never hurts you--he hurts those around you.” No one responds to that. They’re making me seem like such a bummer. “It’s not awful all the time...he borders on agreeable when you listen to him.” 

Most days we have peace, left to our own devices as long as we accomplish certain goals. Their silence does little to unnerve me. After speaking so freely of such a nightmare, the desire to be rid of the taste of those words from my mouth is almost overwhelming, but I hold to the silence. 

“Why has he never sold you to the grisha that are so desperate for you?”

Of course Kaz Brekker would ask a question like that. “He isn’t the business of money, he’s in the business of creating gods. He indentures people he thinks could one day become saints or something else entirely. He wants to be owed by the heavens.” 

I watch Kaz carefully, a part of me curious about how someone like him could react to a goal like that. I can see him understanding the ambition of it all, but I can’t imagine himself a person of faith. Perhaps he’ll think it a clever trick. Perhaps he’ll even agree with Kenya.

He nods once; something I get nothing from. 

Whatever. He can be coy and distant this entire time. They all can. I’ll be out of here soon enough, and I’ll find Anya. And if I can stop something bad from happening to Alina then that’s a bonus I’m willing to take risks for. 

“That man is awful.” 

Inej’s voice comes from right behind me. I snap my head around. “You’re in here.” 

She nods once, oblivious to how shocking her sudden appearance is. She hands me a knapsack casually, staring at Kaz. “What’s the plan? We have six hours.” 

I look around the room, only seeing one closed window and one closed door. “There’s one door in this room.” 

“We take the Inferni to the ship.” He doesn’t even bother looking in my direction. 

Okay, they can be mean to be all they want but they can’t ignore me. I don’t think I’ve ever been ignored in my entire life. Gods in the making get attention. It may be the cruel attention of fate, but it’s something. 

“Did she come in through the window?” 

Again, I am ignored. 

“And then what, boss?” Jesper casually crosses the room, sitting down next to me on the small couch. It’s like I’m not even here. “We’d need to break into the Little Palace to get Alina.” 

What? “You guys are going to--” No. No. I am not kidnapping Alina. And there’s no way she’d be in the Little Palace. “First off--if you want to kidnap Alina Starkov for whatever insane ploy you’re all playing at, you’d never find her at Little Palace. She’s not a Grisha and second--” I cut myself off, standing from my seat. “Why am I even telling you this? I shouldn’t be helping you kidnap her.” 

Kaz’s eyes dart to me boredly. At least it’s some kind of acknowledgement of my existence. “I thought you two weren’t close.” 

I seriously consider scorching him. Just a little. Not even enough to scar him, just enough to get him to shut up. “She’s still a person who has a right to her body and what happens to it.” 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but if we pull this off we get one million kruge.” 

What does he think I’m going to say? ‘Okay, well as long as you’re doing it for a good reason.’ Is that the response he expects. “Okay, well that makes it fair.” 

His eyes narrow skeptically, but Jesper is the one to ask, “Really?” 

“No,” I scoff, slumping back into my seat, “I was being sarcastic.” 

I drop my head back, neck craning over the back of the small couch. It isn’t exactly comfortable, but at least it makes it easier to ignore them. I’ve kept worse company for less. There’s an odd silence for a long second. I look forward without moving, I see Kaz vaguely gesture in Inej’s direction.

“Y/n,” Inej’s voice is refreshingly measured, “I think after the kinds of things we’ve gone through we understand that there’s some relativity in morality.” 

I shift my head to the right so I can look at her. “...Yes, but you’re just forcing another girl into a similar situation.” Why is Alina even worth so much? “And why would anyone pay so much for Alina?” 

Inej hesitates, glancing at Kaz and then back at me. “She’s a Sun Summoner.” 

On instinct, I straighten entirely, my body rigid. They’re insane. “You all are cracked if you think Alina’s a Sun Summoner.” No. No. It couldn’t be her. “Bless your hearts, seriously, she’s--she was trained to be a map maker--she’s not…” None of them relax, none of them shift in any way. What good would lying about this bring them? They have no reason to lie about this. “Saints, I should have had more to drink while downstairs.” 

So what if she’s a Sun Summoner? She didn’t ask to be one. She doesn’t deserve this. I cross my arms. “It doesn’t make this okay.” 

“And would it make it okay if you were getting a cut of the profit?” What? 

Kaz is looking at me in that tactful way. It takes all of my focus to not let myself become unnerved. “What?” 

“If I offered you a cut, would you be able to push aside more protests in order to make working with you easier?” 

Could I do it? Could I betray Alina? I drop my gaze away from his, opting to focus on the forgotten lantern on the coffee table in front of me. It flickers to life with no conscious prompting on my part. The flame is low and blue. Still though, Kaz notices it. What doesn’t he notice? 

“I can help you do what I agreed to.” I swallow around a lump in my throat, “But I cannot help you kidnap Alina.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs downwards. “We’re just going to get her to work with us.” 

“Work with you?” 

“We never said anything about taking her, and if Alina is really your friend you should know that the entire world is after her. Better us who can get her out of an unwanted situation quickly than the brutal General Kirigan who will hold her hostage until she does what he wants.” 

...I guess he has a point. “Oh.” I’m not naive enough to think that their methods will revolve around making Alina comfortable, but perhaps it’s not as dark as I assumed. “Maybe I was a little quick to assume…” I trail off awkwardly, looking at Inej for some type of reassurance. She avoids my gaze. 

I scratch the back of my arm, feeling like a spiraling child. I pick up my knapsack and place it on my lap, fiddling with the strap. 

“Come on,” Kaz stands, adjusting his grip on his cane, “We only have until sunrise.” 

As I stand, I pull down the skirt of my dress, suddenly aware of how inappropriate my clothing is for this late in the night. “Can--can I change first?” 

It’s a sheepish question, leaving me feeling like a child. 

“Five minutes,” Kaz offers, stepping out of the room with the rest of them. 

Inej leaves last, feet more silent than a cat. She offers me the tiniest hint of a smile. Despite my reservations, I beam at her. Something about me finds her politeness endearing despite it all. I think she closes the door loudly on purpose, to assure me of privacy. 

Normally changing in a building so full of drunk men would leave me nervous, but knowing Inej is outside leaves me feeling safe. I may not trust her with my life but something about her being tells me she values personal autonomy enough to protect it. 

I sift through the belongings Inej brought me. Clean underwear I try not think of her searching for, a thin white dress, comfortable pants, shorts, a few casual shirts, my red hood, and a nightgown. When I get to the bottom of the bag, and I see the personal belongings Inej smuggled back for me, I’m moved so powerfully my hand flies to my mouth on instinct. She had brought the folded up piece of paper with the only information I’ve been able to find about Kamil, the book I left on my nightstand, the small candle holder Alina had given me the day before I was taken away, the blade Mal had given me the day I left, the deck of playing cards Anya had first taught me to play with, and my mother’s necklace. The silver north star on a long chain. 

Before I can become too emotional, I take off the Crow’s Club T-shirt Inej had given me when I looked cold. I change into black pants, tucking the small blade Mal had given me into the pocket. The shirt I put on is pale blue, breaking the dark theme of everything around me. I fasten my red hood over my shoulders, basking in the familiar fabric. Lastly, I pull the north star necklace over my head, watching the blue orb with a black dot at its center blink at me in the light. I always found the stone at the pendant’s center odd. I'm quick to walk towards the door, nervous about what wasting their time could mean. 

“Let’s do this,” I sigh, pushing open the door. 

They all pause. Or maybe they were never moving. I try to imagine them interacting normally, but it’s hard to picture them as anything but intense and unflinching. There’s something odd about them, though, Jesper practically sulking and Kaz dropping his head despite Inej’s harsh stare.

“What kind of stone is in your necklace?” 

I swear to the Saints that if Kaz Brekker tries to steal it I’ll melt those leather gloves into his hands. “Try to take it and--” 

“That’s what I get for trying to make ‘polite conversation.’” He throws a look at Inej as he speaks the last two words. 

Wait--did Inej tell him to try to make polite conversation? Wait--more importantly, did he just kind of, almost say something that borders on casual? 

Wrinkling my nose, I let out a slight sigh. “Sorry.” 

His eyebrows draw together quizzically. “Did you just apologize for assuming I’d steal from you?” 

Great. Now I’m fully embarrassed. “Can we just go?” 

“Not before meeting me, I hope.” The stranger’s voice means nothing to me, but the others tense at it immediately. What? The man continues to walk forward, his steps too casual and confident for me to trust. The stranger is quick to respond to the question on my face, “Pekka Rollins.” 

--

Taglist: @ambrosia-v-black @fandomstuffff @boxofteenageideas @losers-club6 @cityofstaars @stillreadingfantasy @slatersbrekker  @xoxo-aclown @alzawas-plug @nuwanda-greaser @swearingsolemnly @-thatgirloverthere-

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[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Five)

Word Count- 3921

Morning had come around a lot quicker than you had hoped it would, the sunlight peeking through the curtains and birds singing outside making drifting back off an impossible task. Though you felt well rested, you simply just didn't want to move anywhere any time soon. Last night had begun with Mycroft shyly placing his hand on your hip as your back pressed close to his chest, but this morning had ended with Mycroft on his back and you with your head resting between his chest and shoulder, hand crossing over with fingers hooked over the pyjama's pocket. You'd never expected to be the type to wake up earlier than Mycroft Holmes, particularly not two days on the bounce, but you wouldn't complain. He looked so peaceful as he slept, the sunlight turning his auburn hair far more ginger, his freckles on his nose matching. You slowly reached one arm backwards, blindly feeling around for your phone on the bedside table and reading through your messages. You grinned seeing a text from Greg and had to fight the small laugh that threatened to escape you.

'Hey, just thought I'd check in on you both and see how you're getting on. I hate to feel pushy but we do really need to start that paperwork, today ideally. Figured I'd pop round later if it's alright- I need a sodding nap first though. Spent the majority of last night receiving phone calls about mysterious activity around St James', load of dodgy cars sending people away, loads of papers.. don't suppose you saw any of that down your way did you, makes life easier?"

Your fingers typed a response- 'Uhh..guilty as charged.. Myc was in jeans and a Who top, daren't be seen by the public..I'll get him to fix it when he's up x'- a grin playing on your face. Yeah okay you felt a little bad, but Greg had dealt with worse. After pressing send, you scrolled further through your notifications, spotting one from John. Nothing major, just checking in and inviting you both over for late lunch, mentioning briefly how it'll do Sherlock some good seeing his brother, even if he doesn't believe it himself- evidently also receiving a message from Greg as he also explained how it would make Lestrade have to do one less visit for paperwork if you popped over a little earlier. Before you could type an answer, you felt Mycroft shift beneath you, stretching out the arm that wasn't trapped beneath your body.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty." You teased, turning your head and placing a small kiss on the Holmes' chin. Mycroft blinked, rubbing his eyes and offering you a 'good morning' in response as he eyed up you typing on your phone.

"Needed to be whisked away to catch a criminal mastermind already?" He asked, sitting up a little as you moved to give him a little more space, his arm still loosely tucked behind your back, though his torso now free.

"Your deductions in the morning are lacking.. though close. Mastermind, but not criminal. John and Sherlock have invited us to late lunch, Greg's popping over to start the first part of paperwork handling, only the basic stuff this time round, so figured it would make it easier on him only having to go to one home before we left." Mycroft breathed deeply, fingers raising to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I think I'd have rathered the criminal." He spoke, already mentally planning the afternoon, the conversations he would likely have, the way Sherlock would behave. What if he still hadn't forgiven him? It was surprising enough that you had let him off so easily, but Sherlock was different. Sherlock was a Holmes, and someone of whom already had feudal tendencies with Mycroft, it was bound to end terribly. As though you had read his mind, you moved your hand to take his from his face as you noticed his fingertips whitening as he pinched harder.

"Hey, it'll be fine. He doesn't blame you, he's been far too silent for that to be the case. From the way John sounded, it actually seemed more like he was worried about you, though you know he'd never admit that." Mycroft hummed in response, not being able to find the right words to say before reaching over and grabbing his own mobile. "World ending yet?"

"Not yet. Though with any luck, quarrels could happen before lunch." He mused, one side of his mouth raising slightly in a playful smirk.

"Mycroft you can't wish for conflicts amongst empires to get out of a meal with your brother."

"Can't I?" He raised a brow.

"Anthea wouldn't allow it anyway. We're on strict instruction to not go into work for the next couple of weeks, nations be damned. Lunch sounds far more appealing too." You slid yourself out of bed and grabbed one of the bags from Anthea that you brought upstairs last night, taking a handful of clothing items and tucking them under your arm.

"But it isn't lunch, is it? It's LATE Lunch, settled approximately around 3pm, too late for lunch, too early for dinner. It's impractical by any means; you starve yourself at real lunch so you do not ruin your appetite, and then by dinner time you're hungry once again. And if you eat at both of those times as well as the late lunch, your feeding schedules become on par with a bloody Hobbit." You rolled your eyes and headed to the bathroom. "Though you may be more accustomed to such choices given the height similarity between yourself and Mr Brandybuck."

"Cheeky sod, not all of us have glorious Holmesian legs. I'm sure you'll survive a few hours.. Oh, you also owe Greg an apology." You chuckled, opening the message back up and tossing your phone in the general direction of Mycroft's lap before going to get dressed. After reading the message, you heard Mycroft let out a laugh from the other room, the rare kind that you knew made the sides of his eyes crease and his head tip back slightly in amusement; you were sorry you missed it.

Leaving the bathroom, you couldn't help but notice the silk pyjama clad man standing mindlessly in front of his open wardrobe, glancing over each individual item of clothing. Wandering behind him, you moved up on your tiptoes and peered over his shoulder at the rows of suits. You were still dressed relatively comfortably in a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt, which you felt was appropriate for the later meal that would likely be somewhere like Angelo's- but you equally knew that Mycroft's idea of 'comfort' lay within his three pieces, pocket squares and oxfords.

"Don't panic, I'm not going to begrudge you of your precious suits today. You deserve it after actually going through with my wardrobe choice for you.. I didn't actually expect you to do it." You laughed, squeezing his shoulder fondly. "We slept in late again, there's barely any morning left." You commented, glancing over at the clock that read 10:53am. "Can I tempt you in Elevenses, Mr Baggins?" You grinned, your Lord of the Rings reference not being missed by Mycroft. He cast you a playful glare, fighting the urge to childishly poke his two fingers up at you. "What? Not judging my bedside manner this time?"

"It is useless to meet revenge with revenge; it solves nothing." He quoted Frodo without hesitation, bastard probably already planned that you'd quip back with something smart and already armed himself with Shire related comebacks. You, in contrast to Mycroft, did have the tendencies to become childish and did opt for the two fingered response, an adoring smile unnaturally paired.

Not many people got to know of Mycroft's little nerdy side, and you took pride in being one of the few that did, though you took more pride in him for being able to easily reel off the quotes. Though he had told you before that The Lord of the Rings trilogy had been his favourite of everything you made him watch, then when he read the books? You wouldn't hear from him for hours at a time while he binge read through them for the tenth time round, and of course you had noticed the varying editions of the three books on his bookshelf in his personal office, rather than lining the shelves in his small library room. If anything, it just made him more endearing.

Though it was nothing compared with his love of Doctor Who. Bless his heart, you had taken him to watch David Tennant's Richard II a few years ago for his birthday and he was insistent on waiting behind after the performance to catch David leaving and got him to sign his special edition box set of his DW seasons. He even had a photo taken with him, his expression being easily comparable to the likes of a child who just got a puppy for Christmas- and, much to his dismay, the photograph had had a prime place on your desk at NSY since the event.

You made your way downstairs, calling out something about making omelettes and leaving Mycroft alone to get ready. His fingers skimmed across the expensive fabrics, tugging out an olive green suit and red tie and pocket square to match. The smell of the food you were preparing began to fill his nose, making his stomach growl as he rushed to the bathroom to get dressed. After removing his pyjama top, Mycroft caught a glance of himself in the mirror, prodding at the pudge of his stomach that settled just over his pyjama bottoms, before sucking in flat and looking again. Maybe he should forego the omelette and just wait until later.. another growl.. okay maybe just a little, just so he didn't raise suspicion. He sighed, stomach relaxing back to its natural state before finishing his morning routine, tugging his trousers up a little higher than usual to tuck away the offending belly fat.

Mycroft had always suffered with his weight, he knew that. He also knew of his past, how he would skip meals, or spend hours upon hours on his treadmill, or the time he was under Doctor Chinnery for just shy of three years following his habits of completing his meals with his fingers down the back of his throat over the toilet just after his job promotions exceeded and he found himself in much higher rankings- public appearance being far more important than any personal preference. Though his eating disorder had improved, the years of therapy didn't miraculously improve his self-confidence. It was one of the many reasons he preferred inviting others for dinners, or at the very least having his days to himself when he knew he would be going out later in the evening. Spontaneous meals out like the one he would be attending in a few hours, or having somebody at home with him while he waited for said meals threw him off balance completely- his usual routine of fasting beforehand as to not appear rude or raise suspicions when he ate in public being disturbed significantly. You knew of his past, deduced it, actually, and had been nothing but supportive, trying your best to convince him for years that he was perfectly healthy and encouraging him to eat better, to actually consume meals. He was thankful, of course he was, but it didn't help his insecurities around you, no matter how welcoming you had been or however many compliments you gave him. His body was covered in stretch marks and areas of loose skin from his weight loss over the years, his chest hair, though scarce, was a coppery ginger and his body was covered in so many freckles he looked like an explosion at a dot to dot factory. It led him to remember the other reason why he had never previously attempted to pursue a relationship with you; if he was disgusted and horrified at the appearance of his nude body then what on earth would you think when that time eventually came around? He daren't even try to imagine your face. You'd worked with Sherlock long enough to have seen him wander around naked and Mycroft had to admit that his brother at least had a body worth parading about in the nude, then there was Gregory who, despite not having an exactly chiseled body, still had the rugged good looks and toned chest- a physique that clearly represented the physical aspects of his occupation- there was no doubt you'd compare him to them and he would come up short every time.

"Myc? You gonna be long? Yours is going to be freezing!" Your voice had knocked him out of his thoughts and he quickly shrugged on the rest of his clothes, straightening his tie in the mirror and plastering on a small smile as he headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Apologies.. the cufflinks failed in succession to cooperate at first." You had eyed him suspiciously, knowing that Mycroft had worn enough suits in his lifetime that he could probably find a way to put one on to completion in 5 minutes in the dark with oven mitts on.

"I know I've been so against the suits, but I have to admit that you look incredible.. I think that one's my new favourite." You commented casually, placing a quick kiss to his temple as he sat at the table. "That colour is lovely." He quirked a brow.

"New favourite? You've had old ones?"

"Obviously." Imitating Sherlock. "Charcoal pinstripe with that light blue shirt- brings your eyes out wonderfully... and your bum." You winked, positively enjoying the pink that dusted the man's cheeks, and the way he would open his mouth to speak and then close it before any words came out. In his defence, he was really not used to receiving such compliments. And in your defence, you weren't particularly used to giving them, not like that anyway. You'd blame Greg, he was a terrible influence and an incredible flirt- using his charm to at the very least try and make you laugh when you had shitty days.

You lay his plate in front of him, a coffee to its side, before beginning to tuck into your own meal. You had learned early on that if you didn't wait until Mycroft was able to eat then he likely wouldn't eat at all. While drinking his coffee fairly happily, you hadn't missed that the vast majority of Mycroft's breakfast was still on the plate, cut in smaller pieces and rearranged to appear as though he had eaten more than he truly had. Frowning, you didn't press- knowing better than to point out his behaviour and just being thankful he had eaten anything at all (about a third of the omelette and half a slice of toast if your judgements were correct) but had elected to keep an eye on him. You finished your own food in silence before crossing the cutlery over on your plate and beginning to speak.

"I figured if we left now we could have a bit of time for you to go through the first set of paperwork, Greg should be getting there in the next 10 minutes or so, and then by the time we finish and have a cup of tea it'll be time to go out." You suggested, taking Mycroft's plate to clear away after he had sent a nod to show he was finished. He made a small groan at the need to go at all, but soon acquiesced, sent a text for a car and stood to go to the front door. Tugging on a hoodie, you opened the door and took a step back, the wind shooting in your face and making you scowl. Mycroft made an amused sound and offered you the scarf of his that you had worn last night. Rather than taking the garment, you stood and waited for him to wrap it the same expert way that he had the night before. "I also text Greg to run by my flat and grab my coat so I'll be able to stop stealing your expensive scarves soon.. though this one feels so lovely I may text him again to leave it on the tube." You laughed, stepping back outside once again and walking with Mycroft to the end of the road where a car was waiting. Mycroft had wanted to respond, to make a comment about how he didn't mind letting you wear his things, how he actually quite liked it. But he stayed silent, offering a small smile instead and a soft hand at the small of your back. Mycroft opened the door for you, climbing in after and settling against the plush seats of the lavish car.

As the car began to move you tensed a little, a thought popping into your head.

"Myc.. does Sherlock know yet? About us? I might have hinted at it a little when I spoke to Lestrade earlier but I didn't press.. I just.. I didn't know if you were telling people." You asked awkwardly. Christ it made it sound like you were in some forbidden relationship. Mycroft's jaw clenched a little.

"I wasn't aware it was secret knowledge, if that's what you are asking Y/N. In response to your question, no. I haven't spoken to Sherlock at all since.." He trailed. "And I am not the sort of man to walk into a room and actively announce that kind of thing. But you should know that he will likely deduce it the moment we walk through the door being as you are wearing my clothing, your hair smells like my shampoo and your skin still has traces of the scent of my soap. So if you didn't want anybody to know, then I strongly suggest we rearrange our plans for this afternoon." Who was he kidding? Of course you didn't want people to know that you were actually together now- you would look ridiculous being such a pretty young woman with a man like Mycroft in tow. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. "If you are going to say you could argue the soaps then it would simply be futile, he knows I have your regular brand at your disposal; he'd know you used mine in the form of... sentiment." The last word felt wrong on his tongue now, knowing you had hoped to keep your.. relationship.. behind closed doors. Mycroft Holmes was a very private man, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't want knowledge of your relationship to be at least semi-public, having felt a little giddy when you'd chosen to cross that line with him.

"What? No, I wasn't going to talk about the sodding shampoo." You grinned, reaching a hand over to place on his knee. "Jesus Myc, I asked because I didn't know if YOU were comfortable with people knowing. I'm pretty sure everyone inside that flat knew I fancied you the last few years, I'd proudly walk in and show that my pining eventually paid off. I just know you have appearances to keep up and I didn't want to ruin that, or embarrass you in front of Sherlock." For what seemed like the millionth time in the last few days, your words surprised Mycroft. He felt his jaw loosen and he took a breath, moving only to briefly place his hand over yours for a small squeeze and moving back again. You didn't expect him to say much, he was Mycroft Holmes, not Romeo Montague, but the small smile you sent back his way let him know that you understood his thoughts. The drive to Baker Street was only 10 or so minutes from Mycroft's home so you soon arrived in no time at all, the slick black car smoothly pulling up outside number 221.

"I can only hope my dear brother deduces our relationship correctly and doesn't make a vast attempt to embarrass me in front of his peers.. again." Mycroft knocked on the door, his words casting you back to a Christmas you had all shared a couple years ago.

It was a small gathering, consisting of the pair of you, the Baker Street boys, Greg and Mrs Hudson, and a few weeks beforehand, after multiple arguments of whether or not presents should be shared, Mrs Hudson had come up with the wonderful (terrible) idea of secret Santa which, incase you wasn't aware, isn't a fun game when played with two Holmes' that knew everybody's present and Secret Santa before the packages were opened. You had pulled Mrs Hudson and couldn't have been more thrilled, neither could she when she opened her new tea set- a simple floral design decorated its sides, but she was thankful no matter the pattern, the last teapot having been found at the hands of Sherlock housing human eyes. Conveniently enough, Mycroft had pulled your name and elected to subtly buy you a personalised travel mug for work. After you had opened it, Sherlock had scoffed, muttering something along the lines of "Mycroft isn't that shit at buying presents. He bought you a necklace at first but felt too embarrassed to give it to you in such a public setting and panic bought that cup." Continuing on about how Mycroft had put a lot of thought into your original gift and how it was unusual and how it "obviously" meant he favoured you and was attracted to you. Mycroft had left shortly after that, not making eye contact with any of the silent people in the room and climbed into the back of his car, but you had followed suit and clambered in after him- easing the tension by ignoring Sherlock's allegations and giving him the envelope that you had in your pocket. You had told him you had bought him something special anyway, even though he wasn't who you were supposed to buy for, because you cared for and appreciated him- he had opened the envelope slowly and his eyes widened, that rare smile appearing on his face when he was presented with the Richard II tickets. After your exchange Mycroft had given you the necklace anyway, spouting derogatives about his brother's deductions as he did so. It was a small silver chain necklace with a sparkling silver pendant that, upon closer inspection, you had noticed was a police badge.

You smiled fondly at the memory and instinctively placed your hand above your sternum, feeling the small piece of metal beneath your clothing that you hadn't taken off in two years. You turned to face the man beside you a little more, placing a hand on his shoulder and reaching up on your tiptoes to place a lingering kiss on his lips, moving back only when you heard the latch unlock in front of you, and noticing the ever so slight pink tinge to Mycroft's bottom lip from the lip balm you had put on earlier. "That should make it easier to get it right." You commented, fighting the small grin from your face as you noticed Mycroft standing in the same way, lips parted slightly from where your own had been moments ago, a matching pink dusting his cheekbones. The door opened revealing a smug looking Sherlock.

"Be careful Mycroft, you'll catch flies like that if you aren't cautious enough."

[imatechbummerliketomholland]

I wish this trip never ends (sstbthw part 2) - h.h

Word count: 3768

Warning: angst, swear, mention of smoking

Pairing : harry holland

Request: no.

N/A: okay, i took me almost a whole month to write this but i'm kinda need to work on school too. Remember, english is not my first language, so be kind if you spot mistakes, i really tried my best. I asked you who the reader was supposed to end up with ... I'll let you figure it out but ... don't hate me for the end ... because after all ... it might not be the end. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Love you all! xx

taglist : @angeliquekalampoka , @harryhollandsgirlfriend (the one and only harry holland's girlfriend to me)

ღღღ

previously - and you can find part 3

Restoring a relationship of trust and regaining the bond that you both had was particularly difficult. You had to learn to find your place in Harrison's life, but also in his relationship with Grace. You were roommates and friends, but it was complicated to plan meetings with Harrison's busy schedule. Between his job search after the cancellation of his Netflix series, his photo shoots, his dates with Grace, those with his family. It was getting harder and harder to find a moment to reunite with the two of you. It was without counting your schedule.

You were supposed to meet at noon for lunch at that restaurant Harrison told you about where he took his mother earlier this year, for Mother's Day. You felt uncomfortable going to such a place. It was very fancy; you had taken a look at the menu and you knew in advance that you would not be able to afford to split the bill. That was sometimes one of the downsides of being friends with Tom and Harrison. They sometimes forgot that their salary was significantly higher than yours. After all, they were still simple, good-natured guys, never saying no to a quick takeout meal or ordering pizza, drinking a beer at the local pub. And sometimes, they offered to go to prestigious places, not paying attention to money, wanting to please their friends or family.

Currently you were in your room. You were throwing countless of clothes across the room, trying to choose what you could wear to this lunch. Harry stopped dead when one of your dresses flew out of your room, right in front of his nose, blocking his way. You had left your door open and your spontaneity got the better of your best friend.

“Easy, Tiger. I had no idea your clothes had the capacity of Dr. Strange's cape.” He joked before coming into your bedroom.

You turned to find Harry leaning against your doorframe, a smirk encrusted on his face. You gave him an unamused frown and his smile widened. This wasn’t funny at all; you were stressed as hell. It’s not like you still had feelings for Harrison and try to impress him – to be honest, you still had feeling for your friend, but not as intense as before, you had drawn a definitive line on the possibility of a romantic relationship with him, which had helped you a lot. – But you didn’t want to be dressed down and looked like a clown.

“Come on Munchkin, it’s just a lunch. At worst, Harrison can still make it looks like he invited you out for charity, sort of “Make a Wish” event” Harry joked, in his significant humor.

“Go to hell, Robert. Don’t you have a pack bag to make, mister “I’m going to Spain to help my superstar brother to hold his tea while he’s filming”?”

“Rude… I’m a film director, now”

Not for that, you thought to yourself, but don't have the balls to tell your best friend. You didn't want to take this joke too far. You smiled at his cute pretending offended face. You pouted mockingly before biting your lip. You loved the dynamics of your relationship so much. Your humor, sarcasm, your outspokenness, that's what brought you together. Harry pulled you lightly from your closet with a comforting wink. He chose Yves Saint Laurent poppy red wool jersey flared pants that Tom gave you on your birthday. You smiled at his choice. You liked these pair of pants because they were sparkling with vitality, the color was flamboyant. Harry then gave you a satin pearl-colored shirt from Zara and you laughed at the drastic brand difference.

“Oh I see. A classy look but no more than £ 1000 that's pretty smart,” you joked.

The choice of your outfit once again proved the reality of hanging out with wealthy people. You were not poor; you could even be grateful for the life you had had. But it would never occur to you to give your friends clothes that were going over the miles and cents. To be honest, you wanted it. You wanted to live up to the gifts your friends sometimes gave you. But the truth seemed quite different: you had cried over the price of a used Rolex you wanted to give Tom for his birthday. Even having saved for 6 months, you could not afford such a gift.

“Shut up, don’t be so dramatic. Wear that necklace Harrison gave you for Christmas. I’m sure you’ll look fine”

“Thank you,Baz…I guess. ”

You kissed his cheek and then invited him out of your room so you could get ready. It didn't take you more than thirty minutes, time to put on the outfit your best friend had chosen and to put on light makeup. When you were finally ready, you walked to Tom's room. He had offered to take you to the restaurant where you were to join Harrison. But when you got to his ajar door, you could hear the soft sound of a slight snoring. You let out a chuckle before ordering an Uber. You knew he had spent almost a full month in Los Angeles and hadn't returned until early last week. You wanted to leave him as much as possible alone so that he could rest before his trip to Spain for the reshoots of his film Uncharted. Tom was a boy who loved being in touch with those close to him, but you also felt his need to recharge his batteries. That's why you preferred to let him sleep.

You went down to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water before leaving. When your Uber arrived, you left a note on the refrigerator to let the boys know you were safely gone. It was little everyday things that made you look normal that you enjoy. A post-it on the fridge, a table organizing household chores had been drawn up. Note to yourself; It was Harrison's turn to take care of the laundry.

☙♡❧

You had really hoped this was just a grotesque nightmare. That it wasn't real. He was going to arrive; he was just stuck into the traffic. Isn't it?

But you were there, waiting for over an hour and a half, without any news from your friend. Some people watched you with pity eyes, the others didn't give you any attention. You internally thank Harry for choosing your outfit. You didn't look like a lost kitten in this prestigious setting. It didn't prevent you from being ashamed right now. The waiter had urged you to order several times but you had told him that you were expecting someone, that he would arrive any minute. The last time, you didn't know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

But it never happened. Harrison never came to your dinner. You were alone, sitting at a table, pathetically waiting for your friend to show up. It didn't look like him. He had never stand you up before. And not to improve this embarrassing moment, the waiter came to you again. This time, with a man in a suit. He was elegant, carried himself proud but diplomatic. They stopped at your table, a tight smile on their faces. No doubt the man in the suit was to be the manager.

"Miss, my employee told me that you seemed to have occupied this table for a while now. I am sorry to tell you that if you do not order a few things, you will have to leave the establishment"

You looked at him with misty eyes. You have never been so ashamed in your life. You just nod your head, not trusting your voice just yet. After taking a deep breath, you finally apologize to them before telling them that you are going to leave. The manager of the restaurant, out of politeness awkwardly apologizing for this uncomfortable situation.

You've finished the Dry Martini that you allowed yourself to, paying for it with whatever pride you have left. You pulled your cellphone out of your purse and decided to call one of the boys. After three rings, he picked up.

"Hey ... can you please pick me up?"

Your voice was shaky, you were so ashamed but it was less distressing than having to walk the Walk of Shame to your house or cry in an uber. You hung up and shared your location. You left the lobby, leaving the restaurant, standing in front of the entrance to the establishment. The air refreshed your cheeks burning with shame. Luckily it wasn't raining today. Which was pretty nice compared to that early summer you had had.

When you saw Harry's car pulled up in front of you, you slid into the passenger seat without a word. The curly redhead gave you a heartwarming smile but you definitely could see a spark of annoyance in his eyes. You sigh, resigned while shrugging your shoulders. It was obvious that your friendship with Harrison was still shaky.

"I'm sorry, love. He's a jerk about it."

Coincidentally, like a mitigating circumstance, your phone vibrated, receiving a notification from Harrison. You were chewing your lip with a sort of anguish and irritation, watching the message the blond had sent you.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. My agent called me for a pretty urgent casting briefing. She's detained me until now. Are you still okay for this dinner?"

You were angry. You were mature enough and had known the boys long enough to understand their obligations. The fact that Harrison had a lastminute meeting with his agent and missed your dinner wasn't a problem. The problem was, he made you wait for over an hour and a half before notifying you. You wanted him to call you to let you know, or a simple text just after he knew for the meeting. You typed a short answer, shorter than this was impossible. "No". You rested your head against the headrest, turning your gaze to your best friend.

"Hey, he's a Netflix star now" you replied to his last words.

Your voice cracked on the last syllables and your eyes filled with tears. You weren't usually that emotional but the anguish and shame really took over you. Harry noticed, unsure of how to instantly respond to your distress. He would have liked to stop on an emergency lane to take you in his arms but he already had 2 penalties to pay, respectively for speeding and prohibited parking ... a third fine would not be really welcome. He simply placed his hand on your thigh, drawing circles on your pants to comfort you. He simply moved his hand to shift gears and instantly rested it on your leg whenever he had the chance. This gesture soothed you, enjoying the touch, grateful to have someone as your best friend to mop up your pain.

☙♡❧

Arriving at the apartment, no sign of Harrison. When you walked in the kitchen, you saw Tom sitting at the counter, scrolling his phone. He looked up at you, not directly noticing your annoyed expression.

"Wow..you're ... gorgeous. I love these pants on you"

You smiled, a little amused by the compliment. Of course he loved the pants, it was a gift from him. But your smile didn’t reach your eyes. With a look on your expression then on the clock, the actor understood that something went wrong. Harry was right behind and still no trace of Harrison. It was suspicious. Tom gave you a worried look.

"Do I have to ask…Never mind, I’m still going to ask. How was lunch with Harrison?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask him? Oh wait... right, he didn't show up" you said sarcastically although you could hear the hurt in your voice.

Tom frowned, biting the inside of his lower lip in annoyance. Harrison was his best mate since forever and he knew him so well. It seemed strange from Harrison to not show up. The blond has told him he was happy to see you again and walking through this whole awkward “feeling situation” because he didn’t want to lose you. In a quick movement, he rose from his stool to walk around the counter. The next second, he took you in his comforting arms and you finally let yourself go under the sight of the two Holland brothers.

“It seems like you need a break of all this shit” Tom said while he ran his fingers through your hair.

You let a little laugh escape through your tears. He wasn't wrong. You really needed to get away from this whole situation for a moment. But how? Harry watched the scene unsure of what to do. You were his best friend and it seemed like the solace you found was never in his arms. He had tried in the car, however, as best he could. He walked over to the counter to make you both a cup of tea. It seems that as cliché as it sounds, tea comforts you, as the English person you used to be. As the redhead waited patiently for the water to boil, a flash of genius - according to him - crossed the glare of his eyes.

“Why doen't she come with us to Spain?”

His brother's words seemed to suit Tom, who released his hold on you. You opened your eyes wide, not sure of what you had just heard. Go to Spain, with them? Once again, you knew you were going to argue on this proposition. The idea was not bad, Spain seemed a rather pleasant country. But you had just graduated and had a student job to save as much as possible. However, you could not afford to leave for several days in Spain, at the last minute. Plus, what were you going to do while Tom was filming and Harry was assisting him? He was sure the film's production crew wasn't going to give you a pass because Tom had decided.

“Yeah! That’s it, you’re coming with us”

“Tom, I have a student job. I can’t just…decide to go to Spain.”

“You never take a leave, come on. It’s not negotiable”

You were looking at Harry for help but he just shrugged. After all, he was the one who had initiated the idea of ​​including you on the trip. You were trying to find a valid excuse to stay home. You really didn't want to impose yourself.

“I can’t afford that” you said, trying your best to convince him to quit the idea.

“I don’t care, it’s not even a problem. You coming to Spain with us.”

"Omg, does Z dominate you in bed to make you so bossy in life?"

Harry almost spitted his tea and laughed out loud while Tom gave you shocked eyes with pinky cheeks. You had always been sassy but hanging out with the boys had made you even more sassy than ever. How many times haven't you heard Tuwaine or Harry make fun of Harrison or Tom on the sex subject? Being a girl seemed to make you an untouchable character. The boys had never teased you about your relationships or your sexual partners. And while you've always had feelings for Harrison, you've had your own experiences. Anyway, you had just gone with the flow and Tom's brand-new romantic relationship with his co-star gave you the perfect opportunity.

“That's not the point.” stammered the actor.

Your smile widened, proud of your joke and the way Tom reacted. You heard Harry clear his throat. He had his phone in his hand and his own smile didn't bode well for you.

"The production is okay but it's at Tom's expense."

“You got to be kidding me…”

☙♡❧

You ended up in Spain with two of your best friends. You knew you had limited time before Tom had to fly back to Los Angeles for some Spider-man: No Way Home reshoots. So, you enjoyed as much as possible: accompanying the boys to the golf course - even though you weren't very involved in the sport -, spending time to visit touristic places when they were on set, talking with Rachael and other people from the set. You really enjoyed your trip.

On Wednesday evening you went out to a restaurant with Tom, Harry and two other friends/tom’s colleagues. You couldn't deny that it was fun. You had the opportunity to sunbathe a little while walking through the streets of Madrid. Spain was doing you good and not once did you think about your wobbly friendship with Harrison. You've just left the restaurant when a few fans politely show up to take pictures with Tom. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of how kind Tom had always taken in a few snaps when his fans approached him respectfully - and there weren't too many of them -. You sighed with pleasure before stepping away from the group. You leaned against a wall and took out the packet of cigarettes that Tom had asked you to keep in your clutch bag. Being an occasional smoker, he wouldn't blame you if you took one from him. You tilted your head back to admire the dark starry night when you felt a presence by your side. You narrowed your eyes in mischief as you looked sideways: Harry was there, his nose wrinkled from your cigarette. He didn't like it too much Silence filled your bubble despite the hubbub outside. You were in public and it was not surprising to meet travelers and Madrid residents mingling with the crowd to enjoy this pleasant evening.

"I wish this trip never ends." You finally said, breaking the silence.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Instead, he was just looking at you. You were a little tanned, the Madrid sun had done wonders on you; your loose hair framed your face and the summer dress you had chosen for the restaurant looked great on you: It was a short red floral summer dress with a shingle collar. Light enough to keep you from suffocating but decent to wear on any casual occasion. You were beautiful, stunning. His heart exploded at the sight of you, so much that it hurt a few times.

"I wish I had been there for you more." he finally confessed

You finally turned your head towards him and shrug your shoulders, smiling shyly but sincerely.

“You were working, Baz”

“I meant…not only here in Spain. I’m sorry to have let you down recently”

You give him a confused look. He hadn't been a bad friend but he kept implying it. You just shook your head negatively to brush his words away. Harry had always been important to you. He had been the first to step towards you. It was him who introduced you to the rest of the gang. He had always been concerned about you.

The night you met, you immediately clicked up with him. And to be honest, for a moment, you thought he liked you that night. But he never took that step towards you and you never did either. You dreaded that if you kissed him, he would think you were interested in his notoriety by proxy. So you just acted like any reasonable person would - accept the status he gave you. And the second time he asked you to join him with his brother and his friends, you met Harrison and your heart exploded.

"I'm glad you brought me here"

“I'm happy you accepted to come.”

“I didn't really have the choice, Baz” you joked.

He laughed slightly. You weren't wrong, he and Tom had practically dragged you onto the plane, leaving you no choice to be by their side. But you could only thank them, especially Harry who had the idea. You took another hit on your cigarette before leaning back to check out where Tom was with his fans. He seemed to be talking with the girls and didn't seem overwhelmed. So, you didn't want to interrupt him and were just going to wait for him to finish. Harry played with his hands nervously, looking straight ahead and then at you. He seemed to be repeating this game for several seconds before finally asking the question that was in his mind.

“Have you heard from Harrison?” Harry asked quite casually

“He sent me several texts to apologize and wished me to have a good time in Madrid.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

You swallow hard before looking at him. There was an indecipherable glint in his eyes and you weren't sure what to make of it. You drew another puff from your cigarette, maybe that would save you from entering this conversation. But Harry's presence was all around you and you couldn't really escape. So you've decided to be honest.

“It’s complicated. I suppose so...”

“Mhmm”

“But my friendship with Haz is important, I don't want to lose him because of it.”

“Yeah, you can't imagine how well I understand you” he sighed

“What do you mean? Who’s the lucky girl..or guy ?”

Harry turned to you frankly and you did the same, stubbing out the half-smoked cigarette. You are well aware that the conversation was taking a more serious turn. He moistened his lips and walked over to you. Harry was full of things: he was full-loving, sarcastic, talented, daring, impertinent. But Harry was mostly awkward when it came to love. Not just an attraction, no, love with real feeling. Delicately, hesitantly, he reached out to your cheek, stroking it with the back of his fingers, cautiously. You were frozen, your eyes fixed on him admiring his audacity.

"She's the most beautiful girl I ever seen." he said with a small smile.

Harry walked over to you and your heart was pounding at breakneck speed. Harry had ... feelings for you? You were really confused. Since when had he developed his feelings? Why didn't he tell you about it? Why hadn't he tried anything so far? So, were you right from the start? Was there a tension between you since the beginning of your friendship, since your met? But above all, did you want him to take that step? Instinctively, your body responded. You parted your lips and closed your eyes. You enjoyed the warmth of his hand on your cheek and were waiting for the touch of his lips. But it never happened.

"Hey baz, y/n..we're going back to the hotel" Tom said, taking his eyes off his phone. "I…Mhmm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

[the-himawari]

A3! Tsukioka Tsumugi - Translation [SSR] MANKAI Memory (3/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Tsumugi’s grandma: We rushed to pick you up after that, but both of you looked so cheerful that it was hard to believe you were lost.

Tsumugi: It was all thanks to that officer and this plushie back then. This toy was also given to me by that policeman who said I could take it with me when I looked reluctant to part ways with it. And after, I admired that officer, so it was my dream to become a police officer for a period of time.

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Fufu, that’s right.

-pause-

Azuma: Happy birthday, Tsumugi.

Homare: Tsumugi-kun, happy birthday!

Tsumugi: Thank you very much.

Izumi: You were also able to take a great photo for the birthday bromide.

Option 1: “How was the photoshoot?”

Izumi: How was the photoshoot?

Tsumugi: It was really enjoyable. Thanks to you and Omi-kun, I was able to relax while getting my pictures taken.

Izumi: Omi-kun and Kazunari-kun took plenty of shots, but they said all of your expressions were so great, they weren’t sure which one to use.

Tsumugi: Ahaha, I’m happy to hear that. I’m able to smile naturally just being together and talking with Director and everyone else after all.

Izumi: Fufu, that’s true. I know how you feel.

Option 2: “There were all kinds of different accessories.”

Izumi: We brought them out from the storage room, but there were all kinds of different accessories.

Tsumugi: All of them brought back so many memories. They reminded me of all the things that happened during our shows and events. And when I saw the props I used in our plays, the feelings of my roles came flooding back. I got excited thinking about how I would like to play those roles again after such a long time, or how I’d love to do an etude again under those settings.

Izumi: That sounds great! You might come up with some new ideas by acting or doing etudes after so long.

Tsumugi: Right? I’ll invite everyone else another time.

Guy: Was this stuffed toy Tsukioka’s memento for the birthday bromide?

Tsumugi: Yes, that’s right.

Hisoka: That dog plushie is cute.

Azuma: Fufu. He’s dressed like a police officer too.

Tasuku: You’ve brought another nostalgic item, huh?

Homare: Did someone purchase that for you when you were young?

Tsumugi: No. Actually, Tasuku’s older brother Fuyuki-kun and I got ourselves lost in the past… And I got it from the police officer who took care of us back then.

Hisoka: So that’s what happened.

Tsumugi: Because of that, both Fuyuki and I dreamed of becoming police officers.

Guy: And then Takato’s older brother made that dream come true.

Tsumugi: Yes, Fuyuki-kun’s perfect as a policeman. Right, Tasuku?

Tasuku: …I mean, I guess so.

Hisoka: You might’ve became a police officer too, Tsumugi.

Tsumugi: Maybe so, huh? But my dream changed after that, and I came across something that I wanted to do even more: theatre. That’s why I’m here right now and acting with everyone in Winter troupe. Just thinking about acting every day—I've never been happier.

Hisoka: As expected of the theatre junkie.

Guy: I suppose that’s just like Tsukioka.

Tsumugi: Fufu, thank you very much. (…That policeman taught me what it feels like to want to do something with all my might back when I was a shy child.) (I wonder if the fact I was taught that sort of feeling when I was young has had a considerable influence on me, right now, who’s doing the things that I want to do…) Wait, now that think of it, why weren’t you with Fuyuki-kun when we got lost, Tasuku?

Tasuku: Ahh… after we realized you disappeared, my brother told me to go back to our parents and let them know. I had reached a point where I wouldn’t get lost anymore. The truth is, said I’d go too, but my brother stopped me.

Tsumugi: I see.

Tasuku: So I went back first, and my brother went to search for you by himself, stating he’d definitely find you. Thinking back now, it would’ve been better if both of us went back to talk to our parents together… but, you know, we were still kids.

Tsumugi: He acted that way so he wouldn’t make me or you feel worried. Fuyuki-kun was clearly an older brother even back then, huh?

Tasuku: …That’s true.

Tsumugi: But I remember. Tasuku and I cried a lot as soon as we saw each other afterwards, didn’t we?

Tasuku: No, you were the only one who cried their eyes out.

Azuma: So that means Tasuku also cried a little.

Homare: It must have been a touching reunion.

Tasuku: That’s not what I said.

Tsumugi: Hahaha.

---

previous |

[icequeenbae]

Daddy’s Struggles (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Dad!Baek, domestic au, established relationship (duh), a slice of life, fluff, a lil smutty(!)

Warnings: some friskiness between mom and dad if you know what I mean, mentions of teenagers watching porn (I’m not promoting it, you guys lol), also this gets fluffin’ sweet get a bucket in advance

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Baekhyun overhears your teenage daughter watching porn. You have to handle a small crisis.

Event: the BBH day @supermwritersnet​

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s Note: This… came out of nowhere:D I blame my dear beta @baekshoney​​ – we'd once discussed the idea of Baek being a teenager’s parent (in relation to a different story). Don’t we all love dilf Baek though? lol Anyways, this is a tiny glimpse into his future as a cute af father and husband <3 Let’s name him puppydad!Baek 😊 I hope this lifts your mood a little on a day like this!

On that note – happy birthday to our genius idol (aka mochi-cheeked hyperactive puppy), I wish that he stays healthy and happy and on the radar throughout the next 2 years (and forever)!! Don’t be too sad, guys, he’s hopefully going to finally lead a somewhat normal life for a bit 💞 Ok, I’ll let you get to it already~

A yawn.

You rubbed your tired eyes and dictated a reminder for tomorrow morning to your AI assistant. It was pretty late and you had your hands full all day with your kids. And while family time was always great, there hadn’t been a spare moment for you to tend to your own business. But two decades of dealing with your hyperactive yet loveable children (and husband) taught you to make the most out of what you got. So you were doing just that, organizing your errands and sorting important emails after everyone had scurried off to their rooms, and your husband — to the shower.

Baekhyun was quite exhausted himself, so you realized he must’ve gotten in the common bathroom by the time you exited the one in your bedroom. He did that sometimes when you locked the door out of habit. Not that he couldn’t come in, it was just… You used to scold him pretty badly for breaking into the bathroom. Picking locks wasn’t something you wanted your juniors to acquire as a habit. They had enough of their daddy’s traits as it was.

The thought made you chuckle. Your eldest son had already outgrown his father by at least five and a half – gotta be precise here! – centimeters (which made daddy very proud, but also a teeny tiny bit jealous). Despite his height, which, you were sure, was going to break the golden 180cm in the next few months, your boy’s build was exactly the same as Baekhyun’s. His shoulders were broad, his hips wide, and his waist was naturally narrow. Legs long and lean, and eyes always mischievous. He was eighteen and already seemed more like Baekhyun’s best friend rather than his child. Being both the hyung and the oppa of the household, he was the most mature out of the bunch, and always a big help to his parents.

Your middle child, your precious daughter, resembled you a lot. Her wavy hair and her big eyes with the longest eyelashes either of you’d ever witnessed. Seriously, that was the first thing Baekhyun’s friends had commented on when they came by to meet your new baby. ‘Is this even normal? Can she see through those? That’s one pretty baby!’ She was even prettier now, at her sweet sixteen, cheeks still a bit chubby, which – just as her button nose – were definitely an homage to her dad. Not to mention her hands that were even more delicate and exquisite than his.

The youngest, your six-year-old son, was a blessing. You weren’t planning to have more children after the first two until you suddenly thought… why not? Cannot say that you weren’t a little bit under the influence at the time. It was one of those rare weekends when your kids had a sleepover at their grandparents’, so you had the whole house to yourself. Deciding to have a domestic date and enjoy shameless daytime drinking, you indulged in a whole glass of wine before both of you were tipsy and giggling, then you added one more to the mix. At that point, all kinds of crazy things were brought up.

‘We should do this more often…’ You informed your partner. ‘This is exciting! We can walk around naked the way we used to before we had teenagers in the house!’

‘I miss our naked Saturdays…’ Baekhyun whined, almost spilling his wine while trying to sip it gracefully. ‘Now I barely even see you naked with your shower locking obsession!’

Pursing your lips, you dismissed his complaint.

‘After that incident… You cannot blame me for my caution.’

The incident was, well, your son needing to use the bathroom while his sister was taking too long and heading to the one in your bedroom. He nearly walked in on… an adult scene.

‘He didn’t even see anything, Y/N-ah,’ your husband grumbled, but you waved him off, downing your drink as if it was a shot of tequila rather than a glass of wine.

‘I don’t see a problem though,’ he blinked at you, not following. ‘We’re alone. Why not… See each other naked again?’

‘Right. We can also- Y/N-ah!’

‘What?’ You eyed his suddenly enthusiastic form with nothing but suspicion.

‘We can create a distraction!’

‘Hm?’

‘A distraction for them. So that they’d be busy with something else while we’re away.’

‘Hmm?’ You still couldn’t locate the source of his excitement.

‘Lemme show you,’ he slurred, tugging on your wrist to get you up and dragging you to the bedroom.

Let’s have another baby – that was his brilliant idea. Had you both not been such poor drinkers, one of you would’ve thought this through.

Nevertheless, you were glad that you didn’t. Because your little angel, who could sometimes be more of a tiny demon, to be frank, was the single sweetest thing to ever exist on planet Earth. He had his entire family wrapped around his little finger, and you – most of all. How could anyone blame you? That troublemaker was the spitting image of his dad and had a personality to match — just as playful and affectionate.

The chill spring breeze from the window licked at the bare skin of your arm, causing you to shiver slightly, coming back from the land of reminiscing. You stretched on the bed, noticing how protruding your nipples became from the cold even while hidden by the gentle fabric of your nightgown. Pulling the covers up, you grunted under your breath, wondering what was taking Baekhyun so long.

Just as you did, the door cracked open, and your husband sauntered into the room.

‘Ah finally, I thought I needed to go rescue you again,’ you chuckled.

That had happened before. He once used the common bathroom to shower before bed and ended up captured by your daughter, who was around six or seven at the time, in the hallway. She then demanded cuddles, knowing that her father was too weak to turn his precious girl down and send her back to bed. You found them both huddled up asleep on the couch, with your husband’s head tilted dangerously to the side. Terrible sleeping postures always had consequences, so you spared him the agony of the next morning, waking him up mercifully and helping to get your little girl to her bed. This was only one of many occasions – Baekhyun was a softie.

This time, however, he was a bit stupefied.

He didn’t react to your remark and seemed like he was going on autopilot when he came closer and sat on the bed.

You lifted the covers, inviting him to join you, and he followed your lead, still staring at the wall across the room.

‘Yeobo,’ you called, getting slightly alarmed. ‘Are you okay?’

He blinked, the stupor breaking, and looked at you with astounded eyes.

‘I- I think,’ he began, making you shift to face him properly. ‘I think I just overheard our daughter watching porn!’

His voice lowered to a whisper by the end of that sentence.

‘Oh my god,’ you whispered back. ‘How do you figure?’

‘I was walking down the hallway, and I thought I heard something from her room. I didn’t fully register what it was, but now that it processed… It was definitely porn!’

The signs of distress on his face almost caused you to break down in a fit of laughter. You held it in with all you got. Fathers and daughters, the eternal struggle.

‘First of all, ew. Aren’t you even a little bit ashamed to be eavesdropping on your kids like that?’ You didn’t let him protest. ‘Also, how do you even know it was porn, you know she sometimes mumbles and whimpers in her sleep. Like someone else we know…’

Giving him a pointed look, you leaned over his chest to turn the lights to the lowest mode, leaving the room dimly lit. It was always effective when you wanted to help him relax.

‘I wasn’t ea- And you think I can’t tell what porn sounds like? There are some generic… sounds. That give it away.’

‘When was the last time you watched it?’ You murmured, eyeing him curiously.

Of all people, you knew best how short his attention span was. Sometimes it could work to your advantage. Like right now, when you needed to de-escalate this before you could reason with him.

‘I- wh- I don’t know, probably when you were pregnant,’ he recalled. ‘The third one was somehow the toughest on me. You looked way too attractive for a heavily pregnant lady, let me tell you.’

‘Heavily pregnant??’ You scoffed, softening right after. ‘Well, you have a point, he was pretty huge. I swear, if he doesn’t grow up to be taller than Chanyeol, I’d be offended. That boy’s giant head prolonged my healing by at least a month.’

Baekhyun sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking back to that time.

‘He was the only one who caused you to tear, right?’

‘Yeah. Which is weird, considering that he was my third one. Ah well, I guess I’m not getting any younger…’

‘Aren’t you though? I’m constantly being asked about my pretty young wife,’ Baekhyun smiled at you charmingly. ‘And you only became prettier after the third pregnancy. I say it’s the hormones.’

Your cunning little plan was working. He was incredibly easy to distract.

‘Tell me the truth, was it the boobs? Or my butt? I did gain the most weight with the little daredevil, that’s for sure.’

‘It was all of you. You always looked so sexy when pregnant, I just wanted to have you all to myself,’ he cooed at you. ‘To feed you handpicked strawberries. And smother you with kisses. My beautiful young wife.’

At some point during this conversation, you shuffled closer to each other, now cuddled up snugly on the bed. Your finger slowly traced abstract patterns on his chest, happily exploiting the access to his skin where his pajama shirt was unbuttoned.

‘Ah, you’re just saying that to get under my nightgown,’ you batted your eyelashes at him, and he shook his head.

‘Maybe a little, but that’s true. And it’s not surprising that people are noticing – you are younger than me.’

‘A couple of years is nothing at our age,’ you murmured, bending your knee and moving your leg slightly up his to get cozy.

‘Well, you know what people say… Small kids make parents younger. Wanna have another one?’ He nudged you gently and laughed at the dirty look you gave him.

‘Yeobo- please don’t make jokes like this. I’d rather look for other elixirs of youth than go through that entire ordeal again.’

You knew that he was kidding, but the thought made you shiver.

‘I know, honey, I know. Like I said, you’re not in need of any elixirs.’

At this you relaxed, melting into his shoulder, and guiding his arm to wrap around you, warming your exposed shoulders.

‘Well, Mr Byun, same to you. Still as charming as two decades ago.’

‘Hey, I’d like to think that I’m more charming now. The experience and all.’

‘Who helped you gain all that experience though?’ You poked him lightly, and a low chesty laugh escaped his lips.

‘Of course, it was my one and only, my young, and beautiful, and smart and sexy little wife,’ he punctuated each compliment with a chaste kiss to your cheeks, nose, lips, and neck.

You squirmed in his arms.

‘Ah, you make a woman go mad,’ you purred into his lips mockingly.

He snickered softly, ready to lean in, but then stopped abruptly.

‘Wait a second- What about-’

‘Baekhyun…’ You murmured as he fussed on the bed.

‘I should probably go in there, and-’

‘And what? Embarrass your daughter?’ You held him down. ‘She’s sixteen, honey, it’s just the hormones. We’ve both been there. Let her be.’ You nuzzled his neck, pressing your lips to his sensitive skin lazily.

His mind was growing cloudy again since your hand was now caressing his inner thigh foxily. He’d probably realized what you were doing by now, but you were right, so he allowed you to sway him into giving the idea of an immediate intervention up.

‘Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t be nearly as appalled if that was our eldest,’ you scoffed and added in an exaggerated tone. ‘Never took you for a sexist.’

‘But- he’s eighteen, and she- she’s my little girl…’ He mumbled in a small voice, hazed further by your not-so-subtle seduction. ‘I can’t let her- watch that-’

‘Don’t worry, yeobo,’ you whispered soothingly in his ear, slipping your hand into his loose pants. ‘I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Without you. No need to traumatize the poor girl, that’s how daddy issues develop.’

‘You should know,’ he bit back meekly, sighing when you finally wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard length.

‘The sass! It’s almost like you still got it, Mr Byun. Care to impress that young wife of yours?’

‘I sure will, you cunning woman,’ he growled playfully, completely giving in to it and attacking your laughing mouth as he lifted the covers over your head.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As usual, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments/ asks, and if you’re new – check out my Masterlist ^^

[fridayfirefly]

Seeing Ghosts

Read Seeing Ghosts on AO3

Masterlist

For Maribat March Day 12 - Second Chance

For as long as she could remember, Marinette could see ghosts. It wasn't always the ghosts of strangers, though. Her ghost encounters started small. When Marinette was four years old, her parents told her that the family cat, Tikki, had left to live in the countryside. Marinette didn't understand, because Tikki still lived with them. Tikki still meowed for pets, still purred when Marinette pet her, still played with her favorite toy, the laser pointer that Marinette got for her last birthday. It wasn't until two weeks later, that Tom and Sabine sat Marinette down and explained to her that Tikki had died, that she needed to stop pretending that she was still there. Marinette was confused until she saw the way Tikki's paws batted right through her toys, the way she never ate the scraps that Marinette dropped on the floor. Marinette knew two things for sure: Tikki was dead and Marinette could still see her ghost.

For years and years, Tikki was the only ghost that Marinette saw. Then Marinette turned fourteen and Marinette could suddenly see.

They haunted the corners of her eyes, lurking in her periphery. They were just shadows, phantoms until Marinette focused her eyes, and then she could see them clear as day. Ghosts were real and Marinette could see them. Ghosts were real and they were everywhere, an inescapable reality for Marinette.

Quickly, the ghosts learned that Marinette could see them. They followed her around, lingering at the edge of her sight. She could hear them too, little whispers about the baker's daughter, the only person who could see them. However, none of the ghosts were bold enough to approach her. That was the status quo, until one day when Marinette came home from school one day to a ghost lurking in her room.

Marinette gasped as she saw the ghost sitting in the chair at her desk, staring at her with knowing blue eyes. He was her age, which made his brutal injuries all the more horrific to look at. His skull was caved in. His chest was mangled. His skin was shredded and burned. He had been beaten to death, tortured in his final moments.

"I've been told that you can see ghosts," the boy remarked, ignoring Marinette's shock entirely. He spoke in English instead of French, luckily Marinette's class had been learning both languages, so she was able to understand.

Marinette nodded, her throat suddenly unable to get a word out.

"You can hear ghosts, too. Can you bring them back to life?"

Marinette shook her head, clearing her throat as she began to speak in English, "I've never tried, but I don't think so."

"Could you try? For me?" pleaded the boy, the desperation in his expression breaking Marinette's heart.

"I don't even know you," said Marinette, trying to find a way to gently let the boy down. Seeing ghosts was one thing; bringing them back to life was another thing entirely.

"I'm Jason Todd." Jason stuck out his hand and Marinette tentatively shook it.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

It wasn't until Marinette pulled her hand back that she realized that his hand - and now her's - was covered in blood. With a shriek of surprise, Marinette stumbled backward away from Jason. "What did you do?"

"What did I do? What did you do?"

"This has never happened before. Somehow my touch turned you corporeal enough for the blood on your hand to transfer to mine."

Jason glanced down at his hands. "Your fingers left prints in the blood. I've spent hours trying to wash the blood away for months, and you managed to do it by accident."

Marinette stared at her hands, the realization sinking in. Jason Todd was dead and his blood was on her hands. In the blink of an eye, Marinette was running to the bathroom to throw up. She thought she would be able to handle looking at the injuries of the dead, but Jason's wounds suddenly felt personal. Someone beat him to death, beat him until his bones broke and his skull caved him. Marinette heaved into the toilet, unable to cope with the violence of Jason's death.

When Marinette finally lifted her head, she saw Jason lingering at the door, looking guilty. "I'm sorry. I know that this is pretty graphic to look at." Jason gestured towards himself.

Marinette shook her head. "You don't have to apologize." After rinsing her mouth out until the taste of vomit was gone, Marinette turned to Jason. "Come here."

Jason approached her at the sink. With the water still running, Marinette took his hands and held them underneath the water. They both watched as the water turned red, then pink, then ran clear as all of the blood washed off Jason's hands. "Thank you," Jason whispered.

Marinette took a deep breath. "I can't make any promises, but I will do my best to bring you back."

--

Bringing the ghost of a human boy back to life seemed like an impossible task, so Marinette started small: with Tikki the ghost cat. It took two weeks of experimentation before Marinette realized that with enough meditation she could funnel some of her energy into Tikki's ghost. With Jason to help her take notes, Marinette began to figure out the ins-and-outs of resurrection.

The most difficult part was figuring out exactly how much energy Marinette could expend before it took a toll on her physical health. The very first time she gave Tikki energy, Marinette woke up the next morning with bruises littering her body. Tom and Sabine took Marinette to the doctor's where she was diagnosed with anemia and prescribed iron supplements. Jason was so concerned about Marinette's well-being that he refused to let her give any more energy away before she had returned to her full health.

A few weeks after the initial mishap Marinette got back on track. Every morning she would push just a little bit of energy into Tikki. Little by little, Tikki turned from specter to physical being. Then, one morning, as Marinette pushed energy into Tikki, she felt her energy hit a wall. At the same time, Marinette felt Tikki's fur under her hand for the first time in ten years.

"You brought her back!" Jason exclaimed.

Marinette let out a whoop of joy, scaring Tikki, who jumped out of Marinette's lap with a startled meow. Marinette grabbed Tikki back up, able to properly hug her beloved pet for the first time in ten years. "I've got to go show Tikki to my parents. I'm going to tell them that I found her outside."

"You'll need to give her a new name," said Jason. "Might I suggest Alfred."

Tom and Sabine were surprised, which was to be expected. After all, it wasn't every day that their daughter found a doppelgänger of their dead cat in the alley behind the bakery. However, they were quick to rationalize the event, shrugging it off as a strange coincidence. Alfred became a beloved new member of the family.

After her success with Alfred neé Tikki, Marinette turned her attention to Jason. Their very first attempt took place in Marinette's bedroom. Marinette and Jason sat down cross-legged on the floor. Marinette placed her hands on top of Jason's and concentrated. She felt the life force within herself and pressed it forward, through her hands and into his.

"I can feel it," whispered Jason, "I've never felt anything like it before. It's so warm."

The awe in Jason's voice made Marinette feel warm inside as well. "I'm going to start with just a little bit of energy. I don't know how transferring energy to a human will differ from transferring energy to a cat, and I don't want to burn myself out on the very first transfer."

"Do this at whatever pace you need. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Marinette smiled with his reassurance. She took a deep breath, and let the energy flow out of her. When she finally finished, cutting off the flow, she looked back up at Jason and gasped. Jason's broken finger, which had bothered him for weeks, had straightened out. The cut on his collarbone had closed shut. The bruise on his cheekbone had faded. His wounds were already starting to heal.

--

Quickly, Marinette and Jason fell into a routine. Every day after school they would sit down in the back corner of the bakery and Marinette (under the guise of doing her homework) would push more of her life energy into him. It was a slow process. Though Marinette often wished to give Jason just a little more energy every day, to speed up the process, she was constantly aware of the fact that Jason would fuss over her and stop the transfer of energy entirely if he saw any sign of pain or exhaustion on her.

In the months that Marinette had known Jason, he had grown protective over her. Marinette spent most of her time with Jason. He slept in her room on the little couch in the corner, followed her to school, and wore the clothes that she designed for her. Jason changing his clothes was an incredibly embarrassing affair, as the only way for him to be corporeal enough to touch the clothes was for Marinette to be touching him while he did it, leading to averted eyes and blushing on the part of both Marinette and Jason (but it was worth it for Marinette, to saw Jason's relieved smile when he realized that he never had to see the blood-stained clothes that he died in again).

In total, it took eight months from the day that Marinette met Jason to the day that Marinette brought Jason back to life. It started as an uneventful morning. Marinette woke up to her alarm, grumbling as she got ready about how it was inhumane to make teenagers wake up so early. She made herself a coffee while chatting to Jason. They walked to school together, Marinette dodging through the crowded sidewalk while Jason moved straight through people with ease. Marinette got to her desk at school and took a seat next to Alya. Luckily the seat behind Marinette was empty, so Jason sat there when he followed Marinette to school.

Marinette had asked Jason before if it bothered him that he was unable to participate with the rest of the class since they could neither see nor hear him. Jason claimed that he didn't mind. Despite that, if Jason ever whispered comments or questions about the lesson into Marinette's ear, she always made sure to ask the teacher, even if she already knew the answer.

Sitting in on lessons had the additional benefit of teaching Jason French. Marinette did her best to teach him the basics, but immersion was the best teacher - after eight months of hearing and speaking only French, Jason was fluent in the language. Marinette often praised him for his quick learning, which was how she learned that Jason was prone to blushing when he was complimented. Jason always grumbled when Marinette pointed it out, but Marinette found it adorable.

Once school was over on that fateful day, Marinette and Jason walked home together. Marinette set her backpack down at her usual table, sat down, and got to work. It had become an easy routine: put in her headphones and play some calming music, find a quiet place within her brain, and focus on the feeling of energy welling up inside of her. Then take Jason's hands, concentrate on that energy, and push it through her arms and into him. Controlling the direction of the energy was easy - it was controlling the rate that was the difficult part. It moved slowly at first, then all at once it flowed faster than Marinette can control, and it was a race to slow it down before it could all drain out of her.

That day, however, just as the energy started to speed up, the flow of energy abruptly cut off before Marinette even had the chance to react.

"Why did it stop?" asked Jason, looking confused.

The day had been so long coming that Marinette could hardly believe what had happened. "I have nothing left to give you. You're alive again, Jason."

Jason stared at her, wide-eyed. "Are you sure?"

"I'll go test it." Marinette jumped out of her seat and raced towards the front of the bakery, heading for Tom, who was behind the counter. "Papa, can I get a plate of macaroons for me and my friend?"

Tom glanced over at Jason. "Who is he? I don't think I've ever seen him here before."

"He's a foreign exchange student," Marinette lied easily. "His name is Jason."

"Here's a plate for you and Jason." Tom handed her a plate, piled high with macaroons and other sweets.

"I might take Jason and show him around Paris, once we finish our homework. Is that alright?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Just make sure you're home before dinner."

"Of course," chirped Marinette. She made her way back to her table with a bounce in her step. "My papa could see you. You're real."

In that moment, Jason looked lost. He glanced down at his hands, flesh and blood once more. "What do I do now?"

"You're alive again. You can do whatever you want."

Jason took a deep breath. "I've been gone from this world for so long. I want to go home."

Marinette tried not to let the fact that her heart was breaking show on her face. "I have enough birthday money saved up to buy you a plane ticket. You might have trouble getting on a plane without any identification, but I'm sure we can come up with a solution."

For a moment, Jason looked upset. Then, Marinette saw on his face as a realization dawned on him. "I didn't mean alone. Marinette, I want you to come with me."

--

There was no sugar-coating it: Marinette's parents were going to kill her. The plane was half-way across the Atlantic Ocean and Marinette's phone was turned off. There was no way to check, but she was certain that her parents were already sending her frantic texts. By the time the plane landed in Gotham, Tom and Sabine would surely have already called the police.

Marinette could only hope that her and Jason's fake IDs would hold up against the Gotham Airport security officers. While seventeen-year-old Jason could easily pass for nineteen, the age listed on the fake ID for Jasper Townsend, Marinette was worried that she looked young enough to cause suspicion. The age on Marie Davis's ID needed to be eighteen in order to get Marinette onto the plane, so whether she liked it or not she had to look eighteen. Resigned to her lies, Marinette put on a heavy face of makeup and wore three-inch heels on the international flight. It was a little funny, in an ironic way, that her heels had one inch for each year she needed to make up for.

Marinette was still confused about how Jason managed to get them fake IDs in the first place. Jason just shrugged and said that he knew a guy who owed him a favor. It was a side of Jason that Marinette hadn't ever seen before, a side of him that she was deeply curious about.

They had gotten on the plane just as the sun was setting. Marinette had sent her parents one last text message, telling them that she might be a little late. It was the understatement of the century. Marinette had never lied to her parents like that before. All of her past lies had been little things - lying about the number of macaroons she ate, or how late she stayed up the night before - but never a lie about her personal safety. The guilt was killing Marinette. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

Jason placed his hand (flesh and blood) on Marinette's shoulder. "I'm sorry that I'm making you do this."

"I'm not sorry. I would never make you do it alone."

Marinette could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of Jason as their plane landed in Gotham. "I'm assuming you know where we're going next. Should we rent a car?" she asked once they cleared security (miraculously, no one looked too closely at Marinette's feeble attempt at a disguise. Marinette was glad to switch out her heels for flats and wash off the makeup in the airport bathroom).

Jason shook his head. "We don't need to rent one. He always keeps a car at the airport just in case someone's flying in."

Marinette wasn't sure who he was supposed to be, but Jason had been reticent to share any information about his past, and Marinette wasn't going to pressure him. Jason had been beaten to death, after all. There was a lot of trauma in his past and Marinette wasn't going to force him to share it with her until he was ready.

Jason led her through to the VIP parking lot to a luxury black sedan. He reached underneath the car, feeling at the underside until he pulled out a key. "Bruce keeps a key taped to the underside."

"That seems... irresponsible." Marinette was delicate with her words. Jason had been tense since the plane landed, like a loaded gun. She didn't want to bring up anything that might set him off.

"He also has a tracker planted in the car," Jason remarked offhandedly.

Marinette rolled her eyes at that remark, unable to keep walking on eggshells around the topic of Jason's family. "Irresponsible and paranoid. That's an interesting combination."

Jason laughed. "Just wait until you meet Bruce in person. I promise you, none of what I could tell you about him would ever live up to the real deal."

They got into the car, Jason in the driver's seat and Marinette in the passenger's. Jason's driving was a little rusty at first (which was understandable, given that he hadn't driven in nearly a year), but by the time he got on the highway, it was like he never left the driver's seat.

"Do you think that your family will believe you when you tell them that I brought you back to life?" asked Marinette, her voice quiet. The closer she and Jason got to Jason's house, the more questions Marinette had. It had taken her weeks to rationalize the fact that she could see ghosts, and she was the one seeing them. She couldn't imagine how Jason's family would react.

"Bruce was the one who found my body. There wasn't any faking that. I think he'll believe you."

"We've never talked about what happened to you. I- Is it safe for you to go home?"

Jason nodded, eyes on the road as he pulled off the highway onto a winding road. "Bruce did everything he could to save me, but he was too late. I was there for the funeral. I watched him mourn. I think... I think the reason I never passed on was because he never got over my death, never stopped feeling guilty. I wanted to pass on. I wanted to tell Bruce that I didn't blame him. I went and found you so that you could pass on the message for me. But then, when you could touch me, when you took the time to wash the blood off of my hands, I realized that I might be able to tell Bruce myself. I realized that I could have a second chance. I realized how badly I wanted a second chance, because a second chance at life meant that I had a chance with you."

Marinette blushed, looking over at Jason. "You know that doesn't matter to me. I wouldn't care if you were dead or alive."

With a snort of amusement, Jason said, "You might want to rephrase that."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. I liked you before you were corporeal. Human or ghost, you're my friend, Jason, and that's never going to change."

"I know that, but I like being alive better. I like being able to hold your hand for real."

Before Marinette could say anything in reply, the car turned. Marinette was too shocked to speak when she saw the size of the house at the end of the driveway. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette."

Marinette got out of the car first, smoothing down the fabric of her skirt and running her fingers through her hair. She hoped that she looked presentable, even if no one would be looking at her once they saw the resurrected Jason. "Are you coming?"

Jason nodded, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Yeah. I'm ready." Jason got out of the car and slipped his hand (flesh and blood) into Marinette's, and even though questions and doubts were swirling through Marinette's head in a whirlwind of anxiety, she knew that as long as she could hold Jason's hand, everything would be okay.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[itsallyscorner]

Ooooh can I do positions with Sebastian Stan???

Omg hi!!!🖤 Thank you sm for the request, I hope you like it!🥰

Thank you for the requests!! And thank you for the support love! I hope you enjoy this and my other requests (which I need to do soon)!🖤🥰 @its-izzys

💌.

positions

a/n: Decided to switch it up for this one and made the song about Seb’s feelings towards the reader:)

warnings: Some smut for you filthy animals😉

Heaven sent you to me

I'm just hopin’ I don't repeat history

It has been known that Sebastian has poor judgement in romantic partners. Now, that doesn’t apply to everyone he’s dated but there are a few who were just out of line. Everyone knew he wasn’t the best at relationships. His family, friends, heck even his fans could see through the facade of his so called “girlfriends”. He could never tell the difference between someone who’s using him and someone who genuinely liked him. Sebastian was one to be intoxicated with his feelings and loses himself in the moment. Which was probably why he never found anything wrong with the ‘candid’ paparazzi pictures or the constant posting of proof that someone was with him.

You were different from all the other girls he had dated. You were like Spring to his Winter. You symbolized a new beginning for him. Like how Spring would mark the beginning of a new season with its blossoming flowers and the awakening of animals, you brought liveliness to his cold and dark life. You actually terrified him to the core. He was afraid to fall for you because you were well off on your own. In his head you didn’t need him, but he needed you. You kept the grown man on his toes and without you he was not sure how he would survive.

Unlike the other girls, he was scared to loose you. Not only were you the most loyal, selfless, kindest, and caring person he knew. But he knew you genuinely loved him for him. He knew that you could care less about the fame, his social status, or the money. You wanted him for him. You wanted him at his worst, at his best, all parts of him. And it terrifies him that he could fuck it all up in an instant and loose you completely. If that happened he wouldn’t know what to do because he’s never experienced a love like yours. Compared to the others, he wasn’t going to repeat history and make stupid decisions, this time he was going to try and not fuck it up.

Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday

Then make a lotta love on a Monday (Ah, ah)

Never need no (No), no one else, babe

’Cause I'll be

Sebastian would do anything to make you happy. Seeing that contagious smile on your face always gave him butterflies in his stomach that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Hey Sebba?” You asked as you knocked on the wall of his home office one day. Sebastian’s eyes leave the script he had been reading for the past hour and a half as he turned to your figure leaning against the doorframe. You were cladded in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of those biker shorts that made your bum look incredible.

“How was your nap, draga?” He was about to get up from his swivel chair when you motioned for him to stay. You settled yourself onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Resting your cheek against his head you began to play with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

“It was good. Except someone wasn’t there when I woke up.” You softly answered as Sebastian pressed light kisses along your neck.

“The bed was cold without you.” You frowned against his hair. The scent of his shampoo filling up your senses.

“I’m sorry, I got excited when the script came and I couldn’t help myself.” He apologized as his squeezed your hips.

“Yeah, I know.” You chuckled as you leaned back to look down at him. He stared up at you with those ocean eyes that you just wanted to constantly dive into.

“Oh! I forgot to ask you.” You jumped in his lap as you remembered the text your mother had sent you earlier that morning. Sebastian nods at you, “What’s up?”

He saw how you slightly shrunk into your body and how your arms unwrapped around him so you can fiddle with your fingers. A little tic you had when you were either nervous or embarrassed. Sebastian comfortingly pressed his large warm hand against your back as the other took one of your hands into his.

“So...um. My mom’s birthday is during the weekend and we’re planning on having a dinner party with the family.” You started as you looked at your and Sebastian’s connected hands.

“My mom said she’d like it if you came along. She wants to finally meet you and she thinks the rest of the family would too.” You finished as you glanced up at him.

You were quick to tell him that it was his choice. You didn’t want to pressure him into suddenly meeting your family. Though it would be nice for him to finally meet everyone, you had to respect whether he was ready or not.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’d love to come!” He immediately agreed, a wide smile on his face that made the sides of his eyes crinkle. Your head snaps up to him in shock. You were expecting to find a playful glint in his eyes but it was nothing but sincerity and joy.

“Wait, you want to meet my family?”

“Of course I do, draga. It’s your family we’re talking about! They’re the most important people in your life and it’d be an honor to meet all of them.” He explained as he gripped both of your hands. Sebastian felt himself smile when he saw the corners of your lips raise to your cheeks.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Seb. Thank you!” You excitedly wrapped your arms around him again pulling him into a suffocating hug. You felt his chest vibrate against yours as he chuckled.

He hummed as he savored the feeling of your limbs wrapped around him and how elated he felt when you were around him. Wrapping his arms around your figure he mumbled into your ear, “Plus, I should finally thank your parents for creating the love of my life.”

Switchin' them positions for you

Cookin' in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom

I'm in the Olympics, way I'm jumpin' through hoops

Know my love infinite, nothin’ I wouldn’t do

That I won't do, switchin’ for you

The aroma of spices lingered around the house after the delicious dinner Seb had cooked. You guys decided to have an at home date night since the two of you weren’t in the mood to get all dressed up for a restaurant. Plus Sebastian had just gotten back from the airport after months on end of filming in Atlanta.

The two of you were now out on the balcony of your shared apartment sipping on glasses of wine. The two of you looked out towards the city as you leaned against Sebastian’s chest. There wasn’t much talking, just the sounds of the city and each other’s breathing.

“Thank you for dinner. Although, it should’ve been me cooking for you, because you literally just came back from filming.” You turn around in his arms as you admire the man in front of you.

“No, I wanted to cook for you. You’ve been so understanding with my job and the hectic schedules. Plus we had to be apart for so long, I owe you.” Sebastian explained as he moved a strand of hair from your face.

You shook your head at him, “You don’t owe me anything, Seb. You’re just doing your job and I understand that.”

“No, I do. I get that we had our night time calls and FaceTime sessions but it just isn’t the same as being in person with you.” He started.

“You’ve been so supportive and patient with me. While I’ve left you waiting here for so long.” He shook his head at himself before looking down at you. His blue eyes now dark with longing and lust. He leaned down to brush his nose against yours. His plush lips leaving a lingering kiss on your own.

“Let me take care of you, (y/n).”

Perfect, perfect

You're too good to be true (You're too good to be true)

But I get tired of runnin', fuck it

Now, I’m runnin' with you (With you)

Sebastian laid you down gently on the cool comforter of the bedroom. The atmosphere around you two felt heavy as your lips clashed together with desperation and passion. Though the months of not seeing each other were miserable, it began to all feel worth it when you felt his touch for the first time again.

Your hands roamed his body, only stopping when they were hovering over his sweatpants, where a bulge was starting to form. Sebastian pulled away from your lips and took your hand, placing it to rest along his shoulder.

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you, I just want to focus on you.” His voice was soft and quiet compared to the events that were about to go down between you two.

He gazed down at you for a moment before his palm came up to rest against your cheek. He latched his lips onto yours, nipping at your bottom lips to grant his tongue access into your mouth. Your tongues poked and licked against each other. The heat below you was getting hotter and hotter, making your heartbeat race and a thin layer of sweat to form on your body.

Sebastian moved on to kiss along your jaw and neck. He stopped at your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin until a mark began to form. He helped you take your shirt off, throwing it aside to land on the floor. He watched as your breasts bounced in your red lace bra as you landed on your back again. He sucked in his breath as he looked at you through hooded eyes.

“Take this off, Sebby.” You voice was low with sultry as your nails teasingly dragged on his abs. He yanked his shirt off and threw it to the side. He dived down to claim your lips again, his hands running down to grip your thighs and wrap them around his torso. He ground down on you causing you to softly moan as his clothed crotch pressed down on your mound.

His mouth teased your nipples through your bra. He grazed his teeth along the lace material before sucking on your clothed nipple. He repeated the same action on your other nipple. You pulled on his soft hair as you watched him concentrate on pleasuring you. Your nipples were now peaking against the lace, wanting to be freed from the material. One of his hands flatten on your back and fiddle with the bra until it comes undone. His warm tongue attaches to your breast as soon as they’re exposed, giving them both the attention they needed.

He helps you take your shorts off before removing his sweats. He shifts himself so he’s laying in between your legs with your soaking heat in front of him. You feel his breath against your core causing goosebumps to form on your arms and legs.

“Draga I could smell you all the way here. I’ve been making you wait for too long, huh?” His voice teased you with hints of dominance. He enjoyed the effects he had on you. The way you instantly opened your legs for him and how he was the only one who could make you dripping wet without even doing anything.

You nodded against the pillow and looked down at him. A smirk was on his lips as his nose swiped along your clothed slit. He pressed a searing kiss above your mound as his eyes remained connected to yours.

“Who made you this wet, baby?” He asked huskily against your heat. He felt you clench around nothing as he kissed the wet lace that covered your pussy.

“You did, Seb.” You breathed out.

“Damn right I did.” He pulled your panties off you, the cold air meeting your heat. His mouth was agape as he was met with your heat glistening with arousal. He moaned at the sight and stuffed his face between your thighs. You let out a moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

His tongue flattened against your folds until he found your bud. His mouth latched onto it, sucking and licking at your clit. You emitted a moan, your back arching, as his mouth helped release the tension that was building up in you. He hummed in approval as he brought his fingers to spread your wetness through your folds. His finger teased your entrance before it smoothly slipped in. Sebastian groaned as he felt you clench down on his finger. He moved his finger in and out until he felt you ease up around him. He added a second finger stretching you out a bit more. He made a come hither motion with his fingers as they rubbed against your walls. When his fingers began hitting a familiar spongy area, your toes curled as you hips rutted against him.

He wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you down. You were a mess above him. One of your hands gripping the sheets as the other pulled on his hair. Your head was thrown back, your hair sticking to your face as you moaned at the immense pleasure Sebastian was giving you.

“I can feel you. C’mon baby, cum on my fingers.” He rasped out before his tongue flicked rapidly at your bud. Your knees had came up to your chest as the tension in your body had reached a peak. With the harsh and fast movements from his tongue and fingers, you came with a loud choking moan as your body trembled above him. Your cum spilling all over his hand. Sebastian licked you clean as you came down from your high. He kissed your thighs before coming up to rest his forehead against yours.

“I missed the taste of you. Missed you so much.” He muttered as he licked his fingers. He left some of your cum on his fingers so you can have a taste of yourself. You sucked on his fingers until they were clean of your juice.

Sebastian pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as he lined himself up with you. One hand interlocked with yours while the other led his cock into your sensitive entrance.

“Te iubesc.” He said as he pushed himself into you. Your breath hitched as your walls hugged onto his length. You were filled with him to the brim. You felt the veins along his length and the weight of him in you.

“Si eu te iubesc.” You whimpered as he pushed even deeper into you. His eyes intensely locked onto yours as his hips rocked back and forth. His cock pushing in and out of you. He was dizzy with the feeling of you around him. You were like a drug and he was addicted to you. Everything about you was perfect. He fit into you like a puzzle piece, like you were meant for him, and he didn’t need anyone else. Just you.

This some shit that I usually don't do (Yeah)

But for you, I kinda, kinda want to (Mmm)

'Cause you're down for me and I'm down too

Sebastian would do anything for you. If he could, he would take you around the world to show you new places that you’ve been dreaming of visiting. He wasn’t afraid to show you off. Of course, he was private when it came to your relationship, but when he had the chance to show you off he always took it. He was proud to take you to premieres and introduce you to his friends and co-stars. Everyone could see how deeply in love he was with you. They’ve never seen him so entranced with someone. From the way he looked at you to how his hand was always protectively on you.

Sebastian thanked his lucky stars as he watched you lean against the balcony railing of the hotel you two were staying at in Paris. You were watching the city below you as the wind blew against your hair. The sun shined on you enhancing your natural glow. You looked so relaxed and carefree as if you’ve never had experience a day of stress in your life. He saw a small smile on your face as your fingers skimmed the rail.

You turned around to see Sebastian sitting on a chair inside the bedroom. He was staring at you, a dreamy look on his face. You smiled at him and giggled.

“Get over here and look at the city with me.” You motioned for him to come over as you held your hand out for him. He got up and took your hand, bringing it up to press a kiss on your knuckles. You turned around to lean against his chest as his buff arms wrapped around your figure. His head rested on your shoulder, pressing kisses against the bare skin every few minutes.

He could stay there for eternity. You in his arms as you both silently watched the hues of pink, purple, and orange take over the sky in Paris. You were all he needed, it didn’t matter where he was, he just needed to have you with him.

draga ~ darling

te iubesc ~ I love you

si eu te iubesc ~ I love you too 

[fluffi]

MY DETENTION BUDDY :: JAY

pairing: jay x gn!reader genre: fluff, badboy!jay, highschool!au, friends-enemies-lovers!au word count: 2k event: for @lovesick-net​​ and (early) jay day 200421 <3 author’s note: simple little one-shot for jay’s birthday (i wont be uploading anything for his actual birthday). i had to speedrun this fic because i kept changing the plot and this hasnt been proofread twice (unlike my other fics) T-T i hope it’ll still work out. warnings: (reader makes one bad decision)

Ring...ring...ring...ring..ring…

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring

Ringringringringiringringringring.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRRI-SLAM!

The alarm clock stopped its boisterous wailing

10 more minutes. I don’t have to style my hair today.

Thirty minutes passed.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRI- SLAM!

Ugh. I’ll just miss assembly.

RIRIRIIRRIRIRI-

This time, the ringing stopped before he could slam his hand over the alarm clock.

“Jongseong, do you not have school today?” Jay could only make out a bush of black that stood above him as he sat up, dazed and drowsy.

“Yeah, I do. I’m about to get ready. Why?”

“It’s 9 am! You should be at school! At this point, you don’t even have to go anymore.” His mother huffed in disappointment.

It was an exaggeration, but she had a point. School started at eight in the morning. It was already an hour later but he was still sitting in bed.

“I’ll get ready now. 10 minutes. Good to go.” He shooed his mom away, already running to the bathroom to wash up.

“I’m leaving now Jay. You know darn well that I have an important meeting today and I can’t miss it just for you to not get a tardy. Heck, you’re already late! You’re-”

“Mom! I can’t walk to school! It takes too long.” Jay whined as he brushed his teeth, his muffled voice interrupting his mother’s speech.

“Young man, stop interrupting me. I told you a week ago about today’s event and it’s not my fault that my oldest son can’t take care of himself. You’re going to have to take another mode of transport, you’re old enough to deal with this yourself!” With that, his mother stormed out of his room, her feet obnoxiously thumping on the floor.

“I’m also your only son...” Jay muttered. 

Of all days, why did she have to have her meeting today? Monthly evaluations aren’t that important. Dangit, I should’ve been taught how to drive. Jay returned to his rapid multitasking, grabbing his school uniform while washing his face. He didn’t even look twice,

After taking the quickest shower he had ever taken in his entire life and shoving all of his essential (what he determined as essential, at least) belongings into his bag, he opened to door and dashed outside only to be met with…

Rain.

Rain everywhere. Drenching the front yard’s perfectly tended flower garden and creating heaps of watery mud. It was pouring at 9.15 am. There was thunder and occasional flashes of light zooming through the clouds. The city was in shambles.

Not like, shamble, shambles. It was shambles in Jay’s opinion as he groaned and stomped his way through the rain.

Screw school. Screw this stupid rain, screw my alarm clock, screw this-

“Dude, why are you running in the rain? You’re soaked. Are you heading to school?” A pink-haired boy in a red Ferrari shouted from across the street.

Jay sighed in relief, immediately running across the road to said Ferrari. “Choi Yeonjun. You are a life-saver. Could I get a ride real quick? I’ll pay back for engine fees and for soaking the inside of your Ferrari with rainwater.”

“Hop right in, and don’t worry about returning. Let’s have some fun with this baby.” Yeonjun smirked and revved the engine, swerving past cars and buildings like it was a little RPG game.

At this rate, I’ll make it to school in no time.

“Dude, I’m so sorry. I guess you have to walk.”

Just as he thought things were taking a better turn, Yeonjun decides to show off his new driving skills and zooms through roads at a rapid speed, so fast that he crashed the car by a tree. It was a miracle that both of them didn’t get hurt but as far as Jay was concerned, he could worry about that some other time. This was just slowing him down on his long and tedious journey towards his form of hell.

On the bright side, the rain had stopped and the sunshine was back as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll get going to school.” Jay internally groaned and started sprinting in the direction of his school.

“Hey, at least I helped you get closer to school! Didn’t I?” Yeonjun shouted from behind and coyly smiled.

Such a boastful punk, Jay thought. “Whatever, bro!” He turned back and gave his older friend a quick wave before dashing off.

“Park Jongseong! You’re late...again.”

“I’m aware.” Jay didn’t spare his English teacher an eye and slung his backpack over the chair, about to take a seat.

“Stop giving me attitude, I’m your teacher.Why are you tardy for the fourth time this month?”

“Alarm clock.”

“Alarm clock what? Are you afraid to speak up? I don’t see you acting like this in the hallways.”

Jay looked down at his feet and sighed before side-eyeing his teacher. “Overslept, okay? Sir if you could just let me off the hook you would be able to proceed with your Shakespeare nonsense.”

The entire class snickered. It was no secret that Jay loathed Mr. Jung, the English teacher. Who didn’t? Mr. Jung treated every student in school like they were incapable toddlers and it was a wonder that anyone would dare to stand up to his stupid remarks. Jay’s carefree attitude towards his horrible teachers was one of the reasons why he earned so many fangirls.

Not like you were one, of course. You watched as he pulled his chair out and sat next to you out of the three other vacant seats at the back of the class.

Mr. Jung rolled his eyes and continued writing on the blackboard. “Also, Jongseong,” he added, “you’re wearing your school shirt the wrong way round. See you in detention for your tardiness.”

A few of the girls in a few seats in front of him whispered rapidly, although whispering didn’t stop Jay from finding out about their gossip.

“Lol! So much for being the bad boy of our grade. He looks like a wreck today.”

“I know right? I wonder what the other fangirls will think of this. Should we send the pictures to the fan club?”

The second girl giggled. “Yeah, duh. Name it jay-park-wreck-images.”

So much for my reputation. Jay could only roll his eyes as he pulled out his supplies, ignoring the camera clicks coming from the seats in front of him.

“Oh, yay. At least I’ll have a detention buddy now.”

Jay eyed you up and down like your statement was some sort of monstrosity. “Detention? You, detention? Pfft.” He laughed.

“Yeah, Jay. Me, detention. Why are you so happy about it? Glad to be stuck with another girl?”

“What, no-no. You just...don’t seem like the type to be in detention. How’d you get it?”

“This..may be kind of embarrassing, but...” You turned to the side and Jay gasped.

On the sleeve of your uniform was a...rabbit? It wasn’t too obvious as to what the marker doodle was but it was apparent that you had intentionally spent time to draw on it.

“Look, I was bored in assembly this morning and found a spare marker in my pocket! Don’t judge, we all know how bad assembly can be.” You blurted just as Jay was about to ask why you had done what you did.

“You could’ve just drawn on your hand or done something else with the marker.” Jay sighed and shook his head at your dumb decision.

“I was out of my mind, okay? Ugh, Assembly always drives me nuts. I got called out for for the horrendous ink bleed when Mr. Jung saw as I walked into the classroom. He said it ‘didn’t follow school guidelines’.”

“For once, I agree with Mr. Jung. It was a stupid choice, you know? If you didn’t draw on your uniform then you wouldn’t have to go to detention now.”

“Jay Park, the bad boy of school, is telling me to be a rule abider. Biggest twist of the century.” You rolled your eyes.

Jay frowned and turned back at you, losing that little spark in his eyes that he once kept. “I’m not a bad boy you know? I just don’t like the system in place here.”

“As if anyone is going to believe that. Go hang out with another girl of yours. I’m not here to be your toy.”

“People like you are the reason why everyone thinks I’m a bad person. I thought you were different, you know?”

You had been preoccupied with taking notes for class, but now you looked at him with squinted eyes. “Well, I am different. Different as In someone who doesn’t fall for your useless charms. Go suck up to your fangirls or something.”

Jay rolled his eyes and scooted away from you. He thought he had been lucky to meet you, but he guessed not.

You always do this, you idiot. You were so close to making a new friend.

You put your hands in your head and side-eyed Jay, who seemed to be struggling as Mr. Jung blurted out an entire unit’s summary.

The boy hadn’t brought any stationery and was definitely on the wrong page of the textbook. You figured that he was this disheveled from his absolute lack of planning but you still felt bad.

His hair was a mess, it was still damp from the rain before. If only you could help him style it…

Why do I want to touch his hair? That’s weird and gross.

You were so occupied with thinking about Jay that you realized that he was still struggling in class.

Maybe you could make things better.

“I’m sorry.”

Jay was struggling to find the page you guys were on for class when a pencil blocked his view.

“What do you want?” He said as he tried to look past your pencil swinging.

“It’s a pencil for you since I realized that your table is practically empty and you’re going to need something to take notes with for later. Also, it’s page 153, not 53.” You leaned over to help him flip the pages.

“Oh, that makes so much more sense. I was wondering why we were relearning unit 3 when finals aren’t even near yet.”

You raised your eyebrows, looking up at a relieved Jay. “So you do pay attention in class.”

“Of course I do! I’m a student. You should stop using that stereotype on me.” Jay frowned and a tinge of disappointment shadowed his face.

“Right, I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to work on it, it’s rumors and assumptions that have built up over the past few years and I understand that it shouldn’t get in the way of our friendship.”

“Friendship? We have a friendship?” Jay chuckled and cocked an eyebrow up, teasing you.

Maybe it was that eyebrow slit or the weird tension that was building up between the both of you. You felt your face heat up. “I mean- yeah, friendship. Are we not friends?”

“I don’t know, hun. I thought we were something more.”

“Um...best...friends?”

It was perfect timing as the bell rang and you immediately started packing things into your bag, eyes glued to the clock instead of the amused boy next to you.

Jay laughed, running his hands through his blonde locks and watching as you started running out of class, your eyes occasionally looking back at him to see if he was still staring at you.

“See you in detention!” He called, drawing the attention of your classmates.

Jay Park needs to learn how to shut his mouth. Everyone was now staring at you and you were flustered, embarrassed, shocked, and confused. The weird mix of emotions were driving you nuts. All you could muster was a little nod and you dashed out of there as fast as you could.

“Today we’re going to learn about Murphy’s Law. It is where anything that can go wrong will go wrong.”

“But everything that can work, will work.” Jay raised his hand and added, sparing a glance at you jotting notes in the back of the classroom, oblivious to his reference towards you.

“You’re right Jay. Murphy’s Law works both ways. Reversing it is considered part of science…”

Today morning was a storm (figuratively and literally) and everything seemed to be going wrong for Jay. Murphy’s Law prevails. but there’s always a rainbow after the storm. You were his rainbow and his lucky charm.

2021 © fluffi

[bequeerdodopemonkshit]

23 and Me Revealed A Family Secret

Some content warnings, This story will probably contain mentions of drug use, trauma, and abuse (it turns out it was just brief little mentions and nothing in detail). But it has a happy ending. I promise.

the tl;dr version is that I took a DNA test and found out the man I thought was my biological father for 35 years was not my bio dad.

Sup, Internet.

This is a story that people always want me to go deeper into when the subject of DNA tests is brought up and I mention this little tidbit.

So I'll give a truncated version of events, which is still pretty long

I didn't meet my dad until I was 30. And when I met him, I was able to get a more complete version of the circumstances that led to my birth.

My mom was sorta seeing two guys at the time. One seriously, who happens to be the worst human on the planet. And my dad, who was married but separated with an infant son.

I was born and my mom told the docs that I'm the worst guy's kid. I had his last name for a while. He's still listed as my father on my birth certificate. However, my mom also tells both men that they are the dad. One of them is because she's locked into an abusive cycle that she can't get out of. And the other is because she genuinely believes that is my biological father.

That being said, she did also tell both men at one point that they were not my father. But for the worst of them it was confirmed when I was 12 via a blood test.

I grew up hearing stories about my dad. That he was a good person though a little weird. Like me, my sister would say. But we didn't know each other.

And then he found me on Facebook. And I went out to meet him on my 30th birthday. And we are very similar. Because believe me, I was looking for anything that would link me to this dude after a lifetime of not really fitting in with my siblings who both bear an uncanny resemblance to our mother.

Well me and my dad both take our coffee the same (lots of cream, and lots of sugar), we both have an odd sense of humor, our alignment for both of us is chaotic stupid, and we both have a thing for emotionally unavailable women who give off the vibe that they may leave us hollowed out husks of people should they ever leave.

In short, I really believe I was a lost daughter who finally found her dad.

Sidenote: There's a story about my dad and me. I was a baby. I was sick and stuffed up, having some trouble breathing through my nose. They forgot that thing that helps clear a baby's nose. So my dad sucked the snot out of my nose and then spit it out and yelled out...

And when I told him this story he made this face...

Anyway, cut to a few years later. And I'm thinking of changing my name to something that better suits my gender identity and also gets rid of the names that my mom gave to me when she was trying to convince herself I was someone else's kid.

So I approach each of my parents but for different reasons.

With my dad, I wanted to know what he wanted to name if he had gotten the chance. Well, he says he always wanted my middle name to be Nicole. So we could be Nikki and Ricky. So my nickname came before my actual name. (Which is another cute story about how my little brother named me) And I wanted to get his blessing to take his last name. Which he granted.

With my mom, I wanted to know if she was positive beyond a reasonable doubt that my dad was actually my bio dad before I did this. She said she was quote "1000% sure" that my dad was my bio dad. (Which as someone who grew up watching Maury on my sick days from school, should have made me suspicious but it's my mom and I love my mom and honestly you'll see why she answered this way, later).

So I went with the name change. I went with Nikko, which is the name of a city in Japan as a first name. My father's last name. And took my grandmother's maiden name as a middle name.

Cut to my elder brother, my dad's son, getting an Ancestry.com test. He found out some things and shared it with me. I found out that my dad's family came to PR in the 1850s from Valencia, Spain. And it made me interested in taking a DNA test as well. But I didn't want to take it with the same service my brother took it, because I didn't want to find out and I quote "That my dad is not my dad from the fucking internet."

**their last words...

Well, fast forward to me choosing 23 and Me instead. I got my kit, spit into a tube, sent it off, and two weeks later I got my results.

22% African (Mostly West African) 23% Asian and Pacific Islander (Mostly Japanese) 42% European (Mostly Spanish from the Canary Islands) 6% Indigenous American

So outside of it not saying Southeast Spain this pretty much tracked with what I knew. However... there was something that stood out. There was a section telling me that my Caribbean ancestry was out of two places. Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic. Which was weird. As far as I knew, my dad is 100% Puerto Rican.

But this still wasn't a smoking gun.

That would come when I looked at my "close relatives". There were a few 3rd cousins, a lot of 5th cousins. But there was only one really close relative.

And it said:

Some guy who wasn't my dad's name. Identical DNA: 50% Possible Match: Father

I had my platonic life mate (one of them) study these results to make sure I reading this correctly. And she was like...

So I called my mom first just to get some insight.

Me: Mom, so my DNA came back.

Mom: Oh, really? What did it say?

Me: Well, it said a lot of things and it was surprising.

Mom: Like what?

Me: Well, first it says that I'm 42% European.

Mom: So you're like almost half-white.

Me: No. That's not how that works. But that's not the most surprising.

Mom: Ok. What else was surprising?

Me: It said that my dad is not my dad. It says that it's some dude named {redacted}.

Mom: What? I have never meet anyone named that. That doesn't even sound like a real name. Are you sure you're reading it right?

Me: Mom, it says I share 50% identical DNA with this man. I'm pretty sure that means he is in fact my bio father.

Mom: I... I... I have to let you go. We'll talk later. Don't read too much into this. 23 and Me is lying. Ok, bye. (Hangs up)

Ok so Mom was not helpful. So I call up my brother. He's younger than me so I don't know what I expecting but the convo went like this.

Me: Hey brother. So my DNA results came back.

Bro: Oh, word?

Me: Yup. (I tell him the results)

Bro: 42% European? So you're basically half white?

Me: I'm half Hispanic. Specifically Puerto Rican and Dominican.

Bro: Dominican? But I thought your dad was like my dad, 100% Puerto Rican.

Me: Which brings me to why I called, turns out, he's not my dad.

Bro: Oh shit. You talk to Mom?

Me: She was the first person I called.

Bro: What did she say?

Me: That I was reading the results wrong and she doesn't remember anyone by that name.

Bro: Well, Mom was on a lot of drugs at that time. But I'll try and talk to her and calm her down.

Me: Thanks. I love you.

Bro: Love you too.

My brother helped me calm down enough to call my sister who was actually old enough to know a lot of what happened around the time I was born. So I call her.

Me: Hey sister. I got my DNA results back.

Sis: Oh? What did it say?

Me: (I tell her)

Sis: So we were right. You have been secretly white this whole time.

Me: Why is that what everyone says? Mom and Brother said the same thing. Just about. But also super not the point of this phone call. I'm calling you to say that it also said that my dad is not my dad.

Sis: ...

Me: ...

Sis: So who is your dad?

Me: Some guy named {redacted}. But Mom says that she doesn't remember him.

Sis: She should fucking remember him. He came around during that wild weekend she had. And he's the one who got to hang out on Friday and Sunday.

Me: Well, on one of those days, I was conceived.

Sis: Damn, Sister.

Me: Yeah, it would have been better if you had been right about me being half alien instead.

Sis: ...

Me: ...

Sis: Ok, so looking back on it and considering this new information, telling you that for your whole life was pretty mean and I'm sorry.

We hang up and I'm just sitting there surrounded by burning wreckage of my family history like...

I talked to my dad later, and he told me to leave it alone. Like he basically said,

"You have my last name. You're my child. Leave this alone."

But I couldn't do that.

And so I emailed this guy who I share 50% of my DNA with and hoped that he wasn't an asshole.

Our text exchanges on the 23 and Me site went something like...

Me: Hi, I'm Nikko and I just took a DNA test and it came up that you might be my biological father. I understand if you don't want to reach back out but I was just wondering if you knew a woman named {redacted} around September of 1984?

Him: Yeah. I worked with her on {the same Marine base my dad was also stationed at because my mom likes to live dangerously.} But you're my child? Really?

Me: I think so? That's what the DNA results say.

Him: That's so cool! I always wanted to have kids but my wife didn't. So we never had any. When's your birthday?

Me: (I tell him)

Him: Really? We have the same birthday! That's amazing. Can I call you? I just want to talk.

And so we did. I found out that I'm grandparents only grandchild. I have a bio aunt who is dope as fuck. And I have a cousin who was blacklisted from holding down a job in PR for being too radical.

Each thing he told me, I could connect to myself or find some kind of comfort in.

I'm the middle child on my mom's side and it was easy for me to get lost in the shuffle. Suddenly I had all of this attention from my other side of the family and it was all mine. And I didn't have to share it.

I, like my titi, am also a dope as fuck auntie. And like my cousin, I've been banned from certain places for having too radically left politics.

And most importantly, I had another dad. Well, I had a dad already and now I had a papi too. One who loves me as much as the man I now refer to as my Soul Dad.

And even my mom eventually came around. She wrote me a long letter explaining her side of things. How she had been really lost when I was born, how she tried to make people love her by making herself physically available. All things I could understand. She didn't continue the conversation with me because she was afraid that I was judging her. But I wasn't. I love my mom. And although at the age of 35 I found I was the result of my mom's dirty 30 birthday celebration that lasted a whole damn week and involved at least four dudes, I didn't judge her for that. I didn't even judge her for deciding to keep me.

I have three good parents out of this whole deal. So...

[os-hyoideum]

the wh*res are fighting 19 (one-shot)

Part 19: THE DATE

Previous - here - Next

masterlist

(this, perhaps, can be read seperately, so if you you wanna check it out, but nit the SMAU, then go on 😉)

a/n: Ok, it took me a long time, but I had a lot of uni work and it's also almost 5k words 🙃 Like, I can pull the standard SMAU texts out of my ass in an hour sometimes, but this? Nah-ah, I like writing, but I'm mostly slow. (but I will write out the ending too) Since the format is different, I'm putting content warnings on this (outside of the ones on the matserlist). Again, it's an AU so I will write Touya as bitchy or soft as I please, and I take no criticism for it 💅 (now watch me destroy them after some nice time - if you see this no you don't)

THE SHOT IS UNDER THE CAT

WORDCOUNT: 4878

CONTENT: hero!AU (Dabi/Touya is a hero), OOC, Y/N is awkward at feelings (cringe), lack of safety equipment (sledgehammers), romantic arson (just a bit), cursing, tatted up/pierced Touya, Touya rides motorcycle

I really hope you gonna enjoy it, cause I enjoyed writing it and I think it's alright!

You looked up from your phone to see the place where you were to meet Touya. As a first part of his date plan, he invited you to a small café that looked almost like a bookshop from outside. On the windows hung colorful fairy lights (although turned off, due to it being bright outside) and some handmade paper decorations. It truly was a nice place, but quite an unusual choice, considering it was Touya who chose it; a bit too wholesome perhaps, but who were you to judge.

After making sure that the address you arrived at was the correct one, you stopped under a tree to get some shade from the warm sun rays. You started to look around, seeing people, some of them in a rush, some enjoying the nice weather, while leisurely walking to their mysterious destinations. Unfortunately, one face was oddly familiar. Standing on the opposite side of the road was an ordinary looking man in dark clothing. Looking straight into your eyes, he moved towards the crosswalk and, in a very relaxed manner, directed his steps towards you. 

You tensed up, ready for anything. It wasn't a good omen to see him right there, right now. He was sent there as a warning and it was apparent in his intense gaze and every little calculated move. Also, because you knew how the gods' machine works. 

After barely a few seconds, the unnamed man stopped right in front of you, leaving precisely one and a half meter of space between your bodies. Perfectly straight back, relaxed face features, hands in sight. It didn't seem as though he was there to attack or cause trouble (any bigger than his presence alone already was), but you knew better than to let your guard down. Staring him down, you waited patiently for his words.

“Hello, number Four,” he said with a slight underline of contempt in his voice.

“What do you want?” You looked around to check if any unwanted attention was on you two. It wasn’t really necessary considering both of you looked like ordinary civilians, but, at the end of the day, it’s better to be aware of one’s surroundings.

The man shifted his weight slightly, taking half a step closer.

“You know your little paradise won’t last long.” He exclaimed and smiled cynically. “Or have you, perhaps, forgotten?”

“Fuck off.” With a cold voice and a cold gaze, you ended the short exchange. The man did not move, however. He stood, still with an annoyingly straight back, in front of you and looked both harmless and ready to leap at you, had he deemed it necessary.

The stare off was short lived. A few seconds later you felt a presence coming from behind you and the man was pushed away by Touya, who came just in time to hear the end of your conversation. He looked a bit concerned, but stared at the mysterious person with a hard gaze and little bit of blue flame coming from the corners of his mouth.

“She told you to fuck off, so go and scurry away.”

Unbothered, the man didn’t pay any attention to this sudden event. He seemed even amused by it to some extent.

“I see you got yourself-” he glanced quickly towards Touya, who stood right next to you “a dog.”

Already annoyed before by the sheer presence of this man, now you felt your blood boil. WIthout thinking much, you leapt towards him and harshly grabbed the collar of his shirt. You heard someone close-by whisper with a scared voice, but you paid no mind to it.

“Fuck. Off.” You started, accentuating the words and putting as much venom into them, as you could muster. “Go and crawl at their feet like the pathetic nobody that you are.”

You saw a change in his eyes. No longer emotionless, he seemed irritated, which filled you with a bit of sadistic pride. He forcefully pulled your hands away and shoved you back. Then brushed his shirt like nothing happened and, just before turning around and going away said:

“You are the same. Everyone who touches the Olymp is.”

Finally alone with your still-just-a-friend, you turned around to face him. Having brushed off the encounter, you smiled at Touya, first a little fake, but seeing him made you happy enough to be genuine after just barely a second. On the other hand though, he still seemed rather concerned with the strange turn of events. 

“Who was that?”

“He’s a colleague... from work.” Your answer didn’t lessen Touya’s worry. His brows furrowed, while he decided to press a bit more.

“From work? He’s… a hero?”

You stood right in front of him and lifted your arm, putting the thumb between his brows, watching him relax slightly, as you caressed the crease in his skin.

“From before.” It was a diplomatic answer, both a lie and a truth. You knew Touya wasn’t stupid and would get to the truth sooner or later, but for now he seemed to let it go, so you changed the topic. “So, I must ask. Why… a cafe? I would be more inclined to think you’d take me to a boxing ring or something.”

Touya smiled at your teasing tone, but did not answer. He just turned around and started walking towards the entrance of the place. He stopped and held the door for you, still standing next to the tree, a few meters away. 

“You coming?”

You looked at him unamused by his lack of answer, but went inside. It was pretty and cozy, which didn’t match with his more edgy vibe, but you just brushed it off and sat down on a plush armchair in the corner. You put your elbows on the table and propped your head on your palms, looking as Touya took his jacket off and threw it on the back of his chair. You started to closely admire the tattoos adorning both of his arms, from the hands to his shoulders (and even further, as you already knew).

“Both your tattoo and hand kink are showing, baby.” 

He sat down and looked at you with a teasing glint in his beautiful eyes. You leaned back, crossed one of your legs over the other and put your arms up, in a gesture of surrender, but then looked at him accusingly. 

“That’s not my fault that you’re a harlot. You’re basically putting yourself on display for me, so really, it’s on you. You whore.” 

“You got me, but it’s only for you.”

Touya laughed then and stood up to buy you both a coffee. You sat still, waiting and looking around. When your eyes landed on the discarded jacked, you stood up to take it. A simple black jean jacket, quite thin to be suitable for the warm weather. Holding it by the collar, you brought it closer to your face and inhaled the smell of the perfume lingering on the fabric. You couldn’t quite tell what it was, but it wasn’t too strong and you had to admit it was one of the best smells you knew, especially with the mix of natural scent of Touya’s body.

The owner of the jacket came back with the drinks a few minutes later and saw you with the piece of clothing.

“A little thief today, are we?”

You took one last whiff of the jacket and put it down.

“It smells nice. Maybe I should buy this perfume for myself.”

Touya looked up from his coffee.

“You want my perfume?”

“As I said - it’s nice.” You shrugged and saw him smirk.

“I can give you mine if you want to smell like me so badly.”

“Hmm…” You hummed and leaned forward a bit, “Well, I wouldn’t mind smelling like you.”

You took your cup and started to slowly drink, while looking into Touya’s eyes. Something in them made you feel strange, perhaps it was the softness with which he took you in. 

When sunshine fell on him from between the window decorations, he reminded you of some kind of angel, eyes almost glowing, silver piercings glistening; the sun accentuated every little shadow on his face, but, at the same time, made him look really delicate.

Touya’s gaze went down and your thought moved to the back of your mind. He adjusted his position on the chair before speaking.

“I guess I can tell you why the cafe, which you found, oh so surprising, I don’t know why.” He paused for a second to narrow his eyes at you. “I’ve heard you wanted a “normal” date, whatever the hell that means.”

“Wha-,” your eyes widened with mock surprise, “Did Shiggy snitch on me?”

“Please, he didn’t have to. It’s not like you asked all your friends for advice. So I decided to take you somewhere… classic, if you will.”

You crossed your arms on your chest and rolled your arms, then pointed an accusatory finger at your companion.

“Now you’re just mocking me.”

“Me? Never.” Obvious sarcasm on his part. “But I have one more place that I want to take you later. Perhaps more to your standards.”

Now you felt a bit guilty that he might have thought you didn’t like it. He didn’t seem so, but you preferred to explain either way.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate it… it’s just…” You shrugged. “I didn’t expect something so… usual? Common? Normal, heh.”

“I know you’re just awkward, but let’s relax and enjoy ourselves.”

And so you did, talking about many different things for a few hours.

***

You put your index finger on your lips, pondering on something for a moment.

“Isn’t it going to be, you know… the anniversary soon? Of your mom’s divorce, I mean.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Touya nodded.

“Damn, happy birthday then.” You brought your cup to your lips like you didn’t just say… that. But Touya lifted his eyebrows and stared at you unsure.

“What?” You just shrugged and he sighed, “Nevermind then. Happy birthday to mom.”

A few seconds of a comfortable silence fell over the two of you. The hushed voices of the people around filled your ears; they mixed together, providing a nice background noise. 

“So… how’s you dad?” You quirked an eyebrow at Touya’s surprised expression.

“You want to talk about my… dad? Of all things?”

“Well… I’m just asking! And you know… since he “sucks ass” does he also eat it?” You smiled stupidly, but he just stared with a deadpan. “Okay, stupid, I admit.”

“We have family therapy, so it’s not that bad. Though, the old mad does deserve the bullying.”

You agreed and made a toast with your drink to Touya’s words.

***

“Excuse me!?” Touya exclaimed loudly, “You did what!?”

You put an index finger to your lips trying to shush him, while a few other people looked in your direction, some with curiosity, others with disapproval.

“It wasn’t that bad…” You looked apologetically at some of the patrons. “It’s not like I died.”

Touya stared at you in shock for a good few seconds, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He was almost at a loss of words.

“What- not like she died! Fuckin-” He groaned and dramatically clutched his shirt on his chest. “You’re killing me! You’re killing your father!”

You snorted at his statement. Well, a flair for the dramatics was in his repertoire, after all.

“Don’t you mean ‘Daddy’?” You said with an amused smile and added with a tinge of irony: “Or do you prefer ‘father’ now?”

Touya did not find it funny (or at least, he didn’t let it show on the outside, if he did). He cupped his mouth with one hand, looking to the side, as to ponder on something.

“You know what?” He directed his gaze at you. “I might have to rethink the idea that dating you would be so nice. Like, you… fucking dumbass.”

Ah, concerned Touya, pretty sweet, you had to admit, but there really wasn’t a reason for him to worry.

“Keigo was with me then.” You stated matter of factly.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “I am going to talk with that bastard too… no heroing with Keigo for you!”

You seriously didn’t think that he would be so concerned about the whole ordeal. After all, it was in the past, nothing really happened and if it would have happened, then well… you wouldn’t be here to discuss it.

You smiled softly.

“I don’t think you have any say in this.”

You chuckled, when Touya very aggressively took a sip.

“Jumping off the building… Who fucking does that!?” Oh no, the stare of disapproval.

“Keigo.”

“Because he has WINGS!”

“Yeah, and he caught me because of them!” You paused for a moment and thought for a moment about it. “Though I actually wasn’t sure he would, I mean… you know. He IS quite strong though.”

Touya actually looked like he was ready to end it all right then and there.

“You… didn’t know if he would catch you?” He articulated very slowly, slightly squinting his eyes at you. “And you still jumped?”

“Yup! You know, the adrenaline, fight or flight… I chose flight obviously.” You immediately saw that your cheerful carelessness and (an amazing) joke were nor appreciated, as he looked at you with a blank face, complete deadpan.

“I think, sooner or later, I’m gonna have a heart attack because of you.”

To that, you just cackled and reassured him that you would try not to die in a near future.

***

“Sooo… My sweet Touya, my favorite Todoroki.” He braced himself for whatever you wanted to throw at him, while you shot him a suggestive look. “When are you going to do a new tattoo?”

Oh, he already knew where this was going.

“I don’t know. Why are you asking?” 

“You know…” You acted as if mulling on your idea and tilted your head to the side. “If you need some company…”

Touya sighed and just decided to get to the point.

“Do you wanna go with me?”

“Oh my god, can I?” You grinned and flicked your wrist. “You don’t have to!”

“Ok, then I’ll go alone.” He checked his phone, feigning disinterest, and took a quick look at you to see the hand still in the air and a very surprised expression on your face, that turned almost offended a second later.

“You can’t take it away from me! I’ll have you know, I have my rights.”

“I’m not taking anything away, since I never before said that you could go with me. You just always do.”

“Oh.” You looked down at your knees and did a fake sniff, knowing fully well he didn’t mind your presence… anywhere, really. “You don’t want me there?”

“Well, that-” he smirked slightly, “I never said.”

“So you’re just making a fool out of me then, I see how it is.” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. He just laughed

“You already do it yourself pretty well.”

You gasped loudly with a hand on your chest.

“The audacity! You… how dare you! If you’re gonna be bitchy, I’ll fuck your sister, I will. Don’t try me.”

Touya rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Will you though?” He seemed unconvinced, you wondered why. “Honestly, I thought you did it already. You were going out with her for what? Two months? That’s long… for your standard.”

“Nooo, I didn’t… really, I did not.” Then a different thought popped up in your head. “Won’t it be weird that IF we… become a couple, potentially, and I would, hypothetically, meet your family somewhere, you know, by chance and all. That I am Fuyumi’s ex, I mean.”

He furrowed his brows to digest your question. 

“You think about that?” He smiled, seeing your awkward expression. “That’s cute of you.”

“BABY STEPS, PLEASE.” You loudly exclaimed, avoiding Touya’s eyes, to which he chuckled.

“Okay, just teasing you, baby.” His gaze softened. “But do you really care about that? What others think?”

“Uh…” you sighed, “I don’t know. Not really? But kind of.”

“It’s okay, baby steps, like you said.”

He leaned forward over the table, took your hand into his and soothingly caressed it with his thumb. Your heartbeat quickened a bit and, surprised at that, you just stared at Touya’s slowly moving finger. Feeling were never easy nor were they particularly good, but it felt so nice.

***

Suddenly you saw a flicker of colorful lights next to you, seeing that the decorations on the window were turned on. Looking out the window, you noticed how dark it became. The street neon lights were illuminated everywhere, people moving in all directions to unwind after hard days of work during the week. You were almost shocked at how fast the time went by.

“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

Touya hummed in agreement and, without saying anything, stood up to pay the bill. Earlier, you almost fought him to split it, but you came to an agreement that another time (“Oh, you already want to go out with me again?”, he teased) you would be the one paying. A moment later he came back, put his jacket on and you both exited the lovely cafe.

“So… where are we going?” You asked after following him in a completely opposite direction, to which you came from earlier that day.

“You’ll see.” 

Ah, so much for getting information out of Mr Todoroki.

With a sigh, you just decided to follow him in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, like it usually tends to be, for which you were grateful. He wasn’t pushy, let you do things at your own pace, so you felt… comfortable.

A moment later you felt him grab your hand and let him intertwine your fingers together. Again, the annoying feeling in your chest reappeared. You would need to get a grip on yourself, if this was to continue. The evening was getting quite chilly so Touya used his quirk to make his palm warmer, but you almost took your hand away. You knew that it was bad for him, especially without his support items, even though he was able to control it, almost to perfection. Before you were able to get away, his skin quickly went back to its natural cooler state with a light squeeze to your hand.

Going through the busy street, you were able to observe people differently than usual. On patrols, you were mostly checking out dark alleyways, some abandoned or suspicious buildings, sometimes sites on the outskirts of the city; being able to, sometimes, take in the lively energy of the crowd was enjoyable.

Touya stopped after turning into some calmer sideroad. He took his hand from yours to grab a helmet and then helped you put it on. 

“We taking your baby for a spin?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm, nice.”

After putting on his own helmet he sat down on the motorcycle, waiting for you to do the same. You noticed a new paint job on the matte black surface of the machine. On the sides were done shining blue flames, very on brand for him. You liked it. 

You sat down behind Touya taking a hold of his waist, when he revved the engine and slowly drove away from the busy part of the city. Expertly maneuvering the streets, soon enough you were driving on the outskirts, where barely anyone was out. You looked at the changing scenery over his shoulder, noting the road you were taking seemed familiar. The trees surrounding you from both sides made the night look a bit unnerving, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. The city was far behind already.

You squeezed him just a tiny bit stronger and put your head on his shoulder, careful not to knock the helmets on each other. Loud howling of the wind and the noise of the engine were a surprisingly calming combination, which you have discovered long ago, the first time Touya took you for a drive.

Finally, the motorcycle slowed down. You passed the old busted metal gate and entered a site surrounded by a tall chain link fence, made from wire much thicker than usual to make it more sturdy. The place was situated on a flat field, a bit away from the trees. You could barely see the outline of the big city from where you were.

The space where he parked was relatively empty, save for an occasional piece of metal or glass laying here and there. The only building was a huge square block, bare walls outside “decorated” only by identical windows with perfectly measured spaces in between them. The inside should be relatively empty. What ought to be there are only some vacated rooms and stairs leading from the ground, through three stories, to the roof.

You got off the motorcycle and took the helmet off, hanging it on the handlebar. Taking a closer look around, you notice a pair of sledgehammers and a can of gasoline next to the gate of the building.

“An abandoned Commission site, huh?” You asked rhetorically, but Touya looked surprised at that.

“How do you know what this place is?” 

You decided to ignore him and just pointed to the items you noticed.

“You planning to kill me here or something?” You said with a smile, looking at him. He quirked an eyebrow and moved to pick up the sledgehammers and offered you one.

“Birdbrain said we can trash this place.” You took the tool weighing it in your hand with ease.

“Of course he did.” You glanced at the gasoline. “Did he also say we can play with fire?”

Touya smirked, lifted his hand towards his face and lighted his pinky finger with blue fire. He then moved the hand more towards you, letting you blow it out.

“With me, it’s always playing with fire.”

“I knew you were an arsonist at heart, Touya.” You chuckled lightly, but your voice quickly died down when you looked at him.

He looked at you with an intensity that instantly hypnotized you to focus only on his eyes, which seemed to glow slightly. The only source of light was the moon and the stars in the sky so you were surrounded by harsh shadows and an occasional speck of moonlight.

The gaze with which he stared at you almost made you uncomfortable, because it seemed like he was able to read every little dirty secret you held deep within. A quick thought, that maybe he actually could read you like that, crossed your mind. 

He moved a step towards you and brought his hand to grip your chin. Not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to feel that he could, if he wanted to. Exciting.

He pulled your face a little, so that his lips were right next to your ear. You felt his hot breath on your skin, when he asked:

“Aren’t you?” 

You felt him move his mouth across your skin, from your ear right to your lips. The grip on your chin lessened as he moved his hand to hold the back of your neck instead. It wasn’t anything new to kiss him, but it felt a lot more intimate this time. No force behind it, no rush, nothing inherently sexual; just softness, an interesting contrast to his intense eyes and touches.

He moved away, just enough to speak up, your noses still touching.

“Come on.” He let go completely and moved to grab the gasoline, before entering the building.

You stood in place a moment longer, rendered speechless and motionless by the emotions you felt. The loud hammering in your chest was almost deafening. Not good, get a fucking grip. Without a word, you followed Touya inside.

After a few moments (when the blood pump finally decided to calm down), you glanced around. As you thought, a big empty space, at least on the ground floor. Since the electricity had been shut off a long time ago, the only light was coming from the moon and your phone flashlight. You went after him towards the stairs to the first floor, where a space was filled a little bit more by the rooms dividing the place.

Touya stopped next to a wall to one of the former offices and put his things down, before taking your phone to light your blank canvas, ready for destruction.

“Swing.” And so you did.

You braced yourself against the floor for stabilization and took a wide swing, from behind your back. The hammer made an impact with the wall and with ease penetrated it to the other side. Forcefully, you teared it out, making the hole two times wider.

Oh, it was so liberating. The destruction and chaos of this place would bring you much pleasure.

With a laugh, you took a next swing, and then another, and another. Both of you went on a rampage, destroying what you could in this deserted place. All of the windows broken (some of them with your fist covered in a rug found somewhere on the ground), the inside walls full of holes, doors ripped out of its hinges. The place filled only with dust, debris, and the laughter and screams of both of you.

After you had enough, you ended up lying on the roof. Touya’s head right next to yours, although upside down, as he laid in the opposite direction.

You stared at the clear night sky, admiring millions of stars visible that night. It was always an otherworldly experience to be able to see them. It made everything seem so insignificant in the comparison to the vastness and beauty of space.

Touya, however, was not looking at the sky. His eyes were focused solely on you. He liked the peace and calm visible on your face. You felt his gaze on the side of your face and turned your head to the side, to also look at him.

You moved your hand to push his hair back. It was always really soft to the touch.

“Your roots are showing.” You said quietly, looking at the white part of his hair. He just hummed with eyes closed, marveling at the soft touch on his head.

Before he could fall asleep here, you took your hand and sat up cross-legged. You turned around to look at him, still lying down and still looking at you.

“Didn’t you want to commit arson?”

He perked up at that and got up, but stopped you, when you moved to do the same.

“Wait a second and don’t move.”

You stayed seated and just observed as Touya took the can and started to pour the gasoline on the roof, away from the stairs, in some kind of pattern. When he finished, he motioned you with his hand to come to him.

Ah, so the gasoline heart then. You weren’t really surprised by it, but still laughed, although more at the weirdly proud expression Touya had on his face.

“It’s really cheesy,” you paused for dramatic effect, “I love it.” 

You kissed him lightly on the cheek, to which he froze for a second. Oh, could it be that this time you were the one to render him speechless? After the initial shock, he beamed at you with his stupidly wide grin that sometimes appeared on his face. Though, after a moment it faltered and he grabbed your upper arm. You could pull away, if you wanted, but you just let him hold you.

“Who was that man today?” This again. He seemed worried, more than anything, which you didn’t like that much, cause he could drill it out of you, if he truly wanted. So you decided to avoid his eye, looking in the other direction.

“I told you already… it’s a colleague from work.”

“You know I don’t buy it.”

“I know, but… it’s the truth.” You looked him straight in the eyes, so he would know that it was not a lie.

“I hope you know you can tell me anything.” You wished you could.

“Give me the matches.” He knew that for that moment that would be it, so he let go of your arm with a sigh and took out a small box out of his pocket.

You took it and moved to the other side of the gasoline heart.

You wiped your teeth with your hand, to which Touya raised his eyebrows, but when you took one match out of the box and lit it directly on your teeth, he did look impressed by your trick.

Touya lit his blue flame and both of you set ablaze the gasoline. The fire traveled from both sides, to meet in the middle and create more green-like color. From behind the flames, you were able to see just his silhouette. A beautiful, although terrifying (to some) imagery. 

When the fire started spreading, you quickly moved to leave this place behind. 

Again on the motorcycle, tightly embracing Touya’s torso, you looked back to stare at the rising flames. Colors mixed with each other, creating a picture any painter would be proud of.

Playing with fire was always thrilling, you just hoped none of you would get burned.

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